#so my next course of action is just to stop giving a shit

[justheblueberry]

quick diluc

i missed painting

[purinfelix]

FELLOW FRANCO LOVERS RISE!!

Ok I’m not good at making requests but I think it would be cute if one of the interviewers wears an Argentina jersey and Franco is blushing and yapping in the media pen (and then he posts about it a million times like his handshake w Lewis)

good journalism ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ - franco colapinto

a/n: YES FRANCO LOVERS JOIN MEE i honestly love writing fics for this flirty little shit pls send more requests like this one eee it was so cute w/c: 922

It's all for the sake of good journalism.

At least, that's what you kept telling yourself - and all the other interviewers who were questioning why you were sporting an Argentina kit to a race that was being held in Singapore. Watching, buried in a hoard of other photographers and journalists, the race drew to a close and suddenly the crowd around you sprung into action. As drivers started trickling in, with tired expressions - some happy, others not, you resigned yourself to waiting. It was pretty clear you were only here for one.

He spots you as soon as he enters the media area, even though you're concealed by about a dozen other people. You watch as his eyes light up at the sight of the familiar blue and white fabric and he beelines towards you, ignoring the sound of others calling his name.

"Hello," he says, breathlessly with a beaming smile - you chalk the flush in his cheeks up to having just finished a race.

"Hi!" you spring immediately into interview mode, listing off question after question about the race. He answers them all as earnestly as he can, and the entire time you're watching him with an awe-struck look. The clamour and sound of camera flashes around you are drowned out as the two of you talk, and before you realise it you've forgotten you're conducting an interview and not just having a conversation.

"Well that's all the questions I had prepared, good job out there today, you did amazing!" you say, fully aware that you're gushing at this point but you're relieved when he offers you an earnest smile.

"Nice shirt," he points out, and you realise suddenly how keen he is to keep talking. You laugh, a little shy at being so openly acknowledged.

"I knew you'd like it!"

"Who's on the back?" he asks curiously and you turn around to show him, "Ah, Lionel of course, a woman after my own heart." You chuckle softly as he places a hand over his chest. There's a beat of silence when you honestly think he's about to leave but then he leans in a little closer.

"Blue looks good on you, maybe a Williams shirt next time?" He says it so casually it takes you a while to take in what he's saying - and to realise how boldly he's flirting with you.

"Ah," you let out, though it's more of a gasp than words, "I'll have to talk to your merch department about that."

"I'll be waiting," he beams, giving you a sly little nod before disappearing back into his garage. It's only once he's gone do you realise how sore your cheeks are from smiling non-stop. Letting out a shaky breath, slightly overwhelmed by how well that interaction went, you turn around to snake your way back through the crowd. You try to avoid eye contact with anyone but the other camerapeople only smile at you knowingly, and you can only hope some of them got good enough photos for you to remember this moment by.

It's only once you get back to your hotel room and open up your phone do you realise just how many pictures had been taken of the two of you - and how many of them were far better than 'good enough'. In one the two of you are deep in conversation, your brows furrowed in a frankly un-flattering way, him as perfect as ever. In another, you're both laughing, about what you're not entirely sure, but just looking at the photo makes your heart flutter. Your favourite by far though, is one where you're looking down at your notebook trying desperately to remember the questions you had wanted to ask him. There's a childish pout at your lips that you cringe at - but what makes it your favourite is the look on Franco's face as he watches you, cheeks flushed as his lips curl subtly at the corners.

You don't seem to be alone in this opinion either - at least, that's what you've deduced from the half a dozen times Franco has posted it. Clicking through his stories, you're taken aback by the fact that he posted more about your interaction than him scoring points - the photo of the two of you even becomes the cover of his post dedicated to the weekend. Looking at the post you're not even bothered by the hundreds and hundreds of comments speculating what's going on between you two. Instead, your attention is captured by the caption he's added to it - "A race weekend to remember, for more reasons than one."

It's a little corny, and you let out a soft chuckle as you scroll through the rest of his page shamelessly, though you're sure not to like any of his posts for fear of letting on too much. The two of you spoke once, and if you're being completely honest you're a little embarrassed to still be thinking about him at this moment.

Just as you're about to set your phone down though, it chimes with. a notification that makes your eyes widen - a follow request from none other than the man of the hour. The rational part of you begins questioning how he managed to find your profile or the professional concerns of a journalist and driver following each other. These concerns however do little to slow you down as you race to hit accept because at that moment the only thing you can think about is one thing - that he's thinking of you too.

[letorip]

can u give us a summary of kiss with a fist 4 without spoiling?

lol... here's a spoiler

kiss with a fist [iv]

"you smashed a plate over my head, then I set fire to our bed"

===+++===

pairing: tara carpenter x reader

summary: just as things begin to complicate even more between you and tara, her life becomes even more complicated

warnings: blood, angst, curse words, kissing, borderline sexual content

word count: 4.2k

A/N: i contemplated doing this in so many ways and i ended up thinking it was just funnier if i answered with the literal story. so... it was at least funny to me. it's shorter than normal, just because i didn't want to split up an action scene that'll take place next time, so expect a much longer part next time.

===+++===

===+++===

You didn’t like police stations very much, and you weren’t exactly doing a good job of keeping it hidden. Your knee bounced against the dusty linoleum in a quiet tapping noise, and although you yourself couldn’t hear it with the endless amount of phones ringing and shouting down the hall, Tara clearly could.

Her head rested on your shoulder, where you had slumped, and she placed a hand right upon your knee, stopping it from bouncing anymore. Her dark eyes looked up at you. “You’re making me even more nervous.”

“Sorry,” you rushed, quick to pull your knee away from her hand.

Tara frowned, looking back down to the tiling. “Of course this had to happen.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “What do you mean?” She shrugged, and you had to nudge her gently. “Tara?”

“Nothing,” she murmured. "Just Sam's license and her getting attacked at the bodega... I wasn't there, (Y/n)."

"You couldn't have known," you said, frowning at her. "Everyone thought all the 'Stab' shit was over."

"Yeah," Tara scoffed. "Mindy always says lightning doesn't strike twice, but I'm starting to wonder if that's really true."

"Or maybe it's just a crazed copycat. There's no way of knowing it's actually after you yet."

"That's not what Sam'll say." She had an uncharacteristic look of defeat in her eyes that you hadn't seen before. Tara was a spitfire, even to Sam. But she looked beside herself, wallowing against the soft fabric of your jumper. "Sam'll say that Ghostface is back. That we need to leave."

"Maybe she's right," you shrug.

"Maybe," Tara said. "But I don't want to go. I don't want to leave. I want to live, but... if it's not him, I can't just keep living my life on the run from whoever's chasing me. That means Amber won."

"Amber?"

"Yeah... Amber. Amber Freeman. She was my, uh, girlfriend."

"Oh," you frown. Tara's dark eyes looked up at you, nervously watching your reaction.

"Yeah... and she was Ghostface."

"Oh," you repeated. Tara never spoke about her much, and neither had the rest of the core four, really. It had never really dawned on you to ask, just because it seemed important to Tara, and for the longest time, what was important to her wasn't important to you. "Are you still nursing that wound?" you asked.

She smiled, but it did not reach the corners of her eyes. "Sometimes. It feels weird since she almost killed me, but there are times I really miss her. Grief demands to be felt, and all."

"Even if it's a murderous psychopath?" you asked with a smile.

"Yeah," she snorted, turning her head on your shoulder. "Even if it's a murderous psychopath." Then, she grew serious. "We should probably talk about last night, right?"

You froze, swallowing what felt like a lump in your throat. "Uh, now?"

"Well, it's just, I kind of felt something... I don't know. I know we said this was fake and all, and I don't know if you have your eye on anyone else right now," Tara began to ramble, "so if you do, don't feel pressured to agree to anything. I know I kind of made a messy situation out of this, and I don't even know where to go--"

But she was interrupted by the door down the hall opening. It was loud enough that your attention was pulled towards it, and through it came a woman with a stack of files in her arm. She smiled warmly at Tara, walking right over, and Tara seemed to recognise her, sitting up in her chair.

The warmth on your chest where her head had been was gone in an instant, and you would have been lying if you said you hadn't selfishly begun to miss it.

"Tara, right?" the woman asked with a smile, and Tara nodded, eyebrows furrowed in confusion and an underlying suspicion. But the woman just gave her a gentle smile.

"Kirby," she said, extending her arm out for a handshake. "Kirby Reed. I used to go to high school with Sam, and now I'm with the FBI."

Your eyes widened. If the FBI were now involved with the case, it was definitely not a good sign. You felt Tara's hand go to yours, squeezing it. If you were to ask her about it, she'd likely say it was to calm the nervousness you hadn't been able to hide on your face, but you knew that it was to steady herself, if anything.

"FBI?" Tara asked. "So it's really him?"

Kirby frowned. "I'm hoping it's some copycat, but from what I've seen so far, I'm not too sure. Is Sam still back there being questioned?"

Tara nodded, grimacing. "Apparently, both of us are people of interest. Our roommate's dad is on the case."

"Well," Kirby said, "I'll see if I can help him." She turned to you. "And who's this?" she asked.

"Uh--" you started, but Tara shook her head, interrupting.

"--(Y/n) isn't involved," she glared, defending you with a ferocity in her voice.

Kirby gave you a look over. "Are you sure? I don't mean to disrespect either of you, but are you sure you can trust them, Tara? It's never who you expect."

Tara nods. "I know they're not Ghostface. (Y/n) wouldn't lie."

(Y/n) wouldn't lie. The sentence made you sick to your stomach. You could see Calvin in your mind, laughing at how you got yourself into this situation. Alisha would've found it funny, too. You swallowed, standing up from the chair. You smiled weakly at Tara. "It's okay, Tar. I'll go home... just let me know if you need to leave... for the... uh, arrangement, or whatever."

She nodded, mouth drawn into a line. "Yeah... see you later... Duck," she said, trying equally as hard to smile. You turned around, walking out.

===+++===

You had pretty much collapsed into bed, the moment you got home. It had been an exhausting few hours, what with finishing your model and then rushing with Tara to the police station. Your final class of the semester was later in the day, so you would take any sort of sleep you could get.

And the sleep you took, waking up a few hours later with mussed-up hair and a final to get over and done with. You grabbed the model and your backpack, heading for the train station, and finally checking your phone for the first time in a little while.

Little Shit (do not pick up): mindy wants everyone at the park later, after your final

Little Shit (do not pick up): good luck with that, btw

Little Shit (do not pick up): also we should still probably talk about last night i didn't get to finish earlier

You gave a thumbs-up to the first message, and quickly typed back a thanks, before tucking it into your pocket. The critique was boring, but you couldn't help but feel yourself swell with pride when your professor complimented the small amount of green space you had put within the actual walls of the building. It had been Tara's idea, and you reminded yourself to thank her later. Now all you had to do was go to Mindy's weird meeting, and you could begin your break.

The group was sitting on a group of benches near the green, with Mindy hovering over them, her arms crossed. When she saw you coming, she raised her eyebrow at you in suspicion. You rolled your eyes, coming to sit down next to where Tara had saved you a seat.

She sent you a small smile when you did, weaving your fingers together. You knew that to the group she was just doing it because you and Tara were allegedly a couple, but just to you it felt like so much more than that.

And it made you feel a little bit sick, again.

"How'd your final go?" she asked, and it made your heart stop for a moment, the way her warm brown eyes looked in the soft sunlight. You shrugged, but could not stop the smile spreading itself on your face.

"The professor liked your idea."

"Really?!" she asked, sounding super excited, and you nodded. "Well now who's silly, for telling me it was a bad idea?"

"Well because it is a silly idea, genuinely who would think of that."

"I would. It isn't silly, it's cool."

"I'm afraid cool doesn't always work, Tara."

"It did this time," she said smugly, sticking her tongue out at you. You rolled your eyes, knowing but not hating that she'd be gloating about it for weeks.

"Lovebirds, cut the chit-chat," Mindy shot, glaring in your direction, and Tara huffed in annoyance but begrudgingly turned towards her. "Now, as terrifying as it all is, I’m actually glad I get a chance to redeem myself for not calling the killers last time."

"Mindy," Sam chided, arms crossed over her chest.

"Right, sorry," she said. "The way I see it, someone’s out to make a sequel to the requel."

"What’s a requel?" Anika asked, leaning forward as if trying to understand her girlfriend's antics. You didn't know either.

"You’re beautiful, sweetie, but let’s hold questions to the end," Mindy teased.

From next to you, Tara looked more worried. "Stab 1 took place in Woodsboro, but Stab 2 took place in college…"

Sam tensed. "So you think the killer’s copying the second movie?"

"Like a homage!" Chad suggested, looking proud of himself. The rest of the group shot him a look. "What? You all I know took French, it should not be a surprise that I know that word."

"Just a little bit," Tara teased. He sent her a small smile, one that you knew came from his massive crush on her. It only made you feel a bit worse about the both of you.

"That’s one possibility," Mindy said, nodding at the suggestion. "Heroes now in college? Check. Suspicious new characters brought in to round out the suspect list and/or body count?" she looked at you, Ethan, Quinn, and Anika. "Check, check, check, and check."

"I really don't like this," Ethan said.

"But it can’t only be about Stab 2," Mindy continued. Tara's eyebrows furrowed.

"Why not?" she asked.

Mindy had a glint in her eye. "It would make sense if this were just a sequel. But we’re not in a sequel, because nobody just makes sequels anymore."

"So what is it?" you asked, deciding to bite on her theory.

"We’re in a franchise. And there are certain rules to a continuing franchise," she replied.

Sam sighed. "I had a feeling."

But Mindy wasn't deterred. "Now, rule one: everything is bigger than last time. Bigger budget, bigger cast, bigger body count; longer chases, shoot-outs, beheadings- you gotta top what came before to keep people coming back."

"Beheadings?" Chad asked, taking notes.

Next to him, Ethan looked rather lost. Quinn and Anika looked just as confused. You were glad you weren't the only one lacking a real understanding of how the core four operated. They had earned a right to be a little nuts after surviving Woodsboro, that you knew. But the whole thing seemed a bit conspiratorial.

"Rule Two, whatever happened before, expect the opposite. Franchises only survive by subverting expectations; if the killers last time were whiny snowflake film nerds with Letterboxd accounts instead of personalities, you can bet the opposite will be true here." It was hard to absorb these things laid out as facts, and you struggled to follow Mindy's train of thought, sending Anika a wary glance. She just shrugged.

Tara noticed your confusion, sending a small squeeze to your hand and mouthing the word 'later.' You nodded, turning your attention back to Mindy, attempting to do your best to listen.

"And Rule Three, no one is safe. Legacy characters are cannon fodder at this point, usually brought back only to be killed off in some cheap bid for nostalgia. Sidney’s smart to sit this one out, but it’s not looking too good for Gale and Kirby. And that’s not even the worst part."

"There's a worst part?" You asked. Mindy nodded, smirking.

"The worst part is franchises are just continuing episodic instalments designed to boost an IP, which means the main characters are completely expendable now too. Laurie Strode, Nancy Thompson, Ellen Ripley, Jigsaw, Tony Stark, James Bond, even Luke Skywalker all died so their franchises could live on. That means it’s not just the friend group, any of us could go at any time, especially Sam and Tara."

You sent Tara a wary look at the suggestion, leaning harder against her. She tried to send you a small smile to comfort you, but it did little to stop the thought coming to your mind. You were cursed, that much was true from the sheer amount of grief that seemed to permeate around your family. It was a bad idea, to get so close to Tara, and that you knew. But it didn't stop the fact that you had a near electric desire to do so whenever she was nearby.

"Wait, any of us? Am I in the friend group?" Ethan asked, beginning to panic. "Am I one of the targets? Am I gonna die a virgin?"

"Um," Mindy started, blinking. "Weird overshare, but at least that brings us to our current suspects." Her gaze steeled over.

"Ethan. The shy dorky guy who no one suspects, because he’s so shy and dorky." Next to him, Chad shot him a more assessing glance.

"Why am I on the list? Because I’m randomly Chad’s roommate?!" Ethan asked, raising his voice.

"Roommate lotteries can be juked, you could have fixed it to get next to us," Mindy shot back, crossing her arms in increased suspicion. She turned to Quinn. "Quinn. The slutty roommate. A horror movie classic."

"Sex positive," Quinn corrected, "but thank you."

"And how did you come to live with Sam and Tara?" Mindy asked, narrowing her eyes.

"I answered their ad online--" Quinn started, and Mindy scoffed, raising her hand up.

"Say no more, you’ve already implicated yourself enough. 'Ad online,' good lord."

"Mindy, it was an anonymous ad, and you know we vetted her, plus her Dad’s a cop," Tara interjected.

"Tara, Tara, Tara," Mindy said, shaking her head. "Cop Dad? That's a great cover. Don't you get that's how these movies would work? Speaking of, while we're on Tara," she continued, turning to you.

"Hi," you said.

"Hi (Y/n)," she replied, smiling. It dropped to a frown. Tara's grip on your hand tightened. "(Y/n). The enemies-to-lovers, quippy 'annoyance' one of our main characters has incredible sexual tension with."

"Ew," Sam shuddered.

"Ew indeed," Mindy agreed. "Never trust the love interest." She looked over to Anika, who was smiling at her girlfriend. "Ever." Anika's face fell.

"Okay. So we’ve got our rules, and we’ve got our suspects," Sam huffed.

"Wait- what about the rest of you?" Ethan interrupted.

"I mean, I think it’s safe to rule out the four of us who went through this last year in Woodsboro," Mindy shrugged.

"Agreed," Chad nods.

"Um, not agreed. Maybe the trauma of what you went through caused one or more of you to snap," Quinn suggested, playing with the nail polish on her fingers.

"Or the fame you got from the killings made you thirsty for more! Ethan jumped in again. "And, let’s be honest, some of those theories online about Sam are--"

Tara sends him a death glare. "Don'y you fucking dare finish that sentence."

"He’s right, though. Face facts. If we’re all suspects? You’re all suspects," Anika shrugs.

You sent a wary look around at everyone and then another look back down to Tara, wondering which one would hurt her, and just how you'd be able to stop it.

===+++===

That night was the first night in a while nothing was expected of you, but you couldn't find it in yourself to actually relax. Mindy's monologue about how royally bloody fucked everything was now that Ghostface was officially back had set you a bit on edge, and part of you couldn't help but blame yourself.

You had thought the curse would get left behind in Nebraska, when you left, but it seemed maybe you had taken it with you, packed with your belongings. Maybe it was now affecting the person you had wished to protect from any harm. It still felt miraculous, just how Tara had wormed her way from your shit list to deep within your heart. Maybe that was the curse. Someone who could make you so annoyed could also make you feel like your heart was skipping beats.

You coped with the extreme worrying through a cooked meal and TV binge, flopping down on the couch and turning your ringer on, in case you were needed. You knew that Sam and Tara were likely preparing for the worst, and you also knew that you had been included on the list of suspects.

Maybe none of them rightfully believed you had it in you, but you also knew that even being a possibility meant that the core four had to keep you at arm's length for a while.

Or, at least, that's what you figured they'd do.

Right as the episode you were watching began to roll credits, you heard a hard knock on the door, freezing. Mindy had said something in a text, telling you to be cautious of opening doors when no one was scheduled to come over. You shot a wary look to your magnetic strip of knives, hanging over the hotplate. If you were just fast enough, maybe you could grab a knife or two, if Ghostface busted the door in. There was usually a phone call, wasn't there? Then why--

"(Y/n)?" Tara called, giving a hard knock. You felt your cheeks flush. Oh. You dashed to the door, not wanting to leave her on the step for too long.

When you opened it, you could see that Tara's own cheeks were flushed, and her chest was rising and falling rapidly.

"Did you run here???" you asked, raising your eyebrows.

"Uh...maybe," Tara said, suddenly finding the hallway outside of your flat much more interesting.

"I thought Sam would have you under lock and key," you teased.

"I snuck out..." Tara said, cheeks flushing again, but this time not from the run.

"Oh, so I'm harbouring a criminal?" you joked. Tara rolled her eyes, groaning.

"Can I just come in?"

"Do you trust me to do that?" you asked, curious. "I understand if you say no, believe me I get it. If I had been attacked or anything, especially by my girlfriend, I wouldn't trust anyone for a long time..."

Tara watched you ramble speak, eyes wide and dark and beautiful in the dim hall light. "I trust you... and I, uh, want some small amount of normalcy, like it was at the lab. Before everything got so weird, you know?"

You nodded, stepping aside for her to enter and then freezing. "Wait, Tara, what happened to your hand?"

You hadn't noticed until now, but her knuckles on the other hand had been bruising a dusty purple colour, still red at the edges. You let the door shut behind you, turning to her hand and holding it up in the lamplight of your hall. "What happened?" you asked, eyebrows furrowing in worry.

Tara's cheeks flushed again. "I punched a bitch," she said flatly. Your eyes widened even more, and Tara was quick to shake her head. "Just Gale Weathers. She wrote, uh, a whole book on Woodsboro. Called Sam a bunch of bad stuff. She actually was outside the station with the news and stuff when Sam was questioned earlier today... so I punched her."

You snorted. "Judging by your hand you definitely got her."

"Oh absolutely," Tara scoffed, as if she was offended by a possibility that she hadn't.

"You should probably ice it," you said with a wince, looking at the bruised skin. She scoffed again.

"What're you, a doctor?"

You shrugged, leading her into your kitchen. "I was going to be."

"Oh," Tara hummed.

"Yeah... took one introductory class and realised I hated it. It sucks too, because I gave my parents this whole speech about how I wanted to be a doctor because of our family, and I dropped the profession about a month or two later afterwards."

"Is that why you and your dad don't talk much?" she asked. "Is he a doctor?"

"No," you said, shaking your head. It was an amusing suggestion. "About as far as you could get from it, actually. But no, it isn't why we don't really talk." You didn't say any more on the subject, even though you could tell that Tara was curious. "We should really get you iced up, your hand is swollen, I can't believe you didn't show me this earlier."

She rolled her eyes. "You're acting like my parent again."

"I'm just worried about you, Tara," you said, shooting her a meaningful look. She was staring up at you with those damn eyes again like you held her heart in your hands. "I mean, come on, let's just put a bag of ice on it or something, or--"

But before you could finish what you were suggesting, Tara interrupted you, throwing her arms around your neck and standing up on her toes. "Is this okay?" she whispered, voice low. It flooded your ears and squeezed the air from your lungs, just how close her lips were from yours.

You can't help the small nod, or the way you're probably dumbly staring at her mouth right now, but her eyes are warm and inviting, and your hands find their way to her waist, palming at the exposed skin of her cropped shirt with your thumbs. "I've, uh, kind of wanted to do this for weeks," Tara admits with a small grin. The words spin around and around in your mind like you're on some carousel of thought.

If you could have formed words, you would have told her the truth: you had wanted to kiss her since she walked in the room and you saw her for the first time. But you can't. So instead, you crash your lips onto hers.

Tara doesn't hesitate even a little bit, wrapping her arms around your neck and falling off her toes as she kisses you back with fervour. You follow her down, working your lips against hers as her hands give up on your neck and instead move to spread themselves out on the warm apples of your cheeks.

You're taken over by some other, hungry entity entirely, and you lift Tara up onto the kitchen counter, into the exact same place she was sitting when she asked you for help with this stupid scheme. It doesn't matter now, you're too lost in her lips. You feel her tongue push past and into your mouth, and her hands travel up your back to spread out against the back of your shirt and pull you against her.

You can't help the groan that escapes your mouth, and you feel Tara's teasing smile against your lips as she breathes in your smell. Your hands are still on her waist, sliding up so that your thumbs gently brush against the bottom of her bra. She shudders at the sensation, opening her mouth wider, and you can taste the lingering cherry of her chapstick on her lips.

Neither of you is especially sure how long you stay there, but when you finally have to pull away, you're scrambling for air. You lazily let your forehead rest against hers, catching your breath and struggling to stay on your feet. Tara lets her hands wander from your back into your hair, exploring the planes of your body for the first time, and you can't stop the small comment that worms its way from your mouth after.

"Exploring the merchandise?" you ask with a teasing, breathless laugh. Tara shakes her head, finally opening her eyes and looking up at you with that same damn beautiful look.

"You should come stay with me and the others. It's safer that way," she says, becoming worried again. Her hands rest on your cheeks and she kisses you again, softer, but just as meaningful.

You painfully have to shake your head. "I can't, you know that."

"I won't be mad if you leave town," she says. "I won't hold it against you."

You smile. "I'm not leaving. I'm not going anywhere, Tara."

She nods, processing it, before crashing her lips back onto yours and tugging at the bottom of your shirt, but you catch her hands before she can tug it over your head. "No, Tara- Tara wait."

"I want you," she says.

"I know, but we should wait," you say, hands on the side of her thighs. "Wait until it's over. Right now, Ghostface is more important."

"He gets everything, (Y/n). I just want this. I want you. I know we did this whole thing about fake dating, and I know it wasn't real, but I realise that I want it to be. I just want you."

There's a burning in your stomach, burning for her, and you pull her in for another kiss. Only to be stopped by the sound of your door creaking open.

You freeze and so does Tara at the noise. "(Y/n)?" she asks, trembling. "Did you lock your front door?"

===+++===

DUN DUN DUNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN catch you all next time for a big ole action sequence and a whole bunch of drama

[wtfaniii]

Hear me out- VIP reader and Frontman In-ho

Reader goes up to In-ho and is all like “I’m bored, can you entertain me?” And bro goes “You shouldn’t be bored, and I’m not really on the table for entertainment, but I’ll see what I can do” then ensues actions n shit. Really most of this is dealers choice in everything that happens, I just want more VIP reader content <3333

Uhhh I love it!!! I hope I understood what you expected from this!

A better show

Fem reader VIP x Front man

Summary: You are looking for better entertainment than just shows where low-class people die.

Warning: Nothing explicit but some innuendo, flirting, some submission.

N/A: I've only written smut once in my life HAHAHA, I hope you like this.

Money buys happiness.

Or at least that's what everyone around you had told you for as long as could remember.

You were disgustingly rich and beautiful but few dared to approach you for fear of rejection or your bodyguards.

You wanted action so when they talked to you about financing some deadly games for entertainment you accepted, however, this was only your third year attending as a spectator and fell asleep during the second half hour, if it weren't for the wonderful liquor they served you would surely be snoring.

Once again, you were a spectator as the players played lut, you were bored but the only thing that made you come back every year to that place and wear a heavy gold-plated honey badger mask was to enjoy the presence of a certain masked man dressed in black.

There was something about him posture and voice that captivated you, you could even swear that from time to time he saw you too.

And you were right, In-ho looked at you sometimes, she was the only woman who was part of the VIPs and your bored expression throughout the show seemed intriguing to him.

All these men were disgusting and to him you were a beautiful flower growing in a pond of dirty water.

Even though he had never seen your face even once.

Although of course, you also had a certain selfish and classist character, you had only learned what you were taught since you were a little kid.

They both looked at each other and you, with a smile that showed your white teeth, snapped your fingers and gestured for him to come closer.

However, he sent one of his employees to which you quickly denied —No, you —You pointed the finger at him specifically and he had no choice but to obey you.

Maybe the alcohol was taking its toll on your system but this time you were feeling bolder than usual, just to be sure, you took one last big sip from your glass as he stopped next to you.

—¿Do you need anything? —he asked cautiously.

That deep voice and the scent of him perfume made you sigh and squeeze your legs together.

Yeah... you'd definitely had enough alcohol for tonight.

—I'm bored, ¿can you make this night more entertaining for me?

From the way you looked at him and the pout on your lips, In-ho immediately knew what you meant, but he decided to play with fire a little, nothing in this life is easy.

—¡Uh!... It seems our dear badger wants some honey —said the man with the lion mask using a playful and funny tone.

You ignored him, you were now too focused on getting what you wanted to get angry over a few rude words.

—I apologize if this bores you, but I'm in no position to entertain, I just maintain order and make sure the guests are happy.

From your posture he could tell that you didn't like that answer but he also knew that you wouldn't give up.

—I'm a guest and I'm not happy —You faked a smile—I'd be happy if you sat down with me, believe me, I'll make sure you don't get into trouble.

The silence in the room lasted a few seconds, In-ho felt the gaze of the other guests on you but that didn't stop him from continuing to challenge you.

—I repeat, the entertainment is not my responsibility, but if you agree, I will look for way to... satisfy you.

Front man walked to his podium and made some motions for someone to take charge while he took care of you.

After a few minutes he turned to you and extended his hand with chivalry and elegance.

—¿Would you like to accompany me to a more private place?

You smiled under the mask and took him gloved hand as you stood up.

—Gentlemen, I say goodbye for tonight, you guys keep enjoying the trivial spectacle.

You said calmly, despite the exotic environment you were in you still maintained your education and manners.

—¡Have fun! —the man in the buffalo mask exclaimed, followed by a loud laugh.

"They are idiots" you thought, letting yourself be guided by the handsome masked man.

You two took a few more steps until you reached a somewhat colorful room with a huge sofa in the center.

—After you —he said softly, giving a small bow and leaving a chaste kiss on the back of your hand.

You could only feel the cold material his mask was made of but you kept quiet, the simple act made your heart warm, it was ironic how you called him just for some fun but this man could make you shiver with a couple of non-sexual actions, it was just him.

Once you walked in and looked around at the bright colors you heard him close and lock the door, then you felt his presence behind you.

He very delicately placed his hands on your shoulders and pulled down your golden robe a little, revealing the bare skin of your neck, collarbone and shoulders.

In-ho paid attention to your breathing, that way he would know if he was doing it right or not, he took off one of his gloves to allow you to feel his skin touch you.

—¿Can you take off your mask? —You murmured curiously.

—I'm afraid that would be impossible, our identities are protected for security reasons.

You sighed and turned on your heels to stand in front of him, not allowing him to say or do anything you placed your own hands on golden mask and removed it revealing your face.

Once you dropped the mask to the ground In-ho remained silent, observing your features.

You were younger than he had thought, your eyes looked at him with desire but at the same time confidence and longed for affection, ¿how bad did your life have to be to look for affection in a stranger with a mask?

When you put your hands on his covered face and tried to remove the mask, he stopped you and walked away from you to the couch and grab a black cloth bandage.

—If you want me to take off the mask, you'll have to cover your eyes.

It wasn't a fair deal but you accepted it just because you were starting to get wet just from him attitude.

[...]

The soft sound of your breathing as he kissed the skin of your neck was the only thing that could be heard in the room, In-ho was sitting on the couch without his top clothes on, his lips leaving a trail of wet marks on your neck and his hands resting on your hip.

You felt so vulnerable and surrendered to him as you straddled him lap, naked and blindfolded.

You were used to having control over everything, giving orders and other things but this feeling of knowing that someone else could have control over you, could move you or manipulate you was new, it was exciting.

You let out a gasp as you felt the leader's fingers move closer to your core, teasing you a little.

—You're very anxious, ¿how long have you been waiting for this?

The mockery in his words made you shudder, you moved your hips against him searching for friction but he held you firmly with his other hand.

—Don't move —He whispered in your ear —You asked me to entertain you and that's what I'm going to do.

Seeing your red cheeks and your half-open mouth made In-ho feel his pants tighter than usual, yet he remained calm and continued playing with your center, enjoying the lewd sounds you gave him.

Their lips met in a hungry kiss and you finally had the chance to move your hands a little, which went from being on him chest to descending towards the belt of him pants.

With a few deft movements you got rid of him belt and pulled down his pants with a little effort.

He moaned lowly as he felt your hand caress him, if you could see him you would have seen the lust in his dark eyes and dilated pupils.

—I need you, now —You almost begged, it was pathetic how you begged for more from this man whose face you hadn't even seen.

—Ask me to give you what you want.

He still wanted to continue playing with you a little but he was also as eager as you so as soon as you said "Please" he lifted you up a little and positioned you so he could enter you without any effort because of how wet you were.

In-ho closed his eyes and a soft growl escaped his lips as he guided your movements on him, he would have loved to look into your eyes as you rode him like this but his identity was above that, or at least for now.

Besides, a certain part of him was also excited to be a secret from you.

With his free hand he grabbed your hair, made a small knot and tilted your head back to have access to your neck once again, while you increased the pace of your jumps he was in charge of leaving red marks on your skin.

When he felt you tense up he made you stop and without letting you go he turned you both around so that you ended up on the couch, this time he on top of you.

He began to thrust into you, at first it was slow, letting you feel every inch of him and then he was a little rougher, slowly increasing the speed and strength, your screams of pleasure were music to his ears, your nails scratching his back was another of his favorite sensations.

He placed your legs on his shoulders forcing you to take him completely which made you arch back and moan even louder.

—You are such a beautiful mess... —Lust and desire dripped from his words, he wasn't lying, having you like this under him and causing your screams was almost enough to make him finish inside you but he refrained from doing so, he wanted to keep taking you —You will be completely mine for this night.

He put one of his hands on your neck and squeezed lightly, cutting off your air flow and causing you to moan muffledly. The speed of his thrusts slowed down a little only to pick it up again and after a few seconds you reached your climax.

—¡Oh fuck! —You screamed as soon as you finished and your legs shook, however a soft squeal left your lips when you felt him hot sperm fill you.

It felt so good, this was definitely better than those crappy, boring games.

In-ho was breathing heavily and his face was completely red but he still didn't want to let you go, he had already tasted you and now he wanted more.

They both wanted to continue.

So you didn't refuse when he pulled out of you and made you get off the couch just to kneel in front of him.

—I have never knelt before any man —You said confidently and with an arrogant smile on the side.

—There's always a first time —He wrapped his hand in your hair and settled back with his legs spread on the couch —Now open that pretty little mouth.

You obeyed him without objection and when he could feel your warm mouth around his member it made him throw his head back with a moan.

It would be a long and entertaining night.

Now you can make sure you don't miss any year of these games and he'll be more than happy to give you that pleasure you longed for.

[worldlxvlys]

HEAR ME OUT

PILLOW PRINCESS!READER X BF!MATT

princess

matt sturniolo x reader

warnings: smut, p in v, cream pie, matt wakes reader up with sex but ALL ACTIONS THAT TAKE PLACE ARE CONSENSUAL!!

a/n: ok so i combined all three of these requests

hope you enjoyyyy :)

here’s don’t stop, go read if you want !!

waking up next to matt was perfect.

the bags under his eyes were more pronounced, his hair messy, and his voice low and raspy.

his face being the first thing i open my eyes to would never fail to make me happy.

nothing could compare to it.

well, maybe one thing.

“fuck, i need you so bad baby” i heard matt whisper into my ear.

my eyes fluttered open, immediately being met with the sight of a sleepy-looking matt.

he was rubbing his hard dick against my wetness, making me moan out.

“you ok, baby?” he asked, looking down at me with half-lidded eyes.

“fuck yes, matt” i gasped as i let my head fall forward, into the crook of his neck.

“you don’t even gotta do anything, baby. just wanna make you feel good”

he placed a kiss to my shoulder as he lined himself up, slowly pushing into me.

“fuckkkk” he groaned out.

i clenched around him at the sound.

“shit, baby. not gonna last if you do that” he said as he waited for me to adjust.

“ok, you can move” i said.

he wrapped his arms around my waist and slowly began to thrust into me.

my head flew back into the pillows, as i held onto his shoulders for stability.

“god, you look beautiful like this baby” he whispered to me.

“love being close to you like this”

i moaned in response, clenching around him repeatedly.

“fuck, i’m gonna cum” he whimpered out, seconds before he shot his load deep inside of me.

the feeling of his hot cum being fucked into me made my jaw hang open, eyes rolling back.

he softly caressed my thigh, hooking it around his waist to push himself even deeper into me.

“doing so fucking good for me, baby” he groaned.

“god, i love you so so much. can’t believe you’re mine”

his sweet words combined with his deep thrusts made my brain fuzzy.

he brought his hand to my clit, rubbing quick circles on it.

“s-shit matt” i choked out a moan.

“fuck, can’t wait to see that beautiful face you make when you cum”

“i’m gonna-“

“yes, yes give it to me baby. you got it” he said as he continued his movements.

with that, i released all over him.

he helped me ride out my high, before pulling out of me.

we both took a minute to catch our breath before speaking.

“thank you, matt. i’m beyond grateful for you” i said, giving him a kiss to the cheek.

“of course, baby. you deserve to feel loved” he left kisses across my collarbones.

“you deserve to be treated like a princess” he moved down to my boobs, leaving kisses so light they tickled.

“matt!” i giggled out.

he smiled at the sound of my laugh.

he brought his face to mine, lightly nudging his nose against mine.

“if you saw yourself the way i do, you’d be obsessed too”

“oh, so you’re obsessed with me?”

“baby. i just woke you up by grinding on you like a teenage boy. you drive me fucking insane”

“yeah, it was pretty pathetic” i said in a teasing tone.

“alright.” he said as he pulled away.

“no, matttt ! don’t be like that” i said, trying to suppress my laughter.

he glared at me, “it’s really not that funny”

i pursed my lips, trying not to laugh. “no, of course, you’re right”

the corners of his mouth slowly spread into a grin, and we both bursted out laughing.

“whatever, you suck” he said.

“hm, that’s not what you were saying a little while ago”

🌸🌸🌸🌸

hope you liked <333

masterlist

tag list: @lovingsturniolo @lustfulslxt @gwenlore @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @sturnspepsi @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @chrisdevora @cupidsword @nickmillersn1gf @stramboli4life @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @vib3swithanuk @ciarasturn1 @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @soursturniolo @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson @mxqdii @sturniolowhore @rheaakayourname @defnotayonna @urmom2bitch @abbie13sworld @starsturniolo @hearts4chris @theyluv-meee @sturns-posts @carolinalikesthings @itzdarling @chrisstopherfilmed @judespoision @sstvrnioloo @littlebookworm803 @nicksdrpepper @heartz4chris @jackcscxddles

[im4rmy]

your first time together - jisung (idol AU)

IMAGINE: you get cozy with a very hot jisung but you two decided that he was the one that had to initiate intimate stuff.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶ ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶ ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶ ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

• jisung was very virgin, you were his first girlfriend ever, even his first kiss. he had the courage to tell you so (even if you already knew) a while ago and you reassured him that was totally okay. so you decided together that when he would've been ready, he would've let you know and take action himself.

• you and him had some pretty heated make-out sessions, but that was it. of course you were more than willing to wait for him, you wanted him to be comfortable and to have the best experience with you when the time was right.

• but holy shit. he was SO HOT and the worst part was that he wasn't aware of it. so irritating.

• you were snuggled up in his fluffy and warm bed, with snacks all scattered around, watching a christmas movie even if it was only the beginning of november.

• he snuck his feet between your bare legs under the covers searching for your body warmth and you couldn't help but stiffen feeling him getting so close.

• "are you okay?" you nod but try to not look at him, keeping your eyes on the movie going. he doesn't push further.

• after some time, he's still hugging you and he absentimentally starts to caress your lower belly, just there, under your pajama top. you take a deep breath and scream at yourself to keep it together for god's sake y/n!

• but it looks like it's not working that well because jisung gets up from his comfy position and looks at you confused. "what is it? you're being weird"

• you sigh and close your eyes. "m'sorry. i'm just- ugh. i'm getting my period in a few days"

• he widens his eyes in worry. "are you hurt? do you have cramps already?" "no, i'm just horny"

• he FREEZES on the spot and you can tell his brain is malfunctioning. you chuckle and explain yourself before his heart combust. "i'm kidding ji, i'm okay. don't worry baby, okay?"

• you shift a little to snuggle again under the covers waiting for him to join, but he's not moving. you look up at him. "i'm serious baby, don-" "are you really- um... horny?"

• you blink a couple of time watching his tensed eyes and body and you see him gulping. atp you're whispering. "a little bit"

• he has the audacity to NOD. "so- like... you want m-me to do... something?" "i told you, it's okay. you don't have to do anything"

• "but i want to"

• your eyes snap into his. "oh"

• he gulps making his adam's apple bob and hesitantly get closer to you while you just watch him with curiosity. he sits right next to you against the headboard and taps his thighs.

• "c-can you come here?"

• his stuttering and all-innocent eyes are making you tremble from excitement. you nod at his request and climb his lap, sitting on him.

• he puts his hands around your waist and take a hold of the hem of your top, pulling it up. you're surprised at first, but when you notice that his hands are shaking you smile softly and put your hands in his hair starting to kiss him slowly.

• he touches your bare torso with nervous hands but when he feels you slightly grinding on him looking for friction... he let himself enjoy the moment putting his shyness aside. he stops the kiss without backing away from your lips. "can i touch you?"

• you nod and watch him direct his right hand right into your panties. wtf is happening? what gotten into him? you don't wanna ask.

• he really starts to touch your core with slow and uncertain movements; you softly moan closing your eyes and he blushes hard, his gaze going back and forth from your relaxed face to his hand working under your fluffy shorts.

• when he seems to understand which is the right pace, you start to literally (and carefully) ride his hand and you hold his shoulders because your legs are about to give up.

• "y-you like it?" "mhh... you're doing so good baby boy"

• he's shaken up by a whimper at the praise and you feel his erection growing under your ass. you want to tease him but he curls his fingers inside you and you forget everything else. you can't believe that park virgin jisung is making you cum with just his fingers rn.

• "shit- woah that was... unexpected"

• jisung is just looking at you with big puppy eyes now, his hand still in you. you smirk and kiss him gently, stroking the back of his head making him sigh. "y/n... can we- um... can we keep g-going?" "we can do whatever you want, it's on you, okay?" "o-okay"

• you puts your hands on his hoodie and you lightly pull at it, ancouraging the boy to take it off. he does it and you can see the goosebumps decorating his skin all over his juicy arms and his breath-taking upper body.

• you bit your lower lip and he blushes again under your adoring gaze. your mouth finds its spot just under his ear and he melts under your skilled tongue. you know that spot it's his weakness. and now you're also grinding on him so he's on cloud nine.

• "o-oh my god" "you're doing so well, my good boy"

• he moans and grabs your waist. "wait, i want to-" he doesn't speak further and just lifts you to lay you down on the bed and hovering over you.

• he kisses you again caressing your bare sides gently, taking his time touching you, worshipping your body. when he reaches for the hem of your pink shorts, you lift your hips for him and let him take them off, together with your sticky underwear.

• he holds his breath knowing that you're now naked under him, except for your bra. you help him taking his pants off too, smiling to ease his nerves a little.

• he begins again to kiss you because it helps him relax, you know him. but when you feel his boner against your bare thigh you get even more horny, if possible, and you can't help but rub your leg against his lenght, making him swear.

• he looks at your reassuring smile and takes a deep breath, before glancing down and gulping seeing your bodies so close. he aligns himself between your legs and finally interlocks with you, making the both of you moan out of relief.

• he thrusts in and out of you slowly, enjoying the way you whimper and shake because of him. and when he feels his orgasm approach he hides his face in your neck and cries his pleasure against your skin and just by hearing his deep fucking voice you can feel your folds clenching around him.

• "oh my- fucking god" "shit"

• you two stay in that very position while trying to regain consciousness because holy shit. your first time together was amazing.

• "how... how was it?" "great baby, you're awesome. can't wait to do it again"

• he couldn't even sleep that night.

♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤

masterlist

Taglist: @carelessshootanonymous

♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤

[peachylynnie]

garlic

word count: 1.4k

synopsis: in which sylus feeds you too much garlic.

contains: sylus x reader (doesn't have to be mc, gender neutral), an obscene amount of garlic (slight crack fic), mentions of cooking, eating, and love of food, suggestive at the end, and cussing.

a/n: i was rewatching wgm the other day and the male star did this to the female star. couldn't help but feel inspired to write this for sylus since he would totally tease us. do NOT copy or translate my work. sylus does NOT endorse plagiarism. reblogs and comments always appreciated :)

you love sylus' cooking. even before you started dating, you always thought his cooking was immaculate—so immaculate you can't help but wonder why he even had a private chef. rich people shenanigans, you like to conclude. you also wonder if rich people put a lot of garlic in their food. because there are a shit ton of garlic slices on the linguine pasta sylus just served you.

by no means are you a picky eater. heck, you love garlic. it's a blessing to humankind. garlic bread, fried rice, pesto, you name it. so many foods have garlic in them, and you enjoy all of them. but this? this was way too much.

sylus raises a brow as he sits next to you, wondering why you haven't picked up your fork yet. "something wrong, sweetie?"

"what's with the garlic, sylus?" you turn to face him, leaning back in the leather high chair.

he looks at your plate, then back at you. "is there something wrong with the garlic?" picking up his own fork, he goes to inspect your food. you stop him by holding his wrist.

"no," you shake your head, laughing a little. "it's just... this is a LOT of garlic." you nudge your head towards the incredibly noticeable pile of garlic slices. "did the tutorial really call for this much?"

sylus chuckles, returning to his own plate. meticulously, he twirls the pasta with his fork, leaving you to admire his sturdy forearms. not only do you love sylus' cooking, but you also love WHEN he cooks. why? because this absolute godsend, silver-haired, ruby-eyed, strong-nosed, supple-lipped, and deep-voiced of a man rolls up his sleeves when he cooks. his veins protrude and his muscles flex whenever he chops some vegetables with a knife. you don't pity the buttons that hold on for dear life to keep his sleeves together whenever he maneuvers a pan. resting an elbow on the kitchen island, you set your head on your hand to admire the current view.

you're taken aback when sylus holds up his fork to your mouth. normally, you would gush at such an action. the ruthless and relentless head of onychinus, offering YOU the first bite of HIS food. oh, you would happily accept, eager to taste absolute heaven in your mouth because sylus always makes great food. but, this time, you frown, noticing the mini TOWER of garlic slices on top of the noodles wrapped around his fork.

"i didn't take you for a picky eater, sweetie." sylus teases as he tilts his head. your jaw drops, flabbergasted by such an accusation. not that there's anything wrong with being a picky eater; it's just that sylus should know you by now. he's cooked for you plenty of times before. he's seen you eat plenty of times before. he should know by now you generally enjoy most food, and it takes a lot for you to even hesitate to pick up a utensil.

"i'm not picky," you cross your arms, a slight pout forming on your lips. "there's just too much garlic."

"there's no such thing as too much garlic," sylus quips. as if to further prove his point, he lifts the fork closer to your mouth. you begrudgingly accept, not without giving him a look, of course, because only you would accept a mouthful of garlic offered by sylus himself.

it's not necessarily bad. that's the first thought you have when you close your mouth. except you immediately change your mind after you bite down. holy shit, it's just straight garlic. you grimace, immediately uncrossing your arms to cover your mouth. you can't even taste the linguine. groaning, you try not to spit out the food. no matter how bad a dish may be, you wholeheartedly believe it's rude to spit it out in front of the person who made it. furthermore, this was sylus we're talking about; you're fricking boyfriend. you scrunch your shoulders as you painfully swallow, instantly reaching over the counter for a glass of water. after you relieve your mouth of garlic hell (it didn't help at all), you face sylus, glaring at him with all your might.

"that's too much garlic!" you snap, using one hand to slap sylus' shoulder and another to cover your mouth, overwhelmed by the smell. trying to ignore sylus' snickers, you drink more water. this motherfucker dares to laugh at your agony. you swear the next time he calls you over for some parmesan garlic linguine, you're going to tell him to shove a garlic braid up his ass.

"oh come on, sweetie," sylus jests as he twirls some more noodles with his fork before offering them to you again. "it can't be that bad."

you look at him with wide eyes. there's no way he's serious right now. "why don't YOU try then?"

"gladly," sylus says smugly. he takes a bite and lets out an obnoxious "mmm!" you scoff when he goes back for a second bite, unable to believe the audacity he has.

"there's no way it tastes that good," you say as you jerk your head away, determined to stay mad at him. "you just want to flatter your cooking."

"you're missing out," sylus says nonchalantly as he takes another bite. "besides, garlic is good for your health. it can provide a lot of strength. in fact, laborers were fed garlic back then, so they could have enough stamina. "

you roll your eyes. of course, he brings health into this. not that there's nothing wrong with it. you actually admire how much sylus takes care of himself. he's quite the competent man. but you know what he's doing. he's making fun of you. your eyes can't help but twitch as you look down at your plate. good for your health, my ass. no way an entire plate (sylus has massive plates by the way) topped with heaps of garlic is good for anyone. not even five serving spoons can rid your plate of its garlic slices.

suddenly, you get an idea.

"hey, sylus," you say as you reach over the counter for the serving spoon he used earlier to serve your plate. "since you like your linguine soooo much, mind if i feed you?"

sylus doesn't look up from his plate, clearly too occupied with his own making. "sure, sweetie."

you giggle, setting the spoon against the edge of your plate before scraping only the garlic slices onto it. given how much garlic there was, it doesn't take long for you to fill the giant spoon with it—garlic and garlic only.

"don't do that."

"don't do what?" you don't stop scraping.

"that," sylus answers as he warily eyes the spoon your hand is now holding up to his face. that was, indeed, too much garlic.

"come onnnn," it's your turn to tease. "there's no such thing as too much garlic, right? besides, it's good for your health. what good is the head of onychinus if he doesn't have enough stamina?"

"i have plenty of stamina," sylus insists. "and that," he juts his chin towards the spoon, "is too much stamina."

you snort as you nudge the spoon closer, ignoring him entirely. "say ah! eat and gain lots of stamina! you need it!" you chirp as you lift your free hand and extend it underneath the spoon, hoping to catch any stray slices.

sylus' eyes flicker from the spoon to your face. he leans in, acting as if he's going to listen to you. though, not before asking, "where will i use all this stamina? will you use it with me?"

you choke, immediately retracting the spoon. "what?!" you dump all of the garlic back onto the plate, avoiding the amused look on sylus' face and also the imagery of exciting... stamina-related activities involving him. "pervert," you grumble, a rosy hue appearing on your cheeks.

"i was talking about training, sweetie," he smirks.

no fucking way. you gape at him, not believing a single word.

sylus stifles a laugh, enjoying the hilarious expression on your face. look at you, so cutely flustered over the idea of taking your relationship to the next level. yes, he was talking about whatever was going on in that head of yours. no, he wasn't talking about training. but hiding such a fact was worth it, given your embarrassed state. wanting to admire your adorable face some more, sylus grips your chin before tilting it up.

"although, i'm not against what you have in mind, sweetie."

[yan-randomfandom]

Jinx x GN!Thief!Reader

getting chased by your victims—the people you stole from—you stumble into one of the most iconic figure in Zaun. wait, what the fuck—is that Jinx??

→ one shot, first meeting, violence, flirtatious MC 😭

🔵 ; act 3 js stabbed me btw

"Holy shit!! Move away! Move away, move away!!"

Before Jinx can even blink, she's slammed to the ground with tangling limbs. A choked groan escapes her lips as she quickly looks up to see you. Intense blue eyes deliriously captures all of your attention.

You stare back at her, eyes widening.

"...You're gorgeous," you blurt.

Her eyes narrow in a split second. Without warning, you swiftly rise to your feet and start running away. A few more thumping sounds follow, but Jinx is too fixated to watch your retreating figure.

"And I'm sooorrrrryyyyyyyy—!!" you yell, your voice growing fainter and fainter.

Jinx stands up.

A clicking sound stops her from moving. Something is pressed against her back.

"You an apprentice?" a gruff voice asks. The object—she guesses it's a gun—digs further into her top.

She sighs.

Turns around so fast they couldn't even react.

Her hand is raised. Fingers readily posed for a trigger.

...

Wait.

Where in the absolute fuck is her gun?

She drops her empty hand and taps on her pockets, feeling within. Empty. Empty. Empty.

Oh, shit. You didn't apologize for falling onto her.

The three massive men exchange confused looks. One shrugs and nudges the other. About to do a move, a long groan suddenly rings out.

Jinx pulls under her eyes in frustration. "God. You people are amateurs!"

She's already out of there. Her feet are running through the ground. Light, swift, and desperate. Inhumanly fast. The polluted breeze hits her face. How the hell did you do that? Right under her fucking nose.

Granted, she can always make another handgun and earn more money—but you had the blue crystals.

It's not like she'll have a hard time finding you, anyway.

You left trails of your muddy steps.

"There she is!"

A sharp exhale.

In one lucky move, Jinx manages to knock out all of the offenders. They all come crashing down on top of each other. Thank God for that loose pole.

There. She got rid of the nuisances. Turning, she prepares her heel—

"Woah."

You whistle loudly. Jinx snaps her head toward your direction. Just sitting above the rooftop apartments. "Gotta say, you're amazin', lady."

With a tilt of her head, she stares immensely at the weapon in your grasp. You handle it poorly by holding the tip with two fingers. Almost like it's worthless junk.

" ... That's mine," says Jinx.

"Yours?" you imitate her action, cocking your head to the side. Your lips pull a teasing smile. "Lowkey sounds hot. Can I be yours, too?"

She studies your face for a moment before a smirk of her own shows up. "Sure can. But my attractiveness kills people. Just gimme back my stuff, will ya?"

You laugh, humming, taking your sweet time to study her weapons. The blue glow in particular has your half-hearted attention. "Y'know, I've never seen anythin' like this before."

"Hah," Jinx crosses her arms, her grin widening. "Course ya didn't. I made it. Consider it an honor you even got to touch it, let alone look at it."

You pause at her words. Then take another look at the gun.

"You made this?" you say incredulously, an eyebrow arching. "Huh. That sounds a lot like somethin' Jinx would do."

Slight movement next to you. You turn, freezing at the sight of the bluenette sitting beside you.

She takes the chance to casually take the gun from your hand. There's an unimpressed look on her face.

"Guess what?"

You stare back, chuckling sheepishly. How is it that you've worked for Silco himself a few times, but have never met Jinx before?

" ... At least I'll die at the hands of a beautiful woman."

Jinx slaps your head. You let out a small cry, rubbing the sore spot. "I know who you are, moron. Silco's looking for you."

"Oh," you mutter, digging into your bag. "I should, uh, probably give your wallet back too."

🩵

I WANTED THIS TO BE MORE... hang on-- also my bad if reader sounds like a creep i swear that isnt my intention 😭 lemme know tho

"I won't complain if you explode me here rn,, heh..."

"dude shut the fuck up i said im sparing you"

"I bet you're real impressed by my swiping skills tho"

"honestly? yeah sure"

[leth-writes]

Yandere! Batfam x reader

Tried a different format for part 3.

You ran, down the hallway and thundered down the stairwell, sneakered feet slapping against the harsh concrete. You could hear Tim giving chase, racing after you. Yet, you didn’t stop. You couldn’t imagine what it would be like to be soulbound to someone you stole from, let alone someone who was threatening you right before you found out! You just knew that it would be an unpleasant experience, especially considering the animosity his family no doubt had for you. You burst out into the lobby, Tim close behind, and skidded to a stop. There, standing directly in front of you, was Jason Todd.

He was leaning against the wooden, warped table, leather jacket unzipped to expose his tight muscle shirt. His hair, complete with the little tuft of white at the front, was expertly styled to look perfectly messy. You had to admit he was cute, even if he was part of the now duo threatening your peaceful, if stressful, experience. His eyes flicked up from where they had been staring at his phone, which looked tiny in his hand, then widened in shock as yet another bond snapped into place in your chest. Your ring finger’s string, thick and jagged, now glowed a blood red, leading directly to his now slack hand. You stood halfway between the door to the stairs and the door outside, with Tim now standing just behind you and to your left.

“You feel it too?” Tim asked his brother, jerking his chin in your direction. His dark hair was mussed from the chase, though he remained poised, with not a bead of sweat on his forehead. You turned to face Jason fully, warily taking a step away from both of them, inadvertently putting yourself in a corner.

“Yeah. She our thief?” Jason murmured, eyes still locked on your own. You averted your gaze at the reminder of your actions. Shit. Of course, even when you met your soulfamily, you had to mess it up by stealing from them! You wouldn’t blame them if they rejected you completely and asked you to stay far away from them.

Tim nodded in response to his brother, stepping closer to where you now stood cornered. Jason loomed in the background, now texting and periodically lifting his gaze as if to check you were still present. “We aren’t mad. We just wanted to make sure you weren’t getting too… cocky. I mean, at first Bruce was ecstatic that someone was savvy enough to take some money. Work on uncorrupting the relief funds is slow going, you know? But this month you took so much that he was sure you were moving from relief to scamming.” He explained, hands raised as if to calm you.

“Listen. I’m sorry, I just needed enough to help cover rent for the building. Our new landlord hiked the rent up and no one can get jobs and we’ve all been so stressed…” You found yourself slightly tearing up. Jason clicked his tongue, pocketing his phone and striding forward to place an arm around your shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. Water under the bridge. Why don’t we head to a cafe and you can tell us all about your new landlord?” he moved you forward with his arm, waving lazily at Tim in a gesture to follow. 

“Jason, we need to head back to the manor. If anyone spots her, it could put her at risk-” Tim started, looking irritated. “We’ll just go out for some coffee and get an explanation. We need to sort out the landlord situation, even if they won’t be living here anymore.” Jason interrupted, once again waving lazily. He seemed quite relaxed, a direct contrast to Tim’s tightly wound posture. “Wait- no! I’m sorry for stealing but I can’t leave my apartment!” You burst out, pulling away.

“You don’t need to apologize. Not like Bruce is missing a couple thousand. He’s got more than enough to be set for life. Let’s go chat at the cafe, I’ll buy you a bagel; you look hungry and you didn’t get to bring your groceries in.” Jason tugged at your arm, marching you forward as Tim rushed to walk next to the two of you.

You didn’t miss the implication that they had been watching you and were aware of your actions that day, but knowing they had been aware of you since the beginning, it no longer surprised you. You supposed that going to the local cafe, indulging in a treat you hadn’t had since long before you been working at that convenience store all those months ago, wouldn’t be too bad.

Not running was your third mistake.

[that-hazbin]

Sorta AU/story idea where Alastor's a serial killer but he doesn't... completely realize that he's a serial killer.

He's super mentally Not Okay with a whole load of traumatic baggage, and sometimes when he gets past a stress threshold, he sort of... blacks out. Not faint, exactly, but his body moves on autopilot while his consciousness is just. Not there.

The first time it happened, he was fourteen. His father had beaten him black and blue, and left him limp on the floor to go beat Alastor's mother. When Alastor came to the realization that his mother stopped moving, his vision went blurry.

When he regained consciousness, his father was on the floor, bleeding from the head, eyes glazed over. It looked like he fell and hit himself on the corner of the dining table. Alastor lost both his parents on the same day.

After that, Alastor started having "episodes" a bit more often. A majority of the time, he manages to get home, and when he wakes up, he's hiding under his bed or in his closet, confused as to how he even got home. He doesn't want to be admitted into an asylum, of course, so he keeps quiet about this.

Sometimes, though?

Sometimes, he'll wake up knee deep in water, staring into the dark of a bayou. Sometimes, he'll wake up half-submerged in his bath, red going down the drain, with no clue as to where he's injured. Sometimes, the person who was screaming at him before the episode hit just went... missing the next day.

Alastor keeps quiet.

Naturally, when Alastor dies, he goes to hell. He doesn't remember the crimes, but he did commit them regardless. Of course, when people ask him what he did to end up down there, he can't give a real answer. The truth of the matter is that he doesn't know. Sure, he has... suspicions. Theories. But he doesn't know.

Things happen. He has several black out episodes in Hell before they simply stop happening, because he's stressed all the time and he can't just block every single second of every day from memory. He learns how to consciously survive in hell. Makes a name for himself.

Things roughly stay truthful to canon from there.

Then, one day, Charlie has a brilliant idea for a hotel activity. Part of redemption means acknowledging what brought you to hell to begin with, and what you can do now to make up for those actions! They go around the room, talking about the sins they committed, and what they can do now to improve. Alastor fully intends to stay out of the activity, he's not working towards redemption after all, but... Of course, Lucifer has to taunt.

Lucifer: What, you're just gonna sit around judging us?

Charlie: Er, dad—

Alastor: Hilarious coming from you, your majesty, truly. In any case, your memory seems to be failing you, I'm not here for redemption. I have no reason to participate.

Lucifer: Uh huh, neither is the bartender or the maid, you think you can be exempt just because you're staff? I'm the King of Hell and you don't see me skipping out. And here I would've thought you would have taken the chance to brag about the fucked up shit you did up there.

Charlie: Hey, guys, I don't think—

Alastor: Husk and Nifty are grown adults who are perfectly capable of making their own decisions. I am also a grown adult, and my decisions don't need to reflect theirs.

Lucifer: Oh, I see, you're a coward then?

Alastor: Believe whatever you want to, it makes no difference to me.

Lucifer: Sure it doesn't. Why don't we make this a game, huh? I'll guess your sins, and you stop me when I get it right.

Charlie: Dad, Alastor—

Lucifer: Can't imagine you fucked before marriage or anything, I mean, you scream prude. Bet you died a virgin.

Alastor: Hah, I wouldn't know. Are you done with your childish taunts, or are you going to allow your daughter to continue?

Lucifer stops dead, both because of the reminder that he's interrupting Charlie's activity, and also because he's replaying Alastor sentence back in his head. And, as the father of lies himself, he realizes that Alastor... wasn't lying when he said he didn't know.

Charlie: Great, yes, thank you Alastor! So, anyways—

Lucifer: Wait.

Charlie: Dad!

Lucifer: Seriously, wait. Bellhop, what the fuck do you mean you wouldn't know?

Angel: ... Oh shit.

Alastor: ... Charlie, continue your activity.

Charlie: Uh.

Lucifer: Oh, FUCK YOU! No, what the fuck did you mean by that?! What, were you like, drugged or—

Angel: HEY LET'S TALK ABOUT MY DEEP DARK PAST AS A MEMBER OF A MAFIA FAMILY!

Charlie: YES THANK YOU ANGEL LET'S TALK ABOUT IT! I'M VERY PROUD OF YOU FOR VOLUNTEERING!

Alastor gets the fuck out of dodge, and Lucifer finally gets the hint that he definitely stepped on a landmine that he very much should have not touched. Unfortunately, Lucifer alongside everyone in the hotel are left with a misunderstanding regarding Alastor's history.

[2xxelaa9]

Vi deserves none of the hate people give her and I'll die on that hill.

"She created Powder's trauma and abandoned her". No she didn't ? Did we watch the same show ? If anyone, Mylo made Powder feel like she was worthless, Vi had always lifted her up, she just asked her to stay behind that one day because she didn't want to lose her, which is super legit ? If she had brought Powder, everything could have turned out the same and everyone would have been like "it was so wrong for her to bring her very young sister in this". Like ??

And then she blames Powder for what happened but immediately regrets it and just walks a few meters to cool off. Yes, she snapped, but nobody's perfect, and she was just a child ? Why would anyone expect her to act as a grown and mature adult ? She had just lost everyone and lost her shit for maybe one minute and that's it. When she saw that her sister was in danger, she immediately went back for her but was stopped by Marcus. And she then ended up in jail, at maybe 15 years old, getting the shit beaten out of her for 7 years while thinking that everyone she ever cared about was dead. She is as traumatized and Jinx is. They just don't manifest it the same way. Let's not forget that during those 7 years, Jinx had a support system, Silco, someone to turn to even if everything was very far from perfect and that he was using her. She still had someone. Vi was alone, in a dark cell, getting beaten up every other day.

Until Caitlyn came and broke her out. The reason she accepted to talk to her was because Caitlyn showed her drawings that resembled her sister's !! She went with her to find Powder!! She even ditched Cait at the first occasion she got (in the brothel) to get the information from Sevika. And then the first occasion she got, she went to find her.

And then again, at the bridge, she left everyone to go find her sister, and went back for her friends because they were being blown up by Jinx's bombs. And then, Jinx lost it and fired that machine gun at her and Cait, and just then, it was the first time that Vi chose Caitlyn over Jinx in that moment. Because she had fired a damn machine gun at her. I mean, if my sister fired this at me, I'd probably run away too.

Then Vi's objective becomes to take down Silco to get her sister back from him (because one can argue that he was a nice and caring father figure, I still think that he was still using Jinx as a bomb maker, even if he cared for her. She was working for him.)

Next thing we know, Vi gets kidnapped by Jinx and spends the whole scene trying to convince her that she loves her deeply, she even suggests that they could run away far from Zaun and Piltover just the two of them and forget everyone else. It all goes down to shit when Caitlyn frees herself and starts threatening Jinx. Then Jinx kills Silco, nukes the Council, then probably disappears. And the only person she can hold on to is Caitlyn. Why ? Because since the beginning, Vi isn't interested in helping Cait find proof against Silco, she just wanted to find her sister. And despite Vi leaving, getting hurt and everything, Cait stayed besides her. She went to save her when Sevika stabbed her, she followed her when Vi ran after the blue smoke Jinx lit up in the sky, she tried to held her back in that "Oil and water" scene. So of course Vi stayed. Cait had proved her worth to her countless times. She even held back from killing Jinx (which had already committed terrorist actions, killed enforcers, firelights and probably many others).

Vi had nobody else to turn to. Literally. Everyone was dead, and Jinx had rejected her. And Caitlyn still didn't reject Vi, even after her sister killed her mother.

Of course Vi was going to stay by Caitlyn's side. It was the only person somehow caring for her. Even acknowledging her existence.

"But she became an enforcer and it was against everything she stood for". Again, have we all seen the same show ? Vi disagreed to Caitlyn's proposition. It was when Maddie met her that she told her she was "happy that she joined the enforcers". Caitlyn had enlisted her and didn't leave Vi a choice in that. Vi went along because she trusted Caitlyn and she only ever fought in Caitlyn's team. Vi was ready to let Cait end Jinx, because for her, Everything good in her sister was gone. There was nothing else to save. But when she saw Isha, it was not just her wanting to save the child, but also a part of her seeing Powder again. She saw that her sister was still capable of love and compassion. So she stopped Caitlyn.

And then Caitlyn hit her and left her. Again. At this point, everyone in the show had abandoned her. she was all alone, except for Loris who eventually also gave up on her.

Then Jinx went to find her again to save Vander. Then Vi started to gain hope again. Making plans with Jinx for the future. "Maybe we could stay here, help them out". Then shit went down again and Isha died (note : Vi's first reflex was to save her sister in that moment). Then Jinx surrendered, Cait locked her up and Vi went to free her sister. Who then proceeded to leave her again, hitting her in the spot that hurt her the most (both physically and emotionally). Let's note that in that scene, Vi called her "Jinx" and not Powder. It proved her that she loved her for who she was now. She loved Jinx.

Vi had again lost everything. She even thought she had lost Caitlyn by going against her orders again. She was even left alone in that cell, locked up, with no one she cared about, expecting another beating from life. She had come back to the point zero of everything. The concrete cell, the loneliness, the feeling of having failed everyhting and everyone.

But Caitlyn walked in and let her know that she had helped her free Jinx. That she trusted her enough to leave her desire for justice and revenge behind her because she knew how much Vi cared for her sister. And that was the first time in the whole show that anyone had made something for Vi. Hell, it must have been the first time in the show Vi might have felt loved. Like, think about it. Vi then let herself have one moment with Caitlyn, because she had started to become tired of being rejected and hurt by everyone. She had one single moment. And everyone blames her for that and says she's a terrible sister, when it's clearly not the case and has never been.

Time for the war. They fight. Then Vi sees Vander. Her first reflex is to try and save him again. Because she just loves her family so deeply she can't actually help it. And then Jinx sacrifices herself to save Vi. Have you really heard Vi's scream ? It's the most devastating sound and scream that we ever heard on this show. It even echoed louder than the actual explosion. Vi loved her sister so so so much.

With all that, I don't get how people can hate her. She just suffered so so much throughout the show. She is just a little love ball that constantly gets kicked by everyone. She did deserve that somewhat happy ending. I'm so tired of seeing Vi slander.

Also, props to the writers for breaking the doomed lesbian cycle. For once we got a win. Hurray !

[transformers-spike]

Human SO giving TFP Ratchet a well-deserved break. Doctor gotta update his knowledge on anatomy, right?

Get his ass

Hours of watching Ratchet slave away at his workstation have taken their toll. You walk up behind him, confident enough he won’t accidentally crush you after dealing with the hyperactive-likes of Miko. “Hey docbot!” you cry out waving an arm at him. He turns around just enough to acknowledge your presence, massive brow plates furrowed into a wide V. “You should really consider taking a break now, it’s been at least…” you tap your chin thoughtfully – “20 cycles since you started your uh…” you gesture at the massive mechanical mass on his desk, “the thing.” To his credit, despite being clearly exhausted, he tones down the annoyance in his voice when he tells you he’s fine. Right, fine and dandy, you think. You’re half considering shimmying up his leg to get to his massive workstation, look him in the eye and tell him to clock in for the night. But before you can so much as touch his leg, he moves away from you, kneeling down to save your sorry ass neck from developing early onset scoliosis. “I appreciate your concern,” he says matter-of-factly, “but our kind can operate without rest for a considerable amount of time.” You almost wait for him to add something about humans being unable to withstand the same sort of stuff after the two-days-and-a-half all-nighter he watched you pull fuelled up on nothing but coffee and spite. Still, you are a shameless being, and so you overlook the judgment of his optics and reel him back in.

“Nope,” you shake your head. “Not when everyone else takes time to recharge, and especially not when you’ve been neglecting your energon intake.” You’re unsure if he seems more proud than frustrated when you give him his usual “get some rest” speech. You offer his pede a “that’s final” pat as he takes the time to contemplate his next course of action. While staring right at the thingamajig on his desk… “Alright,” you say with your hands on your hips, “well if you don’t want to stop working, guess little old me’s going to keep all their human anatomy for themselves.” You hide the evident smugness in your voice with whininess. Said whininess rings out just loud enough in the (thankfully) empty bridge room for you to cringe inside. Cybertronians have thinner face plating compared to the rest of their frames, which gives the energon underneath just enough transparency to come to the surface in what you’ve come to describe as a blueberry blue blush. Holy shit, you think. Did my lack of game actually work? “I won’t let you impale yourself on my spike,” he states with the finality of a death throw executioner. “I know I know,” you mumble sheepishly, “but what do you say?” You flash him a smile promising mischief. He gives you a final once over, ex-vents loud enough to have the noise reverberate in your ears, and gently offers you a hand to climb on.

Back in his berthroom, you grind against his interface panel with enough force to fuck up your zipper. Another pair of jeans ruined in this economy to Ratchet’s bemusement, even if he hides it under a good-natured scowl. “Well shit,” you say, proceeding to remove your pants and everything else on your person in the sexiest manner you can strip, which probably looks more like a headless chicken wrestling with the clothes it evidently shouldn’t be wearing. Not that Ratchet minds. His optics trail from the curvature of your neck to the moles and odd freckles bespeckling your chest before receding down to the stretch marks across your stomach and hips. As odd as it feels having someone – an alien lifeform no less – taking in the many flaws of your body, you feel no judgment emanating from him. You would assume the interest he has in your shape is aesthetic in a scientific manner, like a botanist observing the upturned petals of a newly discovered species – but the softness of his gaze indicates much more than that.

You don’t flinch when he reaches out an exploratory digit to stroke your skin – heck, you turn around and give him 360 access to everything he wants, completely unabashed by your own nakedness. Glancing over your shoulder, you can almost hear the anatomical jargon in his head as he traces a finger over your trapezius.

“Please don’t tell me you’re taking mental notes again.”

“My processor is resting just fine,” he responds. You’re halfway through calling him a liar when he scoops you up with ease and brings you to his lips. The kiss is featherlight, tickling the nerves between your trapezius and latissimus dorsi. You let out a short sigh of content and crane your neck just enough to kiss him right on his nose-ish area. It feels much harder than the rest of his face, probably because it’s part of his helm. Eh, you’ll ask later, you’re already far enough with your one way ticket to fingertown. Right on cue, his eyelids flutter open, blue optics draping warm light over your naked and suddenly too cold body.

You hear the familiar whirring of his interface panel and you send him a look of incomparable excitement as you glance from his rapidly pressurizing spike to his flushed face.

“Can I?” you ask like a child at an ax throwing competition. His vents flip to their third setting, but he nods cautiously.

Mass displacement, for all the three hour and a half explanation he gave you, may be completely off the table with team Prime’s worrying level of energon, but at this point you’re too excited to care.

He sets you down in his lap, close enough for you to finally get a good up close and personal look at his spike. Fuck human flashing, this thing literally glows with blue biolights, grey and metallic with the same orange accents of his frame. If you had any brain cells left, you’d be tempted to ask him if Cybertronians can cosmetically change the paint of their spikes. Sadly, you’re too busy ogling at his valve to care.

You crawl over to it and lean down to look into its upside down vastness like a cave explorer. Not a second later, your 300 IQ brain considers shoving your entire arm up his valve, if only to prove you can be just as good if not better than a Cybertronian in the berthroom (human ego and all). Just as fast as the thought appears, you’re now batting it away reminding yourself it’s too risky considering its piston mechanism. If it can take a 7 foot tall metal dick, you don’t want to find out how easily those walls can close around you and shatter your radius, ulna and humerus, and possibly turn your muscles into organic mush.

Oh shit. Naked and bent over like this he’s definitely gotten a good look at the entirety of your wiggling genitals while you were exploring his open interface panels. Quite the gentleman (and pervert you assume), he hasn’t mentioned your – ahem, situation until now.

Taking it in stride with overinflated confidence, you send a wink his way and immediately shove the tip of his spike into your mouth. If your jaw’s aching is anything to go by, going deep is most unwise – but Ratchet’s startled moan is all you need to go down another inch.

Whatever meager trust you’ve instilled in him is your one way to make your giant robot boyfriend overload so hard it cures his resting bitch face. You throw yourself into your work, mandibles threatening to give out as you bob your head up and down not even half of his spike tip.

“That’s enough,” he calls out, struggling to regain cognizance from the sound of his strained vocalizer.

His warning means well, but at this point you’ve sacrificed too much of your jaw to give up. You take your courage by the dick and go as far as you can without dislocating it, breath cut short by his sheer girth.

This, for all its meager worth, is just what he needs. Your remaining brain cell has enough foresight to constrict your larynx when his transfluid shoots down your throat.

“Spit it out!” he cries out like an underpaid teacher watching a student shove the class pet into their mouth. “You don’t know what it could do to your biology!”

You cough and sputter, but it’s too late, you’ve swallowed it whole. You turn to meet Ratchet who’s looking at you like he’s about to turn into an ambulance and cart you off to the hospital with June on speed dial.

“Hopefully get me pregnant,” you say with a wink, batting your eyelashes at the docbot.

[narryffdreaming]

lia and harry's story (five)

summary: harry is a bartender and lia lives right across the street. rating: +18 || warnings: mental health (anxiety) and smut (here and there) word count: 10,9k

(ONE) | (TWO) | (THREE) | (FOUR - I) | (FOUR - II)

Lia had no idea what time it was when the banging on her door started. She also had no idea how long it had been since she’d arrived home from the bar. Since she’d cried her soul out. Since she’d run out of tears. 

She knew it was Harry, though. Of course she knew. He had called her non-stop for a while — from the moment she’d left the bar until she’d finally texted and asked him to please stop. 

And then he had texted her, too. Multiple times. I’m sorry. Let me explain. I messed up. I was an asshole. Please let’s talk. Which only made it all hurt even more. Every word she read stabbing her a little deeper inside her chest. 

Because she wanted him to be there for her. She wanted to cry wrapped inside his arms and forget about the pain while laughing at something silly he said. She wanted that. She wanted to answer his phone call and ask him to spend the night with her. 

She wanted him.

And yet she shouldn’t want him, and she couldn’t want him. 

…

Right?

…

See? It would be easier if he didn’t keep trying. If he didn’t act like he cared. If he didn’t act like he regretted his actions. If he didn’t put the decision in her hands. 

Was she overreacting? 

Would it be okay to forgive him? 

Should she never talk to him again and move on?

Should she listen to what he had to say?

She couldn’t make up her mind. So she texted him back — I need some time to think — and turned her phone off. Hoping a nap would make things better. Hoping some sleep would fix everything up. Give her the answers she needed to decide how to act next. 

With that in mind, she forced herself to change her clothes, then curled into a ball under her quilt and hugged a pillow. The pillow that smelled like him, and that brought a new wave of tears as she stared at the darkness outside her window and waited to fall asleep.

Except she never did. 

She didn’t nap, she didn’t rest. No matter how hard she tried, she just couldn’t turn her body off.

And then there he was, trying again. Banging on her door. Loudly. Desperately. A sound that worried her it would wake up all of her neighbors, and that didn’t stop until she gave in and dragged herself to let him in.

“I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry.” He slammed his body into hers, curving his back and grasping at her neck. “Shit. I’m so sorry babe. Please. I’m so so sorry.”

Lia stared over his shoulder. Watched the hallway through the open door. The yellow lights, tinting the white ceiling and walls. Thankfully her neighbors hadn’t shown up. She wondered if they ever would… If someone in that building would worry for her to the point of checking what was going on or if she needed any help. Even in the middle of the night. 

Was it even the middle of the night already? She didn’t know. She had lost track of time. She had lost track of— 

“I freaked out.” He pulled away, then cradled her cheeks between his clammy and shaky hands. “I’m sorry,” he said, staring into her eyes. “Please say something. Are you— Shit. Are you ok? I’ve been worried sick. And I know it’s my fault, I know that. I just… Babe. Please. Please say something.” 

“The door.”

“What?” 

“The door is open.” She lifted one arm, pointing at it. Harry followed the movement with his eyes, then with his head, looking over his shoulder and behind him. “Can you close it? I’ll wait in bed.”

He faced her again, brows deeply furrowed. “Are you— I mean, you want me to stay? Lock the door, and go to bed?”

Lia nodded.

“You sure?”

“Yes.” She placed her weak fingers around his wrists, then pulled them down and away from her face. “I can’t do this right now. I can’t— I need to sleep.”

She looked down to the floor and turned around, then tiredly dragged her feet through the living room. 

“Just lock the door, okay?” she added. “Please. And come to bed.”

“O—ok,” Harry murmured behind her. “Of course. Whatever you need.” 

“We’ll talk in the morning.”

“Ok. Yeah. Ok.”

— — — — —

Lia blinked a few times. 

Everything was dark and silent, but she wasn’t tired anymore. She was hot, though — really hot. Neck sweating and sticky legs kind of hot. 

Uncomfortable and annoying kind of hot. 

She stirred and shuffled forward, but then Harry’s arms tightened around her, pulling her back to him as he mumbled and grunted behind her. Only then Lia realized how hard he was holding onto her — how he had his face pressed against her neck, his legs curled behind hers, and his arms firm around her stomach. How his warm breath kept hitting her skin, and how his chest moved up and down against her back. 

Despite all exhaustion and disappointment, a tender feeling enveloped her heart, and then the tiniest smile danced through her lips. 

His unconscious need to keep her close was sweet, and had it been any other day and under any other circumstance, she wouldn’t have tried to slip away from him again. 

If anything, she would’ve leaned into him even further.

But the memories from the night before were still livid, just like the pain he had made her feel. So she pursed her lips, took a deep breath in, and tapped the back of his hand.

“Harry,” she called, raising her still sleepy voice and wincing at how sore her throat still was. 

“Hm…”

“I— I need to move.”

He squeezed tighter, crushing her into his arms and nuzzling his face even deeper on her neck.

“C’mon…” She grabbed his forearm. “I’m sweating.”

“I don’t mind,” he mumbled. “Stay.”

“But I mind, Harry.”

A moment. A pause.

And then… 

“I just… Don’t wanna let you go.” 

His breath tingled on her skin, and his words spread goosebumps all over her body. 

Harry’s morning voice normally tended to make her feel… Things. Many things. Different things. Always scratchy, always husky. Deeper and slower than during any other time of the day. Sometimes, it brought a desperate need to touch his bare skin, kiss his pouty dry lips and have him cursing and panting by her ear. Some other times, it led to long conversations, soft giggles, and innocent touches. It made her ache for late breakfasts, cozy cuddles, and random childhood stories in bed. 

No matter what, exactly, his voice made her feel, it always had some sense of happiness behind it. It always made her smile, it always made her feel good about herself. 

And that morning, or night, despite everything — or maybe because of everything — all of those things seemed to intensify. His tone, and also her feelings. Her happy feelings. As wrong, as unsettling, and as out of place as that might’ve been. 

Lia swallowed. “It’s… It’s too warm. And I can’t move.”

“Then stay. Just five more minutes.”

“No, c’mon… Harry— This is— I mean— Please let go.”

“Ok, ok,” he sighed, loosening up the grip, but not really pulling his arms away. And then he pressed a gentle kiss to the back of her neck, and kept his lips on her skin as he murmured, “If I let you go, do you promise not to leave me?”

.

.

.

What?

“I know I messed up,” he added. “And I know I’m asking for a lot right now, but please forgive me.”

Lia closed her eyes. 

She couldn’t see him, but his voice carried so many feelings and so many emotions that she couldn’t believe it was only because of what had happened at the bar. Which meant she had no idea what it could be about, and only reminded her of how little she knew about him. Of how foolish she had been. 

“This isn’t fair, Harry. I can’t even… Why did you do that? Why did you…” The lump was back on her throat, and she stopped just to blink and swallow it down. “You have no idea how hard it was for me to go to the bar. How… How hard I had to convince myself I wouldn’t mess things up or… Embarrass you in front of other people… I just… I wanted to surprise you, y’know? Try harder just… Just for you, I guess… Or… I don’t know…”

“Lia, I’m sorry, I—”

“No.” She shook her head. “You put me on the spot, Harry. And that was just…” 

She took a deep breath in, and her bottom lip quivered. So she squeezed her eyes shut and swallowed, forcing the few tears to roll down her cheeks.

“I was already so uncomfortable because of Rohan… He was making me so uncomfortable… And all I wanted was… I didn’t… I wasn’t there for him, y’know? I was there because of you… But then you…” 

A soft, short sob left her mouth, and she brought her hand to cover her lips. 

“God… I’m so stupid.” 

From then on, it was hard to stop herself from fully crying. So she didn’t. 

She let it all out. 

All of it. 

The sadness. The pain. The disappointment. The shock. The embarrassment. 

She cried and allowed herself to be vulnerable in a way she hadn’t allowed herself to be before. And although it felt freaking terrifying, it also brought a new gigantic wave of relief inside her. It flooded through, and then it pushed her to keep going and going. As best as she could. 

“You made fun of me, Harry… All this time you… You know how I feel about myself… And you made me feel so comfortable and… And so safe around you… And then you just…”

She shook her head, taking a moment to sob, and then catch her breath. 

Behind her, Harry’s own heavy breathing guided the quick up and down of his chest. Other than that, though, he didn’t move one inch from the spot. Not while she cried, nor while she talked, nor while he spoke again. 

“I’m… I’m sorry,” he murmured, unable to get rid of the scratchiness in his own voice. “I wish I could go back in time and take everything back but… But I can’t and… And I don’t know what to do to fix this… But please just let me try… Please.”

Lia sniffed and wriggled inside his arms, once again trying to turn around.

This time, Harry let her, withdrawing his hold and scooching back so she could have more space. 

When she faced him, he took one hand up and rubbed under his nose, then across his cheek, quietly sniffing before sighing through his mouth. 

“Sorry,” he breathed out, shaking his head. 

In the darkness, she couldn’t see the details of his face, nor the specific shade of his green eyes, but she saw the tiredness, the sadness, and the guilt. All over him. 

“I know I fucked up,” he said. “I know I did. And I’m sorry. I know it doesn’t change how I made you feel, but I really am. Would take it back if I could… I really would…” 

She rearranged herself, and her pillow, leveling her head to stare directly at him. 

She knew she could stop talking. She knew she probably should stop talking. She knew she had already made her point, and that she had explained herself. And, to be honest, she also wanted to make it easier for him, to just forget everything and move on. But she still had so much to say. And she had to say it. She had to be honest, because she couldn’t pretend the horrifying couple of hours between running back from the bar and finally falling asleep hadn’t happened. She couldn’t forget about herself just to make him feel better. And she couldn’t ignore her feelings just to protect his own. She had done it her entire life already, with everyone around her, and she couldn’t anymore. She just couldn’t.

Which was why, with all the softness and strength she carried inside her, she forced her thoughts into words and let them out of her mouth. One by one. 

“You were really mean.” 

“I know.”

“And it was just… Out of nowhere… I mean…” She sniffed again, then wiped the few still-falling and the many already-dried tears from her cheek. “What did I even do to you to treat me like that?” 

Harry sighed and closed his eyes.

“It wasn’t… You did absolutely nothing wrong, Lee. It wasn’t about you.”

She furrowed her brows. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He shrugged, blinking and meeting her stare again. “Exactly that… I shouldn’t have done it. Shouldn’t have treated you like that, and shouldn’t have said any of that… But it wasn’t about you. You did nothing wrong.”

She drifted her eyes around his face. Around his puffy, tired, distressed face.

“Then why… Why did you do it?”

Harry took a deep breath in and turned on his back, facing the ceiling. Lifting both hands to his face, he rubbed up and down a few times, then slid his fingers up to his head and pulled his hair back. 

“Harry…”

He shook his head. “I can’t.”

“You can’t?”

“No, I— I don’t… I mean I know I fucked things up but I… I don’t think I can explain it.”

Lia’s frown grew deeper. 

“So why… Why are you here, then? What am I supposed to…” Shit. Her chest tightened, and she could feel the tears coming back. And she was just so tired of crying. “I— I don’t get it. Everything was fine and… Things were good… So why—”

“Were they, tho?” he asked, still facing the ceiling and dropping his hands to his chest. “Were you really happy with what we were doing? With… With me?”

Lia blinked, and her voice turned into barely a whisper as she asked, “Are you… What are you talking about?”

He took both of his hands up to his face again, covering his eyes with his palms. 

“Fuck,” he breathed out. “I hate this.”

“Harry, what… What are you talking about? I don’t understand…”

“I swear to God if I lose you ‘cause I got jealous of Rohan.”

Lia blinked at him. Multiple times. 

“Harry—”

“Of fucking Rohan, for fucks sake.”

“Harry,” she tried again, reaching one arm to touch his elbow. “You were jealous? Of Rohan?”

With a humorless, nervous laugh, he took his hands off his face and lifted them to the air. 

“C’mon babe… You know that’s exactly what happened.”

She pulled her arm back to her chest, then stared at him. 

Did she, though? Did she know jealousy was what had caused Harry’s behavior at the bar? 

Looking down at his shoulder, she nibbled the insides of her bottom lip. Breathing slowly and gathering her thoughts together. 

If there was one thing she could never understand, from the first moment they’d hung out at her place, it was why Harry constantly insisted on bringing Rohan up. She’d told him she didn’t care about his coworker, she’d told him they’d never talked outside the bar, and she’d told him the only moments when she thought about him were when he mentioned his name. 

Still, Harry never gave up.

She knew Harry didn’t have a problem with Rohan, though, and that they were friends. Close friends. It wasn’t rare for him to text her saying that he would arrive a couple of minutes later because he was “chatting with Rohan”. Or to include his name when he told her a story about some adventure he had lived since arriving in the US, letting her know they spent time together off work as well. 

So Harry liked to have Rohan in his life, Lia knew he did. 

The only moments when he closed himself off around Rohan’s name, was when he made jokes about Lia and him fancying each other — which she had completely denied, more than once. So yes, part of her believed there was some type of jealousy behind his words, but he also never took it too far, so eventually she didn’t think of it as anything else but what they were: jokes. 

Which was why after a while she’d given up on fighting him on it, just rolling her eyes or waving him off when the name suddenly popped up in a conversation. And then she didn’t think too much of it anymore, because it worked: Harry would make a joke, she would ignore it, and they would move on. And that was always it. Easy and simple. 

However now, considering the earlier events at the bar, yes, it would be fair to assume there was something else going on, right? Something she didn’t know, and that maybe she should’ve tried to understand before. 

Still, though, Harry snapping at her out of jealousy didn’t make sense. If he was jealous, then why didn’t he just… Maybe kiss her in front of him, or something like that? Why didn’t he tell Rohan they were… Something? Why didn’t Harry mention something about him being the reason why she was there? 

If Harry was jealous, then why did he have to put her down, instead of making it clear to Rohan that he was the one spending time with her? 

Wouldn’t that make more sense? 

A sigh left her mouth. 

That was exhausting, to be honest. She didn’t even understand jealousy that well. She wasn’t a jealous person, remember? 

She was insecure, but not jealous. 

So, out of ideas and explanations, she ended up asking, “Why were you jealous of him?”

It took him a moment, but, eventually, Harry shrugged. 

And Lia frowned. 

“We… We’ve been over this so many times already,” she whispered. “I told you I never thought about him… That… That it was never about him. I told you, Harry. So many times.”

“I know.” He nodded. “I know you did.”

“Then why were you jealous? I don’t get it.”

“I don’t know, Lia. I wasn’t thinking, ok? I just… I don’t know. I just wanted to prove a point.”

Lia felt herself furrowing her brows even deeper, anger bubbling up inside her. “What point? That I like your mojitos?”

Harry scoffed, and if the whole situation didn’t mean so much to her, Lia would’ve laughed. Because, yes, it sounded ridiculous. 

“‘Course not, c’mon.”

“Then what?”

Harry sighed, but didn’t answer her. 

His silence bothered her. Him not looking at her eyes bothered her. Him not making himself clear bothered her. Lia wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, she really did, but fishing for answers didn’t feel fair. Not after what had happened. Not after the way he had treated her. 

Why couldn’t he just explain himself? 

If he wanted her forgiveness, why couldn’t he just talk to her?

“Harry,” she called, unable to hide the emotions behind her words, “will you please just look at me?”

Another sigh, and then he turned his head, looking at her while his body still faced the ceiling. 

With the dim brightness of the new day creeping into the room, it got easier to see him. To make out the details of his face. To find the forest-green of his eyes. 

And as soon as their gazes met, everything inside her softened. Because his own carried so much sadness, that it suddenly made sense he didn’t want to look at her — that he didn’t want her to look at him. 

All she wanted right then and there was to hold him and make him feel better, but she didn’t know and she didn’t understand what he needed to feel better about. And it was frustrating, to be honest. Because he knew so much about her. 

And Lia had opened to him and shared a lot, yes, but he also read her so well. And she couldn’t do the same with him. She couldn’t do the same for him. She couldn’t look at him and figure out what he needed to hear, or what she should do to make him feel better. She wanted to, but she couldn’t.

She just couldn’t.

“Talk to me,” she murmured, putting both hands under her cheek. “Please.”

He didn’t remove himself from inside her eyes, holding her stare as he murmured back to her, “It’s going to sound stupid.”

“It won’t.”

“Yes, it will.”

Lia shrugged. “Try me, then.”

Harry shook his head and looked back at the ceiling. He stood like that for a minute, both of them in silence while the room was filled by his heavy, deep breathing. 

God… Why were there suddenly so many things to fix? 

Why was it suddenly so hard for them to have a conversation?

“Don’t you think I deserve an explanation?” she tried. “To understand what’s going on… Or why you snapped at me that way?” 

Harry closed his eyes and nodded. “You do… Of course you do… It’s just…”

Silence.

Lia knew better than to push someone when they seemed to be trying to put words together inside their minds, so she waited. She watched, and waited. 

She waited while he rolled his tongue between his lips, while he frowned, and while he closed his hands into fists. She waited until it became clear that all of his thinking was becoming more painful than helpful, and then she decided it was time to intervene. 

“Hey,” she said, reaching one hand and placing it on his shoulder, “I’m starting to get worried, y’know?”

Harry sighed, and his muscles relaxed under her touch. Blinking his eyes open, he shuffled and turned, fully facing her again. Lia pulled her hand away, but before she could move it too far, he grabbed it between his fingers and took it to his chest. 

“Don’t be,” he murmured. “I’m just… I’m not like you, Lee. I don’t… I mean, I don’t know how to tell you what I’m thinking or how I’m feeling like you do. It’s not… It’s not easy for me.”

What the— 

Lia frowned. 

Was he seriously implying she was good at talking about her feelings?

“You know it’s not easy for me, either.”

He pulled one corner of his mouth up, so subtly it was almost impossible to notice, and brushed his thumb up and down the back of her hand.  

“I know you don’t see it this way, but you are way better at expressing yourself than I am. You’re just… I mean, so honest and open about being insecure, and about things that make you sad, and—”

“Harry, that’s not—”

“No, let me just say this, please.” He squeezed her hand, and Lia pressed her lips together. “Because I know you don’t see it, but you are, and I really admire you for that. I mean, I don’t know how to talk about my feelings like you do. I don’t even stop to think about my feelings like that… I’m always just… Going for things, I guess. I don’t know. Whatever I want, I don’t think about it, I just go for it, y’know?”

Huh… 

Lia blinked. 

Well, she certainly didn’t know what that was like, but it made sense, didn’t it? If she thought about their moments together, it made sense. Not thinking or worrying too much — or at all — before doing something… It sounded a lot like him, yes.

Nothing like her, but a lot like him. 

“So when I say that I can’t tell you what happened, or why I reacted that way, it’s not because I don’t want to tell you… It’s just… It’s because I really don’t know how to explain it… It’s like… Like I don’t know what was going through my mind… I just wasn’t thinking… I swear I wasn’t.”

Okay… 

Lia could understand that. Or at least she could see where he was coming from with that. 

For a long time, before therapy, Lia also used to believe she wasn’t thinking when she reacted to things. It took a lot of effort, time, and guidance from Dr. Reisman for her to learn that there wasn’t such a thing, and that her thoughts — the ones she thought she didn’t have — were in fact the ones driving her to the daily anxiety attacks she used to have.

Then once she became aware of them, it became easier to control things. Not easy, but easier. 

She still struggled a lot to stop the thoughts, sure, but at least she was aware of them. And she’d found ways to manage at least some. Not all, but some. 

She was halfway there, wasn’t she?

The most interesting part, though, was that she had never stopped to think about it. Not like that, at least — about how different it used to be in the past. And about how better she had gotten at it. Sometimes it was so difficult and exhausting in the present, that it was hard to see she’d improved at all. 

Technically, she knew she was better… She told herself she was better. All the time. She reminded herself that it wasn’t like it used to be, but she hadn’t felt the difference yet. Not like that, at least. Not so… Deeply, maybe? Or like it was part of her? Or like she could see it right in front of her? Like she could grasp the improvement between her fingers and own it? And do whatever she wanted to do with it?

She wasn’t... She wasn’t sure... It was hard to explain, but it was real... Very real. The difference, that is. It felt real now.

“And I’m not trying to say I wasn’t wrong, ok?” Harry added. “Or… I don’t know… Pretend I shouldn’t have thought before being such an asshole. Because I know I should have… I swear I know… And I know I fucked up and… Fuck, I know I hurt you. As soon as I looked at your face… That was just… I mean I really wish I could take it all back. Wish I could do everything differently… So I’m really sorry, Lia. I am. You have to believe how sorry I am, and that I—” 

“I know,” she said, squeezing her fingers around his. “I believe you. I know.”

Despite a tiny voice inside her mind telling her that she shouldn’t, Lia pulled her hand away from his grip, then placed it on his cheek. He closed his eyes, and she brushed her thumb up and down, eying the way his facial hair moved under her touch. 

“I hate that I did that to you,” he murmured.

And Lia believed he did, but she also wasn’t ready to let him know that. She wasn’t ready to let him know she was one step away from falling back into his arms, because she still wasn’t sure it was the right path for her to take. 

So, instead, she offered, “I know what you mean by not being able to explain what you were thinking.”

“You do?”

“Mhm… It wasn’t always like this for me, y’know? Took me years of… Of therapy… I had to learn how to understand what was going inside my head and what I was feeling and… It wasn’t easy… I mean, I’m still learning…” She shrugged. “So… Yeah. I get it. And it wouldn’t be fair for me to expect you to just… Know how to do it, y’know?”

Harry nodded, curling his mouth up.

“Maybe I could use some therapy sessions, then.” 

Lia’s mouth twitched up, too. “There would be nothing wrong with it if you did.”

She stroked his chin, enjoying the way his stubble scratched her thumb. 

“I know.” Blinking his eyes open, he looked at her for a moment, then grabbed her hand and slid it up to his mouth. He kissed the pad of her thumb, and kissed it again, before slowly taking their hands back to his chest and squeezing her fingers while he spoke. “Look, to be honest I don’t… I don’t think I ever did this before? Like… Talking about these kinds of things. I don’t think I… I ever had to? Or needed to? I don’t know… It’s just… I’m not used to it, I guess… Usually I’m the one listening or… I don’t know.”

“Well… It is usually harder for men to talk about it.” Lia shrugged. “At school I’ll see the difference between boys and girls even when they’re so young and it’s just so… Crazy, like… I sometimes don’t even know how it starts… When it starts… But suddenly one day most of the boys are trying to pretend they aren’t hurting while most of the girls are crying and talking non-stop about what happened to them… And we try to change that, y’know? For the boys, I mean… We try to teach them all about emotions and how to name their feelings and stuff but… Yeah… It’s not easy, so I think it’s— What? Why are you looking at me like this?”

Harry shrugged, smiling deeply into her eyes. 

“Nothing,” he said. “I like when you get all chatty, that’s all.”

Heat spread to her cheeks, and she chuckled, nervously. 

“Stop…”

“I mean it. I know I’ve said this before but… You don’t give yourself enough credit, y’know? For a lot of things, and you should. You’re so smart and—”

“Okay. You’re just trying to change the subject now.”

He laughed. “‘M not! I was just really happy listening to you… That’s all…”

“Right…” She swallowed, pulling her hand away from him and turning on her back. “Okay, forget about it.”

Tilting her head to the opposite side and looking through the window, Lia finally saw the different shades of orange lightening up the sky. She had no idea how long they’d been there, talking, and she still had no idea what time, exactly, it was, but at least now she knew the new day was officially starting.  

Which meant it didn’t even take her twelve hours to forgive him. 

Shit.

Was that the right move? 

Was that the right thing to do? 

Was she being naive? 

Was there something she couldn’t see between the lines? Behind his actions? 

Was she ignoring the red flags?

“Hey,” Harry said, placing his hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to change the subject. I just… I blurted out what was on my mind, that’s all… Which now I see is clearly something I need to work on…”

Lia pressed her lips together, trying her best to hold back a smile. 

God, she liked him so much.

“Also, I don’t want you to think I’m not taking what happened seriously,” he added, his voice getting as deep as his words felt. “I was listening to what you were saying, and I… It makes sense, yeah. I don’t think I was ever encouraged to talk about my feelings at home, but I can see that all of my sisters were and… Yeah, I mean, it makes sense. There’s a difference. I’m not sure if the difference back home has anything to do with gender, or if it’s because we have different dads, but… Anyway, yes, there’s definitely a difference. And see? I was listening.”

Lia closed her eyes.

God, there was just so much new information. 

Did she already know Harry’s dad wasn’t his sisters’ dad? She didn’t think so. She couldn’t remember talking about it with him. 

Was that also something she should’ve paid attention to? 

Was that something she had missed about him?

Oh God. 

See?

Too much new information.

“I promise I was listening,” he added. 

Lia sighed, then blinked her eyes open once again.

“I know you were, Harry,” she said, looking at the sunrise happening on the other side of her window. “This is just… It’s really weird for me, ok? I’m scared of… I don’t know, I mean… You really hurt my feelings last night… And that was just hours ago, but here I am now laughing with you and… And thinking about all these questions I’d like to ask about your family because I… Because I want to know more things about you and get to know you better, y’know? And it’s just… What if I’m… What if I’m forgiving you too easily? What if I’m moving on too fast from what happened?”

She turned her head, looking back at him. 

“I don’t want you to think that I’m okay with what you did, Harry. Or that I… I don’t know… That I’ll always forgive you when you hurt my feelings.”

Harry shook his head. 

“I promise— I promise that’s not what I think.”

“And just because I understand that you’re not comfortable or used to talk about your feelings and stuff, it doesn’t mean that I should just accept you treating me like that.”

“I know.” He nodded. “And you’re right.”

“I know I overreact a lot of times, but this time didn’t feel like overreacting. The things you said… I mean it was one thing when you didn’t know me, but now? You knew how much those words would hurt me, and you still said them.”

He groaned, then, turning his head into the pillow and closing his eyes. He stood like that for a moment, and then he looked back at her, his eyes almost pleading for her to believe him. “See, that’s the thing, babe. I wasn’t—I swear to God I wasn’t thinking.”

“Oh, c’mon.” Heat flushed through her body, and she could feel a wave of anger throbbing inside her chest. Not just bubbling, but pulsing. All through her veins. A feeling that she wasn’t very used to, and that she mostly ignored, but that seemed ready to explode. Ready to take over every inch of her. And that she wasn’t so sure she would be able to manage if it did. “Yes, you were thinking those things, Harry. You didn’t stop yourself from saying it, but you blurted out what was on your mind, didn’t you? So… You were thinking about it.”

“Yes, but… Ugh.” He shook his head, then rubbed one hand up and down his face. “I swear, I would never intentionally say those things to hurt you.”

“But you did, Harry!” She kicked her quilt away from her body and sat on her bed. “You put me on the spot when you asked about the mojitos, you pressured me when I couldn’t answer, and you made fun of me because I didn’t speak.” 

“I know,” he mumbled. 

“All those things I hate the most and that freak me out the most.”

“I know.”

“The things I talked to you about. That I cried to you about.”

“I know.”

“Did the cat…” She shook her head. “I can’t… Can’t even say it. That was just so mean.”

“I know. Fuck, Lia, I know.”

“Then why did you do it, Harry?”

“I don’t—”

“—If you knew about it—”

“—It wasn’t—”

“If you knew all these things and if you knew what those words meant to me, then why did you say them? Huh? Why?”

“Because, Lia!” He threw his hands up in the air and stared at the ceiling. “Because I’m immature and stupid, ok?! Because I wanted you to say that yes, you liked my mojitos better than Rohan’s. That’s all it was, ok? I wanted you to say yes, for fucks sake. That’s all.” 

Lia blinked at him. With wide eyes, rapid heartbeat and tight lungs. She just… Blinked.

Harry sighed, and surrounded by nothing but shocked silence, sat on the bed as well. Seconds went by as he pushed the covers away, with so much force that the quilt almost ended on the floor, and then shuffled back to lean his back against the headboard.  

Bending his legs, he rested his arms on his knees, then watched his hands while he entangled his own fingers together. 

And Lia just… Watched him. 

Because she hadn’t noticed it before, but Harry was wearing joggers. And a yellow t-shirt. And socks. 

For the first time since they’d started… Well, whatever what-they-had was, Harry was wearing clothes to bed. And it felt just so… Weird. Almost wrong. Like she wanted to ask him why and what are you doing and please take it all off.  

“It wasn’t because of you, Lia,” Harry said, voice much softer than seconds earlier, and Lia glanced back at his face. He was focusing on his fingers, as if he was reading words written on them. “I wasn’t… I wasn’t trying to hurt your feelings. I was just being selfish and trying to prove a point to Rohan. So I don’t… I don’t know… I just… Honestly it didn’t cross my mind that I was pointing those specific things out. I just… I figured if I pushed a little bit harder you would answer and say mine were better, that’s all. But because that’s what people usually do under pressure, y’know? Not because… I mean I wasn’t… It wasn’t personal. Fuck I know I’m an asshole for this, but I wasn’t thinking about how those words would affect you, personally… I swear I wasn’t trying to point out things you’re insecure about, Lia. I swear.”

She swallowed, then nodded, crossing her legs and grabbing a pillow to hold on her lap.  

“So…” Staring down at her own hands, she fiddled with the pillowcase, trying to focus her energy on something just so she could keep her voice — and herself — together. “So you completely forgot about me… And you forgot everything we ever talked about and… And you ignored my feelings to… To what? Prove your mojitos are better?”

“Fuck, no Lia…” 

She looked at him, catching the moment he dropped his head back and mumbled at the ceiling, “Of course not.”

“It is what you just said, Harry.”

“But that’s not— I mean I didn’t— I wasn’t— Jesus Christ…” He laughed, nervously, shaking his head and dropping it down. “Why is this is so fucking hard?”

Impatience took hold of her, and she rolled her eyes. “Harry… Why are you jealous of Rohan?”

Silence.

“You keep bringing him all the time.”

More silence.

“Even though I told you that I’m not interested.”

“He is, though,” he said, staring down and away from her. “You know he is.”

“So you don’t trust me, is that it?”

That got his attention, because he snapped his head up and looked at her again.

“What?”

“You think he’ll flirt with me and what? I’ll forget about you and bring him back here? Even though I said I don’t want him?”

“I don’t—”

“Do you really think I would do that to you?”

“No… Of course not… You’re not— Fuck… Again, this is not about you, Lia.”

“Oh my God, Harry! Then what is it about? Huh?! If it’s not about me, it’s not about mojitos… Then what the hell is it about?! Huh? What?!”

“Me, for fucks sake!” he snapped, right into her eyes. “Me, ok? It’s about me! Not you, not mojitos… Me, Lia. Me!”

He dropped his head between his arms and closed his eyes, turning his voice into a whisper, “Shit. It’s about me, for fucks sake.”

.

.

. 

Lia shut her mouth, and blinked. 

The early morning sun hit her back, and also Harry’s body, brightening him up even though there was not one single inch of him that matched the joyful and cheerful spirit of a new day. 

There was absolutely nothing she could say to him, though. Just like there was absolutely nothing she could do to react. She had a feeling he was as shocked about his outburst as she was. That he had not only just admitted something to her, but to himself as well. 

It wasn’t about her, and it wasn’t about the mojitos… It was about him. About Harry. 

That’s what he had said — but what did it even mean?

“Look,” he murmured, opening his eyes, but not moving any other inch of his body. “When we first met you at the bar we talked about you, ok? We were just being stupid, and it wasn’t supposed to mean anything, but you were pretty, and you were there by yourself, so after I got your order I mentioned something to him… And then we joked about who should come up to you and keep you some company or… I don’t know, something like that.” 

His voice was low, and slower than usual, as if he was using all the strength inside him to get his words out. And Lia didn’t want to risk saying something and ruining the moment, so she did nothing but sit there and listen to what he had to say.

“It was really, really stupid, but we decided that you wouldn’t date a guy like me, and that Rohan was your type.” He sighed, then immediately kept going, “That’s why he was the one who asked for your name, and that’s why he kept getting your orders. Then every time you would go to the bar, the joke between us was that he was your guy, not me, ok? And I think… I mean it wasn’t supposed to be like a real thing… But it just… It stuck somehow. It’s like it made sense, y’know? Because you were just… I mean, you would barely look at me… Or talk to me… But you would always smile and laugh with him, so…” He shrugged. “I mean, now that I know you Lee, I get that a lot of times we read things wrong, ok? But for a long time the joke between me and Rohan was that you were afraid of me, or that I made you nervous, or shit like that, and that the only person you felt comfortable with was him. So he would always be around to rescue you or something like that… I don’t know. It doesn’t even make sense when I say it out loud.” He shook his head, then dropped his shoulders. “Like I said, it was really stupid. And it was supposed to be a joke, y’know? We just… We spend so much time there and sometimes there’s not a lot to do and we just… I don’t know, turn into stupid people I guess. But, yeah, anyway… It’s stupid, but that joke stuck somehow. At least for me.”

He paused, taking a long, slow and deep breath in, and then added, “So last night, when I saw you laughing with him, I just… I asked about the mojitos but it wasn’t even about that, y’know? And I didn’t mean to put you on the post or make fun of you… And I swear I didn’t want to hurt your feelings… God I really didn’t want to hurt your feelings, Lee… I don’t want to be that guy… But I just… It was about me… I just wanted you to… I mean, I wanted you to say that…”

Harry shook his head, then sighed. “Fuck.”

Lia took a deep breath in, swallowing down hard as her throat grew tight and her eyes burned. 

Oh my God.

So… That’s what it was all about… 

Harry wanted her to say she preferred him over Rohan.

Right?

Or was she reading it wrong? 

No, no she wasn’t… 

It wasn’t about her saying his mojitos were her favorite, Harry wanted her to choose him over Rohan.

And it was so obvious. 

And yet she would have never imagined it. 

“Fuck,” he breathed out and chuckled, as nervously as she had never seen him. Taking his hands to the back of his head and tangling his fingers with his curls. “I can’t…”

“Harry…” She pushed the pillow to the side and crawled to where he sat, kneeling next to him. “Stop.”

“This is embarrassing—”

“No, it’s not—”

“—and really stupid—”

“Harry. It’s not. It’s really not.”

She couldn’t find any more words to say, though. All she could think about was how wrong Harry was. How wrong he had been all along. How he’d never noticed how deeply into him she was. How he didn’t know he was the only reason why she kept going at the bar over and over again, how he had no idea about how much she had thought about him, or about the things her body used to feel when she saw him there.

Lia had spent almost an entire year feeling turned on and fantasizing about Harry, and all along he’d been thinking Rohan was her type, and not him. 

She shook her head and sighed.

“Harry, listen to me. You have no idea how wrong you guys were about all this… I mean, the only reason why I used to go to the bar was to see you, ok? Not Rohan. You.”

Harry raised his head and turned it to the side, looking at her over his shoulder with a frown on his face.

“I’ve been so… Oh God… Please don’t laugh at me, but… I was sooo attracted to you… And I mean, from the very first day, okay?… It was—It was ridiculous, really… I had this stupid, but very real crush on you and… And I never really cared about Rohan… I mean I would talk to him because he talked to me, but… It was you, y’know?” She shrugged and chuckled. “God, I would even try to go on Wednesdays just because I knew Rohan wouldn’t be there and you’d be forced to talk to me… And… And even when Jillie and Molly went to the bar… I invited them because… Well, because I wanted them to meet you and—”

“You’re kidding me, right?”

“Of— Of course not… Why would I? I mean… That’s why I told you so many times that it was never about Rohan… Because, y’know… Because it wasn’t. And it still isn’t. It’s just… Well, you."

Harry blinked, flickering his eyes between hers, and then he murmured, “You told your friends about me?”

Lia tilted her head and shrugged, a smile growing at what he had chosen to focus on. 

“That I had a crush on you? Yeah.”

Harry flinched his chin back.

“Then why are you embarrassed to tell them about me now?”

And then Lia flinched her head back.

“Who said I’m embarrassed?”

“You lied to Molly… On the phone. You didn’t want to tell her about me.”

Oh…

Lia’s smile faded away, and she swallowed.

“You lied about spending time with me.”

“Well— I— Yeah, but… But it wasn’t because I was embarrassed of you, Harry. I— I never said I was embarrassed, did I?”

Harry shrugged. 

“Well, you didn’t have to. You just…”

“I just what?”

“There were little things, y’know?”

“What little things?”

“I mean you lied to your friends, you didn’t want to go anywhere with me, you wouldn’t let me drive you to work, you didn’t go to the bar anymore… Should I keep going?”

Oh God.

“And you thought… You thought all that was because I… Because I was embarrassed? Of you?”

Harry shrugged. “What else was I supposed to think?”

She opened her mouth, but then she closed it again.

Oh my God!

She’d never imagined those thoughts would cross Harry’s mind. Never.

All that time, Lia had thought he had been reading her mind. She was sure he understood why she was acting that way, that he knew she was too shy, too insecure, too afraid. She was sure he knew. That’s why she hadn’t said anything. 

Plus, he had never seemed bothered. Quite the opposite, in fact. Harry was always too understanding with her, he never made her feel bad about saying no, although she always ended up feeling bad anyway (but because she was, again, sure he would get tired of her dramas, not because she thought she was hurting him). 

Everything she’d done so far to keep them a secret, had always been related to her own flaws, and never about him. She never thought there was something wrong with him. 

If anything, as far as Lia knew, at any point Harry would end up leaving her because she wasn’t enough. Because he would get tired and embarrassed of her. And not the other way around. 

“I mean, it’s fine. We never talked about it, so… It’s not like you have to introduce me to everyone in your life if you don’t want to. Maybe you don’t plan on me staying around, or—”

“Harry, no, stop, stop.” She shuffled closer and reached for his arm, placing both hands on him to hold herself. “I didn’t— I wasn’t— Oh my God.” She shook her head, sitting on her heels. “I did all that just because… Because I don’t want you to be embarrassed of me, okay? I just… I mean, in my mind we’ll go out, then I’ll do something stupid and you’ll get tired of me and… And then you’ll leave me, okay? And because I’m freaking terrified of you leaving me, I keep trying to play it safe… That’s all. I just… There’s absolutely nothing wrong with you, I don’t want to hide you. And I’m not embarrassed. I mean, are you kidding me? That’s not—That doesn’t even make sense to me!”

Harry licked his lips, took a deep breath in, and eventually exhaled loudly through his nose. Staring into her eyes, he stretched his legs and let one hand fall to his lap, then took his other one to place Lia’s hair behind her ear. 

“Just like to me there’s absolutely nothing wrong with you, and it doesn’t make sense that I would leave you?” he asked, brushing her cheek with the back of his hand before he dropped his arm down. “Or that you would embarrass me?”

“I—That’s… It’s not—It’s not the same, okay? That’s just… That’s because we haven’t left the house. Because here it’s easy and you don’t have to deal with me freaking out or being extremely awkward every time something happens. I act like a child sometimes, okay? And it’s embarrassing.”

“Lee… C’mon… I wish you would stop putting yourself down so much—”

“Yeah, well, me too—”

“—But also, I wish you would give me the chance to prove you wrong, you know? ‘Cause I would love to be there, next to you, squeezing your hand so you stop overthinking. Or holding you so you don’t feel alone, or awkward, or whatever. I want to be there when you need someone… I just… I just want to be there for you, you know? Openly. Not just here. Everywhere.”

Lia blinked.

“Lee…” Harry tilted his head, the corner of his mouth curling up. “You’ve got me so wrapped around your finger, it’s almost ridiculous. I think you’re the only one who doesn’t see it… Sagey keeps teasing me about it every single night.”

She bit her lip, then looked down at his shoulder. 

“Sage knows about me.”

It wasn’t a question, because she knew Sage knew. She’d made it obvious at the bar, the night before. 

“She does, yeah. Since I asked her to cover for me that first night… And some other times.”

Lia nodded.

“But you didn’t tell Rohan.”

Harry shrugged. “I thought you didn’t want me to. Thought you didn’t want anyone to know.”

“I don’t mind people knowing.”

“Then why did you lie to your friends?”

“Because…” She sighed, then shuffled even closer and rested her forehead on his shoulder. When she spoke again, she made sure to turn her voice into just a shy murmur, “Because I’m afraid as soon as I tell them, this will end. And I don’t want this to end.”

He took one hand to the back of her head, gently entangling his fingers with her hair and scratching her scalp. “Lee, it’s not going to end.”

“You don’t know that, okay? You don’t know what will happen tomorrow, or next week, or next year. You just don’t.”

“Ok, fine… Maybe I don’t see the future, but I’m here right now, and I’m willing to stay. For as long as you’ll let me. Can’t you see that, at least? I mean, we’ve been doing this for two months now, and it might not seem like a lot of time to you but… I’m not playing around, Lee. I’m really not.”

Lia’s belly fluttered, and her chest expanded with a warm, joyful feeling that quickly, and easily, took over all of her body. She couldn’t help the smile, then, and as her face lit up with happiness, she placed her hand on his chest and leaned further into his shoulder.

To hear him say all that was exactly what she wanted. That he wasn’t playing around, that he wanted to stay. That he wanted to be with her. 

And she wanted to believe him — part of her already did, to be honest. But how could she be sure that she wasn’t being led on? How could she be sure that she wasn’t being too naive? That she wasn’t caving in and forgetting herself too easily? 

She sighed, and happiness just as quickly faded away from her face. 

“I did see that,” she admitted, resting her face on his shoulder and looking at her own hand, twisted around the yellow fabric on his chest. “So I told myself I should stop doubting so much, and I convinced myself to go to the bar. Thought you had already invited me enough times and I should stop freaking out about it… That it wouldn’t be so bad. And then… Well… Look where we are now.” 

Harry sighed, then took his hand to his face. 

Still resting on his shoulder, Lia caught the way he rubbed his fingers over his closed eyes, then followed the movement of his arm when he dropped it back to his lap. Almost defeated. 

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I really am. I don’t— I don’t even know what to say. I hate that I can’t take it back. Last time should’ve been completely different. And I just… I don’t want you to think this is who I am. Or that this is something that could happen again… I mean I should… I should’ve mentioned there was something bothering me… Things kept building up and I…” He paused, then shook his head. “I don’t think I realized how much things were bothering me until tonight. When I saw you with Rohan I just… I guess I just lost it. I don’t know. He was just all over you and I know how adorable you get when you’re all shy and blushing and… I just hated the thought of you being there with him and not with me. And I hated even more that I couldn’t do anything about it.” 

“But I wasn’t—”

“I know.” Harry nodded, looking at the bedroom door. “I know. It made sense when I thought you didn’t want people to know about me. Now it sounds just stupid. I was stupid… I’m sorry.” 

Lia didn’t know what to say anymore. Everything felt too messy to see any rights or wrongs. Harry’s words at the bar still felt unforgivable, but now she also couldn’t imagine what must’ve felt for him all those times he thought she didn’t want people to know about him. That she was embarrassed of him.

So even though she was supposed to be mad, and even though she was supposed to stand up for herself and let him know that she couldn’t be with someone who could treat her like that, she also felt conflicted with guilt. Because she hadn’t treated him fairly either. She knew she hadn’t. 

And it wasn’t even a matter of him twisting the facts, or the truths, to make her feel guilty. It was him letting her know how her own actions had led him to believe she didn’t want to be seen in public with him. Which was exactly what she feared the most from others. Which was exactly what she feared the most from him.

Wasn’t that crazy?

With a sigh, Lia snuggled even closer to his body. Except her chest was already pressed against his side, his elbow poking her stomach and her cheek sinking on his shoulder, so there wasn’t any way to get closer than she already was. 

Which really sucked, because it didn’t feel enough. 

But then Harry must’ve noticed her fidgeting, because he moved his arms to circle her waist in a gentle hug, then tugged her onto his lap. 

Lia climbed on him eagerly, but also shyly. Hiding her face on his neck and hugging him back as much as she could while her knees rested on each side of his hips.

Harry squeezed his hold around her, too, crushing her into his chest like he wanted to make sure no inch of her could slip away. 

“I’m really, really sorry, Lee,” he murmured.

Lia nodded, then moved to press a kiss to his neck. 

It was the first and only thing her instincts told her to do, and it ended up feeling more meaningful than any word she could say. Not only for her, but for Harry, too, because he relaxed underneath her. So deeply that it was easy to feel the way all his muscles loosened up as he breathed out loudly through his nose. Like the heaviest weight had been lifted off. 

And because he seemed to like that so much, and because he seemed to be needing affection so badly, Lia kissed him again. And again. And then she slid her hands to the back of his neck and sat a little more upright on his lap, and kissed him again. And again. And again. 

Harry sighed and squeezed her sides, head tilting to the side as he offered her more space and more skin to explore. A silent invitation that Lia took as encouragement to keep going, of course. Making sure to skim her lips over those unshaved spots she loved so much, but also trying her best to offer some reassurance with her words. Wanting things to be as clear as possible for him. 

“I’m not playing around, either,” she murmured. “And I’m not embarrassed of you, okay? I swear I’m not.”

She brushed her nose up and down his throat, taking his natural scent in before parting her lips and kissing him again. Making it just a little bit wetter and just a little bit needier than before.

Harry hummed, then, dropping his head back and letting his hands fall to the curve behind her bent knees. As if his body had lost all the strength. For once and for all. 

Everything inside her quivered at his reaction. It felt so good to have him melting like that because of her. So, so good, that she couldn’t bring herself to stop. So she kissed him again, and again, raking her fingers through the back of his head while moving to the other side of his throat and pampering him all over again. Through his jaw, his temple, and his cheek. Kissing all over that beautiful, beautiful face. 

“You have to believe I don’t want him, tho,” she said. “And that I wouldn’t do that to you… I wouldn’t be with you and… And then flirt with him, or go out with him or… Or I don’t know… Anything like that.”

Pressing one last kiss under his ear, Lia got taller on her knees and tilted her chin down, watching him as she towered him.

Harry didn’t even try to hide how much he was enjoying all the attention, sitting at her mercy with his head dropped back and his eyes closed. Breathing deeply through his nose. Chest moving up and down faster and heavier each second. 

It made her body tingle, and heat spread from head to toe. 

“Not only him,” she added, and then swallowed — unable to hide how affected she was by the mere sight in front of her, “but anyone else… I could never do something like that… I promise I wouldn’t. You believe that, right?” 

Harry opened his eyes, landing straight into her stare. Intense green eyes  burying into her as he licked his lips and swallowed, then finally spoke again. “Yes. I trust you. I know you wouldn’t.”

“Good.” She curled her lips up, stroking the back of his head while she turned her voice into a playful tone. “Because, I mean… I can barely make things work with one guy… There’s no way I could ever date two at the same time.”

Harry’s mouth curled up in slow motion, offering the softest and kindest smile before he shook his head and broke into laughter. 

The room lit up with the joyful sound, and Harry suddenly sat upright, causing Lia to yelp and lose her balance. He quickly placed his arms around her waist, though, keeping her safe and close to him as he dropped their bodies onto the mattress and flipped them over. 

Lia fell on her back with a quiet gasp, hair all tangled on her face as Harry crawled to lay on top of her. 

“Thank God for that,” he teased, lips stuck in the same happy smile while he held his upper body on one elbow and used his other hand to help her get rid of the curtain hiding her eyes. “And I would rather if you don’t even try, to be honest… Keep this just between us… Told you I’m not good at sharing.”

Lia nodded, once again meeting his stare. “And I told you you’re not… Sharing me.”

“Mhmm…” Harry nodded, too, then leaned down and brushed their noses together. “You did, yeah…” He took his hand down to her hips and sneaked it under her t-shirt, pulling the fabric up as he settled and squeezed around her waist. “All mine, right?”

Another nod, although more meaningful this time. Slower. Calculated. A nod that came along with the touch of her hands sliding up his neck, then finding the perfect spot around his jaw to cradle his face between her palms. 

“All yours,” she murmured.

Harry’s smile got bigger, and Lia brushed her thumbs up and down his cheeks, watching him flutter his eyes shut for a moment. When he focused back on her, they only stared at each other for one second before  she drifted her gaze to his mouth. And then he leaned in, his nose cozying next to hers as he pressed his lips to hers so gently that Lia was afraid her imagination was painfully tricking her. 

Everything was real, though. Very real. She felt it deeply in her core when he barely pulled back to speak again. His voice suddenly low, thick and slow. Suddenly full of intention. Suddenly full of determination. 

“Can I show you how much that means to me, then?” he asked, moving his hand up to her ribcage. “Can I show you how much I appreciate you? And how sorry I am for what I did?”

Lia swallowed, and nodded. Apparently incapable of reacting any other way. 

“Yeah? You sure?” he teased, capturing her lips for a new kiss. A slow kiss. A very soft and a very calm kiss. A kiss that matched the relief and affection of his touch as he traced underneath her breast with his fingertips and drifted his nails across her skin. 

A kiss that had Lia closing her eyes and sliding her hands to the back of his head while her entire body crumbled underneath him. And a kiss that eventually had her parting her mouth and whispering the only thought crossing her mind, “You can do whatever you want.”

Harry’s lips turned into a smirk against her mouth, but he never pulled away. Nor gave her time to regret her sincere words as he moved his hand further up her chest and sped things up.

From then on, Harry remained true to his word. He kissed her and touched her like he meant it. He made her sigh and throb like he owned her. And he made her feel like she was the most precious thing he’d ever had. 

He made up for all the tears, and for all the pain. He made up for all the hurtful words. 

He rewrote his mistakes as he whispered sweet things to her ear. As he praised her body, her actions, her sounds. 

And he proved his point of how much he appreciated and how much he wanted her to be his. Over and over again. 

His, his, his, and only his. 

“You’re mine, ok?” he grunted when he was already lost and deep inside her, holding her down and snapping their hips together as words kept rolling out his mouth. “All mine… Every… Single… Part of you… Ok?... Ok?”

And Lia was so far gone that she couldn’t even think about an answer. But she knew she was. 

She knew she had been his since the very first day she’d met him. And she knew it was too late for her to pretend she hadn’t been thoroughly consumed by everything she felt for him. By all of the fantasies that had eventually come true. And by the reality that had turned out to be even better than any scenario she’d ever dreamed.  

She was his. Of course she was. Harry’s, Harry’s, Harry’s. Every single inch of her. His. And only his.

And as Lia shivered and the bubble of pleasure finally burst inside her, the only thing left for her to hope was that she wasn’t making a fool of herself.

And that Harry was only hers, too. 

[the-daiz]

When you’re sick | One punch man

Synopsis; How the one punch men would act when you’re bed ridden

genre: fluff, hc

Characters: Saitama, Genos, Speed-o’-sound sonic, flashy flash, Zombieman, Garou

side note; My… my hands… wont… stop typing… save me…. I’m gonna hibernate after this post

SAITAMA

Shockingly takes very good care of you

he’s a mundane guy that lives alone and needs to take care of himself, so I’d assume he’s gotten his fair share of sick days

He’ll be softer and more careful with his words

He lets you huddle up in his futon, even if he’s a little annoyed cuz now he needs to find somewhere else to sleep,

he still wants you to be close to him so he can look out for you

makes you lotssss of tea and warm meals

and bananas! (Saitama loves bananas)

he knows all the foods to avoid when you’re sick, ex: eggs

he’ll probably spend most of his day sitting next to you while he watches tv or talks to you about something

doesn’t leave the house to do any hero work so he can stay by your side

like I said before, he takes veryyy good care of you until you feel better

GENOS

oh gets really worried

a little bit frantic even, but he doesn’t let it show

does a shit ton of research about your illness/symptoms and how to take care of it

Consults dr kuseno

who of course gives him a lot of advice

he’s hella dotting

Like fr he doesn’t leave your side

despite being an S-class hero, unless its an absolute emergency, he DOES NOT LEAVE YOUR SIDE

Will make sure you take your medication exactly on time

Prepares gourmet type meals for you

Also expect a lot of broth, soup etc etc

Will offer you any form of physical affection you want. Since he’s a cyborg he doesn’t get sick, so will cuddle you all day without complaints if thats what you’d like

He’s constantly checking up on, his cool metal hand pressed gently on your forehead while his mechanic eyes inspect your frame, a small frown etched on his temple.

he’s so cute kms

SPEED OF SOUND SONIC

He knows how to take care of you

he’s gotten sick PLENTY of times, it never lasted long though because his immune system is simply goated

That being said, he’s very… awkward?

he’s concerned and worried, don’t get me wrong, but he’ll probably try to hide it

His words won’t reassure you much but his actions will!

He’ll drop off supplies like medication, food, herbs, or anything else you need, whether you mention it or he decides you need it anyway.

he’ll check up on you a lot, and he’ll try to stay nearby to make sure your safe

but honestly, you having to rely on him when you’re vulnerable makes him feel prideful

he doesn’t admit it, but he kind of likes having you sick, just a tinsy bit

FLASHY FLASH

Oh god

of course he’s terribly worried about you

very aloof about it though

I’ll start with the cons: He’s sort of emotionally distant, and offers very little emotional support, and he won’t try sticking by your side as often as the other characters

Now that that’s out of the way,

He does make sure you have everything you need, and if he’s not with you, probably because he’s doing some hero work, he’ll text you or call very occasionally to ask how you’re doing and if you need anything

If you do mention that you’re feeling worse, he’ll be right by your side in an instant

ZOMBIEMAN

He’s very down-to-earth and calm about it

He won’t fuss over it or worry too much in the slightest

He’ll take good care of you, bringing you meals in bed, drink lots of fluids and getting enough rest

he’ll focus on making you as comfortable as possible too

He’ll leave for hero work every once in awhile, thats unless you’re really sick, then he’ll stay rooted beside you without another word

He’ll spend a lot of time just sitting or laying next to you. If you’re uncomfortably hot and would probably not want him to sleep beside you, he’ll sit on a chair and quietly hold your hand.

If you want him to talk, he’ll talk, and if you don’t, he’ll sit wordlessly without complaints.

he’ll probably crack a joke here or there if the mood is too damp

also, he’ll offer lots of forehead kissess

GAROU

He’s a little rough around the edges, but he’s got the spirit! 😍😍

this lone wolf isn’t used to taking care of people, let alone himself

He’ll probably tell you to just walk it off, but his protective instincts will kick in anyway

he’ll try to stay by your side as much as possible

he’ll grumble and act like he’s annoyed, but he really isn’t

he’s a little harsh, probably giving you some weird motivation like “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger” or smth

he’s genuinely concerned for you though, just be patient with him, he’s trying

[salmonskinrolltf]

Soulmates 2

[Here's a sequel of sorts to my previous story Soulmates (you don't need to have read it to understand this story). With thanks to @guytransformedforever, @beardobession, @tf-vigilante, @maletransformationlover, @clevertreephilosopher, @scorpionofredsand, and @maletffanatic for providing the photos used as inspiration.]

Hello, my name is Tyler. This is me:

And this is my roommate, Dylan:

Now look, I don’t have a problem with gay people. My cousin is a lesbian. And Dylan is a great roommate. Stays out of my way when we’re not gymming together, but is always down to hang when I need someone to talk to. I just wish he would be less in my face with all his gay shit. Rainbow flags everywhere, blasting Ariana Grande at all hours, constantly bringing new Grindr hookups back to the apartment but giving me side-eye when I ogle women. It’s just… too much for me.

Here’s the thing. I might actually be able to change that. I have this friend Evan, who I’ve wingmanned for on a few occasions over the past year. One night, when we were getting drunk together, he shared his secret with me. He has a magic gift. He clasped my hand and said “tomorrow, you will wake up and have this magic too.” And sure enough, the next day I could feel a tingle coursing through my veins, and I automatically had the knowledge of how to channel it.

Now I have the ability to change somebody’s future. I can’t fiddle with anything that’s innate or has already happened to them. Like, I can’t just make Dylan straight. But I can shape his future decisions or actions, and my magic will make alterations to speed the process along. Like if I made him decide to work out more, he would basically become a muscle beast within the week. Not that I’d do that. I still gotta be the alpha here. I just want to make him a little more… palatable. Someone cool to kick back with all the time, even if he sucks dick. Let’s see... I think I know what will work.

TOMORROW, DYLAN WILL BECOME OBSESSED WITH SPORTS

———————————

Hello, my name is Dylan:

Sports are my LIFE. I never cared about them much growing up, but about a month ago I felt the urge to join my local queer volleyball team and never looked back. It became my everything. It’s been great exercise, but on top of playing volleyball and getting totally jacked off of it, I’ve loved the sense of camaraderie. I love my team. So much so that I even pierced my nipples on a dare when we lost the semifinals. My teammate River also recommended I stop dyeing my hair, and I think the look is really working for me. For some reason, even though it’s only been a month, my hair has grown out significantly since then. Was the red dye stunting its growth or something? Anyway. I also feel like my roommate Tyler and I have really bonded. We’ve been watching baseball games together and I think he appreciates how into it I am. He says he’s excited to bro out while watching football together in the fall.

I love Tyler, but here’s the thing. Maybe I love him too much. I’ve always had this huge crush on him, and no matter how many random Grindr hookups I try to distract myself with, I just can’t stop hoping that one day he’ll give up women for good and decide he loves me. Especially now that we’re spending all this time together, bumping chests when our team wins and shit.

I know us getting together is never going to happen, but I have this… temptation. I was born with a gift. Or maybe I wasn’t. Something my twink friend Paul told me made me think maybe he had something to do with it. Anyway, I have the ability to reshape someone’s past. I change just one thing about their past, and everything about their present just ripples forward to reflect that change. It’s a delicate art. Changing something big can have huge effects that are totally unpredictable. It’s a major temptation to make Tyler gay, but who knows how he’d turn out. Plus, I think that’s just too invasive.

But… Maybe I could change something small about him. Something that would make him less my type, and allow me to move on and focus on finding a boyfriend who would actually be into me. I’m into nice guys. I really love how kind and caring he is. And come on, he’s a FIREFIGHTER. So maybe I can try…

TYLER GREW UP SELFISH AND SPOILED

———————————

What’s up, I’m Tyler.

You dig the jacket? Yeah, I’m still a firefighter, I’m just off duty. But babes dig whatever look I rock, you know what I mean? I get what I want, and what I want is a lot of one night stands. I know how to get ‘em, too. I’m so glad I made the decision to grow this beard out a year ago, it’s opened so many doors for me. And opened a lot of legs.

I’m getting what I want from Dylan, too. Finally, I have a roommate who’s willing to grab brews and watch the game with me. But I think I fucked up when I changed him. Queer volleyball isn’t exactly “sports,” at least not in my book. I thought he’d come out like a linebacker or something! I mean, nipple rings were never part of the plan. The gay guys seem to really go for them, too, so he’s got an even steadier stream of Grindr hookups coming in and out of the place.

On top of that, I’m a little sick of his shit. He’s always giving me lip about stupid stuff like leaving my dishes in the sink or dropping my unwashed uniform on the bathroom floor. He says it’s unsanitary. Like his parade of twinks aren’t dying to sniff that shit anyway. He just doesn’t get it. I think his volleyball teammates are a bad influence too. They’re all so obsessed with aesthetic and anti-hetero rhetoric. I still can’t make him straight, but I can definitely make him less… annoying.

TOMORROW, DYLAN WILL START HANGING OUT WITH MORE STRAIGHT PEOPLE WHO WILL HELP HIM STOP WORRYING ABOUT STUPID SHIT AND BE LESS PRISSY, WELL-GROOMED, AND UPTIGHT

———————————

Yo, I’m Dylan.

Yeah, I cut my hair shorter than the last time you saw me. The upkeep was just getting to be too much, y’know? A couple weeks ago, about the time I dumped that lame-ass volleyball team I was on, I just got bored with shaving every day, too. I invested in a trimmer and now I rock the stubble look, and it’s working for me. I’ve gained a bit of weight since then, and it’s all for the better because I joined my local football league. Having a few extra beers with my new buds afterward just adds to my potential as a linebacker, anyway.

I thought hanging out with more straight people would make me get used to their vibe and kinda inoculate me against Tyler, but I’m still totally obsessed with him. He’s more of a bad boy now, but I’m finding that less unappealing than I used to. Plus, he’s still parading around in his uniform all the time. I can’t help it! I’ve jerked off more times that I can count to his Mr. June photos in the local firefighter calendar.

Whenever I see his mom, she’s constantly going on about how, out of all his Tonka toys growing up, the fire truck was always his favorite. She thinks that’s why he grew up to be a firefighter. Maybe I can change that core memory into something a little more… disreputable. That would definitely make him not my type anymore. I hope.

TYLER’S FAVORITE TOY GROWING UP WAS A TONKA MOTORCYCLE

———————————

Fuckin’ A, man, I’m Tyler.

God, I love my hog. She’s a beaut, ain’t she? My parents wanted me to grow up to be a doctor or a lawyer or a firefighter or some shit, but all I ever wanted to do was ride my hog. Chicks want to ride my hog too, and I let them. As long as they don’t go near my bike! Hahaha, get it? Fuck, I love life. Let me take another drag on this stogie real quick.

Where was I? Oh yeah, my roommate, Dylan. I wish I didn’t have to room with anyone, but my boss at the garage keeps refusing to promote me. I should knock him around one of these days, see if that changes his mind. Anyway, sure, Dylan isn’t so much of a priss anymore. He doesn’t give me shit if I leave my grease-stained clothes on the couch or light up when we’re watching a football game.

But I wanted him to be straight-acting, you know? I tried to train him up as my wingman but he wore a super gay shirt with all these see-through holes to the party, and all the chicks kept their eyes on him the whole time! Fucker. Why can’t he be more like his brother? I’ve seen pictures. That dude is a full on redneck slob, got a Confederate tattoo and everything. I know they had the same backwater-ass trailer trash upbringing, why can’t he be rougher around the edges? You know what… maybe he can!

TOMORROW, DYLAN WILL REALIZE HE WANTS TO EMBRACE HIS WHITE TRASH UPBRINGING

———————————

Hey y’all, I’m Dylan.

Hoo-ee, life has been good lately. I dunno why I resisted my good ol’ boy roots for so long. This goatee really makes me look rugged, dunnit? Also the chest hair. So grabbable. I decided to stop shaving my body, and poof! There it went. A full rug, within like two days I reckon. Like a sign from God. This is how I was always meant to be.

I know I was trying to push away my crush on Tyler by making him not my type, but what’s the fuckin’ point? I need someone who can handle me, and this hot as fuck biker dude I’ve created might be the only one who can handle me at this point. I ride ‘em rough and bareback, just like the horses back home, and weak city dudes just can’t handle it.

Will he be the same if he’s not straight? Maybe not. But as long as he can take my eight inches, I’ll keep him around. I vaguely remember having some sort of compunction about changing him so drastically, but I’m too horny to remember what it was.

Fuck it.

TYLER WAS BORN GAY

———————————

Uh… hi. I’m Tyler. Who are you again?

Sorry, I’m pretty forgetful. Daddy Dylan says I don’t gotta remember shit though, as long as I let him ride me as rough and as long as he likes. He’ll do all the rest for me. He tells me where to go, what to do, who to do. There are so many nice, hot guys who are willing to pay our rent if I turn a few tricks. I love it.

I’ve been like this as long as I can remember. My mom and dad kicked me out when I was 18, in my senior year of high school. I was caught sucking my English teacher’s dick behind the locker rooms. I never went to college after that, but it’s not like I was getting good grades anyway. Sucking Mr. Brentmon’s cock wasn’t for my health, you know. He had a nice juicy one, too. I still dream about it sometimes.

What was I saying? Oh yeah, I took up with this biker gang for a while after getting kicked out. I’ve always had a thing for bikers. But once they got through using my ass, they got bored. It was hard for a while, but now things are oh, so easy. I get all the dick I could ever want. I have a roof over my head, and no job to worry about. All I do is go to the gym and eat and fuck and I never have to think. Dylan said he might take me out muddin’ sometime too. I don’t know what that is, but anything Dylan does is fun. Fuck, I love the way his goatee tickles my skin when he kisses me, so rough, so manly. Way manlier than I’ve ever been. It’s so fucking hot. I love how he takes care of me.

I really have no complaints. I wouldn’t change anything about my life, even if I could remember how…

[the-coffeeaddict-tim-drake]

Tim Drake Fics On A03

These are my list of Tim Drake fics on A03. It has everything. Angst, fluff, funny sibling relationship, family fluff, The core four etc... There are few TimKon fics thrown here and there too. Have fun.

Tim Drake (Doesn't) Drink Coffee by BabblingBookends

Every year, Tim goes on a caffeine detox for a month and has to deal with the resulting withdrawal symptoms. He doesn't tell the rest of the Bats about this, because, uh, reasons!

Bang, bang by Ididloveyou_once

‘You shot me!’ Jason gasped, stunned, ‘Holy shit, you actually shot me.’

Tim’s eyes widened and he froze. They stared at each other for a second, dumbstruck and then-

‘Don’t tell Bruce.’

Or: The family enjoy a normal movie night. Except Jason has a gunshot wound and Tim’s the only one who knows and oh- that’s because Tim’s the one who shot him and they really, really need to find a way to leave before anyone finds out.

Play it Again by Jazz020

The manor feels too quiet without music. Tim and Damian bond over music.

Send to All by kerosceene

I, ___________________________, hereby acknowledge that this form represents my wishes should I contract phytoaphrodisiac-induced delirium (hereafter referred to as “PAID”) during engagements with or while apprehending Dr. Pamela Lillian Isley (“Poison Ivy”).

-

The bats have a sex pollen release form. Because of course they do.

This is on of the most funniest batfam fic I have ever read.

four brothers, one crush, and absolutely zero brain cells to be found by Ms_Trickster

Tim: i need to know what’s the best way to a boy’s heart 

Damian: Easy. The best way to someone’s heart is through their ribcage. Everyone knows that. 

Damian: Come on Timothy, I expected better from you. 

Dick: I-

Dick: Try again

-

Tim is having boy troubles.

Tim goes to his brothers for help.

Tim...did not think that plan of action through.

(In which the batbros give Tim advice on relationships, told entirely through texts.)

Their sibiling relationship is too damn funny.

Home by sElkieNight60 

“Why didn't you call home?” the Red Hood is scolding him, bizarrely making his head spin with how unreal everything suddenly seems. “Why didn't you call Dad? You've been missing for three days and he is losing his mind―he thinks you've been kidnapped again―everyone has been pulling double runs all over the city trying to find you! You fucking disappeared! Seriously, Baby Bird, give us one good reason why we shouldn't drag your ass back home right now and have Dad bench you until the end of all days!?”

The two vigilantes are staring at him equal parts furious and equal parts relieved, but there must be some kind of mistake, because:

“Who is Tim?”

Only A03 users can read this fic.

Cork Board Contingencies by PrinceJakeFireCake

If you don’t use a cork board to obsessively plan contingencies for every possible way a date with your best friend can go, how can you go on a date at all?

Excerpt: “Are you free next Saturday?” Tim asked, pretty sure that Kon’s jumble of words was agreement that he wanted to date Tim.

“Maybe!” Kon exclaimed.

“Cool,” Tim commented, taking another sip of his drugged grape soda (“Dammit, Tim,” he mentally told himself. “Do not give in! Buy new grape soda! Stop drinking the drugged grape soda! I’ve shotgunned another can of drugged grape soda, haven’t I? Dammit, that makes five!”) then saying, “That gives me just enough time to pass out for fifty-two hours and plan our first date.”

Bloodlines by chibi_nightowl for exiled-one (mistralle)

“Mr. Drake, I can’t think of a better way to say this, so I’ll just be blunt. This file is for your first adoption. By the Drakes.” 

Tim blinked. “My what?” 

“You were adopted as a newborn by Jack and Janet Drake.” 

“Excuse me, but what the fuck are you talking about?”

No words. This fic is just mind blowing.

fill in the blanks by mindshelter

“You?” Tim blurts. Holy shit. “You’re Kon?”

A nod. “Are you in any pain?” he asks again.

Kon’s skin is sun-kissed, cheekbones dusted with a fine smattering of freckles; he is, without exaggeration, the prettiest person Tim has ever seen. “No, I’m—great,” he says, fidgeting. “Do you, uh, come here often?”

Kon raises a brow. “To the medbay?” he intones. “Definitely more often than I’d prefer.”

Road Rage Robin by heartslogos 

"I'd be doing humanity a favor." Tim grinds out, "And I would get away with it. I could totally get away with it. I've done worse."

Only A03 users can read this fic

Liberal Usage of the Bro-Code by heartslogos for protagonistically (the_protagonist)

“You’re never going to guess who’s blood is on my shirt – similarly, this is not my shirt but these are my pants.”

Only A03 users can read this fic.

Here's a Reminder (That You Haven't Fallen Through the Cracks) by popsunner

If it’s a salesperson, he’ll shove them a hundred dollar tip and tell them to go away, if it’s some religious do gooder, he’ll direct them to Metropolis. If it’s a Rogue, he’ll tell them he’s busy and to please get in the fucking line. If it’s one of his siblings--

“Hey, Tim!” Dick says brightly, forearm braced against the doorframe.

Dammit.

i totally don't have amnesia by impravidus for odd_izzy

Based on this john mulaney bit: “I also think it's weird in movies when someone has amnesia and they wake up in the hospital. A lot of times they'll be surrounded by friends and family, but when they open their eyes they go "Who are you?" Because that's not how you act when you don't recognize somebody. That's very rude. It would be chaos out there if every time you saw someone you didn't recognize, you went, "Who are you?" I always try to be really polite in life, so like if I had amnesia, you'd never know it. I'd wake up and they'd be like "Hi John, we're so happy you're awake." And I'd just be like, "Oh, hey, man, how's it going?", "Oh, hey, dude, nice to see you again." because that's how you act when you can tell that someone recognizes you and you have no fucking clue who they are.”

Detective Timothy Drake and the Mysterious Case of the Unclaimed Dildo by JpegDotJpeg

Tim had a lot of experience with problem solving. Every goddamn day he was solving problems. There was no shortage of problems in Tim’s life. He’d learned how to deal with overbearing parents, underbearing parents, malfunctioning equipment, in-team conflict, lawsuits, emotional breakdowns, financial difficulty, broken ribs, ill-timed boners, and a whole host of other bizarre, anxiety-inducing, or life-threatening issues that plagued his existence.

None of them had prepared him for finding a dildo in the dishwasher.

I had so much fun reading this.

Little Overlooked Dreams by Lunette3002 for Marzue

Tim weighed his options. He was alone at night in some alleyway in Gotham. He had nothing except the clothes left on the ground by someone and the cloak wrapped around his skinny shoulders. His camera was nowhere in sight. His backpack was gone too.

He brought the device to his ear. “Hello?”

Whatever talking had been on the other end of the line immediately cut off at his hesitant greeting.

“Who is this?”

Family Photos by KelpieCodyne 

“I thought you quit your photo stalking?”

“In my defence, I never said I was quitting, and you never asked if I would,” Tim immediately counters. “So really, this is kind of on you.”

Just because Tim became a bat, doesn’t mean he stopped taking photos of bats. Several times Tim took photos of the batfamily, and one time they took photos of him.

One of my all time favorite fic. And only A03 users can read this fic too.

picture perfect memories by Fandom_Trash224 

“I… require assistance with something. I believe you are best-suited for it.”

Tim raises an eyebrow, but motions for the younger boy to enter his room. As Damian does, he slowly closes the door behind him, and Tim notices a small piece of what Tim assumes to be paper in Damian’s hand. Then, he realizes it’s not just a piece of paper: it’s a photo.

Damian approaches Tim, holding out the photo at arm’s length once he’s close enough to do so, saying, “I would like you to explain this photo to me.”

Tim glances down at it, and to both his surprise and mild horror, he recognizes the photo.

Only A03 users can read this fic.

Biphasic Reaction by renecdote

People may have allergic reactions all the time and be fine, but they can also die from them. He has a flash of sudden, morbid curiosity about what the exact statistics for fatal allergic reactions are.

Only A03 users can read this fic.

miles and miles (in their shoes) by JUBE514

Where is Damian? Why can’t he see anything clearly? Where is the little brat? Damian had been by him in the cave when everything had exploded, they had been arguing like always when the two of them had gotten the punishment to go clean the trophy room, stop yelling at each other, stop being at each other's throat for two minutes and go clean the goddamn trophy room-

They had been cleaning, got into another knock out drag out argument, and it had come so close to blows and they had been screaming more than cleaning and-

The stupid fucking shoe, in the magical section- exploded out-

--

Tim and Damian switch bodies, the two of them realize exactly why the other does the things they do.

The Waynes, Damsels in Distress by hitthedeck

Roses are red, violets are blue, Bruce Wayne and his kids get kidnapped every other week. Some things are just universal, undeniable facts of life.

Or, in which Bruce Wayne is still Batman and his kids are still Robins, but they keep letting themselves get kidnapped because they think it's funny.

Have You Seen My Kids!? by Cute_Bear

Five Times Bruce's kids interrupted him as Bruce Wayne and One Time they interrupted him as Batman with the Justice League.

This is not Tim - centric, but it has really nice batfam fluff.

ten cents richer by Ms_Trickster

You either die a hero, or you live long enough to see yourself become the villain.

That’s how the saying goes. Take enough punches from the universe and eventually it becomes harder and harder to pop back up, to see the worth in fighting back, to stop yourself from turning around and delivering some punches of your own.

Tim never wanted to become the villain—

“Appendicitis,” Tim breathed in disbelief. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

—but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t tempted to burn the world to ashes when shit like this kept happening to him.

A Saturday Evening by malcyon

Jonathan shrugs, catches the expression still on Tim’s face. “We did throw out the cyanide.”

“Only because it expired.”

“Marty.”

“Well, it did.”

*****

Kon invites Tim over for dinner. Tim's not sure if he should have accepted that invitation.

unfurl by shipyrds

"Hey, Dick," Tim says. He's in costume, and fiddling with his gloves, but he doesn't remove his mask: nervous, and trying to hide it. "You've had sex with aliens, right?"

"I'm not going to like where this is going, am I?" Dick says, resigned.

"How did you deal with the whole. Junk situation," Tim says, in his best professional Mission Report voice. Its success is kind of undermined with how red his face is below the domino. — Tim asks some questions. Bruce and Clark come to some realizations.

The Conner Kent Conspiracy Board by Hayleythewriter

Tim figures out Kon’s feelings before Kon does.

His Baby by Musafir

Bruce once made Tim a promise that he would never break, just have to reaffirm later in life.

“Hi Tim. I’m Bruce and I am always going to be here for you.”

Banshee In A Well by liverobinreaction (bugbee)

Tim is five years old when he drowns in his parents' pool. He dies quietly, waiting for parents who love him, but will never be there, to realise that something is wrong. They never show up, and he sinks into oblivion.

When he wakes up and claws his way out of the water, the sun has set, and the lights of his house are on. He is cold and wet and his lungs burn.

But most of all, Tim is alone.

(If you die and no-one is there to see it, were you ever alive in the first place?)

The Return by lurkinglurkerwholurks 

What the comics neglected to cover after Bruce returns from being lost in time.

Only a03 users can read this fic.

charity by Valkirin for Ms_Trickster

The biggest downside of being adopted by Bruce Wayne is putting up with rich people events, including one where Jason will be in a room with a bunch of rich kids for a couple very long hours while Bruce goes to the adults' meeting. Jason is ready for a very bad time but the Drake kid listens to him from the start and keeps backing up Jason's ideas even though they've never met.

Jason warms up to Tim Drake long before Mad Hatter tries to take over the meeting and Tim backs him up again.

city of stars by lovelyre

College friends-to-lovers AU with Tim Drake.

This is Tim drake x Reader fic. Trust me its really good.

Tricks of the Trade by Jazz020

Jason and Damian learn about Tim's fool proof method of getting what he wants from Superman

Security Updates by Jazz020

Hal, Clark, and Barry find an unexpected guest playing with the watchtowers security.

Vacation at the Watchtower by Jazz020

A continuation of Security Updates

It may have been a mistake to let Tim stay at the Watchtower while he heals from his injury but the kid really needed to get away from his brothers.

“Wait, what if I go to the Watchtower with you.” “I don't think-” “It’ll be great. I'll even help out if you need me to. I'll be the best unpaid intern the Justice League has ever had.”

Birthdays by Jazz020

Bruce was always aware that Jack and Janet Drake were bad parents, but every once in a while they give him an unfortunate reminder.

Loss by Jazz020

Out of all of Tim’s self-destructive tendencies, it was his willingness to die for his loved ones that frightened Alfred most.

Sick by Jazz020

Tim’s never quite figured out the proper behavior for someone who’s sick. Instead of resting, he often makes his way to the Watchtower.

We Can Work It Out by blackash26, Tigrislupa

Damian endeavors to make up for his treatment of Drake and apologize properly; however, Drake refuses to forgive him no matter what he does. Tim does his best to deny, avoid, and ultimately deal with the fact that the demon brat has a crush on him of all people. (Pulling pigtails never felt like quite such an understatement.) Meanwhile, the rest of the family takes sides.

In all of this, there's only one thing everyone agrees on.

Don’t tell Dick.

Only A03 users can read this fic.

you'll never find a thing like today by remrose

"I'm just saying, I don't think I've ever been to one of these things that hasn't ended in explosions," Bart tells them, eyes on the crowds as he tugs at the ends of his cuffs.

To the Boy Who Called Yesterday by Shirokokuro

Bruce wonders when six-year-old Tim changed, when he shed that sad look he’s wearing now.

Or, perhaps, when he got so good at hiding it.

Cough syrup by Stardustwrites17

It’s the coldest night in the year. So of course Tim falls into the Gotham-fucking-harbor.

Featuring a worried dad, Tim's missing spleen, and of course, Tim battling with himself between being independent and letting himself be loved.

Chili dogs seasoned with tears by Robin_The_Robiner

Ever so slowly, Tim looked down at his plate. On it was a steaming chili dog, topped with fried onions and fresh parsley.

“Oh.” he whispered.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Taking the place of a beloved dead boy was difficult, but Tim managed to do a decent job. He's smart, confident, and put together, so he wasn't effected by their devastating grief at all.

Tim is also a dirty little liar when it comes to his mental health.

A Pile Of Pillows By The Couch by reinersbigtits

Tim has always hated getting sick. He hates the haze and the pain. But, when he finds out his family is sick he jumps in to help without a second thought. However, without a spleen, he's incredibly susceptible to the illness and quickly realizes just how much he's missed out on.

Or: Tim Drakes repressed trauma followed by worried family feels and lots of comfort.

stepping on landmines by Ms_Trickster

There is a scar curved around Drake's neck that Damian does not understand.

So he asks Todd.

the butler's neighbor by deargalileo

It starts with a baseball, thrown onto the wayne's property. it's alfred's job to deal with such happenings, of course. but over tea and galas, it turns into so much more.

after all, why should bruce be the only one allowed to adopt any child that he finds?

Stranger than Fiction by foxy_mulder

"There are details in this document that absolutely no one should know unless they have inside information on us. There’s hints that they know our patrol schedules and regularly keep tabs on us. I don't know who's behind this, or what they want with Batman, but tracking the writer needs to be a priority."

"And this document is… a fanfiction?"

_________

(Tim Drake writes Batman fanfiction. He doesn't expect Batman to actually find it.)

There are many many more fics which i will post later. Have fun reading