#this is the first piece I’ve finished in a hot minute

[v1sexual]

that’s a wrap 🎬 ; vi (arcane)

a behind the senes arcane modern au ! (bcs wtf was that ending)

note : this fic (like all of my other ones) are a bit (a lot actually) self indulgent. this will also be in a third person’s point of view because i’m trying to get used (and get better) writing in a 3rd person’s pov. this is also lowkey a vi x reader *sighs*, i just love my gf so bad ya’ll.

p.s. the character names are also their names in ‘real life’ (because i said so).

cw : spoilers for arcane act 3, swearing,

unedited & not proofread

ever since she got her dream role as one of the leading cast in arcane, she started filming bits and pieces of how the show came to life (with the consent of everyone involved of course). since the filming of season 1 up to season 2 act three, (name) has compiled an hour worth of uncut behind the scenes content that she and the cast planned on releasing during the opening premiere for the last act of arcane.

“you ready shortcake?” (name)’s girlfriend called out, just as she finished putting a thin sheet of lipgloss on her lips. “almost done violet,” she called out, putting her shoes one.

(name) took one last look at herself in the full body mirror, admiring her hard work. she wore a dark red dress paired with sheer black elbow length gloves, and black platform heels with red accents (that violet gifted you a couple months ago).

after shoving her phone inside a red clutch, (name)’s bedroom door opened. violet stood in front of her. she wore a two-piece suit with a dark red button-up blouse tucked inside her pants, the first couple of buttons of the blouse were undone, and her hair (at least the ones on the side of her head that wasn’t shaved) was in a messy slick back.

“absolutely gorgeous,” vi whispered under her breath. she walked towards (name), she placed her hands on her girlfriend’s hips before leaning down to kiss her. “flatterer,” (name) giggled as she pressed a finger against vi’s lips, preventing vi from kissing her.

vi nipped at her girlfriend’s gloved finger, “i speak the truth, and nothing but the truth.” she whispered.

(name) hummed, smiling lovingly as her girlfriend. “thank you baby, you look amazing yourself. hot even.”

a loud noise came from (name) and vi’s phone, interrupting their moment.

“we need to go violet, it’s almost time for the premiere.” (name) exclaimed excitedly, breaking away from her girlfriend. she held onto vi’s arm and practically dragged her outside.

“i don’t get a kiss before we go?” vi pouted, (name) rolled her eyes before pressing a quick peck on vi’s lips then proceeded to get inside the passenger seat of her girlfriend’s car. vi sighed, shaking her head before she went inside the driver seat and thinking how she’d make you pay later for not giving her a proper kiss.

ꕀ

let’s just say that everyone was bawling after premiering the last three episodes of arcane. (name) sat in between vi and her sister powder (whose head was resting against ekko’s shoulder) practically vibrating with excitement as the producers went on stage to thank everyone, especially the fans, for coming to the premiere.

it was almost time to present the special behind the scenes video (name) made. everyone knew of the special little project but no one has really seen it, not the director, the producers, or even her loving girlfriend. soon enough, she was called on stage for a little speech and to present the video.

“hi everyone,” she started, voice shaking a bit. “first of all i would like to thank you for coming to tonight’s premiere. it’s been an honor to work with you for the past couple of years. as you all know, i’ve been compiling tons of little snippets of us ever since the production of arcane has started. all in all, i’ve collected an hour’s worth of behind the scenes content. since i didn’t want to keep all of us in here for another hour or so i’ve edited the video and out came the 10 minute behind the scenes compilation that i’m about to play. but don’t worry, i’ve already uploaded the original uncut version to the shared online album for everyone to view.”

a series of murmurs and giggles filled the audience as (name) gave herself a second to pause. “anyways,” you cleared your throat. “without further ado, i present, arcane : behind all the heartbreak and drama, enjoy!”

when (name) sat down next to her girlfriend, the video started rolling.

ꕀ

scene one.

the camera unfocused and focused as a young looking (name) had her face up to close to it’s lens. she had a cheeky smile on her face.

“hi guys! it’s (name) and today is the first day of filming arcane!” she then proceeded to flip the camera and did a little trailer tour. she the went outside where she introduced everyone in the cast as well as the director and producers.

scene two.

the video cuts to what seems to be the scene where the battle between silco and vander happened. (name) shows the audience the set, some of the special effects, and had the actresses for young vi and powder do a little question and answer for her.

“hey girls!” she called out. the two children ran towards her, giddy smiles on their faces. it was right after filming the scene of vi and powder’s falling out, when vi called powder a jinx.

“how does the nose feel?” (name) asked, gingerly touching child powder’s nose that hade fake blood dripping from it. the child shrugged, replying “i’ve had worse. she punches like a little girl.” which made the tween who played young vi roll her eyes.

“that’s a bunch of bull! she cried actual tears, like real tears! she totally wasn’t acting”

(name) sighed and left the two children to playfully argue before the camera cuts to vander and silco. the two men were taking a nap on the side of the set, both had their arms crossed and head leaning against the wall. “they truly are brother,” she spoke into the camera.

the scene cuts again, this time (name) was with the kids who played mylo and claggor.

“as you can see i am not dead,” mylo shouted at the camera, a cheeky grin on his face. while claggor imitates mylo’s death scene, his hand clutching where the steel bar pierces mylo’s skin before dramatically falling to the ground and laughing his ass off.

scene three.

(name)’s camera was propped up against a mirror, she was currently in the hair and make-up booth with jayce, viktor, and mel. she held her mic against her, “so my dearest mel, how does it feel to have everyone wish they were jayce during that one scene?” (name) wiggled her eyebrows as mel began laughing uncontrollably.

“all i can say is i’d rather have the beautiful zaunite enforcer rather than the golden boy,” mel said jokingly into the mic, referring to (name)’s character in the show. making everyone in the dressing room laugh.

the scene then cuts to what seems to be (name) reading people’s tweets regarding the show to the rest of the cast.

“jayce this one’s directed to you,” (name) said in between laughs. “i hate hate hate jayce talis. imagine being in the lap of a literal goddess but all you is cry and whine about your historic twink bag fumble.”

jayce was dumbfounded as everyone doubled up in laughter. “what the fuck is that supposed to mean?!?” he shouted. poor boy looked so confused, he looked like he had stroke trying to understand what historic twink bag fumble meant.

“this last one is for vik,” (name) started as the laughter died down (jayce still consfused in the background, asking vi what ‘historic twink bag fumble’ meant). “one of the fans said, ‘can i lick-“ almost immediately (name) started laughing.

“they said ‘can i lick viktor’s hextechticles.’” almost immediately everyone started laughing again, the sounds of boisterous laughter filled the room.

viktor’s cheeks tinted pink, he gripped his stomach as he laughed. “i have no idea how to respond to that.” he wheezed into the mic.

scene four.

“good morning everyone!” (name) exclaimed, waving at the camera. “we have my fave girl with us. the one, the only, caitlyn!”

the blue haired girl grinned, “but i’m not your favorite-“ she said in a teasing tone before got she cut off.

“you are my favorite girl,” (name) huffed, a visible blush paints her cheek as caitlyn rolled her eyes playfully.

she then proceeded to do a quick set tour, showing the audience how it really looked like without any cgi and all that jazz. the scene ends with (name) and caitlyn yapping about routines or rituals that helped them get in the mood to play their characters.

scene five.

this clip was taken during the filming of season two. (name) smiled at camera, her fingers on her lips in a shushing expression then pans the camera behind her. she was in one of the dressing rooms, and in the corner was sevika, powder (dressed up as jinx), and isha, who were sound asleep.

“look at this cute little dysfunctional family,” (name) whispered. sevika had powder leaning on her shoulder as isha was sprawled on her lap.

scene six.

“don’t fret ya’ll she’s alive!” (name) shouted at the camera, holding isha out like a sacrificial lamb. the camera seemed like it was held by someone significantly taller than her, the angle looking a bit funny as she held isha up.

the child laughed, (name) then propped the kid on her hip. powder then walked in-frame, she took isha from (name)’s hold and helped the kid up on her shoulders. “SHE’S ALIVEEEE!” powder shouted before running around the set, her hands supporting the kid’s weight.

“i swear if she dropped the kid-“ a voice from behind the camera mumbled.

“they’re gonna be fine vi,” (name) laughed. “let them be.”

scene seven.

during this scene, instead of the usual (name) who filmed most (if not all) the videos, it was cait and powder who held the camera. a cheeky grin etched on their lips. the camera then flipped to show their surroundings.

lo and behold, it was vi. she was cocooned in a thick blanket snoring away without a care in the world. cait then proceeded to walk towards her. once close enough, she held the camera at an angle to show (name) who was tucked between vi’s legs, her head resting against vi’s chest with the blanket almost covering her whole body.

“aren’t they the cutest,” cait snickered.

“can’t beat the dating allegations now,” powder replied with a snort.

scene eight.

“i’m actually bawling,” (name) whispered into the camera before adjusting it to show the rest of the set. the others are currently in the middle of filming a scene for act 3, she zoomed the camera to powder and ekko. they were dancing as the song ‘ma meilleure ennemie’ played in the background.

mylo and claggor’s hushed voices joined (name)’s as she continued to film, then suddenly the camera was yanked away and mylo’s face entered the frame.

“for anyone wondering, they’re actually dating in real life.” mylo whispered, claggor then appeared next to him with an unamused expression. “that was supposed to be a secret! they’re not out in the public yet.” he scolded.

“well, you can tell by the chemistry and tension between them. doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together. have you seen the dating rumours?”

(name)’s sigh was visibly heard before snatching the camera. “if by then ekko and power hasn’t come out as a couple yet i’ll just cut this part out.” she murmured.

scene nine.

“what is everyone’s fave song from the series?” (name) said, reading aloud the question written in a piece of paper.

“that’s a tough one,” ambessa said.

“probably to ashes and blood,” sevika exclaimed, then nods of agreement and murmurs filled the room.

“mine’s a no brainer,” heimerdinger piped. “my favorite song is spin the wheel, sung by yours truly.” everyone laughed, a couple people agreed as others began playfully teasing heimerdinger.

(name) smiled at her friends before looking at the camera. “my favorite has to be our love or ma meillure ennemie.”

“enemy by imagine dragons!”

everyone then proceeded to sing the song, goofily making sound effects and lowering their voices.

scene ten.

(name) panned the camera up, she zoomed in on vi and powder as they acted one of the most heartbreaking scenes in act 3. vi’s gauntlet clutched powder’s hand as the blue haired girl dangled, vander, who was dressed in the pre-cgi warwick costume, held her, the wires supporting their weights.

tears streamed down vi’s face as she looked down at her sister, she opened her mouth to deliver her line but nothing came out.

“crap, i forgot the line. wait.” she called out, smiling sheepishly.

the director sighed, “cut! let’s roll that again.”

powder laughed and shakes her head. “you fucking idiot.”

“cut it out you two,” vander scolded, his deep voice menacing yet playful.

“yeah, yeah.” vi replied, then held a thumbs up to signal that she was ready.

(name)’s laughs can be heard from behind the camera, she then flipped it to show her face. “you guys are about to hate every single thing about this scene i just know it.” caitlyn appeared next to her, she nursed a cup of coffee and smiled at the camera.

“be sure to keep your eyes open though,” was all caitlyn said before winking and walking away.

ꕀ

pictures taken from the set began to appear in a slideshow as the video ended. almost everyone was in shambles, especially the fans who were invited to come to the premiere. a round of applause echoed across the room as the producers step onto the stage again for the closing remarks.

the event ended a couple hours later than expected. the cast mingled, had a late dinner and a couple of drinks. everyone was enjoying themselves and having fun one last time before they went their separate ways.

“sad to think how i won’t be seeing everyone everyday now,” (name) whispered sadly as she and vi sat in one corner of the room. “i sure will miss everyone.”

vi draped an arm over her girlfriend’s shoulders, she leaned down until her face was adjacent to (name)’s. “not us though.” vi smiled teasingly.

“won’t you get tired of me though?” (name) asked, her hands cupped vi’s cheeks. her girlfriend snorted, acting as if she had just told a funny joke. “not by a long shot cupcake.”

the two leaned forward, their noses touching, lips only centimetres apart. just as about their lips met, cait’s voice startled them.

“i’m gonna have to borrow my best girl for a second vi,” she teased. “you can have (name) all to yourself later but for now we need to dance.”

the next thing (name) knew she was being dragged to dance floor by caitlyn, loud music blasting as her friend swayed. she looked back at vi who shrugged at her, a smile playing on her lips. (name) smiled before blowing her girlfriend a kiss. soon enough everybody joined them on the dance floor. ekko, powder, and isha danced in a circle, sevika who was reluctantly dragged by mel, jayce and viktor who gawked at heimerdinger (who was absolutely smashing the dance floor by the way), and then there was mylo who was talking to the dj as claggor did his best in becoming wingman of the year. some stayed seated and chose to drink, like silco, vander, and ambessa, who watched the others danced.

soon enough, the night finally ended. a couple people who were sober chaperoned those who were drunk, some opted to stay in nearby hotels. after saying their goodbyes, vi and (name) drove back to their shared apartment.

“that was fun,” (name) yawned as she plopped down on the couch, vi knelt in front of her started taking off her girlfriend’s shoes.

“tired?” she asked, rubbing the soles of (name)’s sore feet making the smaller girl groan. she responded with a soft ‘yes’, before closing her eyes. the sensation of vi’s lips making it’s way up her thigh startled her, her eyes fluttered open as she looked down.

vi smiled pressing another kiss on her girlfriend’s thigh before hiking them up and resting them on her shoulders. (name)’s dress pooled at her upper thigh, exposing her soft skin. “you sure?” vi whispered.

“mmm,” (name) hummed. “maybe not too tired.” she answered, making her girlfriend chuckle.

“good,” vi murmured against (name)’s skin. “because you’re in for a long night shortcake.”

[kitten-kokomo]

Art! Practicing using a reference :)

Image reference:

And source

[lv2mt]

hungry

this is my first time writing smut feel free to give me any tips☺️

the sun was reflecting of his skin, sweat was dripping off his body, the way he would bite his lips out of frustration. you was mesmerized by the married man in font of you.

you had known art for a couple of years you both meet up a lot there has never been sexual tension between you and art but recently he's all you've ever needed.

art finished his practice and you both went back to his car, for some reason the car drive was silent but you didn't mind because being with him just made your mind go to the most dirtiest imagination.

"y/n?" art said breaking the silence "yeah" i took my eyes of the window to look at him, he looked frustrated like he needed something. "i need to talk to you about something" he looked back at me but his eyes travelled to my lips then back on the road.

my body knew what he wanted and it turned me on even more. "sure what's up?" his hand gripped on the wheel making his hand pop out in veins. "this tension between us, i can't help but want you" i was shocked hearing that come out his mouth but it made me hungry for him.

i didn't know what to say i wanted him to have me, do anything to me but i just couldn't think of how to word it. "this tension i feel it your all i can think about but you have a wife art i don't want to ruin that for you" i said still looking at him but then looked out the window to notice he's pulled up in some empty parking lot.

he turned his head to look at me, his eyes was cold like he was demanding that he wanted me. “don’t worry about her” his tone of voice sounded so careless but it was attractive.

i couldn’t hold it in anymore i took the lead and kissed him, his lips was soft our lips just felt meant for each other like a jigsaw piece.

he slipped his tongue in my mouth, one hand traveling to my hips as the other on my cheek. our breaths filling up the car, all i could think about was him in me i needed it, i needed it now.

“you don’t know how much i’ve been needing this” art said in between kissing, “oh yea baby” his lips moving down to my neck marking it as his and i loved it.

he pulled back his seat and i sat on his lap his hand traveling up my summer dress, his fingers rubbing my heat feeling the wetness of my panties. “already this wet hm” his voice sounded so hot “mhm”

his fingers now in me, at first he was going slow i knew what he wanted, he wanted me to beg and that’s what i did “art go faster please” he smiled looking at me, mesmerised by the woman who’s begging for him. his pace fastens even putting another finger up me, my head on his chest moaning.

“you feel so good” i try to say “oh yea?” art replies back then slowing his pace and pulling out his fingers, he then continues to lick the cum of them, i needed him in me i couldn’t wait much longer but he already knew that.

i lifted up a bit so he could take his shorts and boxers off while i took my thong off, we didn’t have a condom but i was on the pill so that didn’t matter. “you ready baby” he asked i nodded in approval.

his big dick going in me stretching me out, my eyes watering from the slight pain but that soon went as i started to thrust on him making us both moan.

the car shaking making it obvious what we was doing on the outside but we didn’t care, the thought of us getting caught just made it even more sexy.

our lips numbing from the force of us making out. “y/n i’m gonna cum” them words coming out his mouth triggered me to go even faster. hearing the moans and grunts coming out his mouth was like listening to music.

the faster i got the more closer we both was so coming it wouldn’t take long now. his hands gripped on my waist and his head rolled back leaving a empty space on his neck, i kissed all down it making one of his hand grip on my hair.

a couple of minutes went by and i felt his warm load in me and mine on his. he was still in me but we was still, not moving and now just catching our breaths. i lifted myself back up making his dick exit me.

he put his boxer and shorts back on n i put my panties back on making us now clothed again. “your neck” art said shocked of what he did, i moved and sat back in the passenger seat getting my phone and looking in the camera.

my eyes widened the trail of hickeys all down my neck “oh my god art!” i said but i didn’t bother me it shows that i am now his. we both laughed about my neck “i guess i was just in the moment to even realise” we both just laughed and smiled at each other.

“that was fun” i said hoping to get the same response back “we should do it again be our little secret” i once again nodded my head as approval and he gave me a peck on my head.

[persephone411]

Under the skin (JT x Reader)

Summary: you get your first tattoo from a very attractive tattoo artist

You took a deep breath before you opened the door to Teller Morrow. This was it. You we’re actually going to get your first tattoo. An exited giggle escaped you. During the whole time between the making of the appointment till today you had expected of you to drop out and cancel. But now you were here. With slightly shaking legs you enter the tattoo studio. It was kept in the industrial style with a dark wood floor and exposed brick walls. Dozens of sketches and pictures of finished tattoos cover the walls. A black leather couch was to your left.

“Hey. I’m Gemma. how can I help you?” A brown haired woman behind counter asked you with a polite smile.

“Uhm hi. I am here for my appointment. It’s at half past one” you nearly stammer. The woman nods and checks her computer.

“Yeah, you send your design in a mail, your first tattoo right ?”

“Yes, how do you know?” You asked surprised but Gemma only laughed

“Sweetheart, only first time clients are so nervous, plus you also wrote it in the mail”

“Oh yeah right” you say while laughing akwardly.

“Hey, everything is fine. What will happen now is that I’ll print out the design you send a few times in a few sizes and you can see which one you like the best ok?”

“Yes, thank you. I guess I’m just excited ” you smile while the printer works.

“And that’s totally normal. A tattoo is a big thing, but I assure you after you get your first, you will get more. It’s always like that”

Gemma says while cutting out the design.

“Alright, I printed out three different sizes. You can always say If I should print out more. The placement was the hip ?”

“Yes” you answer and carefully take the smallest of the pieces. Quickly you noticed that the moment you held it in your hand, you fell even more in love with the design and the idea of having it as a tattoo. After a bit you chose the middle size. Not too big, not too small.

“Alright perfect. It’s a really beautiful design. I’m sure it will look amazing on you sweetheart” Gemma says with a motherly smile.

You smiled and she nodded at the leather couch

“How about you take a seat. I’ll bring you some water, hydration is important. My son should be done in a few minutes”

“Your son?” You ask interested and Gemma nods

“Yes, it’s a family business. Here”

She gave you a glass of water, then sat down next to you.

The next minutes you spend taking. You told her the story behind your tattoo idea and she shared her tattoo stories plus the history of the studio. Just as you were about to compliment one of her tattoos on her arm, someone new stepped into the room.

“Alright, We are done”

You turned your head towards the new voice and your eyes widened.

Fuck he was gorgeous

Long blond hair, blue eyes and a blonde beard. He wore white trainers, baggy jeans and a white oversize T shirt. Tattoos were covering his arms. You were so struck that you didn’t even notice the other man, probably his previous client standing next to him

“Ah, perfect, your next customer is already here”

Gemma stood up and you followed.

“This is my son, he will be doing your tattoo” she introduced him and he shook your hand

“Hey, I’m Jax” he said with a mischievous wink.

You introduced yourself and Jax smirked

“Alright, then follow me, you got your design?”

“Yes” you showed him the piece of paper.

Shortly before Jax guided you into the separate room, Gemma called him back

“Be gentle with her, it’s her first time”

Jax nods understandingly

“I’m always gentle at the first time” he said and you blushed at the innuendo.

Then he walks to you into the tattoo room.

“Alright darling, first time eh?” While he spoke he started to stretch himself.

“Excuse me. I’ve worked on that one piece for hours now you can probably imagine what my back feels like after being in one position for so long“

He groaned and a hot shiver rand down your spine.

“No I get it. Don’t worry” you assure him quickly.

He nods but then gets serious.

“Alright princess, where should the tattoo go?” While he spoke his gaze slowly wandered over your body and another shudder went through you. Why did he have to be so attractive?

“I thought about the left hip bone” you tell him and he nods.

“It’s a good spot. Sexy”

You smiled and Jax walked over to his desk to prepare the stencil.

“So, how long have you been doing this?” You ask him

“Now around 14 years i think. I started by doing my first stick and poke on my own leg. I was just a rebellious teen. You know the drill. Then I started to design my own stuff out of boredom. I grew up with this whole tattoo culture. I mean you’ve seen my mom’s tattoos and everything. So when I was 20 I leaned it professionally and we opened up the shop”

While he talked you listened attentively. You loved the way he talked. While staring at his back you notice a few darker spots under the white of the shirt.

“Do you have a back tattoo?” You asked curiously and he nodded.

“Yeah, got it when I was done with the training. It took multiple sessions, still remember the pain. I’ll show it to you once I am done with your stencil”.

He worked for a minute or so in comfortable silence, then he got up.

“This is the stencil, and this is my back piece”

Your eyes widened as he started to strip out of his shirt.

“Wow, that is impressive” you said as you saw the huge sons of anarchy tattoo on his back.

“Yeah, it also hurt as hell go get it. The spine was the worst. You can touch it if you want to. No need to be shy”

He said.

Hesitantly you reached out to touch the ink on his back, tracing the letters.

“That’s insane” you murmur and quickly pull back as a shudder goes through Jax

“It’s fine. Just a bit sensitive on the back”

He explained while turning around to face you. Again your eyes widened. This time because of his naked torso. It was perfection. Although you’ve never seen an actual naked Greek god, you were sure that they looked like Jax Teller.

“You like what you see?“

Jax chuckled as you blushed and started to stammer while avoiding his gaze.

,,It’s fine. I’m just teasing” He said with a playful wink. You nodded and watched as he grabbed his shirt. Quickly he pulled it over his head, then he grabbed the stencil for your tattoo.

“So, where should it go?” He asked and you pulled your shirt up and your pants down slightly to show him the spot you chose. Just on the hipbone. Perfectly hidden from everyone except for the people who you wanted to see it. Jax nods, then without a warning gets down on his knees in front of you. Carefully he presses the stencil against your skin, holding it for a bit and then peeling it off.

“Is this ok? There is a mirror. If it is too high, too low or anything, just tell me. I can do it again”

You nod and walk over to the huge mirror. Eying the blue mark on your left hip. Behind you Jax was still on his knees, watching you.

“Maybe a bit higher” you said and he nods, getting up to get some wet wipes.

Carefully he wiped the blue ink off the stencil off your skin.

Goosebumps form on your body as you feel his breath on your naked skin, tickling you slightly. Jax places the stencil again, this time slightly higher. You watch as he bit his lip in concentration.

“How about now?” He asked and you walk back to the mirror.

“Can you do it a bit more right?” You asked hesitantly.

“Sure” again he wiped off the old stencil and placed it a bit more right. You checked it out again and nod with a happy smile.

“Perfect”

“That’s what I want to hear. You can then lay down on the table and I’ll prepare everything” Jax instructed you.

You did as he told you and watched as he prepared the ink and the tattoo machine. Then he grabbed a black hair tie and pulled his hair into a small bun.

Fuck he was even more attractive now.

With his stool he rolled over to you and watched as you exposed your hip area again.

“I’ll start now and if anything feels wrong, You tell me. We can pause it anytime ok?”

He told you, his voice serious.

You nod and laid down comfortably, focusing on your breath.

Again you couldn’t really belive it, you were actually getting a tattoo !

You felt his gloved Hand on your hip, then he started. It was less painful than you thought it would be. Mostly just a bit of a tickle with a slight burn from time to time.

“How are you doing?”

He asked after a bit, his hand absentmindedly caressing your skin

“Good so far, it’s not as bad as I thought It would be” you murmur while staring at the ceiling.

“Good. If anything happens, tell me”

You nod and he started again.

It was a nearly relaxing process. The buzzing sound of the machine, the tickling on your hip and the quiet rock music in the background. But your favorite feeling by far was his hand on your skin. Although he wore a glove you could feel his warmth, and sometimes his cool breath.

“You mentioned that your first tattoo was a stick and poke on your leg?” You asked after a bit and he hummed.

“Yes, I was 16 and my best friend and me thought it was a cool idea. I tried to do the Harley Davidson logo. But it looked rather bad. Couldn’t get one line straight”

He chuckled and shook his head. You watched him silently. A strand of blonde hair had fallen out his bun ad he bit his lower lip in concentration. As he reached a new spot you nearly flinched. It was much more painful than the rest.

“Shh. It’s alright. We’re over the hip bone now. The skin is thinner” Jax explained and stopped for a bit

“And here I was, nearly falling asleep” you joked. He chuckled and pushed the strand out of his face

“Tell me when I can start again. Did you eat or drink before coming here?”

“Yeah, I had breakfast” you answered. As you two talked you couldn’t help but love how calm and relaxed everything was. Jax really made sure that you were feeling comfortable and for a bit you wondered how it would be to be friends with him, or maybe even to be more. Just as you dreamt about snuggling in his arms on a couch in front of a TV, Jax spoke again.

“Is everything alright ? You seem a bit lost in your head” his blue eyes watched you attentively.

“Yeah, you can start again” you nod towards the tattoo machine in his hand.

He nodded and continued to tattoo you.

“We’re now halfway done” he informed you after a bit.

“What are some of the craziest tattoos you’ve ever done?” You asked.

He thought for a moment then answered: ”I think I have a few specials. Sentimental, funny or plain stupid. But no bad tattoos. I don’t do bad tattoos”

You giggled at his cocky tone.

“Someone’s confident”

He laughed and you nearly melted. It was nearly criminal for someone to be that attractive.

“So? What tattoos did you do?”

“Hmm let’s see. I did my first real one on my best friend, that was quite special. Once time I tattooed a couple which was married for nearly 70 years. That was probably the one time where couple tattoos aren’t stupid. I have lots of sentimental tattoos, like pets who died or the names of children. In regard to funny tattoos… A girl once wanted me to tattoo her vagina. She made sure to ask for me specifically“

“And ? Did you do it?” You asked curiously but Jax only smirked

“What do you think?”

Your eyes widened and he chuckled.

The next minutes was a comfortable silence between you two. Although you had so many questions for him (like what is the favourite tattoo you ever did? Are you single? Can we get married ?) you didn’t say anything. After a bit he broke the silence.

“I’m nearly done sweetheart”

You bit your lip in disappointment. You didn’t want him to be done. To be honest, you would love to fall asleep right here, with his big warm hands on your skin and the quiet buzzing of the machine.

“Do you have a website or a portfolio?” You ask Jax, curious about his work. His own work.

“Yeah. I have a folder and also a instagram page If you are interested. Oh and you can also DM me anytime if you think about getting a touch up or other tattoo related stuff”

“Yeah, that would be great” you smiled, already excited to stalk his social media.

The tattoo machine stopped and you sat up slowly.

“Careful, you could feel a bit dizzy from lying down for so long“ Jax gently grabbed your arm and you blinked a few times.

“I think I’m good. Thank you” you smiled and slid off the tattoo table. Jax was still holding you as you walked over to the big mirror to inspect your tattoo. It looked even more perfect than you expected it to be. The shading was perfect.

“Wow” you say quietly.

“You like it?” Jax was towering behind you, a smile on his face.

“Yeah, it’s absolutely amazing. I love it. Thank you so much”

“I’m glad to hear it” you shivered at the slight purr in his voice.

The next minutes Jax put the second skin onto your fresh tattoo and explained the aftercare to you. Like mesmerised you listened to his voice, barely acknowledging what he said.

“Good. I think we’re done. It was an honor to be your first time and I hope I’ll get to tattoo you again”

Jax smiled and loosely wrapped an arm around you while he led you out of the room.

“And? How did it went?” Gemma asked as soon as you entered the main room of the studio.

“It went well and the tattoo truly looks amazing” you said while beaming. Jax chuckled, visibly proud of himself. You showed Gemma the tattoo and she nodded.

“Good work there son. I hope you treated her like a lady”

“I did. Don’t worry”

The payment process was quick and simple and you thanked Jax again.

“No problem sweetheart. It was a pleasure and hey, maybe we’ll see each again”

You smiled and waved him and Gemma Goodbye.

On your way to the car you opened instagram and found the sons of Anarchy account as well as Jax personal account. The moment you saw the first of his own tattoo designs (and a shirtless picture) you knew you would come back.

[gh0stsp1d3r]

Willy and y/n just met and they talked about their dreams together like Willy wants to be the best chocolatier while y/n wants to be the best seamstress there ever was and they were each other’s first customers like y/n tried his chocolates and Willy let y/n fix his coat and when she finished Willy accidentally says I love you and y/n said it back and then both realized they said I love you to one another

so sorry this took a little to finish, anon ):

ℬ𝒾𝓁𝓁𝒷ℴ𝒶𝓇𝒹𝓈

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

You had first met him when he came in to your newly opened shop, a rip in his coat had caused him to land at your front door. The place was colorfully decorated, and it was neat.

“Hello! How can I help you?” You said happily, you had just opened up today and he had been your first customer.

“Hi!” He said back, your excitement was radiating off of you practically. He reciprocated it. He walked up to the desk you were behind.

“I just ripped this on my boat, and you were the first seamstress I’ve come across. Could you… by any chance fix it?” He held up his coat in his hands, showing the clean rip. It was small, thankfully.

“Okay. Yeah, easy fix. Should take only a few minutes. If you want you can take a seat, or stand. There’s food and drinks over there.”

“For free?”

You nodded, smiling at the man. He smiled back and quickly walked over to the food and drinks, after not having eaten for hours.

He watched from afar as you sat down in your little room, carefully sewing and mending it. You were engulfed in it, and you were very fast.

Once it was done, it looked just as it did before, as if the tear had never existed.

He smiled as you handed it to him, he put it over his shoulders.

“Thank you…” he said, not finishing his sentence as if waiting for your name.

“Y/n. You are?”

“Willy Wonka.” He held his hand out for you to shake, you shook it, and you didn’t realize the piece of chocolate he had slid into your hand upon doing so.

You smiled and looked at it. “You’re a chocolate maker?”

“Indeed I am.” He said, rummaging through his pockets for his sovereigns.

He found 2, handing both to you.

“Only one is fine-“ you said, but he slid both to you anyways.

He shrugged, “it’s a gift.”

You smiled. “You know, you’re my first customer.”

“Really? Well, you’re the first person I’ve given my chocolate to.”

You looked back down at the chocolate wrapped in gold foil. You smiled as you put it into your mouth, he watched for your reaction. You smiled, it was delicious. Probably one of the best- if not the best- thing you’ve ever had.

“It’s amazing. Way better than anything from the gallery.” You said, shocked at it.

“You think so? That’s exactly where I’m headed.”

————————————————————-

Now days later, you both walked down the streets. You both walked with no worries in the world, not ms Scrubitt, not the police, not the chocolate cartel.

It was cold out, and you held a hot chocolate made specially for you from Willy.

“You know, I think you’re gonna be the best chocolatier ever.” You said once you both sat down.

“Yeah?” He asked with a smile, looking at you.

“Yeah.”

“Well, I think you’re gonna be the most famous seamstress. I can already see your name on billboards.”

You smiled at him, and you rested your head onto his shoulder.

“Mmm. You think I can do it?”

“I know you can.” His fingers traced over the spot on his coat that you once sewed and fixed for him.

You smiled again, getting up and giving him a small kiss on the cheek.

“I love you.” He says quietly when you set your head back on his shoulder.

“I love you.” You shut your eyes, not even realizing what you had said until after.

[merowkittie]

hiii! I was thinking about fem reader asking hobie to pierce her nipples bc she thinks it’ll look cute to which he agrees. but when he gets them done he’s literally so horny bc of how hot they make fem reader look..

hope you have a great day/night <3

Thanks :), you too, sweets!

Piercing Problems — Hobie Brown

Summary: Hobie gets a little horny while piercing your tits.

Warnings: lots of talk about your boobs / very suggestive / not proof read I’m sorry but it’s 2AM / talks of needles, piercings / a short smut scene (a flashback) / umm I think that’s it..

Sorry is he’s ooc, still trying to figure out his character also this was rushed because this was requested a good week or two ago..

Hobie was back at it again with piercing your body.

He had you sitting on the counter in your shared bathroom. Your locs were put up in a bun behind your head with some pieces hanging out and framing your soft face.

You were dangling your legs from your sitting position, swinging them back and forth, waiting for your boyfriend to finish getting his stuff together to pierce your nipples.

To say you were scared was an understatement. You were sure this would feel like you were dying and you were 100% sure you’d pass out in the process. Hobie had told you that you didn’t have to do it but you thought about all the perks about getting them.. and they were really cute!

“Ya ready, love?” He turned to you with a sharpie in hand. He walked move in front of you to be standing between your legs.

You nodded your head and lifted your shirt up to reveal your hardened nipples. They were cold from the chilly air of the bathroom. Hobie cupped your breasts, fondling them childishly.

You kicked him in the thigh and sighed. “Stop! Mark the area already and pierce it.. I’m going to piss on myself, I’m so fucking scared Hobie.”

He looked at you and rolled his eyes. He pressed a kiss to each of your nipples and then to your lips as a way to reassure you. You knew he knew what he was doing but he liked to play a lot.. too much.

Here’s how the conversation went with him to even agreeing to pierce your nipples in the first place:

“Mm.. fuck! Hobie, please..!” You placed your hand on his head somewhere in his wicks and tugged his further into your body.

His lips were attached to your nipples and his fingers inside of your cunt. His fingers were pumping in and out of you at a fast pace. Your hips were meeting his motions but stopped after you felt your cunt start to squeeze him hard and your stomach felt so full.

“Please what, babe?” He stopped his fingers for a moment, waiting to here the words he was looking for from your pouty lips.

You whined and whimpered at the loss of his thrusting fingers. You tried to move on your own but he held down your hips with his free hand.

“Please.. Please B, I need to cum so bad! I need you..” you looked at him with your lust blown eyes and he nodded, biting at your nipple which made you yelp.

“There you go, baby punk. I’ve gotcha ya. Lemme hear those pretty noises, yea?” He smirked up at you when he saw your eyes roll back in your head as his fingers started their movements again.

When you two finished, you kind of just laid around watching movies and talking mindlessly about stuff. Your nipples ached because of all the biting and sucking Hobie was doing to them. They were so sensitive. Though, how would it feel if you had piercings? I mean besides the feeling you thought they’d look cute on your breasts.

“B. What do you think about nipple piercings?” You peered up at him.

He didn’t say nothing at first, seemingly in thought and then nodded.

“Yea, they’re hot. What about ‘em?” He questioned, his eyes now on you. He knew where this was going but he just wanted to hear it from you.

You hummed. You didn’t know if you were very sure about your decision so you sat in silence for a minute, thinking it over. The pros and cons. The pain, pleasure, what about it be like? Then you were like fuck it.

“I want ‘em. I think they’re cute. What do you think, querido?” You bit your lips in anticipation of his response.

“I think you’d look quite lush.” He smirked at you. Instantly agreeing with this decision and he wouldn’t mind piercing it for you.

Now here you two were in your bathroom, at probably four in the morning, piercing your nipples.

You prayed a good six times during the prep process. You really weren’t one to handle pain well. A bit dramatic people would say.

After Hobie marked little dot indications on your nipples he placed the clamp on one and you gasped.

“What the fuck. B! That shit hurts. Is it supposed to feel this tight?” You winced as he adjusted it a bit and grabbed the needle.

He shrugged, “I wouldn’t know, lovie. How did it feel when I pierced your stomach?” He raised a brow waiting for you to respond.

You thought for a second and it felt pretty similar.

“The same way.”

“Then you’re good, shut your gob.”

You huffed and playfully kicked him again. He was getting annoying.

“Alright Alright. Don’t move, I’m gonna pierce ya now.” He grabbed the needle from the napkin he placed down besides you and steadily aligned it with the mark on your nipple. “Count with me, one?”

You felt the needle start to poke you and sucked in a breath, Hobie gave you a look and you let out a shaky breath. “Tw- FUCK!”

Before you got done saying two Hobie already put the needle through and slid the bar through your bud and quickly screwed the ball onto it.

“Oh my god, Hobie. Are you mental?” You stared at him wide eyed. Your face scrunched up in disbelief and confusion. You had tears coming down your face and you didn’t know what to do with your emotions at the moment.

He snickered at your reaction and clamped your other nipple, preparing for the next piercing. He cleaned the needle he used and the bar. He already cleaned the area he was gonna pierce and marked it. He thought you were doing alright, could tone it down with the screams cause it was, super early in the morning. You guys didn’t need another noise complaint.

As he started to line the needle up with your nipple he asked you a question, “Did you know Gwen and Miles kissed? Finally, right?”

“What!” You exclaimed and then that turned into a muffled yelp as he did what he did last time, slipping the barbell in and quickly screwing on the ball.

“Yup. Lad took forever!” He chuckled.

Once he finished cleaning any blood from the piercings you took a look at them in the mirror. Your tits looked beautiful with the shiny silver of the piercing sticking out of it. Hobie was behind you admiring his handy work.. and how your nips looked. His hands came crawling up your aides and he cupped the bottom of your breasts, holding them up as they sat perky in his hands.

He kissed your temple and rubbed his hands up and down your stomach and back to your breasts. You knew what he was doing and you felt butterflies in your chest at his movements.

“You like them?” He asked you. It wasn’t really a question more of a statement.

“Hell yea. They’re awesome, B.” You smiled, tilting your head up at him and kissing his jaw.

He hummed and pinched your sensitive nipples, earning a whine and a playful swat from you. You could feel him press against you and you knew he was hard from just staring at your tits with the newly added piercing.

“You know.. I should repay you right?” You turned around and placed your hands on his chest. Looking him in the eyes you bit your lip. He nodded, as if to tell you to go on, “Do you want me to help you out with that?” One of you hands traveled down to the bulge in his boxers. Rubbing it slightly causing him to groan.

“Mhm.. I want a view of those tits when you ride me.”

[xoxxbilliexoxx]

Hard Days Turn to Hot Nights

I’ve had to repost this 3 times now because it keeps fucking up SORRY

Billie comes home from a stressful day of meetings and you help her feel better, turning her more submissive than she’s ever been with you.



you had been sitting on the couch waiting for billie to come home from her long day of meetings, scrolling on your phone to help pass the time. when the front door opened and shut you didn’t hear her usual greeting, the one that starts with her getting shark all riled up and excited with her squeals of love. the one that continues on to you, as she calls out your name in that cute little voice she loves to use.

concern filled the air around you when you heard nothing but foot steps and deep sighs. shark walked back to his bed, unenthused about the few little head scratches he received. as you turn around to see what’s going on, you see billie walking towards you. her suit jacket is already on the floor and as your gaze follows up her body, you see she’s unbuttoning the first few buttons of her shirt and pulling her tie, allowing it to hang loosely around her neck.

You finally make eye contact with her and as she gets closer to you, she lets out a deep sigh, the look of intense exhaustion worn on her face only getting heavier. billie grabs your face lightly with both her hands and pulls you in for a kiss as she stands above you next to the couch. when your lips pull apart, she sits down next to you and finally speaks, “fuck today has been horrible” she says as she lays her head down on ur lap and your hands naturally fall into her hair, stroking lightly, pulling all the pieces away from her eyes.

You let her relax for a couple of minutes, continuing to play with her hair. “wanna talk to me about ur day, it might make you feel better” you say, breaking the peaceful silence you both had fallen into. billie thought for a minute before sitting up, pulling her head off your lap and instantly making you cold and missing her presence. “I don’t think talking will help, I don’t even know what to say. it was just a fucking shitty day. all my meetings were stressful and it felt like nothing was getting done. tour is just about to start and i feel like no one is prepared.”

you sighed with her as she finished the last of her sentence, making sure she knew you heard her complaints. you rubbed her arms lightly and suddenly the energy shifted. the feeling of your fingers on her skin was making her shift her position slightly and her breathing felt lighter. you caught a look in her eye and all at once you knew exactly what your girlfriend really wanted.

“i can think of other ways to help make your day better, baby” your voice came out quieter than you intended but she heard you. Billie sat up a bit taller and pulled you by your hips to straddle her, breathing in deeply as you moved and letting the air come out of her lungs, forming the words you so desperately wanted to hear, “oh mama, you wanna make me feel better huh? what is it you’d like to do?”

she lifted your head by putting her index finger under your chin, lightly pushing until your eyes met hers. She was biting her lip and had that look in her eyes that just kills you every time. playful yet desperate, needy yet in control. “i can think of a few ways to relieve that stress of yours, but i think you should get to choose if i’m here to help you, right baby?”

as soon as you got the last words out she wrapped her hand around your throat, pulling you in tight for a kiss before pushing you away just enough for her to get her words out, her lips still grazing yours as she smiles, “be a good girl and go get the strap for me, pick which ever one you want, okay?”

as you get up to walk away billie lightly slaps your ass and winks, unbuttoning her pants and smirking at you. as you walked back to her, your favorite strap in your hand, you feel the wet spot on your pink lacey thong get bigger. you groan quietly as you see billie in front of you, wearing nothing but her shirt and loose tie, legs spread wide enough for you to see her wet pussy as she pulls her shirt up more.

she grabs the strap from you and stands up to put it on before sitting right back down in the same spot as before. “stand right there and strip for me baby, i want you to be a good girl and ride my dick until you cum, can you do that for me?” she says bluntly with a flirtatious ring in her words. you swallow the drool pooling in your mouth as you nod, fingers working fast to get all your clothes off.

as you stumble to get out of your thong, you look up to see billie staring back at you, rubbing the strap up and down spreading it with her spit and groaning. the image fills you with need, and suddenly there you are, straddling billie again, wimpering as she rubs the tip of her dick on your clit and biting gently on your collar bone. her hands are moving fast on your body, as if shes trying to touch every part of you all at the same time.

her hands finally land on your hips, grabbing them tightly and lifting them up. as you sit up you fall forward on to her, one of her hands moving in between your legs and running her fingers between your wet lips, taking a deep breath in and moaning. “oh baby, who got you so wet, huh?” you pull your lips away from her neck long enough to answer, the words coming out as a moan, “you billie, you got me this wet, fuckkk please keep touching me”

she smiles and grabs your face, forcing you to make eye contact as she lines the tip up and sits you down on her dick, biting her lip as she listens to you let out a deep moan at the feeling of her filling you so nicely. once you are sitting all the way down billies sits back on the couch and relaxes, “alright mama, come on and fuck yourself on my cock for me. make yourself feel good while i watch”

you obey immediately, her words making you hornier than ever as you begin to ride her, pulling yourself up and throwing yourself back down over and over again, moaning each time. the strap slides in and out of you so nicely as your wet pussy begins to make the prettiest sounds. billie groans loudly at the sight in front of her, watching as your boobs bounce and you throw your head back, so caught up in the way her dick is making you feel.

“fuck y/n just like that, keep going for me baby, just like that, such a good girl fucking yourself on me like this” billies words dance on your skin as you feel your walls clenching around the strap, picking up the speed and letting the gasps and cries fall out of your mouth with no restraint. as you pick up speed you begin to hear billie let out little moans each time you land, suddenly realizing the base is hitting her clit perfectly, making her feel just as good as you do.

“oh baby fuck dont stop, please dont stop y/n” billie wines as she throws her head back. you’ve never seen her like this before, it must be the way shes sitting on the couch but you fucking love it. the sound of you and billies moans harmonizing fill the room and its clear you are both approaching your high together. you continue fucking yourself hard onto her cock, wanting so badly to make her cum with you. one of your hands grabs her tie as the other makes its way to your clit, tightly circling it as you yelp and moan louder “oh billie fuck,”

you choke out as you continue rubbing yourself. her eyes fall down to your pussy, drooling at the view in front of her. billie loves to tell you how hot it is to watch your pussy take her strap so nicely, and this time is no different. “fuck mama, youre making me feel soo good fucking yourself on me, please dont stop baby- fuck this feels good”

billie struggled to get her words out, her need to moan overpowering her making it nearly impossible to speak. thats all it took for you to unravel, loudly telling her youre cumming as you coat the strap in your juices. you switched your motion, beginning to shift back and forth instead of up and down and suddenly billie throws her head back, shaking uncontrollably and begging you not to stop as she reaches her own high. your mouth fell open at the sight in front of you as you continued to shift your hips back and forth, letting billie ride out her high fully and talking her through it as you did.

“mmmm baby thats it, let it out for me just like that. that feels good hmm baby?” you say, as your girlfriend continues to whimper and gasp below you, still feeling the powerful orgasm wash over her. she finally grabs your hips stopping you from moving any more, and you fall forward onto her, both of you working hard to catch your breath from the intensity of both of your orgasms. after a few minutes of quiet breathing and some left over moans and hums coming out of both of you, billie begins rubbing your ass delicately as she pulls you in for a kiss.

you both quietly yelp as your weight shifts on her, forgetting the strap was still in you and therefore, grazing against her clit again. you smile down at billie and stand up slowly, hating how empty you feel. as billie stands to take the strap off, you see just how wet her pussy is, coated in her cum, the cum that you just fucked out of her. you feel the drool pooling into your mouth again as you begin to feel intense hunger for her. once the harness is fully off of her you push her back down on the couch, catching her off gaurd.

her eyes meet yours with a confused look in them and you decide to answer her puzzled look with more dominance than she or you are used to you having, “im not done making you feel good baby, why dont you go ahead and spread your legs for me and let me clean you up, i need to taste you” billie audibly swallowed at your words, shocked at the control you had but quick to obey your command. you got down on your knees in front of her, sliding your hands under her thighs and pulling her closer to you, making her gasp and squeel.

she began to let out a giggle but it was choked into a moan as she felt your tongue hit her pussy. her sweet taste filled your mouth, making you groan into her loudly, picking up your pace and letting your tongue move ravenously through her folds, collecting all her cum and swallowing, drinking her down. billies moans sounded different than usual, they sounded more submissive, more winey than you’ve ever heard from her. she was releasing all her control and allowing the pleasure to take over her mind.

as you moved your tongue up to find her clit, she grabbed your hair tightly with her hands, shifting her hips up, silently begging for more. you grabbed her hips tighter, swearing that it was going to cause bruises but not letting up, you needed to make her cum again, overwhelmed with a level of desire you dont think youve ever felt before. your flat tongue continued lapping over her clit as your fingers slipped from her hips and found their way to her entrance, stopping before they could go any further, wanting to make sure it was okay before putting them in. as you went to speak, billie quickly interupted you, despiration filling her voice, something new coming from her, “oh please baby, put your fingers in me, fuck me with your fingers mama, youre making me feel so fucking good”

the submissive nature in her voice flooded your ears, making you moan into her. seeing her like this was hotter than you could have ever imagined. you pulled your fingers away, slowly licking her entrance one more time, collecting her sweet juices and groaning before returning your tongue to her clit and thrusting your fingers into her with a gentle power, quickly beginning to create a rhythm to your thrusts, making her back arch of the couch and a loud gasp fall from her lips.

every thrust made a little high pitched grunt rip from her throat, not able to hold anything in anymore as she was drunk and hypnotized from the pleasure she was experiencing. “uh *thrust*, uh *thrust* , uh *thrust*, uh *thrust*, — oh fuck, oh fuck y/n, i—, oh god” you were eagerly fucking her, your fingers curling into her, quickly finding her spongey wall as your tongue pushed down harder on her clit and that was all it took. billie let out one last scream before her mouth hung open, silently moaning, shaking and pulling hard at your hair, “oh baby oh fuck y/n, im cumming baby please god don’t stop, oh godddd” you didnt stop, continuing to fuck her through her orgasm as you suddenly felt a warm liquid hit your chin “fuckkkkkkk y/n, fuck please baby oh god”

billie didnt know what she was asking for, she just knew shed never felt anything like this before, gasping loudly as you pulled your mouth away, continuing to thrust your fingers in and out of her and pushing down on her lower stomach, watching her squirt more and more as she yelled and moved below you, finally grabbing your hands and forcing you to stop as she tried her best to catch her breath.

you sat there giggling innocently as she came back to earth, hair clingling to her sweaty flushed face, eyes still closed. you leaned down peppering kisses all over her face, rubbing the hair off her forehead as she finally caught her breath and opened her eyes starring at you doe eyed as a smirk painted her face. you kissed her forehead one more time before finally breaking the silence, “you did so good for me baby, let me make you feel so good huh?” you giggled as she turned away, bashfully nodding before sitting up and returning the forehead kiss you gave her. “i think i should let you do that more often, fuck” she giggled out before grabbing the glass of water that sat on the coffee table next to you both, “you really just fucked the shit out of me” she laughed loudly, a joking nature in her voice even though she knew just how true her statement was.

[jeon-ify]

on live - nakamoto yuta

pairing: yuta (nct) x female reader *

a/n: hello!! this is my first nct smut!! ofc its gonna be of my bias????? yuta is rlly hot in this one and hes super super dom and mean but recently ive been into cnc (its a trauma response or a coping mechanism mannn idk) and i had a dream about yuta last night so i think this would be THE ONE! this might be my most toe curling and nastiest and most graphic smut i’ve ever written and tbh i love it 😁

in which yuta fucks you and makes you touch yourself on camera for him to watch while he’s on tour.

warnings: swearing, dom!yuta x sub!reader, unprotected sex (yeee a big no no) mentions of tossing out birth control (ib @justaaveragereader ), yuta calls reader a bitch, slut, whore, cnc!play, sextape in the making, pussy slapping, titty slapping and sucking, face slapping, spit play, breeding kink, female anatomy, she/her reader, some?jaehyun? sex on live, if i missed anything lmkk

genre: smut, dark romance

mdni. 18+

enjoy nasties

“wait, why are you buying lingerie? isn’t yuta leaving in like 3 days?” your friend asks you as you both decided to shop around for a set of lingerie to prepare for a film that your boyfriend was oh so excited to make.

as you both walked through the last couple of aisles, you find a gorgeous black and pink set. you already knew yuta would go insane over it, already imagining the different positions and scenarios he’d play out for you.

lately, yuta’s been into cnc play. something that he was so unsure and insecure about; but when the topic came up, he brought it up to you. you were always open to trying new things with yuta, as long as you both knew where you stood, and that there was a line.

“girl come look, oh my god…” you hold up the piece for you friend to see, watching the way her eyes shift to the corset area.

“good luck walking normally for the next week. he’s gonna fuck your brains out!” she says, almost too loud for the crowd.

you pick out your size and check out to head home. you throw your bags in the car, finally getting a chance to text your man.

my yuta 🤍: hey baby, i’m on my way home. i’m gonna stop at target really fast

my yuta 🤍: are you home?

y/n: hi baby!!!!!!!!! i’m not home yet

y/n: i’m almost there tho

my yuta 🤍: okay gimme like 20 minutes bb

y/n: okay :3

you pull into your driveway, grabbing your things and rushing inside to hurry into your new set. you quickly showered and did your hair, spraying it to hold the wet hair look. you rubbed on body oil followed by a body shimmer, yuta’s favorite thing you do. you sprayed perfume on your ankles, wrists and neck, wherever yuta would be closest to you.

you also put on a touch of makeup, as yuta loved when you wore makeup, just so he can watch it run down your face when he fucks your throat.

after 20 minutes of getting yourself ready for your man, you unlock the front door, running up the stairs for yuta to see you waiting on your knees in the middle of the bed. you calmed your breathing, nervousness clouding your entire body when you hear the front door slowly open.

the front door was never unlocked unless something was going on— and this had yuta’s blood rushing, knowing you were home with the door open already for him.

“baby? i’m home, why’s the door unlocked?” he yells for you, getting no answer— expecting him to walk upstairs looking for you. you hear him putting some bags down, listening to the jingling of keys and shoes being thrown around.

“my love, i’m not playing this game.” he sighs. you hear him finally walking up the stairs, blood rushing to your ovaries and making your head spin in excitement. he opens your bedroom door, taking in the view before him. you’re on your knees in the middle of the silk covered king bed, with a pink maid lingerie set on, your wet hair almost coming down to your breasts, shifting with every deep breath you take.

you hurriedly finish setting up the camera on the chair across from bed, making sure your hair and outfit looks perfect— if you’re posting this on twitter, it has to be astounding.

you rush to get back into position, hearing yuta’s footsteps approaching. he nears the room, leaving the door completely open. his gaze darkens, curiosity at the scene before him is making his cock hard. he can only wonder what’ll happen next.

“fuckin’ hell. this what you were doing? look at you, pretty girl. is this new?” he walks up to you, reaching for the straps on your fabric, admiring the way your clean skin is perfectly suited by the set you’ve had on.

“all for you, baby. wanted it to be a surprise when you got home. i remember you mentioned you wanted to try cnc, so i got excited.” you breathily laugh. yuta’s fingers run up your neck and down to the valley of your breasts.

“yeah? good memory, baby. what do you say i rip this off you and pound your pretty cunt, hm?” his long hair bounces off his shoulders when he stands up and undresses himself. slides off his white top, his black trousers following suite.

he doesn’t notice the camera at first, but when he catches you looking at the phone on the chair every 20 seconds to make sure it hasn’t fell, his cock (impossibly) gets harder and harder.

“yuta, aren’t you tired from work?” you pretend to push him away from you, but yuta doesn’t budge. he leans over your smaller figure, planting a kiss on your forehead.

the smell of his car is what’s following his body, the new car scent making your head spin. the cologne he wears makes compliment to his aesthetic, edgy and mysterious— with notes of tobacco and ocean breeze. you catch a tiny bit of vanilla as he moves away from you. the mix of fragrances makes your mind fuzzy.

“never too tired to fuck you,” he continues demandingly, cupping your jaw to get a better view of your nervous look. his shoulders are tense and you notice the sweat beginning to form around his chest. “no, yuta. i don’t want to,”

“don’t fight me baby. you’re only making this worse for yourself,” his large hands press your back down onto the mattress, spreading your thighs to kiss around your heat. his teeth magically unbutton the body suit you struggled to clasp together. amazed, you moan out when you feel his teeth graze your cunt through your thin lace panties. he pushes your thighs apart as he kisses and licks you through the thin material.

letting go of your legs, he rips your panties off and licks a long stripe from the top to the bottom of your clit. he sucks at the sensitive area, whimpering and gasping at the taste of you.

your pussy clenches and convulses around his tongue while your thighs attempt to shut around his long haired head. his brown hair is damp with sweat, using his free hand to brush his hair back. he bites at your clit, making your legs twitch. “yuta, stop— please,” you whimper with watery eyes while your orgasm threatens to approach.

he only groans in response, sucking harder and flicking his tongue faster up and down your entire cunt. your orgasm approaches; you release all over the area where a beard would sit.

his stronger hands make impact with your pussy, your body jolting in response. “stop fucking moving. i’m gonna use you how i see fit, am i clear, y/n?”

“but i-“

“but i don’t care. don’t make me tie you down.”

his dark eyes lock into yours, making your heart jump in fear and excitement for what’s about to come. your legs force themselves open while yuta strokes himself slightly and lines his cock up with your soaked, sore cunt. in one thrust, he’s all the way in, giving yourself no time to adjust. he places his hand on your mouth to block out all sound from you. “yeah, keep that fuckin’ mouth shut. only thing you’re good for is this pussy.”

he lands another sharp slap on your cunt, making you cry out. your back arches upward and you could’ve swore you just saw your brain from how hard your eyes rolled back. ��gonna toss out your birth control and fill you up every. fucking. day.” with every word, he pulls out completely, then thrusts harder back into you. your body shivers and your toes curl at the contact. with your back arched up, he takes the opportunity to remove his hand from your mouth and undo your entire set, stripping you completely naked.

after he’s satisfied with the scene before him, he slaps your right tit, then your left, then the right. the muscle turns red and you wince out in pain. he leans down to suck and lick at the area, earning a gasp from you.

“don’t cum in me, please!” you beg. you absolutely need him to breed you— it’s a staple in your’s and yuta’s sex life. it wasn’t sex if he didn’t full you up by the end of it.

“shut the fuck up. the last time i checked, sluts like you don’t care about getting pregnant, hm? they just sleep around and wait for someone to empty their cum into their loose pussies, yeah? that what you are?”

“n-no.” your eyebrows furrow in anger at the words he throws at you. the expression on your face doesn’t match the expression your pussy displays. you’re throbbing and swallowing him in, unknowingly cumming around him for the -nteenth time.

“yeah, you are. say it with me.” his tone softens as he talks you through the most vulgar words, waiting for you to say the words.

“i’ll call someone if you don’t let me go.”

“who are you gonna call, darling? the cops? i’ll make them watch.” he slaps the left side of your face, leaving a red handprint on your glossy skin.

“open your legs. don’t make me repeat myself,” you force your shaky legs open while yuta continues his assault on your sore pussy. the lewd moans he lets out makes your head fuzzy. “so fucking tight. even after i fucked you for hours,”

his thrusts slow, then they continue at a rough and fast pace. his fingers are hooked into the right side of your mouth like a dental clamp. your teeth are covered in your own arousal.

he repositions the both of you to where you’re both facing the camera. he cups your jaw, making you watch him fuck you through the camera. you connected your phone to the tv, so you’re both seen on the screen.

“say hi to your fans, bitch. we’re on live.”

somehow, yuta managed to switch to a livestream, the comments being flooded with a sweaty face emoji and thirsty comments. he pounds into you while you’re both whining and whimpering, holding your hair back to push you deeper onto his length.

“n-no, yuta, let me go!”

you’re cut off by a sharp slap on your ass. “one more chance. say hi.”

“h- fuck, i can’t!”

you watch the views go up dramatically, while yuta smiles manically.

12.7M VIEWS

3.7M COMMENTS

1.27M GIFTS

cznniehoe: man im tryna get my coochie stretched too

johnnysuh: no sharing?

jaehyun: hot

marklee: dude this is so hot

taeil: bro what let me get some

taeyong: BOW BOW BOW BOW BOW THATS THAT BOOTY MEAT

the views only increase, making your heart clench at nervousness.

“say hi to jaehyun for me.”

“i can’t—“ another slap to your right ass cheek, already forming a bruise. he pulls you off of him, watching yours and his cum drip down his cock and your thighs. “h-hi jaehyun,”

jaehyun: hello pretty girl

“there you go. wasn’t so hard was it?” yuta leans over to grab the camera and angle it at your face. it’s at selfie level as you stare at your own arousal on your face and the mascara on your cheeks. your lips are puffy and red with strands of hair on your face.

you look like yuta’s bitch.

[sweetyyhippyy]

39 Weeks. Dad!Eddie Series. *FLUFF*

Summary: Eddie's wife is now 39 weeks pregnant and things aren't getting any easier.

Word Count: 766

TW: Being big pregnant, a lot of crying.

A.N.: Surprise!!!!! I was going through my WIPs and found this! I didn't think i ever finished it but I did!

~~~~~~~~~~

Bulging belly.

Swollen ankles.

Back pain.

Peeing every 3 minutes.

Being 39 weeks (and 5 days, but who’s counting) was starting to take its toll on her. She was tired, sore, swollen, hot all the time, and overly emotional - which Eddie always seemed to be the one to pick up the pieces.

Her day at home hasn’t been as relaxing as she hoped.

For lunch, she wanted a simple bowl of cereal, but the milk had spoiled. She went to make grilled cheese, an easy second option, only to find a single piece of bread, and naturally it was the end piece. Clearly a grocery store visit needed to happen.

As the day went on, the pain in her lower back was more than she could bear on top of the tightness she was feeling in her stomach.

The final straw was when she went to switch the laundry. Somehow a little red sock ended up in a load with Eddie’s Hellfire Club shirt and a few other white shirts that ended up turning the shirts pink.

Tears started to flow instantly with frustration in herself, something that had started to become normal the last few weeks.

As much as she loved being pregnant in the very beginning, she was physically and emotionally over being this heavily pregnant and miserable.

Eddie swings the front door open, excited to see his wife after a long day of work.

“Babe?” He calls out, throwing his keys on the counter in the dark kitchen, the house eerily quiet.

“Babe, I’m home. Where are you?” Eddie walks throughout the house, finding their bedroom door closed and small sniffles from behind it.

Eddie furrows his eyebrows before slowly opening the door and peeking his head in to see his wife curled up in a ball under the sheets, her body shaking from her sobs.

“What’s going on, sweetheart? What happened?” Eddie rushes over to her, laying a hand on her back.

She erupts in a violent sob, looking back at Eddie with swollen eyes. “I just want the baby here already. I can’t take being pregnant anymore!” She yells. “I don’t have any control over my body, everything hurts, all I want is some cereal and the milk is spoiled. We don’t have enough bread!.”

“It’s just your hormones.” Eddie soothes her, not the first time this pregnancy he’s let her cry it out.

“I don’t know how you put up with me! I’m insufferable! I turned your shirts pink because I can’t do laundry the right way.” She picks up the shirt from next to her and shoves it in his face. “See?! It’s pink! I’m sorry!” She was beyond hysterical at this point.

Eddie grabs the newly pink shirt from her and opens it up. “It’s kinda badass, babe. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

“You’re just saying that because you’re my husband and you’re trying to be nice to me. I did it to your favorite Metallica shirt too.” She hiccups a sob, handing him more of the evidence.

Sure it was his favorite shirt, but he still couldn’t be angry at her even a little bit. “Hey, can you look at me for 10 seconds?”

She slowly looks up at him, shame in her face.

Eddie wipes her tears from her cheeks, planting a soft kiss onto her forehead. “For the past 39 weeks you’ve been growing a baby, our baby. You’ve been growing her little nose, her arms, her heart. That’s a lot of work. You’re exhausted, you’re hurting, nobody is mad that you accidentally made my shirts pink.”

“You’re not mad?” She sniffles broken, wiping her wet eyes again.

“No, sweetheart.” He wraps his arms around her and cradles her head against his chest. “Hell I’ve done a load of laundry for you and shrunk your favorite sweater and you weren’t mad at me, remember?”

She can’t help but giggle, remembering how scared he was to tell her he shrunk her sweater, he bought her favorite food home, brought her flowers, and put her favorite movie on before he showed her the sweater, the cutest puppy dog face on.

“Since you had a bad day, I’ll go make you a bath, not too hot, and I’ll go grab some groceries, get some stuff to make dinner, and I’ll come back and spoil you.”

“That sounds nice.” She smiles, kissing his cheek. “Since you’re going to the store, will you pick up some green grapes for me? And by me, I mean the baby of course.”

Eddie chuckles, getting off the bed. “Anything for the baby."

[afternoondreaming]

No Business Like Show Business (3/?)

Hey there, everyone! Sorry it’s been a bit of a hot minute without any writings- celebrated my birthday this month, so I’ve been a tad busy! Now I’m rewarding myself with writing my dear Puzzle man. Also, can’t believe they let my man say fuck. We’re truly in the future, folks

“…Starlet? Oh, Starlet…? Do you make a habit of ‘spacing out’?” Mr. Puzzles leaned across the table to get closer to your eye level, waving his hand in front of your face. You were, as of current, left aghast at the man’s suggestion. Work alone? It was ridiculous. A studio couldn’t be ran by itself! Yet, the more you thought of it, the more the puzzle pieces fit together. A building bereft of staff, left obviously unused. The interviews where he simply posed the questions to himself. All the unanswered résumés constantly being shipped in… Besides those few actors he had on board briefly, which he seemed to hold a grudge against given his attitude in the shows, this was a one man show.

“How… Do you pump out all this content?” You spoke slowly, turning your focus to him again. He looked surprised that you finally spoke up, but quickly switched his screen to a more offended face.

“Excuse you! I don’t make content and it’s not ‘pumped out’!” If a TV could pout, it was about as close as one could get to it. “I make art! I make cinema!” Mr. Puzzles roughly slammed his hands against the desk, kicking up dust as he sprung to his feet. As you began to cough, he continued his confident rambling. “Puzzlevision’s film making techniques are proprietary, so! Until you sign on the dotted line and accept such a golden opportunity, you’ll never know~!” The man looked smug as he leaned closer across the table, goading you on.

As you tried to wave away the rest of the dust, you began to think. You were certainly curious and having such a big name on your résumé would certainly catapult you to whatever heights you wanted to reach. There was just one problem…“Listen, Mr. Puzzles, while I really want to accept this offer… The commute will be way too long. I need to find a place first before I can accept-“

“Oh! That. Easy fix!” He habitually interrupted you, rising from his chair to round the table towards you. “It’s rather common for companies to cover moving costs and provide local housing listings~ I believe there’s a few in the apartment complex across the street! We’ll simply get you settled in there.” Like a fact he said it plainly, hand coming down to pay your shoulder assuredly. “I take it you accept, then?”

“Well, yes, but-“

“Perfect!” The TV in front of you turned manic, eerie face with realistic eyes and smile jittering. “Time to share my genius Puzzlevision process, partner.” Suddenly you felt a pull. A gravitational force towards the man’s screen, all the while that disturbing face towered over you.

“Woah- hey- what’s going on-!” Before you could finish your sentence, you were pulled closer to the screen. Vision quickly going to black as you lost all awareness of the dusty interview room around you.

“Ugh… What just happened…?” You groaned, pushing yourself up off of the floor you were lying on. As you got your bearings, you wished you didn’t. All around you, you were surrounded by void. Giant TVs all around you filled with a low, droning static. Shaking, you picked yourself up off the floor. “Hello…? Is anyone there?” You were in an interview before, right?

“Welcome! To the Puzzlevision proprietary secret!” A booming, familiar voice called out. Up from the void below rose a giant, familiar figure. Right. Mr. Puzzles. How could you possibly forget. “You’re absolutely star struck, Starlet, I know~!” With a knuckle he tapped against the side of his head causing the whole world to shake, nearly toppling you over again. “My head always makes for the best sets and crew!”

“I’m… In your head.” It was hard to believe. I mean, who possibly could? First the man has a TV for a head in the first place. Now this? “Right now. Your head. In it.”

“Right you are, my dear little Starlet! Who needs a studio when you have the realm of imagination!” Mr. Puzzles dramatically struck a pose, a happy smile on his face as he waited for your reaction.

“And you expect me to work here.” It felt like your head was going to explode.

“Well, when we’re filming, yes!” Your question seemed to take him aback, pose dropping as he looked confused. “If you’d like to write in here, you certainly can… But I will gladly dust off the old studio for you and I to brainstorm in~” There it was again. The fact that only you two- and, let’s face it, it’s essentially just you- will be writing, producing, and workshopping movies. Entirely. By. Yourself.

“I…I think I’m gonna lie down for a minute...”

“Starlet? Starlet-!” You couldn’t hear the rest of the flamboyant man’s cries, as you quickly found yourself dropping like a puppet with its strings cut all the way to the ground.

[luxaofhesperides]

those who serve.

CHAPTER SEVEN: a wound.

previous chapter. full fic on ao3.

14k.... finish what ure doing first before u read this. this is ur only warning.

cw for this chapter: violence, injuries, nongraphic medical procedures

. . .

Danny gets one week to adjust to the reveal of the Wayne family’s night activities, on top of getting learning more and more each day to help Alfred. Then everything upends itself in the face of a gala taking place in the manor in ten days.

Most of the preparations have been taken care of by Alfred months in advance; renting out extra tables, chairs, and tablecloths, hiring catering, getting together press passes for attending reporters, and so much more. He kindly goes over each thing for Danny, reviewing the specifics of each group so Danny can have an idea of what to look for in the future. The amount of information he gets makes his head spin, and the prices of everything make him break out into a cold sweat.

Technically, Danny is joining the ranks of the rich with his new paycheck, but no amount of time will make him comfortable with such large numbers being attached to his bank account.

Ten days to the gala, Alfred shows Danny how to get blood out of white and light colored clothes. Tim, apparently, pulled some stitches after getting stabbed the night before, and bled through his shirt. 

Hydrogen peroxide is a life saver. It definitely would have been useful to have while he still lived in Amity Park.

He also discovers a love of ironing; watching the wrinkles in the fabric disappear is deeply satisfying in ways he can’t put to words. 

“I’d certainly be happy to pass on all ironing duties to you,” Alfred says, when Danny mentions this. “Just be careful not to burn yourself.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not that clumsy!” he replies, moving the iron across another shirt. Looking at Alfred, Danny miscalculates how far he’s moved the iron, and the edge of the hot metal touches his palm, pressing the shirt flat against the ironing board. He yelps, yanking his hand back, then gives Alfred a sheepish smile. “That doesn’t count.”

Alfred shakes his head with a fond smile, holding out a hand. “Let me see.”

Danny holds up his hand for Alfred to inspect. There’s no burn, barely any redness in the skin, but Danny draws some ice across the area anyways to keep Alfred from worrying.

“You could always iron using oven mitts,” Alfred suggests. “I believe we have some spare Batman themed ones in the kitchen.” His tone is so dry and even that it takes Danny a second to realize he’s joking.

“I would have accepted that if it wasn’t Batman themed,” he jokes back. “Anyone but him.”

“He’ll be heartbroken to hear that, I’m sure.”

Danny snickers and goes back to ironing, carefully keeping it away from his hand this time.

He’s not laughing when Alfred teaches him about formal suits that night, showing him each piece to the suit and how to properly wash, fold, and iron them, as well as how to put them on. And then he drops the bombshell of, “You’ll be getting your suit fitted tomorrow as well,” in the most casual tone possible for him.

Danny chokes on nothing and has to spend a minute clearing his throat before he can say, “Sorry, what did you just say?”

“You need to get fitted for a suit. Tomorrow. I have already made the appointment with a tailor I’ve worked with for many decades.”

“Cool, that’s what I thought you said. Is this required?”

“Yes, as you’ll be attending the gala as well. We are the two permanent members of the Wayne Manor staff. There will be eyes on us as we keep the event running smoothly, so it’s important to be well dressed.”

It makes sense when Alfred puts it like that, but Danny still has to smother his instinctive refusal. He’s only rented suits before for school dances, and those were never super comfortable. He avoids events that require suits, like formal conferences his parents are invited to, with an extended invite for family. Suits and wealth will always make him think first of Vlad. 

Maybe in time, he’ll associate those things more with the Waynes, but for now, Vlad is the face that comes to mind and Danny has to shove away the urge to run and hide.

“Not to worry,” Alfred adds, as Danny struggles to smooth out his expression from the pained grimace it twisted into, “You will not be going to this appointment alone.”

That’s not the part that Danny’s concerned about, but he still appreciates it. He’s definitely not ready to be alone in the city again, considering how his first time out with the Waynes ended with a hostage situation and a mall full of violent gangsters.

There’s not much anyone here can do for his own hangups, especially when they originate in another dimension. 

So Danny pastes on an unconvincing smile and gets back to work.

Nine days before the gala, Danny finds himself in a car with Bruce and Cass. Alfred had offered to drive them, but Bruce grabbed the keys before anyone else could and cheerily waved Alfred away. He was then told to not get another speeding ticket and to try to be a good role model for Danny.

Danny, whose only good role model is Jazz, looked away nonchalantly and acted like he didn’t hear that. 

It’s not like he needs good role models anyways. He’s doing just fine on his own!

Alfred doesn’t count because Alfred isn’t a role model as much as he’s an ideal Danny is striving for. Alfred is who Danny wants to be when he grows up. Now that he has a chance to grow up (relatively) safe, that is.

Cass had snickered at the three of them, then bodily shoved Danny into the backseat before climbing in after him.

Now, they’re going down the streets of Gotham, driving over a bridge, through neighborhoods, through run down districts that slowly get bigger and cleaner and visibly more suited for people with money. Bruce doesn’t drive recklessly, thankfully, despite Alfred’s warnings. 

Even so, Danny still clings to the car door, ready to throw himself out at a moment’s notice. He’s learned to bail quickly with his parents’ dangerous driving. 

“You alright back there?” Bruce asks, meeting Danny’s eyes briefly in the rearview mirror.

“Yep!” Danny chokes out. “Doing great!”

He squeezes his eyes shut and tries to regulate his breathing, counting slowly in an attempt to settle the wild beating of his heart. 

He wasn’t this bad in cars before. Even with his parents. He’s not sure what changed, but being in Gotham, after everything that’s happened, makes the small space of a car feel suffocating. The rocking of the car as it goes down bumpy roads would have once lulled him to sleep, but now makes his stomach roll and his chest go tight with panic. None of this is made better by having two observant and dangerous people watching his every reaction, no matter how small.

The radio is playing softly, simple background noise as Bruce drives them through Gotham. Danny tries to pay attention to it, to listen to the songs that come on, but his focus is completely shot. The noise keeps fading in and out of his ears.

“It’s okay,” Cass says softly. Her fingers skate over the back of his hand, making him jump. He blinks his eyes open to look at her. 

At some point, she’s taken off her seatbelt. Which isn’t safe! She needs to put it back on! 

Danny’s gone through the lessons and powerpoints back in Amity Park, when teachers tried to make sure he and his sister would be better drivers than their parents. Seatbelts help prevent severe injuries in car crashes, and there’s a reason they’re required by law.

Weakly, he shoves her back against the seat. Then he leans forward to reach past her, taking hold of the discarded seatbelt, and fastening it around her again.

“Keep that on,” he says around a gasp, his breath catching in his chest. His voice sounds weak and thready even to his ears, which means its bound to be even more concerning to her and Bruce.

“Do you need me to pull over?” Bruce asks, glancing back at him. “If you’re feeling sick, I can stop until you feel better.”

“No, just keep driving. The sooner we get to wherever it is we’re going, the better.”

Cass is frowning at him when he looks at her, ensuring the seatbelt is still on. “Why?” she asks, pointing at him.

That’s such a vague question! What is he supposed to answer! 

‘Why is he like this?’ ‘Why is he worked up about a seatbelt?’ ‘Why is he a mess?’

The answer to all those questions are the same: he doesn’t know!

The most he can do is offer Cass a weak shrug, so that’s what he does. Cass squints her eyes at him, then grabs his hands and lifts them up to start a clumsy game of patty cake. It quickly becomes apparent that she doesn’t actually know how to play patty cake and is instead clapping their hands together randomly with a look of confusion on her face, so Danny takes over, humming the song under his breath.

It helps distract him from the unreasonable panic of being trapped inside a car. That was probably her intention, but Cass is so focused on keeping up with their steadily quickening game of patty cake that it doesn’t feel like he’s being coddled. It just feels like this is normal, like they’re two kids passing time on a car ride.

Like they could be anyone else. People who are safe. People who haven’t been so hurt.

It’s almost a surprise when the car comes to a stop, Bruce smoothly pulling into a parking space with a reserved sign in front of it.

Danny opens his mouth to ask if it’s really alright that they park there, but can’t say a word before Cass smacks his hands down. When he looks at her, she rubs her fingers together in the universal sign for money and gives him an impish grin.

That’s right, Bruce is rich enough that he can get away with anything. Who cares who that reserved sign is for? Bruce can just buy them a new parking lot. 

That won’t stop the whole thing from leaving a bad taste in his mouth, but at least it’ll be easier to ignore.

Cass hops out the car and skips around the open the door on his side, holding out a hand to help him out. 

He takes it and lets her yank him out of the car. She doesn’t bother waiting for Bruce before dragging Danny into a fancy looking store, the outside all black brick and large, reflective windows. He doesn’t get a chance to see the name of the store, pulled in too fast by Cass’s enthusiasm.

She all but throws open the door, the bell above them ringing merrily, and leads him inside. The dark wood floor and fancy lights immediately make Danny feel out of place. The racks of fancy clothing on display and the mannequins all dressed up in suits of various dark colors only make him feel more like he doesn’t belong in there. 

“Hello, hello, welcome!” calls out an employee. She wears a dark green apron with a notepad tucked into the front pocket and a pin cushion on her wrist. “Are you just browsing today, or do you have an appointment?”

“We have an appointment for Danny,” Bruce answers, somehow appearing behind them. Danny squeezes Cass’s hand to hold back his flinch; he’d really love if the man would make some noise when he moves. 

Did the bell over the door even ring when Bruce came in?

“Great! Follow me, I’ll get you into a fitting room and then let Mr. Brownstein know you’re here.” She leads them through a door near the back of the store, leading to a short hallway with three numbered doors in them. 

They’re given room one, which looks more like a lounge than a fitting room. Beyond the couch and armchairs is a round platform with floor length mirrors surrounding it on three sides. Past that is an area that looks like a large dressing room with only a curtain to separate it from the rest of the room. 

Bruce wastes no time in sitting down on the couch with a low grunt. Apparently not even vigilantism and constant training can save him from old man joints. 

Cass lets go of Danny’s hand to flit around the room, then grabs a few magazines and sits next to Bruce, flipping through them quickly. 

Left on his own, Danny stands near the door awkwardly before he forces himself to join them, sitting on one of the armchairs to keep some space between them. 

“How are you feeling?” Bruce asks as soon as Danny’s gotten comfortable.

Danny shrugs. “Fine. Just… not used to this.” He gestures vaguely to everything around them and Bruce nods as if this makes sense.

“I understand that this can be a lot,” he says, “But we’ll do all we can to make things go smoothly for you.”

“Will be normal… time?” Cass adds, looking to Bruce for help.

She signs something and Bruce helpfully supplies, “Eventually.”

“Yes! Even-tu-ally.”

“I don’t know if anyone ever gets used to this. The being rich thing and your hobbies.”

“Plenty of us in the know have had to adjust to this life, you’re not alone in that.”

Danny squints at Bruce. “I highly doubt any of you were normal before doing what you do.”

Bruce opens his mouth to refute that, thinks about it, then closes his mouth and slowly nods. “That is a fair point. What’s normal for Gotham is hardly normal for anyone else.”

“No, no, this is not a Gotham specific thing. This is a Wayne and associates specific thing.”

“You are in that,” Cass says. “Not normal.”

“I think I’ve made it very clear that I am not normal. But I wasn’t insanely rich! That changes things!”

“No,” Cass says firmly, agreeing. “Not normal. Better that way.”

A knock on the door sounds through the room before they can get into it anymore. The door opens just a second later and an old man with heavyset wrinkles, white hair, and a fancy looking black cane with the handle done in gold, enters with a smile.

“Ah, Mr. Wayne, how lovely to see you again.” He’s got the same accent as Alfred, the same even, unflappable tone.

“Davey!” Bruce stands with a grin, his voice turning loud and energetic. It’s such a change from how Danny’s used to seeing him that he can’t do anything but stare at the man in shock. Bruce shakes Davey’s hand in big up and down sweeps, full of cheer.

Gone is the calm, steady, intimidating presence Danny is used to. In its place is some guy with a good attitude and not much else in his head.

“So good to see you again,” Bruce continues, dropping the handshake in favor of patting him on the back. 

“I do hope you haven’t wrecked any of your suits recently. I was hoping to go more than a few months between tailoring new suits for you.”

“Then I’m sure you’ll be happy to know all my suits are in perfect condition! We’re here for someone new, anyways.” 

Taking his cue, Danny stands up and gives a small wave. “Hi,” he says rather weakly.

Davey lights up, striding across the room to take Danny’s hand in his, giving it a vigorous shake. “You must be the boy Alfred’s taken in! Such a pleasure to meet you lad, I’ve heard only good things about you.”

“You know Alfred?”

“Know him? I grew up in the same neighborhood as him in England, and he’s the one who helped me set up shop here in Gotham back in the 80s. I’ve gotten ahead of myself.” He shakes his head and steps back, giving Danny some breathing room. “David Brownstein, at your service.”

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Brownstein. I’m Danny.”

“Call me David. Any friend of Alfred is a friend of mine. Now, I hear you’re in need of a suit?”

“Yeah, there’s a gala soon and I don’t have anything formal or like… professional to wear to it.”

“Make him pretty!” Cass demands, clapping her hands together in delight. 

David nods to her. “I intend to, Miss Cassandra. Let’s begin, shall we?”

In no time at all, Danny is standing on the round platform in a black suit, trying his best to be as still as possible. He’s stopped breathing completely so he doesn’t accidentally disturb David where he’s pinning his left pant leg to better fit him. The fabric is soft and smooth, higher quality than literally anything else he’s ever worn in his life. 

When he glances into one of the many mirrors around him, he has to admit that he looks good.

To be fair, though, everyone looks good in a suit. 

It’s just so far beyond his normal that it feels like he’s looking at someone else in the mirror. To think that just a few weeks ago, he as a homeless teenager living on the streets with only the clothes on his back. Now he’s getting fitted for a designer suit that probably costs more than his entire college fund.

Bruce left the room at some point and Danny has no idea where he could be. Cass is still around, though she disappears every so often, then pops back in wearing a beautiful dress that she presents to him for his opinion.

Danny gives her a thumbs up every time while also trying to keep his arms still. 

Near the end of his appointment, she walks into the room with a bunch of silk ties in different colors and patterns draped over one arm. She holds up each one in front of her face, looks between the ties and Danny, then either tosses them onto the couch or puts them back on her arm. The ones she keeps on her arms, she yanks at each one, then wraps them around her neck and tries to choke herself with them.

This, apparently, is part of the selection process, and she tosses a few more to the couch. 

He’s… not sure he wants to know why she’s considering which tie would be best to strangle someone with. That’s not a problem Danny has to deal with. It’s not in his job description.

Bruce conveniently reappears once Danny carefully changes back out of the suit. The thought of trying not to disturb the pins or chalk lines is so stressful that Danny just phased out of them once the curtain was drawn, so they’re all as untouched as they can be. 

He passes the suit to David, who leaves quickly with a goodbye tossed over his shoulder to the three of them. Cass hands three ties to Bruce, who stops by the register to get them paid for and packed up before they leave the store. 

They head back to the manor soon after. Danny’s grateful to be done, even as he spends the entire drive with his head between his knees, trying to pretend he’s anywhere else.

“How was it?” Alfred asks once Danny’s joined him in the kitchen to help with dinner. 

“Fine. David was nice. Also, I’m not sure if Cass wants to strangle me or not.”

“She’s like that sometimes,” Alfred says, then smoothly pivots the conversation into a new direction and they both silently decide to move on and pretend everything’s fine.

Eight days before the gala, Damian pops up while Danny’s removing dead leaves from the indoor plants. He hovers over Danny’s shoulder completely silent while Danny works, unaware, until Damian says, “Stop what you’re doing.”

“Shit!” Danny jumps, throwing dead leaves into the air, and goes intangible. His feet sink into the floor before he catches himself and flies up, floating in the air with a hand on his chest to keep his half-dead heart from escaping.

Damian stares at him, unimpressed. He looks at the dead leaves on the ground, then at Danny, and sighs.

“What?” Danny says, flustered. “You scared me! Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

“It’s hardly my fault you lack awareness of your surroundings.”

“Yeah, whatever. Did you need something?” Danny floats back down to the floor, tangible once again, and kneels down to clean up his mess.

After a moment of brief hesitation, Damian joins him, carefully gathering up the dead leaves closest to him.

Any annoyance Danny has at being scared like that fizzles away instantly with that little gesture. 

Damian is blunt and full of jagged edges, but he’s not unkind. 

“Has anyone shown you the emergency supply caches or escapes routes?”

Danny vaguely recalls Damian mentioning the caches but nothing else. And Danny hasn’t exactly been going out of his way to spend time with anyone but Alfred, who is busy enough teaching him how to handle all his new butler duties. 

He shakes his head, gathering up the very last leaves, the smallest of the bunch, then stands up. Damian follows suit with a disapproving click of his tongue. “I suppose I will have to do it then. Come, let us begin.”

“Woah, wait, we gotta throw these away first!” Danny tries to take the bundle of dead leaves in Damian’s hands from him, but he turns, keeping his hands out of reach with a scowl.

“Fine. You don’t need to do it for me. I’m not incapable of basic tasks.”

That was not at all what he meant by that, but okay! Danny decides to move on from that and dumps the dead leaves into the small trash bag he’s been carrying around for this task. Then he holds it out for Damian to do the same. 

Having taken care of that, Danny has no more excuses and is quickly taken on a trip around the Manor with Damian, who points out all the hidden emergency caches. 

There are so many. If Danny didn’t know about they’re vigilante activities, he would have been convinced that the Waynes were secretly doomsday preppers. 

Some are hidden in panels in the walls. Others beneath floorboards. Some behind large paintings. 

“You must carefully memorize which paintings are emergency caches. There are some paintings within the Manor that lead to secret passageways or panic rooms,” Damian says. 

“How the hell did this place get built that you guys have so many secret, hidden things in it?”

“Very carefully.”

Damian puts a hand on a panel in the wall in the next hallway and pushes against it. The wood falls back and opens silently, revealing a small space with a first aid kit, six gas masks of various sizes, and three tasers. Danny carefully takes note of the location and tries to memorize a few details around the cache so he can find it again later. 

They go through the entire manor, even unused rooms and halls, the attic, and areas that the Wayne family allows outsiders to access when they open their doors. 

Escape routes follow next, but take much less time when Danny reminds Damian that he can just fly out of the Manor whenever he wants. Danny himself is an escape route. Still, he memorizes some that go from the ballroom to the back of the manor in case he needs to evacuate people. 

“Now,” Damian says as they come to a stop in front of the grand staircase in the foyer, “Walk to every emergency cache you can remember.”

“Oh, come on,” Danny groans. “There’s no way I’m going to remember any correctly.”

“Which is why we’re doing this. If we put it off, then you won’t learn until it’s far too late.”

That doesn’t sound too bad, since Danny’s been learning on the fly since the Accident. Half the reason he managed to do what he did as Phantom was because he had no choice but to learn as he went, thrown into fights he wasn’t prepared for. It’s never gone too badly before, and he’s always been able to get out of things relatively fine. 

Then again, Gotham is much more dangerous than Amity Park. It’s not ghosts that are causing the problems here, but living people who have no qualms about killing. Danny rarely ever had to hold back his strength with ghosts; they were already dead, they could take a hit.

But here?

If Danny isn’t careful, he could kill people here. Even if he doesn’t mean too. 

He remembers how strong he felt when stopping that mugger from hurting Alfred. How fragile and small the gangster who attacked him and Dick in the mall felt trapped beneath his foot. 

In Amity Park, Danny was just another ghost.

Here in Gotham, Danny is a monster. 

Damian’s right. It’s better he be prepared so he can act more carefully, have more options at his disposal instead of just working off panicked instinct.

“Alright,” he sighs. “Just don’t be too upset when I can’t find more than one.”

Damian stares him down with hard, serious eyes, but something about the downturn of his lips makes him look more awkward than intimidating. “You are a civilian who has only just begun to learn everything about the Manor. I’m not expecting much from you.”

The words, by themselves, are harsh, but Danny can hear what he really means: You don’t have to get it perfect, you just need to know enough to be safe.

“Okay. Should we start from here?”

Damian nods, and so the roles reverse and Danny leads them around the Manor, trying to remember as many emergency cache locations as possible. He gets more than he expected, around seven correctly and six more with some hesitation and poking around in areas he knows something is hidden, but he’s not 100% sure where.

He expects that to be the end of it, but Damian just nods thoughtfully and takes the lead again, showing Danny all the caches he missed. It takes up the rest of the day, but Alfred didn’t mind when he rushed to the kitchen afterwards to help finish dinner.

The next five days are spent deep cleaning the Manor, mostly in areas where there will be high traffic, and making sure anything Bat related or generally suspicious is hidden away. He doesn’t see the Waynes much at all outside of meals, and even then it’s only Bruce, Damian, and Cass that show up regularly. Everyone else appears at random, no rhyme or reason as to when they decide to sit down to eat with the rest of the family. 

He overhears stern reminders to be careful on patrols, for the Waynes joining Bruce to make sure their clothes are ready and any needed cover stories are made and memorized. The others tease the poor souls forced to host the gala with Bruce, flaunting the fact that they get to go out and patrol like normal instead of pandering to the crowd of deeply annoying elite folk. 

None of what they say make Danny feel any better about having to work the gala.

He tries to channel his nerves into work, always finding something to do in order to keep his mind from wondering about all the things that could go wrong at the gala and spiraling. The giant crystal chandelier in the ballroom is sparkling from how thoroughly Danny’s cleaned it. 

Alfred handles all the logistical tasks, smoothing out last minute hiccups and answering questions from caterers and hired security. The ease with which he works through things has Danny in awe, hoping to one day be as capable as he is. 

Two days before the gala, his suit is delivered to the Manor. Cass somehow gets a hold of it first and ambushes Danny as he walks into the kitchen, holding a basket full of bell peppers and tomatoes. 

“Your suit!” she announces, suddenly in his face as he turns around from closing the door. One of her hands darts out and holds the basket up from the bottom, keeping any of his garden harvest from falling onto the floor as Danny freezes and tries not to jump back and bang his head into the door.

Once she’s sure he’s got his balance back, Cass steps back, presents his suit on a hanger to him, and says again, “Your suit.”

“Thanks, Cass. This couldn’t wait until I wasn’t holding stuff?”

“Nope. Go put it on!”

She smoothly takes the basket from his hands and replaces it with the suit. Then she uses her shoulder to push Danny away from the door and out of the kitchen, ending with a light, playful kick to his back.

Well. He’s no longer making spaghetti, apparently. 

With nothing else to do and no reason to deny Cass, Danny heads off to his room to get changed. He doesn’t quite remember all of Alfred’s instructions on how to put on a suit properly, so he has to look it up on his phone. It’s a long process to lay out the suit in all its pieces and then put them on in order, looking between his phone and the mirror to make sure he’s doing it right.

The only thing he doesn’t have is some sort of necktie. He’s pretty sure butlers wear little black bowties, but that could just be a movie thing. He’s pretty sure it’s what James Bond wears, anyways, which isn’t quite the look he’s going for. 

Once he’s got the suit on as well as he can manage, Danny takes a look at himself in the mirror.

He’s still pretty thin despite his appetite growing and his stomach being able to handle larger, richer meals. There’s a paleness to his skin that will probably always be there, making him look washed out and slightly drowned. His hair is a mess, as it always is, but in the suit, it looks more like a style choice than a consequence of his refusal to touch a hair brush in the mornings when he makes breakfast for himself and Alfred. 

He doesn’t look half bad. 

And the suit is fitted to him perfectly. Nothing is too tight or too loose. Everything falls where it should comfortably. 

Satisfied with his efforts to dress himself properly, Danny gets back to the kitchen to let Cass see him. It’s easier to fly through the walls than make his way down the winding hallways, so that’s what he does, passing by a startled Tim who must have just come up from the Batcave. 

Cass is sitting on the counter when he returns, kicking out her legs idly. She lights up when she spots him and claps her hands together in delight. “Nice!” she says, giving him a thumbs up.

“Thanks. I don’t have a tie or anything, so it’s not really a complete look.”

“We got ties,” she says.

“Uh, when?”

She waves a hand vaguely. “At the store. With your suit.”

Well. Bruce did buy some ties, but Danny hasn’t seen them since so he assumed they weren’t for him. For all he knows, they’re for Cass. She was the one checking them to see how well they could strangle people. He’s not really sure he wants those ties, if they’re going to be used as improvised weapons.

“I didn’t know any of those were mine. I definitely haven’t seen them since we got back.”

“Oh. I forgot.” Cass hops off the counter and says, “Stay here!” Then she’s gone, disappearing back into the depths of the manor.

“Sure, I guess,” Danny replies to no one. He stares forlornly at the basket of bell peppers and tomatoes on the counter. He would get started on the sauce if he could, but he doesn’t trust himself to keep his new and expensive suit clean while he cooks, so all he can do is look longingly at the work he should be doing.

He doesn’t wait as long as he expected to. Cass must have made use of those hidden passageways scattered all along the Manor to get back to him so quickly, three ties in hand. Or she’s just fast. One or the other.

“Here!” she says, presenting them to him. 

Danny looks them over, reaching out to feel them. They must be made of silk for how soft and smooth they are. 

One of the ties is a deep blue color with gold thread providing some embellishments. Another is a simple red, one solid color. 

It’s the last tie that holds Danny’s attention. Black with silver thread stars and planets and celestial bodies, carefully placed on the length of the tie. He’s never thought much about ties, much less about their designs, but he’s obsessed with this one. It’s perfect for him.

Cass must clock his interest in the last tie. She tosses the other two over her shoulder, then reaches out to flip his collar up. The tie goes around his neck and she ties it loosely, clearly unsure of how to properly tie it, but doing her best anyways.

Once done, she looks it over before she nods, satisfied. “Good.”

Danny looks down to lift up one lopsided end of the knot she’s made with the tie. “Thanks, Cass. This one’s great. Can I ask why you tested these three for strangling capabilities?”

She shakes her head. “Not for harming,” she explains. 

“Uh… strangling is very harmful. And that’s definitely what it looked like to me.”

She shakes her head again, stronger. With one hand, she takes one of the ties on her shoulder and loops it around her neck. “Picked the ones that won’t be bad. Hard to hurt with these. Try.” And Cass offers one end of her makeshift tie noose to Danny.

He stares. “No, thanks.”

“I’ll do it then.”

“Don’t!”

Cass grins at him, all teeth and challenge. “Stop me.”

And she yanks with all her strength, harder than she did at the tailor’s, genuinely trying to strangle herself with this silk tie. Danny chokes on his breath and scrambles to stop her, grabbing her wrist and struggling to pry the tie out of her fist. She doesn’t let him stop her, pulling harder, her grip iron and unmovable.

Danny, in a moment of panic, shoves his fingers between the tie and her throat, creating space, then makes the tie go intangible, finally freeing it from her grasp. 

“Please,” he begs, “Do not try to kill yourself in front of me.”

“Woah, what?” Tim asks, having chosen the absolute worst time to walk into the kitchen.

Cass waves at him. “Testing,” she says, pointing at the tie, the wraps her hands around her neck and mimes being strangled to death.

“Oh. I see.” Based on the way Tim is blinking at them, befuddled, he definitely doesn’t see. “Why silk ties? Those are the worst for strangulation. They slip too much.”

Danny stares down at the tie he liberated from Cass’s grasp. Slowly, he wraps on end around his wrist, ties it off, then pulls with what’s left of the tail. 

Sure enough, the tie slips along his wrist and against itself. It still pulls tight, but not as strongly as he thought it would.

So this is what Cass meant when she said these were safe. The ties she chose must be what she decided were least capable of strangling him.

It’s actually kind of sweet that she went out of her way to find something specifically so it wouldn’t be used to hurt him too much. As strange as the whole process was, he can’t deny that he’s touched by the effort she put into this.

“Unless that’s the point,” Tim continues, looking between the two of them. “Nice suit, Danny, you look great. Have you figured out where to hide weapons in it yet?”

“What? Why would I do that?”

“In case you get attacked. Always a risk at galas.”

“Are the rich people going to attack me or something?”

“No, no! Probably. But that many rich people in once place, especially in Wayne Manor, makes the gala a huge target for anyone wanting to rob us or take someone for ransom. But maybe be wary of the rich people too, there’s some really creepy old guys that are somehow still kicking.”

“Great,” Danny says weakly, “That’s exactly what I want to hear.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll be able to keep you safe. So, weapons?”

“I don’t think I need any. I have powers, remember?”

“And you can fight with them?” Tim presses.

“Fighting’s all I’ve ever really done with them, so yes.”

“I’ll take your word for it then. But remember, plenty of us will be there in case anything goes wrong, and we’ll have plenty of security around. I’m sure the gala will go fine.”

Cass points an accusing finger at Tim. “Jinx!”

He winces. “Ah. Yeah, I probably shouldn’t have said that. My bad.”

“Well, as long as I don’t have to fight rich people,” Danny tries to joke, only to blanch when Tim moves his hand in a ‘maybe-so’ back and forth motion. “I don’t have to fight rich people, right? I thought we already agreed on that!”

“You probably don’t have to fight rich people,” Tim corrects, “But there was a cult situation years ago. Like, when I was in elementary school, but B took care of it so it’s not a problem anymore. Not that it would stop them from making more cults, but we haven’t seen any recently. So.”

Danny stares at him, a little horrified. “Man, what the hell is Gotham?”

Tim and Cass snicker, as if this isn’t the reality they grew up in. “Don’t worry,” Tim says, “You’ll get used to it soon enough.”

“Ancients help me when that day comes,” Danny mutters.

He leaves them to steal snacks from the kitchen as he changes back out of the suit and is graced with their company as he makes two pots worth of spaghetti, smacking their hands with a wooden spoon when they try to sneak a taste of the sauce. 

And then, suddenly, the day of the gala of here. Danny can only hope it doesn’t end too terribly.

. . .

“The first guests will likely arrive around seven in the evening,” Alfred says as they make their final rounds to ensure the ballrooms and sitting rooms are all ready for the elite of Gotham. “Preparations will begin at noon. Security will arrive first. They have all received instructions onto where they should be. Be on the look out for anyone going to places closed to the private; we have had many people in the past be bribed to steal from us while had them employed for an event.”

“What should I do if I do find someone out of place?”

“First, try to escort them back to where they should be. If they resist, then do whatever you deem necessary.”

“And when you say ‘anything necessary,’ does that include���”

Alfred stops to look Danny directly in the eyes as he firmly says, “Anything.” And then continues walking as if that didn’t just happen. Danny hurries to follow, putting into practice his newest, most important skill of moving right on past that shit.

“Tables and chairs for the ballroom will arrive at one. I’ve printed out the layout they need to be placed in. The rental company has a copy of these instructions, so all you need to do is oversee the set up. Catering will arrive at five to set up, cook, and have food out and ready for guests.”

“Do I have to greet any of the guests?”

“Not at all. Master Bruce has that responsibility. I will be taking care of coats and bags for guests. I will need you to direct cars to the drop off point in front of the ballroom entrance.”

“Everyone’s being dropped off?”

“That is correct. You don’t need to worry about arranging rides for anyone, as that is something they have to do themselves.”

Okay. Cool. It’s still stressful, still a lot that Danny has to be in charge of, but it’s not as overwhelming as he thought it would be. Alfred hasn’t given him too much to do, and all of it is easy enough for him to take care of with his current skill levels. As long as no guests come up to him demanding he do stuff for them, he should be fine.

They split up after they leave the ballroom to put up the velvet ropes that will hopefully keep people from wandering into places they aren’t allowed to be. From what he’s heard, it shouldn’t be a problem except with particularly drunk guests. The Wayne family is big and important in Gotham, enough so that any and all guests will be careful to be respectful while attending the gala. 

Danny double checks the list he was given of where to place the rope barriers, double checking that he got all of them. 

After that, it’s a flurry of tasks to be completed, last minute details to fix, and preparing lunch for everyone so no one goes hungry until the gala begins.

In no time at all, security arrives and Danny is tasked with directing them to their positions, helping them review their routes to keep the venue safe. It’s off putting to be the one listened to when he’s so much younger than everyone, but none of the hired security guards act like anything’s out of the ordinary while with him. It’s probably just in his own head, but it still feels wrong.

Tables and chairs arrive after that, and Danny helps them get to where they need to be placed. He helps with moving some of the tables as well, putting his enhanced strength to good use so the other workers don’t have to struggle so much. Tablecloths are set out, carefully smoothed of wrinkles. Floral centerpieces follow.

There’s only one near miss with two workers crashing into each other and the centerpiece—with its glass vase—goes flying amid the horrified gasps of the others. Danny had just managed to catch it in time, moving on instinct honed from years of ghost fights.

The relief on everyone’s faces helped him feel more at ease working with them.

By the time they’re done and everything is where it should be, properly put together, the catering arrives, bringing with them another flurry of movement and energy.

Danny lets himself get swept up in it, helping where he can. He almost doesn’t notice how late it’s gotten until Alfred appears at the entrance to the ballroom and looks at him expectantly. 

Everything is as set up as it could be. The rest of the staff are now to act as waiters, basically, carting around drinks and finger foods for the elite. Danny will just get underfoot if he stays.

He leaves with a quick goodbye and is waved off by more people than he expected. 

Alfred falls into step with him as they make their way to the servant’s quarters to get changed into the gala suits. Before they part ways to go into their own rooms, Alfred gently claps a hand against Danny’s back.

“Well done,” he says warmly when Danny looks at him. He looks proud of Danny, so proud that it makes Danny’s eyes well up with tears he hurries to dash away. 

“Thanks!” he returns with a bright smile, and ducks into his room to try to get his emotions under control before he has to meet a bunch of rich people with red eyes and tear tracks on his face.

To think he can be undone so easily with just two words.

Jazz would probably have a whole lot to say about that. He misses her psychoanalyzing annoying big sister attitude so badly it hurts, a wound that will never heal. He hopes she’s doing alright wherever she is now. He’s ruined enough of her life, he’d like it if his disappearance doesn’t hurt her too much.

Taking in a deep breath, Danny shoves away all thoughts of home and family. He needs to focus. He’s here to do a job. He needs to make sure the gala goes smoothly.

Step one of that plan is to put on his suit and fix his hair so he looks more put together and less on the verge of an emotional breakdown.

He completes step one more or less successful. The only thing he can’t do is knot his tie nicely, and no video tutorials he watches really helps. With the time limit he’s on, Danny just gives up and decides to ask Alfred for help.

Alfred is already in the hallway waiting for him when Danny opens his door. He holds up his tie with a sheepish smile. “So, I don’t actually know what to do with this…?”

Alfred’s eyes soften and he waves Danny over. “Allow me.” 

He takes the tie from Danny’s hands and flips up his collar. With clean, precise movements, he has the tie around Danny’s neck and neatly knotted into what is probably a fancy shape that Danny will never be able to recreate. Then his collar is smoothed down again by Alfred’s hands, which quickly move to straighten out the lapels of his suit. 

“There we are,” he says. “And look at you now: a proper butler of the Wayne family.”

A warmth settles deep in his chest. There’s joy, rising on strong wings, that sweeps through him. 

He’s still an apprentice.  He still has so much to learn. But tonight, he will go out as the future butler of the Wayne family. That is how this world will know him. Alfred has carved out a place in this foreign dimension just for him, and finally Danny feels like he can take it, settle in, finally belong here beyond just a charity case taken in from the streets.

“Are you ready to work your first official event?”

“I’m as ready as I’ll ever be,” Danny replies, standing taller. 

“I’m glad to hear it. And Danny, if you ever need a break, you can hide away in the kitchen for as long as you need. I’ll be sure to join you in there eventually.”

“Got it!” And then, softer, “Thanks, Alfred.”

“But of course, Danny. Tonight will be busy. It may even be overwhelming. But I will be there for you should you ever need me.”

Danny nods, biting his lip and squeezing his eyes shut so he doesn’t start crying. He had been doing so good too! But Alfred’s honest words always throw him off balance. 

He has no defense against Alfred’s kindness. That’s how he ended up here in the first place. Pulling himself together with nothing but stubbornness and sheer will power, Danny lets out a steady breath, then starts walking. Alfred joins him as they return to the ballroom and gives him one more pat on the back before splitting off to tend to his own gala duties.

Left alone in the ballroom, surrounded by the bustle of staff finishing up their last minute tasks, Danny takes in the glittering opulence of the place; this isn’t the warm, lived in Wayne Manor full of history and family and comfort. This is cold and sharp, all gold and bright lights, a stage for false personalities and masks to take the spotlight for the night.

A group of musicians in the back of the ballroom fill the air with the sound of strings and flutes as they tune their instruments and prepare to play for hours on end. 

Food is set up and serving stations all have someone behind them, standing with their hands behind their back as they wait for the first guests to trickle in.

It’s nearly seven. Danny hurries outside, ready to wave drivers towards him, directing them down the gravel path that branches off from the main driveway that goes to the front door of Wayne Manor. It takes barely a few minutes before he sees the first headlights make their way down the makeshift road. 

Danny waves a hand in the air and the driver stops right in front of him. An old couple dressed lavishly get out of the car and stand together, arm in arm.

“Oh, who’s this?” the old woman coos, looking at him. 

Danny gives her a tight smile. “Hello, and welcome! I’m Danny, the apprentice butler to the Wayne family.”

“How darling,” she says, pressing a hand against her chest. “It’s been too long since I’ve met a young man like you learning the art of butling. Why, my own family had an apprentice back when I was in college, and he went off to serve a family in Spain that was closely related to the Spanish royal family.”

“That’s cool,” Danny replies, trying to hide how awkward he feels. “I think I’m going to stay with the Wayne family, though. I’m not that ambitious.”

“Waynes are close to royals in Gotham. They’re the most important family in the city. Why, I remember when Martha and Thomas were killed in Park Row. It was a dark day for us all…”

Woah, what? That’s the first time he’s heard of any murders happening in the Wayne family.

Some of his shock must shown on his face, as the old couple suddenly look more engage, more eager to talk to him.

“Why don’t you escort us in, son,” the old man says, “And we’ll tell you about it was we walk.” 

The couple begin to slowly walk to the Manor, slow with age though they still hold themselves tall. Danny falls in step with them and the man begins to weave a tale about a much younger Bruce Wayne and the parents who loved him so dearly, and how the sudden, tragic loss of them rocked the world.

Danny doubts he ever would have found out about this on his own. And he certainly won’t have known the impact the Waynes have had on Gotham. The fact that their lives and deaths mold the city is a heavy realization.

The couple keep him at the door to the ballroom for a few minutes to wrap up their story. Danny glances out over the grounds every so often to make sure there aren’t any headlights in the distance coming his way until they thank him for the escort and go inside, leaving him to wait for more guests.

He never really thought about why the Waynes go out each night as vigilantes. It’s dangerous, thankless work and no one would do it without a reason.

He can see, suddenly, a young Bruce, just a child, suddenly lost and adrift in a world that murdered his parents. He can see that child decide to fight back in any way he can. He can see Batman rise from the heart of that child and swear to prevent anyone else from experiencing the pain he had to survive. 

And he can see Alfred standing behind that boy, carrying his own grief as he takes care of a child who grows up ready to throw his life away for a cause far greater than himself. 

How they can bear it?

Danny is both the one who left and the one left behind, running from his parents just as they turned their backs on him, and it destroyed him. He’s only just now building himself back up again, feeling more stable and steady despite the hole in his heart that will never close. At least he got the privilege of starting fresh in this dimension. Bruce and Alfred had to grow around the loss that is embedded into the city.

He really doesn’t know much about them, he realizes. This is the first time he’s really considered their histories. 

Maybe Alfred will be willing to talk to him about it later. 

With those thoughts heavy on his mind, it’s hard from him to be fully focused as he directs cars to stop before him one by one. More guests in fancy suits and elegant dresses step out and walk into the ballroom, only a few bothering to greet him as they go. His mind keeps drifting as he pastes on a smile and waves to drivers as they leave.

He stays outside for another hour before the last of the cars leave. The gala is in full swing when he ducks inside, sticking to the walls as Gotham’s richest mingle together in the ballroom. The low murmur of voices fill the air alongside the music, high strings playing a soft melody to fill the background as people wander around with glasses of champagne in hand, nibbling on finger foods.

Bruce is the center of attention, smiling jovially in a dark blue suit, the first two buttons of his silk shirt undone. 

It’s hard to see him as a once grieving child, full of rage and determination, ready to take on the world. Bruce as he is now looks like a perfect socialite, surrounded by a small crowd of people all vying for his attention as he talks loudly, gesturing with broad movements, keeping their attention. 

Tim is hanging off to the side near the musician, talking to a small group of people his age. They all look more relaxed and down to earth than any of the older people, so perhaps there’s hope for the next generation of Gotham’s high society.

Danny wanders a bit to make sure everything’s going well, checking in with the other staff members to see if there’s anything he can help with. But they have everything under control, so he can do nothing but try not to mess with the sleeves of his suit as he keeps circling the ballroom.

On his third circuit, Tim breaks away from his group and weaves around other guests to smoothly reach him.

“Is Damian here?” he asks, eyes darting around the ballroom.

Danny frowns. “I haven’t seen him. Did he come in with you?”

“He did, and then he left us as soon as we had greeted most of the guests. He’s supposed to stay out here for a few more hours, and I told him to just stick with me.”

“Where do you think he’s gone?”

Tim sighs, lowering his voice a bit. “He could be anywhere, honestly. He hates galas, which I get, but we needed him here because he’s Bruce’s bio kid. At this point, I wouldn’t be surprised if Damian went downstairs to get away.”

If Damian ditched the gala to go punch criminals, that would be bad, to say the least.

“I’ll go look for him,” Danny says. “Don’t worry, I’m sure I can get him back up here.”

“Thanks, Danny. I gotta get back to it. Also,” Tim adds in a whisper, “Don’t worry if Bruce seems like a different person or super drunk. He’s really good at acting.”

“Okay…?” 

Danny’s not really sure what that has to do with him, but he appreciates the heads up anyways. He’s been excusing all of Bruce’s weirdness as either ‘Batman-related’ or ‘none of his business’, so he’s fine ignoring whatever Bruce gets up to tonight as well.

Now that he has a task to complete, Danny gladly leaves the ballroom to find Damian. 

He starts off checking the sitting rooms, which already have a few of the guests lounging in, drinking wine and gossiping. The other areas that guests can access are all Damian-free, which is about what he expected. 

Danny moves on past the rope barriers, nodding to some of the security guards walk by on their patrol, ensuring no guests, invited or otherwise, go deeper into the Manor. 

The kitchen is empty. As are the living rooms on the ground floor. 

Maybe Damian’s in his bedroom? Or his art studio. Those are the only two other places Danny would think to find Damian that’s not the Batcave. 

He just really doesn’t want to go down there again. Especially not on his own.

Just as he reaches the top of the stairs to the second floor, Danny sees someone walking down the hall. It’s not Damian, far too tall to be a teenage boy, and they’re moving slowly, looking around as if searching for something.

“Hey!” Danny calls out to them, striding towards them quickly. “You’re not supposed to be up here.”

They turn, and Danny recognizes the uniform for the security guards that are meant to be at their positions around the ballroom. This man has taken off his jacket, leaving him in a simple button down shirt and dark pants, a gun tucked into a hostler by his hip. 

“Oh, sorry, I thought I heard something up here and went to check it out.”

“This is pretty far from the ballroom. It would be hard to hear anything here from where you were supposed to be. Wanna try that one again?”

The easygoing smile on the guard’s face disappears, replaced by a dark scowl and a dangerous glint in his eyes. “Listen kid, this will be easier for all of us if you just walk away now. Don’t make me do anything you’ll regret.” He puts his hand on the holster. The threat is clear.

But Danny’s had guns pointed at him from years. He’s dodged shots from his own parents. One guy isn’t going to scare him.

“It would be easier if you just went back to you post and did the job you were paid to do.”

“Oh, trust me, I’m doing exactly what I was paid to do.” He grins, sharp and mean, and pulls out his gun.

Okay! Great!

Danny’s not nice anymore. And Alfred already gave him permission to do anything he deems necessary.

In a blink, Danny’s closed the distance between them and tosses the man over his shoulder. He kicks the gun out of his hand and is about to try to flip him over so he can put the guard in a shoulder pin, but a knee slams into his stomach, knocking the breath out of him.

Danny wheezes and is kicked back, stumbling to keep his balance. The guard rises to his feet and lunges forward, throwing a straight punch. It’s easy enough to dodge it, ducking to the side and stepping closer to try to knock the guard down again, but he pulls his arm back a bit, bends it, and slams his elbow into Danny’s face.

Pain races through his skull as he falls back, hands flying up to his nose. It’s probably broken, already gushing blood, and it stains his teeth as he bares them in a snarl and grabs hold of his ghost powers.

Teeth sharpen into fangs. His eyesight gets sharper, the iron taste of blood stronger in his mouth, and icy fog wafts out of his mouth. 

“The fuck—” is all the guard is able to say before Danny tackles him. The force of it knocks them both to the ground, the guard’s head hitting the floor hard. He tries to force Danny off of him again, but Danny holds tight, blood still dripping off his face. “No one said the Waynes has a fucking meta with them!”

“Bad luck,” Danny says, a growl turning his voice into a low rumble, staticky even to his own ears, and the guard pales. 

All it takes is one hand to lift him but his shirt, the fabric of it held tight in his hands. And then Danny slams him back against the ground, making his head bounce, and the guard is out cold. 

He means to drag the guard someplace where he can be locked away until someone can deal with him, but screams rise up from the ballroom, stealing away his attention.

Shit, something must have happened!

As much as he wants to go racing back to help, his priority is Damian. 

The other guests will be protected by the guards (hopefully) and Bruce and Tim. But Damian is unaccounted for, and the longer Danny can’t find him, the more danger he’ll be in.

There’s no point in being discrete or quiet now. Danny runs down the hallway, shouting Damian’s name. 

He doesn’t get any response.

His nose throbs with dull pain each step he takes. His suit is a lost cause, covered in his blood and rumpled from the fight. None of that matters at all as he races down the halls, trying to find Damian.

Distantly, he hears gunshots and more screaming from the ballroom. 

Danny grits his teeth and gives up on running entirely to fly recklessly through walls, dreading every second that passes. 

The second floor is empty, save for the prone figure of the guard lying in the hallway near the stairs. He doesn’t have time to search any higher floors, so Danny goes back down to the ground floor, hoping that the noise from the ballroom would have drawn Damian out. He’s bound to have heard it, wherever he is in the Manor.

He drops back down to this feet and pushes his ghostliness away as he draws closer to the ballroom, wary of running into someone. It doesn’t seem like any of the guests had been able to get out of the ballroom. 

Every so often, there’s a single gun shot. The sound chills him to the bone.

Just as he’s getting closer to the open areas of the Manor, within the rope boundaries he set up with Alfred earlier, he hears a noise in a sitting room that makes him slow to a stop, listening intently. It’s a soft noise, at first. Just a few clinks of objects being moved. Then there are heavy footsteps moving slowly. 

Whoever it is can’t be Damian. He would never be so loud when he walks. 

The door is partially open, so Danny peeks in to see who it is.

It’s not a guard. It’s not any member of the staff that arrive to work the gala. 

In front of a broken window is a large man with a dark orange bandana tied around his nose and mouth, obscuring the bottom half of his face. He’s twitchy, pacing back and forth unsteadily, mumbling to himself. When he turns, the light catches on a glint in his eyes, the same drugged sheen that’s been present with other people who have attacked members of the Wayne household. 

Danny plans to creep in and knock him out so there’s one less person to worry about when a large hand grabs the back of his suit and lifts him up like he weighs nothing. A startled noise slips out of his mouth, making the man in the room whirl around, glaring at him.

“Caught a peeper!” announces the man holding up Danny. He’s large, bigger than a bodybuilding, like the one Danny fought in the mall. “Think Boss will give us more Venom if we drag this thing in?”

The other guy looks over Danny consideringly. “Nah. Bring him here. We can deal with him on our own.”

The not-body building walks into the room, unbothered by how Danny struggles in his hold, kicking out at the air. 

Danny’s thrown unceremoniously onto the floor, where he turns into a roll and gets back up to his feet, carefully keeping both of them in his line sight.

“Oooh, he thinks he’s a fighter,” not-body builder cackles. 

Danny glances at the door. 

“Don’t even think about running,” the first man says. “You work here, don’t you? Why don’t you tell us all about the goodies we can steal from this place. Make us rich and I’ll let you walk away alive.”

All this just for a robbery?

The guns, the break in, the violence, just for a robbery?

That’s fucking insulting. 

Danny checks the open door one more time to make sure no one’s coming their way, then launches himself at not-body builder. His ghost strength comes rushing back into him just as he hits, sending the not-body builder stumbling back with a surprised shout. He wobbles, trying to keep his balance, then falls.

He doesn’t waste a second before kicking his head and knocking him out. 

That’s one down.

Danny takes a deep breath, trying to wrestle down his strength so he doesn’t accidentally do serious damage to the other man, who is much smaller, only to gasp, breath punched out of him. A sharp pain tears through his back, which was left open to the other intruder.

Stupid, stupid! he berates himself, trying to get away. 

But the man holds him still with a hand on his shoulder, and Danny, in his panic, goes intangible.

The knife and the man’s arm go right through his torso.

Danny looks down at the knife. Looks at the arm. Both of them are frozen from this sudden turn of events.

His mind goes blank and he desperately tries to think of what to do when an idea parades itself to the front of him mind, to say: IMPROV.

“What the hell did you do to me?!” Danny cries out, putting as much terror into his voice as possible. 

“What did I  do?” the intruder sputters, pulling back. “I didn’t do anything!”

“Yes you did!” Danny argues. “I’m fucking air! You made me not-solid!”

“That wasn’t me!”

Taking a chance, Danny recalls what the guard upstairs said, and says, “You’re a meta?!”

“I’m not!” the intruder denies, “I didn’t do this to you!”

Danny spins around to face him, trying not to wince when the movement pulls at his back. “Fix this!”

“I can’t! I told you, I didn’t do it! This must be your doing!”

“I think I would know if I could turn into air,” Danny refutes, channelling Paulina to give him a withering look that will, hopefully, make him feel small and stupid. She always was great at digging her heels in and driving people mad with her stubbornness while tearing down their self esteem. He tosses his head back to glare at the intruder, meeting his eyes. “This is clearly your fault so fix it!”

They’re just going back and forth, thrown off their rhythm and scrambling to work though the situation Danny created for them. He doesn’t know how to put a stop to it. He really doesn’t want to be stabbed again.

“I really didn’t do it!” the intruder insists. He looks down at his own hands, faltering. “Right? There’s no way that could have been me…”

He doesn’t get any more time to contemplate whether or not he has powers because his body abruptly tenses, twitches sporadically, and then his eyes roll up and he passes out.

Behind him, holding a taser and wearing a deep scowl, is Damian.

Danny is so relieved to see him that he feels weak in the knees. The blood loss is not helping with that matter. “Damian!” he says, “Where were you? I’ve been looking for you!”

“I felt that something was off so I went to investigate. I found some of the guards marking areas around the ballroom as entries for the gang that’s taken over the ballroom. I was trying to take them out before this happened, but I wasn’t fast enough.”

“What is going on right now?”

“From what I heard when I traversed the vents above the ballroom, the leader of a recently established gang has taken over to take the valuables of all the guests. He is recreating Venom and trying to replace Bane.” Damian shakes his head. “That fool is just going to get himself killed. Bane will stop at nothing to have his head now.”

“I take it this Bane person is a big deal?”

Danny purses his lips, then looks away. “We’ll catch you up on the villains around here later. Come with me, there are others still around.”

“Are we going to the ballroom?”

“No. Black Bat and Nightwing are already here to take care of it. They’re just waiting for an opening. We will be taking out the intruders outside the ballroom, then going to the Batcave to join Pennyworth.”

Damian tries to take hold of Danny’s wrist, but his hand goes right through. He stares down at it in shock, as though he was betrayed.

“Oh, right. Sorry.” Danny drops his intangibility and pats Damian’s hand to let him know he’s solid again.

Damian looks up at him and squints. “Are you alright? You’re bleeding.”

Danny brings a hand up to his face. It’s clean of blood. He must have let it all fall off of him when he went intangible, but his nose is still bleeding and it’s quickly rolling down his face again. He can feel his back get more wet, too, the stab wound steadily pulsing with pain, blood spreading through his suit.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Danny says. He’s survived way worse than a broken nose and a small stab wound. There are people in danger and people trying to hurt them. That takes priority over him, any day.

“Your nose?”

Danny shrugs. “Probably not broken?”

Damian reaches out and prods at his nose, checking it. It brings up flares of dull pain, but it’s not enough that Danny can’t stay still during this. In a matter of seconds, Damian nods and pulls his hands away, so the damage to his face probably isn’t anything to worry about. Danny’s going to trust Damian on this one.

“Very well. Let’s go then. And take this.” Damian holds out his taser to Danny.

“Um. Don’t you need it?”

“I am more than capable of taking people down without weapons. You need this more than I do.”

That’s fair. Danny gingerly takes the taser, keeping his thumb above the switch that will flip it on and have it buzzing with electricity. He follows Damian’s lead as they creep down the hall, staying low and quiet on their feet. Damian keeps in the lead, checking that it’s safe to move before signaling for Danny to follow. 

They take out three more intruders before the lights in the Manor flicker and then go out. Noise swells up in the ballroom before another gunshot silences it.

Danny tenses, fearing the worst, but Damian reaches back to squeeze his hand and whisper, “It’s alright. That was the moment Black Bat and Nightwing were waiting for. They’ll take care of it.”

When he strains his hearing, he can just pick out the shattering of glass and muffled cries of pain. He doesn’t hear anyone’s voices, but as long as no one is screaming, it’s fine. Probably. He hopes, anyways.

They circle around the ballroom, checking room and hallways, but it seems that most of the intruders didn’t bother hanging around out here when all their targets were conveniently in one large room. Having cleared out all the intruders they could, Damian leads them to Bruce’s office.

“What are we doing here?” Danny asks, keeping his voice low as he keeps one eye on the door to ensure no one comes in.

“We’re going to the Batcave,” Damian answers absentmindedly as he fiddles with a grandfather clock behind a desk.

Danny blinks. “Wait, we go in from here?”

“Look.” Danny looks to where Damian has opened up the grandfather clock to reveal a dark staircase that leads down, deep beneath the Manor.

“Huh,” is all Danny can say to that. It’s definitely safer than just falling through the floor like Danny did, but somehow it feels a little anticlimactic. It’s just stairs. It’s very hard to make stairs cool.

They could have at least put in a fire pole. 

A giant underground vigilante cave and not a single fire pole to slide down on? What’s the point then?

Danny holds back a sigh, then grimaces at the heavy taste of blood in his mouth. His nose isn’t hurting as much anymore, just a dull throb, and it’s easily ignored when his back flares with pain with each minute movement. He looks down at the stairs as Damian begins his descent, already wincing at how much it’s going to stuck going down them with a stab wound. 

He could really use that fire pole right now.

Or, actually, why bother taking the stairs? Danny’s half-ghost. It needs to be good for something.

Danny promptly goes ghost, flies down into the cave completely invisible and intangible, then drops back to the ground in a quick flash of light, human again. He intends to stand up and wait where there’s more light, but his head suddenly spins as his vision goes dark. There’s a buzzing in his ears and he gets a strange, floating feeling, as if he’s no longer in his body, just drifting out into open air. 

The floor is cold against his cheek. The floor is…

The floor?

Danny blinks his eyes open, wondering when he closed them. It takes a moment to realize that he’s lying down, somehow, on his back in some dark corner of the cave. There’s a hand on his shoulder, shaking him gently.

He tries to say something but his voice dies halfway out of his throat. A few more blinks has his eyes clearing enough that he can see Damian crouched in front of him, looking over his head, mouth moving as he speaks, though Danny can’t hear anything. His ears are still ringing. 

The world sways around him.

He closes his eyes trying to count his breaths so the world will feel more solid around him. Wayne Manor just got attacked. Now is not the time to be lying around.

But he can’t force himself to get up. His body refuses to respond to him. All he can do is lie on the floor of the cave, trying to get his head to stop spinning, feeling the heat of the wound in his back as it presses against cold stone. 

Arms wind around him, lifting him up, and Danny whines as it jostles him. More blood spills out of his stab wound, soaking his suit even more. Distantly, he hears someone curse as he’s moved into a more brightly lit area. It’s too bright, even with his eyes closed, and Danny turns his face, trying to hide from it. 

A hand runs through his hair, soothing him. He’s carefully set down on something—a bed?

So they can have soft, high quality beds in their vigilante cave, but no fire poles. The Waynes need to get their priorities straight.

He tries to say something about that, but just mumbles out some slurred, nonsense sounds.

Someone hushes him kindly. The hand keeps brushing his hair back soothingly.

And then—

His shirt.

They’re opening his shirt.

They’re taking off his jacket.

Danny is laid out, helpless, held down, and they’re stripping him of his clothes. Terror slams into him like a train, ice in his veins chilling him from the inside out. His eyes snap open and his  blurry vision catches sight of two heads bend down over him, features dark and unrecognizable, backlit by the light shining too brightly right above his face.

His breath stutters in his chest as he stares at them, horrified and betrayed.

What are they doing to him?!

Panicked, Danny beings to thrash, adrenaline surging through it. It dulls his pain, lifts the lead from his limbs, makes him gather enough strength to try to push them away. More hands appear, trying to hold him down and a hoarse scream tears out of his throat. It doesn’t have any power, can’t throw them away from him, and stutters to a stop a few seconds later. 

“No!” he cries, tears leaking out of his eyes. “No, stop! Don’t, please don’t do this to me…”

A sob catches in his chest so hard is hurts. 

The people above him speak over each other, their words melding together. He doesn’t know what they’re saying, just that they’re speaking, but it does nothing to calm him down.

How can he be calm?

They’re trying to cut him open.

He tries to go ghost and his entire body lights up in pain, back arching off the bed as he screams again. 

The lights go out. The hands disappear. 

The world goes still.

Danny heaves for breath, shivering. 

It takes a long time before he feels solid again. Less likely to shake out of his own body. He doesn’t know what just happened. He should be able to go full ghost, but he entire body refused. It hurt and hurt and hurt and he doesn’t understand why.

It’s not just a failure of his powers, but a betrayal.

Slowly, he begins to breathe evenly. His entire body still hurts, but it’s the pain of a bruise, not an electric current running through the whole of him. The world steadies itself and his vision clears up properly.

Something cold touches his hand.

Danny flinches back, then looks up to see Alfred. 

Alfred, who’s aged face is lined with deep concern. Who stands just close enough to hold out the water bottle to Danny. Who doesn’t crowd him or demand answers. 

Alfred, who is safe.

Without thinking about it, Danny sags towards him. Alfred has to step closer, steady him with a hand on his shoulder.

“Danny, my boy,” he says, “Can you hear me now?”

Now? Was Alfred speaking earlier? 

Danny nods, blinking up at him.

“Wonderful. Do you think you could drink some water?”

Another nod. He looks down at the water bottle and its unsealed cap, then his own trembling hands. He doesn’t think he can open it.

Before he can ask Alfred for help, another hand appears in his line of sight, from the other side of the bed. Damian grabs the water bottle and twists it open, then shoves it into Danny’s hands with a click of his tongue.

He doesn’t let go until he’s sure Danny has a solid grip on it.

Danny tries to thank him, but his throat clicks from how sore and dry it is. He drinks half the bottle in one go, clears his throat, and is able to say, “Sorry about that.”

“There’s no need to be sorry,” Alfred says, just as Damian says, “If you’re sorry, then take off your shirt so we can tend to you. You’re injured.”

Alfred turns to Damian with a severe look on his face and Danny hurries to intervene before things can get messy. Or, messier. 

“Right. Sorry. Again. It’s not a big deal, it’s just a small stab wound.”

“A stab wound?” Alfred repeats. “Danny, please let me tend to it. It may need stitches.”

“It doesn’t—”

“You don’t know that,” Damian hisses. “Let Pennyworth help you, or I’ll do it myself. And you won’t like it if I do it myself.”

Danny is ready to refuse again, but the clear concern in Alfred’s eyes stops him. 

He does need help. He doesn’t want to cause trouble for Alfred.

“Fine,” he bites out. “But don’t—don’t touch me if you can avoid it and don’t ask any question.” He doesn’t give himself a chance to second guess, just pulls at his shirt and suit coat, going intangible to get it off him without lifting his arms. Strangely, that doesn’t hurt the way trying to go full ghost did. 

Something to consider later.

The silence that follows is heavy. Danny can’t stand it; he wants to hide away, to rewind the last hour so he can undo what he’s just done, pretend he’s still fine. All his scars are on display. The arcs of electricity from the Accident that have embedded themselves into his skin, close calls from ghost fights that were bad enough to leave a mark in his human form, the burns from his parents inventions locking onto him before he was able to deactivate them.

Alfred lets out a slow breath. Then he says, “Master Damian, if you could get—”

“Of course.” And Damian is up and moving, the light above him turning on. It’s much dimmer than it was before.

“If you could please turn around, Danny. I need to see what I’m working with.”

Danny forces himself to turn, showing his back to Alfred. He’s tense, every inch of him ready to run. 

It’s Alfred, he tells himself sternly. Alfred won’t hurt him. He’s safe.

Damian returns, handing something off to Alfred. He can hear them move, hear things being prepped behind him, metal against metal, and another sliver of terror runs down his spine.

“Stop,” he says without meaning to. 

The cave goes quiet again, both Damian and Alfred freezing. Danny swallows roughly, then turns back to face them. “I can’t,” he chokes out. “I can’t—I need—I need to be able to see you.”

“Then I’ll do your stitches,” Damian announces. He rounds the bed, snapping on a pair of latex gloves. “I am more than capable. Even before I came to Gotham I had learned how to provide medical aid both in practice and on the field.”

“I’ll be right here,” Alfred reassures him. “Master Damian is very capable. He will do a good job at this.”

Danny nods, taking in a shaky breath. “Okay. Okay. Then, please, Damian.” 

“I’ll apply the local anesthesia now. This will keep you from feeling the stitches go in.” Danny tenses, and then the area around his stab wound goes numb, the pain dulling.

Alfred takes hold of his hands. “Breathe with me,” he instructs. Danny does his best, keeping his eyes on Alfred, matching him with each deep, even breath. 

He tries not to be too tense, to think about when Damian will begin, if he’s already started, all the questions they will ask him about his many scars…

“Done,” Damian announces.

…What?

“What? Already?”

“Yes,” Damian says, a pleased note in his voice. “I told you I knew what I was doing. I’m going to put the bandage on it now. Do not get it wet.”

His back and shoulder are still numb enough that he doesn’t feel the bandage get put on, so he just takes Damian’s word for it. That wasn’t as bad as he expected it to be. In fact, that went really well? Fast, too. Danny would have never been able to stitch himself in that time.

Alfred squeezes his hands, leads him through a few more breaths, then pulls away. He helps Danny lie on his side and pulls the blanket up over him. 

“Get some rest now, Danny. I’ll be here while you sleep.”

“Wait, the gala. Is everyone…?”

“Everyone is alright. The police had been contacted and will be here soon. Nightwing and Black Bat have the situation under control. There is nothing more you need to do.” A hand drops over Danny’s eyes, blocking out the light. “You can rest now, Danny.”

He’s sure that he won’t be able to sleep at all, let alone soundly, after all that. But his body has other ideas and in no time he’s pulled under into that deep darkness that shuts away the rest of the world and lets him drift away. . . .

(The scar map of Danny is being uploaded into the Batcomputer’s archives when Nightwing arrives, carrying a plate full of finger foods pilfered from the gala.

“Where’s Danny?!” he demands, sweeping his gaze across the entirety of the Batcave. He sees Danny curled up in a medical cot before Alfred can answer. “What happened?”

“He was stabbed,” Damian answers nonchalantly from where he’s going through sword katas to work out some of his more volatile emotions.

“Stabbed?!”

“Yes, that’s what I said.”

Cass appears behind Nightwing, already shedding parts of her uniform. She steals something from the plate in Nightwing’s hand and is about to eat it when he hisses, “That’s for Danny!” 

She slowly puts it back on the plate. 

Alfred watches her stare at Danny in the medical cot, then turn on her heel to go to the lockers to change out of the rest of her suit. 

“Miss Cassandra, if you could please pick up all your clothes off the floor,” he says as she walks. Cass darts back to pick up everything she dropped behind Nightwing, then disappears into the locker room.

Nightwing finally shakes himself out of his stupor and makes his way over to Alfred, setting the plate down next to him. “Seriously, is Danny alright?”

Alfred places his hands on the desk, palms flat against it, and very calmly says, “Hunting down every person who has ever hurt him will be the last mission I ever go out on.”

“Shit.”

In any other case, he would have reprimanded Nightwing’s language. In this case, it’s the only appropriate response.

“Once the police are gone and the guests seen off, we need to have another family discussion. Danny is a very brave and very strong lad, but he’s gone through far too much. We must do better.”

“I’ll call the war council then.”

“See that you do, Nightwing.”

Alfred nods to him, then pulls the chair away from the Batcomputer to Danny’s medical cot, and sits with him. Looking down at his thin, worn face, Alfred is reminded of Bruce, in the aftermath of his parents’ murder, of Dick’s first nights in the Manor, of Jason and his nightmares, Tim and his loneliness. Now, Danny and his fear will join the expressions he never wants to see on his family again.

He is so young, so fragile, so bright and wonderful despite it all.

Yes, war council is the only appropriate way to move forward. It is the least he can do for Danny, so do it he will.)

[moodymelanist]

Hey There, Summerboy

happy @cassianappreciationweek everyone! i'm so so excited to see what everyone creates for this week<3

does parasailing count as flying? of course it does. hope y'all enjoy this one and see you again for more cassian goodness later this week!!

Summary: When the Valkyries’ parasailing excursion doesn’t go as planned, the hot guy on the beach swoops in to help Nesta out.

Word Count: 2,165

Read on AO3 here!

✵✵✵✵✵ Nesta

Nesta sighed happily as she reclined in her lounge chair, shifting ever so slightly to make herself more comfortable. She’d been looking forward to this vacation for months now, and God did it feel good to relax by the pool without a care in the world. The sun was warming her perfectly, she looked great in her navy one-piece, and she’d deleted Outlook from her phone for the week.

She, Emerie, and Gwyn had planned a much-needed girls trip to Mexico, and so far everything had been going perfectly. They’d booked an all-inclusive resort in Cancun – a little further down the hotel strip to lower their chances of being bombarded by college students – and the food was good, the weather was perfect, and Nesta had never enjoyed her life more than this moment.

All she needed now was for Gwyn and Emerie to come join her, but they were taking their time enjoying the buffet. Nesta knew they were actually trying to decide whether a pretty blonde woman and her brooding friend were dating or just friends, so she told them to just catch up with her by the pool once they were finished.

Nesta let herself doze for a bit while she waited for them, and she returned to full awareness at the feeling of someone gently poking her shoulder. “Hmm?”

“Good afternoon, sleepyhead,” Gwyn said from above her with a wide grin. She pushed her sunglasses up on top of her head, her hand even more freckled than usual thanks to all the time they’d been spending in the sun. “You ready for our excursion?”

“What are we doing again?” Nesta asked, sitting up once she’d adequately stretched her limbs out. Gwyn had gone a little crazy with booking fun things for them to do, and while normally Nesta would be trying to reel her in just a little, she’d been so exhausted and burnt out from work lately that she hadn’t had the heart to tell Gwyn no.

“Parsailing,” Emerie answered. She messed with the straps of her black bathing suit before adding, “We just have to go down to the beach.”

“Yeah, okay,” Nesta replied, glad that she’d worn a more secure bathing suit today. “Let me pack up my stuff and we can go.”

Gwyn beamed. “Yay! I’ve been looking forward to this all vacation.”

“You’ve said that about all the activities,” Emerie responded, teasing just a little bit. 

“Yeah, because they’ve all been exciting,” Gwyn fired back without missing a beat. “Come on, Em! It’s Mexico.”

Nesta finished gathering her stuff, tuning out her friends joking with one another as she neatly repacked her beach bag and put on her beach slides. The three of them made their way down to the beach, sand warm under their feet and the smell of the ocean beckoning them closer as they found the people in charge of the parasailing.  

Emerie quickly stepped in to handle everything, her first language coming in handy just as it had for all the previous days of their trip. As she was talking with the employees, another group stepped into line behind them, but Nesta wasn’t paying too much attention. She was more focused on the way Emerie seemed to be getting more and more insistent, and Nesta didn’t need to understand Spanish to know that that wasn’t exactly the best sign.

Emerie turned to Nesta and Gwyn sheepishly after a few more minutes of conversation. “Uh… she’s saying the parasail only fits two people at once. Not three.”

“You’re kidding,” Gwyn replied, pouting. “I thought the guy at the hotel said we could do three people!”

“Apparently he was wrong,” Emerie said back with a heavy sigh. “So one of us is going to have to go alone, or not at all.” 

“I don’t mind not going,” Nesta responded before either of her friends could get a chance to. “I know how much you two like this kind of stuff.”

“Nesta, I don’t want to do that to you,” Gwyn protested immediately.

“We can find something else to do for all three of us,” Emerie chimed in at nearly the same time.

“No, seriously, it’s okay,” Nesta insisted. She loved her friends, but she also wasn’t exactly champing at the bit to be flying through the air alone. “I’m sure you already paid, so I can just go read by the pool. It’s really not that big of a deal.”

“Nesta, are you sure?” Gwyn asked. “Because we can just find a different activity to do. I have no problems going back inside and getting our money back.”

Before Nesta could firmly tell Gwyn that it was absolutely not a problem, someone chimed in from behind them. “Not to be totally creepy, but… maybe we can help each other out here?”

Nesta turned to see the group she hadn’t been paying attention to earlier was actually made up of the blonde woman and the brooding guy trailing along behind her that Emerie and Gwyn had been debating about earlier. What they hadn’t mentioned was the third member of their group, who had to have been one of the most attractive men Nesta had ever seen in her life. He was tall, with dark swirls of ink curling across his chest and upper arms, and his eyes were a pretty hazel color that made her want to step closer to figure out what color they really were.

“What?” Nesta said dumbly, her brain still catching up somewhat. Emerie snorted from somewhere behind her, but Nesta’s mind was too busy going !!! to fully process that.

“I’m too big to fit on a parasail with my friends anyway,” Hot Beach Guy continued. He motioned to himself with a bit of a self-deprecating grin, and Nesta had to make sure her mouth hadn’t dropped open at the sight of his thighs in his bright red swim trunks. “So if you need someone to go with, I’m your guy.”

“That’ll be perfect,” Gwyn cut in before Nesta could say something embarrassing. Not that she necessarily appreciated Gwyn making the decision for her, but at least it saved her countless sleepless nights replaying this interaction. “Nesta would love to.”

“Nesta, huh?” Hot Beach Guy said, grinning at Nesta. God, she wanted to lick her name right out of his mouth, but she needed to pull it the fuck together. Immediately. “I sure hope you can speak for yourself before we get strapped in together.”

“Of course I can speak for myself,” Nesta said back with a roll of her eyes. He was hot, but not so hot that she was rendered completely incapable of speech. “I don’t know if I want to be strapped in with a stranger.”

“I’m Cassian,” Cassian said, pointing to himself before moving onto his friends. “That’s Mor, and that’s Azriel. Stranger danger solved.”

“I wouldn’t mind a little stranger danger myself,” Emerie said under her breath. Gwyn giggled quietly, but the way Mor was staring Emerie down, Nesta didn’t think danger was going to be any sort of problem tonight. Maybe figuring out their sleeping arrangements, but they’d cross that bridge when they got to it.

“So, Nes,” Cassian continued with a waggle of his eyebrows. One of them had a scar cutting through it, and it was unfair just how much hotter it made him. “What do you say? Do you trust me?”

“You’re no Aladdin,” Nesta replied, cocking an eyebrow of her own, “but I guess you’ll do.”

Cassian laughed, and that was that. Emerie and Gwyn stayed together, as did Azriel and Mor, but somehow Nesta and Cassian ended up being the first to go on the parasail. Judging from Gwyn and Emerie’s knowing smiles, it was probably half so she wouldn’t back out at the last minute and half so they could enjoy watching Cassian shamelessly flirt with her the entire time.

Not that Nesta completely minded that last part.

Shameless flirting aside, Cassian was more than helpful in getting Nesta to the right part of the boat. Before she knew it, they were getting strapped in as the employees gave them all the standard warnings about keeping their limbs where they were supposed to. Nesta swallowed thickly, the reality of what she was doing sinking in a little bit as the employees finished doing their last rounds of safety checks. It was probably too late to back out, but it would also probably be fine. Right?

“It’ll be fine,” Cassian said suddenly, as if he’d plucked the though right out of her mind. Nesta whipped her head to the side to find him already looking at her; the way his gaze was too knowing made her want to look away, but she fought the urge to hide. His eyes were much greener up close than she’d thought. “I’ll protect you.”

“That’s reassuring,” Nesta said back with a roll of her eyes. 

“I’m pretty strong,” he replied, chuckling. “I think I could handle it.”

“Let’s hope we don’t have to find out,” she told him, surprised when he just laughed again. “What’s so funny?”

“You,” he answered without hesitation. “Something about a beautiful woman knocking me down a peg or two really gets me going.”

Nesta was saved from having to reply when the employees started counting down, and suddenly, the boat started speeding up. It felt like hardly any time at all before the parachute started filling up with air, and suddenly Nesta and Cassian’s feet were leaving the ground. Nesta released an undignified squeak that she would absolutely refuse having made if anyone asked her, her feet flailing a little bit as the ground disappeared from underneath them, and her hand shot out of its own accord to grab Cassian’s seemingly already waiting one.

“Let’s go!” Cassian yelled, clearly having the time of his life. He whooped loudly, the sound yanking Nesta out of her head just enough for her to refocus, and she blinked a few times before turning to look at him. “This is awesome!”

“I can’t believe I’m doing this!” Nesta yelled back over the sound of the wind. “What the hell! This is insane!”

“It’s just like flying,” Cassian answered, still speaking pretty loudly so they could hear each other. Nesta couldn’t help but think to herself that if this was what flying was like, she didn’t know if she wanted any parts of it ever again, but it was a fun thought.“Look how pretty the ocean is!”

She dared to look down beneath their dangling feet, her mouth falling open a little bit at how blue the water was. She hadn’t seen water this blue in a long time, other than from looking out of plane windows, but he was right – it was pretty, and even though her stomach felt a few seconds away from dropping out, she was glad that she’d gotten to see it.

“Told you so!” Cassian told her once Nesta had looked back up. He shifted his hand underneath hers so their fingers were lined up better, and it sent a little zing right up Nesta’s spine. His hands were larger than hers and much, much, warmer, and damn if it didn’t help settle something in her that she didn’t know she needed.

“Don’t get used to it!” Nesta shouted back, wishing she could’ve heard his answering laugh over the wind. 

Cassian spent the rest of the ride cheering and pointing things out for Nesta to look at, which she deeply appreciated despite half the time being a little too nervous to look away from their hands to see what he was talking about. He didn’t seem to be deterred at all; if anything, the only time he got a little deflated was when they felt a tug on the parasail as the rope started turning and bringing them back down to the boat.

Once they’d gotten unhooked from their safety harnesses and had moved back inside the boat, Cassian leaned against the nearest wall and looked down at Nesta with a playful grin. “So for our second date, do you want to do something on the ground, or…?”

“What made you think that was a first date?” Nesta asked, crossing her arms as she looked up at him.

“Holding my hand the entire time was a pretty clear sign, if you ask me,” he replied without missing a beat. 

“If that’s enough to make something a date for you, I’d hate to see what you do after a real one,” she retorted dryly, pulling a laugh from him. 

“I’d love to give you a hands-on demonstration,” he answered, still grinning. “Maybe tonight? Around 8?”

Nesta made a big show of sizing him up, from his wind-tousled curls all the way down to his surprisingly nice feet and back up again. She already knew what her answer was going to be, but she found that she thoroughly enjoyed making him squirm. “Don’t disappoint me.”

Lucky for Cassian, he didn’t.

tag list: @perseusannabeth | @bookstantrash | @fieldofdaisiies | @goddess-aelin | @c-e-d-dreamer | @talkfantasytome | @whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk | @sv0430 | @talibunny30 | @unlikelypersonalknight1 | @champanheandluxxury | @lilah-asteria | @burningsnowleopard | @sayosdreams | @readskk | @simpingfornestaarcheron | @bellaful08 | @readergalaxy | @podemechamardek | @pearlfortears | @nerdperson524 | @jmoonjones | @kale-theteaqueen | @autumnbabylon | @hiimheresworld | @illyrianshadowhunter | @dustjacketmusings | @live-the-fangirl-life | @that-little-red-head | @sweet-pea1 | @brieq | @queercontrarian | @jsmelodies | @afflicted-with-wanderlust

[late-to-the-party-81]

here’s a little challenge for you: steve + bucky + reader + one bed. make what you want of it hehe 😇 congrats on 1k, jen! <3

In the middle of the night

AN: Another day, and once again, beds appear to be in short supply. Thank you for this thot, Lyn!

Beta’d by @lfnr-blog-blog-blog, dividers by @firefly-graphics, moodboard and banner by me

Main Master list | Challenge Master list

Summary: What’s worse than sharing a motel room with the supersoldier boyfriends you have a crush on? Having to share a bed with them.

Relationship: Stucky x Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

CW: THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED, Smidge Angst, Minor miscommunication, pining, teasing, implied smut about to commence.

“Guys, I’ll just take the sofa. I’ll manage.” You weren’t sure if you were trying to convince them or yourself. It didn’t work though; Bucky just looked at you with his eyebrow raised.

“Really,doll? You might be shorter than us, but you’re not that short.”

He was right, of course. At 5ft 10 you were far too tall for most sofas let alone the one in the room of this ratty motel. 

“What do you suggest then? That we all sleep in that?” You nodded your head at it. It being the king sized bed in the middle of the room.

Steve looked up from where he was rummaging through his go bag.

“Seems like the only sensible option to me. Normally we’d offer to sleep on the floor, but…” He eyed what passed for a carpet in the room. You had to agree with him. The chances were that anything placed upon it for any length of time would be carried off by the roaches that were probably living in it. You shuddered at the thought and repressed a gag.

“Well as long as you two keep the mushy stuff to a minimum, I suppose. It’s bad enough when I’ve shared a room with you both before and you’re being all cuddly and shit. Makes a single girl sick.” This time your gag was for comedic effect.

Bucky grinned at you, and in two strides was next to you, arm slung around your shoulder, giving you a slight squeeze.

“Are you just jealous in general, or jealous of one of us, specifically. Wouldn’t blame you; we are both hot.”

“You wish!” You pulled a face and shoved him away. “Now go get a shower, Barnes. You smell of swamp.”

He pouted back, but his light blue eyes sparkled with amusement.

“Me! What about Stevie! And you, doll. We all fell in that water.”

“Yeah, but you’ve still got swamp weed in your hair.”

You reached up and plucked the offending piece of flora from his chestnut locks then, feeling impish, threw it at Steve. It landed on his shoulder, but he just turned on ‘the Captain glare’ as you and Bucky started giggling like children.

An hour later you were finishing off in the small, and frankly disgusting, bathroom. 

Bucky had used it first, scurrying in to escape Steve’s overdramatic ire and you had gone in search of food. When you got back Bucky was sitting on the edge of the bed, in his sweats and rubbing his hair dry with a threadbare towel. You threw bags full of food for your two enhanced teammates onto the coffee table.

“Cap in the shower?”

“Yeah - he won’t be too long. I’ve known that guy to have a full shower in less than 2 minutes. And after all these years, I’m still not sure how he does it.”

True to Bucky’s, Steve had stepped out just then, clad in his own sweats, short blond hair sticking up from where he’d given it a quick scrub. Gathering your own wash things and clean clothes to sleep in, you’d slipped around him, trying to ignore the loving look Bucky was throwing at his boyfriend.

Luckily there was enough hot water left for you. The boys wouldn’t have heard the end of it otherwise.

Returning to the bedroom, you mentally prepared yourself for an awful night’s sleep.It was bad enough that you were, once again, sharing a room with two men you had massive crushes on - who only had eyes for each other, this time you’d also be squished on the same bed, no doubt clinging onto the edge of the mattress and trying not to fall out.

The two supersoldiers were already lying in the bed, eyes closed, Bucky being the little spoon to Steve’s big one. They were scootched over so far that you were worried that Steve was about to drop off his side. Gingerly you climbed into the remaining space, your back to Bucky, and you switched off the small lamp they’d left on for you.

Moonlight shone through the thin curtains, casting weak shadows. You tried to relax but found yourself just staring at the strange shapes thrown on the wall in front of you. You could hear both of them breathing. 

Slow. 

Steady. 

Completely fake.

Bucky shifted behind your back, his arm brushing over your ass and hip. If he had been asleep you could have believed it to be accidental. It settled across your waist, a copy of how you imagined Steve’s was lying over his.

“Um…Buck?” You whispered out of habit. “What are you doing?”

“‘S not a lot of space, doll. We need to cosy up, so you and Stevie don’t fall out.” You could hear the smile in his voice.

“He’s also like a radiator, sweetheart. And we’ve noticed you don’t like to get cold. Just go with it.” Great. Now Steve was joining in.

“It just feels… you know… weird.” Something about the darkness was making you feel braver than you had in a while. Although that bravery started to wane slightly when Bucky shuffled even closer and you could feel his breath on the back of your neck.

“Whaddya mean ‘weird’? I think it feels nice.”

You flipped over to face him, despite the fact that there was so little light it made the gesture pointless. You were getting frustrated. Both emotionally and sexually.

“Bucky. Your boyfriend is right there, cuddling you, but apparently cuddling me is nice. And for some reason Steve is fine with it.”

The shadows behind Bucky shifted; Steve lifting his head.

“Wanna know why I’m fine with it?”

“Cos you’re secure in your and Bucky’s relationship, and you know this is just practical?”

He chuckled, low and deep, and boy did the sound do things to you. Oh, god! How keen were his senses? Would he be able to smell your arousal?

“Well, yes, but also, no…”

Before you could question him, Bucky’s arm tightened around your waist and suddenly he flipped you both, placing you in the middle of the bed, wedged between him and Steve. Your hands were pressed up against Steve’s chest, his coarse chest hairs tickling your palms. Bucky’s hand was splayed against your stomach, keeping you in place, pressed against him.

“What the hell?”

“We realised something, doll.” Bucky was practically purring in your ear. His hips pressed up against your ass and…oh!

“W-what’s that?” You could barely breathe, frozen rigid in the bed, afraid to move.

Steve wiggled down the bed in front of you, so that your hands were on his shoulders and both your faces were level.

“That you aren’t jealous of either of us when Buck and I are being affectionate. You’re jealous of both of us. You’ve got the hots for both of us.”

You scowled, hoping that despite the low light he could see your annoyance.

“So, what? You decided you’d both tease me. Thanks so much.” You shuffled violently and sat up, kicking off the last part of the coverlet. You pushed up on your knees, but Steve copied you, effectively blocking you.

“We’re not teasing you, sweetheart. Let me finish. Please.”

The bed dipped behind you; Bucky getting to his knees too. Your head was a swirl of emotions. Confusion, want, frustration, and something that might have been hope. Steve took hold of your hands, rubbing his thumbs across the backs of your knuckles.

“We’re trying to tell you… we’ve got the hots for you too.”

“Majorly,” Bucky interjected. “It’s been torture these last few months. Fighting beside you. Sharing a room. You, being so close, but not attainable.” You could feel the heat radiating off him and all you wanted to do was relax back onto his firm chest. And you wanted to believe what they were apparently telling you.

Steve tugged on your hands, pulling you closer to him.

“You can’t begin to imagine how Buck and I have been when we’ve got back to our apartment at the compound after missions with you. How we’ve been so wound up, so goddamn horny thinking about you. Thank goodness for sound-proofing. I think we’ve fucked each other seven ways from Sunday everytime.”

Bucky had moved again; regained his previous spot plastered against your back. Both his hands were settled on your waist, just above your hips. He dipped his head, and his hair brushed your neck before his lips settled just below your ear. Testing you.

“Do you want us, doll?” His lips trailed down your neck and you tilted it to bare your throat to him. Your busy mind had cleared. Now only the want remained. Bucky and Steve were pressed against you in the moonlight, surrounding you with their scent and promising you pleasure. All you had to do was answer.

“Yes!”

Tag list: @christywantspizza @jobean12-blog @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky @tuiccim @yarnforbrains @sidepartskinnyjeans @flordeamatista @krissy25 @bodeckersdiamonddoll @goldylions @wheezy-stucky @doasyoudesireandlive @chemtrails-club @seitmai @marvelstarker-mha98 @talia-rumlow

[apomaro-mellow]

Hot for Teacher(s) 18

Part 17

“You want my bite, I’ll give it to you!”, Billy shouted.

“I don’t want it anymore! I DON’T WANT YOU ANYMORE!”, Steve screamed back.

That was when Billy grabbed him and pulled at his shirt. Steve fought back, trying to push his head away but Billy’s teeth sunk into his skin. Steve’s fist met his head and knocked him back, but Steve lost his own footing and fell to the floor. That was the sight Eddie came to. The bite was on his shoulder, nowhere close to his mating gland actually, but he knew Billy wouldn’t miss his mark again if he got a chance.

Steve wasn’t able to calm Eddie before he was winding up, punching Billy square in the jaw. Billy stumbled and spit out some blood, but was grinning.

“I finally get to see the alpha that wants to take my place.”

“Put em up, douchebag, I’ve been waiting for a reason”, Eddie said, fists already up.

“You think you can take me?”, Billy taunted. 

“I’m gonna rip out your fucking throat.”

Steve was frozen, not sure if he should interrupt or not. If he left himself vulnerable, Billy would try and bite him again. And if they caused too much of a ruckus then Shawn would…His phone. It had been knocked out of his hand during the fight but if he got it, he could finish calling 911.

“COME ON!!”, Billy roared, prompting Eddie to finally lunge at him.

Steve looked around for his phone. He didn’t know how well Eddie did in a fight but he knew almost too well how Billy could hold his own. When Billy took Eddie down, Steve abandoned his search for his phone and pulled Billy off by the shoulders, then brought Eddie back to his feet.

“What kind of alpha are you that you need an omega to fight for you?”, Billy smirked.

“You fuckin’ piece of shit”, Eddie growled.

“Eddie”, Steve rubbed his back as Billy stood up, still ready for a fight, wanting for it. But all Steve did was open the door. “Just leave us alone. You’re lucky I’m not calling the cops on you.”

Just as he said that, they could hear a siren coming down the street. Steve walked out first, followed by Eddie as a cop car parked outside the house. They both looked to each other, confused, before getting eyes on Billy, standing by the open door.

“Who the fuck-”, then he turned at the barely audible sound of someone coming down the stairs.

Shawn had the house phone in his hand.

Billy’s shoulders began to shake with rage. “Tell me you didn’t call the goddamn cops on your own dad.”

“Billy don’t you touch him!”, Steve shrieked, running back for the door as Billy stalked towards the stairs.

But Billy was already there, grabbing Shawn by the arm and making him cry out in pain from the harsh grip. Steve tried to reach but Billy held him back with the other arm. Desperate, Steve spit in his face, shocking the alpha enough to get him to loosen his hold. Not wasting a moment, Steve took Shawn in his arms and sped over to the living room.

“My pup, my baby, it’s okay, you’re gonna be okay, you did great”, Steve soothed, rubbing his back.

Billy glared and that was when Eddie appeared, standing between his mate, pup and the intruder.

“Go outside”, he said firmly. He had been with the officer, stalling him long enough to convince him not to come into the house. He was glad Shawn had called the authorities, but that didn’t mean he trusted them fully. 

“Like hell I will-”

“That cop’s gonna come in here in about thirty seconds and he looks pretty trigger happy. Don’t test him”, Eddie warned.

Another car came down the street and within ten minutes, Billy was cuffed and stuffed into the back of one. Between the teeth marks on Steve, and the bruises forming on all three of them, the story was pretty obvious. Eddie did most of the talking, Steve interjecting when he needed to, but kept most of his focus on Shawn, who was still shaken. 

Putting his hands on their pup had been the one thing Billy had never done before. Steve wouldn’t forgive him for as long as he lived. Even when the failed bite on him healed and the bruise on his pup’s skin faded, Steve would never forgive him.

Eventually Billy was driven off and the house was quiet again. Steve texted Robin to let her know that Billy had come over but got arrested and she replied that she was coming over right away. 

“Are you mad at me?”, Shawn asked, voice quiet and quivering.

Steve kissed the top of his head. “Baby, you did the right thing.”

“We’re proud of you”, Eddie added. 

Shawn wiped his eyes. “Even though he’s going to jail?”

“He hurt you”, Steve said. “And he needs to be punished for it. I’m sorry I let it get this far.” He kissed Shawn’s head again and scented him, needing the comfort that his pup was safe just as much as Shawn needed it.

Robin arrived and her presence instantly brightened the mood around them. She prompted Shawn to go up and change for the day so that they could make smoothie bowls, giving Steve and Eddie time for themselves. They went up to their bedroom where Eddie tended to the bite marks so that they wouldn’t scar too badly.

There weren’t many words shared between them, letting their scents and touches do most of the talking. Knowing that whatever happened next, they’d face it as a family.

“You know this isn’t your fault, right? None of it”, Eddie said.

Steve shook his head. “I’m the one who made Billy feel like he could keep coming back. If I had been more-”

“It’s not your fault”, Eddie said. “Billy’s been an asshole since before that. And you can’t tell me otherwise, I was literally there.” Not for the first time he wondered how different their lives would have been if he had lingered that day in the hospital. “He’s never gonna hurt you again. Neither of you.”

Steve kissed him softly, then rubbed our cheeks together. “Or you.”

Eddie played it off with a gentle laugh. “Please, he barely nicked me.”

Steve rolled his eyes but played along. “My big, strong alpha.” He kissed him again, deeper this time.

“Mmm, tell me more.”

“Well, macho man, enjoy the next two days, because come Monday you’ll have to explain that shiner on your face.”

“Ooooor, I I take the day off and make a great dinner for you and Shawn when you get home~”

“Hmm”, Steve pretended to think about it.

Eddie grabbed his hand and kissed up his arm, describing the menu with each touch of his lips. “Fresh bread”, kiss, “with garlic confit”, kiss, “a fresh baked pie…” He kissed up Steve’s shoulder and met his lips.

“You drive a hard bargain, but alright. You definitely shouldn’t go into work looking like that anyway.”

Wounds began to heal and days turned into weeks as the weather began to warm. Steve had his phone facing Eddie as he came to the stage to speak. He started with welcoming the families for coming and then opened up the folder in his hands.

He remembered just two nights before, when Eddie agonized over who to give what award. Some were apparently very easy, while others hadn’t made quite the kind of splash to stand out. Thankfully there were plenty of ways to say ‘they were a good student’ without getting specific. There were quite a few going home with simply a citizenship award.

“I would like to award Shawn Harrington with excellence in math, reading, spelling, science, as well as outstanding citizenship.”

Steve shouted out for Shawn and he may be biased but Eddie looked a little more personally proud while watching their pup walk up and accept his awards. Eddie read the rest of the names and the ceremony continued with second, third, and fourth grade. When it ended, parents moved around the auditorium, congratulating their children and getting pictures of the occasion. 

Eddie was posing for one such photo with a group of boys and once it was taken, he made a beeline for Steve, kissing him squarely on the lips in the crowd, as if daring anyone to say anything. 

“Where’s Shawn?”, Eddie asked, looking around.

“Why Mr. Munson, are you saying you’ve lost my child?”, Steve gasped, bringing his hand to his mouth.

“Nope! Found him!”, Eddie pointed to Shawn posing for a picture with a classmate.

After the flash, he grabbed his friend’s hand and pulled him over. “Dad! Dad! Brian and I are planning a sleepover!”

“Oh are you?”, Steve grinned.

“What’s that?”, Brian asked, poking the small bulge of Steve’s stomach, causing him to jump a little at the random poke.

“Hey!”, Shawn exclaimed. “Careful, my baby sister’s in there.” He hugged Steve around the waist.

“Oh, you’re having a girl?”, Brian’s mother appeared.

“We’re not sure yet”, Steve said as Eddie’s arm came around him. “But Shawn’s pretty sure of it.” He had been saying that he was getting a little sister ever since they confirmed Steve’s pregnancy. Shawn had already started throwing out girl’s names, he was that confident. And Steve was tempted to at least give him middle name privilege. 

The only thing he was unsure of was the gender of their pup, they were keeping it a surprise for now. But everything else in his life, his alpha, his love, his son, his whole life - he was entirely certain. 

Eddie had been happy back at the beginning of the school year. His life had been going fine. But now he was literally walking on clouds and it was all thanks to the two angels (soon to be three) that came into his classroom.

END (Epilogue)

Whew! Thank yall for joining me on this one! Hopefully I'll see you on the next!

Taglist

@anne-bennett-cosplayer @aol19 @lololol-1234 @gregre369 @attic-cat-blog

@hippieg1rl420 @spectrum-spectre @a-lovely-craziness @sharingisntkaren

[writingshushf1]

Ooo mick bc I cant find smuts abt him

Bereal

Summary:  the app goes off and mick has an idea.

Rating: +18

Warnings: shameless smut, p!rn with a little bit of plot, shibari/restraining, unprotected (wrap it before you tap it!!!)

Word count: 0.6k

Note: god. this is the filthiest thing i've ever written.

masterlist

The room was hot, Mick had a wicked grin on his face, holding the ropes that were tied against your body. 

Right after you started your makeout session, he said he wanted to try something new he heard the boys commenting, because of it, the German searched about and bought what needed, now wanting to try it out - he loved to experiment new things, so did you. After a few minutes, he made a star harness with arms shibari, it was not just beautiful, but restrained your movements as well, so he could take more liberty on controlling you.

You had your face against the mattress, while Schumacher thrusted hard inside of you, earning loud whimpers out of your mouth, he was loving every single minute of it. He held the piece of rope that restrained your arms, while the other travelled between your hips to slap your ass harshly, leaving you to whine louder.

If you weren’t already a mess from having him inside of you, the blonde started to kiss your neck, nibbling and giving big hickeys around it, slowly making them go closer to your breasts - avoid getting into the rope, of course, he didn’t want to ruin his beautiful work. When you weren’t looking, he grabbed a bullet vibrator and put it against your core, making you chant his name over and over again.

Out of nowhere, the sound of bereal rang from the driver's mobile phone, which made you two look at each other for a few seconds. He scrunched up his eyebrows, picking up the phone.

“Can I?”

“Just don’t show my tits or any of those parts.”

“I wouldn’t want to, they’re mine and only for me. No one needs to see it.” His face got closer to yours. “Because you’re mine, baby… And I would be very jealous if someone got to see you like that.” 

You whimpered with his words, at first, he took a selfie, his face reddened by the heat and if you paid attention very closely, your legs appeared on the back of the picture, who were also tied up. Then, you let him hold your face to the side and show all the bruises on your neck and a part of your naked torso with the rope being very evident - of course, not showing your breasts. He turned off his phone, looking at you again.

“Such a beautiful good girl, letting me show off how good I take care of you.” He muttered, starting to thrust again in an agonising slow pace.

You were getting closer and closer to an orgasm and he kept provoking you, making you get into the edge of it, then slowing down at once so you would never get into your climax.

“Mick… Please.”

“What, baby?”

“I’ve been such a good girl… Please, let me cum.”

“Oh. Do you think so?”

You went quiet, looking at him while holding the most obscene moans. Schumacher chuckled, slapping your thigh and going again at a painful speed - now painfully fast, knowing that after that, it would be very hard to walk.

When you came, your walls squeezed him inside, making him cum too, screaming your name multiple times while he finished inside of you.

After this mind blowing sex, you two were laying together, cuddling naked on the bed when Mick grabbed his phone, seeing multiple notifications from bereal and his friend group chat. As he read the reactions of his friends - many shocked that he was into that sort of thing, the German showed you and you both laughed together at how their friends believed him to be an innocent person.

[daisynik7]

Out of Time Nanami x f!reader

Part Two out now!

Rating: Explicit (because of part two)

Word Count: ~5.7k

Summary: Two nights before your thesis is due, you decide to take a break at your favorite bar. Meanwhile, Nanami, after a week’s worth of exhausting missions, is desperate for a drink. By chance, the two of you meet and spend an unforgettable night with each other that ends just a little too soon. cw: language, drinking, kissing, suggestive touching, switching POVs (reader is in second person, Nanami is in third), eventual smut, original female character (Gina). Author's Notes: Inspired by The Weeknd's Out of Time music video, because I think Nanami + karaoke is always a fun idea! This is part one of a two-part series. Reader is in grad school, mid-twenties, Nanami is around the same age. Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are always appreciated, thanks for reading! Divider credits to @/cafekitsune.

With your final statement typed out on page forty of your thesis, you save it, shutting your laptop closed and immediately groaning into your hands. All that’s left is to proofread, cite your sources, and you’ll be ready to submit. Finally. 

It’s been a six-month long journey, and at last, you’re seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. In two days, you’ll be rid of the dreaded thesis statement, and in two weeks, you’ll be the proud recipient of a master’s degree. Two years of the most rigorous academic challenge you’ve ever faced in your life, sealed with a piece of paper that you might not even benefit from in the future. This still calls for some celebration, right?

After another minute of grumbling, you take your phone out to text your best friend Gina, who should be off her shift by now. 

You: I need a fucking drink.

Gina: highballs at Kanpai?

You: YES

Gina: I’ll pick you up in 15

The Kanpai Cocktail Bar is your favorite downtown. That’s where you first met Gina, who was a bartender there at the time. After she left to work for another establishment, the two of you still frequent Kanpai, the perfect spot for tasty drinks and entertainment, mainly in the form of people-watching. 

However, this past semester, your trips there have lessened significantly, too preoccupied with this goddamn thesis. You need a well-deserved break, something to fuel you for the next two days before you click submit. 

You quickly get ready, throwing on a blouse and a pair of jeans. Once you receive Gina’s text, stating her arrival, you swing a tiny purse over your shoulder and head outside, greeting her with a hug. 

“Did you finish your thesis?” she asks, linking arms with you, starting the walk to the train station. 

“For the most part.”

“Good. We can get drunk tonight,” she says, a devious grin on her face.

“Not too drunk, I still have some work to do. I just need to take the edge off.”

“Fine. We’ll get buzzed, maybe find some cute guys to dance with, and call it a night. Deal?”

“Deal,” you agree, unsure about the cute guys part. It’s been a while since you last danced with, or even encountered, a man. With your priority being this paper, you haven’t had time to date or hook up with anyone. You predict that tonight will be no different. 

Five stops and you’re downtown, strolling towards Kanpai, which is already packed. Luckily, you find a table and flag a waiter down to place your order. Minutes later, they deliver the first round of cocktails and a plate of fried chicken karaage. You and Gina cheers, feeling relaxed for the first time in months. Halfway through your drink, you notice Gina eyeing something, or someone, in the distance. 

“What are you staring at?”

“There’s this really hot guy at the bar. Like, really hot. I’ve never seen anyone like him before.”

You turn to the direction she’s looking at, immediately knowing who she’s referring to. He’s tall, well-built, with strikingly white hair, almost blinding in the dim lighting of the room. The most intriguing thing about him is the black blindfold around his eyes, and a naughty smirk on his face. Leave it to Gina to spot an attractive man instantly; she’s always had excellent radar for that.

“I’m going to invite him to our table,” she announces, sliding out of her chair to stand up.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. He’s hot. And we have space.”

She’s right; there’s two empty chairs, one beside the both of you. There’s no reason why she shouldn’t invite him, so you don’t question it any further, watching from your peripheral as she heads towards the bar, leaving you momentarily alone to sip on your highball. 

You’re almost completely finished with your cocktail when you hear the distinct click of Gina’s heel’s approaching. Craning your neck to face them, you’re surprised to find not two people, but three, standing next to the table. Another man, a tad shorter, similarly well-built, blonde hair, and dressed in a tan business suit. His eyes are also covered with spectacles that resemble steampunk glasses. The spotted tie he wears is interesting, adding a splash of pizazz to the otherwise normal outfit. 

You greet them, introducing yourself. Gojo, the one with white hair, happily shakes your hand while his friend, Nanami, maintains a stern expression. They take their seats in the chairs next to you and Gina, Gojo on her side, Nanami on yours. 

“Should we order another round of drinks?” Gina suggests, glancing around to catch the waiter. 

“Sure! But I’ll have a Shirley Temple. I don’t drink alcohol.”

“You’re at a bar, but you don’t drink?”

“I don’t; he does,” he answers, pointing his thumb across at Nanami. He simply grunts in response.

“What’s your drink of choice?” you ask, tilting your head to face him.

“Sake,” he states, focused on the center of the table avoiding anyone’s gaze. He’s cold, standoffish, and stoic. The type of person you’d typically avoid. 

“Should we order sake then?” Gina suggests. “And a mocktail for you, Gojo,” she adds, nudging him flirtatiously. 

“I’ll have a little bit,” you say. “I have to finish my thesis, remember?”

“Are you a student?” Gojo inquires, leaning forward, elbows propped up, chin in his palms.

“Grad student. I’m almost done, thankfully.”

“Good for you! This round will be on us then, right Nanamin?” 

He shrugs silently, gaze unmoving. What an odd fellow. He’s showing absolutely no interest in socializing, which you don’t entirely blame him for. Maybe he was dragged here beyond his own will. He’s opposite of Gojo, who oozes charisma from every crevice. You can’t expect him to match that type of chaotic energy. 

Gojo fetches the waiter, ordering sake and his virgin drink. Him and Gina chat amongst themselves, no doubt flirting excessively. You sit next to Nanami in silence, slurping on whatever liquid remains in your glass, basically water from the melting ice. You want to pull your phone out to have something to distract you, but your neighbor continues to stare at the table, frozen in place, not speaking. Hands tucked neatly in front of him. 

You attempt small talk once more, gradually losing hope that this will lead anywhere. “What do you do for work, Nanami?”

“I’m a salaryman.”

“Is Gojo a salaryman, too?”

“No.”

“How do you two know each other?”

“From high school.”

“Neat.” You glance around the room, wishing the alcohol would arrive sooner. His answers are curt, as if you’re pestering him. Even behind the steampunk glasses, you can tell he’s uncomfortable. He clearly doesn’t want to be here. 

You tune out whatever Gina and Gojo are discussing, not wanting to eavesdrop on their privacy, remaining silent as you twiddle your thumbs beneath the table. The drinks arrive, which you’re ecstatic about. Gojo smiles as he sips on his mocktail. Gina does the honors and pours the cold sake into each small glass, passing it to you and Nanami. With a cheers, you each down your shots, refreshing and bitter down your throat. 

“So, do you ladies have any single friends you can set Nanamin up with?” Gojo asks. 

Beside you, Nanami tenses up. “Gojo, I don’t want –”

“Don’t worry, buddy! We’ll find you a nice girl! Nanamin here is so shy, poor guy needs a lot of help when it comes to the ladies – ”

“Gojo,” he warns, sterner this time, Gina unable to contain her giggling. 

“He’s an attractive guy, right? If it weren’t for the stick up his ass, he’d for sure be a catch.” Gojo smirks, finishing the rest of his drink. 

Gina elbows him, grinning. “Don’t be so mean to your friend. Not everyone has to be in a relationship. She’s never been in one and she’s totally fine.” She points at you, much to your dismay. 

You’re reminded how loose Gina’s lips get whenever she indulges in alcohol. While it’s nothing to be ashamed about, you still feel heat rush into your cheeks from embarrassment, having a personal fact about yourself revealed so casually in front of two strangers. “I’ve never had time for a relationship,” you explain. “Been too busy with school.”

“Oh, don’t get me wrong, there’s nothing wrong with being single! I’m just trying to help this poor guy out, he’s always complaining to me how lonely he is, but he never puts himself out there!”

The table rattles suddenly and Gojo yelps. “Ouch! Okay, okay, I’ll stop.” Nanami has his arms crossed tight over his chest, foot flat on the floor after kicking his friend in the shin. 

Rubbing his leg, Gojo changes the subject, talking about his latest travels somewhere, to which Gina is absolutely enthralled by. You listen passively, swirling your fingers around the ring of the glass. It’s getting late and you should head back to your apartment soon, knowing your thesis is stuck in your laptop, waiting to be submitted. You don’t want to leave until Gina is done working her magic on her new friend, so you wait, not bothering to converse with the guy next to you. He seems equally as unenthused as you do, now tapping one of his feet impatiently. 

Gojo eventually calls the waiter to pay the bill. After giving him your thanks, the four of you walk out of the bar together, ready to say your farewells. Or so you think. Once outside, Gojo and Gina look at you with guilt on their faces. You’ve known your friend long enough to predict where this is going. 

“So, Gojo and I are actually going to hang out a bit longer.”

He wraps his arm around her shoulders, smirking. “Yeah, Nanami and I have a room at the hotel across the street. I want to give Gina an exclusive tour. We should be done in about an hour or so.”

Nanami makes a strangled noise in his throat, clearly distraught. He can’t formulate a sentence, so you do it instead. “What are you really trying to tell us?”

“Well,” Gina starts. “We thought that since the two of us are hanging out, then the two of you can hang out somewhere else. Just until we’re done. With the tour.”

You roll your eyes, annoyed by the euphemisms, more irritated by the fact that you’re being temporarily stranded out here with someone who wants nothing to do with you.

“Please keep my dear friend company. I promise, we won’t take too long. But definitely not too short either,” he adds under his breath, him and Gina giggling like naughty schoolchildren. 

Nanami is still stunned, probably shocked that his friend would dump him like this. Before he can formulate a response, Gojo and Gina turn their backs, walking in the direction of the hotel. “Have fun! I know we will! We’ll call you when we’re done!” Gojo yells out, waving. Gina blows you a kiss before holding hands with him, leaving you two dumbfounded.

You stand beside Nanami in silence, unsure where to go from here. You’re familiar with this location, and you know there is plenty to do at this hour. But you have no clue what this guy likes. Does he like anything?

Clearing your throat, you say, “Well, I guess we have to kill time somewhere.”

He does the same, coughing into his forearm. “I suppose we have no choice.” 

“There’s a nearby bakery that’s always open late. Do you want to check that out?”

Focused on his shoes, he shrugs. That’s a good enough answer for you. 

You start heading down the familiar street, the shop being only two blocks away from the bar. The two of you walk in silence, Nanami trailing behind you, arms swinging slightly at his sides while you have your hands placed in your pockets. When you arrive to the bakery, you notice one of the workers you’re acquainted with, Susie, waving from the counter. You return her greeting with a warm smile.

Nanami seems intrigued, browsing through the assortment of baked goods. He reads each label carefully, head moving up, down, side to side, inspecting each pastry intently. “Their bread is amazing here,” you comment. “Perfect for sandwiches.”

He hums in response, leaning closer to the loaves of sourdough on display. This is the first you’ve seen him with a more relaxed expression on his face. Without the scowl, he actually seems friendly and approachable.

“The croissants are also really good. My favorites are chocolate and almond,” you suggest, pointing through the glass. 

To your surprise, Nanami ends up buying the chocolate one, per your recommendation. Susie, always a cheery smile plastered on her face, rings him up. She eyes you playfully, brow raised, but doesn’t say anything. When it’s your turn, you order two hot coffees, a spur of the moment decision. You have no idea how long you’re going to be stranded out here, so a nice pick-me-up wouldn’t hurt. You explain, “Coffee and croissants go perfectly together, don’t you think?” He looks at you, confused, then shrugs, walking away to find an empty table. 

Susie passes you the coffees, as well as creamer and a few packs of sugar. “Hot date tonight?” she asks quietly, a sly smirk on her face.

“No. We’re just stuck together for the next hour or so.”

“Well, I wouldn’t mind being stuck with a fine man like that,” she winks. “Have fun the rest of the night. Also, here.” She opens a small brown bag and sneaks an almond croissant inside. “On the house. You both should enjoy a tasty treat together.” She gathers all of your goods on a tray and slides it towards you, grinning. 

Nanami is seated in a corner of the shop, hands placed neatly on the surface, one on top of the other. When you arrive, you set the tray down, sitting in the chair across from him. “Here’s some cream and sugar for your coffee, in case you want any.”

He nods in acknowledgment, removing the lid to pour in two creams, two sugars. You do the same. He remains silent, brows in a tight knit, concentrating on stirring his coffee. It’s almost endearing the way he’s so focused on the most mundane tasks. Grabbing a napkin, you take your croissant out, ready to bite into it. Before you do, you offer, “Would you like to try some of this?”

Behind his specs, you can see surprise in his expression. He clears his throat, muttering, “Sure.” He takes his chocolate croissant out and begins to tear it in half. “We can split both of them and share.”

You grin. “Good idea.” His lips twitch, as if he wants to smile. 

You trade halves, first taking a bite into the chocolate before sipping on your coffee. You let out a satisfied, “Yum!”

This time, there’s no mistaking it; he does smile. “That’s a good sign,” he comments.

“I’ve had this plenty of times, but it’s always so good.”

He removes his glasses and folds them neatly into his breast pocket. You have a clear view of his eyes now, which are much kinder than you expect. He takes a bite, then smirks, wiping the corner of his mouth with a napkin. 

“Well?”

“You’re right. This is definitely deserving of a yum.” The corner of his eyes crinkle. It feels like you’re finally getting through to him.

“See? I told you it’s good!” you say, moving to the almond croissant.

“If I knew you wanted one, I would have bought both of them for us.”

“Susie actually gave this to me on the house, so it all worked out.”

With a brow raised, he asks, “Do people usually give you delicious pastries for free?”

You laugh. “Ha, I wish. Just here. We’re friends.”

“That must be nice.” He nibbles on the rest of it, sips of coffee in between. 

“Why are you talking to me all of a sudden?” Maybe it’s the sudden rush of caffeine surging through your body that makes you decide to be bold and ask him straight up.

He’s caught off guard by your bluntness, clearing his throat nervously. “I wasn’t really in the mood to be social earlier this evening.”

“But you are now?” You rest your elbow on the table, hand tucked under your chin, studying him. 

He chuckles softly, wiping the other corner of his mouth with a new napkin. “I guess so. The croissants and coffee help.”

“So the way to your heart is through your stomach? Good to know,” you tease him, smirking.

“Is that something you’re interested in? Winning my heart?” He gives you a small grin as he meets your gaze. 

There’s a flutter in your belly, a skip in your heartbeat. It’s obvious he’s an attractive man; you were focused so much on his off-putting demeanor, you didn’t really think about it until now. Cheeks warm, you respond, “I’m trying to get to know you. We’re stuck with each other for tonight, might as well be friends.”

He nods, agreeing. It’s one night. All you’re doing is killing time together while you wait for your friends to finish their little rendezvous. The chances of ever seeing each other again after this are unlikely. Might as well make the most out of it.

The two of your finish your pastries in a comfortable silence. Only half an hour passes, and still no word from either of your friends. Suddenly, you remember that on Friday nights, street food vendors set up shop down the block from your current location. “Nanami, do you like street food?”

He meets your eyes again, smiling. “Absolutely.”

~~~

Nanami was desperate for a drink tonight. 

Him and Gojo are out of town, having completed a strenuous week of exorcising curses from several areas of this city. All he wanted was to consume alcohol, enough to get a good buzz going, then eat a late-night snack before heading to bed. He didn’t expect to find himself at a street food festival with a total stranger, having been rudely abandoned by Gojo. Though, he doesn’t mind his current situation. Anything involving food is something he always delights in. And the company isn’t so bad either. She’s actually quite nice. 

Nanami doesn’t like opening up to people. Ever since he went back into Jujutsu Sorcery, he made a promise to himself to never date, not wanting to subject any potential spouses to the horrors of the world he lives in. He keeps himself closed off on purpose, especially to strangers. It’s easier this way. Sure, it comes off rude and cold. And maybe he does get a bit lonely at times. It’s for the best; that’s how he justifies it. 

Yet, somehow, this woman is slipping through the cracks. He finds himself enjoying his time with her as they stroll through the street of food vendors, selling all types of delicacies: meat skewers, noodles, varieties of desserts. They even share a serving of Takoyaki because what kind of street food outing is it without a taste of that? 

They casually exchange bits and pieces about each other: hobbies, interests, favorite foods, the standard. Nanami has to remain especially cryptic about his real profession, a complicated topic to explain to normal civilians. Besides that, their conversations feel natural. Effortless. There’s no need to be closed off, considering they’re doing this for the time-being, until their two friends finish whatever fling they’re partaking in at the hotel. Their time together will end soon, going back to being strangers, never seeing each other again. Maybe that’s why he’s loosened up; all of this will be over as soon as it began. 

After having walked through the vendors once more, they rest at a table off to the side. Nanami finishes off the last piece before tossing the little tray into the trash can. He hasn’t checked his watch since they arrived, occupied with food, and chatting. It’s been about an hour and a half now, still no peep from either Gojo or Gina, though he isn’t anxiously waiting to hear from them. He tries thinking of something else they can do, besides sit here, and watch the clock. 

Before he can start suggesting ideas, she beats him to it. “Nanami, do you like karaoke?”

Again, he smiles at her, similar to earlier at the bakery. Chest swelling with an odd, but pleasant sensation. “Absolutely.”

Minutes later, they’re in a small private room at a karaoke bar, ordering a round of cold sake before the singing starts. She volunteers to go first, choosing a well-known pop hit, not at all embarrassed to belt out any high notes. Her voice isn’t bad, enough to carry a tune and to make Nanami, who is as tone-deaf as they come, not feel ashamed about singing in front of her. Halfway through the song, the sake arrives, and he pours it into the two cups, waiting for her performance to be over before passing her the glass. They cheers, then throw it back. She hands him the mic, teasing, “I expect a breathtaking performance.”

“Prepare yourself for disappointment, then,” he smirks, entering the number on the remote. He picks another popular song, one that he always like to start off with whenever he’s doing karaoke with Gojo and Shoko. In fact, he can’t remember doing karaoke with anyone besides his close friends. This is definitely the first in a while; he doesn’t feel as shy as he thought he would. The strobe lights in the dim space create an atmosphere where Nanami isn’t embarrassed to put on a show. He removes his coat and loosens his tie, to which she whistles playfully at him, causing him to laugh. “Don’t encourage me.”

“Oh I absolutely will encourage you,” she responds, leaning forward for a better view. “I’m so ready for this.”

Maybe it’s the alcohol taking its effect, though it wasn’t much. Or maybe he’s genuinely having a good time. Whatever it is, as soon as the melody kicks, he swings his hips to the beat, barely bothering to read the lyrics on the screen because he already has them memorized. From behind, he hears her clapping to the rhythm, giggling and singing along quietly, hollering when he nails a particularly hard note. 

The marathon continues, sake flowing into their mouths between songs until the bottle is empty and they’re both on their feet, dancing to the music. Mics in hand, they serenade each other, swaying to the upbeat tempo, smiles open wide with glee. Nanami tosses his tie to the couch, unbuttoning his shirt a quarter of the way down, sweat beading on his forehead, body hot from his buzz and merriment. Their playlist ranges from ballads, alternative rock, R&B, even a few classic Disney hits Nanami secretly likes to indulge in. At some point, Nanami offers his hand to twirl her, not letting go as he swings his arms with hers, grooving to the beat. Their fingers interlock, fitted to each other naturally. There’s no second guessing or doubts in his head that he wants to do this with her. It just feels right.

A worker comes in with a cold pitcher of water, informing them they have five more minutes left of their hour. Nanami is surprised how fast that hour flew. He swears they still had more time left. He can’t help feeling disappointed that it’s over; he still had more songs he wanted to sing before the night ended. 

He notices her checking her phone, probably waiting for that text from Gina, hoping that whatever this is ends soon. There’s a tightness in Nanami’s throat, and not from all the singing. He hasn’t bothered to check his phone the entire time they were here, hoping not to see any type of message from Gojo. He realizes in this moment that he doesn’t want this night to end. 

To his surprise, she sets her phone back down on the table, attention at the worker. “Can we book another hour?”

For the third time tonight, Nanami can’t contain his smile.

~~~

To say you’re surprised by this recent development is an understatement. You’re actually shocked that this is the same man you attempted small talk with just a hours earlier, only to be treated with the cold shoulder. Now, he’s spinning you around this small room, disco lights twinkling in each other’s eyes, laughing, carefree and happy. It’s contagious, and you have no choice but to join in on the fun. 

It’s not until there’s five minutes left of your reservation that you remember the reason you’re here in the first place. Checking your phone for any updates from Gina, you almost audibly breathe a sigh of relief, seeing no new messages. On a whim, you request another hour, not wanting this to end yet. You wonder if he feels the same way.

Halfway through your second hour, the two of you finally take a break, letting the preloaded list of songs you selected play in the background. You sit beside each other, closer than you’ve been all night, thighs touching, body heat radiating. From your peripheral, you observe him, watching his throat bob with each gulp of ice-cold water he takes, emptying the remnants into his mouth. Before he catches you, you look away, sipping on your own drink, suddenly nervous to be so near him, despite dancing with him the past hour and a half. 

He chuckles softly. “This was really fun.”

You turn to face him. “It was. You’re quite the performer.”

“I could say the same about you.” He stretches his arm behind you, setting it on the couch. The rolled-up sleeves of his polo graze your neck, making you more flustered. You remind yourself that this is totally normal, not a flirtatious response or anything. Just a guy casually resting his arm behind you, no big deal. 

“I feel like I’m going to lose my voice. But it was worth it,” he mentions. 

You face him again, beaming brightly. There’s an expression on his face you haven’t seen all night, as if he’s getting a proper look at you, studying you like he hasn’t seen you clearly until now. 

“Totally worth it,” you reply. Before you know it, you blurt out, “I don’t want this to end yet.”

At this, he blinks a few times, startled by your statement. “Really?”

You giggle, leaning closer to nudge his arm. “Yeah. Really.”

In an instant, your lips meet, mouths still cool from the ice water. He kisses you gently, both hesitant and sure of himself. He breaks away to ask, “Is this okay?”

You nod, sliding your hands to his nape to close the distance again. His arm slips behind your waist, hand gripped loosely on your hip, pulling you in, kisses getting sloppier. Tongues pushing past lips to swirl around each other. 

You can blame this hasty decision on the alcohol, but that wouldn’t be accurate. You’re tipsy at best, and you would bet money that he’s in the same state as you. This isn’t fueled by sake or by the sappy love song playing in the background. This is pure, unadulterated passion, building up the moment you shared those croissants together in that bakery. 

You giggle into his mouth as you swing your leg over his lap to straddle him. He has both hands on your waist now, peering at you with a naughty expression. “What can you possibly be giggling about right now?”

“I was just thinking about how I was right earlier. The way to your heart is through your stomach. Admit it; you fell for me as soon as I split my croissant with you.”

He pulls you in closer, nuzzling his nose against yours. “Okay, I admit it. You won my heart.”

His grip is tight on you, guiding your hips back and forth on his lap, his lips scattering delicate kisses along your neck, your hands messing up his hair as you run your fingers through it. There’s not enough time to process that this is actually happening. All you want is to feel him on every inch of your skin. His palms glide underneath your blouse, reaching for your bra, squeezing at your breasts. With his mouth now hot on your ear, he whispers, “I want you.”

You’re not thinking properly when you grab the hem of your shirt to hoist it off your body. Before you strip, there’s loud knocking on the door, startling the both of you. 

“We know what you’re doing in there!” a voice yells from the other side. “Cut it out before we call the police!”

Immediately, you remove yourself from him, unsuccessfully ignoring the obvious bulge in his pants. He’s reluctant to take his hands of you, giving your tits another loving fondle before relenting, taking a few deep breaths to calm himself. Quickly gathering your belongings, you head towards the door, ready to do the walk of shame. Before you turn the handle, Nanami spins you around, kissing you once more. You melt into his mouth, fists bunching his dress shirt, his heart pounding through his chest. If it weren’t for the threat of the cops being called, you’re certain the two of you would go at it right here in this karaoke room. 

Another angry rap on the door snaps you both back to reality. You slowly exit the room, staring at the tile floor, avoiding eye contact with the disgruntled worker, crossing their arms at you. You pay for the room, then walk outside into the brisk night air. Nanami holds your hand, fingers entwined seamlessly, a perfect fit. 

Despite having spent the last few hours with him, it feels like the beginning of the night. You lean in to kiss him once more, craving his mouth on yours. He places his coat over your shoulders, surrounding you in a snug embrace, resting his chin on the top of your head. You stay like this for what seems like forever until it’s not enough, your phone vibrating in your purse, his ringing in his pocket. Gina’s name is displayed on your screen, and Gojo’s on his. That’s your cue; the final scene of the night. 

The two of you take your time walking back towards where your little adventure first started, holding hands like a couple familiar with each other. At the end of the day, you’re still strangers, one night not enough to establish a relationship. You’re certain neither of you wants this to end, not with the way he touches you, the way he gazes at you. There’s no doubt something’s there. The both of you are cowards, too afraid to admit these intense feelings to someone you hardly know. It’s easier to enjoy it in the moment, letting it fizzle out as midnight approaches, leaving it behind as a fond memory. 

That’s the problem, though. In the short amount of time you’ve spent with him, you’re already sure that you want to make more memories with him. 

In the distance, you spot Gina and Gojo, standing outside the bar, chatting as they await your return. You’re about to call out to them, but Nanami tugs you into the nearest alley, your cheeks between his palms, kissing you deeply. His thumb grazes your skin tenderly, sending a shiver down your spine. He pulls off, breathing staggered, forehead pressed against yours. 

You don’t want to say goodbye; this is what it is, right? Back to the real world. You have a thesis due in less than forty-eight hours, one that you forgot about until now, and Nanami is from out of town, soon to be back to his own life, which doesn’t include you. That’s just the way it is. 

Without a word, you shrug his coat off your shoulders, handing it to him with a gentle smile. He stares at you, wary, accepting it anyways in his hands, hanging it on his forearm neatly. He reaches for your hand, leading you back to the pathway under the streetlights, letting go as soon as you approach your friends.

Seeing you, Gojo yells out, “Hey!”

Gina waves, hair slightly disheveled, a satisfied grin on her face. Gojo asks, “So, did you two have fun tonight? I know we did.” Gina snorts, kicking him lightly at his ankle. 

Nanami clears his throat. “Yes. We had fun.”

Surprised, Gojo replies, “Really? Nanamin actually had fun? I’m in awe!”

Gina looks at you. “Did you have fun?”

“Yes. I had a lot of fun,” you answer. You turn to face Nanami, giving him one last smile. He returns it, nodding slightly. This really is the end of it. 

Your friend links arms with you, announcing, “Well, we should head home now! This girl still has a thesis to finish.” With that, Gina steers you in the direction of train station, waving farewell to the two men. 

~~~

Nanami begrudgingly follows Gojo back to the hotel room. He gives his friend an abridged version of tonight’s festivities, to which Gojo seems thrilled about on his behalf. “You had almost as exciting of a night as I did! Almost. That Gina is a real firecracker.”

He sits at the end of his bed, only now realizing they didn’t even exchange contact info. In the heat of the moment, it didn’t cross his mind, too focused on her soft lips and gentle touch. He leans forward, burying his face in his palms, groaning. “I forgot to ask for her number.”

Gojo chuckles, patting his shoulder. “How can you forget that?”

“Everything happened so fast. We ran out of time.” 

The realization of it hits him hard. This can’t be it; there’s no way it can be. He won’t accept that this is the end of them, not after what happened. He’ll do whatever it takes to see her again. Fuck the vow he made to not date; whatever this is, it’s worth it.

“I don’t know what to do,” Nanami muffles through his hands, defeated.

Gojo sits beside him, massaging his shoulders, something Nanami usually hates, too distressed to shove him away. “Well, my dear friend, lucky for you, I have Gina’s number.” 

At this, Nanami turns to his friend, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. 

With a cocky smirk, Gojo says, “Let’s go get your girl.”

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Tagging @liliorsstuff-blog, another fic of our husband, hope you like it!

Stay tuned for part two!