#rip Jim's head

[arttsuka]

I had a second one and I accidentally ate it 😭

[makabrefantasies]

Jim found a new room decoration :)

[forfuckssakejim]

i just wanna be fun and leave dumb easter eggs for my new poetry collection im droping. is that okay lol

[headdaze]

sometimes I just gotta remind myself that when someone doesn't like what I like, it's not a personal attack against myself. if someone doesn't like a speech I just gave even though I thought it was great, the content maybe just wasn't good, it's not because they have some personal vendetta against me, because there's really no reason. if someone doesn't like the same music I like, that doesn't mean they hate the people behind it and I need to stop listening immediately. if someone doesn't like the same books, that doesn't mean they think my taste is bad, we could just have different tastes. if someone doesn't like the same show I do, that doesn't mean I need to stop watching it immediately because continuing to watch it would mean I'm a bad person. sometimes the worst that I assume really is the truth, but there's nothing I can do about that.

just need to remind myself it's OK to just like things. and that not everyone is going to love what I love and that's OK, it's just life.

[ichthustent]

i think josh accidentally gorilla glued his beanie to his head and any theory of his hair being red is just his scalp being irritated from the glue and itch of the material of the beanie it’s just never coming off we’re never seeing his beautiful curls ever again

[mirbisduschoen]

I know I'm late to the party, but RE: Village AU where

instead of Lord Donna of House Beneviento being the Lord with lots of experience in making children's puppets, it's Lord James of House Henson.

Yes, I do mean THAT Jim Henson.

Lord Henson's heart is in the right place, cadou be damned, and he's even got a hidden cave full of village children he saved from his new "siblings" and "mother", who he refers to as his "audience". Even when he's got an eldritch mushroom hivemind whispering things in his brain, he can't help but be at least a little wholesome.

Some of the things happening in that section of the game are the same, except for the fact that the newly Cadou-infected Lord Henson is somewhat less successful at being creepy than his canon counterpart. The elevator lights flicker creepily and come back on to reveal...Beaker with a marker halfway through writing "Welcome, Ethan". He turns around to see Ethan staring and "MEEP"s loudly before scampering off through a hidden door in the elevator.

On the other hand, entering the creepy area with the fog, trees, and hanging puppets made the the jumpscare by the Fire Gang from "Labyrinth" leaping out from among the trees way scarier than it should have been, but the menace had mostly gone when the hanging puppets started singing the chorus. (The Wild Gang did try to remove his limbs though, like in the movie, and Ethan was very surprised to find his head can come off without killing him, which led him to believe Mia wasn't telling the whole truth to him.)

Instead of Angie being the psycho doll, it's the (somewhat dilapidated) original Skeksi puppets from "The Dark Crystal". All ten of them, acting like children. (They are technically cousins to the Dimetrescu girls.)

Unlike canon, this section of the game DID have a deathtrap, but the deathtrap was Kermit doing his "Mystery Box" game with the caveat that failure to correctly guess the object would lead to a trapdoor in the floor opening onto...a dunk tank. Ethan stressed himself out about the game, thinking he'd die if he got it wrong, fucked up, and was very confused to be left soaking wet but completely OK.

Edit: The Skeksis aren't the ones you need to worry about. If you ever visit Lord Henson, Wilkins will offer you some godawful instant coffee while insisting it's the greatest thing on Earth. DO NOT show any signs of displeasure at being served instant bean water that's been sitting around collecting mildew and mold since the 50s.

[gloomwitchwrites]

You introduce your husband as your "boyfriend" to annoy them.

Anon! This prompt has me screaming! I really enjoyed writing for this one because it's such a fun idea. Sure, our 141 boys might be a little mad that they aren't being called by their proper title, but you know they'll just love punishing you for it.

I went a little different with this one. Instead of introductions, I made it so that reader is constantly referring to them as "boyfriend" in public settings. Depending on the situation, introductions wouldn't make sense if it was with friends, family, or coworkers because they would likely already know that they're "husband" and not "boyfriend." So i changed it up a bit in that way!

Some of these fall into spicy territory without being descriptive.

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): canon-typical swearing, suggestive themes, non-descriptive mentions of sex, fade to black, brief dirty talk

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if series masterlist

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Simon shakes his head and you roll your eyes.

“We can ask someone for help,” you suggest, scanning the massive wall of televisions.

Simon grunts and crosses his arms. “No.”

Sometimes Simon’s stubbornness is cute—even sexy—but right now you’re just annoyed with him. It makes you want to stir up trouble, to cause a little chaos just for the fun of it. Pouting, you turn, eyes narrowing to find an associate of the electronics store. When you spot one near the HDMI cables, you take off, not caring if Simon follows.

“Excuse me.”

The man’s head perks up. “How can I help you?”

You gesture behind you, your hand smacking into Simon’s chest. “My boyfriend—”

“Boyfriend?” growls Simon, but you ignore him.

“—can’t decide on a television.”

Simon is not your boyfriend. He’s your husband. But he’s being stubborn, not making a decision, and you want out of this store.

Shifting, you place one hand on Simon’s large bicep, grinning like you haven’t done anything at all. Simon’s hand immediately grabs your ass, squeezing hard. A warning. One that you ignore.

“I can help with that,” replies the associate. You glance at the man’s nametag. Jim.

“Thank you so much, Jim.” You lean against Simon, giving Jim your best smile. “Getting this guy to commit to anything is so hard sometimes, ya know?”

Jim makes a noncommittal noise as he walks toward the wall of televisions. You start to follow but Simon’s hold on your ass tightens, keeping you pressed against him. Simon leans down, his lips brushing against your ear.

“What are you doing?” he whispers.

You elbow Simon in the side but it’s not hard. He lets go, keeping close to you as the two of you follow Jim over to the televisions. Standing back, you watch with glee as Simon is forced to talk to Jim. You stay out of it, but notice Simon’s gaze switching to you every so often.

You already know what he’s thinking. He’ll likely want to punish you, and sometimes those punishments are so sweet.

Once Simon selects something and the two of you are at the car, there is no safety net. Simon shuts the trunk and then you’re pressed against the car, your body trapped between it and Simon’s massive form.

“Boyfriend?” he accuses.

You shrug. “What do you mean?”

The growl in Simon’s throat comes out a groan. “Get in the car.” He lightly slaps your ass as you open the passenger door.

As you start to slide in, Simon’s hand returns, this time slipping under your skirt to find your thin, lace underwear. He tugs sharply, ripping the fabric.

“Simon!”

He stuffs the underwear into his pocket. “You don’t need these.” You feel your face growing hot.

Simon shuts your car door and walks around the driver’s side, hopping in. He reaches out, placing one large hand on your bare thigh. It roams upward, squeezing, sending a shiver of lust up your body to make your head spin. “When we get home, I’m fucking that boyfriend nonsense right out of you.”

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

“I’m so sorry, but this isn’t what my boyfriend ordered.”

Kyle frowns and glances up from his phone’s screen. That’s your voice he hears, but the term of address isn’t right.

Boyfriend. Not husband, as it fucking should be.

Kyle glances in your direction but you’re not looking at him. You’re smiling sweetly at the barista behind the counter.

“It should be hot. Not iced. I might have messed up. I’m so sorry. I can pay for another.” You raise your hands in a placating gesture but the barista doesn’t appear fazed at all.

“No biggie. Keep that one. Won’t take me more than a minute or two.”

“Thank you so much.” You glance at Kyle, and your smirk tells him all he needs to know.

You’re being a tease. You’re doing this on purpose. The drink order is wrong, and you’re using this as an excuse to poke at him.

Kyle locks his phone and casually slides it into his pocket. Do you think you’re going to annoy him by doing this? Maybe. The little smirk on your face tells him that’s entirely what you have in mind.

But the joke is on you. Doesn’t matter if you refer to him as “boyfriend,” because all it’ll earn you is a punishment.

As the barista slides the new drink across the counter to you, you thank them profusely. “Thank you so much. My boyfriend will really appreciate it.”

The barista only nods and turns back to the espresso machine.

As you approach with the coffee, Kyle gentle removes the drink from your grasp.

“Boyfriend?” he asks, amused.

You shake your head like you have no idea what he’s on about. “What?”

Kyle laughs and snags the other drink from your hand. With shock on your face, he strides up to the counter. “Can you set these aside for us? Be right back.”

They only nod and continue working. Kyle snags your wrist and drags you to the little hallway that curves out around. There are a few private corners in there, and the hallway itself opens up into the nearby bookstore.

Kyle checks the handle on the unisex bathroom. Finding it unlocked, he draws you inside.

“Kyle,” you hiss, but he’s not having any of it.

Kyle engages the lock and presses you up against the door.

“You owe me an apology,” he says.

“For what?” Kyle tuts, his hand sliding to the back of your neck. “Get on your knees,” he murmurs, undoing his belt buckle with the other hand. “Apologize with that gorgeous mouth of yours.”

John Price

John leans back in his chair, agitation irritating his spine.

House hunting isn’t something he’s particularly excited about. He is happy that it’s with you, his wife, but the tediousness of it all is exhausting to him. John would rather have you select a few places to tour and then be done with it all. Money isn’t the issue. He just wants you to find a place you like and the two of you can go from there.

He’d live in a tent if that’s what you want.

“My boyfriend isn’t all that picky.”

Boyfriend? John is tugged from his inner musings by your voice and that term of address. Boyfriend. Why the fuck would you call him that? John isn’t your boyfriend. He’s your goddamn husband.

You reach out, planting a hand on his thigh. You squeeze softly as you always do when you’re trying to reassure him, but John frowns down at it, and then looks up at you. You’re not looking at him. You’re staring at the realtor, completely ignoring him.

John licks his lips, considering whether to correct you or not, or leaving it up to a simple mistake, but you do it again.

This time, John didn’t mishear you.

Your hand squeezes his thigh again and Price rests his hand over yours. His fingers enclose your palm and he holds firm. You glance at him and John shoots you his best warning look. You don’t even react. Don’t event blink.

No. He’s going to correct you. He is absolutely fucking correcting you.

The realtor pivots the computer monitor. “I think any boyfriend would agree that these are excellent selections.”

That’s fucking it.

Price shoots up from his seat, keeping a tight grip on your hand. “I need to speak with my—” John pauses, swallowing down his annoyance. “Girlfriend. Privately.”

The realtor shrugs, smiling, but John is already turning around, dragging you out the door. Outside, the stuffy, summer air does nothing to soothe his annoyance.

“Boyfriend? Fucking boyfriend?” John crosses his arms over his chest, looming over you.

You shrug. “What’s the problem?”

“Behave yourself,” he says, lowering his voice.

“Or what?” you ask in mock innocence.

So, this is what you want. John understands the moment the words leave your mouth. You’re fucking teasing him. Fine. He’ll make you learn.

“We are gonna go back in, thank the kind woman for her time, and then we’re leaving.”

“No. I want to stay.”

John leans in but he notices the way you glance away from him and back, clearly flustered. “Good girls don’t play games.”

“Funny,” you reply, head tilting slightly. “That as my boyfriend you have any authority over me.”

John pivots, blocking the view of the front door from you. “I will bend you over that bench so fast, wife.”

“You won’t,” you stammer.

John arches an eyebrow and you visibly swallow. “Want to test me?”

You pout, and then playfully shove him in the chest. “You’re terrible.”

As you turn for the door, John grabs your waist pulling you close. “You started it.”

John "Soap" MacTavish

“My boyfriend and I are redesigning our bathroom.”

Johnny’s attention splits. The associate showing him floor tiles is a distant thing. He might be talking about the newest ones on the market, but Johnny is no longer interested.

Did he just hear you right? Did you just call him boyfriend?

“That’s wonderful,” comes a reply, and Johnny notes an older woman talking to you near the laminate flooring that mimics wood. “Where is he?”

“Over there,” you wave at him, a smug smile on your face.

Boyfriend? Johnny is your fucking husband.

“Sir?” prompts the hardware store associate. “What do you think of these?”

Johnny grunts. “Fine. We’ll come back.” He waves the man off and starts for you even as you continuously refer to him as your boyfriend.

You’re doing it on purpose. You’re doing it to annoy him.

And it’s fucking working.

Johnny saddles up beside you, snaking his arm around your waist, pulling you taut against him.

“This is the boyfriend,” you begin, smiling.

“Husband,” corrects Johnny, flashing the same devious grin. He holds up his left hand, showing off the simple gold band. “Happily married to this one.”

The older woman’s eyes round.

“She likes to joke,” continues Johnny. “Come on, love. Better get home.”

Johnny easily guides you away. He leans down, whispering. “You little terror.”

“Bite me,” you reply.

“Oh. I will. Everywhere. When we get home.”

taglist:

@km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @spicyspicyliving @miaraei

@coffeecaketornado @aykxz98 @kayden666 @unhinged-reader-36 @enarien

@miss-mistinguett @keiva1000 @cherryofdeath @sapphichotmess @enfppuff

@berarenado @saoirse06 @haven-1307 @ninman82 @no-oneelsebutnsu

@thewulf @lxblm @ferns-fics @ooldcardigan @beebeechaos

@sw33tsnow @kessi-21 @makayla-666 @lifes-project @burn1ngw00d

@heeheehoohoohahahihi @lulurubberduckie @ravenpoe67 @contractedcriteria @lovely-ateez

@gingergirl06 @kidd3ath @leed-bbg @blackhawkfanatic @suhmie

@tulipsun-flower @ghosts-hoe @jaggersinclair @nomercyforthewarrior @dakotakazansky

@talooolaaloolla @hantheconqueror @littlemisscriesherselftosleep @umno-yeah

[creativewritersposts]

delirious state - Luke Hughes

summary; Luke Hughes x reader

Luke gets injured and the painkillers kick him into a delirious state, which is quite funny.

warning(s); mention of injury, it's more fluff and funny, real head injuries are no fun! , maybe grammar errors

author's note; old but good! 4/4 fics done! Good night everyone ✨

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

"Luke Hughes left the game and is on the way to get medical help".

This is how the disaster began. You stand in the emergency department waiting for Luke, completely worried and walking circles. "Mrs. Hughes? Mr. Hughes asked for you", an older nurse speaks with papers under her arm. You didnt know you're his wife but you're completely fine with that. Together with his nurse you arrive on a station where you can smell the typical disinfection scent.

"I'll leave you alone with your husband. Our doctor had to sew a wound on his head, two broken rips and a swollen nose. Because of the medical drugs and painkillers he can speak confused. He needs to rest. Are there any questions?", the nurse looks up from her pinning map with all informations, you don't care right now. You want to know if he's okay. "No i just want to see my husband, thank you". The nurse nods and walks back where they came from.

Quietly you open the door, afraid to wake Luke. Your poor Lukey. But damn you're wrong. Your poor Lukey smiles high and looks at you absolutely awake. He has a black eye, a neck support and plaster on his head where the doctors had to shave his head. He looks not good, hockey is a dangerous sport.

"Hey babbbyyy! Nice to see you", he waves with his hand and his voice sounds higher than usual.

"Hey, are you okay? My poor Lukey. Your family will be here in one hour. Traffic", you pet his curly hair and sit on his bed. "Oh yeah. Do you want to go to the cinema with me?", Luke smiles again not knowing what he tells. "You're not in the condition so I don't think", you giggle. It feels like you talk to a child. "You are soooo pretty", Luke does a gesture to show how much and curls your hair with his finger.

"You are pretty, too. Even with your destroyed face", you smirk. Luke is never that cheesy but as long he won't get angry you tolerate it.

"I really wanna have sex with you", he says without warning. It's atypical for him, he's very shy.

"Baby I dont think that works out right now",

"but whyyy?", Luke gets tearful.

"You have an head injury!".

"You think I'm a sucker in bed!", he replies in a stubborn tone.

"No don't get me wrong!", you never imagined you both have this conversation in the hospital one day.

"Yes you do. I'm lucky I married you before you could leave me because of that", his monitor signals louder because his heartbeat gets faster.

"You really need to rest and chill baby", you hope the topic is closed now.

"Just if you tell me you want to have Sex with me too!", you roll your eyes. "I won't say this!", you place your hands on your hip. A nurse comes in and controls his vital values until he speaks out, "Marriage is hard", he huffs. The nurse laughs off.

"We're not married. Before we reach this step you have to ask me!", your poor nerves. Honestly you need a drink to get through this. And chocolate cake.

Luke wants to stand up out of his bed, "babyyy lets go! I'm ready to get some actionnn with youu", he tipsy says. Luke's cheeks are rosy and and he looks like he gets fever. You lovely push him back to bed. "Lukey I love having sex with you but god damn lay down or I'll cain you on this bed!".

"Uhh I love when you take control", he smirks.

"Man you knocked out on ice and all you can think is about this?! and y'all say I'm the cheeky one!", you turn around behind you, hearing a familiar voice. It was his older brother.

Ellen, Jim and Jack watched this amused scenario. "Mooom", Luke groans. Ellen goes straight to his bed, hugs him and strokes his curly hair. "Can I help you with something? It looked really bad!", his mother says. "Why have you to interrupt me and my wife? Its getting hot in there", Luke is outraged.

"Lukey its fever and no sexual attraction, I'm sorry guys, he's dazed from the drugs", you try the best to get out of his embarrassing moment. "Mooom?", he calls her name again in a wailing way. "Yes?", she holds his other hand and focused. "Can I borrow your ring? I need to do a proposal". Ellen don't know what to say. Jim stays quite in the cornor as opposed to Jack. He grins the whole time and records some videos. "I have to send this to Quinn! Made my day!".

"Don't be so mean", Jim replies. "Daaaadddd?", comes from the big boy in bed. Jim steps next to Ellen, looking down to his son. "Why I'm the third one and not the first child? Didn't you make any effort to get me?", he whines. "Can't believe my smartest son asks such a stupid question", Jim shakes his head and hugs Luke, too. They don't care about this delirious state, the ony thing that matters is, he's okay. (Of course Jack will show their whole family these videos later).

[uluvjay]

Santa red-J. Hughes

Jack Hughes x fem! Reader

Jack gifts you an early Christmas gift and asks you to model it for him

Warnings?; SMUT, p in v, unprotected sex(a no no), teasing, pet names, dirty talk, grinding, cursing, kissing, porn with a small plot, this was supposed to be out before Christmas so I apologize😭, sorry for any errors!

Day 10 of my ficmas celebration!

The ride home from the prudential center was quiet, not a word spoken even as Jack pulled into his parking spot and exited the car.

You could see he was still tense from the game, you could hear Lindy screaming at them from the hallway where you and Jim waited for the boys to come out.

The tips of his ears were still red with anger, and you knew him well enough to know he was still pissed about being sent to the box and the added loss had fueled his anger further.

Once you entered the shared apartment he took off towards your bedroom while you went into the kitchen, You were taking a drink of water when you heard his stiff voice call out for you.

“Everything okay?” You questioned as you appeared in the doorway of the bedroom.

Jack was sitting on the bed, shoes and coat off but his game day suit still hugged his body deliciously. Beside him was a Christmas bag, tissue paper coming from the top.

“Can you put this on?” He asked, extending the bag out towards you.

“What is it?” You questioned, taking the bag from his outstretched hand.

“Was supposed to be a Christmas gift, but I can’t wait any longer.” His voice was low, not longer only filled with anger and embarrassment but something more.

“Okay.” You shrugged, setting it down on the dresser beside you as you went to strip off your devils crewneck, however a large hand on your arm stopped you.

“C-can you put it on in the bathroom? Wanna watch you walk out in it.” He blushed.

“Of course.” You smiled, picking the bag back up you made your way into the large bathroom connected to your bedroom.

Opening the bag you found a box, one that belonged to Jacks favorite lingerie store. You had bought a set for his birthday one year and since then he had been in love with the place.

Opening the box you were met with a deep red set, a tad bit darker than traditional Christmas red. Running a finger over the lace you took in how delicate it was.

You would never understand why he spent so much money on sets just for him to always end up ripping some part of it during the night.

Stripping off your clothes you slid the set onto your body, admiring yourself in mirror. Your eyes caught how well the color complimented your skin tone and the way the cups of the bra pushed your boobs up perfectly.

“Once again, you have magnificent taste.” You laughed as you stepped out of the bathroom.

Jacks head whipped in your direction as he heard your voice, a breath getting caught in his throat as his eyes locked on your body.

The set was perfect, the panties making your legs looks even more delicious, and your breasts-god your breasts, Jack wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to control himself.

“Oh fuck me.” He mumbled, running his hands over his face.

“I mean if you want me to.” You teased the man, making your way over to stand between his legs.

“You look breathtaking.” He spoke lowly, eyes taking in your body at a closer angle.

“Thank you.” You smiled, leaning down to give him a soft peck.

The boy whined as you tried to pull away, his large hands wrapping around your bare waist to keep you trapped between his spread legs.

“Give me a real kiss.” He whispered, lips just inches from yours.

“That was a real kiss” you giggled, but Jack didn’t find any amusement in your words and he quickly showed you that by tangling one of his hands in your hair and pulling your lips to his.

It was hot and breathtaking as his tongue traced against yours before it quickly won dominance, your lips moved feverishly in sync earning him a low moan from your throat.

His hand that still rested on your waist slipped down to the back of your thigh, lifting it lightly he signaled that he wanted you to sit on his lap.

You pulled your lips away from his to take your position overtop of him but the make out hastily resumed as you pulled the beanie off his head and tangled your fingers in his damp hair.

The dark locks were still damp from his post game shower but that didn’t stop you from tugging and pulling on the locks just the way he liked.

A smirk overtook your face at the hoarse cry that broke from his throat when you grounded your core over the tent in his pants.

“Baby.” He groaned, hands coming to still your moving hips.

“What do you need Jacky?.” You teased, lips trailing all around his throat.

“You. Need to fuck you.” He groaned, head tipping back instinctively allowing you more skin to roam.

He shivered as you smirked against his skin, heat growing in his stomach as you pulled away and looked down at him.

His eyes followed you as you moved yourself off of his lap and moved your hands up to undo the buttons on his dress shirt, however Jack was a bit to impatient and moved your hands to rip it open instead.

You giggled before trailing your hands down his toned abdomen to his belt, hands working quickly to undo the buckle and pull his pants and boxers down.

And while Jack expected you to climb back on his lap he was filled with confusion as you stepped back and moved to sit against the head board.

“You said you wanted to fuck me, so fuck me.” You smirked down at him with eyes full of lust.

Jack could feel the heat spread from his lower stomach up to his spine as you trailed a hand down to slowly rub over your clit through your lacy panties.

Shaking out of his haze jack shot up and removed his remaining clothing before his body was hovering over yours.

His large hand wrapped around yours and moved it to the side with a soft ‘tsk’ as his own hand came to push the lace to the side.

A groan left his mouth at the sight of how wet you were for him, your cunt glistening in the low light of the bedroom.

A deep cry came from you as he ran his cock through your folds, his head pushing into your entrance with ease.

His hips thrusted forward as a fast pace, the anger that had once been building up in his body now being filtered into his thrusts.

“Jack!” You cried as he shifted one of your legs over his shoulders, his length now hitting the spongy spot deep inside you.

“So good for me baby, feel so fucking good.” He groaned hoarsely.

One of his hands came down to pull the cups of your bra down, hands coming down to palm your breasts, His thumbs tweaked and pulled at your nipples earning sweet cries of pleasure from you.

“Shi-Jacky, you’re so deep.” You whimpered as you felt his tip once again nudging that spot deep within you.

Jack admired the way your body reacted to his menstruations, how your hands clenched the sheets beside you and how your head was thrown back in nothing but pure pleasure.

He could feel you clenching him tightly, and by the way your moans had subsided to drawn out whimpers and mumbles he knew you were getting close.

“Gonna come for me baby?” He questioned as one of his hands came down to rub cricles over your clit.

“Mhm” you moaned with a drunken nod.

Jack smirked at the state of you, he loved nothing more than watching you completely fucked out for him.

“Come on baby, give it to me.” He encouraged, thumb moving at the same pace as his snapping hips as he chased a high of his own.

A loud cry broke through the room as your climax overtook you, the leg that was hooked over jacks shoulder shaking while your back arched and eyes clenched shut.

“So beautiful.” He praised as he placed light kisses to your lips, swallowing your whimpers of overstimulation.

“I know baby, I know. I’m almost there.” He groaned, forehead resting against yours as his thrusts began to get sloppy and deeper.

With a few more deep thrusts the air was filled with a deep groan as Jack came deep inside you, painting your warm walls white with his release.

His large body collapsed on top of yours as his head snuggled into your neck, lips leaving small kisses on the skin.

“Feel better?” You spoke quietly bringing a hand to run through his damp hair.

“Much. Thank you baby.” He smiled giving you a proper kiss before he slid out of you and went to grab a towel to clean you up.

A few minutes later you were both snuggled on the couch, the soft light of the Christmas tree filling the living room while you two let out soft giggles while watching elf.

-

[lanabuckybarnes]

Might have re-watched Captain America: Winter Soldier again 🫣....and it's just something about the way he says "You're my misson." All I know is this gives off HUGE smutty vibes. I love your written so I just knew I had to ask you!

Ohh nonnie the way he growls it as well (panties soaked)

18+ MINORS DNI, DUB/NON CON THEMES AHEAD

His metal hand pressed against your throat, you should’ve passed out ages ago but he wasn’t squeezing enough to hurt. He was keeping you in place.

You don’t know how you ended up on Hydra’s watchlist. You were a regular person, a security expert who woke up at 6am every morning, showered and got ready for the long hours at the office.

Your boss had some new clientele. They were in the market for top-notch security and they’d chosen the company you worked for, and your boss had chosen you to be part of the team. You learned quickly that they were a very secretive group, you only ever met the messengers and even then they blanked every other word you spoke besides a polite hello.

It was one boring day, completely uneventful, the usual in your office. You were working on the can’t security side of the project when your screen went black, then a logo appeared—an octopus? Weird.

“Hey Jim come look at this” you notified your cubicle neighbour who peaked over the barrier. Just as he did mountains of files filtered onto your screen, many of them in Russian it looked like but one thing was for certain. You definitely shouldn’t have seen it.

That night after packing up and heading downstairs you noticed Jim still at the revolving doors.

“Hey, you alright?” You asked, he looked pale, if you were in an old house you were sure you would’ve mistook him for a ghost.

“T-the—“ he cleared his throat before his brown eyes bore into yours. They looked dead, it shook you to your core. “The logo, on your computer…I searched it up and…”

Your jaw dropped to the floor when you digested the content on his phone. Hydra. Your new clients were Hydra and you’d accidentally seen all their files.

—

You jumped from your dreamless sleep at the sound of your landline. Checking your clock lets you know it was well past midnight, who on earth would be calling at this time?

“H-hello?” You rasped, eyes shutting by the second.

The frantic voice spoke your name. It was Jim and by his tone, he was panicking.

“Jim? Jim, are you alright?” You pressed, holding the phone closer to your ear.

“T-they’re here, listen to me whatever you do, do not open your door. Find a weapon and hide…oh god…Do not op—“ BANG!!

You let out a shriek at the sound, Jim’s side turning eerily quiet. Then your door knocked.

Once.

Twice.

Your door was gone before it could be knocked for a third time. Kicked so hard it hit the opposite wall, you screamed, dropping the phone from your ear and falling to the ground like you were made of jelly.

Tears flowed freely down your face as the huge body stalked forth, his arm glistening under the dim light you kept on at all times. A mask sat upon his face obscuring his emotions from you but you were certain he was enjoying the torture he was putting you through.

His heavy boots stopped just in front of your knees, his metal hand grasped at your throat squeezing until your vision spotted, until you garbled pleas up at him. Only then did he pull you up, your toes pointing to reach the floor, you were trying desperately to relieve some of the pressure around your throat.

You should’ve died a long time ago, his brain screamed at him to fulfil his mission, put a bullet in your skull and be done. But the more he looked at you the more he wanted.

The spaghetti straps of your nightgown had slipped down off your shoulders, catching in the crooks of your elbows but not before giving him a delicious tease of your bust.

He wanted more.

He raised his flesh hand, hooking a long thick index finger into the material before ripping it from your body in one fell swoop. You yelled and struggled against his grasp but a harsh squeeze of your trachea had any fight dying quickly.

He let his knuckles trace the swell of your tits, pinching a nipple in between his fingers, smirking darkly under the mask as you squirmed.

You look cute all scared of him; wide-eyed and chest heaving, your tummy sucking in to get away from his hand as it trailed down to your cotton panties.

A dark chuckle escaped him as he felt along your gusset.

“You’re wet”

You shook your head, eyes darting anywhere but him, your thighs squeezing his hand and keeping it pressed firmly against your mound.

He ripped the panties from your body as well, running two fingers through your folds and bringing them up to your face. Absolutely soaked.

“Wet” he spoke matter-of-factly before pushing his hand back down there; fingers plucking your hard little clit effortlessly until you were crying out.

“W-why are you doing this” you moaned, head hitting off the wall with a bang as you sucked in air greedily.

“You’re my mission” he growled back, fingers stretching you out until your brain turned to mush.

He coaxed four orgasms out of you that night. His mask, thrown to the floor so he could kiss you sloppily before leaving.

He returned night after night, Hydra sending him to complete his task but he’d do the same again, play with you, eat you out until you were a writhing mess—all dumb and thinking of nothing but him.

You were his mission. For days, months, years. You were his.

—

I pulled this outta my ass but I hope it was up to your standard nonnie 🤭🤭

Also thank you so much, it’s nice to know some people enjoy reading the poo I write.

Likes, Reblogs and Asks are always appreciated ❤️❤️

[dccomicsimagines]

Shattered - Batfamily Imagine

Warning - Abuse, Abusive Behavior

Requested by Anon -  Can I request a batfamily x reader where reader is very quiet and one day Bruce pushes too hard and reader runs away. Then reader is missing for weeks and they find her badly injured and Bruce is feeling bad

Author’s Note - This took me forever to finish. Also it spiraled into it’s own thing, but hope you enjoy it!

***

You felt your father watch you from across the cave. The punching bag swung back to you. Your fists cracked against the bag, echoing in the silence of the cave. The bats screeched in the distance. 

Out of the corner of your eye, Bruce moved toward you. The tension in his shoulders, firmness of his jaw, you knew he was in a bad mood. You sensed it was caused by Damian. Damian and your father hadn’t gotten along well ever since Bane took over the city and Alfred died. Then again, Bruce hadn’t gotten along well with anyone since Alfred died. You swallowed back a lump in your throat. It hurt that you had to force yourself not to tense up when he reached you.

“Too practiced.” Bruce crossed his arms. His cowl was off. You caught the bag when it swung back to you, peeking at him shyly. “A live target won’t wait for you to punch them.” His eyes were ice cold steel. You wondered if your eyes were like that. Dick claimed you had Bruce’s eyes, but you never believed him. 

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. Bruce’s lips formed a hard line. “Sorry,” you whispered finally. Your hand trembled slightly. You shouldn’t be nervous. He won’t hurt you.

“Sorry won’t save your life. Sorry will get you killed.” He turned and walked off to the sparring mat. Your eyes widened, blood draining out of your face. His hand gestured for you to follow. 

Your feet moved without you realizing. Suddenly, you were on the mat and facing your father. He took off his cape and tossed it to the sidelines. “Attack,” he ordered. You blinked before running straight toward Bruce. 

It occurred to you to surprise him as you flipped forward and sprang up to aim a kick to his jaw. He blocked it, pushing you away. You rolled with the push and landing safely on your feet. 

“Predictable.” Bruce threw a punch your way. You barely dodged it. He was so fast. “You need to be unpredictable.” 

The sparring session lasted a full hour. You had been thrown to the ground too many times to count. Your body ached, knowing you’ll have bruises the next morning. 

Bruce offered his hand. You took it and stood up. “You’ll need more training if you’re going into the field alone.” He glanced at the batcomputer when it beeped with a message. “Shower and get to bed. You have school tomorrow.” 

“Yes Dad.” You mumbled, holding his hand a moment longer. He allowed it and you felt comforted by it. You couldn’t remember the last time he hugged you. 

Bruce pulled away too quickly for your liking, heading to the batcomputer. He joined a call with Jim Gordon. They were discussing the murder from the night before. Bruce believed it was a serial killer, thus why you weren’t allowed to patrol with him until the killer was off the streets. 

You limped toward the showers. Your eyes burned with tears, your heart aching so bad you thought it was ripped from your chest. It confused you. 

After your shower, you slowly walked up the stairs. Bruce was still at the batcomputer. You knew better than to bother him. 

***

The next night, you sat by the batcomputer and organized files. You were still banned from patrol. The serial killer still on the loose. Your father was getting more and more unbearable. Biting your lip, you wished Alfred was here. He’d know how to get your father to stop and take a rest, but Alfred died a year ago. 

A little bit of anger sparked in your heart. Why were you left to deal with your father alone? Why could all the others run off? You cursed your age, wishing you were eighteen or at least well trained enough to join the Teen Titans or something. 

However, you took a deep breath, letting the anger go. You learned a long time ago that being angry with your father didn’t do any good. It was almost like he wanted your anger, so you didn’t give it to him. 

The file organization was mind numbing. You peeked at your father’s tracker to see him at GCPD. He was probably talking to Commissioner Gordon about the serial killer. You wished you were with him. 

Suddenly, the computer beeped that the batcave allowed access to someone. You opened the cameras to see a motorcycle flying down the tunnels. Excited, you got your feet to greet the motorcycle. As it came closer, you recognized the dark blue paint. 

“Hey,” Dick greeted, parking his bike a few feet from you. “How you doing, kiddo?” 

“I’m okay.” You crossed your arms tightly across your chest. “What are you doing here?”

Dick climbed off his bike. “Just visiting. Is Bruce here?” He came over to you, ruffling your hair.

“No, he’s out.” You bit your lip when he frowned slightly. Dick hummed, resting a hand on your chin to inspect the bruise on your cheekbone. You had washed off the makeup you used to hide it at school. “I’m fine.”

“You sure?” Dick pulled away. He took off his mask, looking you directly with those clear blue eyes. You avoided eye contact. 

You didn’t answer, simply turning to point at the tracker on the screen. Dick went over to look. You sighed in slight relief. 

“So a serial killer is on the loose huh? I saw it on the news, decided I should stop by,” Dick said, studying the screen to see all the files you were organizing. 

You swallowed hard and took your seat back by the computer to continue your work. Dick watched you for a bit. “I don’t know when he’ll come home. You should probably go meet him,” you said after you heard Dick sigh.

Dick leaned against your chair, resting his arm on the headrest. “I was going to borrow some surveillance equipment. I want to stake out a few of Blockbuster’s operations.” Dick smirked when you looked up at him. “Wanna tag along?”

Your heart skipped a beat in excitement. It wasn’t until now that you realized how much you missed going out. Two weeks of only the cave and school was restricting. “Dad wouldn’t like it,” you said, biting your lip as you glanced at Batman’s tracker on the computer. He was driving through the city now. You assumed he was going to check out the next crime scene.

Dick followed your gaze to the screen before looking back at you. “Kiddo, we can leave him a note. He won’t be upset if we’re in Bludhaven.” He ruffled your hair. Your lips pulled into a smile.

“Are you sure?” You jumped to your feet. 

“I’m sure. Go get your suit on.” Dick tapped your nose, grinning. “Heck, even pack an overnight bag. You can just stay over at my place.” You turned and ran off to gather your stuff. 

***

Dick frowned as he watched you hurry away. You were limping. If you had been in the cave for two weeks, where would you have gotten hurt? The limp could have been a sprain, but the bruise on your cheek? Dick shook his head, swallowing hard. “Bruce, what are you doing?” he mumbled, eyeing the tracker. 

Dick glanced over his shoulder to make sure you were out of earshot before tapping the comm button. “(Y/N), I don’t have time. If you’re done with the files, go to bed,” Bruce said harshly. 

“It’s me, Bruce.” Dick pursed his lips, holding back a scoff. “Is that how you talk to her?” 

“I’m in the middle of an investigation. (Y/N) knows not to bother me.” Dick shook his head. “Why are you there?”

“I stopped to borrow a few things and to check in on you and (Y/N).” Dick ran a hand through his hair. “Bruce, I’m taking (Y/N) with me for a few days. This isn’t good.”

Bruce didn’t respond. Dick knew what that silence meant. “Keep her safe,” he finally said softly. A moment of vulnerability.

“Always.” Dick held back the words he wanted to say. “I’ll talk to you in a few days.”

Bruce grunted and shut off the comm. Dick sighed. He would need to talk to the others about this. Dick felt responsible. He should have checked in on you more. He should have taken you with him once he first suspected. Dick swallowed hard as he heard you come up behind him. Forcing a smile on his face, he turned to you.

***

The weekend with Dick was a lot of fun, but you weren’t an idiot and Dick wasn’t that subtle. You knew Dick was concerned about your welfare. He had several calls during the weekend, calls you overheard when he thought you were asleep. 

It was a relief to be home. Bruce seemed happy to have you back. Well, as happy as he could get nowadays, which wasn’t much. However, you did receive a shoulder pat before he sent you off to train. You practically melted at the touch. 

You were on the balance beam, training in the balanced combat that Dick showed you. Bruce was at the computer, still going over evidence for the serial killer. He still hadn’t caught him. You were greatly concerned by the fact, but stayed quiet. 

“I don’t have the time for this,” Bruce said suddenly. You glanced over at him as you practiced landing a kick without losing your balance. Bruce got to his feet. “(Y/N), come here.” You blinked before hopping off the beam and running over. He gestured for you to go to the changing room. You frowned, confused. Bruce growled. “Get ready for patrol,” he said sharply.

“Really?” you asked, voice barely a whisper. He narrowed his eyes at you. “Yes sir.” You swallowed hard and ran to get changed. Bruce was already in his batsuit. 

You ran back out a minute later, strapping on your cape. Bruce marched to the batmobile at the sight of you. You jogged behind him. “I need you to stake out the other location.” Bruce hopped into the driver’s side. You got in beside him, holding back a smile at finally being in the batmobile with Bruce again. He drove off at full speed toward Gotham. “I have determined that the killer will strike in one of two locations. He leaves clues, a Riddler copycat.” He glanced at you. The hint of approval appeared in his eyes when he saw you were listening attentively. “He will strike tonight, so I don’t have the time to narrow it down.” 

“Yes sir.” You bit your lip to hide a smile. He was treating you like he did Dick or Tim or Damian. An equal. You couldn’t believe it. 

“I don’t want you to engage. If you see him, call me and stay in the shadows.” He suddenly stopped the batmobile by an old apartment building deep in the city. “Tracy Apartments. Watch for a man in a blue coat.” The hood opened and you hopped out. “Do not engage.” Bruce narrowed his eyes at you.

“Yes sir.” You nodded before grabbing your grapple gun and flying up to the rooftop. The roar of the batmobile sounded behind you almost like it was lifting you up and away. Landing on the roof safely, you sat on the edge of the roof, determined to do your very best.

***

Nothing happened except a few random people walking home from the bar on the corner. A homeless person entered an alley. You sighed, resting your elbow on your knee and your chin in your hand. Your father hadn’t messaged except to say he arrived at the other location. 

The clock tower, only two blocks away, struck two. Your eyes grew heavy. Slowly, you drifted off only to be jerked awake when your elbow relaxed causing your head to fall. Panic filled you as you checked the apartment building. Nothing change. You relaxed, heart pounding away. 

Another half an hour passed with you pinching your arm to stay awake. Just when you were about to fall asleep again, the man with the blue coat appeared. You tapped your comm. “Batman, the man is here. He is entering the apartment building.”

“Good. Don’t move until I arrive. ETA five minutes.” Batman’s comm clicked off. You got to your feet, staying in a crouch as the man entered the building. Tapping the side of your mask, you turned on your thermal camera to watch him move through the lobby. Strangely, the man took the stairs.

You traced him through the building, grateful for the building’s thin walls and the man’s gait. He stopped at an apartment on the far end of the third floor. You moved to the other end of the roof to peek in the window. There was two women inside watching TV. Two glasses of wine and bowls of what looked like ice cream sat on the table in front of them. 

One of the women stood up and went to the door. A scream came from inside. The other woman on the couch stood up, grabbing the lamp next to her and throwing it at the attacker. You hesitated a moment. Bruce would be very angry. No more patrols for a long time. However, when both women disappeared out of your view, you pushed that out of your mind.

Leaping into the air, you used your grapple gun to accelerate toward their window. Using your feet, you broke through the window, somersaulting into a kick to the man’s face once you were able to pinpoint where he was. The two women cowered in the corner. 

The man fell back against the door with a shout. “Stupid kid!” He struggled to his feet. You wondered if that’s why he attacked women. A inferiority complex with a dash of psychopathy. He held a knife up. You smirked at the knife, shaking your head. He came at you, but you dodged it easier and disarmed him. The man screamed as you put him into a hold and knocked him to the floor. 

Curses sputtered out of his mouth as you quickly handcuffed his wrists and feet. “Robin.” You looked up in surprise to see Batman at the window. His jaw was a mask of pure fury. You swallowed hard and quickly got to your feet. “Go wait in the car.” He moved toward the man. You hurried to the window. The two women thanked you as you grappled down to the waiting batmobile. 

It slid open as you approached and you hopped inside. Snuggling into your seat, you felt sick to your stomach. You knew that look your father gave you. A shiver ran down your spine. It was a look only Damian and Jason got when they disobeyed him. 

***

“Disobeying direct orders!” Bruce grabbed one of his spare gloves and threw it across the cave. You flinched at the movement, putting your hands behind your back so he couldn’t see them shake. After changing out of your suit, you were told to stand in the middle of the changing room as your father let loose. “I expected more from you, (Y/N)!”

You opened your mouth, but a glare from him had you closing it again. The cave was colder than normal. You wondered if it was really colder or if it was just you. “I’m sorry, but I needed to step in,” you whispered, unable to speak louder. “He would have killed them.”

Bruce spun to you so fast that you flinched. “He could have killed you!” You looked into Bruce’s eyes, seeing the fear mixed in with his anger. It hurt.  Bruce spun away from you, running a hand through his hair. Curses mumbled from under his breath. You watched him.

It was so tiring, so painful to live here with him. He was hard on you, mean even. You understood he cared about you, but did he love you like a daughter? Or were you just his child soldier? Tears filled your eyes as your heart ached for Alfred. Alfred would make this better, reason with him or at least be a comfort to you. You couldn’t remember him treating any of your brothers this way, but then again, they always had Alfred. You had no one.

“I’m taking you off patrols indefinitely,” Bruce said, his frown deepening when he turned back to see your tears. You quickly wiped your face with your sleeves. “And I think...you should go live with Dick, (Y/N).”

“What?!” You gasped, hands shaking violently. “Why?!”

Bruce took a deep breath. “I’m not...I’m not the man I used to be. You aren’t getting what you need from me.” He crossed his arms. His face was a steel mask. You wondered if he actually cared. 

“No.” You shook your head before turning and running out of the room. Bruce was right behind you. Your chest tightened, suddenly you felt trapped. You failed to help him. You failed as a Robin. 

“(Y/N)...” Bruce reached out to catch your shoulder, but you shook him off. Each breath hurt. You ran up the stairs of the cave and burst into his study. There was no footsteps behind you. Funny enough that was what hurt most of all.

***

The next morning, Dick ran up the steps of the manor. Bruce left him a message to come collect (Y/N). Is your daughter something to collect? Dick wanted to argue with him, shout at him, but Bruce wouldn’t pick up the phone. He tried calling you, but your phone went straight to voicemail. 

Dick turned the knob, eyes widening when it opened. It wasn’t like Bruce to leave the door unlocked. Security risk and all. Dread festered in Dick’s gut. Something was wrong, he could feel it in the air. 

“Bruce? (Y/N)?” Dick looked around. The manor looked the same except for the dust and stale air.  He swallowed hard. Alfred would have been so upset seeing the manor this way. The only response he got was silence. 

Biting his lip, Dick ran up the stairs toward your room. You were probably packing and couldn’t hear him. 

Dick stood outside your door. It didn’t have the drawings and stickers like it used to. He wondered why you took them off. Alfred hated them, but never had the heart to force you to remove them. Dick ran a hand through his hair, knowing he just answered his own question. His heart sank to his feet. 

There was a lot Dick regretted. He regretted not being around enough after Alfred passed. Too absorbed in his own grief and his own problems. The others were strong, but you were so young and Bruce was so...Bruce.

“(Y/N)?” He knocked on the door. Silence followed. Dick took a deep breath and tried the doorknob. It turned. Dick’s eyes widened slightly as he peeked inside your room. 

Your room was barren. He almost didn’t recognize it. You used to have toys around, pictures, posters, things that made the room yours. He remembered how happy you were when Tim gifted you several posters of your favorite actors and actresses to put up. Those were all gone. Just the bed, dresser, and partly ajar closet. 

The bed was neatly made except for the note on the pillow. Dick sighed. He should have came as soon as he got the call the night before. Grabbing the note, he opened it. I’m sorry. Dick blinked, turning the note over to see no other words. “Fuck.” He bit his lip and stormed out of the room. 

Bruce’s rooms were as empty as was the kitchen and the study. Dick went to the grandfather clock, turning the hands to 10:27 before sprinting down the stairs. 

He saw red when he found Bruce sitting at the batcomputer on a conference call with the Justice League. Bruce had his cowl on, acting like the stoic, coldhearted asshole that he always was. 

Dick marched over. “He’ll have to get back to you,” Dick said sharply as he reached over to end the call. The surprise on the League’s members’ faces did nothing for Dick. 

“What the hell are you doing?!” Bruce pushed Dick away from the batcomputer. Dick stumbled, catching himself on the edge of the computer. 

“Did you even bother to check?” Dick threw the paper in Bruce’s face. Bruce caught it and crumpled it in his hand. “You told your daughter you were sending her away and you didn’t bother to check on her?!” Dick threw his hands in the air. “She’s gone, Bruce! All she left was that note saying she was sorry!” It was selfish, but it felt good to yell at Bruce. Dick only hoped his words sunk in.

Bruce tensed. He took off his cowl, revealing the new lines on his face. A bit more gray in his hair. Dick’s shoulders sank in relief as Bruce smoothed out the note to look at it. 

“Damn it.” Bruce set the note on the computer before sinking into his chair like all the bones left his body. Dick’s anger cooled at the sight. The reaction is what he needed to see to know there was hope for Bruce, but a minute passed without Bruce moving. 

Dick tapped his foot. “Well, are we going to look for her?!” Dick crossed his arms to stop himself from reaching out to shake Bruce’s shoulders.

“You have custody now.” Bruce turned away, running a hand over his blank expression. “It’s best you handle it.”

Now Dick was a bit of a hothead in his youth. It took him years to cool his anger, but it took that moment alone to strip all those years away. In a blink of an eye, Dick’s fist flew and sucker punched Bruce in the face. 

Bruce took the hit, probably because he wasn’t expecting it. In a flash, Bruce was standing, fists flying toward Dick. Dick ducked. “Yeah, that’s right. I can take your hits,” Dick spat. “Is this what you did to (Y/N), Bruce? Swung at her without warning.” 

“I never hit her!” Bruce dropped into full Batman mode. Dick dodged, flipping out of the way of every hit, playing the defensive. The reasonable part of Dick knew that he threw the first punch, but Dick at this moment didn’t care. 

“Sure you didn’t. Where’d she get those bruises, Bruce? You grounded her from patrol.” Dick didn’t duck fast enough and took a hit to the side of the head. He saw stars, but quickly spun out of the way of Bruce’s right hook. 

Suddenly, Bruce grabbed the front of Dick’s shirt and held him very close to his face. “I wouldn’t hurt my kids. We sparred, she didn’t block. I didn’t go easy on her because going easy means death in our line of work. You know that, Dick.” Bruce shoved Dick to the floor. Dick grunted, his back hitting one of the crates. 

Bruce turned away, grabbing a taser from one of the tables and threw it across the cave. It shattered with a boom that echoed. Bats screeched. Dick slowly got to his feet. He was going to feel it all later. “So help us look for her. If you love her and care for her like a father should, then you need to help us find her.” 

“She doesn’t need me.” Bruce turned to give Dick a pained look. “I make her flinch.”

Dick pursed his lips. He sighed, taking out his phone to message the others to get the search for you started. Most of his anger faded, but his disappointment remained. “Well, we’ll be on the comms. Join us if you want.” Dick turned and started up the stairs of the cave. He stopped after a moment and turned back to Bruce. “You know, if you believe she thinks you don’t love her, then maybe being the one to find her would be enough to prove otherwise.”

Bruce didn’t reply. Dick sighed and turned away, calling Barbara to start the search.

***

You sat down on the sandy beach, dropping your backpack next to you. The sun was warm. You closed your eyes, enjoying it’s shine. The last time you had been to a beach was...you couldn’t remember.

When you slipped out of the manor about an hour after your father told you that you were being sent away, you didn’t know where to go. You didn’t want to go to Dick or the others. They’d say you were a failure. They were all good partners to your father. 

You swallowed hard, opening your eyes to watch the families on the beach. Some kids were playing in the water while their parents watched. You wondered what that must be like. Your heart panged. 

It wasn’t your plan to come to the beach, which is why you stuck out like a sore thumb wearing jeans and a sweatshirt while everyone else was in bathing suits. All you wanted was to get out of the city and the first bus out of town was to a beach town in North Carolina. 

You laid down on the sand, taking a deep breath of the salty air. It was only a matter of time before one of the family found you. You didn’t cover your tracks well, using a credit card to pay for the bus ticket and a snack at the station. 

The sand was so soft. You dug your fingers into the sand and let it fall through your fingers. 

Footsteps approached you. You tensed, reaching to hug your backpack to your side tightly. A shadow blocked the sun from you. “So you ran away from home to lay on a beach?” 

Your eyes flew open to find Jason Todd staring down at you with a smirk. An ‘eep’ escaped you as you scrambled away from him. Jason’s smirk fell into a frown. 

“What’s wrong with you, kid? I got Dick telling me that you’re missing.” Jason sat down next to you, keeping his distance though. You forced yourself to relax. “I caught you walking through Gotham on your own while I was heading home from a...meeting.” Jason cleared his throat. “So what’s going on?”

You pulled your knees to your chest, looking out at the ocean. A father held the hand of his young daughter as she walked in the surf. You swallowed hard, trying to remember if your father held your hand like that. Probably not. 

“Kinda a long way to follow me, isn’t it?” you whispered. Your throat tightened, taking your voice with it. 

Jason shrugged, stretching his legs out in front of him and slipped off his leather jacket to reveal his black t-shirt under it. He looked as out of place on this beach as you did. “Not every day you find your youngest sibling walking around on their own at four AM only to see them go to the bus station and buy a one way ticket.”

You curled tighter into yourself and rested your cheek on your knees to look away from him. Jason, for his credit, waited for you to speak, people watching. He didn’t usually have the patience, which meant he probably already knew about how you failed your father.

“He’s sending me away,” you finally whispered after swallowing past the lump in your throat. Jason studied you, shifting closer to you. Your eyes burned. A tear slipped out your cheek without warning. “He said he wasn’t the man he was and he can’t love me anymore.” 

Jason was quiet. You sneaked a peek at him only to see his mouth a firm line. His eye twitched, barely concealing rage. “He told you that?” 

“Basically. I could see it in his eyes.” It felt like you opened the flood gate and it all spilled out. “He hasn’t been the same since Alfred died. I try to do my best, but he never finds anything I do good enough. He hits hard when we train and doesn’t seem to care if I can’t dodged his attacks or not. We never stop to rest until he’s done.” You wiped your cheeks with the back of your hand. Your eyes stayed on the sand in front of you. Jason probably thought you were weak. “Then last night, he let me on patrol for the first time in weeks only to yell at me and send me to live with Dick because I disobeyed his orders.”

You looked up at Jason fast, worried he would yell too. “People were in danger, I had to go in. It could have been too late for them.” However, Jason’s eyes shined with emotion. You knew it might not be anger, but that’s what your mind only saw. “I’m sorry. Don’t yell at me.” You covered your ears and rocked yourself back and forth. More tears slid down your cheeks as you mumbled sorry over and over again.

Jason sighed before you felt a heavy arm fall around your shoulders. He pulled you into his side. The touch surprised you. You melted into him, filling a hole you didn’t realize you had in your heart. 

“You did nothing wrong, nothing to be sorry about,” Jason mumbled, resting his chin on the top of your head. His hand rubbed your arm. “You’re okay.” 

It felt so good to be held. You didn’t realize how much you missed it until now. A sob slipped out of you as you buried your face into his chest. Jason hummed and wrapped his other arm around you. 

Jason’s heartbeat was soothing in your ear, better than the ocean only a few meters away. “Is she okay?” A stranger asked Jason.

“She is now. Thank you,” Jason said to them. He tightened his arms around you. His lips pressed against the top of your head. “I love ya, kid. Even when you threw up on me when you were a baby.” 

You laughed softly, hiccupping. “Jay, you never knew me as a baby. I was three when you came to live with us.”

Jason chuckled. “I think you don’t remember.” He pulled away to look you in the eye. His smile reached his eyes. “I was spinning you around. You loved it until I went too fast and you just upchucked all over me.” 

“No, I didn’t.” You shook your head, wiping away from your tears. Jason’s shirt had a damp spot on it. Your face burned at the sight. Glancing at Jason in worry, he just grinned and brushed some of the sand out of your hair. 

“You did. It was terrible. Alfred was so ticked, but I heard him laughing in the next room.” Jason bit his lip, eyes softening. Your heart sank. “So let’s go get something to eat, maybe get a place to stay.” Jason stood up, brushing the sand off his jeans before offering a hand to you.

Sniffling, you took his hand and got to your feet. “Okay.” You grabbed your backpack. Jason snatched up his jacket and wrapped his arm around your shoulders to lead you off the beach and toward the boardwalk.

***

His phone beeped with a text from the family group chat. Dick was asking everyone for an update. Jason stared at the text, watching the others respond. They knew you bought a bus ticket, but weren’t sure what bus you got on. Bruce wasn’t part of the search.

Jason didn’t think he could be this angry at Bruce. At this point, he was back to ‘just back from the dead to find I wasn’t avenged and replaced’ stage. He took a deep breath before texting he didn’t find anything yet. 

You sighed in your sleep and rolled over in the hotel bed. Jason looked up from his phone. He was lounging on the armchair in the corner with his booted feet up on the end of the bed. Once you had a full stomach, Jason got the room and you went to bed right away. 

Bruce didn’t deserve you. You were so sweet when you were little, back before he died. Besides the vomiting incident at least, but to be honest, Jason always smiled when he remembered. 

Of course, he knew he shouldn’t worry the family. He would be pissed if he knew that any of them knew where you were and didn’t tell him, but Jason couldn’t. 

Bruce needed to suffer. He needed to feel the guilt and the pain that he had put you through. Borderline abuse. If Jason had known, he would have gotten you out of there. 

Jason sighed and closed his eyes. Dick mentioned something about being concerned in the group chat, but Jason had muted it. 

His mind went around and around for a long time. He opened the chat several times, but couldn’t make himself type the message. 

A whimper came from you. Jason dropped his phone and instantly went to your side. He sat on the end of your bed, gently carting his fingers through your hair. Your eyes squeezed together. A soft ‘I’m sorry’ slipped from between your lips. 

“Hush, you’re safe. No one is going to hurt you. Big brother is here,” Jason whispered. He took a deep breath to still the rage that bubbled up inside him. You relaxed, soothed by his touch. Jason’s heart swelled and in that moment, Jason decided a little vacation away from your father and the rest of the family was just what you needed.

***

After the first week passed and you weren’t found, Bruce started his own investigation. He was impressed by how fast you disappeared, but he felt sick knowing you were out in the world somewhere alone. 

By the second week, Bruce followed leads only to find dead ends. None of the family found anything. Bruce had concluded you had to have been kidnapped. There was no other way you would be gone without a trace.

Third week, Bruce tracked down Ra’s al Ghul, Deathstroke, and Lady Shiva. None of them were part of your disappearance. He did checks into Task Force X and the government, but those were dead ends as well.

Bruce marched through the watchtower. It was the fourth week and no sign of you. He knew he looked rough from how Fire and Ice looked at him as he passed. A month old beard on his face. You would have left a razor by his suit in the changing room by now. There wasn’t time to eat or sleep, not when he needed to find you.

A flash of you as a little girl, running to hug him when he got home from patrol. You had a big smile on your face. He realized he couldn’t remember the last time you smiled. 

Bruce shook his head. Focus. He marched into the meeting room to find Diana, Clark, and Hal waiting. 

“Woah, Bats. Have you showered recently? Sheez.” Hal held his nose and waved his hand in front of his face. 

A growl slid past Bruce’s lips. “My daughter is missing. I don’t have time for you, Jordan.” Clark and Diana shared a worried look. Hal just whistled.

“We know. Nightwing asked for our help,” Clark said, getting to his feet and reaching out to touch Bruce’s shoulder. Bruce flinched away from him. “We couldn’t find anything, Bruce. I’ve been sweeping the globe every few hours.”

Diana stood up, studying Bruce carefully. “When the last time you slept?”

“Let me know if you find anything.” Bruce turned sharply and started out of the room. He stopped when a green wall appeared in front of him. 

“Nah, we can’t let you go like this, B. You look like you could collapse at any moment,” Hal said. Bruce spun to face him, glaring darkly. Hal was straight faced. Both Diana and Clark took a step toward him.

“Let me ask you.” Bruce held up a hand, stopping all three. “If it was your daughter, would you stop to rest?” He jabbed a finger at Hal. “You don’t have children, so you can’t understand, but I will only ask once for you to let me leave.”

Clark sighed. “Bruce...” He took another step forward. “Just sit down for a minute. I’ll do another sweep. Hal will too. Please. You passing out won’t help (Y/N).” 

Bruce took a deep breath before melting into one of the chairs. The three heroes looked surprised. Clark and Hal flew off while Diana sat down beside him. “We’ll find her, Bruce,” Diana soothed. Bruce rested his head against the back of the chair and closed his eyes. He remembered the look on your face when he told you he was sending you away. It sent a shiver down his spine. He needed to find you soon. That will not be his last memory of you.

***

Jason laid back in his lounge chair, watching you and Artemis walk along the beach. Bizarro laid on the sand next to him, snoring away. After you had woken up, Jason offered to take you to the Outlaws’ Island. You happily agreed. It had been four weeks now, and Jason could see the changes in you. You smiled more, laughed more, your confidence and sense of self blossomed. Jason chuckled, watching Artemis and you race down the beach. 

The island was off the grid, had protective shields that blocked it from radar and anyone with super sight or hearing. Jason still didn’t tell the family he had you. He hoped Bruce was suffering, sick with worry. Jason only felt a little guilty.

“Superman didn’t fly by again,” Bizarro said, waking up with a jerk. “He’s not looking.”

“I know.” Jason crossed his arms and relaxed. “But we’re not going to worry about it.”

“Bizarro is worried.” Bizarro laid back down and quickly went back to sleep. His snore shook Jason’s chair. Jason snorted. Superman was probably looking for you. 

He smiled when he saw you and Artemis diving into the water for a swim. Spending time with Artemis was good for you. Jason knew from the first few days how much you craved attention from anyone. He closed his eyes, listening to the sound of you and Artemis joking and laughing at each other. 

***

“I got information about an ancient Greek artifact being auctioned off in a week. Maxie Zeus is planning on buying it,” Artemis said as she walked into the den. Bizarro sat cross-legged in front of the tv, awed by The Lion King. A movie Bizarro picked out. Jason was reclining in the armchair. The chair was big enough for you to lay beside him, fast asleep and snuggled into his side. 

“Good, we’ll make a plan in the morning,” Jason said softly, glancing down at you when you shifted closer to him. 

Artemis sat on the couch. She raised an eyebrow at the tv before studying Jason with narrowed eyes. Jason ignored her gaze, watching the tv. 

You woke up once the movie was done. “I’m going to bed,” you yawned, stretching your arms. Jason put the footrest down and helped you up. “Good night.” Jason ruffled your hair, Artemis patted your arm, while Bizarro waved wildly.

“Bad night, (Y/N).” Bizarro smiled big before turning back to the tv as the credits rolled. 

Once you were out of the room, Jason turned to look at Artemis who was still staring at him. “Okay, what is it?”

“We can’t keep (Y/N) here forever.” Artemis crossed her arms. “Superman flew over the island fourteen times today. They even officially announced her disappearance with a million dollar reward for her return.” Jason pursed his lips. Artemis stood up as if her height would make her point. “You have to at least let them know she’s here. I understand your cause. Her father doesn’t deserve her, but I think he may have suffered enough, Jason.”

Jason stood up, puffing his chest out a little as he looked up to meet her gaze. “He abused her.”

“A man who doesn’t love his child wouldn’t spend four weeks running around the world, pulling favors, attacking super villains, and who knows what else just to find them.” Artemis smiled rather sadly at him. “I read the reports you’ve been keeping on their search for her. She needs to go home.”

“(Y/N) said she not homesick.” Bizarro turned to look at the two. Jason bit his lip, backing away from Artemis. He ran a hand through his hair. 

“Bruce hurt her, Art.” Jason’s eyes burned. He turned away quickly before they noticed the shine in his eyes. “(Y/N) is the sweetest kid. She didn’t deserve to feel like nothing, to feel like no one cared about her. When I found her, she was craving for attention, love. That bastard didn’t even care she was gone. He didn’t start looking himself for a week.”

Artemis sighed. “I’m not saying that we just hand her over.” She laid a hand on Jason’s shoulder. “But they need to know she’s safe. Jason, they already may not forgive you for this.” 

Jason groaned, rolling his eyes and running a hand over his face. Part of him refused to do it, wanting to keep you here and safe, but then he realized, he was acting a bit like Bruce. Locking you away on the island forever wouldn’t be possible. 

His shoulders dropped. “I’ll talk to (Y/N) after the mission. It has to be her choice.” He looked at Artemis. “Not anyone else’s.”

Artemis nodded. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.” Bizarro grinned and gave Jason a thumbs down. 

“We might as well start our plan to get that artifact since you’re all bleeding hearts right now.” Jason straightened his shoulders and gestured for them to follow him out of the room. Bizarro pouted, but got to his feet. Artemis just rolled her eyes.

***

“Hey Jay?” you asked, peeking into his office to find Jason sitting at his desk, studying a set of building plans. “What are you doing?” You opened the door wider when he looked up and smiled.

Jason chuckled. “Going over the plans of the auction house for the mission.” His eyes stayed on you as you wandered over to pull Mansfield Park out of his bookshelf. 

“What mission?” You hugged the book to your chest and joined him at his desk. He tugged on a strand of your hair. 

“Right, we talked about it after you went to bed.” Jason rubbed his chin. “Artemis found out a Greek relic is being auctioned off and Maxie Zeus is planning on buying it. We’re going to get it first.” He crossed his arms, frowning slightly at the plans. “It’s just...this auction house is very old and doesn’t have the best layout for an escape.”

“Why don’t you go in quietly?” You studied the layout. “Go in disguise, buy the artifact, and get out of there before Maxie Zeus knows what happened.”

Jason hummed. “That’s a good idea. Just that Artemis and Bizarro can’t do undercover work. Maxie will be looking for anyone looking like an Amazon or a Super.”

“I mean I could.” You bounced on your toes, looking up at Jason with sparkling eyes. “He wouldn’t be looking for me.”

Jason’s eyes widened. “Now that’s a thought.” He looked back at the building plans. “But you can’t go in alone. You’re too young. It would raise suspicion.” Jason sat back in his chair. “But if I came with you...” He chuckled. “That could work. If you’re up for it, (Y/N)? I don’t want to push you.”

You grinned, leaning against the desk. “I’m game.” You bit your lip. “Dad wouldn’t be mad about it, would he?”

Jason paused. “Kid, we don’t have to worry about your dad. It’s just a mission.” He reached up and ruffled your hair. You batted his hand away, giggling. He looked down at his copy of Mansfield Park. “Really? You chose that one instead of Emma?” 

“I already read Emma.” You put a hand on your hip. “And you said Mansfield Park is one you have to read once in your life.” 

Jason scoffed. “I guess I did, but be ready. It’s got nothing on Emma.” The two of you fell into a book debate. You admitted you hadn’t been this happy in a very long time.

***

You stepped in front of the mirror and wrinkled your nose. “Are you sure I have to dress like this? No normal rich kid dresses like this, you know that.”

“But it fits the type, doesn’t it?” Jason said as he leaned back against the chair in the dressing room. You spun around, hating the outfit. It reminded you of what Vickie Vale wore at the last Wayne Tech party when she was trying to get your father’s attention. Too fancy and the cut on you was awful.

Jason put on his sunglasses and adjusted his suit coat. He looked like some trust fund baby. Of course, you were pretending to be his daughter. You pointed out that you would have been a teen pregnancy. Jason thought it was funny, and said it frankly worked with the part you were trying to play.

The store attendant came in and poured her attention over Jason. You listened in, pretending you loved the clothes. Jason played the part well. You wished you got a video of this, maybe to use as bribery in the future. “I think that’s all, but is it okay for my little bean to wear this out? She just loves it so much,” Jason cooed to her.

“Of course, I’ll have everything else bagged up and sent to your hotel as promised.” The woman almost drooled. 

“Thanks Daddy.” You had to swallow a bit of vomit. Even Bruce was only Dad, you never called him Daddy ever. However, you forced an adoring smile on your face as you skipped over to kiss Jason’s cheek. 

“Anything for my baby.” Jason patted your back before turning to the attendant. “We must be on our way. I have an auction to get to.” 

The attendant saw them out, continuously talking even when you both were out the door. “Can I never call you Daddy again?” you whispered as you approached the Red Camaro. 

Jason got in the driver’s seat. You hopped in the passenger side. Once the doors were closed, Jason turned to you. “Never again. It was weird, but fit the part. Good job.” He winked at you.

Turning on the Camaro, Jason zoomed down the street somewhat recklessly. “Is this really going to work? Us pretending to be rich dummies and outbidding the artifact from Maxie Zeus? I thought we’d take the smart museum curator approach.” You bit your lip and adjusted your outfit. 

“Do you think I could be a museum curator? Maybe Tim could, he’s boring enough.” Jason smirked. “Besides, Art and Bizarro are already in position. It will be fine.” 

You hummed, closing your eyes. After a moment of silence, you dared to speak. “Jay, have you heard from Dad or the others at all?” Your heart ached slightly. No one tried to contact you in the month you’ve been gone. Jason would have told you if they did. 

Jason flinched, glancing at you before focusing on the road. He worried his lip. “I didn’t tell them you were with me.” Your eyes widened in surprise. Jason blushed. “I wanted you to have time to figure things out, to heal, but they’re all looking for you. Even publicly announced your disappearance.” 

“Is that why you had me change my hair color?” You touched your hair, feeling the cheap dye that hadn’t been all washed out. Dyeing your hair in an airplane bathroom hadn’t been easy. 

“Kid, they have a million dollar reward for your return.” Jason sighed, clenching at the steering wheel. “Listen, I was going to tell you, but I wanted to wait until after the mission. You don’t have to decide anything right now, because it is your choice. I’m happy to keep you with me forever if you want.” 

Butterflies fluttered in your stomach as you grinned. “Thanks Jay.” 

Jason relaxed with a chuckle, looking at you. “You’re welcome, kid. Now let’s just focus on the mission for now. Hakuna Matata.”

“Sure Pumba.” You bit your lip to hold back a laugh.

Jason gasped as he stopped at a stop sign. “Hey, I’m Simba if anything. Prodigal son and all that.” You both laughed hard enough that Jason missed his turn.

***

Dick walked through a homeless shelter in Coast City. He saw several young teens. His heart ached for them, but none of them were you. 

A beep came from his phone. ‘Call me. We have a sighting of (Y/N).’ Dick hurried out of the shelter, tapping Barbara’s name as he walked down the steps. Damian was waiting outside, tapping his foot impatiently. He opened his mouth to speak, but Dick held up a hand to stop him.

“My program caught her face on a security camera in a boutique in Greece. Jason was with her. Her hair was different, but it was (Y/N),” Barbara said, not bothering with a greeting. 

“Jason? I should have known,” Dick said. Damian’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “How long ago was the sighting?”

“Twenty minutes. I’ll send the jet to meet you. ETA ten minutes.” Barbara hung up. 

Damian huffed. “Todd had her this whole time?” His fists clenched. Dick laid a hand on his shoulder, rubbing gently as if to take away the tension.

“Let’s just focus on the fact (Y/N) is safe.” Dick took the car keys out of his pocket. “We got a jet to catch.” The two men headed off.

***

Bruce stood up so fast, his batcomputer chair flew back and fell onto the floor. Barbara’s message was loud and clear. Bruce had hacked into her system to monitor their progress on the search. The tension in his shoulders drained out of him. He dwelled in the moment, knowing you were safe.

However, rage filled him at the thought of Jason keeping you from him. Not letting anyone know where you were. Irresponsible. Selfish.

The computer beeped with the location of the sighting. Bruce grabbed his cowl and ran toward the batplane.

***

You swung your legs as you sat on one of the hinged chairs in the theater-like room of the old auction house. Jason was off getting a drink and mingling to learn the lay of the room. You were taking mental notes of your own. There was a hidden door in the bottom of the stage, but the quickest exit was the door on the left. If you remembered the map Jason had you memorize, that door would take you down a long hallway toward the kitchens.

The entrance doors banged open suddenly. You spun around in surprise. Maxie Zeus announced himself with a booming voice as three men dressed like gladiators carried him in on a throne that looked like clouds. “That’s insane,” you mumbled. 

“I know everyone needs a theme, but it’s stupid,” Jason said, appearing beside you with a glass of whiskey in his hand. He handed another glass to you. You raised an eyebrow. “It’s just a coke. Calm down.” He sat down next to you, eyeing the room. 

Taking the glass, you sipped at it to confirm. “He’s got plain clothes men in the corners,” you said softly. The men all had lightning symbols on their ties. Not subtle at all.

Jason smirked. “Good catch. We might have a hard time leaving if we outbid him.” Jason downed his drink. “I have Art and B moving to interfere. Unfortunately, this won’t be as quiet as we wanted.” He handed his glass off to a passing waiter who was relieved to have a reason not to approach Maxie Zeus. “I want you to run if this becomes a fire fight. Put on your suit and follow Art’s lead.”

You blinked. You assumed you would be told to run, not come back. “Will do.” Take a sip of your coke, you hid a smile. Your heart lifted. Finally, you were trusted in the way you always wanted. People began to take their seats as the auctioneer took the stage.

***

Dick and Damian skydived out of the jet, parachuting toward the auction house. “You have company,” Barbara reported quietly. “I got Batman on one of the cameras inside.”

“So B does care.” Dick pursed his lips as he and Damian floated down to land on a roof about a block from the auction house. 

“Father is here?” Damian unclipped his parachute, letting it collect itself back into the pack. 

“Yeah, so we’ll have to stay sharp.” Dick put his own pack together, dropping it on the roof for pickup later. “(Y/N) and Jason are in a tight situation.”

“TT.” Damian suddenly tensed, grabbing Dick’s arm. Dick looked at him in surprise. Damian was looking up. Dick followed his gaze to see Bizarro floating above them with a smile on his face.

Dick pursed his lips, fighting the urge to attack. Bizarro was on Jason’s side, and Jason was on their side. Hopefully. “Red Him said you were coming,” Bizarro said after a moment.

“He knew we were coming?” Damian hissed, reaching for his sword. Dick gestured for Damian to stop.

“No, Bizarro speaks in opposites.” Dick smiled. “Hi Bizarro, we’re looking for (Y/N).”

“(Y/N) isn’t in auction house with Red Him. We aren’t on a special mission for Red Her.” Bizarro landed on the roof with a thump. Damian eyed the roof nervously before checking to see if they had been seen. The streets were busy this time of evening. Lots of tourists. “Bizarro wasn’t ordered to help little people when nothing happens.”

Damian snorted, crossing his arms. Dick held up a hand. “Let us help. Can you take us to Artemis?”

Bizarro shook his head with a big grin. He grabbed Damian by the back of his cape. Damian grunted in protest, but stayed quiet. Dick just grabbed Bizarro’s other arm and they were in the air, heading toward the auction house. He updated Barbara as they flew.

***

Bruce frowned from his position in the rafters of the auction house. You were in the middle of the room, in the direct line of fire if Maxie Zeus broke the peace. He swallowed hard. His comm beeped. Bruce answered without thinking.

“Batman, Nightwing and Redbird are here. They are assisting the Outlaws in taking down Maxie Zeus and retrieving a Greek artifact. Can I connect your comm with theirs, so you can coordinate?” Barbara’s voice startled him only slightly. Dick and Damian were here too. Bruce frowned, too many risks here.

“My priority is (Y/N). Nothing else.” Bruce’s voice barely above a whisper, knowing sound would travel. He frowned when he saw how badly your hair was dyed. The clothes you were wearing were so unlike you. 

Barbara sighed. “Please, Bruce. We’re more likely to get (Y/N) out safely if we’re all working together.”

Bruce knew she was right. He had more children here now. “Fine, patch me in.”

***

Jason grabbed your hand, squeezing gently as the artifact was brought on stage. It looked like nothing special, a simple wooden box. However, inside was a old arrowhead. The auctioneer said it has the arrow that killed Achilles.

You leaned over to him. “Really?”

“Art says so,” Jason mumbled, frowning slightly. You remembered he had a comm in his ear. The Outlaws only had three of them, so you didn’t have one. “We have company by the way.”

“What company?” You glanced at the doors, but they were still closed. Maxie Zeus still had the same amount of goons as before. 

“Your father is here along with the double Ds.” Jason pursed his lips. “I should have known they had face recognition software looking for you.” 

You tensed, a shiver running down your spine. “He’s going to be mad.” Your heart pounded so hard, it could have burst out of your chest. 

Jason grabbed your hand. He squeezed tight. “He can’t hurt you. You are Robin,” he whispered in your ear. “You earned it and that can never be taken away from you.”

Blinking, you felt blood rushing to your face. “Really?”

“Really.” Jason smirked, kissing your cheek. “Now let’s focus.”

You nodded, watching the stage as the bidding began. 

“A hundred thousand Drachma, young mortal.” Maxie’s voice boomed throughout the room. You glanced back at him. He was brimming with confidence. 

With a shit-eating grin, Jason raised his hand. “Two hundred thousand Euros.”

The air was sucked out of the room. You forced a smile on your face. 

“You dare?!” Maxie waved his bolt of lightning around. “Foolish little nothing. Three hundred thousand Drachma.”

“Four hundred thousand Euros.” Jason took your hand. “My baby wants it, so she gets it.” He threw you a smile. You acted like you were excited, hopefully others will not notice you were shaking with fear.

“One million Drachma!” Maxie screamed, pointing his bolt of lightning toward a empty chair. Electric energy hit the chair. You could smell the smoke. Some people screamed. You only flinched. Jason just hummed.

“Actually sir.” The auctioneer cleared his throat. Nervous sweat dripped down his face. “Drachma is not one of our accepted currencies.”

Several people quietly began to move toward the doors. Maxie’s men blocked them from leaving. “Okay, this is about to blow,” Jason hissed. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “Bizarro is going to bust through the far door.” Jason nodded toward the door. You eyed it.

“He can’t. It will hurt civilians.” You pursed your lips. 

Jason let out a slow breath. “Fine, but move once he strikes.” 

Maxie Zeus raised his bolt and aimed it at the auctioneer. The auctioneer held up his hands, knees quaking. “No one defies the King of the Gods.” 

Time slowed. Jason pushed you down. You heard the crack of energy from Maxie’s bolt. The auctioneer cried out as a familiar black form soared from the rafters and tackled him out of the way. The bolt hit the curtain behind where the auctioneer stood and it burst into flames.

“Go,” Jason said. You sprinted toward the door as Maxie’s guard pulled out their own lightning weapons. With no hesitation, you leaped at one of the guard blocking the door and kick the weapon out of his hands. 

You heard gunshots behind you, but you ignored it, punching out the guard. Civilians ran through the door. You disappeared into the panicked crowd.

***

Bruce moved off the auctioneer. “Run,” he whispered in the man’s ear. The auctioneer didn’t need to be told twice and joined the crowd leaving the room.

You were safe. Bruce caught a glimpse of you in the crowd. He relaxed slightly before standing up to face Maxie Zeus.

“Aww, Hades. Why are you here? You never did care much for weapons,” Maxie said, studying Bruce in his full batsuit. 

“I don’t.” Bruce growled. “Stand down Maximilian.”

Jason hopped on the stage next to Bruce. His red hood suit was on along with the helmet. He picked up the box with the arrowhead inside and slipped it into his pocket. “Tell your demon to put the box down. He is unworthy to touch it,” Maxie said, aiming his bolt at Jason. Jason dodged to avoid the blast. The fire began to spread. Smoke filled the room.

“We need to get him outside,” Jason said into the comm. He coughed. Bruce grabbed Jason’s jacket and pulled him out of the way of another blast from Maxie. “Bizarro, put out the fire, will ya?”

“We’re going to have a long talk after this is over,” Bruce snapped, throwing a batarang to knock Maxie’s bolt out of his hand. Maxie scrambled after it.

Jason hummed. Bruce could feel the iciness of his gaze even though his eyes were hidden under his helmet. “We do.”

Bizarro burst through the far wall and shot ice beams at the flames. Bruce’s mouth twitched as Jason suddenly ran forward to attack Maxie. Maxie’s men swarmed, firing wildly. Bruce dodged and joined Jason in the fight.

***

You hid behind a corner in the chaos, changing into your makeshift Robin suit.  Tossing the ugly outfit into the flames nearby, you helped some people out of the building. 

“Robin, keep helping with the rescue,” Artemis ordered once you met her outside. You nodded. She patted your head and sprinted inside with her battle ax. 

You guided people out. A young woman ran out, sputtering in Greek. You grabbed her when she stumbled. 

“What’s wrong?” You asked, mind swirling as you tried to remember what little Greek you knew. 

She gestured back inside. “Papa...he’s...”

A boom echoed from inside the building. Parts of the roof collapsed. People screamed in horror. The woman burst into tears, mumbling incoherently. 

Your stomach sunk to your feet. You told yourself that your family all knew what they were doing. They were experts.

“I’ll go get him.” You helped the woman to lean against an emergency vehicle. She collapsed against it, sobbing. 

Time slowed. You eyed the building. Artemis told you to help with the rescue, but you knew she meant for you to stay outside. Your blood ran hot. A flash of Bruce’s angry face appeared before your eyes. 

“You’re Robin.” You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Pushing yourself forward, you sprinted into the building. 

***

Bruce ducked another blast from Maxie’s bolt. “Red Hood.” Jason’s head tilted slightly, glancing Bruce’s way. Bruce gestured to his forehead then chin. Jason nodded and slipped out of Maxie’s sight.

Dick and Damian were evacuating Maxie’s unconscious men. Bizarro and Artemis were attempting to prevent the building from full collapse. However, given the amount of debris falling, Bruce knew it was only a matter of time.

“Maximillian, you’ve lost.” Bruce stood tall, straightening his shoulders. 

“Zeus never loses!” Maxie aimed his bolt at Bruce’s chest. Bruce held out his arms and waited.

The tip of the bolt glowed. A smirk pulled at Bruce’s lips as he saw Red Hood jump out of the shadows and struck a nerve strike to Maxie’s neck. Maxie fell like a ton of bricks. 

“The building is going to collapse, there is nothing we can do,” Artemis said through the comm. “We need to get out now. Are you done toying with Maxie Zeus?”

“Yeah, we’re good.” Jason grunted, picking up Maxie’s bolt and tucking it in his belt. Bruce came to his side and picked up Maxie. Jason quickly supported the other side and both men dragged him out. Damian and Dick led the way, carrying the last of Maxie’s men between them.

The building groaned around them. Debris fell from the ceiling. They made it to the lobby. 

“You’re going to be alright.” Your voice drifted from somewhere off to Bruce’s right. His blood ran cold.

“Who’s got eyes on Robin?” Bruce demanded into the comms. Jason grunted, Bruce took more of Maxie’s weight as they neared the entrance.

“Robin was outside, helping with the evac,” Artemis said. Her voice cracked. 

Dick cleared his throat. “No sign of her out here.”

“Civilians last saw Robin going into the building.” Damian’s voice sounded very young. A lump formed in Bruce’s throat. 

Bruce felt Jason’s gaze on him as they paused just inside the doorway out. Jason sighed deeply. “I got Maxie. Go get her,” Jason mumbled softly. 

Bruce carefully shifted all of Maxie’s weight to Jason and sprinted off toward the direction of your voice. 

***

The man’s leg was trapped under a piece of the roof. You knelt down next to him, trying to soothe him as you assessed the damage.

Dust showered from above combining with the remaining smoke from the fire. You coughed, glancing around the hallway. It looked like it led toward the backstage of the main theater where the auction was held. You wondered if the roof debris fell on the man when Bizarro broke through the building. 

There was a big hole to your left, leading through another room, then to the lobby. 

You swallowed hard, taking out a flashlight to study the man’s leg. It looked like it wasn’t wedged, which meant you could move it off without causing him pain or life threatening injury. 

The man tapped your arm rapidly, babbling on. He pointed to the ceiling. The building whined around you.

“You’re going to be alright.” You took his hand and squeezed it gently. The man relaxed, still mumbling what you couldn’t understand. He closed his eyes. 

You gripped the side of the roof and pulled. Your arms almost came out of their sockets. You bit your lip, using all your strength, but the roof piece didn’t move. 

“Damn, I wish I had a comm,” you mumbled, letting go. The man looked at you with a scary look of acceptance. He spoke and pointed to the exit.

“No, I’m going to get you out.” You tried to lift it again. The man just closed his eyes again. “Come on.”

More dust fell. You coughed again, but you kept pulling at the roof piece. Suddenly, you felt the roof move.

You almost laughed, watching the man’s eyes widen in fear as he slid out from under the roof. 

“Robin.” Your heart stopped. You turned to find Batman holding onto the roof piece. “Let go. I’m going to drop it.”

You jumped back. Bruce dropped it. The bang echoed throughout the building, kicking up more dust. It went straight into your lungs.

Coughing hard, you swore you saw the man ran out of the building after a sharp word from Bruce. 

Bruce’s arms wrapped around you and your face was shoved into his shoulder. Your legs left the ground. Air rushed around your ears as you heard the crack of the building’s walls giving out. 

You couldn’t get air in your lungs. Black swarmed your vision as the sound of shattering glass filled your ears. Bruce’s arms disappeared from around you and you felt a flash of pain before darkness overtook you.

***

Pain flared through your body. Your ears rang. You lifted your arm only to feel someone touch it and gently guide it down. 

Suddenly, you were weightless, pressed against a warm mass. It was hard to breathe, your lungs heavy as two stones in your chest.

A mask was placed over your mouth and nose, fresh air filled your airways. You coughed, reaching up to pull at the mask only for another hand to hold it there.

“You’re okay, you’re okay,” Dick’s voice broke through the ringing. Your eyes felt sealed shut. You reached up to rub them only for someone to push your hands down again.

Suddenly, you were laid down on a hard surface. “Relax, kiddo. You’re okay, we’re all okay,” Dick soothed again. A hand held yours, you squeezed their fingers. “Good kid.” Lips pressed against your forehead before pulling away.

Voices bubbled to the surface. The panic in them made you shiver. A blanket was laid over you as Dick continued to soothe. The edge in his voice scared you. 

You forced your eyes open, blinking at the bright lights. A dark shadow hovered above you. Your head hurt as you focused enough to see Dick’s head was turned.

“Straight to the Watchtower. Damian, call them, have the med team ready for when we come in,” Dick said. His hand tightened around yours. “Jay, take B off first. He’s worse off.”

Your heart stopped. Ice cold sunk into your body as you turned your head to follow Dick’s gaze. 

Blood dripped onto the floor from the tip of a gloved hand. You choked when you realized it was Batman’s glove. 

You gasped, causing pain to flare in your chest as you tried to sit up. Dick’s attention was back on you as he held you down.

“(Y/N), you’re fine. Bruce is going to be fine too, but you need to stay still and calm for me, okay?” Dick looked into your eyes. His mask was off. You knew it meant something was very wrong. He never would have taken his mask off in the field. 

You fought harder, ignoring the pain. Dick swore, holding you down rather roughly. Artemis appeared beside him with a needle in her hand. You screamed through the mask as you felt the prick of the needle. 

The strength seeped out of you like water down a drain. Black swarmed your vision. “Sleep now,” Dick whispered, running his fingers through your hair. The last thing you saw was the tears in his eyes.

***

You woke to a loud snore. A dull pain throbbed in your head as you opened your eyes. The lights were dim. You reached up to rub your eyes only to feel the pull of an IV.

Another loud snore. You blinked to find the snore coming from Jason, who was fast asleep in the chair next to your bed. 

You took a breath, feeling the itch of the oxygen tubes in your nose. The heaviness in your lungs was still there, but the oxygen seemed to lighten it somewhat.

The walls were the familiar dark grey of the watchtower and a viewport to your right showed the stars. You swallowed hard, your mouth suddenly very dry.

You couldn’t remember how you got here. The last thing you remembered was...Greece. The building was about to collapse and you were trying to save a man who was trapped. Did you save him?

The door opened to your left. You flinched to find Damian in the doorway, wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt. It would have alarmed you to see him in such casual clothes on the watchtower, but the domino mask over his eyes reassured you. 

“TT.” His shoulders relaxed as he came to your side.

Another snore burst from Jason. Damian sneered in disgust. “Let me guess, his incessant snores woke you,” Damian said, glancing at the monitors above your head. 

You followed his gaze.“Wh...” You paused to try to wet your mouth. “What happened?”

A frown flickered on Damian’s lips. His dark eyes turned back to you. “You don’t remember?” You shook your head. Fear crept up your spine.

Jason snored again. Damian grabbed a cloth from your bedside and hurled it at Jason’s face. Jason sputtered, choking slightly as he jerked awake.

 “The building was going to fall...and the man...did he make it out?” you asked, studying Damian’s steely face. Damian pursed his lips. 

“He made it out,” Damian said. 

You blinked. “But I didn’t make it out?” Damian glanced at Jason, who held his gaze. The silence was heavy.

Jason sighed and reached to take your hand. “You made it out, kid, but...Bruce didn’t.”

Images flashed before your eyes. Bruce beside you, holding up the piece of roof. The feeling of his arms around you as your ears hurt from the noise. Dick’s face sharp with fear. The blood dripping from Batman’s glove.

Suddenly, you couldn’t breathe like your lungs had been transformed into thin paper straws. Black crept into your vision. 

“Woah, hey.” Jason grabbed your shoulders. His eyes looked directly into yours. “He’s alive, just hurt. Calm down.” He took a deep breath. You struggled to copy him. 

“You’re an idiot, Todd.” Damian’s voice somehow made you relax.

“Shut up, demon-brat.” Jason sent a glare Damian’s way. You felt your lungs expand, letting you breathe normally. Your heart slowed. 

“I’m too old to be considered a brat,” Damian retorted.

“That’s what you think.” Jason smirked as he released your shoulders and sat back down. “B is stable, but he’s got a long road ahead, even for him.”

You relaxed, falling against your pillow. “Can I see him?”

Jason raised an eyebrow. “TT, of course, but later though,” Damian said, sitting on the edge of your bed. He sent Jason a glare, which he met with one of his own.

“Rest now.” Jason reached over to squeeze your shoulder. “You hungry? Thirsty?” He got to his feet. You shook your head. “I’ll bring you something anyway. You need to eat.” Jason left the room, stretching his arms above his head. Damian watched him go. 

“You’re not mad at him?” You shivered, pulling the blankets tighter around you. 

“I was, but...well, it doesn’t matter now.” He patted your knee. An odd sense of affection from him, but it felt nice though. “Go back to sleep. I’ll stay with you.”

You felt the exhaustion deep within your bones. Slowly you drifted off. “Damian?” You yawned.

He hummed, watching you with a shine in his eyes that you weren’t sure you ever seen in him before.

“Dad isn’t mad at me, is he? I failed him as Robin.” You opened your eyes in time to see him flinch. 

“No, he’s not upset, nor did you fail.” Damian took your hand, squeezing it tight. You smiled. The last thing you remembered before you fell asleep was how rough the calluses on his hands were.

***

Dick’s arm was around your shoulders, very warm in comparison to the cold air of the watchtower. Even with Damian’s sweatshirt, you were cold. You leaned into him as you both walked down the hall toward Bruce’s room. 

“Just remember he’s got a long road ahead of him. He got out of his last surgery about three hours ago.” Dick smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. 

You nodded. “Thank you.” Your throat tightened, heart skipping a beat. It was all your fault. You should have been stronger, faster. A better Robin.

“We’re here.” Dick kissed the top of your head. You looked up at him to find him studying you. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” You swallowed against the lump in your throat. “I need to see him.”

Dick ran a hand through your hair. “Yeah, okay.” He opened the door, gesturing for you to step in. 

You took a deep breath and stepped inside. Superman was sitting by the bed, looking up with a friendly, tired smile. You smiled back before focusing on the bed.

It didn’t look like him. 

You bit your lip, stepping closer. He was covered in casts and bandages. Monitors beeped around him. An oxygen mask was over his mouth and nose.

“He’s awake,” Superman said, getting to his feet. “Still groggy from the anesthesia.”

“Dad?” His eyes flickered open. You rushed to his side. Your hand floated above his casted arm, not sure if you could touch him. “I’m so sorry.” Tears filled your eyes. “I’m sorry I wasn’t good enough and got you hurt.”

Bruce’s eyes widened slightly. His arm moved into your hand. “Don’t.” His whisper barely escaped the mask. 

Superman removed the mask and stepped back. Dick rubbed your back, making you jump slightly because you had forgotten about him.

“Don’t cry,” Bruce rasped, coughing slightly. 

You wiped your eyes with your sleeves. “I can’t help it.” Your lips trembled.

“So strong, so brave.” Bruce lifted his arm. He winced, but kept moving until he could touch your cheek. “You didn’t fail me. I failed you.”

The breath left your lungs. “What?” 

“I wasn’t the father I should have been.” He brush away a stray tear with his thumb. You leaned into his hand like it was the most natural thing to do. “I’m so proud of you.” He choked slightly. Superman stepped up to try to put the mask back on him, but Bruce shook his head. “You are good enough, always were.”

“Don’t say that.” You took his hand in yours and rested it back on the bed. His arm shook from the strain. 

“I’m not angry at you or Jason.” Bruce gasped, blood draining out of his face. He turned his head toward Superman and let him put the mask back on. His color came back with a few breaths.

Dick grunted, stepping to your side and pulling you against him. “Well, I’m sure he’s still a little upset at Jason. I know I am.” Dick smirked when a snort came from Bruce. 

A smile tugged at your lips at the sound. “I’ll have to ask him and Bizarro how I couldn’t hear you or them for the month you were missing,” Superman said, crossing his arms as he retook his seat by Bruce’s bed. 

Bruce squeezed your hand. You met his eye, seeing the love in them for the first time in months. A love you wondered had always been there, but just hidden.

 You perched on the side of his bed, careful not to hurt him. Bruce’s eyes closed as Dick and Superman made small talk. You kept your hand in his, feeling so small and safe at the same time. 

***

“You want some more, Dad?” You asked, holding out the pitcher of lemonade. Bruce shook his head, shifting in the lounge chair to find a better position. He still had his casts on, but he was healing. 

You took your seat next to him and sipped from your own glass as the sun shined down and warmed your skin. 

The gardens at Wayne Manor were a bit overgrown. Bruce had hired a few gardeners, but it would take time to reshape it to where Alfred had left it. 

A month had past since Greece. Bruce was living at the manor with Tim and Cass taking care of him. You lived with Dick for now. Eventually, once Bruce had healed both physically and mentally, you would move back with him.

However, you made sure to visit a few times a week. Recently, Bruce insisted on sitting with you outside as the days turned sunny and warm for Gotham.

“How’s Bludhaven?” Bruce studied you. You kept your eyes on the gardens.

“Good.” You glanced at him. His lips were pursed, he turned back to the gardens as if to avoid your gaze. You smiled. “Not as cool as Gotham. I can’t wait to come back.” 

A hint of a smile pulled at his lips. He sipped at his lemonade, wrinkling his nose. His jaw was relaxed, something you couldn’t have imagined seeing months ago. 

“Jason wants me to spend the week with him,” you said. You almost laughed when Bruce narrowed his eyes. “With permission this time. He said I had to ask you and Dick. Dick said it was fine, but what do you think, Dad?”

“As long as you have your phone and you check in every day,” Bruce grumbled, crossing his arms. It was hard to do with his casts, you were impressed.

“I will.” You bit your lip. Your heart felt full. “I love you, Dad.”

Bruce looked at you, eyes sparkling slightly. “I love you too,” he mumbled after a moment. A lump formed in your throat as you felt yourself almost burst. You finally had your father back and nothing could have been better.

[ilovetoxicfictionalmen]

DEAD IN THE HEAD

KINKTOBER DAY 28 - DUMBIFICATION WITH JIM

Pairing.| Jim x fem!reader

Summary.| You put yourself into a close call, Jim saves you and wonders how dumb you really are.

Warnings.| Dubcon, head m!receiving, dumbification, deep throat, degrading.

Word count.| 1.2k

Notes.| Had to do him on the 28th

“How fucking stupid are yah, aye!” Jim lectured in hushed tones as he shoved you into your most recent hideout, a small apartment building west of London. 

Almost tripping on over your cheap sneakers, you sniffled back your tears, your body still trembled from the terrifying close call. If it wasn’t for Jim and his handy baseball bat, you’d be ripped from limb to limb instantly. Jim huffed out in frustration and dropped the bat to the floor, his hands rested behind his head as he paced around the room. The only sounds were his heavy breaths and your quiet sobbing. 

It was all your fault, even though you had no cruel intentions. You just wanted to help out for once, so you snuck out to a shopping strip in hopes of finding more supplies. Jim warned you against it when you first considered it. Too dangerous for you, he claimed, he’d always have to accompany you, he continued. But you were sick of contributing nothing to your duo. 

As you stood in the middle of the room like a lost puppy, Jim felt a pulsation of pity towards you. Jim exhaled as he tugged off his blood stained shirt, his pale skin filled your orbs, you gulped at his thin frame emerging closer to you. Not gently, however not roughly, he pulled off your stained hoodie, your hands rubbed over your bare arms. Jim bit his lip at how cropped your singlet was. You pouted at the specs of dried blood on the bridge of his nose and forehead.

The two of you were already sleeping together, the apocalypse split everyone’s souls in half, you both desired someone to hold onto, to comfort one another. The attraction was always clear and love had been growing daily. Jim took you into his arms, he swayed you gently, his eyes bore into your skull as your gaze remained low, fearful of his justified anger towards you.  

“Almost got us killed out there” Jim mumbled, his cold lips close to your ear, you felt his breath fan against your skin, it spiked up your goosebumps. 

You tried to apologize, but the words became mush as it left your lips, you whimpered in total humiliation. Jim chuckled at your timid behavior, how could he stay mad at you when you were so damn helpless? 

“How dumb are you?” Jim whispered. 

“Jim?” you frowned, confusion whacked over your expression. It only seemed to prove his point. 

“Come on, tell me how fucking dead in the head you are” Jim laughed as he tapped his fingers on your skull. 

Your orbs darted around as you tried to read the room, Jim’s expression was so sternly serious that you weren’t even sure what was the right answer. Surprisingly, he was quite patient with your answer, he admired the way your lip trembled and eyes swelled with hesitation. 

“I’m really dumb” you eventually whispered. 

“Keep on going” he exhaled, his hands rubbing against your lower back.

“Jim-” 

“Go on!” Jim hissed and he pulled your body against his, his erection poked against your stomach. 

You whined out, your hips awakened, desperate to hump against him. Sex always took the pain and angst away, it was a blissful distraction, for the both of you. Your thighs squeezed together, you fell to your knees, your hand shot up to rub his bulge and Jim sighed out slowly, his jaw stern and hips poked forward. 

“So fucking dumb, I can’t survive without you” you murmured, your mouth watered up, glistering eyes blinked frequently.  

“I know baby, you’re only good enough to please my cock it seems” Jim chuckled in a demeaning tone as you eagerly unzipped his pants. 

Your mouth felt numb, you were mumbling and humming in agreement, not even really caring about what he was saying anymore. As you pumped his hardening cock, Jim tilted his head at you. You looked at it for permission, after a painful minute, your mouth dripping with saliva, Jim nodded his head for you to continue on. 

Your tongue swirled over his tip, licking up every spec of his precum. A heavy sigh echoed throughout the room as Jim closed his eyes, you took him in your mouth quickly. His shoulders slouched, you were always able to relieve him of his aching body and tormented mind. 

“Such a cock hungry slut” Jim muttered, his hands slipped into your loose hair. 

You moaned around him, a wave of vibrations ran straight down to his base. Your hand massaged his balls gently, his blue eyes fluttered at the stimulation.  

“This is all you’re fucking for aye, worshipping my cock. Fucking waste of oxygen really… Dumb bitches always want dick” Jim mumbled, his lower lip stuck in between his teeth. As you nodded your head in agreement, you could feel your walls squeeze, the thought of jumping onto his cock fueled your energy. “Only good thing about you is how tight your fucking cunt is” he insulted, however it felt like the ultimate praise for you. 

Your head bobbed up and down his length, tongue poked all the way out, just the way that he liked it. Jim gulped down, he watched his tip poking against your cheeks as you hollowed them out. As his eyes rolled back, he grunted roughly. 

“You don’t even deserve to milk my cock with your pussy tonight” Jim spat, the grip in your hair tightened as he roughly tugged at the roots. But your eyes only widened at his comment. “Stupid fucking bitch” he swore harshly. 

You whined around him, when you attempted to pull your mouth off, he held you to his base. It quickly became hard to breath, you pushed against his thighs but his hold remained the same. 

“Oh, did you actually understand what I said?” Jim mocked, a sinister grin on his lips. 

As you nodded your head quickly, Jim chuckled and roughly patted your cheek as his hold finally loosened. 

“Bad, stupid girls don’t get to be fucked senselessly, I’ll fuck you when you figure out some common sense” Jim stated, his tone lacked joke. 

You mewled on his size, tears swelled your swollen eyes. But Jim ignored your muffled pleased and fucked your mouth forcefully. The volume of your gags seemed dangerous, however Jim was too built up to care at the moment. The sounds of his huffs, groans and curses implied how close to the edge he was. As he reached his climax, your nose is forced against his skin, cock pushed to the back of your throat, complete oxygen cut off. You cried out, but forced your mouth to remain open as the warm salty substance shot down your throat. The pats of reassurance to your cheek left a mark.

“Good fucking bitch” Jim praised as he let go of you, you fell onto your ass, gasping out, eyes swollen red. “You’ll continue to suck my cock until you know how to fucking stay in line aye? No touching yourself, no humping my thigh, nothing. Stupid girls don’t get to feel good” Jim made known, zero remorse on his look. 

You heaved out, tears slipped down your cheeks, your throat ached as you tried to swallow down the salty taste. With a smug smirk, Jim tucked himself back into his pants. Jim held out his hand which you reluctantly took. As you’re yanked onto your feet, he crashed his lips onto yours, his arms caged your body in.

[illusioninfnty]

frantic ↠ day 9 ; size difference

↠ jim hopper x reader

fandom: stranger things word count: 780 warnings: nsfw 18+, unprotected sex, rough sex, slapping, cum eating, degradation

kinktober m.list || read on ao3

You could tell that Hopper was stressed just by the way he banged on your door. You took your time to slowly peel yourself from your chair, wanting to tease him just a bit as you knew exactly what it would lead to.

You wrapped your sweater closer to your chest as you creaked the door open, peeking your head out. You craned your neck up to meet his eyes, already heavy with lust. As you took in his appearance, still in his uniform, you saw the frustration building up in his gaze. You smirked and pushed the door fully open, allowing Hopper to push past you.

As soon as you closed and locked the door Hopper grabbed you by the back of your head, forcing it back and he leaned down, covering your lips with his. You gasped into his mouth, not expecting his sudden action.

“Aren’t you going to say hello first?” you asked, pulling away from him when his grip finally loosened up.

He huffed out a small laugh and smirked down at your smaller frame, arms crossed and chin tilted up towards him. “No time for that.” 

He kissed you again and groaned into your lips. “Can’t get enough of you.” His large hands moved to cup your cheeks, engulfing the entire bottom of your face.

You felt the heat rush to your face and pulled away before things got too intense. “Want to move to the bedroom.”

Hopper didn’t budge one bit.

“No. Here.”

Without any warning, he lifted you up with one arm, the other fumbling with the button of your jeans. He ripped them off within seconds, leaving you in just your panties.

“Hop!” you gasped. Chills ran down your spine, from both the sudden chill and the brute strength shown by Hopper.

With his free hand he undid his belt and pulled his massive cock out of his pants. He didn’t even give you a second to prepare before he shoved himself deep inside of you.

“Yeah, that’s it,” Hopper grunted as he pistoned his hips. Your body, completely in his hands, banged against the wall behind you repeatedly. You arched your back, desperate to feel more of him. “Such a little slut,” he hissed. “You like taking my big dick, don’t you?”

He grabbed the flesh or your ass, spanking some as you gasped. Your body was so full from his cock, overloaded by the pleasure.

You were shook out of your stupor by a large hand hitting your face.

“Answer me,” Hopper growled.

“Yes! Yes!” Your mouth was wide open and you could feel drool running down the side. Your eyes rolled back into your head as Hopper continued to push his way inside you.

A harmony of groans were the only sounds that left the two of you for a while, both caught up in the lust of the other. Hopper’s hands dug into the skin of your hips, surely to leave marks for days to come. You could already feel the bruises that were forming on your back from the brunt of Hopper’s thrust.

All of your strength had left your body. The only reason you hadn’t fallen yet was because Hopper held you up. He lifted you so that you had a perfect view of his muscles, clenched tight as he thrusted in and out of you.

His uneven rhythm told you that he was close, and his low grunts of pleasure was what finally sent you over the edge.

Your legs trembled furiously with the force of your orgasm. They dangled in the air, several feet off the ground from Hopper’s hold. You tried to wrap them around his broad frame, but he held you in place with a much greater force than you could fight.

“Fuck!” Heat filled you as Hopper came, thrusting deep into you as you recovered from your own peak. He pulled out, and you watched as his cum dripped down your leg. “There it is, baby.” Hopper scooped some of it in his fingers and brought it up to your face. “Open up.”

You complied easily, four of his fingers stuffing your mouth full. You swirled your tongue all around, as much as you could with your face stuffed. He shoved them in deeper, causing you to gag.

He pulled them out a couple seconds later. You began to cough from the intrusion, drool escaping the corners of your mouth. Your body still shook from pleasure, chest heaving as it grazed the fabric of Hopper’s uniform.

“Hop,” you moaned, “let me down.”

But instead of lowering you, Hopper smirked at you before throwing you over his shoulder with ease.

“Now we can take it to the bedroom.”

[bisexualiteaa]

Them catching you listening to dirty songs 👀

Feat. John "soap" MacTavish, König, Simon "Ghost" Riley

Smutty suggestive themes 18+

John "Soap" MacTavish

Song: Dick by StarBoi3 feat. Doja cat

- You were both on your way to the gym for a good work out, (gym couple goals) when you'd noticed that one of your wireless earbuds had gone missing, but didn't really think anything of it, thinking you must have dropped one on the way out or accidentally left it at home.

- little did you know, Johnny nabbed it when you weren't looking, ever so curious of what you listened to when you were doing your sets and what music motivated you through your workouts.

- he found it rather normal at first, your usual selection of music playing for a bit, so when it played, he was as caught off guard as a deer in headlights. He was weight lifting when he heard the song play, and damn near dropped the weights when he heard it.

- he looked over at you, watching as you worked out your core and legs, mouthing the words as the main chorus hit, hitting your squats to the beat.

"She made some plans on my dick tonight"

"She not with him tonight, she not with Jim tonight"

"She in the gym tonight"

"Workout in that pussy (Ayy)"

"I'm gettin' ripped tonight"

"R.I.P that pussy (Ayy)"

"I'm goin' in tonight"

- his jaw was slack, watching you mouth the words to such a flithy song with a grin on your face, while at the gym of all places, but you were in your own little world.

- when your eyes met his gaze, you were none the wiser, giggling and waving at him happily as he watched you, thinking he was just checking you out or making sure no one was going to try and play moves on you. How could you be so cute and innocent but such a little demon too?

- he definitely needed to steal your earbuds more often, because afterwards, he made sure you made some plans with his dick that night.

König

Song: 34 + 35 by Ariana Grande

- you were all out at the bar drinking together after a rather rough week when the song came on.

- to start, he knew you could sing, you'd been together since before he joined Task Force 141, what he wasn't expecting was you to sing along to a song like this out in public

"Yeah, we started at midnight, go 'til the sunrise"

"Done at the same time"

"But who's counting the time when we got it for life?"

"I know all your favorite spots"

"We can take it from the top"

"You such a dream come true, true"

"Make a bitch wanna hit snooze, ooh"

"Can you stay up all night?"

"Fuck me 'til the daylight"

"34, 35"

"Can you stay up all night?"

"Fuck me 'til the daylight"

"34, 35"

- you sang the whole thing, making the rest of the guys at the table laugh and cheer you on as you sang, seeing as they'd never heard you sing before, let alone a song like this.

- König however? The second he actually added 34 and 35 together in his head, his face burned red, but the fact that you were singing it? Made it so much hotter, and harder to think with the pictures of you doing those things running rampant through his mind.

- "I think that's your que to take her home" Gaz spoke up with a knowing grin, making you chuckle as you watched König sit frozen and looking at you in disbelief.

- you and your comrades took far too much delight in his shy reaction, but when you two made it back home? You both Subtracted the clothes, he divided your legs and helped you add 34+35.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Song: The Summoning by Sleep Token

- you were cooking breakfast when the song came on, usually liking to sing and dance to your music as you cooked.

- Simon was just waking up when he smelled what you were making, and he made it half way down the stairs when your music and the sight of you greeted him.

"Oh, and my love"

"Did I mistake you for a sign from God?"

"Or are you really here to cut me off?"

"Or maybe just to turn me on"

"'Cause these days"

"I would be lying if I told you that"

"I didn't wish that I could be your man"

"Or maybe make a good girl bad"

"I've got a river running right into you"

"I've got a blood trail, red in the blue"

"Something you say or something you do"

"The taste of the divine"

- he recognized it instantly from one of your nights of shared carnal passion, remembering how you melted at the way he moved his hips in time to the beat.

- he quietly treaded the rest of the way downstairs, his one hand wrapping around your throat as the other sat at your hip as he came up to you from behind, taking you off guard. But in the best possible way of course.

- "playing your favorite song, I see?" He asked, making you chuckle as he turned you around and kissed you.

- it wasn't long until breakfast was long forgotten, left to get cold as he bent you over the counter after replaying the song, pistoning his hips into you to the beat.

- and while breakfast may have grown cold, you certainly couldn't have been more of the opposite.

[huggybearluvr]

Luke and y/n being parents and seeing their journey from the start of his UMich career to his NHL career with their daughter...y/n takes their daughter to her first NHL game which was Luke's very first one back in April 2023 where he got the OT goal to win the game

it all led to this | lh43

summary: With Luke's first NHL game coming up, you decide to look back through your old photos with your two year old daughter, Elouise. You couldn't be more excited to take your daughter to the arena tonight to see her dad in his first ever big leagues game.

Masterlist

You sat with your daughter on your lap in your new house. You and Luke had moved to Jersey recently with your daughter so He could be pursue his dreams of being in the NHL.

He had left a couple minutes ago to the arena, you would be leaving in a few hours to go and support him with your daughter.

As you sat with your daughter you decided to relish in the memories that got you to this moment. You opened your phone scrolling back through all the photos of your days back at umich with Luke. You found one of him during his freshman year. It was his first game. You smiled.

"Dada!" Your daughter said excitedly pointing at the picture on your screen.

"Yes, that's Dada," You smiled kissing your daughters head.

You sent the picture to Luke followed by a message

'I am so beyond proud of you, all of this led to this moment and I couldn't imagine doing any of it with anyone else. I love you Luke, and can't wait to watch you tonight!'

After sending the message, you picked up your daughter heading to her room.

You sat her on the changing table, picking out her outfit for the night. You chose her custom Devils jersey that said 'daddy' on the back along with Luke's number.

You then slipped her into some warm fleece leggings, "You look so pretty" you smiled tickling your daughters belly earning a sweet giggle.

"Do you wanna help mama get ready?" You asked sitting your daughter up.

"Ya, I help mama!" She said excitedly throwing herself into your arms.

You gladly picked her up carrying her into your bedroom. You sat her on the bed changing into one of Luke's jersey along with some ripped jeans.

You then sat on the floor, your daughter on your lap as you did your make-up in the mirror.

You smiled as your daughter picked up a brush handing it to you, "Thank you."

You smiled kissing her head, and taking the brush.

Once you finished, you pulled your beanie onto your head and tossed your hair into two looser braids.

You then heard a knock at the door, "Is that your gg and papa?" You asked smiling down at the girl. She stood up from your lap running to the door.

You followed behind her opening the door. To see Ellen and Jim.

"Papa! GG!" Your daughter squealed as Jim picked up the young girl placing her on his hip.

Ellen pulled you into a hug," How have you been?"

"I've been great! the move went perfectly, and Ellie is loving Jersey!"

"Thats so great to hear," Jim added joining the conversation.

"Let me get my bag and then we can head to the arena," You smiled turning to grab the diaper bag and purse from the other room.

-

Once you got to the area, you entered from the back entrance making your way to your seats right on the glass.

You smiled as the announcer called out Luke's name for his Rookie Lap you all cheered.

"Dada!" your daughter squealed, squirming in your arms tapping her small hands against the glass, Luke waved as he skated by.

The rest of the team soon joined them for warm ups.

As the team skated around Luke made his way to the glass infront of you all. Placing his hand on the glass," Hii, sweetheart," Luke smiled at the young girl in your arms.

She reached out placing her hand on the glass," Dada! Dada!" She smiled.

Jack soon skated over too, greeting his beloved niece.

As the game went on your were on the edge of your seat the game was so close.

As the regulation ended your breathe hitched, overtime.

You knew everyone on the team was also on edge.

You watched closely as the starters took to the ice. You breathed in seeing Luke.

As the puck dropped, you watched as it was quickly moved around. You breathe hitched once more once you saw Luke had the puck. He took the shot.

"And Luke Hughes with Debut, and Winning Goal!" The announcer screamed out.

You all stood clapping frantically. Luke was engulfed by the team. You were so happy for him. It all Led to this. The move, the time spent supporting Luke, the lonely nights taking care of your daughter while he was on roadies. It all Led to this.

You smiled making your way to the exit, waiting for Luke. As you saw him and Jack exiting the locker room you smiled.

Luke ran over hugging you both, he took your daughter from your hands with a smile.

"dada!" She smiled placing her hand on his cheek. Look smiled at the girl.

"Luke, that was amazing, I'm so proud of you," You smiled up at your boyfriend.

He leaned down kissing you," I couldn't have done any of this without you.

"unca' 'acky!" Your daughter spoke squirming in Luke's arms towards Jack.

He leaned over taking the young girl," Hii, sweetheart." He smiled tickling her stomach earning a giggle.

Luke smiled wrapping his arm around you.

"What do you all say to a celebratory family dinner?" Ellen asked with a smile on her face.

You all agreed leaving to the cars to head out to dinner.

lukehughes

liked by quinnhughes, yourusernmae, and others

lukehughes So excited to have had my girls at the game tonight, without them and the support of my family I wouldn't have been where I am now. And to my beautiful girlfriend y/n, thank you so much for moving, parenting, and supporting me unconditionally it all led us to this.

view all comments...

y/nhughes Ellie and I are so beyond proud of you Lu! I couldn't imagine a more perfect family!!

lukehughes I love you both so much!

quinnhughes Congrats on the goal bro! So beyond proud of you!

lukehughes Thanks Huggy, means alot!

jackhughes welcome to the big leagues little bro!

nicohischier you keep playing like that and johnny boy is gonna have some competition for the starting line.

lukehughes Oh it's on @johnmarino

njddevils Welcome to the big leagues all three of you! We love having you all apart of the Devils family!!

lukehughes so excited to be here! Thank you for the warm welcome!!

[fairyysoup]

western nights

♫︎ western nights - ethel cain ♫︎

pairing(s): eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: You're on a road trip to nowhere. Eddie wants to get the hell out of dodge. It's a match made in heaven- if only it were, actually, heaven.

words: 13k

cw: explicit, smut, piv sex, oral sex (f + m receiving), exhibitionism, light choking, spitting, eddie is 24, reader's age unspecified (over 21), illegal activities, theft, smoking, alcohol consumption, strangers to lovers, bonnie & clyde type dynamic, mechanic!eddie, eddie's trying hard to be a good boy he's just got issues, pining, perv!reader, some slight dubcon/somno for a sec if you squint, there was only one bed, graphic depictions of violence, a drunk guy being nasty to both eddie and reader, bar fight, blood, arguments, angst, hurt/comfort, panic attacks, an overall janky relationship here, inspired by the song western nights by ethel cain

a/n: *slaps fic* this bad boy can be written with so many cold medicines in my head <3 ethel cain if you see this do NOT interact i have done zero justice to your song and also completely disregarded some key aspects of the themes of it lol this is loosely based at best

ALL MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI

He’s never looked more beautiful on his Harley in the parking lot, breaking into the ATMs, sleeping naked when it gets too hot…

You’ve become something of a connoisseur of gas station coffee. 

You know which chains have the best. Love’s always has the best and freshest, with the most options of flavors. Pilot is usually a crapshoot, depending on what area of the country you’re in. Occasionally, if you can find it, Bodega doesn’t disappoint. And the worst, by far, is always Shell. Shell coffee, you think, must come directly from the sewers of whatever backwater town you’re trundling through.

You’re somewhere in Indiana, you guess, judging by the state-shaped keychains on the rotating rack next to the cash register. You grab a state map from a magazine stand and toss it in with the rest of your purchase. You were lucky to have found a Love’s so you could finally afford yourself some proper dark roast coffee; all the watered down arabica stuff you’ve been getting since Cleveland has only been making your head ache. 

“What’s the quickest way to Indianapolis?” You ask the dead-eyed attendant ringing you up, a 20-something year old guy with bags under his eyes and bad skin. 

He chews his licorice like a camel chews straw, staring up at you blankly. “I dunno. Never been.”

You look from him, to the map, and back. “Cool. What town is this?”

“Hawkins.” His bored-by-you attitude is overwhelming.

“Thanks so much for the help.” You afford the attendant a tight smile as you grab your bag of snacks and head out. It’s going to be a long night. 

The air outside is stifling, summer heat hanging in the muggy air like a fog. The humidity makes your hair stick uncomfortably to the back of your neck as you peel off your old green hunting jacket and tie it around your waist. You’ve parked your van under the fluorescent-lit gas pump overhang, providing the proper lighting for you to spread the map of Indiana across the hood and bend over it, using your full coffee as a paperweight. You rip open the singular Slim-Jim you could afford for dinner, and pore over it.

There’s commotion across the parking lot, which stirs you from your rumination over the map. You glance up; there are two guys loitering by a telephone booth in one corner of the lot, sharing a cigarette. Teenagers who have nowhere else to be on a Friday night, you suppose. Five yards away from them, a third crouches in front of a badly vandalized ATM, the cause of the commotion. He seems to be hacking at the wiring with a pocket knife.

You ignore it. So far, on this trip, you’ve seen far worse than a guy stealing petty cash from a gas station ATM. Tracing your fingers across the paper, it looks like if you take state route 13 to I-69, you’ll be in Indianapolis by midnight. Shouldn’t be too difficult, as long as you can find the 13, and then you can find a place to crash in the city.

Grabbing an old highlighter from your pocket, you mark your route in bright pink. The guy from the ATM seems to have gotten what he wanted, moving quickly across the parking lot with his head held high, like he has every right to be there. He approaches a motorcycle parked on the opposite side of the pump from you, and begins feeding dollar bills into the machine. 

“Hey, do you know how to get to the 13 from here?” You can’t see much more than his leather-clad shoulder and hip jutting out from around the pump, the front tire of his Harley sticking out from behind his leg.

There’s a pause, and then his head pops out from around the pump. A curtain of unruly dark hair frames a long neck, big doe-like eyes and flushed lips pouting at you in confusion. It makes you freeze. “Sorry?”

“I, uh-” What were you trying to do? Get on the right course. Right. Of course. “State- uh- state route 13? I’m trying to get to, um, Indianapolis?” You cringe at your own stuttering, nails digging into the paper before you. 

The man stares at you for a long time, dark eyes framed by thick, curling lashes sizing you up slowly. Then, he rounds the pump. “The highway’s just down the road- keep going west and you won’t miss it.” 

“Great, thanks.” You grab up your coffee and the map, crunching it between your tense fingers. He hasn’t moved, still leaning against the gas pump, arms crossed, staring at you. It makes you nervous, in more ways than one. 

“You won’t get far in that heap, though.”

You pause. Your knees threaten to wobble under you as you look up at him. Your hand is on the door, you could simply ignore him and get in, but something in his gaze makes you stop. Is that… genuine concern? Or is he just putting on a show for you? 

“What do you mean?” The heat of the coffee burns through the paper cup and torches your fingers.

“Well, your fender’s bashed in and, I dunno if you noticed, but you have a crack in your windshield,” he gestures at the long crack running horizontally across the glass, just above where your line of sight usually is. “Probably got a lot more shit wrong with it, too, I could hear you coming a mile up the road. Junkyard find?”

“Something like that.” More like, sat in your parents’ garage for so long that you took a chance on the fucked up radiator and bailed. “She’s good, though. She’ll get me another 80 miles, easy.”

“Are you only going 80 miles?” The guy questions, “Or are you going way past that and only doing the 80 miles tonight?”

If he wasn’t so pretty, with a note of flirtation in his voice, you’d be hesitant as hell to tell him. “The second one.” 

ATM guy sucks on his teeth, rocking back on heels that creak with the movement. Rubber soled work boots flash at you from beneath torn blue denim. “Dunno if I should let you go alone, then. You might bust your carburetor halfway there and be stranded.”

That puts alarm sirens in your head. You’d back away if your car wasn’t situated between the two of you. “Thanks, but, uh… I think I can handle myself.”

The teasing smile drops off his face quickly, replaced by a look of subtle desperation. “No, don’t get me wrong, I’m not- I’m not saying you can’t handle yourself. Obviously. Or you wouldn’t be trucking along by yourself through Nowheresville, Indiana,” he chuckles. “I just, ah… let me level with you?”

Your face screws up, but you lean your hip against the fender nearest you- the one that isn’t fucked up. What is it with this guy?

“I’m trying to jump ship. Anywhere’s better than here, but I really want to get to the west coast. I don’t know where you’re headed, but I’ve got my sights on San Francisco. And, uh, I have experience fixing cars, working in a garage,” he confesses. “But I don’t have a ride of my own- this isn’t even my bike, really. So, if you’re heading to the city, and you could use someone to make sure your car doesn’t kick it going over 75, I’m your man. Besides,” he bats his pretty lashes at you, his fingers fiddling with the end of his long hair as he brandishes a wad of ATM-stolen cash, “I have gas money.”

“You want to hitch a ride with me?”

“If you’re okay with it. Otherwise, I bid you fair and safe travels.” He bows dramatically, throwing his hand in the direction of the highway you’d asked about. “But if you ask me, I think you’d be doing both of us a favor in the long run if you let me come with. Just for insurance, y’know.”

“Insurance?” You parrot incredulously.

“Yeah,” he grins. He has dimples, a wide smile that stretches across his face and makes him even prettier than you can stand to look at directly. “Just insurance. No other reason.”

“Mhm,” you grunt, going over the positives and negatives in your head. 

Positives- your car is a piece of shit and you’re sure he’s right, you’re working on borrowed time and you’re less than halfway to your desired destination. Plus, he’s unfairly nice to look at. 

Negatives- you don’t know shit for fuck about him, other than the fact that he’s apparently trying to leave town and makes a hobby of breaking into ATMs. And, hell, even Ted Bundy was supposed to be charming and cute, at first. This guy could be a crazy ax murderer, could be a rapist, could be a junkie who’ll steal your car and leave you stranded, could be, could be-

“MUNSON!”

“Fuck.” ATM guy glances over his shoulder, then ducks quickly around the side of the gas pump as the station attendant comes storming out of the store. He crouches, pressing his hands to the glass window of the passenger’s side and peers through the cab at you on the other side with pleading eyes. “Can you get me a couple miles down the road, at least?” 

“What about your bike?” 

“Not my bike,” he tells you for a second time. “My buddy’ll pick it up when he hears about this, please.”  

The station attendant is making his way across the parking lot now, looking miffed. It’s clearly the most energy he’s put into anything today, but he isn’t moving very fast. 

You’ve made worse decisions in your life. You sigh. “Shit. Get in.” 

“Thank you, thank you.” He pops open the passengers door as you slide into the driver’s seat, tossing the crumpled up map in the back. You guess you’ve found a GPS, for the time being.

“Does my insurance have a name?” you ask as you peel out of the gas station. The attendant hovers by the pump you’d been occupying, looking lamely at the abandoned motorcycle in your rearview. 

“Eddie,” ATM guy says. A ring-clad hand lifts between you, hovering over the gear shift and waiting for your own to settle into it for a shake, “Eddie Munson.” 

You eye his outstretched hand, your stomach doing flips, but you’re unsure if it’s because of him or the very situation he’s just put you in. You lift your hand and bat his with your knuckles, a half-hearted acknowledgement without the formality. “Pleasure doing business with you, Eddie.” 

Eddie coughs, shifting up in his seat to peer behind you at the station. “Fuckin’ Keith. You can just drop me off at the next exit, it’s no biggie.” 

“Hm? I thought you were coming with me to Indianapolis, hot stuff.” 

Eddie whips his head around to look at you. “Seriously? You don’t- you don’t have to, I know it’s a big ask-” 

“You want me to change my mind?”

“Not particularly.” He sinks down in his seat again. “Guess I figured you think I’m more of a liability than anything.”

“I do, but I need all that cash you swiped from the ATM,” you hum with a snarky grin on your face. 

Eddie chuckles, wringing his hands in his lap. His knuckles tighten and relax beneath heavy steel rings. “Yeah, better I do it than you, huh?” There’s an awkward pause, and then he blurts, “Do you have any road music in this thing?” 

You reach forward and hit the volume button for the stereo. You’d been halfway through Danzig’s self titled album- Mother kicks in with the chorus. In the darkness, you don’t see the way Eddie’s eyes sparkle with adoration as he looks at you.

“I think you and I are gonna get along great, sweetheart.” 

You ignore how your thighs press in on themselves while you sip your coffee, and you turn onto highway 13, headed for Indianapolis.

When you step out of the bathroom in the motel room in Indianapolis, you find Eddie hunched over by the window, wearing nothing but a pair of blue plaid boxers. The chain on his wrist jingles as he smacks at the A/C unit beneath the drawn curtains.

“Everything okay?” You ask, pretty much knowing what the answer is. Your hair drips water down your back, but you can still feel the muggy summer heat in the room practically smothering your pores. 

“Damn Motel 6 A/C,” he grumbles as he gives it one last smack on the side, to no avail. “The unit’s broken, there’s gonna be no cool air in the room.”

“That’s okay, we can crack a window.” 

“In this part of the city?” Eddie scoffs, looking over at you. “Believe me, princess, I applaud your optimism- I would have just driven away from me there at the gas station, given the chance. But if we crack that window, we’re gonna get fucking robbed, first thing. Believe me.”

“I believe you,” you huff, clutching the itchy motel towel to your wet skin. Usually you would just pull on a tank and a pair of panties and call it a night, but there’s no such luck for you here. You have a backpack full of old, dirty clothes, and no clean underwear to speak of- you’ve been washing them in public bathroom sinks since Columbus. “Well, I’m just gonna sleep naked, then. You do what you’ve gotta do.” 

“What- you’re gonna- what?” Eddie blathers, sitting back on his heels. You stare at him for a second- he’s a vision of flushed skin and a cloud of brunette hair cascading over his shoulders. Knobbly knees stick up at awkward angles, hairy thighs disappear into the hem of his boxers drawn tight across his skin. Your eyes glance over the ominous bulge in the crotch of them, not willing to think about those parts of a man you barely know. “You really think- I mean- is that wise?”

“Are you gonna get frisky with me, Eddie?” You ask with a teasing voice. You’d learned enough about him on the way to the city- 24 years old, no prospects, big dreams, ran a D&D club in high school, worked in a garage to help pay the bills- that you’re fairly certain he’s a good enough guy to keep his hands to himself. You just enjoy watching his big eyes go rounder at the insinuation.

“No, of course not. Wouldn’t dream of it.” Eddie looks mortified. He backtracks, “Unless- unless you wanted me to, I mean-” 

“Don’t overanalyze it,” you tell him mildly, turning your back to him to rifle through your bag. “We’re both adults, it’s hot, there’s one bed and we’re both paying for it. Something tells me you’ve done worse things than lay next to someone without clothes on.”

Eddie blows a long breath out of pursed lips, not moving from his seat on the floor. He doesn’t deny your accusation, just mutters, “You put so much faith in me, sweetheart.”

“Don’t make me regret it.” 

You drop the wet towel on the floor and round the bed to turn down the sheets. Eddie’s eyes trail you; you can feel them burning into your skin, lit by the dim yellow light on the bedside table. It takes a moment for him to finally move, a single trembling hand reaching up to swipe a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from the table.

“You gonna sit there on the floor all night?” You muse as you lay back on the bed. It’s too fucking hot. The dampness from the shower hasn’t dried, but now it’s simply growing with the rate your body is perspiring. Your hair and skin stick to the white sheets, which feel pasty each time you move.

“Just getting my bearings,” Eddie says, his voice tight and hollow. “You smoke?”

“Not especially, but I won’t stop you.” 

The smell of tobacco hangs in the heavy air more potently than you expected. The humidity dampens the vapor, making it sting your nose and leech into your mouth, even though you’re not the one directly breathing it. It strikes you as devastatingly intimate- the thought that you might be breathing the smoke that’s already touched his lungs. 

“Do you mind if I strip down, too?” Eddie asks after a long time of deliberating as he smoked. “Not that- I mean, I don’t have any pajamas, so…”

“Do what you need to do, honey,” you murmur, repeating what you’d told him before. “We can find a laundromat in the morning. Maybe get you a change of clothes somewhere.”

“Right.” He doesn’t say much after that, but you listen to him rustling around, stubbing out his cigarette in an ashtray and flicking off the bedside light. 

He straightens up, silhouette looming in the blue-dark from the curtained window. You watch from the corner of your eye while his backlit form hooks its thumbs in the waistband of his boxers, and drops them.

He clambers onto the bed beside you, careful not to bump any part of you. You refuse to look at him, scanning the asbestos popcorn on the ceiling above you with an overabundance of scrutiny, willing yourself to focus on anything but Eddie’s beautiful body, especially what he has below the belt. It’s a bad idea, no go. You don’t want to see it, don’t even want to think about it- what it looks like, how big it is, how it curves, what kind of hair surrounds it, if any-

You’re thinking about it.

And you told him not to overanalyze it. To be calm about it. What a fucking joke.

“You know, I’m not as easy as I might seem,” you blurt out suddenly, unaware of why you even do. You mostly come off sounding like you’re trying to convince yourself of it.

Eddie’s head rustles against the pillow as he glances at you in the dark. “I don’t think you are.”

“Okay. Just- just making sure,” you stutter out. “All evidence to the contrary, and all.”

“I’m not expecting to get lucky with you,” he tells you honestly, a little flatly, like he’s afraid of any inflection in his voice betraying him. “You know, beyond the ride west.”

“Right.” 

“Right.” 

You both regress into silence. You think you’ve both said your piece on the matter. You might not trust Eddie, not entirely, but you at least know he’s not gonna try anything stupid if you let yourself fall asleep. You actually think that he’s asleep after so many minutes, until he opens his mouth again.

“It’s really fucking hot, isn’t it?” He croaks. His hands twitch by his sides, feet jammed under the downturned covers, but everything else bare to the open room, like you. His pinkie brushes yours, and he nearly smacks himself jerking his hand back toward his stomach.

“Yeah, it’s not… it’s not good.” You blink into the darkness. “Sorry, you must be regretting coming with me all this way.”

“Nah, not a chance.” He brushes it off, waving a hand in the air dismissively. “I’ve been itching to get out of there since I graduated. Feel kinda bad that I didn’t leave a note for my uncle, but it’s not the first time I’ve bailed on him. I can always call him from a pay phone. Kinda wish I had my guitar, though.” 

“You play guitar?” you ask dazedly. You don’t have a hard time imagining it, now that you think about it. He has that rocker look about him, the kind that could grace magazines and be on posters on teenage girls’ walls, if he played his cards right. If he got his lucky break.

“Yeah. Pretty good, too, I guess.” He sighs. There’s a wistfulness in it, like he’s reminiscing on something from his past. “It’s okay. I can pick up another one once I get to California. Dropped a mint on the one I had back home, but I guess Wayne can always pawn it. Maybe get himself a nicer place.”

You chuckle. “And you think I’m the optimist here.”

“I never said it was a bad thing,” Eddie scoffs, then deepens his voice quite suddenly. “Two optimists, both alike in dignity-”

A burst of laughter bubbles from your chest, making Eddie grin as you gesture at your bodies. “Or lack, thereof.”

“In fair Indianapolis, where we lay our scene.” He ends his recitation giggling, the flimsy bed frame jolting with the shaking of his chest. “Radiant Juliet, you never did tell me where your chariot is taking me.”

“I’m not sure, really,” you admit, mellowing your laughter into a quiet giggle. “I just wanted to leave home. I was suffocating there, I needed to get out. See what’s out there for me, if anything.”

“And have you seen much?”

“Not much,” you tell him quietly. “Mostly truck stops and shitty roadside attractions. But we’re in the midwest, you know.”

“Don’t remind me.” He lays his hand back down on the mattress beside you. 

You turn your body towards him, damp sheets clinging to your skin as you move. “California might not be such a bad idea.”

Eddie turns his head and glances at you, dark eyes finding you in the dim moonlight. “No? I’ll have to fix your car, then.”

“You do that, and I’ll make sure to get you where you’re going,” you whisper.

“Deal.” His eyes linger on your face, just inches away from his on the pillow. Flickering in the moonlight, two voids that hold all the stars in the night sky seem to take you in like you’re more beautiful than they could ever be.

This time, when your fingers brush, he doesn’t jerk away. This time, you don’t avert your eyes when you look down at his cock, but you sure do regret it when you don’t reach out to touch it.

He’s so pretty. You want to.

I watched him show his love through shades of black and blue, starting fights at the bar across the street like you do…

Your underwear and his come out of the dryer wrapped around each other. You spend a minute disentangling them, a small heap of clothes in a rolling laundry basket in front of you. The closest laundromat to the Motel 6 had been a five minute drive down the street. 

You’d woken up with your head on his chest, your arm draped across his bare stomach, despite how you’d fallen asleep barely touching him. As if your unconscious body had known more about your wants than you. His hand had been tangled in your hair, palm cradling your cheek and a bit of your neck, like his own unconscious wanted to keep you against him, too. 

The morning had been easy- the easiest it’s been since you hit the road. Eddie seems to have given you a sense of purpose you didn’t have before, driving around aimlessly, only stopping for fast food every once in a while when you remembered to eat something other than beef jerky and coffee. Once you had extracted yourself from his grip, you’d gone to buy him clothes from the resale store next to the motel. It wasn’t hard to find a plain black shirt and jeans, but used underwear was something you didn’t want to mess with. You’d brought it back to the motel, along with some food from the Waffle House across the way, and you ate cross legged on the bed while he showered and put on his new-ish clothes.

But now, you can’t stop feeling his hand cradling your head. His hot, sweaty skin against your arm. Your fingernails raking lightly through the trail of hair on his stomach, dragging through his pubic hair, your knuckles just barely brushing up the side of his length- thick, uncut, and so so pretty. Then, stopping nervously when you’d gotten too bold, fingers skimming over sensitive skin too close to his groin, and he’d twitched in his sleep.

You want him. You don’t even know him, and you want him so badly you can feel it even now, an aching blush between your legs turning into a dull throb when you so much as think about him. 

You toss all the freshly washed clothes into a plastic bag that you’d grabbed by the door to the laundromat, and haul it out to your van. He’d told you to meet him at the bar across the street when you were done, since he needed to make a few calls on their payphone- he’d even given you his weathered denim vest before he left.

“For insurance,” he winked. “Uh, don’t wash it, though… I stitched it by hand, it’ll fall apart.”

You don’t put it in with the clean clothes. It smells like smoke and alcohol and him, the edges frayed and yellowing a bit. You hold it in your lap for a second, plucking at the stringy bits around the arm holes. Maybe you can convince him to let you soak it in a sink somewhere, hand washed and dried carefully over a working A/C unit, wherever you can find one. You don’t know when he last washed the damn thing, if ever.

When you pull into the parking lot of the dive bar, and you clutch the denim vest in your hand as you step out of your van, something sharp prods your thumb. You hiss, slamming the car door shut and examining what it was. The sharp point of a pin on the vest- which reads Motörhead- had come loose and pricked your skin, which now threatens to ooze blood all over the aged denim.

“Fuck,” you murmur, bringing your thumb to your mouth as you lock the car. You struggle with the vest while you walk towards the door to the dive, trying to resituate the pin so it doesn’t go missing.

You find him loitering beside a billiards table, pool stick in hand, a cigarette in his mouth. When he sees you walk in, his eyes light up, and he nearly drops the stick prancing over to you. 

“Told ya I’d still be here- hey, you okay?” His grin turns very readily into a frown when he sees you sucking your thumb like a child. 

“Yeah, no, I’m fine,” you mutter clumsily, “your pin just nicked me s’all.” 

“Oh, shit,” he curses, reaching for your hand. “Lemme see- no, let me see.” He forces your hand open when you try to close it, and scrutinizes the little pin prick as if it’s the worst battle wound he’s ever seen. “Should’a checked to make sure all the pins were right, this happens all the time. I’m so sorry, baby, my fault.”

Baby. Your brain tries to process it. He called you baby. 

He’s also kissing your thumb, cradling your hand with excessive care. He’s tasting your blood, sucking a little on the pin prick like you had been, so your skin is wet with a mix of his and your spit. You don’t think you’ll ever get tired of the way he touches you. Fleeting as his touches have been, anyways. You melt a little under his gaze as his round eyes blink up at you innocently.

“S’okay,” you tell him with a wobbly smile. “Did you make your calls?”

He looks at you softly, a reserved smile on his face. “I did. Wayne’s miffed, but he’ll live. Told him I’d send him a postcard.”

You giggle at that, thinking you’d sign it along with him. Sorry for stealing away your nephew; it will happen again. “Good. Buy me a drink, handsome?”

Eddie beams at you, and his dimples crease his cheeks as he turns to the bartender. There’s a sweet, boyish manner in the way he puffs out his chest and orders you a drink, his arm circling your waist as he moves you smoothly toward the bar. As soon as a whisky sour has been placed in front of you, he turns and squeezes your arm.

“Hey, I gotta finish this game,” he nods at the pool table he’d been stationed at. “I got some money on it. Y’okay with hanging out for a minute?” 

“Sure,” you chirp, sipping your drink. “Wipe the floor with ‘em for me?”

“It’s in the bag,” he whispers at you conspiratorially. You push his vest at him, imagining he wants to take his insurance back now that you know he’s not taking off on you, but he shakes his head. “No, you wear it. It’ll look good on you.” 

His eyes light up when you shrug the vest over your worn out white t-shirt. As you lift your drink, and he turns back to his game, you think you’d do anything to keep him looking at you like that.

Eddie wins. You don’t know how much he bet on the game, but there seems to be hurt feelings when he collects the money that had been placed on the table. You’ve never been much of a gambler, and he hadn’t struck you as one- but what do you know? He certainly bet on you getting him out of Hawkins, and you certainly took a chance on him. 

You don’t think much of it. It’s late afternoon- the sun’s going down, and you figure you’d better get going, but Eddie wraps his arms around you and says, “Dance with me.” And you do.

The jukebox in the corner only plays country classics. Patsy Cline croons over the speakers, taking you back to a time in your far off childhood. Eddie sways with you to the music, and even though there’s barely any rhythm to his dancing, you find yourself falling into it with him. Your head on his shoulder, his curly hair tickling the side of your face. His breath on your neck, cool on your heated skin. 

That is, until a hand wraps around Eddie’s shoulder and jerks him away from you. A man with blond hair, clearly a few too many drinks in, snarls at him, “That game was bullshit and you know it.”

Eddie blinks at him. “If by ‘bullshit’ you mean I beat you, then sure.”

“You di’int beat me, you cheated,” the man sneers. “I want my money back.” 

“Yeah, no.” Eddie claps the man on the shoulder, trying to push him away. “I won the game, I get the money. That’s how gambling works.” 

You step back when the man’s beady eyes fall on you, peering at him over Eddie’s shoulder. “What’re you lookin’ at?” 

“You leave her out of this, buddy,” Eddie growls dangerously, still forcing the man back with one strong hand on his shoulder. He’s trying to put himself between you and the man, you know. Still, you feel the need to fist your hand in the back of Eddie’s shirt and pull him away.

“I ain’t your buddy. Whatcha lookin’ at, bitch?” The man reaches out and yanks roughly on your arm, making you yelp in alarm.

And that’s when Eddie’s fist connects with the man’s jaw.

There’s a sickening crack. In the chaos, it somehow occurs to you that Eddie’s wearing all those chunky rings. You wonder if they could be considered a deadly weapon, in the same vein as brass knuckles.

It takes you a second to get through the initial shock, finding it hard to focus on who’s doing what. Eddie and the man have barrelled through a couple of tables, knocking over chairs. Eddie has the man pinned to the edge of the pool table, a flurry of fists moving from all sides. 

“You don’t touch my girl!” Eddie shouts at the man. “You don’t fuckin’ touch my girl!”  

His girl.

They tumble to the floor. The man curses and spits blood at him from a cut lip. A strong fist hits the side of Eddie’s face once, twice-

“THAT’S ENOUGH!” The words are shouted by the bartender, finally intervening, pulling the blond man off of Eddie. As the bartender restrains the unruly man, a second pulls an equally enraged Eddie away from him, separating the two. 

By the time you collect a bruised and bloodied Eddie into your arms, you’ve already tuned out the rest of the ruckus going on around you. Someone suggests that you should leave, but the words only barely register. You’re already pulling Eddie out the door and to the car.

You don’t even remember if you closed the tab.

Trouble’s always gonna find you, baby, but so will I. Crying only because I’m happy, hold me across every state line…

You don’t know when you started crying. Maybe it was around the time that Eddie fell unconscious.

Tears burn in your eyes like you’ve poured gasoline in them, but no matter how badly it stings you just keep sniffling and driving, tearing down the interstate away from Indianapolis, toward St. Louis. You hopped on I-70 as quickly as you could, and from there you’ve been lost in a world of your own.

He’d almost look peaceful, if it wasn’t for the blood on his jaw and the nasty shiner on his cheekbone. You keep telling yourself it’s not bad enough for him to need to be taken to a hospital. You can’t afford to go to a hospital, and even if you could, you’d have to explain how he got in this condition. It’s a recipe for jail time. You know that. You know.  

You just want to keep him safe, that’s all. 

He hadn’t instigated the fight, not really. He’d just swung first. He was just defending you.

His girl.  

When it gets to be too much, you pull over. Headlights gleam bright and then pass by in the dark with a whoosh of air. You think you must have crossed over into Illinois by now, or you’re getting close to it. The traffic has lightened considerably. 

You rest your head against the steering wheel, taking deep breaths, but the tears keep coming in streams. A while ago, you had a mattress in the back of this van. That was before it started having problems, and it sat in your family’s garage for a year and a half. You should have put a mattress in it when you took off, but you weren’t thinking that far ahead. You were having a breakdown, something like you’re having now, only worse. It was a manic, get-away-or-die-there kind of breakdown. 

Breathe in. You’re not gonna die. Breathe out. He’s breathing.

Once Eddie cracks his eyes open, he flexes his jaw with a groan. You can tell he’s confused by the inquisitive noise he makes, but when he looks at you, all that disappears in a heartbeat.

“Hey, what’re you- oh, god. Sweetheart, don’t cry.”  

As if that doesn’t make you want to cry harder. His hand lands tentatively on your shoulder, stiff fingered but light in touch. He shuffles closer to you, pulling you against him to sob into his secondhand shirt. 

It’s pathetic, you’re sure of it. You feel pathetic, twisting the cheap cotton of his shirt in your hands and saturating it with tears, as he shushes you and soothes a hand over your hair.

“It’s okay, baby,” he whispers into your hair, pressing his aching lips to your scalp in an attempt to calm you down. “We’ll be okay. I’m right here. What can I do?”

For some reason, the question makes you mad. “You don’t fucking fight,” you sob at him, the anger in your voice making him freeze. “You don’t- you don’t get into fights. I can deal with a lot of shit, Eddie Munson, but I can’t deal with that.”

“Okay, honey. Okay.”

“No fighting.” 

“No fighting,” he repeats affirmatively, petting your head. Then he adds, “No gambling.”

“No bars.”

“Well-”

“No bars.” 

“All right,” Eddie resigns, resting his chin on top of your head. Once you’ve stopped crying, from what he can feel, he tells you softly, “I’m not… I’m not like that, you know. I want you to know. I don’t fight, not usually.”

“You did.” 

“I did,” he agrees. “I just don’t like… I didn’t like him touching you. Disrespecting you like that- did he hurt you?”

“No,” you lie. The guy had yanked your arm a little too hard, your wrist still smarting a bit. Nothing near what Eddie had taken. “He hurt you, though.”

“I’ve had worse, trust me.” His tone is ominous, like you don’t really want to know the heavy details of it. “I’m not a fighter. Used to be if I saw danger, I’d just turn tail and run. I usually just take shit on the chin. But I never had anything to fight for before, really.”

You sniffle loudly, grossly. “I don’t want you to fight for me.”

“I’m gonna protect you, sweetheart. No matter what,” he insists. “Long as we’re together, I’m gonna do everything I can to protect you. Okay?”

Long as we’re together. Like you’re a couple, like you didn’t just meet by chance at a gas station a little more than 24 hours ago. Like you’re in love. 

His girl.  

“My dad’s in prison,” Eddie blurts out, raking a shaky hand through your hair. “He, uh… he was a fighter. And a thief. And a gambler. And a liar. He tried his best to make me be like him, but I don’t- I don’t wanna be like him.” Eddie sighs, a sad sound that rips through your already bleeding heart. “I thought maybe getting out of Hawkins would set me straight. Finally give me a chance to make something better of myself, prove I’m not like my old man. I tried, but after high school I got in some trouble, and Wayne had to sell my old van to pay for my bail. Now I’m here, and… Guess you just take yourself wherever you go, huh?” 

“Yeah,” you agree. Your fingers curve against his hip, squeezing the skin there. “So we have to try to change ourselves in the meantime, while we get where we’re going.”

Eddie breathes in, and it sounds an awful lot like a sniffle.

“Eddie. Are you crying?”

“No.” He is.

You lift your head with a wet, coughing chuckle at his futile attempt to hide it. You look up at him, your fingers tucking a lock of unruly, dark hair behind his ear. He’s staring back at you with glassy eyes, the tip of his nose gone red with the tears he’s holding back. He just barely flinches when your knuckles brush the bruise on his cheekbone.

“Hey, handsome,” you coo at him softly, your touch featherlight on his skin. He blinks, a tear dropping from his lashes. “I’m gonna get you cleaned up, okay?” 

“Okay.” His lip wobbles. “Let me hold you a little longer, first?”

“Of course, Eddie.” You fall into his grasping hands, yanking you to him like a child searching for the comfort of his favorite teddy bear. You’d let him hold you as long as he liked.

You wash his face in a dirty rest area just west of Terre Haute. In the middle of the night, no one is around to tell you not to, so you follow him into the men’s room and take your time wiping the blood from his jaw and his hands. You gingerly apply a bandage from your car’s console to his bruised cheek, while he sits in the front seat and brackets your hips with his knees.

He gazes up at you like a man seeing God.

The neighbors beat on the walls, while I'm face first in the bed. Show me how much I mean to you while I’m lying in these sheets undressed…

You sleep in the rest area that night, in the back of your van. No mattress, just your backs to the hard floor of the cab. With no A/C again, you shuck your clothes and spread a single white blanket over your bodies, more for modesty’s sake than anything else. Even though it’s unlikely that a cop is going to run you down in the middle of nowhere, you’d rather not get cited for public indecency. 

He holds you all night long, his arms around you and his chest against your back giving you peace, but he doesn’t touch you in any of the ways that you desperately want him to.

It takes the better part of a day to drive to St. Louis. Eddie swallows a couple tylenol for his face with his truck stop coffee and eggs, smiling softly at you from across a bright yellow plywood table in a cafeteria. From the look on his face, you doubt that he regrets the fight that gave him his wounds.

By the time your old van rattles up to another Motel 6 at the outskirts of the city, Eddie’s shaking his head. “The car’s not gonna take much more than this. I need to give it a good look, maybe borrow a tool kit and give it a tune up.”

“Whatever you say, magic man,” you muse at him. “Let’s just sleep in a real bed tonight, huh?”

His head tilted back, he looks at you sideways with a lopsided smile. You can tell his face is still hurting, but he puts on a brave face and bats his eyelashes at you. “Sounds good to me, princess.”

His touch lingers on you more, now, than it did yesterday. His fingers grazing your forearm as you open the glass door to the motel office, his hand hovering over your lower back as you sign for the room. His arm slung over your shoulder as he follows you down to the room, twirling the key around his finger. 

“You think the A/C will work this time?” He asks you lightheartedly as he turns the key in the lock.

“Only one way to find out,” you return with the same warmth in your voice. If you from two days ago could hear yourself, and that ooey-gooey note of lovesickness in your voice, your past self might keel over and die. When did this happen? 

You drop your bag of clothes on the bench by the bathroom door. Eddie bangs around the A/C unit a bit, until something starts whirring, and he makes a gleeful noise.

“It’s aliiiiive!” He announces dramatically, emulating Dr. Frankenstein. You giggle as he leaps toward you, practically throwing you onto the bed in excitement. “We have cool air. We can actually wear clothes to bed tonight.”

“Yeah,” you sigh, not even trying to hide your disappointment at the thought. The best part of your last two mornings has been waking up to his naked body beside yours, warm and soft and littered with tattoos that you just can’t stop looking at. 

You mean, I won’t get to wake up to your skin on mine tomorrow? I won’t be able to pretend like I’m not staring at your dick and imagining all the things I want to do to it? How will I be able to admire you for my own perverted gain?

You don’t even realize that you’re stroking your fingers across his bruised cheek until he leans into your touch. Then you take inventory of your current position- your back to the mattress, his body hovering over you, half covering you. Caging you in with his arms. His long hair creates a veil around your faces. 

When he blinks his eyes open at you, you can tell where his mind is before he opens his mouth. “Did we have our first fight yesterday?”

You frown, a puff of air exiting your nose. “No, I think I’d call it laying ground rules.”  

“Ground rules,” Eddie nods, his sore cheek rubbing against your hand. You’re starting to wonder if he likes the pain, since he won’t stop pushing into it. “I’m not great at remembering rules. What were they, again?”

“No fighting.”

“Right, and no gambling.”

“No bars.”

He squints. “Is that one still up for negotiation, or…?” He trails off, giggling as you smack your hand lightly against his shoulder. “Kidding! I’m kidding. No bars. Got it.” 

“And that was it,” you tell him sweetly. “Unless there was another one you wanted to add?”

He stares at you for a long moment, his fingers twirling in the hair right beside your ear as he gets lost in thought. Say what you’re thinking, your mind practically screams at him. Please, god, say what we’re both thinking…

Eddie licks his lips and finally says, “No sleeping with clothes on?”

Gotcha. A creeping smile stretches your face, trying to play coy even when your heart’s beating a mile a minute. Eddie’s eyebrows raise at you, waiting for an answer. 

“I’m not easy, Eddie.”

“I know,” he tells you, mirroring your smile. “I don’t expect to get lucky with you.”

“I know,” you hum. Your hand drifts up the side of his torso, a more firm and languorous touch than you’d previously been brave enough to give him. “But do you want to?”

Eddie shudders, and it’s the first honest to god evidence you have that you turn him on as much as he does you. The realization feels rapturous. 

“God, yes.”

He kisses you then, open-mouthed and passionate, his hand cupping your jaw to keep you where he wants you. Your nails scratch up his back with a loud tearing sound against his shirt, and he chuckles as you frantically clutch at him with all your strength. 

“I know, pretty girl,” he murmurs, pecking your lips briefly before descending to bite at your jaw. “You’ve been wanting this since that first night. Feelin’ me up in the morning, like I wouldn’t notice…”

“I didn’t wanna wake you,” you hiccup as his hand cups the crotch of your jeans, rocking the meat of his palm firmly where you’re dying for friction. “Oh, ffffuck Eddie, m’sorry…”

“And here you were, thinking I was the pervert,” he grunts. “‘Least I can keep my hands to myself, hm?”

“I’m sorry, I’m s-sorry,” you babble at him, hands shaking as they grip onto his shoulders. Now that the aching throb between your legs is back, and he’s finally giving it attention, you can’t seem to come up with a more coherent sentence. Your face grows hot, but not at the fact that you’d been caught in your lechery- just because he turns you on more than you can think to admit.

“Don’t be sorry, sweet thing,” Eddie whispers. His dark eyes are lined up with yours, the curtain of his hair shielding them from reflecting any of the light from the desk lamp- it’s just you and the starry voids of space, locked in your own little world. He rubs his hand back and forth with practiced pressure against the front of your jeans, your hips kicking up against him. “I want you to touch me. Want you to do whatever you want with me, baby.” 

“Whatever I want?” Your fingers dragging up his lower back, under his shirt to feel the heat of his skin.

“Anything,” he insists, kissing you again. Wet and sloppy, teeth clacking as you grind up into his palm. Your thick denim jeans are about the most abominable things that have ever existed.

You feel like your head’s on sideways with how pent up you already are. “I want you to fuck me Eddie- jesus chr- can we do that? Right now? Please?” 

Eddie laughs. A happy, whole-hearted, almost disbelieving laugh. “Thought I was gonna be the one begging you, after all this…” His breath hitches, the touch of his hand leaving you so that he can push himself back. “Lemme get you out of these clothes, yeah?”

You nod quickly, earning a pleased hum from him. The way he undresses you is touched by reverence; his fingers slow as they drag the cotton of your shirt over your head, grazing your skin all the way. His lips dancing across your collarbone as he undoes the front of your stupid fucking jeans. You just want them off, done with and laying in a pile to be forgotten about by the motel room door, but Eddie has other plans. 

“Slow.” He grabs your hip to stop your wiggling, fingers curled around the back of the waistband of them as he pulls the denim down your thighs. “We’ve got all night, baby. I’m not leaving. Not going anywhere.” 

“I want you,” you insist desperately, sounding like a broken record. Your distress is evident on your face, in the way you clench your thighs together to hide the obnoxious wet spot growing on your cotton panties. You wonder if he’d felt it when he was touching you over your jeans, if the heat and dampness had soaked through the denim as well. You wouldn’t be surprised.

“You have me, sweetheart,” Eddie ensures. “Don’t… I don’t want you to worry about it. M’gonna make sure there are no worries in that pretty head.” 

He yanks his t-shirt off, the one you’d bought him from the resale store. A cloud of frizzy, dark hair obscures his pretty face for half a second, the shirt landing on the floor somewhere off to the side, and then Eddie’s eyes find you again, grinning at you widely with pointed teeth.

You grab for him, your fingers looping around the chain that hangs from his neck. Tugging him down, you press a gentle kiss to his lips. Then to his sore jaw, where a tiny scab has formed on the right side of his chin. Then to his bruised cheek, where he flutters his eyes shut and groans softly at the brush of your lips. 

“My boy,” you whisper to him, and you don’t even know if he understands the significance of it to you. His girl. Your boy.  

Eddie smiles against your skin. He peppers kisses everywhere he can reach, down onto your chest, dragging his sharp teeth every once in a while just to hear you keen. You’re certain you’ve ruined your underwear now, feeling the wetness grow cool against your skin. 

What a fucking concept. Cool air. 

Eddie seems to have the same thought as you, as he slips his fingers beneath the white cotton and peels them down your legs. Strings of your arousal stick to the wet fabric, dropping off in thick tendrils onto the sheets below you as he groans lowly.

“Fuck,” Eddie curses, shaking his head in chastisement as he settles between your legs at the end of the bed. He tsks, “Just look at you, poor thing. Should’a said something to me, can’t have you going around like this.”

You shiver as he trails his mouth up the inside of your thigh. His day-old stubble scrapes your sensitive skin, making you break out in a cold sweat. “M’not- I didn’t want you to think-”

“That you’re easy?” He coos with a condescending smile. “No, honey. I know, you’re a good girl.” He nips at the widest part of your thigh, plush flesh indenting with the imprint of his teeth. “But I’m no good. You should know that, better than anyone. No good for you.”

Eddie’s tongue burns and soothes at the same time, leaving your brain a scrambled mess on the mattress beneath you. He gathers all of your collected arousal into his mouth, groaning like he’s been desperate to taste it all this time. “Been dreaming of this since I saw you, pretty girl.” 

Pulling your leg over his bare shoulder, he all but crushes you against his face, his sturdy hands wrapped around your hips to hold you still. Your back arched, your hips fully off the bed as he lifts your lower half into the air.

You choke out the first part of his name, your hands fisting in the comforter next to your head. There’s a twist of pleasure deep in your core that makes you whine far louder than necessary, a waterfall of words spilling from you before you can stop them, “Oh shit- Ed- I don’t- s’too good-”

“Too good?” Eddie snickers, eyes bright as he watches you from between your thighs. “Nothing's too good for you.” 

Then he spits onto your already soaked and swollen pussy. You sob, positively crying from the feeling of it, drenched and dripping along your sensitive flesh. Eddie spreads the wetness around with his tongue, and your cunt clamps down hard at the lewd squelch of it, the mortifying slurp of his lips closing down and sucking on your labia. 

“Oh fuck, what the fuck-” you whimper high to the ceiling, mouth hanging open in shock. 

You could have been doing this for days. He could have fucked you like this the first night, when you lay next to him, naked in the dark. Your body aches at the thought of being deprived of this longer than necessary.

“That’s it, baby, just stay still. Let me ruin you, huh?” Eddie murmurs, letting your thigh rest heavy on his shoulder so that he can move one hand, his thumb rubbing tight circles on your clit in front of his face. He watches your cunt glisten and throb for him, listening to your desperate sobs echo through the otherwise silent room, and whispers, “Shit. Like my own little fuckin’ pornstar, sweetheart.” 

Normally, you wouldn’t exactly take that as a compliment- but with the way he says it, with his voice thick and dark like that, and with the way the hot, slick velvet of his tongue dips into your channel and shoots electricity along your skin, you figure he must have meant it like one. 

He goes slow, thrusting into you gently, taking his time to get familiar between your legs. Still, it doesn’t stop you from positively shrieking toward the ceiling when he licks you from hole to clit, the entire expanse of his tongue sweeping along nerve endings that are charged like live wires. 

Eddie chuckles, hot breath spilling out over your feverish skin, and he pauses there. Lets you feel the warm press of his flattened tongue before he just barely rubs it back and forth, back and forth-

“Eddie-!?” You gasp, an erotically loud moan spilling out of your mouth right before you come all over his. You crumble, your hips threatening to buck out of his steady grip as searing euphoria rips through you. He scrambles, ringed fingers locking tight enough on your waist to bruise, keeping you against him as you thrash wildly. 

He keeps you like that for a long time, purring into your spasming pussy while an array of unhinged noises pour from your body- your mouth, your hands tearing at the sheets and at your head, your cunt and all its wet filth drenching Eddie’s bruised face. 

If it hurts him, he doesn’t let on. He just keeps going, and going.

Until something pounds against the wall behind your head. You hiccup, your dazed, post-orgasm brain unable to comprehend where the sound is coming from. That wasn’t- couldn’t have been me…

“Pretty sounds,” Eddie giggles as he finally pulls his mouth away from you. “Guess the neighbors agree.”

“Oh, god.” Your hands cover your face, hot and sticky with sweat. Your eyes feel heavy, fuck-drunk, your heart still pounding in your chest from the adrenaline of the orgasm Eddie gave you. You feel embarrassed, like you ought to be going over to apologize to whatever sorry person happens to be sharing a wall with you, now.

Eddie has other plans. “Think we should give the audience a good show, huh?”

It’s merely a suggestion- you know that you could always find a way to quiet yourself, stuff your mouth with cotton and stifle your moans- but the implication of it makes your toes curl. Your breath rattles in your chest when you inhale. “You… you want everyone in the building to hear you fucking me?”

Eddie crowds you on the bed, your legs still slung over his shoulders so that you’re bent nearly in half. He’s still too fucking clothed for your liking- his leather belt digs into the back of your thighs as he presses a sloppy kiss to your dry lips. “I want everyone here to know you’re mine, sweetheart.”

Your hands cradle his face, pulling him in for a deeper kiss as he slowly lowers your legs from his shoulders. Your over extended legs flop down onto the mattress, and you whine into his mouth as he massages his tongue with yours.

“I’m yours, Eddie,” you moan against his damp skin. “Oh god, I want it- want everyone to know.”

You take the initiative, with one last kiss turning in his grip. His hand slips, catching himself from toppling off the bed as you scoot onto your stomach, your knees planting on the mattress so that you can wiggle your hips up at him. 

Eddie sucks in a sharp breath, smoothing a gentle palm over your ass before he kisses your lower back. He pauses, drawing soft kisses up your spine until his breath sweeps your shoulder blade. “You’re so beautiful. How’d I get so fucking lucky?”

A quiet keen is the only answer you give him, shoving your hips backward to get him to just fucking touch you, but he pulls away too quickly. There’s the clink of a belt buckle, a zipper being pulled, and you tense, your hand closing into a fist around the pillow at the head of the bed. Following the rustle of clothes, you hear the crinkle of a condom wrapper- you hadn’t even realized he had one. It didn’t even occur to you, in your dizzying need to fuck him, like some loveblind idiot.

You almost berate yourself for it, but then you feel his cock press against your entrance, and all those thoughts die away. He rolls his hips, and every single muscle in you tightens.

Eddie chokes on air as pleasure positively tears through you. Your eyes roll back, your mouth wide open and threatening to drool onto the pillow you’ve been shoved face-first into. 

“F-fuck, you’re so big.” It’s the only thing you can choke out around moans. He splits you so wide, dragging through your slick walls that are still so sensitive from your first orgasm. 

“Holy shi- oh my god-” he gasps behind you. “M’so sorry- I can’t- Feels so fucking good-”  

You groan, unable to form words to adequately answer him. All you can manage to do is jam your hips backward in an attempt to get him deeper, as far as he can fucking go inside you. Your body blazes, everything coming up smelling of sex and sweat as you wail hopelessly into the pillow.

Eddie snarls, a deep and dangerous noise in the back of his throat as he draws his hips back and presses into you again. There’s no time for you to adjust, each thrust a little more forceful than the last. His cock hits sharp heaven deep inside you, punching loud and guttural moans from you each time his hips impact your ass. 

“That’s a good girl- so ffffucking wet, goddamnit,” Eddie praises you through clenched teeth, ringed fingers and bruised knuckles wrapping loosely around your neck to lift your head from the pillow. “Let them hear all those pretty noises for me, baby.”

“Eddie…” You hiccup, your voice kicked up into a shrill whine. You swallow against the press of his fingers on your throat, holding your jaw into the air so there’s no place for your sounds to go but to the wall and through it. 

Above your head, the banging on the wall starts back up. Eddie drops your chin and slams his hand on top of the headboard, gripping tightly at plywood that threatens to hit the wall as he ruts into you. Your face hits the pillow again, but your sobbing moans still come out loud and disruptive as Eddie speeds up his hips in retaliation. 

“Doing so good f’me. Feel me, princess? So fucking deep,” Eddie groans. His cock licks up a sweet heat inside of you, and you know you’re going to come. He curses lowly, his hips pistoning into yours hard enough that you have to smack your hand into the headboard to keep from knocking into it. “Taking me so well. So perfect- s’like you were made for me, I know it, I just fucking know it…”

Eddie’s arm wraps around your waist from behind, and he hauls your back into his sweat-slick chest. You almost feel weightless, for a moment, before you’re settled back into his lap, your thighs bracketing his as he kneels beneath you, clutching you against him. 

A gasp tears from your mouth with a loud, “Shit!” His cock hits a different spot inside you, bursting color behind your closed eyelids as you throw your head back against his shoulder.

Eddie’s breath fans across your neck, sweat-damp hair tickling the side of your face. His hand greedily palms at your breasts, bouncing you in his lap as his tongue traces a wet line along your shoulder. 

“Just know you were made for me,” Eddie repeats quietly in your ear, his breath feeling like flames on your neck. “That’s why you found me, baby. You were meant to be mine, my girl.”

His girl.

“Yours, Eddie,” you blubber, reaching back to dig a fist into his hair as his hands squeeze your breasts. “M’all yours.”

“Yeah?” Eddie murmurs, his voice saccharine and velvety. He moans in your ear when your cunt clenches down, a threatening throb at the outskirts of your orgasm. “Say it again.”

A whimper, high and needy in your throat. “I’m yours. Your girl- oh, f-fuck, Eddie- I’m gonna-” 

“That’s right. My good girl. Only easy when it comes to me, right?” 

Eddie’s hand drags purposefully down, fingernails dragging just through your pubic hair, just barely grazing where you want him- just like you did to him, that first morning. The realization makes you seize up, all tense from head to toe. 

“What’s it like, when I do it to you? You like it?” He whispers, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. You suck in a sharp breath, a hiss through your teeth as you nod. His laugh is barely a ghost of a breath on your skin. “Yeah. I did, too.”

Eddie’s voice in your ear says, “Come for me,” and not even a fraction of you would deny him that.

His finger drags slowly your clit, calloused skin catching on the swollen bud, and you come. Your body slumps against him, and you’re so grateful for his arms around you to hold you through it. You’d swear he was splitting you in half with the sounds coming from your mouth. Your head tilted back on his shoulder, every breath is punctuated by a hoarse cry that breaks in your throat. Your hand clamps around his arm, which is still cradling you close to his chest as his own moans ring in your ear, his hips driving up into you as your cunt pulses around his cock. You know that he comes when his teeth wrap around the muscle of your shoulder and bite down.

Silence settles over your sweaty bodies, but thunderous banging is still furiously happening on the other side of the wall. You hear voices, words too muffled by the drywall to be intelligible, but they still sound angry.

Eddie won’t let you go, not yet. He’s clutching you, his mouth still wrapped around your shoulder, even though his teeth aren’t biting anymore. You pet his forearm, and lean forward just enough to knock lightly on the wall.

“We’re done!” Your voice cracks with the effort it takes to call out to the people on the other side.

“Fantastic show, my love. I think we deserve five stars.” Eddie laughs, nuzzling his face into your neck as he finally releases your shoulder from the trappings of his jaw. “I think I’m corrupting you, sweetheart.”

You hum, still petting his arm. “I think you already have, teddy.” 

Eddie freezes, his grip on your waist tightening just a little. “No one’s called me that since I was a kid.”

“What, teddy?” He nods. Your fingernails drag dully down his arm, tracing over a tattoo of a swarm of bats, which breaks out in goosebumps under your touch. “Is that… Can I call you that?”

“Yeah,” he rasps. “Yeah, you can- you can call me teddy.”

It’s quiet after that. He rocks you in his arms until you kiss his knuckles and lift yourself gingerly from his lap, earning a pacified grunt from him as his softened cock slides out of you. You watch him as he ties off the condom and tosses it in the wastebasket a few feet away, then flops backward onto the bed so that his head hits the pillows. 

You chuckle, sliding forward to run your hands along his stomach. “Honey, you still have your pants on.”

He hadn’t taken them completely off, only pushed them down far enough to free his cock and have at you. What’s more, he still has his boots on, too- big, black motorcycle things that nearly hang off the end of the bed. 

Eddie grunts dismissively. “C’n deal with it in the morning.”

“No sleeping with clothes on.”

He huffs petulantly, but the scowl he tries to give you turns into a lovesick grin pretty quick. He tucks his hand behind his head in mock-nonchalance. “Hey, pretty lady. You come here often?”

“Once or twice, so far.” You grin at him as he laughs, rolling your eyes as you move down the bed to finish undressing him. You untie his boots and let them fall with his jeans and boxers onto the floor at the end of the bed, glancing up at him once you’re finished.

His eyes are closed. You don’t think he’s sleeping yet, but he’s flushed, covered in sweat. He’s still so much of an enigma to you, but you adore him. You’re enamored with him. 

You crawl slowly up the length of his body, feline-like in your movements. You appraise his tattoos, smoothing your hands over them as you go. You lean down and press featherlight kisses across his beautiful, bruised face. 

Eddie cracks his eyes open at you with an inquisitive smirk, just barely puckering his lips to kiss you back when you land one on them. “Feeling me up again, sweetheart?” 

You hum, kissing his chest. “You’re hot.” It’s the only explanation you afford him. And once he’s shut his eyes again, you carefully move down his body, peppering kisses across his naked torso.

“What’re you-?” He twitches when you drag your tongue over his cock, still wet and salty with his cum. He groans as you slowly lift it, suckling on the head gently. “Oh… Sweetheart, m’not… I don’t think I can-”

“I’m just cleaning you up, teddy,” you tell him gently. “S’okay. You can go to sleep.”

He hums tiredly, his hand lifting to run through your hair, stroking tenderly against the back of your head. “My girl just can’t keep her hands off, huh?”

“Not a chance,” you tell him, giving him another slow lick. “You’re just too fucking pretty, Eds.”

“And you’re too fuckin’ perfect.” Eddie only really falls asleep after he comes again.

I’m never gonna leave you, baby, even if you lose what’s left of your mind…

A few days later, the car breaks down in Colorado Springs.

It had been acting up for a while, of course. Even though you enjoyed watching Eddie when he was bent over the open hood, bare arms sweaty and streaked with grease in the afternoon heat, you knew it ultimately wasn’t going to end well. 

Each time Eddie tinkered with it, more and more concerning things came to light. “One of your cylinders misfired,” he said one time, shaking his head. He’d insisted on driving it from that point on. Another, “The fucking spark plug has gone out. We have to get a new one.” That was $75 you didn’t have to spare.

You guess the car had just fucking had it when you got to Colorado. You went to start it up at a truck stop, and the whole thing just sputtered and coughed at you, and then you didn’t have an engine anymore.

After Eddie paced around and cursed about it for a couple minutes, you both crawled into the back of the van and locked the door. And now you sit cross-legged across from each other, with everything of value that you have to your name in a little pile in front of you.

When you left home, you’d saved up a couple thousand to live off of until you got somewhere you felt comfortable working and living in. Since then, you’ve squandered it on food and motels and gas, never staying put and now rambling along with Eddie.

From the ATM, Eddie had stolen around two thousand dollars. He’s in the same boat as you, now looking at only a couple hundred in between the two of you. Hardly enough to afford a hotel room or bus fare for the both of you. Certainly not enough to get you a new car, or even rent one.

He scrubs his hands down his face, dirty fingernails pressing into his skin. “You should take it.”

“What?” You squint at him. 

“There’s enough here for bus fare for you, at least,” Eddie murmurs, his fingers poking at the pile and scooting it toward you. “Getcha where you want to go. Get a nice job at a tourist shop in Vegas or Santa Monica or something.”

“Are you fucking kidding me, Eddie?” you snap. You swat his hand away from the pile, looking affronted. “I’m not taking the money, so cut it out. We’ll figure something else out.”

Eddie shakes his head, like he’s already made up his mind. “We had a deal. I fix your car, you take me with you. And I didn’t fix your car.”

“Yeah, but that was before…” you trail off, scrutinizing his expression. He won’t meet your gaze. He won’t look at you. 

Eddie’s mouth opens and closes like he’s a fish out of water. Then, he says bitingly, “Before we fucked?” 

You can feel all the emotion drain from your face, leaving you a blank, hollow screen with dead eyes just staring at him. It’s your best defense against bursting into tears at the very tone of his voice. 

When he glances at you, you can tell that he wants to take it back immediately. His teeth worry his bottom lip, ripping at chapped shreds of skin. “Don’t do me any favors, sweetheart.”

“It’s not a fucking favor- I thought we were doing this together.”

Eddie talks over you. “You don’t need to keep dragging me around with you, okay? You’re off the hook.”

“Eddie, you’re being mean,” you croak at him. Not exactly the quick, biting wit that you can usually whip out- he’s shocked you.

He drops his eyes, his hands squeezing his knees. “Yeeeah,” he grumbles, his fingers tapping sporadically against his denim jeans. “Well, I told you, I’m no good for you. You didn’t listen.”

You told me that while your tongue was in my pussy. The words are balanced on the edge of your teeth, but they won’t fall out. Your hands itch to reach out for him, grab his chin and force him to look at you, somehow. 

Instead, they snatch up the little bit of cash from your side of the pile in between you. You crumple it in your hand and shove the wad into your jacket pocket before you grab the strap of your weather-beaten backpack full of the last things you have to your name, and kick open the back door of the van. 

It’s summer, but it’s windy in Colorado. It must be something about the mountains, you guess, and it being early morning. Condensation hangs in the air, making the air both heavy and cool as you breathe. Funny- if you slept naked, you’d probably have to curl up into each other for warmth, for a change. 

You’re either vibrating from rage or from the abnormal chill in the air. Standing on the street corner with the gas station sign lit up in neon behind you, you kick the crosswalk pole with your dirty converse. You’re still arguing with him, in your head. We were in this together, motherfucker. I told you, I’m your girl. I put all my eggs in your basket. Whatever fucking martyr complex this is, you can shove it right up your stupid-

“I know.” Eddie’s tattooed arms wrap around your waist and pull you into his chest, his face buried in your hair as he whispers urgently into it. “I know, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

So, you weren’t arguing with him in your head. You were actually yelling everything you were thinking, and he chased you as you stormed off. Seems about par for the course. 

“Fuck you, Eddie, did it even mean anything to you?” you blather at him, your voice thick with impending tears. “‘Cause it meant something to me.”

“Course it did,” he rasps at you, his arms squeezing you to him so tight that you’re running out of air to breathe. “I didn’t- I was being shitty. I’m sorry. Please, don’t leave.”

“Then don’t push me away.” The tears collect in your lashes, finally dripping down your cheeks. You turn in his arms and whack your hand flat against his chest. “Don’t treat me like some slut, don’t- I didn’t sleep with you just because I wanted you to fix my fucking car, you jerk.”

“I don’t think that,” Eddie insists quietly, wiping your tears away with his thumbs. “C’mon, now.”

“You said-”

“I know what I said,” he cuts you off. “And I didn’t mean it. I have a bad habit of throwing away the good things in my life, ‘cause… ‘cause of that martyr complex, you said-” He jams his tongue against the roof of his mouth when you hiccup, staring up at him with a wobbly lip. “Don’t let me throw you away. You’re the best thing I’ve ever had, ‘n I don’t wanna lose you just because I’m an idiot.”

You sigh, your head falling neatly into the crook of his neck like it’s meant to be there. He’s too quiet, holding you against him at the street corner. Eddie breathes in deep and kisses the side of your head longingly. 

“I can get us a car.”

You lift your head to look at him. He wears a disappointed expression. “But we don’t have any money.”

“It won’t take money,” Eddie mumbles as he strokes your back. “I, uh… I didn’t want to end up like my old man, but…” he shrugs, his eyes cast away from you. He chuckles sadly. “Nothin’ I can do about that, now, I guess. I mean, look how you met me.” 

Oh. You can infer what he means by the far-off look on his face, like he’s resigned himself to his fate. You lift your hands to cradle his face; the bruise on his cheekbone has faded to yellow, the scab on his chin almost healed. He’s never looked more beautiful to you.

“You’re a good man, Eddie,” you tell him sternly.

Eddie’s smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Don’t be too sure of that. You might change your mind.”

‘Cause you know I’ll be right there beside you, riding through all these western nights…

The sedan isn’t exactly flashy, or new. It’s a tin can on wheels that’ll crumble into bits if you so much as side-swipe a trash can. You keep a lookout as Eddie jimmies an unwound wire coat hanger between the glass window and the door, and a second later the door is unlocked.

You’re unnervingly calm. How did you get to be so calm about all this? Stealing money, driving getaway cars, stealing other cars when those ones don’t work. Suddenly an accomplice to whatever illegal shit has to happen for you to get where you’re going.

What’s worse, you think, is how badly the sight of him hotwiring the car turns you on. It’s practically horrifying the way your skin crawls and your core burns as you watch his hands fiddle with the wires beneath the console, so quick that your mind can barely process it. You’re not sure if the adrenaline in your veins is from looking to see if anyone’s coming, or if it’s because you want to jump his bones.

"I swear to you," he's saying as he swipes at frayed wires, "I swear, when we get to San Francisco, I'll never- I'm gonna get an honest, real fuckin' job, I'm not gonna do anything to hurt yo-"

The car starts, and you leap into the front seat without giving it any more thought. “Eddie?”

“Yeah, sweetheart?” He looks up at you, his brows tilted up expectantly. He’s still tucking wires back under the dashboard, preparing to take off once he gets the door shut.

“I slept with you because I’m falling in love with you.”

Eddie’s eyes go wide as moons, glittering in the light of a fluorescent floodlight at the corner of the dark parking lot. 

“You don’t have to love me back,” you tell him honestly. “I just wanted you to know. I’m with you. And I’m not gonna leave.”

You don’t know if he loves you back- not yet, anyways. He doesn’t say it to you. But he kisses you like he does.

I'll be screaming your name past the gas stations, trailing down the interstate. Please don’t love how I need you, and know that one day, you and I could be okay.