#that pre dates long before either of us gave a shit about her

[quillkiller]

’ive expanded her character since 2019’ ok and i’ve ’expanded’ her character and read fics about her since 2013. doesn’t give either of us monopoly on her characterization though like be so fucking fr….. no one is taking them away from us just because people have their own hc’s in a fucking fandom. relax and have a little fun instead idk

[readerthatreadsss]

Requesting more dom!peter 😮‍💨🥵

𝗔/N: Your request is my command! (especially since I've been searching for more dom!Peter fics myself and have been failing so I might as well do it my damn self!) Also, yeah, it's been a damn long time lmao. I planned to finish up and release this like 4 months ago. Then a whole bunch of bad shit happened and I kinda gave up on writing for a little bit (outside of school cause I need that damn Bachelor's degree) BUT I've slowly started reading again and that bled into me opening up my drafts and finding this and spending some time with it. If you couldn't tell I had a shit ton of fun with this one...so feel free to check my newly updated Masterlist and request guidelines and send me more requests! The more I get, the more I'm gonna force myself to actually write them. (If you already sent one just know I’m working on it I promise)

𝗔𝗹𝗹 𝗡𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗣𝗮𝗿𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 | 𝗧𝗮𝘀𝗺!𝗣𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗣𝗮𝗿𝗸𝗲𝗿

(heavily inspired by the song with the same title by Adele.) It came up in my shuffle and when I started listening to the lyrics it was just too perfect.

he's so fucking pretty aghhhh (gif not mine)

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: Tasm!Peter Parker x Vigilante!Fem reader

𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗖𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 5.6k+ (This is my big comeback so I might as well feed yall)

𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: You and Peter have been broken up for about 3 years, but when an impromptu visit to your apartment takes a turn...that may no longer be the case...

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 (𝟭𝟴+ 𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝗠𝗶𝗻𝗼𝗿𝘀 𝗗𝗡𝗜): SMUT!, lil bit of angst at the end (ex to lovers so ofc), minimal use of y/n, P*rn-with-plot, Reader and Peter are FERAL for each other because of their powers (enhanced senses and all that), p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap your willy before you fuck her silly), a lil possessive Peter, oral (r receiving), fingering, praise kink, Peter using his webs to restrain reader (pre-consented ofc), dom!Peter, sub!Reader (bratty at first tho), pet names (sweetheart, baby, pretty girl, angel), choking, rough sex, brief spanking, other positions, creampie, etc...

The remaining sunlight of the evening bled through your wide studio apartment windows as you finished folding what was left of your newly washed laundry. The plan for the rest of the evening was simple;

Drink two bottles of wine (knowing that your enhanced metabolism would sober the effects), catch up on a few missing assignments to keep your NYU professors off your ass, then jump into your suit and go patrolling.

It was a familiar routine.

Or at least, it had been...since he left.

Your relationship with him ended during your first year of college. To say it hurt like hell would be an immense understatement.

What hurt the most was the fact that you both gave everything you had to make it work...but long distance can be a bitch.

On that warm Saturday night in May, your ex-boyfriend received a call informing him that he had been accepted into a very prestigious engineering program (with a full-ride scholarship attached) all the way in California.

You applied for the very same program, so you knew just how big of an opportunity it would be. And, in good faith, you pushed him to take the offer.

You both insisted, "we'll make it work," and "we'll video chat and text every day. It'll be fine!"

What a load of horseshit.

It took 6 months for you to both arrive at the conclusion that you couldn't juggle your individual academic loads, your nighttime hero personas, AND a long-distance relationship all at the same time. A three-hour time difference didn't help matters either.

It took a while, but you eventually moved on. You kept your grades up, went on a few dates here and there, and even managed to convince yourself that you were doing fine without him.

Until...

*knock knock knock*

Your head peeked out from the fridge to look where you heard the strong yet hesitant knocks on your front door.

Only a handful of people knew where you lived and you weren't expecting to see any of them today.

Assuming it would be a postal worker or someone along those lines, you swung open the door with a polite smile.

"Hi-"

You felt your voice die in your throat as you locked eyes with the deep brown ones you hadn't seen in three years.

"Peter," his name fell from your lips, barely audible.

"Hi, Y/N," he replied with that awkward grin you knew all too well.

His hair was shorter than the last time you saw him, but from the tight fit of his jacket, you could see that was about the only thing about him that shrunk.

You wanted to actually hit yourself in the head for actually imagining yourself doing many things to his large...meaty...biceps- NO, no, no, no get a grip! a voice of logic sounded in your mind.

You hadn't realized how long you stood there silently sizing him up until he spoke again. "Can I...uh...come in, maybe?"

"Umm...sure," you nervously answered, finally taking note of the small cardboard box he was holding.

As you stepped aside to allow him entrance into your apartment, his familiar scent invaded your sensitive senses.

"Oh God," you muttered under your breath, knowing that he heard you, yet unaware that your scent had basically the same effect on him as well.

"You alright?" he turned and asked you in concern trying to hide the tightening of his jeans with the box he brought.

You nodded way too fast, promptly putting some distance between yourself and him. He hadn't been there for longer than 5 seconds and he was already having an effect on you.

"How've you been?" he questioned you, scratching his neck and actively avoiding eye contact. Unbeknownst to you, he was currently repeating every physics law he could remember in his mind to try to quell his growing erection.

It wasn't working very well.

"I've been fine. You?" you quickly spoke, slightly out of breath.

"I-uh-I'm alright," he shook his head with a tight-lipped smile.

He soon found himself just looking at you. It wasn't a blank stare, no, it was the sort of intense look you unintentionally gave someone when trying to commit every single feature to memory as if you weren't certain when you'd get another chance to.

It was a habit of his you noticed a lot when you were dating. And just as it did back then, it sent chills running rampant down your spine. Not to mention your nipples growing obviously hard behind your large shirt with no bra to hide it.

Peter noticed it immediately and fought back a smile, which you glimpsed.

"Why are you here, Peter?" you decided to get down to business before your body betrays you any further.

The brunette let the question hang in the air for a few seconds before actually coming up with an answer. "I wanted to drop these off," he placed the small box on your kitchen counter.

Your eyes immediately narrowed. "You could have mailed it. Or you could've just dropped it at the door and then left. So why are you really here Peter?" you would have felt worse about your tone if you weren't so bothered.

Why the hell did he feel the need to suddenly show up and make you start feeling things you swore you wouldn't feel for him again?

Peter took a deep breath. "Aunt May called me last week. She's not doing too good. So, I came back to help take care of her."

You felt your stomach sink at his words. While you both dated, May grew to be like a second mother to you. You had no idea she was sick.

"Oh shit Peter-I'm so sorry," you crossed the room to engulf him in a hug, despite your initial reaction to his visit.

Peter immediately accepted your hug and found the anxiety in his body dissipating soon after. Your hugs tended to have that effect on him.

He couldn't stop himself from deeply inhaling and drawing in your hair's familiar scent when he wrapped his hands around your clothed waist.

A few seconds passed before you released each other, with you also savoring the feel of his body against you and the way how your skin lit up with goosebumps though there was a thin layer of clothing separating his hands from you.

"I was just cleaning up my old room at May's and I found some of your stuff so I figured I'd drop by and..."

You nodded in understanding and walked over to where he placed the box.

It was mostly filled with old t-shirts, tools, and gadgets from days when you would sleep over at Peter's or stop by to help each other with school projects.

"Thanks," you sent him a smile as you closed the box.

Your smile warmed Peter's heart. It was actually his second favorite thing about you, after your hugs of course. "Yeah, you're welcome," he smiled back, running his hand through his hair. It was a mess by now, but you still wanted to run your hands through it…or maybe even pull on it-

"Sorting through some of this stuff made me realize how much I...missed you," he said, his tone growing more assured.

Thankfully, you were still facing away from him, not giving him the chance to catch the pained expression that briefly crossed your face.

But you could feel him slowly approaching your frozen figure and found your body silently reacting in ways it shouldn't be, yet again. "Do you miss me?" he asked, his voice heavy.

You held back the urge to scream "Yes!" because admitting that out loud would be taking 3 steps backward.

Admitting that you missed him would be undoing all the work and tears you put into moving on from him and the hopes and dreams you had for a life with him.

Admitting that you missed him would mean giving in to the part of you that thought back to your most intimate moments with him when you touched yourself.

And admitting that you missed him would mean letting him back into the four-cornered box you had locked yourself in for the past 3 years.

But, with every step closer that he took, your resolve disappeared that much faster.

"You okay?" he called for your attention.

Your sharp intake of oxygen brought a tense silence over the room when you turned to face him and realized that he stood close enough for your lips to nearly brush his.

"Peter, I-" you tried to form words, but then you saw his lust-filled brown eyes lower to your lips.

And that was all it took for the last of your self-control to disappear.

"Damn it," you mumbled once you realized what was about to happen.

Before Peter could question your outburst, you found yourself latching onto his jacket lapels and pulling him down to meet your lips.

It took mere milliseconds for Peter to react. After all, he had been thinking about doing this since you swung open the door and looked up at him with those eyes of yours.

His large calloused hands took hold of the sides of your face as you clashed in a heap of teeth and tongue. It was desperate and feverish but it was perfect.

It was a language only you and Peter seemed to master, even now after three years apart.

Your lips moved swiftly against his, eager to taste more and more of him with each passing second. You felt him press his growing bulge flush against you, causing a pathetic whine to involuntarily tumble from your lips and a smirk to find its way onto his.

"I did miss you," you softly spoke, "but we can't do this Peter," the logical part of your brain made an appearance, though you kept peppering his lips with kisses.

As his lips moved to your neck, Peter's hands slid down to your ass where he effortlessly lifted your legs off the ground and up around his waist. The feeling of his hands against the bare skin of your thighs garnered yet another moan from you.

"You don't sound so sure angel," you felt him smirk against your heated skin.

You hadn’t heard that nickname in years yet it sent small chills down your spine for the second time that night.

A mumbled curse slipped your lips when he nipped a particular spot below your ear. That was definitely gonna leave a mark.

You soon gathered the strength to pull Peter's hungry lips away from your body, swinging your arms around his neck to hold yourself up.

"We can’t go back from this, you know that right?" you spoke, the both of you panting from the effects of the last minute.

"I don't wanna go back," Peter shook his head, "I wanna fuck you, right here, right now," his lips immediately found yours before his words could fully resonate.

This caught you by surprise which allowed Peter to slip his tongue between your lips.

As his taste continued to flood your senses, you felt yourself grow alarmingly wet.

Peter knew it too because he slowly pulled back and smirked down at you. "I could smell you from the moment I walked in here. Glad to see three years hasn't changed the way your body reacts to me, angel," he accompanied his words with a quick slap to your ass.

His slap and the familiar pet name left you a moaning mess. Just like he knew it would.

A lovely laugh left Peter's mouth before his lips met yours again.

He walked your entangled bodies over to the kitchen counter without breaking the sloppy kiss.

Peter used one hand to blindly clear the counter and place you on it, which sent your box of things flying toward the floor.

Not that either of you cared.

"Too much clothes," you were barely able to say in between kisses.

You followed up by shoving Peter's jacket off his shoulders which fell to your hardwood floors with a thud. He immediately got the message and got rid of his t-shirt as well.

A shameless whimper left your lips at the sight of his very toned muscles. You easily maneuvered Peter's body closer to you and began kissing and sucking his neck and every other available inch of skin just as you had pictured earlier, making sure to leave a few purple bruises in your wake.

“You’re killing me here baby,” Peter harshly swallowed, his eyes sliding closed as you continued to have your way with his chest.

"Wouldn't be a terrible way to die though, right?" you mumbled between lovebites and licks. You felt like an animal in heat but you just couldn't get enough of him, the occasional flex of his muscles with each slither of your tongue and his deep groans only egging you on more.

The taste of his skin alone could've made you cum easily.

But the same could be said for Peter as the feel of your tongue slithering all along his chest had him practically creaming his pants then and there.

Fucking enhanced senses, he cursed inwardly.

“Alright, ease up pretty girl,” he reluctantly grabbed your head, detaching your swollen lips from his body.

“Your turn,” he tugged at the hem of your top.

You quickly pulled off the oversized t-shirt you were wearing to reveal your bare top half to him.

He spared no time in cupping your breasts with his eager hands. "Fuck, I missed you so much," he mumbled.

"Me, or my boobs?" you jokingly raised a brow at him.

"Definitely both," he grinned, bringing his mouth down to your tits.

As his tongue made contact with the soft mounds, you loudly moaned and wrapped your fingers in his unruly tangle of hair.

He switched between nipping and sucking on your nipples, in the way he knew you liked, while his free hand pinched and squeezed the other.

"Just like that Peter fuck-" hearing his name fall from your lips drove Peter insane.

His tongue flicked your sensitive nipples harder, and his eager sucking pleased you to no end.

Peter eventually pried himself away from your supple breasts, remembering the other parts of you he wanted to worship, and brought his hands to rest on the sides of your head. Your lips connected once more in a delicate kiss.

Though you knew what lay ahead for the evening, you were both perfectly content with each other's lips at the moment, just enjoying the constant waves of pleasure from the intimate contact.

But it wasn't long before the kiss grew heated and you tried to take control. Peter, however, wasn't giving you a chance.

"I leave for three years and you think you're hot shit, huh," he smirked.

"Why don't you ask the guy I fucked on this counter last week," you retorted, knowingly riling him up.

"Don't say shit like that, it's not funny," he nearly growled as his grip on your ass grew more forceful.

You secured your grip on his hair before pressing a small kiss on the side of his lips. "Gimme a reason to shut up then," you challenged him.

“Trust me, I will,” Peter grabbed your hands from his hair and forced them to your sides. His movements were swift as he laid you flat on your counter and ripped your thong off your body.

There he is, you smiled to yourself. This is the Peter you wanted to fucking ruin you.

You felt his face ghost your drenched opening as he deeply inhaled your scent. "You smell fucking delicious baby," he praised you, his mouth actually watering at the thought of tasting you.

A genuine smile found its way onto your face but morphed into a gasp when Peter teasingly ran his tongue up your sensitive slit.

"You taste even better," he added, using his strong arms to bring your thighs closer to his head. He wanted to tease you but it was getting harder to resist the urge to dive right into your heat like a man starved.

"Holy shit," you all but screamed as he briefly nipped at your swollen clit before sucking on it to soothe the sting.

His grip on your thighs combined with the ministrations of his tongue was pure bliss.

You attempted to slip your hands in his hair once more, but found that they were suddenly held in place against your counter by two of his webs.

Your eyes briefly widened at the feel of the rough, sticky material against your wrists, not having felt it in a few years. Back then, you expressed to Peter your desire to engage in some bondage, but being the daughter of a super soldier, it was clear that no rope or wire would be able to hold you. Peter's webs became the next best choice.

"That's not fair," you pouted, though it melded into a moan as Peter continued to suck and lick between your glistening folds.

The sounds of Peter devouring you resounded through the small apartment.

"I'm close Pete," you whined, your chest heaving in arousal.

Peter decided to focus his tongue on your eager bundle of nerves while he slowly inserted two fingers into your pussy. He instantly curled the digits causing you to briefly squirm at the sudden pressure against your G-spot.

"More," you begged, and Peter delivered, adding another finger inside of you. He immediately sped up his motion inside of you, making sure his fingers gauged that spongy spot to drive you over the edge with each thrust inside of you.

“That feels so fucking good, Peter, oh my God," you loudly moaned at the feeling of his fingers inside of you, calling forth an orgasm with no warning.

You repeatedly bucked against Peter's face as you came, white-hot pleasure filling your veins. Peter locked onto your stare, still skillfully working his fingers in and out of you, loving the way you constantly clenched around his fingers.

"Jesus fucking Christ," your legs jerked when Peter dove in and drank every ounce of slick you had to give while still fucking you with his fingers.

With his face now damp of your juices, Peter looked up to meet your blissed-out eyes. "Gimme one more, angel," he placed a soft kiss on your thighs, "I know you can do it for me."

You would do anything to keep Peter's mouth between your legs.

So, you eagerly nodded in response before taking a deep breath in preparation for another onslaught.

You didn't have to wait long.

Peter’s tongue went to work on your glistening hole while his fingers fiddled with your overstimulated clit. And, within minutes, your thighs were trapping Peter's head as an even bigger orgasm rocked you again, the borderline pornographic sounds leaving your lips shooting straight to his hardened cock.

Peter seemed perfectly fine with staying between your legs all night, but you had other plans.

"Pete, I need you inside me," you begged, tears of pleasure leaking from your eyes.

He rose from beneath you and climbed up to free your hands from his webs. "I know, baby, I know," he softly replied, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips and using his hands to soothe your reddened wrists. Your own taste on his tongue flooded your senses which made you even more desperate.

Peter obliged, slipping out of his sweatpants and sliding his girth between your folds. He used one hand to hold himself up above you on the counter, and the other to slowly guide his dick into you.

You both shared a long moan as he buried himself to the hilt inside your pussy, your wetness making it way too easy.

He held still for a few seconds, waiting for you to adjust and give the all clear for him to move.

Eagerness guided your words. “Fuck me, please.”

Peter set a brutal pace, knowing you were more than capable of handling it. Satisfied cries left your chest as you dragged your nails along Peter’s back, hard enough to leave trails.

“You can take it, pretty girl, I know you can,” he groaned as he continued to pound into you, trying desperately not to blow his load with the way you were constantly clenching around him and marking his back.

You tried to reply, but all that you could form were sloppy moans and broken syllables.

“Oh look at you, drunk on my cock already?” he teased with a particularly hard slam that prodded your cervix, “I’m nowhere near done with you yet.”

Pleasure-filled cries mingled with words continued to fall from your lips as Peter gently moved a few fallen strands of hair behind your ear with a hand. "-feels so fucking perfect," you muttered, your lips curved into a drunken smile.

Peter reached down and pinched one of your nipples, gaining a loud whimper from you. “I love hearing you make those pretty sounds for me baby,” his strokes grew harder and deeper.

“All for you, Pete, all for you,” you panted as he fucked into you, the delicious smell and sound of sex lingering in the air.

Peter used a hand to wrap around your throat before using the other to reach down and fiddle with your aching clit.

The combination of Peter’s dick hitting that perfect spot, his fingers massaging your clit, and the lack of air from his hand around your neck was making you dizzy and overstimulated.

You fucking loved it.

“God, I missed you,” you spoke breathlessly.

He moved closer to kiss you briefly and tenderly. “I missed you too, baby.”

No amount of time could take away his knowledge on how to please you, how to get you like this with ease, not when you were all he thought about for years on end.

Peter pressed a quick kiss to your forehead then continued to fuck you on your kitchen counter.

"I'm gonna cum again baby, right fucking there," you moaned out.

Peter's grip on your neck grew tighter. "Not yet, don't you cum until I tell you to sweetheart," he commanded you, removing his fingers from your clit.

A frustrated groan rumbled in your chest as you forced yourself to sustain your orgasm.

"Don't pout," he smirked.

And before you could realize it, Peter had pulled out of you and effortlessly flipped you onto your stomach.

A hand soon gripped your hair, yanking you up against his chest and eliciting a pitiful whine from you.

"Tell me what you want,” Peter commanded, using his free hand to strike your ass. Hard.

You whimpered again at the sting of his slap. “I need you inside me. Please,” you pleaded.

He seized your hair harsher and leaned forward for his lips to graze against your ears. “Beg.”

A small whine left your lips at his words. You were so desperate you didn’t even care how embarrassing this would be in retrospect. “I need to cum, Peter. Please baby you're the only one who can make me cum.”

Peter pressed a kiss to your neck, nearly causing you to lose your footing. And he soon complied by ramming himself back into you.

“Oh my Fuck-“ you cried before biting your lip, suddenly aware that you had neighbors.

But Peter pulled his cock from your heat, with just the tip remaining, before roughly slamming into you, his hips slamming against your ass with the motion. “Come on, lemme hear you angel.”

He repeated the action, knocking the air out of your chest, “Peter!” your hands gripped the sides of your counter with such force you were sure you felt it crack under your grasp.

Peter caught wind of this and freed your hair before using his hands to pull your hands behind your back. "You're so perfect baby," he mumbled in your ear, continuing to brutally fuck you from behind, "So fucking beautiful with my cock inside you."

"I can't hold it anymore," you cried, "I need to cum, Peter, please."

With that whiny tone and those overstimulated tears to top it off, Peter couldn't deny you any longer. "Let it all out for me sweetheart. Cum for me," he littered your shoulders with kisses.

Your eyes slammed shut as your walls contracted around his cock, pleasure shooting through you and rocking you on a seemingly cellular level. Your mouth opened in a silent moan, unable to form a sound from the satisfied tremors attacking your nerves. The intensity of your finish is one only brought on when Peter fucked you and it was damn near cosmic.

"Shit," you groaned in relief, your long-awaited climax passing.

Peter slowed his movements inside of you and released your hands. "You did so good for me angel," he pushed your hair aside and kissed your neck, trying to stave off his own orgasm for a little while longer.

Aftershocks rocked your body while Peter continued sporadically moving inside of you, yet you couldn't get enough. Your body was more than ready to keep taking whatever he dished out.

Peter didn't need to read your mind to see that, but he needed to make sure. His lips kept up their onslaught on your neck as he softly spoke, "You wanna keep going?"

"Hell yes," you panted with a grin that he couldn't fully see, "You still haven't cum yet, and my bed is still fully made."

Happy with your response, Peter gave your ass a sharp smack. "That's my girl."

He pulled out of you and turned your body to face him, smiling at the sight of your fucked out face. "Three orgasms and a handful of tears later and you're still the most beautiful girl in the world," he held you by the sides of your face.

His words left you reeling, causing a slight blush to dust your cheeks and butterflies to swirl within your stomach.

Before you could form a response, Peter leaned down to kiss you. He soon hoisted up your legs around his waist, preparing to escort you to your bed as per your own demands.

As he looked around for the bed's location, you took advantage of his momentary distraction and latched your lips onto his neck, reapplying the bruises you left there that were slowly fading already.

Peter was the happiest man on earth as he walked over to your bed, his cock prodding your soaked entrance, and your lips ravaging his neck.

He carefully sat on the edge of your bed, with you now on his lap and your legs still around him. You expected him to ease his length back into you but he slowly brought your head down to meet his intense stare.

You carefully wrapped your hands around his shoulders to keep yourself up, the silence in the room growing deafening.

You could tell from his eyes that he desperately wanted to say something, and you wondered if it was the same thing you had been considering as well.

But you were both aware of what saying those words would mean for your broken relationship and simply settled for smiles instead.

Peter brought a hand up to lay your forehead against his, allowing your breathing to momentarily sync.

"You ready for me?" he questioned you with a hand at the nape of your neck to hold your head against his.

You immediately nodded in response causing his own head to shake in time with yours. A small laugh was shared between you both as your nose continued to brush his own.

"You're adorable," you said before you could stop yourself.

That stupid full-toothed grin that you hadn't seen in a while soon spread across his beautiful face at your words, gaining another laugh from you.

"Last round?” you eventually pleaded with a smile.

"Anything for you," Peter replied, meaning it in every way. Adoration littered his stare as he slowly lowered you onto his length.

A satisfied mewl slipped your lips at the familiar feel of him.

The slow drag of his cock in and out of you, while he rocked your hips back and forth to grind on him, had your bottom lip sucked between your teeth with eyes closed and head thrown back in pleasure.

But Peter wanted to see it all. He wrapped a hand around your neck and forced you to meet his dilated eyes. “Keep your eyes on me, baby.”

His soft yet stern tone caused you to swallow back a moan as you continued to move on his girth.

He then slapped your ass with his free hand, silently urging you to move faster.

You leaned down and quickly kissed his lips before happily obliging, now beginning to bounce in his lap, chasing your next climax.

“There you go angel, just like that,” Peter’s stare never wavered.

Peter furiously fucked up into you, your moans and the constant smack of skin on skin filling the apartment.

His other hand which never left your throat now squeezed it harder. “Fuck!” You were barely able to moan out as your breasts bounced with your every move.

“Shit, you’re gripping me like a vice,” Peter groaned, his crude pace never faltering though his orgasm was closer than ever.

Your bed creaked under the onslaught of your bodies, but neither of you payed it any attention only having one goal in mind.

“One more time,” Peter planted his feet on the ground to get a better angle, "Need you to cum on my cock one more time."

But from the broken pacing of his hips to the strong furrow of his brow, you could tell he was close too. “Together?” You breathlessly suggested, grasping the nape of his neck with your hands.

Peter nodded in agreement before engulfing your chest and back with his arms, pulling you closer to his body.

Your breaths mingled, eyes focused on nothing except each other as his grip on your upper body allowed him to help you ride him even faster.

"Yes, Pete, oh my God-" pleas, curses, and moans tumbled from your lips as your skin buzzed at your incoming release.

"There you go, cum for me," Peter's voice grew strangled as his hips stuttered below you.

"Fuck," you wailed, your finish hitting you like a freight train and your pussy leaking into Peter's length.

The intense clench of your walls around him was all it took for Peter to explode with a groan, his pace faltering with that final pump.

"Holy shit baby," he panted, his cum painting your walls in spurts.

His firm hold on your body brought you collapsing on your bed together, satisfied and smiling.

And, for what felt like hours, you lay there in his arms. But of course, your thoughts began to run rampant.

Peter could damn near hear your thoughts spiraling.

"I don't regret this," he suddenly broke the silence you had elapsed into, "Do you?"

"Peter I-...I don't know," you freed yourself from his hold and sat up to look at him.

His brows furrowed at your response, hurt briefly flashing across his features.

"I loved you," you spoke, "I loved you more than anything."

"I know. I loved you too," Peter nodded with a small smile.

"And I will never blame you for leaving. Ever," you slipped a hand in his own and squeezed briefly.

"But?"

Your eyes stung with tears threatening to fall. "What happened to us, it damn near destroyed me, Peter. And it took so so long to put myself back together."

Peter swallowed harshly at your words.

"And then here you come, waltzing in here, fucking my brains out and making me feel things," you lowered your head, looking away from him.

You heard Peter move closer to you before feeling him lift your chin to face him again. His expression wasn't as disappointed as you'd expected, just confused. "Spit it out. I know you're holding something back."

"Why'd you come back here and-and do all this? Reminding me of what we had when you know you're gonna be gone again in the next few weeks?" you felt your voice shrink to a broken whisper.

Peter used his thumb to wipe away a lone tear that fell from your eye, his previously puzzled look now morphing into a smirk. There was obviously something he wasn't telling you.

You sniffled and lightly hit Peter's shoulder. "Well, now it's your turn bug face, spit out whatever you're hiding!"

You received no answer other than Peter leaning forward and pressing a deep kiss against your lips. You eagerly accepted and returned the spontaneous action but were left even more confused when he pulled away.

"That wasn't an answer," you arched a brow at Peter.

"I'm not going anywhere," he smiled.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that I'm moving back to New York, or already moved, technically," he began to explain.

Your mouth opened and closed in shock as your brain fumbled for a response and came up inconclusive.

"I'm gonna finish out the school year online and stay here to take care of Aunt May. I mean it, baby, I'm not going anywhere," he grinned, watching tears of joy fall from your eyes.

"This better not be some sick fucking joke Peter, I swear to God," you pointed a finger at him accusingly.

"Can you shut up and just come here?"

You couldn't help but laugh as you obliged and grabbed Peter's neck before pulling him in for another kiss, your face still wet from tears and a smile almost permanently etched onto your face.

You pulled away but sank into his open arms. You relished how securely he held you. "I'm so happy," you said aloud, truly meaning it for the first time in a long time, though it was only meant to be an inner thought.

Peter kissed your forehead and looked down to meet your eyes, "I'll never stop making you happy, Y/N."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

[shy-urban-hobbit]

Am I writing birthday fluff because it's my own birthday? Maybe 😁

Lambert/Aiden

pre-slash/platonic

"Birthday tradition." Aiden answered with a shrug as he popped another piece into his mouth before offering to Lambert as they sat in the shade and out of the summer heat. It wasn't unusual to see Aiden with sweet things but his tastes usually ran to anything and everything fruit based, not plain, unadorned honey cake. Which is what had prompted Lambert to ask about it in the first place.

"My mother. We had jack shit when I was a kid, but I remember she'd always surprise me with a honey cake on my birthday." He smiled softly at the warm memory, "It became a bit of a tradition also that I'd pretend I had no idea what it was she was hiding behind her back and try and guess the most outlandish shit I could come up with. Had to find substitutes after I got taken to the Caravan but as soon as I was walking the path and free to come and go." He gestured to the remaining sliver sat between them.

"You've never mentioned before it's your birthday today."

Aiden laughed, spraying crumbs, "Well it's the first year you've actually been with me for it, so it's never been worth mentioning before now. What about yours, since we're on the subject?

Lambert felt the slight jealousy that had manifested at Aiden's story morph into something a little harder as he stared straight ahead at a rather unfortunate squirrel which now found itself on the receiving end of a Witcher's scowl.

"Ah. Forget I asked."

Lambert shrugged as he leaned back on his hands, "Eh. I'm not the first one who doesn't know and I'm not gonna be the last. Half the other boys at Kaer Morhen had no fucking idea about theirs either, same with the caravan I bet." He grabbed up the last piece of cake and swallowed it without tasting before continuing, "Some of 'em who were a bit more sentimental about it would pick a significant date and use that, but that wasn't for me." Why would it be when everything significant or monumental in his long life so far was a day he'd rather forget: the day he got dragged to Kaer Morhen, the day he lost Voltehre, the day he survived The Grasses....all days he still sometimes had nightmares about.

"Well. Be sure to let me know if that ever changes."

"Hmm."

Aiden yawned as Lambert shook him awake for his turn on watch. Usually they wouldn't bother with such things with their enhanced senses but considering they were experiencing an unusually high number of contracts right now they didn't want to tempt fate by being complacent.

"Anything?" He asked

Lambert shook his head, "All quiet apart from a nosey badger."

Aiden gave him a pat on the shoulder as he moved to take Lambert's place against the trunk of a huge oak tree.

"August 9th."

"What?"

"My birthday. Let's just say it's August 9th."

Aiden couldn't help his smirk, "Isn't that the date-"

"The date some arsehole Cat stole half of my contract three years ago and then refused to leave me the fuck alone? Yeah. Don't read too much into it."

"Whatever you say, Lambert. Whatever you say." Aiden replied, settling against the trunk and trying to figure out what sweet treat Lambert would like best for his upcoming birthday.

[locution-youngster-enjoyer]

💗Granny May

💗The Narrator

💗Leslie

💗Charlie and Meatloaf

Oh sweet Jesus Christ /hj

You’ve opened a whole can of worms with that one, ESPECIALLY for the Narrator

Granny May

I don’t have a lot to say about her because I don’t care that much about her overall, so I don’t have that much to say about her backstory-

She’s been in the villain business for a long long time and was more respected in her younger years. Her husband was also a criminal, but before him she dated Hal Hardbargain, who made her the mech suit she uses. They’re now bitter exes, and constantly fight because they’re cranky old people. Unfortunately, Granny May’s husband passed away, but she Carrie’s on her villain career because it fulfills her.

Granny’s mom is not a villain, and didn’t exactly approve of Granny’s career, but still loves her a lot.

Eugene and Granny don’t really talk anymore after the shorts. Granny is disappointed he gave up on his villain career so early, but otherwise doesn’t focus much on him.

Uhhhh yeah that’s all I got for her, I haven’t really given her much thought lol-

The Narrator

HAAHAHHAHA oh god

Ok so- in my AU headcanon thing (Idfk at this point), there’s three different levels of reality. There’s the irl world (aka us, yes you person reading this), the middle ground, and any fictional world. Narrator’s live in the middle ground, aware they’re fictional but also living out there own lives in some strange form of free will. This means that it’s possible that any narrator from any media could interact, though it’s typically separated between film/tv show narrators, and game narrators.

Also, most of them without canon names just go with whatever name their VA has, so the Narrator would be named Chris.

Chris is happily married to the Powerpuff Girls Narrator (aka Tom)

Time works differently in the fictional reality (aka the whole show of Wordgirl) then it does in the Middle Ground. Time skips that are shown in the show aren’t actual time skips to the Narrators. Chris will literally just walk off and do something else until whatever time is being skipped to. While he can just stick around after an episode, there’s no real reason to, but he sometimes does so anyway because he actually likes his protagonists.

Tom is a whole separate thing so if y’all want me to talk more about these two please let me know. I love ‘em :))

Idk what else to mention, I just like the silly voice guy

Leslie

MY GIRRLLL. I have so much to say about her

In my au, Leslie and Victoria Best have a strange mentor and student relationship.

This is because that Leslie had a very similar childhood to Victoria. The reason she seems to be so multitalented is because as a kid, her parents put her through so many tournaments and extra curricular activities. Kids viewed her as either weird or mean because she was working all the time. Unlike Victoria, Leslie didn’t constantly boast about being the best, but she did have a silent air of superiority.

Until around 8th grade, when a teacher called CPS on her parents. They lost custody of her (because of the horrible shit they would do to her), and she started living with her grandma.

No longer having the constant force telling her to be perfect, Leslie’s mental health and self confidence tanked. It why as an adult she gets stage fright easily.

She went to a really prestigious high school filled with several people with rich families (including some other characters). One of said characters was Claire McCallister, who she quickly befriended (they also dated briefly, but it didn’t really work out, with them leaving on good terms)

Eventually, her high school and another high school participated in an event where they competed with each other, and that’s where Leslie met Lady Redundant Woman, Ms Question, and Mr Big (pre-transition). She specifically hung out and befriended Shelly, and helped him realize he was trans, so for a while they were absolute best buds.

After school, Leslie started working in economics, but was pretty bored with her life, until she heard of a job opportunity as a secretary for an up and coming company. To her surprise, she ends up reuniting with Mr Big.

Mr Big didn’t originally have Mind Control is his company statement, he suddenly got the idea from a random joke Leslie made that he took way to seriously.

Over time, Leslie started to lose her energy for the job and her self esteem started to sink again. The lack of credit and the overworking she received do nothing to help her.

Charlie and Meatloaf

These guys are so silly :]

Meatloaf’s actual name is Joe

These two were roommates in college and were best buds ever since. They both got a job at a construction company together, and they began to befriend a certain Dr Boxleitner who kept calling for their help because he kept blowing up his lab.

Post the accident, Two Brains ‘hired’ them to come work for him, since they were the only people who he knew and who were willing to help.

They’re also in an asexual relationship with each other

[moriihana]

we can’t fix each other but we sure as hell can enable each other instead || eighteen: desolation

pairing: dabi x disabled!gn!reader

overview: you meet dabi pre-canon because your cat, nugget, literally won’t leave the guy alone. friendship, fluff and (eventual) angst ensue.

chapter summary: you deal with emotions and dabi has to seek you out.

content: angst with fluff ig

word count: 1135

a/n: sorry this took so long to get out, last month marked the one year anniversary of me getting kicked out so i've been havin' a rough go of it ^^;

taglist: @iincandescenttt

AO3 link

← previous ; next →

You looked out at the destruction Shigaraki had wrought from where you sat atop a building, your legs dangling off the side and a frown on your face. The unmistakable sound of Dabi’s footsteps caught your attention. 

“Hey mouse. You’re awfully close to the edge there. What’re ya doin’ up here all alone?”

You glanced over your shoulder at him before turning your gaze back to the desolation. “Hi, Touya. I’m just thinking. What’s up?”

“You’ve been avoiding me.” Dabi sat next to you, frustration evident in his voice. “Fess up.”

“I haven’t been avoiding just you, pretty boy—I’ve been avoiding everyone.” When he clicked his tongue in disapproval, you sighed, “I’m… tired, Touya. I miss Twice, and Mister. Himiko hasn’t been the same, either. And Shigaraki…” Your voice took on a dark tone, a snarl lurking at the edges of it. “I knew he shouldn’t have gone through with the procedure. That bastard’s trying to steal his body. His expiration date passed lifetimes ago, and now he’s just trying to cheat death. He’s scared of not being in control.

“Is it worth it, Touya? Losing our friends? Possibly our lives and our freedom if we fail? Every time I stop to think for too long, I see Twice’s body and the life leaving his eyes. I think about how I couldn’t save him. What if Himiko’s next? Or you? What if you’re next, Touya?” Your voice wavered, breaking at the end. “I can’t lose you. I can’t.”

Dabi pulled you into his side, pressing an uncharacteristically gentle kiss to the crown of your head. “Twice’s death hit Toga hard, but the kid’ll be fine. She’s a big girl. As for me… I promised you I wasn’t goin’ anywhere, doll,” he said quietly. “I’ll crawl out of my goddamn grave if I have to—I ain’t leavin’ ya here alone.”

Your bottom lip trembled and you bit back a sob. “I’m scared, Touya. For the first time, I have people outside of you, Nugget and Boo that I care about—I’m scared the heroes are gonna rip it away from me,” you warbled. “Or me away from it.”

“I won’t let that happen. I made a you promise, doll, and I’m not one to break promises.”

You sniffled, burying yourself further into Dabi’s side. “I know,” you whispered. “But things don’t always go our way.”

With a deep sigh, Dabi shifted look at your face, ignoring your whine of protest as he lifted your chin to make eye contact. “Doll, there’s no use in worrying about that right now. I don’t know why all that’s botherin’ you so much all of the sudden, but shit’s goin’ our way for now, so enjoy it while it lasts, yeah?”

You pouted, but mumbled a quiet ‘got it’ anyways. “What’s so funny?” You huffed when he chuckled affectionately. He gave you a quick kiss to your forehead.

“You’re cute when you pout.”

“Oh, fuck off.” You punched him lightly in the chest, though you had a small smile on your face. “Asshole.”

“There we go.” Dabi brushed his thumb across your bottom lip. “As adorable as you are when you pout, I wanted to see ya smile.”

You narrowed your eyes and bit his thumb playfully. “Disgusting. Can’t believe you’re being affectionate, pretty boy. Gross. Get that outta here, you’ll make me sick.”

He rolled his eyes, flicking your forehead. “Alright, alright. Glad to see you’re back to normal. Seeing you all mopey and shit’s depressin’ as hell.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “Yeah, whatever. Was there anything else you needed, or were you just being a grump over not having my undivided attention?”

“Ah, right—Toga’s also been mopey and shit. It’s annoying. Cheer her up.”

“What makes you think I can cheer her up?”

“The kid loves you.” Dabi shrugged. “If anyone can make her get over her feelings or whatever, outside of those hero brats, it’s you.”

You hummed. “...yeah, alright. You know where she is?” You moved away from Dabi and grabbed your cane, hauling yourself off the concrete floor—or roof, technically—with a grunt. You adjusted your knee brace and brushed off your pants, then held out a hand to help Dabi up. He took it, pulling himself up.

“I have a hunch. Not too far from here, follow me.” 

You cracked your neck and trailed after him, your free hand shoved in your pocket. “How’d you know where I was?” You asked as you two walked, curious.

“Asked All For One to look for you,” Dabi drawled. “Didn’t actually expect him to cooperate, considering how much shit ya give the dude.”

“Maybe if he weren’t a creep and absolute garbage, I wouldn’t give him shit,” you grumbled, scowling. “I hate the guy.”

Dabi snorted, “We’re all well aware of that.”

You fell silent, a weariness settling deep in your bones—or maybe it was just the stiffness from the cold and sitting on a hard concrete roof. You looked around as you passed through devastation with Dabi, listening for the sounds of possible danger. Shadows of fleeing civilians moved in the corners of your eyes as they recognised who you both were. As you walked through a slightly less destroyed and slightly more populated area, you caught the sound of multiple footsteps crunching on debris. You paused when you noticed the footsteps were growing closer and reached out, your fingers curling around the back of Dabi’s coat. “Touya,” you murmured, standing stock-still. “Trouble.”

Stopping when he felt you tug on his coat, Dabi let out a dry chuckle when you let him know people were approaching. “We both know nobody stands a chance against my flames.”

“Of course I know that, pretty boy, but we both also know that support items have been made widely available. We don’t know what they might have,” you hissed, tightening your grip. “Just be on guard.”

“I always am,” Dabi scoffed.

You nodded and released his coat, moving your hand to your thigh to pull your knife out of its sheath. You kept a secure hold on it as you resumed walking, hyper-aware of the crunching behind you. About ten minutes passed before the footsteps sped up and someone called out to you and Dabi aggressively.

“Hey! You two aren’t welcome here!” 

With a sigh, you turned around to face the three people who approached. You took note of the weapons that two of them held, satisfaction glinting in your eyes as you watched fear wash over them. “We’re just passing through,” you said lightly. “You shouldn’t have troubled us.”

“Tch.” Dabi clicked his tongue and incinerated the three—they didn’t even have time to scream.

You rolled your eyes, but put your knife back. “Well, that’s dealt with. Can’t believe they didn’t recognise us beforehand…” you snorted. “Alright then, let’s go find Himiko.”

[spidertgirl]

Spider-Gwen and the Case of the Monday Blues

Part One- Monday Morning, So Forlorning

TW: This is just a little pre-Spider-Verse, ITSV Spider-Gwen transromance fic with Peter Parker (AFAB, before coming out). As the story takes through Gwen’s perspective, Patricia is dealt in prose as a woman. This is a plot point. Let me WRITE!!

This is also supposed to be cushy as shit so don’t take this too seriously. I literally finished writing it and immediately copy and pasted it here without any edits so its a bit rough. I just like posting.

Gwen hated Mondays.

Well, more than most. Sundays she tended to stay up all night, either catching up on schoolwork she missed catching criminals, or criminals she missed catching up on schoolwork.

Either way, loud blaring music kept her up far into the night. Last Night’s flavor was a local Hardcore band, mixed with some Beastie Boys, and a bit of Shoegaze.

Her ears were screaming bloody valentines like the worst hangover imaginable, and the wind rushing past them as she swung between skyscrapers did nothing to help. She had to stop and fall onto a nearby taxi just to get some relief.

Which was odd, she would have noticed if she had time to think. Her Sunday routine had long included ear-breaking decibels before and she thought nothing of it. A part wondered if she had just left her earphones in overnight, or taken a few too many hits, but the whole of her was somewhere else.

Something about this morning just drove her Spidey Sense wild. She barely felt it unless danger was right before her. Gwen looked everywhere- no danger. Well, a few dangers. She cautiously stopped a falling passerby, slowed a speeding car, tied a stranger's shoes, and a great deal more simple but thoughtful gestures. It did nothing to heal head, ear, or sense.

But her fears came and past, her school almost came and past before she realized it, and she was quickly distracted by another fear.

“Guess what day it is today?” Patricia asked. Gwen shook her head.

“No, I give up.”

“You didn’t even try! C’mon, one guess.”

“Mmm… the day Mr. Peterson is finally gonna commit to his alopecia and just go bald?” Her friend laughed, and gave her a light push on the shoulder.

“I’m serious!”

“So am I, there are only so many hats in the world that can cover up that sunk cost fallacy.”

“So you have no clue?”

“As clueless as Scooby Doo. Or Cher. Can I change my answer to Cher?”

“Honey, if you’re Cher I’ll get to be Tai.”

“Why Tai? Oh that rhymes!”

“Why Tai, why I always related to her untamable mass of curly hair, my Cheri.”

Gwen realized it was halfway through English and she still didn’t know what Patricia was talking about.

“I’m lost.”

“It’s not that hard Gwen, Mr. Morton is the subject of the sentence because-”

“No, what’s today?”

“One month.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah.”

“Still nothing.”

“Babe, I love you but you really are clueless.”

“What’re you gonna do with me?”

“Maybe throw you out in a box like a cat. Or, I guess a Jar would be more fitting.”

“Wha- oh. Haha, very funny.” She thought for a moment.

“Do the cat’s really get thrown out with a box? I thought they found it. Like a hermit crab.”

“Of course, otherwise it’s just a cruel thing to do, throwing out a cat.”

“Yeah, but they have a bad habit of getting back in. We used to have-”

“This cat named Mary who used to sneak into your house and-”

“We could never quite throw out- what don’t you know about me?”

“Nothing, now think.”

Gwen could only think of Patty throwing her out the window in a glass cup.

Maybe the shock would get her feeling right. She didn’t know if it was sleep deprivation, embarrassment, or some secret third thing that was keeping her from focusing, but it was driving her insane.

She loved Patricia, and she really wanted to do right by her and their relationship. But she knew they had been dating for almost a year at this point, so ‘one month’ didn’t quite make sense. If only this damn fog would leave her head!

And that creepy feeling down her spine, if she could help it. It’s terribly unhelpful to have a spider sense that’s always turned on. Like radar at a metal concert- useless. Absolutely and positively useless.

She took a hit of the dog that bit her between classes, a smooth, poppier song. It almost did the thing, but a tug on her shoulder stopped her and took her headphones before she had the chance.

“What, you avoiding me now?”

“W- No, never! I’m just… kinda out of it.”

“I’m busting your literal and proverbial balls babe. Go to the nurse, see if she can help. And keep thinking!”

Gwen was gonna refuse- super healing and all- but remembered an especially bad hit to the side of her head that knocked her vision out for a few seconds. And apparently some memory too- not good. That’s concussion territory, she thought.

Or not, she didn’t have a super good grasp on medical sciences, but she watched enough scary news stories with her dad about sports medicine to know concussions are common and quick killers.

Still nothing on the date front though. She thought about everything she did a month ago, everything she said. Only the foggiest came through, the rest a mystery.

“What seems to be the problem?”

“I, uh… fell pretty hard and I think I might have a concussion. So… could you check it out?”

The nurse laughed.

“Sure, Bren- is that right?” the nurse eyed her up and down, with a wary eye.

“Gwen, ma’am.”

“Well, Gwen, why do you think you have a concussion?” she said, pulling out a small flashlight.

“Follow my finger.”

“I just feel sorta odd,” she said, eye clinging to finger for dear life.

“Headache?”

“Yeah.”

“Nausea?”

“A little.”

“Confusion?”

“A lot- I mean, huh?”

“Funny girl- loss of consciousness?”

“Uh, when I first… fell?”

“For how long?”

“Oh, a few seconds.” Barely two, by her guess. Not enough for her to lose her footing in the fight, but just enough to distract her, let them get the slightest upper hand.

It was a big job, with some fancy weapons. Not street level crime, this was something bigger. She kept one for questioning, but…

Wait, what happened to him? Gwen was half convinced she let him sit there forever while she went home in a fugue state, but that didn’t seem to likely.

“Ringing in the ears?”

“No, but they’re sensitive.”

“Blurry vision?”

“No? I mean, I wear contacts.”

“Blurrier vision?” Gwen squinted.

“No.”

“Ok, anything else? You can quit following my finger now.” Gwen didn’t realize she followed it right into her coat pocket.

“Oh, sorry. I feel… on edge, I guess.”

“On edge?”

“Yeah. Tingly, frightful.”

“Anxious?”

“Yeah, that’s the word! Anxious- more anxious.”

The nurse walked back to her computer.

“Ok, you probably have a concussion.”

“Shit- I mean-”

“It’s fine. Did you drive here?”

“No, I’m a freshman.”

“Good. Call your dad and have him take you to the hospital.”

“Cool- can I go outside to make the call?”

“No, I don’t think you should honestly be doing any extraneous physical activity.”

Gwen made her phone call in complete view of the nurse, much to her chagrin. The Nurse didn’t even make an effort to turn away- in fact, it seemed like she was watching the detail with great detail!

Gwen did not like this Nurse.

Gwen almost toppled over Patricia.

“Oh, watch where- oh hey. Did you just swing into me? Do you have a concussion?”

“No time to explain- I need makeup wipes.”

Patricia did not look happy.

“I’d actually kind of like to know my if my girlfriend’s got a concussion, actually.” Gwen was taken aback.

“I- shit, I’m sorry, I’m just really in a rush and I’m in a hurry-”

“Spider-Woman shit?”

“Life shit! I finally have life shit again- P, I just need you to start rummaging for your makeup wipes and I’ll explain.”

“Fine,” Patricia said, swinging her bag around and digging through it.

“I totally do have a concussion and I’m super sorry that I don’t remember what day it is but I just snuck out of the nurse’s bathroom to find you because my dad’s about to pick me up and she made me take the phonecall in front of her, and-”

“Here-”

“I thought that would take longer-” Gwen said, grabbing them, before Patricia holds them back.

“And?”

“And? Oh, I love you?”

“Sure, hon. Love you too.”

They both ran to the bathroom and started taking the make up off, four sinks running to hide their chat.

“So what actually is it?”

“It’s your one month transiversary, hun! Or, one month of being out at school.”

“Wait, really? Shit, I had no idea. Do you keep like a… handbook on me at home or something?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“No, I actually kinda would. That’s sorta weird.”

“More of a scrapbook?”

“That’s sorta cute- how do I look?”

“Ready for a Proud Boys rally. Well, drop the wig. And the skirt. And the thigh highs. And the-”

“I get it, I need to change. I’ll be back.”

“Can I watch?” Patty joked from outside the stall.

“I’ll have to charge you!” Gwen said, rummaging through her purse, past her Spiderwoman costume from her morning swing, and pulling out her slacks and sneakers.

“How long do you have?”

“I don’t know, probably a good ten, fifteen minutes. I used a youtube compilation called Ten Hours of People Shititng Farting And Groaning.”

“Weird and gross.”

“Even weirder thing is I had it saved.”

“Ew, gross.”

“Yeah, but pretty clever. Bet you're proud of your ol gir-” when Gwen opened the door, Patty was holding a small colorful parcel, wrapped with ribbon.

“I- is this a gift?”

“Yeah. I was gonna do blue and pink but I figured that’s a lil sus, so it’s red and blue. Basically the same thing. I had to cut up an american flag wrapping paper to make it, so the lace has a few holes that were once stars.”

“Aww, I love a little rebellious flag code violation! This is so sweet Pats, you didn’t have to. Can I open it in the hospital.”

“Oh, not… here?”

“Well it’s been ten minutes so far, and I need time to swing back and find the right window. And honestly I think I probably shouldn’t even swing. Besides, it'll cheer me up, I hate hotel rooms. Sorry, is that not fine?”

“Uh, no. No, it’s totally cool, babe, I get it. I don’t want you to be depressed if you’re there for a while. Call me if you’re there past six and I’ll visit you.”

“Ok- thank you, for everything. I really mean it. I… I don’t know. I owe you something. A lot, really babe. I’m sorry this Spider-Woman thing is such a problem.”

“I get it. Great Power means Great Responsibility.”

“That’s beautiful. Is that from one of your poems?”

“A comic book I read.”

“Figures. See you. Love you,” she added at the end and ran away.

She wondered if she shouldn’t have said anything at all. She always had a bad habit of never knowing when to keep her damn mouth shut, and Spider-Woman only galvanized her wit and ego to dramatic parts. She rarely felt like herself, save for when she was Gwen. When she was with Patty. When she was happy.

She wanted to say all these things, run back into her and find her… but it was probably too late. She’d call her, at least. That’s the least that she could do.

Finding the window was quicker and easier than the run- Gwen’s head just did not let up. She wondered why her supposedly super healing wasn’t helping any. But the door was locked. She stumbled through the window, and sat for a moment composing herself upon the toilet, letting her head settle in the dark room.

But when Gwen stood and walked to the door, where the phone was so perfectly placed…

“Shit, I could’ve sworn I put it there.”

The door creaked open. The Nurse and Gwen’s dad were standing there. Gwen’s dad was holding her phone.

“And you just did, young lady. What’s that- fifteen dollars now?”

“I hate your swear jar.”

“And your hate is expressed in gentle and thought out ways. Why did you leave the room? Actually, how did you even get down?”

“Why did you guys even open the door? I was on the toilet!”

“Usually I make it a habit to respond when my students with brain trauma stop responding and start groaning. Also I didn’t understand why you were so obsessed with selling me Raid Shadow Legends.”

Curse that Autoplay.

To be continued

Chapter Two coming soon!

A Stunning Preview of this Story’s Action Packed Finale!

“What’s that?” Gwen had almost gone to sleep before Patricia’s voice woke her up.

“What?”

“That… blinking red thing?”

“Pat, it’s a hospital, there are a lot of blinking red things.”

“Not really. It’s like, a laser. I mean not really, but it’s super bright. See look, there’s a dot there on the wall.”

Sure enough, Gwen stared on the darkness past her girlfriend… and there was the red light. Blinking. Unmoving.

Gwen was just as paralyzed. She looked to Patricia and Patricia looked back, more frightened.

“What is that

“I don’t know, but whatever it is Gwen… it’s coming from you.”

[fablewritesnonsense]

Lost in the Commonwealth

Chapter 8: Goodneighbor

Brahmin meat was no New York strip, and you couldn’t quite cook the taste of radiation from the gourds, but after a week of stale potato chips and grilled rad roach, it tasted divine.

"Now, tell me if I'm prying," Hancock said after he inhaled his Bhramin, "But, how long has it been since you thawed out?" Bentley chewed thoughtfully, still only a few bites in. They checked the date on their pip boy to double check their math, and nodded.

"Two months, mostly spent time near Concord helping the Minutemen get back on their feet, then skirted Lexington to get here," they replied. Hancock gave a low whistle and shook his head.

"So you've just been on the go, huh?" He asked.

"I feel like if I sit still too long, I'll fall apart," they admitted. "It's…" they couldn't think of another word, so they let the unfinished sentence hang in the air. Hancock gave them a sad smile.

"If you don't mind me saying, sometimes we need to fall apart," he said. "Sometimes our pieces get scrambled up and we don't realize it. Can't fix it unless they're all over the place and we have to rebuild." Bentley smiled and sighed.

"MacCready said something similar to me earlier, a little less poetic, but all the same," they replied. Hancock chuckled.

"Broken clock's right four times a day," he said. Bentley laughed.

"Two times," they teased, taking a bite of gourd. Hancock pointed to himself.

"I'm the broken clock!" He barked, and Bentley laughed so hard they choked on their food. When they looked back up, he was grinning at them.

***

They sat on the couch in their hotel room, staring out the window, over the city streets as the triggermen patrolled and the residents drifted through.

If they squinted, it looked like the outside of their college dorm.

Dogmeat crawled into their lap and began whining, they wrapped their arms around him and buried their face in his fur. The sounds of Goodneighbor floated up to them, people laughing, cursing at each other, the ghouls talking about going to the Memory Den to relive their Pre-War days…

Everything washed over Bentley. Shaun and Nate, this hellish world she’d been thrust into, the feral ghouls that were just innocent bystanders, the human lives that they’d been forced to take for the safety of normal folks… It all washed over them until they began sobbing into Dogmeat’s coat. He huffed and wriggled into them, letting them have their moment.

***

They woke up on the couch, sore from their awkward sleeping position. Dogmeat had at some point left the couch and taken the bed without waking them up.

“Thanks boy, just leave me draped dramatically over the couch,” they muttered, and he yawned at them in response. They stretched out the worst of the knots before going downstairs and beginning to explore the settlement. The residents continued to give them sidelong looks as they walked around, making them feel as if they’d somehow become the freak among outcasts.

“Hey, Bentley, right?” said a familiar voice, and they turned to see the ghoul that had smiled at them the morning before leaning against a storefront.

“Uh, yeah,” they said, walking over, noting the sign above. “You must be Daisy.” She grinned and nodded as the door closed behind them.

“Sure am, how’re you holding up?” she asked gently, waving Bentley into the store.

“It’s… Bentley trailed off, not knowing what to say.

“I know,” she said, patting Bentley on the shoulder. “I’m a pre-war ghoul. I remember the old days, I remember the day the world fell apart.” She sighed and touched her face.

“I’m sorry,” Bentley said softly. Daisy chuckled and placed a hand on Bentley’s cheek, looking at her warmly.

“Oh sweetie, I’ve had two hundred years to get used to this shit,” she said. “If either of us should apologize, it’s me. I watched the Commonwealth fall apart and build itself back together as best it knew how, and I built myself back together with it. You went to sleep and woke up and here you are. And you’re still standing, that takes strength that I don’t know many people have.” Bentley felt tears begin to fall down their face, and Daisy scooped them into a warm hug.

“Now, don’t let anyone out there in Goodneighbor see you cry,” she said, rubbing circles on Bentley’s back. “They know it mean’s someone’s at a tough point, but not all of them are smart enough to know it also means you’re ready to tear a bastard’s throat out.” Bentley gave a wet laugh.

“That’s part of it,” they muttered. “It’s that killing has become so ingrained in the way of life here…” Daisy pulled away, nodding, and produced a somewhat clean rag to wipe the tears away.

“It is, but, unfortunately, that’s not changing anytime soon,” she said, chucking Bentley under the chin with a finger. “Just keep your head up. I hate to say it, but you’ll get used to this way of life soon enough. Just, do yourself a favor, and hold onto that little part deep inside you that mourns for their deaths. That’s the key to staying human.” Bentley smiled and nodded.

“I will, thanks,” they said.

“Now, let’s do something about that,” Daisy waved a hand at their clothes, and they realized that they were wearing the same dirty and grimy and blood soaked clothes they’d been wearing since they left Sanctuary two weeks ago.

“If you have clean clothes, I’m more than happy to pay,” Bentley said. Daisy snorted and waved her hand, going behind the counter and pulling out a stack of clothes.

“If you want more than fifty caps worth then sure, but our lovely Mayor ran over here yesterday after seeing you off and paid ahead for you to get some new clothes,” she said, a twinkle in her eye.

Bentley stopped, blinking rapidly as they processed this information.

“Why did he… is he going to expect something in return?” she asked, looking up. Daisy’s eyes were still twinkling and she gave Bentley a wry smile.

“Well, I wasn’t supposed to tell you that he paid for them,” she said. “Was just supposed to hand them over and say they were on the house.” Bentley frowned.

“I don’t…” Bentley looked down at the clothes and Daisy chuckled.

“If you don’t understand, I won’t ruin the surprise. See anything you like?”

Puzzling over that, Benltey pulled out a couple of outfits that would fit under their armor, and then a lovely long green dress.

“There’s no way I’m under fifty-” Bentley started, but Daisy put her hand over Bentley’s with that same sparkling smile.

“On the house, and there’s a bathroom just upstairs you can wash up in. I know Rexford slacks on those particular amenities. Go ahead, I want to see the look on Hancock’s face when he sees you all washed and wearing a dress,” Daisy said, pushing Bentley up stairs and into the bathroom.

***

Sure enough, when they came downstairs, red hair freshly washed and beginning to curl in strange directions, wearing the dress with the other clothes in her backpack, Mayor Hancock was downstairs talking with Daisy about supply chains.

He did about three takes before he realized who and what he was looking at.

“Holy shit,” He said, leaning on the counter as if for support. Farenheight, who leaned on the wall behind him, gave her an appreciative once over and wink. “Damn, you clean up good there, I almost didn’t recognize you without that layer of mutant blood.”

Bentley smiled softly and shrugged.

“Yeah, turns out there was a person under all that, who’d have thought?” she asked. Daisy winked at her while Hancock laughed. “Thanks for the clothes Daisy, I really feel human again. See you around.”

“Don’t go wasting that dress at the Rexford,” Daisy said as they made to leave. “Go hit up The Third Rail, have a drink or two. Live it up a little bit.”

“I will, thanks,” Bentley said, pushing back and walking away.

“Damn I’m good,” Daisy muttered as the door closed behind them.

Bentley strode through to the Rexford to drop off their things, and pay for another couple nights. And they had every intention of going to the Third Rail, but there was something that had been requiring their attention for a while.

So they made their way into the Memory Den, and looked around cautiously.

“Well hey there sweet cheeks,” Irma said fondly as they walked up. “Good to see you’re not suffering anymore.” Bentley gave half a smile and nodded.

“Thanks, and thank you so much for letting us use your services,” she said.

“Well, you were fucked up five ways to Sunday, I couldn’t well let you just sit there,” Irma laughed. “How can I help you?”

“Well, there’s a radio station airing for the Silver Shroud,” Bentley started. Irma’s eyes popped open.

“You’re here for Kent?” she asked, surprised.

“My… late husband and I would listen to the show when it aired,” Bentley said, struggling just a bit. “I just wanted to talk about the show.” Irma covered her heart and her eyes misted up a touch.

“Oh of course, he’s right there, through that door,” she said. “You take as long as you need, sweetheart.”

“Thanks, I really appreciate it,” Bentley said before walking over to pop their head in the door.

If you enjoyed this chapter, leave a like and a comment here, and also consider clicking on the header link to leave a kudo and comment on AO3! Maybe even bookmark it and subscribe to my account? You'll get notifications when I post updates!

Have a wonderful day!

[awesomefringey]

Hi Sabine- hope you are having a good day. I have a question about PR relationships. I’ve never really been a fully committed fan of anyone before I discovered 1D and Louis and Harry (except maybe in the early 90’s but that was pre-social media so different parameters) so I’ve never paid close enough attention to one person to follow along with them outside of regular mainstream news, and I gave up reading gossip mags about 20yrs ago when I realised they were mostly bullshit.

I’ll preface this with saying that I absolutely don’t believe Harry is in a relationship with Olivia. My question is surrounding the purpose of some of the ‘sightings’. I get the pap walks and the attendance at high media profile events like Coachella etc. as these make their way into the GP’s realm and assist with PR for both of them (and reinforce Harry’s closet) . I don’t understand the objective behind the side stage/ backstage presence and other more obscure sightings such as these? This seems like something only fans would pay attention to (sometimes the photos only come from fans in the crowd) and I don’t believe the PR is there to convince fans of anything as I don’t think either side of this fandom supports her.

Is this extra ‘togetherness’ outside of the organised for Media outlets pap stuff a normal aspect of a PR relationship? Usually I’m quite good as seeing the rationale behind general things we are shown in different aspects of the media etc. but I don’t see what purpose this serves- am I just being thick?

Hi nonnie, thank you for reaching out because I could ramble about this forever. But I think your guess would be as good as mine since we both share similar experiences around fandoms and observing PR strategies.

This is going to be long, so my apologies in advance. 💜

I think Holivia has huge issues with credibility and image. In the general public they’re far from the iconic Bennifer-fication. They are called a “strange couple” and depending on the POV people wonder why Harry is with her or the other way around.

It must be a great disappointment that even Harry's het fanbase doesn't buy into it and rejects Olivia. I think younger fans can’t identify with her because she’s so much older and Harry’s fans closer to her age are furious about her behavior while dragging her kids into it all and making a show of custody battles like it’s some trashy reality tv. (It’s not helping either that she’s got a long history of treating people poorly.) This all manifests itself in very weak Holivia UAs with like 8k followers at best, of which many only lurk to rant over what they see if we’re being honest.

My impression is that Full Stop planned to market Holivia as this woke ageism-breaking ‘newly single mum succeeding in Hollywood in a male dominated field proving 40 with kids is not the end for romance or beauty or indefinite freedom’ dating this ‘gender bending rockstar aspiring actor who sells nail polish and wears dresses and waves his ally-LGBTQ flags every night but is so so very straight and therefore an icon who ends toxic masculinity’ where brand endorsement deals can be used in double with access to two different target groups/demographics. Harry and Olivia both wear éliou pearl necklaces, Bode, Gucci, Vans, Pleasing, Harry merch. Even better when one wears what seemingly belongs to the other. So outrageous. 🙄

But what happened instead is that people only saw an odd couple with zero chemistry that got together under questionable circumstances (they were still filming DWD due to the delay from closing the set) with Harry as Olivia's subordinate, when she had JUST separated (or had she?), and Harry had only been booked for his second role… And all of it in the wake of Times Up and Me Too as if THIS were the New Hollywood... To me it was the dirtiest kick off for a Pro-mance I could have ever imagined. I hate that Harry is involved in this shit.

Maybe many don’t see it like I do, but to me who takes great pride in feminist values and has worked hard in my profession to overcome the “cute and pretty label” to be taken seriously and now being a team lead in a male dominated field myself, it triggers me to no end. A female in a position of power should never abuse it and call it feminist. Olivia Wilde doesn't bring change when she stands for the same toxic values and creates unsafe work environments that have existed all along.

Why am I pointing it out? Because that part, the beginning of it all is something they still try to make up for. The longer this lasts, the less it looks like a reckless work hook up and more like a super serious love story that needed to happen under any circumstances.

Coming back to your actual question and taking into account what I said above - Olivia hasn’t been offered any deals at all so far.

I'm not aware Olivia is in talks for any scripts to be directed by her. The documentary she planned to do was cancelled? It looks like promoting DWD is the only thing left on her agenda. She has a lot of time on her hands and she attempts to use it.

Their ‘organic sightings’ are being used for articles is the thing. Those fan pics of Harry bathing in Dublin were all over the tabloids. Random ‘Olivia at Coachella’ fan videos were used as well. Harry meeting a fan in South England made it into the press. Harry playing golf didn’t.

So pics from the back of Harry unenthusiastically holding Olivia’s hand in Dublin didn’t end up in the tabloids. So Harry kicked it up a notch and went for a swim in Dublin instead. LOL. I really believe that’s the part that’s unpredictable for their teams. They “offer” Holivia content here and there, walking and walking and walking, but what will be newsworthy is up to the tabloids. It’s an unreliable yet very cheap way of creating buzz and promotion. And Olivia looooves the attention and I’m sure she gets off on the idea that people envy her that she gets to be so close to Harry...

[theperfectlovestory]

You Are My Home

I DON'T OWN THE PICTURE

Information: This will probably have multiple parts but stand alone (?) I'm a bit nervous to post this cause this is a more personal uhh imagines 😂

Summary: It's been a long time since your friends saw you, a lot has change and you are in a better place in your life. Specially the relationship part

Pairings: Elizabeth Olsen x Reader

Theme: fluff

TW: none (?)

Word Count: 2,241

"Hey guys" you greeted, giving a small smile to your friends. It's been a long time since you all had the chance to talk together

Everyone has been busy and since you left your original city 2 years ago, the best you can do is chat with them once in a while

You are confident that the relationship with them is strong but you are sure many things have changed. But change is good, specially since you left with heavy heart and full of uncertainty

Right now you are in a good position in your life, and everyone is free, or at least made sure to make time. But still, the best you can do is video call for now

After 2 years this is the first time you've seen everyone. While they keep in touch and get together once in a while. You just were too far, both physically and mentally

"Hey, long time no see" Steve teased and you chuckled

"Damn you look good" Natasha commented "been taking care of yourself, I see"

You made a face and nodded "happy now I finally hit the gym like you always nag me to?" She chuckled

"Hey, just want you healthy"

"I know, thank you. Your voice is actually what pushed me in training" you leaned on the table, placing your cheeks on your knuckles "I can just hear you berating me for being so weak"

Everyone chuckled, agreeing that she does do that

"But in all seriousness, you look happy" Bucky complimented

Sighing, you nodded, finally at the position in your life where you can actually see yourself having a bright future

"I am, finally got my shit together, mostly at least"

The topic then transferred to your other friends, enjoying their presence even just from the screen. Laughing together just like the old times

"(Y/n)?" You turn your head to the voice, your girlfriend, Elizabeth calling for you coming from the second floor

"Darling, I'm in the dining" you answered and immediately heard footsteps

Without looking at the screen of your laptop, she smiled, excitedly tilt your head by your chin, kissing you deeply

Every one of your friends are stunned. Of course, you never showed them any public display, not like you had the chance anyway since you never really pursued anyone for years you were with them and now here you are kissing Elizabeth Olsen

Very famous actress, part of big filming companies, a producer as well

"Damn (Y/n)..." Natasha whispered and you laughed when Lizzie finally realized you were actually on a video call

"Oh no, sorry baby" she said wiping your mouth and hers with her sleeves, you shake your head to stop her

"You're fine, or not. But Lizzie, meet my friends" you gestured on the screen and Lizzie shyly waved at them. Blush dusting her cheeks as she pursed her lips into a decent smile. Your taste still lingering on her mouth

They said a quick hi to be polite then suddenly spoke all at once berating you for not telling them you are dating "the Elizabeth Olsen". The actress, the girl of your dreams

Then it was your turn to blush when Bucky mentioned that she's the reason you never had any interest in other people. She was just too 'shiny' to you, the other just seemed dull

Elizabeth looked at you with new found love in her eyes as you got bullied by your friends. She can't help but give you a quick kiss on the cheek before apologizing for interrupting your moment with them again

"Oh no, you did not interrupt at all. We probably wouldn't even know she's dating if you didn't come" Tony said and everyone told him to shut up

"It's not like how it sounds, Ms. Olsen. (Y/n) is very proud of you, she just really doesn't like speaking about her relationships" Peter explained and Elizabeth chuckled

"Oh I know, that's why we are not in public anyway" she patted your head "but it's okay. I don't want to drag her in the mess of Hollywood so if you can just keep all this between us" she gave everyone a small smile and they either shrugged or nodded

"No problem" Natasha answered "I'll make sure these idiots don't slip up"

Elizabeth gave them a big smile before she left to get breakfast. Once she is gone though they started attacking you with questions again

"Fine fine" you sighed, finally giving up "we met a few months after I left, I applied to the Marvel Studio as set decorator. I was fixing up the set the night before with a bunch of my coworkers so the shooting will proceed with ease. I'm usually just there at night so when she came looking for her phone, which I actually picked up and was planning to give to the lost and found before leaving, they pointed her to me. I gave it to her, she thanked me and that was it'' you shrugged

"Then how did you two got together"

Pursing your lips, knowing they wouldn't stop anyway you told them

It was the wrap up of the filming for Endgame. The biggest movie you will ever work with if you are honest

A bunch of A-listers are there and a lot of demands have to be met so for the first time, the whole movie you had to be in and out of the sets. You barely slept or ate in the past few months. You apartment even collected dust since all you did there is go home, take a shower, then go out

You mostly slept on set. By the end of the filming your body is screaming for rest. But you kept going anyway. This project is a very big deal for you, specially you lead the look of the set. anything that needs to be changed, moved, removed, added to the set goes through you

So basically, all day you stand in front of the set, watching the designers work their magics and you requesting changes, assessing the atmosphere in pre production and etc. and at night, clean up and set up is a bitch

One morning you were so tired you wanted to pass out there and then when Elizabeth enter the area. She was shooting all her parts today that can be soloed

You tried to keep yourself awake and alert to anything and everything so when you noticed an uneven ramp and props that she will unfortunately stepped on, your body started running before your mind can comprehend what's happening

She let out a squeal when she broke her ankle and fall but before she hit the ground and risk further injuries on her wrist that is sure to break her fall, you were catching her

But your body felt so weak that instead of staying up right, she fell on you. At least she wasn't hurt at any part of her body but you were, you hit your head on impact but it was minor

If ever, it only made you dizzy

She stood up and you did as well. You rubbed your hand on your face, ordering staffs to re-arrange and clean up the set so no more obstacle can cause accidents

You didn't even dare look at her eyes knowing those green orbs will suck your life out of you. You asked her if she's okay, also apologizing for the dangerous set up. It was overlooked that she would be indeed walking in heels, boots but heels nevertheless

"It's fine, I'm fine" she said, smiling but her eyes are full of worry "are you though? You hit your head when you broke my fall" she said, even unconsciously touching it

"Uh yeah..." you awkwardly smiled at her "it doesn't hurt, thanks" you then slowly back away. When the props have been arrange, the shooting started but your body felt so weak you had to call your assistant to cover for you

You went to the area where you always rested and slept. You were out for almost 2 hours when a cough woke you up. You sat up, rubbing your eyes and ask what they need without even looking at them

"I...brought you food, and coffee" your head snapped, looking at the voice you only dream of talking . She had a small and awkward smile and shy look in her eyes directed to you

"I was looking for you where you usually stand but noticed you weren't there" she explained, your face obviously gave your confusion away "I wanted to thank you again, the stunt director said that if it weren't for you, I would most likely break my wrist in that fall"

You slowly nodded, giving her a small smile "well, it was our fault for not triple checking the set"

"No no, please don't do that, accidents happen, I'm just here to thank you. It was me being clumsy too" You look at her with newfound admiration, a firm believer of 'never meet your idol, it will disappoint you'. But it wasn't the case with her at all

You are aware of the rumors that she's actually very kind, down to earth and serious with her job. It's a good rumor considering she is well known and if you are honest, you know deep in your heart it is true, but you never get your hopes up high

If only you met in a different circumstance, maybe you would think of trying to flirt a little but you know your place. This is a work situation and you need to be as professional as you can be. She is still an actress after all, you need to respect her space

It doesn't mean that she is being kind to you, it's an invitation to step into that space of hers. So you muster the most professional smile you can

"Well thanks, it's really no problem" you said with indifference and if you are actually not too much in your head, you will see her frown with the change of tone

She then handed you the food and the coffee "I'd actually like to talk more again sometimes" she said, swallowing the tightness in her throat "maybe for a coffee?"

The invitation did wonders in your body. Your heart is just beating a tad bit faster, your stomach filled with butterflies, your cheeks turning red. All the cliché reactions you can feel, it's there but then you moved and you groaned, your body sore from over work

You were so sure you wanted to say yes, but your body clearly wanted to say no. After this shooting, you just want to drop dead in your apartment and maybe wake up 3 months after

"I'm just so tired recently, I will be no fun" you chuckled, exhaustion dripping on every syllable "but hey, maybe a few weeks after the filming is done, if you are still up for it?"

The sadness of rejection from earlier was turned into a big grin. Her excitement sparkled on her eyes "sure, I'd give you my number then"

You nodded and gave her your phone. She didn't even have to ask for a password because you never put one in. It's easier since you give your phone to your assistants all the time to contact people for updates on props shipments and other business related matter

She excitedly tapped her number, saving it as 'Scarlet Witch' and that made you giggle. Using her screen name that's not even canon yet

"Okay, Scarlet Witch, I'll call you when I finally get some well deserve hibernation, then maybe I'll be more fun to talk to than a usual" She laughed and nodded and you are so sure you can never be more in love with her voice

She then said a few more things before leaving you to rest. You thanked her again for the food and coffee before she disappeared

"I can't believe you almost rejected her" Steve said wide eyed "she's like, your dream woman"

"Oh I can" Natasha said "(Y/n) doesn't hit uncertain, have you ever played with her on anything? All her hits are aces!"

"But it's like the chance of a lifetime!"

"Yeah! That's why you make sure you attack when you know it will hit!"

The two started bickering and you all just watched, laughing at their same old antics. Elizabeth then walk to your side, offering you a fruit bowl for breakfast, you thanked her and then invited her to seat besides you and she did, you kissed her off camera

"What was that?" She chuckled but tried to catch your lips again when you pulled away, you giggled at her pouty face

"Nothing, just suddenly can't believe I'm actually dating you" she sighed, giving you a small smile

"You might think that you're the lucky one but it's actually me" she said, pressing a hand on your cheeks and squeezing it lightly "you make my life whole, (Y/n), you filled the space in my heart where money or popularity cannot"

"And you picked up and fixed my broken pieces" you countered, leaning on her hand that's now just slowly rubbing your cheeks

"I guess we are both lucky then"

"Yeah"

Your eyes both glint the same way. Feeling like you finally found where you belong, in each other. You are home

[lampmeeting]

D for Charles/Magnus, I for Magnus/Toki, L for Charles/Pickles, and F for Melm/JT.

eeehEHEHEHE DILF *rubs my little hands together* don't mind if i do~

D for Drunken Love Confession - Charles/Magnus

pre-klok. :') magnus has been chipping away at charles' resolve. there's just something about the bookish, put-together little chuck offdensen that makes magnus wanna break through all his defenses and see him come undone. he always did like a challenge. they have heated, passionate debates about the direction of the band. they get in each other's faces. magnus even kissed him once, but charles pushed him away, furious and blushing, and demanded he leave his office.

after six months of this weirdly charged back-and-forth they have, the band invites charles to come drinking with them to celebrate pickles' birthday. charles declines, concerned they're just inviting him to come because they want someone else to play designated driver. but magnus intervenes like "nah i'm driving tonight, promise. so go nuts." and charles seems to think it over... and eventually agrees.

so they all go out! at first charles seems to be pacing himself, but pickles gets shots, and it's all downhill from there. magnus, staying dutifully sober, watches the rest of the band + charles get sloppy and silly, not minding in the slightest the way charles leans against him a little in the booth and touches him when he laughs. he starts to regret not getting drunk himself, but he'd promised charles. it's enough just to see charles' mask slip, albeit not quite in the way magnus wanted. but he'll take it for now.

at the end of the night, magnus drops the band off at the apartment and then continues on to charles' place. he pulls up, and charles tries to get out of the car, but stumbles and falls. he's a lot more fucked up than magnus suspected. magnus helps him to the door, but charles seriously looks like he's about to black out, so he takes him inside, cleans him up a little, and puts him to bed (on his side, in the recovery position, he knows the drill). before he leaves, he can't help himself... he runs fingers through charles' sweaty hair and strokes his jaw. charles opens his eyes, seeming surprised that magnus is still there, and then... he smiles at him. a genuine smile. and as his eyes close again, he whispers something that freezes magnus in place.

"...mmfm...mmlove you..."

"...what?"

but charles is under again, and magnus leaves in a panic. charles doesn't, can't, have feeling for him. that's too much. magnus just wanted some fun, right? maybe get charles worked up enough for an angry fuck. but...love?

magnus can't sleep. the next time magnus sees charles, charles pulls him aside. "i apologize that you had to babysit me like that the other night. i can't exactly recall everything that happened, so if i said or did anything, ah...embarrassing, i'm very sorry."

so charles doesn't remember what he said. or he does and he's just trying to save face. magnus should be relieved about this, but for some reason his heart feels suddenly sore...

"oh, yeah, no...you were out like a light. don't worry about it."

--

I for "Idiots in Love" - Toki/Magnus

post-post-galaktikon. weirdly enough i'd probably write this from like nathan's pov or something. he's having everyone over to the house for some reason, maybe a holiday or his daughter's first birthday or something (her cool uncles wouldn't dream of missing it). this means..... rrugghhgh magnus is coming over. it's the first time he's interacted with magnus since pickles and charles' wedding, so maybe a good couple years, and he's not looking forward to it.

everyone arrives. toki and magnus are the last to show up, and nathan has to do a double-take because this is SO not magnus. half his hair is back in a ponytail, he's let his beard grow in some, and he's wearing a sweater?? and he's smiling? he genuinely seems happy to see nathan, gives him a hug, says a warm hello to abby.

over the course of the afternoon nathan has to keep looking at him and reminding himself that's magnus fucking hammersmith because he's just so... animated? friendly? he's sitting next to toki and they're holding hands, and when others are talking the two of them are making eyes at each other and cuddling and laughing at little things they seem to be sharing between themselves. they're being a couple of absolute goofballs together, and honestly it's a bit sickening to watch. is magnus just faking this?

at some point nathan excuses himself to the kitchen for something, and while he's in there he's joined by magnus, considerably more subdued.

"sorry, man, i just...i thought maybe we could talk for a sec."

so they talk. they catch up a little. nathan learns magnus has been hitting the therapy especially hard over the past year, making some meaningful strides. it's not an act, he's genuinely happier now. or at least trying to be.

"i mean, you know how it is, nate, right? doesn't abby make you wanna be better just because she exists and she loves you?"

okay, nathan can understand that. he still doesn't understand... them. but it really seems like magnus has turned a corner, which... good for him, he supposes. as long as he's treating toki well.

when they return to the party, nathan watches magnus sit back down with toki and give him a kiss like he'd been gone all month, and they giggle to themselves again. this time, it seems...all right.

--

L for "Love at First Sight" - Charles/Pickles

i'm gonna flip the script here!! i've already done the whole "charles sees pickles on stage and goes gaga for him" twice now... so i'd pull away from the 80s and do a fic where they actually did meet for the first time in the mid-90s when pickles was in dethklok.

so they've got their shitty original manager (the one from doomstar) still, and he's just not pulling his weight. he's managing a few other bands and his heart isn't in dethklok the way it used to be. pickles is worried they're stagnating, and when he learns that it's been magnus lately making sure they get booked, that's the last straw. they all come together, and they tell the dude to fuck off. but then this leaves them without a manager. magnus offers, but pickles has already been wary about how possessive magnus seems about the band recently, so when pickles says no the rest of them vote the same.

pickles blows through his old contacts looking to dig up some manager from his past who can either wants to manage dethklok or has connections to someone else. no dice. skwisgaar comes up with no one. magnus is still trying to campaign for himself. shit gets dire when somehow seth finds out dethklok is lacking management and leaves pickles a voicemail offering his "valuable fuckin' services". pickles blows his fucking top, swearing and screaming. "HOW HARD IS IT TO FIND ONE GUY CAPABLE OF MANAGING A FUCKIN' BAND??"

the doorbell rings, and pickles, still raging, throws it open.

"WHAT??"

"ahh!"

it's just... a dude. like a normal-ass dude. glasses. a nice dress shirt and slacks. nice hair. handsome. he's nervous as shit, but that almost makes him more handsome.

"i, ah...i-i was told that van on the street belongs to, ah...to someone here? i clipped the, ah, the bumper. just a little. but it's noticeable."

anger forgotten, pickles just... stares at him. are his eyes green or brown? and that jawline...

the man shifts his weight just a bit, peeking into the apartment with wide, curious eyes. "sorry, that, ah... that's quite the drum kit."

"huh?" pickles looks back at it and steps inside, and the man follows as if he's simply meant to be there. "oh, yeah, thanks. you play?"

"hardly. a small jazz kit in college for a friend's music project but it, ah, obviously didn't go anywhere." the man glances around and seems to realize that he's just waltzed inside. "right, ah, so about the van--" he pulls out his card. charles f. offdensen of finch & associates. an honest-to-god lawyer. huh. so he's a smart guy. good-looking to boot. knows a bit about music, apparently. and he's looking to make things right about hitting the van...

pickles smiles, hearts in his eyes. "ya like metal, charlie?"

--

F for "Fake Dating" - Melmord/Twinkletits

aaahahah... okay. so, this would be when melm is living with john as part of his continued therapy. a few months pass, and they've actually become good friends, melm thinks, not just therapist and patient. it's nice living there with john.

and then, john gets a call from his ex-wife, joy. she's in town, and she wants to come over for dinner one night before she leaves. the only thing is, she's got her new fiance in tow. she and john ended on pretty mutual terms, so there's really no bitterness there, but even so, john knows it's going to be an unpleasant evening. and then there's the question of what to do about melmord.

"you can just stuff me in a back room and pretend i don't exist. i'll be real quiet."

"absolutely not, you've been watching too many sitcoms."

"excuse you, that's jane eyre."

john just doesn't exactly know how to approach explaining melmord's presence in the house. because he knows joy, and joy will ask.

"tell her i'm a friend who needed a place to crash?"

"joy knows i don't do friends anymore."

ouch go melm's feelings.

"well, uh... you could just tell her the truth? that i'm your patient and i live with you?"

john pulls a face. "absolutely not."

in a flash of sitcom inspiration, melm snaps his fingers. "i got it! i'm your boyfriend! we'll pretend to date!"

"pretend to--?? mel, honey, no. okay? i understand you're trying to help, but--"

"but what? what's your brilliant idea, doc?"

cut to john introducing melmord to his ex-wife.

"and this is my... well, he's uh, my boyfriend actually. my boyfriend melmord."

melm is all smiles as he leans in and takes joy's hand. "please, just call me mel."

and then of course at the end of a long night, joy and her fiance leave, and john and melm pat each other on the back for a job well done. they really gave it their all, put on a convincing performance full of long embraces and doting glances and romantic touches. neither of them really want to talk about how easily it came to them, and how unwilling they both are to bring it to an end.

"well, uhh... good night, then." john chuckles. "darling."

"yeah, haha, sleep good, uh... sugarbear."

they laugh. they're standing in the hall laughing. they should really move apart from each other and go to their respective rooms if they're going to sleep, but they're not moving. and they're still laughing. and now melmord is touching john's shirt, fingering a button, and john has a hand on melm's hip...

"maybe," melm says quietly, "we can just pretend for, like... a little longer?"

[flyingkiki]

A Very Merry Christmas (1/4)

I've been working on this since December last year, in hopes of giving you a steamy Christmas. But life, anxiety, and the shitstorm of 2020 came in the way. But either way, I worked through this, got all chapters ready for some regular steamy #TimRae goodness. I'll post regularly so all chapters will be out soon. Enjoy this first steamy TimRae nugget, my loves!

Notes: Messed around with ages and timelines. I like Tim and Raven in a more adult setting, past their teenage years. Doesn’t strictly follow any universe, rather a mix of this and that. They're adults and Damian is still a pre-teen kid.

Part Two of my Vanilla Series. Because Tim is a k!nky boi, and we know it. Here's Part 1: Flavor: Vanilla.

~

Chapter 1

“How many estates does the Wayne family have?”

As they were driving up the icy road, Raven warily eyed the large house decked in a thick blanket of snow. When Tim mentioned they’d be spending Christmas week at the family vacation home, she certainly did not expect another mansion in the outskirts of Gotham, tucked away by a range of trees and lush snowy forest cover. She thought of a cottage by the forest – not an 8-bedroom and 10-bathroom monstrosity of a home. Raven blinked and looked out the window. Was that a tennis court she just saw?

“There are a few,” Tim chuckled and they neared his childhood home. He eyed the home fondly and shot Raven a brief smile. “This one is Bruce’s favorite. We spend a lot of holidays and summers here,”

Hard to imagine that in between all the vigilante and business work, and all the dysfunctional family disasters and ill-managed feelings, the Wayne’s somehow were still able to spend some time together as a family. Raven had quickly learned after the rift between Tim and the rest of the family with losing and finding Bruce in the time stream, and all the tension between all the siblings for one reason or another, Bruce (or likely Alfred) had made it more of a habit for the family to gather whenever possible. Over the years as they have grown older, old wounds have somewhat healed. Somewhat.

“I cannot picture Bruce Wayne as the fishing-by-the-lake kind of father,” Raven mumbled, absently eyeing the snowy white trees whizzing past them.

“He likes to take Damian the lake when the brat is out of school during summers,”

Raven hummed in acknowledgement and watched as they finally approached a security gate. They’ve been driving for hours and it came to a relief that she’d be finally be able to stretch her legs. But the idea of finally, officially, meeting the Wayne family “outside of work” unsettled her. Worry loomed in the pit of her stomach as they drove up the driveway of the large house made of intricate stonework, impossibly large windows, and aged wood. She inhaled softly, staring at the home muted by the thick blanket of snow. It was beautiful.

“Who drives a motorcycle in the middle of winter?” Raven frowned when they drove past a large motorcycle covered in snow carefully parked next to pine trees.

“Jason,” said Tim as they finally came to a stop under the car shed next to Bruce’s Bugatti. Who drives a Bugatti in the middle of a cold wave? Raven eyed the car.

“We’re here,” Tim announced. A blanket of silence dropped over them with only the soft noise of the engine filling the air, Tim allowed Raven to process their arrival. He watched as she stared out the car window, taking in the snowy garden.

After the Killer Croc incident and the discovery of the rather embarrassingly ill-placed hickey, the entire family assumed that he was seeing someone. For a period, Jason had been talking non-stop about Tim’s sex life (“Dude, you are a kinky piece of shit.”) and Bruce had dropped invitations to holiday and gala dinners, which Raven remained hesitant to attend. After a year of postponing dinners, they did finally decide to attend this Christmas getaway after Alfred told Tim “It would be nice to finally meet your partner, Master Tim. I would like to meet and thank her for taking care of you, my boy. It would be wonderful to get to know her,” he said. And that was that. No one declines Alfred.

It was a miracle that they kept the relationship under wraps for over a year now. Tim understood Raven’s need for privacy and her hesitation to meet Bruce. Some wounds still ran deep, no matter how long ago their first encounter was. The thought still left a bad taste in his mouth, the idea of a young Raven being turned down by the Justice League. He knew that there was still bad blood between her and Zatanna while Clark tried his best to make up for their hasty decisions over her. He watched Raven inhale softly and fiddle with one of the silver rings on her left finger. “Hey,” he said softly and reached out to touch her hand. Deep blue eyes stared back at him and he cracked a soft smile. “All good?”

Raven returned the small smile and tilted her head just a little bit. “You think very loudly,” she said and adjusted her hand in his so they could hold hands. Years ago, she’d shy away from this kind of contact. It was strange how time has changed her. She watched Tim’s smile brighten and she released a nervous breath she was holding. “Yeah, I’m good,”

Tim gave her hand an encouraging squeezing. “We don’t have to do this, you know?”

“I know,” Raven replied. “But I guess now is a good time as any,”

He gave her hand another encouraging squeeze. “It’s not like they don’t know you anyway,”

Raven snorted ungracefully and rolled her eyes. “I’ve spent more time with everyone in that house in masks and Kevlar than unmasked. I’m thrilled to see everyone in their silk PJs,” she said dryly.

“I guess now’s the best time to meet everybody unmasked,” Tim told her. He released her hand and turned to shut the engine. He turned back to her and smiled, grabbing her arm and gently tugging her towards him. He pressed a long kiss against her lips. “C’mon. Let’s go inside,”

They stepped out of Tim’s warm car and into the biting cold. It was mid-afternoon and it was already slowly getting dark, and everything was becoming colder. Raven made a face and pulled the grey bonnet over her ears and joined Tim by the trunk. They pulled out their duffle bags and slowly trekked towards the front doors of the mansion (calling the monstrosity of a house a cottage in the woods would seem insulting). Raven eyed the house in awe and apprehension.

Hurrying up the wooden stairs and stomping off the snow from their boots by the worn mat, Tim fished out his keys from his pants. Throwing her a curious look, he slid the silver key into the lock. “Ready?”

Raven made a face and her eyes momentarily slid towards one of the frosted windows, seeing warm light past the heavy curtains. “Not really,”

“Raven,” Tim breathed, eyes widening, and his hand stilled.

Raven rolled her eyes and gently nudged his shoulder. “I’m kidding. C’mon, I’m freezing, and I need to pee,” she whispered teasingly.

“Tease,” Tim grinned at her gasp as his cold nose pressed against her cheek for a quick peck. Turning back to the door, he unlocked it and quickly opened the heavy front door. As they entered the welcome warmth of the foyer, they were greeted by the familiar movie soundtrack of the Grinch. Removing their coats and leaving their bags for later, Tim led Raven towards the living room. “We’re here!” he announced.

“Timbo, in here!” They heard Dick from the other room over the noise of the Grinch followed by low muttering and scuffling. “Sit up, Jason! Don’t embarrass us in front of his girlfriend!”

“Don’t get your panties in a bunch, Dickface,”

“Hey guys,” Tim entered the large living room and found his whole family scattered across the ridiculously large leather sofa and carpeted floor. He felt Raven hesitate beside him before appearing next to him and Tim snorted at the collective response of shock and surprise from everyone.

“Hey Timbers – oh my fuck.”

“Master Jason, language!”

“Raven?!”

In hindsight, perhaps it was a bad idea for her to just join the family for their Christmas weekend as every single member of the Wayne family openly stared at Raven and Tim. Raven inhaled softly and took a step back as she felt the onslaught of emotions. She watched the open surprise cross Bruce face, and she quickly averted her gaze to Dick, who gaped at her like a fish. Yep, definitely not a good idea. An uncomfortable feeling settled in the pit of her stomach as she felt out of place.

“Raven,”

She turned to Bruce again and she blinked as the man rose from his seat on the sofa, a rather ugly throw blanket slipping from his thighs. She quirked a nervous smile and breathed. “Hi,” she said. Blinking, she waved lamely. “I brought wine?”

“You and Tim?” Dick blinked, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. How did his second-in-command start dating his younger brother? How did he even miss this? “How? When?” Dick blinked lamely. “Huh?”

“Raven!” a small lithe bundle of a soft green Christmas sweater bounded towards the couple and hugged Raven. “It’s you!”

“Hi Cass,” Raven chuckled and hugged the younger woman. Over Cass’s shoulder she and Tim exchanged small smiles. Raven always had a soft spot for Tim’s sister. Cass turned in Raven’s arms and eyed Tim with a playful look and nudged his shoulder. “You kept secret!”

“Sorry,” Tim laughed and waved his hands in defense.

“Perhaps Miss Raven and Master Tim would like to freshen up a bit before we have some afternoon tea? Or hot chocolate. I’d think that would be a great idea, don’t you think?” Alfred said this with an air of finality as he stood up and briefly glanced at his wards before turning to the couple and smiling kindly at them. “It’s wonderful to see you again, Miss Raven.”

“Thanks, Alfred.” Raven smiled, tension leaving her shoulders. She pulled away from Cass and the girls gently squeezed hands.

Tim cleared his throat at the collective surprise still in the room. Bouncing on his heels, he turned to Raven. “Okay. Bathroom?” Raven nodded, relief flooding her face at the chance to escape the awkward introductions. Turning back to his flustered family, he rolled his eyes and absently took Raven’s hand. “We’ll be back. You guys get it together,” he told them before turning on his heels and gently tugging Raven back to the foyer.

Leaving the surprised family in the living room (“You guys better not get handsy up there” “Jasssssonn!”), Tim and Raven picked up their bags and made it to Tim’s old bedroom. Raven raised an eyebrow in amusement at the sight of old band posters on the wall.

“Bathroom’s over there,” Tim pointed toward the door in the corner that led to the private bathroom. Raven hummed in acknowledgement, still keyed up from all the emotions downstairs.

After puttering around in the bathroom and washing her face, Raven emerged from the rather ridiculously luxurious personal bathroom (she was definitely going to take a long, hot bath and put up some scented candles in there) and found Tim absently tinkering with an old laptop on his desk. Ignoring Tim, she walked around his old bedroom, taking in old books lined in a bookshelf. Finding some curious titles, she thought she might want to check out for later. She smiled and picked up an old Superman action figure. She moved to the wall that held a few of Tim’s old photographs. An old gritty photograph of Gotham Tower with the Bat Symbol illuminated behind it hung in the middle of an array of landscape photos.

“I took that when I was 9,” Tim said, joining her by the wall and pulling the old action figure of Clark out of her hands. They shared a smile as he waved Superman’s arms around lamely before dropping it back on the shelf.

“You haven’t done photography for some time,” Raven commented.

“Been busy. You know, saving Gotham, running a company, staying alive,” Tim smiled and watched as Raven quirked her lips in response. He watched her move around his old room in curiosity, taking in old trinkets and photos, eyeing books and posters, and smiling fondly at old memorabilia. He felt a warmth spread inside of him as he watched Raven, in her oversized grey kitten sweater, study parts of his old life. While life as a Wayne (and a Drake) was beyond messy, he realized that this – the sight of Raven gently pressed against the large windows of his old room watching snow gently fall into the garden – was something he wanted Raven to be a part of in his life and share more with her – mess and everything.

Raven looked over the shoulder, offering a rare smile at the gentle press of his warm emotions. “You’re on vacation now. Maybe we can walk around and take some photos,” she said. She watched Tim join her by the window and wrap an arm around her waist. He offered her a gentle smile. “I’d like that.”

“So,” Tim breathed, a warm lilt in his voice as he looked at her. “What do you think so far?”

Raven tilted her head and hummed. “Do you think they’d mind if I just spend my entire time here in this room?” she asked teasingly.

Tim laughed and squeezed her hip. Pressing a kiss to her cheek, her held her close and allowed his hand to slip underneath her sweater for another gentle squeeze. “As much as I’d like to keep you in my childhood bedroom, I don’t think Alfred would approve.” He mumbled into her hair.

Raven hummed and shifted in his arms, she looked over his shoulders at his ridiculously large bed and back up at him with a teasing glint in her eyes. “But there is so much we could do in here,” she said.

Tim laughed softly and pulled her closer to him, relishing the soft press of her against him. “Oh, believe me, I have plans for you,” he said against her cheek and grinned at her soft chuckle. He gave her hip a teasing squeeze before kissing her fully on the lips. He had missed her; they had not seen each other the last few weeks because of her off-earth mission. He had every intention of making sure they made up for lost time in his old bedroom.

Raven hummed against his lips before pulling away, a small smile playing on her lips. “Such loud dirty thoughts, Tim Wayne” she teased and gently nudged him away. Rolling her eyes at the guilty chuckle, she stepped out of his arms and brushed her hair back with her hands. “Do you think we should go back downstairs?”

“Yeah, let’s. I promise you that Alfred’s hot chocolate is to die for,” Tim said while leading her out of the bedroom.

If the rich chocolate smell was any indication, Alfred’s hot chocolate smelled divine. Raven blinked, trying to come to terms of the domesticity of the entire scene in front of her – Bruce Wayne, Batman, in comfortable house slippers and a grey sweater that probably cost more than what she made each month, carrying a tray of sugar cookies into the sitting room. The rest of his brood were gathered around a glass coffee table, with steaming porcelain mugs in their hands.

Cass perked up around her mug at the sight of Raven and Tim entering the room. She waved them over from where she sat curled up next to the table within easy reach of the cookies that Bruce just deposited on the table. “Come, sit!”

Bruce’s raised his eyebrows at the couple and he straightened. He looked at Tim for a brief moment before locking eyes with Raven. It momentarily startled him to see the woman in front of him, out of her uniform, a much older version of that young girl he had met so many years ago begging for their help. The memory unsettled him for a moment, a shift of emotions he was sure Raven caught as her head tilted just a fraction of an inch and she blinked. He smiled instead and placed the cookie tray on the table as she and Tim approach the group.

“Hi, Bruce,” Raven greeted Bruce, barely catching his mix of emotions and she smiled lightly up at the older man.

“Hello, Raven. It’s nice to have you with us.” Bruce eyes shift to towards Tim and he quirked an amused eyebrow. “It’s quite a Christmas surprise,”

“A rather pleasant one, if I may add,” pipped in Alfred as he appeared with a tray of more mugs of hot chocolate. He and Raven exchanged smiles. Raven always liked Alfred.

“Sit,” Cass grabbed Raven’s hand and tugged her towards the coffee table, obviously thrilled to have a girl in the house to spend time with. Raven smiled and allowed herself to be tugged to the floor next to Cass. She shared a quick amused glance at Tim before turning to the younger woman as she pressed a hot mug of chocolate into her hands. “Drink.”

“Thanks,” Raven smiled and folded her legs underneath her. The hot chocolate smelled delicious and the heat of the mug warmed her cold hands. She felt some of her tension slowly melt away.

“Why didn’t I know about you two!” Dick exclaimed from his perch on the loveseat. He sent hurt looks to both Raven and Tim. His blue eyes widened in realization. “So that’s where you run off to sometimes. You said you’re going to a museum!”

“To be fair, I did,” said Raven, sending Dick an amused look before taking a tentative sip of the hot chocolate. It was delicious. She hummed in approval and shared a small smile with Cass.

“Just with me most of the time,” Tim grinned at Dick after gabbing one of the mugs from the table and plopping down into the large sofa he shared with Bruce.

“Soooo,” Jason announced sounding terribly smug from where he was sprawled out over an overstuffed armchair. He lolled his head towards Raven and his green eyes shone with mischief. “It was you who gave Timbers that crotch hickey.”

“Jason!”

Dick coughed loudly into hot chocolate, chocking on one too many marshmallows. He did not need to know that. “Jason, damn it!”

“Language, boys!” Bruce sighed loudly and watched as Jason grinned smugly at Raven, their houseguest – Tim’s secret girlfriend. And thanks to Jason’s not so gentle reminder, said culprit of Tim’s large hickey he had the misfortune of seeing many months ago. He sunk into his seat in the sofa and mentally groaned at the terrible mental image. He really did not want anything to do with his sons’ sex lives. They were all adults, but still – Bruce sighed.

Of course. Trust Jason Todd to bring up sex. Ignoring Tim’s embarrassment and the heat that crept up her cheeks, Raven narrowed her eyes and stared back at an amused Jason waiting for her answer. “Yes.”

“Raven!” Dick whined.

Jason cackled and hot chocolate dangerously sloshed around in his expensive porcelain mug. “I like her!”

Bruce sighed and took another long drink of Alfred’s hot chocolate. He needed sugar. Thank god Damian was out walking Titus, he definitely did not need his 13-year-old son to hear about Tim’s sex life. Or hearing it confirmed by Raven.

As if on cue, the front door opened and Damian announced his arrival. There was quiet shuffling in the background and a distinct bark before the Damian’s monstrosity of a dog came bounding into the room followed by his youngest son. Damian blinked in confusion at the sight of Raven talking to Cass, obviously wondering what the Titan was doing here. Titus on the other hand stood at attention at the sight of the newcomer and barked briefly at Raven, gaining her attention, before lying down a few feet away from her and watching her cautiously with a loud whine.

“Is there a mission?” asked Damian, eyeing Raven quizzically before turning to Dick and then to Bruce.

Jason snorted and swung his socked feet over the armrest. Taking a rather dangerous sip of his hot chocolate from his precarious position on the armchair, he grinned in amusement at the little brat. “Please meet Timmy’s girlfriend,” he said dramatically, theatrically waiving at Raven with his mug.

Damian eyes widened briefly before shooting Tim a quick glance and turning to a mildly amused Raven. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he told her dryly.

“Hey!”

Raven chuckled softly. She shared an amused smile with an indignant Tim before turning back to an unfazed Damian. He stared at her for a moment, unsure what to do. They had rarely interacted outside of missions, the boy had held her at arm’s length at times – probably because of whatever knowledge he had of her from his grandfather and the League. Though she wouldn’t blame him, she’d hold herself at arm’s length too. She titled her head, the corner of her lips quirking slightly as she sensed the young boy’s unsure emotions. “It’s nice to see you again, Damian,” she said.

Damian blinked. His gaze shifted back to Tim, who was watching him intently. Turning back to Raven, he stiffly nodded. “Welcome to our home,” he replied automatically.

“Such an exciting welcome wagon you are,” Jason said dryly, shooting the short boy a teasing smirk while helping himself to another mug of hot chocolate.

“Dami have some hot chocolate,” Dick beckoned Damian towards the coffee table as he heaped another healthy spoonful of marshmallows into his mug. Raven always wondered how Dick’s sugar levels seemed to do so well during Cyborg’s annual physicals.

While Damian busied himself in pouring his own mug, Dick looked curiously at Raven and Tim, watching in astonishment as Raven handed over her phone for Tim to keep as she sat cross-legged on the floor next to Cass. He watched Tim stuff the device into his pocket and Dick blinked – it was so odd to see Raven allow such simple intimate acts around her. When Gar tried to even touch her phone, he would be blasted off the roof. He pulled himself out of his reverie as Damian unceremoniously plopped down next to him and Dick nearly spilled his drink. Catching Raven’s eyes, Dick smiled brightly, and pressed on with their earlier conversation. “So, when did this start?” he asked.

“Oh,” Tim breathed. He watched as Raven looked over her shoulder to catch his stare. Turning back to Dick, he tapped his mug thoughtfully, wondering just how much they should get into detail. “Remember that mission in Lisbon?” he asked.

Dick’s eyebrows furrowed remembering the Titan’s mission of taking on that inter-galactic firearm smuggling ring led by Slade. There was a lot of fighting, shooting, and blood. They had Red Robin join to help Cyborg hack into the several space stations and track local smuggling movements. His eyes widened at he stared at Tim. “What? That was over a year ago. I was there. You two got into arguments!” he accused. He turned to Raven with a bewildered look, feeling utterly confused. “You said his plan was, I quote, ‘fiery hot mess’ and he was stupid beyond belief.” Jason released a bark of laughter in the background.

Raven shrugged dismissively. “It was. He is.”

“No, reckless. The word was reckless.” Tim tutted.

Raven rolled her eyes. “And still stupid. You got shot.”

“Still took down the entire operation.” Tim grinned and they shared a small private smile. Turning back to Dick, he offered an easy shrug, as if everything explained for itself. “Asked Raven out on a date once we all got back and recovered from blood loss.”

Dick gaped at them, still thoroughly confused. “That was 18 months ago. How? All this time –?”

Damian sighed loudly looking rather bored. “Your detective skills are rather disappointing, Richard, if you failed to take notice for the last 18 months,” he said. Dick made a disgruntled sound next to him.

“I’m happy!” Cass announced nudging Raven and the two shared a smile. Raven felt herself relax, as an easy conversation fell on the group and everyone continued to tease Dick for his terrible situational awareness skills. She chuckled at a joke Jason threw at Dick and looked over at Bruce, who remained quiet throughout most of the conversation. She caught his eye briefly and felt whatever tension that was left in her leave as the two shared a rather brief smile.

Dinner was a chaotic affair as promised with Jason and Damian, and on occasion Tim, getting into arguments and Dick trying to placate the situation. Though it was not like Raven was not used to the chaos, after living with Victor and Garfield, and Jinx, for so long. Tim had agreed that he and Raven would help Alfred in his baking tomorrow. When Cass was not busy talking to Raven, she’d endlessly tease Tim or Jason for one thing or the other. Bruce looked over his children occasionally trying to break up arguments or admonish Jason for his cursing. It was a surprising sight, to see this different side of Batman, and it threw Raven into a loop. It was admittedly nice, despite her initial apprehensions, to meet everyone outside of their Kevlar and masks.

“So?” asked Tim later that evening as he appeared from the bathroom barefoot in nothing but his sweatpants. Raven looked up from reading an old philosophy book. She watched Tim towel his wet hair as he approached the bed. Closing the book, she allowed a small smile to play on her lips as she watched him approach, appreciating as the defined muscles rippled with each movement. Tim’s work with his bo staff does wonders – not that it was something she’d openly admit. She caught his amused emotions as he sat down on his side of the bed, catching her stare. “What do you think of today?” he asked her, reaching out and affectionately squeezing her calf.

“It was alright,” Raven replied, placing the book on the bedside table. She turned to Tim and watched him haphazardly throw his used towel onto the nearby office chair. “I’ll pick it up, I promise,” he chuckled as she rolled her eyes. Tim turned off his bedside lamp, engulfing them in the soft light from Raven’s lamp. Climbing into bed next to her, he turned to his side and propped his head on his left hand. “Was it?” he probed.

Raven sighed and sunk into bed next to him. She looked up at him as Tim gently brushed some of her hair behind her ear. “It’s different,” she admitted. “I’m still getting used to the idea of seeing Batman in Armani lounge wear.” Tim snorted ungracefully. “It’ll take some time adjusting to all these emotions from everyone. But it’s nice to meet your family outside of work. Thank you for you bringing me here to meet them,” she told him.

“I’m glad you’re here. I’d like to share this with you. It’s a bit messy and chaotic, but it’s family. I’m happy you’re here,” said Tim gently. He offered her a small smile and grabbed her left hand and gave it a soft squeeze. “I’m sorry if everything is a bit overwhelming. We can always go home when you want to,”

“I know. Thank you.” Raven replied and tugged Tim towards her, allowing him into her space and wrapped his arms around her. She did not realize her emotions were so keyed up until now. Her emotions settled at the familiar press of Tim’s body and the warm press of his emotions against hers. She felt one of his hands slip under her camisole and fingers fanned against the small of her back. She sighed contently and melted into the embrace. She felt a mumbled “I love you” and a kiss against her forehead and she smiled, fingers curling around Tim’s bicep. She hummed and pressed forward, clumsily kissing Tim on the cheek. “I love you too,” she whispered, a little breathless. It often amazed her as she found herself saying these words, three words she thought she’d never say intimately to anyone. Strange how Tim seemed to have easily settled into her life.

They stayed like that for a few minutes, silently relishing the intimate moment between them. Raven quickly learned into the relationship how much Tim enjoyed giving and receiving affection, a result from his own demons of the past. Giving affection so openly was something she gradually learned to do over time. Tim had a way of helping her learn and grow over the year.

She felt Tim shift and before she could acknowledge his change of emotions, she yelped softly as his leg slipped between hers and his foot brushed against her own. “Cold feet!” Raven gasped, trying to jerk her feet away as Tim wrapped his feet around her and pulled her against his chuckling chest.

“Share some body heat,” Tim chuckled against her hair and his legs held her own in place. He shifted again, enjoying the gentle press of her curves against him. Slipping his thigh just a little bit higher between her legs, he smiled as Raven shifted towards him, her thigh brushing against his own.

“I know what you’re doing,” there was an amused lilt in her voice. She could feel the hard press of him against her hip and she canted her hips just a little bit to brush against him. Raven hummed at Tim’s soft sigh.

“I know that there’s a no powers rule in this house,” Tim mumbled and his hand slipped over the curve of her ass and gently squeezed. He heard Raven hum against his chest. He felt her lean up and kiss the hallow of his neck. He bit back a groan as Raven shifted, deliberately brushing up against him. He squeezed her tightly, amused at her teasing. “But,” he breathed and leaned down to kiss her cheek. “Do you think you could cast a silencing spell in this room or something?”

“Oh?” Raven breathed, look up at Tim in amusement. Her eyes danced in delight as nimble fingers slid under her shirt again and traced her spine. “What for?”

“Well,” whispered Tim and nudged her up to get her face closer to his. He grinned impishly at her amused face and briefly tipped forward to languidly kiss her, relishing the needy press of her lips and tongue against his own. Pulling away, he chuckled at the soft whine of protest and leaned forward to briefly kiss the crook of her neck before leaning into her ear. “I really don’t want anyone in this house to hear what’s about to happen in my childhood bedroom,”

An excited thrill ran down her back and Raven felt heat pool low in her stomach. “Oh?” she whispered catching the wolfish smile on Tim’s lips. She draped her right hand over Tim’s bare shoulder as he turned and pressed her into the mattress. Her fingers tingled with magic, spell ready at her fingertips, as she teasingly traced a protruding scar on his deltoid. “What’s going to happen?”

Tim clucked his tongue catching the teasing glint in her eyes. “I’ll have to show you then.”

Raven just had about enough sense and time to release the spell from her fingertips just as Tim’s fingers easily slipped underneath her pajama bottoms and inter sleek, hot heat. Legs spreading instantly, back arching, and jaw dropping at the delicious friction, Raven gasped loudly.

“TIM!”

Raven released a breathy gasp as fingers moved slowly into her. The rhythm slick wet noise of Tim’s fingers driving into her at a steady pace had heat pooling low in her abdomen and her legs quivered in anticipation. His fingers steadily increased their speed, drawing out long whines and soft moans from her.

Despite the cool Christmas air, she felt her skin warm as heat shot through her body. She felt Tim’s heady press of desire as he kissed the pulse point of her neck and teeth gently scraped against her sensitive skin. Raven whimpered as she felt him push and prod against the bundle of nerves, her hips gently thrusting against his fingers chasing for release. She felt herself so close to tumbling over the edge.

“Shhh,” Tim whispered teasingly, hooded eyes drinking in her undone state. Nipping the underside of her chin, he listened to her release another breathy whimper as he continued his steady ministration into her sleek heat. Over her gasps and groans, he could hear the wet sounds of his fingers pumping into her. His cock twitched in anticipation. “The others might hear you,” he teased, watching as she gasped and bucked into his hand. They were lucky she cast the silencing spell as Raven whimpered and fluttered around his fingers, release just a few strokes away.

“Please,” Raven herself tumbling towards the edge as her body quivered and she greedily devoured Tim’s lust and desires press into her. She whimpered as she felt him kiss her collar bone before pulling the strap of her camisole down to expose her right breast. She gasped and groaned as his tongue flittered around her nipple before teeth and tongue eagerly engulfed the sensitive bud.

With a nip to her nipple and a few more fast, measured thrusts of his fingers, Tim watched as Raven released a strangled cry and came totally undone. Drawing out her orgasm, his fingers curled and pumped into her fluttering heat, helping her tumble down the cliff.

Raven’s back arched off their bed as her world exploded and she continued to buck into Tim’s hand, riding out the high and soaring through an explosion of colors and sounds. She gasped and whimpered, fingers curling into his bicep to help ground her and gain some control.

Their movements slowed and Tim pressed a warm kiss against her cheek, watching as Raven slowly returned from her high. Pulling his fingers out of her, he watched as Raven whimpered and writhed at the loss of contact.

“Fuck,” Raven breathed, as her senses returned, and she lazily lolled her head towards Tim watching him pull his fingers out of her. Tim hummed thoughtfully, his gaze dropping from her rumpled pajama bottoms to his soaked fingers before licking her sticky juices from his fingers. Raven released another whimper as desire and heat seemed to flare low in her abdomen again as she watched him eagerly lap up her cum from his fingers. Fucking hell, the thought of their total debauchery in her Wayne manor a distant memory.

Pausing with his careful licking, Tim hummed and smiled at her. Drinking in her disheveled look, he leaned over her again and relished the beautiful release of pressing his straining cock against her hip. Rocking into her, Tim pressed a kiss onto her cheek. “We should have a Kinky Christmas,” he whispered and teasingly hooked his fingers into her pajama bottoms and underwear, nudging them down slowly.

Raven released a breathy laugh but found herself nodding. She felt Tim tug her pajama bottoms off her with a few more tugs and pulls of hands and feet. “Give Jason more things to tease us about?”

Tim clucked and chuckled, pressing another kiss into the hallow of her neck and listening to her breathy intake of breath. He quickly removed his own pants, sighing as his member sprang free and brushed against her thigh. “We got the silencing spell up,” he said while pushing her legs apart and settling in between them. They groaned as his member brushed against her core. “This will be our little Kinky Christmas celebration,”

Raven hummed, hands draping over his shoulders as she eagerly rocked into his hips in anticipation. The room was stifling, and she wanted so, so much more. Drinking in his heated stare, Raven gave him languid smile, and spread her legs just a little bit more.

“Then let the festivities begin,”

[danijimenezv]

Amiga! These questions are bit different:

Not Yet Wed Questions

Note: Great Scott! This week, we are going back in time to MC’s intern year. Think of Ethan’s relationship with them at this point and answer the following questions accordingly. It is entirely up to you when in year 1 this takes place (pre/post Miami, pre/post CH 15, etc). Feel free to answer with dialogue or pictures or both :) Have fun!

No worries. All of this is off the record and HR will never know!

The setting for this answers is:

For Both

When I first saw them, I thought__________

What is your coworker's most used swear word?

Quick: What color are their eyes?

Three people at work your coworker hates?

What is your coworker’s strangest or most endearing quirk?

If they had a crush on anyone at work, who would that be?

(Bonus round! Feel free to skip.)

Never have I Ever:

come into work hungover

had a fistfight

been kicked out of a bar

gotten a tattoo

broken someone’s heart

been in love

For MC (Ethan is not there)

Where do you see him in five years (both professionally and in his personal life?)

What do you find the most impressive about him?

Last thing he texted you?

If he asked you out on a date, what would you say?

For Ethan (MC is not there)

Where do you see him in five years (both professionally and in his personal life?)

What specifically do you find attractive about her?

Last thing she texted you?

If she asked you out on a date, how would you respond?

Amiga these are genius dksaldnafjcsajd I am in love with this! The angst and longing from Book 1 is just delicious

Not Yet Wed Questions

The setting for this answers is: Post Miami, but before he quit.

For Both

When I first saw them, I thought __________

Jill: Wow.

Ethan: Care to clarify?

Jill: *blushes* Well, the first time I saw you was taking control of a medical emergency. It was amazing, and I was a bit awestruck. Of course, right after that, I thought that you were a handsome asshole.

Ethan: Of course.

Jill: …You’re not answering?

Ethan: I don’t feel like answering.

Jill: Okay, that’s either really good or really bad.

Ethan: You’re going to let it get to your head.

Jill: Really? Well now I’m intrigued. Do tell, Dr. Ramsey.

Ethan: I thought you were proficient.

Jill: Proficient? Seriously?

Ethan: You were just an intern on your first day, and you still jumped into action when a woman needed help. It was… not what I expected.

Jill: *grins smugly* So you were just as awestruck, is that what you’re saying?

Ethan: That’s not what I said.

Jill: It’s what I heard.

Ethan: I knew you would let it get to your head.

What is your coworker's most used swear word?

Both: Fuck. *laugh*

Jill: Dr. Ramsey doesn’t regularly curse out loud, instead you can see the intention written all over his face. But I have caught him saying “fuck” a few times.

Ethan: On the other hand, Dr. Valentine curses like a sailor. Even for the smallest of things, you can hear her whispering “fuck” under her breath.

Jill: He also uses “goddammit” and “Christ” a lot.

Ethan: And when it’s not a situation, but a person, she uses “fucker”.

Quick: What color are their eyes?

Jill: Deep blue.

Ethan: Whiskey.

Jill: You know, I feel honored to be compared to whiskey. I know how much you value it.

Ethan: *stutters and blushes* What? I-I don’t… It wasn’t like that.

Jill: *smirks* Suuuuure.

Three people at work your coworker hates?

Jill: That’s a hard one.

Ethan: You’re exaggerating.

Jill: I’m not. You hate a lot of people.

Ethan: Hate is an overdramatic word.

Jill: Well, okay, then you strongly dislike a lot of people.

Ethan: Closer.

Jill: Does Nash count as coworker now that he has a deal with the team?

Ethan: Unfortunately.

Jill: Okay, so first Nash, and then in no particular order Dr. Cyrus, Dr. Wen, Dr. Toussaint…

Ethan: Those are more than three.

Jill: And I can keep going. Dr. Mirrielees, Dr. Rosario… June? I don’t know her personally, but I heard you complain about her the other day, so…

Ethan: Eavesdropping again, were you?

Jill: Never, just passing by and paying attention to my surroundings, like a good diagnostician should.

Ethan: Right. You forgot yourself.

Jill: Uh-uh, you don’t fool me. I’m possibly one of the few interns you tolerate.

Ethan: *sighs but doesn’t deny it* Round it up, Rookie. No point stretching out the answer.

Jill: Okay, fine. I guess mainly Nash, Cyrus, and Wen. And also probably some intern, or a handful of them. Not including me, obviously.

Ethan: Hrm, I think the most annoying of them is your partner on the Knoblauch case. The squirmy one.

Jill: Landry? Really? I admit he can get a bit annoying at times, but he’s just really nervous around you.

Ethan: Well, I don’t like him.

Jill: Your turn to answer.

Ethan: I would go with Nash as well, but other than that, I don’t think you hate any other coworker. Dr. Valentine seems to get along with everyone, it’s… disconcerting.

Jill: It’s called being a people person. But I do find Dr. Cyrus and Dr. Lozoya irritating. Don’t tell them, though.

Ethan: I do believe, however, that I made it to that list at some point.

Jill: What makes you say that?

Ethan: Your impertinence and constant point to defy me.

Jill: I defy you because I can. That doesn’t mean I hate you.

*Ethan is stunned into silence*

What is your coworker’s strangest or most endearing quirk?

Ethan: She sometimes snorts when she laughs.

Jill: Oh my God, you’ve heard that?!

Ethan: What’s wrong with that?

Jill: That’s not endearing, that’s embarrassing!

Ethan: She also scrunches up her nose or bites her lip when she’s too focused on something. It’s cute.

Jill: *stares at him with wide eyes* You think I’m cute?

Ethan: I think your quirks are cute.

Jill: Right… Dr. Ramsey places a finger on his temple, either when he’s deep in thought or when he’s fighting the urge to strangle someone, usually an intern. He also pinches the bridge of his nose a lot, especially when he’s annoyed.

If they had a crush on anyone at work, who would that be?

*They stare at each other pointedly, and then look away, blushing.*

Jill: *clears her throat* I don’t do crushes.

Ethan: *raises an eyebrow in challenge* Lahela?

Jill: Not a crush.

Ethan: Then what was he, exactly?

Jill: Friend with benefits.

Ethan: *chokes up* Christ…

Jill: Well, you asked!

Ethan: Is he still?

Jill: No, not anymore. Not since before… you know…

Ethan: Ah… *looks away*

Jill: Anyway… I would say your crush is probably Chief Emery. Or, well, me.

Ethan: *in a warning tone* Jillian.

Jill: What? Bree said this was off the record. Someone has to acknowledge what happened, and you’re clearly not going to, so might as well be me.

*Ethan looks down regretfully*

Never have I ever

Jill: Ohhh, I love this game! And look, we even got paddles with I have/I have never.

Ethan: What are we, in high school?

Jill: Would you rather do it with drinks? During work hours?

Ethan: *sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose* Let’s get this over with.

Jill: Knew it.

come into work hungover

*Both raise the ‘I have never’ paddle.*

Ethan: I admit, I was not expecting that.

Jill: You just have to think the worse of me always, don’t you?

Ethan: Speaking as someone that saw you party up at Donahue’s the night after your first shift, yes.

Jill: Okay, fair, but I have an advantage over the rest of people.

Ethan: Which is?

Jill: Genetically speaking, the Valentines don’t get hangovers.

Ethan: You say that now because you’re young.

Jill: My brother is not, and he still doesn’t know what having a hangover is like. And we’ve obviously tried it out.

Ethan: Okay, I’ll concede. That’s an unfair advantage.

*Jill grins widely and winks*

had a fistfight

*Ethan lifts the ‘I have never’ paddle*

Jill: Liar. You told me you punched Nash.

Ethan: For it to be a fight, the counterpart has to actually throw a punch as well. Nash never got the chance.

Jill: Okay, then I never have either.

Ethan: *blinks in surprise* You’ve punched someone?

Jill: A kid at school bullied my little sister once.

Ethan: Once?

Jill: Yes. I gave him a black eye, and he never dared to say anything else about Ivy.

Ethan: How heroic.

Jill: *shrugs* My sister was mortified, as the delicate princess she is, but I think it was worth it.

Ethan: It’s a little hard to imagine, given your height.

Jill: The smallest are always the feistiest ones. We’re like Chihuahuas.

been kicked out of a bar

*The two of them raise the ‘I have’ paddle*

Jill: You?

Ethan: A friend of mine from med school got a little carried away. What about you?

Jill: I was busted with a fake I.D.

Ethan: You went to a bar when you were underage?

Jill: Does it make it better if I say I wasn’t drinking?

Ethan: Why else would you go to a bar?

Jill: It was initiation week at Léman Prep.

Ethan: *blinks several times in confusion* I’ll pretend to know what you’re talking about.

Jill: Well, you know how high school was like. If I hadn’t done that, they would’ve eaten me alive. It was survival 101.

Ethan: What happened afterwards?

Jill: I made the headlines, and my grandparents had to pay a shit ton of money and pull a lot of strings to bury the scandal. And I got the biggest lecture and grounding of my life.

gotten a tattoo

*Both show the ‘I have never’ paddle*

Ethan: It’s not my thing.

Jill: Neither is mine.

broken someone’s heart

Jill: I have. My older sister nicknamed me ‘heartbreaker’ during my high school years.

Ethan: And you say this proudly?

Jill: I’m not proud of it, I’m just saying it how it is. I’ve always been clear with people about what I want and what I don’t. I don’t lead them on with false promises, but a few of them tried to change my mind, unsuccessfully.

Ethan: Well, I don’t think I have.

*Ethan lifts the ‘I have never’ paddle. Immediately, Jillian takes it from him and switches it for the ‘I have’ paddle. She doesn’t say anything else, just looks away, pained, and Ethan just stares at her aghast.*

been in love

*Both choose the ‘I have never’*

Ethan: I don’t believe in being in love.

Jill: I do, but I don’t think it’s for me. I had to watch my older sister almost lose herself from the heartbreak it brought her, and I don’t want that…

For Jillian (Ethan is not there)

Where do you see him in five years (both professionally and in his personal life?)

Jill: Professionally speaking, I see him still at Edenbrook, running the diagnostics team. He’s really committed to the team’s vision, helping those who have nowhere else to go. Probably with a new book out and a lot more of research published as well. He’s brilliant like that. Personally… I think he’s too self-sabotaging to actually achieve something in that area. Although, I don’t rule out the possibility of Dr. Ramsey rekindling his romance with Chief Emery. I’ve seen the way they look at each other, and I’m no idiot, something is still there… Either way, I do hope he finds someone that makes him happy. He’s a great man, and he certainly deserves it.

What do you find the most impressive about him?

Jill: I want to say his intelligence, but it’s actually his heart. Underneath all that grumpiness and mean remarks, he actually has a heart of gold, so full of compassion. He cares so much about his patients, and even about interns under his supervision. He goes out of his way for them, and that tells a lot about the kind of man he is.

Last thing he texted you?

Jill: “Dr. Valentine, the results we were waiting on are out. Please make your way to my office. I need another perspective, in case I missed something.” Always so formal.

If he asked you out on a date, what would you say?

Jill: *chuckles bitterly* He wouldn’t… ask me out, I mean. Ethan is a man with a serious black and white view of the world, including his moral stand. I already tried to climb the walls he set around himself, and I ended up falling flat on my ass. So I don’t think it would ever happen. If, miraculously, he hit his head, forgot about his current dilemma and asked me out on a date… I’d say yes, in a heartbeat. But I don’t think that’s in the cards.

For Ethan (Jillian is not there)

Where do you see her in five years (both professionally and in her personal life?)

Ethan: Professionally, I see Dr. Valentine surpassing just about any doctor. She’s one of the brightest minds I’ve seen, so it wouldn’t be hard to picture her becoming a big name in medicine. I hope she’ll be in the Diagnostics Team at Edenbrook, but she could land anywhere and still have a successful career, wherever she’ll go. Probably with a book written and research published, maybe even winning awards. She’s that great. Personally, still close with her friends. On the romantic front, I’m not sure… From what I’ve seen, Jillian is not one to settle down. I’ve seen her rejecting good relationship prospects without so much as a second glance, and I’ve heard around that she doesn’t want to commit to anyone… which is good for her, because that means she won’t allow her personal life to interfere with her professional success. Though, I do wish she finds someone that makes her happy, someone worthy of her, that can give her everything she wants and deserves. I hope she finds exactly what she’s looking for.

What specifically do you find attractive about her?

Ethan: She’s not listening, is she…? *runs a hand over his face in frustration* I know I’m not supposed to, but I find everything about her attractive, from her physical looks to her intelligence, ambition and compassion. But mainly, I think it would be her charm. I know most men would say the same thing, it’s her signature, but the way she carries herself with confidence and charisma, without truly realizing the effect she has on everyone else… She’s witty and flirty, and warm, and… just herself.

Last thing she texted you?

Ethan: “I doubt you missed anything, but I’ll be right there.”

If she asked you out on a date, how would you respond?

Ethan: I know for a fact that she wouldn’t ask that. Like I said before, Jillian Valentine is not one to date. Off the record and hypothetically speaking, if our situation was different, I would say yes, without a doubt. Even if I don’t deserve her, even if I’m not worthy of her, I know she’s an incredible woman, and I’d be lucky if she decided she wanted to be with me. But I know better, that’s all hypothetical. In reality, she’s still an intern, running for a spot in my team. Not only would it be unethical and inappropriate, but it also would be damaging to her career and her reputation. She’s worked too hard to get exactly where she is, and I care too much about her to hurt her like that, so it’d be a no.

Tags: @jamespotterthefirst, @takeharryandgo, @aestheticartsx, @choicesfanaf, @fireycookie, @liaromancewriter, @trappedinfanfiction, @tsrookie, @genevievemd, @lucy-268, @writinghereandthere, @queencarb, @gryffindordaughterofathena, @ohchoices, @anntoldst0ries, @bluebellot, @schnitzelbutterfingers, @mysticaurathings, @iemcpbchoices, @itsjustamesshonestly, @shanzay44, @lsdw-blog, @heauxplesslydevoted, @starryeyedrookie, @casey-v​, @mercury84choices, @chaoticchopshopheart, @quixoticdreamer16

[amylillian22]

Quarantine - Chris Evans Smut Imagine

Word Count: 2,384

Warnings: Smut. Sex.

Author’s Note: This is my first Chris Evans smut. I’m NOT very good at writing smut. So, if it’s shit, don’t tell me. I already know, ha. 

[Quarantine - Part 2]

Chris closed the door to his house, panting as he took off Dodger’s leash from his collar. Dodger quickly made his way to his water bowl, lapping up the cool liquid. Wanting some cold water himself, he walked to his kitchen. He stopped in his tracks when he saw Y/N laying down on the hardwood floors in the middle of the kitchen.

Y/N was renting the house next door to Chris for the past year. When the US government ordered a shut down and stay-at-home order, Y/N didn’t know where to go as her lease was already up and the contract for her place fell through due to the pandemic.

Lucky for her, Chris offered her to stay with him. He had an extra spare bedroom that could be hers for as long she wanted to stay. Plus, he didn’t want to be home alone under quarantine when his family was back in Boston.

Now six months later, she’s laying on the floor completely frustrated by everything and everyone. She was mad no one seemed to know how to follow simple and basic rules that would have prevented the virus from spreading and would have shorten this quarantine. She missed going out with her friends and seeing her entire family on holidays. More importantly, she missed sex.

“What are you doing?” Chris asked.

Y/N sighed over dramatically. “I’m bored and frustrated.”

Chris grabbed a water bottle from the fridge. Nearly chugging the entire bottle before sitting down next to her on the floor. He playfully slapped her thigh - which sent a tingle all over her body - before laying down next to her.

“What has you so frustrated?” He asked.

“Everything.”

Chris rolled his eyes before he turned to face her. “Everything can’t make you frustrated.”

She turned to look at him. “You’re still panting so hard from your run and that’s fucking annoying.”

I imagine that’s how you would sound while riding your hard dick, she thought to herself.

She closed her eyes and groaned to herself, knowing she couldn’t help it. If she wasn’t so damn tired of her sex toys, she would be out on a Tinder date right now. Except, she couldn’t. She wouldn’t take a chance like that during a pandemic where so many people were dying from COVID-19.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “My heart rate will slow down in a bit. This helps,” he closed his eyes, getting ready to meditate.

“I’m sorry,” he peeked an eye open to look at her. “I didn’t mean to snap at you. I’m just really frustrated.”

He closed his eyes and smirked, “the same way I’ve been really frustrated and why I’ve been running or walking with Dodger 3 times a day?”

Her eyes flew wide open as she gasped. She turned to face him, seeing that devilish smirk on his handsome face.

They’re just friends. They’ve never shown an interest in each other as something more, but maybe, given the current situation, maybe they can be something a bit more. Like friends with benefits.

“You’re sexually frustrated too?” She asked.

“Yup,” he popped the ‘p’ with his lips, causing her to wonder what his lips could do on her naked body.

She bit her lip and pulled her legs together. “How long as it been for you?”

“Too long.”

She didn’t know how long it was for him, but for her, it was New Years Eve. She had drunken, slutty sex with a guy she met at some Hollywood Star house party Chris invited her to. She knew Chris was one of the biggest actors, but that’s not why she was friends with him. She didn’t care about how much money he was making or the A-list friends he had in his phone contacts. She loved how loyal, kindhearted, and honest he was with her. She was a bit on the wild side and Chris was someone who made her want to get her shit together. She wanted to be a good person like him. He brought that out in her.

Now knowing he was just as sexually frustrated as she was, she was wondering if he would be on board for something friends with benefits do.

She stared at his lips, they were slightly parted as he still had his eyes closed. She wondered if his lips would part like that while he cums. Her mind began to wonder how his lips would feel against every inch of her body, sucking... licking... biting...

She immediately sat up and straddled Chris hips. His eyes widen and his body jerked up at the quick unexpected action. He held her gaze as her fingers began walking up his chest as she spoke, “I have an idea... a dirty one.”

Chris smirked as he sat up. His lips grazed her lips and whispered in a deep, seductive voice, “And exactly how dirty is it?”

She grabbed his white shirt and ripped it in half, exposing his fantastic abs. Her fingertips traced his muscles. She traced her bottom lip before tucking it between her teeth. She lowered her core and slowly started moving her hips in circles.

“You ripped my shirt,” his hands gripped her hips.

“You gonna punish me?” She challenged.

“Get up.” He commanded.

“What?” She asked, immediately stopping her hips. She pulled her hands away from him, completely confused. She thought he would want this as badly as she did.

“We have to go to my room. We can’t have sex out here with Dodger loose in the house.”

She grinned at him before getting up. He led the way to his master bedroom. He opened the door and let her in first. He closed it behind him and locked it, knowing Dodger would pull the door handle if it wasn’t.

Chris turned on his heel, only to be pressed up against the door. Y/N wasted no time and kissed him, hard and hungrily. Chris hands landed on her butt. She moaned against his mouth as he caressed her ass. Chris took the opportunity to deepen the kiss and slip his tongue. She gasped in his mouth as he slapped her butt cheek.

She pulled back from and shook her head. “You think you’re the one in charge tonight?”

“This is my master bedroom,” he challenged.

She stared into his dark, lust filled blue eyes, before she smirked. She leaned in, giving Chris the impression she was going to kiss him. Instead, she grabbed his cheeks tight between her hand. It was a huge turn on for Chris.

“That’s cute,” she whispered against his lips. She playfully bit his bottom lip before she let go. Her hands immediately went to the hem of his shorts and pulled them down. Her mouth watered as she saw the outline of his hard dick, waiting to be sprung free from his underwear.

She fell down to her knees and looked up at Chris as she pulled down his underwear to his ankles. She licked her lips before licking his tip, soft and slow, almost kitten like. The small action made Chris groaned and rolled his head back.

“Look at me,” she said. He did as he was told. She stuck her tongue out and licked his balls, before slowly moving up his long, hard, thick dick. She gave him a wicked grin before she slowly took him in her mouth, feeling his tip touch the back of her throat.

“Fuck,” Chris growled as she moaned long and loud, causing the vibrations to ripple all over Chris body. She hollowed out her cheeks as she slowly pulled back, and made a pop sound as her lips left his tip. She wrapped her hand around his dick, her thumb circling the pre-cum at his tip as her other hand began to massage his balls.

“Stop,” he panted. “You need to stop or I’m gonna cum all over your mouth.”

“And what’s wrong with that?” She asked.

“I rather be fucking you hard and cum inside you.”

She immediately stood up and kissed Chris. He grabbed her ass again, only to help her jump and wrap her legs around his hips. When his knees touched the edge of his bed, he tossed her as if she was light as a feather. She let out a small squeal in the process.

“You’re wearing too much clothes,” he said.

“Agreed,” she sat up and lifted her arms. Chris took off her hoodie and groaned at the sight of her bare chest.

“No bra?”

She smirked. “I’m not wearing any panties either.”

Chris immediately removed her yoga pants. She opened her legs wide, inviting him to her her wet, dripping core.

“You’re already so wet,” his fingertips brushed against the inside of her thighs, making her squirm.

“Fucking eat me out already, Evans!” She said too impatiently.

Chris tongue immediately dove in, slowly going up her clit until his lips met with her bundle of nerves that would have her shaking underneath him in seconds.

She groaned and arched her back as he sucked, bite, and licked her heated core. Her hands slipped into his soft hair, playfully tugging, begging for more, but also slightly leading him to where she liked it best.

He swirled his tongue as he slipped two fingers in, causing her to mewl. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop,” she begged as she felt her orgasm building up. Her back left the bed as she arched when his third finger hit her g-spot and his thumb rubbed circles on her clit. “Fuck!” She yelled as she reached her climax.

Chris lapped up all her juices as she tried to calm down from her high. His lips left a trail of wet kisses until he kissed the valley of her breast. Her finger tips grazed his sides as he sucked on her harden nipple. She moaned in approval, closing her eyes and enjoying the sensation as his teeth tugged her nipple. He didn’t leave her other boob unattended as his big, warm hand massaged her nipple. He switched and did the exact same thing.

Y/N’s legs wrapped around his waist. “I can’t wait it anymore. I need you to fuck me.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Chris got up to reach for a condom from his nightstand. She grabbed it and tossed it aside. She’s not sure why she continued to be on birth control during a pandemic, but she’s thankful she did.

“I’m on birth control,” she said as she pushed him down on the bed. She straddled his lips and moved her hips up and down, lathering up his thick dick with her wet folds.

She wrapped his dick and pumped it a couple of times before she lined herself with his tip. She slowly lowered herself down his hard dick, her moaning growing louder the further deep she went. She paused for a second, getting comfortable and adjusting to his thick cock. She leaned forward and rested her hands on his bare chest. Chris hands cupped her boobs and squeezed them. He kissed the valley of her boobs as his hands slowly moved down the curves of her body and rested her on ass.

He slapped her, making her gasp. She leaned in to kiss him, her tongue dominating the heated kiss. Signaling her to move, Chris squeezed her ass, earning a groan from Y/N.

She slowly moved her hips up and carefully rushed back down, until he was balls deep. He growled as she clenched her walls around his hard dick. Chris' hands firmly gripped her hips and help her pick up the pace. He thrusted into her as she bounced up and down. Chris hissed as her fingernails dug into his shoulder blades.

She loved how thick he was. She could practically feel the veins in his dick as she rode him, making her walls clench tighter around his dick after each thrust.

“Chris,” she panted, digging her nails deeper into his skin. “I’m so close,” she said before she let out a moan. She continued to move her hips against his as his hand moved to her heated, wet core and began rubbing harsh circles against her clit.

“Chris!” She yelled as the hot bubble in the pit of her stomach exploded. With his finger still on her clit, Chris wrapped his other arm around her waist as she arched back. Her nails sliding down his back as she rode her high.

Chris thrusts were getting sloppier. Although she was exhausted, she was gonna let him finish. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him back until her back touched his bed.

“Cum for me, Chris,” she whispered in his ear. Her teeth tugged his earlobe. “I want to feel you fill me up.”

Chris let out an animal realistic growl, something Y/N had never heard or expected from him, but it turned her on. Chris grabbed one of her legs and put it over his shoulder, making them both groaning at the new angle as he began pounding her.

She pulled him close, wrapping her arms around him as she felt her third orgaism building up.

“Fuck you feel so good. So tight,” Chris grunted as he pounded her balls deep.

“I love your big, thick cock inside me, daddy,” she said before his tip hit her g-spot, causing her lips formed a small ‘o’.

The nickname made Chris loose it. He thrust in her one last time, before he filled her up with his cum. Her leg dropped as he fell to her chest. She wrapped her arms around him as their chest pressed against each other. He kissed her neck before his lips moved up to kiss her. She moaned when he slowly slipped out of her, already missing him.

“That was -“

“Amazing. Fantastic. Earth shattering?” She asked. He chuckled. “I’m serious. No guy has ever made me cum 3 times in one round,” she confessed.

Chris lips formed a smirk. “Give me a few minutes. And I’ll make sure you 4th one in our second round.” Her body ignited with excitement. She raised her eyebrows at him and bit her bottom lip, as if she was asking him if he was serious.

He got up and made his way to the bathroom. She heard the shower turn on. He came back out, his dick already starting to get hard again. “You coming?”

She immediately felt herself get wet again at the excitement of having hot shower sex. “We should have started this at the beginning of quarantine.”

“Baby, we’re just getting started,” he said before he kissed her and led her to the shower. 

[elareine]

Reverse robins idea. Jason doesnt become a Robin. The bats dont even find him before the cat herself. Selena is still on and off with Bruce at this point. Damian as noticed the little kitten running around and decides the kitten need a more responsible adult than his father and the cat. Cue thugs being terrified of the shadow that follows the little kitten around.

Thank you for this adorable prompt <3 Sorry it took me so long to finish. 

“Uh. Dami? What’re you doing?”

Those were—a lot of throwing knives. Like, actual knives, not Bat-themed at all.

Damian didn’t look up. “Sharpening my weapons.”

They looked plenty sharp to Dick, but Damian was a fussy old maid like his father. Their father. He was still getting used to that one.

“You’re supposed to be in Metropolis,” Dick pointed out.

Damian scowled. Dick didn’t take it personally. He liked his oldest brother. Dami glared a lot and yelled at Bruce when he was mean, and he never told Dick that he should stop seeking revenge for what happened to his parents. “Change of plans.”

“Can I come?”

“You’re heading out with Father tonight,” Damian pointed out. “And anyway, no.”

“What’re you doing? Is it a date?” Full disclosure: Dick wasn’t entirely sure what a ‘date’ was. He just knew that everyone blushed when he asked the question and that Bruce, according to Alfred, never got any.

Damian, however, just shook his head. “No. It’s a mission.”

Dick tilted his head to the side. “I don’t believe you.”

“That does not matter. It is the truth either way.”

Bullshit. Damian was sharpening his weapons, okay, but there was no mission for him in Gotham tonight. Bruce had told Dick so when he mentioned that all that would be happening tonight was a Catwoman heist, so he would pick Dick up after.  

(Dick had a sneaking suspicion that for Bruce, ‘heist’ and ‘date’ meant the same thing.)

Nooo, Damian was up to something. Something important—or embarrassing—enough that he would lie to his cute little brother about it.

Just wait until he told Babs about this! She was always going on about “Steph did this” and “Cass did that,” and now, finally, Dick had a juicy mystery to distract her. Hehe. This was going to be fun.

—

Selina would never understand Bats. If you’d asked her twenty years ago if she could see Bruce adopting a gaggle of orphans, she’d have laughed but agreed—if the kids were all alone in the world or in a situation that reminded Bruce of his own.

Like, the first kid—okay. That was his son. From the daughter of an immortal cult leader, Selina later found. Weird enough. Then the second just showed up because… the city needed him? And he was right? And then another assassin kid, this time a daughter.  

Really, only Dick fitted the pattern she’s envisioned for Bruce. Which was ironic, because, by that time, she’d taken in her own boy (the first after two Catgirls), who fit the pattern much better.

Of course, their child-rearing methods showed some marked differences. Selina thought it was for the better, really. Jay needed to be trusted, given responsibility, to determine his own fate. She let him run his own missions, treated him as an almost-equal when they went out together, didn’t comment on how he sometimes didn’t seem focused on the target so much as on the corrupt people owning it. Jay was thriving.

When his shadow showed up, Selina had expected him to be angry, the way he was whenever B mentioned a concept like ‘bedtime’ or Selina tried to protect him. But he’d lit up like there was nothing more comforting than a six-foot-four shadow following you around, glaring at criminals and innocents alike.

Selina, in her heart of hearts, did not like Damian. She didn’t fault him for his flaws, but it was hard to like someone who called you a harlot under his breath a million times.

Jay, though, adored him. Like, hung-onto-his-few-words, begged-to-buy-a-sword adored him. They even went out on patrol together sometimes. So Selina… let them. Taught Jay more restraining holds and knock-out moves than she had the others because he was a gifted thief already, but that was clearly not all that would be on his path.

And, hey. Usually, she and Bruce had to put their… thing on hold when they were responsible for pre-teens. If these ones took care of themselves, she wasn’t going to complain.

—

“Dames,” Jon greeted him cheerfully, “what’re you up to? Gonna join me tonight?”

“I can’t.”

At twenty-seven, Jon was way too old to pout. He still did. “Aww, why not? Important mission?”

“Not precisely.” There was shuffling on the other end of the line. “I… Catwoman is planning a two-person heist tonight. Batman has intentions of preventing it.”

Jon instantly forgave him. He looooved seeing this side of his partner. Damian rarely let himself be openly soft about anyone but his family, pets, and team, and even that was kept incredibly guarded.

(He often considered that Damian would have benefited from being a younger sibling. Being the first to come live with Bruce had been a steep learning curve for the man. Too steep.)

Didn’t mean Jon wouldn’t tease Damian about it. “So two adults are not supervision enough for the kid?”

“You know it isn’t,” Damian growled. “Father and that woman might do a passable job separately, but not together.”  

“What, are they fucking again?”

“Jon!”

Jon laughed. “C’mon, you caught them often enough to know it’s happening.”

“I’m not listening.” Damian immediately proved himself a liar by adding: “This is a dangerous area. They should know better.”

“Good thing you’re there, then.”

“I am sorry, though.” Damian’s voice softened. Jon once again marveled at how far he’d come. The teenager he’d befriended back then would never have such a thing. “Rain check?”

“I could join you, instead,” he offered, just to hear Damian sputter: “What—no! Your colors are visible a mile away!”

“Awww, don’t be like that!”

He decided then and there to keep an ear out for the kid when Damian wasn’t there. Just in case Jason wanted to sneak away to find his birth mother in a foreign country or some other stupid dramatic Gotham shit.

After hearing what had happened to Damian years ago, Jon had already made it his mission to protect the Robins, whether they wanted it or not. There wouldn’t be any more dead ones on his watch. It wouldn’t hurt to add a kitten to the list.

—

Jason had it handled. Really, he had. One of the goons had just taken a bit longer to go down, that was all. The knife had been totally unnecessary.

It took him another three minutes to do anything about that—two of the security guards were still standing, and they were pissed. Jason pushed one down the hallway, choked the other, and then clocked the first so hard he went down.

Then he turned around and searched for the darkest shadow. “I had that.”

Nothing moved.

“…it was a pretty good throw.” Maybe Jason should rethink his stance on throwing sharp shit at people, after all. He still maintained that a gun would be cleaner and more straightforward. Maybe Selina (and Damian) were right though about the value of silence. Their fight hadn’t alerted anyone.

At that, the thrower finally emerged from the shadows, cape dramatically outlining his figure. Jason rolled his eyes. What was it with Bats and dramatic costumes? Selina had made him swear that no matter how much he hung out with them, he wouldn’t ever wear one of the stupid things, and that was one promise that had been very easy to give.

“I have an observational task at the Bowery in two hours and could benefit from a second pair of eyes,” Damian said stiffly. “And your knowledge of the area, of course.”

Oh, awesome. Jason loved working in his old neighborhood. Made him feel useful, like he was doing something. “Can it wait an hour? Only, I’m kinda busy here, in case you didn’t notice.”

“Of course.” Was that a smile under the mask? “I will be waiting.”

Jason gave him a thumbs-up, though he made sure to call: “Don’t barge in again!” while running off. Selina would be waiting.

Jason had had a mother. Still had, really, death didn’t change that. Selina had told him she didn’t want to replace her, which was good cause she couldn’t. As for fathers—Nah. Jason had had enough of those for a lifetime; thank you, Bruce, you can fuck off.

But a big brother? That was new.

He liked it.

[cant-blink]

Trust, Ch. 1

Summary: Despite being hated enemies with Gigan, Mothra ‘agrees’ to go on a date with him and is forced to put trust in this monster. Both Gigan and Mothra are using the FW design.

-

This was probably going to be one of the worst ideas she’s ever had, but she honestly couldn’t take it anymore. Hearing over and over, the same obnoxious attempts to flirt from this asshole as they battled it out time and time again. Hell, even outside of battle, he would yell out “Give me your number!” every time he saw her. What did that even mean?!

It was clear this alien cyborg didn’t take her seriously, didn’t take their fights seriously and it would be enough to break even the strongest of patience. It certainly has gotten on her very last nerve.

“Maybe after I’m done beating your ass out here,” he had said after slashing at her with a claw. “We can bring the action into the bedroom.”

She finally snapped and without thinking: “Shut up! Shut! UP!! I'll go out with you if you just shut the hell up!”

...

The silence that followed was almost as intense as their battle. The blue cyborg across from her tilted his head slightly, visibly taken aback that she actually said that. But she doesn’t back down from her bluff; one of them was going to fold and it’s not going to be her. Foolish and immature? Perhaps, certainly not something her mother would’ve done.

“What?”

“You heard me,” Mothra continued. “Going on and on about ‘showing me a good time’, how about you actually DO it?”

She was expecting, hoping, that he would immediately deny her, admit that he was just messing around. But instead, she heard him let out a laugh.

“You’re serious?”

She was dead serious, and he knew it. He never actually had any real interest in her, and his taunts were just that: taunts, meant to agitate her. It was funny, hearing the increasing anger in her voice as she kept telling him to shut up and fight. Really, she only encouraged him by saying that. But the idea that she would actually accept his ‘offers’ never crossed his mind and for a moment, he had no idea how to respond. She was bluffing, surely, but does he call her on it?

Well, of course he has to. This has become a game between them, and he was not going to be the one that backpedals. Who knows, maybe it could be fun.

“Alright then, babe,” Gigan chuckled, straightening out from his fighting position. “My bedroom, or yours?”

“No,” she told him firmly, her mind scrambling to avoid THAT fate. “We’re going to do this properly. You want me so bad, take me out on a date first.” Ha! Now the stupid cyborg definitely had to back down first! Surely, he would never-

“A date?” Gigan responded with a combination of disbelief and amusement. Well, now she definitely had his curiosity and still not backing down, he stepped closer. She doesn’t move from where she hovered. “Where to?”

“I don’t know,” Mothra told him. Shit, she’s losing it! “You’re taking me, so wherever you think I’ll have a good time.”

Gigan watched her for a moment. She really was being serious, wasn’t she? Alright then, he’ll bite. He wasn’t exactly sure what SHE would find fun, probably something boring like the beach or something. Nah, he had better ideas on where to go to have fun, and he already had one in mind.

“Tell me, how often have you actually travelled off this pathetic little mudball?”

It was Mothra’s turn to tilt her head and she would narrow her eyes if she could. He’s an alien, so of course he would want to go somewhere off the planet. But... “Never. I can’t fly into space, so whatever you have in mind isn’t going to work.”

Just keep being difficult, he’ll give up eventually.

“Don’t be so sure, babe,” Gigan pressed. “Anyway, there is this one bar I like to go to.”

“A bar?” THAT’S this cyborg’s idea of a date? Granted, she hasn’t been in any sort of relationship before, but she’s next to certain the bar wasn’t the usual choice for a first date. Right? Either way... “In space? Seriously, how exactly am I to get there, genius?”

“I suppose the real question is, how much are you willing to trust me?”

“Not at all.” she deadpanned.

“Smart girl,” Gigan snickered. “Unfortunately, you don’t have much of a choice, do you? After all, I’m taking you, right?” Mothra was clearly not amused with him using her own words against her. “Or do you want to back down? In which case, I’m calling this battle a win.”

“No, no. I’m not backing down from anything.” Her sense of pride forbids it. “But you do know there’s plenty of bars here on Earth, right? We can just go to one of those. I think Anguirus actually has one on Monster Island.”

“Ha! His little shack won’t hold a candle to the one I go to. The location alone is breathtaking, better than anything you’ve ever seen here,” he tells her. “Only the best for you, babe.” He flashed his visor at her, and she flinched the tiniest bit. False alarm, that wasn’t another of his laser blasts; it was his version of a wink. 

He didn’t seem to notice her little flinch as he continued. “That and my friend works there. We’ll get free drinks, without me having to kill anyone for them. Which I will happily do in your local bars. You wouldn’t want innocent blood on your claws, would you?”

He really was making it difficult for her, trying to get her to back down first! He got her in a corner here and neither of them were backing down! What have they gotten themselves into?!

Mothra kept her blue compound eyes on him before she glanced back down towards the ground. After a moment, she looked back up at him and saw him watching her expectantly. There was no way out of this unless she surrendered the battle.......

Which will never happen!!

“Fine.” This is going to be a bad idea, but she can’t back down now. Besides, the more time he’s spending with her, the less time he’s causing trouble. This can work to her advantage. “Again: How am I going to get there?”

“You’ll have to come closer, babe,” he tells her. “Real close.”

Yep, this definitely was going to be a bad idea, but nonetheless she flew closer to the cyborg. Her wingbeats were slow and cautious as she approached, hesitating just out of range. She could imagine her mother yelling at her over this. Hell, even Battra would scold her for this stupidity...

“Closer.”

Her claws twitched, as she gave another flap of her wings to close the distance a little bit more. No sooner had she done that than he reached out a claw and pulled her in. Her legs instinctively pushed against him, trying to keep her body off his and, most importantly, off that buzzsaw. But alas, Gigan pulled her back against him, the smirk ever-present on his beak widening.

“Let go,” she demanded.

“Don’t be so difficult, babe,” Gigan chuckled. “I told you, you’re going to have to trust me, whether you like it or not.” His visor moves to her wings, still fanned open and his other claw trails over the scaly surface, slight dust falling as he does. “I suggest you fold these down. My transport won’t accommodate for them.” His voice took on a sarcastic tone. “Would hate to damage such pretty little sails.”

Why does he keep calling her wings that? It’s annoying as fuck, but she has long since given up correcting him on it.

Without a word, she folds her wings down, as tight as she could against her body. Even rolling up the edges to make extra certain they were safe from whatever was about to happen. Unfortunately, she really did have to trust this cyborg at this point, and she hated it.

Gigan started flying straight upwards, carrying her with him. How far up are they going to go? In no time, she was higher than she usually flew and it was already getting colder, especially as they made it above the clouds. The droplets of water on her fur frosted over, and the air was starting to thin. She felt the muscles in her thorax begin to shiver, and her abdomen contracted and expanded quickly to force in more air, the insect equivalent to gasping for breath. 

Her heart began to race in her abdomen as she began second-guessing Gigan’s intentions. He was going to take her into space without protection, wasn’t he? Swear, she will reincarnate in an instant just to kick his ass!

She already began pushing against him, about to struggle free to commence the ass-whooping when Gigan suddenly curled up around her. Blue energy escapes him and began to solidify around them. Now she understood what he meant about potentially damaging her wings, as it seemed the energy already had a pre-set boundary to construct around. No doubt her wings would be crushed or even cut right off if they got in its way.

Mothra rolled her wings up more, making sure the edges don’t extend beyond Gigan’s body. Only after the diamond was fully formed around them did she relax her wings, unfolding them to rest against the transparent walls of their space-pod. She can breathe properly again, and her abdomen relaxed as well. She wasn’t going to suffocate, she was going to be okay. Hopefully... 

It took a moment for her to comprehend that she’s now trapped in here. With Gigan of all kaiju. The available space was quite snug too, so pushing off of him wasn’t much of an option. He was quite warm at least, especially after the cold trip up here.

What was most alarming, though, was the ever increasing sleepiness blanketing over her. The way it was coming out of nowhere wasn’t natural. Oh, no... She glanced up at the alien’s face, only to find his visor dimming. “Gigan?”

“Hm?” His voice sounded tired and his visor brightened slightly. Oh, he was falling asleep, so whatever it was is effecting him too. That meant it was normal and she wouldn’t be left vulnerable to him. Good, because she wasn’t ready to trust him THAT much. She doesn’t say anything further and instead shifted a bit.

The cyborg made no attempt to hold her still and she moved to peer over his shoulder. His sails were flattened against his back, giving her a clear view behind him. 

There was Earth, getting smaller and smaller behind them. They must be accelerating at insane speeds, yet she felt none of the g-forces involved. Very odd.

She felt Gigan rest his chin down onto her back, and she does nothing to shake him off. No, she focused only on her home getting further away. She hoped everyone there will be okay, and that Battra won’t do anything stupid like kill all her humans. Damn idiot counterpart, thinking he knows better than her; ‘The humans are a threat to the world, blah, blah, they must be destroyed, blah blah’. He’s just mad they worshipped her over him. 

Her mind was getting cloudy as the sleepiness overtook her and she too rests her chin on Gigan’s shoulder, cheek pressing against his neck. She can feel his breathing slowing down, until it was undetectable.

This wasn’t just sleep, she realized. This was full-blown suspended animation, and she wasn’t quite sure if she was ready for that. Didn’t matter, it was already too late to turn back. Her own eyes dimmed and her antennae drooped as she drifted off, her beloved Earth now a speck in the distance.

She’ll be back, she promised.

[loftec]

Hi! in this prompt, could we know about Mickey's ex boyfriend or something? I think his name was Matt?

thank you for participating + pre NTW - Mickey's POV 👀

Anon: tell us about Matt

Yevgeny: his name was Mark

Mickey, pinching the bridge of his nose: Martin, and no. I’m not gonna tell you about Martin.

Narrator: little did Mickey know that he had zero say on the matter, let’s goooo.

April 13, 2013. Saturday.

Mickey is just off the L when his phone rings. For a moment, he considers ignoring the buzzing in his pocket as he lights up a cigarette and bounds down the metal steps. The list of people likely to call him is very limited, and most of that list is very welcome to fuck off to voicemail on a Saturday evening. Work can fuck off, telemarketers can doubly fuck off. On this particular Saturday, even his extended family can fuck off. It might be Martin, wondering where he is, but he can quite frankly also fuck off, seeing as Mickey is no more than five minutes away from their agreed rendezvous.

That only leaves one, and the thought alone is enough for Mickey to step out of the flow of people rushing to and from the platform, and check the damned call. Seeing the ID, he quickly picks up, pressing the phone to his ear.

”What the fuck?” he asks, unsure if he should be annoyed or alarmed and figuring this would best cover a bit of both.

”Hey dad,” his son says, unexpectedly.

”Yev?” Mickey says, inching towards annoyed. At least his son is unharmed enough to dial a phone, so it can’t be too bad. ”What’s wrong? Where’s Sonya?”

”She’s right here,” Yevgeny says, he sounds fine, normal, good, ”we can’t find the cake poking thing.”

Staring at the empty space in front of him, Mickey feels the rest of his mood swan dive head-first into annoyed. ”The what?”

”The thing we use to poke cakes, to check if they’re done? We can’t find it and we need it, the cake is almost done.”

Taking the forgotten cigarette from his lips, Mickey angles the burning end away from his face as he rubs at the deep line between his eyebrows.

”Kid,” he says, trying to sound calm, ”give the phone to Sonya.”

There are some muffled noises over the line, and then Mickey can hear his son’s distant voice. ”He wants to talk to you.”

”Hey Mickey,” Sonya comes on, breezy as anything. ”Is it supposed to be in the cutlery drawer? Been rifling through that thing for a good minute already.”

”Are you fucking kidding me?”

”What? It’s not such a weird guess, is it? I’d say it’s cutlery adjacent at least.”

”I’ve been outta the fucking house for less than forty minutes!” Mickey says, calmly. He is absolutely not screeching loud enough to have people on the street give him concerned looks. ”And you call me about some fucking–, I don’t have anything like that! Who has a thing specifically for poking cakes?!”

”Oh please,” Sonya scoffs. ”Plenty people do, you being one of them!”

He wants to point out that this is categorically not what he meant when he said ’call me if there’s an emergency’, but he’s got a feeling that this is only going to get him into an argument about the definition of ’emergency’ that he’s not going to win, and besides, he’s got bigger fish to fry right now.

”I absolutely do fucking not!” he splutters, glaring at a couple throwing him side-eye as they rush past him. ”Are you outta your mind?”

”I know you have one, because I gave it to you,” Sonya says, clanking sounds in the background from where she’s still presumably rifling through Mickey’s shit. ”Remember? When you moved in? I got it in Sweden when I was visiting for my cousin’s wedding. It was hand crafted, Mickey, you better not have thrown it out!”

”That thing?” Mickey balks, smoothly electing to not point out that they both know Sonya came home from her trip with like ten of those in her luggage and then spent the next two years giving them to all her friends and family whenever she’d forgot about getting gifts for an occasion. ”I stuck it in Merida.”

The silence on the other end of the line is palpable, and it takes a second for Mickey to hear what he just said.

”Who is Merida, and do I want to know why you stuck my hand-carved Swedish cake poker in her?”

Mickey sighs, and decides that he doesn’t have to answer that. He can try, at least. ”Tell Yev it’s in Merida.”

”I most certainly will not tell your sweet summer child that you’ve stuck the cake poker in–,” her increasingly high pitched voice abruptly falls to a hiss, ”–Merida, who is Merida?”

Luckily, Mickey can hear his son in the background, saving him from having to explain. ”It’s this thing?”

There’s another silence, Mickey takes the opportunity to smoke and accept the inevitable.

”Two questions,” Sonya says, her usual good humor back in her voice. ”One, you stuck my hand-carved Swedish souvenir in a potted plant? And two, you named the plant Merida?”

”It’s cartoon character–,” Mickey starts, before realizing what he’s saying and cutting himself off, ”I didn’t name it, obviously.”

”But you still call it by its name.”

”Whatever,” Mickey blows out a puff of smoke and can’t help smiling. Sometimes he just has to stop and take stock of how fucking ridiculous his life has turned out. And how much he fucking likes it, despite himself. ”Congratulations, you found it. Any other emergency you needed me for, or can I get back to my–”

He swallows, catching himself mid-sentence, suddenly unsure of how he intended to end it.

”–thing.”

”You’re there already?” Sonya asks, sounding genuinely remorseful now. ”Sorry, you left so late I thought for sure you’d missed the train and would still be en route, or I wouldn’t have told Yev to call. How’s the date going?”

Mickey swallows again, throat dry. He starts walking down the street in the direction of the bar.

”It’s fine, still on the way,” he says, ”and it’s not a date.”

”Like heck it isn’t,” Sonya tuts, ”you’re out on a Yev weekend for the first time since I’ve known you, and I saw that shirt you’re wearing.”

He runs a hand self-consciously along his belt, his button-down still tucked in and in place. He refuses to worry about it.

”You looked good, Mickey, I meant to tell you,” Sonya continues, and she doesn’t even sound like she’s teasing anymore which Mickey knows even less how to handle. ”And you’re undeniably on a date.”

”Shut up,” Mickey mutters and smiles to himself when Sonya laughs. Feeling a little more himself, he chucks his cigarette to the curb and stops to look across the road at his destination. ”Maybe.”

He hadn’t really considered the possibility, before Martin asked him. But the sex was always good, they got along really well, and when Martin looked up at him from his bed as Mickey was pulling on his jeans, his hair rumpled and lips still shiny, and asked if he wanted to go to some kind of hipster showcase gig together, Mickey had barely even hesitated.

”About time, too,” Sonya says. ”Was starting to think the guy wasn’t all there, taking his sweet time. Maybe he was waiting for you to ask.”

”Ey,” Mickey shakes his head, ”it’s only been a couple of months.”

”Try six! That’s half of a whole year.”

”Try minding your own fucking business,” Mickey says and frowns. Maybe it has been that long since the first time they hooked up, but it’s not like they’ve been fucking on the regular the whole time since then.

”Just happy for you, Mickey,” Sonya says, like it’s an easy thing for her to say. ”You like him, right?”

He doesn’t say yes, but he doesn’t outright deny it either, which probably tells Sonya everything she needs to know.

”Gotta go,” he says instead, ”and don’t call me again unless it’s an actual fucking emergency. See you tomorrow.”

Not waiting to see if she’s got something to say to that, he hangs up and shoves the phone back into his pocket. Staring at the unassuming building across the street, he allows himself a moment to take it all in. He’s just casing the joint before he enters, it’s normal fucking behavior. He isn’t stalling.

It doesn’t look too busy from the outside, there’s no line, and no bouncer or guard by the propped open double doors. The walls of the building are littered with layers of posters, on both sides of the doors and across the covered windows. Not much can be seen through the doors from his vantage point, but he assumes that it’s a front room leading to whatever’s going on inside the building.

There’s a guy standing off to the side of the doors, smoking. He’s got a lanyard shoved down his back pocket, ID badge dangling in clear sight. Most likely someone working at the bar, out on a break. His shoulders are hunched and he’s got a phone clutched to his ear, head bent and lips pressed together in a thin line. He nods at whatever is being said to him over the phone. Mickey looks up at the worn sign above the door.

”Fuck it,” Mickey mutters and, pushing aside the last of his niggling doubt, makes his way across the street and through the doors. It’s dark enough inside that his eyes need a second to adjust, before he quickly orients himself and heads toward the noise and lights leaking out from behind a set of swing doors beyond the coat check.

”Excuse me!” someone pipes up behind him, and he turns back to raise his eyebrows at the girl standing behind a counter by the entrance. ”We’ve got a showcase tonight, you need to buy a ticket.”

She makes an apologetic face as Mickey gets closer and pulls out his wallet.

”25,” she says when he gives her a questioning look.

”Christ,” he mutters, but forks over the money. ”This better be good.”

”We’ve got a really exciting lineup tonight, all local acts,” she says, obviously relieved now that he’s payed and she can tuck away his hard earned cash in her little lock box. ”I’m hoping I can take a break soon so I can sneak a peak of the headliner.”

She winks at him as she hands over a ticket, and he has zero fucking clue what he’s supposed to do with any of that.

”Okay?” he says and accepts the ticket. ”What’s this for? I’m already here.”

”In case you want to go in and out,” she says, and then tacks on when she seems to remember something she’s supposed to say; ”there’s no smoking in the venue.”

Mickey shrugs and pockets the ticket, biting back the urge to tell her that there’s no fucking smoking anywhere these days, thank you very much. The girl is still smiling at him when he turns his back on her and heads for the bar.

”Have fun!”

Finally inside, the place seems to be a collection of smaller rooms with some walls knocked down to make a larger, oddly shaped space. The bar is crowded, three bartenders moving around each other and pouring drinks in the narrow space behind it, and all the tables tucked away in the dark half-room next to it seem occupied. In the main room, Mickey finds the small, raised stage with a bigger crowd gathered in front of it. There’s a guy on stage, talking about something and looking like he’s about to cry while getting thoroughly ignored by a majority of his audience.

Mickey included, when he spots Martin a bit to the left of the stage. He’s talking to a couple of people he must have met in the crowd, smiling in that carefree way of his, eyes squeezed together and head tossed back when he laughs. He seems to do that a lot, laugh and talk and make friends wherever he goes. Open about himself in casual throw-away lines as he lets Mickey into his apartment, takes his clothes off, catching his breath, seeing Mickey off again. It’s nice seeing him out here, in the real world.

Maybe this could work. Mickey really should have tried harder to be on time, leaving your date to make new friends while he waits for you to show up seems like a bad move, now that he thinks about it.

Shit. Here goes nothing.

”Hey!” Martin exclaims, face lighting up with a wide smile when Mickey walks into his line of sight. He doesn’t sound upset, really doesn’t look it either when he pulls Mickey in for a quick kiss. It’s over before Mickey’s had the chance to do much else than blink in surprise.

”I’m late,” he acknowledges and hopes Martin will take the attempt at an apology for what it is.

”It’s fine,” Martin gins at him, tilting his head in the direction of the stage, ”you haven’t missed anything good.”

”– have you ever noticed that?” the guy on stage mutters into the microphone, ”I mean–, uh, I’ve noticed, that–, sometimes–”

Tuning the guy out again, Mickey looks past his date at the two people still standing on his other side, regarding them curiously.

”We got a problem?” he asks them, raising his eyebrows further when the woman just smiles at him.

”Oh,” Martin says, angling himself so the four of them make a little semi-circle in the crowd. ”My friends, Nora, Ethan, this is Mickey.”

Mickey stares at the side of Martin’s face for a moment, before he notices Ethan’s outstretched hand. He feels confused enough to grab it in a quick handshake. The woman, Nora, just keeps smiling.

”Nice to meet you, Mickey,” she says, clearly hiding something. People generally aren’t this smiley without an agenda, in Mickey’s experience.

”Sure,” Mickey says, glancing at Martin for some clue as to what he’s supposed to do now.

”You wanna go get yourself a drink?” Martin asks, pointing in the direction of the bar. ”This comedy train wreck should be over soon, hopefully.”

”Sure,” Mickey says again, wrong-footed by the whole odd situation and frustrated with himself for not being able to shake the feeling that he’s made a huge mistake.

”Go with him!” Nora says, making Martin take a half-step closer to Mickey by shoving lightly at his shoulder. ”We’ll save the spot.”

She gives Martin a pointed look and some kind of silent communication seems to happen between them, ending with her looking victorious and Martin dropping his head back with an exaggerated sigh. Then he turns to Mickey and playfully gestures for him to lead the way.

”Sorry about her,” he says once they’ve reached the bar, leaning in closer to speak directly into Mickey’s ear. The warmth of his breath makes the hairs on his neck stand on end. ”I keep telling her to back off, but she’s got it in her head that we’re doing something we’re not.”

Mickey swallows and turns his head to look at Martin when he leans back.

”And what are we doing?” he asks, and he doesn’t realize how it sounds until he sees Martin’s gobsmacked expression.

He lets out a startled laugh. ”Are we really gonna talk about this now? Here?”

And technically, Mickey agrees with him. He really doesn’t want to have the ’what are we’ conversation, and he definitely doesn’t want to have it now, here. But he’s already said it, and now he needs to know.

”Maybe,” he says and frowns when Martin just stares at him for a moment.

”I don’t know?” Martin eventually says. ”We have fun, right? I didn’t think you wanted it to be more than that?”

Mickey can barely hear his own thoughts over the noise from the bar, but he can practically feel his heartbeat in his throat. ”Do you?”

Martin makes a pained face, like it’s an involuntary reaction to the mere idea, before he shrugs helplessly and gives Mickey an uncertain smile.

”We don’t really have anything in common, Mickey,” he says. ”I don’t know, I just don’t see it going anywhere.”

”Thank you for participating,” the guy on stage says, his voice louder and verging on hysterical. It gives Mickey a reason to look away from Martin’s face for a second, hating the sympathetic twist to his lips. He feels like a fool.

”You suck!” someone yells in the audience.

”Yeah? Right back at you buddy!”

”Get off the stage!”

”Sure,” Mickey says, and nods. ”No, sure. You’re right.”

”Sorry?” Martin says and grins when Mickey rolls his eyes. ”And we can still have fun, right? Hey, I’ll buy you a drink! What do you want?”

”Anything, a beer,” Mickey tries to focus on Martin, on the list of prices pinned to the wall behind the bar, but there is suddenly too much noise, too many people, too much… stuff. ”I just gotta–”

He doesn’t know what he’s trying to say, so he stops. He doesn’t know what he wants, but getting out of this room would be a good start.

Martin looks confused, and then tuts reproachfully when Mickey pulls out his pack of smokes and gestures in the direction of the doors. He hates it when Mickey smokes, always makes him brush his teeth before they do anything. Guess that’s another thing they don’t have in common. Mickey hadn’t given it much thought.

He leaves Martin by the bar to fend for the bartender’s attention on his own and goes back outside, ignoring the surprised look on the girl by the door when he strides past her. Once outside, he’d hoped the fresh air and relative silence would knock him back on track, but it doesn’t. Everything is exactly the same, only now he can add ’running away like a pussy’ to the list of tonight’s embarrassments. He hates this, this isn’t him.

He should go back inside, show Martin and his friends that he doesn’t give a shit. Have a couple of beers, get through the night, make that asshole suck his dick until he can’t feel anything but a warm mouth and his own pleasure. But he’s not repaying any favors, not tonight, let that shithead take care of himself, since he can’t see it going anywhere. Fuck that. It’s fine.

”I know–, no, I know…”

Wrapped up in his own bullshit, Mickey hadn’t noticed he wasn’t alone. The same man from before is still on the phone, and he looks if possible even more miserable than he did when Mickey first arrived.

”That isn’t–, no, I know you didn’t… listen–”

Mickey ignores him, taking out a cigarette putting it to his lips. Might as well, he’s already out here. He lights it up. He, lights it up… come the fuck on, he lights it up. His lighter is out. Fucking great.

”Ey,” he says and turns to the guy on the phone, ”you got a light?”

The guy stares at him, and Mickey absently thinks he looks even worse up close. Like, disturbingly hot and built enough to properly toss a guy around if he wanted, but absolutely worn down by whatever it is he’s doing with whoever’s on the phone with him. Whatever, not Mickey’s problem. He shakes his empty lighter when the guy doesn’t immediately react.

”Oh,” the guy blinks, his eyes are red. He digs out a lighter from somewhere and hands it over. ”Here.”

”Thanks,” Mickey steps close enough so he can reach out and take it, and consequently hear the distant sound of a man’s voice on the other end of the line. He can’t make out any words, but the tone is unmistakable. The guy frowns and turns away slightly.

”Jesus, Jace, what the fuck?” he says, voice low and sharp. ”Are you serious right now? I’m not–, you know what?”

Mickey lights up and takes a couple of steps away to give the guy some privacy, but might still watch him out of the corner of his eye and hear pretty much everything he says. Call him a nosy bitch, but he really needs the distraction right now.

”I can’t do this right now,” the guy sighs, rubbing a hand over his eyes. ”We’re on in like ten minutes and I can’t–, I can’t do this with you right now. I asked you for time.”

He listens, and whatever it is that’s being said to him seems to hit a nerve. The general air around him of annoyed resolve slowly shifts into something more resigned.

”Yeah, I know… I’m sorry,” he says, and Mickey doesn’t know him or his situation, but he knows this can’t be right. ”Tomorrow, we’ll talk. I promise. Yeah, thanks… I will. Love you, too.”

Mickey shouldn’t be listening to this, he should finish his cigarette and go back inside. Find Martin and enjoy the night, have some fucking fun. Maybe he should, but he doesn’t want to.

He wants to go home, put on some fucking comfortable clothes and watch a movie with his kid.

”Heads up,” he says and waits until the phone guy looks up before he lobs the lighter back at him. He fumbles, but catches it. ”Fuck him, you deserve better.”

The guy stares at him, and rightly so. Mickey doesn’t know why he said that, he doesn’t know anything about it. But the guy looks… he looks a bit like Mickey’s feeling, deep down and buried many times over.

He looks lost.

”You deserve better,” Mickey repeats, because he already said it and he’s nothing if not all in. The guy opens his mouth on a shaky exhale, but he doesn’t say anything. Probably thinking of ways to get away from the freak accosting him on the street with unsolicited affirmation bullshit. Which, fair enough. Guess that’s Mickey’s cue to fuck off. If the guy would just stop staring at him like that.

A hand-holding couple suddenly walks right through their intense moment, heading for the doors. Mickey comes back to himself and, thinking quick, he takes out his ticket and waves it at the couple to get their attention.

”No thanks,” the man said, probably thinking he’s trying to sell it.

”Just fucking take it,” Mickey grumbles, shoving the ticket at them.

”Uh, thanks?”

Mickey waves a dismissive hand at them, already on his way.

”Thank you!” someone shouts after him.

He can’t wait to get home. Kick off his shoes, wash out the gel in his hair. Untuck his fucking shirt. Investigate whatever that cake poking business was about, hopefully cake. Watch his kid watch a movie, see his little face light up and mouth along with the words. Absolutely ignore Sonya’s inevitable attempts to get him to ’talk about it’.

His life is fucking fine the way it is, he doesn’t know why he got it in his head to try and make it something it isn’t.