#there were two asks like this. and then i got four more in like two days

[bunny-jpeg]

sinful sentences (six)

franco colapinto - "how do you like that?"

tags: smut/pwp, phone/facetime sex, mutual masturbation, voice kink, dirty talk

sinful sentences catalogue

weeks apart, you have been apart for weeks. while formula one had been a blessing to franco, it had be a source of personal hell for you. while his karting career meant he was away a lot, at least the schedule allowed you to visit him more often. but with you wrapped up in your own academic work, you had been without the touch of your lover for close to four weeks now.

and things were getting dire for you. you missed sleepy mornings together, you missed the good luck kisses, you missed his jokes and his laugh. you missed the smell of him after a shower (sometimes after a work out) - he was such an important part of your life that without it everything felt grayer.

you tried to keep a positive outlook though, you cheered him on and watched every race. you were his number on fan on top of being his lover. but you could only masturbate so many times with your face in his pillow before you started to get cramps in your hands.

but a small saving grace came when you got a text message from franco asking if you wanted to facetime - "i miss you, my love. i want to see your face once more!"

you were both sexually needy. franco wanted you and casual catch-up turned into him without his shirt on and his hand grasped around his cock in his sweatpants. his breathing heavy as he positioned his phone up against some pillows. to eye you with heat while he pleasured himself.

you did the same before you kicked off your sweatpants and took off your (formerly his) t-shirt. he caught sight of your breasts and gripped his cock a little tighter to off-set the throb of erection. you drove him crazy, you were something else entirely. that was why he wanted you so badly, why he craved for you the way someone craved food or water. your pretty tits were a life source for him.

"i wish you were here right now. i wish i was back home in your bed. does it still smell like me, angel? you know i have one of your sweaters, sadly it accidentally got covered in cum. but when i get home, i'm going to put it on you and fuck you right up against your dresser until all those little toys fall off." his voice was heavy with lust, his breathing was heavy as he got his cock out of his sweatpants. he couldn't take anymore. not while you looked so beautiful for him.

"i miss you franco." you said softly, "i'm so proud of you, but i miss our time together. i want you, fuck. anyway i can have you, i just need you, honey." you started to rub your achy clit, your wetness got all over the fabric of your panties and seeped through onto your hand.

the feeling was intense as you two started to pleasure yourselves. franco's phone fell over once and he was quick to move it back as he stroked his cock quickly. pleasure zapped through your bodies, even so much space between you two, you felt the connectivity between you two. the closeness you shared as you masturbated together.

"i missed you too." he groaned, "every day we are apart, it feels like days upon days. i missed you, i missed our home. i miss the way you laugh and how you look when you are asleep. and i know that you think you look ugly when you sleep, but i love it. i love all of you." he groaned as he continued to pleasure himself. his hand fisted his cock as he felt the pleasure leap through his body.

he kept his eyes near glued to the screen by him, the sight of your hands in between your legs. you looked beautiful in a way that words failed him. the usual charming franco colapinto was at a loss for words in regards to your beauty. knowing that you were touching yourself because of him, that you couldn't deny yourself pleasure in regards to your lover.

"you'll be home soon, and when you come home, i'm going to make it special. because you've been working so hard, i miss you. but i'm so proud." you whimpered as you touched yourself further. you could feel the pleasure through your body the more you touched yourself, "i'll make our reunion special, babe. that's a promise." the words were filthy and he loved it, he loved you.

"i'll take care of you, my love." he said softly, "make up for lost time. you and i, you better buy enough groceries for two weeks because we won't be leaving the apartment." he chuckled lowly, "i want to remember every part of you while we are apart."

franco wanted to touch you. he wanted his strong hands up and down your body, he wanted to feel his lover under his touch. he wanted to hit your sweet spot, the spots you couldn't quite reach. he wanted to feel your climax and then kiss your heated skin once you came down from the high. he wanted everything, he was a lover in that way. the kind that wanted you in every capacity. just one of the funner ways was to fuck you.

facetime would just have to make due until he finally got his hands back on you. to see you on the screen masturbating did arouse him greatly. he tensed his grasp around his cock as he continued to let his mouth run with his affection towards you. "you look beautiful, even with that shit camera of your phone. but i know your body anywhere. look at your breasts, your pussy. that look on your face." he purred as he continued to stroke. he could feel the want in his body as he made the pleasure grow in his core.

"how do you like that?" you asked, near pathetic.

"my hand is nothing like you. but, i'll think about when i see you again. two more races and then i am all yours. just as you are mine, right?" he panted heavily as the pleasure raced through him further. he could feel the tension in his body from the intense feeling of it all. his heart hammered and he could feel it down to his feet.

"sweet talker."

he chuckled, "only for you, my love. only you make me act like this. when i'm with you, i lose control. even over a screen, i want you. fuck, i need you." he licked his lips as the pleasure continued to mount in his body. he stroked his cock heavier and let the pleasure wash over him. the thrill of want in his core only grew the more he touched himself. he switched up the pace every so often to keep the pleasure throbbing in his brain.

"i love you, franco." you groaned.

"and i love you." he replied. he watched you through half-lidded eyes as you brought yourself to climax. he said as you panted through climax, "when i come home, you'll get the real thing. i promise." there was a lust to his words that only emboldened you to continued to pleasure yourself through orgasm.

and it excite franco enough to finish as well. he came with a groan and tried to bite back his words getting too loud. williams didn't need to know what he was getting up to tonight. the pleasure washed over him as you teased your clit to the sight of him orgasming.

you soon both stopped your pace and laid out on your respective beds. you brought the phone closer to him and looked at his flushed expression. you giggled and made kissing noises towards the camera which made him laugh a little.

"a few more weeks, my love. then i am back home and i'm back in your arms." he smiled dreamily at you, "i'm thinking maybe, after the season, i can take some of the racing money and we can go somewhere for the holidays. i want to make up for all the time we're apart. what do you say?"

his gesture made your cheeks heat up a little bit. you replied as franco got a good look at your face on the screen, "make me finish harder than i just did. and i'll go anywhere with you."

"then, my love, i suggest you pack your bags." <3

[maxispixels]

HANDPICKED

PART NINE.

Hobie Brown x GN!Reader

3.2k words

You work at a flower shop in late 70s London and Hobie's being a menace. Slowburn? Probably will be around 10 parts. Strangers to reluctant acquaintances to friends to something more. Maybe a lil' messy?

Part one. Part two. Part three. Part four. Part five. Part six. Part seven. Part eight. Part nine.

The week passed by painfully slowly. Hobie, busy rehearsing with his band, wasn’t keeping you company at the shop. Rose wasn’t there either, actually enjoying retirement for once. The only thing to entertain you was the old radio, but you didn’t dare put on one of Hobie’s favorite pirate stations, unequipped to explain it to the next customer. Additionally, you still had the irrational fear that the cops would somehow know you were listening to a pirate station and come arrest you right away. 

When the weekend finally arrived, you still felt anxious at the idea. Especially considering that Hobie being on stage meant he couldn’t be by your side for your first concert, and you didn’t look forward to being thrown alone in a crowd of energetic punks. The day of, your anxiety only increased. He had left to rehearse with his band, and you were alone with your thoughts.

Before he could leave, you did ask him what you were supposed to wear. 

“Dunno mate. Something comfortable. Layers so you can take ‘em off when it gets warm inside.” He shrugged, and you only looked more confused.

“Don’t I have to dress… I don’t know… Punk?” You tilted your head.

“Wot? Nah, just wear whatever you want. You don’t have to put on a punk costume, there’s no such thing.” Faced with your anxious gaze, he sighed. “I mean, if it makes you feel better, ya can always put on fishnets or som’thin’, I don’t know.” He rummaged through a pile of his junk on the floor, grabbing a black pencil and holding it like a weapon of mass destruction. He unceremoniously grabbed your face, squeezing your cheeks. You shut your eyes as the pencil approached.

“Don’t stab my eyes please—”

“I know what I’m doin’! Stop movin’!” He mumbled as he carefully applied the black around your eyes, before letting your face go. “Now rub yer eyes like your life depends on it and smudge it real well.” You followed his instruction.

He laughed at you. “Perfect. You look like a sad racoon. Punk as hell.”

You puffed and pouted, but he was already out of your flat.

You weren’t too mad.

When the time went to leave, you almost convinced yourself not to go. Almost. But then you spotted the crumpled yellow sticky note on your desk, his messy handwriting barely legible from how the ink had bled. You traced the letters with your thumb, inhaled sharply, and forced yourself out the door.

You dragged yourself in the cold, trying to wash away whatever worries you had. You were just there for him. It was going to be alright. You stole a jacket of his, hoping the spikes would act as some sort of protection.

The air stung the skin of your nose as your steps quickened in hope of finding some warmth inside the club. The closer you got, the more alive the street seemed to grow. Distant laughter, muffled music spilling from unseen doors, and the faint smell of beer and cigarettes hung in the air. Your steps faltered when you saw the neon sign above the club, its flickering letters buzzing like a warning.

Groups of punks were gathered near the entrance, some sharing cigarettes, others already tipsy and singing something off-key. Two men, swaying slightly, were either arguing or playing, you weren’t sure. You swallowed down your nerves and slipped inside.

You were hit with the suffocating atmosphere of the place, the smell of alcohol and smoke stronger than before, music already blasting, bass rattling your chest and almost deafening you. Glowing lights in the dark blurred with moving masses of bodies, laughter meddling with rugged voices as you tried to make your way further front, sliding along the wall, shoulder against the graffitied bricks.. 

You spotted some wooden boxes in a corner and made your way to them. Perfect. You shamelessly climbed on them, granting yourself a place to sit and see the stage. 

Whoever was there wasn’t Hobie yet, but the music was good. You nodded your head to the rhythm, a thoughtful smile gracing your lips. The crowd swayed and surged, like a living, breathing thing. Some danced with abandon, their limbs flailing wildly, while others simply bobbed in place, their heads nodding in time with the music.

Soon enough, another band was called for, and your heart raced as you scanned the stage cautiously for a familiar silhouette. When your eyes landed on Hobie, you couldn’t contain the excitement bubbling in your stomach, cheering the rest of the crowd. He strode across the stage like he owned the place, his movements effortless and magnetic. It was the same way he moved through your apartment or the flower shop, that unshakable confidence oozing from his every step.

He wasn’t the frontman, someone else had that role, commanding the mic with probably equal charisma, but your eyes were on Hobie, and him only. He adjusted the strap of his guitar with ease, his lips curling in a smirk as he plucked the first few notes, his piercings catching the light from the spots. His body swayed with the music, his head tilting back as he played. 

And you couldn’t look away.

A mix of awe and pride made your heart beat faster, matching the tempo of their drummer, and you hung to each note tugged on both the strings of his guitar and of your heart.

He looked so at ease, so completely in his element, and it hit you like a freight train—this was his home. This was where he was meant to be.

You weren’t sure when it started, but at some point, your throat tightened, and your eyes burned. You blamed the lights, the smoke, the intensity of it all, but deep down, you knew. Seeing him like this, so free, so unapologetically himself, made your chest ache in the best way possible.

You didn’t miss one second of his performance, barely blinking. During the short moment between songs, you saw his eyes scan the crowd and part of you hoped it was you he was looking for. But up on your dark corner, away from the blinding spots, you knew he couldn’t see you.

When the set ended, you forced yourself off your makeshift seat, weaving through the sea of bodies. Hobie had told you his band usually hung around after, so you had to find him.

That proved to be harder than expected, and you were getting pushed around on the way. The room felt tighter now, the music louder as you were jostled left and right. It was harder to find him there, in the overwhelming sea of punks. 

Someone much taller than you stumbled toward the bar, bumping into you hard enough to send you straight into a solid figure.

“Watch out mate—” Hobie started, turning to steady whoever had crashed into him, but his expression shifted the moment he saw you. His smile flickered from amusement to something softer, and the warmth in his eyes eased the sting in your nose. "Oh. Hey."

Before you could respond, his gaze flicked over your face, his smile dropping slightly. "You alright?"

Many conflicting feelings bubbled up in your throat, excitement, relief, but your nose still stung from the impact, and you realized—too late—that your eyes were glossy.

You didn't even have time to think of an answer, before his fingers found your wrist. “Come on.”

He didn’t wait for permission. One second you were in the club, the next, the cold air slapped your face as he dragged you outside. Your tears finished to smear the eyeliner Hobie had so proudly smudged onto your eyes earlier.

“What happened?” Hobie asked, his brows furrowed. “Some prick shove you too hard?"

“No—No. I’m fine,” you managed, as you tried to swallow the lump in your throat. “I’m alright.” 

“Then why are you bloody cryin’?” He asked and you felt the slight panic in his voice.

“I’m not sure,” you babbled, wiping your face, “I just really liked your show.”

Hobie blinked.“Yer cryin’ because you liked the show?” He sounded slightly confused. “We play punk, not tragedies!” He exclaimed, still a little worried, but amusement started to mendel in as it looked like there was no serious issue. “You scared me for a sec’. Didn’t think our music was that bad.”

You let out a small laugh. “Sorry. I just… I don’t know. That was moving.”

“I mean, I get it,” he quipped, his grin widening, “Overthrowin’ capitalism could bring me to tears too.” 

You let out a shaky chuckle, and he pulled you closer, his voice dippin’ back down. “Are you sure yer alright?”

You nodded fiercely. “I loved it, really. It was so amazing.” 

He hummed, unable to hide that your reaction, although unexpected and a bit dramatic, touched him deeply. His hands found your face, thumbs gently wiping underneath your eyes. “You really do look like the saddest raccoon.”

You lightly hit his chest, earning a quiet laugh. 

“Are you okay goin’ back inside? T’s freezing out ‘ere.” He commented softly, unsure if he should really take you back inside in case you were overwhelmed. 

You nodded, eager to feel the warmth again, and he led you back, this time keeping close. His hand occasionally brushed yours—not quite holding, but there.

“Oi, here comes our guitarist!” A huge guy with a green mohawk called out, and before Hobie could react, he had yanked him into a mess of half-hugs and slaps on the back, to which he answered by pulling him in a headlock. You remembered him being the frontman. Not that you really focused on him.

His bandmates spotted him immediately, their energy still crackling from the set. 

You could barely distinguish the mess of people, even less the limits of bodies or facial features. You hovered a few steps away, unsure whether to try and insert yourself or just wait by the side. You loved seeing him interact with his friends, he was so different and at the same time the exact same. He was just much more playful, shoving and grabbing easily. 

“This is your mystery guest?” A man leaned against the bar, his brown mullet sticking to his forehead, pointing right at you. He looked you up and down with an exaggerated nod of approval. “Thought you were makin’ ‘em up, mate.”

“Right? The way he talks, we figured you were imaginary.” A woman with a side shave and gorgeous curls added. You saw her on stage too. Nerves were eating you alive faced with all that attention. “I really like your eye makeup. Very avant-garde.” She added, as Hobie pulled his arm over your shoulders to bring you in the circle, and you unconsciously pressed against him, grateful he was saving you from the interactions. You just  gave your customer-friendly smile, hoping it was good enough. 

“Yeah, t’s proper romantic, the way he goes on. Got us all choked up!” The guy with the mullet said, idly swirling his drink in his hand. Your face burned, but Hobie interrupted you before you could say anything.

“Shut it, Karl.” He groaned, clicking his tongue. His thumb gently rolled against your shoulders, hoping to ease your nerves.

“Oohh, shut it, Karl,” the guy with the green mohawk mocked in a high-pitched voice. He playfully shoved Hobie, and let his arm pull him a near-headlock he barely dodged. 

The woman smirked, shifting closer to you. Her voice was so soft and alluring and you swore you could hear her clearly despite the deafening noise. “Are you sure Hobie’s not your partner or something? Cause he’s actin’ like a proper schoolboy.”

Your brain stalled. “What? No? I mean, we’re just—”

“Oi, don’t do this to ‘em,” Hobie grumbled, rubbing his forehead.

Karl, completely ignoring him, slung an arm around your shoulder, a bit gentler than he did his friends, grinning. “Don’t worry, love, we’ll take good care of ya. Hobie’s a pain in the arse, but he’s got exceptional taste.”

Hobie swatted him away with a muttered “piss off”, but you barely noticed. Your head was still spinning from everything that was happening at the same time. 

Before you could dwell on it, someone shoved a drink into your hand. 

“Here, have a taste,” Mohawk grinned, way too pleased with himself.

You took a sip, and immediately choked. The whole group laughed, even the woman although she at least tried to stifle it.

“Yeah, yeah, give the newbie the strongest thing ‘ere, real original,” Hobie deadpanned, plucking the drink from your hands before you could suffer further. He took a sip himself, barely reacting.

You were still coughing, “What the hell was that?”

Hobie sighed dramatically. “An’ you lot wonder why I don’t bring people ‘round.”

The laughter only grew louder. You felt warm, dizzy, not from the drink, but from this. The noise, the heat, the way Hobie lingered closer without ever quite touching you.

You learned the names of his bandmates, beside Karl, Robbie with the green mohawk and Riri the gorgeous bass player. Conversations followed, most you zoned out of.

By the time Hobie pulled you away, you weren’t sure if your lightheadedness was from the alcohol or from him. 

Once again, the wind made your cheeks sting, and you tightened Hobie’s jacket around you. A comfortable silence stretched between you, only interrupted by the sounds of your steps and the occasional music coming from bars around. 

Neither of you dared to break it, until you reached your flat, shuffling for the warmth inside. 

You took off your shoes and he untied his tall boots, both of you exhausted. You snacked on whatever was in the fridge before making a way to the mattress. 

“D’you like the jacket?” He asked, watching you take off the jacket you stole from him. You gave a shy smile.

“I thought it’d fit the place more than anything I own.”

“Anything would’ve fitted.” He said earnestly, and it made your smile widen. After a short silence, his own slightly faded. “Tell me if I’m pushin’, but you are sure nothin’ happened to make you cry?” 

When you were done, your eyes found his again, and he was a little dumbfounded by your rambling. His guard kept slipping around you, and he didn’t feel like keeping it up tonight. 

You felt slightly embarrassed at your earlier display of tears. He looked so worried. “No, it was just… I’m not fully sure, I guess I was overwhelmed by all the noise and the lights and the people. And seeing you up there, so…” You paused searching for your words, too tired to care about hiding your admiration. Deep down, you knew he already knew anyway, he saw the pages of your sketchbooks and he would’ve had to be blind to not see the stolen glances. “So amazing and cool and free. It’s like something clicked, y’know?” You kept going on, speaking your thoughts out loud helping you to make sense of them. “Sometimes it’s hard to figure you out, but not when you’re on stage. You seemed so happy, so in your place. I was proud, and… I don’t know. I broke down.”

“Mh.” He crawled closer to you, his weight shifting the mattress underneath you. “Ya just can’t help but pull stuff like that on me,” his voice much lower and quieter than usual, “I’m not goin’ to be able to take it much longer, ya realize?” 

You tilted your head. “What?”

“You make me so fuckin’ nervous,” he finally muttered. 

You gulped, his name escaped your lips and his eyebrows furrowed. His fingers nervously rubbed the line off of his forehead before reaching for yours, and you felt your hands go clammy and your pulse quicken. It beat in your throat, in your temples, in your chest, in your wrists as your hands laced together. Your eyes searched for his, unsure yet full of something you didn’t grasp fully.

“It’s like you have no idea what you do to me, I’m tryin’ not to lose my goddamn mind, and here you are, makin’ it bloody impossible.” He let out, his softer tone betraying his vulnerability. You were frozen in place, unsure if he was scolding you or something else you didn’t let yourself think to avoid getting your hopes up.

“See, I’m tryin’ to act cool, and then— then you look at me like -this-,” he rubbed the tip of his nose, almost hiding his face for a second, “and then I’m just done for. Can’t think. Can’t really breathe either, y’know?”

Hell, you knew very well, and at that moment, you couldn’t really breathe or think either. You just stared at him, eyes wide shifting between his left and right eye as if you’ll decipher something else in them. His fingers twitched between yours, and he looked like he regretted his words already. Your hands felt cold as he tried to let go, and you just reached back for him, almost in an act of desperation. 

He let you go, and you shuffled inches closer, your brain mushy and your ears still ringing from the club. You didn’t have time to process your own pining, but you had to face the reality of your feelings, and the warmth that pooled in your veins at his words. 

“Hobie,” you called softly, almost scared to pronounce his name. “Don’t pull away from me.” Your murmur barely reached his ears. Your gaze fell down to his lips, but you forced it back up to his eyes. The distant muffled noise from the city below didn’t help to drown out your thoughts, all running miles a minute. “Can I?” Your voice cracked under your words. 

A flicker of surprise crossed his face before he nodded and you felt a portion of the weight alleviate. You leaned closer, legs tangling together. You did let go of his hands, but only to find the nape of his neck. You felt his eyes on you, heavy lidded, watching all of your movements, almost unsure. You closed yours and let your lips brush against his. Everything paused for a moment, and you felt your stomach move in ways it wasn’t supposed to. 

His hands found your sides, grounding you as he leaned in, the cold metal of his piercing a jarring contrast to the warmth spreading through your chest. When you pulled away, he was looking at you with an expression you never saw on him before. His eyes were half lidded, so soft, almost dazed. You wanted to imprint that vision in your memory forever.

He leaned in again, the tip of his nose brushing your cheek in a tender gesture, his arms on your sides now fully wrapping around you and pulling you in. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

tags: @hoe-bie

Been struggling with this one for a while, I hope there isn't any major mistakes or inconsistencies!

edit: there was in fact major mistakes and lots of repetitions, most of them should be corrected now, sorry for those who had to read it before!

[jazzy96scorpio]

His Forbidden Equation

Chapter 1 A Cosmic Chemistry

Description: A scorching affair ignites between a professor Reed Richards and his student [You], pushing the boundaries of propriety and exploring the intoxicating chemistry of forbidden passion.

Pairing: You / Reed Richards Mr. Fantastic

Warnings ⚠️ : adult content, SMUT, dirty talk, oral sex (m/f rec), unprotected sex, sex, slow burn, so much teasing and tension.

Word count: 2500

I hope so you are gonna enjoy in reading. I writed this quickly. ❣️

Part 1 * Scientific Seduction

The lab hummed, that low, constant thrum that vibrated through your shoes and up into your bones.  It was the soundtrack to cutting-edge science, the kind of background noise you got used to.  Senior year, you were practically buzzing with nervous excitement, tagging along with a bunch of other students on a visit to the astrophysics lab at ESU.  Astronaut. 

The word hung in your mind, a distant, glittering star you were reaching for with everything you had. And this lab, with all its crazy equipment and the thick air of brainpower, felt like one tiny step closer. Especially since he was here.

Reed Richards. Seriously.  The Reed Richards. You knew all about his… extracurriculars, his whole Fantastic Four thing. But here, in the halls of ESU, he was Professor Richards, just a ridiculously brilliant guy trying to figure out the universe.

He was talking about stellar evolution, his voice kind of dreamy and intense. He pointed at this swirling, pulsing holographic image of a star collapsing, all vibrant colors. You were totally mesmerized.  So much so, you almost missed him looking over at…you.

It wasn't a big, dramatic stare or anything. Just a quick glance, his eyes, usually miles away, locking onto yours for a second.  But something weird happened in that second.  Like a little spark.  Maybe it was how focused you were, practically glued to the hologram, or maybe it was just random.  Whatever it was, he stopped talking, kind of furrowed his brow like he was trying to solve some crazy equation.

"You got a question?" he asked, looking right at you.

Your heart did this weird little jump.

All the other students turned to look, and suddenly you felt super self-conscious, like, you were going to ask Reed Richards a question?

You mumbled, "I...I was just thinking about the Chandrasekhar limit..."

He smiled, a real, genuine smile that made crinkles around his eyes, and for a second, he just looked like a regular guy, not a scientific legend. "Good question. Most students are still trying to get the basics down. What about it grabs you?"

And just like that, you were talking.  He didn't talk down to you, even though you were just a student, a tiny speck in his universe of knowledge. He actually listened to your questions, like they mattered, and you guys got into this whole thing about theoretical possibilities, even some of his own, more… out there ideas.

He saw how into it you were, that burning need to understand everything, to touch the stars.  And in that moment, with the lab humming and the holographic stars glowing, your worlds bumped into each other.

As the other students filed out, a little disappointed the session was over, Professor Richards turned to you. 

"Would you mind staying for a moment?" he asked.

"I'd like to talk more about some of the things you brought up."

You were beyond flattered.  He wanted to talk to you?  It felt like the universe was tilting on its axis. 

He saw something in you, something beyond just another student, and the thought made your heart flutter.

"My name is [Y/N]," you managed, a little breathless.

"It's a pleasure, [Y/N]," he replied, his eyes meeting yours.

The lab emptied, the heavy door clicking shut behind the last of the departing students, leaving just the two of you surrounded by the silent machinery.

You felt like a kid in a candy store, all wide-eyed and buzzing with curiosity. And he seemed genuinely happy to answer every single one of your questions, no matter how small. He really listened, his brow furrowed as he considered your thoughts.

"You have a remarkable grasp of these concepts for someone your age," he said, a genuine note of admiration in his voice. "Your insights are…refreshing."

You felt your cheeks flush. 

"Thank you," you murmured.

He genuinely seemed to enjoy your company, his initial reserve melting away as your shared passion for the cosmos took over.  You mentioned you were working on your graduation essay, and his eyes lit up.  "What's your topic?" he asked.

When you told him, he offered to help, suggesting some further reading and offering to guide you through some of the more complex theories.

"It would be my pleasure," he said, that warm smile of his making you feel like you were the only person in the universe.

There was something in the air, a little shift in the vibe.  A definite tension, a little spark of… something...that you were feeling too. His gaze kept drifting over to you, lingering a little too long. He seemed kind of fascinated by something – maybe your dress, or the bright red lipstick you’d gone for that day. His eyes, usually so focused on faraway galaxies, had this intensity that made you a little breathless. You could feel his breath hitch as he moved closer, a subtle change in the air pressure that gave you goosebumps.

But just as things were getting interesting, the lab door swung open. "Reed?" a voice called out.

It was Sue Richards. You knew her instantly. You gave a polite smile and a hello, and she smiled back, her eyes briefly checking you out. A quick, almost invisible flicker crossed her face before she turned to her husband.

"Honey, I just wanted to..." she started, then paused, her eyes flicking back to you.

You introduced yourself.

"Nice to meet you," she said, her voice polite but cool.

"You too," you replied.

You grabbed your stuff, feeling a weird mix of disappointment and relief. As you headed for the door, you couldn't help but notice Reed watching you go.

You gave a small, polite goodbye, and then you were out of there, the hum of the lab fading behind you.

That day was seared into your memory. You couldn't shake the way he looked at you, the heat radiating from his smile.

You'd managed to snag his number – a little strategic searching into his department – and finally worked up the nerve to call. He answered, his voice a little rough, and said he was "very much looking forward" to seeing you in class on Friday. The way he said it… a shiver ran down your spine.

❤️‍🔥

Friday arrived, and you practically floated to the lab. He greeted you with that familiar warm smile, his eyes lingering a little too long. A couple of other students were there, but they left after you arrived, leaving you two alone. He was incredibly kind, almost…chatty. He asked about your essay, and you two launched into this intense discussion about the universe, dark matter, the expansion of space, the whole shebang. His passion was contagious.

You were hanging on his every word, but honestly, you could barely focus on the science. Your mind was a mess. He was so damn handsome, and a fire was starting to build inside you. You couldn't help but notice his gaze drifting downwards, just for a millisecond, under the table on your legs probably.

He’d lean in closer, asking, “Are you paying attention?” You’d nod, repeating his last sentence perfectly, your voice a little husky.

At one point, he walked over to a green board covered in equations and diagrams.

"You know," he said, picking up a chalk, "there's this theory about spacetime being like a fabric, and massive objects create these…warps, like a bowling ball on a trampoline. And those warps, those are what we experience as gravity."

He drew a quick sketch, a kind of dented grid with a sphere in the middle. "It's still just a theory, of course, but… fascinating, isn't it?"

You nodded, pretending to follow along, but your mind was elsewhere.  His proximity, the way his voice resonated when he talked about the things he loved, it was intoxicating.

Then, the game began. You pulled out your notebook. “Could you just take a quick look at something?” you asked, all innocence.

He moved to stand beside you, leaning down so close you could feel his breath on your neck. His hand brushed against yours as he pointed at something in your notes. His eyes flicked down, just for a heartbeat, to your chest, before landing on your lips. You knew he was fighting it, this undeniable pull.

You were playing with fire. And you knew your perfume, your whole vibe, was driving him absolutely wild. But you weren't done yet.

You stood up, leaned in close, whispering something absolutely filthy in his ear.

"I've been thinking about you all week, Professor," you breathed, your voice low and husky. "And all the things I want to do to you… they're definitely not in the textbook."

You felt him stiffen, his breath catching in his throat.

Then, you leaned in and kissed his neck, right at the collar of his shirt, leaving a bright red lipstick mark. He froze, completely still. You looked at him, a small, satisfied smile playing on your lips.

"Thank you for the lesson, Professor," you said, your voice dripping with playful menace. "See you next Friday."

And then you left.

He stood there, totally speechless, probably with a raging hard-on. He had no clue what just hit him, but he definitely, definitely wanted more.

🥵👅

The following Friday felt like an eternity.  You replayed the previous week's encounter in your head countless times, the memory of Reed's stunned expression fueling a thrill of anticipation. You knew you were playing a dangerous game, toying with a man who was both brilliant and, you suspected, deeply intrigued by the forbidden.

You arrived at the lab a few minutes early, giving yourself time to compose yourself.  He was already there, standing by the green board.

He looked up as you entered, his eyes meeting yours. The air crackled with an almost palpable energy.  He didn't smile, not immediately. That little lipstick mark on his collar last week?  Pure genius. You knew you had him hooked.

"You're early," he said, his voice a low rumble..

"I was eager to continue our…discussion," you replied, your gaze locking with his.

He nodded slowly.  "Indeed.  I've been giving your… theories… considerable thought."

The other students trickled in, and the lesson officially started, but the tension between you and Reed was electric. He kept making these little asides, disguised as explanations, but you knew they were just for you.  Like when he was talking about gravitational lensing and said, "Imagine light bending around an object… kind of like how your presence bends my… attention."  Smooth, Professor, real smooth. you thought.

After the other students had left, Reed turned to you, a flicker of something dangerous in his eyes. "I believe," he said, his voice low, "we have some unfinished business."

You stepped closer, the space between you shrinking until you could feel the heat radiating from his body. 

"Indeed, Professor," you whispered, your hand reaching out to trace the line of his jaw.  "We do."

He inhaled sharply, his breath catching in his throat.  He reached for you, his fingers brushing against your skin, sending shivers down your spine.  "You're playing a dangerous game, [Y/N]," he murmured, his voice husky.

"I'm not afraid of danger," you replied, your eyes meeting his. 

"Especially when the reward is so… tempting."

He chuckled, a low, throaty sound that sent a thrill through you.  "And what reward do you have in mind?" he asked, his eyes burning into yours.

You leaned in closer, your lips brushing against his ear.  "That, Professor," you whispered, "is something you'll have to discover for yourself."

His hand tightened on your arm, pulling you closer.  "I have a feeling," he said, his voice barely a whisper, "that I'm going to enjoy this discovery very much."

He closed the remaining distance between you, his hands cupping your face.

"I think," you replied, your voice barely a whisper, "You're about to find out."  And then you kissed him. 

It wasn't a shy, tentative kiss. It was a full-on, electric kiss, all that pent-up tension finally finding release. 

He groaned into the kiss, his hands tangling in your hair.

"About reward," he muttered against your lips.

"Yes, Professor?" you said, pulling back slightly. "Do you want it?"

He was a little unsure.

"I…I'm married, I can't" he said, a flicker of guilt crossing his face.

"You're not going to cheat if you don't put your dick inside me," you purred, a playful glint in your eyes. "Besides, isn't scientific discovery all about pushing boundaries? Exploring uncharted territories? Consider this…fieldwork."

You winked, the image of his long fingers tracing the curve of your hip flashing through your mind.

"Purely for research purposes, of course."

He couldn't endure more. He took your hand, his grip firm, and led you into a small  room tucked away in the lab. The door clicked shut behind you.

He turned, his eyes burning with a hunger that mirrored your own. He kissed you, then, a deep, passionate kiss that stole your breath and set your pulse racing.

You kneeled down, your fingers deftly unbuckling his belt. He was so impatient, a low groan rumbling in his chest.

"Do you want this, Professor?" you asked, your voice husky with desire.

"Yes," he breathed, his voice thick with longing. "God, yes. I want you so badly. I've been…obsessed."

You pulled down his boxers, revealing a thick, hard length that throbbed with anticipation. His cock was magnificent, a dark, veiny masterpiece. You cupped him in your hand, marveling at his size and heat.

You kissed the tip, then licked and swirled your tongue around, teasing him. He groaned, his hands gripping your hair, his hips thrusting involuntarily. He was so close. He whispered your name, a desperate plea.

Then, you took him deeper, harder, your mouth engulfing him completely. You gagged slightly on his impressive length, your saliva slicking his skin. You continued your movements, your mouth working magic as your hand stroked him rhythmically. He gasped, his breath ragged. "Don't stop," he begged, "I'm… I'm gonna…"

You opened your mouth, your tongue darting out to tease his swollen head. With your right hand, you gripped him firmly and jerked off, just as he came in a rush of hot, thick cum that coated your tongue and lips. His release was explosive. He watched, his eyes glazed, as you swallowed him down, your mouth glistening..

"Damn," he breathed, his voice thick with lust. "You're incredible."

"I aim to please, Professor," you replied, a sly smile playing on your lips. "Though I must admit, your…cock… is quite remarkable."

He handed you a tissue, his eyes still half-closed. You cleaned yourself, then he pulled you close and kissed you again, a slow, lingering kiss that tasted of him.

"You taste… delicious," he murmured against your lips.

"So do you," you whispered back, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw.

But he didn't want to stop, he wants to feel you.

He pulled up your dress, his hand slipping beneath the fabric and into your panties. He gently eased them down to your knees, his fingers brushing against your swollen clit. You were soaked, slick with anticipation. He lifted you onto a nearby lab table, your legs dangling. He knelt between them and licked you, his tongue tracing every curve and fold, exploring every inch of your swollen pussy.

He lapped at you, his tongue a hot, insistent flame, sending shivers of pleasure through you.

"You're so wet for me," he groaned, his breath hot against your core. He teased your clit with his tongue, circling it slowly, building the pressure until you were whimpering with need.

"Tell me what you want," he whispered, his voice a low growl.

"Keep doing that," you moaned, your hips lifting to meet his tongue. "I want you to taste me, every inch of me."

He slipped two fingers inside you.

You moaned saying "Yes…yes… more…"

Then he slipped three fingers, his strokes slow and deliberate, and with his thumb rubbed your clit driving you wild.

You came, hard and fast, your body convulsing as you reached a shattering orgasm. "Oh, fuck!" you gasped, your nails digging into his shoulders.

"Good girl," he murmured, his voice rough with passion. He leaned in and kissed you, a kiss that was both passionate and tender, laced with the raw hunger that still pulsed between you. "You have no idea," he whispered against your lips, "how long I've been wanting to do that. You're going to drive me absolutely insane."

"That's the general idea, Professor," you purred, a wicked glint in your eyes.

"Consider it… a continuing education."

After you left the small room, a little breathless and flushed, you started gathering your things, a satisfied smirk playing on your lips. 

Just then, the lab door swung open and Sue Richards stood there again, her expression unreadable.  Reed visibly stiffened, a flicker of something – was it guilt? – crossing his face.

He was definitely suspicious.  And she was maybe a little… jealous? She notices the way he looked at you, a mixture of desire and something more, made her pulse quicken.

"Reed," Sue said, her voice cool and measured.

"I… I forgot my notebook.  Have you seen it?"

"No, honey, I haven't," he replied, his voice a little too casual, a little too high-pitched.  He avoided eye contact, focusing on some papers on the desk.

"Really?" she asked, her gaze flickering between you and him.  "Because I could have sworn I left it in here."

The air crackled with tension. You could feel Sue's eyes on you, assessing, questioning.  You met her gaze, offering a polite smile.

"Perhaps it's in your office, Sue," you suggested, your voice calm and professional. "I know I sometimes misplace things when I'm deep in thought."

"Maybe," she said, still looking at you. "Or maybe someone else moved it."  Her tone was pointed.

Reed cleared his throat. "Honey, don't be ridiculous. [Y/N] and I were just discussing…stellar dynamics. Quite complex stuff."  He put an arm around Sue, a little too tightly, you thought.

"Stellar dynamics?" Sue raised an eyebrow.  "At this hour?  And in this room?"

"Yes," Reed said quickly. "We needed a quiet space to… to work through some equations."

"Right," Sue said, her voice laced with skepticism.  She looked at you again, her eyes narrowed.

"Well," you said, breaking the tense silence, "thank you for the enlightening lesson, Professor Richards. It was, as always, a pleasure." You gathered your things, maintaining a professional demeanor despite the stormy emotions swirling within you. "Good evening, Sue."

"Good evening," Sue replied, her voice cool.

As you walked out of the lab, you could feel their eyes on your back. You didn't turn around.  You walked with your head held high, a secret smile playing on your lips.

That day, you felt… powerful.  Intoxicating. Damn, that was fun.  And you were definitely, definitely, not done with Reed Richards. Not by a long shot. That little taste of forbidden fruit?  It just made you crave the whole damn orchard.

Reed's POV .

I lay in bed next to Sue, the silence between us thick and uncomfortable. She’d been quiet all evening, a storm brewing in her eyes. Finally, she turned to me, her voice low and dangerous

"What's going on with you and that… girl?" she asked, her gaze piercing.

I stiffened. "What girl?" I feigned innocence, even though my heart was hammering against my ribs.

"Don't play dumb, Reed," she snapped. "You know exactly who I'm talking about. [Y/N]. What is she doing with you so late at the lab? Why are you two so… close?"

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "She's a student, Sue. A very bright student. We've been discussing some advanced concepts. That's all."

"It doesn't look like 'all' to me," she retorted, her voice rising. "I saw the way she looked at you. And the way you looked at her."

I felt a flush creeping up my neck. Damn. I’d been so careful, or so I thought.

"There's nothing going on, Sue," I insisted, my voice tight. "She's just… enthusiastic. About science."

"Enthusiastic enough to be meeting with you alone in a closed room?" she challenged, her eyes flashing. "I don't like it, Reed. I don't like it one bit."

I reached for her hand, trying to soothe her. "Honey, you're being paranoid. There's nothing to worry about. She's just a student."

"I don't want her around you anymore," she said, her voice firm. "I'm serious, Reed. I'm jealous."

I sighed again. This was getting complicated. I couldn't deny the pull I felt towards [Y/N]. She was… intoxicating. But Sue was my wife. I loved her. I had to smooth things over.

"Okay, honey," I said, trying to sound reasonable. "If it bothers you that much, I won't give her any more extra lessons. Happy?"

She studied me for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Finally, she nodded. "Yes," she said. "That would make me happy."

I fell asleep that night, but it was a restless sleep. My thoughts kept drifting back to [Y/N].

Her lips on mine, the way she’d looked at me, the taste of her… I woke up in the middle of the night, hard as a rock, my dreams filled with images of her. I groaned, frustrated and aroused.

The next day, I was at the college with the rest of the Fantastic Four, making an appearance. I spotted her across the room, talking to some other students. Just seeing her sent a jolt of electricity through me. I had to talk to her, just for a minute.

I managed to pull her aside, away from the crowd. We were alone in hallway.

"I… I can't give you any more lessons," I said, my voice tight. "My wife… she's not comfortable with it."

She just smiled, a knowing, almost predatory smile that sent shivers down my spine.

"Aw, is the big, bad Reed Richards afraid of his wife?" she teased, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

"It's not like that," I protested weakly.

"Sure it isn't, Professor," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Your wife is a little jealous, I see."

I looked away, unable to meet her gaze. "Look, it's just… complicated."

"I understand," she said, her smile widening.

"If you don't want to see me anymore, that's fine."

I almost breathed a sigh of relief. Almost.

But then, she did something that made my blood run cold and hot at the same time. She reached under her skirt and pulled her panties down, tugging them inside my pants, right against my cock.

I gasped, my breath catching in my throat.

She leaned in and kissed me, a hard, possessive kiss that left me reeling. She licked my lips, a teasing flick of her tongue.

"Keep that as a gift, Professor," she whispered, her voice husky.

"A little reminder of what you're missing."

And then she was gone, leaving me standing there, shocked and breathless, my heart pounding in my chest. I could feel the soft fabric of her panties pressed against my cock, a burning reminder of her. I was going wild. I wanted her so badly it was a physical ache. I was going to lose my mind.

🎀

You leave the professor a little thrill buzzing through you. As you walk, you bump into Johnny Storm. He's cute, charming, and clearly interested. You chat for a bit, the conversation flowing easily, and he asks you out for drinks. You accept. It's not just that he's fun to be around; he's Sue's brother, and the thought of making Reed just a little bit jealous is definitely a bonus.

That week, you and Johnny get closer. You go out a few times, laughing and having a good time. You haven't seen Reed since your little "lesson," but you know he's thinking about you. You can feel it.

Then, Johnny invites you over to his place for dinner. You know Sue and Reed will be there, and honestly, you're kind of looking forward to it. Johnny had told them he was bringing a friend, but they definitely weren't expecting you.

The surprise on their faces when you walk in? Priceless. And Reed… oh, Reed. The jealousy radiating off him is palpable. .

You're wearing your best wiggle dress, the one that makes you feel like a million bucks, and you can practically see the heat in his eyes.

Dinner is… tense. Johnny is his usual charming self, totally clueless to the tension in the air.

He tells them how you met at college, how much he likes you. Reed is sitting across from you, his gaze intense, and you decide to have a little fun.

Casually, you slip off your shoe and start rubbing your foot against his leg, right over his crotch. You can feel him getting hard under the table. Sue has gone to the kitchen to get dessert, and Johnny popped off to the bathroom.

You're alone.

"What the hell are you doing?" he hisses, his voice low and strained.

"Missing you, Professor," you purr, your foot still moving against him. "You know you've been thinking about me too."

He's practically vibrating with need.

"Have you… have you been with Johnny?" he asks, his voice tight with jealousy.

"Not yet," you say, your eyes locking with his. "Maybe tonight."

His jaw clenches. "Don't," he growls. "Don't you dare let him touch you."

"Or what?" you challenge, your smile playful.

"I'll… I'll…" He trails off, his eyes burning with desire.

"You'll what, Professor?" you whisper, leaning closer. "Confess that you want me so badly you can't stand it?"

He doesn't say anything, but his eyes say it all. Soon after Johnny came back. You wanted to leave.

"I… I have to go," you say, standing up. "I'm not feeling well."

"I'll drive you," Johnny offers, concern etched on his face.

"No, it's okay," you say, giving him a sweet smile. "I'm just down the street." You turn to Reed, your eyes sparkling with mischief. "See you later, Professor."

You see the look in his eyes as you leave. Pure hunger. He's going wild.

Part 2 The Professor's Secret

You walk down the street, almost to the lab, when you hear his car pull up beside you. He jumps out, grabs your hand, and practically drags you inside. The lab is empty, the only light coming from the dim emergency lights. He slams the door shut behind you.

"You're driving me crazy," he says, his voice rough. "I can't… I can't stop thinking about you. I want you so badly."

He kissed you, a raw, desperate kiss, and then scooped you up, his arms strong and sure. With one hand, he cleared his desk, sending papers and equipment crashing to the floor. You grinned at him, a wicked glint in your eyes. "Someone's eager," you purred, your voice husky with desire.

You reached for his tie, pulling him closer. "Tell me what you want, Professor," you whispered, your breath hot against his lips. "I want to hear it."

"I want you," he growled, his voice thick with lust. "Your sweet pussy…I need it so bad. I wanna fill you up with my cock."

He kissed you again, harder this time, his hands moving over your body, impatient. He ripped his shirt open, the buttons popping off, and then he helped you with your dress, his fingers fumbling with the zipper. Your bra followed, and then, with a sharp rip, your panties were gone.

"Naughty girl," he muttered, his eyes burning as he checked you out. "Gonna get punished."

You reached for his belt, your fingers working quickly to undo it. His cock sprang free, thick and hard, pulsing with need. You cupped him in your hand, teasing him with your thumb, circling the tip as he leaked a drop of precum. "Mmm, you're ready for me, aren't you, Professor?" you whispered, your voice laced with playful menace. 

"Gonna spill all your secrets?"

You leaned against the desk, offering yourself to him. He gripped your waist with his large hands, pulling you close, his fingers digging into your flesh. He entered you hard, his thrusts deep and urgent.  "Fuck," he groaned, his eyes rolling back.  "You feel so good."

He squeezed your breasts, his lips closing over a nipple, sucking hard.  "So fucking tight," he repeated, his voice thick with lust. He moved inside you, slower now, each thrust a delicious torture. He was so big inside you, filling you completely, stretching you so good. You were on fire.  He was driving you wild.

"Oh, God," you moaned, your head thrown back. "Yes…fuck me, Reed. Harder."

He pulled back slightly. "Turn around," he commanded, his voice rough.

You obeyed, your back now to him. "You're a bad girl," he said, a smirk playing on his lips. He gave your ass cheek a light slap. "Teasing me like that."

He entered you from behind, his hands gripping your hips, pinning you against the desk. He was relentless, his thrusts deep and powerful. He was so close, you could feel him pulsing inside you.  He rubbed your clit, sending shivers of pleasure through you. You were dripping, slick and ready. You tightened around him, and then you came, a shattering orgasm that made you scream his name. "Reed!" you cried out, your body convulsing. "Oh, fuck, yess!"

He pulled out, his cum spurting onto your ass. He groaned, his body going rigid for a moment before relaxing in your arms. He cleaned you up, his touch surprisingly gentle. Then, he kissed you, a tender kiss that spoke of something more than just lust.

"I…I care about you," he whispered, his voice hoarse.

"I care about you too," you replied, your heart swelling with emotion.

Then, he kissed you, a sweet kiss that meant more than just sex.

You got dressed, the memory of his touch still lingering on your skin. He drove you home. In car he touched your leg, his fingers tracing the curve of your calf. 

"God, you are incredible," he breathed, his eyes full of passion. "I enjoyed every single second. I don't regret this, not one bit."

"Me neither," you whispered, your heart doing a little flip.

He kissed you one last time on your doorway, a lingering kiss that left you breathless. "We should keep this our little secret," he murmured.

"Agreed," you whispered, your lips still tingling from his kiss. "Our little secret." You knew this was just the beginning.

Thank you for the reading 💜

Please like, reblog or comment ❣️

[malsmind]

more than we thought

a bsf!mat xbsf!reader series by @ 𝓂𝒶𝓁𝓈𝓂𝒾𝓃𝒹

chapter 1

warnings: swearing, slight flirting

wc: 1.5k

english is not my first language!

unexpectedly, you and matt met on the east coast, where you both lived a few years back, making your first actual and geniuine bond of friendship with the triplets when you were fifteen and they were seventeen. you got along with his brothers, then they inroduced you to matt. it just clicked. the both of you got along instantly, the same interests you shared along with your and matts mental health, dealing with similar problems just made you feel understood, and he felt the same.

who would have thought that about four years later, you guys would share a bond thats even stronger, a friendship that you'd never want to lose.

creating content on the internet, making youtube videos.. it was a job that wasn't your cup of tea, but your closest friends loved it. you always supported them, every step of the way til this day, you were happy for them, it made you happy to see them so happy about it.

even when in 2022, when you were seventeen, and they were nineteen, they moved to Los Angeles.

they came to visit, obviously because of their family and friends. it was weird at first, not hanging out with them during the summer, not getting to go for late night drives with matt when school was draining you again, but it wasn't the worst. you knew you'd join them soon after you graduated, that's how you always planned it to be. when that day finally came, you were beyond excited, and so were nick, matt and chris. eventually, you did find your passion in making content on social media. not fully commited to it, but you still did your occaisonal little vlog, posted tiktoks, instagram dumps and appeared on your friends youtube channel every now and then. it was safe to say, you were happy in life. highschool sucked for you, you had friends, sure, but none that you'd actually feel happy around. no real friends, no friends that'd actually have you feeling like you had someone you could trust, laugh with, share memories with. so moving to LA to where your real friends were, getting your first own apartment, growing independent felt like a dream come true.

you were currently sat on matt's bed, looking for some decoration and furniture for your apartment. you moved in almost a year ago but you didn't get the chance to fully furnish and decorate your apartment yet. decisions on what you want and the various options making it harder than it needed to be.

"i can't find a good coffee table. they all just look the same." you sighed, throwing your phone aside and flopping down into matt's pile of pillows.

he turned around from where he was sat at his desk, playing fortnite with chris, taking a look at your phone display layed out with pictures of coffee tables. they indeed all looked the same. "well, you got any idea what you want specifically?" matt asked you, turning back around to face is screen. "anything that doesn't look like those right there. they look too modern and it's just not for me." you picked up your phone again, trying your luck on facebook marketplace, vinted, and other second hand places. vintage was always your way to go. the aesthetic fitting your personality just right. at the end of the day, your apartment was like your safe space, so your goal was to make it look cozy and feel like it too.

noticing you were now back into focusing on your deep dive on furniture, matt didn't say anything more. you scrolled for what felt like ages until you finally found your dream coffee table for your living room, a perfect match for the couch you had bought two months ago. you apbrubtly got up from matt's bed, holding your phone for him to look at your find. "oh my god. tell me this isn't the most PERFECT coffee table you've ever seen" matt turned his head, shoving his headset off on one side to be able to pay you more attention, his eyes squiting at the picture in front of him. "how much is that?"

"$200" you smiled, happy with your find.

"$200 for that old thing??" matt frowned at you as if trying to ask you if you were seriously going to spend that much money on it. "it's a fair price, dude." you returned his expression, turning your phone off and shoving it into your pocket. matt shrugged "you gonna go pick it up?"

"yup, you wanna come along?" you asked him, fixing your hair from laying on it for the past two hours. "yeah, lemme just finish this game" matt said, putting his headset back on, letting chris know too. you made your way out of matt's room, sitting down on the couch next to nick while waiting.

"nick look" you squealed, proud and happy of what you're about to pick up. nick looked up from his laptop, grabbing your phone and swiping trough the pictures. "oh my god, that's PERFECT for your living room!" nick exclaimed, matching your excitement. "literally what i said. i think plants by the wall next to the couch would look SO good with that coffee table in the room." you said, picturing it. nick agreed, handing you your phone back. "you wanna come along with me and matt and pick it up?" you asked nick, typing out a message for the seller to let him know you'll be on your way soon. "i gotta edit our friday video, sorry. but i'll come by when you got it!" nick offered and you nodded. "no worries."

matt's door opened and he walked up to you and nick, stretching. "you ready to head out?" he asked, nodding his head at you. you got up with a yes, waving goodbye to nick and making your way downstairs, matt following close. matt had picked you up earlier today, so your car was back at your place. he drove to the location put into the gps of the car, bobbing his head along to whatever song you put on aux. you were restless with excitement, admiring the pictures of the piece of furtniture that you were soon to call your own.

you arrived at the sellers place after about 15 minutes of driving, getting out of the car with a slight jump of happiness. matt shook his head with a chuckle, locking the car and following you. the coffee table looked just like it did on the photos, just perfect. after getting it into the car and driving to your place, you and matt carried it up into your apartment, placing it down on the rug in your living room. just how you imagined it, it looked perfect. you loved it. "it's so fucking perfect i'm gonna cry!" you chirped excitedly, hugging matt's side tightly. he hugged you back, matching your happiness. "still can't believe you spent $200 on it though."

"one hundred precent worth it and you know it" you smiled, proudly looking at your finally fully furnished living room area.

...

the soft sound of your spotify playlist coming from the TV filled the room, along with conversation between you and your friends. you were laying between matt's legs on the couch, the back of your head resting against his chest while talking to nick and chris. "i mean, it's technically the same fuckin' thing, no?" matt huffed, shrugging. "kid, no. a TV show takes so much more effort to like, get trough." chris spoke. "not really to be honest. if you fuck with it it's not gonna feel as dragging like it would when you don't, obviously."

"nah but still, i'd rather just watch a movie than dedicate a whole day to grinding episodes. like you fully plan your day out around watching a whole season of a TV show" chris argued.

you and nick both exchanged looks, trying to hold your laughter at the meaningless conversation between the other two. the argument about what's better to watch kept going on for a little while longer until it eventually died down.

for the late evening, all of you decided on doordashing some food, eating it while watching a movie. when the movie finished, everyone got up, matt tapped your shoulders that his hands were rested on, urging you to get up so he could too. you got up, stretching, matt matched your movements. "i'll probably be out tomorrow but i can swing by later on." you let them know and they nodded, making their way to the front door of your apartment. hugging you goodbye, nick and chris made their way to the car. matt hugged you, "text me when you guys get home" you mumbled into his hoodie, hugging him back.

you said your goodbyes to matt for the night, closing the door and making your way into the living room, cleaning up the empty cartons of pizza and cans of sodas.

finished with your nightly routine, wiping off your makeup and doing some skincare, you got into bed, picking up your phone.

series link (everything you need to know)

taglist

@grace-sturnz @rcklessheavn @sofia-is-a-sturniolo-triplet-fan @chrissturniolossidebitch

[darlingdaisyfarm]

the river splits but still runs home (Stan & Ford)

twins. like light split in two, a star cracked open in the womb and made two hands of the same body, reaching for each other before they even knew what hands were

it starts like this

a house where the salt spray eats the paint off the walls. their mother, Caryn, is standing in the kitchen, wrists deep in soapy water, humming some song neither of them know the words to. the windows are open and the ocean breathes in, breathes out, just like she taught them

Ford is at the table with his glasses slipping down his nose, chewing on the end of a pencil, something half-sketched in the margins of his notebook. Stan is on the floor, legs kicked out behind him, tongue stuck between his teeth as he wrestles a knotted fishing line into submission.

“you're gonna snap it,” Ford says without looking up.

“no, i'm not.”

“you're holding it wrong.”

“you're holding your face wrong!”

Caryn sighs, scrubbing a plate with the practiced hands of someone who has done this a thousand times before and will do it a thousand times more. “boys.” she says

Stan gives the line a particularly aggressive tug and. . . snap.

Ford looks up. Stan looks down.

Caryn turns, raising her eyebrows.

“. . . Ford did it” Stan says immediately.

Ford's mouth drops open. “i did not!”

“you were distracting me!”

“you're the one who broke it!”

“okay, okay,” their mother interrupts before it turns into a wrestling match. she dries her hands on a dishtowel and comes over, kneeling down next to her son Stanley. “let me see.”

Stan holds up the ruined line, eyes downcast. Caryn takes it, carefully untangling what's left, making something whole out of something broken.

“not a big deal,” she says calmly. “i've got another one in the drawer.”

Stan sniffs, rubbing at his nose with his sleeve. “i wanted to do it myself.”

“i know, baby,” she murmurs. she kisses the top of his head softly. ”you'll get it next time.”

Ford watches, silent. Stan exhales, some of the tension leaving his shoulders, the need to prove something wilting under their mother’s hand on his back.

“help me with dinner?” she asks, gently ruffling his hair.

“yeah,” Stanley answers, already halfway to forgetting. he scrambles to his feet, following her like a little shadow.

Ford watches them go. he pushes his glasses up his nose. picks up his pencil. finishes the half-sketched drawing.

the ocean breathes in, breathes out

the first time Ford tastes saltwater, it’s because his brother dunked him under the waves. it’s a game kids play when they don’t yet know the world is full of real drownings. Ford comes up coughing, spitting out the ocean, laughing loudly. Stan’s grin is wide and reckless.

“gotcha, poindexter!” he crows, hands still in the water, ready to do it again.

Ford shoves him back, not that hard but it makes Stan stumble and splash into the shallows. their mother calls from the shore, “boys, don’t go too deep!” but she’s smiling, and the wind carries her words off over the tide.

their mother, so young. her dark hair twisted up in a scarf, her dress fluttering, hands on her hips. she worries, always, but right now she lets the worry go. the ocean is big, but her boys are still here.

Ford wipes salt from his eyes. “you’re gonna pay for that, Stanley!”

“you can’t even catch me, four-eyes!”

and then they’re off, kicking up seafoam, yelling so loud they could wake up every gull on the shore. Ford chasing, Stan laughing, the two of them running so fast they forget about gravity, about time, about the fact that childhood ends.

Caryn watches from the shore, hand shading her eyes. her boys. her impossible boys. her heart aches just looking at them.

years later, one name will be stolen, the other lost in a machine meant to swallow men whole.

but she does not know that yet.

for now, her boys are hers.

“boys! dinner!”

two twins, Stan and Ford are already running, tangled together, because that's what twins do. they spill into the kitchen in one motion, laughing, shoving, too loud, too much. Caryn shakes her head but she's smiling.

“plates,” she reminds, tapping the counter, and Stan groans but Ford grabs them both.

their mother watches them eat as she asks. “what are you going to be when you grow up?”

Ford swallows his bite too fast, too excited to answer that. “an adventurer!” he says, as if he's thought about this every night before sleeping. (he has.) “a scientist. a— a traveler, maybe. i'll see things nobody's ever seen before!”

“and you, Stanley?”

Stan taps his fork against his plate. shrugs. “i dunno,” he says. “but wherever he goes, i'll go too.”

Ford looks at him. like the sun looks at the moon, like gravity itself, like there is no world in which they are apart. “yeah, yeah, of course.” he smiles at his twin

their mother closes her eyes. she wants to believe it. she hopes. god, she hopes.

she has a feeling, deep in her gut, that one day, Ford is going to go somewhere Stanley can’t follow.

they are eight, they are ten, they are twelve.

“you think,” Stan mumbles one night. “when we're old, we'll still be like this?”

Ford snorts. ”old?”

“like, really old. like . . . like thirty.”

Ford laughs into his pillow. “yeah. of course. what kind of question is that?”

Stan doesn't know. it just. . . sometimes he gets scared, that's all.

years pass and they swallow them whole.

time is not kind to their dreams. it chews them up and spits them out on different shores.

Ford falls into another world, Stan falls into survival. they are no longer boys dreaming on a dock.

but here’s the thing about twins. you can split them apart, you can burn them down, you can throw them to opposite ends of the universe, and still they will find their way back.

years pass.

Stan's hands are steady on the wheel, the waves licking at the hull. the sky is full of bruises, pinks and purples spilling into each other, the last gasp of daylight.

Ford leans against the railing, wind pulling at his coat.

“remember when i broke that fishing line?” Stan asks suddenly.

Ford turns, squinting at him against the light. “what?”

“back when we were kids. mom fixed it for me.”

Ford blinks. then he huffs a laugh. “yeah. yeah, i remember that.”

Stan grins. “you were so smug about it.”

“because i was right.”

“no, you weren't.”

“yes, i was.”

mom's not here to stop them fighting. it's okay. they're not boys anymore

Stan rolls his eyes, but it’s affectionate. he looks out at the horizon, lets the boat sway beneath them.

Ford watches him.

the thing is, Stan was always like this. loud, quick-tempered, full of teeth. but he was also this. soft, sentimental, remembering things Ford never thought he would.

Ford clears his throat. “mom was good at fixing things,” he says.

“yeah.”

the sky darken and the stars blink awake. Ford glances down, at his own hands. at the scars, at the years worn into his skin.

“we turned out alright, huh?” he asks quietly.

Stan snorts. “speak for yourself.”

Ford rolls his eyes.

they drift. the boat creaks, the ocean sings.

Ford looks at stan. Stan looks back.

and then Stan reaches over. ruffles Ford’s hair. quickly and carelessly, just like their mother used to.

Ford freezes what makes Stan grin as he pulls away

Ford groans, swats at him. “you always do that—”

“mom did the same,” Stan says, laughing.

Ford rolls his eyes again, but he’s smiling. suddenly he gets too quiet, lost in his own thoughts and memories

“mom would love this,” Ford whispers. “us out here. she always liked the ocean.”

“yeah, she liked watching us in it.”

once, long ago, their mother sat on the shore and watched her boys in the waves.

now, the ocean stretches out before them, endless and unknowable.

“let’s head in,” Stanley says and pushes his brother lightly on the shoulder. ”before you get all misty-eyed on me.”

somewhere in the tide, in the wind, in the bones of the ship creaking beneath them, she is there. her boys are together again.

they sail on.

[bloodysword63]

Becoming One Of The Dudes...

Jack was not in the mood to deal with anybody's bullshit today especially the guys that were watching him as he walked across the common area at the university. He was tall, thin and was going to college for a degree and not figure out how many women he could pick up on the weekend.

"Dude!" one of the guys he was trying to avoid called out but Jack kept walking.

"Hey! JACK! I'm fucking talking to you you little shit!" the guy said for the second time and Jack grumbled and turned to look. "Come on over here Jack... don't be scared!"

Jack rolled his eyes and looked quickly at his phone. He could just turn and walk away but decided what the fuck. He sighed and walked over to the four guys who were more interested in the gym than actually learning anything in the classroom.

"Yeah?" Jack asked disinterested. "What do you want Mike?"

Mike, who was one of the backup linemen for the college football team, smiled and said, "I was just wondering if you could help me with studying for the exam next week. Without a good grade, I'm going to be dropped from the team."

"Well, if you actually did the assignments and read what you needed to read, then you wouldn't have a problem with your grades now would you?" Jack replied.

Mike stood up and glared down at Jack and could feel his muscles flex. For a moment, Jack felt drawn to Mike not only for the feeling of power coming from him but the desire to be just another one of the guys. "Listen you little shit..." Mike said before of the other guys also on the football team interjected. "Mike, relax will you?" he said.

Jack felt weird for a moment as was worried that he was about to become a bloody smear on the ground before Mike relaxed and grinned. "Sorry man... just we've got an important game this weekend and all the stress from that," Mike said. "I just need help and I know you're the one that can help me."

Jack looked at the other two guys with Mike and tried to remember their names. Tyler and James. Right. Tyler was the one who interrupted Mike's rage moment and James looked as thought he was on the poster child for muscle men everywhere.

Jack sighed and said, "Sure Mike. How about tomorrow night? Can you spare a few hours from the gym?"

Mike nodded and said, "Yep. Definitely can. No worries buddy."

Jack turned away and walked on not realizing that Mike and the other two were eyeing him as not a study partner but a new initiate into the muscle world.

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

The following evening, Jack looked around his dorm room hoping that he had everything. Mike had offered the common room in his dorm as a place to study and Jack agreed. Most of the football players were in the same dorm which made it easy to keep an eye on everybody.

Jack walked over just after sunset and the stars were just coming out. He turned towards Mike's dorm and saw him standing outside the front door with a smile on his face. Jack walked up to him and said, "Evening Mike. Ready to cram for an exam?"

"If it's as bad as cramming for a game, not sure if I want to but I'm willing to try," Mike said as he opened the door to the dorm and motioned Jack inside.

A few minutes later Jack and Mike were sitting in the common room where Jack was going through the wonderful world of statistical analysis when Mike turned to Jack and asked, "Dude. Sorry if this is personal but have you always been this skinny?"

The question caught Jack off guard for a moment before he nodded. "I get it from my grandfather. He was tall and thin and no matter what I do, I can't gain much weight."

"Ever think about taking something?"

"You mean what... roids? Is that what you take? Jack asked looking at Mike.

"Roids? Nah. This is all natural work," Mike said as he flexed a bicep. "Well... not all natural."

"Supplements?" Jack asked. "Of course you would take supplements."

"Yeah, something like that," Mike responded with. "Give me a second. Be right back."

Mike got up from the table and Jack's heart raced for a moment. Although he considered himself straight, there was a part of him that was envious of what Mike had.

A minute later, Mike returned with a bottle of what was white pills. "Here," Mike said. "Take one of these before you go to bed and see how you feel in the morning. It's something I took when I was first starting out. I beat you it'll make you feel better."

Jack sighed and heard about the 'get muscles fast by taking a pill' fad that was always on the internet. He grabbed the bottle and sighed before putting them in his backpack.

"Can we get back to work?" Jack asked and Mike nodded.

Later that evening, Jack was sitting on his bed about ready to fall asleep when he saw the bottle in his backpack about ready to hit the floor. Jack got up and grabbed the bottle and walked over to the garbage can to throw it out but after a moment's hesitation he thought what could it hurt. If anything, he would feel sick for a day and go back to his normal nerd self.

Opening the bottle, he took the two pills that were inside and swallowed it. Jack looked at himself in the mirror and saw no instant changes. He went back to bed and laid down and went to sleep.

The following morning, Jack woke up with a groan. Something was different for sure. He sat up and looked down at his body and there was definitely something strange. His pajamas were tighter than normal and just moving felt strange like he had gained a few pounds overnight.

Getting up, Jack went into the bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror. What looked back at him was somebody he didn't recognize. His face looked more mature, his hair seemed to be fuller but the biggest change was that he had actually had muscle on his tall frame. Not football level muscle but definitely some muscle. Thinking this was a dream, Jack shook his head and smacked himself a few times.

Looking back in the mirror, Jack laughed and realized that it was real. What the fuck were those pills that Mike had given him? And where the fuck could he get more?

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

"How did it go?" Tyler asked Mike the same morning Jack realized that his body was changing for the better.

"Just like we had planned," Mike replied. "I'm sure Jack will be calling me shortly."

At that moment his phone rang and Mike grinned when he saw it was Jack. "Morning Jack," Mike said. "How are you?"

On the other end of the phone, Jack said, "We need to talk. Now."

Mike looked at Tyler and nodded. "Yeah. Come over to the dorm," Mike said.

A few minutes later, Mike saw Jack and immediately saw the difference that the former nerd who would be a jock soon had been after two pills.

"What were in those fucking pills?" Jack asked as he looked at Mike. "What the hell dude?"

Mike grinned. "I thought you needed to be shown a new way to look at like," he said. "And I'm sure those pills did it for you didn't they?"

After a moment, Jack nodded. "If this is what two pills did, what would happen if I took more?" he asked almost like a drug addict looking for his next fix.

"That's not how this works," Mike said. "Those pills are just the first step. The next step requires a bit more... commitment."

"Commitment?" Jack asked. "What the hell does that mean?"

Mike smiled and said, "The next step you need to take is from the source." Mike went to lower his pants but waited for Jack to realize what was about to happen.

Jack took a step back and frowned. "No... no... I'm not..." he said in a moment of hesitation. He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned and saw Tyler standing there as well.

"We all committed ourselves Jack," Tyler said. "If you want to become a man, you need to do this."

For a moment, Jack could almost hear in the back of his head a protest but Jack realized that all his life this was what he wanted. He wanted to be tough, he wanted to be strong and there was no other way to obtain it.

Mike dropped his pants and knew that his cock was solid and thick and ready to give Jack the gift of jockification. It was how it happened a year ago when Mike was given the gift by his mentor. And now he was going to give it to Jack.

Jack fell to his knees and opened his mouth. The moment Mike's cock hit his mouth, Jack closed his eyes and embraced it. The feeling of belonging filled him with joy and when Mike ejaculated, Jack's entire mind exploded in joy. This was what he wanted. This is what he needed.

After Mike was done, Jack looked up at his mentor and smiled. "That was amazing..." he whispered as he realized that his cock was solid and thick. Without thinking Jack stood up and dropped his pants and looked at Mike. Mike grinned as Tyler watched on as Jack's cock filled Mike's mouth and the process continued.

For Jack, as soon as Mike's cum hit his tongue, the transformation that he had gone through overnight continued to progress. Over the next few hours as Jack's body and mind adjusted to his newfound life, Mike and Tyler watched on with grins on their faces.

Finally, just after noon, Jack finally felt like himself again. He grinned and looked at his new best friends and said, "Thank you" in a deeper voice than he could have possibly imagined. "Thank you for giving me life," he said.

Mike grinned and replied, "Welcome to the brotherhood Jack. Glad you could join us."

As Jack walked back to his dorm room, he could see people looking at him as he realized his life had changed for the better.

[iguana-eyanna]

From The Bird's Eye View Chapter 5

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Reader

Summary: Although you achieved your dream of being a designer, you never considered meeting a man who's also a father.

a/n: This story line has been about 4 years in the making as "The Blood Within Us" was my favorite fic to write. I really wanted to finish the Bruce Wayne saga but I have been facing a lot of writer's block now a days. This current series will have two chapters that will be published in a few months. In the mean time, thank you for reading.

“Tim! You’re going to be late to school!” You yelled, knocking on his door once again. 

As if on cue, Tim was rushing towards his bag and trying to knot a tie for his uniform, murmuring sorry under his breath. 

You paused his power walk to the dining room and did his tie for him.

“I know your nervous about your debate competition tonight, but you don’t need to pull all nighters. Especially since you asked for time off on night patrol.”

“I know, I know. I was just reviewing my notes last night and slept on my desk. Didn’t hear my third alarm.” He said, seeing how you were done with his tie. 

“There. You know, I can teach you how to do it.” You said, walking with him to the table to eat a quick breakfast. Tim grabs a toast and some eggs on his plate.

“Mom, you’re a fashion designer, you’re a literal pro. Besides, you do it better than Bruce.”

“Thanks for the kind words.” Bruce replied, making Tim chuckle nervously. He presses a kiss on your head as he sat down next to you with his fixed plate. 

You look at your son who looked a bit distant as he rushed his breakfast. Call it mother’s intuition but you felt something was wrong.

“It’s time to head to head to school, Master Tim.” Alfred announced as he made his way to the car.

“Bye guys!” Tim yelled out before making his way out before kissing your cheek.

You look over to your son as he rushed his way out from the dining room.

“Is he gonna be okay?” You ask Bruce as he was about to drink from his mug. 

Bruce knows what you meant. About almost four months ago, Tim was captured by the Joker. That monster tormented him, trying to create a replicate of the conniving villain using unspeakable methods. When Bruce and Barbra Gordon saved Tim, the damage was already done. 

Tim went through extensive therapy and had night tremors. Both you and Bruce said to take his time before going back to school, but Tim pressed on, saying he’d be behind on all his school work and the new friends he’s made. But deep down, he just wanted to feel somewhat normal again.

“He’s keeping busy with school. Tim just needs an outlet to just feel like a teenager again. I thought I had to face every struggle when I was his age, I don’t want him to feel like that.” He said, taking a sip.

“I can’t imagine. At least he has you to guide him.”

“He has the both of us.” Bruce reached out for your hand, squeezing it.

You then left Bruce at home so you could go in the office. You were more busy than ever, especially when you were opening a Japan branch in the coming year.

Later on, you got a ping of your phone alerting you it was time for lunch so you left work and traveled farther away from the city.

You walked over in the uneven path. The sun didn’t glare too much and the breeze was soft. You had a small bouquet of flowers in your hands. They were small yellow flowers that had hints of dandelions. You then got off the path to a small patch of grass, now only a few steps away from where you’ve been visiting for sometime.

“Hi, Jason.”

Your son turns around, a bit in a daze as he heard his name. 

“I didn’t think you’d be here.” He said, turning around. He was about to give you a hug but paused, unsure if the embrace was welcomed. You give him a sympathetic smile and closed the gap between you two, feeling his arms tighten around you.

“Sorry, not been used to this in awhile… also, not really sure what I’m doing here.” He said, looking back at the cemetery, staring at his name on the tombstone.

Jason Todd: Friend, Brother, & Son.

Son.

That word felt foreign to him. 

It’s almost been a month since he’s reunited with the family. After days of constant fighting with Bruce under his alias of The Red Hood, it was time to end this never-ending battle of his anger and come back home. 

“I usually come here to clear my head and talk to you.” You said, dusting away the leaves that were on top of the gravestone. 

He knew since his death that you took it the hardest. Even when you took in Tim, that hurt never left your heart. And now that he’s here, you’ve been healing day by day. 

The world knew of Jason’s death. It was featured in every news channel and tabloid. You and Bruce never cleared how he passed and you all decided as a family to have an interview with Lois Lane, who was the only person you trust for the most fragile time in your family. 

And people bought that he was in a protection detail of some sort, but for some reason… it didn’t sit right with you. It was like no one cared that he was gone for so long and could magically appear like nothing has happened. 

You try to have him open up, but he didn’t want to have you bear all his pain for him.

But isn’t that’s what a mother should do for her child?

“You know your room is always there for you, right?” You ask Jason as you turned to him. He’s been crashing most nights with Roy Harper, as they had a scuffle the first time they met again, but had a tearful reunion with each other.

“I know, but I think it’s time if I found a place for myself. Dick is helping me find some apartments in Blüdhaven. But I’ll pop in time to time to be with you guys.”

You smile at him, giving him a comforting side hug. 

“You always have a home with us.”

He smiles as he kisses the top of your head as he was now much taller than you.

“C’mon, let’s go get some food.”

+

Bruce looks down at his desk in his study room, looking down in his hands that held a small leather box. 

“Master Bruce?” 

Bruce looks up and sees Alfred alone, and Bruce released the breath he was holding onto nervously.

“Has the package arrive yet?” Alfred asks, locking the door before heading towards him.

Bruce softly smiles as he shakes his head yes, giving Alfred the small box.

“Just came after she left, I’ve been anxious for weeks.” 

“Well, it’s not every day Gotham’s most famous bachelor would one day be off the market.” Alfred teased as Bruce opens the box, revealing the engagement ring for you. 

“That’s why I bought out the restaurant where we had our fifth date.”

“Fifth date?” Alfred asks, sitting down opposite of Bruce.

“Well, first date wasn’t an official date, second one we had Dick join us to go to that ice cream parlor, third I had to cancel halfway due to Clayface III, fourth we had movie night at her place and fifth… it was when I realized that things can be different.” 

Bruce admits that starting a relationship with you, he didn’t have the right intentions. He could never deserve the love you give him. He swore that he’ll make it his life’s mission to make up every mistake that has affected you.

And almost after 8 1/2 years later, he’s finally decided to ask you to marry him. Yes, Bruce could have asked you many times before hand but there has been so many set backs and memories you both wish to forget, but he feels now is the most perfect time to start a new chapter with you.

“Where is she now?” Alfred asks.

“Getting lunch with Jason, he just sent me a message just now.”

“So you and Master Todd are talking again?” Alfred asks, knowing things haven’t been easy with son and father.

“We’re uh, slowly getting there. He even asked if he could spar with Tim tonight.”

“I don’t think that’ll be such a good idea.” Alfred warned.

Alfred has seen how Tim’s been reacting lately since Jason’s arrival. Tim has been questioning what’s his place would be now that the prodigal son has returned, and better yet, what his status is in this family.

“We’ll all have a talk afterwards. Everything is going to change tonight.” Bruce said, with hope in his eyes.

Alfred gave a small smile and got up, heading out of the office. 

“Indeed it will, sir.”

Meanwhile, you and Jason just came back to the manor as you mentioned that Bruce was taking you out for dinner tonight. It’s been awhile since it’s been the two of you, so you were very excited. 

Jason, for some reason, became silent once you arrived back home. Before you go up on the steps, you look over at Jason who was staring down in his lap.

“You’ve awfully been quiet recently.” You said, looking at your son.

Jason purses his lips and looks at you with uncertainty. 

“I know I’ve been keeping some stuff about what’s happened to me in the last few years. I just, don’t know how to tell you without breaking your heart again.”

You raise your hand up to his and squeeze his hand.

“I can’t imagine what you’ve gone through, Jay. Ever since you’ve been back, I feel like something is going to rip the carpet under me and I’ll lose you again. Whenever you’re ready to talk, I’m here.”

Jason sniffles and wipes away his watery eyes. 

“Thank you.” Jason replied.

You smile at him gently and hug him.

“I uh, heard you’re gonna be hanging out with Tim tonight. I think that’s great that the two of you can talk for real this time, maybe having a big brother would help him move forward.” You stated.

Jason just nods his head, knowing what you meant.

He then followed you inside and headed straight to the bat cave, awaiting for Tim. In ten minutes, the young Drake boy looked uneasy, like he was about to meet his creator. 

“H-Hey.” Tim said, shifting on his bare feet as he entered the bottom of the bat cave.

Tim has been dreading this day.

Sparring with Bruce and Dick benefited Tim’s fighting skills. Bruce taught him calculation and timing. Dick supported encouragement and using your instincts. 

But Jason? In his time as Red Hood, he has killed men, mercenaries, you name it. And now that Jason was here ready to fight, Tim was scared that maybe Jason would use all his anger on him.

Jason bandaged his hands and took off his shirts. Every inch of his skin was etched with faded scars and bullet wounds. Tim gulped loudly as he prepped his stance.

In an instant, Jason charged first, taking Tim off guard.

“Hey! We didn’t start yet!” Tim yelled out, being knocked down on the ground.

“Lesson one, Drake: A fight can happen any time, any place. Never lose your guard.” Jason offered his hand. As Tim received it, Jason lifted him off the ground and body slammed him opposite of where he laid.

“Lesson two: never trust if your opponent has mercy. Always protect yourself.” 

Tim huffed out loud before jumping on his feet, wiping away the sweat and the cut on his brow. 

Jason looked too calm for this spar. Not an inch of his hair was out of place, even his white streak by his widow’s peak shown brightly in the dark cave.

Tim ran forward, striking with his right fist. Out of nowhere, Jason took out a small ninja star and flicked it towards Tim’s face. Just in time, Tim ducked it and body rolled on the mat, looking at Jason like a mad man.

“Are you out of your mind?” Tim screamed out loud.

“Lesson three: Be resourceful. Take anything in reach to your advantage. Bruce didn’t teach you these things?” Jason asked, circling Tim like a vulture flying around its prey.

“Bruce taught me how to sharpen my hacking skills, how to control my body in duress.” 

Jason scoffed as he looked at Tim. 

“I thought you had something in you, but I was wrong. What kind of Robin are you?”

That statement broke Tim as he tightened his fists and struck Jason in the chest. Jason staggered a little and looked at Tim, smirking.

“There he is!” Jason yelled out, almost mechanically.

Tim furrowed his brow and took a punch again to Jason’s shoulder. Jason looked like he was enjoying this little fight and took another punch from Tim.

“Why aren’t you fighting back?” Tim asked, getting frustrated.

“I wanna see what you can do, surprise me.” Jason smiled wickedly, raising his fist.

The two of them began to strike again, wanting to know who the last man will stand.

+

“It’s been awhile since we had a date night.” You said, holding Bruce’s hand as you two were being driven by Alfred to your mystery date. 

“I know, a lot has happened and I thought the two of us deserve some time together.” Bruce said, rubbing his thumb across your thigh from the slit of your dress.

“And what would our time be spent on tonight?” You ask, gleaming.

“A night of your favorite cuisine, soft music in the background, and a melted chocolate soufflé.” Bruce replied, leaning in for a kiss.

You smiled as you kissed Bruce, losing your hand in his dark ravenous hair. You could feel his hands in the back of your dress, trying to find the zipper by your spine.

“Bruce…” You warned as you felt his lips by your neck.

“We have until 15 minutes till we get to the restaurant. I just want you to myself for just a little bit.” He whispers, feeling his hot breath by your ear.

“I bet you won’t last for 8 minutes.” You dared.

“Make it 6”  Bruce remarked, seeing a sly look in his hand.

You two smiled as you both couldn’t help but take your hands off each other.

A knock is heard from the driver’s cabin, alerting that Alfred could possibly hear every word you’re saying. 

You cover your mouth in embarrassment as Bruce couldn’t help but laugh out loud. 

“Why don’t we wait after tonight?” You ask Bruce, straightening up in your seat.

“Of course, I’ll behave just for you.” Bruce reaches out for your hand, kissing it as you blushed.

Your fingers intertwined with each other as you look lovingly in each other’s eyes.

+

The two sons were getting tired. Jason was heaving his chest, as Tim may have bruised ribs from being kicked a few times too many.

Tim, now sporting a deeper cut by his temple, tries to wipe the trickling blood from his forehead with his arm. Tim refuses to back down, especially to Jason. An idea pops in his head and he slowly circles around Jason, taunting him.

“What makes you think you could be capable of teaching me to fight?” Tim asks.

Jason huffs and gives a wicked smirk. “If you’ve forgotten already, I have a reputation. Nothing gets past me.”

“You sure about that? Heard when you were Robin, you had no control, no conscience. Just chaos at every turn you made.”

Tim caught a glimpse of Jason’s tough exterior slowly cracking. Jason resumed in silencing, alerting Tim that his tactic might work. So, he took his chance and punched Jason by his left cheekbone.

“Did I strike a nerve?” Tim asks.

Jason was silent, but his eyes grown darker from their natural color. 

Tim almost felt worried, but he knew Jason would never do anything that could hurt him seriously.

Right?

“If we’re striking nerves, I wanted to clarify that I’m only here cause Ma asked me to come. Said she’s worried about you. But I see it in Bruce’s face. He thinks you’ll never be ready to go out on the field again. And frankly, I don’t think you’re able to.”

“Who says you have the final say? You just showed up to Gotham out of the blue just to prove that you’re what, the prodigal son? Please, I survived the Joker. You were overpowered by a man with no powers or strength. He was smart enough to end the job quick with you.”

A ripple soared through the air as Tim found himself on the ground as he held his left jaw as Jason was huffing his chest, breathing heavily.

Jason could only be described like a raging animal, as his dark past was catching up to him.

He grabbed Tim by the collar and raised him high as his feet dangled in the air. 

Right when Jason was about to make the first strike, he suddenly hears maniacal laughter.

‘Show him who you truly are…’ the voice sneered.

Jason staggered away as he dropped Tim, feeling his head pound. 

“Get out…” Jason held onto the sparring mat as he grit his teeth.

“J-Jason, are you alright?” Tim asks as he holds his side.

Jason whipped his head fiercely as he bear his teeth. 

“I SAID GET OUT!”

Tim took an immediate step back with fear in his eyes. Jason can see it to you as he forced his eye sight downward as he was crouched on the floor.

“You don’t know what it’s like… to have everything you ever wanted taken away in a single second. I tried protecting my birth mom by taking every beating that demon gave to me. I tried saving her from that bomb. I felt myself dying at an instant. Then I come back with half a mind of my own, still hearing that psychotic man’s voice in my head.”

Tim can see Jason almost crying as his shoulders were slumped.

Tim treaded lightly towards Jason as he slowly got on his knees, then slowly placing a hand on Jason’s shoulder. The older brother almost flinched with physical contact, but it was when he looked up to Tim who’s eyes weren’t full of fear but with sympathy. 

The two brothers get up from the sparring mat as Jason gave a heartfelt hug. Tim was shocked at first, but accepted the embrace.

“Amateurs, all of you.” A young voice said out loud.

Jason and Tim looked around their surroundings, searching for the voice.

Tim picked up a sparring bo staff and defended his ground.

“Who are you? Show yourself!” 

A quiet whip like sound pierced the wind as a small shadow lands a couple of feet by them. 

The figure wore dark ancient clothing, asian descent if Tim could describe it. The stranger lifted their mask off and revealed a boy, much younger than both the brothers.

“What are you doing here?” Jason asked harshly as he shoved past Tim.

“Mother is on an important mission. I wished to join her but she told me to come here and meet father.”

“Wait wait wait, you know this kid?” Tim asks, lowering his staff. 

The young figure sneered from the last statement.

“I am to be respected and feared, my age does not limit my lethal skills, Tim Drake.” 

Tim had enough and tries striking his opponent but he swiftly moved out of his way and swept Tim off his balance, just like Jason has performed before.

“And he calls himself the smart one.” The child comments.

“Look demon spawn, no one picks on Drake unless me, okay? And you have shown up on the worst night possible. Bruce isn’t here.”

“I have waited for almost 10 years to meet him, what’s another hour?” 

Tim rises up from the mat as he looks at the child.

“Why do you want to meet Bruce?” 

“Because he’s my father.” The child crosses his arms

Silence filled the cave. Not even a gust of wind dare to make a whistling sound. 

Tim looks at Jason for confirmation as the elder brother bows his head.

“Then who’s your mom?” Tim dares to ask.

Damien beams with pride as he steps closer to Tim.

“Someone you should be very afraid of.”

+

After you and Bruce finished your very intimate dinner, your heart began to flutter.

"Bruce, you know that you didn't have to reserve all of the restaurant just so we could have dinner alone?"

You said, sipping your wine.

"Of course not, that's why I bought the restaurant from the owner."

"Bruce!"

You two started laughing out loud as you knew that Bruce wasn't serious. If you just met Bruce now, you'd think he's this pompous rich guy. You told him first on that he didn't need to impress you with grand gestures or money. As long as you two worked as a team who gave back to their community and their family, then you never had to question his love for you.

Those were all the things Bruce was thinking of saying to you tonight.

"What's in that mysterious mind of yours?" You ask.

He smiles to himself as he softly held your hand in his, feeling his chest tighten with slight anxiousness.

"There's been something I've been wanting to say to you for some time..."

He was about to get out of his chair until his phone buzzed. He looks at the caller and sees that it's Tim.

Bruce powers his phone off, thinking it wouldn't be important.

"Everything alright?" You ask.

"Yeah, absolutely. Where was I?"

"You wanted to tell me something." You said, trying to suppress a smile of your sudden excitement.

Bruce reaches for your hand and kisses your palm, giving you the most genuine gaze you haven't seen in a while.

"I have been wanting to do this for the longest time. Love, I-"

A sudden ring is heard from your phone as you reach towards your purse.

"It's Jason. I think the kids have been trying to reach us."

"They're fine, trust me." Bruce tries to change the subject but you shake your head.

"I don't know Bruce, something feels wrong."

You answer your phone as you place it towards your ear.

"Hi honey, we just finished eating dinner. What - J - You want to talk to Bruce?"

Bruce face turns shocked as you offer your phone to him.

"Jason, now's not a good time." Bruce says.

"Bruce, I wouldn't have called you unless it was important. You need to come back to the manor now." Jason said.

"Did you tell him yet?" Tim asks from afar but then his two sons started bickering.

"Guys, what are you two trying to say? Hold on." Bruce taps the screen and places it on speaker as he stood up facing away from your nervous state.

Tim takes over the conversation as he steals the phone from Jason.

"Bruce, some kid broke into the cave while we were sparring saying he's-"

"Wait, a kid broke into the cave? Why are you and Jason fighting?" You ask, raising form your chair.

"It's fine, I told them it's alright."

"Uh, I don't think so. Tim's still recovering from the last fight he's had and you left them both unsupervised!"

"They're fine, but can we handle the situation at hand? You're the one that wanted to call them back."

"And now you're blaming me for caring? Well excuse me for-"

"I tire of this nonsense." An unfamiliar voice said as they possibly took the phone away from the bickering siblings.

"Bruce Wayne, my name is Damian al Ghul, son of Talia al Ghul and grandson of the powerful Ra's al Ghul. I am your rightful heir, your true blood son, conceived from 8 years ago when you were on a mission with my mother."

Silence filled both rooms.

"Perhaps the connection disconnected?" Damian asks the brothers.

"Nope, he heard." Jason said as the call suddenly ended.

Bruce looks at the phone, then back at you as your eyes filled with tears of betrayal.

Bruce tries to go up to you, feeling his throat tighten.

"Love, I-"

"Stop, please." You said, moving backwards as your voice lowers.

"I think its best we go back to the manor. Let's just talk later, okay?"

You try to smile but it failed as your eyesight was lost in more tears.

You leave Bruce standing there alone as you walked to the limo that was waiting outside.

"Hello Madame, I guess a congratulations are in order?" Alfred asks cheerfully as he turned back to you.

His face fell as he saw you trying to cover your tears with your left hand that had no ring. You couldn't even muster a sentence to the one person that has your one interest at heart for this night.

Alfred bowed his head in silence until Bruce came inside and sat far from you as you couldn't even look at him.

"Where to, Master Bruce?" Alfred asks.

"Home, there's someone expecting to see me."

"Who sir?"

Bruce felt hesitant to answer, but then he locked his gaze to the window.

"My son, Damian."

Taglist:

@thisnameistaken1234

@linora09

[tj-crochets]

So you know how sometimes you do something as a kid or a teenager and you think it's totally normal and then the memory pops into your head as an adult and it suddenly recontextualizes the whole thing? Anyway shout out to my super nice high school math teacher, who also had the misfortune of being A. the first teacher to give me a syllabus that (crucially) included point totals and how grades were calculated B. scored tests as like 75% of the grade and C. allowed us to take tests as a group All those factors combined into two incidents that, in retrospect, he was in no way expecting to deal with but teenage me thought were totally normal (behind a read more because it got long)

The first was when I stopped doing math homework not long into the school year and he stopped me after class to (very kindly, very gently) ask me if I was okay and if everything was okay at home, because I'd stopped doing my homework but he knew I knew the material. I said "I stopped doing the homework because I crossed the threshold on the point totals on the rubric where I no longer need to turn in any homework to get an A." He paused, kinda blinked at me, and said "That only works if you get 100% on every test" I kind of stared back at him in blank incomprehension, and was like "Yes????" "What happens if you don't get 100% on a test?" "Well. I do get 100% on every test, but if I ever miss a question, you offer extra credit questions on every test" He didn't know what to say to that lol The other time was when he announced future tests would be allowed to be worked on in groups of three or four, and I walked up to him after class and said "Any group I am in will be getting 100% on the tests. That is unfair to the other groups, and unfair to the people in my group, who will not get a chance to test their skills because I am not risking my grade on their math abilities. Can I take the tests solo?" Again, teenage me thought this was a perfectly normal, logical thing to do, but looking back as an adult like oh my gosh there is no way my poor math teacher was expecting to have to deal with that. He did let me take math tests solo I tried the "calculate points then stop doing the homework" thing in my English class the next year and it did not work because that teacher had an "extra credit doesn't count if you haven't done all your assignments" policy :(

[scwicks]

FROM THE ARCHIVES

First, I must apologize. Unfortunately, tumblr has not provided dates to posting. Good thing?? Bad thing?? Personally, I would have appreciated dates. Despite MY preferences, I copied this from a posting "years ago" and I thought perhaps it would be an interesting rerun. Enjoy:

Reveals from the Outlander Emmy Panel: How Caitriona Really Got the Job, Who Knows What About Ghost Jamie, Stolen Souvenirs and the Murtagh Dilemma – Check Your Local Listings

The story Toni Graphia told in the 2nd panel

Excerpt:

Balfe may have been teasing about the ghost scene pages, but there was one true revelation for her during this night…the truth about how the producers found her.  When she is asked where she was in her career four years ago when she first auditioned for Outlander, Balfe laughs ruefully: “Well, I didn’t have a career. I was a struggling, jobbing actor in Los Angeles. I had bits and pieces of jobs every now and then, but I was going through a particular dry spell. You get sent to these auditions through your manager, and a lot of the time you put yourself on tape and you send it off and generally, you never hear anything back.” That was true of the first Outlander tape she sent in. For that audition, she had been given a two-line description of the character. “I didn’t even know it was a series of books,” Balfe admits. “It was… a nurse from the 40s, she’s confident and she does something …so really you have nothing to go on.” When no word came, Balfe says, “I was just like, well, that’s just another one.” But a resourceful UK agent thought she should give it another go, and got his hands on a more extensive breakdown of the part and an extra scene. “I re-taped [my audition] and that got sent off and I think Toni Graphia…[was] trolling through tapes and came across [mine] at the last minute.”

But Executive Producer Toni Graphia interrupts Balfe with a completely different story of how it happened. “Actually, we didn’t come across [the tapes],” Graphia says, and shared for the first time how the actress, who had never done television prior to Outlander, came to her attention. “Maybe it’s the first time anyone’s heard [this story],” Graphia says. “I’d been up all night Googling things like ‘undiscovered acting gems in the UK.’ Yeah, I put that out there….You were being interviewed about a web series you’d done, or something. It was a personal interview… And I…was just watching you naturally, who you are as Caitriona. I went, ‘Oh my God, I think that’s Claire.’ I knew it was risky…but I sent it to Maril and said we should look at this girl. And [they told me], ‘She’s sent in a couple of tapes.” You know, you didn’t have a lot of credits at that time. But we went back and looked at them and thought, “Wow, she’s pretty good.” Adds Graphia: “We got really lucky because you were the perfect Claire. I can’t imagine anyone else doing it.”

[rios-bug]

Little Aggie comes out to play pt 2 (it’s a little shorter because I’m working on other oneshots)

As Alice put Agatha on the couch the little clung to her. Alice smiled softly as she sat done next to Agatha and let her curl into her side.

“I found her.” Alice called out as footsteps were heard rushing to the living room. Lilia seeing Agatha curled up to Alice let a sigh of relief and Jen rub her temple with a soft smile. Rio ran in through the hallway slipping on one of toys Agatha didn’t get to pick up.

When Rio fell before anyone could ask if she was alright a little giggle was heard. They looked over to see Agatha peeking her head up with a small giggle at rios accdient.

“Laughing at mamí are we amor?” Rio asked gently with mock offense as she stood up a hand over her heart. Agatha stopped her giggling with a guilty expression as her eyes glossed over thinking she was in trouble.

She was sensitive; they all could tell it was a panic drop. “Baby..it’s ok.” Lilia said as she took the other space next to the little. “Mamí was just playing, I promise sweet girl.” Lilia coaxed her out of Alice's side into her own lap as Agatha nuzzled into the older woman.

“Want your bunny?” Lilia asked as she ran her hand through her littles hair. Agatha looked up as she nodded “plz..” She mumbled as she fiddled with the top of Lilia’s shawl. Lilia looked up and Rio had already left and came back with the old rabbit in her hand as she made her way over and knelt in front of Agatha.

“Sweet girl..look at mamí. She has something for you.” Rio coaxed gently many emotions running through her as seen her little one after such a long time. When Agatha met Rios eyes and her gaze trailed down to her rabbit she immediately smiled “Bun!” She reached for her plushie has Rio gave it to her.

Jennifer came and sat on the floor with Rio infront of Agatha. Agatha’s eyes immediately landed on a bracelet around Jen’s wrist. She tucked the bunny between herself and Lilia as she reached out and grabbed Jen’s wrist. Jen tensed up as Agatha didn’t really initiate contact with Jennifer a lot. “Purtty..” Agatha mumbled as she played with the gold chain.

Jen’s gaze soften as she held her hand out flat as Agatha played with the chain. “It is pretty isn’t it?” Jen asked softly as Agatha giggled when she shook it to empathize her sentence. Agatha looked up at Jen and looked at Rio as she held up her bunny. “Pwlay?”

Jennifer looked over at Rio who was looking at the little like she was yeh center of the universe and Jennifer was feeling that way to when she seen the dependent and clinging Agatha. “Ofcourse we can sweet girl.” Jennifer said as she scooted back along with rio. As Lilia helped Agatha shuffle to the floor.

When Alice and Lilia didn’t get in the floor to Agatha looked up at them with a pout and glare. The best glare a regressed two year old could. As she tugged on both their sleeves. “Play.” She huffed as she whined.

Alice chuckled but slid down to floor Lilia sighed knowing she was going to have sore legs but got into the floor. As soon as all of them where in the floor Aggie started handing them stuffies and dolls to play with.

The four could tell they would have to talk to Agatha about her regression and how she needed to let herself do it more but in this moment they had a happy and care free little girl who was having the time of her life with her mommies.

[skyward-floored]

IAU requests you say? 👀👀👀👀👀👀

okay okay hmmmmm what about some bby Hyrule angst? as he's adjusting to living with the others? :3

- hero-of-the-wolf

@hero-of-the-wolf I hope you don’t mind I mixed these two asks together a bit to write this! I couldn’t resist the allure of a sickfic lol. This also fits with today’s febuwhump prompt, which is “holding back tears”, heh.

This takes place not long after Hyrule comes along, maybe a month or two. Little guy is still very much adjusting 😔

Warning for some throwing up, and some mentions of past child abuse.

————————————————————

It started with a twinge, a tiny ache.

Hyrule’s heart sank the moment he woke up and felt it, a little sting when he swallowed, a sinking feeling in his stomach. He hurriedly brushed it aside when Four gave him a curious look, and went downstairs for breakfast, trying to tell himself it was only his imagination. He was fine.

It got harder to ignore as the day went on though, the lump in his stomach turning to nausea, the sting in his throat a true ache. But Hyrule kept ignoring it, trying to act normal, making sure he did anything that was asked of him without any complaint. He did the bit of handwriting Malon had started him on, helped sweep the floor, healed Wind’s scraped knee when he came to him crying, and despite the shake in his legs and the buzz in his head that only got worse, he kept it up.

Being sick made things harder, but Hyrule knew complaining only made it worse. Somewhere in his head he knew his new family wasn’t like any of his old caretakers, wouldn’t scream at him for slowing down or healing less intensely than normal, but Hyrule had still only been with them a little while now.

Who was to say what they thought about being sick? He couldn’t be useful if he was sick. What if they kicked him out when they realized?

Hyrule’s heart skipped a beat. No. It was safer to hide it. Even if they didn’t kick him out, whining about a little dizziness and nausea would only be an annoyance. He would just ignore it, and wait for it to go away like he always did.

Or, that was the plan, anyway.

Hyrule had forced himself to eat dinner that night, knowing Malon and Time didn’t like it when he left food on his plate. His stomach felt way worse after he finished, but he ignored it, and managed to get through the rest of the evening without any incidents. He got ready for bed promptly, avoided Twilight’s nose that seemed to sniff out everything, dodged Wild and Legend who were wrestling in the bathroom, and finally curled up in bed with a sigh. He felt better lying down at least.

He lightly dozed until Malon came in to tuck Wind and Four in bed, and he watched her quietly as she read them a story, then settled them in bed. Would Malon really be mad if he was sick? She was always so nice, and when he’d still had his cough from the fire, she hadn’t been annoyed then.

But...

“You worthless brat!”

Hyrule sighed and lowered his head as his stomach rolled. He didn’t know.

Time came in and said goodnight to them all before leaving again, busy with something with work, and Malon came over to Hyrule, having finished with Wind and Four. She tucked him in and kissed his head, but then she hesitated a moment when she drew back, looking at him with a slight squint.

“Is everything okay, hon?” she asked. Hyrule’s stomach seemed to churn more sharply at the question, but he quickly nodded, trying his best to look healthy.

Malon still looked a little suspicious, her brows furrowed, but she nodded in turn and stood up.

“Okay, if you’re sure. Goodnight sweetie,” she said, and Hyrule said goodnight back to her, curling up as she left the room and trying to ignore his stomach so he could sleep.

Sleep didn’t seem to want to come though. He was plenty tired, but his nausea rolled through him in a way that made it impossible to sleep. Hyrule would just manage to doze off a little when his stomach would churn, and he’d have to reposition himself before trying to sleep again.

There was a pressing on his throat now too, one that only lessened a little when he swallowed, and Hyrule tried desperately to ignore it. He even tried using a little spurt of his powers on himself, hoping it would help something, but all it served to do was make him dizzier. It must have been the middle of the night by now, and he’d barely slept a wink.

Hyrule rolled over again, clutching his blanket to himself as he bit his tongue.

I’m fine. It’s just a stomachache. Go to sleep.

Hyrule’s stomach rumbled in a bad way, and he curled in tighter on himself.

It’s okay, it’s just an ache, you’re fine.

His stomach rolled more sharply. The pressing on his throat grew worse, and Hyrule whimpered.

You’re fine you’re fine you’re fineyou’refineyou’refine—

His stomach lurched, the pressing on his throat reaching the point of no return, and Hyrule stumbled out of bed, holding his hand over his mouth as he scrambled for the bathroom.

He only made it about halfway down the hallway before he couldn’t hold it back anymore.

Hyrule stumbled over and vomited all over the floor, unable to stop himself. Tears pricked at his eyes as he threw up, his throat burning, and all he could do was retch for several moments, all while trying to be as quiet as possible.

Finally his stomach finished rebelling, and Hyrule sank down to his knees, a ragged hiccup escaping him. He hated throwing up. And he didn’t even feel any better than he had before.

Hyrule let out a soft moan, clutching at his stomach, then braced himself before opening his eyes. It was even worse than he’d been expecting, and Hyrule began to shake as he stared at the mess of what used to be his dinner on the floor, mind whirling with dizziness and sudden terror.

He’d thrown up all over the floor, and a rug.

No no no no you ruined it you wrecked their things they’re going to punish you—

Hyrule nearly threw up again as memories lodged in his head of other sicknesses, voices screeching in his ears, head spinning. Being yelled at for daring to throw up, told to clean up his own mess, berated for being too weak to heal and kicked around one time when he just couldn’t make his trembling body move—

Hyrule clutched at his hair, and tried to take in steadying breaths.

No. No, he would figure this out. He would clean it up, and nobody would even know. There had to be cleaning supplies around somewhere, right? He knew where Malon kept a few things, but not stuff that would helpful for this. But surely the bathroom had cleaners somewhere?

He’d start there.

Hyrule swallowed back the burn in his throat, and dizzily stumbled to his feet, hurrying on shaking legs to the bathroom. Nobody was using it thank goodness, and despite how his head hurt even more as he flicked the light on, he firmly ignored it, looking carefully in the cabinet and drawers. His hands shook as he dug around, trying not to disturb anything too much, and the tight feeling in his stomach only increased, due to both nausea and emotion.

You’ll clean it up it’ll be fine you’ll clean it up and nobody will know and nothing will happen.

Hyrule finally found an old towel next to some sponges, one obviously used to clean with. Hyrule sagged in relief and snatched it up, heading back to the hallway. His vomit was obvious in the faint moonlight from the window, and Hyrule swallowed as he looked at it, stomach lurching as the smell hit him.

No no no, get it together. You’ve got to clean it up.

Hyrule breathed in harshly through his nose, turning away to get fresh air, then turned back once he felt his stomach was settled enough. He could do this. He wasn’t going to make even more of a mess.

Hyrule swallowed, the action hurting his throat, and started mopping up the mess, trying to hold his breath. The towel only sort of worked, his sick thick enough that he was mostly just spreading it around, and after a few moments Hyrule stopped with an anxious tap of his fingers. What else could he do? And even when he did manage to clean up the mess, where was he going to put it?

Hyrule stared dumbly at the vomit, feeling gross in multiple senses of the word.

He didn’t want to be sitting here next to his sick, trying to figure out how to clean it up while his head ached and his stomach twisted and his hands shook with fear.

He just wanted to go back to bed.

Hyrule bit his lip to stop himself from crying again, and tried to calm down. Maybe he should look for something he could throw out? That would be the easiest way to get rid of it. There were lunch bags downstairs... that might work. How was he going to get the mess into the bag though?

Hyrule stared at it again, trying to get his exhausted brain to think, but nothing was coming to mind.

And then he heard the floor creak.

Hyrule froze, his hearing seeming to sharpen at that single noise. Another creak rang out from the direction of Time and Malon’s room only a few paces away, and Hyrule’s breath caught, panic making his stomach lurch.

They’re going to see.

They woke up they’re going to see they’re going hate me they—

A shield flickered around him without his permission, making Hyrule’s dizziness worse as he quickly dropped it again. The pressing feeling came back into his throat, panic making him shake, fear pounding in his chest and squeezing so tight his lungs hurt.

His stomach lurched, and as the door opened, Hyrule threw up again right beside where he had before.

“Oh— good grief kiddo—”

Hyrule’s retching mixed with sobs he couldn’t hold back, and he barely heard the footsteps over his heart pounding in his ears, terror freezing him in place. A hand settled on his back, and Hyrule nearly choked, only crying harder as it began to rub.

“Just get it out Hyrule, it’s okay,” a voice said, and he let out a miserable noise, trying desperately to stop throwing up. There was barely anything in his stomach now, but things kept coming up anyway, bile burning as it went up his throat.

Finally he got his heaving under control, and Hyrule trembled as he looked up, feeling sick and disgusting and terrified.

Time knelt beside him, face creased, and Hyrule shrank in on himself, trying to hurriedly wipe his tears away. Crying always made it worse.

It didn’t here, a voice whispered in his head, reminding him of comforting arms wrapped around him while he sobbed, but the memory was lost in his headache and twisting stomach and weight of worse memories.

“Are you finished?” Time asked softly, and Hyrule sniffled, managing to nod. “Hyrule, what happened?”

“I w-was— I was t-trying to get to the bathroom, b-but I couldn’t do it— and I was trying t-to clean it, but— I’m sorry,” he choked out, more tears welling in his eyes.

Time looked at him with what might have been concern, but then Malon appeared in the doorway, and Hyrule’s gaze flicked to her. She looked... disgusted.

“Oh sweetie,” Malon sighed as she looked at the mess, and Hyrule was sure that meant she was mad. She flicked the light on so they could see better, then knelt down beside him and Time, taking in his trembling, disgusting, teary form. “Have you felt sick all day?”

Hyrule gave a tiny nod, and Malon sighed again, Hyrule flinching at the sound.

“Were you trying to clean this up by yourself?” Time questioned, and Hyrule bit his lip.

“Yes. I’m sorry I-I woke you,” he croaked, looking down at the floor as more tears dripped down his face. “I’ll— I’ll clean it. I’ll be quiet, I w-won’t bother you anymore.”

“Hyrule, you— honey, goodness, you don’t need to clean this up, we’ll handle it,” Malon said worriedly, and Hyrule stared at her like she’d grown a second head.

“But I made th-the mess, it’s my fault, I should clean it—”

“Link, you’re sick. Your job right now is to rest,” Time said patiently, leaning over and picking up the towel Hyrule had attempted to clean with. Time and Malon briefly met eyes, and he gave a small nod. “We’ll take care of it.”

Hyrule blinked at him, beyond confused. “But I... I ruined the rug,” he whispered, shrinking into himself while he expected a yell or smack.

To his surprise, Time laughed.

“Hyrule, this rug has had plenty of things happen to it, a little vomit will hardly ruin it,” he chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re not even the first kid to throw up on it.”

“I’m not?” Hyrule peeped, and Time nodded.

“You’re not. And even if you were, it’s just a rug,” Malon assured, then gently took his hand. “You look pretty rough, sweetie. What do you say we get you cleaned up?”

Hyrule hesitated, still extremely confused, but finally nodded. He didn’t have to clean it up? They weren’t mad?

That just... didn’t make any sense.

A trick?

Hyrule swallowed. He would maybe question it more, but he still felt terrible and too tired to argue. If it was a trick, he didn’t have the energy to try and get out of it. So he let Malon gently tug him back to the bathroom, fetching him some clean pajamas and cleaning the vomit from his chin and hands.

At some point while she cleaned him up he realized he was crying again, but he didn’t even know why. He was just exhausted. Malon gently wiped his tears away too, and once he was all cleaned up, Hyrule let her put her arm around him.

He sniffled, still feeling sick and dizzy, but... better, with the contact.

Maybe... maybe it wasn’t a trick.

Malon rubbed his back for a few moments, then picked him up, Hyrule resting a shaky head on her shoulder. They left the bathroom, and passed Time cleaning up in the hallway, Hyrule feeling that horrible shrivel of guilt and fear in his stomach again. But Time only kept cleaning, and Malon carried Hyrule back to his room, sitting down on the bed with him as she brushed sweaty hair from his forehead.

“You don’t feel too warm... does your stomach still hurt?” Malon asked softly so as not to wake anyone else in the room, and Hyrule gave a little nod. “Would you like to try some ginger ale? That seems to help your brothers when they’re nauseous.”

The mere idea of drinking anything only made his stomach hurt more, and Hyrule quickly shook his head.

“Okay. Maybe we can try some in the morning,” Malon said, and silence fell over them, Hyrule still letting out an occasional soft sniffle.

He still didn’t know what to think about all this, and was too exhausted to puzzle through it anymore. He was completely sure that Malon had been disgusted by his throw up, but she’d still cleaned it off of him. He’d interrupted Time’s sleep while he was especially busy with work, but he’d still rubbed his back while he was being sick and was cleaning up his mess.

He didn’t understand. He just didn’t understand.

Malon covered up a small yawn, still running a hand over his head, and looked down when Hyrule sniffled again.

“You don’t have to hide when you’re sick, Hyrule,” Malon began quietly, and he closed his eyes, not wanting to look at her. “I know it’s hard to tell us when something is wrong. But we want to help you, and we can’t do that if we don’t know that there’s a problem.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, and Malon sighed again.

“And you don’t need to apologize, sweetheart. We’re all still figuring this out. And you can’t help being sick, it’s just one of those things,” she said gently. “You feel okay enough to go back to sleep? You look like you could use it.”

Hyrule gave a tiny shrug. He didn’t know. His stomach still hurt a lot, and even though he didn’t feel like he was going to throw up again right now, his throat and head both hurt, and he felt dizzy when he moved too fast. He didn’t know if sleep was going to happen.

Time walked in while he was thinking, and Hyrule looked up, blinking at the pail he was holding.

“Here we go. If you feel like you can’t make it to the bathroom, you can throw up in here,” Time explained, setting the bucket by the bed. “Then you don’t have to worry about making a run for it.”

“Is there anything else you need?” Malon asked.

Both of them looked at him, expressions worried, and Hyrule felt his eyes sting again, lip trembling.

The last time he’d been sick like this, he’d had a bucket thrown at him and been told to keep the noise to a minimum, then been essentially left alone for a week. It had been all he could do just to drag himself to the bathroom when he needed it, to say less of the day his healing had been needed in the middle of everything.

But this time... it had just...

Hyrule buried his face in Malon’s shoulder, his tears back again for a different reason, and she made a worried noise, holding him tighter.

“I-I’m— I don’t n-need anything,” Hyrule managed to hiccup out through his sobs, voice muffled by Malon’s shirt. “I— thanks.”

His voice broke into an embarrassing squeak, and he rubbed at his eyes, still puffy from his earlier tears. He just couldn’t stop crying tonight.

He hated being sick. He hated it so much.

“You’re welcome, sweetie. Try to calm down a little,” Malon soothed, and Time sat down next to her, setting a hand on Hyrule’s back again. “Take some deep breaths. It’s okay.”

Malon began to hum the song Hyrule had heard her sing around the house before, one that he really liked. Time stayed quiet, but he didn’t move his hand from Hyrule’s back, and it felt warm where it rested near his shoulder. They both felt warm and safe, safe like wisps of memory Hyrule could barely recall, safe like the night they told him they loved him, and wanted him to stay.

Safe like being told he was family.

Hyrule shakily breathed in, then out, relaxing into their hold. His tears began to slow, then stop, leaving him even more exhausted than before, even with the tiredness from being sick. A blanket got set over him at some point, and his eyes drifted closed, the terrified feelings he’d been trying to overcome all day finally easing.

His stomach still hurt, he still felt sick, but it was less extreme, and he felt... better. In more than one way.

Hyrule finally relaxed, safe in the arms around him, and drifted off to sleep, secure in the knowledge he would be taken care of when he woke back up.

[djloveyou3000]

No Escape From You

Ps this is not how shereen looks like they do have similar face shape shereens lips are more plumper and the eye is more Arab if you know what I mean but she looks different plus shereen looks like me but sometimes her hair looks like this and she dress like her sorry for the ramble hope you in joy 🥹

Shereen looked at her two boys, her eldest, Vladimir, and Nadim. She was sitting, wearing her dress, while her boys played on the floor. She had a soft yet sad, loving look as she watched them. Nadim looked exactly like his father, the only difference being that he had her hair color. The rest was all Russell Adler. Her heart ached. She remembered the last time she saw him, the day he betrayed her and shot her. She wondered what would have happened if he had known she was pregnant back then. Would he have still shot her? Would he have taken her away and faked her death? They could have had Nadim, and he would have gone to Russia and taken Vladimir. They could have been a happy family in America, living the dream with the white picket fence and a dog. Did he even love her when he kissed her? When he made love to her? Or when they were undercover, and a man flirted with her? Russell had gotten so mad—she’d never seen him like that. He had taken her so roughly and claimed she was his, Bell, his Bluebell.

I guess it was all a lie because if he loved her, he wouldn’t have shot her. Shereen didn’t feel her tears falling until she felt a few tiny hands wiping them away.

“Mama, are you okay?” they both asked.

She smiled, kissing them. “Yes, of course, my sweet boys. Mama’s okay. I just have something in my eyes.”

Vladimir, her seven-year-old, and Nadim, her not yet two-year-old, looked up at her with concern. She then played with them on the floor, letting them talk her ear off.

Her long, beautiful, elegant dress was navy, and she wore gold jewelry and elegant shoes. She always dressed like this when she wasn’t in the field. She didn’t go into the field anymore. When she came back here, her papa forbade it. His death had broken her.

Then, Stitch walks in, ruining the sweet moment. Shereen looks at him, annoyed, as he slammed into her boys, who were clinging to her. Nadim, being only two, starts crying. She shushes them gently while giving Stitch a glare.

“What do you want? You scared my boys,” she says sharply.

Stitch rolls his eyes. “They need to toughen up and be men.”

“They are children,” Shereen snaps.

“What do you even want?” she demands.

“I need you to come with me,” he says.

“I’m not leaving my children alone,” she retorts, holding them close.

“I’ll leave guards with them,” he says. At that, four guards walk in, their eyes fixed on her intensely, especially one of them. Then they look at the boys, particularly the same guard who eyes Nadim. Nadim, with his pacifier, is 19 months old. Both he and Vladimir, the adorable 7-year-old, look at them with curiosity and fear.

“I’m not leaving my sons with these strangers,” Shereen says firmly. “Whatever you want to tell me, tell me here.”

Stitch rolls his eye again. “They’ll be fine. Stop being overdramatic. You’re babying them.” His thick Russian accent rolls off his tongue.

Then, Stitch looks at Nadim and Vladimir, especially Nadim, and Shereen notices the guard who is staring at them deeply. The other guard clenches his fist, and his posture suggests he’s about to attack Stitch. The other guards notice and quickly hold him back.

“Didn’t I tell you to stop using that pacifier ?” Stitch says in disgust and venom, his voice thick with anger.

“Don’t speak to my son,” Shereen snaps.

Then Stitch cuts her off. “He’s a bastard. He looks just like his fucking father. I can’t believe you opened your legs like a whore for that American bastard who took my fucking eye. Can’t believe that little bastard survived when you got shot. Should have had a miscarriage. He looks so much like him. You know, I wonder how Adler would feel if I show him his dead bastard. But that bastard got away. I trapped him, tortured him, and brainwashed him to blow up a city until his little team found and rescued him. I know he’ll be back, and I can’t wait to tell him and kill the little shit.”

Shereen, unable to take it any longer, is about to murder him. Then she notices the dagger in his hand, and he speeds toward Nadim. But she’s quick to grab his wrist and shoulder before the guards can react. He grabs her roughly, and the kids scream,”MAMA” “GET OFF ME! I WILL KILL THAT BASTARD!” he yells.

Shereen keeps her cold gaze on him. “You will do no such thing.”

She hears the guards yelling, “Adler, calm down,” and the voice sounds familiar,

Her breath caught.

Her blood turned ice.

Her heart pounded in her chest.

The voice—

No but she focuses on Stitch, making sure he goes nowhere but hell. Then she processes what he said—he tortured and brainwashed Russell, but Russell was saved.

“FUCK! I HAD THAT BASTARD BUT HE GOT AWAY FROM ME!” Stitch snarls.

Shereen rolls her eyes. “Good for him. You lost. And honestly, he should have taken both of your eyes. Perhaps, when he comes back, he will.”

Stitch’s fury grows. “HOW DARE YOU, YOU WHORE? I WILL KILL YOU AND MAKE HIM WATCH. AFTER EVERYTHING HE’S DONE, YOU’RE STILL DEFENDING HIM. WHAT, DID HE FUCK YOU THAT GOOD? IS HIS DICK THAT GOOD?”

Without missing a beat, Shereen says, “Yes, he is. And you will never be an inch the man he is. Honestly, it’s exhausting watching you try to woo me. Have some shame. I will never marry you or let your shrimp dick near me. Even if it did, I wouldn’t have felt it. YOU BASTARD.”

Before he can respond, she kicks him in the balls, twists his arm, and kicks his leg. The guards tackle him, and one of them yells for Shereen to take the kids and go. That’s when she immediately recognizes the voice—Russell.

Before Shereen could do anything, the guards came in with guns, and Stitch yelled for them to kill them all. Shereen immediately grabs Nadim and Vladimir, while Mason, Woods, and Hudson take action. Russell shoots some of the guards and runs after Shereen. Stitch is with him, as they can’t attack the enemies without risking Stitch’s life.

Shereen leads them through an underground tunnel she knows, and they find a safe place. Once they’re all secure, Shereen comforts her two wailing children. “Shhh, it’s okay. You’re both safe. Mama is here,” she coos, bouncing them gently and kissing their foreheads.

She then looks at Mason, Woods, and Hudson. “Hey, kid,” Woods says with a grin. “Hi, Bell,” Masson adds. Hudson just watches her from under his aviators, while Russell looks at her deeply. His mask is off now, and he looks just as handsome as she remembers—his hair longer, with stubble. His eyes are filled with rage, worry, tenderness, and love as he looks at her and the boys.

Stitch’s dark chuckle cut through the heavy silence. “Well, well, what a fucking reunion.” “You know, I bet you scream his name when you’re alone with him,” Stitch jeers, his voice dripping with malice. “You really think you can protect them? You’re just a pathetic, delusional whore who can’t let go of that bastard.”

Russell’s jaw clenched.

“Shut up, you shithead ,” Woods snapped.

“Or what?” Stitch sneered. “Gonna put a bullet in me? Do it, then. But you won’t, not while I’m your only leverage.” His masked face turned toward Shereen, eyes narrowing. “You should’ve let me finish the job, sweetheart. Would’ve saved you the heartbreak when Adler inevitably leaves you again.”

Russell moved.

Faster than anyone could react, he slammed Stitch against the wall, pressing a forearm against his throat.

“Keep running your mouth, and I’ll rip your fucking tongue out,” Russell growled, voice dangerously low.

Stitch just laughed. “There he is,” he taunted. “The cold-blooded CIA lapdog. Tell me, does she know what you did after you shot her? How you drank yourself to sleep? How you almost put a bullet in your own—”

Russell punched him.

Stitch’s head snapped to the side. Blood splattered onto the ground.

“Shut. The fuck. Up,” Russell hissed.

Of course! Here’s the scene with Shereen’s shock, heartbreak, and disbelief:

Stitch just laughed. “There he is,” he taunted. “The cold-blooded CIA lapdog. Tell me, does she know what you did after you shot her? How you drank yourself to sleep? How you almost put a bullet in your own—”

The words hit Shereen like a gut punch. Her body went still, her breath catching in her throat. What? She blinked, her mind refusing to process what she had just heard. Russell… did what?

Her heart pounded in her chest, but it felt as though it was breaking at the same time. She couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. Her mind swirled with disbelief, her vision starting to blur as her eyes welled with tears. No, no… that can’t be true. Not him. Not my Russell.

Her body trembled, her hands shaking as the tears began to fall. She hadn’t been there. She hadn’t seen what he’d gone through after she was gone. The thought of him—her strong, composed love—drinking himself into oblivion, broken and alone, tore through her like a dagger. He almost… he almost ended it all?

Her heart ached, a sharp, gut-wrenching pain that she couldn’t escape. She pressed her hand to her mouth, as though trying to hold in a sob that threatened to escape. Why didn’t he tell me? The betrayal of her death, the shock of hearing how deeply Russell had suffered in the wake of it—it was too much to bear. She couldn’t comprehend the weight of it.

All she could do was stand there, her breath shallow, feeling every ounce of his torment crashing down on her. How could he have been that lost?

Tears streamed down her face as the truth settled in. She had been dead—gone from his life, and all the while, he had been spiraling in his grief. The man she loved so much had been drowning in pain, thinking he would never see her again. She cried for him, for everything he had suffered, for everything she hadn’t known.

The tears blurred her vision, but they didn’t stop.

Shereen didn’t move.

“Shhh, my sweet boys,” she whispered breaking , pressing a kiss to each of their heads. “Mama is here. You’re both safe. No one will ever hurt you.”

Her voice was soothing, but her mind was racing.

Russell was here.

Alive.

In front of her.

Her heart pounded as she looked up at him. His mask was gone, revealing the face she hadn’t seen in years. He looked older—his hair was longer, his stubble thicker, but his eyes… his eyes were the same. Sharp. Piercing. Yet filled with something else now.

Something raw.

Rage. Worry. Shame. Love.

He was staring at her.

At the boys.

At Nadim.

And she could see the moment the truth hit him.

But before she could say anything—

Russell’s face darkens. “Bell, go hide the kids somewhere they can’t hear or see,” he says, his voice firm. She nods quickly and leaves.

She finds a quiet room to hide the boys. As she’s closing the door, she hears Stitch screaming in the distance.

She was there for a while, what felt like hours, sitting on the floor with the kids clinging to her, both having fallen asleep. Tears streaked down her face. Then she hears a knock, the one that she and Russell had used years ago. She responds with the knock, and the door opens. Russell rushes in, covered in blood. He immediately checks on her and the kids.

“Baby, are you okay? Sweetheart, are the babies okay?” he asks with deep worry as he cups her face.

She nods, “Yeah, yeah, we’re okay. They’re just shaken up, but they’re fine.”

He sighs in relief, then dives for a kiss. That kiss was a mix of asking for forgiveness, relief, anger, love, and fear. She kisses him back. Russell was hungry for it.

Hudson then calls out, “Can you not chew on each other’s face?”

Woods adds, “Yeah, don’t start making another kid now.”

Masson laughs, saying, “Yeah, do that later when you’re alone.”

They break the kiss, both of them blushing. Russell looks annoyed, and Shereen feels embarrassed, her cheeks turning even redder.

Russell pulled back, shooting Woods a glare while Mason and Hudson chuckled. Shereen, on the other hand, was blushing furiously, her already rosy cheeks darkening.

Russell helps her to her feet and gently picks up both children, kissing their heads. Shereen’s heart melts as she watches him treat them both the same, even though Nadim is his biological son and Vladimir is not. He treats them equally, showing them both the same care and affection.

Russell sighed, rubbing a hand over his face before gently lifting Nadim into his arms. The boy flinched slightly at first, but Russell just held him closer and pressed a soft kiss to his head. Then he reached out and pulled Vladimir into his side as well.

It didn’t matter that Vladimir wasn’t his by blood. He was Shereen’s, and that was enough for Russell. They were his boys.

He looked back at her, meeting her deep, emotional gaze.

“What happened?” Shereen asks, her voice soft with concern.

“Well, every soldier is dead, and Stitch… well, he’s more dead,” Mason says.

Woods and Hudson shudder a bit, clearly remembering what Russell did to Stitch. Russell smiles sadistically, his rage still visible. “The fucker had what was coming to him, touching and yelling at my girl and boys,” he mutters.

Shereen feels a rush of happiness, love, and a little bit of arousal at his words. She watches him, feeling a deep connection.

Russell notices her reaction and gives her a wink, a hint of amusement in his eyes. “Alright, lovebirds, let’s get out of here.”

“Wait, my stuff and the kids?” Shereen asks, still a bit shaken.

Russell nods. “Already got it.”

They begin walking, and it’s pitch black outside. Shereen glances around, disoriented. “How long has it been?” she wonders aloud.

“A long time,” Russell answers, his voice steady.

They continue walking to the jet , and soon they arrive in America, finally back to safety.

The children had been bathed, fed, and were now peacefully asleep in their beds. The room was quiet, save for the soft sound of their breathing, a serene contrast to the chaos that had unfolded earlier. Shereen and Russell, though physically close, sat on opposite sides of the emotional battlefield, each dealing with their own thoughts. The weight of the events that had transpired hung heavy in the air.

Russell, unable to keep the turmoil within him any longer, suddenly collapsed to his knees in front of Shereen. His body shook with sobs as he buried his face in her waist, clutching her as if she were his anchor. The tears that had been threatening to fall finally broke free, leaving his face wet with guilt and sorrow.

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…” he muttered between sobs, his voice choked with anguish. “I was a coward. I followed orders… I should have broken them. I’m sorry I almost killed you, Bell. I’m so sorry. I should have protected you… I should have protected our family… I should never have let that bastard manipulate me…” His words were broken, scattered with raw emotion, and as he spoke, the weight of his regret was suffocating.

He lifted his tear-streaked face to look up at her, his eyes filled with shame and fear. “Vladimir would have been an orphan. And that bastard… Stitch, he could have done anything to him. He could have hurt him… I should have… I should have known better. Every night, I see you—” His breath hitched as he tried to speak, but he couldn’t form the words. His eyes welled with more tears as he recalled the nightmares of losing her.

Shereen, heart aching for him, gently placed her hands on his face, guiding his eyes back to hers. “Russell please my love, stop,” she whispered, her voice soft but firm. She could feel the intensity of his pain, the way he carried the burden of his past mistakes. “I forgive you.”

She knelt beside him, pulling him into an embrace as he collapsed against her once again, this time letting all the pain, the guilt, and the fear flood out of him. His sobs and screams were deep, unrelenting, and it broke her heart to see him like this. She held him tightly, her own tears falling as she felt the weight of everything he had endured.

“I failed you, Bell Shereen ,” he murmured between sobs. “I failed our family. Stitch—he… he kept telling me he was going to kill Nadim, and that he’d marry you… give you children… while he tortured me. I couldn’t stop it. I couldn’t protect you from him. I couldn’t protect you from me…” His voice broke with self-loathing, but Shereen refused to let him spiral deeper.

She gently cupped his face in her hands, wiping away his tears, her touch tender and soothing. “You didn’t fail us, Russell. You made a choice, a terrible one, but you’re here now. And that’s what matters.” She kissed his forehead, his eyes, and then his mouth, each kiss soft, full of emotion, full of forgiveness. She could feel the weight of the years they had lost, the pain of their separation, and the love that had never really faded.

His lips responded to hers with a hunger that came from the depths of his soul. It was a kiss that spoke of forgiveness, longing, and relief. Their lips moved together, the kiss growing deeper, more desperate. Russell pulled her closer, his hands sliding to her back as if he couldn’t get close enough. His touch was tender but urgent, as if he needed to make sure she was real, that she wasn’t going anywhere.

Shereen clung to him, her hands threading through his hair, feeling the roughness of the stubble on his jaw and the warmth of his skin. She knew this kiss wasn’t just about love—it was about healing, about mending what had been broken between them. She could feel the intensity of his emotions, the rage and guilt, but also the love that had never left.

The kiss deepened further, fueled by the years of separation and pain. Russell shifted, his hands moving to lift her, and he laid her gently back on the bed clothes off bodies together . The movement was fluid, intimate, and as he hovered above her, his lips found hers again, this time with a fiercer intensity. She responded in kind, the kiss growing more urgent as they gave in to the need to feel connected, to reassure each other that they were still there, still alive, still in this together.

As they continued, Russell’s hands moved to her body with reverence, as if he was rediscovering every part of her, every curve, every line. He pulled back just enough to look into her eyes, and in that moment, there was a promise—silent but clear. “I’ll protect you. I’ll protect the kids,” he whispered fiercely, his breath ragged. “No one will ever hurt you or them again. I swear it.”

Shereen could see the determination in his eyes, the depth of his conviction. It wasn’t just words—he meant it. And she believed him.

As their love unfolded, as they both gave in to their desire, Russell slid a ring onto her finger, sealing the promises they had made to each other in their hearts. The gesture was simple but profound, and Shereen couldn’t help but smile through her tears, feeling the warmth of his love wrap around her like a shield.

When they finally paused, their breaths mingling, their bodies entwined, Russell kissed her forehead and whispered softly, “I love you, Bell. And I’ll never let you go.”

“I love you too, Russell,” she replied, her voice steady but filled with all the emotions that had been building between them. “You’ll never lose me again.”

And with that promise, they fell asleep in each other’s arms, their hearts finally at peace, knowing that they would face whatever came next together.

[hunters-vigil]

Her Champion - Mavuika x Kinich's older sister!Reader - Part Four

First Part Previous Part

request: do you think maybe you can do another one which talks about how the reader is Kinich’s older sister and having an affair with Mavuika?

Warnings: Warnings: mentions of R's and Kinich's childhood (Kinich's lore), fighting, violence, suspicious looking positions, guns (Chasca's weapon), R thinks Mavuika is trying to proposition/make sexual advancements but Mavuika isn't, implied past abuse to R - Mavuika figures out something happened in the past.

Fic under the cut, don't repost my stuff on other platforms, i have ao3 which my fics are also available on.

Mavuika wanted to know more about you. She couldn't ask Kinich easily, he would ask why, and that would be too difficult to explain. Not to mention the possible cost of such personal information… No, her best bet was during the next spar against you, but she needed to consider it more. How long until you lost interest in sparring with her? Did you only agree to a second one because you felt like you had to?

You felt so mysterious to her, so many layers she wished to unravel, how her fingers ached to gently touch your cheek, how her eyes lingered on your scar- the questions in her mind. How did you get it? What happened to make you and Kinich the way you both are?

This wasn't relevant to her duty to Natlan at all…

Mavuika shook her head, clearing the thoughts from her mind as she went back to looking over the paperwork that had been recently submitted to the Speaker's Chamber.

The thoughts Mavuika was having, she should not be having them, not when she knew her duty and where her destiny led. Where her life would lead up to…

Sparring with you would count as training for you both. That's how she could answer anyone who questioned her.

///

Your brother had friends. That was evident each time someone came to check on him. There was the happy ocean girl, Mualani, the timid girl who loved the rock you gave her, Kachina, that saurian-vet guy who Ajaw called a quack, Ifa, and a adolescent qucusaurus he brought with him, Cacucu. You liked Ifa immediately after hearing Ajaw while, Mualani being a little too boisterous for your tastes, and Kachina… she gave you pause, would you be more like her if you had healthy childhood?

You were unaware that there was also another girl until she arrived from the sky, staring down at you until you spotted her. Flying on a giant gun of all things, which so happened to be pointing at you when you looked up. Chasca quirked an eyebrow as you were quick to aim your weapon at her, cryo energy swirling around your body.

"We seem to have got off on the wrong foot, I'm looking for Kinich." The girl announced, but that wasn't enough as the cryo energy continued to swirl.

"I'm Chasca, Flower-Feather Clan. We've fought together in the Night Warden Wars? Fine. I didn't come here to fight, but if it's a fight you want…" Chasca stated, as you stared at her, waiting, "are you going to introduce yourself, or do I tell Kinich I fought a stranger in his front garden?"

"You tell Kinich," you jumped up into the air, sending icicles after Chasca, "his sister kicked your ass!"

"Sister, huh?" Chasca flew out of the way easily, unbothered by your attack, but that fury coming from you, it reminded her of someone, "you'll have to reach me first-"

You reminded Chasca of herself, especially when she was younger.

"Must you fight above the pplot of embercore flowers?" Kinich deadpanned as he arrived, while Ajaw took a different approach.

"Fight! Fight! Fight! Tear her eyes out!"

Chasca turned her head to acknowledge your brother, which was a mistake. She began to lower her flying gun closer to the ground as she saw him, low enough that with enough of a run-up, you tackled her off of it. The gun landed in the landing in the flowerbed embercores, while you two landed in the bed of sweet flowers, with you on top of her.

"Bite her thoat!" Ajaw screeched, but you only stared down at Chasca with a cold glare, her hands stuck as you clamped yours down on her wrists, your weight pressing down on her thighs to try keep her still. Kinich was quick to put Ajaw into a timeout after that, whacking him flying before he approached slowly.

"You know the longer you keep her there, the more you'll have to make it up to her." Kinich stated, unbothered at you straddling Chasca, while she raised an eyebrow, watching how you seemed to think it over, let out a grumbly sigh, then quickly scrambled off of her.

"You going to explain what just happened?" Chasca turned to your brother, who watched as you disappeared further into the mountains.

"You're lucky you didn't try flip her, or you would be a popsicle right now. My sister doesn't take kindly to things being pointed in her face…" Kinich let out an uncharacteristically tired sigh, "thank you for not attacking her."

"Well, I'd say she started it, but- I didn't know you had a sister." Chasca changed her train of thought, her eyes trained on Kinich as he stared at her.

"It never came up. Most people have met her by turning up here looking for me. That includes Mualani and Kachina." Kinich stated, folding his arms, "what was it you came here for, Chasca?"

///

Meanwhile, you could feel the heat of embarrassment flooding your body, your feet carrying you away, eventually up a tree with enough cover for you to hide in peace. Something about the gun pointing at you from above, sent you into fight or flight mode… how in the abyss were you supposed to make it right with her? What was her name again? Chasca, Chasca… oh.

The Night Warden Wars…

"Xilonen? Are you up there?" The Archon's voice snapped you out of your haze, carefully peeking over to spot the sunglasses-clad fiery woman looking up at you, her face melting into some expression you didn't understand as you met her eyes.

"I wasn't expecting to see you today." Mavuika beamed, not even bothering to take off her sunglasses as she began to climb the tree, eventually face to face with you, "are you alright? You look… frazzled."

"Frazzled?" your eyebrows crinkled together in a way that Mavuika, if she was a wide eyed giddy teenager again, would call cute… Luckily Mavuika's sunglasses hid that expression, schooling her face before putting her sunglasses away properly.

"Anyway, I was looking for Xilonen, I wanted to talk to her about a new upgrade for Flamestrider, my motorbike, can you see it down there?" Mavuika smiled as your eyes eventually followed where she was pointing, spotting the strange machine on the ground nearby.

"I'm not the weapon forger." You deadpanned, not understanding why Mavuika was smiling so much.

"I know you're not, but that doesn't mean I can't spend time with you… we need to schedule our next spar, and maybe some other activities-"

"Other activities? I'm not- am I allowed to refuse? I know you are the Archon…" Your voice trembled, eyes widening as Mavuika looked momentarily confused, before realising what you thought she was trying to ask for.

"Uh, not that, wow, uh, let me take you to dinner first at least." Mavuika's eyes widened, spotting how your arms wrapped around your torso almost to hide your body from her, even though your clothes were there…

"I'm not good company." You brushed her off, directing your attention to the soil that was on your clothes, reminding you of what you did.

"What happened?" Mavuika's eyes trailed down your legs, holding back from reaching out to touch you as you shifted uncomfortably.

"Why do you want to know?"

"Because I care-" Mavuika began, but your eyes were cold as you met her warm ones.

"We sparred together once." You deadpanned, reminding her momentarily of Kinich, but your voice held a bit more… confusion in it. Did you really not see the interest you held?

"And I'd like to do it again. I happen to think you're rather interesting." Mavuika smiled, about to nudge you with her elbow, but you stared at her arm confusedly, moving away from it almost unconsciously.

"The appeal will wear off quickly, then you'll go back to your duties and… tracking down Xilonen." You waved her off, but it was only making Mavuika more determined.

"I happen to be quite stubborn, just ask Xilonen. I know she crafted your weapon for you too." Mavuika smiled, before it slowly disappeared into a frown, "do I make you uncomfortable?"

"You confuse me," you let out a sigh, avoiding Mavuika's gaze as you tried to figure out the words, "Chasca visited home, looking for Kinich. She flew in on that giant gun, looming over me. I… I'm not good company. I should go."

Mavuika caught your shoulder before you could climb out of the tree, but the panicked look on your face had her let go quickly.

"Who hurt you?" the fire in her burned brightly as you looked back at her for a moment, your gaze icy as you gave no emotion back to her as you left with only parting words.

"Who didn't?"

[gothamitewriter]

I can't breathe (at least you're here with me)

Febuwhump Day 3: Pinned Down

Words: 2.5k

Warnings: Gun violence, blood and injury, trauma

Summary:

Bruce is off-world, Tim is with Young Justice, Damian is with the Titans. Where does that leave Gotham? In the hands of three idiots with no sense of self preservation.

Or: Dick, Jason, and Steph are having a bad time, and the week is just getting started.

Dick would like to state for the record that this whole situation was all Jason’s fault. Okay, maybe that was a bit harsh. But it was at least 70% Jason’s fault. Honestly Dick didn’t even want to be in Gotham right now, but Bruce was in space, Tim was with Young Justice dealing with some sort of catastrophe, Damian was with the Titans, Cass was away at some sort of ballet intensive, and Duke was injured. 

Gotham was left with Jason and Steph. While Dick was the only vigilante in Bludhaven, crime in Blud was far less likely to involve masked maniacs. Bruce had actually called Dick, asking if he could pick up patrols in Gotham for the next two weeks. Dick had said yes, like an idiot, because he could never say no to his family. So there he was, on his first patrol in Gotham, when Jason spoke up on the comms. 

“Nightwing, can you meet me at the warehouse on the corner of Martin and 36th? I’ve a got a weapons deal going down here and it looks like they might have some alien tech. Might be Tamaranean,” Jason’s voice crackled to life in Dick’s ear.

“Can do, eta 6 minutes. Will you be good that long?” Dick asked, twisting in the air and making a sharp right turn. 

“Should be, buyers aren’t here yet. There’s a skylight on the northern edge of the building where you can drop onto the rafters without being spotted.” Dick tapped his comm twice to confirm that he heard as he leaped up onto the rooftops, the buildings too short here to effectively grapple. 

“Tactics going in?” Dick came out of a roll, he was only a block or so away, and it would be good to have some semblance of a plan in place. 

“Pick off as many silently as possible. I don’t know what those weapons are capable of, and I would rather not find out first hand.” Dick spotted the skylight that Jason had directed him towards, sliding towards it on the loose gravel of the warehouse roof before slipping inside. He landed just behind where Jason’s hulking figure was crouched down, listening to the conversations of the criminals below. 

“Numbers?” Dick muted Jason on his comm to avoid feedback. 

“There’s the three guarding the crates there, four more out front, at least 5 others making rounds of the warehouse. Don’t know how many the buyers will have, but I’d say somewhere around ten is a safe bet for deals like these, maybe more if there really is alien shit involved.” Jason pivoted to face Dick, a tuft of white and black hair visible underneath the hood of his jacket. 

“Pick off the 5 making rounds first, hide them out of view?” Dick suggested, looking around the wide space to mentally catalog the bodies in the space. 

Jason nodded, “I’ll take the eastern half of the building, you take the western half. Keep an eye on the door.” 

Dick made his way across the rafters. The building had once been some sort of storage facility for some clothing manufacturer. Huge metal racks filled the space, some had been knocked over at some point, leaning at odd angles. Others were broken, metal shelves hanging limply from the vertical supports by single bolts. Rotting cardboard boxes covered many of them, as well as large portions of the floor. In the maze of racks Dick spotted the first of the men keeping an eye on the building. 

The man looked like fairly typical hired muscle. 6 feet tall, bulky, and carrying far too many weapons. A ski mask covered his face, the holes for the eyes and mouth showing his fair skin and brown eyes. Dick waited until the man was at a dead-end, dropping down from the rafters and wrapping his thighs around his meaty neck. Dick applied just enough pressure to cut off blood to the brain, before dismounting from the man’s shoulders and helping him carefully fall to the floor. 

Dick was mostly hidden by the shelves and boxes, and he started moving carefully through the space. He held his weight over the balls of his feet, silencing his steps even on the squelching cardboard that sank in whenever he moved. He caught a glimpse of blonde hair around a corner. This man wasn’t wearing a ski mask, only a black surgical mask obscuring the lower half of his face. 

Dick pounced forward and drew his escrima from their clips on his shoulder blades. Using his escrima to extend his reach he pulled the man towards him by the neck. Once again it was a matter of carefully applied pressure - it wouldn’t do to cause any brain damage, after all - and carefully lowering the limp body to the ground. 

Jason had said that there were five men in total patrolling these outer stacks, but Dick didn’t know how many of those were on this half of the building. He was in a fairly secluded area so he pressed the button on his right escrima to grapple back up to the rafters. If there was anyone else it would be quicker to find them this way, and if not he was hidden out of the way for when the buyers arrived. 

“I’ve got three unconscious over here, Nightwing.” 

“Copy that, Hood. Two down here, that should be all of them, right?” Dick answered quietly. 

“Should be. You’re in the rafters?” At Dick’s affirmative noise Jason continued, “Good, position yourself above the crates. I’m going near the entrance.” 

Dick sighed. If they were waiting for the buyers they could be waiting anywhere from a few minutes to nearly half an hour. Any longer than that seemed unlikely with how long Jason had already been there. 

Luckily for Dick’s ADHD ridden brain, he didn’t have to wait long. The screeching sound of metal against concrete echoed through the space, followed by a cacophony of steps as the buyers entered the space. 

Shit.

”Ah, fuck,” Jason’s statement echoed Dick’s owns thoughts as he took in the very clear military uniforms in front of him. 

“Why is the military buying weapons from some small-time gang in Gotham, of all places?” Dick whispered, mentally saying goodbye to this suit that was almost certainly about to be riddled with dents from bullets. 

“Well, they know big bitchy and brooding is off-planet doing some diplomatic bullshit. When else would they do it?”

”Fair point. How do we approach this?”

“I’m going to try to lure the big guys out into the street. Pick them off as they come through the door. You deal with the other three. Fair warning, I can’t promise non-lethal shots.”

Dick thinks about arguing with that point, makes a vague noise, before Jason cuts him off. 

“It’s this or I blow out the front wall, take your pick.” 

“I said nothing. Let’s leave all the walls where they are for now, please,” Dick begged, silently hoping that Jason wasn’t already aiming the rocket launcher. 

”You never want to have any fun,” Jason whined. 

“That’s not true! I just don’t want to set off explosives near potentially unstable alien technology.” 

They lapsed into silence once more. Jason had left his comm line open, so Dick could hear as he grappled into a sniping position. The mechanical clicking of Jason’s twin pistols combining into one truly impressive sniper rifle filtered over the line. Dick knew that rubber bullets weren’t going to be an option with opponents this potentially heavily armed. Silently, he made peace with the potential lives lost, trusting that Jason would minimize casualties if at all possible. 

An explosion rocked the building, luckily the front wall was in fact still intact, so Dick assumed Jason was just using some sort of explosion as a distraction technique. Using the distraction of the men guarding the crates, Dick swooped down to take them out as quickly as possible. The first crumbled with a sharp strike to the temple, unfortunately giving the other two the time to aim their guns and start firing. Dick did his best to avoid as many bullets as he could, but he could feel the bruising impacts against his body armour. 

Dick shifted his grip on his escrima, feeling more than seeing the way that the electricity crackled along their length. The remaining men’s eyes widened as Dick deflected more bullets before lunging low and taking out their legs. One of them immediately fell unconscious, while the other hit the ground hard and kept shooting.

“Oh come on, just pass out already,” Dick sighed as he flipped into an upright position, kicking the man in the head on his way down. Now that the gunfire aimed at him died down, Dick could hear the thunder of the fight just outside the building. Jason had muted his comm to give them both quiet to focus on their own fights, but even without that Dick could hear his peals of laughter as bodies dropped. 

Dick made his way behind the group, but Jason seemed to have things well in hand. One guy tried to run back inside to secure the weaponry, but Dick took care of him quickly. Dick grappled up to the rafters to watch the rest of the military men fall. That was going to be… interesting to explain to the commissioner. He was going to let Babs and Jason deal with that, actually, Dick was going to go back to Bludhaven the second he was no longer needed. 

“Alright, we’re clear. We need to take a look at those weapons, see what we’re dealing with. If it is Tamaranean, we should call in Kori to dispose of them properly,” Jason landed next to Dick, before dropping down to the ground and making his way to the crates, Dick following behind.

Jason pried open the nearest crate, revealing black foam padding surrounding rows of handguns looking right out of a science fiction movie. 

“Definitely Tamaranean. I’ll give Star a call. We want to get this out of here ASAP, head back out on patrol. Spoiler being out there on her own makes me nervous.” Dick turned away from the crates and moved to make the call. Then, he froze. 

“I don’t like the sound of that…” Jason grimaced. A high pitched whine was emitting from the crate. 

The world went white, and then dark.

---

Everything hurt, that was the first thing that Dick registered when he regained his senses. There was metal digging into his shoulder blades and something embedding itself in his right leg. 

“Hood?” Dick wheezed. Dust clung to his lungs. He didn’t have hope for a verbal response, if the night vision in his domino was broken then his comms no doubt were too. 

Dick took stock of his body, outside of the wound in his leg he seemed relatively uninjured. He couldn’t take a full breath, what seemed to be the remains of the rafters pinning him down to the ground. His ears were ringing, as to be expected from the close proximity of the explosion. He couldn’t see more than three feet in front of him, but it looked like the entire building had caved in. 

Shifting could be heard behind him, the scrape of boots against concrete. 

“‘Wing?” Jason sounded awful, rasping and coughing. 

“Status? I’ve got no comms, pinned under the rafters,” Dick tried to throw his voice as far as possible, but it came out weak and airy. 

“Got thrown against one o’ the racks. Think it broke, stuck me in the side? Not concussed, I don’t think. Roof’s collapsed, but the rack is propping it up, so I’ve got a bit of room to move. Any injuries?” Dick let out what little sigh of relief he could.

“Something in my right leg, can’t move enough to tell what. It doesn’t feel too deep, and I don’t think it’s hit anything vital. Still, it's going to be hell to get out of here. Any idea how long that’ll take?”

“My comms are out too. I think the blast might have involved an EMP, there doesn’t seem to be any physical damage to my mask. Oracle will have sent backup our way as soon as we dropped out of comms, but with the damage to the building? It could be a bit before they can safely extract us.” Jason’s speech was clearer, giving Dick hope that he really didn’t have a concussion. 

“How are you holding up? Not physically, just. I can’t imagine warehouse explosions are particularly pleasant. Not that they’re ever pleasant.”

“Trying not to think about it, actually, so thanks for that Dickwing. At least there’s no fire. Just a shit-ton of dust and debris.” As if on cue, a cough ripped through Dick’s chest.

“Yeah, you can say that again. Can barely breathe over here.” They both lapsed into silence with that. Dick’s leg was starting to burn as the adrenaline faded. He was so tired, but falling asleep in the remains of a warehouse seemed like an all around poor idea. “So, you and Roy, huh?” 

“Oh fuck off, man. You really want to talk about my love life now?” Jason barked out a rough laugh. 

“When else? Can’t run away from me now.” 

“He’s nice. Dunno what else you want me to say,” Dick could practically hear the shrug.

“If he hurts you… I’d say that I’d kill him but I wouldn’t take that privilege from you. But I’ll piss on his grave.”

“You know Roy, if something happens between us it’s going to be my fault, man.”

Dick frowned, “Hey, no self-depricating here.”

“Not self-depricating if it’s true. I should have double checked those crates for explosives before popping them open.”

“You couldn’t have known, never can with alien shit. Plus, we don’t know if opening the crate is what triggered it at all, could have been a remote detonation, could have been time-based. No way of knowing until Babs takes a look.”

“B would have figured it out, wouldn’t have gotten himself blown up like an idiot. Again.” Well, that was a trauma-filled can of worms.

“I’ll have you know that B got the both of us blown up like an idiot a lot more than just twice. That was a typical Tuesday until he upgraded his cowl scanners. Or rather, Babs and I upgraded his cowl scanners,” Dick tried to sound comforting, but it wasn’t easy with the way his throat was starting to protest making any sound. 

“Yeah, and my scanners are just as upgraded as his are, more even, with the shit Roy has thrown in there. But there I went, fucking it up again. What else do you expect from the failure Robin.”

“Who the fuck called you that?” Dick snapped in the same tone he would say who do I need to kill.

“S’what everyone says. Robin number two, the failure. Spoiler’s told me, how B used me as a cautionary tale to the new Robins.”

“Fuck him. I was pissed when B gave you Robin, sure, but I made sure that you lived up to the title and you absolutely did. You’re the best of all of us with civilians, you’re the only one that anyone in the Alley trusts at all,” Dick trailed off, unable to put into words how wrong it was for Jason to be called a failure in any measure. 

Jason just grunted. Dick pretended not to hear the way that his breath hitched. They would be out of here soon enough. 

[theloveoffootball10]

ғᴏᴏʟɪsʜ - ʟᴀɴᴅᴏ ɴᴏʀʀɪs

complete masterlist

ʟᴀɴᴅᴏ ɴᴏʀʀɪs x ᴏᴄ Something a little bit different from me tonight. A very old one shot reimagined as a Lando fic because I can’t help myself.

ᴡʜᴇɴ ɪ ɢᴇᴛ ᴛʜᴇ sᴛʀᴇɴɢᴛʜ ᴛᴏ ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏs ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴍᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ɴᴇᴇᴅ ᴍᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ɪ'ᴍ ᴡᴇᴀᴋ 'ᴄᴀᴜsᴇ ɪ ʙᴇʟɪᴇᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ

Five years ago when Lando Norris asked me to be his girlfriend, I was the happiest I've ever been we may have been young but we were in love. I never thought one person could make me feel like I was on cloud nine everyday the way he did. I had the life so many dream about; the most loving boyfriend, amazing friends, the nice house, the nice car, the luxury holidays. I had it all. It sounds perfect doesn't it? Don't get me wrong it's an amazing lifestyle until the person you love more than anything in the world cheats on you. Not just once but regularly. That's when none of that stuff matters anymore it becomes a world of anxiety, doubt and worry. Where is he? Who is he with? Will he come home tonight? This is the life I'm living now as Lando Norris's fiancée. 

"Where've you been?" I ask Lando casually as he strolls into the bedroom of our Monaco apartment. Deep down I know where he's been and truthfully it makes me feel sick but I don't actually want to hear the words come from his mouth. In my head it will be more devastating to actually hear him say what I know has been going on behind my back for months now rather than acting oblivious.

"Just out with some friends, you should come next time" Lando says as he starts getting ready for bed. I don't understand how he's so blasé and how he can act like he's doing nothing wrong.

"That would be interesting wouldn't it" I mumble to myself as I turn the TV off and pull the duvet over myself, cocooning myself in.

"What was that?" Lando asks as he stands in the doorway of our en-suite.

"I said maybe one day. Night Lando" I say turning my bedside lamp off to put an end to our conversation. Hearing the bathroom door close I finally let the tears roll down my cheeks. This seems to have became a more regular thing lately. Lando comes home late with no explanation and I cry myself to sleep. Thinking about our relationship I question how things have got this bad between us. How have we allowed things to get this bad?

"You cried yourself to sleep again last night didn't you?" My best friend Sarah says the next day as I sit in her kitchen.

"What makes you say that?" I don't even know why I'm trying to deny it. It's obvious when you look at me and sadly she's been through this with me so many times she knows the signs.

"Your eyes are red and puffy. The bags under your eyes are something else and your mood tells me that you're beating yourself up. Why do you let him do this to you Taylor?" Sarah says not even needing to ask what's going on.

"I love him Sarah. I haven't actually asked him about anything yet but it's the same signs as the last four times" saying things out loud makes me realise what I'm actually letting Lando do to me.

"Taylor get some self respect! This might sound harsh but I can't watch Lando hurt you any more. He's cheated on you multiple times! You know about four girls he's admitted to but let’s be honest there's probably a hell of a lot more and every time you keep running back to him. You throw him out for a few weeks maybe two months at the most and he begs enough and promises to never do it again and you take him back because you miss having him around! No one deserves to be treated the way he's treating you" listening to Sarah I know she's right but I can't physically admit that my relationship with Lando has ran its course. It's destroying me mentally. 

"It's not all bad though and I know he does love me" I'm aware I sound pathetic but I truthfully believe that Lando does still love me. We’ve been together for so long now, he’s the only one I think about when I think about forever.

"This isn't how you treat someone you love. Look I'm not going to say anymore because you know I have a strong opinion on this and we don't agree so rather than this ending in an argument I'm going to stop talking. I've told you what I think but sadly I can't make any decisions for you. If I could he'd have been binned off a long time ago" I know everyone who knows me would be happy if I left Lando for good but I can't, I don't want to be alone. I can't picture a life without him in it. I feel like I've put so much time and effort into our relationship to throw it away.

sᴏ ɪ sᴛᴏᴘ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴍᴀʏʙᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ ʟᴇᴀʀɴ ᴛᴏ ᴀᴘᴘʀᴇᴄɪᴀᴛᴇ ᴍᴇ ᴛʜᴇɴ ɪᴛ ᴀʟʟ ʀᴇᴍᴀɪɴs ᴛʜᴇ sᴀᴍᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɪɴ'ᴛ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ɢᴏɴɴᴀ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ

"Will you come in with me? I know exactly what I'll be going in there to and I'm not prepared for that" I say as we pull into the garage at mine and Lando’s apartment and I see the strange car in one of our parking bays.

"Taylor this is so wrong. We've been away for a hen weekend and now you're worried to even go in your own house because you know your dick of a boyfriend has most likely cheated on you, again. However I can see how anxious you are so I will come with you but I'm telling you now I'm not being held responsible for my actions if he has got a girl in there" getting out of the car with Sarah I'm terrified. I know Lando has cheated on me probably too many times to count but I've never actually caught him with another girl let alone with another girl in our home.

"Lando?" I say walking into the kitchen not seeing Lando anywhere. This just confirms to me that he's still in our bed with a slut. Yes I'm going to call her a slut even though I don't know her. Mine and Lando’s relationship has been in the public eye for as long as I remember and there's photos around the house of us together. There's no way she can't know about me. Walking into our bedroom I feel sick. Lando is still sleeping with the fake red headed slut next to him and I feel like I can't breathe.

"You don't deserve this Taylor. What are you going to do?"

"I don't know anymore Sarah. I could always block it out when I didn't see anything but how will I get this image out of my head? She's in my bed" I say. I'm angry and I'm shaking but I don't know how to act.

"Not for much longer she won't be" Sarah says walking over to the bedside table where she grabs the bottle of water that is sat there. Before I know it she's pouring water over Lando and whoever that is in my bed "get up now, both of you" I don't think I've ever heard Sarah so angry in the whole time I've known her.

"What the fuck are you doing? You absolute psycho!" Lando shouts as he jumps out of bed.

"How could you?" I say when Lando looks at me actually realising I'm there and not just Sarah. I'm scarily calm and I'm even scaring myself. I don't even shout, I haven't got it in me to raise my voice.

"Taylor babe this meant nothing" always the same speech. It never meant anything when Lando tries to justify his actions.

"Don't you think you better leave?" I say looking at the girl in my bed "I don't care who the fuck you are but get the fuck out of my bed and get the fuck out of my house. Now!" Seeing the look on Sarah’s face I know she never expected that tone to come from me, hell I didn't even expect it.

I don't take my eyes of the red head as she climbs out of bed gathering her clothes, within minutes I hear her leave the house. That's when I let the tears flow free and Lando gets the brunt of my anger. Next thing I know I'm throwing things at him, I'm hitting his chest and I can't stop the tears.

"Why would you do this to me!"

"I'm sorry! It was a mistake. She didn't mean anything to me. Taylor she's nothing compared to you" Lando says trying to pull me into his arms but I resit and pull back.

"Don't touch me!" I scream at Lando not wanting to be anywhere near him.

"You disgust me Norris! You've got the most amazing girl and you treat her like this! You don't deserve her! She should've left you the first time she found out you cheated" Sarah shouts at Lando and I know she’s right. I should have left years ago.

"Keep out of this Sarah! This is between me and Taylor! Why are you even here?"

"Because your fiancée was too scared to come into her own home by herself because she knew you'd have a slut here! Look what you're doing to her! You're destroying her piece by piece!" Sarah has so much built up anger towards Lando I can see this exploding as both of them raise their voices at each other.

"Stop it! Stop it now! Both of you!" I scream nearly hysterical looking between my fiancée and best friend "I know you don't like each other but stop! Sarah will you give us a minute please?" I say knowing I need to speak to Lando alone.

"I'll be in the kitchen" Sarah says giving Lando daggers as she leaves the bedroom.

"Tay..." Lando starts but I cut him off.

"Don't bother Lando. I don't want to hear it. From my perspective you have no excuse for any of this. We were supposed to get married! Christ it's not like you don't get sex from me because you do! I could understand a little bit more if that was the case! I want you to leave" I say determined this will be the last time.

"Taylor please don't. I love you"

"This isn't how you treat someone you love Lando. Just go please. Stay with a friend, stay with your family, stay with one of the sluts you've been shagging behind my back I don't care anymore. All I know is that I want you to pack a bag and leave. There never will be a wedding" I say throwing my engagement ring on the bed before walking out of the bedroom not giving Lando the chance to respond. This is the final straw I can't go through this anymore. After five years I need to plan a life without Lando Norris by my side.

[kpopsexstories]

One-shot #20: NCT Jisung "Mind Blowing" Sex with Haechan's Sister Pt. 2/3

This is the 20th story (2nd part) of my broader Mixed One-shots series. It's a response to this request: "Can I request a story about NCT Jisung having sex with Haechan sister, but these days Jisung is more experienced and better, which leads to mind-blowing sex. (This is loosely related to Jisung's mmse story.)Please!!"

Celebrity: NCT Jisung

Sex Content: Licking/eating pussy, Doggy style, Face-off, Clit teasing, Missionary, Female orgasm, Some dirty talk.

Type of Sex: WILD

Word Count: 2.4k (8.6k including all three parts)

<- Read Part 1 first.

Haneul was going wild when Jisung ate her pussy. Naked together in bed she squirmed, moaned, begged and screamed his name.

“Mm, mmm, Jisung,” she panted when he kissed her folds and blew warm air on her clit.

“Ahh, fuck, Jisung!” she exclaimed when he sucked her labia and played with his tongue inside her.

“Ahh, yes, yeees, YEEES!” she screamed when he went to town between her thighs and moved his head back and forth, while smacking his lips as she jolted and squirmed in his arms.

Her reaction to his actions made Jisung happy and incredibly horny. Eventually, however, he stopped licking and eating her out to pull himself back up. He crawled on his knees in between Haneul's legs, and the radiating attraction between her clit and his already condom-covered dick was intense.

He lowered his crotch above hers, teasing her with his boner. The head rested gently against her wet folds and slid up and down between them. He kissed her mouth while leaning on his hands and elbows, but kept his ass in the air and the shaft at an excruciating distance – close, touching, but not quite in.

It sent wonderful sensations through them both, they way the head and folds played together. Jisung's dick throbbed as it slid against the soft tissue, and Haneul was wetter and hornier than ever.

He wanted her to beg, and that's exactly what she was about to do.

“Ahh, Jisung, don't tease,” she moaned. “Please, let me feel it!”

Jisung grinned while he pressed his lips against hers, quite satisfied with himself. “Mm, yeah, you like it?” he asked and looked her in the eye.

“Yeah,” she said and he moved his hips and ass up and down in long motions. “Yeah, yeah, please just fuck me.”

Enough teasing. Fucking her was exactly what Jisung wanted to do too. It wasn't just her clit that suffered and was starved but his cock too, and he could no longer keep it away from her wide-open body.

He lowered himself slightly and reached in between them. She opened her mouth wide and he held his breath when he pointed the dick straight out. They looked into each other's eyes as he sank down on top of her, and the head slowly stretched her lips and was engulfed by her folds.

“Ahh,” he sighed when the head went all the way in and he let go of the shaft.

“Mmm, fuck!” she exclaimed when the shaft slid inside her with ease.

Jisung relax. His thigh muscles stopped tensing and flexing so much. Haneul felt soft and slippery inside, and when she swallowed the shaft whole and they embraced Jisung's heart skipped a beat.

He spread his legs slightly, to allow his groin to connect as closely as possible with hers. He started moving his ass up and down again, still slow while they got a feel for each other. Then a little faster as he collapsed on her breasts and kissed her neck.

“Mmm,” he moaned when he started breathing again.

“Mm, mmm,” she echoed and gently rocked her hips too.

Their bodies became as one, and the moment they had both been craving had finally arrived. Soon they were going at it like two lovers who had been apart for way too long, fucking so good and for so long that their bodies became hot and sticky and the sheets were drenched in sweat.

*****

Haneul was on all four on the bed, naked with her back stretched long, panting softly while slowly moving her ass in and out onto Jisung's dick.

Jisung was on his knees behind her, gently kissing her neck while reaching around her to explore her front with his hands.

His dick was deep inside her pussy and their bodies aligned as one. Their hips moved in unison as they fucked lovingly, catching their breaths after a wild moment. The now slow sex was so hot they forgot all about where they were.

“Mm, this is so good,” Haneul panted. The words made Jisung's mind go wild.

“Yeah,” he whispered in her ears while he tensed every muscle in his body, and the dick pushed hard and deep inside her. He found it all incredibly erotic.

They had been going at it for hours. They'd spent the whole afternoon in bed. Their time altered between laying naked under the sheets while talking and laughing, making out while exploring each other's bodies and minds, and fucking like animals until their minds and bodies went numb.

It was sex so good Haneul's eyes rolled to the back of her head and Jisung's mind went blank. It was a sexual connection so great Jisung had never experienced anything like it. Neither had Haneul for that matter.

Jisung's dick was like a magnet pulled to her pussy and the sex was nothing short of mind-blowing. Haneul had said so several times, when she came on his dick for the first time and he simultaneously came inside her the second.

Mind-blowing sex. The term made Jisung smile to himself when he repeated it in his head. He totally agreed with her assessment.

Three used condoms lay on the floor, two of which were tied up and filled with cum. Now, as their slow and erotic synchronized movements intensified, they were about to produce another.

Jisung moved his hips a little faster while his lips pressed harder against her soft skin. His hands slid down from her breasts and felt the outskirts of her folds between their legs, where the dick pointed straight out, up and into her.

Haneul sat up straight and pushed her ass onto Jisung's lap. He kissed and caressed her while she started jumping up and down in his arms. The dick slid in an out of her, and he sat down with his ass on his feet while she raise her arm and wrapped it behind his head.

“Ahh,” she moaned while jumping higher and sinking down further. Her breath became fast and shake-y. “Ah, Ah, you're amazing Jisung!”

Jisung pulled his lips away from her and his hands moved from her front to her sides. He leaned slightly backwards to get a look at her back and ass.

“Ahh,” he panted. “Ahh, fuck you're hot!”

Jisung smiled to himself but only briefly. He gently pushed on Haneul's shoulder blade, and she fell forward on her hands on the bed again. He wanted to see more of her, the watch the sex as it unfolded, and the sight of her gorgeous body made his dick throb inside her.

He ran his hands up and down her sides and admired her spine from behind. He glanced down at his shaft going in and out of her body as he thrust his hips a little faster. And he took a firm grip around her hips to shove his dick deeper inside her, by pulling her onto the shaft with force.

“You're so gorgeous,” he said softly. “Mm, mmpfh,” he groaned and fucked her harder.

His pelvis started clapping against her cheeks. She arched her spine and put her head down on a pillow. She turned around to see him in the corner of her eye, and he grabbed her arms while leaning further and further backwards.

She bounced onto his cock and Jisung grinned, realizing that they had come far since that first time when they kissed in a pool in the Philippines. For a moment while he stretched her and pulled her onto his length, and leaned as far back as he could while holding on to her out-stretched arms, he couldn't even recall the sex from back then at all.

This was different. Wilder, hotter, and so much better. It made all their past encounters feel like child's play.

Haneul closed her eyes and grimaced. “Ah-ah-ah-ah,” she said each time Jisung pulled her hard and thrust his dick deep inside her.

He too grimaced and groaned: “Uh-uh-uh-uh!” His voice was shaking with each jerk.

The faster he went the louder the clapping got. And the harder he pulled the more twisted their faces became. Soon he was about to burst again and shoot his load into the condom while they held on for dear life.

Haneul knew it was coming but didn't want it to stop. To prolong the experience she suddenly sat up straight again, and pulled her ass away which caused Jisung's dick to fall out and his flexing body to nearly fly backwards.

She swirled around and faced him. She put a hand on his chest when he relaxed on his knees and folded legs. She smiled at his strained and flustered expression and the sight of his beaten dick before she came in for a kiss.

They made out, while he regained his strength and she moved closer and closer to his body. Eventually she spread her knees and raised her ass, scooted all the way in and sat down on his lap again.

He pushed and pulled on her hips and ass as they made out. She rolled her waist and pressed her breasts against his chest and neck. He occasionally looked down and kissed them, buried his head between them and licked her nipples, before returning to her lips and holding her steady with an arm around her back.

Haneul tilted sideways and nearly fell off him. Jisung waddled on his knees to change directions and Haneul's shoulder hit the wall. It helped her relax and feel comfortable as she leaned against it, and allowed him to pull his head away and admire her gorgeous figure from the front.

They looked at each other with lust, love and passion. For the first time since they reunited Jisung wondered if there could be more between them. And as she studied his body and felt his chest and shoulders, Haneul wondered the exact same thing.

“Fuck me again,” she said and giggled when she playfully grabbed his cock between their stomachs. “Can you go one more time?”

Jisung smirked at her, then closed his eyes and grunted when she squeezed the shaft.

“Yeah,” he blurted out and looked at her again. “You make me so fucking hard. I could come inside you all day and night.”

“Then come here,” Haneul said and smiled seductively, while pulling the dick to bring him in.

Her thighs slid down on his as he raised his ass to bring the dick within reach of her folds. She had her upper back against the wall and an out-stretched arm around his neck. They both looked down as the head found the hole and pushed in, and became engulfed by her folds one more time on this amazing day.

They kissed while the shaft slipped all the way in. She opened her mouth and moaned when he filled her up. He felt a strong sensation run from the shaft and through his body, when they quickly began to fuck for the last time this afternoon.

One more passionate round, one more cum-filled condom, before the others inevitably would return and put an end to the erotic games.

Before long Jisung's whole body was tense again. Every muscle in him worked hard as he thrust repeatedly into his girl. Her back rubbed against the wall, her grip around his neck was firm, and she bounced back and forth on his crotch until she screamed his name and experienced her most mind-blowing orgasm yet.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah!” she squealed with each hard bounce.

“Yes, yes, yes, YES!” she screamed when she was on the edge.

“AHH, AHHHHH, JISUNG, JISUUUUNG!” she yelled when the orgasm hit her hard.

Jisung remained quiet and tense, until she came on him and he could no longer prolong his own high. He allowed himself to release, which caused his face to go from completely twirled up to droopy as he stopped clutching his teeth and opened his mouth wide.

“AH!” he grunted, a short and rapid blurt when he climaxed. “AH! AH!” he repeated as his body jolted, shoving the dick deep into the hole in strong and abrupt bursts.

Her orgasm lasted seven seconds. His was over in one. When they both came down from their intense highs her body collapsed against the wall and he fell into her arms with a jolt.

He held on tight around her body as not to fall backwards. She clung to his neck and shoulders while he panted into her boobs. Her vagina tensed and sucked hard on the shaft which caused him to grimace and groan one more time.

The dick remained engaged as they caught their breaths. Her folds kept squeezing and sucking every last drop of cum out of him.

“That was incredible,” Jisung said when the vagina loosened and he managed to breath normally.

“You fucked my brains out,” Haneul said and managed a chuckle between deep and rapid inhalations.

“Yeah,” Jisung said and smirked, then kissed her nipple again. “Fuck you're amazing.”

Haneul laughed when his tongue licked her sensitive skin. She pulled herself into his arms and he looked up. Their mouths met and they kissed while breathing hot air into each other.

Then they laughed and fell onto the bed with a thumb, rolling over while embracing lovingly.

Jisung pulled his ass away and the dick fell out of the pussy. It felt great to be inside her, but good to be released too. He lay on his side and glanced down with a focused expression, as she sat up and carefully removed the condom from his still hard boner and tied it up.

He turned on his back and panted at the ceiling. She leaned in over him and dropped the condom down with the others, between the bed and her temporary mattress on the floor.

Finally she lay down next to him, put her head on his chest and watched and felt his stomach go up and down.

Jisung stretched his arms and kissed her head, then smiled wide at the ceiling. Mind-blowing, he thought to himself, spent but completely satisfied.

-> Part 3 (the final part) will be posted on Monday, February 10, 2025.