#we never reported this since we did complete it

[dualnaturedscientist]

Tristan seemed to be surprised by this. He knew that Carl had a stepbrother named Thomas. He also knew all about Thomas and the way he reacted when he became Dr.Two-Brains. That man was honestly so on very thin ice for making his spouse feel like he did. "You're his older brother? We had no idea he had any other siblings." Bailey began to fidget with his hands. "I... am aware of that. Yes. I hadn't realized that I had a younger brother until recently myself. Carl was standing a few feet away from the door, listening in. He was just as confused by this. If he was going to be completely honest. He was only told of his one sibling Thomas. And that was his stepbrother. "I see. Do you want to speak with him? Perhaps another time..." Carl felt like they shouldn't turn him away. "I will be able to talk with him. You and Gene can plan out what you need to do. It's alright. I'll speak with him outside while giving you two privacy." Gene was also feeling protective over his father. Yet from where he stood, Bailey didn't pose much of a threat. If anything, it seemed Carl would easily be able to handle himself against him. "Very well. Please call us if you have any trouble." Tristan moved out of the way, allowing Carl to walk through the door. Leaving the former mad scientist and Tristan to their conversation. "You say that you're my older brother. How do I know that you're telling the truth." Bailey frowned. It wasn't disappointment from Carl not believing him but courage leaving him. "I know it sounds strange, I truly do. But I know you are my younger brother. We share very similar facial features. When I saw you, I just knew that we were family. I had come looking for you in hopes of us meeting. You see, I never got to truly meet my birth family. I was given hope of meeting one of them when I saw you on the news." Carl might have not been a lie detector, but he knew that this man wasn't lying to him at all. It seemed he didn't dare to try. "Very well. We can speak. I can see what you are referring to. We do have very similar facial features. Genetic features." At the library, Matthew's thoughts were racing. He wanted to chase after that blasted woman, but if Matthew were to do that, Miss Dewey wouldn't be very happy with that. She would have to report his sudden leaving to Margaret Fuller, and he didn't want to deal with her during such a time. He had to let Evangeline free. Unaware that he wasn't the only one wondering about her whereabouts. "Who was that?" Frank seemed concerned. "It's... very complicated. I can't go after her because of my probation, unfortunately. I had known her for a long time." This answer seemed to have appeased him. "Oh, I hope she will be fine. Hey, on the bright side. I happened to pick you up some snacks as well. Since you seemed occupied. And since we're going to be working buddies." Matthew gave him an appreciative smile. "Oh, thank you.” Though at the back of his mind. He couldn't shake the expression of confusion on Evangeline's face. Why was she so disoriented? Why was she young, alive? After work, Matthew was going to tell Carl about this. Perhaps not Gene though. He wasn't going to pile his problems into his son's own. He already did so unfortunately. Back at the house. “My love. I can't sit back anymore. Please. I have another solution, to ease your mind. Why don't I wear a tracking device of your own creation? This will ease your mind. Knowing where I am if I were to disappear. Don't you have anything of the sort already set to be used?” Gene's eyes widened at that. Why didn't he think of it? “Tristan, you're brilliant!” Finally they were on the same page. “If I'm taken, you'll be able to find me and send help. If I'm not taken by this being, we'll be able to track down my brother and our spouse. Either way we'll be able to get them back. I promise, my love.” Gene was quiet for a moment before embracing the other. “If things go wrong, I hope you know you'll be sleeping on the couch. Fine then. I want them back just as much as you do.” Tristan gave him a reassuring squeeze. “As you wish.”

@ninjastormhawkkat

"Hold on a minute, some weird guy is staring at me. Probably some bum trying to get change off of me." Comments like that had ensured he would absolutely be relieved of guilt for what was to happen next. A smile spreads across the figure's facial features, revealing inhumanly sharp teeth glinting in the street lights. A hand quickly shot out, taking a hold of the rather obnoxious man. "What the hell are you doing-" A scream soon pierced the quietness of the night. It quickly became a horrendous gurgling noise. The cellphone in the man's hand had fallen in the process. Leaving the person on the other end to become worried and confused about what was happening to the man. It didn't take very long for the man to become completely still. The figure allows him to finally fall to the cement below, licking at his blood stained lips in satisfaction. "The night, it is still so young. I don't think I shall waste another minute on you." Like a ghost in the night, he had vanished. As if he were never there. Leaving only the grotesque mess he had made for others to find. Unknown to him, there was a witness to this who had seen the whole thing. Watching in complete and utter fear. The figure grinned, it was as if he were seeing the world through different eyes. The opportunities that awaited him. It sent a shiver of excitement up his spine. His thirst might have satiated but he wasn't satisfied with only that. Oh no. There was so much more he had in mind for this city. Just wait till morning until they discover his little surprise for all to see. It wasn't until hours later did he finally return to the house. Feeling pleased with himself. Carl shot up in bed, heart racing so fast within his chest. Calming down once realizing he was in bed with Matthew. It took the retired scientist to recognize his surroundings. "That's right.. we're at Gene's place." The dream he had woken up from was already fading from his memory. It was rather absurd, recalling what he could. He could've sworn the dream was incredibly vivid and felt so real. But the little bits of the dream that he did remember became fuzzy and distant in his mind. Carl wasn't as quiet as he thought. Matthew had woken up. "Love, are you okay?" His voice had brought Carl from his thoughts. "Matthew, dearest. I hadn't meant to wake you up." He frowned, feeling guilty as he wanted his husband to get as much rest as needed. "It's alright, I needed to get up early anyway. Don't feel bad, my darling. I'm worried about you, though.” He gave Matthew a smile. “It was just a dream. I was just startled from a dream. I don't even remember what happened in it anymore. I'll be fine.” Matthew pulled the other into his arms, holding him in such a comforting manner. Placing a loving kiss to Carl's forehead. “Even so, I've still got you.” The former scientist blushed. Matthew still had such an effect on him even after all this time. “Thank you, my love.” They had stayed like that for a good while. It wasn't until Carl noticed the time that he forced Matthew to get out of bed and to get ready for his community service. Though there was something that had been bothering Carl since waking up. He had not remembered going back to bed after his conversation with Gene last night. No matter how much he tried to, it just kept coming up blank to him. Carl sighed, he must've been that tired that he didn't remember. He was getting up there in age. “I could stay back. Margaret won't be very happy about it but I don't want to leave you if you're not okay.” Carl smiled once more. “I'm not going to be responsible for what she'd do if you tried. You're also expecting a new face there, aren't you?” Matthew looked surprised at that. He had completely forgotten about that. And Carl did make a point. Wincing at the thought of what Margaret might do if he actually did skip out on it. Though for Carl, it would've been absolutely worth it. Whatever punishment she'd dole out, he'd endure for his dearest husband. “Go get dressed now.” Matthew chuckled at that before doing as he said. Leaving Carl to this thoughts.

Carl still felt unsettled by the dream, it was like he was walking through a mist. Yet at the same time it was like someone or something was controlling his body and actions. The dream was scary, but also ludicrous. At one point Carl thought he saw someone who looked like his old narcissus ex boyfriend who he never thought about again until now. Carl just let out a sigh and shook his head. 'It was just a nightmare.' Carl reassured himself. He remembered how reading how the mind and senses can trick the body into thinking something is real when it isn't. His strange dream was just one of those cases. Carl decided to get out of bed and go downstairs. He was going to try and help his son and other son-in-law deal with this strange and frightening case of kidnapping. Carl pushed away the issue of the nightmare and headed downstairs, ignoring the feeling of dread in the back of his mind. Carl also did not pay attention to that fact that his mouth was no longer dry and that there was no glass cup on the nightstand when he got up that morning. Atomic Steele surveyed the area with caution and an intense gaze. He was going over the area looking for something out of the ordinary. Something that had bothered his friend and teammate Electric Blur. Something in this seemingly abandoned area affected Blur's powers. "I wasn't sure what just happened. It felt like I was suddenly communicating emotionally with a strange energy wave that was being transmitted from there. I felt uneasy and scared...but also sad for some reason." That is what Blur told Atomic when she came back to their hideout looking shaken and worried. She told him she never felt anything like that before, not even from the fallen B.E.A.W labs. Atomic Steele offered to check it out for her as the young heroine wasn't keen on returning to the spot. While Electric Blur was being comforted by her other teammates, Atomic followed the directions the heroine had given him to the location where she felt the strange and unsettling energy. What Atomic Steele found when he got there was a large but abandoned warehouse surrounded by an empty field. The area was surrounded by a rusted, wired fence. The place looked like it hadn't been used for years. Still, the normally brave yet brash young hero couldn't help but feel a child go up his spine. His gut and instincts telling him there is something dangerous here, something evil. Atomic Steele walked up to the doors of the warehouse. He grabbed at a rusted handle and tried opening it. To the hero's surprise and growing caution, the door easily unlocked. Atomic Steele took a deep breath and steadied his nerves. He then proceeded inside the warehouse in a slow pace, ready to discover what laid inside. "Oh hello there Matthew. Cutting it a bit close are we." Miss Dewey lightly teased the former villain as he just came into the library to start his community service. "Sorry about that Miss Dewey. I had some problems this morning but I'm here now." Matthew replied, feeling a bit embarrassed about cutting things close. He really didn't want to leave Carl and Gene alone during the family crisis that was happening but at the same time he really didn't want to test the limits of his second chance at freedom from prison. Miss Dewey gave the man a look of sympathy and concern. "You know, if there is a serious problem going on at home, I wouldn't mind helping you fill out some forms to request a temporary leave from your community service." The librarian offered. Matthew smiled in appreciation at her kind gesture. "Thank you Miss Dewey but I'll be alright." Matthew responded. "So has the new service worker arrived yet?", the former villain asked. Miss Dewey smiled and nodded. "Yes he is here. Matthew, allow me to introduce you to Frank Leigh." Matthew glanced over to the man Miss Dewey introduced. He looked to be a few years older than Victor but still younger than Matthew and Carl. He had dark hair and light, blueish gray eyes. The man gave a friendly wave to Matthew. "Hi nice to meet you." Frank spoke in a kind tone. @dualnaturedscientist

[madam-whim]

ESO players, tell me about the weirdest bug you’ve encountered while playing the game and how you worked around it (if there was a workaround at all).

For me, it would have to be that time when me and my dungeon team ran into a rather weird issue with Zaan’s HM in Scalecaller Peak. Now, in case you haven’t seen the HM, the big difference between it and the normal mode is that during the shield throw/poison phase, there are four separate methods to protect yourselves, and each player has to pick one of them up.

The options are: - Zaan’s shield, which would be used by everyone on normal mode, but can only be picked up by one person on HM, - the ice field that freezes you, previously seen during the ogre twins boss fight, - the stone orb that petrifies you from the gargoyle boss fight, - and finally the Nereid geyser thingies that pop up during the giant matriarch fight.

Now, we decided to get some HM practice in before trying for the trifecta, and went for this:

We worked out an entire rotation based on the healer and tank picking whatever method was most inconvenient for them first, and then we got started.

Only it turned out that our other DD could not pick up the nereid puddle for the life of him. It would always directly spit him back out when he tried it, and then he’d die. 

Well, shit, we thought, so much for that achievement.

But then our healer just went, “Wait, the achievement description says nothing about not dying at all, only that you can’t die to the poison. So how about you just... throw yourself off the cliff when it’s your turn to pick up the puddle, and then we resurrect you and move on?”

And so, for the next several tries, our buddy would roll or jump off the cliff during the first poison phase, until finally nobody else messed up and we got the achievement. To this day, we have no idea what caused this, since he could take all other methods without issue.

[lowkeyren]

NOT EVERYONE KNOWS!

in which — being in a secret relationship with them but they’re all idiots

featuring — dan feng, blade, jing yuan (separately) x gn!reader

wc: total 2.6k, from event req: here!, debut fic for my milestone event yippee, they keep fumbling but it’s ok cus they’re hot, reblogs w comments are appreciated, please enjoy!! <3

#DAN FENG

+ wait… since when are you guys married?!

dan feng? i just know he’s gonna mess this shit up so badly. he’s the high elder, but also the epitome of boyfailure. he really can’t help it, those terms of endearment just slip out so easily when you're by his side.

and it doesn’t stop there. he’s completely oblivious to the shocked silence and wide-eyed stares from others; for example, he might be holding your hand absentmindedly while discussing serious matters, and only snaps back to reality when you cough awkwardly.

but unfortunately, it’s not that simple when the gang (re: high cloud quintet) find out about your relationship. disclaimer: chaos ensues

dan feng immediately sits up upon seeing you enter the room, a fresh batch of tea brewing in hand. the discussion among the group gradually fades into the background as his eyes trail your figure while you carefully pour tea into each person’s teacup.

the piquant aroma fills his senses, and he can’t stop a small smile from creeping across his face when you take a seat next to him. he takes a sip, the delicate flavor enveloping his taste buds, leaving behind a delightful aftertaste that lingers long after the tea is swallowed. 

“—thus we require a substantial amount of time, speaking of which, anything on your end dan feng?” 

he finds himself watching you out of the corner of his eye. “imbibitor lunae…?” and it’s almost impossible for him to tear his gaze away from you. 

“hello? dan feng?” he snaps back to reality, blinking a few times before processing the initial question. “a-ahem, yes. darling, could you pass me the report?” he says, turning to your side.

the room falls silent, and a shocked gasp escapes from baiheng's mouth before jingliu clasps a hand over it; jing yuan shifts in his seat, exchanging a bewildered glance with yingxing. 

“hm..? did you forget to bring it?” his tone is soft and gentle, a stark contrast to the shocked expression on everyone’s face. “are you alright my dear? your face is quite red, do y—”

before he can finish, you manage to find your voice, trying to mask your embarrassment with a strained smile. “no, i didn’t forget the report, and i’m perfectly fine…  though our friends might need a minute to recover.” 

baiheng, still wide-eyed, blurts out, “hold on, are you guys… in a relationship?” 

dan feng blinks in confusion ”oh, did i forget to mention that part?” —to which you hear someone across the table audibly facepalm. 

you sigh, voice strained but laced with amusement, “i can’t believe you never told them we got married.” your words are followed by the sound of a cup shattering on the floor.

“wait… since when are you guys married?!” you pat jingyuan’s back, trying to stifle a laugh. “since last year.”

“seriously, and you never thought of telling us.”

“it was an honest mistake, yingxing.” dan feng replies, crossing his arms defensively.

baiheng shakes her head, “an honest mistake? like forgetting to water your plants, not like forgetting to tell us you got married!”

“well congratulations, i suppose. though a heads-up would’ve been nice.” jingliu manages a wry smile, though she internally cringes at baiheng’s exaggerated (or not) reaction, opting to just let her be. 

"sorry, it slipped my mind.” dan feng's nonchalant shrug only serves to further fuel jingyuan's irk, his eye visibly twitching; yingxing lets out a groan, still reeling from the revelation. you can’t help but chuckle softly at the scene unfolding, taking a sip of your tea. 

“you weren’t planning to tell us at all?!”

"honest mistake."  you can tell he’s just teasing his friends by the way a small smirk appears on his face as he attempts to hide it behind his teacup. (you nearly had to restrain baiheng as she tried to leap over the table.)

well, it seems like you’re not going to get anything done today.

#BLADE

+ easy, just buy me a nice ring and leave the lying part to me.

please. if you had a penny for every time blade almost exposes that you’re dating, you’d have three pennies. which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it happened thrice. 

the first time was when he received a call from you while in the car with firefly. he answered almost immediately, without realizing that wearing earphones does not necessarily mean he isn't able to be heard in real life, just that others can’t hear what he’s listening to. 

“went to boomerville n the locals said they knew u” —silverwolf, probably.

second was when someone confessed their feelings to you, and he “instinctively” jumped in to say you have a husband. "what husband? i don't see a ring on your finger." so now, that same man won't stop asking you about this so-called “husband” (that doesn’t exist). 

and third time, well we’ll see.

“are you sure you don’t want me to kill him.” 

you huff out in annoyance, “this wouldn’t even be an issue if you hadn’t mentioned i had a husband.” sighing, you push yourself off the bed and turn to face your boyfriend.

“...that aside, how exactly do you plan on handling him?” blade raises an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in his gaze. “easy! just buy me a nice ring, and leave the lying part to me.”

if blade hadn’t seriously considered taking care of the man before, he certainly seems determined to do so now. “hey what’s with that reaction…”

blade’s eyes narrow as he takes in your response. “a ring huh, what are you going to do with it?” you roll your eyes, trying to stifle a smile. “what else? pretend i have a husband.” 

he sighs, “is this really the best solution you can come up with?” (he really doesn't like the idea of you having a husband…that isn’t him, fake or not)  “yup!” you reply with a grin, “i’ll be eagerly awaiting the ‘surprise’!” with that, you plant a quick kiss on his cheek and swiftly exit the room.

oh you’re lucky he loves you. (even though this is totally, 100% his fault)

—

“hmm, bladie? why the sudden interest in jewellery?” kafka smirks, curiosity dancing in her eyes. blade chooses to stay silent, picking out the most expensive ring; and kafka’s expression only broadens with amusement as she watches his intense scrutiny of the display.

“planning something special, are we?” she teases, leaning closer. “or are you just trying to impress someone?”

blade finally glances up, his face inscrutable. “just taking care of business.” he replies tersely, slipping the ring onto the counter along the pile of designer jackets. 

“right… well, i’ll be interested to see how this turns out.”

—

“what?” the man in front of you asks, his confusion evident. 

you tilt your head slightly, trying to gauge his reaction. “you seem surprised. did you think i was joking?” you casually brush a strand of hair away, subtly flaunting the ring to him —and to any onlookers; trying not to crack a smile when you hear a loud gasp followed by a flurry of hushed whispers.

he grits his teeth, clearly embarrassed and humiliated by the commotion. “i didn’t expect you to be married… especially since you never wear the ring.”

“or is it that you’re not all that attached to your husband?” the audacity of this man… just as you’re at a loss of words, a firm hand grips the man’s shoulder from behind.

blade yanks the man back, and away from you. “you’re pushing your luck.”  the sudden motion causes the man to stumble, his face pale with a mix of surprise and fear.

“w-who the hell are you?!” the man’s voice trembles as he tries to regain his composure. meanwhile, you notice a crowd beginning to form around you, with some people eagerly pulling out their phones to record the escalating drama.

“leave, now.” you can tell blade’s patience is wearing thin, dangerously so.

the man’s eyes narrow in defiance. “why should i? you’re the one to talk when you’re hiding behind a disguise.” blade pins the man with a steely gaze, his intense stare making the man stiffen under its weight.

but what you didn’t expect was for blade to turn around, remove his mask and letting it dangle from one ear; he then raises your hand to his lips, placing a tender kiss upon it.

the man’s face immediately drains of colour, and the crowd around you erupts into a cacophony of gasps and murmurs. you’re not sure whether he's more shocked by blades' bold gesture or by the fact that a notorious criminal is standing right in front of him. (its the latter)

the man, now visibly shaken, scrambles away, yelling out a “sorry!” before disappearing into the crowd. blade pulls you away, ignoring the flashes of cameras and ducks into a nearby alley.

the next morning, you wake up to a barrage of notifications on your phone. you discover the group chat flooded with messages from your friends.

“@barcodewrist @[you] explain yourselves”

“Bladie, so that was what the ring was for~” 

“bro i cant believe this old ass man has rizz”

you quickly type out a message asking for context, in which you only receive a link from silverwolf. as you click in, you can’t help but wish you can unsee what’s on the screen.

“‘YOUR NAME’, IDENTIFIED IN ASSOCIATION WITH STELLARON HUNTER ‘BLADE’: WANTED DEAD OR ALIVE. BOUNTY SET AT 3.5 BILLION.” and attached below is a video of what transpired yesterday. 

“great” you mutter under your breath, “not only am i dating a wanted criminal, now i'm one too.” you shoot a quick message to the group chat “any tips on staying out of trouble when your boyfriend’s a fugitive? asking for a friend... and my sanity.”

on the bright side, at least you’ll be greeted by a very pleased blade, now publicly acknowledged as your husband —oh and don’t question the second ring on your finger.

#JING YUAN

+ stop you're not allowed to smile at me like that. / like what?

how do i even start. he’s so smug, please throw a rock at him and wipe that “:3” off his face.

you really do sometimes wonder if jing yuan ever truly intended to keep this relationship a secret, especially by how he practically transforms into a lovesick puppy whenever you’re within a 10 meter radius. 

goodluck because he's also such a tease, an insufferable one. despite that, you can’t deny there’s something endearing about how he always seems to light up when you’re around, his constant teasing remarks making it harder to stay mad whenever you call him out for being “too lax”. 

after all, he may be a headache, but he’s your headache —one that comes with a hefty dose of affection and a penchant for making every single moment spent together memorable.

being the general’s secretary, and his lover isn’t an easy job. 

you’re focused on the task before you; reviewing documents, scheduling meetings, coordinating logistics for high-stakes missions —ensuring no crucial information slips through the cracks. 

but you can’t help but feel a pair of eyes boring into you. it’s a subtle sensation, a weight that pulls your awareness away from the task at hand. you glance up from your desk, only to be met by jing yuan’s gaze, fixed on you with an intensity that makes your pulse quicken.

“jing yuan, what are you doing?” you ask, but he doesn’t answer. though a smile slowly spreads across his face as he continues to watch you. his overwhelming stare makes it difficult to concentrate…

and worse? he looks utterly and hopelessly in love.

“stop, you're not allowed to smile at me like that.” the words come out softer than intended; he leans in slightly, the warmth in his expression only deepening.

“and why not?” he asks, his voice carries a hint of amusement. the twinkle in his eyes suggests that he knows exactly what he’s doing, and it only adds to your annoyance. 

“because” you reply, trying to sound exasperated, “you’re looking at me as if you’re in love with me or something!” —and your handsome face makes it impossible to focus.

jing yuan’s smile only widens, clearly enjoying your reaction. “is that so? i didn’t realise my smile had such an effect on you.” (you hope his pants catch on fire because he’s obviously lying about being unaware of the effect his presence has on you)

“and i am in love with you.” 

that, in fact, did not ease the fluttering in your chest. “shh!” you quickly cover his mouth with your hand; you hold your grip for a moment longer, feeling the warmth of his breath against your palm.

“hmm… so i can't even look at my beloved partner now?” his voice comes out slightly muffled and distorted due to your playful assault on his face. you give his cheek one last, harsh pinch before finally letting him go.

you heave a sigh of relief once you’re sure no one heard anything, you loosen your grip but keep your palm resting on his face. with a playful pinch, you squeeze his cheek. “you tease!” you furrow your brows, though a small smile tugs at your lips despite your effort to remain stern.

you shake your head with a smile, “do you have any idea how hard it is to stay focused when you’re looking at me like that?” the admission slips out before you can stop it, and you feel a flush rise to your cheeks.

“i know,” he replies with a grin, “and i wouldn’t change a thing.”

jing yuan rests his chin on his hand, his elbow propped up on your desk; the warmth of his gaze and the cheeky grin on his face makes it hard to stay frustrated at him. 

“you’re impossible,” you say with a mock scowl, though your tone carries a lighthearted edge. “but it’s also hard to stay mad at you.”

he chuckles softly, clearly pleased with your reaction. he leans in a bit more, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “oh? then would you like to head out—”

“you wish.” you cut him off with a deadpan look, “that stack of papers has been sitting there since this morning, and it’s not going to magically sort itself out.”

you gesture toward the mountain of documents on your desk, which has only grown throughout the day. he sighs, settling himself comfortably into the seat beside you. you pick up your pen as you try to regain your focus again amidst the lingering warmth of his presence.

this time, you really do consider throwing a rock at him when his head falls on your shoulder as he dozes off just five minutes later.

but hey, at least he makes it clear that he’s head over heels for you, even if it comes with a side of embarrassment, and a few near heart attacks. 

MASTERLIST ; EVENT M.LIST

[flamingpudding]

Code: GHOST

It all started when a number code flashed across the screen of the Batcomputer while Tim was working on a case.

7 8 15 19 20

Flashed across the screen several times to the point it made Tim think that someone somehow managed to hack into the Batcomputer. It was also a number code he was not familiar with at all. So Tim reported it back over their comms in hopes that maybe one of the others knew what the numbers meant. Because all he managed to figure out from it was that the number code was an alert on the Batcomputer, one that came with coordinates that lead into the middle of nowhere.

Tim was about to join the discussion Dick and Jason were having on it when Bruce silenced them all apruptly speaking up.

"Answer code 2 1 20, sent them to the coordinates attached. I will be in the cave in ETA3 and take over from there."

The sudden silence on their communication line spoke volumes especially when Tim new the numbers was a simply code for Bat. He still did what Bruce asked him to do but that didn't stop the questions running through Tim's mind. He watched on the screen of the Batcomputer how the moment he sent the code in return, Programs started like on autopilot. A map opening that contained nothing at first but then changed into a map of a whole good damn city. Tim could only gap at what was happening on the Batcomputer before Bruce appeared and pulled him away from his seat to take over himself.

Bruce without a beat of delay started to input more codes and apparently access codes too as more and more windows opened on the Batcomputer. Tim did not realise that with time Dick, Cass and Damian had joined him as they watched Bruce work away on the Batcomputer. At some point an audiotrack opened but all they could hear was only static. They thought Bruce was going to run it through one of the noise filtering programs.

But to the shock of them, Bruce suddenly triggered a hidden compartment on the console, causing it to flip over and reveal communication link build in a way non of them had ever seen before. It was silver with green accents and looked far... older and less sleek than any of the ones they used. It was clearly not designed to stay completely hidden if put into your ear.

They watched how he simply put that earpiece on and then replayed the audiotrack.

The batkids shared a look of confusion. Non of them sure what to make of the situation until suddenly Bruce stood up from the Batcomputer.

"Prepare for a rescue mission. Nightwing, Orphan and Robin will come with me, the rest of you will stay in Gotham." Was all the man said before storming of towards the Batplane.

"Bruce what is going on?!" Dick instead of going to prepare asked stoping the man before he could get away from them. "What is the meaning of that code? Aside from the fact that simply translated it means ghost."

Bruce eyed the batkids present for a moment before letting out a grunt. "Ghost is finally ready to join the family."

"Ghost?" Tim echoed confused, never having heard that alias for any of them.

"Father what do you mean, 'join the family'?" Damian chimed in clearly frowning with suspicion.

The man eyed them once more his eyes going over each of his children, it looked like he was contemplating telling them more for a moment before he stood to fully face them and let out a sigh. "Like Clark, I too have clone child."

There was a stunned silence. No one speaking up until Dick did. "How long...?"

"14 years ago"

The silence continued as they all did the mental math. Once more it was Dick who spoke up first, clearly stunned. "You had a clone since I was eleven and now is the first time I hear of that?! You never bothered telling any of us?!"

There was a long suffering sigh. "We got to Danny before he was aged up, he was a normal baby even if created in a laboratory, so it was best for him to grow up normally, with the league we arranged for him to be sent to selected family since I had my hands full with you and-"

"Danny?!" Dick cut in. "His name is Danny? Does he even know about us?"

"Dick." Bruce called out his tone warning. "Of course I kept an eye on Danny's life. And I did made contact with him when the time was appropriated considering some of the things that were happening for the boy as he grew up, however he is not aware that he is a clone and it will stay that way. He will get to know all of you once we finished this rescue mission."

Before Dick or any of the others could say anything more Bruce spoke up firmly again. "Get ready now, we do not have any more time. Anything else will be handled later."

[munsonsmixtapes]

Slugger

Evan "Buck" Buckley x shy!probie!fem!reader

summary: you're the newest member of the 118 and Buck will stop at nothing to tease you as a form of flirting and you believe that he doesn't like you, but Eddie is going to do whatever he can to set the two of you up.

word count: 4k

cw: miscommunication, hurt/comfort, jealousy, reader gets hit on by a creep and it’s a little unsettling

part two part three part four part five

As soon as you stepped foot into the fire house, you were convinced that you were home. You couldn't explain it, but it was a lot more cozy than you would have thought. When you looked up and saw the rest of the crew eating a meal together like a family, you knew you were in the right place. You hadn't heard of departments doing that and knowing that they were like family to each other was refreshing.

You adjusted your bag on your shoulder and slowly made your way up the steps on the hunt for Captain Nash who you knew you needed to report to. And you were nervous to say the least. You always had a bit of anxiety lingering, but especially when it came to a new situation with a new place and people. This was all three and you were honestly just applauding yourself for even getting at far as you did.

As soon as you got to the top step, every single head turned to look at you. You felt your anxiety reach its peak as you realized that you were the center of attention and suddenly felt the urge to throw up. You noticed that everyone had even stopped eating in favor of getting a look at you and it took everything in you to not run down the steps and never come back.

"Hello," the man at the head of the table greeted as he waved you over. "And who might you be?" Your name suddenly floated out of your brain as the man waited for you to answer.

You told him your name once you finally remembered it and the man smiled, waving you over to the table.

"You're just in time for dinner. Take a seat." There was a seat at the end and you reluctantly set your bag in the floor before taking a seat.

"Welcome to the 118," the man next to you spoke. You turned to him and couldn't help but notice how pretty his brown eyes were.

"Thank you," you nodded as the man sitting across from you handed you a bowl that was full of spaghetti. You took it from him and couldn't help but noticed that he was eyeing you suspiciously. Maybe he was thinking that you were a fraud just like you were. He was definitely onto you.

"You're welcome. I'm Eddie," the man put his hand out for you to shake with a bright smile and you completely abandoned the bowl that was being held out to you. You shook Eddie's hand and you couldn't help but notice that it was soft but rough.

"Y/n," you replied softly even though he definitely already knew that since you had just said it. Eddie took the bowl from Buck and served you some of the pasta and the salad along with some garlic bread.

"So, it looks like we've got a new probie," the man across from you spoke. "We haven't had one of those since Ravi."

"Probie?" You had never heard that term before and by the way everyone was looking at you, you assumed that you should have known what it meant.

"Probational firefighter," Eddie replied, leaning closer to you before leaning back up before continuing to eat his meal. You just nodded and began to eat, the man across from you eyeing you for longer than you would have liked.

Buck gave you small smile then went back to his spaghetti and everyone engaged in conversation while you sat there silently, just content to be there.

Just as you were getting comfortable, the siren went off and everyone but you got up from their chairs, making a dash for the engine.

“You coming, probie?” Buck asked as he stopped at the top of the stairs. You got up and followed him, rushing to the engine where the only available spot was in between him and Eddie.

Eddie handed you a headset and you put it on, turning to him just in time to see his warm smile and you mimicked it, feeling grateful to have someone who was nice to you. You could feel Buck nudge you and you turned to your left to see what he wanted.

“I’m Buck, by the way,” he smiled and you thought he was cute, especially his little birth mark right by his eye. “And that’s Hen,” he pointed to the Black woman across from him. “And Chimney.” The Asian man next to Hen gave you a wave and Buck didn’t miss the confused look on your face. “Don’t ask,” he laughed. “And then that’s Ravi,” he pointed to the Indian next to the left of Chimney.

“It’s really nice to meet you,” Hen smiled. “I’m looking forward to having another woman in the department if it works out.” You wouldn’t have expected everyone to be so nice on a job like fire fighting and it warmed your heart that they were so welcoming.

“Same to you,” you replied and you began to pick at the skin around your finger nails, trying your hardest to not hum to yourself, something you often did when you were nervous or anxious.

The ride to the call seemed much shorter than it was as you listened to everyone exchange conversation. People usually called you out for being quiet, but you didn’t ever feel the need to speak unless you were spoken to or had something of value to say.

And the 118 seemed to respect that. No one commented on it and you found that odd. At least one person usually had something to say, but they all just talked amongst themselves and would occasionally involve you so you wouldn’t feel left out.

They were a family and that much was obvious, but even on your first day, they were so inclusive, trying their hardest to make you feel like one of them.

Once the engine pulled up to the scene, all of you got out and hurried to the fire that was taking over the house in front of you. You watched Buck, Eddie, and Ravi race inside while Hen and Chimney checked on everyone who was already out of the house. The fire was huge, consuming the house with it's bright orange hue and you desperately wished you could have followed the others into the house.

Your job was to get the others supplies when requested and to assist where help was needed. You really wished that you could have been in the action like everyone else, but you knew that it was just the way it was when you first started out on the job. You were still new and needed to prove yourself before you could really showcase how good you really were.

Ravi came running out with a cat in his arms that somehow seemed unharmed and passed it off to the little girl who had been crying for it. You hoped to be able to do that soon. That was the whole reason why you had even wanted to become a firefighter; to help people. But for the time being, you were going to go above and beyond by doing anything that was asked of you. That was all you really could do until your probation was up.

"Probie, hose!" Buck called out as he rushed out of the house and you quickly hurried to the engine and grabbed the hose before racing over to him. He had everyone clear back then turned on the hose, moving it back and forth to diffuse the fire.

The fire slowly died down and Buck handed the hose back to you which you put away and once everyone was taken care of, you all piled into the engine, you finding yourself between Buck and Eddie again.

Eddie clapped you on the shoulder with a smile that matched everyone else's. They applauded you for you first call and you were beginning to think that maybe you were going to really like it there.

"You actually did a good job, probie," Buck told you and you weren’t sure if that was an insult or an compliment. The word "actually" led you to believe to that he didn't think you were up to the job and that offended you a little. That because you were on probation didn't mean you were cut out to work with him. You had gone through all the training and schooling that he had, so why was he giving you such a hard time?

"Don't mind Buck," Eddie was the one to nudge you this time. "He just likes to tease. Ease up, alright?" He leaned over to look at his friend. "It's her first day." Eddie didn't know why, but he felt the need to protect you.

“I’m just teasing,” Buck replied. “She can take it,” he nudged you. Could you, though?

The rest of the shift was nothing but tiring as you responded to multiple calls and by the end of it, you were beginning to feel super sore even though you hadn’t done nearly as much as the others. You knew it wasn’t going to be easy, but that was what you liked about it. You felt like you always needed to be challenged and maybe this was finally going to be the job for you.

It had been a week since you started working with the 118 crew and you really did feel like you were fitting in with everyone. Well, everyone except Buck. He was especially hard on you and you weren’t sure why since all the others seemed to think you were doing a pretty good job. He’d tell you that the dishes weren’t washed the right way or that you missed a spot when wiping down the engine. The rest of the crew told him to knock it off, but he wouldn’t let up.

Buck wasn’t doing it because he didn’t think you were good enough, he just felt like you needed a little push. You were working hard, but he felt like you needed to work harder. He was just trying to make you into the best firefighter that you could be, and yeah, maybe sometimes he was being a bit too harsh, but really, all he was trying to do was help.

But that wasn’t the way you saw it. At that point, you were just convinced that he didn’t like you. He just wasn’t as nice as the other’s in the crew and he certainly wasn’t going to tell you what his intentions were. You’d never admit it, but he was starting to frustrate you. Bobby was the one in charge and here Buck was trying to tell you what to do. It was infuriating.

You weren’t going to tell him that, though. When you were angry with people, you tended to just ignore them and pretend that they weren’t there. You weren’t a fan of confrontation so that was the only way to let people know that you were upset. And you felt like it really sent the message in a more subtle way.

Buck didn’t seem to take your silence as anger, though. He just continued on with his teasing and pointing out your wrongs like nothing had changed. Maybe you should have taken a different approach, but what was done was done.

The only thing that seemed to make it worse was the fact that you and Buck turned out to live in the same apartment building. You saw him one night when you were getting off He awkwardly made small talk with you but you just acted as if he wasn’t there, completely ignoring him until the elevator got to your floor. Maybe it was more rude that you were willing to admit, but you had a point to prove.

Every time Buck saw you in the elevator, though, he still tried to act as if the two of you were actually friends. He would try and make jokes with you and when he was feeling a bit more confident, he would even get a little flirty, loving the way you would get all flustered and lower your head so he couldn’t see the adorable look on your face.

Then came the night at the bar. The 118 insisted on taking you out to celebrate your first week and everyone discovered that you were a completely different person when you drank. You were significantly more outgoing to the point where they were convinced that you were someone else. The normal you definitely wouldn’t have danced on the bar.

Buck watched you and Eddie from the other end of the table. He had his arm draped over the back of your chair and he was leaning into you as the two of you whispered and giggled with each other. It made Buck sick, but there was no way in hell that he’d admit that.

“Hey probie,” Buck called from across the table and both you and Eddie’s giggles were cut short, the two of you turning to the man who was trying to get your attention. “You wanna play some pool?”

You nodded enthusiastically and pulled Eddie along even though the invitation wasn’t extended to him. There was no way you were going to be alone with Buck for that long. The three of you headed to the table that was across from the one where you were sitting and Eddie handed you a cue which you gratefully took.

“I don’t know how to play,” you told him. “Can you teach me?”

“Yeah, no problem.” Eddie talked you through the game and you listened and nodded despite knowing exactly how to play. You were just trying to get him to actually help you. You wanted him to stand behind you and help you guide the cue where it was supposed to go.

Buck was the one to break and then the balls were assigned to the three of you. You were pretty good at the game, but you were just trying to get Eddie’s attention, wanting him to help you in any way that he could.

“Can you show me?” You bat your lashes and Buck could see what you were up to, able to see right through all your tricks and he had to admit that you were good.

“Of course,” Eddie nodded and moved to stand behind you. He placed his hands on top of yours and guided you, causing the ball you wanted to hit to be launched into one of the pockets. Buck could feel his blood boiling when you stood on your toes to press a kiss to Eddie’s cheek and was very tempted to throw in the towel right there.

Eddie helped you throughout the entire game and Buck was suspiciously quiet as he watched the two of you. He didn’t like the way Eddie would drape his arm over your shoulder and tuck you into his side. He also didn’t like the way he’d lean down to listen to what you had to say because you were so soft spoken.

What was so great about Eddie? Sure, the guy was his best friend, so he could see it, but what did you see in him? What was the thing that set him apart from Buck? Maybe it was because Buck had a history of sleeping around and that none of his relationships lasted very long, but that wasn’t necessarily his fault.

It was down to Buck and Eddie and they were both competing to hit the black eight ball. Buck seemed to be hitting it a bit too hard and Eddie wondered what was causing him to be so competitive. Anytime they played, it was always a friendly game and now he was acting like he wanted Eddie dead. He was going to have to ask him about it later.

It was Buck’s turn to hit the ball and he turned to you to see if you were watching only to see you applying some lip gloss. You dropped it and bent down to pick it up, giving him a great view of your ass. He was so occupied with his staring that he wasn’t paying attention and hit the ball without even looking.

“Ha!” Eddie pointed at him. “You scratched so I win.”

“That’s not fair!” Buck retorted, putting the cue stick away. He really didn’t believe that it was. He was only human and didn’t think it was fair that he only lost because you had distracted him.

“Life’s not fair, Buckley,” Eddie laughed. “Well, I’m gonna head out and get Chris to bed. Y/n, you need a ride home?”

“No thanks. I think I’m gonna hang here a while.”

“You’ll stay with her?” Eddie asked and who was Buck to say no?

“Yeah, sure, probie, I’ll keep you company,” he patted your shoulder and Eddie gave you and Buck hugs before heading out to his truck, leaving the two of you alone. Both Hen and Ravi left a while ago so it was just the two of you and a few others still there.

Maybe you really were drunk since you were willing to spend time with him. You pulled him over to the bar to get another drink and he was hoping that he could get you to see that he really wasn’t all bad. That he was a nice guy and that he was completely willing to show that to you if you would have let him.

There was a man to the far left, nursing a beer and you briefly made eye contact with him, giving him a smile before turning back to Buck. He, for whatever reason, took that as an invitation to come over to you and got a little close for your liking. You moved closer to Buck to show the man that you were with someone, but that didn’t seem to deter him.

“Hey, pretty lady,” he greeted and you could feel bile rising in your throat. You ignored him and felt a little guilty for doing so, but you knew that you weren’t required to be nice to him.

“Hi,” Buck replied, sensing that you were uncomfortable. As a man, he didn’t see why other men preyed on people when they were clearly uncomfortable. Why they never took no for an answer and would try their hardest to take what they wanted, not caring who they hurt in the process.

“I wasn’t talking to you,” the man shot back with a glare. “C’mon, don’t be shy. I won’t bite. Unless you ask,” he winked and you could feel the anger building up inside you. You had been told those words so many times in your life and you were sick and tired of that being a problem for people. Especially men that were trying to hit on you.

“I’m not interested, thank you,” you turned to him and he put on a smile. You also hated that you felt obligated to be polite and felt like someone bad would have happened if you didn’t. What was so wrong with saying no? Why did you feel like you had to spare their feelings when you were the one who was uncomfortable?

“Ah, so she speaks.” You could smell the alcohol on his breath as he got closer and your stomach lurched as you felt like there was no return.

“Can you please leave me alone? You’re making me very uncomfortable.” That only made him step closer and you stepped away, your back colliding with Buck’s chest and he rested his hands on your arms, pulling you into him.

“Oh, is this your boyfriend? I’m into threesomes,” he tried to reach out and grab your hand, but you pulled it away before he could, the bile coming up more quickly now.

“She said to leave her alone,” Buck said. He could see your shaking hands and wondered why your fear wasn’t making the guy let up. He was about to do something drastic until the man spoke up again.

“Why don’t you make me?” Without another word and only having thought about it for a split second, your fist collided with his face, the force causing him to stumble back.

You could see the anger in his eyes as he lifted his head and blood poured from his nose as you shook your hand, hoping that would get rid of the pain, but it didn’t. He clutched his nose then made a beeline for the bathroom to clean himself up, giving you and Buck the perfect chance to call it a night.

Both you and Buck gasped at your actions and you both hurried to pay your tabs before Buck took your hand and pulled you out of the bar to his jeep. All you could think about was how guilty you felt for punching the guy, but you knew that Buck would have just told you that he deserved it.

And maybe he did. He was crossing a boundary and definitely needed to be put in his place. And yeah, maybe a punch wasn’t the best move, but it was the first thing you thought of to do and clearly it had worked.

“Damn, I didn’t peg you for a slugger, probie,” Buck laughed as he opened the passenger door of his jeep for you.

“I’m not. I mean, I know how to, but I never thought I’d have to throw a punch.”

“Well, he deserved it. Are you okay? Can I get you anything? I know that can be scary and I want to make sure you’re good before I take you home.”

“I’m good, Buck. Thank you. For everything.”

“Of course,” he nodded. “Your chariot awaits, ma’am,” he opened the door wider and you got into the seat before he closed it and got in on his side.

You thought he was going to start the vehicle up, but instead, he reached over and opened the glove compartment and pulled out a small first aid kit. He set it on top of the console and pulled out an alcohol pad, some antibacterial gel and some gauze.

“Can I see your hand?” You held it out to him and he opened the alcohol pad before rubbing the stranger’s blood off of your knuckles before putting on some of the gel and wrapping it up in the gauze. “Be sure to put some ice on it when you get home,” he said before letting go of your hand and you almost didn’t want him to. It was soft but rough and you immediately wanted to grab it and intertwine your fingers, letting them rest together on the center console.

The car ride on the way to your building was silent and you were on the fence about how you felt about it. A part of you liked it since the bar had been so overstimulating, but the other wanted to fill it so you wouldn’t have any opportunity to think about all of the things that made you anxious.

You wondered if Buck was going to behave that way with you from now on or if it was a one off because of the alcohol. Granted, he hadn’t had a drink in hours, but still. He was being so caring and thoughtful and you couldn’t help but wonder what had changed.

Buck, on the other hand, still wasn’t able to realize that he was crushing on you. The jealousy that coursed through him when you were with Eddie should have been a tip off, but it wasn’t. He was still convinced that he was just protective, but really, that was the role that Eddie had taken on.

Or maybe he knew how he felt, but was suppressing it because of his dating history. People didn’t seem to want to be with him for very long and he was beginning to think that he was the problem. Everyone was always leaving him behind and he couldn’t stand to add you to that list.

He didn’t think he was good enough anyway. Eddie was the one that you deserved. He was sweet and kind and obviously cared for you. And he seemed to be more of an adult than Buck was. He didn’t sleep around and had actual adult relationships, something that Buck still wasn’t super accustomed to. He knew he could be that for you if that was what you wanted, but he felt like you deserved much better that what he was able to offer at the moment.

He pulled into his spot in the parking garage and the two of you headed for the elevators before Buck pressed the button with the arrow facing upwards before leaning his back against the wall.

You awkwardly stood in front of him, going back to your old self since the effects of the alcohol had worn off. You crossed your arms over your chest then stepped into the elevator as soon as it opened, Buck following you.

You pressed the buttons for both of your floors and actually found yourself hating to cut your time with him short. You glanced at him and were surprised to find that he was already looking at you. He was sporting a cute smirk and all of a sudden, you found yourself wanting to know what his lips felt like. Maybe there was a little alcohol in your system after all.

The doors opened on your floor and you shook off some of your nerves and pressed a featherlight kiss to his cheek before pulling away.

“Goodnight, Buckley.”

“Goodnight, slugger,” he replied, giving you a new nickname that you definitely preferred to “probie.”

You stepped out of the elevator and stood there until it closed, watching it go up, taking your cute coworker with it. As soon as he was alone, Buck chuckled to himself, wondering what had prompted you to kiss him, but knowing that he shouldn’t have questioned it. At that rate, he was going to take what he could get. And if he was going to get more kisses from you, he was really going to have to play his cards right.

[gayerthanevertbh]

good girls have gone… bad?

summary: her sister has been on your thoughts ever since you became friends with yelena. you two exchanged a quick gaze, and you both wondered right away who natasha romanoff was. sleeping with your best friend's sister isn't such a bad idea, considering yelena left you to spend some time alone with natasha, right? you knew she was way older than you, and you loved that.

warnings: smut, age difference (reader is 21; natasha is 37) blowjob, natasha has a penis, dirty talking, and more - 18+ minors dni

note: i'm back! i'm sorry if i haven't been updating, if i have to be honest i lost interest in this account. but now that i'm back, i think i'll be writing here more often! i apologize if there are some errors with this fic

“I have to get my report card at uni today,” While I was engrossed in a vlog on my phone, Yelena let out a sigh as she devoured her bag of chips. “Are you okay being alone here for now? I mean, you’re with Natasha. So you’re in good hands.” 

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Your sister doesn’t talk much.”

“She has a day off from work; give her a break.”

I laughed involuntarily. “Even though she’s not at work, she doesn’t talk much. She’ll talk if we want something for dinner or something.”

"I believe she is simply shy," Yelena kissed me on the forehead and said as she got her bag off the couch. “Listen, call me if you need anything. Just hope that I have a signal.”

I smiled at her as she departed, leaving me in solitude within the living room, embracing the tranquility. Yelena and I have been friends since senior year, which I find amusing considering that I have always seen her at school since I was a freshman. It's etched in my memory how she was the one who reached out to me initially, and from there, we embarked on a whirlwind of parties and adventures. Over the course of the past two years, she became the sole person I could rely on. We were supposedly living together at our university, but she mentioned that I could sleep at her place any time whenever we’re on campus since her place was conveniently located nearby. Then, upon encountering her sister, Natasha Romanoff, my heart seemed to come to a halt.

She was absolutely stunning, without a doubt the most beautiful woman I've ever laid eyes on. She had a chic, cropped hairstyle, delicate hands, and a radiant smile that seemed to stretch for miles whenever I caught a glimpse. I found everything about her quite appealing, including her tendency to be more reserved in conversation. I often pondered whether or not Yelena had parents, but she remained tight-lipped on the subject. She only shared with me that from a young age, Natasha whisked her away from their parents and they began their life in New York. Her sister has always been the one supporting them financially, which is why she has been consistently absent. However, Yelena's admiration for her sister knows no bounds.

It was sweet, which made me jealous sometimes. 

As I made my way back to Yelena's room, Natasha emerged from her own room, a warm smile gracing her face.

“I assume Yelena’s not at home?”

I shook my head. “No, she’s getting her report card at university today.”

“Oh,” She let out an exasperated sigh and casually leaned against the wall. “And you? You’re not getting your report card?”

“I already got it; my parents weren’t so proud this time.”

“What did you fail?” She let out a soft laugh, fixing her gaze on me intensely, causing a knot to form in my stomach. I'm not sure if it was positive or negative, but her intense gaze made my heart skip a beat.

“Finance,” I murmured. “I didn’t focus with that subject that much, which I completely regret.”

I heard her giggle again, and it made my heart race even faster. When I give it some thought, I realize that Natasha and I are similar in one area: sex. I don't discuss it with Yelena or my other friends, but I don't feel embarrassed talking to Natasha about it. Although we've never actually done it, we were both flirtatious about it. Natasha usually asks me to come to her room while Yelena is sleeping, where she usually spends her time masturbating at the foot of the bed. And when it was my turn, I would smother my fingers when Natasha expressed her wish to touch me. 

In her bed. 

The following day, we just look at each other as if nothing had happened and don't discuss this. Since Yelena didn't seem suspicious, which I was grateful for, I carried on doing this with Natasha until she eventually became tired of me. I was probably just another girl in her view, someone to be used. She was, nevertheless, to me like the book that I couldn't put down. I was drawn to her and wanted to spend time with her.

I could never acknowledge such a thing.

“I was wondering if...” Her mouth became silent as she walked over to me, smirking, and brushed her delicate fingertips over a strand of my hair. “Maybe you’d join me in our secret affair?”

I snorted. “Affair? Natasha, we aren’t in a relationship.”

"Well, it would be impolite to suggest that we watch porn together or something; you are aware of the subject."

I debated whether or not to do it today because Yelena might return at any moment. I sighed heavily and shook my head because she had not told me what time she would be home. It was a bad idea, because if that turned out to be true, we could be caught.

But it wouldn’t hurt to do this... Right?

“Okay,” I whispered to her as she trailed her fingers on my collarbone. “Take me to your bedroom.”

“Shit,”Natasha whispered, holding on to her mattress sheet. “That feels so good, baby. K-Keep going; don’t stop.”

I stared at her face, contoured with lust,  and bobbed my head up and down. Considering that her cock felt erect in my mouth, I find it fascinating how much this makes her want to engage. She lifted her hips a little as I licked and sucked on the tip of her dick.

“Good girl,” She whispers, pressing my head farther down as she runs her fingers through my hair. “You like that? You like my cock in your mouth?”

I let out a quiet affirmation as I sensed a certain anticipation on my tongue, observing her eyebrows furrow each time I took her length into my mouth. “You’re so big,” I withdrew my mouth from her cock and caressed her whole length, filling the room with loud, sloshing sounds. “I’ve never done anything like this, Daddy.”

“Oh yeah?” She gently sat up on the bed and slapped the head of her dick onto my lips by grabbing the base of her length. “Open up, sweetheart. I need to cum in your throat.”

Ideally, I would prefer that not to occur. I had to taste her, though, because it was Natasha. Heck, I didn't even give a damn if Yelena was home right now. All I wanted was for this to occur, for her to require my presence. I bobbed my head angrily and made gag noises as I sucked on her dick once more.  

It turned on Natasha even more as I did so. 

“You’re so warm, fuck...” I knelt on the bed as her words faltered. "You're such a slut for my dick, look at you. Tell me, you wanted this, didn’t you?”

More than you could ever know. 

She was probably amazed at my ability to pull off such a feat as she watched me in disbelief as I placed her genitalia into my mouth. The action caused me to cough a little, and I choked on her genitalia right away. And I pulled my head back. She pouted, her whole length smeared across my face as she gripped the back of my head. "Baby, I thought we were just gon' talk dirty to each other."

I whimpered. “I needed you, Daddy.”

“Yeah? You needed me?”

“So bad,” I whined as I kissed her length. “Please don’t stop.” 

“Open your mouth.”

She fucked her cock by pushing it back down my throat. Hard. I throw my eyes back, and Natasha's hips falter as she strikes the back of my throat. She recoils her head. “I’m going to cum down your throat, and you’re going to swallow it, okay, baby? You are so good for me, so so good...”

If I were the only girl in the world, I would do this every single day. However, I was aware that I was probably not destined for her because she was much older than I was and I was too young. People will make judgments; she wouldn't think that of me.

Natasha remained motionless for a few moment before turning to face me with a broad smile. "You feel like you're wet to me?" I moaned around her cock as she reached for my covered cunt and gripped it. "Oh my god! Fuck, keep doing that, baby girl.”

I kept moaning all over her length as she quickly and forcefully fucked my mouth, causing me to gag every time her tip touched the back of my throat. I was her sex toy, and I never wanted to be anything else once she put both of her hands on the side of my head.

“I want to fuck your pussy,” She continued to fuck my mouth like an animal while whispering in a rough manner. “I want to—ugh—I want to rip your pussy apart, especially that throat of yours. I bet you’re so tight, baby. Fuck, I can imagine myself ripping you open.”

Rip me open, make me fall apart. I’ll be anything to you, anything. 

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Natasha drew her length a bit and rolled her hips against my face, her cockhead resting on my tongue instead. “I’m going to cum on your tongue and you better swallow it; don’t waste any drop.”

She was hooding her eyes and idly stroking her dick when I parted my lips wide for her. She glanced at the door once, then grabbed my jaw and drew me in. “Here it comes, baby. I-I’m going to cum—fuck almost there just... Argh!”

She stroked her dick widly as she came onto my tongue. She kept stroking her length, and I had to close my eyes because I could feel some of her semen falling on my face. However, she released all of it on my tongue. Slapping her tip on my face and smearing her length all over it, Natasha let out a long, raspy moan. “You look so pretty in my cum.”

“You c-came a lot...”

With a nod, she reclined on the mattress. "Yes, I did. It's been a while since I've truly done that," she says, continuing to stroke her dick, albeit more slowly. I got up and grabbed the closest towel I could find after realizing that I had to go before Yelena could see or smell the sex in this room. "Are you sure you haven't done that with anyone?"

“I never give blowjobs,” I stated with a small voice as I wiped off my face with a clean towel. “When was the last time you had a girl suck on your dick?”

Natasha was standing in front of me as I turned around. As soon as she gripped my waist and drew me even closer to her body, I felt my breath catch. She let out a long breath and muttered, "You were the first person to give me an orgasm in a very long time, darling."

I chuckled lightly. “I thought you’d never do something like that. With me, at least.”

“You’re very pretty,” She pulls down my shorts, gesturing for me to roll my eyes back as she holds her dick in her palm. “Can I feel you? Just a bit? I just... I want to imagine what it’s like to feel your pussy rubbing on me.”

I gazed into her eyes, taking note of the intensity of her desire. So I lowered my panties to my mid thighs and touched her cock, gently stimulating the sensitive area. We both felt a rush of pleasure as Natasha leaned her head against my shoulder, drawing me in closer to her.

“You’re making me hard again,” She whimpered and pressed her cock against me, causing me to scream quietly. “Oh shit, you are tight!”

“Fuck, Nat—Yelena could go home any minute!”

“Just one minute,” she begged as she looked at me in the eye. “Baby, let me fuck you.”

“Okay, okay,” I whispered and felt myself being pushed against the edge of her desk, her hands hoisting my legs up. “Oh god—”

"God, I’m about to rip you open here,” Natasha spoke with such assurance that it began to pique my interest. I bite my bottom lip as she retreats a little and thrusts back into my cunt. “Let it all out, baby girl. Let Daddy hear you—”

“Y/n, I’m back!”

“Shit!” I exclaimed and pushed her away, pulling up my shorts. She immediately grabbed her boxers and wore them before I reached for the door. “Natasha, she can’t see me like this. Or you like this!”

“Just hide here for a moment,” Natasha led me into her bathroom, responding to my request. I widen my eyes in anticipation, waiting for her next words. “Just for this moment, okay? I’ll handle everything.”

I recognized what I had done as soon as she shut the door. I looked so desperate that I should never have given Natasha a blowjob in the first place. I shook my head carefully, running my fingers through my hair. "What did I do?" Sitting on the floor, with more memories of us playing along in my thoughts, I asked myself. Was I a lousy friend? Would Yelena even accept me if I was?

I don’t know. 

hehe let me know if i should make this as a story

[srngrque]

tell my girlfriend i love her.

jude bellingham x fem!reader. fluff jude has something to say to the public, clearly.

The city of Madrid was crying out loud in white and happiness while you were quietly suffering with your thesis paper, the ultimate killer of your life.

Your heart was already sinking, knowing you were not able to go to the stadium to cheer your boyfriend after his first biggest win of the season but Jude was more understanding than anyone as he kept saying it was alright and it just made your day way worse.

("I am so sorry, I wish I could come but this paper . . it is killing me." You muttered through your phone, as the other line heard you in silence.

Jude sighed, and your heart broke a little. It will be his big day, his club's big day, and you, being his girlfriend, could not attend. Your thoughts lingered toward the trolls on the internet who would be after the status of your relationship.

"It is alright, my love. You will call me after we finish the game, innit? I would just love to hear your voice after we win." Jude softly said, in his voice settled a calmness and a sense of assurance.

You nodded furiously. "I will call you, of course, I will. I love you," You sighed in defeat. "I love you so much." You said it once again, more clearly to hear, more firmly to believe. You could just envision Jude sitting on his bed, biting his lips in slight disappointment with his shoulder completely down like a baby.

"I love you too." He chuckled, trying to make you feel better about the whole situation. "Your boyfriend will make you proud."

"My boyfriend always makes me proud.")

So you decided to take a break from the paper and see the live broadcast of Real Madrid through your large television that Jude gifted claiming to watch him play while you do your little assignment. Switching the television on the news was already covering the win of Real Madrid in the Champions League. After his fresh win with his club, you had already called Jude but it was impossible to pick up since he was happily celebrating with his family and his teammates.

And you did not mind.

His bright smile and the happiness that twinkled through his eyes as he proudly showed off his badge and its accomplishment was warming your heart. Proud was an understatement with Jude, but it was all worth it.

Traveling around Madrid with his teammates on the upper deck of the bus. Your eyes lingered on Jude through the live broadcast as he quietly sipped his cup. You shook your head, laughing since his drunk behavior is quite questionable and now he has decided to show off to the world.

This would be fun, you thought.

"Jude, how do you feel about the win in your first season?" The reporter gently forwarded the mic to Jude who had a red cup holding on his hand. He laughed, grabbing the mic.

"Being in Real Madrid was already a great pleasure, but winning with the club and for the people who support Real Madrid was another beautiful moment of my life and I do not think I will ever forget. But I," He caught a breather for a moment, "I honestly do not know but like, I miss my girlfriend." He rambled through his words. You laughed on your couch, confused and slightly nervous about his behavior. "So I do not know, maybe I am happy but I am sad too." He confessed at the end.

With all the fixed pieces of your heart, it broke piece by piece with his confession at the end.

The reporter took the mic from Jude, but he frantically grabbed it back as if he still had something to say. Clearing his throat, he waved the cameraman to come closer, "Please come here. No, please stay back. No need. I have a mic. Please stay back. I need to look presentable." He laughed.

You mentally note to never let his lips touch any form of alcohol whatsoever. Well, his mother will do the part too. "Can you please tell my girlfriend I love her? Oh wait, I have a mic." Jude whispered to the reporter whilst still holding the mic.

You cupped your mouth, not wanting to laugh at him. Your heart clenched out in adoration at the boy standing in front of a sports broadcast confessing out loud that he simply misses his girlfriend.

"Jude, I think you told her that just now." The reporter laughed. The camera shook in a degree noticing that the cameraman was laughing alongside. The heat crept through your neck but your eyes could not leave him, and his expression for the whole nation to see, he furrowed his eyebrows, shaking his head.

"No, I need to tell her properly again." Jude expressed his words through his pouted lips and his eyes darted at the camera.

"We won, baby. I love you, I love you so much, I will call you after this, I promise and I will fly to you and my heart will still be yours." Jude smiled, staring at the camera with his eyes still sad, yet his smile gave enough of how much he simply wanted to be with you right now.

"I love you too." You whispered softly . . for nobody to hear but most likely the ghost, yet it was enough to know he is coming home to you.

[too-much-tma-stuff]

Finally Getting Help (pt 3)

first | last | Masterpost | Next

What Tim and Bruce found was completely ridiculous. It really wasn’t hard to find the Doctors Fenton’s website but it was ridiculous! It was outdated and gaudy with animations of cartoony ghosts everywhere. If it hadn’t been for how clear Danny was about his parents' names Tim would have skipped right over it. But when he got past the terrible website design and started reading it his stomach just dropped lower and lower.

The writing was clean and scientific though it couldn’t disguise the malicious delight they took in tearing the creatures they called ���ghosts’ apart. Whatever these ghosts really were Danny had been internalizing this attitude about Himself for years! They also bragged about their weapons and their government contract. So whether that was true or not Danny hadn’t been lying or delusional, it was his parents. And regardless of what these ghosts actually were it was obvious they were supernatural so RR sent a link to the website to Zatana.

(link)

RR: What do you think?

Tana: Lol is this a joke?

RR: I wish, I know it looks like one but no, this is deadly serious.

Tana: Hang on

Red Robin put down his phone to give Zatana the time to read over the site and looked more into Maddy and Jack Fenton while she did. He found their graduation certificates, and pictures of them in college with what must have been a much younger Vlad. So they were actually doctors of some sort, they had their doctorate, though that didn’t exactly make it any less likely they had gone fully off the rails now.

His phone dinged and he picked it up to see one short message from Zatana.

Tana: I’m coming to the cave.

Tim sighed and put his phone back down, spinning his chair to face B who was hunched over the computer typing furiously. “Zatana is on her way, I asked for her opinion of the Fenton’s research and she must think it’s big.” He said as he dug out a domino mask.

“Hm,” B sounded and went to get his cowl. “Report?”

“The Doctors Fenton are doctors, they got their doctorates though I don’t know in what yet. They’ve been friends with Vlad since university and they certainly at least think they’re studying ghosts. Their website has articles on behaviours and biology, and how to hunt and hurt ghosts. They brag about a government contract.” Tim summarized. “You?”

“The Ghost Investigation Ward does exist and they are a government agency but they only seem to be active in the town of Amity Park and they’re so inept! It wasn’t hard to hack them, they’re trying to sound mysterious and a little dangerous talking about protecting humanity from invasions from other worlds but I don’t think they’re actually that competent,” Batman said with a scowl.

“The only reason we didn’t know about this was because we weren’t looking! And it’s possible Danny is right and they were jamming calls from Amity to the JL, but I have a terrible feeling what actually happened if that the call came through and someone heard them talking about ghosts and rogue government agencies, assumed it was a prank and blocked them,” Bruce said massaging his temples.

“Ah,” Tim said, his heart dropping at how plausible that sounded. Could they have saved Danny before, if they had taken that call seriously.

“And Vlad is the mayor of his town, there are articles about Danny fighting him in public. It seems like everyone knew their relationship was antagonistic at best and No One defended him. The GIW also listed him in their special thanks for helping fund them. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s been using them as a tool to threaten and control Danny.” Batman said with cold fury. Tim took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly.

“We weren’t able to protect him, but we will avenge him. And we’ll keep him safe Now,” Tim reminded his father. Privately thinking that as soon as he could he was going to tell Jason about this so they could Really make sure Vlad never came near Danny again. An arrest just wasn’t strong enough for a man like that. He wasn’t going to tell Bruce that though, obviously.

The sound of the Zeta tube interrupted their moment as Zatana arrived, looking slightly more ruffled then she usually did. She must have really rushed here, which was a bit worrying.

“Zatana,” Batman greeted.

“Hello Batman, before we talk I need to check your wards.” She said already walking past them.

“Hm,” Batman sounded, making RR smile a little, how Batman made that sound mean so many different things always sort of amazed him.

“I need to check the ones on your home too. And I’d like to meet the boy you have under your care,” She said briskly.

“How did you know about the boy?” Batman asked gruffly.

“Lucky guess,” she said briskly, her hands glowed as she walked around the cave, making seemingly random gestures as if touching or pulling on invisible threads. None of the bats really understood magic so they left her to it. When she was done they let her up into the manner, she knew their identities already after all and she checked all the wards on the home very thoroughly, occasionally casting spells to reinforce them. They collected Dick and Damian trailing after them curiously as they went as well.

“Alright, can I meet the boy now?” She asked, turning towards Bruce who crossed his arms and puffed out his chest a bit.

“Not till you explain to us what’s going on,” He growled and Zatana looked over the curious stubborn faces surrounding her and sighed.

“Fine,” she allowed, resigned. She rubbed her temples as she looked around for a chair and sunk down into it. “So what the Fentons seem to be referring to as Ghosts are actually denizens of the Infinite Realms, the space in between every world and afterlife. Some of the beings there were once people who died but many aren’t. They’re also known to be very powerful and quite violent though thankfully not particularly interested in the living. The fact that the Government is apparently messing with something like this is very bad news.

“Constantine and I have been keeping half an eye on the situation in Amity Park but they had their own pair of Heroes, Phantom and Red Huntress, who seemed to have the situation well under control so we weren’t all that worried about it. We weren’t tracking the more human elements of the GIW and the Fentons,” She bit her lip and thought for a moment.

“When Tim sent me that website and I was made aware of those, that changed things. What’s worse is the photo the Fentons’ have of their family. Their son… we knew Phantom looked young but ghosts often stay at a younger age than they really are, with how powerful he was we assumed he was Old. But he looks exactly like the Fenton’s son. Did they not notice he was dead or…” She looked around at their faces, apparently getting her answer from their expressions.

“There have been rumours for a long time about a very rare and powerful sort of living dead, humans soaked in the pure energy of the infinite realms resulting in a still living ancient. It’s so rare that people usually think it’s a fairy tale but with the work Phantom’s parents do it makes a sick sort of sense. And what it means is that that boy you have stashed away is basically a baby God and we all have to be very careful.”

There was a heavy silence as they all processed what she was saying. “Are you… sure?” Tim asked, uncertainly.

“I won’t be till I meet him, but I’m as sure as I can be without that at the moment,” she said firmly.

Tim sighed and pulled out his phone. “Cas is with him, I’ll text her to see if she’s up to meeting you. If he’s that powerful we don’t want to push him right?” He asked as he typed out a text to Cas.

“Yes. Like I said he’s been acting as a hero in Amity, he seems like a good kid but I have no doubt in my mind if he’s pushed too far we could have a truly apocalyptic situation on our hands,” She said which made Tim swallow thickly.

His phone dinged and he checked it. “Danny is willing to meet you but he’s really tired so go easy on him and don’t stay long,” Tim relayed her message.

“Alright that’s fine, thank you. Show me the way please,” She requested.

Bruce took over, leaving the way. “We don’t want to overwhelm him, I think only I and Zatana should go in, with Cas still there since he seems to feel safe with her,” Bruce informed his children.

“Alright, just tell us everything soon!” Dick demanded and Bruce’s lips twitched up in just the suggestion of a smile as he nodded to them.

He took off his cowl, he wasn’t in his full uniform anyway and he didn’t want to scare Danny. Besides if he had been a hero even if he clocked Bruce he would understand.

“Hello Danny, it’s a pleasure to meet you, I’m Zatana,” She introduced herself s she followed Bruce in. She would have offered her hand to shake but Danny was half hiding behind Cas sitting on the bed.

“It’s nice to meet you too. What’s with the outfit?” He asked curiously which made her laugh.

“I’m a hero, one of the less known ones. I’m part of Justice League Dark which is their supernatural division along with Constantine and Deadman and a few others. He’s a ghost, but I assure you the government hasn’t been giving him any trouble, probably because they knew they wouldn’t get away with it.”

“So I’m just lucky then,” Danny said with a bitter curl to his lips.

“As a hero, I want to ask, are you Phantom?” She asked rather bluntly.

Bruce shivered as the temperature in the room suddenly dropped a few degrees and Danny’s eyes started to swirl with green as he glared at Zatana who managed to barely react. Batman noticed how her back tensed a bit but it was barely there. “You know?” Danny demanded. “You knew about what was going on in Amity and you didn’t help?!”

“I’m very sorry Danny,” She said genuinely. “We knew something was going on, but we didn’t look closely enough. We thought that you were an older ghost just of someone who died young because of your strength, and it looked like things were under control. Normally our involvement wouldn’t have been appreciated, intruding on someone’s haunt, so we didn’t look any closer. I am so sorry we overlooked you but we’re going to make up for it now I promise.

“I’ve checked and reinforced the wards on the house so nothing should be able to come in uninvited, and I’m going to contact the rest of the JLD. We’re going to go to Amity, we’ll figure this out and deal with it I promise.”

The temperature in the room slowly went back up, Danny was still upset, but he didn’t seem like he was about to snap anymore. While Zatana had been talking Cas had started gently rubbing Danny’s back and that seemed to be helping too. After a moment Danny looked up again and nodded, accepting the help.

“The veil must be very thin there, to let so many ghosts through?” Zatana probed gently.

“It is, but more than that two years ago my parents succeeded in building a portal to what they call the Ghost Zone. This kinda green world of floating islands.

“A portal,” Zatana said flatly, blinking rapidly. “To the Infinite Realms?”

“Ah is that what it’s really called? Ya probably? That’s how everyone’s been getting through. How I got my powers too, the ghosts call me a halfa, but I’m not the only one. Vlad’s one too.”

Batman heard Zatana mutter “Two?” softly, baffled and alarmed but she nodded. Bruce filed that information away too, it seemed Vlad was even more of a threat then he’d first appeared to be.

“Alright, I’ll get as many of the JLD together as I can and we’ll head to Amity. We’ll shut down the portal and deal with this.” She said determinedly.

From the look on Danny’s face he didn’t really believe her, but he nodded again and leaned against Cas. “Good luck I suppose,” he muttered and sighed, rubbing his face.

“Just… tell me if you get in over your heads okay, I’m used to dealing with all this stuff.” God he sounded so tired, the poor kid.

“I will, but don’t worry about us, just take care of yourself okay? This is a good place to be, I promise you won’t have to be alone anymore.” Zatana assured him. She probably had more questions, but it was very obvious that Danny was getting tired.

“Bruce is good dad,” Cas chimed in, speaking up for the first time. It embarrassed Bruce a little but he smiled at them and nodded a little.

“Thank you,” Danny said, his shoulder slumped and his back curled. “Can I go to bed now?”

“Of course Chum,” Bruce agreed, starting to shoo Zatana out of the bedroom with Cas on their heels. When they closed the door behind them Bruce heard the lock click quietly closed behind them. He really hoped that Danny would feel safe enough to sleep well.

@zlinen  @sebas-nights   @littlefeather345  @isnt-that-grape     @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit  @shadowkatt99  @fantasticstoryteller @blackshuckatdusk @blacksea21090  @sithlordchimchnga @fanfictionforme2 @imalittlefangirl25 @bushbees @yotsubaayase @thomasdimensor @ultimatebluff

[vaspider]

Measure 110, or the Self-Fulfilling Prophecy

So if y'all aren't local to Oregon, you may not have heard that the Oregon state legislature just voted to -- essentially -- gut Measure 110, the ballot measure which decriminalized all drug possession and use in the state. It turned all drug use into a citation instead, and the citation and fine could be waived by completing a health screening. The entire point of Measure 110 was replacing jail with health care and services to help people instead, and while I could probably write a very long side post on the imperfections of that approach, it was at the very least a move in the right direction after decades of the pathetic failure and absolutely racist mess that is the "War on Drugs."

You may hear this pointed to in coming years as a reason why we have to just throw people into jail for using drugs, because Measure 110 failed. And like... it did fail, kinda. Sorta. It failed in that it did not manage to fix everything immediately, and it created some new issues while also exposing older issues more sharply.

It also saved the state $40 million in court costs prosecuting low-level drug offenses, kept thousands of people whose literal only crime was putting a substance into the body of a consenting adult (themselves) out of jail, put at least one addiction services center in every county in the state, invested $300 million in addiction services, and an awful lot more. See the end of this post for more reading.

But where it failed, it failed because it wasn't supported. Police and advocacy groups both asked for specific tickets for this new class of offenses which had the phone number to call to go through the health screening and the information about how going through that health screening would make the ticket go away printed on it prominently - lawmakers declined to fund this. Governor Kotek budgeted $50K to train officers on how to handle these new citations and how to direct people to the treatment and housing supports, but lawmakers thought that training officers on this new law at all was a waste of money. Money moved extremely slowly out to the supports that were supposed to come into play to help people obtain treatment or get access to harm-reduction strategies. People freaked the fuck out about clean-needle outreach, fentanyl testing strip distribution, Narcan training, and other harm-reduction strategies.

And at the end of the day, Measure 110 gets called a failure because it wasn't a silver bullet. Never mind that thousands of people are not sitting in jail right now for basically no fucking reason. Never mind that people have gotten treatment, harm has been reduced, overdoses have been prevented...

So, yeah. You'll probably start hearing this trotted out as proof that, well, we triiiied decriminalizing drugs, but look what happened in Portland! Well, what happened in Oregon is that we got set up to fail, and still didn't fail, just didn't totally succeed.

Measure 110 highlights, quoted directly from Prison Policy Initiative:

The Oregon Health Authority reported a 298% increase in people seeking screening for substance use disorders.

More than 370,000 naloxone doses have been distributed since 2022, and community organizations report more than 7,500 opioid overdose reversals since 2020.

Although overdose rates have increased around the country as more fentanyl has entered the drug supply, Oregon’s increase in overdoses has been similar to other states’ and actually less than neighboring Washington’s. A peer-reviewed study comparing overdose rates in Oregon with the rest of the country after the law went into effect found no link between Measure 110 and increased overdose rates.

There is no evidence that drug use rates in Oregon have increased. A cross-sectional survey of people who use drugs across eight counties in Oregon found that most had been using drugs for years; only 1.5% reported having started after Measure 110 went into effect.

There has been no increase in 911 calls in Oregon cities after Measure 110.

Measure 110 saves Oregonians millions. Oregon is expected to save $37 million between 2023-2025 if Measure 110 continues. This is because it costs up to $35,217 to arrest, adjudicate, incarcerate, and supervise a person taken into custody for a drug misdemeanor — and upwards of $60,000 for a felony. In contrast, treatment costs an average of $9,000 per person. The money saved by Measure 110 goes directly to state funding for addiction and recovery services.

There is no evidence that Measure 110 was associated with a rise in crime. In fact, crime in Oregon was 14% lower in 2023 than it was in 2020.

Further reading/sources:

[adelheidvonschicksal]

⋆｡°✩ DARLING, DON'T BE AFRAID

Summary: Despite living with Xavier for the past few weeks, you still haven't taken the plunge to see if all this time together make you anything more than roommates especially when he disappears again in the middle of the night. Determined, you decide to question him on where his feelings lie. You just never thought a simple kiss on the cheek was the only push needed.

Pairing: Xavier x Fem!Reader

Content Warning: Roommates AU, Vanilla Smut (A lot of it. Like 7k words of smut), Love Confessions, Friends to Lovers, Emotional Sex

Word Count: 12,000~

Note: Sequel to Do Roommates Sleep Together. This part can be read as a standalone. So not necessary to read part one but it adds more context.

AO3 Link

You make a final decisive pull of the trigger. A loud pang resonates in the air and smoke spirals off the barrel. The Wanderer disappears in a wisp of debris and dust that is quickly caught in the wind.

Xavier stands a few feet in front of you. His sword twirls with one final arc of light illuminating behind the sharpened tip before it dematerializes in his hand.  You’re oblivious to the way his eyes search and find you on instinct as you run eager fingertips on the warm barrel of your pistol. 

“Mission completed. We should report back.”

You raise your head to meet his gaze while your gloved fingers remain faithfully on your weapon. The adrenaline from a successful mission is still surging through you.

“I want to test out my guns some more.”

His eyes soften at your response, but the weight of his gaze is still heavy as he walks towards you and places his hand on your head. 

“There will be more Wanderers tomorrow,” he murmurs. His thumb gently brushes your forehead before his hand swoops back over your hair. Though your hands were still itching for another battle, your mind was weak to the calmness of his tone, like the slow tumble of waves on the shore, as he coaxes your head back to look at him more directly. “Let’s go home.”

This time you do not protest. Even if you did, what could you possibly say? 

Your aggression relaxes along with your shoulders, allowing you to give in to his request with a quick holstering of your twin guns. 

You return to headquarters and give your mission report to Jenna – pausing only to poke fun when she mentions how much Xavier’s reporting time has improved since the two of you became partners – then you start on the way home with the sun kissing at your back.

Laughter fills the air on the streets. Immediately, you feel warm inside. It was only thanks to the work you do every day that citizens could enjoy this peaceful dusk without fear of monsters scrambling to destroy the city like so many years ago. 

It’s rewarding to know you hold some small part in the safety of the city after almost dying in the catastrophe as a child. You breathed it in fully, letting joy fill your lungs as you savor the calm moment. The emotion is only highlighted by the fact that when you look to your side, you can see Xavier there, putting weight to the empty space left in the wake of your family’s death. 

Walking home together in the past was a random occurrence, happening whenever your busy schedules after missions aligned. As freshly cemented roommates, it was almost a given you’d walk home together now. Not just to the apartment complex, but to an actual shared home. 

This path you go along every day has become special in that time. It’s full of promises, the kind you could only wish for on snowy New Year's evenings as you tied red ribbons to the shrine gate and prayed for good things to happen in your life. Not a lot of those wishes came true but Xavier did. 

In that way, you were a fortunate person. 

It was only your guess if he felt the same. You want to ask him. Unlike when you’re fighting Wanderers, you’re not brave when it comes to Xavier - a part of you prefers to leave things between you unsaid. It’s safer that way as you can keep living in a beautiful world of your own illusions. 

Therefore, you’re unable to help yourself. Pinching the sleeve of his uniform, you tug on it gently to gain his attention; Xavier looks at you with glossy glazed eyes. He’s always so sluggish after missions. His steps slow and methodical, like a robot, as he barely manages to straighten his spine and raise his head.

“Chin up, Xavier. We’re almost there.”

“I’m exhausted,” he says. 

You don’t need to hear him say it to understand. You think you’ve become good at reading his body language by now. Donning a sympathetic smile, you shift your hand, aiming for a lower target, and entwine your fingers with his under the guise of leading him faster.

“My next solution is carrying you by the way.”

A smile cracks on his face, impossibly light as his gaze drifts to the hold you have on his hand. “I don’t think you could carry me.”

“You dare doubt me?” Truth be told, he was right. He was tall and muscular and much thicker under that uniform than he looked. He would probably crush you under his weight if you tried to lift him. Despite how improper it was to think, you wouldn’t mind if he wanted to place his weight on top of you in another way. You tick up the corner of your lips into a surprisingly innocent smile opposite of the images in your imagination as you flash your bicep to him. “I’m very strong.”

“I think it would make more sense if I carried you.”

“I can walk.”

“I don’t see why that matters,” he says with a yawn, and you smile.

“Are you sure you won’t drop me?”

“If it’s a choice between falling asleep and dropping you then I’ll definitely stay awake. Otherwise, you might end up carrying me after all,” he says. Xavier always manages to be unfailingly charming. Given the mystery of his past and the way he carries himself, you often question exactly what kind of upbringing he had. You almost ask but your interrogation doesn’t have the chance to plant seeds when he stops in front of you and kneels. 

You thought he was joking when he said he’d carry you home but that doesn’t stop you from wrapping your arms over his broad shoulders and letting him scoop your legs up around his solid waistline. 

His clasp on the back of your thighs makes you shiver. You feel like a touch-starved virgin that the simple strength of his hands over the thickness of your pants incited such a reaction out of you, so you bury your burning face against the back of his neck. 

“Are you alright?” he asks.

Xavier must feel your hair against his neck, and you use the fact he can’t see your face to your advantage as you nod against his nape.

“Just hungry.”

For his part, Xavier doesn’t question your sudden hunger. Instead, he asks what you’re in the mood for and starts to list the restaurants that you pass on the way to the apartment complex.

You lay your cheek against him, watching the many buildings pass you by until you point out one you don’t recognize, flashing with many signs about a grand opening.

“How about that one?” you ask.

Xavier chuckles, continuing on in his steps past the building in question. “It’s not that great.”

“How do you know?”

“I tried them out.”

You squeeze into his shoulders, pushing off of them in a childlike manner and an even more dramatic gasp. “Without me?”

“I was going to bring you something back, but they weren’t very tasty. I like your cooking a lot more.”

You know he can’t see you, but you puff out your cheeks anyway. You wrap your arms tightly around him again, willing your heart not to skip when his back tenses as your chest compresses against him.  

“Are you asking me to cook dinner for you? I’m quite exhausted after all that running around,” you tell him sarcastically. 

He accidentally makes you regret your teasing when he agrees with a compassionate offer, “I’ll cook for you today.”

Hearing the word cook from his mouth makes your stomach sour. If there’s one thing after all these months you learned, it’s that Xavier is a…creative cook to put it gently. Or rather, he has zero cooking ability if it involves electricity. You didn’t mind. The two of you make it work with you doing most of the cooking and him cleaning up after, at your own behest, because if he had his way, he’d be in the kitchen much more often. 

“On second thought, I’ll cook.”

“You still don’t trust me,” he says with a sigh. Guilt tingles through you. However, your continued survival outweighs the guilt that the memory of his puppy eyes can draw out of you. “I’ll handle the cold stuff, and I’ll leave the meat to you.”

“Deal,” you say, nuzzling your head against his neck. 

When you get home, the night pans out like it always does. The two of you take turns in the shower with dinner being cooked shortly after, and the human garbage disposal known as your roommate leaves very little work for you to do once all is said and done. 

You decide to start on the last of chores for today while Xavier washes the dishes. It’s routine to check the plants before going to bed as the many potted flowers were like your own children after you spent so many hours tending to them, finding the perfect ratio of nutrients and water to keep them thriving. 

It is also routine to hunt down the birds so lovingly named Fatso and Alarm Clock by the sleepy man of the house to give them some of the seeds and nuts you regularly brought home from the store. You told Xavier that happy birds would stop eating his strawberries when in reality you liked to spoil them. 

So, you spread out the seeds on the ground for them, leaving them there for later. 

“If you feed them, they’ll never leave.”

You can’t help the laugh that leaves you. As much as he complains about the birds, you think, if his constant curiosity about the birds’ day-to-day lives was anything to go by, that he’d miss the two fluffy creatures if they were to ever find new nesting grounds. You turn back to the balcony door with a cheeky grin. “I have experience with things that don’t leave after you feed them. You enjoyed dinner a little too much.”

It’s hard to see in the fading light but Xavier blushes and brings a shy grip to the back of his neck. “Last I checked you moved in with me.”

That silences you. There’s no denying his observation, and you fail to notice him getting closer until he reaches his hand out to help you up. You willingly reach out, hand sinking into his touch as he lifts you to your feet. 

The coolness of your palms touching slowly births a lingering warmth. The soft squeeze around your hand makes it hard to let him go but eventually you must. Otherwise, you might say things that are better kept to yourself as you walk back into the house and close the sliding door behind you. 

With a pounding heart, you retire to your room early.

This room is a little different from the master room at your old apartment. The wall color is a little different brighter and it’s smaller. Luckily, you made the space work pretty easily by migrating half your plushie collection into Xavier’s room, checking like a dutiful mother to make sure he was treating them right and placing them with love should they roll off his dresser.  Sighing, you change into slightly more comfortable clothes, choosing a random pair of soft shorts and a tank top to wear before climbing into bed. It’s ten when you finally let your eyes slip shut, and it's around eleven you feel someone touching you.

Your eyelids are surprisingly heavy; you can barely pry them open enough to see the wisp of grey-brown hair shadowing medium-blue eyes. You don’t protest as you feel his fingertips brush along your waist or when his knee digs into the mattress, sinking you towards his weight.

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what he wants. You raise your arm enough to let your fingertips greet the curve of his chin in silent acceptance. Slowly, you drop your hand and squeeze his bicep. Like a good little soldier, he follows the order to fall into the bed with you. 

The most comfortable position is to slot your arm on top of his as he hugs your waist, props his leg on top of yours, and spoons your back. There’s absolutely zero space between your lower halves; and if he notices how you, with a small amount of shame, subtly shift and push yourself back on him a little more, he doesn’t say as he lolls his head against the curve of your neck while his incredibly light exhaling on your skin comforts you after a long day. 

With a flutter of your eyelids, you slowly slip back into sleep with the happiness that comes with being roommates with your crush. 

It’s times like these that make you think maybe he loves you. It’s also times like these that make you forget that despite all of the endearing things about him and despite how much you care about him, you don’t truly know a lot about him.

Xavier has always been a man with a lot of secrets. You’ve known this since you first met him asleep in the forest. It’s true that you once accepted the fact you’d never learn all his secrets but that was before whatever this abnormal relationship that the two of you found yourself in. 

Even after living together for more than two months now, you still had no idea where he would go when he would sneak off in the middle of the night. You didn’t question where he goes anymore, you found that he wouldn’t give you a straight answer to save his life. You merely stayed up until you heard the sound of the door opening or the warped echo of air being sucked into a vacuum, indicating he teleported inside. 

So, when you wake up at two in the morning, finding yourself alone and the side of the bed where he laid mere hours ago already cold, you’re not surprised.

Getting out of bed, you slip on your slippers and drag your feet to the balcony. It’s a familiar situation when you collapse into the swing chair, with nothing but the cold and the chirping of the birds to keep you company until he undoubtedly returns with his body hosting a family of fresh wounds.

It’s incredibly frustrating because you love him and seeing him hurt, without you having been there to prevent it, drives you crazy. You wonder why he won’t tell you, and your heart sinks, as quickly as a stone cast in a lake, with the idea that maybe you were the only one thinking that your relationship meant more than it did. Because even after all this time, you still aren’t close to him in the way you want. 

Clenching your fists, you shove your eyes against them. It was all so infuriating when he ran off to fight Wanderers or whoever and left you all alone to overthink and worry about him like some helpless house plant. It was enough to make you want to cry as the strange foreboding sense of losing him begins to echo inside of you, making you nauseous.                                                                                 There’s only one way to get rid of this feeling. Taking in a deep breath, you settle to give him a piece of your mind about sneaking off so much and also to bite the bullet to confess your feelings. 

It was only a matter of waiting for him to actually return home and to get your heightened nerves to stop firing in every direction in the meantime. 

By the time you heard the door to the apartment creaking open, you’d nearly fallen asleep in the wicker swing chair. You swallow down the bitter taste of fear, ignoring the tumultuous waves it makes when it hits your stomach. You’d never get anywhere if you didn’t face him. 

Carefully, you hop up from your seat and make slow strides into the apartment. It’s still dark in the house; you hadn’t bothered to turn on the lights earlier. Yet Xavier carries a lightness around him, mostly imagined by yourself, that makes him easy to spot in the darkness. 

For a moment, things seem normal as he takes a few stiff steps forward. Suddenly, he falls forward, the white of his uniform nearly a blur with how fast he collapses onto the sofa, but it is nothing compared to the speed at which you rush to his side. 

You call his name, press two fingers to his throat, and let your eyes slip closed with a desperate concentration as you search for his pulse behind the blaring red of his collar. 

It’s a gradual pace, averaging twenty beats a minute and slowly rising. For anyone else, you’d immediately rush them to the hospital. For Xavier, that number is a relief. 

You hold your hand to your pounding heart, practicing deep measured inhales to calm it. It appears he fell asleep as soon as he entered the room, with only enough awareness to kick off his shoes at the door. 

It looks like your lecture will have to be postponed for another day. 

You’re thankful for all the training you had to take to become a hunter because it takes an enormous amount of effort to throw one of his arms over your shoulders and drag him to his bedroom. You make a mental note to never let him question your ability to carry him again as you sit him on the bed and shuffle off his uniform jacket, leaving him only in his pants. 

In a tender motion, you gently cup his face and examine him. Dirt cakes his face; and when you brush it away, there’s a small cut on his cheek. It hits you again just how reckless and secretive he can be, echoing with a bitter thought that he didn’t bring you again. The only bright spot is the little cut is his only injury this time. 

Laying him on his back, you leave for only a moment to get a warm washcloth and an adhesive from the bathroom. It’s a blue band-aid with a cartoonish pink bunny on it, something a kid would love and has probably been collecting dust in the drawer longer than you’ve been alive. 

It takes all the seriousness out of your body when you return, clean his face off, and place the colorful bandage on his cheek. It’s hard to believe this narcoleptic pretty boy was the strongest member of the Hunters Association. 

“I didn’t think when we moved in together I was going to become a babysitter,” you commented with a little huff and poke of his cheek. “You’re terrible at taking care of yourself. Can’t cook. Can’t stay awake. Can’t tell someone when you’re going out. I bet you didn’t even lock the door when you came in. …What if a Wanderer floated in after you and trampled all the flowers, or did you just not want to leave any for me tomorrow?”

You know your complaints are falling on deaf ears as he cuddles up to his pillow without a care in the world. But if you didn’t complain, you’d get depressed instead. Dropping to your knees, you sit on the floor and prop your elbow on the bed to get a better look at him. 

He looks so peaceful.

There’s no tension, no crease to his expression. It’d be easy to mistake him for a normal young man if it weren’t for the strong humming of his Evol tickling at the wall of your resonance.

“I’ll let you sleep, but you’re getting it in the morning! I expect answers. Otherwise, I won’t cook breakfast for you,” you attempt to sound threatening in your words with every poke to his cheek a not-so-silent promise to follow through. “I’ll take my missions with the new recruit all the ladies at work gossip about. And the next time I get a snack shipment, I’m letting Jeremiah have first pick!”

With one last prod to his face and no reaction otherwise, you stop your demands and sit back on your legs. 

Bit by bit, you feel your energy dissolving. It’s no use. It’s all empty threats. You’ll probably not cook for a few days, eat in front of him too, at least until he gives you those puppy eyes, and you’ll fold just like origami paper. You’ll still save him the snack you know he likes even if you allow Jeremiah first pick of the rest. And you’d never be interested in the new recruit or anyone else. 

Xavier can be distant and formal. For others, his hyper-independence was evident. Taking on missions alone and avoiding group settings is just the way Xavier’s personality works. He’s reliable and gets along with everyone at a surface level and he’s known to go out of his way to help others without seeking validation for it so it never ruffled any feathers when he goes off on his own or rejects an invitation to drink with the others after work. 

They didn’t see. They didn’t see how easy it was to care about him. They appreciate him but they weren’t aware of how intensely and passionately he could feel when he unfurls that independent nature. How he always quietly adjusts his dominant foot to point your direction whenever a Wanderer appears. How his voice drops and his touch becomes the smallest bit more graceful and careful when he sees you upset. How sweetly he looks when he sleeps.

It makes your resolve crumble and your heart squeeze, something only he can do without even being awake to know it. 

“You’re lucky I like you,” you mumble to him. 

As you lean closer, you easily ignore the stirring in your gut that tells you to stop. 

The bandage is a little rough against your lips as you seize the chance to kiss him. It’s a short and small thing, much more delicate than your prodding from earlier because you want to indulge the romantic in you. You want him to somehow sense the feelings cultivated in your heart over the past few months though impossible when he’s asleep.

You don’t let it last long. Instead, the desperate urge to feel his heat against you spurs you to rest your forehead against his cheek. It’s warm and soft, and the faint scent of pine trees of the no-hunt zone fills your nose. You savor being this close to him, allowing yourself to indulge in it until the heat on your skin starts to match his, and you finally let him have peace for the night.

With no need to remain in his room, you stand and pivot towards the door, wondering how you’ll manage to grasp any form of sleep tonight. However, you don’t make it two steps before there’s a tug at your arm.

You yelp as you’re pulled towards the bed while the shock has you stumbling forward into it. The hand leaving your arm in favor of grasping around your wrist stops you from falling completely but your knees have already buckled. You’re left nearly a head under him when he finally swings his legs over the side of the bed and shifts into a full sitting position. This position is oddly familiar. When you uncertainly force your eyes up to meet his face, this vulnerable angle becomes unmistakable.  

His voice is husked and rasped from sleep, sending a chill up your spine when paired with the swirling shadows darkening his blue eyes under his hooded lids and dark lashes. That’s the look of a predator, of the association’s strongest hunter, and you face the inkling realization that you’re the prey. 

Nervously, you begin to divert your eyes. He takes a page out of your own playbook and reaches under your chin to guide your sight back to him as you fight not to whimper at the pressure of his thumb pushing down as if he wants to part your lips. It isn’t until now that you notice how close you are to his lap and how another few inches would drop you to your knees.

“Why worry about Wanderers following me home when you’re so much scarier.”

“What do you mean?” 

Memory has never been your friend. This though is the first time you’ve forgotten how to breathe when his fingers completely close around your wrist. His hold is firm, preventing you from wringing your way out of his grasp, but it doesn’t hurt.

He might as well take that grasp and use it to squeeze your heart instead when he brings your hand to his face. You’re unsure what he’s planning; the awkwardness of the situation makes your fingers straighten and twitch away as he holds your hand closer to his face. Sensing your trepidation, he closes the last of the distance instead by tilting his head into your hand with the same affection as always as he lets your fingertip brush against the silly little bunny bandage. 

The familiarity of the motion puts your heart a little more at ease but not enough to bring your breathing back to you as he mumbles, “I don’t remember giving you permission to kiss me.”

Your lips part with a silent puff while your brows push forward, highlighting the confusion in your mind onto your face. He takes advantage of the moment to nuzzle your hand. It’s a notion you can’t appreciate as his words finally sink into your mind and reform into a horrifying conclusion.

“…You were awake the whole time.”

He chuckles so easily at the dry peep that echoes from you, the rivet of that warm sound collects in your palm and makes your face scalding hot. You didn’t face a burning heat like this even when fighting one of those flame dragons. All the while, Xavier was laughing at you…

“Not the whole time.”

With your head catching up, you find enough of yourself again to actually glare at him and smack his shoulder. “That’s not the point!”

With another display of strength, he locks your other wrist, pulls you up, and then snatches you into him. Luckily, you’re able to flatten your palms against his chest to brace yourself. His heart as well as his face is unnervingly calm compared to your own organ that’s currently orchestrating its escape from your chest, battering your ribcage even harder as you unconsciously stretch your fingers over his naked skin. 

You don’t like this. This bullying, which you only describe as such because you can’t think of a word more fitting for the way he’s treating you, is too one-sided. 

“It was on the cheek,” you argue with a steeled voice. You fake the confidence to stare him back down, choosing to trade your determination to confess to him tonight in exchange for preserving your pride. “It was friendly.”

To your satisfaction, your declaration of war makes him the one to pause this time. His eyes widen and there’s a quiver in those waves of blue that he hides by glancing down and away. 

“…Is that what it was?”

You nod. “I wasn’t…going to do anything else.”

Xavier smiles, shaking his head, and there’s a new determination in his eyes that causes your teeth to clench down on the inside of your cheek as he leans closer. 

“In that case, is it okay to return the favor?”

He doesn’t give you the time to answer. He’s already closing the distance, his dark lashes already fluttering, and his lips already puckering to kiss you as you’re squeezed flushed against him, only your palms stopping your chest from colliding with his. 

“Wait!”

Hearing your disapproval, he pauses, but that cheeky grin still doesn’t dissipate. 

“What's wrong?” he asks with a sigh. You’re sure it’s not a true question. “Am I not allowed to give you a friendly kiss as well.”

The implications make your stomach twist while your thighs squeeze together pathetically with the sudden throbbing of arousal that spikes through you as you tumble further and further into this rabbit’s trap.

“I—that’s!”

“So, you were misbehaving,” he concludes from your sheepishness. “I guess that means I need to punish you instead.” He breaks his hold around one of your wrists to ghost his fingertips along your cheek and down your neck until all you can do in response is breathe out a moan, much to his surprise given by the rise of his eyebrows and the slight dust of pink on his bewildered face. “…I didn’t think you were that sensitive there.”

Your mind swims with the traitorous thought of wanting to show him where you’re more sensitive dancing in your mind before you can sweep it away. When his fingers dance along your neck again, you whimper and hold in another moan.

“Don’t hold back on my account. You know my most sensitive spot after all, as hunting partners, it only makes sense for me to know yours, right?”

You can hardly think of a response to that. It’s true. You know his biggest weaknesses and as you come to terms with the situation you run your thumb over the plump inside of your thigh hesitantly. It takes you almost an entire minute to decide on what you want to say, and you don’t notice his hold on your wrist weakening.  

“My weakness—” 

Suddenly, your arm drops back to your side.

“I’m kidding,” Xavier states; the small smile he normally wears comes back to his face as you look up at him with wide eyes. “I was only curious as to what your reaction would be.”

The tension in the air wanes and buries itself in your heart. The embarrassment clings to every cell living in you, unshakeable as you try to keep a brave face. “You’re cruel.”

“Am I? You were the one touching me, all the while promising to run off with some rookie,” he reminds you. 

“I wouldn’t have to if you didn’t—you’re so frustrating,” you scream at him, and this is the first time he appears to take you seriously all night.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes out, with less teasing and more concern. He wraps an arm around your waist. His legs slot between yours, leaving your knees to collide with the plush of the bed as he hugs you tighter and tighter until you’re nearly seated in his lap. “Don’t be mad. I only thought—” 

“Xavier?”

“Did you really mean it then?” he redirects. He snakes his other arm around your waist, this time when he holds you it feels…weak, and his pursed lips and narrowed eyes hold back a troubled emotion. “That it was in a friendly way?”

Your breath hitches at the swirl of his thumbs nervously circling the small of your waist. Nervously, he waits for an answer you long lost in the rapids of the constantly changing tides of the last few minutes. 

“If you meant it…if you truly wanted to kiss me,” he pauses, trying to find his voice. The one to tell you that you’re all he thinks about. “Then you should have woken me up.” His face holds a serene glow that completely enraptures you as he looks up at you. “I wouldn’t have rejected you,” he swore.

He loved you so much it ached. Moving in together should have been enough to prove it. He guesses not; because when he thinks you want him back, you’re so hesitant to accept. Even now, you’re unable to respond. 

This cycle has become painful, even for someone as patient as himself, the wait when you’re this close to him is agonizing. So, he decides now to be the one to end this circle the two of you found yourself in with one decisive motion. 

He tests the waters, not knowing if he’ll swim or drown, but he has confidence in his ability to read your personality and actions as he cups the back of your head and pulls you in for a kiss. 

Your mind empties immediately, your body on autopilot when it registers the warm, silky skin of his lips on yours. Closing your eyes, you willingly tumble and fall into the taste of him, chasing after it when he breaks away. 

“There. We’re even,” he says, but to you, that’s far from the truth. You’re far from even after all the heartache and sleepless nights he’s been putting you through, after all the push and pull that left you aching and wanting both in your heart and between your thighs. 

The self-satisfied smile on his face quickly fades as you grope his shoulders, digging your nails in like you’re afraid he’ll escape. Your knees press to the top of the bed as you plant yourself more onto his lap. He braces his hands on your hips to catch you as you run your hand into his hair and crane his head back, so he has to look you in the eye.

His ears pinken at your sudden brazenness, but it doesn’t reflect in his voice as he smiles at you. “Are you trying to get more?” 

“Am I being too greedy?” you ask. He chuckles at the jut of your lips and the pleading eyes before you press another demanding kiss to the corner of his lips. 

Xavier moans from his throat as he latches onto your jaw to redirect your kisses to his lips. Kissing him is nearly maddening, the twitch of his muscular thighs under your ass making your mind hazy. With one hard squeeze at your hips, he catches up to the zealousness of your kisses. 

His tongue pokes and prods at your mouth. However, he doesn’t need much permission to keep going as you open your mouth wider. His mind skips and lags at just how quickly your mouth overtakes the slick appendage. It leaves him more than a little out of breath and flustered with the rate your mouths keep parting and meeting, tongues desperately searching and licking the inside your mouths as if this is the first meal you’ve had in weeks.

You’re hungry to memorize each other despite having all the time in the world now to do just that. When the two of you finally indulged enough and earned enough satisfaction, you’re able to calm down and readjust the pace. 

“I think we’re both greedy,” he jokes about the both of you before sliding his tongue back into your mouth. This time he’s slower as he presses down on your tongue, causing your teeth to lightly graze over the top of his.

There are too many sensations going on for you to keep up. The way your breasts hug his hard chest has you feeling sensitive while the heat seeping from his tongue stroking in your mouth has your stomach bundled in tight knots that won’t know release until he’s inside of you. 

Dreams were nothing compared to this. Nights filled with nothing but inappropriate thoughts of him turn into nightmares at the slim chance of having to face them again should this go wrong. 

Impatiently, his fingers curve into the hump of your ass to anchor you and encourage you to grind on his lap, or rather grind against the hard tent brazenly making its presence known with each hurried roll of your hips.

You whine from the separation of your sexes when he begins to lift you up, but your complaints quickly die in your throat. They’re replaced by a squeal as he flips you and your back bounces on the mattress.  

Xavier climbs over you, his face flushed, breath ragged, and overall, he’s just absolutely beautiful to you. Reaching up, you cup his cheek and play with the ends of his hair, unable to recall the last time you’ve felt this high. 

“Xavier,” you whisper breathlessly as you swoop his bangs back to see more of his handsome face and save it to memory. “What are we?”

Xavier tilts his head, furrowing his brow at your question, and there’s a second where a ray of doubt breaks through the clouds of lust in his irises. “We’re…whatever you want to be.”

“I want to be with you,” you say. Those words tumble out more effortlessly than you ever thought. 

Xavier overlaps your hand with his, holding on tight as if to prove a point. “You are with me.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I don’t,” he corrects. Then, he dazzles you as he always does, “I want you to tell me so there’s no mistake, and you can’t take it back later.”

You inwardly become embarrassed when it crosses your mind that this is the first time you’ve ever confessed to him without multiple drinks in your system. It’s too late to turn back now that you’ve crossed the Milky Way and landed on the other side. 

But why would you when you’re so close?

“I want to be with you always. Whenever and wherever you are. Whether that’s having fun together or fighting. I-I love you, and—”

“And I love you,” he answers. You’re not sure if you’re jealous or relieved that he can say those three words without hesitation.

“I don’t want anything to be between us. I don’t want any more secrets or hidden things. I’m tired of this. I just want to be real, more than partners or roommates or whatever other title that isn’t boyfriend and girlfriend.”

“Okay,” Xavier agrees as easily as he agreed to be roommates with you in the first place. 

“Okay?”

“I want that too,” he agrees as he repositions himself on top of you and his lips curve into a small smirk, “girlfriend.”

You’re accustomed to the finicky organ known as your heart tightening with pain when you’re overwhelmed; this time when it skips a beat, it’s welcomed. Smiling, you gaze up at him as he releases a slow, strained breath. It’s validating to know he’s been just as nervous as you.

Everything suddenly becomes full force again when his knees move to either side of your legs while he pins your hands above your head in one tight fist. His teeth nip at your earlobe, and his free hand gropes at your breast, fingers outstretching to fully take it in his grasp. Wet kisses burn on your throat, each one firing off a rapid signal to arch your back. 

“Slow down,” you whine before cutting it off with a moan as he hits a particular delicate spot. The discovery spurs him on, like a pet with a new toy, and he bites your nape once again causing your hips to jerk. With a burning desire building in your stomach at every touch, you pitifully hug your thighs together to try to ease it. “I didn’t get a chance to absorb all that,” you tell him, mostly to get some time to catch up. It backfires wonderfully as he grips onto the bottom of your tank top.

“I have a better way to help you understand.”

The sheets shift with his movement, your lower half dipping towards him as if he holds his own gravitational field. He settles between your legs and strokes against you with one slow, languid rock. It instantly makes you throb. It’s painful how hard you clench over absolutely nothing, panties gathering the lust that’s dripping from you.  

You simultaneously hate and love him for causing this need that’s bubbling inside you. 

Large hands press your shirt further up your torso. “Arms up,” he demands softly, which you have no problem obeying, and he quickly lifts your shirt over your head.

He lowers his hands to hold at your waist, and they fall still on you as he takes in your naked skin. You’re not privy to his thoughts. The silence of the room feels defean-ing now that your needy gasps of air aren’t filling it.

He pauses, eyes taking you in as you raise your eyebrows at his hesitancy. Xavier smiles, mumbling out, “Just thinking where to start.”

Xavier smiles at you so tenderly. Everything about him is incredibly soft on first appearance. He has big blue puppy eyes, he prefers white, cozy clothes, and his voice is just as gentle as his appearance. Everything about him is soft except for his hands. 

Those are hardy and battle-honed, worn with calluses built up with every swing of the sword he’s taken since he was a child, enough of them to slay thousands of Wanderers over the years. 

They drag.

Oh, they drag so dangerously slow over your skin, dipping into the pudge of your stomach and highlighting a small circle in the warm, buzzing glow of his Evol. The rays shine gold over your flesh, shimmering brightly in the dark of the room. 

“Here,” he states before hunting down another spot on your torso. A beauty mark, like a beacon, earns the sharp eyes of a hunter. He zones in on the vulnerable location, creating a golden target. “Maybe here.”

You squirm with every mapped spot he creates. “Xavier.”

The residue of his power leaves your skin humming; you’re overly aware of each spot he highlights with his power. You like to think your senses would still be heightened regardless of this little game. After all, you’ve been wanting him to touch you forever.

Every night next to him felt like torture, being unable to touch him more than a hug when all you could feel on your back was his hard chest, his arm tight around your waist, and the outline of his cock against your ass as he sighed in your ear.

It runs through your head that he must have put more thought into touching you than you assumed as he continues to stripe lines over the top of your thighs right under your night shorts, making your breath heavy in your throat. You’re no longer sure if he’s marking you to tease you, to track what parts of your body he’s claimed for himself, or to simply make you laugh from the humming of his Evol tickling you like fuzzy static on an old tv screen. Even as he smiles at your shallow giggles, there’s no denying the aura of possession radiating from him that makes you antsy when he finally presses his finger to your sternum.

“Let’s start here,” he says followed by a soft hum as he tattoos a line straight between your breasts, leaving you highlighted in slowly fading graffiti.

“About time you decided,” you say with an playfully exaggerated roll of your eyes. He cocks his head at you with a sly smile.

“I can’t help if I want to touch all of you,” he murmurs. Any response you had ready dies when he licks the encircled zone of your shoulder then swiftly to the notch of your throat, drawing a moan out of you that you didn’t think you were capable of until you met him.

Tilting your head, you allow him more room to work as he kisses your chest. His warm tongue slips through the line he marked, his nose dragging against you as he litters your engorged skin with kisses. 

“More,” you beg. Who was he to keep you waiting any longer?

He slips a fingerpad over the tip of your nipple, gently pressing down and then rolling it. It does nothing to satiate you. Satisfaction keeps escaping your grasp, the goalpost of what’s enough moving further out of reach with every pinch and pull of your pebbling nipples. Chasing it makes you brash, and you give a hard push to the back of his head. 

Just as you want, he spoils you. He bites and nips the supple skin, drawing out soft pleas from your angelic lips. When he finally graces you with the slick, velvety lap of his tongue on your pert nipple, you mewl and arch. His lips are a little rough after being out all night, his hunger for you more palpable than ever as he gropes harder and sucks at your wet skin. 

Your aching pussy throbs with every brush of his clothed cock. Your patience drains more and more as you crave something to fill you. It isn’t until he switches sides and gently nips and suckles around your other teat that you realize he’s been fingerprinting you with his Evol, the polka dots slowly fade away each time he adjusts his hand to knead your breast.  

“You’re still being cruel,” you manage between moans. 

“I think I’m being very fair,” he reasons, recapturing your lips to silence your complaints, and it works as your mind keeps repeating when his tongue makes a temporary reservation back in the confines of your mouth. 

When he parts with you again, he cements it with a soft kiss then another. He keeps peppering them on you so fast that you almost miss the way his tongue darts over your bottom lip before his teeth bite down. 

Xavier sighs between his kisses, each one adding more pressure, turning from loving, adoration-filled into needy, heavy smooches.

“Wanted.”

Another kiss that leaves you whimpering.

“To.”

He fondles your chest again, alternating between rolling and pinching your sensitive, puffed nipple then grasping your bare tits in his hands, molding and kneading them.

“With you.”

With your thighs closing at his waist, you curve your back and meet the sloppy buck of his hips. There’s a rush of excitement leaking from you when his kisses trail back over your breasts, hitting the tiny ring of bite marks he seared on you before tracing across the targets of light decorating your belly. 

“So bad.”

Skin on fire, legs spread wide to accommodate his chest as he sinks lower to press wet kisses to your stomach, you call out to him. “Xavier, baby,” you whisper and brush his hair to get his attention. And does he give it to you when his eyes flick up to look at you from under the grey tuffs of his hair.

Your mouth goes dry at the sight. 

You bring your finger to your lips, not only to pry them open so you can speak but also because you need to bite on it. Otherwise, the surge of lust in you at the sight of his head so close to your cunt and the back of your thighs resting on his broad shoulders would cause you to cum right there. 

“My most sensitive spot…is my legs…”

It doesn’t take long for him to catch on, and he quirks his eyebrows up at you with false concern. He lowers his head to kiss your stomach again, this time noticeably closer to your mound. “Are you sure you want to tell me that in this situation? It isn’t wise for the prey to put themselves at a disadvantage.”

“I said no secrets,” you remind him, curling a finger to beckon him back up. Inwardly, you curse that he decides to bring your legs with him by keeping them propped up on his shoulders. Somehow, you manage to ignore his obvious teasing and poke at the cutesy adhesive still stuck on his face. “If you were listening, you should know you’re still in trouble for sneaking off so much without telling me.”

“It wasn’t on purpose,” he tells you, a layer of remorse riding his explanation. “I wasn’t expecting to go anywhere.”

Amused, you shake your head at how boyish he sounds as he defends himself while he pulls off that wide and pleading look to bolster his cause. Even with your amusement, you’re not willing to let him off just yet. Sternly, you tap his cheek again. 

“That’s not going to work this time.”

Pouting, Xavier holds onto your hand, stopping your playful jabs. “Please give me a chance to lighten my sentence, Miss Hunter, it was unintentional,” he negotiates with a kiss on your palm. The sincerity in his request eases your heart enough to allow him a little wiggle room, or perhaps it’s the slick trailing more between your folds. 

“You only got until morning to make a case for yourself.”

“I’ll make you forget by then.” He snatches up your ankle towards his face, a much more pleasant position than your last, as your muscles were starting to ache from having your knees pushed to your face. 

He caresses your ankle, pressing an airy kiss. The little bump of his nose against the ball of your ankle tickles, making a giggle cascade from your lips as you slide lower with the pull of your leg.  

“Silly,” he mumbles before shuffling off your shorts. Your underwear comes off with more of a fight, the stickiness soaked into it causing the dainty fabric to cling lewdly to your skin and outline to the shape of your cunt. 

You don’t often hear Xavier curse but that’s what happens along with his tongue rolling over his upper lip when he catches the image. He reaches out and his fingers twitch, threatening to curve against the spreading stain in your panties but he resists and hooks his fingers into the waistband. He takes his sweet time watching the doused material peeling from you with thin strands of cum sticking to it.

It takes him more effort than he’d like to admit to resist diving straight in. Instead, he keeps it slow, sensual, as much for his sake as yours as he skims his lips up your calf.

He does the same with your center, carefully pressing two fingers against you as he holds your leg up on his shoulder. His mouth stays on your inner thigh, but his eyes are entirely locked on his fingers and the way they effortlessly collect your cum and slip between your lips with barely a push. You can feel his breath shudder out against you before he forces it down with a bite of your thigh but that does nothing to hide the way his entire body tenses when his fingers slip from your clit all the way to your clenching hole. 

It does nothing good for your ego or your sanity to think how normally calm and collected Xavier is losing his composure just by touching you. How he’s so obviously turned on when you haven’t nearly returned as much as he’s been giving you. 

He presses his hands at the crook of your thighs, pushing your legs further apart, and quenches himself between your legs. His name leaves you in one low drawn-out sigh. Sure, you were baiting him when you told him your weakness, but you weren’t expecting him to abuse the knowledge so readily. 

He held your legs blood cuttingly tight to keep you from squirming away from his wriggling tongue, and by the moan that reverberates from his chest and the strong jerk against the mattress when your juices hit his tongue, you think he would only be satisfied if you crushed his head between your straining thighs. When he suckles your clit; when his voice, muffled, hits your pussy; when his biceps tighten around your legs as if encouraging you to do so, and when his eyes meet yours with a silent demand, you know that’s exactly what he wants.

At the plunging of his fingers in you, you break down, catch his head in a vice-like grip, and push him into you. Your heart flutters and the remaining butterflies in your stomach migrate away at the growl he lets out. Your walls happily clench around those thick fingers, your dripping hole making it easy and smooth work to pump in and out of you. You’re not sure when he decides he would rather feel your muscle tightening around his tongue instead, but you can only respond with the tilt of your head back into the sheets and the stroke of your heel on his bare back when it happens. 

The only thing better is his palm grinding down on your clit, alternating between slow rotations and rough sporadic grinding that has your toes curling and your eyes glossing with the buildup of tears.

“You’re too loud,” he comments yet he doesn’t stop, in fact, he presses down harder, making you whine. “You’re going to wake the neighbors.”

“Since when have you cared what the neighbors think?” you barely manage to whimper out. 

“I’m not worried about them. I just don’t want anyone else to hear what only I should,” he remarks, lapping up the juices spilling down your legs.

His confession is a surprise to you. You never took him to be so possessive. But if that possessiveness is what kept his tongue swirling on your swollen clit and an intense moan escaping your lips then you didn’t mind. 

However…

His fingers weren’t enough anymore. 

Choosing to surprise him, you decide to turn the tables on him. You jerk your legs, catching him off guard but not enough to tip him over. He looks at you with concern. It doesn’t stop you from trying again with extra force this time until you can weaken his grasp and force him down on his back. 

Having the world’s strongest hunter under you was only something you could dream of—first as a rival and now as a lover. The adrenaline has you tunnel-visioned as you straddle his stomach, your soaked cunt making a waterboard out of his abs, which Xavier has also picked up on if the dusky pink on his cheeks is anything to go by.

You grab his hands, gripping tight to regain his attention. Xavier looks taken back especially when your fingers interlock his and pin them back. Whether he’s shocked or curious you don’t know, and you also don’t ask to borrow his power. 

“You’ve been having too much fun,” you tell him as you check to make sure your finger is sufficiently coated with light. “For my turn, I’ll attack here and here,” you whisper, marking off his chest and drawing a line across his neck.

There’s a hint of worry finally when he sees you’re aiming for his weak spot. “If you’re trying to teach me the best spot to kill Wanderers, I already know.”

“More like the best spots to defeat a Xavier,” you remark, flattening your palm over his heart, finding your own thumping when you verify that you finally managed to raise his heart rate to the levels of a normal human.

“You’re pretty forward today.” Xavier reaches out to hold your hips and cocks his head at you with an inquisitive glance. “Are you always this easy to excite or is it because of me?” 

You feel your face heat at his question. As if he didn’t already know the answer. No one else could make you like this. Needy. Shy. Aroused. Flustered. Confused. Infatuated and in love more than you’ve ever been. 

Your eyes soften. “And if I said it was you?”

“Then, you can use me all you want,” he confesses and gently coaxes you back to sit on his hard cock. You smoothly slide your hands to his shoulders, rotating loving strokes into his fair skin before you stop to free his cock from his pants.

It springs readily into your palm, so responsive. You reward him by letting him have a little taste of you. He tries to hide the hitch of his breath as if he could hide any reaction from you right now. It’s so hard to get him to react to anything, and your brain won’t let you miss a single moment as you sit back onto his lap and grind.

His cock slides between your lips, so big that you can feel it stroking you fully, his swollen, dribbling head making you whimper whenever it bumps your clit. 

“You, you’re so—” he begins, his eyes flitting from the gentle shake of your tits to his cock glistening between your folds, but he loses his voice to a low whimper when you increase your pace. It’s not on purpose but you can’t help yourself; you’re aching for him just as much as he is for you. “Hah, please...” 

His cock is leaking onto him with each sleek thrust, a little pool of precum glistening on his belly as your hips buck. It makes your stomach twist and your insides twitch to see him so excited for you.

“Not yet,” you tell him, brushing fingers across the length of his throat. His mouth parts with a croak that plasters a crooked smile on your face.

His eyebrows knit, and he frowns as you decide to tease him a little by slowing your strokes while your nails continue to follow the thick vein protruding from his neck as he desperately holds down his whines. 

“And you call me the cruel one.”

He was gorgeous under you. Beautifully flushed and sheened with sweat. His lips were so close to quivering each time his swollen head was swallowed back under your heat. It’s strange how his pitiful expression actually excites you, leaving you wetter and funneling this cycle of him repeatedly scrunching his face before relaxing it with a moan. 

“Please,” he asks again, this time more politely, pleadingly, and downright cutely. He knows what he’s doing because you decide to take pity on him when he gazes at you. “Please let me have you?”

It takes only a second for you to reposition yourself and hover over him. There’s a split hesitation when it registers that you’re actually going to have sex with him and how large he actually is with his cock standing tall and the tip kissing at your entrance.  You press downward anyway.

The stretch is both painful and pleasurable, straining your nerves as you lower. The wince on your face is accompanied by a hiss on your lips. However, Xavier is there again to catch you.

“Let’s take our time,” he instructs.

You nod, slowly thrusting halfway onto him. Each rise and fall of your hips coating him with your cream little by little makes it a bit easier to sheath him each bounce. 

“Good girl,” he whispers soothingly. Face constricting, he bites down on his lip to hold in a weak groan. It’s not your fault that the praise made your walls flutter and tighten.

When you finally suck him in completely, your eyes roll. 

“There you go,” he continues. He slides his hand into one of yours, encouraging you to hold onto it as you slowly and pointedly follow the curve of his cock, “Just like that,” he rasps out.    As you take him in fully, your pussy reaching his lap and pushing against his balls, you find it hard to concentrate on the exact words leaving him.

You take a minute to sit with him fully sheathed inside of you, allowing your stretched core to get more accustomed to his cock and also for the high of joining with him to cool off. Otherwise, you’d lose control.

You feel so full. It’s a wonderful sensation, and the pleasure increases tenfold when you lift your hips then have him stretch you again.

Rubbing your fingertips into the back of his palm, you lift and slam back onto him again, causing a ragged groan from you both that ricochets off the walls of the room. It isn’t until now that you recognize how bad you’ve been needing this.

Needed him. 

You’re still nowhere near understanding why this need is inside of you. Anyone can give you pleasure, and he’s not the first, but nothing quite matched the warmth overtaking you when his cock pistons and rubs against your nerves as you ride him. 

The thought that Xavier was right about fate being written in the stars barely breaks through the thick fog of arousal clouding your brain. The heat spurs you to bounce harder to meet his jerking thrusts. 

He sighs under you; the pressure on his lower half increases while your eyesight blurs and your head angles back. You’ll both be each other’s undoing at this rate, he thinks, as he watches the beads of sweat accumulating in little shiny droplets on your forehead and on your bouncing chest in a light sheen.

Chasing that desire to see you undone, he pulls you to a halt, burying himself deep inside of you, before pressing his hand to your mound, brushing past the patch of damp hair to zone in on your sticky, swollen clit. 

The instant whine of his name makes him dizzy. Centuries have gone by, and he’s never heard you say his name with such wanton desperation nor seen you grind onto him, stirring his cock in you as if your sanity depended on it.  

His certainly depended on you. Always has especially in the many decades he thought he’d never see you again. That need is even clearer from how sensitive yet eager his cock is to you squeezing around it as you shudder on top of him while keeping an unbearably tight hold on his hand. Your movements come to a near stop except for the occasional rut to prolong the rush of your orgasm. 

The sight of you breaking down on top of him threatens to make his eyes roll back as he squeezes onto your legs for grounding. Your strangled gasp followed by your muscles relaxing tells him that you’re coming down.  

“I take it you’ve finished,” Xavier says with a smirk, and you only have half the mind to swat at his chest like a lazy cat. Your legs burn, your chest unable to fill with enough oxygen to catch your breath. You think you’ll skip the gym tomorrow but Xavier has other plans.

“I’m not finished,” he reminds you. 

You look down at Xavier; you’d been so busy finding your own pleasure, you didn’t realize he hadn’t cum yet. You feel a lingering guilt but he swiftly takes the situation into his own hands.

You’re still too sensitive to fight back as he slides his cock out of you with a wet pop. It takes two swift movements for him to lift you off of him and roll you onto your stomach.

Your chest feels restricted, tight to the mattress as he presses on top of you, his grey-brown hair rubbing your shoulder as he cuddles your back. It’s an affectionate notion, distracting from the pressure in your lower half as he slides off the last of his clothes and thrusts his cock back inside of you. 

You thought you were filled to the brim the first time, yet this angle was different. It felt much tighter, and the slightest shift of his hips had you muffling moans into your arms. 

“I want to hear you,” he sweetly requests, yanking on your hips to raise your ass higher and pull you further away from the muffling effects of the bed. Your fracturing mewls mix into his grunts, both sounds washing out the sloppy, wet paps of his cock pounding into you. 

His hand swoops down your bending back in one long soothing stroke before his head collapses onto you. His grunts are loud, tumbling right into your ear along with the slapping sound of his hips meeting your ass. Your legs feel like jelly, and the rest of your body becomes weightless as your mind only focuses on his cock recklessly burning its way through you.

Xavier’s breath rolls against your back along with his forehead as he buries you under his weight; his grip on your thighs tightens to an unbearable degree, leaving you to wonder if you’ll have marks in the morning. 

You don’t really care if he does when he moans your name and heat fills you, spreading with each sporadic thrust until he finally bottoms out inside you one last time and holds until he completely empties. 

Taking his time to enjoy the sensation, he waits before pulling out of you, making you whimper with the sudden void. Shakily, you collapse back into the sheets and flip onto your back with a sigh. His eyes are still half-lidded as he watches you; he chews briefly on his bottom lip, reminding you of the look in his eyes earlier. 

“Xavier,” you question but he silences you with a kiss, which you tiredly return. His fingertips slide down from your knee to your thigh, and he teases your opening, the mixture of cum making it easy for him to stroke your still spasming pussy. 

Xavier sighs against your lips before moving his kisses to the swoop of your neck. “You’re so beautiful and all mine.”

Your mouth parts with a dry moan as he slides thick fingers over your clit. It starts to ache from his touch but it’s hard to deny him, even as he tortures you with his methodic and precise rotations over the bead.

His name is on your mouth, each syllable heavy on your tongue. You leave garbled gasps in his mouth as he makes out with you while your hand draws down his chest, attempting to make a mental map of every twitching muscle and healed wound on the way down.

Your heart jumps with the twitch of his cock when you wrap your hand around it. There’s going to be no trouble getting him to rebound, you think. He’s already thickening again with the warm strokes of your hand and tracing of your fingers over the slowly beating vein lining the underside of his shaft. 

Xavier doesn’t even let you finish exciting him before he rolls back on top of you and settles his head between your breasts. Between all the cum in between your legs and his half-hard cock, it isn’t as mind-numbing to have him inside you. What is different is to feel him twitching and growing inside you with his renewed thrusts. 

You’re hiccupping by the time he pushes your legs back and starts to hit deep inside of you, leaving the corner of your eyes tearing. You’re overwhelmed with everything. The uncharacteristic amount of energy he possesses as his hips snap into you. How each powerful rock leaves tingles aftershock-ing inside you, ruining your chances to recover before he does it again. The heavy scent of sex mixed with pine overwhelms your nose. His sweaty chest blocks out any light in the room, sealing any notion that you can be distracted by anything other than him as he pushes up your knee towards your chest.

You’re quickly working up to your second orgasm; the painful cramping in your foot tells you it’ll be bigger than the last. You’re right. When you come undone again, it’s with a shrill sob. You’re too out of it to even register when he finishes until he starts kissing your neck again.

He’s still inside you, you realize once your mind finally lands back on earth. His cock is resting in the heat inside you, waiting for him to work the two of you back up again. You know that’s the goal when his thumb gently brushes over one of your nipples again. Your sore insides constrict and strain. You don’t think you could survive a third round. 

“Xavier, please, no more.”

“What’s wrong?” he asks, his voice dry and husky in your ear as he kisses under it. 

“Too much,” you tell him, pushing on his chest to make some space between the two of you.  

“I didn’t catch that,” he coos defiantly. When he notices that you’re being serious, he obediently pulls out of you. His kisses become smoother as he pecks your lips. “What’s wrong? Is it aching?”

You nod then puff your cheeks in frustration when you see the amusement on his face.

“It’s not funny!” you say, holding onto that angry, childish pout until his smile turns sympathetic. 

“You’re right,” he agrees and shifts off you. Quickly, he locates his briefs on the corner of the bed. He steps out of bed and pulls them on. To your surprise, he leaves you, alone and cold.  

“Where are you going?”

Xavier disappears without answering you and only the sound of running water gives you any sort of hint of where he might’ve gone. When he returns, it’s with a rag dangled in his hand. 

“A boyfriend should help clean his girlfriend up after times like this,” he explains and leans over you; he presses the wet cloth between your legs; the rag is incredibly soothing on your bloated skin. It’s a blessing to your sore muscles as he starts to massage and clean you. “It feels better already, doesn’t it?”

“I guess,” you answer pitifully, grumbling a bit because the look on his face still seems like he’s teasing about your neediness. 

“You don’t have to be embarrassed. It’s my fault you’re a little sore.” He’s definitely taunting you, but you don’t have the energy to fight about it. “All done,” he remarks, tossing the rag to a forgotten section of the dresser. He carefully climbs back on top of you, waiting for the moment your hand finds his bicep to guide him down next to you. 

It isn’t the first time he’s been this affectionate, and it won’t be the last time. However, this time feels more special than any time you’ve slept together, and not just because you can feel the stickiness of his sex-clad skin against your naked body. Well, that’s part of the reason.

“Something on your mind?”

“Nothing. I’m really happy,” you explain. 

“If it really makes you that happy, maybe we should do it more often,” he offers, and you pinch his unwounded cheek to punish him. Jumping back, he knocks your hand away and caresses his wounded face. “I’ll need another bandage if you keep doing that,” he complains weakly. 

“You only have yourself to blame!”

Xavier sighs. “You’re always right,” he concedes, more so that he can cuddle you without fighting rather than actually agreeing with you, you fear. 

“I don’t believe you.”

“Are you really doubting your boyfriend?” he asks. Heartbeat skipped, you clamp your mouth shut as he unfolds the blankets over the two of you. 

It’s finally settling back into your mind that the two of you are a couple now. “I’m still…not used to it yet with you being that.”

“You will get used to it the longer we’re together. The same as I will.” Xavier sighs, happily so. “Although, we might run into the same problem again.”

You blink at him. “Why?”

Thoughtful, Xavier hums then explains, “First comes love then comes marriage as they say.”

He catches you off-guard once more. As always, Xavier is forever forging on ahead with little regard for convention. “Aren’t you thinking too far ahead?”

“Maybe,” he agrees but there’s no drop in his confidence as he smiles at you and draws his hand over your hairline. “But I loved you since we met.”

“Xavier, please,” you beg, finding your favorite place to hide your flustered face in the crook of his elbow. 

He can’t help but laugh at you as he curls his arm around you. “Especially that,” he confesses and places one more kiss on the top of your head before inviting you to go to sleep. 

You do, falling asleep against his chest less than thirty minutes later. For him, sleep is elusive for once as he mulls over the day’s events.

The word girlfriend on his tongue is sweet. The idea itself burns wonderfully in his chest, but it isn’t enough. He knows he still needs to wait a bit longer, take his time, your bashful response to his prodding was enough to tell him that it isn’t time yet. It’s hard not to rush when this is the closest he’s ever been to the one thing he truly wants. 

Xavier guesses he’ll still have to rely on his dreams for a little while longer. It’s okay, he tells himself, it’ll work out this time. He’ll find a place to settle with you and have a quiet life, a place where he can see stars. 

And this lifetime, when he asks you to marry him, he hopes you’ll say yes.

[hahaifolded]

141 x POC!GN Intelligence Operative - Ending Things (Long Drabble) Author's Note: Oh this one hurt to write. And I'm not gonna lie - it's going to keep getting worse from here Warnings: MDNI, Angst

After that one night you over did it at the bar, you woke up, hungover and worried that you had done something stupid in front of the 141. But it seemed like things were fine as everything went on as usual the next few weeks. If anything you assumed something happened between them as you sensed some weird tension among them. But you weren't worried, they're the 141. They'll figure it out.

And it seems like they did after that random meeting in Price's office. But as they returned to normal, your relationship with everyone shifted.

It's like these last few months of camaraderie just disappeared. No more "good mornings", "how are you", "any plans tonight" - nothing of the sort. Instead, it's just commands, orders, and the occasional question about intel and reports, but overall nothing too comfortable. Confused by the sudden switch up, you decide to reach out first and figure out what happened.

If you had done something, then the least they can do is be mature about it and tell you. Because that's what teams do.

So with some recently dropped intel, you knock on Soap's door. After hearing him say enter, you walk in and take note of how the sergeant faltered, surprised to see you in his office.

"Hey Johnny-boy, I was wondering if you could help me go through some files we just got?" This was y'all's thing. He's never turned you down before so in your mind, this was foolproof. Or at least, you thought it was.

"If you can't handle some measly reports, you should probably re-evaluate your career choices. I can't always hold your hand when things get hard. I got my own work to do, you know?," he says, eyes still on his paperwork. Annoyance clear in his voice.

Your mouth runs dry. You try to save face and explain that you just value his insight on things. Your face heats up when he looks at you with the most unimpressed eyes. You apologize for wasting his time and quickly leave his office, feeling embarrassed by the interaction.

What you don't see is the way the Scotsman winced when he sees his door close, knowing that you left feeling like a fool.

Things with Soap did not go well, but you try not to dwell too much on his words. You knew that he had his days so if anything, you probably just picked a bad one.

So that's why you approach Kyle next as he always kept his cool when things were rough. If you anyone would listen to you, it would be Kyle. So the next day, you head to his office, lunch in hand, excited to catch up with the sergeant.

Seeing his door open, you stop at the entrance and knock on the door frame. He glances up and asks if you needed anything.

"No, just wanted to check up on you. Maybe see if you had any ideas you wanted to work through before the meeting," you chirp, eyes beaming with joy. Kyle usually workshopped his ideas with you before suggesting them to the team. But it's been awhile. He's probably been busy with reports and all that.

"With you? Not really."

"Oh, I just thought, you know since you usually--"

"Yeah, I know, but honestly what's the point? You've never been out in the field so what would you know?" He shrugs with that last phrase.

While he had somewhat of a point, that didn't mean you were completely useless. The last few months should speak on that. You try to push back, but he doesn't bother to look at you. Realizing he wasn't going to listen, you leave.

But, Gaz does listen. He hears how your steps get further and further away until he hears the distinct sound of your office door closing.

Okay, things weren't looking great. But if there was one constant in your life, it was Ghost. Despite his prickly exterior, you knew he was a softie at heart.

So you look for him at the base's gym, instead of his office, knowing that he was probably getting some reps in during his break. And just like you predicted, you found Ghost at the bench press with some rookies that liked to test your boundaries. But with Ghost nearby, you knew you'd be safe. Now with a gift in hand, you stand in front of the Lieutenant and wait for him to finish.

After a few minutes, he sits up and questions your presence, adding that he didn't think pencil pushers like yourself went to the gym. Ouch, that was uncalled for, but this was part of his shtick... right?

"Good to see you too, Ghost" you quip. He doesn't react. You falter a bit, but you quickly regained your composure. This was Ghost who you were talking to, he wouldn't hurt you. "Remember the other day when you were complaining about the calluses on your hands? Well, I got you some new gloves to see if they could help," you proudly announce as you drop the bag in his lap.

He carefully opens the bag and takes out the gloves. This had to do it. He's probably going to say thank you, maybe even ask you how you been. And that's your way in.

Or it would have been if the sound of fabric tearing didn't fill the air. Right before your eyes, Ghost was tearing a glove right through the middle. He stands up and towers over you, throwing your gift to the ground.

"Honestly if you spent even half of this energy in your actual work, maybe you'd be worth keeping," he spits. You hear the nearby rookies snicker. After staring you down for a few more seconds, he lays back down and starts another set. You don't bother saying anything as the lump in your throat threatens to give you away. You walk out of the gym, shame filling your core.

But with tears blurring your eyes, you fail to notice Ghost quickly grabbing the gloves off the floor.

And now with three failed attempts in figuring out what's wrong, Price calls you into his office for a check-in. During these check-ins, he'd ask you if everything was going well with the team. You really wanted to avoid inconveniencing him with such a trivial matter, but the other three left you with no choice.

You walk into his office, determined for answers. Or at least, were until he asked you to close the door behind him, an action only reserved for when the conversation was serious. After shutting the door, you take a seat, nervous as his usually friendly eyes aren't there to greet you.

With a cold gaze, Price looks you over and begins. "Look, I'm not going to beat around the bush here. Your work on the team has been decent at best." Decent? "It's clear that you're more interested in harassing my men than working alongside them." Harassing? "So if you're actually serious about your future here, I'd recommend you get your priorities straight. Do I make myself clear?"

You sat there dumbfounded. How did you get here? Just a few weeks ago, you were confident in your place on the team, and now you're at risk of losing everything you worked for. How? What caused this sudden-- oh.

The night at the bar. The night you can't remember. You probably crossed a line and despite their best efforts to ignore it, they just couldn't. Whatever you did, it must have been bad, because why else would they switch up on you like this? You obviously messed up.

That's why at the next team meeting, you ask Price if you could say a couple of words. Realizing the second chance they were gifting you, you decide to apologize for your inadequacies, for ever making them uncomfortable, and for overall failing them as a teammate when they never once failed you. With that, you promise to do better from here on out.

You leave that meeting determined to prove yourself once again to the team. While Johnny, Kyle, Ghost, and Price leave feeling horrible for making you feel like the monster here.

But that's what best for the team... right?

Word Count: 1371

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[golden1u5t]

mirrorball | s.r x fem!reader

ꨄ requested: anonymous

ꨄ genre: fluff

ꨄ summary: spencer notices how you put other people before you all the time so he decides to do something special for just you.

"oh- um- here, elle. you can have it." you lowered the mug from your face, passing it to her with a fake smile on your face. you had fixed the last tea bag in the office's kitchen and just as you brung it to your face elle walked in talking about making her a cup of tea, only to see that there was no more. so, like you always do, you offered your cup to her.

"are you sure?" she looked down at the mug and then back at you, biting down on her lip. you shrugged your shoulders and nodded your head, handing the mug to her. "thank you! i owe you!"

elle turned around and walked out of the room, you watched her leave with a smile on your face until you couldn't see her anymore. you sighed and turned around, thinking about how you told yourself that you would stop putting other people before you. it's so hard though, especially when you can't stand the thought of making someone upset.

spencer walked into the kitchen just a few minutes later, immediately noticing the way your shoulders slumped. he glanced over at you as he reached into the cabinet to grab the coffee so he could fix a fresh pot.

"did you get your cup of tea?" he asked as he poured coffee into the filters, putting it into the coffee maker. once he got the maker started, he turned and faced you completely. you glanced up and put a smile on your face as you shook your head.

"no, elle came in wanting some tea but i had already used the last bag so i gave her mine." you shrugged your shoulders and looked down at your hands, you started to pick at the skin around your nails. "it's no problem really."

spencer looks down at you picking at your nails, he wants to reach down and grab your hands to stop you but he decides against. even though he's liked you ever since you stepped foot in the office, he's too shy to make a move. you spare him one last glance before walking out of the kitchen.

+++

spencer get's to work before you, before anyone really, and usually he takes the time to get a head start on his reports but this time is different.

before he went home the day before he stopped by the store to grab you some of your favorite things. pens and a new notepad so that you can doodle when you're bored, two boxes of your favorite tea so that you don't have to share with everyone else for a while, a bag of lollipops to refill the container you emptied by giving everyone else them, and some other things you've mentioned that you liked.

he had everything set up perfectly for when you finally walked into the office, your morning cup of tea in your hands and a smile on your face(which he knew was fake most of the time).

you noticed the basket on your desk and an expression of confusion spread across your face. you set your cup down and looked through the basket, a real smile shining through when you saw all your favorite things.

"did anyone see who left this?" you looked around but everyone just shrugged their shoulders and went back to whatever they were doing. though, you did notice how quickly spencer turned around and how red his face was, you walked over to his desk. "thank you, spence. i- i wasn't expecting it."

"it's no problem, re-really." he refused to look into your eyes but you could see how he got redder every second you stood there. you bit down on your bottom lip and turned on your heels, only getting halfway to your desk before spencer called your name. "would you want- could we- i would like to take you out... on a date. only if you want, of course."

you turned around, barely processing the words that were coming out of his mouth. you never expected spencer reid would be asking you out, in a room full of people nonetheless.

"i would love to."

[ladybracknellssherry]

I see so many posts since the dam broke about NG in which people are lamenting how horrible celebrities and people in power are and asking where we went wrong as a society to let this happen.

The fucked up thing though is that humans have always behaved like this. We just have the internet now.

And please don’t mistake this for resignation or apathy or anything other than disgust.

But I just keep coming back to the point that human beings are capable of truly terrifying, horrible things.

So I feel like we’ve got to remember that most people don’t do terrible things. But we’re all capable of them.

And I don’t fault anyone for being devastated to learn that someone they respected did indeed to terrible things. It would feel wild to call someone foolish or stupid or naïve because their first instinct was to believe that someone is decent. They’re not anything like that other than someone who was lied to.

I actually do think as a society we are in fact getting better about calls for justice in situations like this.

But people who behave like NG…people who do these things…their personalities are a cancer. And we can do what we can to try to prevent things like this from happening. But I don’t think we can stop it all from happening. It’s never going to disappear completely.

But we can continue to listen to victims. And we can continue to be vocal about demanding justice and accountability.

The court of public opinion and the legal system both fail terribly at times, especially in situations like this. Another flaw of human nature, I think.

The “I’ll wait for the legal system to decide” argument isn’t really helpful here. Because SA allegations / abuse are some of the hardest things to prove in a court of law. And there have been legitimate actual cases in which victims have come forward with allegations, there was no evidence to be found/the evidence wasn’t “good enough” and these victims were instead actually CHARGED with filing false reports. So putting all of the onus or faith in the law here just… again… isn’t helpful.

Sometimes the justice can be best served by demanding consequences that aren’t legal punishments. There are petitions to remove NG from his positions as a writer/showrunner in these shows we love.

Sometimes just making sure the word is spread is the push to topple the dominos.

As others have said and continue to say, you can do both terrible and great things. And they don’t cancel each other out. Doing great things doesn’t make the terrible ones any less terrible. Doing terrible things doesn’t make the great things any less great. Two truths can exist at once.

Sure, we can argue that continuing to consume NG’s work is continuing to put money in his pocket. Yeah. But once again, as far as my random internet user opinion.

I experienced some very similar things to what his victims said they experienced in these interviews. And they wrecked my life in no uncertain terms. I’ll never “come back from that” because we don’t. We just keep going forward having to carry that. It doesn’t go away.

But my abusers took so much from me. And the good things I got out of those relationships are made so much more important because of how much suffering they cost.

Sidebar, but that’s something that I see people using in their arguments for why the “abuse” allegations weren’t real or “that bad.” Because the victims went back. Or they continued to stay. Or continued to pursue. Listen. When you go through all of THAT, it is so common to scramble to keep what you perceive are the “good things” you get out of that dynamic/relationship. Or you convince yourself that it’s not as bad as all that. Because, god. “I went through all of that and they STILL LEFT.” “I gave them (they took) all of THAT and I still wasn’t good enough for them.” It’s this survival element where we have to convince ourselves all of that suffering we went through was WORTH IT. Or, the gaslighting gets imbedded and we believe it must have been our fault. “Yes, they treated me badly, but I must have done something to deserve it. They told me it was my fault. Everyone else loves them. I did something wrong.” Yeah. NO.

So if you can separate yourself from that abuser - get far enough away to have the clarity and perspective to finally say “no, that was fucking real what happened. That was abuse. They’re an abuser.” I say, anything “good” you got out of that - take it and fucking run.

NG is a predator at best. And we are all suffering for it. But we got our books and our shows and we found each other in these fandoms. I say take these good things and run. You didn’t cause this. Don’t let him take any more joy from you or anyone else.

[professorcalculusstanaccount]

“Robbie is gone! I’m still here! And I refuse to live in his shadow!”

Rastapopoulos himself may be out of the picture, but his ghost continues to haunt those who were caught in his web.

A collaboration with @aboardthescheherazade using her OC Marlene Katz - an actress Tintin tries to save in Cigars of the Pharaoh!

Five years later and Tintin is baffled to see Hollywood starlet Marlene Katz turn up at his doorstep asking for help. Formerly under the thumb of Cosmos Pictures, Marlene became an unsuspecting witness to Rastapopoulos’ criminal activity and now the mob is after her, seeking to tie up some loose ends. To top things off, she is due to make a public appearance at The Golden Palm, a prestigious film festival. After years of hiding, Marlene is determined to get her acting career back on track, and this film may be her big break.

Tintin is highly suspicious. Chang, on the other hand, is utterly star struck, and after noticing an uncanny resemblance between the two hatches a ridiculous scheme that may finally put an end to this particular problem. It might just work, but Marlene makes the last minute decision to also go undercover, feeling immense guilt over having Tintin and Chang risk their lives for her.

While Tintin is running around in heels and beating up mobsters Haddock is away on a weekend break with Ramo Nash. Before leaving he asked Chang to keep Tintin away from any incidents and to promise not to throw any house parties.

This was my first collab on this blog and I had a lot of fun bouncing ideas off with Vaye. Her blog was one of the first Tintin blogs I followed - definitely check it out, it’s an absolute treasure trove of resources and research! Below are a few notes of stuff we discussed while making this:

- After the Blue Lotus, Marlene breaks away from Rastapopoulos and pulls back from the film industry to lay low, teaching dance classes instead. He keeps trying to come back to her, leaving her exhausted and paranoid. Since Rastapopoulos always considered Marlene to be pretty stupid he never made much of an effort to properly hide his criminal activities from her, but Marlene was able to slowly piece things together...

- This adventure takes place after St. Benezet’s Basement (the boarding school story) and before Call of the Songbird (Tintin Fucks Up and Steals A Whistle). Tintin is still in the grips of trauma from the canon stories. Chang is starting to settle in. Haddock and Nash’s relationship is in full swing, but they are keeping things quiet from everyone else. 

- In some sketchbook comics I did to flesh out ideas there’s hints of Tintin being gay and asexual, his complete lack of interest in Hollywood actresses and his mild irritation of people’s judgements being clouded by crushes! Chang’s attraction to Marlene however, foreshadows his feelings for Tintin later on down the line.

- There’s a role reversal theme going on here. Both Tintin and Marlene are victims of Rastapopoulos but in very different ways. By playing each others’ roles they both can get a clearer picture of how Rastapopoulos hurt people, and therefore a better understanding of their own traumas. Tintin is usually spontaneous and rarely makes himself known, but here he is playing a set character. Marlene as an actress, on the other hand, is used to receiving direction from others, but circumstance pushes her to improvise. I can imagine her using her skills as an actor to get into character as an ace reporter to fake some much needed bravery!

- Marlene’s disguise is literally just stuff she pulls from Tintin’s and Chang’s closets. She’s wearing Tintin’s trenchcoat, dress shirt and suspenders and Chang’s spectator shoes, trousers and scarf!

- Marlene is a very skittish person but will be compelled to do what she believes is the right thing. As Vaye put it, “Marlene’s bravery under fire is that she’s like the one person in a room who’s willing to get a spider outside...” Marlene is also older than Tintin and pretty much views him as a child, even though he’s in his early 20s at this point. She feels incredibly guilty about what Rastapopoulos did to him and the fact he’s risking his life for her. She feels some level of responsibility for him.

This all started because I thought it would be cool for Tintin to beat some guys up in drag

[starkwlkr]

annoying little brothers | f1

female driver x f1 drivers (platonic) (same age as daniel so 33)

part 2 part 3

Y/N L/N BEING THE FUNNIEST DRIVER ON THE GRID

The video starts of with a press conference from the United States Grand Prix. Y/n was seated with Charles, Pierre, Daniel and Sebastian her being in the middle of all the men who she considered her brothers.

She was listening to all the questions the men were receiving from how they thought they were going to do, how’s the team doing, etc. But when a reported finally asked her a question, she completely blanked.

“Sorry, I was just thinking about my son. We were supposed to get breakfast together and he hasn’t texted me back. I haven’t seen Lando all day.” Y/‘ said making the drivers and reporters laugh.

“When did you adopt Lando? I wasn’t aware.” Daniel played along.

“2019. He was actually lost when I met him. It was during the Australian Grand Prix, his first f1 race. I found him and we did the Melbourne walk together and I’ve just kind of adopted ever since. So if any of you bully my son, I’m coming after you.” Y/n explained.

“He’s probably texting you right now saying ‘stop embarrassing me, mom!’” Sebastian went on.

“Wait, he’s over there!” Pierre spotted the Brit rushing towards their direction.

“He’s alive!” Charles cheered.

Finally, Lando arrived to their interview area with a box from a a bakery in his hand. “Sorry, I have to drop this off. We’ll get breakfast tomorrow. I got you pastries.” Lando gave Y/n the box and a hug then he was off since he was late for his interview.

“You’ve raised your son well.” The reporter joked.

“That was all me, I needed no help.”

The next clip was a fan video from 2021. Y/n had just finished her date with a guy and now she was signing autographs and taking photos with a group of girls. The girls had just finished their meals at a restaurant when they spotted the f1 driver leaving with a guy. The politely asked for a photo, which y/n was more than glad to take. Her date stepped aside to give them a moment.

“Sorry to interrupt your date.” A girl apologized for her and all her friends.

“Nothing to be sorry about, honey. I’m actually nervous because I don’t know how the date went. I’m horrible at first dates so this is kinda making me less stressed.” Y/n admitted. The girls laughed as y/n signed a girls phone case.

“Has he met Lando?” Another girl asked knowing how close y/n and lando are.

“Not yet. I’m afraid that Lando might scare him off. Everyone on the grid might, especially seb. He will definitely give him one of those ‘treat her right or I will run you over’ speeches.” Y/n signed another phone case.

“Does he knows you’re famous?”

“Oh god, no! I told him I was unemployed and that a sugar daddy was giving me money. I’m surprised he still agreed to come on this date with me.” Y/n chuckled.

Months later, the guy ended up being y/n’s boyfriend. He even attended the British Grand Prix where he finally met Lando, who was actually the one to tell him to treat y/n right or he would run him over.

The next clip started off with the intro to grill the grid. The challenge was to guess the driver’s numbers, something that y/n was semi confident about.

“So we start off with my man, Danny, number three.” She wrote down on her clipboard. “Four, my son, Lando. Also ever since I met Lando I’ve been seeing the number four quite often. It’s scary actually. Can’t decide if Lando put a curse on me or not.”

“Would he do that?”

“He shouldn’t,” y/n raised her voice slightly. “Anyways, next is … oh! Seb! I don’t know why I couldn’t think of him right away. Then we have latifi at number six then kimi at seven.” She continued writing down the names.

“Nine ….Mazepin.” She fought the urge to roll her eyes since her and the driver were never on good terms.

“Ten, my favorite frenchie well one of, we treat everyone nice here, gasly.” Y/n winked at the camera. “Eleven, the mexican minister of defense, Perez. And then we have me! Thirteen!”

“Do you think Lando got your number right?”

“I don’t doubt him ever.”

“Thirteen, my mother! Everyone better get that right.” Lando pointed at the camera menacingly.

“Fourteen, Alonzo. Sixteen, Leclerc Charles. Eighteen, stroll and twenty two!” Y/n sang the number in the tune of taylor swift’s song. “Yuki! Thirty one, Esteban, my other frenchie. Thirty three, max does he have a middle name verstappen.”

“Have you noticed that you haven’t gotten any wrong yet?”

“I’m just the best, that’s why.” Y/n laughed. “Forty four, the seven time world champion, sir lewis hamilton. Fourty seven, mick mick mick. I love to say his name.”

Y/n had completely forgotten she had to be writing the names down. She was having too much fun.

“Fifty five, carlos smooth operator sainz jr. sixty three, the man with two first names, russell george.” Y/n said as she looked down at the numbers on the paper.

“Do you know his middle name?”

Y/n gasped. “Is it another first name?”

“I believe it’s William.”

“Three names!? It sounds so british.” Y/n chuckled. “Um, seventy seven valtteri, right?” Y/n saw the interviewer nod. “I was getting worried my streak would be broken. And ninety nine, antonio!”

“You got all of them!” Everyone in the room cheered.

“Did anyone else get them all?” Y/n asked.

“Daniel did.”

“Of course. He’s good with numbers.”

The next clip was from the same grill the grid video but it was a blooper. Lando had arrived right as y/n finished filming and handed her a water bottle.

“Did you get my number?” Lando asked curiously.

“Yeah, ninety five, right? Cause you’re a McQueen fan.” Y/n teased as she grabbed the bottle from lando’s hand.

“Yeah, you remembered!” Lando played along “how did she really do?” He asked.

“She got them all right.”

“Really? I’ve got a smart mother!” Lando high fived the woman.

“It’s because I’ve got a photographic memory.” Y/n nodded with the most serious face on.

“Do you really?” Lando asked. He was surprised to hear that.

“No, I just love to lie.”

The next clip started with Daniel and Lando standing next to boards with their 2022 rankings. As predicted, Daniel and Lando’s part of the interview was mostly filled with them drawing over each other’s pictures.

Daniel them knocked over Lando’s rankings to the ground. “That’s how I feel.”

“That was the worst timing ever. Y/n is walking this way.” Lando told Daniel, who immediately picked up the board.

“Are those your rankings?” Y/n asked as she approached the duo. She then noticed that the setup and quickly apologized to the camera man. “Sorry, I’m just curious now.”

“Are you proud of me?” Lando asked, standing next to her and throwing his arm over her shoulder.

“When am I not? Wait, except that time you pushed me into my birthday cake.” Y/n pinched his side. “Can I see the pen?” She asked the guys, Lando gave her his.

“She’s adding to our masterpieces. This piece will be worth millions years from now.” Daniel said.

Y/n then scribbled little stars around Lando’s head and then signed it at the top. “Actually you both look great in your pictures. Did they use photoshop?”

“Excuse me, this is all natural.”

“Y/n! Hi, hello. What’s going on here?” Martin brundle asked the woman as she walked with her mom and pr manager, Lucy.

“Martin! It’s been a while, nothing much. How are you?” Y/n hugged the former racing driver. “This is my mom, she’s been wanting to meet you.”

“Mrs. l/n, hello. Welcome, how are you?” Martin greeted the older woman.

“Great. I’m here supporting my girl. It’s been a wonderful weekend.” Y/n’s mom smiled.

“Are you aware that you have a grandson that drives for McLaren?” Martin asked making all three ladies laugh.

“Yes, Lando is a very lovely young man.”

“How does it feel to have a daughter and grandson in f1?” Martin asked in a serious tone.

“Amazing. I’m super proud of both of them.”

“Thank you ladies for your time. Have a wonderful day.” Martin smiled at them, but before he could leave, y/n gave him a hug goodbye.

“Take care, Martin!” Y/n waved to the man and left with her mom and Lucy.

“She wins everything. Give her all the trophies. Everything is hers.” Martin said to the camera.

The final clip was consisted of y/n after a race getting interviewed.

“Do you often see your father?” Someone asked from the back.

“No, actually we’re just good friends.”

“What’s your opinion on the president of the United States?” Asked the same person.

“I don’t think about him.”

“What’s going on between max verstappen and lewis hamilton?”

“I don’t know, I just work here.”

[cloakedsparrow]

Tim: ...so that's how I ended up in Bludhaven with a fake uncle.

Jason: ...

Tim: What?

Jason: Let me make sure I'm understanding this correctly before I respond. Your dad was murdered. Your stepmom, who never adopted you, was in a mental hospital. Dick was awol. Cass was still basically a baby as well and was finding herself. B was avoiding you because he felt guilty about getting your dad murdered.

Tim: He didn't-

Jason *speaking over him forcefully*: Then you dropped out of school, so no one could possibly miss you while you lived with a man who was a complete stranger to you and who knew you had money and no adults worth a damn in your life.

Jason *takes deep breath*: Why the fuck would you do that?!

Tim: Well, at first I wasn't sure what was going to happen to me and Batman needs Robin, but we also both needed some space to grieve. I had to make sure I was still available to Bruce while also leaving us some breathing room. Plus, Dick was out of town, so Bludhaven needed a vigilante anyway.

Jason: Okay, ignoring the twenty other things wrong with that statement, did it never occur to you that Bruce could just adopt you?

Tim: Well, Yeah. But he'd just adopted Dick, which was a really big deal for him, emotionally, you know? I was worried he'd feel bad if Bruce turned around and adopted me.

Jason: You were worried Dick would feel bad if Bruce adopted you when you had literally no one else?

Tim: Yeah. I was used to being alone anyway and you know how he can get when it comes to Bruce.

Jason: So you decided to move in with a strange man who was down on his luck and might, oh, I don't know, murder the weird, wealthy child whose bank account he had access to?!

Tim: I paid him. I never gave him direct access to my bank account.

Jason: Oh, well that makes everything fine then. He'd just have to force you to hand over more cash. Or hold you hostage against Bruce. Or blackmail you to keep you as his baby sugar daddy.

Tim: I set up everything about his fake identity so he couldn't try to blackmail me without looking really sketchy himself and he never knew about Robin, so what would he blackmail me with anyway?

Jason: How about telling Bruce what you did, since the charade was obviously mostly for him?

Tim: Then he'd risk losing everything while I moved in with Bruce. Nothing he could do against me would gain him anything, so what was the worst that could happen?

Jason: He could have murdered you in your sleep! He could've jumped you while you were vulnerable! He could've threaten to report you to a truancy officer if you didn't do something he wanted! He could've drugged you and sold you to traffickers! Fuck, I don't want to keep thinking about all the horrible things that could've happened to your idiotic baby past self. So let me just reiterate the important question: What the fuck were you thinking?!

Tim: Why does every funny story I tell you end up with you freaking out and yelling at me?

Jason: Because every story you think is a funny childhood anecdote is actually a fucking terrifying misadventure that you just somehow survived!