#our aimless night

[violetearuby]

kabedon🧱❤️

- The Ice Guy and His Cool Female Colleague

- Our Aimless Night

[qq-art]

tonight’s dokidoki

[alphabetblock]

[theacstories]

If you are in search of a sweet and innocent romance manga, set your sights on Our Aimless Nights by Koumori, a newly released series on Azuki!

[gghostwriter]

Whispered Truths

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your weekly reading club with boyfriend, Spencer Reid, has never been as sweet and life-changing as this night Trope: Fluff! Just fluff! w.c: 0.8k a/n: This is actually a request from @bloodredrubyrose and I really liked how this came out. I also used my favorite piece of fiction here as a prop so I hope you like it! Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated! 💗 masterlist

Couples, no matter how new or old, tend to create personalized dates as a way to strengthen the relationship. Some go on hikes together, some go on travels, while some stay in the comfort of their homes—under a blanket with a chosen book on hand.

You and Spencer definitely fall under the latter category. It was quite obvious from the first meeting that literature would be one of the strongest bonding agents between you and him. After all, it was how you were brought together—crashing into one another at the library with books and miscellaneous items scattered on the tiled floor. A few shy glances and bewitching dates later, you found yourself spending your Saturday nights in the presence of your boyfriend of six months, hosting an exclusive reading club with just two members, you and him.

“I never thought of it that way,” your left hand paving an aimless path through Spencer’s curly hair while the other held the book up high.

The pitter patters of the rain outside softly echoed through the walls. You were propped up on the loveseat sofa, his head resting on your lap as he looked upwards in question in regards to your statement.

“Never thought of which?” His voice low and soft, striking a resemblance to how he gazed at you oh so lovingly. As if you were the most riveting piece if art he had ever laid his eyes upon.

“How water played a big symbol throughout the whole book. It was really focused on during the first chapters but I—I just never quite connected the dots,” you clarified, bring the book to a close.

It was your choice for the week, East of Eden by John Steinbeck—a modern classic and had been your favorite work of literature since high school. Spencer had lent his copy to you last week and you vice versa—both turning brown from age, pages about to fall apart from its binding, annotations scribbled on the margins and any lengthy self reflections written on various notebook pages sandwiched in between.

“Your explanation on the empty pages at the end—how water is capable of bringing both life and death. Water being essential for the crops but at the same time, drowned victims. It’s such a poignant note that I think I just fell more in love with Steinbeck’s writing,” you added. “It also made me realize how water in his novel represents the dual capacity of the human soul for good and evil. How we are all filled with conundrums and contradictions and what makes us different from the other species on Earth is our ability to choose whether we are good or evil—” Spencer had sat up and leaned in, interrupting your musings. “—what?” You breathed out as his lips hovered on yours.

The once cozy atmosphere quickly charged with tension and desire that seemed to ooze out of Spencer. There was little space in between and you had no doubt that from the outside looking in, it looked like he was kissing you but he was not, rather a sliver of air was still given space to pass through. So close but so far.

You studied his features up close. How his long lashes fluttered like butterfly wings beating against the wind as his molten, darkened, hazel eyes flickered between your lips and eyes. How his nose lightly caressed yours in an endless Eskimo kiss. How his cheeks stained into a lighter shade of red. And how his pink tongue peeked out to wet his pillowy lips. 

“I’m in love with you,” he whispered as if it was some kind of national secret that he now felt right to expose.

Your breath caught in your throat. This was the first time he had said it. His love for you had been conveyed with every touch, with every action, and with every silence but this was the first time he had put it into words.

His lips caressed yours—the pressure almost non-existent. A ghost of a kiss to gauge your reaction and consent.

“I love you,” he repeated a little louder this time, eyes locking into the very depths of your soul. “You and your mind have enchanted me since the beginning—so beautiful, so captivating.”

The butterflies set free in your stomach caused you to viscerally shiver in reaction.

“I love you too, Spencer.”

A smile graced his face and it was bright and as blinding as the sun, like it had finally decided to stop hiding behind the clouds and show itself in all of its glory.

He leaned in once more. The pressure from his lips now heavier and headier, trying to stamp his everlasting mark on you and in between all these kisses were whispers of his utter devotion and adoration until there was no more space—until you both became one on his loveseat sofa.

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[luulapants]

Existential despair is so common in a person's twenties, I think, because up until that point, we've had a pretty clear road map for what's expected of us and we haven't had much reason to question that map. There are still a few milestones outlined for us (start a career, get married, make babies) but more and more young people are entering the post-school world and realizing:

A) that career thing just isn't happening like they said it would

B) I'm not ready to get married/I don't want to get married/marriage isn't the sort of life-altering event that it used to be

C) I'm not ready to make babies/I don't want a baby/I can't afford to raise children right now (see point A)

And in the absence of these milestones to shoot for (which one could argue weren't the promise of fulfillment they claimed to be in the first place), what we're left with is this aimless abyss of "the rest of our lives" sprawling out ahead of us with no indication of how it will go or what we should be doing to shape it. Young people start their first jobs, find they hate them, and think to themselves, "Is this it? Am I just supposed to do this job until I'm too old to do it or die first?"

Which is, yeah, really fucking depressing!! So here's my best attempt at an alternate roadmap for young people that don't vibe with the old model. Please feel free to add in your own suggestions!

Learn how you work and what you want out of a job. Unless you've been in a job-specific training program that gives you hands-on experience, your first jobs should be experiments. Learn how a full-time job feels for you, what elements are more or less difficult. Different workplaces have different cultures and expectations - what do you need out of a job environment? Do you need to find fulfillment in your job or is it enough for it to pay the bills and leave you time to find outside fulfillment? Do you want to climb a corporate ladder or are you content to hunker down as long as your bills get paid? This period of experimentation is exhausting and may feel like it's consuming your whole life.

Learn how to make time for things outside of work. Adapting to a full-time work environment often leaves you feeling so drained that you can't do anything but go home and collapse on the couch every day. That's fine - for a little while. But it can also become a habit. You need to learn how to do things after work or you'll go crazy. Go to a trivia night. Start an exercise schedule. Take a class in your community. Find volunteer work. Join a band. You will find that putting more things into your day makes you feel like you have more time, not less.

Find a community. Making friends as an adult can feel impossible. Where do you find these mysterious friends everyone seems to have?? This goes along with #2, though. As you start regularly attending the same activities, you will find that repeat interactions with the same people turn into friendships or at least friendly acquaintances. Say yes to invitations. Get involved in your local community. Strive to be connected enough to bump into people at the grocery store.

Unlearn bad lessons. We all internalize some messed up things when we're growing up. As you start off your adult life, that's the time to actively work at unpacking the things you've brought with you from childhood and deciding which things are helping you and which things are harming you. This might mean therapy or joining a spiritual group or reading new things or just making special time to be in your own head.

Learn the lessons you missed. In this, I mostly mean practical things. "Adulting." Areas of your day-to-day practical life that are causing you extreme stress are probably related to a knowledge or experience gap. Do you hate cooking and cleaning or were you not taught how to do it properly? Are you afraid of making medical appointments or is it just something new you're not used to? Does money make you queasy or do you need to learn how to make a budget?

Find something fulfilling. This can be your job. It can be volunteer work. It can be faith. It can be a hobby. It can be creating things. It can be challenging yourself physically. It can be activism. It can be going for walks in nature. Everyone finds fulfillment in different places. If you're not finding it where you are, look somewhere else.

[chlorinecake]

🎙️ star-crossed lovers 【 薄幸な恋人 】 ⛦

summ✩ry ⭑⭒⭑ As rehearsals and promotions for your big collab stage with Enhypen become progressively more intense, you and Niki face challenges that might effect your secret relationship and standing with the company...

p✩iring ⭑⭒⭑ idol!niki x popstar!reader PREVIOUSLY

cont✩ins ⭑⭒⭑ band au, fluff, secret romance, kissing + a slightly heated make-out scene, mild bullying, LOTS of drama, reader is younger than Niki, 3.6k words

It felt strange having your hair, makeup, and clothes managed by someone else, especially in such a meticulous way.

Today was the big day of the Riot Grrlz x Enhypen fan meeting that Hybe was hosting in honor of your upcoming collaboration stage, the event acting as some sort of promotional.

The fashion theme for the day, as decided by the likes of an online poll distributed by Enhypen's Instagram account, was 'Schoolgirl / Schoolboy,' which meant everyone would be dressed in plaid neck ties and neatly-ironed button-down blazers.

“This'll have to do,” murmured one of the makeup artist's on duty, simply dusting you with a bit of blush, some gloss, and shimmery eye shadow because they couldn't find a foundation shade that matched your skin color.

“I can't find my contact solution!” Serenity exclaimed frantically in the dressing studio, searching through her sparkly teal duffle bag for the fifth time this hour.

Of course none of you were willing to assist her on the aimless contact solution hunt, especially not with the way she verbally harassed the makeup crew for not "lining her eyes right."

“Just let it go, Ren,” Sunghoon said with an annoyed sigh, “the stylists are making all of us wear glasses for the concept today anyways...”

“Okay first of all, don't call me by my nickname. Second, it's not my vision I'm worried about, but my image,” she clarified matter-of-factly, “I wanna impress the Korean fans with a big and bright boba eye moment...”

“You have sooo many problems,” Jade added with a similar irritation, rolling her eyes at the diva before a hairstylist ran over to clip in another track of fake hair.

“Tell me about it,” Serenity huffed despairingly, sticking her arms out like a scarecrow as the fashion crew adjusted the belt around her waist.

“Let's just try and maintain a good mood before the meeting guys,” you started optimistically amongst the tension, “the fans might pick up on our bad energy if we all show up pouting like this...”

“Easy for you to say,” Niki replied teasingly, “you slept like a baby last night… meanwhile, you kept me up with your insistent snoring…”

“Did not,” you whined in protest, looking back at his attractively playful expression, “it’s not my fault that the stories you tell in your groggy bedtime voice are so relaxing.”

Niki meant to reply but was rudely interrupted by Serenity’s stinky attitude, “Aww, late night bonding moment, I see? Hope a little ‘story time’ was as far as it got for you two lovebirds...”

You and Niki shook your heads in unison at her senseless comment, the rest of Enhypen and your band mates soon rushing out of the dressing room and outside to the awaiting limousine as the schedule manager directed.

“Make sure you have everything you need, guys! We’re running a bit behind on time and can’t afford any more set-backs,” exclaimed a tall, broad man in athletic wear, a black Hybe hat topping off his look.

“Got it, sir,” Jungwon replied politely, double-checking his leather cross-body bag before stepping into the vehicle, the rest of you following after him.

You didn’t expect to see Miss Kim in the front seat with the chauffeur, but you greeted her nonetheless.

“Morning, Miss Kim!,” You and Hearin started enthusiastically.

“Morning, Riot Grrlz,” she returned while not looking at any of you, writing hasty yet neat notes down on her clipboard, “I’ll be bold and assume you ladies have never attended any sort of fan event, correct?”

“Y-yes, that is correct,” Jade answered before you, crossing her legs in her seat, “this’ll be our very first experience today…”

“Oh, that’s cool for you then, isn’t it? Don’t worry if you don’t know what to say or do, by the way... just copy us,” you heard Heeseung encourage somewhere behind you, but your mind was more focused on the way Niki’s hand accidentally brushed against yours while you two glared out of the same window...

Accidentally… maybe…

“I was just getting around to that, Heeseung,” Miss Kim continued after clearing her coffee-stained throat, “Korean fans as a whole are pretty cutthroat, and whether you’re a foreigner or not, they expect you to present yourself a certain way…”

“Perfect,” Sunoo thought out loud, “they expect you to be perfect…”

“That’s just the way this idol life goes, I'm afraid,” Jungwon sighed from his seat, not empathetically, but in a realistic sense.

“Either way, you girls should be safe to mirror whatever the boys are doing if you ever feel confused…” Miss Kim trailed off, the limo being just a few feet from reaching the fan meeting center, “Good luck today, you all.”

▶︎ ၊၊||၊|။||||။‌‌‌‌‌၊| • • •

Things were turning out surprisingly smooth at the event, to say the least.

Needless to mention, you and Niki stayed pretty close the entire time, and the fans seemed to be amused by your attempt at famous duo heart poses with him.

“Just extend your hand like this,” he instructed while giggling, watching as your overhead heart ended up looking more like an oval to the audience.

Serenity was received as a fan favorite, too, her “boba eye” look captivating the male attendees while others were more entertained in her beginner Korean skills.

“Hwaiting,” she exclaimed confidently before the fans one too many times for your tolerance, Sunghoon’s face clearly showing just how much he was enjoying not being the cringiest person in the room for once.

Or, at least that was until an older fan requested that he and Sunoo sing and dance to the infamous aeygo Ottoke song for good luck at the show tomorrow.

“The things we do for engene,” the two boys collectively thought to themselves while fastening coquette bunny ears atop their heads, hoping that their enthusiasm would override the embarrassment.

It was all just such a culture shock for you and your group.

“Uhhh, a little help here?” Haerin worriedly called out to Jake as a particularly excited Korean fan approached her with a lot to say that she could barely understand.

“Oh- allow me,” Jake offered between the language barrier, translating to Haerin what the fan was trying to tell her.

“She thinks I’m a what now?”

“A K-pop Idol, mostly because of your trendy look today,” Jungwon giggled warmly, “the prophesied eighth member of Enhypen, in fact...”

Haerin laughed with both embarrassment and flattery, trying her best to explain to the young fan that she was a member of the Riot Grrlz and Riot Grrlz only.

Interactive activities continued just as well after this, the event nearing its end as you and Niki did a few TikTok dance challenges for the fans on stage.

Dance challenges that you had practiced with him in eery hours of the night, or whenever you two were left alone in the dance studio.

That, alongside other things too… like stealing sweet kisses here and there… or nearly melting while staring into each others love struck eyes—

“____, right?” A fan asked, approaching you with a blue marker and square of paper.

“Yes, that’s me. Nice to meet you,” you returned, keeping eye contact with her, despite the dark shades she wore.

“Nice to meet you, too! I have so many questions to ask you about what it’s like working with Enhypen!… and I really like your hair, too! The highlights look really nice with your outfit hehe… ALSO, I've been listening to a lot of your groups songs recently, and my favorite has to be the main track from your most recent album, it’s so unique!…” the fans voice eventually trailed off shyly.

“Oh my goodness, sorry for rambling!! Uhmmm, can I get your autograph by any chance?”

“Aww, thank you,” you smiled brightly, “and it’s okay! I find it cute how interested you are in my experience and music…”

Your hand reached out to grab the marker from her grasp, your body leaning forward slightly as you signed your name on the photo, resting your weight on the desk before you.

So lost in the moment, you didn’t even realize that the photo you had just signed was one of you and Niki hanging out just outside of Yeouido Park the other night.

It was impossible to hold back the gasp that escaped your throat at the realization, your finger loosing its grip around the marker as your stunned eyes met her knowing ones.

“Look like you’ve seen a ghost,” she chuckled in a facetiously sweet tone, you and her hands fighting over the now autographed-polaroid before your grip overthrew hers.

“Where did you get that—”

“Your secret’s safe with me, alright?” She interrupted with a sharp whisper, “So long as you work on distancing yourself from Niki moving forward…”

You blinked in feigned confusion at her words, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, we’re just colleagues—”

“And he’s an idol,” she cut in again, “idols don’t belong to silly American girls like you… you don’t even belong in our world…”

At this point, you're certain she could see how upset you were with her, and you didn't even care to hide it. “Everyone has welcomed me here, expect for you… and to what gain? I’m here with my band solely for work purposes, and I can assure you there is nothing you have to worry about concerning my professionalism.”

Your strong reply seemed to have rubbed her the wrong way, one of her hands fastening the bag over her shoulder while the other adjusted the glasses sitting at her nose.

“Thank you for your time,” she nearly growled at you, that same phony smile plastered to her lips before she hurriedly walked away, disappearing into the crowd of fans.

You let out a breath that you didn't even know you'd been holding, trying to calm yourself down before anyone noticed the silent commotion that had occurred on your side of the meeting booth.

All you could do was hope that this was the only copy or evidence of you and Niki hanging out that night as you folded the paper into a small square, tucking it under your sleeve in a way that no one would notice.

Above all though, you were just glad that the event was coming to an end soon, a few on-set staff members already helping to put away some stage props, meanwhile Sunoo, Heeseung, and Jade helped themselves to bringing along some gifts from fans.

“Hey... uhm, Heeseung? Can I-”

“Yes, Jade,” Heeseung answered with a giggle, “you can have all of my kitty plush gifts...”

▶︎ ၊၊||၊|။||||။‌‌‌‌‌၊| • • •

The limo ride back to the HYBE building was quiet, the sole thought roaming in the back of your mind being that one fan's cruel words…

…𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘈𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶… 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥...

It wasn’t like you were trying to infiltrate the world of K-pop.

You and your group were simply expanding your collab horizons upon being invited, and it seriously boggled you how anyone would have a problem with that—

“Knock knock,” Niki said with a smile in his voice from behind the door to your private backstage dressing room, waiting for your cue that it was safe for him to come in.

“You can come in, Niki,” you replied softly, standing in front of the body length wall mirror while struggling to fix your hair into a suitable style for the stage practice in a few minutes.

“Hi,” you greeted again once he reached you, watching as his eyes traced your reflection, almost immediately picking up on your nervous demeanor.

“You did great today, ____, y’know that?” He started with a low voice, guiding your stressed hands away from your head and resting them at your sides.

“Niki, I have to get ready—”

“And you already look more than prepared,” he encouraged, securing his hands around your waist before leaving a kiss below your ear, “gorgeous, even...”

“Thanks,” you answered shyly, somehow already feeling a bit better about things now that he was near you.

“So. Are you gonna tell me what’s got you upset or are we gonna make this a guessing game?” He teased, making you chuckle a bit as his attempt to cheer you up.

Your eyes fell to the floor, his grip on you loosening as a little sigh escaped your freshly glossed lips.

“A fan…,” you began quietly, “at the meeting today… she asked me to sign this photo.”

Reaching into your bra, you pulled out the mysterious square photo and watched with a pout as Niki carefully unfolded it from each corner.

“I… I don’t understand…” he stuttered, eyes glazing over the sight of you and him holding hands at the firework show that night.

“I know, it’s my fault that—”

“No…,” he interrupted your words before meeting your guilt-ridden eyes, “I don’t understand why you’re letting this get to you…”

“Excuse me?” You asked with a confused expression, “if something like this gets out, it could ruin both of our careers, y’know?”

“Sure,” he responded nonchalantly with a shrug, “but I couldn’t care less about some jealous sasaeng’s creepy little photo fest… by now, it’s gonna take a lot more than an innocent, harmless photo of us hanging out to make me question our status in this field.”

“You never take anything seriously, Nishimura,” you smiled with a sigh, shaking your head as you watched his fingers tear the photo to pieces.

“Well you’re definitely an exception to that trait of mine,” he smirked, tucking the torn shreds of paper into his back pocket before finding your face in his hands, placing a tender kiss to your left cheek.

“How sweet of you to say,” you whispered softly, grabbing the neckline of his shirt and pulling him closer to your height, “now how about you kiss me properly this time?”

He hummed at your teasing tone, sharp features softening as he tilted his head, sealing the space between you and him with the sweet kiss you’d been waiting for.

“I’ll never get tired of this,” Niki sighed against your lips, his right hand removing the rubber band securing your ponytail so his fingers could roam freely through your curls.

Things were escalating pretty quickly now, both of your breaths sounding more labored with each second as you stumbled backwards onto the desk, his energy leading the kiss as he remained on top of you.

It was almost more than you could handle, his hands roaming at your sides before your eyes barely fluttered open, the sight of his slightly blushed button-nose making you feel like melting on the spot.

Thats when you realized his pink hue was a result of two reasons: (1) The way your hands shyly clung to his shoulders right now, and (2) the shadow of footsteps peeking behind your dressing room door.

Knock, knock, knock.

“Hello? Miss ____, its Kim... Are you decent?”

“Erm, one second!” You responded in an obvious frantic.

Niki helped you get up from the vanity table, kneeling down quickly to hide himself under the it as the stern lady made her way into the room anyway.

“Sorry to intrude,” she began abruptly, not even taking note of your currently disheveled hair and flushed expression, “but I’ve unfortunately been appointed as the bearer of bad news for today…”

“Oh... uhm, w- what is it, is everyone alright?” You asked with a concerned tone, trying to take your mind off the fact that a Niki stained with the glimmer of your peach flavored lipgloss all over his mouth was literally under your desk right now, a mere two feet away from Miss Kim’s leather boots.

“For the most part, yes… but it concerns one of your band mates… Serenity, specifically… Since you are the leader of your group, I found it humble to have at least this much respect to tell you first in private.”

You let out a breath, closing your eyes for a moment before opening them back up, restoring your usually confident aura and making eye contact with the woman.

“Thank you, Miss Kim… I’m listening…”

▶︎ ၊၊||၊|။||||။‌‌‌‌‌၊| • • •

The sounds of shoes rhythmically scuffing, mics going in and out of focus, and layered fits of heavy breathing filled your ears for the next two hours.

Design tech, stage directors, and performers alike were giving it their all to perfect things before the big show coming up.

You paced around the shiny stage, a sweat rag secured lazily around your neck as you and the Enhypen members just got through with rehearsing the main choreo at the performing arena for the first time.

Everyone except Jay and Jade that is, who were still busy with working on their guitar duet for the intro show backstage with the music writers.

“I have no idea how you can still see after being in front of these bright stage lights all the time,” you huffed out tiredly, glancing at Sunoo who only shrugged while taking a few gulps from his grey water bottle.

“I’m not too sure either, but for the lot of us, it’s just something you have to get used to,” he tried warmly before letting himself fall on the ground, limbs spread out like an exhausted snowman as sweat trickled down his forehead.

“Here, lemme show you a little trick I like to use,” Niki offered with a smile while approaching you from behind, his larger frame casting a shadow before you.

“Look down there,” he started, guiding your waist with one hand as he pointed ahead of you with the other, “do you see the tech crew down there?”

You looked to where his finger was pointing, eyes being met with the sight of workers who sat in reclining chairs while others drank some coffee, a few sporadic employees carrying clipboards with stacks of paper, giving out orders to their fellow floor members.

“Yeah, I see them,” you answered, making Niki laugh slightly for reasons you didn’t fully understand.

“That means you’re too close then,” he replied, still holding your waist as he guided you to take a few steps back, which ended up being more steps for you given the leg length differences.

“There’s a rule of thumb that if you can see the audience, they can’t see you… are the lights still bothering you now?”

“Not as much, actually,” you said, turning to face him as he still held you close, everything in your body fighting not to kiss him in this moment given the way he looked back at you, “thanks again…”

“Anytime,” he smirked smuggly, “but uhhh, I think people might be looking at us now—”

“Oh,” you giggled shyly, backing a few inches away from him.

“Ahem,” a nagging voice cleared from beside you two, breaking the wholesome presence of the moment.

“Do you guys think you’re invisible or something?” Serenity asked, crossing her arms while staring the both of you up.

“Uhm…. No?” Niki answered for you, furrowing his eyes at the blue-eyed diva.

“Then why’re you just standing there? You’re blocking my light…”

You let out a scoff at her words, feeling baffled at the thought of how insecure girls like her could have such egotistical tendencies.

“Sorry, Serenity…,” you said half-heartedly, “didn’t mean to disturb your… solo mid-break practice session...”

“Really appreciate it, leader lady,” she replied sarcastically, very intentionally bumping into your shoulder as she walked past you before stopping in her tracks, a loose copy of the stage schedule getting caught under her baby pink sneakers.

She leaned down to pick it up, examining the text before her eyes stumbled over a line of bolded words. All of this was for reasons she didn’t understand, but either way, would soon resent.

“Ugh?!!” She exclaimed with a confused scoff, “HYBE is kicking me from the show??”

Your eyes widened at her words, the furious, confused, and torn look on her face doing nothing but make Niki smirk to himself, “Serenity, I can explain—”

“And you knew about this, didn’t you?” She accused with balled fists, looking between your nervous face and Niki’s shamelessly proud one.

“I just found out today, okay? But Miss Kim specifically instructed me not to say anything about until she revealed it to you herself after practice,” you clarified with a shaky voice.

“Please,” she said with a scoff, “And what’s with the face, Nishimura Nimrod? Huh!? Your little girlfriend told you before she told me, her own band mat—”

“I didnt tell him anything!” You retorted with a slightly raised voice, cracking with nerves you couldn't keep buried anymore.

You never liked being in the hot seat unless you were sitting there with Niki, thanks to his ability to always maintain his cool under pressure...

However, for some reason, even with him next to you right now, you still felt like hurling yourself to the ground.

“You had to have told me him something, so just stop with your insistent lies, ____,” Serenity spat, poking a finger in the center of your chest. Hard.

“You couldn’t wait to get rid of me, its been all over your rotten little face ever since we got here… You’re so jealous of me and it’s honestly depressing at this point…”

Oh Serenity, you thought in your mind, if only you knew this was all brought on by yourself…

You’d had enough of her ignorant speech, holding a fierce eye contact with her while trying to conceal the tears forming behind your eyes.

The sadness growing in your heart…

“None of this was my decision, Ren, so if you have a bone to pick with someone, try taking it up with Miss Kim herself,” you said firmly, walking back a few steps in case she tried touching you again, “I'm sure she'd be more than happy to inform you on her reasons for exiling you from the main activities…”

“What’s going on you guys?” Haerin asked timidly in the midst of the chaos, having just come back from washing up in the restroom.

Serenity practically burned holes in your face with her venomous glare before turning sharply on her heel, footsteps loud and startling as she marched off the stage, murmuring a string of curses under her breath.

“Soooo,” Sunghoon started with a curious accent, “I’m usually not the best at comprehending things, but I’m assuming that whatever just happened was a lot more serious than the usual Riot Grrlz drama, correct?”

“Yeah, what's the big deal ____?,” Jade asked alongside Jake, who gave your shoulder a comforting shake.

You fought with everything in your body to not to let any tears fall...

Because in this moment, it just felt right to cry, but at the same time, was it really worth appearing weak in front of everyone?

Everyone who counted on you to remain strong?

You exhaled with a deep breath, wiping the pricks of moisture from your eyes before speaking, “Serenity won’t be performing with us for the special stage anymore… only the ending song.”

A cacophony of gasps filled the room at your words, Jungwon having picked up the loose schedule copy to analyze it for himself, the bolded words reading:

>> SERENITY TAYLOR Authorized to be PULLED from Furthering Her Performance Activities in Sight of Behavioral Decency Violations Under HYBE's Collaboration and Code of Conduct Standards

“Will she be allowed to attend the award show at least,” Heeseung inquired, not out of empathy, but curiosity as all of this was unfolding pretty fast.

“Perhaps, but for now, we can rest on the thought that we’ll have one less problem while preparing from here on out,” you answered, feeling a large hand take your hand in theirs before giving it a gentle squeeze.

Niki.

“Either way, the show must go on you guys,” he said with a deep voice, the faintest smile being on his face as he looked back at you, dark eyes sparkling with sincerity.

The stage lights flickered from ahead and above you, a key indicator that the radio would be picking up again soon, playing the instrumental to your practice track.

“Mic check everyone and it’s back to rehearsals in five,” yelled out a staff member from below the stage, the ten of you now lining up in formation while adjusting your headsets around your ears.

There was only one thought that remained in your head as the choreographer hopped up center stage to explain how the performance would accommodate for Serenity's sudden absence:

The show must go on.

🎙️For my baby, @microwvdstrawb3rri3s 💕 This is episode 3 for ya ~ Thanks for being so patient with me :3

⛦ TAGS: @squoxle @nikisvanillaccola @yourmomscuntis2tighy @nikimeows @kimjiho1 @nikipedia07 @nishimuradaniel @ashgonedash @laurradoesloveu @caithefly @samhomo @rikikiynikilcykiki @3ngene--frvr @illymontyshit @filmofhybe @whoslug @nikiiitties

🎙️ Feel free to check out more fun reads on the pinned post at my home page ~

[musingsofahufflepuff]

Just a Glimpse of Us

ex!Mattheo Riddle x gn!reader, Theodore Nott x gn!reader; angst

summary: after a particularly rough break up with mattheo, theodore is there to pick up the pieces. he’s the perfect boyfriend in theory, so why do you wish it was your ex instead?

a/n: while the reader is currently dating theo, this isn’t really about him (sorry bby ily). our focus today is matt. he’s a bit of a dick for the majority and says a couple of insensitive things. the happy ending won, so here it is, happy valentine’s day ♡

Only 2 weeks after your relationship ending fight with Mattheo Riddle, Theodore Nott asked you out. You said yes.

It had taken you a week longer than it had for Mattheo.

You weren’t entirely sure why you had said yes. The pessimist in you said it was only because you were hurt. The optimist in you meekly thought different.

Theodore was attractive and surprisingly gentle with you. In the days following the break up, he frequently sought you out in the nooks of the castle you started to escape to. The times when you couldn’t keep yourself together, he held you as you broke down in tears and didn’t let go until the pain subsided. His chest was warm and sturdy and safe. The scent of smoke lingered on him hauntingly similar to the way it hung to Mattheo, permeating his clothes and your soul.

He was there by your side when you stumbled on a Ravenclaw girl practically chewing Mattheo’s face off out in the hall in front of god and everyone, 3 days post breakup. Part of you knew he wanted you to see.

A piece of you died that day.

The following weekend party ended with you in Theodore’s bed. Maybe you wanted Matt to walk in his dorm and see you with one of his best friends. Maybe you wanted him to feel the same festering wound you had been living with since he had stormed out of your life.

He never did come back that night.

A week after Mattheo broke your heart a second time, Theodore found you sitting in the astronomy tower, knees to your chest, staring at the view of the valley. He sat next to you, arm easing its way across your shoulders as you leaned into him. He had seemed nervous, so unlike his usual stoic and relaxed demeanor.

“Would you want to maybe go to Hogsmeade with me tesorino?”

The pessimist in you was right.

♡ ♡ ♡

That was a month ago. A month of dating Theodore Nott. You were less sad at least. Or maybe you were just more numb.

Despite sitting at the Slytherin table with Theodore and your friends, you weren’t really present. You were vaguely aware of his hand resting on your side and the unintelligible chattering filling in the background noise of aimless thoughts. Your eyes were facing the rest of the Great Hall, but you were looking through it. You used to sit here with all the same people but Mattheo always used to be here too. You hadn’t seen him during meals or class lately. He would sling his arm around your waist during meals like this. Theodore’s touch burns.

Before your mind can drift off too far as to what he could possibly be up to recently, the doors to the great hall open with a thud.

It takes a few blinks to get your eyes to focus back and when they do, you’re greeted to a bored looking Mattheo, arm loosely resting on—what appears to be a Hufflepuff—girl’s shoulder.

Theodore’s grip on you tightens and a kiss is pressed to your temple. Matt’s eyes rake over to where you’re sat and you can’t quite figure out what he’s thinking. As quickly as he looked your way, he directs his attention elsewhere.

“You okay tesorino? You got tense,” Theodore speaks softly above your ear.

With an exhale you smile up at him, “I’m okay Teddy.” He’s looking at you like you placed the moon in the sky for his enjoyment and it reminds you of brown eyes that had once looked at you the same way.

Pushing the thought from your mind, you press a firm kiss on his lips- searching for butterflies or fireworks or something when he returns the motion.

You find none.

♡ ♡ ♡

“Nott? Really sweetheart? You can do better than that.”

Mattheo’s voice stabs through you, making you involuntarily jerk to a halt. It had been so long since you’d heard his voice. You try to regain your breath before turning to face him. He’s standing in the middle of the hall, cocky smile on his face. You had forgotten how arrogant he could be, used to his sweet smiles and soft eyes reserved only for you. You desperately longed for it. That Matt was long gone, just a whisper you were still hopelessly trying to grasp onto.

He raises an eyebrow when you make no attempt to respond, seemingly expecting a snarky remark. He takes a couple strides toward you. He baits you again, “I guess I can see why you hang around him, he follows you around like a pathetic dog.” You bite.

“At least I’m not a manwhore who jumps in the first skirt offered to him,” the calm in your tone surprises you, your entire soul feels like it could shatter any moment. “What do you want Riddle?”

Something flashes across Matt’s face for the briefest of moments. So subtle only you would have noticed it.

Before he can respond Theodore is by your side, “why don’t you say that shit to my face next time.”

“And here’s the guard dog now. Have to say, didn’t expect my best mate to lap up my sloppy seconds.”

Tears sting in your eyes at his unexpected cruelty. Then the sound of a fist cracking bone is making you jump. You cover your mouth with your hands as blood starts pouring out of Mattheo’s nose. A crowd has started to form around the three of you and you’re grabbing Theodore’s arm that’s getting ready to take another swing.

Matt’s face is hard to read. He doesn’t immediately react to his apparently broken nose nor the blood staining his uniform. Instead his eyes are locked on you.

You force your voice to work, “c’mon Teddy, it’s not worth it.”

He snaps his head towards you in bewilderment. “Tesorino you heard what he just said about you, right?” Your heart aches at his concern only for you, your gaze shifting to meet Mattheo. The same aching heart reminds you he would have done the same for you once upon a time.

Those pretty brown eyes convince you that you don’t want to see his face anymore beaten than it already was.

“Please Teddy, let’s just go.” You look up at Theodore’s face and tug on his arm.

He relaxes his stance and gives you a nod, letting you lead him away. You do your best to not look back at Mattheo.

However you can’t help the quick glance over your shoulder; seeing Matt looking at you, ironically, like a kicked puppy.

You cry yourself to sleep that night, locked in Theodore’s suffocating embrace.

♡ ♡ ♡

Monday night finds you back in the astronomy tower, cigarette in your fingers. You had swiped it from Theodore’s stash before classes this morning. It wasn’t the same brand Matt used. Knowing Nott, it was probably higher quality.

You turn the stick in your hand, blinking back tears. Thoughts of your time up here with Matt swirl around your head, making it hard to breathe.

There at the top of the tower surrounded by the cool night, you break.

It happens all at once. No build up, just a shatter. Sobs rack through your body and an animalistic cry of pure pain and despair forces its way out of you.

♡ ♡ ♡

Mattheo pushes himself off the leather couch he sat on in the common room. Enzo looks up at him with furrowed eyebrows. He pulls a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and flashes it at the boy, “need a smoke, wanna come with?”

He gets a small head shake no in response before he turns to leave the dungeons.

The walk up to the astronomy tower is familiar and would be comforting in different circumstances. As he starts climbing up the stairs he hears broken sobs echo through the tower. He hesitates thinking it might be best to leave the person alone, but his concern wins out and he treks onward. To say he’s shocked when he sees it’s you is an understatement. Heart rate picking up at the thought of you being hurt, he makes his way over.

At the sound of his footsteps, in between sobs you choke out, “please leave Theo, I want to be alone.”

“I’m not Theo, sorry to disappoint,” the words are slightly joking but his tone is gentle.

You lift your head up to look at him, eyes red and tear tracks staining your cheeks. His heart aches. He settles himself down next to you, giving you space.

You sit together in silence for a few moments, his mere presence wrapping itself around you like a childhood blanket, tattered and long lost. You feel some semblance of peace for the first time in months.

“I’m sorry,” he ducks his head down, shame overtaking him. “You didn’t deserve the way I treated you.”

He tilts his head to look at you, eyebrows knitting together. He almost looks like he could cry. “You’re not my sloppy seconds and Theo isn’t a dog, I just-“ he goes back to avoiding your eyes and blinks a couple times, a tear rolling down his cheek. You reach out and gently wipe it away with your thumb. It has the unintended consequence of making more tears start to fall.

“I was angry and hurt and I guess the only way I know how to express that is by hurting everyone around me.” Your soul shouts at you to reach out for him, but you hold back.

“I think about you all the time,” he’s curled in on himself in the way you’ve only ever seen him do when he talks about his home life. “I miss you so much.”

His eyes squeeze shut in an attempt to stop crying, fingers digging into his biceps. You know him too well, can read his actions like you were reading his mind.

You pull him into your arms.

It’s easy to tell you made the right decision when he instantly relaxes in your embrace, instinctively pushing his head against your chest like he had done so many times before. His voice comes out quieter when he says, “I don’t expect you to forgive me, lord knows I wouldn’t.”

A small smile works its way onto your face as you speak to him for the first time since the fight in the hallway, “you’ve always been the type to hold a grudge. And I know you’d never admit it, but it’s because you care.”

“I’m sorry for kissing that girl, I don’t even know her name. I thought it would fill the hole in me, but it didn’t. Then I saw you with Theo at the party and—“ his voice cracks. You tighten your grip, a hand coming up to run through his curls.

You release a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding, “I told Theo that I couldn’t keep seeing him today. I felt like I was using him, cause he’s not you.”

Matt pulls himself out of your embrace to cup your face in his hands, dark eyes swimming with unshed tears and that gentle look he used to give you. The one where you could see the longing, the raw need for your touch and love and approval and very essence of your being. It was vulnerable and gave away just how deeply sorry he was for hurting you.

You were drawn to him as you had always been, a planet orbiting a sun that gave off such warmth and fiery passion but could also burn magnitudes of pain that was near incomprehensible.

“I can’t fix the damage I’ve done, but I want to spend my life making it up to you. And I’ll do everything in my power to make amends with Theo. Please, let me be part of your life again.”

“Matty, I want to, but I don’t want to feel like that again. It was hell,” your voice catches on the last part, a stray tear escaping. Gentle lips are pressed on your cheek where the tear was.

“I will never make you feel that way again. And I give you full permission to use an unforgivable if I don’t keep my promise. Fuck, I’ll take an unbreakable vow if that’s what you want, love.”

You can’t hold back anymore, pressing your lips to his in a kiss that rivals the most beautiful sunsets, warmth rushing over you. This is what home feels like.

[yannawayne]

vi. what's up danger?

SYNOPSIS: "Alright, let's do this one last time. My name is Y/N Kyle. I was bitten by a radioactive spider, And I've been the one and only Spidey in Gotham. I’m pretty sure you know the rest." PAIRING: Older! Damian Wayne/Fem! Reader TAGS: Established relationship, Wounds, Violence, Surgical procedures, Panic Attacks, Arguments AO3: yenwayne SERIES LINK: gotham's only spidey

<- PREVIOUS | NEXT ->

NOTE: THIS IS PART 6. I POSTED 2 CHAPTERS TODAY! PART 5 IS HERE

 ༻⊰───⋅

"No sign of activity. Just monitoring. Slow night."

"Figured," Nightwing's voice spoke up. "There is a storm."

“Ishth Gotham,” Jason's voice chimed in, muffled as if he was chewing something. “When isn’t there a storm?”

"Are you eating right now?" Tim's voice squeaked with disbelief, the sound sharp and incredulous over the comms. "Again? Really?"

"Yeah?" Jason retorted, taking another bite of whatever he was munching on. "A guy's gotta eat. Maybe if you actually ate more, you wouldn’t be so scrawny, Timberland."

"I'm fit!" Tim snapped back, voice cracking. "And can you please stop using my name? We have codenames for a reason."

"You're the genius who called yourself 'Drake'."

 ༻⊰───⋅

Friday, 8:35 AM - Gotham Academy, Gotham City.

The halls of Gotham Academy buzzed with the usual chatter and laughter—a total disconnect from the storm of nerves brewing inside you. You zigzagged through the crowd, your trusty, battle-worn Converse scuffing against the linoleum. Damian’s varsity jacket hung over your uniform, the hood pulled low to hide the cuts on your face.

Morgan had ditched you at the entrance, probably off to plot some mad science in the labs. Not exactly your idea of fun, so you opted for aimless wandering instead.

And if I only could I'd make a deal with God.  And I'd get Him to swap our places.  Be runnin' up that road.  Be runnin' up that hill  Be runnin' up that building. 

Your headphones were snug, the music offering a temporary refuge as you walked, your head instinctively nodding to the beat. Even with the volume cranked up, you couldn’t shake the awareness of every shift in the crowd, the way the jacket rubbed against your sore muscles, or the stiffness in your back and arm from the muscle tear. Concerned whispers drifted past you, catching on the currents of passing conversations, but you kept moving, trying to lose yourself in the rhythm of the song.

When you reached Damian’s locker, you leaned against it, letting the cool metal soothe your aching back. You adjusted the hood of his jacket, tugging it further down to hide the cuts around your face. With your free hand, you quickly typed out a message to Damian, your fingers flying over the screen, each tap a small burst of nervous energy.

You:

"At your locker."

You hit send, slipped your phone back into your pocket, then immediately pulled it out again. This time, you opened Twitter, your thumb instinctively scrolling through your feed for any updates on the recent incident.

Tweets about the attack were already trending, paired with blurry photos and clickbait headlines. You cringed as fan accounts for #Nightcrawler started flooding in. It was wild how fast the public’s attention could flip from genuine concern to a full-blown obsession with the latest hero—or villain. 

You sighed, the tension in your shoulders building as you scrolled through the flood of posts.

“Beloved?”

A tanned hand brushed gently against your arm, followed by the sight of polished brown dress shoes stepping into view.

“Dami,” you murmured with a relieved smile, leaning into his hold, your head still bowed.

Damian instinctively pulled you into a hug, his arm wrapping around your shoulders. The embrace was firm but careful, as if he feared you might break under too much pressure. He could feel the stiffness in your muscles, your body wound tight with unspoken tension. His eyes narrowed with concern, but he stayed silent, letting the quiet speak for both of you.

His gaze flicked to your phone screen, catching sight of the trending tweets.

“Nightcrawler…” Damian murmured, and you lifted your head just enough to meet his eyes.

Sighing, you shifted so your cheek rested against his chest, the cool scent of his cologne grounding you. You kept scrolling, clicking on a particularly cringeworthy tweet and wincing at the fanatical comments.

“Can you believe these people?” you murmured, frustration seeping into your voice. “It’s insane.”

Sometimes you wondered how Damian and his brothers dealt with all the fanatics, the constant drooling over their hero personas—or even their civilian lives.

Damian’s grip tightened as he held you closer, his brow furrowing in disapproval as he read the tweets over your shoulder.

Repulsive. To him, it was a grotesque spectacle. The media had managed to paint the Spider into a celebrated hero, a figure of admiration, when in reality, the person behind that mask was nothing more than a monster, cloaked in deception and false heroism.

“They’re utterly obsessed,” Damian scoffed. “It’s as if they’ve completely forgotten there’s a real person behind that mask.”

“I know, right?” You sighed, closing Twitter and slipping your phone back into your pocket. “Like, I really don’t want to see those posts. They’re just—so much.”

Damian noticed your distress and instinctively started rubbing soothing circles on your back. But as his hand moved, a sharp muscle spasm seized your shoulder. You cursed, a wince escaping you as the sensation left you momentarily frozen. It felt as if someone had taken a wrench to your shoulder, yanking and twisting until every fiber protested in sharp, jarring bursts. 

Damian’s hand froze.

Muscle tear. He realized.

Without a word, he guided you gently into a nearby janitor’s closet. The door clicked shut behind you, cutting off the noise of the bustling hallway and granting you both some much-needed privacy. 

Inside, he carefully placed his hand on your elbow and began to stretch the affected muscle. You winced as a sharp twinge of pain flared, but Damian’s voice was soft and soothing.

“It’s okay,” he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple,  offering a small but comforting distraction from the pain.

Gradually, the pain eased, and you let out a sigh of relief. Your shoulders relaxed, the tight knots unwinding.

"I love you and your weird Robin skills," you said with a grateful smile, rolling your shoulders and feeling the tension dissipate.

Damian’s lips twitched into a faint, approving smile, though his voice remained gruff. “Love you too.”

He continued to watch you with a keen, sharp gaze, noticing the hood of your hoodie pulled up. His eyes traced the shadowy outline of your face, and he realized he hadn’t seen it clearly. His expression shifted to one of concern, a frown creasing his brow.

“Why haven’t you taken your hood down?” he asked quietly, his voice low and probing.

You pursed your lips, trying to edge toward the exit. But before you could make a clean getaway, Damian’s hand shot out, gripping your arm and yanking you back into him. You collided with his chest, and for a second, it felt like you’d just hugged a brick wall in a hoodie.

“And where do you think you’re going?” 

“Uh, nowhere, apparently,” you sighed, realizing escape wasn’t in the cards today.

“Look. I just didn’t want to get my hair messed up,” you continued, trying to sound casual, but the words felt hollow in the small, enclosed space.

“Oh yeah…?” Damian murmured in disbelief, his voice thick with something darker. His eyes narrowed, and without warning, he bent down to your height, his rough fingers sliding up your jacket. You felt the fabric shift and the warmth of his hand against your side.

You swallowed hard, your hands instinctively bracing against his shoulders. Your nails dug into the fabric of his uniform as you tried to push him back.

“Pull the hood off,” he demanded, his hands working insistently to tug it up. You sputtered out protests, swatting at his hands, but Damian was relentless. “Habibti, let me see! Pull it up—let me see!”

Your grip on the hood tightened, your knuckles going white as you held on for dear life. But Damian’s concern bulldozed through any resistance you put up. He mumbled curses, and suddenly shifted tactics. Bending down, his hands slid under your thighs, lifting you effortlessly. He pinned you against the wall, your legs wrapping instinctively around his waist as your weight pressed into his hips.

"Damian, stop!" you groaned, trying to push him away.

But he ignored your plea, yanking the hood off. His eyes widened in shock as he took in the full extent of your injuries. Cuts and bandages marred your face, some fresh, others scabbing over. Dark bruises colored your cheek, spreading out like ominous clouds.

“Who did this to you?” he demanded, even though he was already cursing a certain spider vigilante in his head. Damian dipped his head low, his dangerous glare cutting through you. “Tell me who hurt you, and I’ll make them pay.”

“Baby, you’re being melodramatic. It’s just a few bruises,” you deflected, avoiding his gaze. “I’ll survive.”

“Plus, it’s not like you can just go around punching everyone who hurts me,” you huffed, wincing as you tried to pull your hood back up. Damian scowled and yanked it down again.

“Yes, I can.”

“Oh my god,” you said, raising an eyebrow and trying to stifle a smile. “I hate you so much.”

Damian tightened his hold, his eyes flashing with irritation. “Our relationship status says otherwise. And I’m not letting go until I get answers.”

You squirmed in his embrace, attempting to free yourself, but he held you tightly. “Seriously, let go.”

“No.”

“You’re going to miss your first period.”

“And?”

“Your education will be in ruins.”

“Beloved, my GPA is already at a 5.0. I’ve been at the top of my class since junior high. Missing one period won’t ruin my future.”

You groaned and grabbed the nearest object—a mop. Raising it in a mock-threatening manner, you declared, “I’m seriously considering hitting you with this until you let me go.”

Damian gave a flat “Tch,” raising a hand to the metal handle. With a casual squeeze, he bent the metal in half effortlessly. You blinked.

Okay, that's a little annoying, but also super, super, super hot.

“Seriously? You’re showing off now?” you huffed, crossing your arms.

“Showing off?” Damian arched an eyebrow. “I’m merely proving a point.”

“I can handle myself!” you insisted, frustration creeping into your voice.

“Clearly,” he shot back, eyes narrowing. “That’s why you’re covered in cuts and bruises.”

“Fuck you,” you snapped, your irritation bubbling over.

“I would be delighted to,” Damian replied, his tone dripping with syrupy sweetness that was equal parts enticing and infuriating.

"Ugh!" you groaned, pulling the hood back over your face in a futile attempt to hide.

“Drop the theatrics and tell me what happened,” he sighed, tugging the hood back down. “I need to know so I can handle it.”

“I already handled it! I just need some rest, okay?” you retorted, rubbing a hand over your tired eyes. "I can fight my own battles, thank you very much."

Damian’s jaw tightened at your response, setting off alarm bells in his head. He’d need to dig deeper—because if there was one thing he was certain of, it was that you weren’t giving him the full story.

"You're not telling me everything," he said firmly. "But I’ll find out. I always do."

“Uh-huh, sure," you said, rolling your eyes as you grabbed him by the front of his uniform and yanked him closer. “You’re such a control freak, you know that?”

Damian scowled, leaning in until his forehead pressed against yours. “And you’re impossibly stubborn.”

“Yeah, well, you’re nosy.”

“Nosy?” He raised an eyebrow, his lips quirking. “I prefer the term thorough.”

“Right,” you said, barely holding back a laugh. You shook your head with a smile and leaned in, brushing your lips against his. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, honey.”

Damian’s eyes softened as he closed the distance between you. You melted into him, pulling him into a tender kiss. Damian hummed softly, the vibration tickling your lips and adding a cozy warmth to the moment. He kissed you again, and again, each one a little more affectionate than the last. Your laughter bubbled up, breathy and light, as you both got caught in a playful rhythm. His nose nudged against yours, and you couldn’t help but giggle.

The sudden ringing of the school bell cut through the moment.

“Mmph!” You pulled back slightly, a smile tugging at your lips as you gently stroked his cheek. “You… probably should get to class.”

It took a few more (okay, a lot more) minutes before Damian finally let you go. You practically had to wrestle your way out of his arms, like he was a kid clinging to a favorite toy. When you told him to go back to class instead of tagging along with you and Morgan, he sulked like a toddler.

Despite his stormy mood, you managed to convince him to head back. As you both stepped out of the closet, Damian trudged away with a grumble, throwing one last dramatic look over his shoulder.

“Behave yourself,” you laughed, waving him away before setting off to find Morgan.

When you finally spotted her by the entrance, she was holding up a flash drive like it was the Holy Grail. Meanwhile, you looked like you’d just been through a whirlwind: your hair was a tousled mess, your jacket was askew, and your tie was twisted at an odd angle. 

“Got the goods?” you asked, breathless as you straightened your tie and smoothed down your messy hair.

“Yep,” Morgan said with a grin, her eyes darting to your state of disarray. “Damn. A janitor’s closet, huh? I see it got pretty heated in there.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you said, scoffing and giving her a kick to the shin. “Nothing happened, you ass. We were just talking. I had to practically wrestle my way out because he was going nuts over my injuries.”

Morgan chuckled, tucking the flash drive into her pocket. “Looks like you’ve got your hands full with him.”

You raised an eyebrow at her. "How did you know it was the janitor’s closet, anyway?"

“CCTV,” Morgan simply shrugged. “Was checking out the live feed for security. And I figured you two were up to something when I saw you both ducking out of the room. The system was laughably easy to hack into. I was honestly surprised.”

“You’re Tony Stark’s daughter,” you snarked. “Anything less than government-level encryption is basically child’s play for you.”

Morgan grinned. “True that. But there’s one tiny issue.” She raised a finger and twirled it in the air. “I might have tripped a few alarms.”

WEE-OWW-WEE-OWW!

The distant blare of sirens cut through the air, growing louder with each passing second. Red and blue lights began to flicker through the windows.

You stared at Morgan, incredulous. 

“What. What the fuck!? What did you do?”

“Let’s just say security’s gonna be a bit more interested in our location now. Oopsie!” Morgan’s grin widened. “I had to shut down some things to avoid detection. So, the power’s going to go out in 3…2…1.”

As she finished her countdown, the lights flickered erratically before plunging the hallway into complete darkness. A heartbeat later, the wail of the announcement system cut through the silence, urgently repeating, “Please evacuate the building. Please evacuate immediately.” The strobing red emergency lights cast frantic shadows, and chaos erupted as students screamed, darting from classrooms and colliding in the dark.

Morgan spread her arms wide, a triumphant grin plastered across her face as if she’d just dropped a mic. “Boom.”

“What the hell about this screams ‘stealth’ to you?” you whisper-shouted, grabbing Morgan’s hand and pulling her toward the exit.

Morgan’s eyes gleamed with excitement as she squeezed your hand in return. "It’s way more fun this way."

You both sprinted down the dimly lit corridor, your footsteps echoing through the hallways and mingling with the blaring alarms.

Turning a corner, you nearly collided with a group of students stumbling through the chaos. Their faces were masks of panic. One of them tripped, sprawling onto the floor with an undignified thud.

“Watch it! Are you okay?” you shouted, skidding to a halt and kneeling to help the fallen student.

Morgan, unable to hold back, burst into laughter. “Dumbasses!”

You shot her a half-angry, half-exasperated look. “Just get us out of here before we get arrested for public disturbance!”

“Right behind you!” Morgan said, grabbing your hand again and pulling you both into a sprint. As you neared the exit, the muffled voices of security personnel grew louder, rushing to restore power. With one last burst of speed, you burst through the exit doors, the alarms fading into the distance.

Morgan looked over at you, her face glowing with sweat and a victorious grin. “And that’s how you make an exit.”

 ༻⊰───⋅

Friday - The Safehouse, Gotham City.

After your adrenaline-pumping escape and a bumpy ride across the city in an Uber that looked like it had seen better days—note to self: next time, cab— you finally made it back to the safehouse.

Morgan was already at the main table, surrounded by a chaotic sea of files and documents spread out across multiple screens. Her eyes were locked onto the flash drive she’d pulled from the school, her fingers flying over the keyboard as she sifted through the data.

A few steps away, you were hunched over a cluttered workbench in the tech area, surrounded by spools of web fluid and a mess of metal tools. The entire day had been spent tinkering, but finally, your whip project was coming together.

With a few final tweaks, you picked up the whip and gave it a few test swings. 

You couldn’t help but think back to when you were a kid, watching Selina work her whip with that effortless skill. You’d sit in the corner of the training room, eyes wide, totally mesmerized. She made it look so easy, so natural. Inspired, you’d sneak off to your room after her sessions, grabbing whatever you could find—a belt, a rope, anything that even remotely resembled a whip. You’d slam the door behind you and practice in secret.

Sometimes you’d catch a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror—awkward, stumbling, and kind of a hot mess—but you didn’t give a damn. You’d keep at it, again and again, dead set on matching her skill, even if it meant looking like a total idiot in the process.

CRACK!

Morgan jumped, her chair spinning around as she stared at you with wide eyes. You couldn't help but grin as you sauntered toward her, twirling the whip around your body. The webbing swirled through the air, curving gracefully around you in a move straight out of Catwoman's playbook. With a final flourish, you cracked it down onto the floor, the sharp snap echoing through the room.

Morgan’s ears flushed red, and she shifted in her chair, clearly taken aback. “Woah. That’s hot as fuck.”

You laughed, tossing her a wink. “Glad you think so. I was channeling my inner Catwoman.”

Still a bit flustered, Morgan cleared her throat and extended her hand. You placed the whip into her palm, and she inspected it closely, her fingers tracing the intricate details of your craftsmanship.

“Seriously, though,” she said, looking up at you, “Where’d you learn to handle a whip like that?”

You shrugged, trying to play it cool. “Just a little bit of practice, you know? I’ve had some pretty good teachers.”

Your gaze then shifted to her screen, where a file on Ivy's toxins was open. Charts, chemical structures, and old lab notes cluttered the display.

“Thought you were going through Octavius’ files?” you asked.

“Oh, I was," Morgan handed the whip back to you with a shrug.

"But then I stumbled on this.” She pointed at the screen. “Insane, right? Did you know Gotham University lets their Botany majors examine Ivy’s toxins? There are detailed reports from student lab projects—college students analyzing some seriously dangerous stuff. Who thinks that's a good idea?”

You arched an eyebrow. “It’s Gotham University. Top in the country. They probably consider it a rite of passage. It’s not like the city holds back on the bizarre.”

Morgan shook her head, her disbelief morphing into a bemused smile. “Seriously, though, it’s even in their chemistry curriculum. ‘Advanced Chemistry: How to Survive Ivy’s Toxins 101.’ Like, what kind of class is that?”

You chuckled. “Sounds like standard Gotham fare. The city has a way of turning even the most mundane academic subjects into survival skills.”

As you stared at the file, your mind drifted to Ivy—Pamela Isley, who had once been a big part of your life. Back when she was close with Selina, you even used to call her Aunt Isley. It felt right at the time, natural, given how much she was around.

One memory stood out: Ivy had to leave town, and she’d entrusted Selina with her beloved plants. You were just a kid, but you remember how excited you were to have Ivy’s vibrant greenery filling the place. Selina had promised to take good care of them, but… she forgot. Just plain forgot to water them.

When Ivy returned, the plants were withered and dead. For someone like Ivy—an eco-terrorist with a green thumb so legendary she could probably make a cactus bloom in a snowstorm—this was more than just a mistake. It felt like a betrayal.

The fallout was brutal. Ivy was livid, and Selina was wrecked. If you hadn’t been there to calm things down, Ivy might’ve strangled Selina with a vine on the spot.

Morgan sighed dramatically, pushing her chair back from the screen and stretching like a cat. "I’m so over these files," she announced, spinning around to face you with a mischievous glint in her eye. "We need to do something fun."

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued as she started navigating through a map on her command center. "What are you up to?"

"Finding us a little adventure," she replied, her grin widening as she zoomed in on a spot on the outskirts of Gotham. "Look at this—an old, supposedly abandoned greenhouse. Rumor has it, it’s still full of Ivy’s plants. We should go check it out."

You blinked, taken aback by the suggestion. "You want to go trespassing in an abandoned greenhouse filled with potentially dangerous plants?"

Morgan shrugged with a carefree grin. "Why not? It’s way more exciting than sitting here with these boring files. Besides, think of the intel we could gather! Maybe even some samples. If you're serious about this hero thing, having some cures on hand could be pretty useful."

You raised an eyebrow. "Last time I checked, my focus was on tech companies. Not plants."

Morgan leaned back in her chair, throwing her hands up. "C'mon, it’ll be fun! We could call it a ‘field trip’ for our mission."

You scoffed, but a smirk tugged at your lips as you grabbed your glasses. “I thought you were supposed to be the smart and responsible one among the two of us?”

Morgan shot you a playful smile as she grabbed her jacket. “Smart enough to know when we need a break.”

She slung her jacket over her shoulder with a casual flick. “And who knows? We might stumble into something interesting or at least have a hell of a time.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Fine, but if this turns into a mess, you’re the one explaining it to Tony.”

“Deal,” Morgan grinned, heading toward the door. “Now let’s get out of here before I lose my mind.”

 ༻⊰───⋅

Saturday, 12:34 AM - Ivy's 'Abandoned' Warehouse, Gotham City.

The moon hung high in the sky, casting a silvery glow over the overgrown landscape as you swung through the rainy Gotham air. Raindrops pattered against your suit, mixing with the cool breeze as you guided both yourself and Morgan down toward the warehouse’s perimeter. You landed softly on the other side of the fence, the wet ground beneath you squelching slightly.

The warehouse loomed in the distance, shrouded in shadows and engulfed by a thick veil of greenery. Vines and creeping plants had swallowed the building, twisting their way up the walls and breaking through the broken windows. Shrubs and wild foliage sprawled across the once-smooth concrete, creating a tangled jungle that had overtaken the area.

You and Morgan navigated through the thick underbrush, your footsteps muffled by the lush carpet of foliage. 

“Welcome to the jungle,” Morgan whispered, adjusting her glasses as raindrops collected on the lenses. She reached for a flashlight, flicking it on to cut through the gloomy darkness.

“Did you really have to pick the creepiest spot in Gotham?” you muttered, glancing around warily. Your spider senses buzzed faintly, a low hum that told you to stay alert, though you weren’t entirely sure what you should be on the lookout for.

As you approached the warehouse’s entrance, you noticed the heavy wooden doors were slightly ajar, propped open by a stubborn vine wedged in the gap. You took a few steps back, then charged at the door with all your might. It crashed inward with a resounding clang, sending splinters flying and the vine recoiling.

CLANG!

You kicked the door aside and stepped into a scene that looked like something straight out of a botanical horror movie. The interior of the warehouse was a riot of green. Hanging plants and tendrils formed a dense canopy overhead. The remnants of old plant pots and scientific equipment were half-buried under layers of creeping vines and moss.

“Keep your eyes peeled for anything useful,” you said, stepping inside.

The plan was simple: infiltrate the location, gather as much information as possible, and leave before anyone even noticed you were there.

Your boots squelched slightly on the damp ground as you made your way further into the labyrinth of greenery. Morgan followed close behind, her flashlight beam scanning the surroundings.

“Looks like she really made herself at home. Can’t believe she’d leave all these beauties behind,” she murmured.

After a few minutes of searching, you stumbled upon a makeshift lab tucked away in a corner of the warehouse. Old tables and shelves, now covered in a thick layer of dust and grime, held an assortment of glassware, old notebooks, and strange samples.

Morgan’s eyes lit up as she approached the lab. “This must be it! Look at all this stuff.”

Kneeling down, she began sifting through the clutter, her flashlight revealing dusty glassware, faded notebooks, and a variety of botanical samples in various states of preservation. She carefully picked up a few jars, examining the contents with growing fascination.

You stood guard by the door, senses on high alert. The slow hum of your spider senses gradually intensified, morphing into a persistent, almost blaring buzz in the back of your mind. It felt like a magnetic pull, drawing your focus to every flicker of shadow and rustle of the unseen. 

Morgan, oblivious to your heightened alertness, was engrossed in a particularly worn notebook.

"This is so fucking cool," she said, her eyes wide with excitement. "Check out these notes—they look like they’re from Ivy’s earlier research. She was experimenting with ways to boost plant growth, mixing toxins, and even concocting some kind of antidote."

As Morgan continued to study the notebook, the buzzing in your senses grew stronger. You tensed, feeling a prickling chill race up your spine and the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. There was something else in the warehouse—something you couldn’t immediately identify, but it was there.

“Morgan,” you said quietly. “I’m getting a bad feeling.”

Morgan looked up from her work, fingers curled around a test tube. “What do you mean?”

“Just keep your eyes open,” you warned, eyes narrowing as you scanned the shadows. “Start packing up and be quick. Something doesn’t feel right.”

Morgan’s fingers flew over the lab equipment as she grabbed several samples and shoved them into her bag. The air seemed to grow thicker, the plants rustling with an almost eerie liveliness.

!!!

“We need to go. Now!” you hissed, urgently grabbing Morgan and pulling her to her feet.

Morgan flinched but scrambled up, stuffing the worn notebook she’d found into her jacket. “Alright… let me just—”

Before she could finish, your spider senses exploded into a full-blown scream of warning.

DANGER.

“Get down!”

Without warning, you grabbed Morgan and pushed her down behind some crates, your suit beginning to uncloak.

A thick vine lashed out from the shadows, slamming into your side with a force that knocked the wind out of you. Pain exploded where the vine struck, radiating through your ribs as you skidded backward and crashed into a metal rack.

Your helmet hadn’t fully materialized in time, and the impact with the shelving unit sent a jarring shock through your skull, leaving you dazed and disoriented.

"A little spider has wandered into my web~"

Shit.

Warmth trickled down from your forehead where the impact had split the skin. With a shaky breath, you pushed yourself off the rack, using it for support as you steadied yourself.

"Hello, crazy plant lady," you quipped, your helmet materializing as the voice modulator kicked in.

You weren’t her estranged niece now; you were Nightcrawler, Gotham's latest hero.

From above, Ivy unfurled herself from the ceiling, smirking as she lounged on a sprawling leaf. Vines curled around her with languid grace, reacting to her slightest gesture as if extensions of her will.

"Ah, Gotham's newest little hero," Ivy's voice was a melodious yet chilling purr, her laughter echoing softly through the warehouse. "What brings you to my sanctuary?"

The slits in your mask narrowed as you drew your claws and unclipped your whip from your belt. Ivy’s eyes narrowed at the choice of weapons, a flicker of recognition in her gaze. She was clearly connecting the similarities between you and Catwoman.

"Oh, just swinging by to see what all the fuss is about. Heard you've been busy in Gotham."

Ivy's smile sharpened, a glint of admiration lighting up her emerald eyes.

"Hm. Spunk," she purred, hands moving to tangle in her hair. "I do appreciate that in my visitors."

Out of the corner of your visor, you spotted Morgan inching away. You gave her a discreet nod, signaling her to keep going while you kept your focus locked on Ivy.

"So, this place wasn’t as abandoned as I thought," you said, trying to keep Ivy talking and distracted. "For someone who supposedly retired from the spotlight, you sure know how to throw a party."

Ivy threw her head back and laughed. "Retired?" she repeated. "Oh, honey, you have no idea."

Around you, vines stirred, their sinewy tendrils snaking up your legs like snakes. Unfazed, you subtly shifted your weight, and then, with a swift slash of your claws, the vines split apart. You flipped away, slipping out of their grasp with ease.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t notice when my darlings are disturbed?” Ivy’s voice dripped with mockery. “Just when I finally manage to reclaim this space from concrete and steel, pests like you decide to get curious.”

“Look, I’ve got a busy schedule,” you quipped, narrowly dodging a lashing vine. “So how about we skip the tango and save us both a night of pain?”

“Oh, you’re simply delightful,” Ivy purred,sultry and chilling. “Very well, little spider. Let’s see if you can keep up.”

In a heartbeat, Ivy was in motion. Vines shot through the air like whips, each one aiming to entangle or strike. You sidestepped a thick vine that snapped past your ear and rolled under another that slammed into the floor where you’d just been. Your senses were on fire.

Beep!

In the corner of your visor, Morgan’s face flickered into view—a welcome sight amid the chaos. The camera feed was shaky, but you could make out her anxious expression as she huddled behind a stack of crates, her phone clutched tightly in her hand.

“Are you okay?” you hissed through the comms, trying to keep your voice steady despite the whirlwind of vines around you.

“M Outside! Sorry! I…I didn’t realize Ivy was here!” Morgan said, her voice tinged with panic. “I thought this place was a total ghost town!”

“Apologize later!” you shouted back, ducking a swinging vine. “Just stay out of sight. I’ll catch up with you once I deal with the plant lady!”

With a quick flip, you barely managed to dodge another flurry of whipping vines. You drew back your whip and snapped it towards the incoming tendrils, slicing through them. 

Ivy scowled, her eyes narrowing as she watched her plants get cut down. She retaliated, sending a fresh wave of vines hurtling toward you.

You dodged and weaved, the thick, green tendrils brushing against your suit. Each crack of your whip was followed by a sharp hiss of defeated foliage.

You charged through, ducking and weaving to avoid the onslaught. When you were close enough, you landed a solid left hook to Ivy’s face, the impact echoing with a satisfying thud. Ivy’s head snapped back with a sharp yelp of pain. You laughed, not giving her a moment to regroup, and threw another punch straight to her jaw.

JAB!

“Had enough, or should I keep going?” you taunted.

Ivy’s eyes flared with rage. “You little—”

Leaping onto a stack of crates to dodge another lash from her vines, you shot a web at Ivy. The sticky strands wrapped around her wrists, pinning her securely against a nearby support beam.

Ivy struggled against the webbing, her vines twitched with agitation as they lashed out. You kept your whip and claws at the ready, prepared for any sudden moves.

“Alright, listen up,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “Unless you want more of your precious plants turned into mulch, I suggest you calm down.”

“Calm down?” Ivy hissed, her frustration barely contained. “You’re the intruder here, desecrating my sanctuary. I won’t tolerate this!”

You took a deep breath, trying to defuse the situation. “Look, I’m really sorry about the intrusion. Didn’t mean to step on your botanical toes. We were just here to explore—”

“Explore?” Ivy’s brow shot up. “Is that why your friend took of my vials and papers?”

You stared at her, blinking a few times. Then, with a sheepish shrug, you said, “Okay, to be fair, you left that stuff lying around. It kind of looked like it was up for grabs. Plus, we didn’t exactly see a ‘Keep Out’ sign.”

“So, it’s a case of ‘finders keepers,’ then?” she scowled. “And here I thought you were a little more refined than that.”

“Hey!” you said, walking towards her until you were just a foot away. “I’m just calling it like I see it, lady. Maybe if you knew how to clean up, we wouldn’t be in this mess.”

Ivy tossed her hair over her shoulder, the golden-orange strands cascading like vines down her back. She leaned closer, her lips brushing against your jaw, her breath warm and tantalizing against your skin.

“Well, if you’re so keen on exploring,” she purred, her voice a sultry whisper, “I could show you something that’ll really satisfy your curiosity.”

!!!

Your spider senses flared with urgent warnings, but before you could react, Ivy thrust a slender vine beneath the edge of your helmet. In an instant, a cloud of pollen erupted inside your mask, catching you completely off guard. You gasped and choked, stumbling backward as your vision blurred and your nose was overwhelmed by the suffocating, heady scent of the pollen.

Your visor’s alarms blared, vitals flashing urgently:

TOXIN DETECTED.

“Damn it,” you grimaced as a searing heat began to radiate through your skin and bones. The prickling sensation quickly escalated into an intense burn, making it feel like your blood was boiling beneath your skin.

“Morgan!” you called out. “Find me an escape route, now!”

"Underestimated me?" Ivy cackled. "Thought you could resist my charms, did you?"

Morgan’s shaky voice crackled through the comms. “I’m searching for a way out! Just hang in there!”

“Oh, you won’t be escaping that easily,” Ivy sneered at you, still trapped in your webs. Despite her restraints, her vines writhed and twisted with a life of their own. “This is my domain, and you’re not leaving until I say so.”

You gritted your teeth, struggling against the searing pain as the vines inched closer. “Alright, I’m really sorry for this, but I’m done playing nice.”

With a sharp flick of your wrist, you shot a web at a vase perched precariously on a high shelf. The vase tumbled through the air and crashed down onto Ivy’s head, shattering into a shower of shards and a splash of crimson.

Ivy screamed as the shards rained down, a flurry of leaves and flowers cascading over her head and shoulders, momentarily obscuring her vision. 

Morgan's face reappeared on your visor, her brow furrowed with worry. “There’s a clear window—no vines blocking it! Hurry! I marked it on your map!”

Glancing at the map in your visor, you spotted the indicated window. 

"This was nice, but I’ve got places to be and people to save," you heaved, your voice breathy as you kicked away a lashing vine. "So if you don’t mind, I'll be taking my leave."

THWIP.

Launching yourself through the open window, you felt the cool, rain-soaked Gotham air slap your face as you soared into the night. The roar of the storm and the distant hum of the city below filled your senses. Behind you, Ivy’s furious shouts pierced through the downpour, her curses mingling with the crack of thrashing vines slamming against the walls.

“PEST!”

 ༻⊰───⋅

Saturday, 1:05 AM - Crime Alley, Gotham City.

"Robin, status?" Oracle's voice beeped in from Damian's earpiece.

Damian was perched on a rooftop, jade eyes scanning the dark expanse of Crime Alley below. The rain poured down in relentless sheets, the cold droplets cascading off the edges of his hood and dripping onto his shoulders.

From his vantage point, he could see the dilapidated buildings lining Crime Alley, their broken windows and graffiti-covered walls illuminated by the sporadic flashes of lightning. The streets below were deserted, the few brave souls out in the storm moving quickly, their faces obscured by umbrellas and hoods. Puddles formed in the uneven pavement, reflecting the occasional flicker of streetlights.

He lifted a gloved hand to his communication device, the wet leather squeaking slightly against the earpiece.

"I'm in my usual position," he reported, his voice steady. "No sign of activity. Just monitoring. Slow night."

"Figured," Nightwing's voice spoke up. "There is a storm."

“Ishth Gotham,” Jason's voice chimed in, muffled as if he was chewing something. “When isn’t there a storm?”

"Are you eating right now?" Tim's voice squeaked with disbelief, the sound sharp and incredulous over the comms. "Again? Really?"

"Yeah?" Jason retorted, taking another bite of whatever he was munching on. "A guy's gotta eat. Maybe if you actually ate more, you wouldn’t be so scrawny, Timberland."

"I'm fit!" Tim snapped back, voice cracking. "And can you please stop using my name? We have codenames for a reason."

"You're the genius who called yourself 'Drake'," Damian scoffed as he kept his eyes trained on the rain-soaked expanse below.

"Demon brat's got a point," Jason drawled, the sound of him slurping a drink faintly audible over the comms. "Harley still calls you Duck-Boy."

"Just focus on the job," Nightwing interjected, his voice slicing through the bickering with an authoritative edge. "Tonight’s a washout. Red Robin and I are on patrol near the docks. We’ve encountered a few low-level crooks, but nothing major."

"Alright," Oracle’s voice came through again. "Stay on high alert. Let me know if anything changes."

As the comms went silent, Damian pulled out his phone, the screen lighting up against the storm's backdrop. For a fleeting moment, his stoic expression softened. A nearly imperceptible smile tugged at his lips as he glanced at the lock screen—a picture of you, warm and content in one of his shirts, your face framed by tousled hair and a genuine smile.

He noted the time—1:05 AM. Given your unpredictable sleep patterns, you were likely still awake. Damian's finger hovered over the screen, caught between sending a quick message or making a call. But before he could decide, a sharp gust of wind swept across the rooftop, making his cape snap and sending a chill through his soaked uniform.

He slipped the phone back into his belt, shook off the cold, and refocused on the scene below. His eyes scanned the shadowy expanse: dark alleys, rain-slicked roads, and flickering, rusting shop signs.

Then, a sudden, unexpected movement shattered the monotony. A flash of red and white streaked across the skyline, its vibrant colors stark against the darkened sky. A web shot out, glinting briefly in the intermittent lightning before anchoring itself to a nearby building.

THWIP.

There was a pause.

Damian’s lips curled into a sharp snarl. His fingers tightened around the grip of his grappling gun, his mind shifting into high gear. With a scowl, he tapped his earpiece.

“Oracle,” Damian began, boots crunching as he moved to the edge of the rooftop. “I have visual on the spider vigilante. Engaging in pursuit.”

Without waiting for a reply, he fired the grappling gun. The line shot through the air with a metallic twang, slicing through the rain-soaked night. He felt the jolt as the grappling hook latched onto a distant anchor, pulling him forward.

As he swung through the storm, a fierce thrill coursed through him, like a bird unleashed with new wings. With the city sprawled out beneath him and the rain pelting against his face, Robin was ready to do what he did best.

Hunt.

 ༻⊰───⋅

"It's going to take hours to get this smell out of my suit," you heaved, wrinkling your nose as you fired a web into the distant skyline. The line stuck firmly to a building, and with a jarring lurch, you swung deeper into the city.

Morgan clung to you for dear life, her voice barely audible over the rush of air. “Not the time to worry about laundry! Focus on not crashing into something! And maybe on not dying from the poison?!”

"Hey, I’m just saying," you shot back with a strained chuckle, “if I survive this, I’m gonna need to have this suit professionally cleaned.”

Morgan’s grip tightened, and she shouted, “Survive first, clean later!"

With a yank of your web, you aimed for the next rooftop, but as you hurtled through the air, you realized that you’d miscalculated the distance. The rooftop was rushing in too fast, and panic surged through you like ice.

Your stomach lurched, and in a split-second decision, you threw Morgan forward, trying to cushion her fall. She landed with a thud, a breathless gasp escaping her as she hit the roof.

You, however, weren’t so fortunate. Your foot snagged the edge of the roof awkwardly, sending a sharp pain shooting up your leg.

CRACK.

The sickening crack of bone snapping echoed through the air as your ankle twisted violently. The force of the impact jolted your entire body, sending you sprawling onto the rough, gravelly rooftop.

“Great…” you muttered through gritted teeth, struggling to push yourself up onto your hands and knees. Your body felt like it was on fire from the inside out, the toxin’s effects amplifying the pain with each passing second.

You bit down hard on your tongue, the metallic taste of blood bubbling into your mouth. You fought to keep yourself upright, but your legs felt like lead, and you crumpled onto the rooftop, unable to fully bear your weight.

“Shit!” Morgan scrambled to her feet, her face a mask of panic and concern. “Are you okay? What happened?”

"Just… a little off target," you panted, wincing as you assessed the damage. Your visor had taken a hit during the fall, causing the data to flicker erratically. Through the static, you could still make out the crucial info: a broken bone.

“It's fine… Just a broken ankle,” you added, trying to maintain your composure despite the sluggishness creeping into your movements. 

“You’re getting brain fog and dizziness,” Morgan said urgently, her fingers flipping through the notebook she’d snatched earlier. “It’s a side effect of the toxin. We need to get you to the safehouse—”

Before she could finish, you shook your head with a groan. “No. You call a cab and head there. I’ll swing.”

“Are you insane?!” Morgan nearly shouted, grabbing your arm in panic. “You can barely stand, let alone swing through the city! We need to get you help, now!”

You pushed her away, trying to ignore the throbbing in your ankle. “It’s not like I have much of a choice. The suit’s tampered, I think. Look.”

You attempted to uncloack, but the metal sputtered and glitched erratically. “See? I can’t uncloack. If you’re seen with me, they’ll find us out in no time. I can’t risk that.”

Morgan’s eyes darted between you and the malfunctioning suit, her face a mix of worry and frustration. “This is all my fault. I’m so sorry. I should have—”

“Stop,” you cut her off, wincing as the pain intensified. “It’s not your fault. Just get to the safehouse. I’ll manage.”

Tears of frustration welled up in Morgan’s eyes. “I can’t just leave you like this!”

“You don’t have a choice,” you said firmly, trying to steady your voice. “If we’re both caught, it’ll be worse. Now go! I’ll be fine.”

With one last, apologetic glance, Morgan pulled out her phone and dialed for a cab, her hands trembling.

 ༻⊰───⋅

Damian, concealed in the shadows of the rooftop, landed with a muted thud. He crouched behind the crumbling ledge of an old brick wall, the slits in his mask narrowing as he took in the scene unfolding just a few feet away.

He watched as you struggled to regain your footing, your movements pained and uneven. The girl beside you—her rain-soaked silhouette a blur against the storm—was clearly in a panic, her phone clutched tightly as she fumbled with it.

‘A civilian,’ Damian thought, frustration lining his features. Launching a direct attack now would be reckless. He had to be certain the vigilante was genuinely on their own before making a move.

After a tense moment, the girl finally moved and dashed down the fire escape, her figure barely visible through the downpour. Damian squinted through the sheets of rain, straining to catch a glimpse of her features, but the storm blurred his view into an indistinct smear of color and motion.

The moment she was out of sight, his attention snapped back to you. You took a deep, ragged breath, bracing yourself. Then, with a sudden burst of movement, you launched yourself into the night. 

Damian followed, his movements fluid and precise as he pushed off from the ledge. His cape billowed behind him like a dark, flowing banner, and he darted into the storm. 

Below, the streets were a chaotic blur of honking horns and glaring headlights, their harsh lights slicing through the darkness like knives. Heavy sheets of rain hammered down, obscuring your vision and drenching you to the bone. Water seeped through the cracks in your suit, each drop feeling like an icy needle against your overheated, feverish skin.

The sensations were overwhelming. It was too much. The pain, the heat, the storm—it was all too much.

Your breath came in ragged gasps, every inhale bringing more of Ivy’s insidious toxin into your lungs.

In one desperate swing, you miscalculated the web’s trajectory. It shot out too low, sending you plummeting uncontrollably below.

Cursing through gritted teeth, you were hurled down into traffic. Everything was a blur as you slammed into the side of a car, metal denting and screams deafening your ears. Your shoulder bore the brunt of the collision, sending shockwaves of pain through your bones.

For a brief, suspended moment, everything went dark.

A cold, mechanical voice sliced through the void, its tone harsh and insistent. Maggie’s synthetic voice, though devoid of human warmth, was tinged with urgency.

“Immediate response required. Vitals are critically low. Consciousness levels decreasing. Current status is life-threatening. Please respond.”

Abruptly, your senses snapped back into sharp focus. You jolted awake with a ragged gasp, your breath coming in frantic bursts. Your vision was a fractured mosaic of blinding lights and shadowy figures. The sounds of blaring horns and panicked shouts crashed back into your ears, tires screeching all around you.

Morgan’s voice crackled through the static, panic evident in her tone. “I’m at the safehouse! Where are you? I couldn't reach you! What’s going on?”

“Change of plans,” you managed, your voice strained. “I won’t make it to the safehouse in time.”

You tapped the side of your visor, making a map flicker to life through the cracks and glitches. The display was unstable, but it highlighted a route to your apartment.

“You know where my mom's apartment is, right?” you heaved. “That’s where I’m heading.”

Entering your apartment was risky, but with your condition worsening and death looming, it was the closest refuge you could manage.

Damian, hidden in the alleyway, watched you with a furrowed brow. What he initially wrote off as rookie mistakes now seemed out of character. Your disoriented movements were starkly different from the precise maneuvers he had seen in news footage and CCTV feeds. He had been tracking your case closely, and this chaos didn't match the profile he had built.

He watched as you struggled to stand, your legs shaking with each attempt. The driver's shouts were drowned out by the storm of noise around you. Your strained apologies were barely audible. Desperation marked your actions as you fired another web, using it to pull yourself up and away from the wrecked car and the angry crowd.

Damian cursed under his breath and quickly took off after you. 

He tracked your erratic path through twisted, narrow streets until he saw you aim for an apartment building. With a quick stretch of your arm, you shot a web toward a balcony, but your aim was off again.

Another sloppily thrown web sent you slamming into the windows of the apartment. The metal edge dug into your ribs with brutal force, knocking the wind out of you. You gasped, your lungs burning as you struggled to draw in air. Pain radiated from your side, and shards of glass sprayed everywhere.

Damian, perched on the rooftop across the street, stared in disbelief. This was Catwoman’s apartment—Selina Kyle’s. The worst possible scenario unfolded in his mind. To him, it looked like a break-in. His jaw clenched tightly, and his fingers gripped the edge of his grappling gun, knuckles whitening with the force of his anger.

Pest.

Without hesitation, Damian leapt into action. He aimed for the fire escape with single-minded intensity, propelling himself toward it with a powerful thrust. His boots hammered against the metal steps, causing them to buckle and the entire structure to groan and rattle under the force of his descent. 

In the corner of his eye, he saw your figure slip into the window.

Tunnel-visioned and driven by a surge of protectiveness, Damian kicked the door to the fire escape open, the metal panel scraping roughly across the floor. His father would have his head for causing unnecessary public damage—something Robin was frequently under fire for—but at that moment, he couldn't have cared less.

"Was that a crash?!" Nightwing's voice crackled through the comm line.

"I think it's coming from demon brat's side. What's the report, squirt?"

Damian merely growled in response as he began to stalk down the hallway. His tall figure, cloaked in shadows, cast long, dark lines across the floor as he moved. He cracked his knuckles, the sound sharp and menacing over the comms.

"Someone's about to learn the price of crossing me."

 ༻⊰───⋅

Dazed and disoriented, you slipped into the building, the rough edge of the window scraping against your battered body. As you tumbled through your apartment, you hit the floor with a heavy thud, the impact shaking your entire frame. Your head struck the ground with a thump, stars exploding in your vision.

For a brief, haunting moment, there was silence—deep, oppressive silence. Then, a cold, creeping dread slithered through you.

You clawed at the floor, your body shaking.

"Mom? Mom, please! I need you!" Your voice cracked, a raw, fear seeping through every syllable. "Mom, are you there? Please, help me!"

Tears streamed down your face, mingling with the sweat and blood as you cried out into the empty, echoing apartment. The lights were off, casting the space into a suffocating darkness that seemed to press in on you.

Desperately, you stumbled into Selina’s bedroom. Your heart sank as you noticed the absence of her suit—no sleek, black leather or whip. She must have been out on patrol.

A deafening crash shattered the silence as the apartment door was ripped from its hinges. Before you could fully react, a rough hand clamped down on you, throwing you to the floor.

Your vision blurred in and out of focus as you were pinned to the floor. A heavy foot pressed mercilessly against your chest, crushing your ribs with every breath. The weight lifted, then slammed down again, ripping through your suit with a sickening crunch. The suit uncloaked, its torn pieces clinging to your clothes, leaving you exposed in just your undershirt and pants.

Through the dim, flickering light, the outline of your attacker became clearer. A katana was unsheathed with a chilling rasp, its cold blade pressed menacingly against your neck. The steel gleamed ominously, catching the sparse light and reflecting a deadly shimmer. The edge was so close you could feel its icy touch, a mere breath away from slicing into your flesh.

The thought of that forced you to tilt your head back, exposing more of your neck to the shadowy figure looming over you.

Tall and imposing, the figure was clad in grey and black armor, with a black cape flowing behind them. A red emblem, unmistakably the symbol of an R, was stitched onto their chest.

A cold realization cut through the fog of pain and fear—Robin?

<- PREVIOUS | NEXT ->

 ༻⊰───⋅

dundunDUN

whatchu think bookiebears

surely the batfam will handle this well

[alienpossession]

You have to do more Mike and definitely explore some shenanigan with Steven back home. And maybe explore the trainee system more like what apushforfolly did in the original version. Love everything you do!

In regards to Mike, well, he did pretty solid for the cause despite Master's departure to the States. The nerd that stayed behind witnessed at first how Mike wasted his potential and charms with endless parties and lonely workout, so one particular night, the nerd intervened during dinner

"You have to go back to your root. Look inside that meat puppet's mind to find his essence as a human and exploit it for the cause, don't just waste your time with aimless parties as if you're still not the Master's subject. He will be disappointed seeing you wasted such a good puppet, you know?"

"Oh, you wanna see me working? You wanna see me utilizing all the charm this puppet has? Just so you know, we travelled from light years away, I deserved some break. But if you challenged me, well, even the entire city can be under my control,"

"Well, I'll let your action and achievement speaks for itself," the nerd said as he left the dinner table, not interested to see Mike any longer unless he brought some tangible proof of his success

----

The following morning

"So it seems like someone is back to his good old routine once again, no more travelling for a while, I'm staying put, so it means I have some more time available for me to kickstart my online coaching program once again. I'm looking for 8 people who are willing to bust their ass and ready to give 100% effort in order to take that physique to the very next level. You will be working with myself, my team, we will guide you along the way and coach you for over 16 weeks period so this will take you up to the end of this year. If you find this interesting, click the link below--"

And as the story ended, the nerd blew his load all over his sweatpants as his thoughts already went ahead with the idea of Mike subduing all the 8 clueless men thinking they'll get better physique with the help of a renowned fitness coach only to be turned into mindless, docile puppets. And that's exactly what happened as the updates started to appear in his chat between Mike for the next couple days. It surely didn't help that the Mike's puppet really managed to drive the points home with his detailed description on the takeover or what kind of conversation he is having with the prey, either on the way to the takeover, mid-way the process or after the whole thing. For example, this video Mike sent to the nerd right at the same night of Mike's morning call for participants drove the nerd to breaking point as Mike said

"Finally, you look better with mini-mes swimming inside your brain, you were so dumbfounded at first when I spat on you huh?"

"Yeah fuck that, you know Joshua is a bit gay for ya, that spat turned him on LOL!"

"Well, you clearly looked quite eager, Josh. Maybe you do like my spit *proceed to spit to Josh gaping mouth, which Josh reciprocated with swallowing it and then licking his lips*"

Right when Josh lunged to Mike for a sloppy kiss and what probably happened right after, the video ended as Mike grabbed his phone right in time to end the videos.....

Several times, rarely though, Mike even boldly have a video call in public with the puppet in tow to describe what went down to the nerd

"Hey there dweeb, I know you know this daddy. Exactly, Frederick is now part of our little collectives! Are you around? We are in his usual cafe where you eyed him a couple weeks ago editing his Youtube content, do swing by if you wanna get stuffed by his dad's cock, yeah you pervert, you watched a good and harmonious family vlogger to lust over the dad and thinking how you can corrupt him, well here he is ready to pummel your mouth with his musty cock fresh from his workout regimen with the reliable Mikey,"

Of course the nerd ran for his life to the cafe 3 blocks from his office upon receiving the video, but again, that's not really a normal occurence as Mike mostly just sent a picture with accompanying short caption after his conversion, like when he described the first puppet he converted after the "call for clients" video released

"Happy to inform that there's a brand new controller inside Leon Walker,"

You gulped as your face turned beet red as you found yourself unable to swallow your lunch due to the shock you got from the text message that just casually popped up in your phone.....is he for real?

"Yeah, I know you subscribed to his OnlyFans, well, look at how helpful I am for you by turning your favorite content creator to give you free, even better and outlandish performance for private! Come join us later tonight in my penthouse for the exhibit! I know you've been commenting how insanely hot it will be for Leon to suck his own cock while getting his butt plugged, well~~~"

Other times, the message that accompanied the possession tend to be even shorter

"Explaining the hierarchy of the puppet to the recent convert, he was such a tool that only knows how to workout, he should be thankful that an alien takeover his body,"

Or "greedy muscle beast of a fucker got what he deserved, turned into 270 lbs bottom bitch with no more free will for a boutique gym boy like me," which caused the nerd to burst out in his day job's office bathroom upon receiving the update

Yet, as explained before, Mike loved details so, when the client is extra special, he went on to great details explaining the whole sequence. For starter, when he explained how he took down Mike's hometown best friend

"You should have seen his face when I slapped the cold slimy alien right to his ear mid-workout. He is Mike's best friend from his previous lives and my memory is so vivid, I can really tell that they both loved each other but simply not informed, some kind of unreciprocated love. And the thing is, the love is reciprocated, they just didn't mention it to each other when they still could. Or maybe it's all just my made up story LOL, both of them are straight as an arrow and he even married last year to this beautiful woman which he will abandon as he is only going to serve Mike now. I mean, you really have to feel that tight hole of his, it's surreal, and that made him a great asset to have around with me. Truly a tale of two best friend finally connected once more and become inseparable ever since"

But there's nothing that prepared the nerd for Mike's latest conquest, as the nerd wakes up this morning to the news that the startup he worked for just got bought by a VC and the deal was finalized last night. The company's messaging app turned chaotic as "CEO Office" released a rather cold statement that there will be a townhall later today to explain on what really went down and what's the direction forward for the startup while all the staffers, even some of the upper management, frantically communicated with quite colorful words among each others.

The nerd tried to contact Mike to explain to him about this dire situation and whether Mike has solution to get the nerd's out from the predicament, but much to his surprise (and sick arousal), Mike sent a video around 30 minutes ago with the simple caption of

"See you in the office"

His softening morning wood went hard once again as if there's a button being pressed and he instantly started to leak as he realized what Mike did. Is Mike for real? His own CEO? The nerd knows that his boss is hot but this is something they discussed before, that he wanted to have an environment where there's no alien whatsoever and just people doing regular jobs to keep some semblance of normalcy in an otherwise crazy world of the extraterrestrial debauchery. Seems like Mike didn't keep that part of the agreement with this breach, but deep down, he's very much aroused that Mike finally didn't listen to him and even went against his wish. As another picture appeared from Mike followed with the sign of him typing another message, the nerd looked at his screen anxiously

"This was yesterday, moments before disaster, for him obviously. In the next 24 hours after this picture is taken, he's braindead, divorced his wife with a simple text message and sell and exit his beloved startups to pursue a lifelong passion for converting people to Master's way outside of this cramped desert country and having a nerd licking his body dry and practically become his live-in servant as they travel across the world. The question is, will the nerd resign from his boring human job and join his braindead former boss he fantasized every night?"

Then, the phone rings, it's his CEO, and he clearly knows what's his answer gonna be

------

Will make Steven's later, wow so happy that some of yall are still excited for this series! Keep the suggestion coming!

[dindjarindiaries]

‘why is it, that whenever we see each other, you’re always covered in blood?’

for our boy din 🥹

Risk

character: Din Djarin (The Mandalorian)

prompt: "Why is it that whenever we see each other, you're always covered in blood?"

main masterlist • prompt masterlist

You woke to the sound of a fist pounding against your front door in endless succession. You sat up straight in bed, your eyes widened as you instinctively reached for the blaster on your bedside table. After taking a few breaths to steady yourself and gather your bearings, you dared to tiptoe out of your bed and make a slow approach towards the door.

The knocking continued. You lifted your blaster and pushed ahead, only pausing once you were close enough to reach the tiny, sliding peephole that would give you a glimpse of who was outside.

Expecting the worst, a quiet gasp passed through your lips as soon as you caught the shine of silver armor.

You lowered your blaster and opened the door. It slid aside to reveal Din's full form, his weight shifting between his feet as his visor gave you an obvious once-over.

"Are you okay?" Din's modulated voice was breathless.

You huffed and raised your brow. "I'm fine." Giving him a similar once-over, your heart rate picked up at the sight of crimson smeared upon various parts of his armor, most notably his cuirass. You kept your tone light as you spoke again. "Why is it that whenever we see each other, you're always covered in blood?"

Din exhaled, taking a step closer to lift his gloved hand to the side of your neck. "I'd rather it be on me than on you."

He glanced over his shoulder, the leather by your neck groaning as he gently tightened his grasp. Din lowered his hand to your shoulder and lifted the other to your arm, guiding you back inside your home. He paused, however, to let his visor meet your gaze.

"Can I come in?"

You chuckled and pulled him inside with you. "You don't need permission to come inside, Din."

Din didn't respond to that. Instead, he focused on making sure your door was secured closed behind him. Your chest tightened.

"What's going on, Din?"

The strain in your voice caused Din to face you again. He tilted his helmet in a slow, soft motion. "I'm sorry for scaring you." Din gestured with his helmet to your bedroom door. "You didn't answer your comm."

You raised a single eyebrow. "I was asleep." You gave the pauldron with his mudhorn signet a playful punch. "Some of us don't pick fights in the middle of the night."

Din huffed. "Right."

You gave him a more obvious once-over. "Is this your blood, or someone else's?"

Din's hands tightened into fists. "Which would you prefer?"

"Take a guess."

Din closed whatever distance was left between the two of you, cradling your face in his gloved hands as he nodded. "I'm fine." His helmet gently fell against your forehead. "And thankfully, you are, too."

Your brow wrinkled together, your voice no more than a whisper as you searched the empty void of his visor. "What happened, Din?"

Din sighed, his armored shoulders falling forward as he did so. "I don't think I've been careful enough."

You blinked at him. "What do you mean?"

Din lifted his helmet from your head and gave it an aimless shake. "In the search for my covert. Doing these jobs and giving them too much insight about what I'm looking for."

He paused. You lifted your hand to his beskar cheek, running your thumb along the curved ridge in the handcrafted metal.

"I just finished a job, and they wanted more from me that we hadn't agreed upon. I was about to leave when they..." Din took another soft breath, "mentioned your name."

Your eyes widened. After a few heartbeats, you recovered enough to speak. "How?"

Din shook his head again. "I don't know. I've never, ever told anyone about you. About us." His visor fell. "Like I said before, I must've slipped up somehow, become too careless in looking for information. But I'll stop." He looked at you again. "Because it's not worth risking you."

You clicked your tongue. "Din..."

He continued before you could finish. "I killed them all, everyone who heard your name." Din's voice wavered. "Hopefully, that means you're safe. But I didn't know for sure until I got here."

"Din." You held his helmet between both your hands, lifting your brow again to convey your severity. After a brief pause, you went on. "You shouldn't stop searching for your people just because of this."

Din shifted his weight between his feet. "But..."

"No." You remained firm. "I knew what I was risking the day we started this." You gestured with your gaze to your blaster, which you had set on a nearby table when you reentered. "And I can protect myself, too. Even if they had shown up, you know I could've put up a fight."

Din exhaled, but he ultimately nodded. "I know."

You smiled. "Good."

You lowered a hand to the lip of his helmet, your fingertips running along the exposed skin and scruff beneath until they caught on the seam of the cowl at his neck.

"Thank you for doing what you did to keep me safe." You tugged the material down enough to set a soft kiss upon the warmth of his skin. Din inhaled, a sweet breath you could hear from within his helmet. "Now, let's get your armor cleaned and get you in bed. We can figure out the rest in the morning."

Din nodded, his hand catching your elbow when you set a hand upon his cuirass.

"And next time?" You chuckled. "Please try to show up without all that blood on you."

Din also chuckled, nodding once again before he escorted you to the safety and security of a bedroom you considered to be just as much his as it was your own.

[wordsinhaled]

some edwardian slang/turns of phrase from this dictionary that i imagine are still in edwin’s vocabulary, or his internal monologue, or private writing (some a bit more late victorian in the sense of years but since there was overlap in the eras in practice, could probably still in use in edwin’s time)

there are lots of other words and turns of phrase listed at the link above, but these are just some i thought were neat for edwin specifically! <3

top-hole - he does use this one on the show! for excellent, the very best (“top-hole job today, niko” <3)

wizard - excellent, as in “a wizard time” - please imagine edwin telling charles he had a wizard time after a date… so cute…

nasty jar - a bit of a sticky situation

grig - grasshopper or cricket. “merry as a grig” - ecstatic or jumping for joy

footle (nonsense) - talk nonsense or waste time

cropper - hard fall, as from a horse. usually used in “come a cropper” as in to come to ruin or fail miserably

balmy on the crumpet - insane

fast for extravagant or wild and flash for showy

poodle-faker - a man who spent too much time in the society of women, engaging in such activates as tea parties, balls, etc. - i imagine it would be the sort of thing edwin would hear said about people or implied about himself…

other words and phrases still being used today - “crack up” - to praise or laud (i assume this would be a “not all it’s cracked up to be” sort of usage); “nightie” for nightgown; “rooky” for a new recruit; “cushy” for easy (1915); and “down” - to be critical - i’m assuming this would be used as in “he was down on himself,” more or less the way it is now but not 100% sure; but to note, to be “screwed” was to be drunk or intoxicated, compared to say, if crystal were to say “we’re screwed!” during a case and mean it as hopeless. also, “feeling punk” was feeling ill (1896)

heart-whole (not in love) and repining for/that (longing/yearning for/thinking regretfully of), e. g. “His tendency… to repine for even the minutiæ of his old life” (1897, but close enough) or “bitterly repining” - these would absolutely show up in edwin’s journal…

see “repining” as “yearning” in this bit of “A Song of Eternity in Time” by Sidney Lanier (written 1867, revised 1879), which gives me such payneland feelings

Once, at night, in the manor wood

My Love and I long silent stood,

Amazed that any heavens could

Decree to part us, bitterly repining.

My Love, in aimless love and grief,

Reached forth and drew aside a leaf

That just above us played the thief

And stole our starlight that for us was shining.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Hii not sure if your requests are open or not- so ignore this if they’re closed! <3

Can I request some Obey Me! Headcanons?

So reader is the 8th sister of the brothers. So she’s the youngest.

Just some general headcanons of her relationships w the brothers

( And some of the side characters if it’s not too much trouble :>)

Thanks <33

I've already done something like that but I love the concept so I'm just going to build that 🖤🖤🖤🖤

Youngest Sibling Reader Headcannons | Yandere Obey Me

Lucifer

Before I said he was the worst one and I mean it

He’s an amalgamation of someone who understands you but undermines you at every moment

Because he understands, he does listen

He just doesn’t hold your opinions on the same level as his own

But worse 

Of course his brother’s constant chatter about aimless things isn’t on his level

But every now and then he’ll enjoy hanging out with them 

But not you

Never you 

“Ah so you do pay attention to the political atmosphere. Good job.”

Or

“I don’t expect you to know but I’ll tell you anyways.”

It’s degrading

It’s disrespectful

And he does not care

You can cry and yell all you like 

it’ll just sound like a tantrum to him 

So he’ll treat like one

“If you can’t behave, I’ll have to send you to the attic.”

Leviathan

As previously stated is apart of the group that just misinterprets everything you say

It’s hard to say if it’s delusion or denial 

Because sometimes he’ll slip up 

You’ll catch him crying or a single mumble in his late night rambles 

“Aw my baby is so grown up…I just can’t believe it anymore.”

If you try to address it he’ll pat your head and ruffle your hair (if you have any)

Before telling you it’s nothing for the baby to worry about anyway

It’s incredibly annoying 

When he writes off your achievements in gaming as button mashing 

Or saying your just a genius so you’d get on his level eventually

Any protests or ‘grown-up’ conversations are often just outright ignore

Now doing things outside of the ‘baby’ image he has of you mostly has him ignoring that too

Unless you come back hurt or specifically crying for his help 

He will actually start flooding places and going into an absolute rampage

He won’t listen to you about calming down

Its going to take all the brothers to de-aggro their brother to save everyone from drowning

“Sorry guys I just want to make sure our baby sib is doing okay!”

Asmodeus

Also a part of that ‘doesn’t listen to you’ crew

Accept while he might actually here you his brain literally just never let’s him hear your real voice

“Can you please stop trying to rearrange my closet?! It’s weird to find you digging through my stuff–”

“Okay okay no need to cry what’s the problem baby sib? C’mon you can use your words! Tell big bro Asmo what’s the matter?”

It’s almost a concern when he does it in front of your other brothers 

Especially the ones you can hold an actual conversation

“Hey (Y/n) can you pass the salt and the salad.”

“Sure, man.”

“Hey Hey! Why are you bothering (Y/n), they’re trying to focus on eating? Not to mention your being such a meanie, trying to make them reach with their tiny arms!”

“(Y/n) is sitting closer to me than you…”

“So? How do you expect them to know good manners if you don’t show them! Here I’ll show you how! Watch me baby (Y/n)!”

He honestly doesn’t compute when you’re getting older

He’ll celebrate birthdays, milestones, awards

But he doesn’t believe you are growing and can’t see it either

Reprimanding you when you went out with your own car

“I’m all for playing with your toys, but you have to have a chaperone. Okay?”

That being said any advances from others are met with extreme animosity

“Not my little (Y/n)! Try that with someone else’s little baby!”

[grugruel]

Bad News 11 |

Parts: 2/2, read part 1 HERE

Pairings: dbf!bucky x f!reader

MDNI/NSFW

Masterlist

Inspired by, Call Me by Your Name

Summary: After giving into your desires, you have a day to spend together with your family. With a guilty contiouns and strong feelings eating away at you, can you ever be with him?

Word count: 5.6k

Warnings: secret-relationship, pinv sex, public sex, thigh riding, choking, creampie, aftercare, petnames (doll, sweet girl), praise, reader being a brat, jealous!bucky, jealous!reader, angst.

AN: Thank you all for the love on part 1, and for participating in my polls! The Bucky fandom is a force to be reckoned with. Hope part 2 is satisfactory, please enjoy! <3

Cold Thoughts

The clouds were in a rush, steadily blowing by my window as I laid sleepless, observing them. Bucky filled my mind, I had to wonder why he hadnt deemed it fit for me to stay with him in his room, I already missed the safety of his embrace. But now I was worried that, perhaps, he had changed his mind.

Sighing, I pulled Buckys blanket tighter around me, nuzzling my face into it. Still smelling him. I considered it for a while, zoning out as I rubbed the fabric between my fingertips.

I was sowing doubts within myself, that combined with my hangover had headache was manifesting. Eliminating any chances I had at sleep.

I wrapped the blanket around my shoulders and left my room, wandering the house in an aimless search for healthier thoughts, but my mind was drifting, always. Secretly hoping that he couldnt sleep either, that his thoughts of me was keeping him up aswell.

I walked outside, into the dim night, hoping that some fresh air would clear my mind of ache and worry. I strolled of the beaten path toward the forest, wandering in the downtrodden trail I had so many times before. The grass was coated with water droplets from yesterdays rain and the scent of it was still in the air, curing my mind and ache. I looked back toward the house, a faint red dot glowed on the upper balcony, igniting a spark of hope inside me, but it faded as quickly as it had appeared, making me think I had imagined it.

I reached the tree line, grazing the treetrunks with my fingertips as I walked past their leaved frontier, the moon shone through the crowns, illuminating the forest floor. I walked silently for a while, contemplating everything as I delved deeper into the forest. But suddenly, I heard the crunching of leaves behind me and the destinct sound of footsteps. I turned around, and there, emerging from the empty fields was Bucky. My heart skipped a beat and we froze as we locked eyes with eachother. A smile crept its way up his lips, mimicking my own. And all my previous worries escaped my mind, he hadnt been able to sleep either and followed me down here. I backed up, and slowly he stalked forward. My heart was beating ferosiously as mischief took the reins, I turned around and ran as quickly as I could manage. I heard his footsteps set of behind me as I was swerving through the trees, blanket flowing behind me, narowly avoiding low hanging branches and bushes ripping my skirt. I squeeled as his footsteps were catching up to me, he was just a few inches behind me.

I ran and ran, figuring that he shouldve caught me by now. I looked back and all of a sudden his hands found my waist, he spun us around and we fell to the forest floor laughing. I landed on top of him, my head coming to rest on his chest as he intentionally took the blow to the ground. Smelling of smoke and cologne, he wrapped one arm around my shoulders and placed the other at the small of my back. Panting, we fought to catch our breaths.

'What are you doing out here doll?' He asked between breaths.

'Couldnt sleep.' I answered and looked up at him, feeling the rise and fall of his chest.

He met my eyes, 'To busy thinking of me?' He teased, stroking strands of hair from my face so he could see me blushing better. I burried my face in his chest, embaressed. He chuckled.

'Whatever.' my voice came muffled through the fabric of his shirt, but the smile that shaped my lips could still be heard in my tone.

'I couldnt stop thinking about you either doll.' He laughed.

I blushed even harder, looking away, smiling so wide it hurt. My feelings for him were getting out of control, 'We've got ourselves in a mess Buck.' I sighed.

'You come down here often?.' He asked, changing the subject and stroked my hair.

'When I need to clear my head.' I told him quietly, playing along.

He quirked an eyebrow and grabbed my chin, moving my face to meet his, 'You needed to clear it tonight? Youre not regretting our time together are you?' He asked, uncertainty in his tone.

I was surprised by his answer, 'No, of course not. Infact, I was afraid you were.' I said, eyebrow furrowing.

He shook his head dissapointedly, 'You have no idea how wrong you are doll.' He told me tilting my chin upward to meet his lips in a soft kiss.

His answer had me smiling for the thousand time, ripping up any doubts I'd previously sown. I lost myself in his kiss, until it made me remember what we needed to discuss. 'Youre distracting me, stop. We have a very real problem Buck.' I told him seriously.

He sighed and sat up, his hand slid from the small of my back to my ass, firmly holding me against him so I wouldnt slide off as placed me neatly in his lap, stradeling him. He planted his hands behind him for support. He leaned in to kiss me again, attempting to get me on other thoughts but I pulled back and looked away nonchalantly. He expression turned displeased, but I payed him no mind. Instead, I focused on rubbing my hands together, trying to warm them as I waited for his answer. He noticed and grabbed my hands, sticking them under his shirt and laying them against his chiseled, warm torso. Hissing from the sudden feeling of my cold hands.

'Our only problem right now is us always finding ourselves in situations where you freeze.' He said, pausing as he grabbed my chin again, tilting it upward so I had to meet his eyes, 'And I always have to warm you up.' He smirked, 'Is that your go-to plan to get me into bed?' He teased again.

'Stop, oh my god.' I shook my head, embaressed again, my face flustered, but smiling increadolously. Until I reminded myself to stay focused, damn. 'You know thats not what I meant though, were always in these situations because we create them.' I told him, my smile fading.

He shook his head, 'I dont want to think about that right now. I have you infront of me, and thats all I ever want think about.' He said and circled his arms around my waist, lifting me so he could reposition himself. Sitting on his knees, then had me stradle him again, hooking my legs around his hips and held my hands at his waist.

He cupped my face and kissed me, 'You've cursed me, you know.' He whispered against my lips, his hands sliding down every curve of my body until they met my hips, grabbing them firmly. His touch putting me in a trance, his already hard to resist charm became even more difficult. I could feel his member hardening through his sweats, automatically pulling myself closer to him and closing the distance between my core and his erection. He hummed in response, 'I dont know what you did to me doll, during that first night we talked this summer.' He said in a strained voice as his hands moved my hips, helping me grind onto his hardness, earning him a whimper from me. 'But youre the only thing I ever think about, the only thing that gets me off.' He grunted, kissing me again, more desperate this time.

Hearing him confirm his feelings for me, struck up a sudden boldness in me and since he did not want to talk about our situation, the least I could do was enjoy myself at his expensd. I hummed, 'And what about the women you visit at night, huh? Whenever you head into town, always clmkng back smelling of womens perfume? You sure im the only thing that gets you off?' I breathed, smirking, as he met my eyes with annoyance.

He grabbed my face with one hand, squishing my cheeks together as his grip on my hip tightened, forcing me to grind down even harder on him. 'That, we dont talk about.' He grunted, kissing me in an attempt to quiet me, feeling finished with the subject. But I was not.

I tore free from his lips, leaning my head into the crook of his neck, kissing that sweet spot and whispering against his skin 'Do you think about me when you fuck them? Couldnt get with your friends daughter so you had to seek out other women, and pretend they were me?' I chuckled, surprised by my own audacity.

He removed the blanket frlm my shoulder, and splayed it out on the ground behind me, then grabbed my throat. He pushed me backward, one hand still supporting my back as he laid me on the ground and leaned over me, 'Does it make you jealous?' He asked and spead my legs, placing himself inbetween them, 'That I sleep with other women, then come home and smell of them?' My smile faded and I rolled my eyes, looking away, refusing to admit that he was right, 'Do you not wish it was you I smelled of instead?' He whispered against my ear and sat back. He flipped my skirt over my hips, making us both gasp. I had not put on any new underwear since he initially ripped them off, which I had completley forgotten about, this was news to the both of us. 'Tsk tsk tsk' he shook his head, pulling his pants down and his erection out. He lined himself up with my entrance and grabbed my hips.

'Doll.' He called, grabbing my attention and I reluctantly met his eyes, prepared for another snarky, probably true comment. But he only looked into my eyes, wordlessly asking for my consent, I nodded in response. My hand left his back, and caressed his cheek instead, loving that he still paid my wants mind although were in the middle of jealous fight sex.

He slid inside me gently, his breathing hitched and I moaned, a smile tugging at his lips from my reaction. Immedietly setting a rough pace, the noise of slapping skin filled the forest as the moon shone upon us. We didnt need to worry about people hearing us out here, 'Let me hear you doll.' He ordered, kissing my neck and sucking at my sweet spot. I moaned loudly, following his request, my hands roaming over his chest and back underneath his shirt. Nuzzling my face into his hair, 'Harder, faster. Please buck.' I whispered. He hummed, kissing his way down my torso and stumache, then sitting up. His hands moved back to my hips to get better leverage, and began thrusting ferociously, helping my hips meet his thrusts with his hands. 'Holy f-' I began, but my words died in my throat as a string of moans took their place.

'C'mon girl.' He urged, moving one hand to my clit, circling it with his thumb. Closing in on my orgasm.

'Yes, yes.' I hissed, the pressure building in me. His breathy moans in sync with his thrusts were pushing me over the edge, I came hard and fast, moaning loudly. Bucky continued, chasing his own high. He was not far behind me as he came himself, pulling out just in time for his seed to spurt onto my stumache. I laid splayed out on the forest floor while Bucky tucked himself away, he slid his thumb through the fluid on my stumache and held it out for me to taste. And I did,, enthusiastically I licked and sucking his thumb clean, 'Good girl.' He said proudly and pulled back, grabbing my chin and kissing me, still tasting a bit of himself.

He knelt beside me and scooped me up in his arms, 'We need to get you cleaned up before anyone wakes, sweet girl.' He said and stood up, kissing me on the forehead. He carried me back to house, half asleep in his arms. He quietly carried me upstairs, set me in the bath, filled it, cleaned me and gave me one of his shirts and shorts, then laid me back into my bed. He took the blanket, but I protested. 'I need to clean it for you.' He said.

I shook my head, 'No, please. It smells of you. Of us.'I whispered and pulled on it.

'Its dirty. . .' He insisted, but I stared him down, my grip on it proved unrelenting. He sighed, 'Fine, just let go for a sec.' He asked, and I did. He threw the bottom half through the window and shook it off, then covered me with it. The cool fabric kissed my skin, prickling it with goosebumps.

'Thank you.' I smiled.

'Try to get some proper sleep.' He whispered.

'I wont be able to if you leave.' I told him quietly, and he tilted his head to the side, looking at me with sympathetic eyes. He hesitated for a second, but laid down beside me, letting me curl up to him as he laid an arm around me. And we stayed just like that, frozen in time until I had fallen asleep and he moved back into his own room.

When I eventually woke up again, I stayed in bed for a while, wallowing, tracing the empty dent beside me, feeling its cool. I mustve slept alone for a few hours at least. The morning sun was colouring my room in soft shades of gold, warming my back as I laid faced away from the window. Giving me enough strength to start my day.

I wandered into the garden and watched the sunrays find their way through the swaying leaves of the willow tree as I laid down in the grass underneath, cherishing the sunlight as it speckled my skin with warmth, varying with the cool of the shade. The house had yet to wake up, and I suspected my family of being dangerously hungover. Sighing, I closed my eyes and my mind drifted back to bucky. His touch still fresh on my skin as I imagined the warmth from the sun as his hands, caressing my body. His soft words whispered in my ear as a love song from the 80s started playing in the kitchen, my mother was awake. My thoughts switched, the cool of the shade began reminding me of his abscene, of our strange situation and the sweetness of reminiscence quickly soured into guilt. My mothers prescence was reminding me of our betrayal, it gnawed at every positive thought I had. The guilt of our actions, the feeling that we'd made a mistake by betraying my parents trust in this way. Surely we couldnt go on, it would be immoral for either of us to do so. Yet, my biggest concern was Bucky reciprocating those feelings.

'Good morning honey.' My mother greeted me as she entered the garden and I opened my eyes.

Dazed I responded, 'Morning mom.' And stood up to help her set down plates of food for breakfast, 'Wheres the rest of the house?' I asked, following her back inte the kitchen.

'On their way, dads just brushing his teeth and your brothers somewhere around here' Sha said, handing me watermelon slices and the radio. I hummed, avoiding the abvious question. As we set down the last of the food, we took our places at the table. My father and brother joining us a few moments later, looking rather rough and we dug in.

'So, everyone ready for a day at the beach?' My father asked with a bright, sarcastic smile as the bags under his eyes gave him away. My brother and I wooped ironically, making my mother laugh. Everyone was still reeling from the aftermath of the alcohol. 'How about we continue drinking instead?' He asked again, and my mother eyed him unapreciatively. But this time we wooped enthusiastically. 'I thought we could spend the day in town, get dinner, then move to a bar.' He suggested, which actually sounded appealing.

'Sounds like a plan.' Came a voice from the doorway, Bucky. 'Good morning, party people.' He said cheapishly and we responded with tired chuckles, greeting him. He sat down at the table, doing his and my brothers silly handshake, as their bromance comamanded them to.

Conversations were stuck up, my parents were deep in discussion about buying new clothes for my father, and they roped me in for my opinions on the matter. My brother and Bucky were talking about something else, 'Sleep well?' He asked Bucky, suddenly grabbing my attention. I looked at him and our eyes met, exchaning glances and knowing smiles.

'Never slept better.' He asnwered, facing away, grinning into his food and I chuckled silently.

'Yeah, whats so funny?' My brother asked, glancing between the two of us.

'Nothing, just. . . A joke I remembered.' Bucky managed, smiling, I continued with my own conversation as my sweet, oblivious brother wanted to hear the joke aswell and Bucky had to bullshit answers.

When breakfast was done, we got ready to head into town, then gathering outside by the front of the house. 'Car or bikes?' Asked my father, 'Someones gonna have to abstain from drinking if we take the car.' He said apologeticly.

'How about-' I began.

'Well-' my brother also cut in, about to suggest something, but dad interuppted the both of us.

'Oor, how about this?' he said, raising a finger in the air, 'We take the car into town, and walk home.' He clapped his hands together, as if it was the most genuis thing, 'Fantastic idea guys.' He said, laying an arm around each of us, smiling proudly.

I met ny brithers eyes and shook my head, we laughed, 'Sure, sounds great dad.' I answered to appease him.

'Theres only 4 seats in the car.' Bucky pointed out, making dads smile fall and let go of us.

He put a finger to his mouth, deep in thought and spoke 'Someones gonna have to share, your mother and I are upfront. We'll leave this to the three of you.' He said, laying an arm around my mothers shoulder as she put her hand on his chest, nodding approvingly.

Raising my brows, I looked at the other two. They were as surprised as me, but we huddled together, discussing our plans. 'Whats up with dad?' I asked and my brother cut in.

'This much drinking and breaking safety rules?' He pointed out, sounding stunned.

'He gets like this sometimes, hes excited. Leave him be.' Bucky defended him, my brother raised his hands, backing off from the subject. The three of us exchanged glances, I already knew who I wanted to share with, but I couldnt just say it. Buckys gaze lingered on mine, he was thinking the same thing.

'Well?' I looked at them expectantly, 'Im sorry to say but, the idea of sitting in your lap, brother.' I said, overly pronouncating the last word, 'Isnt very appealing.'

'Yeah? Im not thrilled about the prospect of either of you, sister or mr muscle man over here. You must weigh a ton dude.' He gestured towards Bucky, who rolled his eyes.

'Why dont you sit in Bucks lap then?' I teased, to which Bucky huffed.

My brother mimicked my expression and mocked my words, 'Why dont you sit- bla bla bla, you sit in his lap then.' He said annoyed, my stumache tickled, the butterflies were waking up.

'I- whatever, im tired of this.' I told him, feigning irritation because the decision was taking to long.

Bucky clapped his hands together, 'Its decided, youre sitting with me doll, I dont see another outcome.' He said, sounding impatient but acting nonchalant.

'Sure. Its all the same to me.' I said, boredom lining my voice and shrugged, all the while the butterflies in my stumache were waltzing.

We degrouped and rejoined my parents, 'Im sitting with Buck.' I declared.

'Fantastic! He'd act as the strongest belt anyway, keep her safe.' My father said, elbowing Bucky in the side, to which he nodded. A pang of guilt hit me, dad has so much trust in Bucky. I met his eyes, my eyebrows furrowing. He tilted his head, sharing my feelings. I had to look away.

'Really, C'mon, dad.' My brother raised his hands in the air, attacked from nowhere.

'Sorry son, youre not, not strong.' Dad said, as it was any better and opened the car door for mom, then took his place by the stearing wheel. My brother sighed, defeated and took his own seat. Bucky opened the door, sat down and patted his thigh, nodding his head for me to sit. I inhaled a shaky breath and sat in his lap, he snaked his arms around my waist and held me tightly in place.

The car ride wasnt to long, and it was relatively uneventful. We were talking about nothing special, when Bucky, from nowhere grabbed my thigh. He unhooked the arm closest to the door from my waisr and laid his hand on the outside of my thigh, as invisible as it could come. He slid it up toward the hem of my skirt and massaged circles with his thumb. He grabbed the hem, snaking his fingers under it, grabbing the fabric and pulling upward to reveal more skin. I clutched his wrist in warning, and he pecked my shoulder in apology. I looked around the car, making sure everyone was minding their own business. They were talking, and we were answering questions and asking them in return, all the while bucky was stroking my thigh, a strange feeling. Unexpectedly, there was a bump in the road, I wouldve gone airborn if Bucky hadnt pulled me tighter against him. But in the same motion, I accidentaly grinded against his lap. And he grunted at the feeling, playing it off as a cough. 'Everything alright back there?' Mom asked.

Dad hissed, 'Sorry you guys, didnt see that bump!' Dad apologised.

'We're-' I began, feeling Bucky getting hard beneath me, 'Im- im fine, it wasnt to bad!' I assured him. I was getting flashbacks to the forest, Bucky hard beneath me, grinding against erection. Us kissing, him touching my body. I grabbed his wrist harder from the memories, clearing my throat. Bucky squeezed my thigh, then moved his hand to my waist, hooking his finger through a belt loop on my skirt and left it there for what remained of the ride. By the time we arrived, Buckys hard on had disappeared.

We were crusing the streets, checking out interesting shops and getting clothes for dad. Passing time and enjoying eachothers company. We got dinner and sat outside as we cought the last rays of the efternoon sun, laughing and chatting, sipping more wine. It made me think of the time before Bucky and I had anything to hide, when there were no overhanging secrecy to our dynamic. When we could talk and hang out with no hidden meaning behind our words or glances. When we didnt have to second guess my familys knowledge of our actions. It brought me into a somber mood, and Bucky being unwilling to discuss us was not helping. I wish I could push the guilt aside like he seems to, and just enjoy the happy parts of our conjoining instead. But at the end of the day, their my family. Their expectations were not weighing him down the same way they did me. My fathers voice brought me out of my thoughts, or rather the subject of his words did.

'You gonna have any women meet us at the bar Buck?' He asked him, it was a serious question but he laughed as he asked it. Knowing it was something Bucky rather kept to himself.

Buck chuckled in annoyance, 'Always as funny.' A strained smile forming on his lips. This, I was not in the mood for. I took my wine glass, hastily drinking it.

'Whats your plan, have anyone you wanna settle down with?' My mother asked him innocently, obviously unaware of my feelings regarding the matter. Bucky glanced around nervously, clearly embaressed by the grilling. His eyes met mine for a second, looking apologetic. Which only annoyed me more, I poured myself another glass of wine and finished it within minutes. My drinking was alarming him as he shut the questions down with a bunch of, 'Im not sure.' And 'We'll see.' Trying to be kind although it was bothering him.

'Lay off him.' My brother spoke, 'Youre like hawks, damn.' And Bucky gave him a grateful nod in return.

I pinched the bridge of my nose, pushing a smile 'Should we get going?' I asked, eager to leave their conversation behind me.

My father immedietly waved a waiter down, 'Great idea!' The waiter was a cute guy around my age, and with my annoyance at Bucky, concerning us, concerning his women, it resparked the jelousy in my already bad mood. So I flirted with the guy, and gave him my number as he left.

My mother had been eyeing him aswell, 'He was cute.' She whispered to me.

'Right?' I nodded, smiling.

'Im sitting right here.' Dad objected, crossing his arms and pouting. Mom stroked his shoulder apologeticly.

'Yeah, so cute.' My brother cut in sarcastically, and I slapped him playfully on the arm, rolling my eyes.

Bucky sat in silence, pinning me with his gaze and trying his very best to hide the irritation that was bubblig up inside him. Which only made me smile brighter, I had found a way to lighten my mood, and simultaneously found my entertainment for the night. It wasnt really his fault, I shouldnt be taking my frustration out on him. But I was in a devilish mood.

As we found our way to the bar, my brother and dad took the lead in drinking, I was hanging back a little bit. The mjsic was blaring through the speakers, 'Seen anyone of interest?' Dad half-shouted at Bucky.

He looked at me and smirked, 'As a matter of fact I have.' Bucky said and stood up from the bar, walking toward me. My eyes widened, I was horrified. He wasnt gonna expose us, was he? But turns out, I was worried for naught. Because he walked right past me to the woman sitting behind me, and immedietly began flirting with her. I had to clench my jaw to stop it from falling to the floor, anger sizzled inside me as I looked at them. I met his eyes for a second and he winked at me, oh game on.

I stomped onto the dance floor, found the first good looking guy I saw and laid my arms around his neck. 'Well hello cutie.' He shouted over the music.

'Hey there stranger, wanna dance?' I asked loudly, and he nodded enthusiastically. We locked hands as we danced together, he twirled me in circles, stopped me, put his hands on my waist and pulled me close to him, my back against his chest as I swayed my hips to the music and he followed my movements. His hands were sliding up my thighs as I threw a glance Buckys way, who was staring at me, I could see him clenching his fist from here. He turned back to the woman, his furious expression melting into charm as he stroked a strand of hair behind her ear, she laid a hand on his knee in return. I cursed him silently, I had to one up him. 'Twirl me.' I told the guy and he did, then pullled me close again, hands found their way back to my waist, but we were chest to chest this time. I traced a finger along his jaw as we danced, I leaned closer to his ear and asked 'Kiss me?' and he obliged, not even taking a second to think about it, his lips met mine. When I looked back to where Bucky was sitting, he quickly averted his gaze from mine. Said something to the woman, to which she grabbed his hand and led him toward the exit. I began panicking, surely he wouldnt sleep with her? 'Could you excuse me for a second, I'll be right back.' I said in a hurried tone and made my way to the exit. I passed my family, who were caught up in a lively discussion, with several empty shotglasses infront of them. They wouldnt notice that I was missing for a while. I opened the door and stepped outside, he stood leaned against the railing enclosing the outdoor seating are, watching me as I approached him. The sound of the music druzzled iut into the air as the door shut behind me, only the thumping could be heard through the exterior. He was smoking, and the woman was nowhere to be seen. I breathed out a sigh of relief as a weight dissapeared from my heart. 'I thought you went home with her.' I said and leaned against the railing next to him, holding onto it.

He chuckled in disbelief, shaking his head 'Would that have been taking it to far?' He asked and took a drag of his cigarette.

I looked at him with furrowed brows and wet eyes, tears welling in them. 'What are we doing Buck?' I asked sniffing, 'To ourselves, to eachother, to my family.'

He looked at me, anger melting away from him as he saw my face, 'I care about you, and you care about me. Why should anything else matter?' He asked, sighing.

'Because, you do not care for me the way youre expected to, or I you. My feelings for you pass far beyond what they should be for the best friend of my dad.' I whispered, he took another drag and laid his hand on top of mine, stroking circles with his thumb. I looked down at our hands, noting the difference in size and age, 'I just- I wish you could hold me right now, but its not possible. We will never be able to have a normal relationship.' I said, my voice breaking as tears start falling down my cheeks.

'Doll, please.' He began with sadness in his tone. But I couldnt take it any longer, I pulled my hand away and ran, ran down the street, ran until the music had completley faded. My blood rushed through my ears, I could hear nothing but my own heartbeat. And for the second time today, he caught me. He circled his arms around me and pulled me into the nearest empty alleyway. 'You need to stop running from me, doll.' He panted against my ear, backing me up against a cold stone wall. 'Listen to me, please.' He grabbed my face, turning me to look at him but I closed my eyes and shook my head, I just couldnt deal with it right now, with him. 'Please, please. . . Doll.' He whispered in desperation, something in his voice compelled me, reluctantly, I opened my eyes. 'Youre everything to me, we'll get through this. I dont know when and I dont know how, but we will.' He said and cupped my face, stroking tears from my cheeks. I wanted to belive him so desperately, I leaned my head against the wall, looking up at the light from a streetlamp. 'I promise.' He whispered and kissed my collarbone, kissing his way up my neck and along my jaw. I tilted my head down to face him, hovering my lips over his, 'I promise.' He repeated, his breath humid on my lips and I met them in a feverish kiss. I would have him anyway I could.

'Your mine, Buck. Im yours, take me.' I breathed between kisses, he slid his hands down my body, down my thighs and under my skirt, finding purchase under my ass and in one smooth motion raised me into his arms. I circled my legs around his hips as he leaned me against the wall, his hands free to unbuckle his belt. I kissed him wildly, desperately, I just needed him. As his belt was unbuckled his hands returned to my waist and the small of my back, I put my hands down his pants and stroked him, earning myself a grunt from him. I pulled him out, pulled my panties to the side and lined him up with my entrance, impatient for the feeling of him filling me up. 'Please Bucky, just yours.' I whispered, and he didnt hesitate, lowering me onto his length as he slid inside. Setting a hard pace as he helped my hips rut against his every thrust. I snaked my arms around his shoulders, holding onto his neck and hair for support as a scream almost slipped out of me, but I let my head fall against his shoulder and bit down in his flesh, skin and fabric muffling my scream. He hissed at the sensation, but didnt mind all that much. The sound of rough slapping echoed through the alley, making me realise how dangerous this was. Someone could walk by any moment, 'Faster Buck.' I ordered and his pace hastened. Pressure was building inside me, I was close to coming. Buckys relentless thrusting was pushing me over the edge, quickly I came in a blind, white hot surge of pleasure. Moaning against his skin as he kissed my neck, his pace becoming irregular and came himself shortly after me.

All of a sudden I heard footsteps passing by the alley, Bucky and I froze as we simultaneously looked the other way, hiding our faces. There was a whispered 'Holy shit.' And laughing from the street as they ran away. We sighed in relief and he set me down on shaky legs, he tucked himself away and simultaneously we began laughing. Uncontrollaby, the strangeness of this whole situation had us giggling like school girls, all the while I could feel him dripping out of me.

As we caught our breath, he hugged me 'We need to be more careful doll.'

I leaned back and side-eyed him, 'You dont say?'

He grabbed my chin and kissed me 'Dont give me attitude right now.' He whispered against my lips and circled an arm around my waist for support. Silently and slowly we made our way back to the bar, ready to end the night.

When we arrived, my family was emerging from the bar and waved when they saw us. 'I was wondering where you'd gone off to!' Dad exclaimed.

'Someone wanted to go for a walk' Bucky said, nodding to me, 'And seeing as she couldn't walk straight I figured it'd be best if I accompanied her.' He chuckled.

'What a gentleman, looking after our girl.' Mom said, adoration in her gaze as she looked at Bucky. I chuckled, straining to repress a second outburst of laughter and Bucky poked me in the ribs in silent warning.

'Good man!' Dad said and punched Bucky playfully on the shoulder, 'But we should really get going if we want to arrive home before the sun comes up.'

'And whos fault is that?' I asked, daring fate.

Dad quirked an eyebrow at my remark and ruffled my hair. 'Lets go kiddo.' He laid an arm around me, taking Buckys place and we were homebound.

I threw a glance his way as Bucky fell into pace next to my brother, who was chatting naerrily with him. Bucky nodded, mouthing 'Its okay doll.'

Accepting that this was our reality.

Tags: @larajadeschmidt13 @cjand10

[deathblacksmoke]

Folio thing to cure my writer's block, anyone?

@sitkowski requested "Just one kiss, that's all I'm asking for." with our dearest Foli. here you go, sweet friend <3

cw: mentions of alcohol consumption & marijuana use, sweet obnoxious intoxicated boyfriend, the world's fluffiest thing maybe

It’s always a toss up, never quite knowing what you’ll get when Nick comes home from a guys’ night.

Sometimes it’s early in the small hours of the morning and he’s a little tipsy, tip-toeing into the bedroom to crawl into bed, press himself against your back, and pass out quickly. Other times it’s long after you’ve gone to sleep, having assumed he was staying the night at someone’s place for the night, when he’s crashing through the door, stumbling around and looking for something.

Tonight, you’re graced with the appearance of the latter.

You’re startled awake by the sound of the door slamming open and your gaze shifts to the clock on the bedside. 3:38 am. You hear the door close softly, the squeaking of his sneakers on the hardwood, and a loud thud, followed by his characteristic cackling laughter.

As is always the case with Nick, the annoyance seeps out of your bones the moment it presents itself. You’re happy he’s home and he’s safe, regardless of the lack of consideration his intoxicated state has afforded you both. You climb out of bed and pad down the stairs to greet him.

You find him in the kitchen, rummaging loudly and seemingly aimless through the fridge, just the same as always. He perks up when he hears you enter the room, greeting you with his big, pretty smile. As if he just had a moment to think about the time, his expression falls sweetly.

“I woke you, ‘m sorry,” he mumbles, his words garbled as he ducks back into the fridge. You sidle up behind him, wrapping an arm around his middle as you pull him back and close the refrigerator door.

“It’s okay, Nicky,” you assure him, pressing a kiss to the back of his shoulder. “How drunk are you?”

“I only had two beers,” he’s quick to respond, an answer you don’t quite believe, judging by the state he’s currently in. “Nick brought edibles.”

That explains that.

"Let's get you into bed, honey," you offer, already leading him out of the kitchen and towards the stairs. You hear him huff, feel his deep breath beneath your palms, but he lets himself be steered.

He's docile as you sit him on the edge of the bed and pull his shirt over his head, undress him down to his boxers and lie him down. He's already starting to doze, his eyelids heavy and fluttering.

He whines softly about being hungry, but you remind yourself of the last time you let him have a late night snack when he was this high and out of it — a vision of him in the recovery position on the bathroom floor.

"We can get a big breakfast in the morning," you offer him instead, and the smile that plasters itself across his face as his eyes begin to close heats your cheeks. "I'll go grab you a glass of water, my love."

He reaches out for you pitifully as you get up, even as he's nearly falling asleep. "You haven't given me a kiss yet."

You laugh softly as you detach yourself from him, gazing fondly down at him.

"Just one kiss, that's all I'm asking for," he whines.

Still never one to deny him, you lean down to place a gentle kiss on his lips before padding out of the room.

By the time you return with Advil and a glass of water for him, he's already asleep and snoring softly. You crawl in happily behind him, pulling him close to your chest, hoping he's in the mood to sleep in after disturbing your sleep.

You're sure he'll be up in a few hours, whining and begging to take you for breakfast. You'll do it without much of a complaint, as always.

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 83 (Heather Loses Her Cool at the Courthouse)

Over a year after his arrest, John Brindleton's bench trial had finally arrived. After squatting in the Brindleton Light, confessing attempts to destroy the lighthouse and with it the local fishing industry, he faced charges of vagrancy, damage to heritage property, and conspiracy.

He risked several years in prison on the latter charges. The off-duty officer who made the arrest was the star witness for the prosecution, and Heather had come to Brindleton County Courthouse to support him.

"All rise for Judge Morrison."

The buzz inside the courtroom dwindled to silence as Judge Morrison entered the room. He did his usual preamble and urged the defendant to stand. "Mr. Brindleton, you understand these are very serious charges against you, sir."

The defendant nodded. "Yes, your honour."

"How do you plead?"

"Not guilty."

Once the trial was underway, the prosecution called Sargent Conrad Gordon to the stand.

(I almost put him in a suit, but he looks real good in his detective uniform and I overuse this look without shame!)

"Sargent, on the night in question, you were still a senior detective with Brindleton PD."

"That's correct, but I was off duty that night."

"What were you doing on Deadgrass Isle?"

"I was with my fiancee and our pets. We all enjoy the sea breezes out there. The station's gotten reports about strange things happening at the lighthouse for years - weird sounds, lights going on and off - and we walked up to the point. I'm naturally curious, but I wasn't really looking for anything."

No one needed to know he'd been chasing ghosts at the lighthouse that night. He wasn't the man on trial here.

"Then what happened, sargent?"

"Our dog's a trained K-9 and we saw Mr. Brindleton jump out a window in the gatehouse. Gord took off after him and he hesitated just long enough for me to catch up. I reached for my badge and he attacked me. When I subdued him, I started to get his story."

"When did he confess to wanting to destroy the lighthouse?"

"After he admitted he'd been living in the lighthouse once he was kicked out by his parents. He wanted to destroy the fishing industry so he'd never have to work it, and also get revenge on the competitors who put his father's fleet out of business."

"And you had already placed him under arrest, so he knew anything he said could be used against him."

"Yes. My fiancee saw the whole thing and gave her statement. It's in the exhibits."

"And what was the state of the gatehouse when your detachment entered the premises that evening?"

"Squalor. There's no working plumbing in the lighthouse but Mr. Brindleton said he was afraid of strays dogs and wouldn't go outside. He said at home, someone cleaned up after him, and he was still getting used to doing it himself."

"No further questions, your honour."

On cross-examination, John Brindleton's lawyer leaned against the desk. "Just one question. Showing your badge before an arrest makes the action legal. And yet your whole department followed your lead without so much as a thought to your breach in duty?"

From her seat in the back of the courtroom, Heather glared at the defense attorney.

"I brought it out after he attacked me and I'd subdued him. It's in the exhibits."

"Your Honour, this trial is a sham!" A grey-haired man in the front row, behind John, shouted at the judge and a murmur started.

"Order! Order in my court!" Judge Morrison bellowed. "Mr. Brindleton, silence your gallery! Your family name got you far in this town, but I still find you here before me like any common defendant. You will not turn my courtroom into a circus."

Once Conrad stepped down from the stand, each side paraded a few more witnesses before the judge left to deliberate. Character witnesses described the defendant as an aimless man from a crooked family. In less than an hour, Judge Morrison found John Brindleton guilty.

His sentence was five years plus time served, and the spoiled legacy heir faced the prospect of prison with fear in his eyes. It had all gone wrong for him; his lack of ambition and zest for revenge both cautionary tales. He hugged the grey-haired couple who'd roused the courtroom earlier - his parents, George and June Brindleton, whose only child was headed to prison.

Heather and Conrad put on their coats and stepped outside. On her way down the courthouse stairs, Heather accidentally ran into Mrs. Brindleton. "I'm so sorry," she said apologetically. June looked at her with sad eyes and Heather wasn't sure what else to say.

"You!" George Brindleton whipped around when he heard Heather's voice and zeroed in on Conrad. "You destroyed our family!"

"Sir, I was just doing my job," he insisted. The grey-haired man marched up to him angrily.

"The Brindletons built this place!" shouted George. "That statue right there? That's my great-great-great-great-great-grandfather Silas Brindleton! And you, a scummy little cop! You made this town he built a home, only to destroy his entire legacy?"

"I'm sorry you feel that way, sir. But we brought you in for questioning and you were evasive with everything you were asked. Beyond that, I can't talk to you about your son's case."

"Conrad, what's going on?"

"Heather, it's fine. Why don't you go start the car so we can pick up the kids?"

"Is this your fiancee? Wouldn't it be terrible if someone destroyed your legacy in return for you ending mine?"

"Mr. Brindleton, if you're threatening me, we could always open a new investigation into the financial activities that really put Brindleton & Sons Fishery out of business."

"I didn't threaten you at all."

"What the hell are you saying?" Heather approached them, wild-eyed. "You want to come after me and our kids? I'm right here! Why don't you try me?"

"Heather..."

"No, I'm sorry, but if he wants to threaten the kids he better believe I'll be in the way!" She turned back to grey-haired George with a growl, as his grief-stricken wife joined their circle outside the courthouse. "You think Conrad destroyed your family's legacy by doing his job? What about you? Your son had nowhere to go when you kicked him out. The last thing he wanted was to carry on your family name and your crooked business. You could never hope to measure up to Conrad if you tried."

"Heather, it's alright."

"The only person responsible for tearing apart your family name is you, Mr. Brindleton."

"Watch yourself, girlie. You don't want to open a can of worms. Fish love worms."

Conrad's blood boiled. Some days, he wished he wasn't an officer of the law. Anyone else could have punched George square in the face, and he certainly deserved it - even before he threatened to turn his fiancee into fish food.

"Are you done yet, George? Every single one of our family's problems can be traced back to you and your gambling." June grasped her temples in frustration. "I'll be in the car, and I don't want to talk to you for the rest of the week. I mean it."

"Heather, let's go."

George Brindleton followed his wife several paces behind, walking slow to have the last word with Heather and Conrad. "You think you know so much about how I lost my business? Wait until you find out exactly what the Brindletons can get away with in this town. Consider it one last gasp before our name fills nothing but gravestones in the cemetery."

Conrad wrapped his arms around Heather and urged her not to respond. Fighting a desire to claw the man's eyes out, she let herself relax in his arms until George was gone. Slowly, her hands stopped shaking. "Is he really going to come after the kids?"

"He's just upset. He won't touch them, I swear to the Watcher."

Heather took a deep breath. "I thought you were paranoid when you got those security cameras. Brindleton Bay's too safe, I thought. But after meeting that man, I'm glad you thought to install them."

"Let's just go get the kids from Mrs. Goth's before they accidentally meet the Grim Reaper."

"Maybe they're safer with Grim right now."

Conrad ran his hand through her hair, forcing a smile as guilt tore a hole in his stomach. Immediately after being threatened by a sorry old man wasn't the time to admit the cameras were meant to address an entirely different problem.

"I'll always protect you, just as much as we'd both protect the kids. I love you so much."

Heather sought comfort with a gentle kiss before they headed for the car, and Conrad smiled for her.

He was already stressed with work and hiding the search for Rafa Bonilla, and now he was forced to consider just how dangerous George Brindleton might be. ->

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NOTE: I need some more deco sims, clearly. I thought I downloaded three different sets of sitting decos, but only ended up finding one set in build/buy. I gather this is how I learn I need to avoid high poly decos? That's the only thing I can think of as to why they're not there!

NOTE 2: My courtroom scenes are nothing compared to @matchalovertrait's amazing courtroom series with Dulcetonio/Dulcetone! Totally inspired by your storytelling all the time, but I didn't have enough sitting decos for a jury so thank you for your talk about bench trials 😂 Saved me this week!

WCIF Brindleton County Courthouse? Thank you to @oimygiblets who found this build in the Sims 4 Gallery and also saved me this week! Newcrest Civic Building by SimJim24. It's not exactly the style of the town hall in Brindleton, but it has a tower and the same brick vibe. Suits the town. I added a founder statue in the front and some deco sims to the courtroom (all from @someone-elsa's Sitting Decos except for the lawyer at the podium which is actually a medieval deco sim by @nataliaauditore-blog) but otherwise left this lot untouched. I'm not sure how often we'll need to go to court, but I like having it for second saves!