#that motion blur really carries the

[muckyschmuck]

AAAAAAAAA

[pucksandpower]

Prince of Monaco

Charles Leclerc x Princess of Monaco

Summary: what better way for the honorary Prince of Monaco to celebrate finally winning his home race than with the Princess of Monaco?

Warnings: 18+ content

The roar of the crowd is deafening as Charles brings his Ferrari across the finish line, finally winning his home race after years of heartbreak. His mechanics swarm the barriers, nearly delirious with excitement, but Charles just leans back in his seat, letting the accomplishment sink in.

He’s done it. He’s conquered the streets that have taunted him for so long.

As he’s ushered up to the iconic podium, Charles looks out at the sea of fans cheering his name and spots you, radiant in a summery yellow dress, beaming up at him.

For a moment, time seems to stop as your eyes meet. You give him a little wave and he nearly stumbles on his way to the top step, feeling lightheaded.

When you step forward with the winner’s trophy, Charles’ heart starts pounding. Your fingers brush against his ever so slightly as you hand it over and he swears he can feel an electric current pass between you. The sleek lines of the trophy blur before his eyes as he struggles to catch his breath.

“Félicitations, Charles,” you say warmly, resting a hand on his arm.

Charles blinks rapidly as his cheeks start to burn. Up close, you look like an honest-to-god angel descended to earth. How does one even speak to heavenly beings?

“Th-thanks,” he stammers out, mentally kicking himself for sounding like such an idiot. He needs to get it together. “I mean, merci, Your Serene Highness.”

You laugh, the warm sound instantly putting him at ease. “Please, just call me Y/N.”

“Y/N,” he repeats dumbly. It’s easily the most beautiful combination of letters he’s ever heard.

“You should celebrate your big win tonight,” you say, a playful glint in your eyes. “But maybe don’t get too carried away with the champagne.”

Charles frowns in confusion. Is that a royal decree to take it easy on the partying?

“I was hoping you could pick me up tomorrow evening,” you continue blithely. “For our date.”

Our … date? Charles’ eyes go wide as his jaw drops open. Is the most beautiful woman in the world really asking him out right now? In front of millions of people?

“Uh, I … we … huh?” He sputters inelegantly.

You just smile that radiant smile and lean in to press a soft kiss to his cheek. “We do now,” you murmur against his skin, sending tingles down his spine. “I’ll see you at eight?”

Before Charles can formulate any kind of response, you give him one last brilliant grin and turn to congratulate Oscar Piastri on second place. He blinks down at the trophy in his hands, wondering if he’s dreaming all of this.

The rest of the podium celebration passes by in a blur. He holds up his trophy and waves to the crowd like he’s supposed to, but his mind is elsewhere, utterly consumed by the feeling of your lips on his skin and the knowledge that he has an actual date with the woman of his dreams.

As soon as the ceremonies conclude, his team is all over him, shouting congratulations and patting his back enthusiastically. Normally he’d be caught up in the revelry, basking in his victory, but now all Charles wants is to get out of there. He needs to chug about a gallon of water and take a very cold shower.

“Party tonight, eh mate?” Carlos calls out with a playful elbow to the ribs. “Got any special plans to celebrate?”

Charles feels the blush creeping back up his cheeks as he thinks about you — your warm laughter, your gentle touch, the promises of a date in your sparkling eyes. His lips tug up in a helpless smile.

“You could say that,” he murmurs, already counting down the hours until he gets to see you again.

The post-race celebrations kick into high gear, with champagne flowing freely and music thumping from every corner. Charles goes through the motions, reveling in his hard-won triumph but unable to fully let loose and enjoy himself. Not when a much bigger prize is waiting for him tomorrow night.

The hours drag by interminably as he waits for an acceptable time to make his excuses and leave the party behind. His friends rib him relentlessly for his uncharacteristic restraint.

“What’s got you so distracted, Calamar?” Pierre teases. “This isn’t like you at all!”

“Yeah, our boy’s got his eyes on something else tonight! Or would it be more accurate to say someone else?” Joris chimes in with an exaggerated wink.

Charles flushes but doesn’t deny it, fighting back a smile. If only they knew ...

It’s nearly 2 am by the time he extricates himself from the club, pleading an early morning commitment. No one believes his excuse for a second, but they let him go with plenty of cheers and well-meaning shoves.

As soon as Charles makes it back to his apartment, he starts feverishly getting ready for tomorrow, picking out the perfect outfit and incessantly checking the time. After tossing and turning fruitlessly for a couple of hours, he finally gives up on sleep, instead spending his morning going for a long run to burn off excess energy.

The day drags on at an excruciatingly slow pace. Every minute feels like an hour as he wills the clocks to move faster. He triple checks the address, runs through conversation starters in his head, and showers for the third time. This date has to go perfectly.

At 7:55 pm, Charles pulls up outside the royal palace, hands gripping the steering wheel tightly as he tries to control his nerves. He takes one last steadying breath before getting out of the car and smoothing down his shirt.

Like an angel from on high, you suddenly appear in the palace doorway, looking impossibly radiant in a gauzy pink sundress that matches your warm smile perfectly.

“Y/N,” Charles breathes out reverently, drinking in your beauty. Up close, his heart is pounding so loudly he’s sure you must be able to hear it. “You look … wow.”

Your smile grows even brighter as you move towards him. “Well, you clean up pretty nicely yourself.”

There’s a brief, charged silence as you stand face to face, just drinking each other in. Then, seeming to make up your mind about something, you grab his hand and tug him close.

“Come on,” you murmur, eyes sparkling mischievously. “I’ve got the perfect date night planned for us.”

With your hand in his, Charles would follow you straight into the depths of hell itself. He manages an eager nod, unable to tear his eyes away from your face.

Whatever you have planned, he knows it will be perfect. So long as he gets to spend the evening by your side, he couldn’t care less what you do.

You lace your fingers through his, shooting him one last brilliant smile, and lead the way to what is undoubtedly going to be the best night of Charles’s life.

***

Warm rays of morning sunlight filter through the sheer curtains, gently rousing Charles from the most blissful sleep of his life. He blinks slowly, taking in the lavish bedchamber with its soaring ceilings and intricate moldings. Plush rugs cover the marble floors and the bed he’s cocooned in is easily the most luxurious he’s ever experienced, with soft Egyptian cotton sheets caressing his skin.

For a delirious moment, Charles thinks he might still be dreaming. But then his eyes drift to you, sleeping peacefully beside him, and his heart stutters in his chest. It all comes rushing back in a torrent of sense memories — your radiant smile, your tinkling laugh, the feeling of your hand in his as you led him out on the most magical night of his life.

The two of you stroll hand-in-hand through the winding alleyways of Monaco, ducking down tiny side streets to places only locals know. Charles is enchanted as you show him hidden corners of your city that he’s never seen before, sharing fascinating stories and anecdotes all the while.

“This little trattoria has been run by the same family for nearly a century,” you explain as you lead him into a tiny, unassuming restaurant positively dripping with old world charm. The smiling owner greets you like a beloved daughter, embracing you warmly.

Over a seemingly endless parade of rustic Italian delicacies and a hearty red wine, you and Charles talk for hours about everything and nothing - childhoods and ambitions, favorite books and movies, embarrassing stories that have you both crying with laughter.

When the owner sends over a giant slice of homemade tiramisu with a wink, you steal the first bite right off Charles’ fork with a cheeky grin. A bit of mascarpone clings to the corner of your mouth and without thinking, Charles leans in to kiss it away, savoring the sweet taste of you mingled with the rich dessert.

You make a soft noise of surprise against his lips before melting into the kiss, cupping his face tenderly. When you finally part, both a little breathless, there’s a new burning heat in your eyes that makes Charles’ heart skip a beat.

“Shall we go for a walk?” You murmur, already sliding out of the booth. Your hand finds his and you lace your fingers together as you lead him back out into the night ...

Just thinking about last night’s date makes Charles’ heart feel fit to burst. You had taken him on a romantic tour of Monaco unlike anything he’s ever experienced, showing him secret nooks and hidden gems even he didn’t know. He had been so entranced just drinking in the city through your eyes, hanging on your every word.

But those heated looks you started sending his way after that first electrifying kiss had made it clear the real night was only just beginning ...

You stroll along the moon-dappled harbor, pointing out your favorite super-yachts and regaling Charles with scandalous stories of the jetset lives of their owners. He laughs delightedly at your wicked sense of humor, tucking you against his side as you wander the lamp-lit cobblestone streets.

When you lead him up a winding path to an old stone overlook, his breath catches in his throat. Twinkling lights from the city and harbor spread out as far as the eye can see, the tiny pinpricks glittering like a million stars. You come up behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist as you nuzzle against his back.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” You murmur reverently. “This is my favorite view in all of Monaco.”

Charles turns in your embrace until you’re pressed flush together, hardly daring to breathe. “It is,” he rasps out, getting lost in the depths of your eyes. “But not as beautiful as you.”

You let out a shaky breath, eyes flicking down to his lips for a heated moment, before surging up on your tiptoes to capture his mouth in a searing kiss ...

Unbidden, a low groan slips from Charles’ throat as he remembers those heated kisses on the overlook, one thing inexorably leading to another in a heady rush of lust and longing until you were both feverishly tugging at clothes. He swallows hard, feeling himself start to stir beneath the sheets.

That was just the start of the longest, most incredible night of Charles’ life. Your romantic tour had eventually led you both back to the palace, where you scattered a trail of discarded garments across marble floors and lavish furnishings in your wake, completely consumed by your desire for one another.

You press Charles back against the door of your bedroom as soon as you stagger inside, hands roaming hungrily as you devour his mouth in a bruising kiss. Charles groans deeply, fingers tangling in your hair as he spins you both around to walk you back towards the bed ...

A warm weight suddenly drapes itself across Charles’ torso, jolting him from his reverie with a sharp intake of breath. You’re curled against his side, smiling at him with eyes still heavy-lidded from sleep. His heart kicks up a furious gallop as you scoot closer, trailing a path of featherlight kisses along his chest and shoulder.

“Good morning,” you murmur, voice still scratchy and deliciously rumpled sounding. Charles nearly swallows his tongue at the sound — not to mention the fact that he can now feel every luscious curve of your body pressed against his beneath the sheets.

“Morning,” he croaks out, throat gone instantly dry. How is it possible that you look even more beautiful than he remembers?

You laugh softly at his dazed expression as you work your way up the column of his neck, seemingly intent on covering every last inch of bare skin with those incredibly soft lips. “Sleep well?”

Charles manages a strangled noise of agreement just before you capture his mouth in a slow, smoldering kiss. He groans against your lips, looping an arm around your waist to pull you more fully on top of him. Every nerve-ending feels like it’s engulfed in flames.

When you finally break apart, you brace yourself up on your elbows, gazing down at him with bright, sparkling eyes. “Last night was incredible,” you say candidly, tracing the line of his cheekbone with a fingertip. “Thank you for such an amazing first date.”

A low rumble of laughter escapes Charles as he grins up at you, dizzy with happiness. “I should be thanking you. Last night was … just, wow.” He reaches up to tuck an errant strand of hair behind your ear, marveling at how impossibly soft your skin is. “Have I mentioned yet how breathtakingly gorgeous you are?”

Your cheeks flush prettily even as you let out an adorably bashful little giggle that has Charles bewitched. “Charles Leclerc, you beautiful charmer,” you tease, dropping your head to nuzzle against the crook of his neck. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Mmm, I have a few ideas ...” Charles murmurs, just loud enough for you to hear. He trails his fingertips up the delicate lines of your spine, reveling in the way it makes you shiver against him.

You lift your head again, pinning him with a look of pure want that steals the breath from Charles’ lungs. “Is that so?” You purr, rolling your hips ever so slightly against his in a way that has him biting back a groan.

“Oui,” he husks out, slipping a hand into your tousled hair to draw your mouth back to his. You melt against him instantly, the kiss rapidly becoming heated and desperate as you both come quickly undone.

With you pressed so tantalizingly close, Charles can feel the heat slowly building between you as he maps every inch of your body with eager hands. Your skin is so silky soft, he can scarcely believe you’re real. Last night’s passion comes roaring back in a tidal wave of desire so potent it nearly overwhelms him.

Your fingers dig into his shoulders, clinging to him like a lifeline as you finally join your bodies in a fevered rush. Charles surges up to capture your lips again, unable to get enough of your addictive taste as you move together in perfect synchronicity. Slick skin sliding, breaths mingling, every sensation is heightened and electrified as you make love with an abandon unlike anything Charles has ever experienced ...

A strangled groan tears from Charles’ chest at the memory, his grip reflexively tightening on your hips and pulling you harder against him.

You let out a soft whimper against his mouth, fingers tangling in his hair as you grind deliciously against him in response. Charles feels utterly intoxicated by you — your taste, your scent, the exquisite softness of your skin pressed so enticingly to his.

With one fluid motion, he rolls you both until he’s caging you beneath him on the luxurious sheets. You gaze up at him with eyes gone molten and dark, chests heaving in tandem. The ferocious want simmering between you is nearly tangible.

“You’re so beautiful,” Charles rasps out in reverence, brushing the backs of his fingers along the elegant curve of your jaw. He leans down to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses along the column of your throat, feeling your rapid pulse fluttering beneath his lips. “Perfect ...”

A soft keen escapes you as you tilt your head back to allow him better access. Every nerve in Charles’ body feels electrified, like his skin is humming with unreleased energy. He’s drunk on you, body and soul.

As his lips blaze a path lower, nuzzling between the delicious swell of your breasts, your back arches sharply up off the bed with a gasp of longing. Your fingers clutch almost painfully at his shoulders as you struggle to pull him even closer.

“Charles … please,” you whimper, voice pitched low and heady with naked yearning.

He slides a hand up your silken thigh in answer, molding his palm to the flare of your hip as you shift restlessly beneath him. You’re warm and pliant and bewitching like this, coming slowly undone under his attentions.

With a ragged groan, Charles surrenders to the inescapable gravitational pull between you, fusing your mouths back together in a searing kiss that instantly turns all-consuming ...

Your nails score lines of delicious fire down his back as he drives into you with deep, powerful strokes, hips snapping together in a primal rhythm. It’s all heat and friction and tangled limbs, the world narrowing down to nothing but the places where your bodies join so intimately.

You keen out his name like a prayer, the sound sending hot shockwaves of lust ricocheting through Charles’s core. Every nerve feels simultaneously set alight and yet thrumming with a paradoxical electric chill, sensations somehow magnified tenfold.

He’ll never get enough of this feeling — of being completely consumed by you, your passion, your overwhelming desire for each other burning so bright that everything else fades away into glorious insignificance ...

A guttural groan is torn from deep in Charles’ throat as your hips roll sensuously against his in wanton invitation. His head drops into the tempting curve of your neck, lips tracing maddeningly along your overheated skin as he struggles to maintain the barest thread of control.

“Y/N,” he rumbles out, your name laced with pure, undisguised reverence. “Mon ange ...”

You cup his face in your hands, forcing his heated gaze back to yours. For a crystalline moment, everything hangs in breathless suspension before you surge up to claim his mouth in a searing, all-consuming kiss.

Like a switch being flipped, the tenuous grip Charles had on his restraint abruptly snaps. A low groan tears from his very soul as he lets the irresistible tide finally pull him under, lost in the relentless thrall of your passion.

Your urgent cries spike higher as Charles’ hips drive forward in a smooth, powerful glide, joining your bodies with exquisite friction. You clutch at him wildly, nails raking lines of delicious fire across his back as the room narrows to nothing but scorching skin and thunderous heartbeats.

At last, the spiraling tension reaches a blinding crescendo, your release crashing over you in shattering waves of pure ecstasy. Charles’ own climax follows swiftly, torn from his very depths with a hoarse shout of your name.

He collapses bonelessly on top of you, lungs heaving like he’s just run a marathon as you both simply cling to each other through the sizzling aftershocks. Sparks still seem to crackle across his nerve endings from your earth-shattering joining.

After an endless stretch of languid moments, Charles finally gathers enough strength to ease himself to the side, gathering you in against his chest. You come willingly, draping yourself over him as he nuzzles into the top of your head and just breathes you in.

“Wow ...” you murmur at last when you’ve recovered enough to speak. A breathless giggle escapes as you press a soft kiss to the hollow of his throat. “And I thought last night was incredible.”

Charles rumbles out a deep chuckle, pressing his smile against your hair as his arms tighten reflexively around you. “Last night was just the warm up, mon cœur,” he husks out, voice still gloriously ragged from your shared passion.

You pull back just enough to gaze at him through heavy-lidded eyes, cheeks delightfully flushed and hair wildly tousled in a way that has Charles’ heart clenching near to bursting. Brushing a knuckle along his jaw, you give him a look rich with teasing promise.

“Well then ... if this is what I give you for winning Monaco,” you trail off meaningfully, letting the words hang suspended as your fingertips trail down the ridges of his abdomen. “I can’t even imagine what you’ll earn when you win the World Championship.”

The low, sultry purr of your tone sends delicious little licks of heat swirling through Charles’ veins despite his delightfully sated state. A wicked grin tugs at his lips as pulls you more fully on top of him again, glorying in your lush curves molded so perfectly against his own.

“Is that a challenge, Princesse?” He rumbles out, dipping his head to nibble along the elegant column of your throat. You let out the most deliciously breathy giggle that has his blood absolutely simmering.

“Mmm, maybe,” you hum out coyly, deft fingers trailing through the short hair at his nape in a way that makes his toes curl. “Although I suppose you’ll just have to win it and find out for yourself ...”

Charles feels a possessive growl rising up from deep within his chest as he abruptly flips you both, pinning your breathless laughter beneath him on the luxurious sheets. Gazing down at you with unbridled adoration blazing in his eyes, he steals another scorching kiss that leaves you both gasping for air.

“Oh, I fully intend to,” he vows fervently, reveling in the way your eyes have gone molten and dark with renewed desire. His hands map every inch of your body with fervent devotion as he leans down to murmur hotly against the shell of your ear.

“And when I do, Princesse … I’m never letting you go.”

[sunrenity]

ANYTHING FOR YOU  、NRK

ㅤ୨ৎㅤwhenever you're with riki, all of your fears disappear.

nishimura rikiㅤ✶ㅤfemale readerㅤ ｡｡｡ ㅤest relationship, fluffㅤⓘㅤreader hates riding bikesㅤwcㅤ759ㅤℬookshelfㅤzehra's note.ㅤi have no idea how i ended up talking about ducks but here we are 🤷‍♀️.

you hated bikes. the mere thought of balancing on two wheels, feeling the wind whip past you, and the potential for a hard fall was enough to make your stomach churn. you remembered the time when you were a kid, and you tried riding a bike without training wheels for the first time. it didn't end well, to say the least.

the scrape on your knee took weeks to heal, and the fear took even longer to fade. yet here you were, standing beside nishimura riki, your boyfriend, as he wheeled his shiny black bike out of the garage, his eyes gleaming with excitement.

"come on, y/n," riki urged, his voice a mix of persuasion and reassurance. "i promise, you'll be safe with me."

you bit your lip, the apprehension clear on your face. "riki, you know how i feel about bikes. i don't think i can do this."

he walked over to you, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. "i know you're scared. but trust me, okay? i want to take you somewhere special. just hold on tight, and i won't let anything happen to you."

you looked into his eyes, those deep, comforting eyes that always seemed to melt away your fears. with a heavy sigh, you nodded. "okay, i'll do it. but if i fall, you're carrying me the rest of the way."

riki laughed, a sound that warmed your heart. "deal."

he helped you onto the bike, his hands steadying you as you climbed on behind him. you wrapped your arms around his waist, holding on tightly as he kicked off and started pedaling. the bike wobbled slightly at first, and you felt your heart leap into your throat. but riki's steady presence was reassuring, and you found yourself relaxing just a little.

"see? not so bad, right?" he called back over his shoulder.

you managed a shaky laugh. "if you say so."

as you rode through the quiet streets, you could feel the tension slowly leaving your body. the rhythmic motion of the bike, combined with the warmth of riki's back against your chest, was strangely soothing. he steered with confidence, his movements fluid and sure. it was clear that he knew what he was doing, and that knowledge helped to ease your fears.

"where are we going, anyway?" you asked, curiosity starting to replace your anxiety.

"it's a surprise," riki replied, his tone teasing. "but i promise it's worth it."

you sighed, resting your head against his back. despite your initial reluctance, there was something undeniably exhilarating about this experience. the world seemed to blur past you in a whirl of colors and sounds, and you felt a sense of freedom that you hadn't expected.

after what felt like an eternity but was probably only a few minutes, riki slowed down and turned onto a narrow path that led into a small, secluded park. he stopped the bike and helped you dismount, his hands lingering on your waist for a moment longer than necessary.

"we're here," he said, a proud smile on his face.

you looked around, taking in the serene beauty of the park. there was a small pond in the center, its surface shimmering in the late afternoon sunlight. tall trees surrounded the area, their leaves rustling softly in the breeze. it was a peaceful, idyllic spot, and you felt a sense of calm wash over you.

but what really caught your attention were the ducks swimming in the pond. they glided gracefully across the water, their small, feathery bodies creating gentle ripples. you watched them, entranced by their peaceful movements. riki must have noticed your fascination because he nudged you playfully.

"you like the ducks, huh?" he teased, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "should i get you one for a pet?"

you laughed, shaking your head. "you would do that for me? steal a duck for me?"

riki's eyes widened, and he looked genuinely panicked for a moment. "wait, i didn't mean—"

you laughed even harder, cutting him off. "relax, riki! i'm kidding. i don't actually want you to steal a duck."

riki exhaled in relief, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "good. i was worried for a second there. stealing a duck is definitely not on my to-do list."

you leaned into him, enjoying the warmth of his arm around your shoulders. "well, even if you did, it would be kinda cute."

he chuckled, pulling you closer. "i guess anything for you, but let's stick to visiting the ducks here. much easier and less illegal."

PERM TLㅤ ✦ㅤ @en-gelic @nishislcve @jakesprincess1 @ivsjake4evr @flwrstqr

[lostalioth]

𝐛𝐢𝐠 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐬

→ premise: you were just so pretty and so much smaller than your boys how could they not love it? though they’ve seemed to take notice of just how much you love it

→ pairing: steve rogers x fem!reader x bucky barnes

→ warnings: smut | 18+, size kink [reader is described as smaller/weaker in the sense of them being super soliders and stronger more muscles etc.][im also not that good at writing size kink so just squint a bit], body worship, dumbification, nicknames [little one, dumb baby, baby], oral [f receiving], creampie [only 1 i was gonna have them both do it but]

→ a/n: 01 kinktober

It was very hard for your boys to keep their hands to themselves around you, they were both very possessive after all but they knew you loved it. They noticed the way your thighs clenched when they stood tall behind you, presence big and looming as their large hands both snake around each side of your waist. Their stares and presence are enough to make the guy talking to you back off. They hear the small lustful gasp that leaves your lips when one of them manhandles you picking you up to place you out of their way. They were more in tune and hyper aware of every motion and sound you made than you'd like sometimes. They could catch on to things you like before even you could. Such as that you really really enjoyed just how much bigger and stronger they were than you.

It had been a couple days of a long mission where the three of you simply didn't have the time or space for many intimate moments, that was until you finally got back home. You're in the middle of a conversation with Sam before suddenly you're swept off your feet by Steve.

With a short startled scream you're thrown over one of his broad shoulders. “Hey i was in the middle of a conversation, you know” you whine and ignore the ache that begins to settle in your core at the action. You smack Steve's muscular back in an attempt of telling him to let you go, with the one hand that was holding your waist still he lets go quickly to smack your ass. You squeal and shut your mouth fast as arousal replaces all confusion and frustration. Steve's other hand that's gripping the back of your thigh squeezes a bit harder around the plush skin. You watch Bucky not far behind you two as Steve carries you to our shared bedroom. A small but seductive and taunting grin plastered across the brunette's face. He watches with amusement as your eyes glaze over, practically seeing you begin to sink into sub space already.

“Wish you could see her face rn, shes turning into our dumb little baby already thinking of all the things we’ll do to her” Bucky's deep voice breaks you for your train of thought before you sink right back away and the rest is a blur until your sat on your large soft king size bed, ass nestled into steves lap and your facing bucky whos sat in front of you.

“We missed your body little one” Steve whispers, coming out desperate and soft, breath hot the back of your neck as Bucky tucks a piece of hair behind your ear and resting his big calloused hand on your face. “Your perfect little body is all we ever need baby” Bucks voice is a stark difference to the blondes as his comes out husky and deep. You gasp as bucky's cold metal fingers find their way under your shirt inching towards your bare chest.

You couldn't be bothered to put a bra on for the long and uncomfortable trip home and you've never been more grateful for one of your decisions til this moment. His thumb brushes across your already hardening nipple at the same time that Steve begins leaving sloppy kisses on the back of your neck making his way to that sweet spot behind your ear. Your breath hitches in your throat as you squeeze your thighs together but steves warm hand slides between them spreading them apart. You whimper softly at the strength.

“We wanna worship that pussy baby don't hide it little one” Steve mumbles against your neck as he starts to unbutton your pants with one hand and push them down with your panties.

The boys move fast to discard the rest of your clothes as well as their own and their lips are back all over your body, kissing, marking, licking every inch of skin that they can.

You're now propped up against the headboard, a pillow behind your back and one under your hips. Bucky has one leg pinned and Steve has the other so your legs are spread, throbbing cunt on full display for them. Their strength while forcing your legs open causes your arousal to leak down your pussy and ass soaking the pillow under you as you squirm a bit in impatience.

“Look at our pretty little dumb baby Buck so needy, you want our mouths baby?” Steve asks in a soft yet taunting voice that has your head going hazy again. You nod yes eagerly and whine as the blonde and brunette hovered their mouths over where you needed them most. A small chuckle leaves Bucky's lips before he is quick to slide two of his thick warm fingers through your slick, spreading it over your puffy folds. The small gasp leaving your parted lips turning into a louder one the second his fingers slip inside you and are fast to find that spot only your boys could. Steve, not far behind Bucky in action, leans closer and starts to slowly flick your clit with his tongue, teasing you by slowly licking shapes over your aching clit. Your thighs twitch and on instinct your legs attempt to shut from the overwhelming pleasure, the pressure building embarrassingly fast in the pit of your stomach.

“You gonna cum already little one? Keep these fucking legs open and cum on Bucks fingers, come on dumb baby” Steve groans against your pussy as he moves his attention back to your clit, sucking it sloppy and hard. Steve's hands grip your inner thighs hard and push your legs away from his head and Bucky pins one knee down to the bed with his free hand. “Cum on my fingers baby then you can get filled with our cocks you miss that dont ya’ little one” Bucky chuckled and watched as you squirm and whine when he starts slowly and teasing stroking his hard cock giving you the perfect view.

With a gasp and fingers threading through Steve's dirty blonde hair and pulling you cum hard on Bucky's fingers. You feel Steve smile against your clit as your chest rises and falls, catching your breath.

Bucky having other plans however the minute Steve pulls away from your clit is smacking his red leaking tip against your abused bud and slamming inside you. Your eyes glaze over and their voices fade as pleasure and overstimulation take over your body. A wanton moan fills the boy's ears causing them to smile as Bucky's thrusts are hard and fast. He's been pent up for days and your walls clenching around his thick cock is a heavenly feeling he desperately missed.

Your eyes fall shut but snapback open fast when Steve is gripping your cheeks squeezing them lightly, you whine, his rough hand making your face seem so small. “Eyes on us baby got it? Look at Buck as he fucks this gorgeous cunt yeah?” He questions and smacks your clit before you can answer, making you clench down harder on buck. “Yes! Mhm mhm!” You nod and hum in response, not being able to form enough words.

The brunette groaning loud and grabbing your hips hard to plow into you even harder. He was so big it was easy for him to manipulate you. “Fuck you’re already gonna make me come little one” his head falls back as he lets pleasure wash over him. He thrusts one last time filling you to the hilt as thick hot ropes of cum fill you up. Your mind goes blank again and before you can register their voices again, Steve's hands are grabbing onto your hips and lifting you into his lap.

“Shes already so fucked out aww well too bad baby i need to be inside you so fuckin’ bad missed it just as much as buck did” Steves voice is ringing in your ears but before you can form an answer he is lfting you up again to slide down onto his cock. “Ah! Fuck steve” you whine and yet still press your hips down to take him inside. “Look at you trying to complain baby you love it when we manhandle you, didn't think we noticed huh?” Bucky taunts and grabs a fist full of your hair to pull your head back so he can kiss you hungrily. You kiss back passionatly with a goofy smile on your face that fades into a lust filled one once steve starts to fuck up into you, hands still grabbing onto your now probaly bruised hips.

You moan against Bucky's lips, head hazy but happy thinking of how well they will take care of you after this. They may manhandle you and be much stronger than you but they could be big teddy bears when it came to aftercare.

→ a/n: this is only my second time writing stucky so i hope its as good as my first one that everyone loved but :) also this was meant to go up yesterday im not doing 31 days im doing 18 im posting a fic every saturday, sunday, tuesday, and thursday but i got busy yesterday and this wasnt proof read too well so im sorry and i rushed the ending to get it out td.

[bellaxgiornata]

Seeking Forgiveness [Part One]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word Count: 5.5k

Summary: Matt always made protecting Hell's Kitchen his priority, you knew that when you'd begun dating him. What you hadn't expected was just how much he'd eventually make it a priority over you, breaking promise after promise to spend his time with you. But when you unexpectedly discover that you're pregnant and Matt yet again breaks a promise to you, the pair of you end up in a fight that ends the relationship before you can even break the news. Though when he later learns the truth, Matt becomes hell bent on seeking your forgiveness.

Warnings/tags: 18+ contains angst, emotional hurt, delayed comfort, pregnant Reader

a/n: Starting an angsty mini series so I have somewhere to pour my angst until I can start Holding on to You when ATY finishes. Feedback is always appreciated and the installment list for this series can be found here!

Tag List: @mattmurdocksstarlight @just-going-through-the-motions @paracosmic-murdock @yeonalie

Grabbing the last item on your list for dinner tonight, you set the package of chicken into the basket you were carrying beside the other ingredients. Turning around, you were ready to head towards the checkout, wanting to hurry so you could get over to Matt’s and begin cooking dinner. You were eager to spend the evening with him, desperate not to waste anymore time at the grocery store. But you abruptly stopped in your tracks once the store around you began to spin at the slight movement, the aisles around you blurring in your vision. Raising a hand to your forehead, you closed your eyes and clenched your teeth, standing there and waiting for the dizzy spell to pass, your stomach churning faintly as you did. 

It was a minute before you’d finally opened your eyes again, the brief wave of nausea finally subsiding. Blinking a couple of times, you frowned and rubbed your hand across your forehead in confusion. You'd been experiencing dizzy spells and nausea more frequently this week, hitting you at random when you were at work or trying to get something done around your apartment. Yesterday when you’d bent over to pull a load of laundry out of the dryer one time too many, you’d almost thrown up in your laundry basket. You’d been wondering if maybe you’d been coming down with something for the past couple of days now because of it.

With a sigh you decided that you might as well head over towards the pharmacy while you were already here and grab some vitamins. Maybe you were coming down with something–the flu possibly–and honestly, you really couldn’t afford taking sick days at work right now with everything going on at the office. You figured it wouldn’t hurt to take some multi-vitamins. Maybe they could help you circumvent coming down with something more serious later.

Making your way towards the pharmacy through the busy grocery store, you maneuvered around the crowds of others who had stopped in after work to grab something for dinner, too. Your mind was distracted as you walked, having been looking forward to tonight for the past couple of days now and anxious to get the hell out of here already. It had been difficult for you to focus on anything at work today because it had been so long since you and Matt had a night in together.

You were planning to spend the evening at his apartment tonight and make him one of his favorite meals–and truthfully, it was one of the only things that didn’t seem to turn your stomach lately. You had missed spending the occasional evening in with him. It had certainly been far too long since the pair of you had enjoyed a dinner together before curling up on the couch or in his bed; it had unfortunately been just as long since you’d both had a chance to be intimate together, too. 

Over the past few weeks, Matt had increasingly promised you that he wouldn’t go out as Daredevil and would make time for you instead, but he never actually followed through on any of those promises. After the first few times he'd broken them on you, you'd quickly become disheartened and frustrated, wondering if this was just how things were between you now. You'd hoped that wasn't the case, trying to give him the benefit of the doubt because you knew he hadn’t been in many relationships in the past. But still, he only ever continued to repeatedly break promise after promise on you. 

You’d known Matt was Daredevil for a while now; you’d known that when you'd both officially become a couple. You'd also known that he felt like he had a duty to protect the people of Hell’s Kitchen. That was something you’d fully understood when you’d first entered into a relationship with him. But it had quickly become a problem recently. One you didn’t think Matt fully comprehended the gravity of himself. 

Usually, he’d go out a few nights of the week and stop in at your apartment to stay over with you when he’d finished his patrol. On the nights he didn’t go out, you’d usually stay over at his place and the pair of you would make dinner together before spending most of the evening in bed making up for lost time before actually falling asleep. Recently though, he’d been going out every single night as Daredevil. And he hadn’t been stopping by your place afterwards because you’d eventually learned that he was staying out until almost four in the morning, barely leaving himself time to sleep before he needed to be at the office for work.

He’d told you that there was something going on with a Russian mafia in Hell’s Kitchen and that he’d been worried about it. But over the weeks, you’d watched as he’d become absolutely consumed with tracking down the leader of the mafia. Sometimes you’d see him leaving right after he’d come back from the office on the nights he’d already promised to spend with you before he stayed out scouring rooftops into the early morning hours. You’d barely seen him in weeks because of his near obsession with this Russian mafia. And when you did see him, it was only briefly and he was exhausted, covered in bruises, and incredibly moody. When you’d tried to talk to him the other night, practically begging him to stay in–not even just for you, but for his own sake–he’d been grumpy about it. Though when you’d begun to cry he’d promised you relentlessly that he’d stay in Wednesday night–which was tonight–if you just let him focus on this problem for the previous couple of nights. 

And you had agreed to that. Grudgingly.

Reaching the pharmacy section of the store, your eyes scanned the signs above each aisle, searching for the section you needed as your feet gradually took you past row after row in your search for vitamins. You wanted to grab something and get out of here already, but another twist of your stomach had bile briefly racing up your throat. You immediately stopped mid-step, eyes widening as you threw a hand over your mouth. Thankfully the feeling disappeared as fast it had appeared, the bile disgustingly making its way back from where it had come, but you were yet again left confused. 

Even though you’d thought that maybe you were getting sick with how your body had been acting the past couple of days, you had to admit, you’d never experienced flu symptoms quite like this before. You weren’t running a fever and you hadn’t actually thrown up at any point. You weren’t exactly achy, either. Though you had noticed that your breasts had felt uncomfortable and sore lately, and your nipples had been vastly more uncomfortable rubbing against your bras than usual.

No, you didn’t really feel like you were coming down with the flu. You’d just felt…off.

It wasn’t until you’d returned to your search for vitamins, taking one more step before your eyes landed on the pregnancy tests all neatly lined on a nearby shelf, that the realization hit you. Freezing on the spot as your mouth instantly grew dry, it all suddenly seemed to make sense. 

For the past couple of months you’d been struggling with staying consistent when it came to taking your birth control. You’d even found yourself wondering on multiple occasions if you’d accidentally missed days here and there between the stress of work and the stress of Matt gradually pushing you further and further away constantly being on your mind. You’d confided in him that concern multiple times, too, telling him that you were considering going on a different type of birth control, one that you wouldn’t have to think about. And though he knew you hadn’t switched to anything else yet, he’d never seemed remotely concerned about the possibility of an accidental pregnancy. So the pair of you had continued to have unprotected sex–but looking back on that decision right now, you felt incredibly, absurdly stupid. Though in your defense, you’d thought things had been going well between you both. Matt had asked you to move in with him shortly before he’d become so absorbed in this Russian mafia’s nefarious activities, and he’d even often assured you that if something were to ever accidentally happen, he’d always be there for you.

But now, here you were, quite possibly pregnant because you’d been so goddamn stupid and careless.

“Fuck,” you whispered under your breath.

Forcing your feet to move, you headed into the aisle, your eyes focused on the plethora of various pregnancy tests in different shades of blues and pinks. When you came to a stop in front of the shelf, you quickly tried to remember when you’d last had your period, eyes squinting as you thought back. Gasping a moment later, you realized it had been just over a month since you could last recall having it. Wincing at that knowledge, you once again cursed quietly to yourself, panic slowly beginning to settle inside of you. 

For a moment all you could do was stand there staring at the selection of pregnancy tests feeling absolutely overwhelmed and terrified. Fighting the urge to start crying in the middle of the aisle, you focused on just picking one out. Eventually you grabbed a test that promised early accuracy, the box containing three tests inside. You knew from a coworker who had been trying to conceive with her husband that you couldn’t exactly go back to your apartment right now and take one. If you were pregnant, you’d be quite early, and you knew the tests were the most accurate if you used them first thing in the morning. 

Which unfortunately meant you’d have to go over to Matt’s tonight and pretend everything was fine. And you knew that would be difficult with his heightened senses scanning over you, picking up on any little thing that was off. You could never get anything past him. Though maybe his distraction with the Russians would work in your favor for just this one thing tonight.

Hurrying out of the aisle as you tossed the box into your basket, you made your way to the checkout. While you waited in line, gnawing on your thumbnail nervously, you wondered if Matt’s senses could detect pregnancy tests. Would he know what was in the bag with the groceries or could you pass it off as something else? A box of tampons or something? Surely if you told him it had something to do with your period he wouldn’t push and he wouldn’t detect a lie, right?

By the time you’d purchased all your items, you were rushing the two blocks over to Matt’s apartment, moving faster than you ever had through the streets of Hell’s Kitchen. Unfortunately the nausea had returned as soon as you stepped out of the elevator and onto his floor, making your stomach turn uncomfortably as you headed down the hallway and towards his apartment door. You honestly couldn’t tell if the nausea was from nerves or from whatever had been going on with you at this point, you just hoped Matt wouldn’t notice it. You’d already figured there was no point in telling him that you might be pregnant tonight and freaking him out if you didn’t know for certain yet.

Eventually you found yourself in front of Matt’s door, your eyes staring at the apartment number on the outside of it. Shaking out your arms and shoulders, you tried to regain your composure, forcing a smile onto your face. Curling your hand into a fist, you reached up and knocked on Matt’s door. It was a moment before you heard the sound of heavy footfalls coming through the apartment, making their way towards you. Frowning, your eyes narrowed as all of your thoughts shifted from the fear of possibly being pregnant to how those footsteps didn’t sound like Matt’s bare feet.

The door swung open a moment later just a fraction, Matt’s confused expression peering at you from around it. You noticed he had a cut on his forehead that hadn’t been there last night and your frown deepened at the sight of it. 

“Sweetheart?” he asked. “What’re you doing here?”

Mouth dropping open, you gaped at him as your brows pulled tight together on your forehead. His question had the same effect as if he’d just slammed his fist into your stomach, knocking the air out of you. Surely he hadn’t forgotten about his plans with you once again, had he?

“I was coming over to make dinner,” you answered him slowly, irritation quickly lacing your tone. “Because you’d said you were staying in tonight with me. Remember? I picked up everything to make your favorite meal after work.”

His head canted more to the side, his eyes pinching tight as if he was trying to recall the plans. Your heart sunk to the floor as you bit your lip, nodding slowly in resignation.

“You forgot again, didn’t you?” you deadpanned. 

“Yeah, I’m–I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said in a rush. “I was actually about to go out. I overheard something big happening tonight on my way home from work and I need to be there. I think I might actually get the information I’ve been looking for tonight.”

“Or you could just, you know, leave Mahoney a tip and let the police and proper authorities deal with this tonight,” you suggested dryly. “Give it a rest for one night. Let your body recover. Spend time with your girlfriend that you’ve barely seen in weeks .”

Matt frowned at you, opening the door further as he asked you to step inside. You hesitated for a second before you did, stepping past the threshold and rolling your eyes at the sight of him already dressed in everything except the helmet of his red suit. It hurt to know he’d probably have slipped out of the apartment if you’d only arrived a few minutes later, leaving you knocking at his door with no answer.

“You know this is what I do,” Matt reminded you. “I’ve never kept it a secret from you.”

“Yeah, I know,” you agreed, unable to hide your annoyance. “But usually you had a better work-vigilante-life balance than you’ve had recently, Matt. You’re like a dog with a goddamn bone lately. You’re not even taking care of yourself. Have you even been eating lately? Sleeping?” You gestured a hand to his bruised and cut face. “Tending to your injuries and recovering?”

Matt’s lips thinned out as he focused on the floor, the muscle twitching in his cheek. You’d annoyed him with this line of questions. Again . As if your care and concern for him was really that irritating for him to hear. The thought of that only angered you further.

“I’m fine,” he said firmly. “And I’ll make it up to you tomorrow night. I promise. I’ll even cook for you.”

You scoffed in annoyance, shaking the bags in your hand. Matt’s face darted in the direction of them, his head tilting a few times as he seemed to observe the contents within the bags.

“I already picked things up for dinner, Matt,” you snapped. “Hurried over to the grocery store right after work and everything. Because we had plans .”

“Okay, you’re right, I’m sorry,” he told you. “I swear I’ll make it up to you tomorrow night. Spend the whole night in with you. I’ll cook the meal meant for tonight and you can relax with a glass of wine while I do. I’ll clean everything up. And then afterwards–” he continued, shooting you a devilish grin that only had your blood boiling, “–I’m all yours. For the whole night.”

Fist tightening around the grocery bags in your hand, you could feel your nails biting into your palm. That wasn’t exactly what you wanted, and if you were being honest, it felt like another empty promise. But you figured you’d have to give him one more chance. Because if those pregnancy tests came back positive tomorrow morning, you’d need to see him to tell him that news anyway.

“You do realize I’m pissed, right?” you pointed out.

He nodded solemnly, the grin slipping off his face. “Yes and I’m sorry. I really am,” he told you.

Grinding your teeth together, you ran your left hand over your forehead. You felt like crying and screaming simultaneously right now. Though you figured neither of those reactions would actually manage to keep Matt here with you tonight, not with whatever it was he was so desperate to go out and deal with.

“Fine,” you ground out through your teeth. “Tomorrow night, Matt. Don’t break another promise to me, please .”

He nodded quickly, smiling his usual charming smile back at you. “I won’t, you have my word, sweetheart,” he assured you. “I’m all yours tomorrow night.” He stepped forward, planting a brief, barely there kiss on your forehead. “I love you,” he whispered.

You stood there dumbfounded and speechless, watching as he didn’t even wait for a response. He simply spun around, hurrying over towards his coffee table and grabbing the helmet off of it that you must have interrupted him from putting on moments ago. He didn’t even give you a backwards glance or another word, darting over to the stairs and taking them to the roof access two at a time as he pulled the helmet over his face, obscuring his identity. 

And then he was out the door, leaving you standing there alone in his apartment with the grocery bags full of what was supposed to have been tonight’s romantic dinner in your hands.

“Love you, too,” you whispered to the empty room, not even certain he’d been listening outside.

Shoulders dropping in defeat, you made your way into his kitchen and over to the fridge. Pulling the door open, you saw how empty it was inside–more bare than usual even. Shaking your head at how little he’d been taking care of himself recently, you began to unload the groceries into his fridge, wondering if you really would be eating dinner with him tomorrow like he’d once again promised, or if he'd break it and your heart in one night.

All day long your heart had been in your throat, pounding so vigorously that it constantly left you feeling like you were going to somehow choke on it. It’d been like that ever since you’d woken up early this morning and pissed into a disposable cup that you’d had left over from your apartment warming party earlier this year–a time where you and Matt had certainly been happier together. You’d opened up all three pregnancy tests afterwards, putting each one in the cup for the allotted time that the instructions had said. And you’d certainly read them meticulously, going over them at least five times before you’d used them, wanting to make sure the results were accurate.

All three came back with two pink lines that were impossible to miss.

You’d nearly thrown up right then on the spot, terrified of being pregnant when you hadn’t planned on it. You were even more terrified at the prospect of telling Matt the news, even if he had always told you that he'd be there for you. You really didn't want to be alone, not in something like this. 

Though you knew his lifestyle certainly didn’t lend itself to him being a father–especially lately with how he was always out nearly all night pushing his body harder than he should’ve been. He certainly hadn’t been there for you much himself lately, either. How the hell was he going to handle finding out he was actually going to be a father? Could he actually be one with the way he kept prioritizing the people of Hell’s Kitchen above everything else, including his own well being? Because with how he’d been acting the past few weeks, breaking promise after promise to you, you weren’t so sure anymore. You weren’t even so sure of your relationship with him at this point, or what he even thought of it himself considering how little he’d been invested in it over the past few weeks.

Now here you were, once again standing just outside of his apartment door, struggling to find the courage to knock on it. And the fact that you’d been standing here for a few minutes wringing your hands and he had not even come to the door to answer it only meant one of two things. He was either distracted and getting ready to go out as Daredevil again, having forgotten once more about his plans with you, or he’d already gone out.

With a trembling hand, you forced yourself to finally knock on the door. If Matt didn’t answer then you supposed you’d have your answer on what he thought about the relationship. Still, that didn’t stop the way your hand continued to shake as you knocked, three loud, sharp raps ringing out that you knew he couldn’t possibly miss. Sucking in a breath, you held it as you waited anxiously for the sound of his footsteps.

It was only seconds later when you heard them, grimacing when they neared the door. They sounded far too heavy to have been his bare feet. They had to have been his boots, though you desperately hoped he just hadn’t taken off his dress shoes yet. Maybe he’d gotten home from work late. Your heart pounded harder in your chest as you clung to that hope.

The door swung open just a bit, revealing Matt’s face once again peering around it. He only ever hid around the side of the door when he was in his suit, trying to hide the evidence of his alter ego from the sight of his neighbors. But he at least had the nerve to look abashed and apologetic this time. Maybe he hadn’t forgotten he'd made plans with you, but from the bit of red peeking out behind the door, you knew what his plans had actually been for the night.

“Hey, come on in, sweetheart,” he said softly.

Jaw tight, you wrapped your arms across your chest and stepped inside past him. You could feel your chest tightening as you looked over your shoulder, watching as Matt closed the door after you and giving you plenty of time to examine him in his red suit. He once again had everything already pulled on except for his helmet, which a quick glance over to the living room proved was sitting out expectantly on his coffee table. You hugged your arms tighter around your chest, eyes dropping dejectedly down to the floor. You supposed you’d had your answer now, even if you hadn’t voiced the question.

Daredevil and Hell’s Kitchen meant more to him than you or this unborn child probably would. And you figured they probably always would mean more to Matt. 

And that fucking hurt.

Your vision blurred as tears began to well in your eyes. Hands balling tighter into fists, you could feel the faint tremble beginning in your knees. You had a feeling this wasn't going to end well, one way or another. Because you certainly couldn't stand to be treated like this any longer, especially not if you were going to be having a child, and he certainly didn't seem to care about how he had been treating you. 

“Sweetheart,” Matt began carefully, “I know I promised to stay in tonight. I know that. But there’s a meeting going on tonight with the Russians. I might be able to disrupt it if I leave here soon.”

You sniffled, trying to stop the tears from falling. The sound caused Matt to wince, his head snapping towards you instantly. He reached a hand out to your shoulder, clearly intending to try and comfort you, but you abruptly twisted out of his reach, uncaring if the gesture hurt him. He’d already hurt you plenty already.

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry,” he apologized.

“No you’re not,” you grit out, glaring up at him. “Stop saying that, Matt. You’re not sorry or you wouldn’t keep breaking your promises to me.”

His dark brows drew together on his face, his head canting to the side. He actually looked confused and for some reason that only had you wanting to laugh–though you didn't. 

“Of course I’m sorry. Do you think I like hurting you?” he asked. 

“Then stop doing it, Matt,” you openly begged. “Take off the suit. Stay in with me tonight. Hell, stop by the precinct long enough to just give Mahoney a tip for the meeting and then come back, even. But–” you swallowed hard, a lump forming in your throat as you felt the tears threatening to spill, “–don’t break another promise to me, Matt. Not tonight. Please . I am actually begging you this time.”

Matt inhaled a sharp breath, his lips thinning as he gazed down at you. A second later his gloved hands landed on his hips, something you knew he did when he was frustrated. The first tear slipped down your cheek at the sight, watching as his weight shifted back and forth between his feet.

“Sweetheart,” Matt began, an edge to his tone, “you know this is what I do. You’ve always known that. Always. And you agreed to be with me anyway.” He waved a hand at his suit, his eyes narrowing back at you. “This is a part of me. A part of my life. It isn’t going anywhere.”

"I know that, Matt," you told him, voice breaking as you spoke, more tears streaking down your face. "But this? Going out every night? Not sleeping or eating? Not giving your body time to heal? That isn't good for you. And the way you've been neglecting our relationship–"

"I have not been neglecting it, sweetheart," he said dryly, cutting you off.

You startled at his tone, gasping in surprise. Matt had never spoken to you like this before, and certainly not when you'd been so visibly upset. There was no way he couldn't tell the tears were rolling down your cheeks right now, no way he couldn't tell that you were crying. 

"There are things going on in Hell’s Kitchen that I need to deal with," he continued roughly, his face firm as he spoke. "And that's exactly what I'm going to do tonight."

"Matt," you began softly, trying to fight the tremble in your voice, "I told you at lunch there was something important I needed to tell you tonight. To talk with you about."

He shifted again on his feet, his hands tightening on his hips. His lips pressed further together in irritation, his eyes hardening back at you in a way that didn't feel like the Matt you'd always known. He looked cold and unyielding right now.

"Then you can tell me later tonight, after I deal with this," he told you. 

"It's important , Matt," you pushed. "We need to talk. We need to–"

"And it'll still be important later," he snapped, turning and heading down the hall towards his living room. "I need to go. I don't have time to argue with you right now."

His words hit you hard, your arms hugging around yourself even tighter. Was he really going to prioritize this city over you again ?

You hurried down the hall after him, watching as he snatched his helmet from off the coffee table. You could feel your panicked pulse jumping in your throat as you wiped the back of your hand across your damp cheeks. You needed to try to get him to listen. He needed to know what you'd found out this morning–that you were pregnant with his child. You didn't want to be alone figuring things out right now, not after discovering just how much your life was changing only this morning. You wanted Matt to hold you and tell you everything would be alright. That he'd meant it when he said before that he would be there for you.

You didn’t want to be alone. Not right now. Not with this.

"Matt, stop, please," you pleaded again. "Stay and talk to me." You swallowed hard, wincing as your next words came out sounding so weak and broken. "I need you."

He spun on his heel towards you, the movement so abrupt that you startled and stumbled a step back. Your eyes instantly widened in shock at the anger reflecting back at you, the set of his features more of the Devil than your usual sweet Matty. 

"I'm not doing this right now!" he snarled at you. "This city needs me, too. If you want to talk, you can wait for me here until I get back. Otherwise–" he snapped, throwing a hand towards the apartment door, "–you know where the door is, sweetheart. Feel free to leave!"

Your mouth fell open in shock at his words, entirely speechless as you gaped back at him. He pulled the helmet on over his head, covering the anger in his eyes but not the sneer on his mouth–the same mouth that had only ever curled into loving smiles at you previously.

"You can't be serious," you whispered. 

" Completely ," he growled at you. "Feel free to leave like everyone else that can't accept me for who I am."

"Matt, that's not–"

"I'll be back later," he said, tone suddenly indifferent as he turned and made his way towards the stairs. "Be here or don't. That's on you."

The tears began to spill down your cheeks faster at his words, a hand flying over your mouth to muffle the sob that slipped out of you. Matt continued on his way up the stairs, his focus only on the door to the roof. He didn't make any attempt to comfort you or to keep you here. No attempt to apologize or to show his willingness to listen to you or your needs. He didn't do anything other than walk out that door and let it close with a loud bang behind himself. 

A strangled sob slipped out of your lips as you stumbled backwards again, overcome with a surge of emotions as the tears continued to burn hot trails down your cheeks. Your arms slid down your chest, wrapping lower around your abdomen. Gaze dropping down towards it, another whimper left you. Somewhere in there was Matt’s child. And it felt like he couldn’t have cared in the least–about you or what you had needed to tell him. Not with the way he'd just walked out on you like that. 

Which meant he probably wouldn’t even have cared if you had broken the news to him. If he’d given you a moment to tell him that you were pregnant, you were sure he’d still have stormed off into the night. He’d still have believed he was needed more in Hell’s Kitchen than by you and this unborn child. Which left you feeling exactly the way you didn’t want to be feeling.

Alone.

Spinning on your heel, you hurried back down his entryway hall before flinging his apartment door open. The sound of your own sobs filled your ears as you slammed the door shut behind yourself. As you stepped out into the hallway, you hoped Matt heard the way it had banged shut. Hoped it hurt him as much as he'd just hurt you. Because no matter what he said, he was the one who’d chosen to walk out the door first– not you.

But if that’s the way he wanted things, you weren’t going to beg him anymore. He could have his beloved city. You had other things you needed to focus on. Like finding an obstetrician and picking up prenatal vitamins. Figuring out what to expect during pregnancy and how the hell you were going to raise a child by yourself in New York City. Because you were certain Matt wouldn’t be in the picture, not in any way that would actually help you. And while you knew you didn’t have the heart to keep your child from their father, you still had almost nine more months before Matt really needed to know the truth. 

You pushed the button for the elevator at the end of the hall, wiping your hands across your cheeks. It hurt you more than he'd ever know for you to have walked out that door tonight, but you also knew you deserved better. Knew that he wouldn't be any help to you while you were pregnant, not with the way he'd been acting. He'd only make everything more complicated and difficult for you. You'd tell him eventually, when you'd had time to cool off and to try to get over him and this failed relationship. After you’d had time to figure things out when it came to having this baby. You'd make sure he eventually knew the truth before the baby was born, but right now you needed to accept that you were on your own and that things were over with Matt.

So to hell with the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen.

[l-littlebird-l]

• A Dirty Birthday •

Sebastian Sallow & Ominis Gaunt x MC (Smut)

— Requests are Open —

Summary: Sebastian talks Ominis into sneaking in your dormitory at the break of dawn on your birthday. After waking you from little to no sleep, Sebastian proposed a game. The game was simple: You will be blindfolded, testing the limits of your friendship. Guess which one of them is which. If you guess right, the two of them will buy out everything The Three Broomsticks has to offer. If you guess wrong, they get the privilege to do whatever they please with you.

—

On the morning of your birthday, having snatched just a few hours of sleep, you awoke to the distant murmur of voices, a soft blur that drew nearer like mist rolling in. Your tired eyes fluttered as you shifted in your bed, too drained to acknowledge the growing symphony. Suddenly, a sensation enveloped you—a swift tug, and the once-enshrouding blanket slipped away, leaving your skin exposed to a shiver-inducing rush of cold air. A soft "Mmm..." tumbled from your lips, a muted protest, as a pair of hands gently coaxed you out of bed.

“Are you sure this is a good idea, Sebastian?” A familiar, soft, unsure voice resonated around you.

“Of course it is, Ominis. Why wouldn’t it be?” A natural grumble of Sebastian’s voice swayed as you found yourself guided with gentle precision towards the heart of your room. Your eyes still heavy with remnants of sleep, remained sealed shut. Your fingers instinctively sought to dispel the veil of haze, rubbing your eyelids tiredly as you wobbled in place.

A quiet sound of Ominis sighing fell before you. Gradually, the tender warmth of hands enveloped your sight from behind, shielding your vision.

“Accio,” the sonorous resonance of wood dragging across the stone floors piqued your awareness. With a deliberate motion, your hand extended upwards, your fingers finding purchase around the wrist that guarded your sight.

You grumbled, the fragments of drowsiness still clinging to your voice, "What’s… the meaning of this?”

“We had an idea last night,” Sebastian’s voice behind you lingered as he guided you into the chair that once was in the corner of your room.

A soft swish within the air brought by Sebastian's incantation, summoned forth a smooth and satin fabric, weaving the cloth of obscurity where his hand once held sway. The fabric settled softly across your skin, its embrace fastened over your lashes, enveloping you in a veil of darkness.

“Really… a blindfold?” Your fingers traced a path along the fabric delicately, adjusting its position. “I find it unfair that only one of us can see.” A wry smile played upon your lips as you voiced your jest, eliciting a quiet chuckle from Ominis only a few steps away.

“We’re going to play a little game…” A tender hand grazed your shoulder, its touch lingering across your flesh as the sound of their footsteps painted circles around you. A warm breath brushed against your ear, carrying Sebastian's voice as he whispered.

"A game..?" You stammered, a note of surprise infusing your voice as your body tensed with his touch.

"We're going to put our friendship to the test," Sebastian’s voice oscillated with certainty. "If you win, a feast of everything The Three Broomsticks has to offer will be yours.”

“Well, that seems harmless enough, but why the blindfold?” A trace of curiosity threaded through your voice.

His fingers curled over your shoulder, accompanied by the enveloping warmth of his presence against your other ear, his dark whisper unfurling, evoking a shiver that crawled up your spine. “You’re going to have to guess which of us is who. Simple enough?” Sebastian’s withdrawal left behind a soft crimson hue that crawled up the back of your nape like a fleeting caress.

A meandering path of warmth, guided by another pair of digits traced a tender route along your cheek, snaking slowly across your skin as they depart from your chin. The air around you stirred with swirling footsteps and a gentle breeze.

“And… if I do this you’ll keep your word?” You asked quietly, a tinge of nervousness laying beneath your breath.

“That’s right,” Sebastian’s voice carried in front of you.

“All that you could desire,” Ominis’ voice materialized against the strands of hair that veils your ear, eliciting a subtle start from you.

You inhaled deeply, your fingers absently toying with the rim of your nightdress, which rested provocatively against your thighs. The fabric, silky and abbreviated, exuded audacity with its scarcity of shoulder straps and delicate thinness. A sense of vulnerability enveloped you, as you found yourself inadequately prepared, denied the opportunity to change before becoming enmeshed in this little game of theirs.

“No need to be nervous, darling. Only one of us can see that risqué shift of yours.” Sebastian remarked with a faint sneer, having shifted from his previous position.

"What is she wearing?" Ominis inquired with a near-stammer, momentarily taken aback by Sebastian's comment.

"Find out for yourself, Ominis." Sebastian said.

"Wait, what?" A jolt coursed through you, causing your heart to quicken.

“Come now, I know you’d be more than willing to let Ominis explore that thin little dress of yours.” Sebastian’s words resonated, their impact sinking deeply as a brush of fingertips traced a fleeting line across your collarbones.

A warm flush swept across your cheeks, stealing your breath away. Your teeth nervously nibbling at your lower lip, yielding no protest. A gentle caress held your cheek, its touch tracing a tender pattern over your heated flesh.

"She's flustered," Ominis said softly, his hand retaining a subtle presence.

Sebastian's derisive tone gibed with a quiet sneer, "Don't make it obvious it’s you touching her.”

Ominis' soft touch withdrew as they both resumed their circling around you once more.

A delicate caress of fingers swept the side of your throat, tucking your hair aside with a low breath blowing against your exposed skin. A hushed gasp slipped past your lips, stirred by the sensation. "Sebastian?" You ventured, your guess accompanied by an attempt to steady your breathing. However, the silence that followed yielded no response.

The warm breath advanced, caressing your neck before settling against your ear, its heat evoking a constellation of goosebumps across your skin. Instinctively, your hand rose to push outward, seeking a presence that seemed elusive. Yet, your hand met only empty air, finding no one in its grasp. Your words faltered, quivering softly. "Ominis..?" You inquired, your voice carrying a trace of uncertainty.

"Do you truly believe Ominis possesses such audacity?" Sebastian's voice, finally positioned behind you, a hint of amusement as he hovered over your shoulder. A subdued snicker following his words. "You don’t know us at all," he taunted, his presence withdrawing as he moved away, their footsteps circling around you once more. You swallowed, the pounding of your heartbeat resounding heavily within your chest.

You felt a soft brush against the bare expanse of your thigh, compelling your nails to grip into the hem of your shift, inadvertently drawing it higher without your awareness.

“Sebastian..?” Your voice hitched through the part of your lips.

“Not this time,” Ominis’ voice lingered as his fingers traced a path along your soft skin, just below the hem of your dress.

"Keep your hand there, Ominis. She likes it,” Sebastian derided, a subtle elevation of your chin, an action seemingly to be his.

"This game is impossible," you murmured, your hand extending to clasp around his wrist, the rhythm of his veins resonating with his heartbeat beneath your touch.

"You wish to win, do you not?" Sebastian's words brushed against your lips. With a hesitant nod, you agreed with a sense of reluctance.

“A change in plans… If you guess wrong then we get the privilege to do as we please with you, free of consequences." Sebastian declared, his tone bearing a knowing darkness.

"Sebastian," Ominis interjected softly, his demur near your thighs.

"It’s only fair, we are paying for her meals after all," Sebastian’s thumb lightly grazes the curve of your bottom lip.

"It’s… fair," you conceded softly, your compliance offered without protest.

The faint sound of a smirk seemed to emanate from Sebastian's lips just before you. His breath slowly dissipates along with the release of his hold beneath your chin. In tandem, Ominis’ subtle touch followed suit, tracing a concluding path along your thigh before pulling away.

A snaking hand brushed against your shoulder once more, drawing the strap of your shift downward. "Sebastian—," you exasperated, knowing full well that touch was his doing.

Suddenly, a hand took hold of your jaw, angling your head back as lips pressed firmly against yours. A soft unexpected moan escaped your lips, mingling with the sensation of his kiss. Your fingers instinctively wrapped around his wrist, his lips embracing the contour of your bottom lip with a delicate touch. As the kiss deepened, your grip around his wrist began to slacken, the allure of the moment eclipsing the game entirely. The tender embrace of the kiss persisted, until eventually he withdrew, leaving you speechless. Your fingers rose to trace the touch that had lingered on your lips, a warmth resonating within you.

"S— Sebastian..?" You muttered with uncertainly, your voice carrying a blend of astonishment and bewilderment, still reeling from the unexpected kiss.

"Wrong," Ominis' voice reverberated beside you, his breath ghosting against your ear and eliciting a shiver running down your spine.

A rustling sound punctuated the stillness, causing your heart to briefly come to a halt. Lips pressed against yours once again, but this time it was different. The kiss was harsh, almost aggressive, characterized by parted lips and a raw hunger. Your gasps intermingled with the press of his lips, his fingers curling into the back of your hair, tightening possessively. A shudder coursed through your frame as his lips captured your bottom lip between his teeth, tugging at it. The sensation elicited another gasp, which was promptly swallowed by his insistent kiss. His fingers tugged at your hair as he deepened the kiss, his tongue seeking entry and snaking along yours in a heated mess. With a reluctant withdrawal, he released your lips, his fingers still entwined in your hair. His heavy breath mingled with yours, a soft sneer punctuating the charged air around you.

"Failed again," Sebastian reveled, his lips tenderly grazing against yours. "You know what that means?"

Your thoughts swirled recklessly, bounding you in place. A shallow gulp cut through the air of silence as you came to terms with your ignorance, your voice faltering as you accepted defeat.

"You don’t know the own taste of your friends lips?" Sebastian queried, his grip around your hair tightening. As your head was drawn back by his grip, a faint wince slipped your lips.

"How… how could I possibly know that?" You shuddered, your fingers clenching the corner of your chair.

"You've observed Ominis' lips intently enough; I assumed you'd recognize them," Sebastian sneered tantalizingly.

"She what?" Ominis inquired, his curiosity piqued, his fingers trailing tenderly over your thigh once more as if it draws for his attention.

"Sebastian," you asserted, swatting his hand from your hair.

"Why would you suggest such a thing?" You lifted your hand to remove the blindfold, your patience with the game reaching its limits. However, just as your fingers began to curl beneath the fabric, a hand seized your wrists, firmly holding them together in a single grip, preventing any movement.

"You know the rules," Sebastian reminded you with a resolute tone.

A soft chuckle resonated from Ominis beside you as a pair of hands firmly enclosed around your thighs. In response, your thighs pressed together involuntarily, your heart racing from his the touch.

"You were right, Sebastian," Ominis spoke quietly from below, his thumbs circling your skin in a soothing motion.

"I always am," Sebastian retorted, his hold on your wrists tightening.

"Sebastian, is this really necessary? I promise I won’t remove the blindfold," you implored, making an attempt to liberate your wrists from his grip.

"Just a bit longer," he insisted.

Ominis' hands brushed softly against the outer contours of your thighs, leaving a trail of tingling sensation in their wake. A tender kiss landed at the center of your skin, prompting an involuntary sound from your lips. The amusement in Sebastian's hum was evident as his finger inched over your camisole, ultimately drifting down towards the ridge of your clothing. His touch gently glided over your erect nipple, sending a shiver through you. Attempting to tug your wrists free from his grip, you found his hold unwavering as he held them securely above your head.

"Sebastian..." you whispered, your body trembling from just a simple touch.

"My name isn't the one you should be saying with those pretty lips," Sebastian hushed, his fingers traveling along the contour of your breast. Your gown so thin, giving little resistance against his audacious touch. His fingers mold to your supple form, squeezing your breast softly, causing you to draw a sharp breath.

Ominis forcefully parted your legs, eagerly positioning himself between them. His hands maintained a gentle grasp along the outside of your thighs, urging your dress upward. His lips trailed heated kisses across the field of your skin, igniting a cascade of goosebumps that raced across your flesh. The sensation prompted a subtle arch in your back, the tingling touch leaving its fervent burns. A quiet hitch of breath escaped, your lips tinted with lust.

A sudden, unfamiliar warmth pressed against the damp fabric that concealed your intimate core. You attempted to push your thighs together, seeking some semblance of control, but Ominis' hands firmly held them in place. His tongue glided sensually against the soaked fabric, playfully kissing and licking at your clothed folds.

"Ominis..." You moaned softly, your arms going limp within Sebastian's grasp.

"That's it..." Sebastian's grin held a wicked edge as he watched you surrender, completely under their control now.

"Sebastian, she's drenched..." Ominis murmured softly against your clothed folds, his fingers deftly curling beneath the strings that adorned your hips. With a swift tug, he removed your knickers, casting them aside.

"Ominis..." You shuddered, your thighs quivering in response to his audacious behavior. A subtle, almost imperceptible shift widened the gap between your thighs, an invitation conveyed through your trembling body.

“Is that pretty cunt of yours wet for Ominis, or for me?” Sebastian hummed, his words delivered with a sneer. He drew your hands from above your head, placing them against his trousers, your fingers blindly lacing his undeniable hardness pulsating from beneath.

You were rendered speechless, your teeth pressing into your lower lip as you attempt to find composure. Sebastian gently guided your hand, encouraging a stroking motion, eliciting a relieved moan from his lips as you delicately traced your fingers over the outline of his clothed cock.

Ominis extended his tongue, licking a long heated path against your exposed flesh, an overwhelming fire coursing through you. You sighed softly from his touch, your fingers clenched around Sebastian's throbbing arousal, drawing a low growl from him.

Your fingers fumbled along the fabric of his trousers, finding the buttons that concealed his stiffness. You deftly pushed the button through its slit, tugging Sebastian’s trousers down.

"Eager, aren't we?" Sebastian's fingers ran through your hair gently, granting you full control over your actions.

Meanwhile, Ominis pressed his tongue between your slick folds, sliding it up and down your wetness, savoring every inch of flavor. Your efforts to maintain a steady hand grew increasingly difficult as the overwhelming sensations threatened to take control over you. A soft, involuntary moan escaped your lips, enveloping you whole.

You gasped, your hips buckling in response of the intrusion. Your hands quivered against Sebastian's hips as you shakily slid your fingers beneath the hem of his briefs, tugging with a subtle resistance until they yielded. His arousal sprang forward from the release as you enveloped your fingers around his warm veiny cock, pumping it slowly.

Sebastian's head tilted back with a guttural groan, his cock twitching in your hand. "Fuck..." He moaned, his fingers coiling tightly in your hair.

Ominis' tongue continued its relentless path along your clit, inducing a fervent writhing within your seat, nearly pulling away from him in the throes of pleasure. He anchored you firmly in place by hooking his arms beneath your thighs. Your legs draped over his arms, his hands maintaining a secure grip around your hips.

"Oh, fuck... Ominis..." You gasped, your voice ladened with desperation.

Sebastian's patience seemed to wane, forcefully pushing your head down until the tip of his throbbing cock pressed against your lips. His pre-cum warm and sticky.

"Open for me, darling," he commanded, his grip around your hair tightening once more.

You felt his gaze beaming down on you as you slowly parted your lips and enveloped the crown of his cock. Gradually, you descended, taking his length into your mouth at a leisurely pace. His arousal was warm and pulsating, the veins adorning his flesh glided against your tongue perfectly.

"Good girl..." He purred. "If only Ominis could witness what that pretty mouth of yours is doing."

Ominis raised his head, his tongue sensuously licking his lips clean of your lingering wetness. "If only you could taste this pretty cunt of hers," he mused, a note of breathlessness in his voice.

"Fuck, don't tempt me Ominis..." Sebastian exhaled, pushing his length further down your throat, causing you to gag around his cock. Your nails dig into Sebastian's hips as you slowly began bobbing your head, diligently wetting his cock.

"Go easy on her, Sebastian," Ominis urged softly before he descended between your thighs once more, lavishing your soaking core with a series of wet, sloppy kisses. He wrapped his lips around your swollen bud with a delicate touch, suctioning and twirling his tongue around it hungrily.

"Mmph..." You moaned breathlessly against Sebastian's cock, the vibrations of your moan prompting a husky groan from his lips.

"Ah... fuck... keep going," Sebastian demanded, his grip on your hair easing as he subtly pushed his length in and out of your mouth.

Ominis withdrew one arm from around your thigh, softly gliding it along your leg before ultimately pushing his finger into your slick entrance. Your body retracted, a moan instantly escaping around Sebastian's cock. However, Sebastian's firm hold pushed your head further down his throbbing shaft, granting you no reprieve.

"I didn't say you could stop," Sebastian insisted, thrusting deeply down your throat.

Ominis drove another finger forcefully inside you, initiating a relentless pace within your tight core, your legs growing weaker with every breath you take. Ominis quickened his pace, his lips suctioning ravenously around your clit. Just as you felt yourself teetering on the brink of climax, he slowed down, withdrawing his lips from your needy cunt, leaving you hanging on the precipice of orgasm.

"She's close," Ominis hummed, his voice dripping with lust.

Sebastian sneered, drawing you back by your hair from his cock with a wet, suction-like noise. Finally, you could breathe freely again, your chest heaving as you attempted to regain your thoughts.

You felt Sebastian’s grasp around your hair dissipate as Ominis pulled away from your inner thighs. You were left there trembling, your cheeks a fiery shade of red. You inherently reached to remove your blindfold, but gentle hands intervened, preventing you from doing so.

"Wha—," you muttered, a color of confusion resonating within your voice.

"The game isn't over, my dear little bird," Ominis whispered softly, pulling your hands from the cloth that concealed your sight.

To Sabastian’s surprise, Ominis enjoyed this game just as much as he did. You felt the whirl of footsteps around you once more, baffled.

"It's not?" You asked, pouting slightly as you tried to make sense of the situation.

Ominis curled his fingers over your hands, pulling you from the chair. Your legs trembled slightly as you regained your poise.

“You still haven’t guessed which one of us gets to fuck that needy little cunt of yours,” Ominis’ voice carried with an undertone of hunger.

His words sent shivers down your spine, leaving you utterly baffled by what he was proposing, even Sebastian seemed caught off guard.

"Oh, so now you think this was a good idea, Ominis?" Sebastian sneered from behind you.

Ominis scoffed. You felt a tug at your hands, proceeding you towards your bed.

"Ominis, you can't just that and then be gentle with her. You're so confusing. Be a rough. It'll keep her guessing," Sebastian suggested, his tone laced with amusement.

"Then you be gentle," Ominis responded cryptically, his voice a soft counterpoint to Sebastian's.

Suddenly, a pair of hands pushed you backward, causing you to gasp as you tumbled onto your bed, the soft mattress providing an unexpected landing.

"Ominis—" you exclaimed, caught off guard by his actions.

"What makes you think that was me?" Ominis retorted softly, leaving you speechless and disoriented.

The two of them seemed to be playing a game of their own, leaving you thoroughly baffled. The weight of one of them settled on the bed behind you, and you couldn't help but grin, thinking you had it all figured out.

"It's much harder to conceal who's who if we're on a bed," your lips curl into a wider smile, confident in your own deduction.

"Is that so?" Ominis responded, his voice now seemingly coming from behind you.

"She thinks she’s got it all figured out," Sebastian taunts, his voice now in front of you, effectively shattering what you thought you knew.

Hands pressed firmly around your throat, tilting your head back into Ominis' shoulder while Sebastian pried your legs apart with a forceful touch. Their roughness left your voice hitching as your heated cavern pools with desire.

Lips crashed against yours with an insatiable hunger, immediately engaging your tongue in a messy dance. You moaned softly into the wet, desperate kiss, your tongue flicking sensuously against his.

Sebastian tugged you towards the edge of the bed, hoisting your thigh up with one hand. His throbbing tip traced a tantalizing path up and down your drenched folds, eliciting a shudder that reverberated through your body and onto the lips that devoured yours.

A sudden push into your core elicited a gasp, Sebastian's cock slowly breaching your entrance. You clung tightly to the bedsheets, biting down on his bottom lip to stifle your moans. The fingers wrapped around your throat squeezed gradually, temporarily cutting off your breath.

"Choke her harder, Ominis," Sebastian groaned, a sinister edge creeping into his voice, as they continued their relentless pursuit.

Your heart raced as you realized it was Ominis who possessed your lips and throat, his nails gently digging into your skin before he released his grip. He turned your head towards the side, his lips trailing from yours down to your throat, leaving a field of wet kisses that elicited soft moans through your parted lips.

Sebastian maintained a slow, steady pace, his cock thrusting in and out of you with an unrelenting rhythm. Your tightness around him caused him to grunt softly. "Fuck..."

Ominis' fingers curled under the hem of your satin shift, gradually pulling it up and over your chest until it halted at your shoulders. His lips, unwilling to part with your neck, left a gentle bite before finally letting go. He removed the rest of the camisole, leaving you completely pure of clothing. His hand circled around your breast, squeezing it gently as he planted butterfly kisses up and down your neck, his lips drawing along your collarbone and trailing across your shoulder.

Sebastian's forceful thrust sent a sharp cry of pleasure escaping your lips as you gripped the bedsheets tightly, your nails digging into the fabric. "Sebastian..." You moaned, biting down on your bottom lip.

He pressed the pads of his fingers into your thighs, leaving faint bruises in his wake as he quickened his pace. "Fuck..." He groaned, his cock pulsating within you. Sebastian’s nails nicked into your skin as he demanded you to say his name again. “Again, say it again.”

"S— Sebastian... fuck..." You gasped, beads of sweat forming across your body as you desperately moaned his name.

"Harder..." You begged, your voice filled with desperation as you fell back limp against Ominis' chest.

Your words sparked a dark fire within him. He slowed his pace, teasingly leaving you yearning for more. Ominis pulled away, allowing Sebastian to take full control. He flipped you onto your hands and knees, the blindfold finally relinquished at long last.

Sebastian's hips slammed into your ass with unbridled force, nearly eliciting a scream from you. He wrapped your hair around his fingers, using it as an anchoring point to thrust his hips vigorously against your body, each powerful movement driving you further to the edge.

“Fuck…” You gasped, your eyes finally laying upon Ominis before you. You watched as he unbuttoned his trousers and pulls them down along with his briefs, his cock flinging out before you, twitching with desperation. You couldn’t keep your eyes off of him.

Ominis palmed his arousal briefly before pressing the sticky crowned tip against your lustful lips. You eagerly complied, opening your mouth and enveloping your lips around his throbbing cock. The relentless thrusts from Sebastian pushed you forward, forcefully taking in the rest of Ominis’ cock. You gagged, your throat constricting tightly around him.

Ominis’ face usually composed, now bestows a heavy hue of redness within his cheeks, sweat dripping down his jaw with labored breaths. The sight destroyed you.

As Sebastian pounds into you, you felt yourself tightening with each thrust, almost reaching your own limits.

Your mouth worked diligently around Ominis' arousal, a symphony of moans and gasps filling the air alongside Sebastian's powerful thrusts. Ominis ran his fingers tenderly through your hair, cradling the back of your head with each descent into your mouth. The sensations coursing through your body pushed you over the edge, trembling on your knees.

Sebastian's hands gripped around your ass firmly, a loud clasp against your skin sends tears welling within your eyes, a wince formed around Ominis’ cock.

Ominis shuddered, his cock twitching within your mouth as he released his salty mix, filling your mouth completely full, choking on it. His cum dripped from the corners of your lips, trailing down your chin as you struggled to swallow it all.

Sebastian's nails dig into your flesh as his thrusts gradually slowed. "Fuck... I'm gonna cum," he exclaimed, savoring every last second. With a final powerful thrust, he growled deeply, his cock twitching within your defiled cunt, releasing his load deep within you. You fell against the bed, exhausted and breathless. Your cheeks flushed, your eyes fluttering shut, too tired to do anything else. The bedsheets below you formed a tangled mess, adorned with sweat and cum.

Sebastian gradually eased his hips, thrusting gently in and out of your cunt before withdrawing. A trail of his cum leaked down your trembling thighs, you couldn't help but emit a soft, satisfied moan from the tingling sensation.

Sebastian's sinister snicker sliced through the air, his words dripping with tantalizing satisfaction. "Such a good little slut for us, aren't you?"

“But we’re not done with you yet,” Ominis’ voice resonated with a tinge of dissatisfaction.

Your weary eyes fluttered open, tracking Ominis as he silently circled the bed and assumed the position behind you. With an effort, you rolled onto your side, tracing his every movement, weakly muttering, "What do you mean you're not finished..?"

"Isn't it obvious, darling?" Sebastian's voice floated around the bed as he takes Ominis’ previous position.

You tilted your head back, catching a glimpse of Sebastian hovering over you as you finally turn onto your back. He leaned down, his lips brushing your earlobe as he whispered softly, "Ominis didn't get to fuck that pretty little cunt of yours."

Shock and realization rippled through you as you turned your focus back to Ominis.

Ominis wraps his hands around your welted thighs and pulled you closer to his hips, his grip firm on your thighs, his eagerness palpable as his cock twitched in suspension.

Exhaustion weighed heavily upon you, your voice reduced to a feeble breath. "Ominis...”

With his fingers wrapped around his base, he teasingly traced the tip of his cock along the outskirts of your entrance. "Hmm… Aren't you curious? To have my cock deep inside you?" He pushed his tip just barely inside your cunt, eliciting a deep arch of your back as your head sank into the mattress, overwhelmed by the intense stimulation. "Fuck..." You gasped, your body responding despite the fatigue.

The crown of Ominis' cock finally penetrated, your hips involuntarily buckled as your fingers trembled at your sides.

"Ominis, please..." You begged, swaying your hips subtly.

"Hmm? What was that?" He teased, towering over you, pushing just a little further inside.

Sebastian's hand trailed a course down your bare body, his fingertips skimming your midriff until they found their destination. Goosebumps rippled across your flesh, curling your toes as your heart begins to race harder.

"Please..." You begged louder, your panting growing more urgent. "Fuck me, Ominis..."

Ominis’ lips curled into a grin as he pushed himself forcefully into you, eliciting a desperate cry from your lips. Sebastian’s fingers began circling your clit while his other hand found its way around your breast, relentlessly kneading your supple mount.

Your voice hitched from the overwhelming sensations. Ominis' cock fit perfectly within your tight, messy cunt. His movements a bit ragged compared to Sebastian’s smoother stride.

"Oh fuck—" You gasped, your hand reaching down towards Sebastian's wrist as he rolled the pad of his middle finger over your swollen clit, causing you to moan their names.

"Such a good little slut," Sebastian whispered against your ear. "You like it when Ominis fucks that cunt of yours?"

Your eyebrows furrowed together, squeezing your eyes shut as you frantically nodded.

"I didn't hear you," he growled against your ear.

"I... I..." You panted, unable to form coherent words.

Ominis slowed his pace, his form hovering above your, supported by his arms pressed into the bed. He questioned you with a dark tone, "You like it better with Sebastian's cock inside you, then?" His thrusts became increasingly intense, causing you to wince from the force.

"Oh fuck—" You yelped, almost certainly echoing within the corridors of the castle. You struggled for words as they both played with your senses relentlessly.

"Which one?" Ominis’ voice lowers in tone, almost an animalistic sound, increasing the rhythm of his thrusts.

You shuddered your nails digging into Sebastian’s wrist with a clouded mind. "Ominis— fuck..."

Sebastian sneered, observing you as you succumb to their little game. His lips met your breast, kissing and licking your pink bud softly while his finger continued to work on your clit, driving you closer to the edge. Your cunt tightened desperately around Ominis' cock as you felt yourself nearing your limits.

Beads of sweat dripped from Ominis' hair, falling against your midriff as he found the perfect rhythm. Sebastian's lips wrapped around your nipple, his tongue circling it, reflecting the movement of his hand below. Your body tensed slowly as your heart pounded within your chest.

"Oh fuck… I'm… I'm close…" You exclaimed breathlessly, your cunt tightening around Ominis' cock.

Sebastian's teeth grazed against your nipple as he deliberately slowed his finger down, prolonging your climax. He bit down softly, watching your visage as you approached the edge.

"Fuck…" Ominis growled, reaching his climax as well. Your head pressed back into the mattress, eyes rolling behind your lids as a surge of electricity raced up your legs, culminating where your two bodies meet. Euphoria washed over you, your body convulsing with pleasure as you gasped recklessly.

Your moans and gasps filled the air as you both climaxed. Ominis filled your cunt, overflowing onto the bed, causing a sticky mess. You found yourself completely unable to move, too tired to even think. You lay there in your own pool of cum and sweat, your chest heaving and your body quivering from exertion.

Ominis slowly pulled out, his cum dripping from his tip, falling beside you in bed with Sebastian on the other side of you. All three of you were exhausted. Sebastian brought his fingers toward his lips, licking his fingers clean of your sweet flavor with a smack of his lips.

"Mmm… you were right, Ominis. She does taste good," he smirked, his cock twitching from the delicious taste of you swirling around his tongue.

Ominis clasped his hand around the base of your neck and pulled you in close, his eyes effortlessly peering into yours despite his lack of sight.

"Happy Birthday," he said with a gentle press of his lips against yours.

"Can't wait for next year," Sebastian added, planting a wet kiss against your thigh.

Exhaustion weighed heavily upon you as you let out a soft, weary sigh. Your mind unable to conjure even the slightest inkling of what elaborate plans they might have in store for you.

[butterfly-lies-chase-them-away]

Behind the Mask - Jonathan Crane x Fem!Reader (ONESHOT)

Pairing: Jonathan Crane x Fem!Reader Scarecrow x Batgirl!Reader Word Count: 15079

Warnings: Enemies to Lovers, fear toxin, Scarecrow x Batgirl

Summary: (REQUEST) While chasing down the Scarecrow in Gotham, Y/n forms an unexpected bond with the mysterious figure. As their relationship deepens, Y/n finds herself navigating the blurred boundaries between friend and foe.

A/N: I got a request for Scarecrow x Batgirl!reader with enemies to lovers and I fucking JUMPED at this one, I did not mean to write this much, holy shit. I didn't really have a plan going into this one, so when I started writing, I was going from top to bottom, so whatever happened happened and I clearly went OFF! While writing this, I kinda had comic-book!Scarecrow in my brain for reasons I couldn't explain, but ya know... it's the same dude so yeah. I really hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it 💚

-

"I'll need you to be on watch in the Narrows tonight," Bruce instructed Y/n as he fastened his suit, his tone carrying the weight of his responsibilities.

"Any you want me to keep an eye one in particular?" Y/n asked, adjusting her own suit in preparation.

"Many, but the Scarecrow’s been more active recently, I want you to look out for him, I have the Joker to deal with." Bruce replied, his gaze distant as he mentally prepared for the night's challenges.

It had been a a few months since Y/n first became the Batgirl. Y/n often found herself in the wrong place at the wrong time, or perhaps it was the right place at the right time, depending on how one looked at it. As a bystander in Gotham City, she frequently stumbled upon scenes of crime and chaos, unwittingly becoming entangled in the city's never-ending struggle for order.

On one occasion, while walking home from work, Y/n witnessed a mugging in progress. Without hesitation, she sprang into action, using her self-defense skills to fend off the assailant and protect the victim. Little did she know, Batman had been monitoring the situation from the shadows, impressed by her bravery and resourcefulness.

This became a regular occurrence for Y/n after that, seeking out injustice in the city and protecting those in need. With each encounter, Y/n found herself drawn further into Batman's world, her actions catching his attention time and time again, forging an unexpected bond between herself and the Dark Knight.

Under Batman's guidance, Y/n evolved from a mere bystander into Batgirl, a symbol of hope and strength for the citizens of Gotham. With her skills and determination, she stood shoulder to shoulder with the Caped Crusader, ready to confront the darkness that threatened to consume their city.

The two of them went their separate ways, Y/n finding herself in the Narrows, poached on a building. And as if on cue, she heard screams coming from an alley. Immediately jumping into action, Y/n dropped down and rushed to the scene, and just as she expect, the man with a burlap mask stood over a helpless person, screaming and scratching on the floor.

"Refining your toxins, Scarecrow?" Y/n's voice echoed down the dimly lit alley, drawing his attention like a moth to a flame.

"Alone in the shadows, Batgirl?" Scarecrow's distorted voice floated back, his eerie presence sending shivers down Y/n's spine.

Without hesitation, Y/n surged forward, her determination driving her towards the looming figure of Scarecrow. Scarecrow's agility was surprising, a testament to his cunning and prowess.

Despite his speed, Y/n's athletic skills allowed her to gain ground. With a swift motion, she held out a Batarang, sending it spinning towards Scarecrow's feet. The makeshift trap worked like a charm, causing him to stumble and crash to the ground.

"Lost your footing?" Y/n taunted, her voice laced with determination.

"Lost your vision?" Scarecrow retorted, his words accompanied by a sudden burst of suspicious powder that engulfed Y/n's senses.

Coughing and disoriented, she struggled to maintain her balance as her surroundings blurred into a hazy fog.

In the midst of the chaos, Scarecrow seized the opportunity to strike, delivering a well-aimed kick that sent Y/n tumbling to the ground. With a pained groan, she collided with the unforgiving pavement, the impact jarring her senses and rattling her confidence.

As Scarecrow's footsteps faded into the distance, leaving behind only the distant echoes of the Narrows, Y/n cursed her carelessness. Still reeling from the encounter, she struggled to regain her bearings, her vision still clouded and her body aching from the fall. 

"This better not be permanent," Y/n muttered under her breath, frustration evident in her voice as she struggled to regain her footing amidst the haze of her blurry vision.

With the aid of the wall for support, Y/n navigated her way out of the Narrows, determination guiding her steps despite her impaired sight. Fumbling for her walkie-talkie, she summoned Batman, her admission tinged with a hint of embarrassment.

"Hey, uh... Could you bring the Batmobile? I can't see," Y/n confessed, her tone a clear indication of her frustration.

"On my way," Batman's reassuring voice crackled through the device.

As she waited at the end of the alleyway, the familiar roar of the Batmobile's engine signaled Batman's arrival. He lifted the roof of the vehicle, his presence a comforting presence in the midst of Y/n's uncertainty.

"You getting in?" Batman's usual impatience brought a hint of levity to the situation, his words a welcome distraction from Y/n's predicament.

"Yeah, could you help me? I can't see properly," Y/n admitted, her voice tinged with embarrassment. "It's all just a black blob."

Without hesitation, Batman leaped out of the car, his strong hand reaching out to guide Y/n safely into the vehicle. As they embarked on their journey through the city's shadowy streets, Y/n couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the steadfast ally by her side.

"Rough night?" Batman's gravelly voice broke the silence, cutting through the tension that hung in the air.

"You could say that," Y/n replied, her tone heavy with disappointment as she settled into the seat beside him. "Will my vision be like this permanently?" Y/n asked, the question bugging her for the last 10 minutes.

"Hard to tell with the Scarecrow, but you should be okay. It's a surprise he didn't use his fear toxin on you," Batman remarked, his voice betraying a hint of concern.

Y/n let out a sigh of resignation, her shoulders slumping as she leaned back against the seat. In the darkness of the Batmobile, surrounded by the faint hum of the engine and the steady rhythm of the city outside, she couldn't help but feel a sense of vulnerability. But even in her moment of uncertainty, she found solace in the presence of the silent guardian beside her, a reminder that she was never truly alone in the shadows of Gotham.

-

Fortunately for Y/n, her vision returned within an hour, relieving her of the temporary blindness. Despite Bruce's insistence that she call it a night and rest up, Y/n's determination to uncover more about their adversary remained unyielding. In the depths of the Batcave, she was immersed in her research, combing through databases and news articles in search of a lead.

"Thought you'd be down here, Master Bruce holding you back?" Alfred's familiar voice echoed through the cavernous space as he descended into the Batcave.

"No, I was supposed to head home an hour ago," Y/n admitted, her attention still fixed on the glowing screen before her.

"Well, shall I fetch you some supper then?" Alfred offered, ever the attentive caretaker.

"It's alright, Alfred. Thank you," Y/n replied, offering a grateful smile in his direction.

As Alfred approached, he cast a glance at the screen, taking note of Y/n's diligent research and the meticulous notes scattered around her workspace.

"My, you've certainly done quite the thorough job. It's no wonder you landed that internship," Alfred remarked, his tone filled with pride.

"You and I both know I only got that internship at Arkham because of Bruce's influence," Y/n laughed.

"You ought to give yourself more credit, Miss L/n," Alfred's voice held a gentle admonishment as he glanced over Y/n's work. "When is your first day, anyway?"

Glancing at the clock, Y/n realized it was already 1 AM. "Tomorrow," she answered.

"I beg of you to go home, Miss L/n. Your sleep schedule is bad enough as it is," Alfred urged, concern etched in his voice.

Y/n let out a weary sigh. "I guess I'll have to leave the Scarecrow for another time."

Y/n and Alfred made their way back up to Wayne Manor, Y/n gathering her belongings in preparation to depart. Despite her reluctance to leave her research behind, she knew that rest was necessary if she wanted to be at her best for the challenges that lay ahead. With one last glance at the Batcomputer, Y/n bid farewell to the Batcave, her mind already turning towards the mysteries that awaited her on her first day at Arkham.

-

Y/n's first day at Arkham Asylum began with a mix of anticipation and nervous energy. The towering, foreboding structure of the institution loomed against the gray skies of Gotham, its reputation preceding it.

Working at Arkham Asylum had always been a dream for Y/n, fueled by a deep fascination with the psychology of criminals. And there was no better place than Arkham. She was aware that Bruce had played a pivotal role in securing this internship for her, primarily to make it easier to access the criminals and their files. Yet, this knowledge did little to dampen her enthusiasm. In fact, she saw it as practical to use her role for the greater good, combining her academic interests with her goal to protect Gotham.

As she stepped through the heavy, security-laden doors, she was greeted by Dr. Penelope Young, one of Arkham's leading psychiatrists and her supervisor for the duration of the internship.

"Welcome to Arkham Asylum, Miss L/n. I'm Dr. Young. I'll be showing you around today and discussing what you can expect during your time here," Dr. Young said, offering a firm handshake that Y/n returned.

Their tour began in the more benign corridors of the asylum, where Dr. Young outlined the history of Arkham, its purpose, and its challenges. She spoke with a passion that contrasted the grim surroundings, her belief in rehabilitation and understanding of the human psyche evident in her every word.

"As you'll soon learn, Arkham is more than just a holding facility for Gotham's criminally insane. It's a place of complexity, where psychology and security intersect in ways you won't see anywhere else," Dr. Young explained as they navigated through secure checkpoints.

The tour included visits to various departments, including the high-security wards where Gotham's most notorious villains were held. Dr. Young's explanations were thorough, covering the protocols for dealing with dangerous inmates, the importance of mental health assessments, and the ongoing research aimed at better understanding and treating profound psychological disorders.

"Your role here, Miss L/n, will involve assisting with patient assessments, participating in therapy sessions, and contributing to our research projects. It's crucial work that not only helps us understand the minds of those we're treating but also aids in ensuring the safety of Gotham City," Dr. Young said, her tone serious yet encouraging.

As they concluded the tour in the library, filled with texts on psychology, criminology, and the history of Arkham itself, Dr. Young offered some final advice.

"Always remember, the work we do here is challenging and often thankless. But it's also incredibly important. You're going to see and experience things that will test you, but I believe you have the potential to make a real difference."

Y/n left the tour feeling a mixture of awe and trepidation. The weight of her responsibilities at Arkham Asylum was now fully realized, but so too was her determination to meet the challenges head-on. As she prepared for her first assignment, she couldn't help but feel that her journey into the heart of Gotham's darkness was only just beginning.

-

Patrolling the rooftops alongside Batman had become a familiar part of Y/n's night life, yet that particular night, her performance was far from her usual standard. Missteps, a lack of balance, and a series of other minor blunders affected her efforts. Aware of Bruce's patience, she nonetheless couldn't shake off the feeling that she was more of a liability than an asset to Batman during their late-night surveillance.

"Fuck, sorry," Y/n muttered, hastily picking herself up after her foot caught on an uneven crack on a rooftop in the Narrows.

Batman halted his advance, turning to face her with a concern that seemed to pierce through the shadows of his cowl. "You should head home, you need rest," he suggested.

Y/n's gaze dropped, a wave of embarrassment washing over her. She knew he was right, yet admitting it felt like conceding to a weakness she couldn't afford.

"You're exhausted. It's been a long day," Batman tried to reassure her, recognizing the toll the day's events had taken on her.

"I know, but I feel like I need to be here," Y/n insisted, her voice a mix of determination and frustration.

"Is this about the Scarecrow again?" Batman's question cut through the tension, his insight honing in on the heart of her persistence.

"...Yeah," Y/n admitted, a mix of resolve and vulnerability in her voice.

Her obsession with stopping Scarecrow had pushed her to her limits, yet she felt an unyielding need to confront the fear he spread across Gotham. In that moment, beneath the expanse of the night sky, her dedication to their cause was as clear as the weariness she fought against.

The Scarecrow was Y/n's first real challenge with one of Gotham's notorious Rogue's. Until now, her experiences had primarily involved run-ins with lesser-known criminals. Unmasking the Scarecrow, whose identity remained a mystery to all of Gotham, would be a monumental achievement for her.

"Why don't you hang back a bit? You can stay on the scene, but I'd rather you not engage in anything major," Batman suggested, his voice carrying a note of protective caution.

Y/n nodded in agreement. She decided to approach the situation with caution, opting for observation over direct confrontation. From her vantage point on a nearby rooftop, she kept a vigilant eye on the Narrows, tracking Batman's movements as he patrolled the shadowy labyrinth below. That's when she spotted him.

Quickly, she grabbed her radio to alert Batman. "Scarecrow spotted near the north apartments!" she reported, urgency lacing her voice.

As Batman sprang into action, heading towards the reported location, Y/n felt a surge of determination. She knew she couldn't just stand by. Moving with purpose, she leaped across rooftops, her movements a blend of precision and grace, as she closed in on the two. Her heart raced with a mix of excitement and fear, fully aware of the dangers that lay ahead yet driven by a deep-seated resolve to make a difference.

His pursuit was relentless, a testament to years of honing his skills for moments just like this. The Scarecrow, a master of terror and manipulation, darted ahead, his movements erratic and desperate, aware that the Dark Knight was closing in on him.

The Scarecrow, realizing the inevitability of his capture, turned to face Batman, a sinister smile playing across his lips, hidden beneath the grotesque mask that had become his signature.

In a swift movement, Scarecrow pulled from his tattered coat a small canister, unleashing a cloud of his fear toxin directly at Batman. The gas, a potent concoction of Scarecrow's own design, filled the air, a visible miasma of terror.

Batman, caught off-guard by the sudden assault, attempted to evade the cloud but inhaled a breath of the toxic fumes. The world around him twisted horrifyingly, his vision blurring as the gas took hold, plunging him into a nightmarish landscape of his own fears. Towering figures of his past adversaries loomed over him, their taunts echoing in his ears, while the loss of his parents replayed in agonizing detail, a never-ending cycle of pain and guilt.

Y/n's heart skipped a beat at the sight of Batman collapsing, overcome by the Scarecrow's fear toxin. Without hesitation, she reached out to Alfred through her radio.

"It's urgent. Batman's been incapacitated by Scarecrow's fear gas. You need to get him immediately," she relayed with urgency.

Without waiting for Alfred's confirmation, she sprung into action, her body moving almost on instinct. She descended from her vantage point into the alleyway below, her cape billowing behind her as she set her sights on the retreating figure of the Scarecrow.

"You just can't let it go, can you?" Scarecrow taunted, turning to hurl a canister of his sinister concoction in her direction.

The moment the toxin enveloped her, Y/n's reality twisted into a nightmarish tableau. She fell to the ground, a scream tearing from her lips as the shadows around her seemed to swell with judgment and scorn. But this was different, alongside the overwhelming fear, a heavy drowsiness dragged at her consciousness.

This was no ordinary fear toxin, she realized with a struggle to maintain her awareness. Her breaths came in labored gasps, each one a battle against the encroaching darkness. Her strength ebbed away, leaving her helpless on the cold, unforgiving ground of the alley. Her vision blurred, yet she could make out the Scarecrow's figure looming over her, his mask a grotesque visage that pulsated in her dimming sight.

As her field of view narrowed to a point, she saw Scarecrow bend down beside her, his hands reaching out to grasp her. Then, as if a curtain had fallen over her world, everything succumbed to darkness.

-

The throbbing in her head was the first sensation that pierced through the fog of unconsciousness, a relentless pounding that seemed to echo through her entire being. Gritting her teeth in discomfort, Y/n reached up, her fingers pressing into her temples in a futile attempt to sooth the pain. With her eyes still firmly shut, she sat up from the surface beneath her.

As she became more aware, her palm registered the unmistakable chill of metal against her skin. Hesitantly, she allowed her eyelids to part, squinting against the dim light that filled her unfamiliar surroundings. This place, cold, sterile, and decidedly unwelcoming, was far from the familiar confines of her home or the Batcave. Panic fluttered in her chest as the realization set in.

She found herself lying on a stark, metallic table, the centerpiece of what appeared to be a neglected laboratory. The air was thick with the scent of chemicals and decay, a testament to the room's dubious purposes. With a growing sense of dread, Y/n ran a hand through her hair, her movements halting as another alarming detail dawned on her, her mask was missing.

She took a sharp intake of breath as she frantically searched her surroundings, her heart racing. Though still clad in the protective gear of Batgirl, minus her utility belt, the absence of her mask left her exposed, vulnerable. 

The sound of the door creaking open sent a jolt of adrenaline through her. She became tense, preparing for who might come through that door, her mind racing through possibilities and plans of escape.

As the door swung open, the Scarecrow stepped through, his presence immediately filling the room with a palpable sense of dread. His iconic, scratchy burlap mask seemed to leer at her, the tattered edges of his suit fluttering slightly with his movements. Y/n's heart sank, deep down, she'd known he would be her captor.

The realization of her vulnerability flashed through her mind, sparking a defiant glare, even as she attempted to shield her identity by casting her gaze downward.

"You needn't bother trying to hide now," Scarecrow's voice cut through the tense air, a smirk audible in his tone as he closed the distance between them. "I've seen all I need to see."

Acknowledging that hiding was no longer an option, Y/n understood that resistance might still sway the balance in her favor. With a burst of energy, she attempted to launch herself off the table, only to crumble to the ground, her legs betraying her strength.

"Easy, you've only just regained consciousness," Scarecrow taunted, his steps hastening towards her prone form.

In her struggle to stand back up, Scarecrow's hands suddenly steadied her, pulling her up with a firm grip on her arm. Yet, even in this vulnerable state, Y/n's resolve didn't falter. Her hand darted out, seizing a scalpel from a nearby table, and she held it towards Scarecrow, who instinctively raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. The air between them crackled with tension, each poised for the other's next move.

Scarecrow's voice was calm, yet firm. "You're hardly in a position to resist effectively. Let me help you back onto the table before you injure yourself further. The scalpel isn't necessary," he advised, his tone bordering on reasonable.

Y/n couldn’t help but notice how professionally he spoke. 

"So you can subject me to more of your experiments? Yeah nah," she laughed, sarcastically.

Scarecrow, unfazed by her resistance, replied with a hint of a threat, "Whether you agree or not, you're in no condition to stand. It's only a matter of time before you collapse again."

She knew he was right. She could barely feel her legs, and the bits of sensation she did have was undeniable pain. With a reluctant sigh, Y/n let the scalpel clatter back onto the table.

Seeing her give in, Scarecrow lowered his hands and gently supported her around her waist, guiding her with a care that contrasted with his usual menace. He lifted her effortlessly, placing her back on the medical table with a carefulness that seemed out of character. Her legs dangled off the side, the height of the table leaving her feet dangling in the air, a subtle reminder of her current vulnerability.

"Why am I here?" Y/n demanded.

"Had I not intervened, you would be dead," Scarecrow replied.

"So, you hit me with your gas for shits and giggles? Or am I just another subject for your midnight experiments?" Y/n's tone was laced with anger.

"I never intended to expose you to the gas," Scarecrow clarified, moving to grab an item from a nearby table.

"And what? Your hand just slipped?" Y/n retaliated with sarcasm.

"I thought you were the Batman," Scarecrow confessed as he returned to her side.

"And how does that change anything?" Y/n challenged.

Ignoring her, he held a cup, what appeared to be cloudy water. Scarecrow pressed the cup into her hand. 

"What's this?" Y/n asked, raising her brow.

"For your headache and numbed legs," Scarecrow responded.

Y/n eyed the cup warily, her skepticism evident. Scarecrow sighed, his voice distorted by his mask.

"If I intended harm, it would have been done already," he assured her.

"Then answer my question," Y/n pressed.

"What question?" Scarecrow responded quickly, playing the fool.

Y/n rolled her eyes. "Why does it matter that you gassed me if I work with Batman?"

Scarecrow remained silent, his gaze fixed on her. She returned his stare, peering into the depths of his blue eyes, an aspect she'd never noticed before, having never been this close to him without a fight.

"Why don’t you want to hurt me?" Y/n rephrased her question.

"Because I don’t want to," he replied simply.

Y/n's shoulders sagged in defeat as she took a sip from the cup, relieved to find it tasted just like water.

"What's your name?" Scarecrow's question caught her off guard.

Y/n shot him a judging glance. "Seriously? Are you dumb? Or do you think I am?"

Scarecrow chuckled, the sound crackled by his mask. "Your face isn't much of a secret now," he remarked.

"True, but a name would give away too much, wouldn't it? Besides, I doubt you'd share yours even if I asked," Y/n countered.

"Fair enough. Batgirl it remains," Scarecrow said.

Concern creased Y/n's brow as she broached the subject weighing on her mind. "So, what's your plan for me now?"

"You're not in any shape to leave just yet," Scarecrow observed.

"Okay, but when I am?" Y/n pressed.

Scarecrow hesitated. "I can't say for certain when that'll be," he admitted.

"You're the reason I'm drugged up…it was your toxin," Y/n pointed out.

"I didn't anticipate having to save anyone after using the gas," Scarecrow replied, his gaze drifting away.

Y/n sensed there was more to his reluctance than he let on. "Why won't you let me go?" she demanded.

"I told you—" Scarecrow began, but Y/n interjected firmly, "I want the real reason."

Scarecrow settled into a chair at a nearby desk.

"Aw, is the Scarecrow feeling lonely?" Y/n teased, her tone light despite the tension in the air.

Though she couldn't discern his expression behind the mask, she could practically feel the weight of his glare.

"Hey, if you keep up with that attitude, I might just have to pay you a visit in the Narrows," Y/n teased further, her words laden with playful defiance.

Y/n couldn't shake the uncertainty creeping into her mind. Was she really entertaining him with her banter?

"I suppose I'll have to hold you to that," Scarecrow retorted, his tone tinged with a hint of amusement.

Y/n couldn't believe what she was hearing. Did he actually want her to visit?

"...Batman must be worried about me," Y/n spoke aloud.

"You'd be correct. He's been searching the Narrows looking for you," Scarecrow confirmed.

She's now aware of their whereabouts. Somewhere in the Narrows, not entirely helpful, but better than nothing.

Relief washed over Y/n. "So he's okay then?" she asked anxiously.

"I only administered a small dose. He's perfectly fine," Scarecrow reassured her.

"Can I leave in about 10 minutes?" Y/n requested.

Scarecrow sighed. "Yes, but let me perform one final check first," he insisted.

He approached her. "Can you stand?"

Y/n noticed a tingling sensation in her legs, a welcome sign of returning strength. She gingerly hopped off the metal table, feeling Scarecrow's supportive grip immediately. Taking a moment to steady herself with his assistance, she eventually managed to push him away gently.

"Considering how quickly Batman bounced back, I'm sure he'll be able to assist you if you encounter any further issues," Scarecrow remarked.

"So, can I go?" Y/n inquired.

"Yes, but you'll be blindfolded," Scarecrow detailed.

Y/n watched as Scarecrow grabbed an unexpected item from his coat, her mask which she had completely forgotten about. She accepted it, placing it securely back on her face. Following this, he produced a blindfold, carefully tying it around her eyes.

"What about my utility belt?" she questioned.

"It's been left in the alley. I expect Batman has already located it with the tracker," Scarecrow informed her.

It made sense, had the belt been here, Batman would have pinpointed her location instantly due to its tracking device.

"Give me your hand," Scarecrow said.

Y/n reached out, feeling Scarecrow's grip. His hand was bare, contrasting with her gloved one, allowing her to feel the unique texture of his skin. Together, they navigated towards what Y/n presumed was the exit.

"Mind your step," Scarecrow instructed.

With extra caution, Y/n raised her foot higher than usual, stepping over what she imagined was the door frame. The sound of metal underfoot suggested they had transitioned onto a metallic grate.

"Coming up to some stairs," Scarecrow said.

As Scarecrow slightly descended, he guided Y/n to the first step. Clutching Scarecrow's hand for support, her free hand found a handrail. They carefully descended the staircase together.

"Last step," Scarecrow informed her.

Her feet found solid concrete below. They continued their journey outside, Y/n blind to their surroundings. After about ten minutes wandering the Narrows in silence, Scarecrow halted.

"I'm going to spin you so you won't know which direction we came from," Scarecrow explained.

Y/n snorted, "Feels like a weird game," she joked.

Gently, Scarecrow placed his hands on her shoulders and started to spin her. Y/n laughed, her steps becoming unsteady as she spun. Once she was sufficiently dizzy, Scarecrow ceased the spinning.

"Can I take off the blindfold now?" Y/n asked.

Scarecrow loosened the knot, freeing her from the blindfold. Blinking against the light, she surveyed her surroundings, her balance off from the spinning.

"I have no idea where I am," she admitted, scanning the area.

"That was the point," Scarecrow replied.

A small smile formed on her lips. "Hey, thanks for not killing me," she uttered, a phrase she never imagined saying.

"I apoligize for using the gas on you," Scarecrow said.

"I appreciate the apology...So! See you around?" Y/n tilted her head, looking at him.

Scarecrow seemed taken aback. "You aren't planning to tackling me to the ground for Batman?" 

She shook her head.

"Then, yes... until next time, Batgirl," Scarecrow affirmed.

With that, Y/n walked away, the sound of her footsteps echoing in the alley. Glancing back one last time, she found he had vanished into the shadows.

As Y/n made her way towards the mouth of the alley, a familiar figure emerged from the shadows with a swift, purposeful stride. The figure's imposing silhouette was unmistakable against the dimly lit street. Batman, cloaked in his iconic cape, his gaze fixed intently ahead.

He approached Y/n, his presence commanding yet reassuring. "Where have you been?" Batman's voice, deep and grave.

Although aggressive, she knew it was his way of showing his concern.

Y/n sighed. "I'm fine, thanks! But I wouldn’t have been if not for an unexpected turn of events," she responded, her voice a mix of relief and bewilderment.

Batman surveyed the surroundings with a beading eye, then returned his attention to Y/n. "Scarecrow?" he asked, already piecing together the encounter from the clues left behind.

"Yep," Y/n confirmed.

Batman summoned the Batmobile with a press of a button, and it swiftly glided around the corner, halting with precision in front of them. "We'll discuss it on the way," Batman suggested, sliding into the driver's seat of the Batmobile.

Y/n quickly followed, hopping into the passenger seat. The top sealed shut with a soft hiss, and they set off toward the Batcave, the engine's low rumble filling the air.

"As soon as you were hit with the toxin, I ran after Scarecrow. I know you said not to but I couldn't just stand by," Y/n recounted. "He hit me with some kind of super version of his toxin... I blacked out and later woke up in his lab... He had saved my life," she reflected, still piecing together the surreal events.

"Scarecrow...saved you...after he was the one to endanger you..." Batman's voice betrayed a hint of skepticism.

"Exactly... He said he mistook me for you and used a more lethal toxin," Y/n clarified.

Batman mulled over the information, "This must be part of some elaborate scheme."

"...When I was unconscious, he took off my mask," Y/n added quietly, the weight of her vulnerability in that moment hanging between them.

"We can't change what's happened," Batman responded with an unexpected calm. "For now, you need to stay at the batcave."

Y/n understood the protective gesture, Batman was ensuring her safety. This meant her encounters with Scarecrow would be on hold, a disappointing, yet perhaps for the best, turn of events.

-

Upon their arrival at the Batcave, Bruce insisted on conducting his own check up of Y/n to ensure her well-being. As he meticulously checked her condition, Y/n found her thoughts drifting back to Scarecrow.

The lanky figure behind the coarse, burlap mask now intrigued her more than ever. Despite her efforts to thwart his plans and her alliance with Batman, Scarecrow had spared her life. His actions defied the logic that he should have seen her as a direct threat, deserving of his lethal wrath.

Throughout their encounters, Scarecrow had consistently avoided using his fear toxin on her, opting for less harmful methods. And on the one occasion he did administer it, he promptly provided an antidote and went as far as looking after her back at his lab.

What puzzled her further was his reluctance, or perhaps refusal, to let her leave. There seemed to be an underlying reason he didn't want her to go, adding layers to his already complex persona. This unexpected mercy and the mystery shrouding his true intentions only deepened Y/n's curiosity about the man beneath the mask.

-

Y/n's second week interning at Arkham was unfolding better than she'd anticipated. Tasked with interacting with the less dangerous patients, she found them peculiar yet unexpectedly sweet, a stark contrast to her initial assumptions. Each person, in their own right, contributed to the unique tapestry of Arkham's inhabitants.

Walking through the asylum's corridors on her way to Dr. Young's office with a stack of files in hand, Y/n was absorbed in her thoughts, hardly aware of her surroundings. This lack of attention led to a collision with a passerby, resulting in her files scattering across the floor.

"Shit, sorry," she blurted out, immediately kneeling to gather the scattered documents.

The individual she bumped into stood frozen, offering no assistance or reaction. Once she collected her files and stood up to face him, she found herself looking at a tall, slender man adorned with rectangular, wire-framed glasses, his expression one of bafflement.

"Sorry, I wasn't paying attention," she said, hoping to break the ice.

Yet, the man remained silent, his eyes wide and mouth slightly open, offering nothing but a fixed stare. With an awkward smile, Y/n excused herself, moving past him to continue on her way.

"Sorry, again... Have a good day," she added, before turning her focus forward and spotting Dr. Young near her office.

"Met Dr. Crane, have you?" Dr. Young asked, observing the scene.

Glancing back, Y/n saw the man, now identified as Dr. Crane, retreating hastily down the hallway.

"Apparently. He a quiet one?" Y/n asked, intrigued by the unusual man.

"Not at all," Dr. Young confided with a hint of amusement. "He's known for being quite outspoken and, frankly, a bit abrasive. But let's keep that between us."

Y/n let out a soft chuckle, appreciating the candid insight. Together, they proceeded into Dr. Young's office. As they delved into their tasks and discussions, the brief encounter with Dr. Crane swiftly faded from Y/n's mind.

-

Barely two hours had passed, with Y/n engrossed in her task of organizing files, when Dr. Young re-entered the office, fresh from her break.

"It seems you've caught the attention of Dr. Crane," Dr. Young remarked as she stepped inside.

Y/n glanced up, puzzled. "Huh?"

Dr. Young, settling into her chair with a chuckle. "Well, in the cafeteria, Dr. Crane cam up to me out of the blue to ask about you. Considering he never engages in conversation unless it's strictly necessary, that was quite the surprise!"

Curiosity piqued, Y/n continued, "What exactly did he ask about?"

"Just your name and your role here," Dr. Young replied with a smile.

The thought of garnering anyone's interest, let alone Dr. Crane's, hadn't crossed Y/n's mind. Yet, she brushed it off, doubting it would have any significant impact on her internship.

-

Back at her home, Y/n found herself sprawled on her bed, engulfed in the unfamiliar territory of idleness. With Bruce sidelining her from night patrols, the once exhilarating darkness of Gotham's nights now stretched endlessly before her, filled with nothing but the quiet.

Letting out a sigh, she flung her book aside, a tangible sign of her growing restlessness. Reluctantly, she rose and drifted towards her computer, where the glow of her screen illuminated tabs of research left untouched since yesterday. Though the news articles of Scarecrow she had found offered little in the way of breakthroughs, she held onto the hope they might yet yield something of value.

It was then that a sudden thud against her window broke the silence, startling her. Turning to look, she expected to find nothing more unusual than a disoriented bird that flew into it. However, the repeated thudding suggested this was no ordinary accident.

With a sigh, Y/n approached the window to investigate. A crow was the culprit, determinedly striking the glass over and over. Attempting to shoo it away with a tap against the window proved futile, the bird was either stubborn or really dumb. About to turn away in defeat, Y/n noticed something clutched in the crow's beak, she naturally had to investigate.

Concerned it might be choking, she opened the window to offer assistance. The crow, uninvited, hopped boldly into her room and onto her bed.

"Hey! You’re gonna get my shit all dirty!" Y/n protested, trying to usher it off.

Yet the crow remained unbothered, stationed firmly on her bed. With a curious tilt of its head, it released its hold, letting the object, a piece of paper, fall onto her duvet.

Realizing the crow was unharmed, Y/n let out a sigh. "Okay, you can leave now," she suggested, gesturing towards the open window.

However, the crow remained stationary, its gaze fixed on her as if it had more to say. They stared at one another awkwardly, the air between them thick with uncertainty. The crow nudged the piece of paper with its beak, then lifted its eyes to hers, prompting her attention.

Reluctantly, Y/n shifted her focus to the paper, curiosity getting the better of her. The paper was torn and foled. She unfolded the ripped fragment to reveal a message that sent a jolt of shock through her.

'Found you.'

The simplicity of the message belied its ominous intent, transforming her initial confusion into a wave of dread. "Holy fuck," she muttered, her pulse quickening.

As if its mission was accomplished, the crow took its leave, soaring out the window. Y/n raced to the window, a futile attempt to keep it from leaving. "Oi!"

But her plea vanished into the night, leaving her to face the silence of her room. The solitude that had once been merely boring now felt ominously oppressive.

How had Scarecrow found her? The question echoed in her mind, a reminder that her sense of security was more fragile than she had ever imagined.

Y/n wasted no time in dialing Bruce's number, her fingers trembling with anxiety as she waited for him to pick up. When he finally answered, she didn't bother with pleasantries.

"He found me," she blurted out in a tense whisper.

"Y/n? What are you talk-?" Bruce paused. “How?”

"I don't know how he did it, Bruce. There's no way he could have tracked me from that night," Y/n replied, her nerves palpable. “He sent his fucking pet crow, or something to my window with a little note saying he found me.”

"I think it would be safest for you to stay at my place for a while," Bruce suggested, his tone urgent.

"Yeah, but what if he figures out… you know?" Y/n's worry crept into her voice.

"Is there anywhere else you can go?" Bruce asked, his concern evident.

Y/n's mind raced, but she couldn't think of any safe alternatives. "Not really," she admitted reluctantly.

"Okay, just stay safe. I'll be checking up on you," Bruce instructed firmly.

"I'll do my best," Y/n sighed, feeling a sense of dread settle over her as the call ended.

She dropped her phone on her bed along with herself. Sitting on her bed, she ran her hand down her face groaning. She just prayed he was as nice as he was the night before.

-

The next day, Y/n felt a sense of unease as she walked through the corridors of Arkham towards Dr. Young's office. Upon entering, she was met not only by Dr. Young, but also by the presence of Dr. Crane.

"Good morning, Y/n. I'm sure you're acquainted with Dr. Crane by now," Dr. Young gestured towards the man in the room.

Y/n nodded awkwardly, turning her attention to Dr. Crane. "Hello, Dr. Crane," she greeted, extending her hand for a shake.

"Miss L/n," he replied, his voice crisp and professional as he took her hand.

There was something strangely familiar about his touch, though Y/n couldn't quite place it. Brushing it off as mere coincidence, she focused on the conversation at hand.

"Well, we've decided to switch things up a bit and provide you with more opportunities around the asylum. Today, Dr. Crane has kindly offered to mentor you instead of me," Dr. Young explained.

Y/n nodded, trying to maintain her composure. "Oh... cool," she replied, though her uncertainty lingered beneath the surface.

"My work primarily focuses on the higher-risk patients, so today I'll be showing you around those areas of the asylum," Dr. Crane explained, his hands clasped behind his back.

"Alright, shall we get started?" Y/n asked, eager to begin.

"Certainly," Dr. Crane replied, opening the door for Y/n to exit first. She thanked him and stepped into the hallway, where Dr. Crane joined her.

"So, Miss L/n, what led you to Arkham?" Dr. Crane inquired, initiating conversation.

"Well, I studied at Gotham University for five years and managed to get an internship here. It's an opportunity I couldn't pass up," Y/n replied.

Dr. Crane nodded, showing interest. "You're interested in psychology, I assume?"

"Naturally," Y/n confirmed.

"And outside of Arkham, how do you spend your time?" Dr. Crane asked, delving deeper.

Y/n wasn't prepared for such a personal question, and she found herself struggling to formulate an answer. In truth, much of her time was split between intensive research and her activities as a vigilante. "Uh... research mostly," she replied, keeping her answer vague.

"Any specific areas of focus?" Dr. Crane probed further.

"Primarily psychology-related topics, and occasionally delving into articles about various personalities in Gotham," Y/n answered, trying to keep her response casual.

"Ah, the Gotham Rogues, I presume? Have any in particular piqued your interest?" Dr. Crane inquired, his gaze lingering on her as they made their way towards the elevator.

Y/n had been informed by Dr. Young that small talk was rarely on Dr. Crane's agenda, suggesting his continuous questions might stem from a lack of social que. Yet, as a psychiatrist, his understanding of social dynamics should be adept, making his approach puzzling.

"Ah, well... each of them are interesting in their own way, to say the least," Y/n replied, deflecting deflecting to keep the conversation neutral.

Acknowledging her response with a nod, Dr. Crane diverted his eyes ahead, the silence momentarily enveloping them as they approached and entered the elevator. With a practiced motion, he swiped his keycard and selected their destination floor.

The elevator began its descent in silence, the hum of its mechanism filling the small space. Dr. Crane stood with a composed posture, hands clasped behind his back, while Y/n could feel the tension in the air, an undercurrent of unspoken thoughts swirling between them.

After a moment, Dr. Crane broke the silence. "The study of fear is particularly fascinating, don't you think?" he started, his tone measured, eyes fixed on the elevator doors as if addressing the question to himself. "It's primal, yet so complex. A fundamental emotion that can be both a hindrance and a survival mechanism."

Y/n, caught off guard by the sudden shift in conversation, nodded in agreement. "Yes, it's quite a paradox. It shapes so much of human behavior, yet we understand so little about its underpinnings."

The elevator dinged, announcing their arrival at the high-risk patient floor. As the doors slid open, Dr. Crane stepped out, gesturing for Y/n to follow. "Indeed. And it's within these walls that fear becomes a canvas, each patient painting their own portrait of terror."

The topic of their conversation enveloped Y/n in a sense of unease. While it was natural for a psychiatrist to delve into subjects like fear, given her recent unsettling situation, discussing it now stirred an unwelcome and deep-seated discomfort within her.

They walked through a secured door after Dr. Crane keyed in a code, entering a corridor lined with reinforced glass cells. The patients inside varied in their reactions to the newcomers, some pressed close to observe them, others retreated into shadows, and a few remained indifferent, lost in their own worlds.

"As you'll see today, our approach to treatment varies greatly, tailored to each patient's specific needs and... inclinations," Dr. Crane continued, leading Y/n past the cells. "Observation and understanding is key. Fear can be both a lock and a key in our field."

Y/n felt a chill run down her spine, not just from the atmosphere of the high-risk ward but from Dr. Crane's words. They echoed with a depth of knowledge and an intensity that felt almost too personal, as if fear itself was a familiar friend to him.

As they continued their tour, Y/n couldn't shake the feeling that Dr. Crane was studying her just as much as he was explaining the procedures and philosophies of Arkham Asylum. There was a calculated curiosity in his gaze, a probing quality that made her wonder what he saw when he looked at her. 

Their footsteps echoed softly as they walked through the corridor, eventually halting in front of a door. 

"This," he announced, ushering the door open with a gentle push, "is my office."

Crossing into the new space, Y/n found herself standing somewhat awkwardly, uncertain of what was to come next.

"I have a few patient appointments scheduled today. You'll have the opportunity to observe. But first, there are some reports I need to deal with. I imagine you have tasks of your own to do in the meantime?" he suggested.

With a nod from Y/n, he settled into his chair behind the desk, drawing out several files and a pen. As he began to write, Y/n couldn't help but observe him, a sense of déjà vu washing over her. There was an inexplicable familiarity in his presence that she couldn't quite identify.

Catching her gaze, he looked up, peering over his glasses. "Is there something on your mind?" he asked.

Y/n hesitated for a moment, considering her response carefully. She wasn't sure if she should bring up her recent encounter with the Scarecrow, especially given Dr. Crane's interest in fear and psychology. But something about his demeanor encouraged her to speak up. She cracked it down to the fact that he was around higher risk patients at arkham so he should understand.

Y/n hesitated for a moment, choosing her words carefully. She didn't want to alarm Dr. Crane or reveal too much about her involvement with Gotham's underworld.

"Well, actually..." she began, her voice measured. "I recently had a rather unusual encounter with someone who... operates outside the norms, let's say."

Dr. Crane raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued. "Go on," he prompted, leaning forward slightly.

"There's this... guy," she began, her voice thoughtful. "Who put me in a rather diffucult situation. But instead of leaving me in trouble, this guy… helped me. He claimed that his actions were never intended to inconvenience me, but rather someone else entirely. It's all rather confusing to me."

As she spoke, Dr. Crane listened attentively, his analytical gaze fixed on her. There was a calculating intensity in his eyes that sent a shiver down her spine, but she pushed past it, determined to convey the essence of her experience without divulging too much.

He leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers thoughtfully. “Why do you think he wouldn’t have helped you?” he asked.

“Well this... guy... well, he’s not exactly known for his generosity,” Y/n said, choosing her words carefully.

"I see," he murmured, his tone contemplative. "It seems you've had quite the... encounter."

Y/n nodded, relieved that she had managed to convey the situation without revealing too many details. 

“Well... what about the situation confuses you?” he asked.

“The fact that he helped me, I just don’t understand it,” Y/n said.

“Had you encountered this individual prior to that?” Dr. Crane inquired.

“Yes, and he wasn’t particularly pleasant,” Y/n replied.

“Perhaps he had a change of heart, felt remorse... or maybe you interested him in some way,” Dr. Crane suggested.

Y/n recognized that Dr. Crane might not offer much assistance, especially since her account was far from the complete truth, but she valued his perspective.

“Yeah... maybe,” she said, considering his viewpoint.

-

The two appointments proceeded smoothly. The first patient was a paranoid individual, tormented by incessant fears of lurking threats in the shadows. As for the second patient was a woman struggling with intense anxiety and recurring nightmares. Dr. Crane navigated through their sessions with his calmness and precision, offering insightful observations and gentle guidance.

As the day progressed, Y/n found herself drawn into the complexities of the patients' minds, witnessing firsthand the challenges they faced and the therapeutic approaches employed by Dr. Crane. 

By the end of the day, Y/n felt a newfound respect for Dr. Crane's expertise and a deeper curiosity about the human psyche. 

Leaving Arkham, they boarded the Akrham train heading to the city center. "I trust today has been insightful for you," Dr. Crane remarked as they found their seats.

The clatter of the train tracks provided a rhythmic backdrop to their conversation as they settled into their seats. Y/n nodded, reflecting on the day's events. "Definitely," she replied. "It's given me a lot to think about."

Dr. Crane inclined his head, his gaze thoughtful. "Understanding the human mind is a continuous journey, filled with both challenges and revelations," he remarked. "But it's a journey worth undertaking."

Y/n nodded in agreement, absorbing his words. As the train rumbled on, she noticed that her stop was nearing.

"Thank you, Dr. Crane. You've been a really amazing mentor today," Y/n expressed her gratitude.

Dr. Crane nodded, acknowledging her gratitude. "You're welcome, Y/n. If you ever need any guidance or have any questions in the future, feel free to reach out," he said, his tone surprisingly warm.

As the train slowed to a stop at Y/n's station, she gathered her belongings and stood up. "I'll keep that in mind. Thank you again," she said, offering a polite smile before stepping off the train.

"Have a safe walk home," Dr. Crane bid farewell as the train doors slid shut.

As she walked away from the station, Y/n couldn't shake the feeling of curiosity about Dr. Crane. There was something intriguing about him, something she couldn't quite put her finger on. But for now, she pushed those thoughts aside and focused on the rest of her day ahead.

Alone in the dark, a wave of fear washed over her. Her home was just a ten-minute walk from the station, but after receiving that ominous message yesterday, she felt more uneasy than usual.

The usual nightly weirdos on the street didn't bother her much, no, it was the thought of encountering Scarecrow that sent shivers down her spine.

As she walked, a group of guys stepped out from a dark alley, eyeing her with leering grins. "Hey, sweetheart, looking for some company?" one of them called out, his tone dripping with sleaze.

Y/n rolled her eyes, unimpressed by their attempts to intimidate her. "Sorry, boys, not interested," she replied, quickening her pace.

As they closed in, Y/n sprang into action with lightning speed. In one fluid motion, she lunged towards the nearest assailant, her hands moving with precision. With a swift twist, she disarmed him, the weapon clattering to the ground with a metallic clang.

Before the others could react, Y/n hit him with calculated strikes, each one finding its mark with pinpoint accuracy. With each opponent she incapacitated, the threat diminished, until finally, all that remained was a pile of defeated adversaries at her feet.

Just as she thought the situation was under control, a familiar chill ran down her spine. The dim streetlight cast eerie shadows as Scarecrow emerged from the darkness, his silhouette looming ominously. Y/n's heart raced, her muscles tensing in anticipation.

The air seemed to thicken with tension as Scarecrow's gaze swept over the scene. She braced herself as the Scarecrow raised his hand, expecting the worst. Shielding her face, she awaited the inevitable assault, but instead, she heard screams erupting behind her. 

Reluctantly lowering her arms, she turned to witness a man writhing on the ground, his cries echoing through the deserted street beside a discarded firearm. Her gaze snapped back to the Scarecrow, her eyes widening in astonishment.

"One missed," he remarked coolly.

“Scarecrow…” she uttered, caught between greeting him and still processing the situation.

“Y/n,” he acknowledged.

“So...you know my name now,” she remarked, her tone barely masking her worry.

“Would you prefer I call you Batgirl still?” he asked, sarcastically.

“I suppose there’s no point,” Y/n shrugged, conceding to the truth.

Observing him in the dimly lit street, she couldn't help but notice his eerie yet intriguing presence. “Nice suit,” she commented, attempting to break the tension.

“Thank you,” he replied courteously, his mask concealing any expression.

Despite his seemingly benign demeanor, she couldn't shake off her unease about his sudden appearance. “What are you doing here?” she probed cautiously.

“Making sure you got home safely,” he responded matter-of-factly.

“You’re following me?” she questioned, her suspicion growing palpable.

“Looks that way,” he confirmed, his voice protraying no hint of emotion.

“...I’ll be off then,” she stated, turning to head back home.

His footsteps echoed behind her, prompting her to halt and face him. “You’re still here?”

"You don’t think I was just going to leave,” he remarked.

“Then can you at least not stalk behind me?” Y/n requested, her tone surprisingly composed despite her lingering unease.

Closing the distance between them, he fell into step beside her. “You know Batman might find you,” she warned.

“Not tonight, I saw him off chasing the Penguin,” he assured her.

Y/n looked ahead, contemplating their unusual companionship. “So… are you going to hurt me?” she questioned, her voice hinting her vulnerability.

“I didn’t hurt you before, why would I now?” he countered.

“Well, why else are you here?” she pressed, her curiosity piqued.

“It was you that said you’d ‘see me around’,” Scarecrow reminded her.

She recalled their earlier exchange, surprised that he remembered. “I didn’t think you’d remember… or care,” she admitted.

They lapsed into silence for a moment before Y/n broke it. “How did you find me?” she asked the question that was weighing on her mind since she got the note.

“It was coincidence,” Scarecrow replied cryptically.

“Seriously! That's all?” Y/n protested.

“I saw you... and gaining access to you was a simple matter after that,” he explained.

Y/n paused, contemplating the implications of his words.

“Wait, so you mean to say... Did I see you around?” Y/n's curiosity peaked.

Scarecrow's silence spoke volumes, confirming her suspicions. Y/n's mind raced, attempting to pinpoint any instance where she could have crossed paths with Scarecrow during the day, but nothing came to mind.

"You're annoying, you know that? Why can't you just tell me who you are?" Y/n pressed, frustration lacing her words.

"And give you the chance to share with your caped crusader? I think not," Scarecrow retorted with a hint of amusement in his distorted voice.

Y/n scowled, "This is bullshit. What kind of friend are you?"

"Friend?" Scarecrow echoed, a note of mock surprise in his tone.

Realizing she had referred to him as a friend, Y/n hesitated, "Well… I don’t know."

"Considering me a friend? That's rather... optimistic of you," Scarecrow jested.

"You know what? Fuck you," Y/n snapped, pushing him away in annoyance.

Scarecrow's laughter, distorted and chilling, filled the air.

"About that crow yesterday..." Y/n shifted the topic.

"Ah, yes, Craw," Scarecrow interjected.

"Craw... you named your bird after the sound it makes? What are you, five?" Y/n couldn't help but mock his choice.

"Feeling particularly bitey today, aren't we?" Scarecrow remarked with a hint of amusement.

"I'm just pointing out the obvious. You could have called him anything and you settled on 'Craw'? It's like naming a cat 'Meow' or a dog ‘Woof’," Y/n countered.

"I doubt your question was solely to critique my naming choices," Scarecrow deflected, steering the conversation forward.

"So, you have a trained crow... cool," Y/n conceded.

With a snap of his fingers, Scarecrow summoned the crow, which gracefully swooped down to perch on his shoulder.

"Fuck, that’s impressive," Y/n admitted, genuinely taken aback.

"He's a good companion," Scarecrow acknowledged, affectionately caressing the crow's feathered chest.

"And yet, when I mention friendship, I'm desperate?" Y/n teased with a scoff.

"I'm merely taken aback... You haven't even tried to call Batman on me yet," Scarecrow observed.

"Well, if he can have his criminal friend, I don't see why I shouldn't either," Y/n reasoned, thinking about Bruces weird thing with Catwomen.

"It only seems fair," Scarecrow conceded with a nod.

As they approached her apartment complex, Y/n paused and faced Scarecrow.

"I guess this is where I leave you," she remarked, a hint of reluctance in her tone as she gestured towards the looming building of her apartment complex.

Scarecrow tilted his head slightly, his gaze lingering on her for a moment longer than usual. "Seems so. You'll be safe here, I presume?"

Y/n couldn't help but feel a pang of irony at the question, considering who it was coming from. "Yeah, I'll be fine. Thanks for helping me back there," she quipped, offering him a small, genuine smile.

Scarecrow nodded once, sharply, as if dismissing any need for gratitude. "Take care, Y/n."

With those parting words, he turned and disappeared into the shadows from where he came, leaving Y/n to stare after him for a long moment. Shaking her head slightly, as if to clear it from the surreal encounter, she turned and headed towards her apartment, her mind swirling with thoughts about the night's events and the enigmatic figure that had just left her side.

-

The anticipation for her next encounter with Scarecrow had always been tinged with impatience, but now, there was a distinct shift in her desires. Gone was the sole focus on capturing him, instead, she found herself wanting to talk, even hang out with the guy.

Wandering the corridors of Arkham, her thoughts were abruptly interrupted by an exasperated shout not far from her location. “Damn bird!” echoed off the sterile walls.

Curious, Y/n turned on her heel to investigate. A large bird flying through the hallway, causing a commotion. But this was no ordinary crow, as it swooped closer, she recognized it instantly. Craw, Scarecrow's supposed good companion.

As the crow landed gracefully before her, Y/n crouched down, gently scooping him up. The security guard, panting from the chase, approached with a look of annoyance plastered across his face.

“Stupid bird,” he muttered, reaching out to snatch Craw away.

Y/n, cradling the crow protectively, assured him, “It's fine, I've got this. I'll make sure he's put outside.”

The guard, too worn out to argue further, simply shrugged and departed. Alone now, Y/n shifted her focus to Craw, who seemed quite content in her grasp.

Noticing a piece of paper held in his beak, she gently grabbed it, speaking softly to the crow, “Hey there, pretty. How did you manage to find me here?”

Placing Craw on her shoulder, she unfolded the note.

‘I’ll see you tonight.’

A smile unknowingly crept across her face as she read the message. Shortly after, Craw took flight from her shoulder, darting down the corridor.

“No! Craw, I need to take you outside!” she called after him, her plea falling on deaf ears.

With a resigned sigh, she watched him disappear deeper into the Asylum. “Well, he's someone else's problem now.”

Despite the mild chaos, the note clutched in her hand warmed her heart, igniting a flutter of excitement for what the evening might bring.

-

The walk home felt different for Y/n this evening. Each shadow cast by the dim streetlights seemed to promise the appearance of Scarecrow, echoing his note that said they would meet again. With every step, her anticipation grew, turning each corner with a mix of eagerness and anxiety, expecting to find him waiting in the familiar alley where their paths often crossed. But tonight, the alley remained empty.

The silence of the alleyway, usually filled with the tension of their encounters, now hung heavy with disappointment. She lingered for a moment, scanning the shadows and empty spaces where he might have stood, half-hoping for the rustle of his coat or the soft click of his approach. But there was nothing. Just the quiet of the night and the distant hum of the city.

As she continued her walk home, the excitement that had quickened her steps faded into a dull ache of letdown. Thoughts raced through her mind, pondering why he hadn't appeared. Had something happened to him? Had Batman managed to intervene?

Reaching her apartment, Y/n couldn't shake the sense of solitude that enveloped her. Inside, the quiet of her home only amplified her disappointment. With a heavy sigh, Y/n resigned herself to the evening's solitude, dropping onto her bed.

As she lay in the quiet of her room, Y/n found herself wrestling with thoughts that mocked her for entertaining the idea of a friendship with someone as complex and dangerous as Scarecrow. How could she, grounded in her own principles and duties, truly expect to build a connection with a figure who thrived in the shadows, a master of fear? 

Her thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a thump against her window. Startled, she glanced up, only to find the familiar silhouette of a crow striking the glass. Hurrying over, she opened the window, allowing Craw to flutter into the room. Peering out the window, her pulse quickened at the sight below.

Scarecrow stood on the ground, gazing up at her with his usual get-up.

"May I come up?" his voice floated up to her.

Without hesitation, she swung onto the fire escape, releasing the ladder for him. As he ascended, a mixture of surprise and anticipation filled her.

"Why are you here?" she inquired, as he stepped through the window into her room.

"I said I'd see you tonight," he replied.

"I thought you’d just walk me home," she admitted, a smile playing on her lips despite herself.

"Indeed, I intended to, but I was held up," Scarecrow said, his voice carrying a touch of regret.

Inside her room, with the city's night as their backdrop, she couldn't help but jest, "So, the man behind the mask has a life?"

Scarecrow chuckled below the mask, “That I do.”

Now settled in her room, Y/n found a comfortable spot on her bed, her back resting gently against the headboard.

With a curious tilt of her head, she ventured, "Could I possibly hear more about the man beneath the mask?"

He hesitated for a moment before answering, "I was caught up at work, actual work, something that required my immediate attention."

This prompted Y/n to recall her little interaction with his crow eariler. "Speaking of work, how did you manage to send Craw into Arkham?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Let's just say he found his way through a window," he replied,criptically.

Scarecrow chose a spot at the foot of her bed, directly opposite her, and gracefully seated himself. Craw saw it as an opportunity to hopped onto his thigh, finding comfort in his familiar presence.

As they sat in Y/n's room, the silence between them was palpable. Y/n couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions. Curiosity, apprehension, and a strange sense of comfort in Scarecrow's presence. She studied him closely, trying to decipher the man, but his expression remained hidden.

"So, what really brings you here tonight?" Y/n finally broke the silence, her voice betraying a hint of nervousness.

Scarecrow glanced at her, his gaze piercing. "I wanted to check on you," he replied simply.

Y/n raised an eyebrow, skeptical of his intentions. "Check on me?" she echoed, searching his face for any hint of deception.

"Yes," Scarecrow affirmed, his tone unwavering. "After our encounter the other night, I thought I should make sure you're okay."

Y/n's initial skepticism softened slightly, replaced by a flicker of surprise. Despite their strange relationship, Scarecrow's concern for her well-being was unexpected.

"I'm fine," Y/n reassured him, offering a small smile. "But why go through the trouble? You're not exactly known for your kindness."

Scarecrow's lips quirked into a faint smile, the gesture almost imperceptible. "Perhaps I'm not as one-dimensional as you think," he remarked.

Y/n's curiosity piqued at his response, but before she could delve further, there was a sudden knock on her apartment door.

“Y/n? I called you but you didn’t answer,” it was Bruce.

The sudden interruption sent Y/n's heart racing, a surge of panic flooding her as she heard Bruce's voice through the door. She momentarily froze, realizing the difficult situation she was in. Glancing frantically at Scarecrow, she leaped into action, her movements swift and desperate.

"Under the bed, now!" she hissed, urgency lacing her whisper as she practically shoved Scarecrow towards the hiding spot.

Without hesitation, Scarecrow complied, slipping under the bed. No sooner had he vanished from sight than Y/n dashed to the apartment's entrance, her mind racing with excuses.

"Hey, Bruce, sorry about that. My phone's been on silent, what’s up?" she managed to say with a feigned nonchalance as she swung the door open, greeting him with a practiced casualness.

"I said I'd swing by to check on you. Everything's been okay lately?" Bruce asked, stepping past the threshold with a concerned glance.

"Yep, all good here," Y/n replied, her voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through her veins.

Y/n found herself desperately seeking a solution that wouldn't raise Bruce's suspicions, yet every moment he lingered increased the risk of Scarecrow's presence unmasking Bruce's own secret identity. Trapped between a rock and a hard place, she was at a loss, her mind racing for a strategy that seemed increasingly elusive.

Then, an ominous thump from her bedroom shattered the tense silence, causing her heart to plummet into her stomach.

"What was that?" Bruce's voice sharpened with alertness, his instinctive concern prompting him to move toward the source of the sound.

Y/n's anxiety reached it’s limits until, unexpectedly, a voice came from her bedroom. "Y/n? Who's at the door?" It was unmistakably Scarecrow, yet his voice was stripped of its usual menacing distortion, sounding disarmingly normal.

Panic painted Y/n's face with a stark shade of horror, a silent scream at the realization of her rapidly unraveling situation. However, Bruce's reaction took a turn Y/n hadn't anticipated. His expression, initially furrowed with concern, smoothly transitioned into an amused smirk.

"I didn't realize you had company. I'll leave you to your...guest," he said, his voice laced with an uncharacteristic lightness.

In that moment, Y/n's dread shifted to a baffling sense of relief to mild embarrassment. The flush of embarrassment that crept up Y/n's cheeks. The implication in Bruce's assumption that her "guest" was there for reasons more intimate was mortifying, yet it was a far more palatable scenario than him suspecting the presence of a notorious criminal in her bedroom.

"U-uh, yeah, sorry," she managed, her voice a mix of awkwardness and gratitude as she escorted Bruce to the door.

Pausing at the threshold, Bruce turned back to her, his expression lightly amused. "Have a good night," he said, his voice carrying a hint of jest before he delivered a playful wink and departed.

As Y/n closed the door behind him, a wave of relief washed over her, tinged with a lingering embarrassment. As Y/n reentered her bedroom, her gaze fell upon Craw, who had perched on the shelf by her door. 

"Are you still hiding under my bed?" she asked, her knees pressing against the cool floor as she peered under the bed.

There he was, Scarecrow, his frame stretched out beneath her bed, an unexpected sight that was oddly endearing. "Yeah," came his muffled reply.

"It's safe to come out now," she assured him, her voice lifting with a mix of relief and warmth.

As Scarecrow emerged, his presence seemed to fill the room. "What was that thumping sound?" she asked, genuinely puzzled.

"Craw decided the door looked interesting," Scarecrow quipped, a hint of affection for the mischief-maker in his tone.

Y/n's eyes darted to Craw, her expression one of mock frustration. "You bloody bird!" she growled, though the crow seemed preoccupied with scratching his wing with his beak.

"And thank you, by the way. My heart nearly stopped when he headed towards my room," she admitted, her hands finding their way to her hips.

"Who was that, if I may ask?" Scarecrow's curiosity was evident, his head tilted.

"A friend," she answered simply.

"Just a friend?" he probed further, an edge of something playful in his voice.

"Jealous?" Y/n teased, a light chuckle escaping her.

"Should I be?" he parried, his voice laced with amusement.

Y/n's laughter filled the room, a sound of genuine amusement. "Bruce is just a friend. Though now he probably thinks I've got a secret lover stashed in here," she said, the humor in her situation not lost on her.

"Bruce? As in-" Scarecrow started, only for Y/n to jump in.

"Bruce Wayne? Yes," she confirmed, closing the loop on his thought.

"I would've expected the Batman, not Bruce Wayne," he mused, his voice carrying a note of mock disappointment.

"Batman wouldn’t bother with the front door, that’s for sure," Y/n laughed. 

Y/n chuckled, her fingers idly tracing patterns on her bedspread. "So, did you... you know, take off the mask when you called out?" she asked.

Scarecrow's response was matter-of-fact. "Well, yeah. I don’t know if you can tell, but my voice isn’t naturally distorted," he pointed out.

Y/n's playful pout betrayed her teasing tone. "That's not fair! My room got to see your face before I did!" she exclaimed, feigning offense.

"Your room is quite the lucky spectator," he remarked, his tone filled with amusement.

"I bet you won’t show me cause you’re insecure," Y/n teased with a playful glint in her eye.

Scarecrow tilted his head. "Or perhaps I prefer the mystery. Keeps things interesting, doesn't it?" His voice was muffled slightly by the fabric covering his features.

Y/n laughed, shaking her head. "Interesting for you, maybe. I'm just sitting here guessing if you're secretly a model or if you've got a face only a mother could love."

"Guess you'll just have to keep wondering," he replied.

The room fell into a comfortable silence, filled only by the soft rustling of Craw shifting on his perch. Y/n found herself studying Scarecrow, trying to glean any hint of the man behind the mask from his posture, his movements, even the way he spoke. There was an undeniable curiosity bubbling within her, a desire to know more about the mysterious figure who'd become an unexpected constant in her life.

As the night wore on, their conversation flowed, ranging from trivial banter to more serious discussions about their contrasting views of the city they both operated in. Despite their differences, Y/n felt a strange sense of kinship with Scarecrow, a connection forged in the unlikeliest of circumstances.

Eventually, Y/n yawned, the lateness of the hour catching up to her. Scarecrow noticed, standing up from where he had been sitting. "I should go," he said, his voice carrying a note of reluctance.

Y/n nodded, feeling an unexpected twinge of disappointment at the thought of him leaving. "Yeah, I guess it's getting late."

As Scarecrow moved toward the window, Y/n called out, "Will I see you again?"

He paused at the window, turning slightly to look at her. "I'm sure you will," he said, a hint of a smile in his voice.

And with that, he slipped out into the night with Craw flying after him, leaving Y/n with a mix of emotions and the lingering thrill of their conversation. 

-

After two calm weeks, Bruce finally agreed to Y/n resuming her nightly endeavors alongside him. Although he harbored lingering doubts about Scarecrow, Y/n managed to clam his concerns, assuring him that Scarecrow would not pose a threat.

As Y/n and Batman moved stealthily through the Narrows, the dense fog seemed to cloak their presence further, blending them into the night. This part of Gotham, with its tight alleys and towering buildings, felt like a world entirely its own.

"Keep your guard up," Batman whispered, his voice barely carrying over the mist. "The Narrows are unpredictable."

Y/n nodded, her senses on high alert. The Narrows always had a way of keeping you on your toes, its residents too used to the shadows. But tonight, there was an odd stillness, as if the very air was holding its breath.

Suddenly, Batman stiffened, his head tilting slightly, the universal sign that he was receiving a communication through the cowl's integrated comms. Y/n watched him, waiting for instructions, knowing that whatever had just come through could very well dictate their next move.

After a moment, Batman turned to her, the glow from the city behind him casting a shadow over his face. "Riddler's causing trouble downtown. I need to go now."

"I'll stay here. Keep an eye on things," she offered, already mentally preparing to handle the Narrows alone.

Batman nodded, a silent message of trust and confidence in her abilities. "Be careful," he said before grappling away, disappearing into the night sky.

Alone now, Y/n felt the weight of the silence around her. The Narrows, with its whispering shadows and secrets, suddenly seemed even more foreboding. She took a deep breath, centering herself. This was her domain too, her responsibility.

"Thought he’d never leave," came a voice below her, drawing her attention downward.

As Y/n leaned over the edge of the rooftop. To her surprise, Scarecrow stood on the balcony below, his figure illuminated by the faint glow of the city lights.

"You've been here the whole time?" Y/n exclaimed, taken aback by his sudden appearance.

"I've been waiting inside. The place was abandoned," Scarecrow replied calmly, gesturing towards the building behind him.

Y/n hopped down from the rooftop, landing gracefully on the balcony beside him.

"Wow, Batman and I need to step up our game," she remarked, impressed by Scarecrow's stealth.

"Haven’t seen you as Batgirl in a while," Scarecrow noted, his gaze lingering on her.

"Yeah, thanks to you. I was sidelined. Batman thought you were gonna go after me," Y/n explained, a hint of frustration in her voice.

"Keeping you safe. Wise man," Scarecrow replied cryptically, a faint smirk playing on his lips.

Y/n chuckled, shaking her head. "More like overprotective," she whined.

Y/n could hear Scarecrow smirk behind the mask. "He has reason to be. You're not exactly easy to replace."

Y/n rolled her eyes playfully. "Flattery will get you nowhere," she teased.

"Where's Craw?" Y/n asked, looking around.

"Is my presence not enough for you?" Scarecrow teased.

Y/n side-eyed him, and Scarecrow chuckled. "He's back at my lab."

Scarecrow leaned against the balcony railing, his gaze scanning the darkened streets below. "So, what's the plan now? Are you patrolling solo?"

Y/n nodded. "Looks like it. Batman got called away to deal with Riddler downtown."

Scarecrow hummed in response. "Well then, I guess it's just you and me tonight."

Y/n raised an eyebrow, a hint of skepticism in her expression. "You planning on causing any trouble?"

Scarecrow chuckled, shaking his head. "Not tonight."

They fell into an easy silence, the sounds of the city filling the air around them. Despite the darkness that surrounded them, Y/n couldn't help but feel a sense of camaraderie with Scarecrow, an unexpected ally in the night.

Y/n cast a sidelong glance at Scarecrow, noting the unusual cleanliness of his attire. "Not the usual tattered suit?" she pointed out.

Scarecrow glanced down at his suit. "Well, one has to look clean to impress," he replied, glazing at her.

"I'm sure Batman doesn't mind how you look," Y/n quipped, a playful glint in her eye.

Y/n leaned her back against the balcony railing, her gaze meeting Scarecrow's with a hint of mischief.

"Although, I must admit, the rugged look suits you," she teased, a sly smile playing on her lips.

Scarecrow chuckled softly, his gaze meeting hers with a spark of amusement. "Is that so? Perhaps I should stick to the tattered aesthetic then," he countered, his tone laced with flirtatiousness.

Y/n's laughter rang out across the night sky, the sound mixing with the distant hum of the city below. "You do you, Scarecrow. Just don't expect me to swoon over every torn thread," she replied, a playful glimmer dancing in her eyes.

Scarecrow leaned in slightly, his voice lowering to a whisper. "Ah, but what if I told you I have a whole wardrobe of tattered suits just waiting to impress you?"

Y/n chuckled, her heart fluttering at the playful tone in Scarecrow's voice. "Just for me? Scandalous.” 

"Well, if torn threads won't do the trick, I'll have to find another way to catch your eye." Scarecrow added.

Y/n raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a mischievous grin. "Oh? And what approach are you planning to take?"

He leaned in even closer, his gaze locking with hers. "I suppose I'll have to rely on my charming wit and irresistible charm," he replied, his tone filled with playful confidence.

Y/n chuckled, the sound light and melodious in the night air. "Smooth talker, are we?" she teased, her own playful demeanor matching his.

Scarecrow's grin widened, a glint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "Only when I'm in good company," he admitted, his voice softening slightly as he held her gaze.

Y/n's cheeks flushed at his words, her gaze lingering on his captivating eyes. "You certainly know how to flatter a girl," she teased, unable to suppress the flutter of excitement building within her.

Scarecrow chuckled softly, the sound sending a thrill through Y/n. "Only because you make it so easy," he murmured, his gaze holding hers with an intensity that left her breathless.

"If I weren't on duty, I might have been tempted to steal a kiss from you right here," she teased, her fingers playfully tugging at his noose.

With a wink, she turned on her heel and disappeared into the abandoned apartment, leaving Scarecrow to ponder her words.

"You never know, the night is young," he remarked, his voice laced with playful innuendo.

"Oh, but I could never kiss a man whose face I've never seen," Y/n remarked.

"Oh, but the mystery adds to the allure, don't you think?" Scarecrow countered.

Scarecrow chuckled, the sound echoing in the dimly lit room. "Who says you haven't seen it before?"

Y/n halted in her tracks, her eyes widening in surprise as she turned back to face him.

"So, I have actually seen you before?" she asked eagerly.

Scarecrow nodded, a hint of amusement in his demeanor. "Yes, indeed," he confirmed.

Her excitement grew, and she leaned in closer. "Did we talk?" she pressed.

"We did," he replied, a slight smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

Her disbelief turned into sheer astonishment. "Oh my god! Seriously? Can you tell me more?" she exclaimed.

"We had quite a conversation, and we crossed paths a few times afterward," Scarecrow disclosed.

Y/n racked her brain, trying to recall any details, but she was drawing a blank. Feeling frustrated and a little foolish for not making the connection, she sighed. Despite now knowing what he sounded like without the mask, she still couldn't piece it together.

"Holy fuck! That's incredible!" Y/n exclaimed, laughter bubbling up from within her. "Can you give me just a tiny hint about what you look like?" Y/n pleaded.

"Sorry, but that would spoil the fun," Scarecrow replied.

Y/n persisted, "Well, do you at least know if I find you attractive?"

"Why do you want to know that?" Scarecrow questioned.

"Because it might have to kiss you after all," Y/n teased.

Scarecrow considered her words before responding, "...I don’t know. You didn't seem particularly impressed when you saw me, you were just a bit awkward at first. But to be fair, so was I."

There was a hint of vulnerability in his tone, though Y/n couldn't be sure. "Perhaps my awkwardness was due to the fact I was starstruck?" she offered playfully.

Scarecrow sounded unconvinced. "Unlikely," he countered gently.

"Or… could it be because my attention was already captivated by someone else? Maybe a certain Scarecrow?" Y/n teased, aiming to lighten his spirits.

Scarecrow's demeanor shifted, his voice tinged with defensiveness. "Why the sudden interest, Batgirl? You've never shown any feelings towards me before. What's changed?" he asked.

Y/n found herself confused by the unfolding situation. When had she begun to flirt with Scarecrow, and why was she so invested in making him believe she was romantically interested? Whenever this change occurred, she didn’t mind it.

"Woah. You started this, and don't act as if you weren't flirting with me too," Y/n retorted.

Scarecrow's tone never softened, his eyes narrowing as he studied Y/n's face. "And if I was? What are your intentions, Y/n?" he asked.

"I don’t know! I was just bantering, playing along… what were your intentions then? How do I know you're not just leading me on so you can gas me again?" Y/n retorted, turning the tables on him.

This clearly offended Scarecrow. "You know it was an accident."

"Do I?" Y/n challenged.

Scarecrow's expression softened, a hint of regret in his eyes. "I didn't mean to hurt you," he said quietly.

Y/n felt a pang of sympathy. "I know," she replied softly. 

They stood in silence for a moment, the weight of their conversation hanging in the air. Eventually, Y/n spoke up again. "Look, I didn't mean to upset you."

"Look, I didn't mean to upset you," Y/n said, her tone sincere.

Scarecrow took a deep breath, visible even through his attire. "And I apologize if I seemed defensive. It wasn't my intention."

Their eyes met, an unspoken understanding passing between them. Both were treading uncharted waters, neither sure of where the current would take them but willing to navigate it together.

"So, I've been meaning to ask," Y/n began, again with the playfulness in her voice, "do you wear contacts?"

Scarecrow tilted his head slightly, "Prescription ones, yes."

"But not colored?" she probed further.

"No, why do you ask?" Scarecrow's response carried a mix of curiosity and amusement.

Y/n's tone softened, warmth seeping into her words, "It's just that... you have really pretty eyes."

"Again with the flattery?" Scarecrow teased.

"It's just the truth," Y/n replied with a grin.

"And here I was thinking I might get a kiss," Scarecrow joked.

Y/n chuckled, shaking her head, "I told you, I’m not going to kiss a man I don’t know."

Scarecrow shrugged, a playful glint in his eyes, "That’s a shame."

The distant wail of sirens interrupted their banter.

"I should probably leave now," Scarecrow remarked.

"Yeah… see you later?" Y/n said, a hopeful note in her voice.

"Count on it. Until then... See you at Arkham," Scarecrow said, disappearing into the night.

Y/n's mind raced to piece together the puzzle he had inadvertently presented her. It took a moment for the realization to sink in, but when it did, her heart skipped a beat. 

"Wait a minute!" she called out, but it was futile, Scarecrow was already gone.

Her mind buzzed with newfound clarity. Tall, lanky, formal speech, glasses, and now, a connection to Arkham. It all clicked into place with a sudden jolt of realization. How had she not seen it before?

"Holy fuck," Y/n breathed, her pulse quickening.

The pieces of the puzzle were finally falling into place, revealing a truth she couldn't ignore. Scarecrow... was someone from Arkham. And in that moment, a single name echoed in her mind with chilling clarity.

The conversations they'd shared, the topics they'd discussed, all pointed to one undeniable truth. His fascination with fear, his strange approach to their encounters, it was all too familiar now.

The memory of their first meeting flooded back, and suddenly, it made perfect sense. The shock on his face, the careful choice of words. It was Dr. Crane, right before her eyes.

Y/n couldn't believe she hadn't seen it sooner. How had she missed the signs? How had she not recognized the man behind the mask all along?

Now faced with this newfound knowledge, Y/n was at a crossroads. Should she maintain the facade of ignorance, carrying on as if nothing had changed? Or should she confront Dr. Crane, acknowledging the truth that lay between them? And what about the promise she'd made, the playful banter about kissing him. Was it all just a game, or did it hold deeper significance now?

One thing was certain, she couldn't risk revealing her discovery to Bruce. As she grappled with these thoughts, Y/n resolved to tread carefully, to navigate this delicate situation with caution. The truth had been revealed, but its aftermath remained to be seen.

-

Throughout the morning, Y/n felt restless as she awaited her encounter with Dr. Crane. Stuck in Dr. Young's office sorting files, she impatiently waited for the opportunity to find him. 

As soon as she finished with the files, Y/n swiftly stored them away and left the office, determined to seek out Dr. Crane in the secure section of Arkham.

As Y/n made her way through the corridors of Arkham, her mind raced with anticipation. She had been waiting for this moment, hoping to confront Dr. Crane. Suddenly, she spotted him in the distance, his figure unmistakable amidst the gloom. Their eyes locked, and she saw a hint of amusement in his expression, as if he knew she was coming.

Her heart skipped a beat. Feeling a surge of determination, Y/n hastened her steps, closing the gap between them with purpose. As she reached Dr. Crane, she grabbed his arm firmly, surprising him with her sudden boldness. His smirk widened slightly, betraying a mixture of surprise and curiosity at her actions.

Without uttering a word, Y/n tugged him along, leading him towards his office. Dr. Crane offered little resistance, seemingly taken aback by Y/n's assertiveness. As they entered the office, Y/n swiftly closed the door behind them and turned the key in the lock, sealing them inside.

"You sly motherfucker," Y/n breathed out.

Entwining her fingers in his hair, she drew him closer, her lips crashing against his in a fiery embrace. The kiss ignited a whirlwind of emotions, fueled by pent-up desire and the thrill of discovery.

Caught off guard by Y/n's sudden boldness, Dr. Crane hesitated for a moment before surrendering to the intoxicating allure of her kiss. His hands found their way to her waist, pulling her closer as the intensity of the moment enveloped them both.

For a fleeting moment, the world outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them in their own private universe of passion and longing. But as the kiss deepened, an obnoxious buzz interrupted the moment, reminding them of their surroundings.

Reluctantly breaking the kiss, Y/n and Dr. Crane gazed into each other's eyes, a mixture of surprise and desire reflected in their expressions.

"I... I didn't expect..." Dr. Crane began, his voice trailing off as he struggled to find the right words.

Y/n's heart raced as she searched his eyes for any sign of regret or hesitation. But instead, she found a spark of something else, a glimmer of longing and vulnerability that mirrored her own.

"I'm sorry," Y/n whispered, her voice barely above a breath. "I just couldn't resist."

She noticed a blush creeping up Dr. Crane’s cheeks as he adjusted his glasses.

"Am I fogging up your glasses?" Y/n teased.

Dr. Crane chuckled nervously. "Not disappointed, I see," he replied, his tone unable to hide his embarrassment.

Y/n smiled, her eyes twinkling with affection. "Now, I could never be disappointed in my Scarecrow," she said, her words filled with warmth.

Dr. Crane's blush deepened at the endearing nickname, but he tried to maintain his composure. "I hope you don't go around kissing all your superiors," he joked, attempting to deflect the attention.

Y/n grinned mischievously. "Just you, Dr. Crane," she said, her tone teasing yet sincere.

Dr. Crane's lips curled into a soft smile at her response. "Seeing as circumstances change, you can call me Jonathan," he offered, his voice tinged with newfound intimacy.

"Well, Jonathan… I'm glad to finally know the man behind the mask," Y/n said with a smile.

"You better not go off telling your bat friend about this," Jonathan warned playfully.

"And lose my nighttime companion? No way," Y/n retorted, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

Jonathan chuckled at her response. Y/n’s eyes drifted to the closed office door.

“We should probably be getting back to work now," Y/n said, a hint of reluctance in her voice.

"We should, yes..." Jonathan began, his gaze lingering on her. "But I've never been one to follow the rules too closely," he added, drawing her closer into his embrace.

Y/n chuckled softly, realizing she wouldn't be leaving the office anytime soon. With a smile on her lips and a newfound connection in her heart, Y/n embraced the unpredictable journey ahead, knowing that whatever was between them was going to be complicated. But as Jonathan's lips met hers once more, Y/n felt a rush of exhilaration, realizing that wouldn’t want it any other way.

-

A/N: Thank you so much for the request 💚 I really did enjoy writing this fic, enemies hit differently when it's in superhero fics and I love it. Even with the fic being 15k long, I wasn't sure how to make them 'lovers', so I ended up just making them playfully flirt and just turn it into real attraction cause...slay. So yeah, it's a bit fast paced but I am still happy with what I've written and I hope yous are too :) It took me quite a while to write as I've just been so busy with Uni and work lately, finding time between has been difficult. Thank you again and I hope you enjoyed 💚

[red-riot-unbreakable-heart]

Hawks x Reader Imagine

You’ve been on too many dates to count at this point – maybe 7? Maybe 10? It could even have been 14. Hell, they’ve all blurred together in a haze of happiness and laughter the likes of which you’ve never known in a romantic relationship.

You’re flying – tucked into Hawks’ protective arms as his powerful wings propel you both through the air. It’s exhilarating to be up this high, yet to feel so safe. You look up into Keigo’s soft face and smile – he’s wearing his typical lazy grin and his soft blonde hair is plastered flat in the wind. He smells like a mix of oak and sweet honey, and you hope that when he leaves you later tonight your clothes will still carry the scent for a bit.

“Brace yourself, birdy.” He calls out over the howl of the evening wind as he touches down on your apartment’s rusty balcony. He gains steady footing and then slowly places you down so you can stand.

“That was so fun Keigo – and the mini-golf was a hoot, too!” You say enthusiastically, recalling the way Keigo had accidentally let go of his club on an upswing, sending it zooming through the air and into a small pond. Hawks laughs, still a bit embarrassed by his lack of coordination on the course.

“Any time I get to spend with you is a blast, gorgeous.” He pulls you back into his chest and wraps his arms securely around you. You let your head rest on his muscular shoulder and inhale deeply, taking in his delicious scent once more.

“Can I tell you a secret, birdy?” He asks, absentmindedly running a hand down your hair.

“Of course, Kei.” You sigh contentedly at the motion, enjoying the way he traces a finger along the shell of your ear.

“I didn’t quite understand it at first, because I’ve never dated anyone like this before. But yesterday I was finally able to put a name on what I’m feeling…and, well…I’m falling a little bit in love with you.” The words come spilling out of his mouth in a nervous rush. He’s rambling and sweating in the cool evening air.

“Oh, Kei.” You sigh, your heart overflowing with emotion for this silly chicken Pro Hero. You pull your face away from his chest so you can see him fully. His bright eyes glint in the hazy city lights as you pull him in for a show stopping kiss.

His lips are impossibly soft as they move in time with yours. He seems to be savoring every sensation as he groans into your mouth. You lightly drag his lower lip between your teeth in that way he likes and you can feel his hands slip down to grab at your ass. He quickly moves his mouth down to your neck, your collarbone, your shoulder – anywhere he can easily reach with his hot mouth.

“I feel the same way.” You sigh as you feel his fingers move to swirl around your chest. “I’ve been a little bit in love with you since you asked me out to coffee while on patrol.”

“Really?” Hawks chirps as he continues to kiss along the curve of your shoulder. “Sometimes I wonder how I managed to land someone as gorgeous as you.”

You slide your hand up his back and between his wings, sussing out the sensitive spot between his feathers that you’ve learned drives him wild. After a moment of searching, you find it and press down lightly. The groan that comes out of the Pro Hero’s mouth is nearly sinful.

“Why don’t we take this to your bed, birdy?” Keigo says in a low, husky voice as he scoops you into his arms and slides open the door to your apartment. “Let me show you just how much I love this body of yours.” And he spends the rest of the night doing just that.

[mbruben-stein]

How would Tokyo Revengers react to their girlfriend s/o taking a hit for Emma and dying instead of her.

A/n / warning: Note this is kind of going to be really sad headcanons. I am just warning you all before you read this. This is going to mention death and is going to be really sad.

Mikey:

Mikey's heart shattered into a million pieces as he watched his beloved Girlfriend s/o take the fatal blow meant for Emma. The sound of the metal baseball bat striking against their body echoed in his ears, sending a wave of agony through his entire being. In that moment, everything seemed to move in slow motion as he rushed to their side, his hands trembling as he tried to hold onto them, hoping against hope that they would open their eyes and smile at him once more.

But as s/o whispered their final goodbyes, Mikey felt his world come crashing down around him. Tears welled up in his eyes, blurring his vision as he clutched onto them desperately, unwilling to accept that they were gone. He could hear Emma's sobs in the background, her grief mirroring his own, but he couldn't tear his gaze away from s/o's lifeless form.

In a daze, Mikey tried to shake s/o awake, his voice cracking as he begged them to come back to him. But the reality of the situation hit him like a ton of bricks, and he collapsed to his knees, his heart aching with a pain unlike anything he had ever felt before. The loss was unbearable, the guilt of not being able to protect them weighing heavily on his shoulders.

As he looked up at the sky, tears streaming down his face, Mikey vowed to avenge s/o's death. He would make Kisaki pay for taking away the light of his life, and he would ensure that s/o's memory lived on in his heart forever. But for now, all he could do was hold onto the memory of their love, a love that had been tragically cut short.

The last words he said to his S/o who was dying in his arms: "Stay with me baby. I can't bear to lose you. Please, don't leave me. I need you... I love you."

Draken:

Draken's world came crashing down the moment he saw his girlfriend s/o lying lifeless on the ground, a victim of Kisaki's ruthless attack. His heart shattered into a million pieces as he knelt beside her, desperately trying to wake her up, to hear her voice one more time. But she remained still, her eyes closed, her body cold.

Tears streamed down Draken's face as he cradled her in his arms, unable to accept the cruel reality of her death. The pain in his chest was unbearable, aching with the loss of the person he cherished more than anything in the world. He couldn't understand why she had to be taken from him, why fate had been so merciless.

As he looked at her peaceful face, memories of their time together flooded his mind. The laughter they shared, the moments of pure joy and love they experienced, all now tainted by the devastating loss. Draken felt a deep sense of guilt for not being able to protect her, for failing to keep her safe from harm.

In that moment of grief and despair, Draken made a silent vow to avenge her death, to make Kisaki pay for the pain he had inflicted on him and on his s/o. He would not rest until justice was served, until he could find some semblance of peace in a world that had turned dark and cruel.

And as he held her lifeless body close to his chest, Draken whispered words of love and sorrow, promising to always remember her, to carry her memory in his heart until the end of his days. He knew that he would never be the same without her, that her absence would leave a void that could never be filled. But he also knew that he would honor her memory by fighting for a better future, by ensuring that her sacrifice would not be in vain. And with that determination burning in his soul, Draken rose to his feet, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead, fueled by the love and loss of the one he had lost.

The last words he said to his S/o who was dying in his arms: "Stay with me, please. Don't leave me alone. I can't do this without you. I love you more than anything. Fucking fight, don't give up on me now. I need you. Please, stay with me."

Takemichi:

Takemichi's world shattered into a million pieces when he witnessed his beloved Girlfriend s/o take a fatal blow meant for Emma. The sound of the metal baseball bat hitting her body echoed in his ears, haunting him with the image of her falling to the ground. His heart clenched in agony as he rushed to her side, desperate to save her, but it was too late.

Tears streamed down his face as he held her lifeless body in his arms, his mind unable to comprehend the cruel reality of her death. The pain of losing her was like a dagger through his heart, leaving him gasping for air as he struggled to accept the harsh truth.

Takemichi's determination, usually unwavering, crumbled in the face of such a devastating loss. He felt lost, alone, and broken beyond repair. The guilt of not being able to protect her consumed him, filling him with a deep sense of regret and sorrow.

As he mourned the loss of his s/o, Takemichi vowed to carry her memory in his heart forever. He would never forget the sacrifice she made for Emma, and he would honor her by fighting for a better future, one where such senseless tragedies could be prevented.

But deep down, he knew that his world would never be the same without her by his side. And as he lay awake at night, haunted by memories of her smile and her laughter, he whispered her name into the darkness, longing for her presence once more.

The last words he said to his S/o who was dying in his arms: "I love you more than anything in this world. You've brought light into my life, and I'll carry your love with me forever. Thank you for being my everything. Please know that you'll always be in my heart."

[i-heart-slashers]

Chance Encounters

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | Dwayne x gender neutral!reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | A chance encounter cheers you up while on the boardwalk but was it really a chance encounter?

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 1.7 k

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | n/a

The salty breeze swept through the boardwalk, carrying with it the laughter of children, the sizzle of fried food, and the distant melody of carnival music.

Among the crowds of people strolling along the wooden planks, you walked with purpose, eyes fixed on the colorful array of games lining the bustling strip.

You had always been drawn to the challenge of carnival games, the promise of winning a coveted prize lighting a spark of determination within you.

Today was no different. Pockets jingling with coins and a heart full of optimism, you made your way to one of the many game booths adorned with oversized stuffed animals dangling tantalizingly from above.

The game was simple enough—toss rings onto bottles, and if one landed just right, victory and a plush reward awaited.

With practiced precision, you flicked your wrist, sending ring after ring spiraling through the air. But each attempt fell short, missing the mark by mere inches or bouncing off the bottles with frustrating defiance.

Undeterred, you persisted, your determination growing with each failed toss. Time seemed to blur as you continue your quest, coins slipping through your fingers like grains of sand. Yet, despite your best efforts, the elusive victory remained just out of reach.

As the sun descended towards the horizon, casting an amber glow over the boardwalk before blossoming into purple-blue, you finally admitted defeat.

With a heavy sigh, you stepped back from the game booth, hands empty and spirits deflated.

Despite your best efforts and a considerable dent in your wallet, the teddy bear remained firmly perched atop its pedestal, mocking you with its unattainable allure.

Once so tempting, the lure of the prize now felt like a distant dream.

With a sad sigh, you pulled yourself together, and just as you turned to leave, a voice broke through the din of the crowd. "Hey there, having trouble?"

You turned to see a figure standing beside you, walking from the shadows of a nearby alley, with a warm but mysterious smile on his lips. "Maybe a fresh pair of eyes is all you need," he offered, gesturing towards the game with a playful grin. "I'm Dwayne"

Blinking, you couldn't help but feel a flutter of curiosity as he gestured toward the game booth with a casual tilt of his head. "Mind if I give it a shot?"

You hesitated, your cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and intrigue. But something about Dwayne's easy charm and genuine kindness put you at ease, and you found yourself nodding in agreement.

Giving him a small smile, you stepped aside, watching with a mix of anticipation and skepticism as Dwayne approached the booth. In one fluid motion, he picked up a ring, his movements confident and precise.

With a flick of his wrist, the ring sailed through the air, spinning gracefully before landing with a satisfying clink on the neck of a bottle. Cheers erupted from the crowd as Dwayne repeated the feat not once but twice more, each toss hitting its mark with pinpoint accuracy.

You could scarcely believe your eyes as Dwayne turned back to you, a triumphant grin lighting up his face. "Looks like we've got a winner," he said as if there was no doubt he'd win.

At that moment, as the carnival lights flickered overhead and the sounds of jubilation filled the air, you felt a spark ignite within you. It wasn't just the thrill of victory or the allure of the prize that captivated you, but something deeper.

"Looks like we make a pretty good team," he remarked, holding out the plush prize for you to take.

You accepted the oversized stuffed animal from Dwayne with a mix of gratitude and awe. As you reached out to accept the bear, your hands brushed together, sending a jolt of electricity coursing through your veins.

"Wow. This is exactly what I wanted," you said with a shocked laugh.

Dwayne offers to carry the oversized plush as he leads you down the boardwalk, seemingly taking the initiative to hang out with you without stating it as you follow his lead wordlessly.

For some reason, your hand itched to reach out and take his— but for obvious reasons, you don't.

As you walked along the boardwalk again, the plush prize tucked securely under his arm, you knew that this chance encounter had sparked something that would stay with you long after the carnival lights had dimmed.

You couldn't help but feel the weight of the evening's events settle into a gentle warmth. Dwayne walked beside you, his presence both comforting and protective. Now tinged with twilight's soft hues, the carnival's atmosphere seemed to pulse with an enchanting rhythm.

"Thank you," you said, your voice barely above a whisper yet filled with sincere gratitude. "I was about to give up."

Dwayne's smile broadened, a light chuckle escaping his lips. "Sometimes, it just takes a fresh perspective," he replied. "Or a bit of luck." His voice teases something more knowing, but that was lost on you.

Nodding, you couldn't help but feel a strange connection to this man you had just met, who was clearly comfortable walking around shirtless under that jacket.

You couldn't shake the feeling that your paths had crossed for a reason. "Do you come here often?" you asked, trying to prolong the conversation but grimacing at the question you uttered.

"Every night," Dwayne said, his gaze drifting over the bustling boardwalk. "I have a lot of brothers, and chaos on the boardwalk is a nightly routine for us. Plus, I enjoy the energy— people-watching is sort of my thing."

"Your thing?" you found yourself eager to learn more about him.

"I'm a… free spirit, you could say," Dwayne explained. "Having a lot of time gives me the freedom to come here when I want. And you? What brings you to the boardwalk?"

You hesitated for a moment, contemplating how much to share. "I just moved here, and I guess the boardwalk attracted me. Something about the carnival games, the lights, it all feels so nostalgic."

Dwayne nodded in understanding. "I get that. There's a certain magic here, isn't there?"

The two of you walked in companionable silence for a while, the sound of your footsteps blending with the ambient noise of the carnival. You glanced at the stuffed animal tucked under his arm—a giant, fluffy bear with a cheerful expression.

It was a stark contrast to the earlier frustration you had felt.

"Want to grab a bite?" Dwayne suggested, breaking the silence as his eyes roam over you with a deeper meaning before he grins. "I know a place that does amazing food."

You feel something warm inside you at his question, whether it was him caring for your hunger or just wanting to spend more time with you. Either way, you were eager to follow his lead.

With a shared smile, you made your way to a nearby food stand, the tantalizing aroma of fried dough and powdered sugar guiding your steps.

As you waited in line, Dwayne's easygoing nature made the conversation flow effortlessly; he asked questions and then listened. You talked about favorite memories, childhood dreams, and the small joys of life.

When your order was ready, you found a quiet place to sit, the stuffed bear occupying its own place near you. The first bite of the warm, sugary treat was blissful, and you couldn't help but let out a contented sigh.

"Delicious, right?" Dwayne said, his eyes twinkling with amusement as his eyes roamed your face almost as if trying to savor that instead of the food.

"Absolutely," you agreed, taking another bite. "You weren't kidding."

You continued to chat, the evening unfolding around you both like a storybook. The lights of the carnival rides twinkled in the background, casting a soft glow over their conversation. You found yourselves laughing more than you had in a long time, the stress and disappointment of the earlier game wholly forgotten.

As the night wore on, you wandered through the boardwalk, enjoying the various sights and sounds. You played a few more games, and your competitive spirits were ignited by friendly banter.

Dwayne proved to be skilled at more than just ring toss, winning a couple of smaller prizes, which he generously handed over to you.

"You're really good at these," you remarked, both impressed and envious.

Dwayne shrugged modestly. "Years of practice. As I said, my brothers and I have lived here for a long time. Plus, it's all about having fun, right?"

You couldn't argue with that. You were having fun, more than you had initially anticipated. As you reached the end of the boardwalk, the ocean stretched out before you, the waves illuminated by the moonlight.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Dwayne said, his voice soft as he looked out at the water.

"It is," you agreed, feeling a sense of tranquility wash over them. "Thanks for tonight, Dwayne. It was… unexpected, but in the best way." being with him somehow felt natural, like he was always supposed to be there.

Dwayne turned to face you; his expression was sincere. "I'm glad I could make your night better. Sometimes, the best moments are the ones we don't see coming."

You smiled, feeling a flutter of something akin to hope. "So, do you think I'll see you again?"

Dwayne's smile was warm and reassuring, but it also reflected a knowing look, like you were a new part of his life now. "I'll make sure of it." He grinned as he said your name smoothly as he bid you farewell.

As you said your goodbyes, you couldn't help but feel this was just the beginning of something special. Your stomach tightened in an excited expression akin to a schoolgirl crush.

You can see him walk towards a group dressed similarly, like him on a bike. A wild blonde patted him on the shoulder with a wide grin, and a smaller guy waggled his fingers at you in a wave.

Turning away as a blush heated up your skin, you started to make your way back home. You grinned, walking past the final few stands on the way out.

With its lights and laughter, the boardwalk will always hold a special place in your heart. But tonight, it had given them something more—a chance encounter that felt like destiny.

Meeting someone who turned a moment of disappointment into a night of unforgettable memories.

As you carried your prizes home, it suddenly struck you that you had not introduced yourself in the flurry of frustration at the game.

So, how did Dwayne know your name?

[thehighladywrites]

sneak peak ft rich, spoiled, partygirl!reader x bodyguard!azriel

Azriel's shadows sensed you up on a table, stripping your dress off like it was nobody's business. They clocked you right away, noticing how you moved all smooth and slippery, and how your eyes darted around like you were up to no good. Your pupils were wide as saucers, and your gaze? Totally vacant. You were swaying on your feet, barely holding it together, like you were one step away from crashing down.

With a frustrated huff, Azriel closed the distance and hoisted you over his shoulder in one swift motion, your limp form draped over him like a sack of potatoes. Meanwhile, Cassian and Rhys stood nearby, barely containing their amusement, a smirk playing at the corners of their lips as they watched the show unfold.

Furious, you pounded your fists against Azriel's back, demanding to be released.

"Put m’down, you stupid brute! What the fuck, get your hands off me!" you shouted, your voice laced with anger and defiance. Despite your protests, Azriel held firm, his grip unwavering as he carried you away from the chaos of the club.

Spotting Rhysand’s handsome self, you suddenly shifted gears, your influenced state blurring the lines between defiance and flirtation. "Heyyy, Rhysie!" you slurred, flashing him a lopsided grin.

"You... you lookin' really fucking fine tonight, wanna cme home with me?" you slurred, your words dripping with exaggerated seduction as you leaned in closer, your attempts at flirting hindered by your unsteady balance.

Rhys couldn't help but grin at your intoxicated attempts at flirtation, amusement dancing in his eyes. "If you want to have fun with me, you need to sober up, pretty girl." he replied with a chuckle, his grin widening as he played along with your intoxicated antics, though his gaze held a hint of concern beneath the amusement.

Although your were high as fuck you weren’t stupid. Rhys was an absolute catch and you heard the High Lord had a wicked side to him. You bit your lips at the idea of him under you. Surely he’d be a fun little distraction while your parents were away. Well, anything to get you away from Azriel. He was a real party pooper and you’d speak your mind if he just put you down.

"Wher' are ya takin' me? I demand ya put me down, I wasn't finished! Wait- weren’t we makin’ out? Are you taking me hme to you?"

Azriel rolls his eyes, “Stop making a fucking fuss. I’m taking you home.”

comment to be added to the taglist💗💗💗

[marvelfanfics1]

I just fell. I know a random start but when I was playing outside I fell and hurt my knee and it bleeded 😥 maybe you can do the same with daddy stucky x little reader x little Peter (Tom Peter) where the reader fell and it bleeded so her dada Steve toke care of it and put a cute little unicorn plaster (I'm not sure how it calls bc English is not my native Language) and she is still crying when they got out of the bathroom and daddy Bucky but her in his lap and hug her and little petie comes to the reader and put a kiss on the hurting knee and says "that makes u feel bwtter"

🩹<---- I mean this thing

Kisses make it better

(GIFs not mine)

The Super Soldiers Little Angels au

Pairing: daddy!stucky x little!reader x little!Peter

Warnings: Age Regression, hurt knee, mentions of blood, fluff, comfort

A/n: Hey guys 🤗 I'm really sorry for the lack of fics, I had a writersblock and have been struggling with family drama (ya know the usual 🤙🏻) anyway, I hope I overcame it now and can spoil you with fics again 💜

                                   ⭒𖥸⭒

It was a beautiful day outside so Steve and Bucky decided to take you and Peter to the compound so you could play outside with other littles from the Avengers group.

At the compound were so many fun things to do and with how much space they have you can find activities literally everywhere.

Now you were running around a play structure with Kate while Peter was chasing you both. It was all fun and games until you tripped over your own foot and fell on the rubber ground that was around the structure.

It all happened so quickly that it took you a few seconds to now feel the pain that was coming from your knees, tears already blurring your vision before you could even take a look at it.

Peter was a second later beside you, trying desperately to figure out what was wrong when he saw your bruised knees and quickly jumped into action.

"I go get daddies!" he said and rushed off to where all the caregivers were sitting and talking.

Meanwhile, poor Kate was trying as hard as she could to comfort you, Peter would most definitely almost suffocate you in a hug, Kate only rubbed your back, assuring you that Peter will be back soon with your daddies and it did comfort you in a way.

Soon enough you saw Peter coming back with Steve jogging after him and he quickly knelt beside you.

"Shh, it's okay, Angel. Dada's here." he grimaced a little when he saw your bloody knees. Your little sobs broke his heart, he and Bucky hate seeing either of their littles in pain, and in a quick motion, he picked you up and carried you inside to the nearest bathroom.

"Dada hurts." you cried while Steve was looking for some bandaids and something to clean the wounds.

"I know, sweetheart." he kissed your forehead. "I promise it will be better soon."

You kept crying silently, wincing when he touches a sore spot with the alcohol pad. When all the blood was wiped off he grabbed a colorful unicorn bandaid and put one on each knee, hoping to cheer you up a little but you were still sobbing a little.

"Let's go see what daddy's doing." he offered you a smile and you nod, raising your arms for him to pick you up which he happily did.

Your crying ceased to little sobs and hiccups while Steve carried you to where he was before Peter came in running and frantically pointing outside. There you saw Peter who was leaning with his back against Bucky's shoulder and playing on his switch but he quickly turned it off when he saw you.

"Our poor doll." Bucky cooed and you started to make grabby hands for him.

Steve handed you over to him and you got comfortable on his lap with your back against his chest and him wrapping his arms around you to make you feel secure and safe.

Peter frowned a little, seeing how some tears kept falling from your eyes. He got up from his spot beside his daddy to kneel before you both. First, you were confused, tilting your head to the side. He then leaned forward to kiss each of your knees carefully.

"Dis will make you feel better!" he smiled and you wiped the remained tears away, smiling back at him.

"Fank you, Petie."

He got back on his spot and took one of your hands caressing the back of it with his thumb, making your daddies hearts almost explode from the cuteness.

                                   ⭒𖥸⭒

For everything:

@my-river-lilly @pauntedblacknails @fanfictioniseverything @devilslilbabysblog @buckymydarlingangel @hallecarey1 @daybreakwinter @loveshineslikethesky @wandaslittlewhore @vase-of-lilies @white-wolf1940 @simpingbutch @mischiefsemimanaged @alina02 @teddybearsgrr @doozywoozy @angelbabydoll28 @glxwingrxse @lilymurphy03 @veryvaughnny @lokigirlszendaya @youngstarfishdinosaur @little--baby--bear @minideathgoddess @rach2602 @aagn360 @gh0stgurl @flourishandblotts-inc @fluffyblanketgecko @lovelyy-moonlight @yoruse

Stucky masterlist:

@almostcontentcreator @stuckysgirl27

Crossed out are the ones I somehow can't tag!

[another-lost-mc]

When It's MC's Turn to Cook THE DEMON BROTHERS x gn!MC | 1.1k words | SFW Rating/Warnings: Mostly fluff and silliness. Some jealous/possessive behaviour if you squint. [ Obey Me! Masterlist ]

Belphegor

It’s not surprising that he’s the least interested in helping you in the kitchen since it’s exhausting cooking for so many hungry demons every night

He complains when it’s your turn to cook because it means he has to nap alone

He has trouble napping when you’re not with him, so he’ll wander into the kitchen with a yawn and ask if you need a hand (but you both know it’s a hollow offer - he’s just trying to be polite)

Depending on how sleepy he looks, the most you ask of him is to help you set the table 

Instead of returning to the attic for a restless sleep, he’ll simply go to your room instead where he can hear you in the kitchen while he tries to doze off

You let him know that dinner’s ready first by waking him up with a kiss, followed by relentless tickles if he still pretends to be asleep

Beelzebub

Cooking is challenging entertaining when Beel is around, but you need to strategize if you want food to actually make it to the table for everyone else

You have some quick snacks ready by the time he walks into the kitchen to see you - there are some sandwiches, cut up veggies and dip - light fare that won’t ruin his appetite but will keep his hands and mouth occupied

He’s one of the brothers that won’t shy away from making requests for certain meals, especially if there’s something he heard about that he wants to try (only if he thinks you’ll like too - he appreciates its hard work)

He likes going to the shops with you after class to help you pick out ingredients, and he’ll carry all the bags home without breaking a sweat 

Asmodeus

Asmo loves spending time with you in the kitchen, but he’s more like your personal cooking cheerleader than a hands-on helper

He sits on a stool nearby and keeps you company while being out of the way - this also prevents him from getting his clothes or hair dirty if something splatters or spills

He talks about new pictures and gossip he sees on Devilgram, and calls you over to look at his DDD when he comes across something really interesting or scandalous 

He knows you don’t like having your picture taken so he takes candid shots of your dinner-in-progress with your blurred form somewhere in the background 

You can guess when he’s posted something on Devilgram because more of his brothers (particularly Mammon) come and visit you in the kitchen shortly after

Satan

Satan is a fantastic partner in the kitchen when you’re in the mood to try cooking something new or adventurous

He learns about a lot of human world food from the books and TV shows, so sometimes he requests things even you haven’t cooked or eaten before

He likes to help you plan things ahead of time so he gathers a couple different recipe options to see which one you want to use

Once you’ve chosen the recipe, he goes through the ingredients and adjusts the amounts on your shopping list so it'll be enough to feed everyone + Beel + leftovers (if you can hide them from Beel fast enough, anyway)

Satan is skilled with a knife and eager to show off help with the prep work

If you ask him to teach you a particular technique, he stands behind you while he holds your hands in his as he guides you through the motions until he's satisfied you can repeat it safely

He has a short fuse if Mammon his brothers barge into the kitchen and flirt with distract you while you're cooking together

Leviathan

Levi is happy enough to sit in his room and wait until he’s called for dinner, cooking isn’t a task that appeals to him and he’d rather spend his time catching up on new anime releases 

Some days if he feels particularly social, he’ll sit on a chair like Asmo does and play his handheld while you cook

If you’re not sure what to make for dinner that night, usually you’ll ask Levi - he never asks for something that’s complicated or takes too long

More often than not, he suggests ordering takeout instead - the sooner you eat, the sooner you can play games with him

He likes to cuddle with you in his tub while you keep an eye on the delivery tracker app 

Mammon

Mammon isn’t the most skilled at food prep or cooking, but when his brothers aren’t around he’s with you in the kitchen the entire time you’re preparing dinner

After he’s helped chopped some vegetables for you, he brings them over with a faint blush on his cheeks and mumbles that it’s harder than it looks

He’ll flash you cocky smile when you tell him he’s done a wonderful job, and he says that’s why you should just ask him for help whenever you’re cooking instead of his brothers who obviously aren’t as gifted as he is

Sometimes you have to slap his hand away when he tries to stick his finger into a dish to taste it 

When you tell him to use a fork or spoon if he wants to sample something, he surprises you when he holds it to your mouth expectantly so you can have the first taste

It’s hard to resist when he offers you something you know he worked really hard to help you make, after all

You remind him to use a clean utensil for himself, but he pops yours into his mouth as soon as you look away

Later when you ask him how it tastes, he says it’s perfect (but he’s not referring to the food)

Lucifer

RAD business often keeps Lucifer on campus later than everyone else, so some nights you rarely see him before dinner is finished and served at the table

You’ve mentioned in the past how you had special family dinners on Sunday nights growing up, and when your cooking night falls on Sundays in the Devildom, you try to uphold the tradition

Lucifer is usually less busy on Sundays too, so cooking together to create more elaborate meals becomes something of a ritual you both take comfort in

He takes you to the market himself and helps you when you’re unsure of which Devildom ingredients to choose; he’s also more knowledgeable when it comes to choosing and cooking Devildom meats, so that is his responsibility the nights you cook together

It’s not practical to drag the record player into the kitchen, but music streams from your DDD while you both work quietly on prepping and cooking that night’s meal

Lucifer is surprisingly relaxed in the kitchen - the top buttons of his shirt are undone, his sleeves are rolled up, and he has an apron tied around his waist

When he works beside you at the counter or walks past you to retrieve something, you can feel his hand brush against you gently, an affectionate gesture that leaves a pleased smile on both your faces

[rottiens]

GONER | GOJŌ SATORU

✮ wc. . 2.3K

✮ tags. . angst, fem reader, major character death, manga spoilers. divider creds: cafekitsune.

✮ about. . a sequence of events that begin with you ending your relationship make you reflect on the effect your decisions have on the future.

How long is "forever"? For a child who is left in line at a supermarket while their mother goes back to get something else to put in the cart probably a long time, for someone who is sick it probably feels like an eternity.

For someone to whom you tell for a whole year that you love them, and that you will always be together probably the phrase ceases to carry the same weight as when it was first said, after a few months, one of you may say the words because they sound nice rather than because you really mean it.

Looking back you're not sure you remember it very well. The scene is a blur in your head, just like those old VHS's where you start in one scene and if it wasn't cautiously recorded it ends up jumping to a totally different one. You're not sure exactly what you said or how it sounded, nor what he responded to hearing you say it, you struggle to remember because it's important now.

You can't quote the exact words that came out of your mouth but you have etched in your memory his flushed cheeks, the way the gentle breeze ruffled his hair naturally. Everything felt like slow motion or at least that's how it's saved in your head, you think the detail of his blush was stored so clearly in your memories because you've never seen him so red before.

His face was just like a painter's canvas that had had a big red stain spilled down the center.

"Come on. Let's go home before it rains," Satoru suggests, ignoring the knife you casually plunge into his chest.

You clutch the black bag hanging from your shoulder tightly to your body and avoid his blue eyes at all costs, after all, the oval sunglasses do little to hide them and you don't know if you'd rather he was wearing the blindfold today. You glance down at his high-soled loafers, as shiny and shimmering as the rest of his outfit. You divert your eyes to his briefly to stall for time and refocus on your shoes.

He calls your name, reaches out his hand breaking the infinite distance between you and you pull back adding more space. You think you hear his heart break.

"You can't be serious." His hand returns to his side in submission, his throat rising and falling swallowing saliva. "Are you serious?"

"I want to focus on other things."

"I'm unfocusing you?" Satoru laughs dryly, briefly bringing a hand to his chest pointing to himself before lowering it.

"I'm not sure if we're compatible, I think we're only together because we're both lonely."

His lower lip trembles because what you said was a low blow, it's not fair for you to mention the things he's secretly told you while you were snuggled under the covers of his bed for a situation like this. Concern flashes fleetingly across his face along with a lightning bolt that breaks the sky. The parking lot is practically empty, there are couple of cars scattered around as if it had been put there specifically as part of the scenery, you lose yourself in satoru's porsche behind him, gray as the cotton clouds that suffocate the sky, the flash of the kisses you have shared, the laughter, the secrets that stay stranded in it stick in your chest like a sharp arrow but you quickly disguise it by blinking fast and pretending to smooth out the non-existent wrinkles in your clothing.

The silence is heavy. Satoru stares at you so intently that you think he has forgotten to blink.

Satoru opens his mouth but the sudden torrent of water that flows over your head startles you. Satoru gets wet in seconds which makes you wonder why he doesn't activate his infinity and take refuge in his technique, why he stands next to you as if made of stone, still contemplating you.

"You're tearing me apart!" he shouts through the sound of the rain collapsing against the pavement, the water making his shirt cling to his chest, his white skin glistening through the fabric.

"I'm so sorry."

You need to run from there, the rain is everywhere just like the pain that covers your body from head to toe. You feel it all over, crushing your bones, squeezing your lungs and stealing your breath. You are ready to run and flee by his side, but his long fingers stop you, catch your wrists and pull you to him.

Leaving you no escape he pulls you into a forced kiss full of hunger and resentment, his fingers squeeze your cheeks tightly almost as if he's forcing you to stay close but it doesn't matter if he hadn't, you wouldn't have pulled away anyway. He brushes your tongue with his, you let him taste you one last time as he tastes the trace of the drink you were given at the event you attended only minutes before.

The perfect couple, he strongest next to the best sorceress, everyone was talking about the children they would have together, about the future of both clans and the great family they would form, all without asking you first about how you felt. You immerse yourself in a lot of expectations that you have to live up to when all you want is to survive at the end of the day, with so much pressure from your family and the higher ups it is only logical that the band that keeps your appearance of the perfect woman stretches and torn.

You hate yourself for doing this to him before he leaves on a week long mission away from you but you think it's the perfect time for him to detox from you.

As you pull away to breathe he still holds your cheeks possessively, gazing at you just like the most valuable object on display. You can't know what those pretty eyes that hide a sea in them are saying, but you wouldn't blame him for hating you.

"Let me take you home," he asks in a raspy voice and you shake your head.

You can't be near him alone again, not in his car, not in your apartment.

Then Satoru releases your cheeks and they immediately burn from the absence of his fingers and embarrassment, he takes the longest backward step he can and lets you run away from him, literally and metaphorically.

That was the last time you saw him, after leaving him soaking wet in the rain.

It's not like you were desperate to see him again but you weren't sure that would be the last time you'd see his face either. With everything that happened after that day you purposely decided to avoid him, you took missions as far away from Tokyo as you could, avoided going to school on the days he would be working as a teacher and ran away from every social activity you know he would be involved in… little by little the big strong couple fell apart until people accepted that it wasn't a rumor and that you two were really over.

Then he was called to Shibuya along with the other sorcerers who were available. Conveniently you were in Latin America, too far from home to do anything more than hope that all your friends made it out alive from the massacre that was happening there while all you could do was wait and find a plane ticket as fast as you could. You had your phone taped to your chest all night at the airport and all day until you got off the plane until Yaga personally called you to tell you the details.

Satoru Gojo was locked up in the prison realm, I have a death sentence on my head… You'd be lying if you said you heard anything else after that. The phone rolled free from your hand to the ground, crashing to the concrete of the street in a muffled sound.

On your way back you found Tokyo in a mess. Shibuya seemed to have been crushed by a large black hole that consumed and destroyed everything in its path, that it had been a phenomenon fallen from space would have been easier to deal with than admitting that the monster that had created that was still there, hiding in Itadori's body lurking like a predator ready to strike at the precise moment and you could do nothing but wait for it. Guilt digs into your chest as deep as a knife, you refuse to cry and swallow the pain like a hard pill, you should have been there.

Since then you did everything you could to rescue Satoru as you know he's the only one who can take on a now free Sukuna, you can't do it without his help or a logical plan. And after everything that happened between you you feel you owe it to him, as a silent pact that you must keep your word to.

So this is the first time you see him after that afternoon. He looks different from the last time you saw him, maybe it's your fuzzy memories that didn't store the information correctly but he looks bigger even, his hair has grown and his shoulders are broader.

"I knew you'd be here," he jokes in his usual tone.

Here, away from the show his students prepared to welcome him as the celebrity he is. Your belly was in knots and you didn't want to see him, you weren't ready.

You want to slap him for being the first thing he says after months of not seeing each other, for treating you like the sweet friend you always were to him because you feel you don't deserve it, but instead and against all odds you pounce on him. Your arms wrap around his waist embracing an infinite cold emptiness that then materializes in the warm body of your partner.

You hadn't realized how much you missed him until now, until his fingers melt into your hair massaging your skull and pulling you further into him, until you hear him unabashedly sniff your hair and say between giggles how much he missed the smell of your shampoo, you soak his black t-shirt in your tears while his chest burns. You feel safe, you feel at home, and you realize that everything you did was a mistake.

As you lift your clouded eyes to him, you see everything blurred by the raindrops threatening to overflow like that day yet at the same time, you have never seen so clearly in your life.

I love you so much, I'm so sorry - It's at least what you would have liked to say before he interrupted you, his lips make you weep when they touch your forehead so soft, so delicate, you want to stay here forever, you want to tell him to quit, you don't have to save anyone else, you want to tell him to run away with you, that you're ready to start a family and grow old together but you know what he's going to say. Instead, his words make you keep silent:

"You can tell me all that when I get back, I have a lot to tell you too."

You hit the cold table hard where half of Satoru's body rests and the whole room shudders as your cursed energy emanates from you in great waves.

"You promised you'd come back so get up off that fucking table," you sniffle through your nose without letting a single tear fall. Shoko next to you says your name as low as if she doesn't want to be heard, her fingers squeezing your shoulder feels like she's doing it with pity, like she's comforting you, why is she doing it? Perhaps it's her way of telling you that that's it . "Tell me you can do something." You look her straight in the eyes but she keeps quiet, like everyone else, no one dares to speak or scream, why is everyone acting like this is part of the plan? Why are you the only one sinking into a deep salty sea? "Shoko, fuck!"

She shakes her head. "I'm sorry."

Your knees fail you and you have to lie down on his legs, hiding your face in the white sheet covering what's left of him, your heart dropping to your stomach as something sour and bitter rises up your esophagus.

"Leave me alone." That's all you ask, you don't get up to see if she's heard you over your voice drowned out by the white cloth.

The smell of the hospital and medication, unused gloves and alcohol makes your gut knot, it's all too much. You can barely breathe, your throat burns and it would be so much easier to feel a curse tearing you from the inside out.

"You promised…" you sob again hugging the corpse of the one you recognize today as the love of your life. "I'm so sorry," you mumble with a mouthful of saliva.

When you broke up with satoru you missed him every day, every hour, everything reminded you of him because you didn't just lose a boyfriend, you lost a friend. You missed him but you knew you were going to see him again someday, when the symptoms of grief would subside for both of you, maybe you could even get back the friend you lost because of your relationship but now, missing Satoru is a feeling of anguish that won't go away, because you can't call him anymore, you can't show him the pictures you took in the day, you won't be able to hear his voice again, you won't be able to hold his hand again….. It is a loop of a feeling of emptiness that cannot be filled with anything because he is now gone forever, a black hole that no matter how hard you try to fill it with things and people it will not fill, because nothing and no one will be able to take his place.

And for a person who has lost a loved one who told them that he would be there with them until they grow old, forever is a long time.

notes. . ngl this is really a catharsis for me. i miss a person who is no longer with me irl and what better than to open my heart and let out some of the pain through one of the characters i adore the most <3

thanks for reading! Reblogs are appreciated. And don't forget to spend time with your loved ones and remind them how much you love them whenever you can.

[lovings4turn]

୭ 🗝️ ✧ ˚. 🪩 rum and revelations . . . (l.s.)

— after one too many drinks at a party, logan forgets how to keep his own secrets. but drunk words are sober thoughts, right? (1k words)

+ inspired by this ask from my lovely dolly — i know this was a sugar n spice saturday ask but it just made my mind go BRRR so i had to write a full fic!

+ contains fluff, drinking and drunk behaviour, mentions of vomiting but no one is actually sick. divider from cafekitsune

“woah, sorry!”

before you can react, logan is slumped against your side, essentially placing his full body weight onto you. high-pitched laughter escapes his lips as he attempts to steady himself, placing a hand onto the wall you’re both leaning against as he regains his balance.

there’s no mistaking it. he’s drunk. absolutely shit-faced, to be more precise. 

but you can’t really blame him. all of his hard work and determination had finally paid off, and just a few hours earlier he’d earned his first points of the formula one season. what kind of friend would you be to deny him the chance to celebrate? especially when such a large party had been thrown, a friend of one of logan’s friends offering up their house to host.

“feeling okay?” you ask, an amused smile tugging at your lips as he lifts his head.

“never better,” he responds. 

even his voice suggests he’s a little worse for wear. his accent has somehow grown thicker, and his words are a little sluggish, slurred together in a blur of vowels and consonants with a meaning wrapped up somewhere in the middle. a couple of glasses of champagne paired with tequila shots and rum and cokes will do that to a person, you suppose.

any conversation dies on your tongue as logan slumps forward once more, warm forehead resting against your shoulder as he emits a low groan. if it weren’t for his shoulders shaking with laughter, you would have been concerned. 

“this is what you call ‘never better’?” you tease. 

without thinking, you lift your hand to his hair, carding your fingers through the blonde strands in a motion that you hope is soothing. logan’s response comes in the form of an incomprehensible groan, and you can’t help but laugh yourself.

“i think it’s starting to hit me,” he admits, removing his head from your shoulder. 

his eyes are a little glazed over, and though he’s smiling, there’s a far away look on his face that indicates the copious amounts of alcohol is starting to catch up with him.

“alright, let’s get you some water,” you say, the smile audible in your voice. 

you and logan are no strangers to taking care of one another. you had been best friends for the past five years or so, so you’d had your fair share of looking after the other when they got a little too carried away at a party. still, you don’t think you’ve ever seen logan this bad.

you take his hand in yours, lifting his arm until it’s draped around your shoulder in an effort to support his weight. he stumbles alongside you, mumbling inaudible comments to himself and bursting into gratuitous laughter as he trips over his own feet. 

some divine force must be on your side, as you’re able to find an empty room without trouble. god knows how you would have reacted if you’d… interrupted something between two other partygoers. 

you lead logan over to the queen sized bed, sitting him down despite his protests that he’s perfectly capable of doing it on his own. luck was certainly with you, as the room you’d selected bore an ensuite bathroom. 

“wait here,” you instruct, striding over to the bathroom and filling a glass with cold water.

as the crisp water fills the glass, you check yourself over in the mirror. when you think about it, you’re not sure why. sure, you don’t want to be walking around with smudged makeup, or your hair a mess, but it’s also just logan. he’s seen you at your very worst sober, so why should it matter how he sees you now, when his vision is likely double? 

you thrust the glass into his hand, cupped palm coming to sit under his chin as he greedily downs the liquid. a few droplets hit your hand, and you hold back a shiver at the cold temperature.

“y’okay?”

“i’m not gonna vomit, if that’s what you mean.” he jokes, and you smile back. 

it’s quiet for a moment, until logan speaks again.

“thanks, y/n. i’m sorry, you should be enjoying yourself. yet you’re here taking care of me.” 

logan exhales, throwing himself backwards until his back hits the mattress.

“don’t apologise, logan. if there’s any night for you to get shitfaced, it’s tonight,” you reason, giving him a smile. “anyways, ‘m happy to do it. long as i know you’re okay.”

“you’re too nice,” logan mumbles, his tone once again far away, as though his mind is somewhere else entirely. “y’know, this is why i like you so much. you’re always so nice to me.”

suddenly, your heart is in your throat. 

“what?” you ask, forcing out a laugh.

he’s drunk. you reason. he has no clue what he’s saying.

“i mean, y’always there for me. at every grand prix, even when i’ve fucked a race, you’re in the garage for me. you always answer my calls, and you’re just really nice. and really pretty. my god, you’re so pretty,” logan mumbles.

his eyes are closed, and it’s apparent to you that he has no idea what he’s saying.

“oscar’s tired of me talking about you, actually. though he promises it’s not your fault. it’s mine, for talking about you so much. oscar thinks you’re great.” 

you’re glad he’s out of it, because it would be impossible to hide your flushed cheeks and dropped jaw. 

“of course,” you respond, begging your tone to stay even. “we’re best friends. and i’m fucking amazing.”

logan scoffs a laugh.

“yeah, ‘best friends’. not like i’ve been in love with you since we met or anything.”

it’s clear his tone is begging to be joking, but the alcohol prohibits him from being convincing. your heart is in your throat, and you swallow it down, praying it doesn’t try to crawl back out. instinctively, your hand finds itself in logan’s hair once more and you sigh, biting back a smile.

“we’ll talk when you’re sober, yeah? i think you’ll be quite pleased with how the conversation turns out.”

logan nods at this, leaning further into your touch. when he finally responds, his voice is thick with sleep.

"mm, sounds good. love you."

your heart skips a beat as you smile.

"yeah. love you too."

🏷️ tags : @faerieroyal @starriesworlds @itscrzy

[hisui-dreamer]

a calculated kiss

Pairing: Leona Kingscholar x gn!reader

Synopsis: When Leona Kingscholar makes an effort, you best believe he wants a reward.

Tags: crushes, banter, crack, math is mentioned, slight pining, bot proofread

Word count: 1.4k+

Notes: this fic idea came to me in a dream and boy what a nice dream it was hehe

Masterlist

The room was a labyrinth of towering book spines, stretching up to the ceiling and beyond. The air was heavy with the aroma of old paper and ink, giving the room a musty, soothing smell. The dim lighting cast a tranquil aura upon the room, transforming it into a sanctuary amidst the frenzied bustle of the school.

It was the perfect place to take a nap.

As Leona rounded the corner, his nostrils flared with a familiar scent that set his heart alight. He turned his head, following the aroma to its source, and there you were, hunched over a table with a look of intense concentration etched onto your face. Sunlight streamed through the window, casting a warm glow over your face and highlighting your face. Your furrowed brow and the way you squinted at the worksheets on the desk told him that you were deep in thought, lost in a world of your own creation.

For someone who walked into his life without warning, he found it surprising how quickly you had wormed your way into his heart. You were like a sudden gust of wind that swept into his life, catching him off guard, and he couldn't help but be enchanted by the way you danced and twirled, carrying with you the promise of change and new beginnings. Like a rare and delicate flower, you had miraculously bloomed in the midst of winter, bringing him a warmth and vibrancy that thawed his heart, inviting him to bask in your radiance.

With a nonchalant gait, he strolled over to where you sat. His lips curved into a smug grin, his signature expression that often preceded his teasing remarks. "Oi, herbivore," he quipped, dripping with amusement. "What's got you so bothered?"

You whipped your head up in response, mumbling his name in disbelief. "Leona... It's nothing really, I'm just having some trouble with this assignment," they admitted, holding up a sheet of paper covered in scribbles and crossed-out words. "I can't seem to get it right."

He raised an eyebrow in a curious fashion, a spark of genuine interest ignited within him, momentarily illuminating his otherwise impassive features. With a sharp exhale, a sound caught between a scoff and a chuckle, he leaned forward, his commanding presence drawing you in. "Hah, it can't be that bad. Show me," he offered, his voice a rich timbre that rolled off his tongue like honey.

As he scrutinized the paper, his sharp eyes darted back and forth across the page, his mind working at a breakneck pace. "Math, huh?" he mused, his lips curving upward in a hint of a smirk. "Hmm, this stuff is easy."

With a abrupt surge of energy, he dove into the work, his fingers deftly dancing across the page as he explained the problem with ease. You could hardly believe your eyes as he pointed out mistakes and offered suggestions, each correction executed with effortless grace. It was as if the numbers themselves were at his command, bending to his will with each swift stroke of his pen. "There, just like that."

"Wow, Leona, you're really good at this!" you exclaimed. "I never would have been able to do this without you!"

His lips curled upwards into a triumphant grin, his chest swelling with pride. "It's just some simple math," he replied confidently. "Now," he said, his hand darting out to snatch the worksheet from you in a blur of motion, "give it a go on your own this time."

At your incredulous expression, Leona huffed. "What, did you think I'd be doing your work for you?" he teased, his voice tinged with playful mischief.

You shook your head wryly, though your lips curved up in a smile. "I was hoping you would," you said, nudging him playfully. "But I suppose I'll have to do it myself."

Leona chuckled, enjoying your playful banter. "You'll be fine," he reassured you. "You won't learn if you don't do it yourself."

You let out a sigh, a hint of reluctance in your voice. "I know," you admitted, the weight of the task ahead of you starting to settle in. "But it's just so overwhelming sometimes. I don't even know where to start."

Leona leaned back in his chair, his viridescent eyes never leaving yours. "Well, break it down then," he suggested, his voice calm and reassuring. "What's the first step? What do you need to do?"

He guided you through the process, breaking down the assignment into manageable chunks, and you couldn't help but feel grateful for his help. Slowly but surely, his playful teasing gave way to genuine interest in your progress. He listened attentively as you shared your thoughts and ideas, offering advice and encouragement along the way.

As you gazed upon the once-blank notebook, now brimming with neatly-written answers, you were struck with a surge of pride and accomplishment. It felt as if a refreshing breeze on a sweltering summer day had washed over you, invigorating your very being. The weight of your academic responsibilities lifted, replaced by a sense of contentment and satisfaction that settled deep within your soul.

"Thanks, Leona," you said, your voice filled with heartfelt gratitude. "I couldn't have done it without you."

Leona's mischievous grin illuminated his face as he cockily replied, "Well, I think I deserve a reward for my services, don't you?"

You raised an eyebrow in amusement. "Oh really? And what kind of reward were you thinking of?"

Leona leaned in closer, the scent of his cologne mingled with the scent of the room, creating an intoxicating mix that made your head spin. His voice was a velvet whisper, weaving a seductive spell that sent a flock of butterflies aflutter in your stomach. His breath warm against your ear, he posed his question. "How about a kiss?"

Your cheeks instantly flushed as you stared at him in shock, not expecting his bold request. Leona couldn't help but chuckle at your reaction.

"Well… okay," you answered meekly.

His eyes opened wide like a startled fawn, but as he opened his mouth to speak, your delicate lips brushed against his, and he was struck by a wave of sensations crashing into him like a surging tide. The kiss was tender, a symphony of sweetness that sent electric jolts down his spine and set his heart racing like a galloping stallion. Leona could feel your warmth seeping into him, your tenderness enveloping him like a comforting blanket.

When you finally pulled apart, Leona blinked, before he started laughing, his body shaking with mirth. "Hahahahaha! Who would've thought a herbivore like you would have the guts!"

You shook your head and smiled, your cheeks still slightly warm. "You're the one who asked for it. But thank you for helping me with my homework. It means a lot to me."

He chuckled, like a melody of soft bells in the distance, drawing even closer until his forehead rested gently against yours. His warm breath danced across your skin. "It was my pleasure," he murmured, his voice low and husky like the deep rumble of a cello. "I wouldn't mind lendin' you a hand again, you know. As long as there's a little somethin' in it for me, of course," he added, his smug grin returning in full force, like the bright and mischievous glint of a cat's eyes in the dark.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his playful demeanor. "Always looking for a reward, aren't you?" you teased.

He shrugged, his eyes glinting mischievously. "What can I say? I like to be motivated."

You laughed, enjoying the banter between the two of you. As much as you enjoyed his company, you couldn't help but feel a flutter in your chest at his words. "Well, if you're looking for a reward, maybe I can think of something," you said, raising an eyebrow suggestively.

"Oh, I'm sure you can," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your heart thumped like a drum as you peered into his emerald eyes, brimming with an insatiable longing that made your insides twist in a knot. In a flash, his lips met yours, and you were enveloped in his embrace, his arms a shield that enveloped you. It felt electric, sending sparks flying through your body. It was as if the heat and fervour that had been simmering between the two of you had finally erupted into a tempest. As you melted into his hold, you couldn't help but wonder what other rewards he wanted from you.

But really, you could never deny him anything.

Masterlist

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