#when is the carnival photo going to come up?? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

yannawayne · 5 months ago

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iv. what's up danger?

SYNOPSIS: "Alright, let's do this one last time. My name is Y/N Kyle. I was bitten by a radioactive spider, And I've been the one and only Spidey in Gotham. I’m pretty sure you know the rest." PAIRING: Older! Damian Wayne/Fem! Reader TAGS: Established Relationship, Wounds, Violence, Surgical procedures, Panic Attacks, Arguments AO3: yenwayne SERIES LINK: gotham's only spidey

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The room falls into a stunned silence, every gaze drawn to your disheveled, bloodied appearance.

You attempt a casual wave, but it comes off as weak and awkward. Blood drips from your bruised knuckles, each drop splattering with a muted plop onto the polished floor. “Hey, everyone. Sorry, I’m late.”

Jason’s eyes flare with a dangerous glint of green as he barks, “What the fuck happened, kid?”

A typical dinner at the Waynes.

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Wednesday, 6:54 PM - Catwoman’s Apartment, Gotham City.

Three Days Later

THE ROOM IS QUIET except for the occasional rustle of clothing as you pack your things. You carefully fold your favorite hoodie, tucking it neatly into the suitcase. Next, you grab a few pairs of jeans, some t-shirts, and your worn-out sneakers.

You pause, your fingers lingering on a framed photo resting on the edge of the dresser. It's a snapshot of you and Damian at a carnival, his arm slung over your shoulder, his lips gently pressed against your head.

It’s been three days of radio silence between you and Damian. Three days of not speaking, which is practically a record for your relationship. And just when you were starting to get used to the peace and quiet, Bruce had to go and invite you and Selina to a celebratory dinner tonight. A gourmet guilt trip.

With a sigh, you place the photo gently on top of your clothes. Then you move to your desk, gathering a stack of notebooks crammed with sketches and half-finished plans scribbled on napkins and crumpled scraps of paper. You tuck them into the side pocket of your bag, carefully arranging the chaotic collection so that it all fits.

The door creaks open, and Selina steps into the room, her arms crossed with a proud smile playing on her lips.

“Packing up for your big adventure?” she asks.

You look up from your suitcase, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah. It’s only for a month, but it feels like I’m leaving for a year.”

“A month isn’t so long.” Selina walks over, her feet thudding softly on the floor. She picks up a small figurine from your desk, examining it with a thoughtful expression. “Think of it as a chance to stretch your wings and maybe learn a thing or two.”

“Thanks.” You smile and turn back to your packing, reaching for your suit. The sleek, black material glistens under the soft light filtering through the window. You run your fingers over the spider emblem stitched into the back, feeling the familiar texture beneath your fingertips.

“You’re not seriously thinking of bringing the suit, are you?” she asks.

You hesitate, feeling the weight of the suit in your hands. “I thought I might need it. Just in case.”

“Well, you’re not planning on fighting crime in Stark Tower, are you?” she snarks, hands finding her hips as she gives you a look that clearly says she’s not buying your excuse. “This internship is a chance for you to have a life outside the vigilante shtick. It’s good for your future. A chance to live a normal life.”

“Normal? Mom, I stopped being normal the day I got these powers. There's no going back to that.”

“Maybe not,” Selina concedes, running gentle fingers through your hair. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t have something close to it. You deserve to have options, to see what else is out there for you.”

You meet her gaze, your resolve unwavering. “I hear you. But I think I need to bring it. Just in case something goes wrong.”

Selina sighs, her shoulders slumping slightly. “God. You are just as stubborn as me,” she says, rising to her feet with a resigned smile. “Just promise me you’ll keep an open mind about this internship. Give it a real shot, okay?”

“Promise,” you hum, feeling a small sense of relief. As you reach for the suit to tuck it into your bag, your phone buzzes insistently.

Quickly, you glance at the screen.

Morgana:

Busy tonight? There’s a shipment near the docks. Tech equipment from what I see.

You could infiltrate. They have valuable info.

It's… Black Mask.

For a while, you stare at the phone, your thumb hovering over the screen, itching to swipe through the new messages. But Selina is still standing nearby. With a soft cough and a resigned exhale, you place the phone face down on the floor, deliberately ignoring the message for now.

You turn your attention back to your suitcase, refocusing on the task at hand. Selina watches you with a knowing look but doesn’t press further. The silence in the room is filled with the subtle rustle of fabric and the soft clink of zippers as you continue packing.

“Ready for tonight?” Selina asks.

You nod, though a knot tightens in your stomach. Bruce’s congratulatory dinner feels less like a celebration and more like an impending test, especially with the unresolved tension between you and Damian hanging heavy.

“Ready as I'll ever be,” you reply, attempting to sound confident.

You zip up the suitcase, taking a moment to glance around the room. Everything seems to be in place, but you double-check, making sure you haven’t forgotten anything essential.

Selina nods approvingly, then steps closer, bending to pull you into a hug. “I’ll go get dressed. You do too, alright?”

Selina leaves the room, her footsteps fading into the distance. Turning back to your suitcase, you rummage through the clothes, pulling out a pair of well-worn jeans and a red jacket. After slipping on some socks and sneakers, you reach for a black shirt. But as your hand hovers over the fabric, your gaze is drawn to your suit laid out on the bed.

The spider logo on its back glares at you, its eight-legged emblem almost seeming to reach out with an imperceptible pull, as if urging you to embrace your other self.

After a moment of inner conflict, you give in. You carefully pull on the suit beneath your clothes, the snug material wrapping around you like a second skin. With the suit in place, you slip on your black shirt, followed by the jacket and jeans. You tuck your mask into the pocket of your jacket.

Wearing a superhero suit under your clothes for a fancy dinner—definitely not a sign of insanity. Totally normal behavior. Call it creative paranoia.

With everything packed and ready, you head downstairs. Selina is still in her room, and you catch sight of her as she steps into view, looking a touch more formal than you in a sleek, off-shoulder black dress that hugs her curves. It’s short, tight, and elegant.

“Done already?” she hums, moving to her vanity and starting on her hair and makeup.

You nod, leaning against the doorframe and giving your hair a casual tousle. “Yeah, figured I’d keep it simple. Not sure I’m in the mood for fancy.”

Selina glances at you through the mirror, a small, reassuring smile curling her lips. “You look great. And don’t worry too much about tonight. It’ll be fine.”

“I hope so,” you murmur, more to yourself than to her.

The clock on the wall reads 7:00. You have three hours before the dinner, and Selina, always the early planner, will be occupied with her preparations for a while.

Pulling out your phone, you check Morgan’s message again. If you played your cards right, you could handle the shipment bust quickly and still make it to the dinner on time.

Clearing your throat, you push yourself off the doorframe and tug your hood back on. You head downstairs, making sure to keep your movements casual and unhurried, as if nothing out of the ordinary is about to happen.

“I’ll be heading out for a bit. I want to get some flowers for Alfred,” you call out, your voice carrying through the house.

Selina glances up from her vanity, an eyebrow arching in curiosity. “Alright, but don’t be too long. We need to leave once the driver arrives.”

“Got it,” you reply with a quick nod, turning and heading out of the room. You make your way downstairs, slipping out the front door and into the crisp evening air.

Once you’re in the privacy of a nearby alleyway, you waste no time. Tugging off your shirt, you shove it into the pocket of your jacket, feeling a rush of adrenaline. You slip on your mask, adjusting it carefully until it fits snugly, the familiar material settling comfortably against your skin. Your jeans, jacket, and sneakers stay on for practicality, and you plan to put the black shirt back on later.

With everything in place, you secure your earpiece and gadgets, pressing the earpiece into position and activating it. The familiar hum of your tech springs to life, and you’re ready to move.

The city’s sounds fade as you slip into the shadows.

“Morgz? You there?” you call out, already scaling up the side of a building.

A crackle of static precedes Morgan’s voice. “Yeah, I’m here. You on your way?”

“Just about to leave,” you reply, grabbing onto a ledge and pulling yourself up. “Any updates on the shipment?”

“It’s scheduled to arrive in about 30 minutes. The tech equipment is being unloaded from a truck into a warehouse. Security’s decent, but nothing you can’t handle. You’re only 15 minutes away from your spot right now.”

“Got it,” you confirm, reaching the rooftop and taking a moment to scan the area below. “I’ll keep you posted. Thanks for the heads-up.”

You launch into action, web-slinging towards the docks with a focus on speed. Normally, you’d be showboating and performing flips, but tonight, every second counts. The journey takes a bit longer than expected—20 minutes instead of 15.

As you approach the docks, you spot a boat pulling up to the edge, its silhouette cutting through the darkness.

“Surprised you even took this up,” Morgan’s voice murmurs through your earpiece. “Thought you weren't allowed to patrol on school nights.”

“Technically… I’m not,” you reply, weaving between buildings and adjusting your trajectory for a swift descent.

“Yeesh. Going rebellious already?”

“Teenage angst, remember?” you quip, a grin forming beneath your mask as you prepare to intercept the shipment

Landing on a rooftop adjacent to the warehouse, you take a moment to plan your entry. The warehouse is a large, industrial building with a few tall windows and a side door that looks like it’s used for deliveries.

Security cameras are mounted on the corners of the building, rotating every now and then. You quickly survey the area, noting the guards' position.

There are a couple of guards patrolling the perimeter, walking in predictable patterns. One guard is stationed near the side door, checking his watch occasionally. The other two are more mobile, taking turns walking around the exterior and scanning the area.

Beyond the security, you see five workers moving boxes from the boat to the warehouse. The open doors at the far end reveal crates of tech equipment being unloaded.

You activate your earpiece. "Update. Three guards outside. Five active workers. They've got cameras. Can you get those down for me?"

Morgan's voice crackles through your earpiece. "On it. Give me a sec."

You watch the cameras, waiting for them to go offline. The guard near the side door looks at his watch again, oblivious to what's about to happen.

After a tense moment, Morgan's voice comes back. "Cameras are down. You've got about an hour before the system kicks in again. Oh. That and there are about 5 more guards inside."

"Perfect," you hum.

You time your movements with the guards' patrols, slipping through the shadows. You approach the side door, keeping low and quiet.

Inside, the warehouse is dimly lit, with stacks of crates creating narrow pathways. The workers are busy unloading the truck, their focus on the task at hand. You crawl up the walls swiftly and silently.

You spot a terminal near the back of the warehouse, its blinking lights indicating it’s connected to the inventory system.

Time to get to work.

“I'm at the terminal. What’s next?” you whisper into the earpiece.

Morgan’s voice comes through with a steady tone. “Plug in the flash drive to copy the inventory data. While that’s running, find the main control panel for the security system and plant the tracker. This will help us monitor future shipments.”

You nod, even though she can't see you. "Got it. Flash drive first, then tracker."

You slip to the terminal and plug in the flash drive, which hums softly as it starts copying data. Glancing around to make sure no one is watching, you head to the security control panel hidden behind some crates and quickly plant the tracker.

"The tracker is set," you inform Morgan.

"Great job. The data copy should be done soon. Once it’s finished, you can pull the flash drive and get out of there."

You head back to the terminal, keeping an eye on the workers and guards. The flash drive's light blinks, signaling it's almost finished. After a few tense moments, the light turns solid.

"Data copied," Morgan confirms. "You’re clear to go."

You pull out the flash drive, tuck it into your pocket, and start heading toward the exit, blending into the shadows. Just as you reach the door, you hear voices nearby.

“Hey, did you hear something?”

Your heart stops as the guard’s flashlight beam sweeps dangerously close to your hiding spot. You freeze, pressing yourself against the cold metal wall, barely breathing.

“Probably just a rat. Let's check it out just in case.”

You curse silently under your breath, watching as the guards start moving in your direction.

The first guard steps closer, his flashlight scanning the area. You silently crawl up the wall, positioning yourself above him. With a swift flick of your wrist, you shoot a web at the flashlight, yanking it out of his hand and into the darkness.

“What the—” the guard starts, but you quickly web his mouth shut and pull him up towards the ceiling, wrapping him tightly in webbing and securing him to the roof. You knock his head against the metal, and he passes out.

The second guard, alarmed by the sudden commotion, turns his back to you as he draws his weapon. The rifle fires, but your spider sense helps you dodge the shots.

Cursing, you shoot a web at his feet, yanking his legs out from under him and sending him crashing to the ground. Before he can react, you web his hands to the floor and sling his weapon away.

Dropping from the ceiling, you slow your landing with a web and slam your foot down onto his head, knocking him out.

Despite the quiet disposal of the two guards, the earlier rifle shot already alerted the other workers and guards in the warehouse. You hear shouts and hurried footsteps approaching.

“Someone’s here! Find them!”

Guards scramble, their flashlights slicing through the darkness, casting erratic beams that dance across the warehouse walls. You sprint away, weaving between crates and machinery, but a new threat emerges from the shadows—a massive, burly man, easily twice your size. He’s built like a brick wall, his muscles straining against his uniform, and his face looks like it’s been chiseled out of stone, etched with a permanent scowl.

“Who’s messing around in 'ere?” the giant roars, his voice reverberating through the cavernous space. He brandishes a rifle, and from the looks of it, he seems to be their leader.

You glance at your watch—damn, it’s been two hours already.

Only an hour left.

Still… you could probably get one fight in before leaving.

…

Swinging out of the shadows, you land in front of the giant, hands on your hips.

“Hi, Mr. Villain!” you call out, catching a punch he throws and giving his hand a playful shake. “I’m Spidey, your friendly neighborhood nuisance. Always nice to meet someone with such a ‘heavy’ presence. Looks like you’ve got a bit of a security problem here—totally my bad.”

The giant snarls at you. He fires his rifle, but you deftly dodge the bullets. With a swift move, you fire a web at his feet and arms, pinning him momentarily to the ground. The rifle is knocked from his hands, clattering out of reach.

The guards scramble to regroup, and you spring into action. Flipping back into the air, you disarm the remaining guards—quick web blasts here, a roundhouse kick there, an uppercut thrown. Each guard crumples under the assault, slamming against the walls one by one, webbed together in a tangled heap.

There’s a snap as the leader breaks free, roaring in fury and charging at you. You duck under his swinging arm and fire a web at a stack of crates. The crates topple and crash into his path, heavy wood and metal smashing together. He stumbles, cursing and flailing wildly.

“Careful there! You might just crush your own merchandise,” you taunt, sidestepping his erratic swings.

In that moment of distraction, you snatch his gun away with a quick webshot. But as you turn to face him again, a jolt of pure adrenaline slams through your veins, sharp and unrelenting, like an electric shock.

The world sharpens into hyperfocus.

DANGER!

Your instincts scream at you to move. You leap to the side, but it’s already too late. A shadowy figure springs from the darkness, their knife catching a deadly glint in the harsh warehouse lights.

The blade slices through your suit, leaving a searing, agonizing wound. You stagger, clutching your side as blood seeps through the torn fabric and pools on the cold concrete. With a pained grimace, you muster the strength to shoot a web at the attacker, slamming them against the wall with a forceful swing.

“Spidey?! Come in. Shit. What happened to staying stealthy?” Morgan's voice crackles through the earpiece. “PEPPER, run back their vitals on me.”

A mechanical voice responds through your earpiece. “Vitals are stable. The wound is a deep six-inch laceration on the left side, with moderate blood loss, but the suit's padding has helped. The injury missed major organs and arteries. Immediate first aid and stitches are recommended.”

“Looks like I’ve got a new scar to show for tonight,” you heave, trying to ignore the throbbing pain as the giant stalks toward you. “But I’m not done yet.”

The man's roar shakes the warehouse.

“You think you can take me, you puny spider?!”

You lift your chin, tilting your head with a smirk. “Puny? That’s funny. I’ve taken down bigger.”

The giant lunges, brandishing a scrap of metal like a battering ram. You barely dodge, feeling the whoosh of air as it swings past. You retaliate with a web shot to his face, but he roars and swats it away, his massive arms tearing through your webbing.

“Careful there, big guy,” you quip, “I’m not into heavy metal, but thanks for the offer!”

His hand clamps onto your chest, lifting you off your feet with an alarming strength. He hurls you against a stack of crates, the impact slamming you into the wall. You slide down to the floor, dazed and with blood trickling from a split lip.

While you're down, the giant strides toward you, his heavy footsteps shaking the ground like a mini earthquake. You struggle to rise, just as he launches a flying knee. Your senses scream, a blaring alarm urging you to move.

!!!

With a yelp, you roll to the side, narrowly avoiding the crushing blow that hits where you had been seconds before.

“Hey, watch it! I’ve got places to be after this!” you yell.

Before you can react, a powerful punch slams into your face, sending you spiraling backward.

“Owie. That one’s definitely gonna leave a mark,” you groan, pain radiating through your skull. Desperately, you shoot a web at his legs, hoping to slow him down. The webbing holds for a moment before he rips through it with sheer brute force.

Groaning, you shake off the dizziness, rolling your shoulders to loosen them before pushing yourself back to your feet.

“Alright,” you mutter, taking a deep breath. “Clearly, the webs aren’t working. Guess we’re sticking to fists. Put ’em up, big guy.”

Laughing with a guttural, mocking tone, the giant charges at you. As he lunges, you brace yourself and bring your fist up to guard your face. With a burst of power, you jab forward. Your knuckles connect with his face with a sickening crunch, the sound of bone shattering and flesh splitting echoing through the warehouse like a thunderclap.

JAB!

The man staggers back, his head snapping violently to the side, blood spraying from his jaw. Before he can recover, you launch into a spinning kick. Your leg connects with explosive force, slamming him into the wall with a resounding thud.

You follow up with a powerful jump, driving a kick into his ribs. The impact echoes with a sickening crack. He roars in pain and collapses, slumped against the wall.

With quick reflexes, you shoot a web at a high pipe, coiling it tightly. You yank the pipe down with all your strength. It crashes onto the giant with a resounding clang, the impact knocking him out cold.

You take a couple of deep breaths, blood and sweat mingling on your clothes and face as you survey the wreckage. The giant groans weakly—alive, but definitely out of commission for the moment.

“Looks like the big guy’s all out of steam,” you murmur, wiping the blood from your brow with a grim smile. “Now, time to find that exit before my own steam runs out.”

With a final glance at the chaos you've left behind, you swing toward the exit. The cut on your side throbs with each movement—though it's slowly healing, the pain and blood are still very much present.

"Spidey? You alright? What the fuck, you just beat that guy within an inch of his life."

“He’ll live,” you huff as you swing through the streets. After fumbling around for a while, you pull your phone from your jacket and curse at the time.

Only ten minutes before the car arrives.

“Uh, Morgz, do me a favor. Where’s the nearest flower shop?”

"Christ. You just busted down an illegal tech deal and now you're out for flowers?" Morgan’s response comes through the earpiece before you hear some typing. “There’s a florist two blocks from your current location. I’m sending you the address. But—You really need to take care of that wound.”

“Nothing I can’t handle,” you reply. There's a ping as the location pops up on your phone. “Just need to pick up some flowers. Trust me, it’s important.”

You adjust your swing to head toward the florist, landing quietly in the alley outside. With quick movements, you slip off your mask and start changing. You discard your jacket, revealing the bloodied suit underneath. The suit’s dark color masks most of the stains, but it's still a grim sight.

Pulling on your shirt over the suit, you try to conceal the worst of the mess. The sticky, wet feeling of blood against your skin is unpleasant, and you grimace as you adjust the shirt. Finally, you slip the jacket back on, hoping it will help you blend in and give you a semblance of normalcy.

Taking a deep breath, you straighten up and glance at your reflection in the nearby puddle. The image staring back at you is a disheveled mess: hair tousled, face bruised and bloodied, jeans stained with grime and blood, and a jacket barely concealing it all.

“Not my best look,” you bite your lip. “But it’ll have to do.”

With a sigh, you step into the flower shop. The bell above the door jingles softly, and the warm, floral scent is a welcome relief from the warehouse’s stench.

The florist looks up from behind the counter with a curious glance. His eyes narrow slightly as he takes in your disheveled appearance but he doesn’t seem particularly fazed.

In Gotham, a bloodied teenager is probably just another Wednesday.

“Evening,” the florist says, his voice carrying the neutrality of someone accustomed to the oddities of city life. “What can I do for you?”

You give a quick nod, trying to keep your tone casual despite the blood still seeping through your shirt. “Need something nice. Simple. No need for anything flashy.”

The florist nods and starts arranging a bouquet of flowers. You drift over to a corner and find yourself looking at some daisies, their bright, cheerful colors a stark contrast to your current state.

“Spidey? How’s it going?”

“Alright,” you shrug, though she can’t see it. “Can I get a rundown on my vitals again?”

Morgan’s voice hums and there’s the sound of clicking keys. “Vitals are stable. The cut is slowly healing, but you’ll need to properly bandage and get some of that stitched later Happy to say you're not going to die bleeding out.”

She pauses, and then adds, “You’ve got a couple of broken ribs though.”

You blink in surprise and pat at your sides, feeling nothing. “Really? Guess that’s my pain tolerance working overtime. Didn’t even notice.”

“Please tell me you’re getting that treated first,” Morgan says, a hint of concern in her voice.

“Nope,” you reply, moving to pay for the flowers. “Already running late. Mom will kill me if she finds out.”

Morgan’s voice is laced with skepticism. “She’s going to find out anyway.”

You sigh, trying to ignore the twinge in your side. “I’ll just say it was a mugging.”

“Do you really think she’ll believe that?” Morgan asks, her tone dry.

You let out a small, pained chuckle. “In Gotham, maybe. But realistically…no. I’m just hoping to buy myself a little time before it all catches up to me.”

With the bouquet in hand, you head back out into the night. You tuck the flowers into your free pocket and swing off into the darkness. As you soar through the city, you reach for your earpiece and say a quick, “Goodnight, Morgz,” before shoving it into the pocket of your jeans.

Just as you near the bridge, your phone rings. You glance at the screen and curse under your breath—Selina’s calling, and from the look of it, she’s been trying to reach you multiple times over the past hour.

Yeah, you’re fucked.

You answer the call, forcing a casual tone. “Hey, Mom. What’s up?”

Selina’s voice comes through, clearly agitated. You can hear her huffing as she closes the apartment door, the background noise of a car engine rumbling outside. “Where the hell are you? I’ve been waiting forever. We’re all set to head out.”

You quickly scan the streets below as you swing past, trying to gauge your location. “Uh, I’m on 2nd Broadway… actually, make that 3rd Broadway. And… 4th of Broadway! I’ll be there in… twenty minutes tops. Almost there, Mom!”

There’s a pause.

“... Are you swinging?”

“Nope,” you lie smoothly, narrowly dodging a pigeon that flaps angrily past your face. “Just a bit of a detour. You know how it is.”

“Honey. I can hear the wind. Are you really swinging around? It’s a school night. You know the rules—”

You wince, knowing you’ve been caught. “Just… had a few things to take care of. I’m on my way. Promise. Actually, why don’t I meet you at Wayne Manor instead? I’m near the bridge. Ya know, the one by the docks.”

There’s another pause on her end.

“Why are you near the docks?!”

You avoid the question, trying to keep the conversation moving. “Long story. Look, I’m running late. Can we just meet at Wayne Manor? I’ll explain everything after dinner.”

Selina’s frustration doesn’t ease, but she sighs. “Fine. Wayne Manor it is. But don’t think for a second you’re off the hook, young lady.”

You nod, even though she can’t see it. “Understood. See you soon. Love you, Mom!”

༻⊰───⋅

BEEP.

Selina scowls as she ends the call and heads down to meet Alfred. The gritty streets of Gotham greet her, the cacophony of sirens and street chatter providing a harsh backdrop to her mood.

Alfred, noticing her irritated state, opens the door for her with a raised eyebrow. "Good to see you Miss Kyle. May I ask where the young miss is?"

Selina forces a smile, trying to mask her frustration. “She’s… handling something that came up last minute. She’ll meet us at the manor.”

"Very well. I trust she’ll be punctual." Alfred says, a hint of concern in his eyes, but he says nothing more. He closes the door behind her as she slips into the car, adjusting her coat and glancing at her reflection in the rearview mirror.

The engine starts, the low hum blending with the city’s background noise. As the vehicle pulls away, Selina leans back against the cool leather seat, her fingers drumming lightly on the armrest, her mind already racing through the conversation she knows is coming.

You were dead meat.

༻⊰───⋅

After nearly an hour of high-speed swings through Gotham, you finally touch down in a secluded area near Wayne Manor. You're breathless and disheveled, your earlier efforts to look presentable having fallen short. You quickly scan the area, making sure the security cameras don’t catch your arrival.

Taking a moment to compose yourself, you adjust your clothes and press the doorbell. The chime rings through the grand entrance. You glance at your phone and wince—you're an hour and thirty minutes late.

The swinging took longer than expected, and to make matters worse, you had to intervene when this ginger reporter was being robbed. You couldn’t just stand by and do nothing.

Now, as you wait by the gate, you hear footsteps approaching from inside. The door swings open to reveal Alfred, who freezes for a moment, his eyes widening at the sight of you—bruised, bloodied, and clearly worse for wear. You lean against the gate, your fingers curling around the metal.

“H—Hey, Al.”

“Goodness me!” Alfred exclaims, hurrying over to the gate and pulling it open wide. He rushes over, opening the gate wider and pulling you inside with a practiced ease. His gaze sweeps over your injuries, concern etched deeply into his features. “Miss Kyle, you’re in quite a state!”

You manage a tired smile, carefully pulling the bouquet from your jacket. It’s in rough shape—torn petals, crushed blooms, and snapped stems. It looks like it’s on the verge of dying.

“Sorry I’m late,” you say, wincing as you hold up the sad arrangement. “These… are for you. I, uh, ran all the way here. I hope I’m not too late for dinner.”

Alfred takes the flowers with a gentle smile, his concern momentarily overshadowed by a touch of warmth. “Thank you, Miss Kyle. However, I assure you it’s fine. The others have already started eating. They won’t mind if you—”

“It’s fine! This is just…,” you pause, pursing your lips as you scramble for a plausible excuse. You force a smile, shaking your head and pulling your jacket hood further over your face to hide the swelling bruise around one of your eyes. “Hah, you know how Gotham can be.”

Alfred gives you a sympathetic glance but says nothing more. “Very well. If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you to the dining room.”

He guides you through the grand hallways, your footsteps echoing in the vast space and mingling with the soft murmur of conversation. As you reach the dining room, the door swings open, revealing a table set with care and already abuzz with activity. Selina, Bruce, and the others are seated, their animated conversations abruptly halting as they turn to look at you.

The room falls into a stunned silence, every gaze drawn to your disheveled, bloodied appearance.

Selina’s eyes narrow into slits, her irritation barely concealed behind a strained, tight-lipped smile. Bruce’s complexion drains to an ashen hue, his eyes are wide as saucers, looking like he’s about to pass out from shock. He casts Selina a panicked glance, which she meets with a weary sigh, her hands momentarily covering her face as if trying to shield herself from the mess. She looks utterly drained.

Jason’s eyes flare with a dangerous glint of green as he barks, “What the fuck happened, kid?”

Next to him, Cassandra’s face is blank. Her fingers fidget with her utensils as she shifts her gaze rapidly between you and Selina, trying to piece together the fractured narrative from your battered appearance and Selina’s body language.

Bruce, who had been quietly observing, stands up and approaches you with slow, measured steps.

“You’re hurt,” he says, his voice a deep, resonant murmur. His hands, surprisingly gentle for their strength, settle on your shoulders. His eyes, usually as inscrutable as the dark depths of a stormy sea, now soften with the tenderness of a lighthouse guiding you through a night. “What happened, kiddo?”

There’s a strange, twisting sensation in your gut, flaring just beneath your ribs. A lump rises in your throat, and despite your best efforts to stay composed, your eyes begin to well up.

“I—” you begin, but the words falter. Your gaze drifts across the room and locks onto Damian’s eyes. They’re like emeralds, gleaming with a ferocity that seems to pierce through the walls you’ve built. Though he remains silent, his piercing look conveys a thousand unspoken thoughts and emotions.

A wave of shame is crashing into you, pushing your words back down. “Just… a rough night. Got into a fight.”

Bruce’s eyes narrow, and a wave of seething anger ripples through him. You try to ignore it.

“And who was this?” he demands, his voice a controlled, simmering growl.

“It’s okay. It ended up alright,” you try to shrug it off, forcing a casual tone. “Really, it’s not as bad as it looks. Just a run-in with some rando on the street.”

Everyone’s reactions vary, but it’s the look in Selina’s eyes that strikes you the hardest. Selina’s weary gaze peeks out from behind her hands, and the sight makes your face crumple.

“Pull off your hood,” Selina commands, icy and devoid of warmth. As she straightens in her chair, her blood-red nails dig into the mahogany table, turning her knuckles as pale as frost.

You keep your gaze fixed on the polished marble floor, scuffing the dried mud across its pristine surface. The silence in the room grows heavier with each passing second.

“Take off the damn hood and show me your face!”

Scowling and clenching your jaw, you yank the hood off. As it falls away, the full extent of your injuries is laid bare. Selina’s eyes widen as they take in the black eye, the bruises, and the cuts that mar your face. Her shock quickly morphs into a deepening scowl, her lips trembling as she fights to control her rising anger.

Everyone waiting for the outburst that is sure to follow.

Instead, Selina’s hands fly to cover her face, and she looks as though she might fall apart at any moment.

Bruce stares at you with something akin to horror.

Before anyone can react further, Damian abruptly stands, his chair scraping against the floor. Without a word, he strides over to you, wrapping an arm around your waist and guiding you out of the room.

His muttered words are barely audible, “I’ll take care of their injuries.”

Bruce moves back to Selina’s side, gently wrapping an arm around her shoulder as he tries to offer comfort.

You can hear his soft, reassuring whisper as you walk away, “You can stay for the night. It’s too late to head out now. Give her some time.”

Selina, her face still pale and troubled, nods gratefully, her gaze tracking Damian as he helps you toward the manor’s second floor.

Damian ushers you into his room, the door closing behind you with a decisive click. He motions to the bed, and you sink onto it with a heavy sigh, the weight of the day dragging at your limbs.

You watch Damian retreat to the bathroom, your gaze lingering on the raw, bloodied skin of your knuckles, tinged with a gnawing sense of guilt.

Moments later, he returns with a first aid kit in hand. He kneels before you, reaching out to tug off your jacket, but you quickly shake your head, not wanting him to discover the suit beneath.

“I’m going to change in the bathroom,” you rasp. Damian silently nods, moving to his closet and pulling out one of his cotton shirts and boxers. He hands them to you with a resigned sigh and leans against the wall beside the bathroom door, giving you the privacy you need.

You take the clothes from Damian and head to the bathroom. As you push open the door, the dim light casts long shadows across the tiled floor. You deliberately avoid meeting your reflection in the mirror, not wanting to confront the full extent of the mess you’re in.

Once inside, you drop Damian’s shirt and boxers onto the floor, followed by your jacket, shirt, and pants. The fabric makes a soft rustling sound as it lands. With a deep, steadying breath, you begin peeling off your suit, slow and painstaking.

As the suit peels away from your skin, the blood and sweat that have soaked into it reveal the severity of your injuries. You wince as the cut on your side comes fully into view, a raw, angry red line that stretches from just below your rib cage to the middle of your side. It looks even worse up close—jagged and still oozing a bit despite the healing process.

You quickly change into Damian’s boxers, opting to keep the shirt off for now. You carefully bundle your suit and hide it under your jacket and pants, folding it as neatly as you can manage. With a deep breath, you step back into the room.

Damian’s eyes narrow as he assesses the cut on your side, now reduced to a four-inch scar due to your enhanced healing abilities. His gaze is hard, and you can almost see the weight of the lecture that would have come if he’d seen the injury in its original, more severe state.

“Sit down,” Damian finally speaks, his voice firm. He begins to open the first aid kit, movements slow. You drop your ruined clothes in a far corner and plop back down on his bed, rubbing your hands together nervously.

A beat passes as Damian finishes cleaning the wound and reaches for the anesthesia, preparing to start stitching you up. You shake your head and push his hand away. “I can take it.”

“No,” Damian scowls and continues his work. He applies the anesthesia despite your protests, injecting it around the wound to numb the area. The needle pierces your skin with a sharp sting, followed by a dull, throbbing sensation as the anesthetic begins to take effect.

He sets the syringe aside and picks up a pair of sterilized tweezers and needle and thread. You watch as he carefully makes the first stitch, his hands steady and precise. The thread pulls tight, closing the wound with a series of tight, even stitches.

His long lashes flutter over his hooded eyes with each focused blink, his emerald gaze intense and filled with concern. The warm ambient light of the room casts a gentle glow on his deep tan skin, accentuating the chiseled contours of his face in a soft, almost ethereal light.

The beam of light highlights the light almost invisible scar that stretches from his cheekbone to his crooked nose, tracing the elegant curve of his cheekbone and the strong, defined line of his jaw. Your gaze drifts to his full lips, noting the perfect cupid’s bow of his upper lip.

His hair is meticulously styled, with longer strands on top falling in inky, sleek waves across his forehead, remnants of gel catching the light. Damian’s thick, well-kept hair frames his face like brush strokes, adding to his strikingly handsome appearance.

Unable to hold yourself back, you raise a hand to cup his cheek. Damian hums, a low, soothing sound that rumbles in his chest. He keeps his eyes focused on your wound but tilts his head slightly to press a soft, tender kiss to your wrist.

With the stitches complete, Damian shifts his attention to bandaging the wound. He secures the bandage, his fingers lingering a moment longer than necessary as he smooths out the edges. Finally, he raises his head and meets your gaze, eyes conveying everything he can’t say aloud.

Exhausted and overwhelmed, you slump into Damian’s embrace, dropping your hands onto his shoulders. He responds instinctively, taking your hands in his. Large, calloused fingers gently lift yours, pressing a tender kiss to each of them before moving to softly kiss your bruised knuckles.

With a whisper of your name, Damian draws your hands over his shoulders. You smile, sinking deeper into his embrace, arms draped over his strong back. Damian holds you close, lifting you off the bed as he pulls you into a hug. His arms wound up around your waist, pulling you tighter against him.

“You know, trying to keep secrets from me is pointless,” Damian murmurs, a thinly veiled threat in his words peppering kisses up the side of your neck. “I am the son of the greatest detective in the world. I will find out what happened.”

You chuckle softly, feeling the tension ease a bit. “Yeah, yeah, I know. Just let me hold you, you insufferable know-it-all.”

Damian’s grip tightens slightly. His forehead rests against yours, hearts swimming in his emerald eyes. “You’re lucky I tolerate your nonsense. But seriously, you need to start talking.”

“Maybe later,” you reply, smiling against his shoulder. “Right now, I just need you.”

༻⊰───⋅

An hour later, it’s already 1 AM, but you and Damian are still awake, watching a show on his television. You’re curled up together on his bed, the flickering light from the screen painting the room in shifting hues of blue and gray, casting gentle shadows that dance across the walls.

You rest your head against Damian’s chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your cheek. His arm is wrapped around your shoulders, holding you close. Despite the late hour, the warmth and comfort of his embrace keep you from drifting off.

“This show is surprisingly bearable,” Damian murmurs.

You smile, nuzzling closer. “Told you it was worth a watch. Thanks for staying up with me.”

Damian’s fingers gently stroke your hair, each touch a soothing rhythm against your scalp. “Of course I’d do it, even if it means enduring your rather questionable taste in television.”

You scoff, pretending to be wounded. “Questionable taste? This show is a gem. You just don’t want to admit I’ve expanded your horizons.”

Damian raises an eyebrow, a teasing glint in his eyes as he gives your shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Expanded my horizons? More like subjected me to a marathon of pedestrian entertainment.”

You roll your eyes, a smile tugging at your lips despite his words. The episode continues, the soft hum of the TV blending with the comforting rhythm of Damian’s breathing. The earlier tension and worry seem to dissolve into the background, replaced by a quiet intimacy.

Damian’s hand moves slowly, slipping beneath the hem of your shirt. His thumb begins to trace gentle, deliberate patterns on your back. You shiver slightly at the unexpected sensation, a delicate ripple of warmth spreading through you. His touch is soft yet firm, spelling out something with careful precision.

Though you don’t fully grasp the intent behind his touch, Damian’s fingers trace a delicate script across your skin, inscribing the words of Talia’s favorite Arabic love poem onto your back.

“My life shall be sacrificed for her beauty,” his thumb whispers across your skin, “my blood shall be spilled freely for her, and though I burn for her painfully, like a candle, none of my days shall ever be free of this pain. Let me love, oh my God, love for love’s sake, and make my love a hundred times as great as it was and is.”

The gentle pressure of his touch, the rhythmic way his thumb moves, slowly eases you into sleep. As each verse of the poem is imprinted on your skin, you find yourself drifting off, nestled against his chest. Damian tenderly presses his lips to your temple, wishing you sweet dreams.

༻⊰───⋅

Thursday, 3:02 AM - Damian's Room, Wayne Manor.

Dick moves stealthily down the moonlit hallway, his footsteps muffled against the plush carpet. He reaches Damian’s door and pushes it open with a gentle nudge. Despite his careful approach, the old hinges protest with a loud, protesting creak, shattering the quiet of the night and immediately stirring Damian from his sleep.

The sudden noise jolts Damian awake, his reflexes kicking in. His eyes snap open, and in a heartbeat, his muscles tense as he instinctively tightens his protective embrace around you. The world outside fades as his focus zeroes in on the intruder.

Damian’s gaze narrows into a steely glare as he locks onto Dick. In a seamless, fluid motion, he throws aside the blankets and reaches beneath the bed, his hand closing around the hilt of a gleaming katana.

Without hesitation, he draws the blade with a swift, practiced flick, sending the katana arcing through the air toward Dick.

SHINK!

Dick stumbles back, raising his hands in a defensive gesture. The katana thuds harmlessly into the wall beside him, its sharp edge embedded in the wood just inches from his head.

"Such a dramatic wake-up call… Good morning to you too," Dick grins, clearly used to this routine. “Alright. I know it’s late, but Selina is still up. I think she wants to talk to Y/N.”

Damian’s snarl is a low, dangerous rumble. “If you wake her, I will cut your hands off.”

Dick raises an eyebrow, clearly unfazed by the threat. “Come on, baby bird. It’s not that big of a deal. Just let her know she’s needed.”

Damian’s eyes remain locked on Dick, a burning intensity that could have melted steel. Yet, after a long, tense moment, he grudgingly nods, the anger in his posture easing ever so slightly. With careful precision, he unwinds himself from the cocoon of blankets that envelops you, making sure not to jostle you awake.

!!!

But as Damian shifts, your senses stir, your eyes fluttering open to the dim light of the room. Your hand moves instinctively, reaching out to grasp Damian’s wrist, your fingers curling around him with a surprising strength. The sudden contact startles Damian, and he pauses, his gaze softening as he looks down at you.

Confusion and concern flash across your face as you murmur, “Dames?”

He pauses, his gaze softening as he looks down at you, his eyes reflecting a tender regret. “It’s okay. I apologize for waking you, but Miss Kyle is calling for you.”

You tense immediately, and Damian feels a pang of guilt unfurl in his gut for disrupting your rest.

You sigh softly and rise slowly, wincing slightly as though the wound still bothers you. Although your injury has healed, you keep up the act, unwilling to make it too obvious that you’re fine. You know you’re on thin ice, and the last thing you want is to make things more suspicious.

Damian instinctively moves to support you, his hand steadying your back with a reassuring touch as you rise. Dick, lingering at the doorway, casts an apologetic glance your way.

Damian helps you to your feet, his touch steady and reassuring. He retrieves his soccer jacket from a nearby chair and drapes it around your shoulders with a gentle, almost reverent touch. The jacket, well-worn and carrying the faint scent of his cologne, envelops you in its soft, reassuring warmth.

As you and Damian approach the door to his room, you hesitate and turn to him.

“I think I need to handle this alone,” you say quietly. “Can you wait here?”

Damian's eyes narrow slightly, and he hesitates, his protective instincts flaring.

“Are you sure?” he asks, running a hand up your back.

You give him a reassuring smile. “Yes, it’s better this way. I’ll be fine.”

Damian’s expression softens reluctantly. “Alright. I will be right here if you need me, beloved.”

You watch as Damian retreats to his room, his hand sliding around the katana lodged in the doorframe. With a smooth, deliberate motion, he withdraws the blade, the metal glinting momentarily before the door closes softly behind him. Dick, meanwhile, falls into step beside you and guides you down the corridor. His presence is steady and reassuring, a calming force in the tense atmosphere.

As you walk, Dick leans in slightly, his voice a low murmur. “Your mom’s been on edge all night. I’m… not sure what’s going on, but she made it clear she wanted to talk to you immediately.”

You nod, feeling a knot of anxiety tighten in your stomach. “I figured as much,” you reply, trying to keep your tone steady.

Dick’s expression turns serious, but a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “You really gave us a scare,” he says, his tone softening. “Just remember, as a future Mrs. Wayne, we’ve got your back, no matter what.”

You chuckle softly, the warmth of his words offering a small measure of comfort. Taking a deep breath, you steel yourself for the conversation ahead as you reach the door to Selina’s room.

You turn the knob and push the door open.

Tall windows, framed by heavy drapes, stand slightly ajar, allowing the Gotham breeze to drift through the room. The curtains flutter rhythmically, whispering softly against the glass panes. Selina stands by the window, her silhouette etched sharply against the city’s glittering skyline. Her back is to you, tense and rod-straight.

The door clicks shut behind you, and she turns her head slightly, her gaze meeting yours with a cool, unreadable intensity.

"Are you going to start talking, or am I going to have to drag it out of you?”

“I was just—” you stammer, struggling to find the right words. “I passed by, okay? I saw the situation and I had to intervene—”

Selina cuts you off with a sharp twist of her head. “I have eyes. I know what happened. I was informed about a tech shipment—an underground tech shipment by the docks. It was infiltrated. They found all the men webbed. Webbed. To the walls and floors. Don’t lie to me, honey.”

You sigh, the weight of the truth settling heavily on your shoulders. “Yeah. Okay,” you admit, your voice trembling despite your efforts to stay composed. “It… was planned.”

Selina’s eyes narrow dangerously as she strides towards you, heels clicking sharply against the floors. Her silhouette, framed by the soft, muted glow of the city lights filtering through the window, looms larger than life.

“Did you have a single clue as to whose men those were?” she demands, her voice slicing through the silence like a whip crack.

“I knew,” you say quietly, “I knew they were connected to Black Mask. It was a tip-off, and I thought if I could just—”

“You thought? You thought what? That you could handle it alone?” Selina’s eyes flash. “This isn’t some playground for you to experiment with your powers. You’re dealing with dangerous people—people who won’t hesitate to kill. And if you get yourself hurt—or worse—what good are you to anyone?”

You lower your eyes, feeling the sting of her words as if each one were a reprimand meant to cut deeper. “I know, I’m sorry. I didn’t think—”

“Sorry isn’t going to undo this mess!” she snaps, her hands gripping the edge of a table.

A hand tangles itself into her hair, strands of hair failing over her gaze. “Do you have any idea what you’ve put us through? What you’ve risked by acting recklessly? I’m not just scolding you because I’m angry. I’m scared. You’re my responsibility”

Your anger surges, and you shout, “I know, Mom! I know!” The words escape before you can stop them.

Selina’s expression shifts from anger to hurt, her eyes momentarily softening before hardening again. “Don’t take that tone with me."

“Excuse me?” you snap, stepping closer. “You think you’re the only one who’s ever lost something? Every time I bring up my mother, you just give me the bare minimum! I was going to start digging eventually.”

Selina’s eyes widen, a mix of hurt and frustration flashing across her face. “You think I’m holding back information from you? I’m trying to protect you! When your mother died, I promised myself I wouldn’t let anyone else I cared about get hurt."

“We’re so past that! I’m already knee-deep in this world,” you say desperately, your voice rising. “Mom, look at me! Just look! I have Spider DNA in my veins. My boyfriend is a vigilante. I’ve faced kidnappings and attempts on my life ever since I was born! You can’t keep treating me like a child who needs to be sheltered from reality.”

“I raised you! ” Selina screams, raw and primal, the words tearing from her throat with a force that leaves you momentarily stunned. “I gave up everything to keep you safe, to try and shield you from the worst parts of this life because I couldn’t bear to lose you too!”

Her voice shatters mid-sentence, the tears slipping from her eyes despite her best efforts to hold them back. But she doesn’t stop, pushing through, her words tumbling out in a frantic, desperate rush. “Every time you put yourself at risk, it’s like ripping open a wound that never heals! Don’t you get that? I can’t—I won’t—lose you, too!”

The raw emotion in her voice shatters your anger, melting it away like ice under a warm sun. You step forward, your movements gentle as you grab onto her shoulders, guiding her down into a chair.

“I know, Ma,” you murmur, your voice softening as you try to soothe her. “I know it’s okay. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. I’m sorry.”

Selina breathes heavily, her anger still simmering just beneath the surface. “I know. I know you’ve been through so much. It’s just—I don’t want you to be a target for Black Mask. He’s a fucking monster, and I didn’t want you to be in his crosshairs.”

“I’m already in his crosshairs,” you whisper, bending down and reaching into your sock, where you’ve hidden the flash drive containing the information you retrieved from the warehouse. You had tucked it in earlier while changing in the bathroom.

“This,” you continue, holding up the small device, “is information on all his future activities. This was the mission I had earlier.”

Selina’s eyes widen in alarm, her fear quickly reigniting into fury. “Have you put no thought into the rules I set? Putting yourself in that kind of danger—”

“Danger I’m already in,” you cut her off. “Danger I’m about to face.”

"Y/N," Selina hisses out in warning, her eyes flashing dangerously, fangs glinting in the moonlight like a cornered cat.

“What? You think you can stop me?” you scowl as she stands. “I’m done playing by your rules. And if you get in my way, I won’t hesitate to take you down.”

Selina’s eyes narrow, and a scornful smile twists on her lips.

"Prove it."

“What?” you manage to choke out.

Without a word, she launches herself toward you. Her foot whips out in a sharp, hard kick, sending you reeling backward. You hit the small balcony with a heavy thud, the harsh chill of the metal biting into your skin.

A pained grunt escapes you as you scramble to regain your footing, the cold air wrapping around you like a bitter embrace.

"Prove it, honey," Selina taunts, her voice dripping with contempt as she saunters toward you. She draws her claws with a slow, deliberate motion, the metal gleaming ominously in the dim light. “Show me you’ve got some fight.”

Before you can fully recover, Selina is on you again. You barely evade her claws, landing heavily on the cold metal railings. The chill bites into your feet, but you push off the railing with a powerful leap, ready to re-engage.

Selina's leg sweeps toward you with brutal intent, aiming to knock you off balance. Reacting quickly, you shoot a web to the railing, swinging yourself back into position and avoiding her strike.

You retaliate with a hard kick to her chest. The impact sends Selina sprawling, her body slamming into the ground. She rolls to absorb the blow, springing back up.

Her eyes flash with anger as she leaps from the balcony’s ledge, executing a high-spinning kick. You twist in mid-air, grabbing the edge of the balcony to dodge her attack and pulling yourself back onto solid ground.

“If you try to stop me, if you try to control me, you’ll only push me further away,” you shout, breath coming in sharp bursts. “And I promise, I’ll fight back with everything I’ve got.”

"Then fight!"

As she swings at you again, you snatch her wrist, twisting it with a sharp, decisive motion. With a sudden push, you force her own claws against her, the cold metal slicing into her shoulder.

Selina hisses in pain, her body recoiling as she shoves you away. The razor edges of her claws carve a deep, angry line across her shoulder, a vivid stripe of crimson blooming against her skin and staining her outfit.

The sight of it catches you off guard, a sharp pang of guilt gripping you as her pain registers. You stand frozen, eyes locked on the streaks of red that disrupt the perfection of her skin.

“Mom—” your throat tightens. “I’m so—”

Selina starts to smile, a small, almost reluctant grin that slowly grows wider. The sight is so unexpected that it momentarily takes you aback. Then, much to your surprise, she begins to laugh—a rich, genuine sound filled with a mix of relief, amusement, and something deeper you can’t quite place.

“You think this is funny?!” you exclaim, bewildered and on the verge of anger.

Selina looks at you with a bitter smile, her laughter fading. She clutches her bleeding shoulder, her expression softening as she lets out a long sigh.

“You really are my daughter,” she murmurs.

You slowly ease from your defensive stance, confusion furrowing your brows.

“Alright, fine. Point proven,” she continues, voice gentler now. “Trying to cage you would only make you fight harder to claw your way out. Literally. I should know better than anyone how that feels.”

“O… kay?” you mutter, still grappling with the sudden shift in her demeanor. “So, I guess we’ve proven my point. What now?”

“Now,” she says slowly, “we talk. Like sane adults. No more clawing each other’s faces off.”

༻⊰───⋅

An hour later, both of you sit on the edge of the bed, cradling cups of warm jasmine tea from the tea set provided in your room—because, of course, each guest room in the Wayne Manor has one.

The steam rises gently from the cups, warming your fingers and offering a soothing contrast to the cool air. Selina sits across from you, her shoulder wrapped in bandages.

As you sit on the edge of the bed, you fill Selina in on everything that’s happened: the mugging with Morgan, the shooting when you saved her, and the whole "guy in the chair" thing. You’re honest about all the other stuff and the support you’ve received, but you leave out the fact that Tony Stark knows your secret identity, keeping that bit to yourself for now.

Selina stares at her cup of tea, her eyes wide with disbelief. The steady ticking of a clock fills the room, punctuating the silence as she processes what you've just shared.

“So, you’ve been pulling all the strings?” she asks. "Orchestrating all of this?"

You lick your lips, choosing your words carefully. Orchestrating is a strong word. More like everything is falling into place. But that does sound better.

“Something like that,” you say, nodding.

Selina blinks, taking a slow, contemplative sip of her tea. “Trying to rein you in would be a lost cause at this point,” she says, setting her cup down. “So, what exactly is the plan from here?”

You place your cup back onto its saucer with a soft clink, the porcelain’s gentle chime briefly breaking the quiet. “I need to dig deeper into Black Mask’s operations. With Morgan’s help, I’ve got the tech and the intel, but there’s still a lot we don’t know.”

Selina nods, tracing a finger along the rim of her cup, her gaze distant. “Batman will notice. The moment you step out into the city proper, you’re going to be a target. And once you’re on his radar, a contingency plan will be set.”

You stay silent, fiddling with your fingers.

Selina’s gaze hardens. “And that’s what worries me. Bruce is just a man—no powers, no special DNA. But if he sets his mind to something, he can take anyone down. I don’t want you caught in that crossfire.”

You open your mouth, but Selina cuts you off.

“That’s why I’ve had my own contingency plan in case Gotham ever fell apart.”

You glance at her, a thread of dread weaving itself into your thoughts. “Contingency plan?”

Selina nods, her tone heavy. “When I first took you in, my plan was to leave Gotham as soon as possible. But then the Catwoman thing happened, and I got… sentimental. I couldn’t bring myself to leave. Still, I made sure we had a backup.”

“Backup? What do you mean?”

Selina’s expression softens slightly. “I bought an apartment in Metropolis. It was supposed to be a safehouse—somewhere to go if things got too dangerous here. I even set up fake identities for us, just in case we needed to disappear fast.”

“Metropolis?” you ask, your disbelief coming through with a half-smile. “Seriously?”

Selina winces, her expression sours. “Yes, it was meant to be a last resort. If things ever got too out of control, or if our secrets got out, it was our escape plan. I didn’t want us to be hunted down. I wanted us to have a safe place to go.”

She cracks her knuckles, releasing some of the tension in her hands.

“It’s still an option if things get too messy. But for now, I’ll help you as much as I can here."

༻⊰───⋅

Damian walks up the stairs, his steps muted against the polished wood. In his hand, he clutches a thick blanket he’s taken from the storeroom. The absence of your presence has made his room feel uncomfortably cold, and he refuses to go back to sleep without you there.

As he nears the guest room where you and Selina are deep in conversation, he slows his pace, the soft hum of your voices drifting through the slightly ajar door.

He knows he should respect your privacy—a lesson he’s learned the hard way after being caught tailing you during patrols more than once. But his curiosity tugs at him.

He lingers outside the room, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, straining to catch snippets of the conversation drifting through the slightly ajar door.

“That’s why I’ve had my own contingency plan in case Gotham ever fell apart.”

The voices are muffled, but Damian can detect the guilt in Selina’s tone.

“Contingency plan?”

There was a pause.

“When I first took you in, my plan was to leave Gotham as soon as possible. But then the Catwoman thing happened, and I got… sentimental. I couldn’t bring myself to leave. Still, I made sure we had a backup.”

“Backup? What do you mean?”

“I bought an apartment in Metropolis. It was supposed to be a safehouse—somewhere to go if things got too dangerous here. I even set up fake identities for us, just in case we needed to disappear fast.”

Damian freezes.

"Metropolis? Really?"

Selina’s voice carries a note of sorrow. “Yes, it was meant to be a last resort. If things ever got too out of control, or if our secrets got out, it was our escape plan. I didn’t want us to be hunted down. I wanted us to have a safe place to go.”

Damian remains frozen in place.

Hunt? Who was hunting you down that made Selina think it was necessary to move rather than seek help from his father? Did she not trust Batman's abilities? Did she not trust his?

His grip on the blanket tightens until his knuckles turn white, the rough fabric digging into his palms like a searing brand. A bitter, acrid taste rises in his throat, mingling with the bile of frustration and helplessness.

Had he not proven his devotion enough? Each time he threw himself into the fray, each time he fought with everything he had, did she still doubt his ability to protect you? His every act of defiance, every sacrifice, should have been proof—shouldn’t it?

Did she think that running away was the answer? Did she believe that abandoning Gotham and leaving him and Bruce out of the fight was a better choice? Her secretive plans, her carefully crafted illusions of safety, were they really a solution?

Panic starts to claw at him, twisting his insides into a tight knot. Or maybe it was because of him?

Gods, he knew you were too good for him, but was he so inadequate that she thought hiding you away was the only option? The thoughts gnaw at him like ravenous insects, feasting on his insecurities. He can almost feel the raw, hot sting of failure as it eats away at him from within.

He remembers the first day he was left with Bruce, the way his own father looked at him, the way his brothers looked at him—like something about him was inherently wrong.

He was the outsider, the boy who had to claw and tear and rip his way into their world, proving his worth to a family he barely understood, a family that barely understood him.

Every mistake he made, every bout of uncontrollable rage, felt like blood on his hands—dark, sticky, and impossible to wash away. Another mark on his name.

And now, Selina’s confession feels like another blow to his fragile sense of self-worth. If even she doesn’t trust him, if even she thinks he’s not enough to protect you, what does that say about him?

His legs grow numb, his head spins with disorientation. The edges of his vision blur, and each breath comes in shallow, frantic bursts. He stumbles forward, driven by an overwhelming need to escape. His body moves on its own, carrying him towards his room.

Was he what Selina was protecting you from?

The thought strikes him like a physical blow, leaving him reeling. The blood, the violence, the cold efficiency with which he was taught to kill—it all comes rushing back. Damian was trained to be an assassin, raised by the League of Shadows to be a weapon, a tool of destruction.

He feels numb as he stumbles into his room, the familiar surroundings doing little to comfort him. He collapses onto the floor, his legs giving way as he sinks to his knees. Clutching the blanket to his chest, he tries to draw some warmth from its fabric, but it feels like an inadequate shield against the cold, hollow emptiness that gnaws at him from within.

The voices of doubt and self-loathing grow louder, echoing in his mind. Damian doesn't know how long he's been sitting on the floor, trying to control his breathing. Time seems to blur, each second stretching into an eternity. His thoughts spiral, a maelstrom of fear and insecurity, until he hears the soft creak of the door opening.

You stumble in, and he freezes.

Your eyes widen as you take in his disheveled state, the blanket clutched tightly in his hands, his face pale and eyes wide with panic. You rush to his side, dropping to your knees beside him.

"Dames," you whisper. "What happened? Are you okay?"

He tries to speak, but the words catch in his throat. Instead, he shakes his head, unable to meet your gaze. He doesn't deserve to.

You hush gently, raising your hands to his face. "Can I touch you? You’re having a panic attack, baby."

He nods, his breath still coming in shallow gasps. Your hands are warm and steady as you cup his face, your thumbs brushing lightly against his cheeks.

"Look at me," you murmur softly. "Focus on me. Breathe with me."

He struggles to follow your instructions, his eyes locking onto yours. You take a deep breath in, exaggerating the motion, and slowly exhale. He tries to mimic you, his breaths hitching but gradually evening out.

"That's it," you encourage. "In and out, nice and slow. You're doing great."

Damian's grip on the blanket loosens slightly as he continues to focus on your breathing, finding a semblance of calm in the steady rhythm. Your presence anchors him, drawing him away from the chaotic storm in his mind.

"You’re safe," you whisper. "I’m here with you. Just keep breathing."

Gradually, the tension in his body begins to ease. He leans into your touch, his forehead resting against yours. The panic that had gripped him so fiercely started to ebb away, replaced by a fragile sense of security.

He sits there, the silence heavy around him, before his voice breaks through it, rough and raw. "Are you scared of me?" he asks.

The question hangs in the air. He doesn’t mention what he overheard, but the question reveals the depth of his doubt.

You gently brush a strand of hair from his face, your eyes soft with understanding. "Scared of you? Damian, I’m not scared of you."

He clenches his fists, the blanket still wrapped around his hands. "I… I can’t seem to do anything right. It’s like I’m always falling short."

"You’re not falling short," you reassure him softly. "You’re human, and you’re trying your best."

You lean in, your lips pressing against his in a tender, reassuring kiss. As you pull back, your eyes are filled with a deep sorrow.

"Can I ask what brought this on?" you whisper.

Damian takes a deep breath, his gaze shifting to the floor as he gathers his thoughts.

“I overheard part of a conversation between you and Selina,” Damian begins, his voice sharp and dripping with bitter resentment. “She spoke of a contingency plan involving an apartment in Metropolis and expressed concerns about someone hunting you down. If… If she felt the need to protect you from something by leaving, does that mean that I’m not enough? That I’m not capable of keeping you safe?”

His words come out with an edge. He meets your gaze with eyes darkened by hurt and anger. “I wanted to be someone you could rely on, someone who could safeguard you, not merely another liability. But now it seems I’m just… inadequate. As if my dedication and efforts amount to nothing.”

You start to speak, but Damian interrupts. “Who’s hunting you down? What’s going on? Beloved, I’ve let you into my life—please, let me into yours.”

“I know, baby,” you say softly, running a hand through your tousled hair as you try to gather your thoughts. “Alright, okay, I need to tell you about something important. It’s about the spider vigilante, alright? There’s something you need to understand.”

“Again with this?” Damian scoffs, his hurt evident as he starts to rise from the floor. The movement makes you panic, and you grab his arm, pulling him back down.

“Nonono, wait,” you say urgently, trying to steady your voice. “Forget that for now. There’s something else I need to talk about—something personal. It’s about me, and I need you to listen.”

You take a deep breath, trying to keep your voice steady. “Okay. There’s a lot more going on than you realize. I’m investigating Black Mask. He’s got some operation threatening Gotham, and it’s connected to everything that’s been happening lately. I’m trying to figure out what he’s up to, and…”

You pause, struggling to find the right words. “And I might have something to do with that vigilante spider you’ve seen around.”

Damian’s eyes widen in surprise, a flicker of confusion crossing his face. He stands there, his mind racing as he pieces together the implications of your confession.

The increased absences, the unexplained injuries—suddenly, everything starts to make sense. He can’t believe he didn’t see it sooner. How did he not connect the dots? The vigilance, the secrecy—it all makes sense now.

You’re the one being hunted.

Brows threaded together, Damian steps closer, taking your hands in his. His fingers brush over your skin, gently massaging small circles.

“I understand,” he says with a grave tone. “I suspected as much. You don’t need to explain yourself, beloved.”

You smile in relief, misinterpreting his seriousness for support of your dual life as Spidey.

“I was going to tell you,” you say, your tone warm and reassuring. “Just… couldn’t find the right moment.”

Damian’s eyes soften, but a steely resolve glimmers within them as he presses a kiss to your knuckles, his lips lingering.

If the spider is the threat, then it’s the spider he’ll take down.

༻⊰───⋅

Thursday, 7:53 AM - Stark Industries, Gotham City.

Hours later, Damian pulls up to the sleek, glass-fronted Stark Industries building. The structure towers above, its façade a mesmerizing expanse of reflective glass panels that catch and scatter the sunlight, creating a dazzling play of colors. A polished steel entrance welcomes visitors, a bustling crowd already walking in and out.

As the car comes to a smooth stop, he turns to you with a soft, reassuring smile. You reach over, pressing an affectionate kiss to his lips.

His fingers gently brush your cheek as he murmurs against your lips, “Be careful.”

“I will,” you beam, pulling back to meet his eyes. “Promise.”

With one last lingering look, Damian reaches over to unlock the car door. You open it and step out onto the curb, unloading your bags. Damian gives you a final wave as he shifts the car into gear, gliding smoothly down the street and disappearing into the city’s bustling flow.

You clutch your bags tightly in your hands. Exhaustion pulls at your every muscle—patrol, the fight, and the travel have left you feeling like you're on the edge of collapse. After everything that went down last night, you can’t help but feel a bit relieved about the month off from school, courtesy of your internship.

Bags under your eyes betray the sleepless night, while the oversized shirt and sweatpants you’ve borrowed from Damian make you look more like you’ve just rolled out of bed than a professional intern.

Technically, you did roll out of bed, having snagged only about three hours of sleep.

How the hell did Batman and the Robins manage to juggle this kind of life week in and week out? Right now, you feel like death is just a breath away, waiting to claim you.

“Hey, kiddo!” Tony Stark’s voice calls out from a distance, cutting through your fog of exhaustion. “You planning to stand there and stare at the building all day?”

He steps out of his sleek convertible, tossing his keys to the valet with a flick of his wrist that’s more showmanship than necessity. As he strides towards you, his eyes do a quick sweep over your state.

“I offer you the top spot in my program, and this is how you show up?” Tony says, giving you a light shove on the shoulder.

You give a weary sigh and shuffle alongside him into the building. “Good to see you too, Mr. Stark.”

Tony continues with a smirk, “Don’t worry, you’re not the first intern to look like they’ve been dragged through a war zone.”

He leads you into the sleek, glass-walled elevator, pressing the button for the upper floors. The elevator hums softly as it ascends.

You turn to him, trying to muster the energy to keep up with his banter. “So, where’s Morgan?”

“Working on your new tech stuff,” Tony replies. “She’s buried under a mountain of circuits and cables. If you’re lucky, you might get to see her emerge from her tech fortress.”

The elevator doors slide open, revealing the upper floors of Stark Tower. Tony leads you down a pristine, modern hallway where glossy surfaces catch the ambient light, enhancing the tower’s futuristic vibe. He stops in front of a door adorned with a sleek plaque bearing your name.

You gawk at it, your sleep-deprived brain barely processing the sight. “Damn.”

Tony pushes open the door, revealing a spacious, elegantly furnished room. Floor-to-ceiling windows offer a breathtaking view of the cityscape, and the room is equipped with a large, comfortable bed, a sleek desk, and a cozy seating area.

“Welcome to your new digs,” Tony says, gesturing grandly. “I’d say it’s a bit of a step up from your old place. Given your current state, though, I’d suggest you take it easy for now. Rest up, and maybe try to look less like you’ve just walked off a horror set, okay?”

Despite your exhaustion, a small but genuine smile tugs at your lips as you take in the surroundings. “Thanks, Mr. Stark. It’s really… nice.”

With a casual salute, Tony heads towards the door. “Anytime. Now, go on and get some rest. I’ll let Morgan know you’re here. If she manages to claw her way out from under her tech mountain, she might swing by to say hi.”

༻⊰───⋅

A few hours later, you’re well-rested and dressed in a much more presentable outfit: a crisp white button-up shirt with the first few buttons undone, tucked neatly into flared slacks, and paired with white sneakers.

After one last check in the mirror, you give your appearance a satisfied nod, then rub the last remnants of sleep from your eyes. You head out of your room and make your way toward the elevator.

Pressing the button, the elevator doors slide open with a smooth, hydraulic hiss. You step inside and swipe your ID card against the scanner. The elevator's high-tech screen lights up, displaying a seemingly endless list of floor options. You whistle as you scan the array, finally selecting the tech room.

Just as the elevator begins its ascent, a voice suddenly speaks up, making you jump with a startled yelp.

“Good morning!” the voice says cheerfully. “Welcome to Stark Tower. How can I assist you today?”

You quickly recognize the voice as FRIDAY, the building’s AI system. You’ve read about it in papers and seen it on TV before. The holographic interface on the screen activates, displaying a friendly, animated avatar of FRIDAY. The AI greets you with a warm, digital smile and a cheerful tone.

“Oh. Hi!” you respond, a bit thrown off. “I’m, uh, just heading to the tech room.”

“Understood,” FRIDAY replies smoothly. “I’ve already noted your arrival. The tech room is on your left once you exit the elevator. Please let me know if there’s anything else I can help with, sexiest vigilante.”

You blink at the nickname.

“That’s definitely Morgan’s touch,” you mutter.

The elevator doors slide open, revealing a workshop that looks like it’s been hit by a tornado of technology. Equipment is strewn everywhere, and tangled wires snake across the floor. In the center of the chaos, a few remains of a fire extinguisher lie scattered. Morgan is crouched in the middle of the mess, her hair a wild tangle and her face streaked with grease and soot. She’s working intently, completely absorbed in her task despite the disorder around her.

You clear your throat, and Morgan looks up, freezing mid-action. Part of her shirt is charred, and a small flame flickers from one of the devices she’s holding.

“Let’s be honest,” she says, waving a wrench at you, “you’ve seen me in worse shape.”

Shaking your head, you step into the room.

“Looks like you’ve been busy,” you remark, your eyes scanning the cluttered area.

Morgan quickly puts out the fire and brushes a few stray wires out of her path before standing up and stretching with a groan. “You wouldn’t believe the morning I’ve had. Between the latest tech malfunction and the mini-explosion, it’s been one chaotic circus.”

“Should I even ask what set off the explosion?”

Morgan chuckles dryly, wiping her hands on a grease-stained rag. “Oh, just a little experiment gone wrong. Nothing major. Just some excitement to kick off the day.” She steps over to you, grabs a case from a nearby workbench, and hands it to you with a grin.

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued, as you take the case from her. With a click, you open it to reveal a pair of sleek, high-tech glasses.

Morgan plucks them from the case and holds them up with a grin. “For you. They’re packed with all sorts of features—real-time data, targeting assistance, and even advanced communication options. Basically, they’re your new best friend in the field.”

You slip the glasses on, adjusting them to fit comfortably. The world immediately sharpens, and a translucent display overlays your vision, showing various readouts and notifications. You gasp in awe, your amazement reflected in Morgan’s fond smile as she watches your reaction.

She then moves to grab another device—a metal-looking belt that covers your entire stomach. At its center is a spider emblem. She clasps the belt around your waist and gives it a reassuring pat.

“Tell it to go on,” Morgan instructs.

Confused, you turn to her. “Huh?”

“Just think of a suit wrapping around you and command it to do so.”

You give her a skeptical look but decide to give it a try. Closing your eyes for a moment, you focus on the idea of your suit materializing.

“Activate?”

Immediately, you feel a tingling sensation as nanoparticles begin to stream from the belt, enveloping your body. The sensation is oddly comforting, like being wrapped in a warm, secure embrace. The suit materializes in shimmering panels, stretching and shaping itself around your form. The glasses transform into a sleek helmet, molding to fit your head with a satisfying click.

The entire process takes mere seconds, and when you open your eyes, you’re fully suited up.

The suit fits perfectly. The color is a deep, vibrant red that covers the majority of the suit. Black accents trace intricate web patterns that start from the center of your chest and radiate outwards.

The chest emblem is a bold, black spider, its legs extending across your torso and seamlessly merging with the web patterns. The helmet, now a sleek, black mask with a smooth, glossy finish, features white eye lenses that glow faintly. The same high-tech display you saw in your glasses is now visible in the helmet.

Morgan grins, clearly pleased with the result. “Not too shabby, right?"

"What. The. Fuck."

 ༻⊰───⋅

#damian wayne x reader #damian wayne #batfamily #dc robin #damian wayne al ghul #damian wayne imagine #selina kyle #bruce wayne #batman

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nakylvr · 1 month ago

Note

can i req gp!daniela x f!reader smut with semi-public sex when danon were at that festival or whatever bc the photo dani posted on her ig (the one on the swing) is making me feel too many things

this was lowkey one of my favs to write...thank you for requesting anon! 🫶

— CARNIVAL 🛡️

warnings/tags: language, nsfw content, f!reader, g!p!daniela, dom!daniela, sub!reader, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, mami kink, cumming inside

minors dni

you always enjoyed a good festival. so when you managed to score two-day tickets for you, daniela, and manon, you were ecstatic. you were one to bring a tent seeing as it went throughout the whole weekend and you had other friends who were there also, so you wanted a mutual meeting space for everyone.

for the second night, dani told you in advance that she would be there later with manon, having to stay at the house for their 1 year reunion (that was not live, as dani thoroughly explained, irritated that she would be late). so you were currently sitting outside the tent on one of the lawn chairs your friend had brought, a bit away from the crowd that was only growing as the night progressed.

"hey, yn!"

you look up hearing manon's voice, and a smile instantly forms on your face seeing her and dani walking up to you. standing up on your feet, you flatten your skirt and hold your arms out wide. manon quickly hugs you first before taking a step back and glancing around at the environment. "there's a lot more people tonight."

"well with carti headlining tonight it only makes sense," you respond as daniela silently wraps her arms around you. "hi, baby," your smile grows bigger as she rests her chin on your shoulder.

"you look really good," dani murmurs into your ear.

"thank you!" you beam as she pulls away, pecking her lips quickly. "i had a feeling you would like it."

"mm, well i do," she nods, her arms snaking around your waist. "a lot, in fact."

"i'm sure," you smile innocently at her, clearly seeing the way she was practically undressing you with her eyes. "but for now, let's go have some fun!"

after an hour or two of going on little rides and the giant swing the festival had, eating overpriced food, and hanging out, the night was nearing the time of the headliner to start. standing near the back of the crowd as the current performer finishes, daniela wraps her arms around you from behind, pulling you close against her.

"y'know we have at least fifteen minutes until the set starts," she mumbles into your ear, her fingers grazing your skin under the crop top you were wearing.

she starts leaving light kisses down your neck, and you know what she's trying to do. "you just can't keep your hands to yourself, can you?" you tilt your head to the side a bit, your hands on top of hers but not making any attempt to move her.

"not when you look this good," dani speaks quietly, her voice low so that only you can hear. "how can i when you're practically asking me to fuck you in this slutty outfit?"

"dani-"

"come with me," daniela cuts you off before you can get another word out, grabbing your hand as she starts walking away from the crowd.

"dani, where are we going?" you ask, but aren't really annoyed at her actions despite trying to be. you're not surprised, really. whenever you wore something she liked a little too much, she ended up doing this. dragging you off somewhere for a quickie before going back or going home depending on her mood. "dani," you say more sternly when she doesn't respond.

she doesn't answer you, stopping in front of the tent and unzipping it open. she gently pulls you inside before zipping it back up and closed again. turning around to face you, dani grabs you by your waist and kisses you roughly, her lips moving faster than you could keep up with.

"dani– this is way too public," you get out through kisses, your hands on her shoulders but not making any real attempt to push her off.

"no one will see," daniela murmurs, "you just gotta be quiet for me, you got that?" she says, her fingers fiddling with the hem of your shirt. "c'mon, baby. don't leave me hanging like this." she grabs one of your hands, bringing it to her visible bulge in her baggy pants.

"you're so annoying, you know that?" you reply with a non-serious eye roll.

"you love me," she whispers, pulling you into another kiss.

laying you down on the floor of the tent, you peer up at dani as she fumbles with the buttons of her pants before sliding them down her legs along with her boxers. hiking your skirt up, she groans lowly at the evident wet patch on your panties, dragging her fingers up and down your clothed slit before pushing the material aside.

with one swift thrust, you can feel every vein and ridge of her cock filling you up, leaving you letting out a sharp gasp at the sudden intrusion. "fuck..." dani breathes out. "you're always so goddamn tight," she mumbles, starting to move her hips in a fast rhythm.

"oh my god, dani–" you're cut off of your moaning when one of daniela's hands clasps over your mouth firmly.

"shh, you gotta be quiet, baby," she says to you lowly. her other hand is secured on your waist as she pounds into you at a fast pace. "ju-just be quiet f' me," she grunts, her nails digging into your soft skin.

all you can do is nod your head, your moans coming out muffled past her hand as you try to be as quiet as possible. you stare up at your girlfriend who is so focused on getting to cum as quickly as possible, little grunts and whimpers escaping her mouth as she thrusts into you. she looks so good like this, too lost in her own pleasure that she doesn't even notice the noises she's making herself.

"fuck," daniela curses, leaning down and putting her face in the crook of your neck, her hips showing no sign of slowing down anytime soon. "god, you feel so good, baby."

your arms instinctively reach for her back, pulling her down closer to you while gripping her jacket tightly. your eyes roll to the back of your head when you feel the tip of her cock hit your g-spot, moaning loudly through her hand and squirming under her touch. "fuck...mami," your words come out barely audible through the muffled voice of yours.

"shit," dani hisses into your ear hearing the title fall from your lips. "you always take me so good, so good, baby," she mumbles into your neck. your walls spasm around her cock at the words, clenching tightly causing her to groan lowly. "fuck..you gonna cum, baby?"

you nod your head feverishly, your grip on her jacket getting tighter as your moaning comes out louder as her hand loosens slightly from being so focused on getting off. "please," you whimper softly. "please, mami, 'm so close, please,"

"go on, baby," she tells you. her thrusts are becoming more sloppy and erratic as her breathing gets heavy against the skin of your neck, her hand leaving your mouth and trailing down your chest, reaching under your shirt and fondling your breast in her hand. your body shakes under her as your eyes roll back and you cum on her cock, your jaw falling slack in a silent scream. "fuck, 'm gonna cum. let-let me cum in you, please, baby," dani borderline begs, getting interrupted by more sighs and whimpers leaving her mouth.

"mhm," is all you can hum, nodding your head as your hand finds her hair and runs through it.

a long groan comes from dani as she thrusts into you one last time, filling you up and painting your walls white with her cum. panting heavily into your neck, she slowly pulls out of you, causing you to let out a quiet whimper at the feeling disappearing. pulling away from your neck, her hand moves up to cup your cheek, kissing you deeply.

"i love you," she mumbles against your lips, parting from the kiss. sitting back, she pulls her pants back on and buttons them up before pulling your skirt back down and flattening it, a small smirk on her face as she sees her cum dripping out from you. "don't worry, baby. we can leave as soon as carti's set is over."

you can't find it in you to roll your eyes at her words, merely nodding your head and letting her grab your hand to pull you up. "you're so annoying," you mumble, leaning against her.

"yet you love me," she whispers, smiling at you.

"i do."

#katseye x reader #katseye imagines #katseye scenarios #daniela avanzini x reader #daniela x reader #daniela scenarios #daniela imagine #request #nsfw.

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sturnioz · 5 months ago

Text

♯┆fully introducing. . . fwb!chris .ᐟ

you and fwb!chris stopped hooking up after realising you were both taking things way too far, and that the arrangement was lasting longer than necessary — but when you show up at the triplets birthday party empty handed, you both know one birthday present that he'll enjoy the most.

"you're here?" chris' eyebrows raises in surprise at your arrival, but it still doesn't stop him from throwing his arm around your shoulder to coax you into a hug that you immediately return, your hands rubbing his back. "i didn't expect you to, like, be here.."

"i'm not going to miss your birthday," you say with a light laugh, pulling back from the embrace to give him a sheepish smile. "i kinda forgot to buy a present on my way here... i'm sorry."

"no — no, s'cool. don't worry about it," chris dismisses with a wave of his hand before he scratches the back of his neck, adjusting the cap on his head. "the party is about to end soon but, do you — can you stay behind when everyone leaves, or somethin'?"

"sure," you nod slowly. "i'll go wait in your room.."

you've been waiting for fifteen minutes, listening to chris' laughter echoing in the living-room as he bids everyone goodbye and thanks them for coming to his and his brother's birthday celebrations, while you mindlessly walk around his familiar bedroom, capturing the small details of the space that hasn't changed since you were last here.

the walls are still white, decorated with a few random posters of his favourite artists. he still has that neatly stacked record collection that sits in the corner, untouched and left in pristine condition, and he still has his shoe collection tucked away in the other corner, some pairs left slightly askew.

he also still has a few photo frames sitting on his desk next to his computer, and your fingers ghost over the images of him with his friends and family, the locations holding a lot of memories. but you pause when your fingertips touch a particular photo that you were certain chris wouldn't have kept, and your heart swells uncomfortably in your chest.

the photo that catches your eye is one of you and chris at a carnival, both of you wearing silly headbands and grinning widely. chris stands behind you with his arms loosely draped around your shoulders, his cheek pressed against yours. your hand rests on his arm while the other hand squeezes his jaw playfully.

staring at it, your stomach swirls with regret as you take a step back. you feel suddenly guilty for showing up at his birthday, after you were the one that decided to call it quits on your odd situation.

you and chris were friends with benefits — an arrangement that lasted much longer than either of you had originally planned. you were hooking up to satisfy your needs, fucking each other when you were sexually frustrated and in need of a release, or sometimes when you were board.

what was only supposed to be a month-long fling turned into two months, then five, then a year, and eventually nearly a year and a half.

the predicament wasn't good for either of you — feelings had spiralled out of control, and even your shared close friends had pointed out how strangely long it had been going on.

it made you feel terrible when a girl once approached you, saying she liked chris and wanted to ask him out, but couldn't due to the uncertainty around your relationship.

that exact night, you had explained to chris that maybe you had both dragged out the friends with benefits situation longer than you should have, and in doing so, were preventing each other from meeting other people. chris was confused and hesitant, but he eventually agreed, leaving you both to shake on it as you ended your friends with benefits situation.

it's been two months since then, and truthfully, you've both struggled to keep in contact with each other without things feeling awkward and whenever you share eye contact, you're reminded of the intimate moments you've shared.

it felt a dent in your friendship, but you were desperate to still keep chris as the close friend as he once was, which is why you showed up tonight, despite the complicated history.

"sorry for makin' you wait so long," you hear chris apologise behind you, and you're startled at the sudden voice, peering over your shoulder to see chris close his bedroom door behind himself with a grin. "had to help matt and nick get nate into the uber, the kid didn't wanna leave."

"you should've let him stay," you tell him with a kind smile. "then you wouldn't be alone in here for the night on your birthday."

"well, i mean, i was hopin' that you would stay with me tonight," chris admits with an airy laugh, rubbing his jaw — a familiar nervous habit you recognise from your time together. "since we, like, haven't been able to spend time together, y'know?"

"i get it," you nod in understanding, wanting nothing more than to catch up and spend time with him as well "i... i'm still sorry for not getting you a birthday present."

"you can still give me one..." chris murmurs softly as he takes a step forward, his finger scratching his cheek. your eyes widen slightly, immediately knowing what he's hinting at when you feel his hands cradle your face, his thumb pulling at your bottom lip. "you... you can give me you."

"chris..." you warn him, and your fingers curl around his wrist, but you don't pull his hands away.

"c'mon.. you don't miss it?" chris questions you and you get surprised, watching as his teeth kneads down on his bottom lip as he stands closer to you. "i miss it. a lot — more than i'd like to admit, to be honest."

"i do," you admit quietly. "but that doesn't mean we should."

"we enjoyed ourselves, we — we liked it," he states, grazing his lips over yours. "that's all that matters, right? i mean, we were fuckin' happy, so — so who cares what others think? i'd never want them like i want you.. don't you want me too?"

"you talk too much," you sigh, fisting the collar of his shirt and pulling him in for a kiss which he reciprocates almost instantly, refusing to give either of you a chance to breath as he's licking inside your mouth and kissing your lips raw.

his quick and nimble fingers are tugging down the zipper of your jeans, and you gasp when you feel his hand slip beneath the waistband of your panties, pressing his fingers to your folds and rubbing your clit in circular motions that elicits a whine from you, baffled by the fact he still knows your body so well.

he's laying you down on his unmade bed, hovering above you, resting one hand by the side of your head to keep him upright while the other plays with your pussy — the kiss hot and heavy as his fingers push through your opening, curling them and grazing the spot that has your thighs snapping shut around his hand.

chris is drinking up your moans, panting in your mouth as he grinds down on your thigh while bringing you closer and closer to your orgasm, and he's grinning against your lips as you're embarrassingly quick to cum over his fingers, the wet squelching sounds echoing throughout the quietness of his bedroom.

"yeah, that's it..." he sighs over your mouth. "good, ma.. jus' like that."

neither of you give yourself time to calm down as he's already sitting back on his knees to pull his pants and boxers down to his thighs, not wanting to waste any time in taking his clothes off fully.

you do the same, lifting your hips to pull down your own jeans and underwear, cursing under your breath when the material gets stuck around your shoes and chris laughs, helping you yank off your shoes to leave your lower half bare for him.

chris resumes his position above you — guiding himself to your slick pussy and stroking the head of his cock between your puffy folds, gathering your arousal for an easy slip in, and you wrap your thighs around his hips as he does so, the feeling of being full with his cock leaves you a moaning messy already, gripping at his shoulders as he thrusts, grunting with each deep stroke.

"chriiiis..." you mewl his name loudly and he grins, slotting his lips to yours as he pounds relentlessly, skin slapping against skin.

he's not letting up, his pace brutal when he feels your nails dig into his shoulder blades and he tastes the salty tears that slip down your cheeks from the pleasure and sensitivity of not being fucked in so long.

"so fuckin' pretty, ma," he compliments you when he parts from your lips, admiring you beneath him. his eyes dart above your head for a moment, glancing at the headboard that rattles but holds the birthday gift someone had gifted him earlier this morning, a chuckle rumbling in his chest as he shakes his head. "yeah... you're definitely my favourite birthday present."

#©sturnioz #☆ fwb!chris #★ ⋮ sturniolo hours !#★ ⋮ chris hours !#chris sturniolo smut

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miley1442111 · 7 months ago

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the picture- a.hotchner

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summary: a late night issue turns into something very nice when your boss that supposedly hates you decides to come clean.

pairing: grumpy! aaron hotchner x sunshine! reader

warnings: none

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Aaron Hotchner hated you, that was one thing you were sure of. From the morning when you would give him a small wave from your desk, one that he would never be caught dead responding to. To the evenings, when he walked straight by your desk as you wished him a good night, again, something he would never respond to.

He hated you, and you were ok with that.

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Aaron Hotchner was in love with you, that was one thing he was sure of. From your kind gestures in the mornings and evenings, to the small things you did to brighten his days. The way you smiled at every small joke Spencer made, how you geeked out with Penelope over totally niche things, how you always seemed to outrun or outperform Derek at the gym- and subsequently tease him for it all week, how you would trade recipes with David, how you shared a love of cats with Emily- always sending photos back and forth of your cats, and how you were always there for Jj when she needed a babysitter, a friend, or just someone to talk to. And… how you didn’t mind how awfully rude he was to you.

He loved you, and he was not ok with that.

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“Hotch, have you seen the picture that was on my desk? It’s a small gold frame with just a photo of me and an older woman outside the bullpen from when I first started working here?” you asked, popping your head in from outside his office.

“Y/l/n, what have I said about knocking?” He groaned, irritation flowing through him.

“Aaron, it’s 9:43pm, you’re not exactly on a work call, nor a personal one, and you’re clearly packing up. Please just answer my question.”

You’d never been so direct with Aaron. He’d never seen you get even slightly ill-tempered with anyone, let alone the slight curb of annoyance in your voice.

“No, I haven’t, sorry.” LIE. Aaron knew exactly where that picture was. It sat in the locked drawer of his desk, underneath some files of paperwork that were really just blank. Penelope had found it, and handed it off to him to put back on your desk because she had to run off. Aaron obviously didn’t put it on your desk, since it had stayed in his desk drawer for the past three days. “Maybe if you tidied your desk up, it would be easier to look?”

One thing Aaron didn’t love about you, was your habit of not keeping your desk very tidy. There were files stacked on top of more files, bright stationary and colourful trinkets Penelope had given you, as well as one small teddy bear you’d won at a carnival with Henry when you’d babysat him a few months ago. It drove him mad to see your desk get progressively worse, have Spencer help you clean it (for the most part, he was just jealous of the fun that he saw you and Spencer having when you cleaned, he wished it was him- even if his conscience wouldn’t let him admit it), then watching the mess pile up again.

You gave him a curt nod and left his office without another word, another oddity. Aaron tried to do his paperwork, but ended up watching from his window as you cleaned your desk for a whole 45 minutes, only to not find the picture.

Then he watched as tears welled up in your eyes and his heart broke. Why was this picture so important?

He pulled it out from his desk drawer and looked at it. The older woman and you looked eerily similar, and you’d taken personal leave for an entire week to go somewhere, somewhere you didn’t explain to everyone. You’ve seemed more distant, and a little less happy in recent weeks, and you've been texting and calling your sister back home a lot more often.

It clicked and he knew he had to come clean.

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He walked out of his office and stopped at your desk, putting a hand on your shoulder. You shuddered away, wiping your tears away, then looked up to see the picture. Your frown was replaced by a bright smile, your arms wrapping around his neck in a comforting hug.

“Thank you so much for finding it,” you smiled. “Thank you Aaron.”

Aaron’s brain was short-circuiting. Here you were, hugging him. His chest was against yours, his hands were on your waist, your arms were around his neck. His face slotted perfectly into the crook of your neck, where he could smell your sweet perfume. God, he loved your perfume.

“Thank you so much,” you beamed, pulling away. Aaron just nodded with an open-mouth, still slightly in shock. “You seriously don’t know how much this means to me.”

“I’m glad I could help,” he smiled politely, but couldn’t seem to pull himself away from your eyes. You were magnetic. Your beautiful face, your friendly demeanour, your gorgeous smile. Why was he denying himself the one thing he wanted? Why was he denying himself the pleasure of your company?

“Is everything alright?” you asked, noticing how the tension changed from your regular flat and slightly annoyed exterior, and changed to be something more… intimate. You suddenly realised how close he was standing, how you could feel his breath on your face, how the small freckles on his handsome face made constellations only you could see.

“Y/n…” he spoke, swallowing the lump in his throat.

“Aaron…” you responded, unable to look away from him.

Suddenly there was no gap between the two of you. Aaron’s hands had grabbed your waist and pulled you into him, kissing you passionately.

God, you loved kissing him. He loved kissing you. Win-win.

You pulled back, confusion and adrenaline running through your mind as you stared at him. You just kissed your boss- actually; your boss just kissed you.

“I’m so sorry that was-” He started but you cut him off.

“I thought you hated me.”

Aaron wracked his brain and yes, all the evidence was there. But how could you not see the hidden meanings, the secret things he did for you, the way he looked at you? Did you seriously think you just happen to get the window seat in the jet that also reclines, even though it’s Jj’s favourite spot? I don’t think so…

“I’m in love with you,” he said, breathless from the kiss. “Sorry I ever made you feel differently.”

Now it was your turn to be confused. “What?!” you squeaked.

“Do you actually want me to say it again or-?”

“You’re in love with me?” You started pacing the floor, head in your hands as you attempted to process the insane revelation Aaron had decided to drop on a Tuesday night. “But you-you hate me! Everyday I wave-” “A wave I want to return-” “Every night I say ‘good night’,” “I know I ignore it and I’m sorry-” “when I came to you with a complaint you brushed it off-” “not liking someone’s attitude is not a grounds for dismissal, as much as I wish it was-” “You tried to get me fired!”

“No I didn’t?” He sighed, exasperated. “How could I see your beautiful face everyday if I got you fired?”

You stared at him. “Fair,” you shrugged.

There was a moment of silence between the two of you.

“This is the part when you ask me out,” you whispered, a flirty smile on your face. Aaron’s cheeks blushed and it took him a few seconds to collect himself.

“Yes! Umm, Y/n, will- can I take you to dinner?” He asked, and you nodded.

“Sounds like a plan,” you smiled and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “See you tomorrow, Hotchner.”

Aaron watched as you left the bullpen, a bright smile on your face, very much looking forward to your first date.

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criminal minds masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games :)

#criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #bau team #criminal minds x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds fandom #aaron hotchner #criminal minds fic #aaron hotchner fluff #thomas gibson x reader #thomas gibson #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotch fanfiction

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ventismacchiato · 10 months ago

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RAFAYEL HEADCANONS

canon complaint, established relationship

sorry guys, can u tell i have a favorite

matching everything. phone charms. earrings. nails. socks. you name it, he’ll buy everything in two.

begs you every other day to get a matching tattoo with him. he’s even drawn up multiple designs for you to choose from and will keep asking you until you eventually agree, how could you refuse?

hates cats, says he’s allergic (he’s not) but will run out the room when your cat walks in when he’s staying over. one time you asked him to feed it when you were away on a mission and you watched through your cat cam as it took him fifteen minutes to get the bravery to even get five feet near your cat.

so very chronically online. he’s a certified yapper. you’re his only follower on his private twitter and best believe he’s posting every single thought he has, and he expects you to reply to every single one. also asks you to match profile photos, but he has commitment issues so you guys change them almost every week.

you usually wake up to at least one voice note from him, minimum of five minutes long. you got used to playing them as podcasts as you got ready for work.

honestly he already probably gets his nails done, but will let you do them for him. more so force you, he’s lazy. but if you like to have yours done he would be able to do the prettiest designs for you.

aquarium dates are his favorite, no need to get a guide because rafayel will talk your ear off the moment you’re inside.

boy who cried wolf. fakes being sick for your attention so much so that you don’t even believe him when he actually is. not until thomas tells you that rafa has been whining about missing you in bed.

clearly has abandonment issues and gets upset when you don’t let him know where you are or if you’re okay. he’ll show up at your apartment the few times you pass out from a mission and forget to reply, ready to be mad at you. but the moment he sees your wounds and tired eye bags he loses any ounce of anger he once had.

love language is quality time, doesn’t matter what you’re doing as long as it’s together. he’s the type to tag along when you need to go grocery shopping or pick up something. he just likes to be beside you.

he is a brat, so he’ll laugh as he watches you struggle to carry all the groceries back inside. but it’ll only last a few seconds before he scoops them from you. if you guys go to a carnival together his immediate thought is to win every prize there. it’s only when he’s sucked the poor booths dry is when you have to tug him away.

claw machine dates are weekly and mandatory, but if you think you’re getting a turn think again. he gets too into it and forgets to share. you’ve come to learn you just need to pry him away from it

always follows the sidewalk rule but in return will make a big deal out of you opening doors for him since you’re his bodyguard. he’s the girlfriend in the relationship fr

that’s not the entire time though, when it’s just you two and he’s all worn out from being annoying all day his tone will go softer and his gaze warmer. he loves you he really does he just showcases it weirdly

constantly asking, morelike begging, you to stay the night. even if you have work the next day he says he needs you to fall asleep. it’s happened so many times you eventually brought one of your uniforms over and some clothes so you could spend the night and still go to work. it’s hard not to give in to him.

loves pda. if it was up to him he’d have his hands on you constantly. will get sulky if you don’t hold his hand when you go out.

much like xavier i don’t think he would enjoy working out. but if you need to go to the gym to train he’ll sit on a yoga ball beside your treadmill and talk your ear off. he’ll spot you on the machines but won’t go near anything. he will offer to sit on your back as you do push-ups though. you decline.

nsfw

probably a switch but after seeing his tipsy invitation and ebb and flow scenes he’s giving he prefers to be on the bottom. probably bratty at the beginning but according to the cards he gives in pretty easily, letting mc tie him up and referring to you as master likeeee. i feel like he just wants you to enjoy it more than he wants to enjoy it. gets off at seeing you get off type of deal.

he’s giving pillow princess vibes but if you ask he’ll give you the same treatment but tease you the entire time tbh he’s sooo bratty but i can’t see him being a hard mean dom. like he’ll give into you but make you work for it. edging kink all the way

“hmm, should i stop? i can’t let you finish this quick.”

“wow i didn’t know you were so sensitive here.”

“i haven’t even used my fingers yet and you’re already this wet.”

100% down to try any sex toy can you imagine him buying some sort of tentacle dildo as a joke cus he’s a mermaid but then you end up actually using it on him one night

#rafayel x reader #rafayel x you #rafayel x y/n #rafayel x mc #rafayel x gender neutral reader #rafayel headcanons #love and deepspace rafayel #love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace x you #love and deepspace headcanon #love and deepspace headcanons

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dickgraysonsbitch · 8 months ago

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MOTH TO A FLAME — DICK GRAYSON X JOURNALIST!READER

3.3k words | divider by @cafekitsune | requests open !

summary: your relationship with dick grayson was history two years ago. as of yesterday, you were (not so) happily engaged to another man, and your relationship with him was swoon-worthy, but it seems like it could crumble like a house of cards. so when your perfect ex comes back into your life for help on a case, will you go back to him like a moth to a flame?

you’re just a moth to a flame.

you were engaged. you knew this, this wasn’t new fucking information, and you were supposed to feel elated, on top of the world, like you were on cloud nine or some other shit people in love said—wait, no. you were in love with your fiancé, or at least you tried to be. he was sweet, and he looked good, with his fluffy blonde hair, deep brown eyes, and lean figure. nerd hot. just your type, but why did it seem like as every day went on, you kept trying to convince yourself that this was what you wanted?

you stretched your arms before lugging yourself out of bed, grabbing your phone to check your messages, which you assumed were the reason that your phone was buzzing so much that it was about to fall off your dresser.

PHOTOS NOTIFICATION: november, 2021, AMUSEMENT MILE THEME PARK. do you want to share this memory with DICKIEBIRD 💙?

you pressed your mouth into a line, reminiscing. that was probably the best time you’d ever had in your entire life. you, dick, wally and artemis, eating cotton candy and popcorn at an amusement park.

“one more bite of food and you’re going into carnival crime territory, wally,” you sing, your voice carrying its signature teasing lilt. “then i’m going to win, and you’ll have to pay for everything.”

“just make your stupid boyfriend pay, he’s the billionaire!” wally's disgruntled groan came from a foot behind you, were he was still struggling on his second milkshake. sucker.

dick threw an arm around your shoulder, spreading a hint of warmth over your torso. he was, as you liked to call him, your personal space heater. “hey, it’s the son of a billionaire. and i’d much rather see my super sexy girlfriend beat my best friend’s ass.”

artemis grinned, her phone ready to snap a picture of when wally would undisputedly hurl like a toddler who had eaten too many gerber puffs. “me too, so hurry up, wally.”

the memory of dick throwing up because of the amount of sugar he had consumed in the short span of three hours almost had you laughing out loud, with your fiancé in the bed right next to you. god, you were so pathetic.

“something funny?” his low voice was next to your ear, and you could almost feel his breath on your neck, but for some reason, you wanted to push him away.

your breath hitched, and the guilt crept into your heart again. you were in bed with your fiancé, and you were daydreaming about your ex-boyfriend, who probably forgot your existence. dick was charming, but even you knew that he had a steady stream of people on call to fuck. one of the plus sides to being the hottest person in blüdhaven, you guessed.

“uh, just checking the group chat. girl stuff, matt, you can’t see it.” your mouth twisted into a mischievous smirk, and you quickly stood up and walked towards the shower, rapidly checking the group chat that you opened up your phone for. curse dick grayson and his beautiful blue eyes, which were obviously the only reason you stared that that picture for so long. not the lovesick look he had on his face when looking at you, and definitely not his flirty smile when you made eye contact with him. that would be crazy, right?

maybe you should finally open the group chat.

rue: so how’d your night go?? 😉

annie: i bet she’s so tired that she can’t even walkkk

charlie: ofc she can’t, it’s matt myers!! he’s so fine 😩😩

the conversation then devolved into a discussion of which of matt’s photoshoots was the ‘hottest’, which should’ve made any other, self respecting friend group shy away from the conversation, but never rue, annie and charlie. no, they said that matt was too ‘sexy’ to be quiet about, and it was like they were waiting for you to mess up just to take your place. the sad part was that you wouldn’t mind letting them.

you had met matt, ironically, at a wayne gala that you were covering post breakup with dick, which was the only way that you measured time nowadays. he was hot enough to be… a rebound, and you were okay with that, until he started hounding you for a date. one date, two dates, and suddenly, a year and a half later, you were engaged. the next step, obviously (in matt's words), was the whole white picket fence, 2.5 kids, and living the rest of your days in your dream house. if it was so obvious, why did it make your stomach curdle like you had a flu? why did the idea of kids with matt, being bonded to him for life, make you want to toss your stupid ring at his face, pack your bags, and run? did he even know why your favorite color was dark blue? did matt myers know that the reason that the sapphire stone on your ring was because of dick grayson?

you glanced at your fiancé before looking at your phone and sighing. “matt, i'm going out for some fresh air.” your heart panged. maybe you should give matt some slack, because after all, he picked up the pieces of you after dick so abruptly left. maybe he was better than what you gave him credit for. maybe the two of you would work long term, and you could go the white picket fence with him. it couldn’t hurt. “wanna come with?”

“nah. get me some seaweed chips though, from erewhon. we ran out.” matt shot you a badly timed wink, which made you grimace, and in that moment, you realized a very disturbing fact. nobody could make your blood pump like dick grayson, and no matter who you were with, there would only be one man on your mind.

sighing, you quickly changed into a ratty hoodie and leggings, making sure you weren’t in some sort of nightmare dream that you weren’t able to get out of. because that was your dream, right? being engaged to an incredibly attractive, talented and kind person, and spending the rest of your life with him? you gave yourself a short pep talk in the mirror—“you are hot! everyone wants you! you are engaged!”—before slipping on your shoes and calculating the distance to blüdhaven’s nearest erewhon, which was an easy twenty minute walk away. maybe you could thank matt for the exercise that he was always hounding you to do.

step. step. step. your walk turned into the same banal rotation of the past year and a half of your life, always the same thing over and over, and the thought of what your life might have been like if you had just stayed clung in your mind like cobwebs. unwanted, unnecessary, but it made your heart ache just a little bit to get rid of them.

erewhon came faster than you expected it to, and you stepped inside, the chilly air hitting your face like a wall of ice, and you grabbed a basket, picking up those chips matt loved. he was safe. safe and comfortable, but why did safe and comfortable suddenly feel like boring and predictable?

you caught a glimpse of yourself in the reflective glass of the door, yearning to see the bright eyed, excitable girl that existed only a few years ago, but all you saw was… you. drained, unhappy, a permanent frown on your face. you attempted a smile, pulling your mouth from both sides, but the result was only a mix of a grimace and a clown’s toothy grin. you couldn’t smile right either.

your phone pinged, and a blue heart showed up on your screen. you hadn’t texted him in two years, but the icon still made your heart flutter with anticipation, before your squashed it like a bug under a boot.

DICKIEBIRD 💙: hey smartie pants! i need to talk to u about something important. let’s meet at 0900 at lux?

you bit your lip. the pros of this: you could finally get closure. dick grayson was hard to get ahold of, but maybe this was your chance to ask him—why did the two of you not work? was it you? was it him? or was it his true first love, nightwing?

you: hey. does 0930 work? i’m out running errands right now.

a beat.

DICKIEBIRD 💙: yeah! miss u lots, btw. see you then!

two hours later, after you had dropped off matt’s life-sustaining seaweed chips for a disgruntled “thanks, babe” in return, you walked into lux, your favorite sweater and skirt combo clinging onto you like a second skin. you’d worn a different, light blue dress on instinct, but you quickly realized that the dress you had picked out was dick’s favorite, so it immediately out of the question. shame, it was a damn hot dress.

“hey!” you heard a cheery voice from behind you. he said your name like it came off easy, like you hadn’t been each other’s confidants once upon a time. he said your name the way you wished that you could say his, with no meaning attached behind it. “it’s been so long, and you look great!” his eyes flicked to the stone on your left hand ring finger, and you could swear that his face fell the smallest amount, but if he felt anything, he didn’t tell you.

you didn’t have the same self control that he did. his name fluttered off of your tongue like a prayer, like he was a god and your only chance at salvation. “dick… um… hi. yeah, you look great too, but i guess enough people tell you that on a daily basis.”

“well, i hope you’re getting complemented just as much. what, your fiancé not doing it for you anymore, or is that just a pretty rock?” he grinned, his dimples highlighted by the dim light in the club. you suddenly kicked yourself for even showing up. how could he read you like a book by only looking at you for a minute or two, max?

your eyes widened, heart beating out of your chest. “uh, i mean… i’m engaged. matt. that’s his name. matt myers.”

as if reading your mind, dick’s smile fell, and he placed a comforting hand on your forearm. “hey, i didn’t mean anything by the pretty rock comment, okay? don’t stress, i’m not here to seduce you.” oh, dick. what you’d give for him to say the opposite. “i’m actually here about a case. not bruce related, by the way. my usual case partner on this one is having a little trouble, so i thought…” he shrugged, because telling you that you were a backup didn’t break his heart, not like being on the receiving end broke yours. it wasn’t a shatter, just a tiny crack to the ones that he’d been adding all this time.

“yeah, i can help you out. what’s up?” you tried to seem nonchalant, but maybe the pain seeped through your voice. you wouldn’t count it against your terrible emotional regulation skills, but a small part of you was itching to help—to get back into the routine that truly sparked fire in you, instead of the rabbit food conversations that had matt jumping around like it was Christmas.

dick pulled out a variety of manila folders, labeled with a variety of female names on them, and a type of flower. he pinched three different photos of the victims, you were assuming, who were mauled and then arranged into neat shapes, with their hands crossed over their chest like mummies, and a clean, crisp white flower placed on top of them. the flowers were all different species’, you noted, with some including a white rose, a white poppy, and a white petunia.

“what do you have so far?” your voice came off far too eager, far too fast and far too interested. no, this was a favor he was coming to you for, so why did it feel like you were a caged bird that could finally sing, stretch it’s wings and soar into the sky without inhibitions? dick pressed his lips together, running a hand though his tousled, raven hair. god, what you’d give to have the chance to do that one more time. maybe dick was right when he broke up with you, because if you couldn’t even control yourself when you had a fiancé, how did he know that you could handle being with him?

he hesitated—it was evident in the way that he froze before trying to say something again. perhaps he was also thinking about the other times that you helped him with his cases, spending late nights poring over pictures and elaborate pictures, only to end up watching the real housewives of beverly hills instead. or maybe he was rethinking, questioning, even, why he had even involved you in the first place. you wouldn’t hold it against him; you’d always been too interested for your own good.

“close to nothing. no prints, no dna, just these flowers, whatever they mean. i wanted to know if you could reach out to shy of your sources—see if they know anything. they’ve been helpful before.” his voice sounded tired, not the usual, cheery voice he pasted onto himself. it made you feel a bit better, if you could call it that, that he didn’t feel the need to pretend to be the golden wayne child in front of you. or maybe you were delusional in your belief that he’d even let his facade drop.

you bit your lip, and twisted the dark blue engagement ring on your finger absentmindedly. “is this a nightwing problem, or an officer grayson problem? because that makes a difference in which sources i use.”

dick grinned, and you were mostly sure that it was genuine, with a flash of teeth distracting you from the issue at hand (which was more like the issue on your left hand ring finger) but dick had always had that effect on you. “thinking about breaking the law, future mrs gr—future pulitzer prize winner? to answer your question, if you think about it,” he started, “it’s a both problem.” his face fell, and the wide smile that was there moments ago disappeared so fast that you almost thought that you imagined it. “they’ve started personally targeting people in my family. cass and damian both noticed a tail when they were walking out in the city, and i would be worried if they weren’t, you know, the deadliest people in gotham, but if anything happened to them, i don’t know if i'd be able to forgive myself. or worse, alfred…”

the look on his face is anguished, as if he’s imagining a lifetime of pain being inflicted on his family, and you know that he’s rather take it himself than let anything happen to them. “dick, don’t worry, okay? alfred is probably more dangerous than anyone in your family combined, and i say that after i've met cass and steph. nothing’s going to happen to them. we’re going to find this psycho, then we’re going to get justice for the victims and their families.” you reach out to touch his arm, but the moment your skin makes contact with his, you pull back like his forearm was on fire.

nodding, he looks back up at you, his eyes filled with an admiration you haven’t seen in quite a while. “yeah, i’m overreacting, right? and it’s not like they won’t be able to defend themselves. cass could probably kick my ass on one of her bad days.” he shudders. “she’s awesome and all, but scary as hell.”

you laugh, finally at ease, not on edge about what you’re saying or about to do. “yeah, well, clearly you’ve never seen her in the same room as a full english breakfast. i remember this one time that she came over to our apartment after patrol, and this was at three o’clock in the morning, okay? she walks in, starts getting the eggs out of our fridge…” your eyes catch a glimpse at dick’s face. he’s smiling, his face satiated and truly… happy. how long has it been since you looked like that? the earlier morning comes into your mind, and you stammer, recollecting how you looked in the glass of the fridge at the store. like a broken woman rather than the girl that you used to be.

now it’s dick’s turn to take your hand into his, and rub it gently, the way that he always used to do when you were nervous before taking one of your tests in university, or when you utterly messed up cooking dinner. it meant that he was here for you, that he would be there no matter what, but a small part of your brain wanted to question him nonetheless; if he had left you before, he would leave you again. that was the rule, the past precedent that he had kept for himself, and if he had wanted to stay, he would’ve.

his thumb brushes over your engagement ring, the one that you and forgotten even existed and now felt heavier on your finger than a ton of bricks, the one that your fiancé had given to you as a token of trust. you couldn’t break the one promise you had left, but clearly, dick must have been thinking the same thing. he pulled his hand away the moment he touched the ring, and looked at you with a guilty expression. “so… how long have you guys been…”

“last night.” you said, not an ounce of warmth in your voice. there never was, when it came to matt. it was more like a dry tone of obligation than anything else.

dick’s eyes widened, shame seeping into his expression. “i'm so sorry, sw—i mean, you shouldn’t be here on your engagement day. we can talk some other time, or i can send you—”

“if i didn’t want to be here, dick, i wouldn’t be.”

“good to know.” he smiled, before turning his attention back to the folder in his hands. “hey, i have to go. we’ll keep in touch, alright?” he stands up, about to lean in for a hug, but you stick your arm out, ready to shake his hand. cold and impersonal, but it wasn’t like you were doing a good job of that in the first place.

the two of you settle for a half hug-half handshake combination, somehow making the situation more awkward than it already was. he send you a crooked grin, and it cements itself in your brain, another blip of dick grayson in your grey life. maybe… maybe this isn’t a bad idea after all, and maybe you could rein in your emotions just to see a little more of him, his dark blue eyes haunting your dreams like an apparition. you could sacrifice that and so much more just to have his eyes in your life.

“see you later, right?” you smiled, the muscles in your face contracting in that direction for the first time in a few weeks, perhaps. oh, the things that he did to your poor heart. he waved, mouthing a quick bye to you before picking up a call on his phone, and you could hear a stern ‘jason’ before he vanished, out of earshot, out of sight, but not out of your mind.

you started on your path back home, deciding against taking a taxi when the fares would be the highest. maybe it was just an eerie coincidence on your part, but you swore that there was something behind you, a pair of eyes tracking your every move. you would have cast it aside as paranoia, but it was sending a creeping shiver up your spine, terrifying you to your very bones. perhaps that is what happens when one works on a murder case.

you brushed it off, but the feeling of eyes on your back did not dissipate.

ooh spooky right? does anyone fancy a part two for this one or nah?

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littlelamy · 2 months ago

Note

Could you do Reader meeting Drew at carnival or something? Reader is there with her two friends and Drew is there with his, Odessa and co. Both groups are in odd numbers, meaning someone always has to sit with a stranger during a carousel ride. This time it is Reader’s turn to sit with a stranger while her friends sit togehter. Same for Drew. Reader and Drew get put together in a ride. Some awkward tension, attraction and cuteness. As soon as they get off the ride tho, Odessa runs up to Drew hugging him, so Reader gets the impression that he is taken and is like ‘’Oh…guess I won’t ask for his number…..:/ ‘’ and walks off. But then at some point Drew sees her again at the carnival and well…….

hope you like it !!⭐️ the air was thick with the smell of popcorn and cotton candy, the sounds of laughter and screams from carnival rides filling the night. you, along with your two friends, were making your way through the throngs of people, the vibrant lights casting a kaleidoscope of colors around you. your friend jenna was already eyeing the ferris wheel, while casey was determined to find the most ridiculous hat she could wear for a photo op.

“can we please go on something that won’t make me want to hurl?” you joked, clutching your stomach as you passed a spinny ride that looked like it could launch someone into orbit.

“oh, come on! where’s your sense of adventure?” jenna teased, giving you a playful shove. “we’re here to have fun!”

just then, you caught sight of a group across the way: a guy with tousled hair, a cheeky grin plastered on his face, surrounded by a couple of friends, one of whom was waving her arms like a lunatic. you couldn’t help but smirk; they looked like a band of misfits, and the guy—drew, you overheard someone call him—had an easy charm that was hard to ignore.

as you wandered toward the carousel, the sound of cheerful music inviting you closer, drew’s laugh carried over to you, loud and unapologetic. he had that kind of laugh that made you want to roll your eyes, but you also found yourself grinning. the carousel was in a weird configuration: you and your friends were odd-numbered, meaning one of you would have to sit with a stranger. guess who that unlucky bastard was? you.

“looks like it’s you, champ,” casey said, nudging you forward as jenna giggled. “have fun with your mystery date!”

you shot her a mock glare before stepping up to the ride. meanwhile, drew was being pushed by his friends toward the same ride, and you both ended up on the same horse—his a little to the left of yours. great.

as the carousel began to spin, you shot drew a sideways glance. he looked at you, and for a moment, everything blurred into the background. “so, this is fun,” you said, trying to fill the awkward silence. “i’m thrilled to be your carousel buddy.”

“thrilled? oh, it must be my lucky day,” he replied, his smirk making your heart flutter. “what’s your name? or should I just call you my new favorite stranger?”

“y/n. and you’re drew, right?”

“guilty as charged. so, what brings you here? other than the joy of being awkwardly paired with a stranger on a spinning ride?”

you laughed, the sound a bit louder than you intended. “just here for the chaos, i guess. you know, cotton candy, overpriced games, and the constant threat of nausea.”

“ah, a connoisseur of fine carnivals! i like that,” he grinned, leaning closer. “i, too, have a refined taste in fine cotton candy and the thrill of potential vomiting on a carousel. it’s a true art form, really.”

you shook your head, laughing. “you’re ridiculous. but in the best way.”

the ride continued, the two of you exchanging jokes, the initial awkwardness fading into something more comfortable. you caught yourself sneaking glances at him, taking in the way his lips curled into a smirk and how animated his expressions were. he was cute—like, really cute.

but as the ride slowed to a stop, reality came crashing back. you were both about to disembark when suddenly, a blur of energy rushed up to drew. “drew!” she squealed, throwing her arms around him. it was odessa, the friend from earlier, and the two of them looked way too cozy. your heart sank as you realized that maybe drew wasn’t available after all.

“oh… guess i won’t be asking for his number,” you muttered under your breath, forcing a smile as you stepped away. you could feel the bubble of attraction deflate like a popped balloon. you waved goodbye to your friends and started to walk away, trying to ignore the sting of disappointment.

time passed, and the carnival lights danced around you, but your mind kept drifting back to the moment with drew. you were beginning to think you’d never see him again when, out of nowhere, he came sprinting back into view. his friends were trailing behind him, and he was looking for something—or someone.

“hey!” he called, spotting you. you turned, a little surprised he even remembered your name. “you didn’t get my number!”

“yeah, well, you were kind of busy being hugged by odessa,” you replied, crossing your arms defensively.

“trust me, it’s not what it looks like. we're just friends,” he said, rolling his eyes. "want to grab some cotton candy together? i promise to share, but only if you’re willing to do it like true adults—by faceplanting into it.”

your heart did a little flip at his invitation. “okay, but only if you promise to eat it straight off the stick like civilized humans.”

drew laughed, his eyes lighting up. “deal! and who knows, maybe we can find a ride that doesn’t require sitting next to strangers. unless you’re into that. i’m not here to judge. my friends and i have a running bet on who can make the most ridiculous small talk on rides, and i could use some competition.”

he led you through the carnival, weaving between the crowds, his hand brushing against yours like he was testing the waters. your heart raced as you made your way toward the ferris wheel, its lights twinkling like a galaxy above you. “this is the best ride for some real fun,” he said, leaning closer as you waited in line. “you get a killer view of the carnival and the chance to make out in the moonlight if you play your cards right.”

“oh, really?” you shot back, trying to sound nonchalant, though your cheeks felt hot. “is that a guarantee?”

“i’m just saying,” he said, a wicked grin spreading across his face, “i can be pretty persuasive. or maybe it’s just the cotton candy talking.”

as you climbed into the gondola and it began to rise, the world below you shrank, the lights of the carnival twinkling like stars. you could feel the excitement building, your heart racing not just from the height but from being so close to him. drew leaned closer, his breath warm against your ear. “you know, this would be the perfect time to kiss someone,” he murmured, mischief dancing in his eyes.

“oh, is that right?” you replied, challenging him with a smirk.

“absolutely. i mean, who wouldn’t want to steal a kiss while overlooking a carnival filled with chaos?” he asked, leaning even closer until your lips were mere inches apart.

in that moment, everything else faded away. the noise of the carnival, the lights, the world—it was just you and drew, suspended in that gondola. you could feel the heat radiating between you as you closed the gap, your lips meeting his in a soft, tentative kiss that quickly turned hungry. he tasted like cotton candy and adventure, and you lost yourself in the moment, the kiss deepening as you melted against him.

when you finally pulled away, both of you breathless, he grinned like he’d just won the jackpot. “so, how was that for some carnival fun?” he teased, clearly pleased with himself.

“definitely more exciting than a roller coaster,” you admitted, your heart still racing.

“well, the night is still young,” he said, his grin widening. “let’s see what other trouble we can get into.”

as the ferris wheel creaked to a stop, you couldn’t help but feel that this was just the beginning of a wild night filled with laughter, chaos, and maybe a few more kisses.

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @kissrotten @rafecameroninterlude @sstargirln

#drew #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey x you

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cinewhore · 6 months ago

Text

Back in the Saddle

Pairing: Boone x fem!reader

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: angst, little fluff, tornadoes! more like one tornado but you get the picture. mentions of pregnancy - nothing described in detail.

A/N: you already know what it is. this is more angsty than what I planned but I enjoy it. I hope you do too. absolutely no beta. An alternate ending may be posted soon. Credits to the gif artist.

The screams of amused thrill seekers followed by the sweet smell of candy apples brought more warmth to your heart than you’d imagine.

A carnival camped out in the parking lot of your old community college felt typical of the town you left, resurfacing memories you swore you’d never revisit. You planned to stay in for the night, maybe catch a flick or catch up on some emails you’ve been avoiding but your little one insisted on coming after passing by one night on the way home.

“Mama, can we go to the party? Gigi says I’ve been good.” she mentioned earlier that evening. It was true, you had been taking her to your mothers while you acclimated to your new job. At first you were worried, nervous that she would throw tantrums and beg to stay with you because you were all that she had known up until this point. You packed your bags weeks into the pregnancy and handled going into labor all by yourself. It wasn’t ideal and looking back, a pretty big mistake but your mother always greeted you with grace and patience, even if you didn’t extend it to yourself.

Bailey took to her like moths to a light. They were inseparable and whenever Bailey left your mothers house, she’d always ask when she was going back.

“Well, if Gigi said you were good then we can go. Maybe we can split some pizza and ice cream?”

You’d never seen Bailey run faster to put her shoes on.

The two of you cheered during the pig race, got dizzy while riding the spinning teacups and loaded up the photo app on your phone with pictures of her riding her first roller coaster. It was rewarding to watch her navigate this space, eyes aglow. You were working yourself down to the bone as the new executive assistant to a local lawyer but if it meant that Bailey could enjoy her childhood more than you ever did, that was a sacrifice you’d make.

After a few hours of enjoying the rides, you decided it was time for dinner. You order two cheese slices and head to a quiet picnic table near the edge of the dining area.

With the slice mere centimeters from your mouth, Bailey taps you. “You’re supposed to say grace first.”

You sigh, setting the food down and crossing your hands together. Bailey watches you carefully, mimicking your actions.

“Go on, then. Say grace.”

Bailey squeezes her tiny eyes shut. “Dear Jesus, thank you for pizza. And Gigi. And momma. And piggies. Amen.”

“Amen.”

You show her how to fold the slice in half, making it easier for her to chew. You did your best to keep her clean, she insisted on wearing her new shirt tonight but children will be children. A big splat of pizza sauce lands on her shirt before dribbling down onto her jeans.

You groan and dab your finger along the excess red liquid, licking it before it has time to set it. “Bailey! Look at that, now I’m gonna have to do laundry tonight.”

“Sorry, mama!” The toddler attempts to help you but makes things worse.

You grab at her hands to stop her. “Just-can you be a big girl and grab some napkins for me?”

“From where?”

You gaze around before your eyes land on a condiments table, a full container of napkins resting beside the ketchup.

“Right there. Go on, I’m watching you from here.”

Bailey nods and takes off, going as fast as her little legs can carry her. Halfway to the table, she bowls straight into a group of people, colliding into a leg, landing flat on her tush.

“Woah! You alright there little speed racer?” the victim asks her and you freeze.

You knew this was always a possibility. Hell, the town wasn’t that big. You knew that at any given moment, you’d stop running from your past and run right into it instead. You just wish it wasn’t tonight.

Bailey is more stunned than hurt and she doesn’t give the man a chance to help her before she’s barreling back to you.

You stand and console her, hoping that if you don’t make eye contact with him that he’d disappear.

Unfortunately, Boone wasn’t the kind of guy you’d ignore.

He calls out your name in disbelief and you exhale softly, slowly lifting your head. There he was, in all of his tanned glory. Boone certainly had grown, muscles well defined and mustache thick. His hair was longer, tucked under a signature trucker hat. Crooked smile as bright as ever.

“Holy shit.”

“Hi, Boone.”

You break eye contact to see that he was with his crew, the infamous tornado wranglers. They all stare between the two of you, the unspoken history of your relationship hanging in the air above them. The silence was fucking comical.

Lily clears her throat. “Uh, guys, we should, um get in line for the funnel cakes. Before, ya know, it gets long.”

She not so subtly pushes Boone towards you, herding everyone else off into the opposite direction.

“This is the last place I’d expect to run into you.” Boone comments, attempting to lean on the picnic table across from yours but he miscalculates his reach and nearly stumbles into you.

“Oh!” you exclaim, helping him steady his footing. “Still clumsy.”

“You know I always fell for you.” He chuckles nervously. Bailey tugs on your jeans and you rub your hand across her head in a soothing manner. She stares curiously at Boone, who squats to meet her eye line.

“And what’s your name, pretty little lady?”

You look down at her as well, nudging her gently to let her know it was ok.

“My name is Bailey.”

Boone raises his eyebrows enthusiastically. “Well, I’ll be! That’s my favorite name. Did you know that? Are you a secret mind reader?”

Bailey giggles, gaining more confidence as she steps from behind your leg and closer to Boone. “No, mister smarty pants! You’re silly.”

Boone keeps the amused look on his face, searching yours for clarification.

“Ah, mister smarty pants is a puppet in this show she likes to watch. Everyone besides my mother and I are referred to as such. His pants wear glasses. It’s weird.” you explain.

“Well, how ‘bout this?” Boone rummages around his many cargo pants compartments before pulling out a pair of sunglasses. He places them above his knee, balancing it with precision.

“It’s me, Mister Smarty Pants!”

You shake your head, pointing upwards with your finger. “Higher octave.”

Boone tries out a number of voices, not giving up until Bailey laughs. You smile tenderly at the interaction. He gestures to your table and you all sit back down, Bailey going to town on her food. You had given up on trying to keep her neat, you would be staying up late regardless. May as well get laundry out of the way.

Getting Bailey settled means your attention was shifted and this allowed Boone to fully take you in. It had been about three years since he last saw you in person, the burner instagram account he used to keep with you digitally proving futile, as you weren’t the social media type. Your face took more shape, body fuller. Your accent was masked, bits and pieces of it slipping out when you pronounced certain words. You wore an effective mask, a sure symptom of your failed relationship and attempt to acclimate to the city life.

You look up to catch him staring. He blushes and bites his lip, toying with his hat. You prop your hand under your chin, tilting your head sideways.

“What has Boone been up to all these years? Still risking your life for random people on the internet?”

“You can say that. These folks aren’t random though, they are devoted fans of our crew! We’ve reached our million subscriber milestone. Look,” Boone pulls up his youtube channel and holds the phone up to your face. “Tornado Wranglers going global, baby!”

“Wow, that’s amazing. I remember when you first started that. I’m happy you stuck with it.”

Boone nods, reading in-between the lines. The youtube channel hadn’t been the deciding factor in you ending your relationship with Boone but it definitely was a cause. You thought it reckless, constantly begging him to consider getting a “real” job. It didn’t help that when he told you that he was going to work with Tyler full time, it was the same day you found out you were pregnant with Bailey.

You see him in her all the time, it was sickening. Their off putting humor, lopsided smiles and unrelenting curiosity was enough to drive you up the wall. Bailey would ask from time to time about her “papa” and you’d always switch the conversation, redirecting her attention to something else. It had gotten to the point where she just ultimately just stopped asking.

You’d always imagine having a family with Boone. Call it a teenage fantasy but it always felt like an endgame with you two. You met during your first year of college, both stuck as chemistry lab partners. Boone was the class clown, although it wasn’t like he was actively trying to be. He was off kilter and you liked that about him, it was a stark difference from everyone else you grew up with. It also didn’t help that he was the smartest one in the class.

He became your tutor, then your friend and finally, your boyfriend.

Boone studies Bailey as she eats. “How, uh, old is she?”

You sigh deeply. “I think you can guess, Boone.”

He nods gently. “You been in town long?

“Uh, about six months. It got a bit harder juggling her on my own. My mom’s been helping out. I started a new job at a law firm, so I’m there for most of the day.”

“That explains your clothes then.”

You glance down at your corporate attire, pulling your blazer across your slightly exposed cleavage. “Had to grow up someday, ya know?”

“You think I haven’t?” Boone asks, a hint of frustration in his tone. He rarely got upset and watching him wrestle with his emotions now was a bit unsettling.

“Listen, I wasn’t expecting to have this conversation today, so forgive me if I don’t use the right words.”

Boone hums, jaw ticking. “It’s just that, you know, I’ve been here. If you needed help or whatever, I could’ve done that. Especially seeing that she’s my ch-”

You hurry to cover Bailey’s ears. “Can you not! Jesus, Boone! It’s just like you, never knowing when to quit.” Bailey watches keenly as the two of you bicker, voices muffled and mixed in with the ambiance of the carnival.

“Just like you never know when to stop running.”

It shouldn’t hurt as much as it does but Boone’s words seep into an open wound and cuts deep. You bite your lip to stop them from quivering and Boone’s facial expression gives way, aware that he crossed a line.

“I’m sorry-”

“It’s fine. It’s true, anyhow.”

It was hereditary. Your grandmother left her children when things got too hard. Your mother gave you up for a period of time, passing you around from relative to relative while she got her shit together. Then there was you, getting knocked up unexpectedly and running off from the only man who truly loved you. After eighteen hours of agonizing labor, when the nurses plopped a pale and howling newborn on your chest, something clicked. You decided that for now, you were done running. You would be the mother to Bailey that your mother wasn’t for you and that your grandmother wasn’t to her children.

Telling Boone was a part of your plan, it really was but between work and raising Bailey, there wasn’t much time left to ruminate on how to notify him that he was a father after all these years. Not after the way it ended.

You were waitressing at a diner near campus during that time. You were trying to keep up with school but it proved more difficult than you could imagine. You and Boone moved hastily into a studio apartment, despite your mother’s warnings. The two of you were in love. What’s true love compared to anything else? Boone dropped out after freshman year, promising that his work with Tyler would catapult you two into a better situation. Just give me some time, he’d say. You did. You met Boone when you were 19. At that point, you’d turn 22, become a dropout and nothing had changed.

The straw that broke the camel's back was coming home after a long shift at the diner to find an eviction notice on your door. It had been Boone’s responsibility to give the rent check to your landlord so you were very shocked to find out that Boone hadn’t delivered the last two.

When you confronted him about where the money had gone, fearful that he began using drugs or developed a gambling addiction, he reluctantly told you that he was developing a tornado tracking device and that the money was needed for a prototype. You ran to the kitchen sink to vomit, told him that you’d save the conversation for later and went to bed.

You and your belongings were gone when he woke up the next morning.

Bailey claps her hands together, signaling that she was done with food. She points at the paper plate. “Trash?”

“Yes, baby, trash. You can put it in there by yourself, mommy can see you from here.”

Scrunching her eyebrows in deep concentration, Bailey wanders back over near the condiments table, making sure not to run this time.

“She’s pretty smart for a tiny person.” Boone notes.

“She is! My mom has been good with her. I think she benefits from spending time with her more than I do. It’s like she gets a second chance at raising a kid.”

Boone gazes at you, brown eyes pooled over with acute affection. “I’d like to maybe get a second chance at being there for you. The both of you. If you’ll have me, of course.”

Remember, you’re done running.

You smirk and attempt to smother down the heat rising to your cheeks. Boone mirrors your expression before it completely drops.

You frown, nervous that you said or did the wrong thing. “Boone?”

He stands to his feet abruptly, eyes darting across the dark skyline behind you. The air becomes still, the miniscule hairs rising along your arms and neck. A sensation you were all too familiar with.

You stand next to Boone on shaky legs, blinking your eyes rapidly to try and force them to adjust to the night sky, to see what he sees.

Thunder rumbles in the distance, lighting illuminating the terrifying reality you were about to come face to face with.

A twister.

“Boone! We gotta move! NOW!” Tyler’s voice roars out from behind you. The crowds surrounding you all begin to panic and scatter, the warning siren screeching violently.

You instinctively reach out to grab for Bailey but realize she isn’t there.

You spin in a circle, heartbeat rising erratically. Within a blink of an eye, your baby was gone. You could hear Boone repeating your name frantically, tugging on your arm, begging you to move but you couldn’t. You weren’t leaving without Bailey.

“She’s gone.” you whimper, hands flying over your mouth. “I lost her, Boone!”

He turns to look at his crew. “Go! I’ll catch up.”

“You fucking better!” Lily screams.

Boone turns to you, grasping your face with his hands. “Darlin’, we’re gonna find her, ok? We just can’t stand here cause if we do, we’re gonna die.”

You choke out a cry.

“Ok, ok! Die may not be the best word to use but it will not be good!”

He grabs you and the two of you run deeper into the carnival, calling out for Bailey. It felt useless, given the sheer amount of screams and bodies that were furiously scattering all around you. The wind picks up and scatters debris every which way, game stalls and food stands being ripped from the ground.

“Watch out!” you shout, shifting Boone out of the way of a falling dunk tank. The water rushes towards you, sweeping away a few who were not fast enough to dodge it.

“There!” he points and you follow the direction of his finger. Across the way is Bailey, standing by a water fountain, crying.

You both push your way through the frenzy, dropping at your knees to assess your daughter. Outside of sporting a few cuts and bruises, she was fine.

“Come on baby girl, we go to go!”

Bailey shakes her head furiously, planting her feet firmly in the ground. “I’m scared!”

You try to lift her into your arms but it’s no use, she won’t move. Boone tickles at her stomach to get her attention.

“You ever heard of a spider monkey before?” He asks.

Bailey shakes her head.

“So, they’re these freaky little monkeys, you know, with long legs and tails. They run around on each other like backpacks. You think you can climb on my back and pretend to be a spider monkey?”

Boone makes a few monkey noises, scratching underneath his chin. This elicits a small grin from Bailey and she gives in. Once secured to Boone, the three of you take off in the direction of the community college building, where people are taking shelter.

The tornado is unrelenting as it closes in on the parking lot, cutting power lines and sucking up everything in its path. The forceful winds tug at the sloppily put together mini ferris wheel right in front of you, the metal groaning in weak protest before it topples over, crushing a family underneath it. It blocks your clear exit to the building.

“We’re not gonna make it in time.” Boone announces.

“What are we gonna do?”

Boone scans the area with precise expertise, like a dog on the scent. It doesn’t take long before he’s taking your hand and leading you to a grassy area.

“There!” He points to an adjacent neighborhood, noticing a ditch in front of a small house. It wasn’t the best idea but given the situation, it was the only choice you had.

You dodge a few abandoned cars, trying to be mindful of your steps. Boone is gentle as he removes Bailey from her position and hands her over to you, instructing you to get in the ditch first.

“Bailey, I need you to hold on to me and keep your eyes closed, understand?”

You feel her nod against your chest. Boone hops in after you, shielding your body with his. The tornado whistles as it finally reaches you, the sound causing you to grind your teeth and squeeze your eyes shut. You don’t dare move until Boone releases his hold on you.

The place was wrecked to hell. Overturned cars, ripped carnival games, fallen trees. Years worth of reconstruction that only took seconds to destroy. It was a reason why you wanted to leave, why you wanted to raise Bailey elsewhere. You didn’t want to have to constantly expose her to such harsh weather but let’s face it, you’re a southern girl at heart. If it wasn’t a tornado, it would be a hurricane, flood or worse.

The best you could do is prepare her for this life and there was no one else better to help than Boone.

TWO YEARS LATER.

“You sure about this?” your mother asks you for the millionth time.

“Nope,” you sigh. “But it’s his day, he’s a professional and I trust him.”

Your mother scoffs, patting you on the back. “Lying to yourself. Like a good mother should. Bailey! Hurry up, your father is going to be here any minute.”

Bailey comes rushing down the stairs, dressed in a similar fashion to Boone. You give her a once over, smoothing down her wild hair. “Are you excited?”

“Mhm!” Bailey hums, bouncing up and down on her feet. “I’m gonna be a storm chaser!”

“Oh, brother.” you mumble, voice drowned out by the thumping bass of country music, a signifier that Boone had arrived.

You open up the door to reveal Tyler’s truck, Boone hopping out the passenger side before the vehicle could even be put in park.

“Monkey!” Boone yells, Bailey darting out from behind you and out the door, straight into her fathers arms. He wrestles her around, mindful not to overdo it while you are watching.

The horn sounds off and Tyler pops his head out from the driver seat as he waves to you, Lily and Dexter’s coming out from the back. You cringe at the ear splitting noise and wave back, knowing you were definitely going to get shit from the neighbors.

Boone walks up to you and presses a small kiss on your cheek. “Hey hot mama. I promise to have her back before dinner.”

You stare at him sternly, lips pressed into a thing line. “And?”

Boone groans playfully. “I promise not to let her ride shotgun, use Lily’s drone, have her within 1,000 feet of a tornado, alcohol or Tyler’s groupies.”

“Very good, thank you.” You pinch Bailey’s cheeks, smiling at her fondly. “Behave, the both of you.

“Yes ma’am.” they answer in unison.

You lean against the railings of your porch, watching as Boone helps Bailey into the backseat. Your arrangement wasn’t perfect but for now, it worked. You were still trying to figure out how to best repair your relationship and you felt it necessary to take things slow, get to know one another again as you eased back into things. Romantic feelings lingered but you wanted to make sure that you put Bailey first. She’d be the most hurt out of everyone if this didn’t go well.

Boone had adjusted quite nicely to being a father in his own way, full of quirks and surprises as always. It was nice having him around again after not seeing him for so long and you would do everything in your power to make things work.

“Hey!” you call out to Boone as he climbs back into the passenger seat.

Boone stops midway. “Yeah?”

“...I love you.”

Boone’s smile nearly splits his face in half. Tyler pretends to gag. He revs the engine and pulls out of the yard delicately, cranking up the speed down the residential street like a bat out of hell once out of your line of view.

You weren’t sure how you felt about being back in the saddle with Boone but you knew you had more confidence this go round.

Besides, it wasn’t like it was your first rodeo.

#Boone x fem reader #Boone x reader #Boone twisters

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paintingwhiteceilings · 11 months ago

Text

❃S/O being drunk/tipsy around Seventeen❃

A/N: So I may have gotten massively drunk last weekend as the region I live in celebrates a specific type of carnival that goes on for five days straight. I might have, maybe, drank a little bit too much during the music festival day and as I was drunkenly stumbling around, I wondered what it would be like to get drunk around svt.

Also, am I the only one who has a K-pop idols I want to get drunk with bias line? Currently, my list consists of Lee Know, Xiumin, Jin and San (to name a few). Just wondering whether that is a normal thing to have or whether I should be concerned about my sanity.

Scoups/Seungcheol

❀ Chances are that if you are drunk around him, so is he. Coups loves a good party on the occasion and isn't a stranger to clubbing. However, where he can hold his liquor and knows his limits, you may have forgotten about yours. Part of him adores your clinginess and finds you adorable; thus, he lets you be your embarrassingly drunk self, laughing at your shameless and less-than-stellar dance moves. As long as you are in the safe, not-too-drunk zone, he will let you have fun and try to match your drinking pace.

❀ However, the moment he notices that you are crossing the line into way too drunk territory, the responsible part of him will kick in, and he will chase you around with water. He will get very serious, going all alpha leader on you and doing whatever it takes for you to take a sip of water.

❀ No amount of cuteness or begging will convince him to stop his getting you sober plight; you can flirt all you want with him, but once he is concerned for your well-being, it is difficult to persuade him to let you keep on drinking. He is definitely not above cutting the night short either, taking you home instead. If you do as much as refuse, he will throw you over his shoulder and walk out like you weigh nothing.

Jeonghan

❀ To the poor soul who decided to get drunk around this man, I hope that he will never feel the urge to show those embarrassing videos that he took of you to those around you. Although he will, of course, keep his eye on you to prevent you from getting progressively drunker, he is enjoying you being drunk way too much. He will have his camera out the entire time and instigate you to do something embarrassing that sober-you would very much regret.

❀ He has an entire folder dedicated to your drunken mishaps, whether it is a five-minute video of you slurring your words as you argue why cows are grossly underappreciated when it comes to favourite animals or you crying as you hug a tree, sobbing that they do not receive enough love. Jeonghan cherishes every single photo and video he took of you being drunk, frequently rewatching them to cheer himself up.

❀ Honestly, it never fails to make you regret drinking around this man because he has no problem using it as blackmail against you. Whenever you try to argue with him during game nights, he will subtly reference one of your entertaining escapades, teasing you that anyone who repeatedly drunkenly asked whether turning a phone on aeroplane mode would give it the ability to fly is in no position to argue with him.

Joshua

❀ He is so unbelievably gentle with you. The moment he senses that you are getting ab bit too tipsy or borderline drunk, he will make sure to switch to water for himself instead. Although he enjoys the occasional drink, he wants to make sure that he is able to take care of you, letting you freely drink whilst he makes sure you do so safely.

❀ He is genuinely the sweetest, listening to all your drunken ramblings with a fond smile on his face. Whenever you are not paying attention to him, he will secretly switch out your alcoholic beverage for water, cheekily gaslighting you into believing that it is still the same drink by taking a sip himself and pretending that you are imagining things when exclaim it no longer tastes like vodka.

❀ When you guys get home, he will go into full caregiver mode, helping you remove your makeup, making sure that you didn’t forget to plug in your phone for the night and laying out your comfiest pyjamas for you to slip into after a brief shower. He will tuck you into bed after making sure that you drank enough water for the night, preparing a glass of water and some medication for you to take in the morning when the hangover kicks in, before turning in himself.

Jun

❀ The moment you enter your shared apartment drunk, Jun feels torn between laughing at your ridiculous actions spurred by your drunkenness and helping you sober up. Seeing you put your hand in the fish tank as you try to pet your now traumatised goldfish because you felt bad for never petting it before is hilarious to him. He is curious about what else you might do, following you around as you try to do more ridiculous things. He is thoroughly invested in seeing where your drunken brain is taking you next and what else you will get up to if he lets you roam around.

❀ Jun will entertain your drunken childlike curiosity, using it to finally be able to do the totally safe experiments you usually tell him off for. The two of you will engage in a plethora of dubious food experiments, mixing different drinks to find out whether they will taste any good together and go to the supermarket to buy a dozen different ice cream flavours in order to rank them all. Where usually you would scold him for trying to see whether a bath can really overflow, drunken-you would join him in watching the water level rise slowly.

❀ However, he simultaneously will be very caring, preparing a hearty meal to combat your drunkenness. He might not be the best chef in Seventeen, but he can cook up a couple of meals that help with absorbing the alcohol, preparing one of them to help you sober up a bit. He will ensure that you eat plenty of it and drink enough water before you go to bed.

Hoshi/Soonyoung

❀ In no universe is this man not drunker than you are when the two of you go out drinking. Hoshi’s tolerance is so incredibly low that he could get drunk on the smell of alcohol alone. The other members have to babysit the both of you, not even for your own safety but for those around you. He would be the type of person who, when you buy your shots, forgets that they are not his and, in his drunken stupor, take them when you turn around to pay. You are too drunk to notice either, not that it matters much, as you finish most of his drinks on accident, too.

❀ The dance floor is a danger zone when you two step onto it. Neither of you cares much about dancing decently; instead, the two of you have a competition going on who can come up with the most creative, shameless dance moves. The dance battle only ends when one of you accidentally knocks over a slow-dancing couple during an emotional ballad.

❀ The other members will ultimately have to step in, guiding you back home before either of you does something illegal. It is easier said than done; the two of you are so incredibly drunk that you decide to pose and take pictures with random statues you spot on your way home. Once home, they try to get you both to drink water but miserably fail as Hoshi completely breaks down, professing his undying love for you between sobs. The night ends with the two of you in each other’s arms, crying about how much you love each other.

Wonwoo

❀ Considering he doesn’t really drink himself, he will make sure you are not exceeding your drinking limits, babysitting you the entire time. However, where he usually makes sure to stop you from getting drunk the moment he notices you are getting tipsy, he hadn’t anticipated that the dinner with the members would turn into an out-of-control drinking party. When they suggested doing some drinking games whilst waiting for the food, he had assumed they would have gone easy on you; instead, you had lost so many of the drinking games that you were borderline drunk by the time that the food reached to your table.

❀ Throughout the dinner, Wonwoo tries to get you to drink as much water as he can. Your glass doesn’t stay empty for long as, rather than eating himself, he is way too focused on making sure that it is constantly filled with water. You have barely swallowed your food when he puts another piece of meat on your plate, hoping that the grease will help you sober up somewhat.

❀ When the members insist on playing more drinking games during and after the dinner, he initially refuses on your behalf. If you insist on continuing, he will awe the members by taking every punishment shot going your way for you. Unfortunately for him, the members have finally figured out a way to get Wonwoo to join their drinking festivities, using you as bait to get the usually introverted member to drink.

Woozi/Jihoon

❀ As another member who rarely, if ever, drinks, he always tells you to be careful when you do. When you get invited out for drinks with the members, he fully trusts them to keep an eye on you for his sake as he is stuck in the studio, having to finish a song. What he is not expecting, however, is for them to call him at 1 AM to come pick you up, as they may have grossly overestimated your alcohol tolerance. He can hear drunk-you brabble about how much you miss him in the background of the phone call as he talks to the members about coming over to take you home.

❀ With a big sigh, he makes his way over to the pub you guys had been drinking at, realizing that it might not have been the smartest to have the members who frequently drink and have built up quite the tolerance take you drinking. He is not necessarily angry at you or the members; instead, he is disappointed in himself for not having been there with you to ensure you would not go past your drinking limits.

❀ He is incredibly gentle with you when he finally arrives at the pub, scooping you up in his arms, ready to take you home. He will hear no apology on your part or the members, reassuring you that it happens and that although he would like for it to be prevented in the future, he understands that getting drunk happens. At home, he will be so soft as he makes sure to give you whatever you need. He will make sure not to leave your side, helping you shower and giving you plenty of cuddles in bed to make you feel better.

DK/Seokmin

❀ Another member who is probably just as drunk as you are, if not more. He would be getting drunk with you, sharing most of his drinks with you to the point where neither of you remembers which drink belongs to whom. He is definitely enabling your drunk behaviour and perhaps even the cause of it because whenever he picks up his shot of soju, he makes sure to give you one, too.

❀ He will rope you into doing something stupid, putting on one of his infamous skits with you as the second lead. You don’t know where he got a wig from, but he is fully engrossed in his role as Sandra, the woman who is about to be eaten by zombies. Where sober-you would be mortified by his behaviour, you are currently too drunk to care, down to join him as one of the vicious zombies. It doesn’t help that a small part of him still feels embarrassed about his actions and keeps taking a swig of the soju bottle left on your now-unoccupied table, making him progressively drunker as the performance continues.

❀ At the very least, your performance will be enjoyed by a considerably large, amused audience who decide to pay for some of your drinks in appreciation, making it a relatively cheap night out. Neither of you will be able to do much the next day as both of you completely forgot to drink water before going to bed, too busy re-enacting the best moments of your play, resulting in a massive hangover. As a result, the two of you spend most of the next day cuddled up in bed; DK claims that your hugs are the best cure for his crushing headache.

Mingyu

❀ Mingyu sometimes forgets that taller people tend to be able to drink more compared to those who are more vertically challenged; thus, he accidentally got you very drunk when he dragged you to go clubbing with him and the members. That being said, he is not feeling too guilty about it because where sober-you would try to limit the PDA in front of the other members, drunk-you completely forget they exist. Mingyu is on cloud nine when you start to touch him more than usual, thinking he has officially gone to heaven as you hug him close and refuse to let go.

❀ He is giggling uncontrollably, as you are all over him, insisting on slow-dancing to every song that comes on, even if it is to the most upbeat techno song. Although he makes sure that you don’t get too drunk, he will not make any attempts to sober you up immediately either, enjoying your attention way too much. He, for sure, will take at least fifty photos and videos where you are kissing his cheek and drunkenly rambling on and on about how much you love him, saving them for a rainy day. You are the cutest person alive to him, and he seriously considers always bringing you along from now on.

❀ Once home, he will make sure that you are fully provided for, cheekily suggesting to shower together as he is incredibly ‘worried’ that you might slip in the shower in your drunken state. Part of Mingyu is slightly sad to see you sober up when he hands you your tenth glass of water in an attempt to prevent a nasty hangover.

The8/Minghao

❀ There is no way in hell that Minghao is not watching you like a hawk when the two of you go drinking, taking away your drinks when he notices that you are getting a bit too out-of-control drunk. You always try to argue with him when he does, whining that you, the adult, know your limits and don’t need him to babysit you. Thus, to prove you wrong and to get you to stop arguing with him whenever he stops you from drinking, he makes a deal with you; you get to drink however much you want, and he won’t interfere with drunk you whatsoever.

❀ This is how you end up drunk out of your mind at one of the members’ birthday parties, challenging Seungkwan to an arm wrestling match after you had tried to beat a drunk and crying Hoshi in a dance battle without much success. You even competed in Scoups’ and Mingyu’s beer pong competition, making you drunker than you already were. Minghao hovers nearby, ready to jump in when necessary, keeping a close eye on your questionable actions. His phone is in his hands as he quietly films you from a distance, ready to present sober-you with the consequences of your drunken decisions.

❀ Nevertheless, he will interfere whenever you are about to do something too embarrassing; sure, he wants you to learn that you do stupid things when wasted, but he does not want you to be relentlessly teased by the other members for your intoxicated mishaps. Minghao will immediately take you back home and sober you up when he thinks that he has let you go on for long enough and that he has collected enough evidence to prove his claims. The next morning, he will lovingly confront you with reality, regardless of whether or not you are nursing a hangover, after which you agree that maybe, sometimes, he might have a point.

Seungkwan

❀ Seungkwan is honestly one of the best people to get drunk around. Sure, he drinks himself, but the moment he notices that he is getting tipsy, he slows down his drinking. He has had to deal with the members being drunk so often that he has developed successful ways of dealing with drunk people, making him well-equipped to deal with you. The moment you sheepishly admit that you are slightly drunk when you two are having dinner with the members, he will do his famous drunk check, rubbing over your forehead, making you giggle uncontrollably, before concluding that, indeed, you are gone.

❀ The entire evening, he will treat you like a little kid, listening to your drunken ramblings and providing you with sassy and funny remarks in exchange. He loves that you are laughing even more at his jokes than usual, and he will not miss a chance to elicit another fit of laughter out of you by doing something stupid. Seungkwan is not above embarrassing himself as long as it means that you are entertained.

❀ Honestly, I can’t imagine Seungkwan letting you do anything embarrassing. He will make sure that you sober up a little, providing you with water every now and then, and talk you out of whatever stupid plan you were about to execute. The moment he spots you climbing onto the bar, ready to execute your and Hoshi’s well-choreographed but slightly ridiculous dance routine, he will expertly redirect your attention to something else, making you completely forget about what you were about to do. As funny as he knows it would be for you to embarrass yourself, he knows you would be mortified the next day when you find out what you did the previous night and is fully committed to preventing that from happening. He would never let you do anything you would regret sober.

❀ Still, if you refuse to listen to him or you manage to do something stupid when he is momentarily distracted, he would not let you live it down.

Vernon

❀ Similarly to Jun, he is highly amused by your drunken escapades, curious to see what you will do. Where Jun, however, will join you in your antics, Vernon will mostly observe you, laughing his chair-screeching laugh as he does. He is not going to interfere whatsoever and lets you do whatever comes to your drunken mind, highly amused by whatever you are doing. Unless you are doing something illegal or dangerous, he is letting you do whatever your drunken brain convinces you to do.

❀ Getting drunk around Vernon means providing him with an arsenal of slightly embarrassing pictures that will be stored for later use. His phone is in his hand the whole evening, and he will make sure to snap thousands of images of your intoxicated self as you pose for him. You completely forget about him taking the pictures until he starts using them as stickers and memes in your private chat. Most of his reactions to your messages are you pulling a weird face. It wouldn’t have been that bad if he hadn’t started using them in the Seventeen group chat and as his phone’s background.

❀ As Vernon doesn’t strike me as someone who drinks often, he wouldn’t really be much help in sobering you up and making sure you won’t have too bad of a headache in the morning. Instead of making sure you drink enough water and get enough sleep, he convinces you to stay up late to watch a movie with him, entertained by your drunken commentary throughout, most of which he records. Needless to say, when morning arrives, you wake up with a lot of regrets.

Dino/Chan

❀ Dino is the king of being drunk; the amount of stories this dude has where he is wasted and doing something questionable are too many to count. Of course, he will be drunk with you, and of course, you two will create the best, most amusing drunk story ever. He had tried so hard to take the punishment shots for you whenever you lost a drinking game, not wanting you to get too drunk, resulting in both of you being incredibly intoxicated and hyping the other up to do some questionable stuff. The members tried to supervise the both of you, but you managed to escape when they got distracted for merely a second.

❀ In retrospect, your memories are kind of hazy on what had actually happened that night. In flashes, you remember a couple of rich people inviting you guys along, a boat, a garden gnome and something about a museum. Somehow, at the end of the night, you two end up in a fancy hotel, holding a garden gnome under your arm, all expenses paid, with the staff congratulating you on your engagement as you sport a very cheap plastic ring on your ring finger.

❀ In the morning, the two of you are nursing massive hangovers, utterly confused about where you are and how you managed to get there. Dino sees the thirty-plus missed calls from the members, knowing he is in a world of trouble, and someone mysteriously saved under the name Bob the Magician. The ring is so tight around your finger that you barely manage to get it off. Still, neither of you is planning on leaving any time soon, enjoying the luxury hotel the next couple of days as you try to piece together what transpired that night after ensuring the members that you are not dead in a ditch somewhere.

masterlist

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spiceofvy · 8 months ago

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🐙 here. again. How about Stray Kids as sugar babies? I don't mean that they're like, broke, but like if their partner treats them so much and so often that the sugar baby sugar parent jokes speak for themselves.

Anyway, who likes what kind of gifts; such as For-maximum-eyecandy-effect, being taken to events, cool tech, treated to food, that sort of thing. ...something around those lines, I mean, you're the writer so maybe you got a cooler spin on this.

Am currently unemployed and can't treat nobody rn but I feel the itch to be a sugar parent nowdays.

Hope you knock em dead ✌️

Spoiling SKZ with gifts

cws: fluff, gender neutral reader, two sensual innuendos (hyunjin, jeongin)

Chan: Noooo don't buy him things. He is the one that wants to spoil you instead. That's like his duty in the relationship. But he will wear anything and everything you buy for him. Especially if it's skzoo merch, but only if you also get something matching for yourself or else he will get it for you. Will pout and blush when you give him something but when someone asks him about it he will proudly tell everyone that you got it for him.

Minho: Shamelessly asks for things he likes but only he is 100% percent sure that you don't mind spending money on him and actually enjoy buying him stuff. Would totally love some expensive cat toys, or those treat dispensers that cats have to activate by pressing a button or solving a puzzle. Also enjoys being taken to super fancy restaurants, but he always insists on paying for the dessert. Once send you a picture of a fancy kitchen appliance as a joke and was very shocked when you actually got it for him.

Changbin: Our rich boy makes a challenge out of it. Who can spend more money on the other? Doesn't love to go out to restaurants but likes to get luxury takeout instead. Also enjoys a lot of expensive workout gear. Sends you even more workout pics afterwards. Answers any gift of yours with one of his own. Also shares every piece of food with you that you paid for and asks you to come to the gym with him so you can see him in the new gear.

Hyunjin: Less shameless than Minho, he wont straight up ask for things but instead sometimes just sends you links to stuff he likes. Especially likes being taken out to art shows or galleries. Or full shopping trips. Always models the stuff you got him afterwards for you. Especially when it's jewelry or perfume he wears only the jewelry and the perfume. Will totally tell the other boys that you paid for it, like the proud sugar baby he is.

Jisung: Mostly asks for food. Like snacks and (imported) candy. Ask absolutely shamelessly for it. Especially at food stands, picks like every different taste and makes you try it with him. Gets super happy about the good food. Also likes to be taken out to carnivals and theme parks. Prepare to pay and wear silly headbands and pose for all the photo ops. Also always buys you something in return.

Felix: Really enjoys being treated like that. Blushes dark red when you give him something and thanks you by plastering kisses all over your face. Especially like some fancy gaming equipment or lootboxes or genshin pulls. Totally shows off his new equipment to you and brags about it towards the others. Would never directly ask for anything, except for plushies. He gives them names and then treats them like they are your children.

Seungmin: Was really shy when you started to buy things for him. But he actually enjoys being spoiled. Mostly baseball tickets and manga. Really impressed when you know a new release before him. Gets soft about those gifts and treasures them a lot. Always blushes a little when he gets something from you. Invites you out for dinner shortly after you gifted him something.

Jeongin: Really enjoys being spoiled, full maknae mode. Loves getting clothes and short vacations. But always pays you back afterwards. Models the clothes, and gets you something matching. Massage your shoulders on the beach you took him too. Surely only with the intention to spread sun protection on your shoulders and back. Don't mind his hands wandering lower, and his pretty new clothes landing on the ground.

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steddiealltheway · 1 year ago

Text

Part Four of Six of Meddling ;). Part One. Two. Three. Ao3 Link.

Steve gets in the back of Nancy’s car and barely listens as Robin rambles on, “Okay, so I was thinking we would go to the fair in town today but a little earlier to get at least a photo on the Ferris wheel. Just a selfie of you two kissing at the top, and maybe a few pictures of you guys playing the carnival games and eating a funnel cake. Gosh, I’ve been craving a funnel cake recently. So, let’s do games first, funnel cakes when we get our appetite back, and Ferris wheel last! Oh, and we can eat while we wait in the Ferris wheel line.”

Steve, tunes back in for a moment and says without thinking, “You’re rambling.”

Robin shoots him a look with wide eyes. “No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are. You always get rambly when you’re nervous. Why are you nervous?” Steve is not prepared for any more tricks hidden up her sleeve.

“I’m not. I’m just excited for the funnel cake,” Robin explains, obviously lying.

Steve shoots Eddie a look to see if the lying is clear to him too. But Eddie isn’t paying attention. He’s just staring off deep in thought.

Steve slowly moves his hand to Eddie’s and laces their fingers together. Eddie breaks out of his thoughts momentarily to smile at him and squeeze his hand. Then, he’s looking out the window again, and the car becomes weirdly silent.

Steve would text him if only Eddie didn’t get so motion sick when reading in the car.

There’s tension radiating off of everyone as they approach the bright lights and carnival rides. Honestly, Steve would much rather go back home than to a fair to deal with whatever is happening. It feels like everything is either going to blow up in his face or magically turn into something great.

Steve buys his and Eddie’s tickets as soon as they get to the stand. Then he rushes off with him, leaving the girls stuck buying their own tickets.

“Eddie, now is definitely not the right time to say this, but-”

“Off to the ring toss!” Robin yells, tugging Steve’s hand and excitedly dragging him away with her.

Christ. Always coming in at the wrong time.

Steve reluctantly lets her drag him away, but soon, he’s focusing on winning Eddie a little yellow bat plush while Robin cheers him on.

He eventually gets it and turns around to find that only Robin is with him.

“Where are the other two?”

Robin puts her hands up. “I don’t know. My bet is Nancy is at whatever game has those little water guns and Eddie’s with her. But hey,” she says as she gets closer to him. “I’m glad we have a moment to talk. Because I kind of need to tell you something.”

Steve raises his eyebrow and crosses his arms. “That you’ve purposely meddled to get me to confess that I’m in love with Eddie, and you know that you didn’t have to go through all this effort for Veronica?”

Robin bites her lip. “Okay, yes and no. But-” she stops and gasps. “Wait, did you just admit that you’re in love with Eddie?”

Did he? Steve’s eyes widen. “Uh-”

“Hey!” Nancy says and directs her gaze at Robin.

Steve runs a hand over his face. Why is the universe so cruel to him?

“I got you something,” Nancy says, holding out a weird looking red robin plush, and Steve nearly laughs. He’s pretty sure that Robin’s going to laugh at the clear joke, but she just looks at the little creature in awe and cradles it to her chest, telling Nancy that she loves it.

What?

“Hey,” Eddie says, and just like that, Steve forgets every single thought he’s ever had.

“Hey,” Steve echoes. He looks down at his hands and realizes he has his own gift. “Here, I won this for you. Ring toss isn’t as hard as it looks.”

Eddie stares at the little bat and glances back up at Steve. “Thank you,” he says sincerely, hands brushing Steve's as he takes the stuffed animal.

There’s a bright flash as Nancy’s camera goes off and ruins the moment. “Sorry, I need to adjust the settings. I must’ve nudged the knob.”

Right. That’s why Eddie’s here with him.

“Okay, darts! We all have to give it a shot. But I want a few pictures of Steve teaching Eddie how to throw them,” Robin announces, holding her hands up to make a rectangle as if framing the two together.

“I thought you agreed to no more poses,” Steve states.

“Let a girl dream,” Robin says as she races off to wherever she spotted the darts.

Everything is going so damn fast, and Steve is slowly getting frustrated because he can’t put off this conversation any longer.

He makes Robin and Nancy go first to try to get Eddie to himself.

Robin has no sense of hand-eye coordination which makes the girls laugh and turn around to get Steve's and Eddie’s reaction every time she throws her darts. And considering that there are only three, the whole talking to Eddie plan goes up in the air.

Maybe when Nancy... Steve flinches as two pops ring through the air and suddenly Nancy’s darts are out of her hand. Then, Nancy is asking for another small plush which she hands to Robin who gives it right back and insists that she keeps it. It’s cute and incredibly frustrating.

Eddie leans in and whispers, “It’s okay. We have all the time in the world to talk eventually. For now, let’s enjoy ourselves, okay?”

Steve turns to him and nods with a tight smile because he wants to talk now.

But Eddie leans in and plants a kiss on his cheek that makes him feel like maybe he’s right, maybe they do have all the time in the world.

“I bet I can beat you in darts,” Eddie says with a big smile as he collects his darts.

Steve scoffs. There’s no way Eddie has better hand-eye coordination than him. So, Steve says, "Keep dreaming," then winks at him before throwing his dart.

He misses.

He shrugs it off thinking he’s just nervous about Eddie watching him.

Eddie smiles at him victoriously but as he turns away, he gets a serious look on his face. Well, serious enough with his tongue poking out at the corner. Steve can’t help but stare at it with a fond smile.

He startles when there’s a loud popping sound. Nancy and Robin cheer and Steve looks to where the dart sticks in the wall around the small remains of a balloon.

Eddie smirks at him, and Steve rolls his shoulders back. Alright, time to get a little more competitive. He takes a deep breath and focuses on a pale yellow balloon before throwing the dart.

It pops.

Eddie chuckles. “Of course you destroy the yellow one.”

Steve nudges him in response. Eddie winks at him and turns to the balloons.

Before he knows it, another balloon is popping.

Steve’s jaw drops. He has to be cheating.

He looks down at his last remaining dart and takes another deep breath. If he gets this, he has a chance at tying with Eddie.

He focuses on another yellow balloon - just for Eddie - and tosses the dart.

Robin whoops in celebration as it pierces the balloon.

Steve smiles widely and leans toward Eddie. “I bet you won’t be able to make this next one.”

Eddie raises an unimpressed eyebrow at him. “Why are you so sure?”

Steve shrugs with a smile.

“I could do it with my eyes closed,” Eddie presses on.

“Really?” Steve asks, stepping closer and getting in his face.

“There’s not a single thing that could make me miss this last shot,” Eddie says overly confident, tilting his head slightly to the right.

Steve leans closer until their noses are brushing. “Even if I kissed you?”

Eddie raises his eyebrows. His left arm wraps around Steve’s waist and he tugs him closer, kissing him smoothly.

It feels so right, and Steve is immediately melting.

Pop.

The kiss ends quicker than Steve would like. He finds Eddie giving him a wicked smile before he pulls away, going to pick a large prize.

“Holy shit,” Robin hisses behind Steve.

That’s what wakes him up. He’s in public with Eddie. He still needs to talk to him. And Eddie just somehow threw and landed a dart on a balloon while kissing him.

That is way hotter than he’s willing to admit.

Eddie comes into sight with a large yellow teddy bear that he thrusts into Steve’s hand.

“How’d you do that?” Steve asks.

Eddie shrugs. “My dad used to take me to the bar with him. I played darts while he got wasted.” He shakes his head as if he’s trying to clear the memory away.

“Eddie-”

“I got some great pictures from that, so I think we’re ready for funnel cakes and the Ferris wheel,” Nancy announces and cocks her head toward the food stands.

Steve shifts the teddy bear to his left side, freeing up his right hand to grab Eddie’s and squeeze it. He shoots him a sympathetic look before they take off after Nancy and Robin.

Steve’s eyes widen when they get to the stands. It’s a Saturday afternoon, so the lines stretch a bit far. He can only imagine how long the wait for the Ferris wheel will be.

He and Eddie turn to each other at the same time with similar horrified looks.

“Come on!” Robin yells at them.

Steve sighs and starts jogging toward the girls. Eventually, eventually he and Eddie will talk.

-:-:-:-:-:-

The wait is pretty tolerable once Nancy puts her camera away and Robin stops bringing up the whole fake dating mess. And waiting for the Ferris wheel is great when he gets to watch Eddie make a mess of himself with all the powdered sugar on his funnel cake. Robin and Eddie unintentionally start to make a game of who can get more sugar on their face, hair, and... everywhere really.

Nancy and Steve watch in amusement, not helping them indicate where they’ve got the white powder as they clean up with a single napkin. Once they get toward the front of the line, Steve carefully swipes at the sugar on Eddie’s cheek and somehow his eyebrow. Eddie closes his eyes and leans into the touch.

“Next!” the attendant calls out.

Robin and Nancy step forward into a pod and wave goodbye to the boys.

“Next!”

Steve walks forward and puts the teddy bear on the opposite side of the pod as Eddie climbs in and puts his little bat next to it.

“They look cute together,” Steve comments.

Eddie smiles at him tightly and looks like he’s about to throw up.

Right, this is the first time they’re able to talk alone.

“Eddie-”

Eddie holds up his hand and takes a shaky breath as they begin to move. “I know we need to talk, and we will. But please not right now.”

Steve’s heart breaks a little. He doesn’t even know what he’s done wrong. “Okay,” he says dejectedly.

Eddie’s hand squeezes Steve’s arm. “Hey, no. No. It’s just...” he takes a deep breath as Steve turns to him. “This is probably a bad time to mention it, but I’m really scared of heights.”

Steve can’t help but laugh. “Sorry, but didn’t you tell me all about how you used to love spending nights on top of your trailer staring at the stars?”

“When I was high out of my mind!” Eddie says.

Steve slips his arm around Eddie’s shoulders and glances at the people below them as they approach the side of the Ferris wheel. “Do you think anyone can see us up here?”

Eddie shrugs. “I doubt anyone would want to, especially since looking up here is a sure way to let the sun blind you.”

Steve leans in close to Eddie. “Then I know a way to distract you.”

The look on Eddie’s face is priceless when he gets what Steve is saying. His eyes flicker down to Steve’s lips. “Just remember to get a picture when we’re at the top or the girls will kill us.”

“Don’t worry, it goes around a few times.”

“It does what?” Eddie squawks.

Steve laughs loudly. “Didn’t you watch it go around any of the times while we were waiting?”

“And see my impending doom? Yeah. No thanks,” Eddie says with wide eyes. He eventually smiles. “Besides, I had something better to look at.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Eddie says, kissing Steve swiftly.

Steve smiles a bit too much into it which makes it hard to kiss Eddie, but he wouldn’t change anything about it.

He definitely needs to properly ask Eddie out... after he makes sure this isn’t just part of helping Robin with her Veronica situation. But Steve seriously doubts that’s why Eddie is doing all of this, especially with the way he’s kissing him right now.

Steve reluctantly pulls away and glances out. They’re about one stop away from the top, so he pulls his phone out of his pocket. He smiles at the lock screen, opens the camera, and hands the phone to Eddie. “Here, you took the picture before and were able to focus enough to throw that dart. I think I would forget as soon as I kissed you,” Steve confesses.

Eddie gives him a quick peck and hides his head in Steve’s neck. “I think I just looked out,” he groans.

He squeezes onto Steve who kisses him on the head. “I’ve got you.”

The ride slowly moves and stops again. Steve looks out and can’t help but admire the view for a moment. He looks straight down, and his stomach churns a bit. Yeah, he can understand Eddie’s fear.

“Eddie,” he says gently, “Why don’t you keep your eyes closed while we’re up here? I can quickly kiss you and take the picture.”

Eddie shakes his head and pulls back to look Steve in the eye. “It’s okay. I’ll be fine. I’ve got you here.” He slowly glances out and takes their city in. He takes a breath and looks back at Steve. “Yeah, I never want to do this again.”

“And that’s perfectly okay,” Steve states. “Once everyone is loaded on it’ll go around a few times, and it’ll be over.”

Eddie nods and holds up his phone. “Let’s get this picture first.”

The picture goes smoothly. At least, he hopes it does, because he’s deepening the kiss almost immediately. He can’t help himself when it comes to Eddie.

He secretly hopes he left his live photos on.

When the Ferris wheel starts moving, Eddie breaks away and buries his head into his neck. Steve smiles and holds him close, letting Eddie hold on tight and curse as much as he wants.

Eventually the ride is over, and Eddie quickly jumps off, runs down the ramp, and dramatically falls to the ground to praise it. Steve just rolls his eyes and picks up their yellow prizes. He makes his way down the ramp at a speed a normal person would take and joins where Robin and Nancy are standing, looking down at Eddie.

“Is he okay?” Nancy asks with concern and confusion in her expression.

Steve glances down to where Eddie is sprawled out on the ground and smiles. “Yeah, just a bit dramatic.”

Eddie sits up and gasps. “I’m not dramatic!”

“I can’t wait to tell Dustin that.”

“You wouldn’t dare!”

Robin cuts them off. “I’m glad you two are having fun, but we need to discuss something.”

That sounds serious. He gives Robin a look.

“Oh, not serious! We were just wondering if you wanted to have the trial run dinner tonight? We would have Nancy act like Veronica and have you guys answer any question she has. After, we’d watch a movie then I was thinking about getting Chinese takeout for our real dinner?”

“I’m down as long as Steve wears the sweater,” Eddie says still sitting on the ground.

Steve rolls his eyes but answers, “Sounds good.”

Yeah, they need to talk, but Eddie’s right. They have all the time in the world. Because really. What could go wrong with a trial run dinner?

Part Five

Tag List:

@henderdads @little-gae-shit @dreamingtheimpossibe @leethegay @lazyavenuewhispers @olibxr @thegayestpersonever @heartsforhawke @estrellami-1 @messrs-weasley @evillitteguy @miss-hit @infrogulous @romanticdestruction @liz5100 @evix-syne666 @bebe07011 @corrodedseraphine @meganwinchester @manda-panda-monium @heartdinosblog @ellietheasexylibrarian @newtstabber @irregular-child @turboprops69 @envyadams-vs-me @dude-as-in-i-love-u @slv-333 @jillfriend

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie fanfic #robin buckley #nancy wheeler

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nerdiel-has-no-braincells · 1 year ago

Text

To Be With You

feat: geto suguru x gn!reader, gojo satoru x gn!reader

summary: a continuation of What Ifs featured within the movie

cw: jjk 0 spoilers, cursing, angst, still no happy ending

9 years had passed since you were killed. 9 years since Suguru had betrayed the Jujutsu society. 9 years.

Satoru missed everything about you; your voice, your smile, your laugh, your warmth, the way you said his name, everything.

He never moved on from you — he never wanted to. You would remain his one and only and he was determined to live life alone. Screw producing an heir for his clan. His clan will live and die with him.

Today was the anniversary of your death, and Satoru was in a bad mood. He always was around this time of the year. But he had his responsibilities to his students, who he accompanied on a mission. As soon as they were done here, he’d visit you.

It was something he always did. When there was news, good or bad, whenever he missed you, on your birthday, or just whenever he wanted to be in your presence, he visited you and spoke with you pretending you were sitting right there listening. It brought comfort to his broken heart.

Standing on the sideline watching his students, he looked back on the times you were alive.

He didn’t frequent the arcade as often until he met you. He was immediately attracted to you and as he got to know you, it didn’t take him long to fall in love with you.

Once you said yes after Satoru asked you out on a date, he was ecstatic. He literally raised his fists in the air yelling ‘Yes’, making you laugh and later reprimanded by your boss for being distracted. But you didn’t mind and you never blamed Satoru.

You were his first in a couple of things: his first relationship, his first love, and even his first sexual partner. But you were his first everything.

Playing with the matching ring that had stayed on his finger all these years, Satoru felt his mind go elsewhere.

He was able to find your ring once he got the courage to walk up to your parents and introduce himself. They were skeptical at first until he showed them his ring, which matched the ring that was on your finger.

That day, the three of them sat down and they asked so many questions about you. How you were doing and such.

Satoru knew you weren’t close with your parents because they were gone all the time, but he was more than happy to fill in the spaces.

He learned that they had quit their jobs shortly after receiving the news and came home immediately to cremate and prepare your memorial service. They deeply regretted not being home and if they could go back in time, they’d spend more time with you.

Satoru had also learned that they were moving away. They couldn’t bear to continue living at that home anymore. They even offered Satoru to come and take anything he wanted from your room for the memories, which he happily agreed to.

There wasn’t much he wanted from your room. More like, he couldn’t stay in there long as the memories flooded in the longer he stayed there. So he took only a few items: the stuffed animal he won you at a carnival, the photos of the two of you together throughout your time together, the hoodies and shirts you stole from him, and your perfume, which he still has to this day.

Whenever he misses you to the point where he couldn’t sleep, he sprayed your perfume on the plush he took home with him and hugged it. It usually gave him the sweetest dreams of you.

Occasionally he would dream of the harsh reality, only he would be there throughout the entire ordeal, unable to move or speak as he watched you die. He was just thankful he never saw your body otherwise the nightmares would become much worse.

“Gojo-sensei!”

Snapping out of his thoughts, Gojo looked up as his students Yuta, Panda, Maki, and Toge walked up to him. Maki wore her usual annoyance on her face while the other three remained neutral.

Sporting his usual smile on his face, he congratulated them on finishing the mission.

“And yet you stood on the sidelines like always.” Maki commented as she crossed her arms. This caused Satoru to chuckle.

Shrugging his shoulders, he responded. “If I did anything the curse would be exorcised immediately.” Pouting, he poked Maki’s cheek, causing her to growl in annoyance.

“How would you grow then?” He continued as he poked her cheek a couple of more times before she swung her spear at him, missing as he jumped back while laughing.

“As much as I love this game, I have somewhere I need to be.” Satoru responded, turning and walking away waving his hand. “Bye bye!”

Maki yelled a string of curses and insults at him as he walked away.

Once he was out of sight, she crossed her arms pouting.

“Salmon?” Toge asked, tilting his head to the side.

Panda tilted his head as well, bringing his thumb and index finger under his chin, humming.

“That’s a good question.” He responded. Blinking as he got an idea, he looked at the trio. “We should follow him!”

Yuta, Toge, and Maki looked at Panda before glancing at each other and nodding in agreement.

Satoru, who went home and changed out of his work uniform and into a pair of ripped jeans, black shoes, rectangular black shades, and a black long sleeved shirt made a mental note of everything he needed to get before he went to you.

First thing he always got was your favorite sweet uriō from a sweet shop the two of you frequented together.

The owner knew Satoru by name as he visited frequently and every year he made sure to save one uriō for Satoru.

Watching Satoru walk into the sweet shop, Maki groaned.

“That old man and his sweets. I should have known. This was a waste of time.” She complained, turning around to walk away.

“Wait, he’s coming back out.” Yuta pointed out.

“It looks like he’s going to a flower shop.” Panda continued.

Maki about-faced and watched her teacher walk from the sweet shop and into the floral shop.

“Kelp!” Toge said.

Maki shook her head. “There’s no way that idiot is in a relationship. Who would be dumb enough to like him?”

“We’ll have to keep following to find out.” Panda responded.

As Satoru left the floral shop, he made his way to his final destination: a vending machine.

This particular vending machine was the one the two of you frequented and was the only one that carried your favorite melon soda.

Inserting money into the machine, Satoru pressed the melon soda button and the coke button. Reaching his hand in, he put the soda in the bag with your dessert before making his way to his final destination.

He knew his students had been following him, but he honestly didn’t care so long as they didn’t stop him. Even if they did, he would teleport away, but it was something he didn’t want to do since the walk to the graveyard held so many memories; both good and bad.

It was the same route the two of you took to and from Jujutsu Tech, and it was the same route that took him to the cemetery, the same route he followed your parents as they held your ashes.

The same ashes he asked half of, which they happily agreed to split you with him. Your parents liked Satoru and they wished they had met him sooner while you were still alive.

Entering the cemetery, Satoru made his way to your family grave location, stopping directly at yours.

“Hey (Y/N).” He greeted, a somber smile reflected on his face before he sat down.

Usually he cleaned your grave marker, but it looked like it had been cleaned recently. Maybe your parents had stopped by earlier. There was another bouquet of flowers that adorned your grave. Normally there was a singular flower but it looks like whoever left it every year didn’t leave it just yet.

“It’s been 9 years already.” Satoru continued, digging through his bag before setting your dessert and melon soda down. Satoru had also fished out a framed photo of you that your parents had given him and placed it on your grave.

“It feels like it’s been a hundred without you though.”

Setting the flowers down next to your snack and drink, Satoru fished out incense and lit it, biting his bottom lip.

“I miss you. So much.” His voice hoarse as tears formed on his eyelashes.

“It’s pathetic, I don’t even know how to go on without you still. But I don’t even want to.” He exhaled a laugh.

“What’s worse is I’m the reason you died. If I didn’t introduce myself to you, you wouldn’t have been in danger. If I kept my distance, you wouldn’t have died.

I could apologize until my dying breath and it wouldn’t be enough. But I know you’d smack my arm and tell me to cheer up, that it wasn’t my fault.”

The tears fell down Satoru’s cheeks.

“But I know deep down it is my fault. If I didn’t hide myself from you, I would have been able to protect you.”

Laughing again, he wiped his tears.

“I’m always like this in front of you. I probably look stupid, huh? I should tell you about my new students.”

Maki, Panda, Toge, and Yuta watched Satoru as he sat down and took everything out before he began to talk. When they saw his tears, they felt their hearts drop to their stomachs, feeling as if they had witnessed something they were never meant to see.

Looking at each other, they turned and quietly left their teacher as he talked to you.

Hours had passed and Satoru had finished updating you with everything. Picking up the framed photo of you, he rubbed his thumb against it, a warm but sad smile decorating his face.

“I love you (Y/N).” He whispered.

Standing from his spot, he patted his pants from any dust before pocketing your photo and walking away.

Satoru had stayed by your grave marker almost the entire day before finally leaving.

As soon as he was out of sight, footsteps sounded and neared your grave marker before stopping in front of it. Noticing the sweets and drink, a smile formed on Suguru’s face. Even after all these years, Satoru knew your favorites.

Bending down to set the single flower next to the others, Suguru sat down, resting his arm on one of his knees.

“Hey (Y/N). I’m sure you don’t want to see me, so I’m sorry I keep making an appearance before you.” Suguru said, smiling.

“Out of everyone, you probably would rather see Satoru more than me since I’m the one who killed you.”

Closing his eyes, he remembered your final moments. You had closed your eyes, accepting your fate right before you died. You hadn’t even cursed him or looked at him with hatred in your final moments. He deserved it.

Opening his eyes once again, he opened his palm, opening the portal where his curses resided.

The one thing that Satoru never knew was that you had become a curse yourself; a powerful one in fact. Your parents’ negative energies created you and shortly after your memorial service, Suguru found you in front of your grave marker, staring at it.

Your cursed form was beautiful. You kept your human form but the things that changed was that your chest was transparent, showing your rib cage and a hole where your heart resided, your stomach completely disappeared and showing your spine and the top of your hips.

Your eyes were hollowed out and your hair flowed behind you as if there was a never ending wind. Your nails had turned into talons, sharper than piano wire, easily cutting the hardest substance into pieces.

Suguru truly thought you never looked more beautiful and he had to have you. If you were to be graded, you would have been a special grade.

Forming outside the void, you stood in front of your grave marker once again. Suguru never let you out except on this special day. You were too beautiful to be like the other curses. He didn’t want to taint you.

“Looks like Satoru left you your favorites (Y/N).” Suguru mentioned to you. He could see that you were staring right at them with your hollowed out eyes.

“Sa…to…ru…” You spoke, a higher and deeper voice resonated alongside your own. “Sato…ru?”

Suguru nodded. “That’s right! Satoru!”

“Sato…ru…see?” You asked, looking at Suguru, who smiled to hide his annoyance.

“All in due time, (Y/N). You’ll be reunited with him again in a few short months.”

Even as a curse you were thinking of Satoru, and it pissed Suguru off.

How dare you continue to think of him when it was Suguru who spent these past 9 years with you. When it was him who kept you company, who taught you to hone your cursed energy for one reason.

To kill Satoru.

He believed it to be poetic to have the one Satoru loves kill him just as you died to someone who loves you. It brought a pure euphoric mood to Suguru as he thought of it.

He just had to wait until December 24th.

Suguru fucked up. He never expected Yuta to have a special grade curse that could easily overtake his own.

Finding a recluse area, Suguru slid down and attempted to catch his breath.

You had forced your way out while he was weak and stood in front of him, staring down at him.

“Su…guru?”

He looked up at you and smiled.

“I’m alright (Y/N), I just need some rest.” Suguru assured you.

You nodded and continued to watch him. He wondered what thoughts you had when you looked at him. Were you full of anger? Sadness? Or did you feel nothing?

Laughter came as an exhale as he leaned his head back against the wall, closing his eyes. While you spoke, you rarely said much, much less shared your thoughts.

Chuckling, Suguru opened his eyes.

“You’re late.” He spoke out as Satoru stepped up to him.

“So you’ll be the one to take me down, huh?” He continued, looking at Satoru who stood nearby.

Did he notice you yet? Does he even realize?

“How’s my family?”

“They all got away.” Satoru responded, eyeing you. You hadn’t moved an inch, keeping an eye on Suguru as if you were waiting for something.

The two continued on with their conversation, all the while Suguru glanced between you and Satoru. It seemed like he hadn’t noticed. How sad for you.

“Any last words?” Satoru asked, continuing to eye you. Something felt familiar but he couldn’t place it.

Suguru smiled as he looked up at you.

“No matter what, I’ll always hate those little monkeys. But it’s not like I hate everyone at Jujutsu High.

It’s just that in this world, I couldn’t be truly happy from the bottom of my heart.”

Satoru was silent before asking “Is that why you killed (Y/N)?”

Suguru chuckled, his eyes shone as they looked at you.

“You don’t understand Satoru…”

You twitched.

“(Y/N) became so much more than she could ever have achieved. She’s so much more beautiful than she ever could have been.”

Satoru blinked, furrowing his brows in confusion before looking at you, who slowly looked at him.

“Sa…to…ru?” You said in broken words, looking directly at him.

The sight of you caused Satoru’s eyes to widen.

“How?” He exhaled. Pain reflected on his face as his expression twisted into sadness. “Why?”

Seeing what you had become broke his heart once again. He never wished for you to become like this, to turn into a curse. But he somehow had never heard of a curse resembling you before.

Suguru chuckled once again.

“Beautiful, isn’t she? She’s more ethereal than she ever could have been.”

“She’s a curse Suguru!” Satoru spat. “Do you realize what she’s become?!”

You tilted your head before disappearing and reappearing in front of Satoru, causing him to freeze as he looked into your hollow eyes.

“Satoru?” You asked, reaching your arms out to him.

Satoru jumped back, ready to fight you. You stopped and stared at him with your brows upturned as if his actions hurt you. You disappeared and reappeared in front of him again, this time, hovering in the air and cradling Satoru’s cheeks in your hands, careful to not cut him with your talons.

This time, Satoru stayed still, staring at you with wide eyes.

You smiled widely as you kept saying his name repeatedly.

Suguru watched with interest. If this is what it took to render the strongest sorcerer helpless, he would have used you sooner. But he kept maintaining your innocence and purity for nothing other than his own greed.

It was Suguru who refused to let you go this entire time.

Satoru had found a way to move forward with his grief while Suguru held onto it — onto you.

“I love Satoru!” You said.

Satoru’s wide eyes filled with tears. He wanted nothing more than to talk with you again, to see you again. But not like this. Never like this.

“Forgive me (Y/N)…I couldn’t save you. It’s my fault you died.” Satoru said in between sobs.

Shaking your head, your smile widened.

“Not Satoru’s fault. Satoru didn’t know.” You responded.

“Happy to see Satoru.” Tears fell out of your hollowed eyes and down your cheeks, Satoru’s following afterwards.

He gently placed his hands on top of your own and he closed his eyes. He couldn’t bear to watch what he was about to do.

Pressing his hands down, he passed his curse energy into you, exorcizing you in an instant. Opening his eyes again, he looked back up at where you hovered, lowering his hands.

Suguru brought Satoru’s attention back to him with his chuckle.

“I was so determined to make sure she wouldn’t be tainted by being similar to other curses that I ended up turning the strongest curse into one of the more humane ones. How foolish of me.”

Satoru put his hands in his pockets and made his way back to Suguru.

“You loved her as much as I did, of course you wouldn’t want to see her like the others.”

Suguru looked at Satoru with widened eyes, watching him crouch down in front of him.

“How did you know?”

Satoru chuckled. “You weren’t exactly hiding it, Suguru.”

Suguru let out a self-deprecating laugh before Satoru spoke once more, saying the words he never thought he’d ever hear after all of these years.

Another laugh escaped from Suguru’s mouth as he smiled at Satoru.

“You should at least curse me at the end.”

Another year had passed and it had been 10 years since you died, and almost 1 since Suguru died.

Yet, this year, Satoru felt better since he received the closure he never knew he needed. Granted he will always carry the heartbreak over the death of his first and only love and the betrayal and death of his only best friend.

He wouldn’t have any other.

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