#anyway i had this idea for years and finally caved in

[fevertowrite]

turtle tenderloin

Summary: Donnie doesn't remember yelling for help; he can barely register what the Mini-Meat Sweats are saying to him – if they are even talking to him – all he can hear is the ringing of his ears and his body feeling like it's on fire. He needs fresh air – he needs to get out.

Takes place in-between the episode Donnie's Gifts, where the Mini-Meat Sweats have him on a spit, ready to be cooked. One-shot

x

The multiple Mini-Meat Sweats, no thanks to the Silver Fish powers, spots Donnie, grab him by his ankle, and reel him to the ground. Hands, so many tiny hands are on him. There are too many hands that, to get away, he fails terribly. He hates being touched, and now it feels like a million little crawly hands are on him, and he wants to gag. 

Donnie doesn't remember yelling for help; he can barely register what the Mini-Meat Sweats are saying to him – if they are even talking to him – all he can hear is the ringing of his ears and his body feeling like it's on fire. He needs fresh air – he needs to get out.

He watches as he's dragged away from his brothers to when he's finally led to the big cauldron in the middle of the room. 

It doesn't register to him with what's going on; his hands are flailing, his legs are kicking, and he knows he's in a fight or flight situation. He needs to calm down. 

Don tries to find comfort in his battle shell, the tightness around his shoulders, and the reassurance around his shell; it protects him. 

It may not be enough. 

He's still not registering with what's going on; Donnie tries to think of his battle shell pressing against his own, the comfort, anything to calm him down – but he hears the recognizable pffff of his battle shell and feels the cold air wrap around his now naked softshell. 

He blinks, barely registering the fact he's on some sort of spit and keeping him on there is…sausage links? Were they cooking him alive?!

He struggles under the restraints; he's been doing that for too long now, struggling. And he's losing the battle; he should've fought the Mini-Meat Sweats before putting him on the spit; he should've done more than to be where he's at currently. 

The Mini-Meat Sweats glows and transforms back to his old Pork Rind self. 

Despite the fogginess in his mind and outgrowing fear that he has to get the fuck out, it deems to him that his brothers must have stopped fighting. It's the only reason Meat Sweats transformed back to himself, so his brothers should be coming. They're coming. 

The fear and anxiety don't stop, though; seconds turn to minutes, and Meat Sweats is prepping him; he's going to be cooked. Meat Sweats grabs a pound of butter, and Donnie wants to laugh. There's no way this guy is serious, there's no – 

Don physically gags when the butter pours on him, like gravy to mashed potatoes. He feels sick, his face paling two shades lighter. He's going to be eaten alive. 

Panicked, he lost count of when his brothers were supposed to come to the rescue. They should be in the area – somewhere. But instead, the pot's steam makes him nauseous, and the sticky butter makes him physically recoil. He hates sticky substances, feeling sticky, the smell and the heat coming below him, and can this thing stop spinning him around?

He can twist his hand and type on his tech watch despite his hands being tied. He dials Raph, desperate for someone to answer. While calling, Meat Sweats is making some seasoning; he smells garlic, onions, and paprika, and his stomach churns again – answer, please answer, please – 

"Ooh, hey buddy! Hey. Um. Really loving the gifts you got us." Don hears Raph chuckle nervously, "Yeah, we…we know how long it took you to make 'em, and it was so thoughtful." 

Whatever Raph's saying, Donnie isn't listening, "Get me out of here; he's about to eat me alive!" He yells, still struggling to get out of the sausage links. He feels the wire scrap on his softshell, he hates feeling so damn useless and asking for help, but his brothers never came for him. He can't feel bad about himself right now and can't psych himself out as to why his brothers abandoned him – his goal is to make it out alive. 

Raph doesn't hear him and asks to repeat what he said. Donnie literally wants to scream, "Where did you guys go?" He cries out, "They're gonna cook me alive!" 

Raph doesn't answer, but Donnie hears them talking. His brothers are useless, he's useless, he is done for, his heart falls to his stomach, and his ears are back to ringing. 

"Mm. A delicate soft shell. A sprinkle of paprika should unleash the flavor!" 

He comes over to Donnie, sprinkling the turtle with the homemade seasoning and some in the boiling water. 

"I promise, I won't taste good; I'm all sweaty and gross and –"Donnie is doing everything he can so Meat Sweats can back off, but it's no use. He sounds so winded and out of breath; he hates feeling weak and sounding so weak. He feels like he's practically begging, but Meat Sweats' goal is to eat him – and eat him good.

"Don't worry, Laddy, I can make anything scrumptious." He grabs a knife in one hand and carrots in another and starts chopping them in the water. "Y'know, soft shells are rare." He tells him like Donnie doesn't know, and mutant soft shells are even rarer. He sees Meat Sweats literally drool at the thought of it, and it's making Donnie sick again. 

He still struggles against the sausage links and may be a bit cartoonish, but he really did hope the butter would make him slide out of it. But nope – he's still raveled in between, and when the water starts to bubble and pop, he knows it's ready for him. 

His shell starts to burn, the steam suffocating him. He's sweating, his head starts to feel lightheaded, and he no longer struggles with the restraints. He's accepted it; his brothers aren't coming, he hears them try to make a plan, and he mutters he's still on speaker, but no answer. Finally, he closes his eyes; this is it – he's done for. 

x

After minutes, Donnie hears his brothers in the room; he doesn't know if he should yell, cry, or be relieved; he wants nothing and everything to do with them.

"Hey, Meat Sweats." He hears Mikey faintly, the steam burns his eyes, but he opens them for a quick second.

"Distraction-Jitsu!" Raph says, or at least he thinks it's Raph. But, then, someone grabs him out of the spit. He blinked a few times, letting the tears fall – he was not crying; his eyes were literally being burned.

Once they leave the room, Donnie struggles against him. 

"Hey, hey, buddy, you're okay now. You're okay –" 

"Let go of me," His voice shakes and he hears the hesitation in Raph's breath, but he needs to breathe, he needs to – 

Raph doesn't argue, and Donnie's not sure if it's because he knows better or that Meat Sweats is chasing them and doesn't want to talk about it. Whatever it is, he's thankful there's no rebuttal, and Raph lets him go. 

Donnie leans into the cool tiled floor, unknowingly catching his breath. Breathing just steam was hard; being seasoned and the butter being – and still clinging – on him was hard. He just needs a minute. 

Raph doesn't even have a minute to unwrap him out of the sausage links before Meat Sweats literally pushes him away from Donnie. He watches his brothers fight, too tired to restrain from the sausage links. Someone will get him out of it; the adrenaline wears off and leaves him in a pile of goo. 

He's gonna be okay, he tells himself; they can go home, he can take a long bath and wear his comfort prosthetic and his purple hoodie. He's okay; his brothers have his back even in moments when they fail him. 

He just needs to catch his breath. 

#tw: anxiety attack #in case cause he def is having one #anyway i had this idea for years and finally caved in #rottmnt #tmnt #donnie's gifts #donnie #meat sweats #i mean there was a good moment of him being alone w meat sweats so i had to #rise!donnie #panic #anxiety #tmnt fanfiction #donatello #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #fever writes

[thevoidstaredback]

Saturday's at Wayne Manor are family days. The whole weekend is reserved for the family to come and go as they please, but the biggest events are the Game Days on Saturday from 11:00 to 16:00 and Sunday Dinner at 18:00.

Every Saturday is a Game Day, but the third Saturday of each month is Competition Day. The kids all choose their favorite games, and everyone competes against each other. It's very rarely missed by anyone, but there have been times when someone has had to tap out for one reason or another. Alfred keeps track of who's missed how many days. Barbra keeps the tally of who's won what and how many times. At the end of the year, on December 31st, the scores are announced.

Sunday Dinners are sacred. No one ever misses a Sunday Dinner. The last person who did Jason is still getting subtle jabs and looks from everyone and that was a year ago and he had a very good reason, thank you very much! Everyone is always present for Sunday Dinner because everyone still has a room and the option to stay the night between the two days. Most usually take up the offer, but there have been extenuating circumstances that have pulled someone from the Manor.

No matter any of that because everyone is here and everyone is staying the night. That means everyone is patrolling Gotham tonight. Almost everyone. Batwoman has offered to take over Bludhaven for the night, so that's where she's gone.

Bruce plans to present his idea of messing with his coworkers when everyone gets back to the cave after patrol. All his kids know who they all are, having been trained by him, so there's no risk or accidental reveals on his part. In actuality, the kids thought of it like a game. They even had a folder for it on the Bat Computer and everything!

Yes, that night, after everyone returned to the Bat Cave, he would gather his Chaos Gremlins and invite them to mess with the Justice League with him. He'd also try and get Alfred in on it. Family bonding, and all that.

Though, making his kids sweat was its own form of amusement for him. It was 3:00 when everyone finally returned. They all ran their own routes, watched over by Oracle, and their own times, but everyone was always done no later than 3:00. It was a rule that the Gotham Rouges had yet to pick up on because Batman went back out until dawn more often than not.

Anyway, Bruce has been the first to get back and had put on an act of being upset. He usually kept his Batman persona with his suit, so he was rarely ever this stoic while he was Bruce Wayne. He hid his smirk as he sat at the head of the meeting table in the Cave, waiting for his children to change and sit with him. Duke normally was asleep by now, but he'd asked the boy to be there, letting him in on the harmless prank while they waited for his siblings and Stephanie to arrive.

Once everyone was seated, he waited a total of thirty seconds, meeting eyes with every one of his children, before he spoke. "I'm very disappointed."

Dick's eyes narrowed ever so slightly. He'd known Bruce the longest - aside from Alfred - and had likely picked up on something the second he saw Bruce and Duke at the table. "At who?"

"The Justice League," It was amusing to watch the tension melt off of all of them when he shook his head, "We all know who all of them are, as well as everyone who trained under them, but they don't know who we are."

"Except Wonder Woman," Jason pointed out, "She figured me out when I came back."

Fair, Bruce supposed. Jason was always Diana's favorite. "I think they need some help," he said, "A push in the right direction, so to speak."

Stephanie had a smile on her face that promised mischief. "We're not telling them, right? 'Cause that'd be no fun."

"Course not!" Duke yawned, "B said we'd give them a hint."

"What did you have in mind, father?" Damian asked, stoic as always, but matching the gleam in Cass's eyes.

"We invite them to the Bat Cave," he said, "Show them around a bit. The only exits we tell them about, though, should be the Lane," How the ground vehicles get in and out. "-the Zeta Tubes," Obviously. "-and the elevator. But, we don't tell them what's upstairs."

Alfred seemed very amused from where he had taken his seat at the other end of the table.

"From there," Bruce continued, "We invite their civilian identities to the next Gala. Meet them. Hint about the Cave without actually saying anything. If I know Clark as well as I know I do, then he'll, at the very least, piece together that the Bat Cave is under Wayne Manor."

"And if we play it right?" Dick's grin was manic, "They won't connect who we are."

"Won't that be suspicious, though?" Tim spoke up for the first time, "They may not have put things together yet, but they aren't stupid. They're heroes. If we give them the pieces, they're gonna piece them together."

Damian was the one to answer him. "Batman and Bruce Wayne hate one another, though there is a grudging acknowledgement and respect."

"Give them the right pieces, with a few from the wrong puzzle, in the wrong order, we could totally have them fooled!" Jason explained.

The group shared looks between each other. Nothing needed to be said because the looks and movements said everything.

Alfred smiled and shook his head fondly. "You may plan this in the morning. For now, go to bed and get some sleep."

Part 1 Part 3

#bruce wayne is batman's biggest hater #batman is bruce wayne's biggest hater #the batman #batman #bruce wayne #wayne family adventures #wayne family #dcu #dc comics #dc #dc universe #justice league #secret identities #pranks #they're a family of detectives #of course they'll use their powers for good! #they're actually a family of drama queens #but don't tell the jl or their kids

[miniwheat77]

Bunny. (Dark!141 x Reader)

*REPOST* (A comment if this reached your feed would be amazing.)

!CW! NSFW, Smut, Gang bang, 141 being creepy and dark, Virgin!reader, reader being innocent, implied consent, oral sex (m&f receiving), coercion, drugs & alcohol, roofies, double penetration, unprotected sex, pure filth. (Sorry if I missed any.)

GET A WATER BEFORE YOU READ 🥵

You were excited to be chosen to be apart of Task Force 141.

You felt special because you know only the most skilled are chosen for the team.

Your first few weeks on the base was awesome. It was pretty hands on, missions every week. There was always something around every corner, but once Hassan had been eliminated, there wasn’t much to do other than your chores around the base. You did your fair share of research but there weren’t any new leads on the next target. It was boring and most of your time you spent inside your room on base.

You noticed that everyone was pretty quiet on base. They didn’t do much talking and they seemed to have this dark look in their eyes when they looked at you.

You ignored it and always made conversation with them anyways, not wanting any tension between you. You noticed sometimes they made jokes about you right in front of you, mostly about how innocent you are. You didn’t like that they made fun of you, but you always just laughed it off.

You did your best at being patient with them.

Sometimes you didn’t like what they had to say about other women on base or had previously been on it with them. They usually said pretty derogatory insults. Or gross ones you didn’t want to cause any trouble so you stayed quiet, usually just excusing yourself from the table. You didn’t want to hear it.

You sat at your desk in your assigned room. It was quiet. You were looking through a stack of paper, looking for any leads on a next target. A knock at your door brought you out of your thoughts, turning to look at the door. “Come in!” You called.

“Hey. We’re playing a drinking game. You want to play?” Gaz asks. “Uh.. I don’t know about that.” You laugh. Knowing that something like this probably wouldn’t go too well. He crosses his arms. “Oh come on.. don’t be such a prude.” He rolls his eyes. You sigh. You had a bad feeling about this. He continues to pressure you for a few minutes before you finally cave in. “Alright fine.” You stand up from your desk, following him out.

Everyone is already waiting. They have everything laid out on the table. It’s the large oak table in the meeting room. They’re all sitting around it. “Alright. We’re starting with one on one. You and Ghost will go against each other first.” You look confused. “Just so you’ll get used to it, yeah? You have to throw the penny into the shot glass while blindfolded, if you don’t make it, you have to drink. Whoever drinks all 5 shots first loses.” You nod your head. They pass you a blindfold, Gaz helps you tie it behind your head. The small shot glasses are lined up in front of you.

You don’t see that they never put a blindfold on Ghost.

Ghost takes the tiny vial of white crushed powder out of his pocket, he’d come prepared. This had been planned out for some time.

He taps the vial until it’s empty into the first shot glass, allowing you to go first. You miss the first shot, and they pass you the shot glass. Evil smiles playing at their lips. You had no idea what was about to happen. You tip it back, flinching at the taste of the liquor as it burns your throat. You miss all 5 of your shots and somehow, Ghost doesn’t miss one. You’re 5 shots in, feeling out of it. They catch up a little bit, taking shots here or there just to give themselves a little bit of liquid courage. “So. How long have you been in the military?” Soap asks. You smile. “Few years.” Your words are slurred and you’re almost exactly where they want you. “Yeah? You were on bases before this obviously. Got a favorite?” He asks. “Not really. Aside from this one.” You shrug. “Yeah?” He smirks. “You a barracks bunny Y/N?” He asks. “What’s that?” You ask, confused.

He laughs, he just can’t help it. “So innocent..” he mumbles. “It’s a girl who has sex with everyone on base.” He smirks. Your eyes go wide. “Oh.. no. No I’m not.”

“Hey, I’m not judging.” He laughs. “I’m not a… barracks bunny.” Your cheeks are on fire. “I’m just fucking with you darling, relax.” He places his hand on your thigh. “Here. Drink more. Loosen up.” You start to notice the amount of pressure they’re putting on you. “I don’t know. I think I’m done.” You laugh nervously. “Oh come on. Don’t be such a buzz kill.” He rolls his eyes. He convinces you to take another few shots, your face is hot and the heat between your legs is becoming too much to bear. You notice they’re passing around a joint.

When they offer it to you, you shake your head. “I don’t really think we should be doing this.” You breathe, going to stand up. You find it’s pretty hard to move. “All is good here. It’s my base after all.” Captain Price reassures you. You’re so close to where they need you.

After about an hour of passing around the joint, convincing you to take more and more shots of liquor. You’re ready.

“You ever met a barracks bunny before?” Soap asks. You shrug. “Heard rumors.” You giggle. “Yeah. Must be pretty fun I imagine. I mean.. getting to fuck that much in one day.” He smiles, tipping back a shot. “You ever fucked more than one person in a day Y/N?” He asks. You shake your head shyly. “No.. I’ve never had sex.” You mumble. “Why not?” He asks. “Religious?” He smirks. “Oh no.. it’s nothing to do with that. Just.. never crossed paths with the right person.” You shrug. “I was always bullied for being ugly in school too so..” you laugh. “Really?” Gaz gathers your attention. You nod your head. “Jesus.. that’s fucked up. And not true, you’re stunning.” He smiles, resting his hand on your thigh. “Oh.. thank you.” You smile. “Yeah, I’d fuck you.”

Your cheeks burn and you avoid his gaze. “Yeah I’d fuck you too.” Soap winks. You laugh, looking away from them. “Maybe you should let us.” Gaz lifts your chin to make you look at him. “W-what?” You ask. “Yeah. Maybe you could be our little barracks bunny hm?” He smiles. “I… I don’t know about that.” You breathe. “Oh come on.. we’ll take good care of you sweetheart. Nothing to worry about.” He moves himself closer to you. “I just.. I don’t know. I thought maybe I’d start slow for my first time.”

“We can start slow. Come on.” He tilts his head. You take in a deep breath as he takes your hand, helping you up. “Gaz.. I’m really not sure about this.” You swallow hard, your words are unstable and you’re unsteady on your feet as he lifts you up onto the wooden table. “Hey. Just relax alright?” He brushes your hair back behind your ear. You’re so far gone you can barely think straight. “Nothing to worry about. We’ll be real gentle with you.” He pushes you back by your chest gently. You’re tense as he reaches for the waistband of your pants. You can’t help but like the attention you’re getting from them. Maybe it’s the weed or liquor. Your blood feels hot in your veins, body warm and fuzzy as they surround you. “Fuck.. look at you.” Ghost mumbles. Running his fingers down your chest. You look up at him, the sweet look in your eyes has his stomach curling. It’s almost as if you have no idea what they’re about to do to you. The filthy things running through their heads, about to play out like a film.

“So pretty. Such a good girl.” Ghost mumbles. You close your eyes, biting your lip lightly as you relax into the table. He grasps the hem of your shirt, pulling it up and over your head.

You’ll be the perfect bunny after this.

Gaz has your panties at your ankles and they’re drooling, like a pack of wild dogs. “Captain. She was your idea, get in here.” Gaz nods at his Captain.

John smiles, moving between Soap and Gaz. He moves himself up until his clothed crotch is pressed up against your bare pussy. He sighs. Running his hand over your chin. “You are pure sin my darling. So fucking pretty.” He breathes. He slides a finger into your mouth and you take it, sucking gently at it. He groans out. He pulls away from you, Unzipping his pants just enough to where he can free his cock. "Are you ready darling?" He asks. His cock is standing at attention. The tip is blushing red. Begging for release. He's huge. You don't know how he's supposed to fit. You're looking up at him, he can tell you're nervous. "It's alright. Relax for me okay?" You nod your head, resting on your arms.

Not only are you about to give your virginity to your captain, but your entire task force is watching. Waiting to be next up. A whimper leaves your lips when he glides his tip up through your folds. You’re dizzy, everything feels fuzzy.

Your reaction speed is off, only feeling the tightness from his cock after he’s already buried himself inside of you. You shift uncomfortably, whimpering and trying to slide your hips away from him. “Hey. You’ll get used to me. Calm down.” He soothes. He holds your hips steady. Another whine leaves your lips, tears filling up your eyes. Ghost is quick to soothe you, helping you lay back on the table. Soap is running his fingertips over your stomach, soothing your skin. Ghost cups your face, his warm breath on your face distracts you from the tearing you feel from your Captains massive cock. You weren’t ready but you would be. “Shhh. S’alright. Should start to feel good soon.” Ghost mumbles, kissing your tears away.

They’re evil. Devils standing around you, waiting to devour you whole. They’d had this planned from the start. They planned it all out. What they’d do to you, how they’d get you to give into them.

You’re starting to pant, your legs are numb but you can feel the pleasure of him sliding into your pussy. “Cmon, prop yourself up.” Ghost helps you. “Watch him. Watch him fuck your pussy.” You gasp out, clutching at the sides of the table as you see it. He’s slid his shirt up over his hips, and you can get a good look at the way he slides into you. Hands gripping at your hips. It’s intense. You tilt your head back, moaning out. Your brain is a blur, all you can think about is how good he feels. You wince when you feel something building, pushing your hips into him more. “F-feels weird.” You whimper. “S’alright. Just get used to it.” You whimper, holding yourself steady so that he can get the perfect angle. “Feels.. it feels- ah!” You cry out.

You soak your Captain’s jeans, and his eyes are wide.

You’re panting, pulling away from him. “I.. I’m sorry.” You whimper. He grasps your thighs, pulling you back down. “Fuck.. didn’t know you could do that.” He breathes.

Their eyes are blown wide with lust, cocks throbbing behind cargo pants and jeans. They all want a piece of you. They all want to make you squirt on them.

“Didn’t take long to make her do that Cap.” Gaz laughs. “Course not. I know exactly what girls like her like.” He smiles. You’re looking up at him, a look in your eyes they haven’t seen yet. Your chest is rising and falling with every deep breath you take. “Did you like that baby?” He asks. You nod your head lazily. He smiles, sliding himself back inside of you. Seeing your eyes close. You tilt your head back, moaning out at the way he fills you up. Eyes are burning into you, the tension in the room is thick. John is not as gentle as he was to start, thrusting into you with more force than before. It was clear you were going to be a wreck when they were finished with you. He’s got a tight grip on your thighs, head tilted back as you wrap so tight around him. “Fuck.. so fucking tight-“ he hisses. “Not going to last long with you darling.” He chuckles. You’re gripping the table hard, knuckles turning white. He lifts your legs up onto his shoulders and you cry out as he bottoms out, your lower stomach cramps up slightly from the new angle. “Ah- fuck!” He growls. He pulls out of you, pumping his cock fast with his hand. He pushes your legs apart slightly, finishing on your stomach with a groan. You tilt your head back, panting out. “Did so good.” Ghost mumbles, brushing your hair out of your face.

“Sit up.” He breathes. He helps you adjust yourself. You’re propped up on your hands and knees. Feet hooking over the edge of the table, ass on display for them all to see. “W-what now?” You breathe. “Just going to get you ready darling. Calm down.” He rests his gloved hand onto your back. He’s trying to soothe you. You hear what sounds like a cap clicking shut, turning to see Ghost putting lube on his aching cock. He’s massive.

Thank god your Captain stretched you a little bit.

“Cmere.” Ghost pulls you back into him. Pushing your back down until you’re low enough to be lined up with his cock. You feel him nudging at your ass, jumping away from him. Your reaction time is slow. “I- woah. I don’t think I’m ready for that-“ you breathe. “It’s okay.” He grasps your hips again, pulling you back. “Be a good girl and be still.”

“Ghost I-“

“Simon.” He growls. “Simon I don’t think I’m ready.” You whimper. “Relax. I won’t hurt you.” He breathes.

You suck in a sharp breath, feeling his bare fingers circling your tight hole, nudging into you deeper with each pump. At least he’d ditched his glove. You flinch away from his touch as he seeps deeper into you. You take in a deep breath. “S’alright. Doing so good lass.” Soap moves next to Simon, circling his fingers over your clit at an attempt to make you relax. It works and you relax into Johnny’s touch, body relaxing slightly. You make it easier on Simon as you relax, his fingers sliding easier into you. The feeling is foreign. It doesn’t hurt and it’s not bad. You relax into him more. Johnny keeps rubbing gentle circles over your clit. You’re a mess already.

You feel Simon’s cock nudging at your entrance and you’re nervous. He’s much bigger than his fingers. A whine leaves your lips when he pushes into you, cock burrowing deeper into your ass. The feeling is too much. You lean forward away from his aching cock, but he follows you with his hips, reaching forward to stop you and hold you still. “Relax into me.” He breathes. “Keep rubbing her clit Johnny.” He spits on the base of his cock, working himself deeper. Johnny does, keeps rubbing gentle circles into your clit so that you’ll relax more. You let out a mewl, the sensation was too much. “Halfway there darling. Just.. a little more.” He breathes. You’re clutching the table, whimpering with each small circle Johnny runs over your entrance. It’s so good. They’re pushing you so much. When your ass finally presses against Simon’s front, he groans out. You’ve taken him all of the way.

You whimper, moving your hips forward and back into his cock. “Oh fuck baby. You want it that bad huh?” He smirks. “Don’t worry. Me n Johnny are gonna fill you up real nice.” He breathes. You can’t say anything, your vision is blurry and you’ve got tears in your eyes but all you know is that whatever this is, it feels amazing. Simon lifts you up off of the table, Johnny moving to your front and grasping hold of you by your thighs. Sliding his cock into your pussy. You straddle Johnny and Simon still had his cock buried inside your ass.

You tilt your head back with a cry, so completely full of them.

Your eyes roll back when they slide out of you, starting to thrust themselves back into you. You’re a mess, can barely stay quiet as they fuck you. “Fuck.. you’re so tight.” Johnny growls. “Been waiting fucking months for this sweet pussy.” He chuckles, teeth gritted. “How does it feel hm?” He mumbles, lips right by your ear. “Went from a body count of 0 to 3 in just a few minutes Hm?” He taunts.

You’re sobbing. Hands are clutching Johnny’s shoulders and your body is shaking. You’ve absolutely soaked them both in your cum, unsure of where you even are anymore. You probably can’t even say your own name at this point. Everything is blurry and fuzzy, you can’t move your body anymore. They’re holding you exactly where they want you. You wrap your arms around Johnny’s neck, laying your head on his shoulder. “Can’t be done yet sweetheart.” He chuckles. “Gaz hasn’t had a go at you yet. You don’t want him to be deprived so you?”

You shake your head, looking over his shoulder at Gaz. He’s pumping his cock, you lock eyes with him. You lick your lips and he nearly cums right there. “Ah- getting tired.” Soap complains. “Here.” Ghost grabs hold of you. Johnny slides out of you and you whimper. “Relax.” Ghost smirks. He lays you onto the table, pushing your face into the cool wood. His hips are hammering against yours, thrusts getting sloppy. He’s close. “Oh yes- fuck I love fucking this tight ass of yours. So fucking good.” He growls. His hand slapping against your ass makes you want to jump forward but you can’t. A whimper leaves your lips, tightening down around Ghost. “Oh fuck- I’m going to cum.” He pants. “Fuck- oh fuck!” He gasps. His hips halt and you gasp, the foreign feeling of something flooding inside of you. You finally raise your head to look at him. His hands resting on your hips. Cock nestled inside of your ass.

He slides out of you, watching his filth spill back out of your hole. He smiles at the work he’d done. Soap is quick to flip you over, burying his cock back inside of you. “Just one more. And than you’re going to treat Kyle very well darling.” He smirks. You nod your head lazily. Johnny pinches your nipples, smiling at the way you cry out. “Fuckin tight pussy baby. Give me one more hm?” He smiles. He rubs circles over your clit with his thumb. A whine leaves your lips and you try to wiggle your hips away from him but he holds you still. You can feel another orgasm building. Right on the edge. You push his hand away from you, running circles over your own clit. You’re going quickly. “Yeah that’s a good girl.” He grips your hips, pounding into you. “You rub that little clit for me. Nice n fucking wet for my cock.” He tilts his head back, swallowing hard. His skin is sweaty and red and he’s right on the edge. Your moans are getting louder and more frequent. Your hand is moving quickly as you rub your clit. “Fuck yes!” He growls. Your eyes roll back, body lurching as you cum again. Soaking him completely. He holds you steady until you’re worn out, sliding out of you and finishing right on your stomach, just like his captain had.

He’s panting, and your eyes are droopy.

“You can’t sleep yet.” Soap tries to shake you awake. “It’s fine. I’ll get it out of her one way or another.” Gaz laughs. Soap nods his head.

“I’ll take her to her room, get her cleaned up.”

Gaz made sure to do a good job. You were already undressed so running a bath for you and using a small towel to clean your skin was easy. Washing your hair was a bit harder. You were out cold. He redressed you in one of his shirts, helping you into bed.

When the light just began to show through your window, he knew it was his turn.

You’re still out cold but he knew this would wake you.

His face buried between your thighs, tongue lapping at your entrance. Sucking your clit and flicking his tongue over your clit. You’re stirring in your sleep, moaning. Your eyes open and you’re still dazed, but you know whatever you’re feeling is amazing. You push your blanket back, whining out at the sight of him between your thighs. “Gaz?” You whimper. He draws himself away from you. “You still owe me princess.” He breathes, returning to devour you. “What do you want me to do?” You whine. Your pussy is sore, but he’s soothing you. “M’gonna fuck this pussy. Nice n slow.” He pulls away for a second, sucking your clit between his lips and drawing away from you. “Show you who you belong to.” He breathes. You nod your head. He sits up, his cock is throbbing hard.

He pushes his sweatpants down his legs, pumping his hard cock as he lines himself up with your entrance. “Actually..” he mumbles. Pulling away. “Why don’t you show me what you’ve gone hm? Get up.” You listen, standing up. He lays down. “Get up here. I’ll help you.” He mumbles. You nod your head, straddling his hips and sinking down onto his cock. Your thighs shiver at the size of him, a mewl leaving your lips. “Ah- too much.” You whimper. “You’ll get used to it. Ride my cock baby.” You nod your head, rocking your hips into him. You rest your hands on his chest, raising your hips off of him. He circles your clit with his fingers, he needs to cum soon. He’s been waiting all night for this, he’s not going to last long.

You’re rocking into him faster, moaning out. You’re enjoying yourself and that’s exactly what he wants. “Who do you belong to darling? Who’s barracks bunny are you?” He smirks. “Y-yours-“ you whimper. A sharp slap to your ass has you whimpering. “Wrong, who do you belong to? Who’s barracks bunny are you?”

“141.” You whine. “Hm? I didn’t hear you.” He breathes. “Task Force 141, I’m task force 141’s barracks bunny!” You cry. Your hips halt as you soak him, and he cries out, pushing your hips off of him as he finishes. “Shit!” He growls. Pumping his cock quickly, costing your ass in his cum.

You relax into him, panting.

He once again helps you clean up, but leaves you alone this time. You needed to rest.

While you were on base with them, you were always going to keep them busy.

#call of duty mw2 #soap mw2 #cod mw2 #ghost mw2 #captain john price #price mw2 #alejandro mw2 #captain price #johnny soap mactavish #mw2 smut

[bumblebeesfromvenus]

Deck the Halls 🎻

Bale!Bruce Wayne x Wife!reader

A/N: This is the ultimate crossover, Bale!Bruce and Christmas, what more could you want??? I don't know quite how I feel about it mainly because I wrote most of it at 3 am lmao. Love-hate relationship, I guess. I hope you like it, anyway!

~Fi 🐝

Fi's Christmas Market ☃️

Warnings: implied angst?? Mention of his parents' death (very briefly), so much fluff omg, starring Alfred, Selina, and Lucius, Bruce is obsessed with you <3

Word count: 3.6k

Please don't copy my work! I put a lot of effort and heart into the things I write.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫

"A Gingerbread house contest?"

Bruce gave you a skeptical look as you explained your idea for the annual Wayne Yule Ball. You were sitting at the meeting table in the office of Wayne Enterprises, brain storming ideas to make this years Gala a little more interesting. The events were always quite boring, the only thing keeping your spirits up was the bar most of the time.

You'd occasionally hang around on the side lines with Alfred, people-watching Gothams wealth. This year had to be different. You were sick and tired of the fad and dragging evenings.

This was the Yule Ball, after all. The Manor would be decked in lights and ornaments, the lovely tunes of Christmas would echo through the halls and you'd actually have some fun for once.

Bruce would try to make them more bearable for you, inviting you to dance as much as he could, even if it earned him detesting looks. He wasn't a huge fan either, but it was his duty. He'd rather be curled up with you, feeling your warmth against his skin while doing your favorite festive activities.

Selina was seated next to you, twirling a pen between her fingers, looking like she was about to collapse from boredom. Alfred sat next to Bruce with a notepad, writing down any ideas that had come forth. Lucius was there too, of course, hoping to aid in any technical things.

"Yeah, why not? We need to do something interesting this year, and a making Gingerbread houses is a pretty classic activity, no?" You responded, shrugging slightly.

"I'll definitely come to the Ball if you pull through with that." Selina smirked. Bruce sighed, rubbing a hand over his face.

"Are you sure this is a good idea, honey? I mean, most of the people that attend aren't really ones to get their hands dirty."

"If I may, Master Bruce, I think it's a great idea." Alfred interrupted politely, making you smile. "I think it's important for the rich of Gotham to not lose touch with the average life. And, it'd be quite sweet, wouldn't it?"

Alfred grinned, proud of the pun he just made. You let put a small giggle while Selina and Lucius were smiling slightly. Bruce, on the other hand, sighed as his brows pulled together.

"Alright, so if we do this, who's going to be the judge?" He asked, finally caving in to your request.

"I knew you'd come around," you smiled, watching as a smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth, "I think it's pretty obvious. Alfred should judge the houses."

"Me? Miss, I'm flattered but I don't think I have the expertise to-"

"Nonesense, Alfie," Selina cut him off, "We've all seen what you can do in the kitchen. If anyone's going to judge anything, it should be you."

"I agree. He does make a mean Victoria Sponge." Luscius agreed, his reasoning strong enough to make Alfred ponder for a moment.

"It doesn't just have to be houses. We can just give them creative freedom, let them go at it." You suggested, earning nods of approval.

"I can't believe I'm about to say this," Selina mumbled, inhaling a sharp breath,"What if we make it a family event? Let them bring their kids. They'd probably be more open to the whole idea that way."

"Good thinking, Miss Kyle."

Bruce chewed on his lips as he thought. This would be very different than most years. His parents had started the tradition of a yearly Yule Ball, and he was afraid to make changes. But then he thought back to how his parents always tried to keep a somewhat humble life to be able to help the people in need more efficiently. Also, he could never say no to you.

"Okay. Why not. Even if they don't enjoy it, at least we'll have a good time." He smiled softly, looking at you. You almost beamed with excitment.

"We need a price too, right? What's the point of a contest without a price." Selina intervened. A silence fell over the room as everyone was thinking of what the price coule be.

"I say we give the winner an hour with Bruce's credit card and see how much damage they can do." You snorted, meaning it as a joke but when you weren't met with disagreement a surpirsed expression took over your face.

"Fine by me." Bruce shrugged. You forgot that he was a billionaire sometimes.

"Well, I wasn't expecting that but that just upped my determination by 100%." Selina grinned, making Bruce roll his eyes.

Bruce started talking to Lucius about the organizational aspects while you discreetly high fived Selina under the table. You'd talked about this idea before, your friend mostly finding it funny that the most esteemed people of Gotham would have to struggle with sprinkles and sticky icing.

She was quite impressed you pulled through, although that Bruce agreed wasn't a surprise to her. He'd do about anything you asked, which she sometimes used to her advantage.

"You truly have him wrapped around your finger, huh?" Selina mused, sending a sly smirk your way. You leaned back in your chair, inspecting the shimmering wedding band on your hand.

"Well, he wouldn't have put a ring on it if I hadn't." You grinned, making Selina shake her head with a chuckle.

"When do I need to be there to see Gotham get down and dirty?"

"December 25th, 8:00 pm, Wayne Manor."

"See ya then." The brunette gave you one last grin before taking her leave, claiming she had some 'business' to attend to. The so called 'business' would surely end up on the front page of the Gotham Gazette tomorrow morning. She was a great friend despite her passion for her illegal hobby. You couldn't really blame her, though. She'd grown up with nothing, and had to fight to survive.

You were the last one to complain if one of Gothams renowned business men mysteriously lost a couple of million dollars, which then appeared donated to a charity the next day. She'd never steal from you, or Bruce.

That's not to say she hadn't tried, but Selina did find that Martha's necklace suited you just a tad better than her. She had quite the soft spot for you, you weren't like the rest of the wealthy people she knew. You were honest, understanding and kind. Selina put a great amount of trust in you and she knew you'd never break it. If that meant having to put up with Bruce once in a while, so be it.

Alfred slipped into the seat next to you, Bruce and Luscius still discussing the guest list, when to send the invites, and to order all the necessary things for the contest.

"Truly a marvelous idea, Mrs. Wayne. He never dared to make any changes before you came along, you know?"

You turned you head towards him, a slight blush on your cheeks. Did you really have that much of an impact on him? To think that you were the one that made the Bruce Wayne soften and be more open to change made your heart swell with pride.

"Really? I thought he just never cared that much. For the Ball, I mean." You said, intrigued of what you were about to learn from Alfred about your beloved Husband.

"No, no, not at all. It was his favorite thing as a boy. What I'd do to see him happy like that again." The older man sighed, a melancholic tint in his eyes.

You smiled at the thought of Bruce being excited for Christmas. Just being a boy. You reckoned all of that changed after his parents' death. The warm and loving holiday was now left in gray dullness and the emptiness that he felt in his heart when he'd sit under the tree, all alone, yearning for a hug from his father and the gentle touch of his mothers lips on his cheek.

You were determined to fill that void, shower him in all your love until the gaping hole in his chest was fixed. Who knew if it was possible, but you were willing to give it your all.

"You will, I promise." You replied softly, gently placing your hand on his arm. Alfred gave you an appreciative smile, the sadness in his eyes wavering slightly. He softly padded your hand, resting it on it for a moment.

"You make him so happy already, though. I suppose I can't complain too much, can I?" He joked, making you laugh softly.

"I'm just loving him, that's all."

"That's all he needed." Alfred smiled softly.

Bruce glanced over to you, his heart pouding with pure love as he saw you laughing with Alfred. His two favorite people were getting along so well, it made unbridled joy bloom in his chest. You had changed his life, only for the better, you made him feel like a person again.

For years he'd been aimlessly wandering, hoping to find himself. He was lost in the dark, going through life pretending to be someone he wasn't. Or was he? He didn't know. But you were his guiding light, your gentle flicker lighting up his path. Your soft warmth getting him through many a cold night when the thoughts of self doubt and fear were gnawing at him.

All he needed was you pressed against his chest, your soft breathing like a sweet lullaby to him as you slept peacefully in his arms.

"Mister Wayne? Mister Wayne-" Lucius voice broke him out of his daydream, his back straightend and he cleared his throat, hoping no one caught him. You were still chatting on with Alfred, so you hadn't noticed, good. But when he looked over to Lucius, there was a knowing smirk on the man's face.

"Yes, Mr. Fox? Do you have the guest list ready?" Bruce questioned, fiddling with his fingers. He looked at Lucius expectantly, trying to hide his slight embarrassment.

"I don't blame you for staring. She fills the role of Mrs. Wayne perfectly." He answered, a gentle smile on his face. Bruce's shoulders immediately dropped, the tension fading away. He let out a small huff through his nose with a tight lipped smile.

"She does, doesn't she? It's like she was made for this. Made for me." He said quietly, the adoring look in his eyes as he admired you not being missed by the Inventor. Lucius placed a hand on his shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

"Why don't you spend the day together? I'll take care of everything." He said reassuringly.

Bruce's eyes widened slightly and he turned to face Lucius.

"Lucius-"

"No, I won't hear it. Go on, spend the day with her." He gave him chuckle before patting his back and gathering his things.

"We're done here, Mrs. Wayne. You can have your husband back." Lucius laughed, packing up the last of his documents. You giggled, which immediately set Bruce's heart aflame.

"How gracious of you, Mr. Fox." You teased, getting out of your chair, Alfred by your side.

"Let's go, my love. We have Christmas movies to watch and a dog to cuddle." You chirped, dragging him out of his chair.

All he could do was smile as he let himself be taken by you and wonder how he got this damn lucky.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

You were now curled up on the couch, Bruce by your side, his arm draped around you. Your dog, Rudy, was snoozing on your lap as you scratched his head. The extra weight and warmth of your pup made it hard to keep your eyes open.

You were resting comfortably against Bruce, who traced gentle patterns on your arm as he was tentatively watching the TV. A smile tugged at your lips at Bruce's soft breaths, his strong chest falling and rising, lulling you to sleep. Your smile was cut off by a yawn. You lifted your hand from Rudy's head to cover your mouth, but he let out a whine, immediately nudging at your hand.

You chuckled groggily, trying to keep the sleep at bay so you could enjoy your moment with Bruce.

"'M sorry, buddy." You cooed, going back to petting your fur baby.

"You're tired, honey, I'll take over. Go to sleep." Bruce said softly in your ear, gently moving your hand and replacing it with his, making Rudy's tail wag slightly.

"S'your fault for being so warm and comfy and- you." You mumbled, letting your head fall against his shoulder.

"I mean, I can stop." He teased, taking his arm away from around you. You caught his wrist in a surprisingly tight grip.

"Do it and see what happens." You slurred, eyes still closed. Even in your sleepy state, you were still your feisty little self.

"Alright, I'd like to keep my arm, please." He laughed, wrapping his arm around you again, just a little tighter this time. You nuzzled closer to his side, making Rudy begrudgingly adjust his position as well.

"Are you excited for the Yule Ball?" You asked quietly, looking up at your husband as best as you could with sleep tugging at your limbs.

"I am. For the first time in a while, actually. Thanks to you." He replied with a soft smile, placing a chaste kiss on the tip of your nose. A lopsided smile crept onto your face, and you stretched your neck a bit to press a sweet kiss to his lips.

"I love you." You mumbled before finally dozing off with a smile on your face.

"I love you too, honey." Bruce whispered gently, his lips pressed to the top of your head as he sunk into the couch.

He couldn't wait for the Ball. Something he loved so dearly that was tainted for him for many years was now coming back to him brighter than ever. All thanks to you, the lovely woman he chose to marry.

He'd marry you anew every single day if he could.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

The day had finally come, and you were a nervous wreck. You really didn't want to mess this up. You had big shoes to fill; Martha Wayne was loved by Gotham, and now that you held the title of Mrs. Wayne, you didn't want to disappoint anyone.

Not the people of Gotham, not Martha, but most importantly, not him. You'd been running around like a headless chicken the entire day, double checking everything so nothing could go wrong.

The decorations were being set up, and you might've snapped at a poor worker for hanging one of the garlands a little too much to the right. You were stressed out of your mind, regretting ever suggesting this. Right now, you were checking if all the sheets of Gingerbread had arrived and if all the decorations were set up.

The gentle touch of Bruce's hand on your shoulder snapped you out of the frenzy in your head. He guided you to a quiet corner with a hand on the small of your back.

"Bruce, I have to get back to-"

He interrupted you with a firm kiss, cupping your cheeks.

"No. You're completely stressing yourself out, and we can't have that. I'll take care of everything. And now you need to take care of yourself. Take a bath, get ready, do whatever you need to do. Please, calm down. Everything will be perfect, I promise." He said it so softly you could feel all the anxiety and stress fall away.

You let out a deep breath as you leaned into his touch.

"Okay. Thank you." You sighed with a small smile.

"Good. You know very well that tiring you out is my job." He said lowly with a glint in his eyes. You huffed and playfully hit his arm.

"Go check on the sprinkles."

"Yes, Ma'am."

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

You did as he said, you took a bath to ease the tension in your muscles that had been building up throughout the day.

Now, you were sitting at your vanity, adding some final touches to your make-up. The guest would arrive soon, and you were glad the excitement took over the anxiety.

Bruce walked into your shared bedroom, fixing his cuffs.

"Are you almost ready?" He asked, not looking at you, still fiddling with his suit. You responded with a small 'Mhm!' and walked over to him, brushing some wrinkles out of your gown. When he did look at you, he visibly stopped in his tracks.

You were wearing a green velvet gown with lace accents, and he was completely enarmoured. When his gaze trailed upwards, he caught sight of his mothers necklace sitting around your neck. If you weren't already married, he'd would've proposed right now.

"You look stunning." He breathed out, hie pupils dilated. You chuckled softly, brushing your hand over the lapel of his jacket.

"Thank you. You look quite handsome yourself." You teased, earning a small smirk from him. His hands settled in your waist. Bruce hastily pulled you in for a passionate kiss.

The air was knocked from your lungs as his lips moved so perfectly against yours. You melted into his touch but caught yourself before you'd do something that'd make you two very late.

"Alright," you breathed heavily, steadying your hands on his chest, "that's enough, Lover boy. We have a Ball to host."

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

All the guests had arrived and Bruce stepped into the center of the room, beginning his welcoming speech.

"Welcome, Everyone, I'm very glad you could join us here today for the annual Wayne Yule Ball. This is a tradition that my parents started that I wish to keep on as long as I can."

"This year will be a little different. Courtesy of my lovely wife, Mrs. Wayne," he looked in your direction and reached out his hand for you to take with a gentle smile, which you did without hesitation,"there will be a gingerbread house contest. I see you've brought your little ones and I hope that this will be a pleasant and memorable evening for us all." He ended his speech with a soft smile.

"Feel free to take as much times as you desire. Everything you need is provided, so all you need now is your imagination and creativity." You spoke up.

"Your delicious creations will be judged and the winner gets a nice reward. I hope you have a lovely time and a Merry Christmas!"

There was a small round of applause before old and young scrambled towards the tables decked with gingerbread, sprinkles and icing, to begin their gingerbread builds. You participated too, you'd teamed up with Selina, who had been nursing a flute of champagne until now.

Bruce and Lucius decided to indulge as well, already planning out their engineered masterpiece.

"Let's show 'em our claws." Selina smiled slyly. The lights made her dark blue dress embroidered with sparkling stars stand out. She looked very good this evening.

And Bruce might've paid for that dress... unknowingly.

"You got it, kitty." You replied with a smirk.

You were going the classic route. It would be a house, but more of a whimsical cottage type. Vines if icing were woven around the gingerbread walls, blooming into blankets of Ivy. The roof would be decked in sweet snow and delicate sugar flowers.

Selina couldn't help but add a tiny cat hidden at the back of the house. The atmosphere was delightful, laughter and chatter whisked through the room accompanied by the tunes of Christmas songs.

The decorations that adorned the walls and ceilings of the Manor dipped the room in a warm glow. You decided to glance over at Bruce and Lucius, to see what they'd come up with. When your gaze met their creation the piping bag of icing slipped from your hands and your jaw slacked.

"They built the goddamn batmobile." You said in disbelief, making your partner perk up.

She scoffed and went back to, now aggressively, pushing small sugar decorations into the icing.

"Show offs." Selina grumbled.

Bruce noticed your staring and shot you a toothy grin.

"A sweet ride, don't you think?"

You groaned at his terrible joke and shook your head.

"Unbelievable." You muttered, going back to perfecting your little house.

The chattered had died down as the judging began. Everyone watched in anticipation as Alfred made his way through room, inspecting each Gingerbread sculpture carefully. He made some small comments here and there, mainly on the ones the children had made.

In the end, a little girl and her sister won- they'd built, or at least tried to, a castle. Alfred thought it was very charming, and it reminded him of home, so naturally, he picked them as winners. They were overjoyed, jumping around excitedly, gushing it about it to their parents.

The girls earned a round of applause, and an arm slipped around your waist.

"A shame we didn't win." Bruce sighed playfully.

"I can't believe you built the batmobile. I expected a lot, but not that." You laughed, the lights reflecting off of you perfectly. Or at least that's what Bruce thought.

"But it was fun, don't you think? Thank you, again, for agreeing." You said softly. Bruce smiled at you, and gentle squeezed at your side.

"Anything for you. I can't wait to see what you come up with next year." He kissed your cheek, pulling you closer as you watched the joy and holiday cheer fill the room.

He truly couldn't wait for next year, to deck the halls with you by his side.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫

It didn't turn out as Christmas-y as I wanted it to, but I hope you enjoyed reading it nonetheless! <3

#bumblebeesfromvenus #FI'S CHRISTMAS MARKET ☆ #bale!bruce x reader #bale!bruce wayne #bale!bruce wayne x reader #bale!batman x reader #christian bale #bruce wayne x reader #batman x reader

[yxami]

Aaaaa I’ve been having too many ideas for nsfw stuff, I didn’t mean to write so much with this one but oh well

Imagine you’re at a party with your best friend, he’s always been there through thick and thin, maybe you do have feelings for him but you’ve never once spoken up about them or even hinted at it other than a few goofy smiles on your face every-time he complimented on how you looked.

It’s impossible to even try to speak up! Especially with his bitchy girlfriend who seemed to have it out for you since day one, even though you’ve never given her any reason to worry.

That’s why you tried distancing yourself, well, tried to.

Here he was, bringing you to a party and insisting the two of you had to go and hang! You haven’t accepted any of his offers in weeks..! He was practically dying to just pop up in your house and force a hangout. The two of you were always so close after all!

So you caved, following him around in a party, it wasn’t even your environment but you decided that you weren’t going to be grumpy. You shouldn’t have completely shut him out anyways.

You held onto his hand as he led you through the busy crowds of young adults, many with red cups that must be containing strong alcohol, that would be the only reason why so many pairs of strangers were shamelessly making out.

He took you to an empty room, wanting privacy to have a chat even though a house party was hardly appropriate for a serious conversation. He just wanted to see if you were doing okay before getting drunk.

“So? Why have you been ignoring my calls and texts?” He pouted, closing and locking the door, you were glad the house had many rooms to hide in but now this didn’t seem like a thing to be glad about.

“cause.. y’know?” You looked up at him as you sat on the bed, hoping he wouldn’t make you verbally say it, his disapproving look just made you mirror his slight frown before sighing. “Cause, your girlfriend. She doesn’t like me y’know? I dunno why..” You declared your innocence.

Even though your guilty conscious told you that she had reason even if she had no proof or sights of it. You liked him. You had a big fat crush on him.

“What? Is she being a bitch to you? I’ll break up with her if she is” He let out a sigh of relief, he thought he did something majorly wrong, he was glad that it wasn’t something bad. He could get rid of his girlfriend in the matter of seconds if you so asked.

Only reason he got with her was because he needed to distract himself from his growing obsession with you. It was to the point where he wanted to be with you, every moment in each day. He couldn’t get enough of the time the two of you spent together. He became greedier and greedier with each week passing.

It started around 2 years ago and it was probably unhealthy, but he couldn’t stop himself so he decided on distracting himself instead of addressing his feelings.

“Nono, you don’t have to do that. I don’t want to get in-between the two of you” You had a worried look on your face, you didn’t want him to ruin his happiness just for yours. He was a devoted best-friend but to do that to himself and his relationship was being too loyal.

His blissful personality and morals was probably what made you like him so much in the first place.

“You’re not getting in between anything, honestly she’s been such a jealous bitch with everybody, I should’ve known she would try something with you” His fists clenched then relaxed, leaning in to reach for your face.

“I really care about you..” He held the side of your face, speaking like a lovesick boyfriend, it caused your face to heat up, he obviously didn’t mean it that way! Stop blushing stop blushing! Please stop!

He smiled when he saw how flustered you looked, finding some amusement out of such a serious talk.

“Why are you so red? Are you gonna finally confess your feelings for me?” He giggled, his teasing tone dancing around like nothing mattered other than you.

“Shut up!” You practically whined out.

“I just.. didn’t expect you to say that” You pushed his face from being so close to yours, turning to deflect the increasing tension. You really didn’t predict him to catch you off guard enough to tease even further.

“Awe, cmon lemme see that face of yours” He cooed, leaning towards you to see how you looked. You slightly pushed him with a playful laugh escaping your lips but he was determined to see the beautiful look on your face. The two of you pushed and pulled until a slip of the arm cause you to fall back with him on top of you.

Your chest rose up quickly and then slowly back down. He almost mimicked your quick breathing. He grinned at how you looked under him, needing no words to fluster you any further.

“Stop teasing me so much, you know it works everytime” You mumbled, looking away. He softly turned your face to view his, practically begging with his eyes for something you knew you wanted as well.

The way your eyes darted to scan his face before closing your eyes and pulling him towards you only excited him to greater lengths. He cupped the side of your face while he pushed his lips against yours, the heat between the two of you growing more and more.

Until the two of you gasped for air between each deep kiss shared. He put you in his lap, sitting on the edge of the bed. You leaned towards him, working your tongue inside of his mouth as he did to yours. His arm sneaked around your waist, bringing you close when he needed it. You arched with his touch on you, almost instinctively.

As you fumbled with his belt, he stood up, bringing you to the soft carpet as he helped undo his belt, you sat on your heels before shifting your weight on your knees, looking up at him with nervous eyes at his boxers showing his obvious erection.

“You don’t have to if you don’t wanna, I don’t want to do anything you wouldn’t be okay with” He pat your head, soothing the nerves you had, it practically seemed impossible not to. You loved him way too much to stop.

“I want to” You mumbled, feeling a little shy but slid down his boxers to reveal his cock. “I want to do this with you” You clarified, his cock pressing against your cheek as you rubbed it up and down with your hand.

He wanted to melt at the sight of how cute you looked, looking up at him, your puppy dog eyes filled with love and anticipation. He could die happy if he saw this view everyday.

You continued the forward and back movement as you tightened your grip, gaining the courage to lick his tip, he seemed to relish the feeling but the sensitivity made him look away with lustful blush on his face. He covered his heated face with the back of his hand, looking down at you with a shaky smile.

You knocked the breath out of his lungs when you put him inside your mouth, whimpering against the size that almost suffocated you for a second before you relaxed and started sucking him. He felt like his self control was slipping through his hands like sand. There was no way he could survive tonight without fucking you until all you could say was his name, and his only.

“Please don’t make that face” He whimpered out, trying to stop himself from thrusting forward into that sweet warm mouth of yours. “It’s too much, you’re gonna make me lose it” His large veiny hand brushed through the hair on the top of your head.

A muffled giggle escaped your mouth, your lips still wrapped around his cock as you sucked and licked every area you could. Even though it just started he could feel his thighs become jello already. He softly thrusted himself inside, trying to be as gentle as he could with his patience. He's had enough trouble over the years trying to keep himself from obsessing over you like the last drop of water in a desert.

“Fuck I love you, I can’t get enough of you” He groaned under his breath, feeling your throat tighten around his cock, he can’t even imagine the feeling of your hole doing the exact thing but suffocate him even more than now. He could feel himself losing it as your tongue still moved around to lick every spot you could reach.

His grip on your hair tightened, thrusting becoming more insistent. You pressed your hands against his thighs as you tried focusing on taking every inch available. He cooed sweet compliments as you moaned with his cock sliding against your cute little pink tongue.

“You look so pretty, so good, can you feel my dick twitching against your tongue? How I grasp onto your hair while I fuck your mouth. God.. you’re so good” He rambled, trying to praise you while the pleasure overwhelmed him.

He attempted to shove his cock as deep as possible, letting you salivate over the feeling of him using your mouth until his cock trembled for the last time against your tongue just to fill your senses of his cum. You could taste it, smell it, feel it. It was addicting how bittersweet it tasted.

You coughed once he slipped out of your mouth, swallowing his seed before he brought you up into his lap, sitting on the soft bed draped with blue sheets.

“You’re amazing baby, I’d do more with you but I don’t want your first time be here. When we get home I’ll fuck you so good you won’t be able to walk tomorrow” He was already hard thinking about all the positions he could put you in.

#yandere #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #male yandere #pls request #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #gn reader #soft yandere #gender neutral reader #taken male yandere #or is he? #yandere x reader #flirty yandere #yandere Drabble #yandere ideas #yandere friend #yandere bsf #bsf yandere #yan bestfriends #yandere oc #yandere ocs #yandere bestfriend #yandere best friend

[dreamchasernina]

So since the fandom has come back to life and there is not enough Kataang content on this app I will start sharing my two cents. Yay.

I want to start off by saying that as the show was airing, I, as a 10 year old, did kinda ship Zutara. Let’s face it, that scene in the catacombs was a turning point for a lot of shippers. But that was before I saw the final season a couple of years later. When I rewatched the show as a whole, as a teenager I was over Zutara, honestly their interaction kind of felt awkward to me, because they were enemies for so long. So I was all for Kataang. Now, that I’ve rewatched it for like a 1000th time, as a 28 year old, I finally see Kataang for the amazing pairing that it is.

Anyway, I’m not here to hate on anyone, you can ship whoever you like, and I love Zuko so you will not see me slandering his character here. Plus I don't feel the need to hate dump on a character to make my ship feel superior (*cough* unlike some Zutara shippers *cough*).

Ok, so. I feel that when people think of Katara, and her part in the show, they remember her as the responsible one in the group, the "mother" of the group, the sensible and caring one. Yes, when Katara’s mother died she had to step in and take the responsibility of the mother in the family, like Sokka says in the Runaway, and that stayed with her throughout the show. But, I hate that that’s the only thing she’s remembered for, because that’s just the result of her trauma. I feel like most people ignore a very crucial part of her character. Yes, she is the responsible in the group, but when she gets a chance to just be a kid, that's what she is.

People forget about the fun loving side of Katara. The one that goes penguin sledding and remembers how she hasn’t done it in a long time because life hasn’t allowed her to. The side of Katara that gets obsessed with Aunt Wu’s prediction because she is just a regular girl who’s fascinated by her love life, and dreams about what her future husband might be like. The girl that tries flying on the glider with Teo. The girl that relaxes on Appa and lets the hippie girl braid her hair, completely forgetting about the next task in their journey. People forget the side of her that dances in a cave, forgetting about the war and just enjoying life. Let’s not ignore that whenever Katara has a chance, she just enjoys being a kid, not just a badasss waterbender travelling with the Avatar.

And when Katara brings that side out, you know who’s right by her side? Aang. He’s not just by her side, he’s the one initiating those little fun moments. Penguin sledding is his idea, he’s the one to remind her that even though she’s been through a lot, and has a lot of responsibilities, she’s still a kid. He’s the one to organize the dance party, in a middle of a war, in the enemy's terrorory, he still finds a way for them just to be kids. And she’s right there with him, dancing. He’s also taking part in her obsession with Aunt Wu, not belittling or making fun of her faith, but taking part in it. Also sitting right next to her in a flower crown and enjoying the music the hippies play.

You cannot ignore that part of Katara, the part that shines when she’s comfortable, the part that just wants to be a regular kid and have fun. And that’s the part that Aang brings out in her. He’s the Avatar, the weight of the world is literally on his shoulders, but he still finds a way to enjoy life and be a kid, even after going through the worst trauma you can imagine. And he’s there to remind her that even if you’ve experienced the worst, you can still find joy in the little things. She literally says in the first episode - Aang brought something we haven’t had in a long time - fun. And that’s what he brings to her, this light, and that’s why she’s so drawn to him.

Isn’t that what we want for Katara, after the war is over? To just let herself be a kid, not to miss out on that part of her life, now that she doesn’t have to worry about their survival? And the best person to bring this joy and childlike wonder back into her life is Aang. And that’s why I think that Aang is truly the best one Katara could have ended up with.

#atla #kataang #avatar: the last airbender #aang #avatar the last airbender #Katara

[bellaxgiornata]

All These Years [Part 14: "Day Late Friend"]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

[You can find the full series summary and masterlist of installments for All These Years here.]

Warnings/tags: 18+ for this series; contains emotional hurt with no comfort until the final installments, angst, pining, friends to lovers, slowburn, and eventually smut

Word Count: 5.6k

a/n: I feel like it goes without saying that this one will probably hurt. There's like a tiny bit of comfort in here, but I think everything else vastly outweighs that. Feedback is always appreciated!

Tag list: @acharliecoxedfan @theetherealbloom @rotscinema @magnumstyles @roseallisonparker @ofmusesandsecrets @readerhead @paracosmic-murdock @v4leoftears @why-always-me-gosh-please @redbircl @keepingitlokiii @yarrystyleeza @mattkinsella @ms-murdockswift @margoo0 @1988-fiend @lockleywife @strangeobsessed @justalittlebitbored @am-3-thyst @buckybarnes-1917 @thora-jane @lionalsowrites @cloudroomblog @prince-tassel @danzer8705 @yourlocalbentspine @harperdoodle @hollandorks

Sitting on the countertop in your kitchen, you were hunched over your phone scrolling through this morning's current news articles. You were exhausted and your entire body ached from having spent last night at Karen’s place sleeping on her couch because your apartment was entirely empty now. 

Most of the furniture you’d had at your apartment had been donated because you did not want to deal with the hassle of moving all of it across the country. It’s not like you couldn’t afford new things with the massive pay increase you were getting with your new position, even if your new LA apartment’s rent was a bit more expensive than your Hell’s Kitchen apartment had been. Though you’d had movers pack up a handful of your items the other day, along with whatever you had packed in boxes that you hadn’t kept in the luggage bag you were going to check with you on the plane when you left. Your things that were being transported across the country via moving truck were supposed to be at your new place by this afternoon. 

Because today was the day. You had a very long flight to LA soon that you were about to catch–a little over a six hour flight to be exact. You’d ordered a car to take you to the airport just a few minutes ago and now all you were doing was waiting, trying to kill time while you ignored the sinking feeling in your gut. You were going to miss New York and the friends you had here–including Matt, even if you were still incredibly pissed at him. But you'd promised yourself repeatedly that you would make this move no matter what because you needed it.

Last night you’d spent the evening at Karen’s, though Foggy had come over for a bit while you’d been there. But you’d made it clear that you wanted neither of them to invite Matt, still not wanting to see him after what had happened at Josie’s. Foggy had tried to convince you otherwise a few times, urging you to tell Matt it was your last night here because he said Matt had been needing to talk with you. Foggy was practically begging you to give Matt a chance to say goodbye, but you just couldn’t do it. After hearing him just days ago talking about the idea of marrying Erica, and then being so cruel to you in return when you’d pointed out how little he’d thought it all out– especially after everything he’d put you through knowing you’d always been in love with him–you felt he didn’t deserve your time. Why put yourself through more heartache for his sake? You weren’t planning to see him ever again anyway. You figured it was time to look out for yourself.

The whole evening you figured Foggy was shooting Matt texts on and off with the way he’d been on his phone. You’d done your best to ignore it, though part of you felt bad for not offering Matt a chance to see you one last time. He’d probably wanted to apologize for his behavior at Josie’s the other night, but what did it matter? You always caved when it came to Matt; you knew you'd ultimately accept whatever apology he gave you. You loved him–sometimes without a care to yourself and your own feelings. 

And that had to change.

With a sigh you opened another news article, your eyes briefly flicking up towards the time on your phone. It felt like time was dragging on this morning. Your ride to the airport was still another fifteen minutes away and you internally cringed. Admittedly you were getting anxious sitting here with nothing to do but wait and sit in your thoughts. 

A series of frantic knocks came from your apartment door, the noise breaking through the silence in your apartment and drawing your attention from your phone. You frowned, turning and looking at your door all the way across the apartment from where you sat in the kitchen. Who would be stopping by your place right now? Unless it was your overly friendly neighbor next door, the elderly Mrs. Meyers. You’d already told her goodbye three times yesterday, but maybe she’d somehow forgotten again. 

Sliding off the counter, you slipped your phone into your jean pocket and made your way over. But the moment you heard Matt’s voice desperately calling your name from the other side of it, you immediately froze on the spot.

What the hell was Matt doing here?

A mix of emotions immediately flooded you–anger, sadness, heartache, guilt. But worst of all of them was that stupid little sliver of hope. You flinched when you heard him call your name through your door again.

"Please," he begged. "I know you're in there. Just let me talk to you. Please. Give me five minutes. Just–just five minutes, please ."

This wasn't exactly the way you wanted to leave New York. That familiar ache was in your chest again and the feel of it hurt . Arms crossing over your chest, you nervously hugged yourself tight as if that would somehow help keep that ache from spreading through the rest of you.

"Matt, I don't want–"

" Please ," he pleaded.

His voice had sounded so small and weak from behind the door, the sound of it causing your eyes to close. Your hands gripped the fabric of your shirt as you fought the urge to cry. Something you'd become all too familiar with when it came to Matt. 

"There's something you need to know," Matt tried again, his voice filled with emotion. "And I don't–don't want to say it to your door."

With a shuddering exhale, you opened your eyes and tried to brace yourself for whatever was about to happen. Crossing the rest of the way to the door, you gradually unlocked it before pulling it open. Matt stepped back instantly, as if he’d been pressed up against it waiting for you. You were surprised to see his glasses were hanging from the collar of his dark green tee-shirt. Matt always wore them around you lately, so it had been jarring to be immediately greeted with the open vulnerability on his face and in his eyes. 

"You have five minutes," you told him, stepping aside and waving him in. 

And really he did, because your car would be here in probably ten minutes.

Matt made his way inside, a pained look on his face as he stepped past you. You grit your teeth together as you shut the door behind him, turning and squaring your shoulders as you faced him. You didn’t know what to expect, but you had a strong feeling whatever it was he needed to tell you was going to leave you in tears.

Matt said your name again, that vulnerable look on his face. "I am so unbelievably sorry about the other night," he began in a rush, emotion heavy in his voice as he spoke. "I shouldn't have spoken to you like that, it was wrong. I was out of line. You had every reason to yell at me like that. I deserved it–I deserve worse . I had–had no idea how much you were hurting and how awful what I’d said really was. It was insensitive and stupid of me and I–"

He abruptly cut off, his brows drawing together in what looked like confusion. Your own face slowly contorted into a look of confusion itself at the words in his apology. How could he not know how much you'd been hurting? He knew you loved him, of course him saying those things had been hurtful, especially considering what he’d told you right before about Erica.

Matt's head snapped to the side and your eyes narrowed as you watched him, his curious movements interrupting your thoughts. You watched as his head darted around a few times, his eyes beginning to water as you saw them scanning your completely empty apartment. 

"No," he whispered, his watery gaze returning to you. "No, don't tell me your things are gone already? You've already packed?"

"I'm moving, Matt," you stated flatly, trying to ignore the way that look on his face was affecting you. "Of course my things are gone."

"When?" he pressed. "Saturday? Sunday?"

You swallowed hard, a lump forming in your throat at the blatant look of panic quickly crossing his features. Why did he look so scared?

"In ten minutes," you answered, tone softening. "I have a car coming to bring me to the airport soon. My flight is at eleven."

Surprise briefly flickered across his face, his dark brows rising up onto his forehead as his lips parted. But then you watched as his face completely crumpled in on itself, tears streaming out of his eyes almost instantly. You stood there in stunned silence, unsure what to make of his reaction. You knew he would be upset about you leaving, but the only time you’d seen Matt cry like this before was when Elektra had broken his heart.

“I’m sorry,” he said, taking a step closer to you. “I thought I had more time. I’m sorry.”

With the sight of Matt standing there and crying before you, you couldn’t fight the tears that had begun to slowly burn in your own eyes. You wiped a hand at them, trying to erase them before they could fall. 

“Foggy said he told you I was leaving,” you pointed out. “You knew I was leaving, Matt. That I had taken a new position and was moving.”

He nodded solemnly, sniffling hard. “He did, but he never told me the day. Just told me I had to see you this morning. And now I–”

You watched in utter confusion as Matt’s sentence broke off right in the middle, his hands coming up as he rubbed the heels of them against his eyes. What sort of a goodbye apology was this? 

“I was wrong all this time,” Matt began, his hands still rubbing at his eyes as if that would make the tears stop. “It’s all my fault. I have spent the past few days going back and trying to make sense of it all– everything . For years. Just–just all of it. Every moment.”

Your brows drew further together on your forehead as you stared back at him. What the hell was he talking about? Why had he come barging over to your apartment spouting nonsense? Why was he so emotional?

“I thought it was Foggy,” he said firmly, his hands lowering from his face. His sightless eyes locked on you as he continued. “I always thought it was Foggy .”

“What?” you asked him. “What’re you talking about, Matt? You thought what was Foggy?”

“The friend you were in love with,” he replied earnestly. “The one you’d told me about a few times at Columbia. The one I knew you were hurting over, that you hadn’t ever gotten over in years . Who you’d cried about that night in the alley when I’d found you drunk and hurting. I always thought it was Foggy .” He winced, shaking his head as he whispered, “I never thought that it was–that it even could be me .”

His words hit you hard and you stood there in absolute shock–Matt thought you’d loved Foggy all of this time? Your mouth fell open as you gaped at him, your brain only wondering one thing.

“ How ?” you asked in confusion. “With what you can do, how did you think I was in love with Foggy?”

Tears were still falling down his cheeks as he took another step towards you, one hand reaching up to wipe them away as his eyes never left you. You still stood frozen on the spot, your arms even further tightening around your chest in response to everything he was telling you. Because what did that mean ? Why had he come here to tell you this? Why now?

“I–I misread so much,” he told you. “When I first ran into you in the library, I picked up on your physical attraction to me–all the telltale signs. And when you gave me your number and agreed to meet up, I thought it meant you liked me. But then that night you came over and Foggy was there–you both hit it off. I tried to give it some time, hoping I was wrong somehow, but it felt like your body was reacting to him . Or at least, that’s how it seemed to me.” Matt shot you a sad, watery smile. “I was still very new to understanding women and relationships, I’ll be honest. I was fresh out of a Catholic orphanage when I went to Columbia. Besides picking up on signs of obvious physical attraction, I’ll admit, I was clueless. And I–I clearly read you very wrong the whole time.”

“But–” you began, pausing to piece together everything yourself. “But Matt, how did you not know? I tried to flirt with you that night when I first came over to your apartment with Foggy and Karen for dinner. It was a terrible attempt but I thought it was pretty fucking obvious. I mean, for fuck’s sake, you heard me at Clinton Church for weeks crying over you. You , Matt, not Foggy. How did it never suddenly click ? How did you never realize you’d gotten it wrong?”

“Because Elektra had often put it into my head that you were always staring at Foggy like you were in love with him,” Matt answered vehemently. “And it’s not like I can see otherwise. I trusted her–and I realized far too late that I shouldn’t have, but I did. Her words about you being in love with him only further proved in my mind that it was true.” His tongue darted out nervously to wet his lips before he continued on in an emotional rush. “And that night you came over more than a year ago, I wasn’t sure if you were flirting with me or not. Something had seemed off with you that day. There was a–a part of me that hoped you were, but I couldn’t be sure. I tried to reach out to you, but you’d distanced yourself from me for weeks after. I figured I’d misunderstood the situation. And…by the time everything happened with Midland Circle, I’d thought you’d already admitted to me that night you found out about my secret that you loved Foggy all this time.” He shrugged weakly, his face further falling. “After that night, I never bothered to question it again.”

Your heart was hammering in your chest so hard you swore you could feel it. Each and every sharp and thundering pound of it. So Matt hadn’t known you’d loved him all this time. Which meant he’d found out when you’d yelled at him the other night at Josie’s. Eyes immediately going wide, you sucked in a breath.

“Holy shit, so you didn’t–” you paused, taking a mortified step back from him, “–you didn’t know? And I–I blurted it out the other night?”

The sad, watery smile was still on Matt’s face as he nodded slowly in response. Something like a strangled cry fell out of you as you spun on your heel, burying your face in your hands. Embarrassment burned through your entire being. Shrinking in on yourself, you wished the floor would just swallow you whole. 

“Why’re you coming here to tell me this?” you cried out, that sharp pain in your chest slamming right into you. “Fuck, this is so incredibly embarrassing , Matt. I thought you knew !”

“Sweetheart,” Matt said softly. 

You stiffened at the term of endearment. He’d called you that once before, that night you’d found out about his big secret. The sound of his footsteps grew nearer but you kept your face buried in your hands.

“I came here to tell you that I have wanted you for years,” he whispered, his voice sounding like it was coming from just behind you. “The first time I stumbled across you it wasn’t at the library–I stumbled on you almost two months before that. On campus. Someone had dropped all their books and papers on the sidewalk and you’d stopped to help them. And I–I don’t know what it was about you, but I couldn’t get your voice and your scent and your kind words out of my head.”

Matt’s hand landed on your shoulder, the touch incredibly light and barely there. It felt like he wasn’t sure he could touch you. As he continued on, your heart only further beat wildly against your ribcage at his words.

“I spent weeks trying to run into you again,” Matt confessed. “Trying to just find you again–any trace of you at all. I couldn’t let you go. That day I met you in the library felt like sheer luck. I had been so stunned myself that you’d appeared to me finally that I’d accidentally ran into you.”

Your hands slowly lowered from your face, your head gradually turning over your shoulder to look at Matt just behind you. That sad smile crossed his lips again when he realized you were looking at him, tears still glistening in his eyes.

“What’s that mean, Matt?” you whispered.

“It means I’ve always wanted you,” he replied just as softly. “You’re the only one I’ve always wanted.”

Goosebumps rose along your arms at his admission. How long had you desperately hoped for him to say those words to you? How many times had you pictured this moment in your head? Wondered what it would feel like for him to want you back? 

“What about Elektra?” you whispered. “And Erica? You were just telling me you wanted to marry her, Matt. How the hell do you say that and then come here and tell me this?”

“I fell hard for Elektra in college,” Matt admitted. “I thought maybe I loved her. She was the only one who knew about that other side of me. What I could do. I thought she–she got me. Understood me. But my feelings for you had never gone away, and I thought maybe I could try to make them disappear with her. But it turned out she didn’t understand me at all, and clearly she saw how much you meant to me because she fed me lies about you loving Foggy.”

“What about the second time you were with her?” you asked, cringing at the question.

Matt immediately shook his head, his sightless eyes still focused along your face. His hand gripped your shoulder a little firmer.

“I was never with her when she came back,” he assured you. “ Never .”

“And Erica?” you pressed.

Your back was still turned towards him as he spoke, but you saw the frown settle onto his face. It felt like your heart was in your throat as you waited for him to explain.

“You had been with Adam for awhile,” he began, hurt clear in his tone. “So I thought maybe you’d finally gotten over Foggy, because you seemed happy with him. And as much as it broke my heart seeing you with Adam, I was truly happy for you. He was a nice guy. He treated you well. And as much as I wished it could’ve been me in his place, I was glad that you weren’t hurting anymore–or at least, I thought you weren’t.” He sighed, his eyes dropping down to the floor as he released your shoulder, his hand running across his forehead instead. “But I knew I’d never have you and I was lonely. That’s when Marci introduced me to Erica and we–we got along. Eventually I developed feelings for her–nothing that even remotely compared to how I feel about you, but I figured I’d never find that again. And things were…admittedly convenient ,” he said with a shameful grimace. “She was often working so she had no clue about me being out most nights as Daredevil. Which meant for once, Daredevil wasn’t an issue in my love life.”

“But Matt–”

“Look, I know it was stupid to think I could continue in a relationship like that, but I was hopeful,” he confessed. “I was lonely and I was hopeful that I’d have time to make things work with a long engagement. And as much as I–I wanted you , I was positive I’d never have you. And what I had with Erica seemed like it–it wouldn’t be so bad as an alternative. So I’d been thinking about proposing and that was why I was hoping to talk to you and Fog.” He shrugged a shoulder lightly, a deep frown on his face. “I was hoping both of you would help me look at things realistically, because you’re both my best friends. You know me.”

Your eyes narrowed at Matt as you finally turned partially towards him. “Then why did you get angry at me when I told you how ridiculous it all sounded?” you asked. 

“Because I could feel your anger,” he whispered. “And I didn’t understand it. I got defensive because it–it hurt hearing you say those things to me. Because I have–have loved you for so long and you were the one I wanted and couldn’t have. But I shouldn't have said those things to you in anger and I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I was hurt and I was stupid and I reacted without thinking.” His lips pressed together, the tears that had been glistening in his eyes quickly spilling forth. “I’m sorry I’ve hurt you so much over the years.”

You were struck speechless, still stuck on the part where he’d admitted to loving you. Matt was in love with you?

“I ended things with her, too,” he continued, the tears still falling. “The first chance I got after that night. Because I want you.”

Almost as if in slow motion you watched as Matt’s hand reached up, very carefully reaching out to gently cradle your cheek in the palm of his hand. You could feel your entire body trembling at the affectionate touch–it was so far from friendly. It reminded you of the night you’d been with him after graduation when he’d touched you so similarly. You understood now what had almost happened that night, and the fact that nothing had only added to the heartache. Because you were quickly realizing that you both had come close to admitting the truth so many times before only to end up here–with years wasted and hearts hurting.

“I want you,” he breathed out, his thumb lightly stroking your cheek. His eyes were slowly scanning your face, as if somehow committing you to memory in his own way as his lips pulled into that sad smile again. "I've only ever wanted you, sweetheart."

A sob fell out of you as you turned fully towards him, your arms immediately wrapping around his waist and drawing yourself into him without a thought. Matt was quick to encircle his own arms around your shoulders, holding you tightly to the front of himself as you felt him burying his face into your hair. Your fingers clawed at his back through the thin fabric of his tee-shirt, desperately holding onto him as you cried. From the pocket of your jeans, you heard your phone alert you to a notification you'd received. No doubt it was the car you’d ordered finally arriving, ready to bring you to the airport. That thought only had you clinging tighter to Matt as you sobbed against his chest.

“Why did you wait so long?” you cried out, face buried into his chest. “Why now, Matt? Why did you have to tell me all of this when I'm leaving?”

“I’m sorry,” he replied, voice breaking on the apology. “I’m so sorry.”

Your eyes snapped shut tight, tears soaking the front of his shirt. Your nails were digging into Matt’s back, clawing at him with how hopelessly you tried to hang on to him. 

“I–I want to ask you to stay,” he whispered, his face still buried into your hair where his tears were dampening the strands. “I want to beg you to. Tell you I would do anything to keep you here–because I would. Happily. Ten times over. But I know I have no right to ask that of you, sweetheart.”

"You're right," you breathed out, your body molding itself to the front of him. "You don't."

You hated that you'd found out Matt had loved you all of this time at this exact moment instead of weeks ago–months or even years ago when things could have gone differently. Because you had already accepted that job and you'd already gotten that apartment. You'd repeatedly told yourself you were leaving and doing this for yourself no matter what. And Matt coming here telling you all of this right now, as much as it made you want him even more because you now knew your feelings were returned, didn't change the fact that he had just ended a relationship with a woman he had considered proposing to only days ago. That he'd let you go on believing he was dead for months not that long ago–and that hadn't stopped hurting even if you'd forgiven him for it. And it certainly didn't change the fact that you had cried over him for years.

You'd needed a change. You needed time away. You needed space to figure things out for yourself without the constant heartache.

"Matt, I–" your eyes tightened further closed, tears still coming as your fingers desperately gripped his back, "–I have to do this. I have to move to LA. For me.” Your face remained pressed to his firm chest as you spoke, pausing just long enough to breathe in that familiar clean scent of him. You hoped you’d never truly forget it. “You just ended things with Erica days ago,” you continued quietly. “This–this isn't how I would want to start things with you. It's not right."

You heard him inhale a shuddering breath, his mouth beside your ear as he did. His hands slid down to wrap firmly around your back, his palms pressing you securely to himself. You could feel his own fingers digging into you through your shirt, his own desperate need to keep you close only making your tears fall faster. In that moment, you knew he’d been hurting just as much as you always had been. Somehow you could feel it in the tears of his that fell, mingling with yours along your skin, and the sharp, ragged breaths he was clearly trying to control. 

"I know," he whispered, voice strained. “You deserve better.”

Reluctantly you slowly pulled away from him, your heart twisting in your chest at the absolute broken state of Matt before you. With a loud sniffle, you pulled your phone from your pocket and saw that you did have a notification for the car you’d called. You responded to it, pressing your trembling lips firmly together as you tried to compose yourself. You needed to leave or you’d miss your flight.

“The car is here to take me to the airport,” you whispered, slipping your phone back into your pocket before glancing up at Matt. “I–I have to go, Matty.”

Matt nodded, his hands roughly wiping at his eyes. “Can I walk you out?” he asked. “Please?”

Swallowing hard, you nodded. “Yeah,” you whispered. “I just need to grab my bag.”

Walking past Matt, you made your way towards your kitchen to the lone piece of luggage that was sitting right where you’d left it. You slid the handle of it out before turning and shuffling your way across the room and back over to Matt. He was clearly trying to take the moment to compose himself, but he didn’t seem very successful with the way his tears were still falling. When you neared him, he timidly held out a hand towards you and you paused, staring at it as your heart unsteadily beat in your chest. A second later you hesitantly reached out, slipping your hand into his. Matt’s face momentarily lit up as he tried to smile at you, his large hand reassuringly squeezing yours.

You sent him a small smile in return before you guided the pair of you out of your apartment, leaving it for the last time. The sound of the door closing behind you both was louder and harsher than usual as you led Matt down the hall and towards the elevators. Neither of you said anything as you waited for it to reach your floor, and neither of you said anything as you both stepped inside. Though as the elevator doors slid closed, Matt’s fingers entwined with yours, as if he was finding any way he could to hold onto you just a bit tighter for just a bit longer. Somehow that hurt, too.

Gradually the elevator lowered until it reached the lobby and you stepped out, your stomach roiling with nerves at the final goodbye that you could feel fast approaching. In silence you led him over towards the car that was waiting for you, politely greeting the driver who took your bag from you and stowed it in the trunk of the car. As they were getting back into the driver’s side, you finally turned and focused on Matt, your hand still enjoined with his.

The sight of him alone had your heart breaking–he still looked just as broken as that day you’d found him crying over Elektra. Except now it was because of you . Instantly the tears began streaming down your face and briefly you wondered how the hell you had a single tear left to shed after all of this time. Matt tried his best to smile at you, his other hand reaching up to wipe away your tears as they continued to fall. 

“Please don’t cry, sweetheart,” Matt said gently, the calloused pad of his thumb still wiping away the wetness on your cheeks. 

“I’m sorry,” you choked out. “I’m sorry for leaving you, Matty. For hurting you.”

Matt shook his head, that sad smile still lingering along his lips. “Don’t apologize,” he whispered. “If this is what you need, if it’ll make you happy, then I–I support you. Even if it hurts. All I want is to know you’re happy.” His thumb slid down, lightly brushing beside the corner of your lips as his sad eyes focused there. “But I’m–I’m sorry my timing with telling you how I felt was so terrible. I should have told you on graduation night like I planned to. Maybe we wouldn’t be here now.”

“You couldn’t have known,” you whispered. 

Matt grimaced briefly, the corner of his mouth turning downward. “Your driver sounds irritated. I should probably uh, let you go,” he said, the last word coming out a little choked.

Stepping towards Matt, you once again wrapped your arms around his waist and buried your face against the damp spot your tears had created on his tee-shirt. His own arms immediately held you to him again, his face now burying into the side of your neck. The pair of you stayed like that for a long moment, neither of you clearly wanting to let go. Your eyes closed and you relaxed into him, breathing in the scent of him. If you pushed aside what was happening right now, you could feel whatever it was you’d always felt when you hugged Matt washing over you. That warm, comforting feeling you’d told Foggy about before. The feeling you always experienced when you hugged Matt. You knew what it was now.

He felt like home.

Fresh tears welled in your eyes as Matt slowly pulled away from you, your arms once again coming to wrap tight around your chest as if that alone would keep you from shattering to pieces on the sidewalk. 

“I don’t want to say goodbye,” you admitted weakly.

He reached a hand out, tucking some hair behind your ear as his watery gaze focused along your chin.

“Then don’t,” he replied softly. “I’ll see you again another time, sweetheart.”

His fingers lingered along your cheek, once again lightly wiping away the tears that were falling. Your heart clenched in your chest when you finally found the nerve to speak.

“I’ll miss you, Matty,” you confessed. 

“I’ll miss you, too,” he whispered, his hand falling from your face.

You stood there for a few seconds longer, trying to commit the memory of Matt to your mind. You didn’t want to forget him. Truthfully you didn’t want to leave him. Though eventually you finally turned and opened the car door, slipping into the backseat. You pulled the door shut after yourself, confirming with the driver that you were heading to the airport as you put your seatbelt on. Your attention shifted back to Matt out of the window to where he was standing on the sidewalk. His glasses were back on his face as he began unfolding the cane he’d had folded up in his back pocket. 

When the car finally pulled out into traffic, your eyes remained on Matt through the back window. His face was turned towards you as the car drove away, and you swore you saw his lips moving as if he’d said something, though you couldn’t make out what. You tried to remind yourself internally why you were doing this as the sight of Matt standing on the edge of the sidewalk slowly became harder and harder to see. But when he finally was entirely out of your view, you felt something sharp hit you right in the chest. Raising a hand up, you absently rubbed at the spot just over your heart, eyes still focused out of the back window as tears filled them yet again.

[END NOTES]

End notes again, because I feel like y'all need them. Again.

Matt finally confessed!! He explained quite a bit to Reader but inevitably, she left to LA. I mean, she'd already accepted the job and had no place to stay in Hell's Kitchen for starters, but also, she did really need to take a step away from Matt and try to live her life. And it certainly wouldn't be fair to Reader to try to jump into a relationship with Matt literally days after he'd been having a discussion about possibly proposing to someone else. So Reader is leaving anyway. And there was NO KISS because honestly, I feel like kissing in that moment would just hurt both of them even more. So you're still going to be waiting on that. But I will say the beginnings of comfort will probably start after the next installment for those of you literally hanging by a thread reading this. But there will be a happy ending to this fic so things will slowly begin to turn around soon!

But now for real, I need to focus on my other fics this week. Preferably things that are less angsty like FFTD.

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock angst #matt murdock #matt murdock fic #daredevil

[aphroditeslover11]

Hi! I hope that you're having a great day/night! Could I request Lenny Miller with a younger reader?

Love Of His Life

This came so naturally, I’m not sure if it’s what you were hoping for but it just flowed out of my hands!

Warnings: a little smut, age gap, not proofread

Lenny had met you when you were spending a year in Paris, having taken a French degree that required you to spend a year abroad as a part of your study. It took some convincing for you to go out on a date with the older man, but he was persistent and eventually won you over. After he had taken you to dinner at Le Meurice, picking up the tab himself, he had walked you home and sent flowers to your tiny chamber de bonne the next day along with a note thanking you for your company. The fact that he was old didn’t mean he was dull or sleazy as you had feared, it meant that he was a hopeless romantic who knew how to treat a woman properly. The next time you met he had taken you for a picnic in the Jardin Du Luxembourg, complete with amazing French cheeses and a bottle of expensive champagne. It was fair to say that pretty soon you were hooked. Everyone always said that you were mature for your age anyway, so the concept of the age gap quickly became irrelevant to you.

A year later and you had finished your degree. When it got towards the end of your time studying in France Lenny had taken the risk of proposing you after taking you back to Le Meurice like he had on your first date. You hadn’t thought before saying yes, he put in for a transfer to be near you whilst you finished your degree and life continued in your strange state bliss.

You tied the knot quite quickly after that, getting married in a small service. His parents had both passed and he was an only child. Neither had much in the way of family, but you had agreed to a wedding in the church where he had grown up in Hawaï, though he wouldn’t admit it you knew that it made him feel close to his parents. You had the perfect white dress and he was in uniform, a hang over from the days when he had been climbing the ranks of Navy SEALs before he had been recruited into the CIA. As there were so few people you didn’t bother having a proper reception, he opted to take you to the beach where he had spent his time as a child, eating cheap burgers as your wedding breakfast and replacing the lights of a dance floor with the soft glow of the stars above you.

After this you moved to New York, he was promoted and took over a senior intelligence post, stationed in the city. He was in and out of the UN meeting with his counterparts, meeting all kinds of people. You knew he worked so hard because he wanted to prove he was worthy of you, his young and beautiful wife. You were remarkably proud of him, even if he found it hard to believe it. He was smart and had invested some of what his parents had left him into the stock market back when he was in the navy and used it to buy a beautiful apartment on the Upper East Side. It had a beautiful kitchen diner where you would attempt to cook together, often ending up in resorting to ordering takeout after Lenny decided that it would be a good idea to modify your recipes. There was something beautifully domestic about this life, it was still unpredictable but safe. Lenny refused to tell you much about his past because he didn’t want you to view him differently, but he gave up the guns and the action so he could live a safe life with you, finally letting himself rest.

After having seen so many horrible things he would want to protect you from the harshest realities of the world. You were young and innocent and so perfect for him, he didn’t want to taint that. He would never let an argument go unresolved before you went to bed. On the rare occasion that you had a proper row he would usually cave first and give you your way. He would usually be so in control of himself, but when he did shout it was harsh and loud, it always terrified you and as soon as he saw the look on your face he would cave. He could never stand the thought of you being afraid of him.

Arguments would often end in the bedroom, he would be the gentlest lover after a fight, peppering kisses along your collarbones before slowly moving down your body. He would be attentive, bringing you over the edge as many times as he could with his hands and his tongue until he had finally made it up to you. Only then would he seek any pleasure for himself, sheathing himself within you and moving so gently it would be as if you were made of porcelain. He’d be terrified of hurting you after seeing you so vulnerable earlier.

There could be another side of him in bed though. A raw and passionate one that came out after a difficult day at work. You learnt how to bring it out yourself over time, how to tease him with subtle touches at the work galas that he took you to and how he could never control himself when he saw you in just your lingerie and a pair of Louboutins. On those nights he would go for rounds at a time. Voracious, like a starving man at a banquet. He delighted in having you spread out below him, completely vulnerable to him and at his mercy. You always looked so small from that angle, he could do anything he wanted to you, and moreover he knew that you would let him and enjoy it. No matter how hard he took you though, he always ended with his head buried in the crook of your neck, whispering passionate prose into your ear and telling you how precious you were to him, how he would never let any harm come to you.

He managed to temper his protective tendencies well. Although both of you knew that it wasn’t a necessity, you found a job working in a little bookshop a few days a week, something to occupy your time. He was always anxious that something from his past would come back to haunt him, to haunt you, but he did his best to keep his worries separate from your life together. On account of your age difference, he was forced to confront the fact that there were things that you would want to do that he had left in the past, many years ago. You had a tight circle of friends that you would go with for nights out - clubbing, dancing and drinking in dives that he would never go into. He would never do anything to stop you, he would want you to live a life as full as you would have without him. Still, he couldn’t help it if he had to stay up until 3:00 am to make sure that you got home safe.

You had a beautiful life together in New York, it was something that you had built together, brick by brick. Every day he found himself falling deeper in love with you. He often said that he would probably have ended up dead in an abandoned corner of some far off land if he hadn’t had you to force him out of his ways. He pushed so hard for so long yet in you, your fragility and youth, he had finally made something to make him slow down. He finally understood the meaning of the phrase - you were the love of his life

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy x reader #lenny miller x reader #lenny miller #anna

[rae-and-mezo]

Could you write headcanon Seb and Omi being mean at reader so they cries and run away. The boys come to them to apologize.

Sebastian and Ominis say Awful Things During a Fight

A/N: This turned out a lot more like a blurb than headcanons, oops! I liked this one, angst is fun. I'm sorry it took me so long, finals are KILLING ME!

Seb:

You're sitting in the Undercroft with an ice pack to your head. Admittedly, you shouldn't have dove into the cave without a Wiggen weld potion. But you don't regret going in, how else would you save the Merlops from dark wizards.

Luckily you got out with just a concussion, Poppy dragged you away just in time.

But Sebastian heard the news in the form of a rumor, and he didn't hesitate to run out of charms class and towards where he hoped you were.

"Mc! Oh Merlin, what did you do?" He didn't even greet you as he stormed into the cold room.

You winced, half because of the pain and half because you had hoped Seb wouldn't find out.

"Hello, Sebastian." You greeted without turning around. After all, you weren't sure you could keep from crying. Sebastian grabbed your shoulders and turned you to face him gently.

He simply shook his head in wonder as he took the ice pack and examined your head. "It looks bad."

"It's really not." Sebastian frowns at your dismissal. "Okay, well, either way, it needs to be healed. The hospital wing isn't a good idea, they'll just ask questions. I'll run and grab a wiggenweld...no, I should stay with you. Anne taught me a healing charm a few years ago, I can attempt it if you would like."

"Sebastian."

"On second thought, I shouldn't try an unknown charm on you. Is it more of an aching pain or sharp pain? I have some herbs in my bag and-"

"Sebastian." He looks up at you fiercely. Around anyone else he hides his emotions, but around you it seems they flow right from his sleeve. Is he shaking? He is, you decide, but because it's cold. At least that's better than admitting he is shaking because of the fear you caused him.

"I'm alright."

"No, you're not. Look at this lump! How did you even get it?" the uncomfortable silence told both of you that he didn't really want to know.

"It will heal Sebastian."

"You didn't answer my question."

"It doesn't matter."

"It does!" Sebastian stands up with his hands in his hair. "Merlin, it does! You do this every bloody week, go off on some quest and come back beat up. Why don't you ever ask somebody to go with you? Is it your pride? I bet it is."

Taken aback by his outburst, your eyes widen. "I just ran into an unexpected group of poachers, Sebastian I promise."

"I don't doubt it. You...you probably scouted them out, right? You're always looking for more ways to get into danger anyways. You don't trust me. That's why you don't ask me to go with you. Either you don't trust me, or you're lying." He paces a small portion of the room.

"I do trust you, Seb. I just want to protect you."

"Is that what you call it? Lying to me about where you're going and then hurting yourself?" He turns to face you and steps closer. "Let me tell you something. You're going to die out there. A slow, painful death because you're too fucking stubborn too ask for help." When you don't budge, he narrows his eyes. "Will anyone grieve? We will miss you, but we all would know it was coming. Every one of us would know, I promise. And as much as we would miss you, we wouldn't have to worry about you anymore."

Silence.

"Fuck you."

And then, you're off. A blur of tears, are you shaking? You are. No sounds but the thumping of your feet on the corridors. Your head hurts.

You couldn't comprehend what Sebastian had said, it was too painful. A fog filtered through your mind and you didn't stop to think somebody might have seen you running. Everything inside hurt.

If you were gone, it would be a burden off of everyone's back. That's what he said. It hurt so bad you clutched at your chest.

In the dungeons, you couldn't run anymore. So you collapsed into the nearest wall in a mess of sobs. Of course, he was right. Of course he was. Had he ever been wrong?

And it's three days (or really, an hour) until Sebastian comes and finds you. He has tears running down his face too.

"Mc!"

"Fuck off."

You might agree with him, but you don't want to see him. He sits down opposite of you, and he's still shaking.

"I shouldn't have said that."

Silence.

"I didn't mean it."

Silence.

"I swear, MC, I was just worried and-"

He stops when you turn to face him. "Sebastian. Shut up." The harsh words shock him. "You were right."

"No!" Those eyes you love so much widen. "I wasn't, don't say that! Mc, you are the best thing that has ever happened to me, let alone Hogwarts. I would- no, the world would be devastated to lose you. All you were trying to do was protect us and the innocent creatures. I was terrified something happened to you, and took it out in the worst way possible. I am beyond sorry, my love."

You frown as you took in his face. Wide brown eyes, messy hair from sprinting towards you, swollen eyebags and a red neck from the near hyperventilating breaths he had been taking.

"I'm sorry too." He smiles and holds a hand out halfway too you. An invitation, maybe. "You don't need to be. How about this? I'll work on taking my anger out, and we can come up with a way for you to tell me if you're about to, you know, jump into a poacher ring."

"Sounds like a plan." You shake his hand.

Ominis

Yet again, the two of you were arguing.

It all had started a few days earlier with a letter from Ominis's parents. They had found a wife for him, a distant cousin capable of legilimency. With her powers and his Parseltoungue, they could make the ultimate heirs of Slytherin.

You wished that Ominis was able to forget things. He never had been, and never would be, but it would make your life easier. Instead, he fixated on a story his older brother had told him of one of their second cousins. Albert was his name. And he had refused to marry the bride his parents picked out. He was forced to marry her with a blade to his sisters throat and a noose around his beloved's neck.

It was probably just a tale, you told him. Maybe it was, but Ominis could never take the risk. You had spent the last few days trying to get into his head, but he prevailed. The attempts had ended in pure passive agression.

All he wanted was too keep you safe from his family, but all you had waned was him.

Here you sat, on the quidditch pitch in the middle of the night. An odd place to be sure, but it was secluded. And you could put as much distance between the two of you as you wanted.

"Are you even going to try and fight for us, Ominis?"

"try? I've been trying! I've done everything but refuse, and if I do it will kill you."

"You don't know that!"

"MC, it's not that easy. I love you too much to-"

"Love me so much you're willing to marry someone else and write me off? How is this fair to me?"

"It's not, and it's not fair to me either. But I don't have a choice." You glared at him as he swept a hand through his hair.

"like hell you dont!" You snarl. "Run away with me."

"MC, you know we can't do that. They'll find us." His look of pure heartbreak would have hurt if you weren't pissed off. "MC..."

"I don't want to talk about this right now. I don't want to talk right now." He frowned at your words. "this isn't easy for me either, MC,"

"I didn't say it was."

"Are you even trying to listen to me? Do you EVER listen to me?" Ominis runs an angry hand through his hair. "Do you listen to me MC, or do you ever listen to anybody?"

"Oh really, Ominis?" you stand. "you want to go there?"

"I swear, MC, you only care about yourself." You raised an eyebrow. "And that's why I saved hogwarts, and your ass right?"

"Just leave me alone. I don't want anything to do with you."

"You don't mean that."

"Oh, but I do. I never loved you."

Logically, you knew he was under a lot of stress and trying to protect his own feelings. But emotionally, it hit you like a bullet to the chest. You take a deep breath and turn to walk away.

"You're going to run away now?"

You started running. And didn't stop until you got to the Undercroft. Sure, he could find you there, but it was far, far away from the pitch and that's all you wanted in the moment. You crumbled against the wall and cried. How could he ever say that? It kept playing in your mind, over and over.

Tears kept coming, then they came some more, and eventually you fell asleep. It was exhausting to cry, after all. And when you woke up, there was something in your hair.

A hand.

Ominis was sitting next to you, running a hand through your hair, his face pale and blank. You had never seen his eyes so devoid of emotion. Instinctively, you curled up to him, but when you remembered what he said, you jumped away.

He looked down at you with sad, sad eyes. "I'm not even going to try to apologize. I don't deserve to be forgiven. Just, please don't make this more painful than it has to be. I know you never want to talk to me again. I just wanted to say goodbye."

"Fuck off." You groaned, scotting away from him. "I don't want to speak to you."

"I know. I just wanted to apologize before leaving." He sighed, raking a hand through his unusually messy hair. "I didn't mean what I said. I love you more than I could ever put into words. I am nothing without you. I have only ever wanted to protect you, and if that means having to say goodbye, so be it."

You stared at him for a moment before shaking your head. "You, Ominis, are an Idiot. I want you. I don't want you to say goodbye to protect me. All I want is for you to fight for me. I'm not mad about you saying you didn't love me. I was, but I know you didn't mean it. I am, however, furious that you aren't giving me a chance to fight for you, and that you aren't fighting for me."

"I want too. I will send an Owl to my parents first thing in the morning to tell them I won't marry her. That they can either cast me from the family or accept it, but it's what's going to happen."

You look up at him, wide eyed at his willingness to fight for your love.

"Really?" You ask and hate that you sound rather like a small child.

"Really." He wiped your tears with his thumbs and smiled gently. "I know you aren't ready to forgive me yet, but I'm here and I'm not leaving."

#hphl #ominis gaunt #sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy #ominis gaunt x reader #hogwarts legacy headcanon #sebastian sallow imagine #sebastian sallow x reader

[thegreenthepeacetheorange]

"Gale says I never smile except in the woods." - Katniss, THG, Ch. 1.

I present to you: Instances of Katniss effortlessly smiling/laughing around/because of Peeta in the first book:

Peeta unexpectedly laughs. “He was drunk,” says Peeta. “He’s drunk every year.”  “Every day,” I add. I can’t help smirking a little. 

“Where is Haymitch, anyway? Isn’t he supposed to protect us from this sort of thing?” says Peeta.  “With all that alcohol in him, it’s probably not advisable to have him around an open flame,” I say.  And suddenly we’re both laughing. I guess we’re both so nervous about the Games and more pressingly, petrified of being turned into human torches, we’re not acting sensibly. 

When we finally escape to bed on the second night, Peeta mumbles, “Someone ought to get Haymitch a drink.”  I make a sound that is somewhere between a snort and a laugh. Then catch myself. It’s messing with my mind too much, trying to keep straight when we’re supposedly friends and when we’re not. 

“I hope that’s how people interpret the four I’ll probably get,” says Peeta. “If that. Really, is anything less impressive than watching a person pick up a heavy ball and throw it a couple of yards. One almost landed on my foot.”  I grin at him and realize that I’m starving. 

Peeta, it turns out, has never been a danger to me.  The thought makes me smile. 

“Lean down a minute first,” he says. “Need to tell you something.” I lean over and put my good ear to his lips, which tickle as he whispers. “Remember, we’re madly in love, so it’s all right to kiss me anytime you feel like it.”  I jerk my head back but end up laughing. “Thanks, I’ll keep it in mind.” 

“Katniss?” Peeta says. I meet his eyes, knowing my face must be some shade of green. He mouths the words.  “How about that kiss?”  I burst out laughing because the whole thing is so revolting I can’t stand it. 

Peeta’s struggling to get up when I reach the cave. “I woke up and you were gone,” he says. “I was worried about you.”  I have to laugh as I ease him back down. “You were worried about me? Have you taken a look at yourself lately?” 

“So that day, in music assembly, the teacher asked who knew the valley song. Your hand shot right up in the air. She stood you up on a stool and had you sing it for us. And I swear, every bird outside the windows fell silent,” Peeta says.  “Oh, please,” I say, laughing. 

“What’s the problem?” I say with a grin.  “The problem is we’re both still alive. Which only reinforces the idea in your mind that you did the right thing,” says Peeta. 

“Ah, that’ll be nice,” says Peeta, tightening his arms around me. “You and me and Haymitch. Very cozy. Picnics, birthdays, long winter nights around the fire retelling old Hunger Games’ tales.”  “I told you, he hates me!” I say, but I can’t help laughing at the image of Haymitch becoming my new pal. 

“Hey, Effie, watch this!” says Peeta. He tosses his fork over his shoulder and literally licks his plate clean with his tongue making loud, satisfied sounds. Then he blows a kiss out to her in general and calls, “We miss you, Effie!”  I cover his mouth with my hand, but I’m laughing. “Stop! Cato could be right outside our cave.” 

#he had her kicking her feet and giggling #in the middle of a death arena #everlark #peeta x katniss #katniss x peeta #katniss and peeta #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #the hunger games #they were just two teens with a huge crush on each other #just talking and laughing and bonding amongst all this chaos #and she doesn't really smile or laugh apart from in the woods or with prim #so the fact that she does so easily with peeta #with her team in the capitol? #with haymitch and effie and finnick and johanna? #found family fr

[britcision]

AND NOW: Part Two! One might think I would look at the fic at some point and check what chapter we’re on, but I will not! Mostly for “but that takes effort” reasons but also because by the time I get back here I WILL have forgotten!

Part One of this chapter:

First Chapter:

———————

Well You Did Get Down On One Knee (part 2)

Tucker, Conner, and Tim had actually gotten through another round of Spiderheck in between the rabid buzzing of Tim and Tucker’s phones. 

Conner had the good sense to mute his and toss it behind the couch… after sharing the “good news” of Timblr with the Young Justice chat. Without which his phone probably wouldn’t have been buzzing at all.

He regretted nothing, despite Tim’s alternate pouting and threats. Tucker was pretty impressed, and pretty sure that it wasn’t just for the guy’s good looks this time. 

Finally, after the fourth time Tim’s ringtone changed itself and blasted at full volume (making Tucker completely drop his controller), the Black tech gave up, sighing heartily and dropping his head into his hands. 

Not least to hide the sudden wicked grin on his face as an idea struck. Because yeah, sure, he could help Tim try and unhack fucking Oracle on the sly, or… they could remove the distraction another way. 

(Tucker wasn’t a thousand percent ungrateful for the distraction; he was pretty sure even without the merry buzzing of his social life burning down around him he’d have had a hard time concentrating on the game. 

It just plain wasn’t fair; Conner was too fucking hot, and so earnest, and excited when he was doing well! All the little shouts and exclamations, the broad grins, Tucker was really beginning to doubt his own demisexual nature. 

Although, to be fair, it wasn’t like he actually wanted to… interact while Conner was being cuter than Cujo with a rubber bone. Just. It was hard to think about anything else when he could be appreciating all… that instead. 

At least while Tim’s ass was being blown off by at least three separate group chats, Tucker’s floundering was less embarrassing.) 

Tim gave him a consoling pat on the back while Conner whooped in victory, probably trying to comfort Tucker in the loss. Tucker let him for a moment, running a couple quick calculations in his head. 

Because yeah, he’d never got around to asking Danny to ecto infuse any of the Waynes’ tech; not the batcomputer nor the gaming consoles, but. Well. They’d played for hours the last two nights, and it wasn’t like Tucker had never gotten his hands through a console’s innards. 

It had to count as knowing the device, right? 

And it wasn’t like it was that hard, doing it for just three people. For just one game. 

Looking up at the other two, he gave them both a slightly shyer grin. 

“So, like… I know we’re having a good time and all,” he began, and Tim groaned theatrically as he was interrupted yet again by his ringtone. 

“I’m about to ask Superboy to toss this thing into space,” he grumbled, glowering at his phone. 

Conner reached innocently towards it and Tim snatched it back up immediately. Tucker settled back once it was safe too, grinning sheepishly even if it wasn’t his bluff Conner called. 

Conner tipped him a wink and Tucker had to clear his throat and give his head a quick shake to clear his blush. 

“Right… yeah, uh, anyway. What if I had a better way to get us away from distractions?” He asked as innocently as he could, staring at the screen instead of that far too attractive face. 

He could still see the other two sit up from the corner of his eye, both looking interested. 

“We’re not allowed to game in the Bat Cave,” Tim said quickly, with a resigned air that said the question had come up before… and enough disappointment that they’d probably done it and been caught. 

Which, yeah, thinking of the size of the screen in the cave, Tucker suddenly really wanted to try that too. 

Already banned though. And he and Danny were already on thin enough ice with Batman as it was. 

Reluctantly dismissing the thought, he returned his attention to the present moment, grin spreading as he turned to face Tim directly. 

(Tim was safe. Tim was, objectively, a very handsome young man and Tucker could appreciate that in a distant way, but being pretty was just so much less interesting that almost anything else about Tim. 

Tucker could worship him through a distant computer screen, so the pretty blue eyes weren’t much of a distraction. Looking at Tim face to face was really cool, but Tucker would be more tongue tied watching him code.) 

“Sure, but you remember I told you about my technopathy? I can interface with machines I know really well,” he added for Conner’s benefit, accidentally looking over in time to preen as his face lit up with interest. 

Tim, for some reason, stifled a snicker. 

“Yeah, you mentioned. And that it was a little more complicated, but go on,” he prodded, and Conner shot him a look that Tucker was gonna have to ask questions about. 

Later. Once he was done showing off a little. And, probably, getting his ass kicked at Spiderheck. 

Tucker Foley was a master of video game controls, sure, and that sorta helped, as did “knowing you’ve been thrust into a video game”. He just didn’t delude himself into thinking it’d be enough to counter the actual literal battle training of superheroes. 

But hey, maybe having all those extra legs would fuck them both up for long enough that he’d win a few rounds. 

“Well I think you might’ve already noticed, but I know this game really well.” 

** 

Danny was doing his best to keep a cheerful face on things, especially the weird shit. 

It had been a while since he’d had a nasty new halfa surprise of his own crop up (although he didn’t dare hope he’d had his last; that would surely bring something on), but he still remembered how it felt. 

How overwhelming, how hollow and intimidating the world could be when you were learning that you really knew almost nothing about yourself. That at any time, your body could do something totally out of your control. 

Something you might not be able to handle. 

He’d felt the fear in Jason, deep and bright and smothered a second later, but not before Danny felt it. 

At least he could be here for the other guy; he wasn’t going to be going into the whole mess alone. Danny would make sure of that. Understandable as his reservations about reliving his death were, they would face it together, and he had to hope that might help. 

Possibly with Jazz too, when it was actually time for that first transformation. Danny hadn’t even really started coping with dying when he’d first changed, and he’d been dead less than a minute; it had almost been part of the rebirth process. By the time he’d had to do it for a fight, he already knew what would happen.

For Jason… well, it had been a while, and even Danny could see he’d not done much more than paper over the cracks with bad ecto induced rage and carry on. 

He was trying not to let Jason see how much he worried, but had a feeling it didn’t matter. Jason was plenty worried already. 

Good news was… well, there wasn’t much good news. It was going to suck, no matter what, and if they didn’t do it in controlled conditions it’d be fucking awful. 

But they did have some controlled conditions, and better yet? Probably wouldn’t be a problem for at least a couple more days. 

As little as Danny wanted to talk about the whole… mess that was Jason’s death, Jason himself was all about the detailed planning. Back ups of back ups and all that. 

It probably came with the Batman training. 

(The mad compartmentalising totally did. Danny had spent enough time with Bruce in one single car ride to be sure about that.) 

For the moment, he gave Jason as much support he could; contact, a reassuring aura, and a smile whenever he could, and absolutely no oogling of his mostly naked body while they were doing the checkup. 

(Jason had mentioned a pit-related growth spurt last time, and this close Danny could see that the scars all over him were interspersed with stretch marks. Now that he actually looked the difference was super obvious; the different colour, the creasing where they indented the skin. 

Danny definitely wasn’t thinking of licking them to see if he could feel the texture. 

Or running his fingers over bared skin, which was admittedly less intimate than the licking thoughts he totally wasn’t having, but also seemed kinda more a betrayal. Because Jason wouldn’t question Danny touching him, but Danny would have Nefarious Motives. 

Of. Textures. 

But it was totally fine because he wasn’t having any of those thoughts at all.)  

He just wished he knew what had caused that sudden panic attack Jason had earlier; it had come almost from nowhere, a wave of black and crushing dread that froze Danny’s already-iced core. It filled the room, filled his lungs, and would have cost him everything to not respond. 

Part of him had wanted to shove Jason fully inside himself, store the much larger man in the hollow of his chest so that nothing could hurt him. 

(And Danny could, technically, kinda do that. Jason didn’t have to be that much bigger than him, at least while Danny was in ghost form. Ghost form was all about self perception and, well, raw power. 

Looking like his twink ass self was a deliberate choice, and one he’d never regretted until it meant not curling Jason into the infinite curls of his tail and protecting himself from the universe as a whole.) 

Danny was super great at boundaries. Yup. One thousand percent completely normal about them. 

But he’d been able to wrap his aura around Jason anyway, because that wasn’t a freakishly massive monster form that would freak him out further. They’d helped him calm down, helped him breathe, and Jason seemed… 

Way too fine, frankly, even his aura had cleared, and Danny trusted that about as far as Sam could throw him. Bat-level compartmentalizing, for sure. 

That was gonna get real weird when the more emotionally regulated ghost powers kicked in, but Danny was gonna cross his fingers and hope that it made Jason’s transition easier, not infinitely more fucked up. Jazz would be intolerable, for one thing. 

Most of the rest of the appointment went well anyway; bar the surprise “Congratulations On Your Soul Bond” news (which he would not be thinking about too hard until he couldn’t possibly avoid it), it was pretty much what they’d expected. 

Jason was doing good, Danny was gonna need to work around classes tomorrow maybe for another trip, and there was just the teeniest chance Jason’s fully formed core would manifest like, physically. 

Shockwaves had been mentioned. Danny now had questions about how much of his original death light show had been the portal itself opening. Ones that could never be answered, but hey. 

If/when Clockwork showed up, Danny was gonna prioritise Jason’s soul contract over his own curiosity for purely friend related reasons. 

Danny didn’t like soul contracts of any sort at the best of times, unwritten ones that put a friend into his service? Yeah, maybe he was feeling just a little vindicated that Jason could see what he’d been freaking out about now. 

Now that it was too late, but Danny was technically the Ghost King and Clockwork’s boss, so even if he couldn’t fix the whole mess until his coronation, it wasn’t gonna be a problem-problem. 

If Clockwork tried to use the contract to push Danny into accepting his coronation more quickly, well, Danny had a real good win streak of fighting ancients in his pocket. And he’d double never get coronated if they spent the rest of eternity playing cat and mouse for Danny to beat Clockwork’s ass, so. 

Not that Danny believed Clockwork would, really. The Observants? Abso-fucking-lutely, he’d be swinging before they finished a sentence, but Clockwork genuinely seemed to care. 

He pruned the timelines with the ruthless efficiency of a gardener, but always to make the best outcome. The one where the least people got fucked over. 

He’d absolutely fuck Danny over in the service of getting that best outcome, but Danny was also pretty sure he’d feel bad about it if he did, and that Clockwork would and had chosen to believe in him over his predicted outcomes more than once. 

Danny trusted Clockwork. 

Of course, now that he wasn’t trying to hide and actually wanted to see his mentor and regent, the bastard was nowhere to be found. 

All jokes about the “Ever-Moving Now” aside, they weren’t directly making for Clockwork’s tower; the only way to find it was with Clockwork’s permission, so Danny didn’t usually bother. As a kid they’d thought they could stumble across it and surprise him, but these days? 

Danny knew better. And Clockwork wasn’t exactly subtle; his lair had showed up around the very first metaphorical corner when he wanted Danny to come in once too often. And hadn’t been anywhere to be found when Danny searched, only to show up beside his fucking portal home. 

Where it definitely hadn’t been on his way in. 

It went where Clockwork wanted it, when he wanted it there. Danny totally wasn’t jealous. 

It had been a while since he’d bothered hiding from Danny though; these past couple months, just being in the Zone had netted him an unwanted visit from his regent. Danny was beginning to suspect Clockwork wasn’t actually all that keen on ruling the realms, and was just planning to fob the job off on him. 

Which, y’know, fair. Danny wasn’t exactly thrilled with it either. But it was his job as Danny’s mentor to protect him from this shit, right? 

Now that Danny actually wanted to see him though, of course he wasn’t around. Which probably wasn’t actually a bad sign, or that he’d done something he didn’t want them to know about. 

Clockwork was just a cryptic asshole, and apparently Jason had used up all of his “getting clear answers” cards in their first meeting. If only Danny had ever gotten a single damn one. 

There was one other detour Danny wanted to make while in the Realms, but… today didn’t feel like quite the right time. Jason had already had a fucking day of it, and Danny didn’t wanna dump any more on him. Even if Ghost Writer’s library would be a nice trip for Jason, it was something they should talk about first.

And… probably ask Ghost Writer about first too.

If Danny ever remembered to do that.

So they’d thanked Frostbite, gotten Jason a bag of ecto ice chips (Danny wasn’t allowed any, it was totally unfair because he needed an energy boost too! But noooo, his core was “stabilised” and “complete” and he needed to “sleep” and “eat” for energy like a pleb. Unfair!), and agreed to come back as soon as Jason’s core stabilised. 

Danny figured he could always come back on his own for a visit to Nocturn. That was gonna be a whole ass emotional mess; Dan was technically in the database Tucker had handed over, but Jason hadn’t mentioned it yet. Danny didn’t know if that meant he didn’t know, or was just being actually tactful. 

He wasn’t even sure what he actually wanted to say yet, how to ask for what he wanted, and he should probably do this right. Nocturn hadn’t challenged him again since he’d become king, and had actually been super helpful so far, but… well, the spirit of dreams was proud, powerful, and Danny was pretty sure he helped specifically to have something on Danny. He’d already decided that his main job tonight was to help Jason relax, feel better, and work out if he needed to sicc the Sam-Tucker combo on Bruce Wayne’s social media. 

… 

Who was he kidding. Of course they’d be setting Sam and Tucker on the guy, as soon as Jason gave the green light. 

Jason had never exactly gotten all the way through the explicit details of how Bruce had fucked up this afternoon, beyond just siccing Constantine on Jason, but honestly? 

He didn’t have to. Jason had been almost tangibly frustrated from the minute he rolled up to Danny’s dorms, though he was gonna shoot Tucker a thank you for his little “revenge”, since it had cheered the guy up right away. 

Danny was totally not considering a little spectral revenge for himself too. Mostly because Batman would probably know all about ghosts by now, and probably had Constantine doing his spectral condom act all over the cave. 

But it wasn’t like Bruce liked Danny anyway, so really, what did he have to lose? Not like Jason hadn’t already shown whose side he came out on on this one. 

Danny didn’t exactly know what having over protective parents was like, but Jason could not be more clear that he didn’t appreciate Bruce’s interference. There was clearly a lot going on with those two, and while they’d already talked about Jason’s death and technically he had permission… 

Well, Danny didn’t wanna push. Ask literally any ghost, dying could leave you with a whole stack of issues. Jason wasn’t even close to the most homicidal Danny had met. 

That poisonous rage, though… Danny pushed it from his mind. It didn’t matter, wouldn’t matter, Frostbite said Jason was doing well and Pitty would be out of him soon. 

… 

Maybe, just maybe Danny was also starting to worry what that might mean, since it sent Jason into a full panic attack and he’d seen what the rage was like when fully under control. 

Maybe they’d bump up the schedule on taking care of those Lazarus pits. Get that Obsession dealt with, see if it calmed things down. 

Yet another thing Danny would have to talk to Clockwork about, and was his irritatingly omnipresent mentor anywhere to be found? Of course not. 

Which probably meant this wasn’t a timeline threatening problem. Yet.

What a comfort. 

Which left them flying home through the Zone, and Danny totally wasn’t overthinking literally everything. He was being considerate, quiet, giving Jason time to process everything they’d seen that day. 

Maybe himself too. Just a little. But it wasn’t like Jason was hurrying to start a conversation, and they both had a lot on their minds. It was a good, comfortable silence. 

They had nearly reached his preferred portal spot too, so today’s quick trip to the Ghost Zone was nearly over, unless Danny actually wanted to go Clockwork-hunting… which, while probably less emotionally fraught, wasn’t likely to go great. 

(Realms geography could be more than just hinky; they were infinite after all, so he tended to open portals back out in the same place he’d previously opened a portal from the living world in. It seemed to help, and he didn’t usually wind up in the wrong dimension that way. 

Especially if there was a nearby, powerful anchor.

Going searching up and down the whole ass Zone for the Ever Moving Now? Yeah, that’d fuck his portal plans right up.) 

Danny could feel a steady building trepidation rising in Jason like the tide, but he had no idea what the hell to do about it. Back there in the world were Bruce and Constantine, and all the problems that kept Jason balanced precariously on a knife edge. 

Here in the Realms, all the problems were new and interesting and could almost all be solved by punching, which really suited both of them. Danny would have been tempted to suggest that sidebar to see Ghost Writer, but it was late, he had school in the morning, and his super handy time manipulating mentor was being a dick and wasn’t here. 

A couple years ago, he’d have said fuck it and gone on the sidebar anyway, and probably not slept all night to help his friend. And had Jazz harping in his ear about “developing bodies”, “needing his sleep”, and “this is why you haven’t had a growth spurt since you were fourteen”. 

Which totally wasn’t a valid argument or at all what had made him start taking care of himself. He just… well, he just actually really fucking liked his classes these days. 

Against all the odds, Danny Fenton had gotten into a prestigious college, into an engineering program that actually let him stretch his talents. And take apart old or broken lab equipment from the other buildings for fun and profit. 

And if he hadn’t slept the night before, they didn’t let him use the welding torch. Danny was pretty sure Clockwork might be behind that, since they somehow always knew. 

Maybe that was how Nocturn was already betraying him… conspiring with Clockwork to make Danny sleep more and absorb his power? 

Danny considered that seriously for about half a second before discarding it. Sure, Nocturn was the King of Sleep and an ancient, but he was also a canny motherfucker and not likely to mess up badly enough to accidentally become King of the Infinite Realms too. 

For all that he wanted power, fucking no one wanted to deal with the Observants. Danny had practically begged. 

It wasn’t like they had to go back to Gotham and then immediately straight to bed though. Just, y’know, something that wouldn’t take hours and hours. There had to be something they could do in the city that wouldn’t keep them up all night, but would keep Bruce Wayne off their asses. 

Unless Jason had shit to do. Danny… kinda hadn’t asked. The only plans he’d known about for the day was busting out Waylon, and then the potential trip to Frostbite. 

Maybe he hadn’t meant for it to go so late? Maybe Danny should ask? 

Maybe Jason was getting sick of him. 

Maybe Jason was getting a little too good at reading auras, since that thought barely settled in before he broke the silence. 

“What the fuck?” 

And alright, that might also have been a coincidence Danny decided, brows furrowing as he looked for what had caught Jason’s attention. 

It all looked normal up ahead to him. Bright green zone, a couple purple islands (was that the ghost of a Bat Burger? Maybe they should check this place out more), the haze of black smog that always surrounded… 

Ah. 

Yeah, they hadn’t really had that conversation yet, though Danny had meant to bring it up on the way home. Riiiight up until all that overthinking started.

Guess that made this introduction time. Sort of put a stop to wondering how to cheer Jason up… although depending on how Jason felt, it might just be a distraction. 

Danny pulled to a stop, Jason coming in close before stopping alongside him, just in front like he might need to protect Danny from something. 

Or like he overshot the stopping. Could be either, really. But Danny had a feeling it was at least a combo. He and Jason were just too alike, but it looked almost automatic. Vigilante training, and Danny’d bust his ass later about treating him like a civilian. 

Jason was the civilian here, and his citizen. 

He cleared his throat, wondering how exactly to go about this, since ghosts didn’t have an introduction protocol that wasn’t “throw down”. And spent about half a second wondering if that was actually on the table before deciding against it. 

Sure, most ghost introductions involved a friendly punch up, but Lady Gotham had always been a little different. And this wasn’t exactly your standard “new ghost who dis”. 

“Right, yeah… we didn’t see her last time we were in the Zone. Jason, this is-” 

“You think my own boy wouldn’t know me, Phantom?” 

The voice came from all around them, low and dark and smokey sweet like molten chocolate with just a hint of whiskey. Jason stiffened and glared around harder, conscious caution battling with the sudden wave of relief from his core. 

She spun herself from the smog of the city, like she always had. A tall, curvaceous woman built to Jack Fenton proportions, easily seven feet tall with dark mahogany skin and pitch black lipstick, perfect black hair coiled tight into an afro about her head. Smoky black makeup lined her eyes and caressed high, generous cheekbones in a line of clouds. 

Long black gloves covered her hands and arms, one of which was held across her body, hand cupping the elbow of her other arm while the other held what probably was a full sized orange traffic cone like it was a cigarette holder. It looked wrong clasped in her hand, scale thrown off by her size. A thin plume of white smoke even spiralled from the wider end. 

She wore a short flapper dress covered in layers of tassels, each of which flashed with beads of jet all along the length except for the last bead on a scattering of the strands, which were large, blood flecked pearls. Below the end of the skirt, her legs were lost in the spills of black smog surrounding her, though occasionally more flashes of pearl could be seen shifting through the murk. 

It was her eyes that captured all of the attention though as she caught and held Jason’s gaze, a sly smile on those black lips. They glowed yellow from lid to lid, each pupil shaped like a bat. 

The fight dropped out of Jason instantly, jaw dropping. 

And yeah, maybe Danny should have expected that he’d… sort of recognize her? Jason was a Gothamite to the core, had been one of her true defenders since pixie boots were in style… right up until his own death. 

And if Danny read that twitch right, it was costing him an effort not to automatically drop to one knee. So apparently that was just wired into him, and not just a Clockwork-thing. Good to know. 

Her smile spread, showing sharp white teeth dripping with tar. 

“My son,” she purred, her voice filling the air around them and sending almost visible ripples through the ectoplasm of the realms, “it is so good to finally meet you in person.” 

In front of Danny, Jason tensed again. Whatever he’d recognized didn’t quite cut through bat-paranoia, apparently. 

“Danny, who is this?” He asked cautiously, his voice low and not taking his eyes off the twin bat signals pointed at him. 

Lady Gotham sighed heavily, taking a deep pull on her traffic cone and blowing out a billowing plume of smog. She gestured to Danny, who nodded quickly. 

Totally not gonna “I told you so” the city spirit for the city he was living in. King or not, he had some manners. 

“Jason, Lady Gotham. She’s…” he hesitated, not sure how exactly to phrase it. 

Had they talked about city spirits? It felt like they had? But it had been so little time, he wasn’t sure. 

Lady Gotham stepped back in smoothly, shooting Jason a laconic smile and spreading her arms. 

“I am exactly what it sounds like. The beating heart of the city, born from the well of souls and desperate hopes of those who call it home. Every shadow in the alley, every gargoyle you shelter under, every parapet that caught your grapple and let you fly…” 

Jason had stopped breathing, which was alright as long as they were in the Zone but might not be later, his eyes tracking desperately over the ghost before them. Her smile softened, becoming fond, tender, her free hand now reaching out towards him. 

“… and you have been mine since the day you were born, Jason Todd.” 

** 

Jason was… 

Jason was. He didn’t know what he was. 

He hadn’t realised just how much noise his heart made thumping until the first time it stopped. Until he’d slammed back to life, heard its drumbeat thudding in his head, every second of every day. 

This felt a little like that. 

Like a sound he’d been hearing all of his life had gone quiet, and then come roaring back in full swing. It was too much, and not enough, and everything he’d missed in Nanda Parbat and around the world when he’d been training, left with only the thudding of his heart. 

The sounds of Gotham. Normal city noises, most of them; the honks and occasional screeches of cars, the buzz of people. And then the screams, gunshots, mad cackling laughter that most cities usually only saw in designated areas. 

And underneath it all, a low, throbbing pulse, a hum in the back of his head that meant he was home. That told him where he was, every street corner or shady alleyway. 

He could navigate the city blindfolded, knew every gargoyle, every running gutter and rusty grate, listening to that beat. That beat that told him it was his place, the one thing that nothing and no one could ever take away from him, not even all the bullshit with the League of Assassins. 

He hadn’t really noticed it going quiet in the Ghost Zone before. Which, y’know, they’d been busy. He’d had a lot on his mind, and… well, it happened any time he left the city. 

Going away with the Outsiders, it didn’t matter if they crossed the bay to Metropolis or went to space, Jason knew when he wasn’t in Gotham. Knew when he woke up in a hospital bed whether or not he was home just from that beat. 

He’d started thinking it might be the city’s ectoplasm, since Danny was so sure that was why he’d risen before. Might have explained why the Zone was a little different; it was all ectoplasm. 

And then he’d looked at this woman made of smog and shadows and smoking a fucking traffic cone, and the beat almost brought him to his knees. 

How could he not know her? They danced every night, her hand in his, guiding his guns, his grapple, cupped gently around the back of his neck and showing him where to look. Hiding him from Oracle’s cameras, pointing him at those who attacked the weak like he was the gun himself. 

Familiar as his own shadow. Constant as gravity. 

And it was that familiarity that pulled at every ounce of Bat training, that unconscious recognition and trust that forced him to doubt. 

Hypnotists were the fucking worst. Magic users were all annoying, but Jason would tangle with any of the rest before dealing with a hypnotist. They were worse than Condiment King and Kite Man combined into some ketchup splattered hell kite. 

And the more something deeper than the Pit whispered that this wasn’t hypnotism, wasn’t an outside influence, was just the deepest part of himself recognising the deepest part of his home, the harder he fought that feeling. 

Until her hand reached for his, and she said his name, and his hand was in hers before he could stop himself. 

Contact was… it was a lot. 

A barrage of sounds, smells, the backs of every alley flashing through his mind as he was bombarded with memories. Memories? Or was that what was happening now? 

Flashes of rooftops, bodies tensed in the shadows, goons working below in blissful ignorance that was about to be shattered. Breaking windows, sprays of bullets or gas or worse, moving and punching and taking down without killing. 

He caught sight of Cass for a brief moment, her shape outlined in glowing shadows that definitely weren’t visible to the men running past her hiding place. But of course they weren’t; that was the point. 

Cass was the perfect shadow anywhere on Earth, her stealth unparalleled by anything but actual magic, but in Gotham? In Gotham the darkness wrapped her in loving arms, held her close, made sure she was never found. 

His baby sister, Gotham’s child even if she’d never been to the city until she was nearly an adult. 

More flashes, Dick flying across an alley in Bludhaven (thankfully in his current suit, not the Discowing, which might mean this was the present? Or just that Jason had been seeing him so much more lately that there were just more memories of him like this?), and that made Jason pause. 

Bludhaven wasn’t Gotham. That was literally the point. That was why Dick lived there. 

And he heard her low chuckle, smoky and soft in his ear. 

*Just across the bay, my dear? No, he would have to go so much farther to be free of me, to stop being mine.*

The voice was warm and fond, soft like crushed velvet and so full of affection and pride it tugged at something in Jason’s core. 

Something from the little boy who’d watched Robin fly through the air and could barely believe he’d touched the same dream. 

Lady Gotham hadn’t moved, her hand still in his in the exact same position, and while he couldn’t see her past the images to know if she’d spoken with mouth or mind he had a feeling he knew. She was in his head, in his heart, and he’d not spoken aloud. 

Before Jason would work out how to reply, if he even wanted to reply, his attention was caught by something else in the cascade of images. 

A dark spot, not in every scene (at least not that he noticed), but often enough. Something that looked like a shadow, but just a fraction deeper than the rest, a fraction darker, that moved when all the shadows around it were still. 

Now that he looked for it he could see it everywhere, the sight of it sending a shiver up his spine that made his hair stand on end. It wasn’t fear; Jason was well acquainted with fear, as little as it bothered him. 

This was… tension, anticipation, recognition, the same thing he’d felt when there hadn’t been an Outsiders mission in a while and Roy had decided to hunt him for sport. Something, someone so familiar, with such a strong place in his life, someone he knew was damn capable, setting their sights on him. 

(It was always play when Roy did it, a game to keep them both on their toes and get a different kind of training in. Jason didn’t know if Roy ever hunted the others; asking felt like cheating somehow.) 

And then suddenly the shadow turned in a different way, its attention locking on to Jason in return and adrenaline shot through him like a bolt of lighting. 

It had to be live. Or the shadow knew when someone saw its image. But it had looked back, raising the hair on the back of his neck until it felt like he’d become a Studio Ghibli character, and it was still looking at him. 

His hands itched for his guns, the All-Blades, the Fright Gun, and he felt the large, hot hand still holding his tighten for just a second, felt Lady Gotham’s chuckle through his whole body like he was a speaker, and then he was looking at her face again, fond and smiling and larger than life. 

“Now now, my sons,” she purred softly, definitely speaking with her mouth this time even if it was just as warm as when he’d heard her in his head, “play nicely.” 

Had she been that tall before? She’d been taller than him, certainly, her hand completely enfolding his the way Bruce’s had when Jason had first come off the streets, but now she loomed almost twice as large. 

Still holding his hand in hers, only now his was positively dainty, a doll’s hand held by the child who adored it. Her thumb was almost the size of his whole hand, brushing gently over the back. 

She could probably snap him in half in an instant. 

He’d probably let her. 

Her smile spread, reacting to the thought, and her other huge hand came up to gently cup his face, all the pride and love he’d only ever seen from Catherine Todd before. 

“My brave little knight…” her eyes closed for a moment and she sucked in a deep breath, her whole body gently expanding as she savoured… something. Then those signal eyes opened and fixed on him, full of lazy satisfaction. “Your belief is so sweet.” 

The effect was somewhat spoiled by the traffic cone now pinched effortlessly between two fingers. It hadn’t changed size, which Jason supposed had to be his answer. 

She totally wasn’t that big before. And apparently it was his fault? His… belief? 

Danny was hovering in the more figurative, mother hen way now (literal not being optional at the moment), and Jason could feel his tension now that he was focused. He’d gotten closer, his aura putting him just behind Jason’s shoulder, but hadn’t gone further.  

Not moving between them, which he already had the feeling would have been Danny’s preference after the gala. Jason would tease him about that if he hadn’t already put himself between the stranger and Danny without thinking. At least Danny hadn’t actually done it. 

Whether that was because they weren’t in any danger or Danny was waiting for his go ahead didn’t actually matter; Jason couldn’t quite believe either of them would walk away from a fight with Lady Gotham no matter that Danny was the king. 

A part of him deeper than the pit knew that she would never fight him. That it was his job to fight for her, to make sure she never dirtied her hands more than the streets already did. 

Forcing himself to suck in a breath - and wondering why his lungs ached - Jason gave her hand a hesitant squeeze. Tried not to think about how ludicrously small his hand was tucked into the curl of her fingers. 

“Uh… I’d say it’s nice to meet you, but…” he paused, words failing him, and wondered how the actual fuck you were supposed to talk to a whole ass city’s soul all at once. 

Lady Gotham laughed softly, giving his cheek (and consequently whole damn head) a gentle pat before pulling away, leaning back to sit as if in an invisible chair and regard him. 

“But we’ve known each other from the day you were born,” she agreed gently, her voice still heartbreakingly warm. 

No one had ever been so open in their love for him. It all but coloured the air in a rosy pink. 

And alright, that was probably at least 90% because his family were in constant contest for Most Emotionally Constipated Soul On Earth and Alfred was British, but Jason still had no idea how to handle it. He had her full, undivided attention, which part of him knew he’d never had in the physical city. 

She had so many protectors watching over her, even the crankiest parts of Jason couldn’t begrudge her that. He wasn’t exactly sure he was enjoying it now. 

“Ask,” she said softly, gently, the word still echoing around them but in a way that suddenly seemed more enclosed. More private. The echo of a bathroom instead of a grand cavern. 

Sucking in another deep breath, Jason realized he had about a thousand questions. But he had to start with the most pressing. 

“That shadow, what was it? It was… following the others, all of them. And you called it your son?” 

She’d called him her son too, and for the first time since he’d died the word didn’t rankle. But that could be the next question. 

The smile she gave him was blatantly approving and she waved a hand gently, a patch of smog in her surrounding cloud suddenly taking on a darker, more solid shape. It wasn’t the shadow itself, there was none of the buzzing adrenaline or life in its movements. Just a facsimile. 

He still kind of wanted the All-Blades. Just, y’know, for evil testing. 

“Yes, your… brother,” Lady Gotham said slowly, rolling the word over her lips as if tasting it. “That is the Curse of Gotham. Older than the city itself, technically, but before more people came it was simply a malevolence on a patch of land.” 

She waved a hand, dispelling the temporarily solidified smog easily. 

“It was only once the city was founded, then filled with souls and then despair and superstition and belief that he became a true Curse. As you are mine, the rogues are his. Bearing his mark, flying his flag, putting fear and doubt into every soul as they huddle against the chaos and swear to each other that there is a darkness here like no other.” 

Somehow, this did not endear Jason to his “brother”. It didn’t please Danny either, who leaned just a little into Jason’s shoulder, a sudden wariness pinging through his aura. 

“Wait, so the curse is older than you? Then why are you…” he trailed off, cheeks flushing suddenly as he asked what Jason was pretty sure was the least important question. 

Gotham bestowed him with a gentle, somewhat less fond smile too. Favouritism where he was the favourite kinda make Jason’s skin buzz. 

“As I said, it was the city which gave him form. Land can hold a myriad of curses, and any city built here would certainly have felt his affects. But belief…” she paused for a moment, lips pursing as she considered her next words. 

Yellow eyes flicked back towards Jason, measuring him, and her smile spread into something distinctly self satisfied. 

“Belief matters, for the Neverborn. It’s food and drink, our lifeblood, a source of power. And people believed in Gotham long before they made more than jokes about the curse. No one says that Gotham is on cursed land; they speak of Gotham’s Curse. And so he is mine.” 

Jason got the distinct impression that while everything was well established now, it had been more touch and go at one point… close enough that having won was still a point of pride. He didn’t even realize he was smiling back. 

It was also probably what she’d meant before… when she’d grown. His belief fed her. Which… kinda meant that him thinking they couldn’t possibly win a fight was a self fulfilling prophecy. 

Not quite sure if that was funny or worrying, Jason dismissed the thought and refocused. Some curse was still stalking his family after all, and probably him when he went back to the living world. 

“So if this Curse owns all the rogues… is he going to try and hurt the others?” He asked cautiously. Because if none of this was new, the Curse had been stalking them all since they put on the cowls. 

How many close calls… 

No. Jason hadn’t been in Gotham when Joker got him. He’d thought it was the arrogance of youth that had made him feel invulnerable in Gotham as a Robin, but now he knew there really had been hands hovering over him. 

Hands that hadn’t dropped him until he’d left the city. Half the world away and all alone, still sure he was invulnerable… right up until he wasn’t. 

He only realized his attention had been drifting when he snapped back, a large and achingly gentle thumb brushing his cheek. Now bigger than his head, still smelling of the smog of the city. 

Lady Gotham smiled gently, the dark bats in her eyes crinkling. 

“He is no danger to you,” she told him softly, focusing on the question that was asked. Not his wandering thoughts, though he got the feeling she knew anyway. 

Drawing back, she looked thoughtfully from him to Danny, taking another drag on her traffic cone, apparently thinking. Held the smogs in for a long moment, until she seemed to come to a conclusion and blew out a long stream. 

“The Curse makes the rogues; takes those already on the edge of something bad, and pushes them over. Turns the stagnation of despair into frantic, violent action. It is what he is, what he does… a lingering rot land deep, which feeds on the darkness and breeds more in the souls of Gotham’s inhabitants.” 

That definitely sounded like something dangerous to Jason, but who was he to interrupt Gotham herself? A sidelong glance made him wonder if she’d caught that thought too; just how well could she read him? 

She waved the smouldering traffic cone in his general direction, blanketing him in a wave of almost comforting black smog. 

“And yet, you notice, so few of the rogues seek to  permanently remove any of your heroes from the board?” 

Danny sucked in a sharp breath beside him, Jason’s heart clenched, but before either could protest, Lady Gotham gave a heavy sigh and inclined her head, smile slipping entirely for the first time. 

“The Joker is an unfortunate exception. There is… something worse there, deeper, darker, but I will explain later. For now, consider the others. So many who could, so many chances that they could have taken to kill each of you. I would not allow it, of course, yet even those who wish to see Batman permanently defeated rarely even try to end his life. It is not for no reason.” 

There was a true solemnity, almost pain in her face as she spoke of the Joker, eyes fixed on Jason and full of sorrow. Yet nothing in her aura, no push of regret-sadness or anything similar. Nothing to affect his own emotions, and Jason had the feeling that that was deliberate. 

As if she knew how much he hated being controlled, pushed around. Or she just… didn’t want to do that to him. It was tough to say, but he was also self aware enough to know he was puzzling that out rather than thinking much about her words. 

Of course the Joker was something worse than the fucking Curse of Gotham. Naturally. And y’know what else he was? 

Not Jason’s fucking problem right now. 

Lady Gotham had paused with him, waiting for his acknowledgment apparently, and Jason gave a stiff nod for her to continue. He’d asked the damn question. He needed to focus on the answer. 

A gentle incline of her head the only sign she’d seen anything at all, Lady Gotham continued. 

“The Curse will not harm your family, and nor do most of the rogues seek to actually remove you, because your family’s activities are integral to powering the Curse,” she said simply, and that snapped any fragments of Jason’s attention firmly back into place as he stiffened. 

Danny tensed beside him as well, still hanging back, but it was Jason who spoke. He didn’t need help on this one. 

“Wait, what? How the hell are we helping the Curse?!” He demanded, brows furrowing. 

If the Curse made the rogues by taking people on the edge and throwing them off, sure, that kinda made sense. Gotham had always been a cesspit of crime, but it used to be at least 85% less brightly spandex coloured before the Bat came along. 

Much as Jason didn’t think Bruce took his mission far enough, he could admit that at least the “normal” gang violence had died down significantly. For one thing, most of the old gangs had been driven out by the rogues, or absorbed by converts like Penguin and Black Mask. There wasn’t much space in Gotham these days for just run-of-the-mill crime. 

And Jason himself had gouged a chunk out of what was left, which he used to find extremely satisfying… but how would that help the Curse? Unless… the Curse had pushed that darkness in him…

Lady Gotham shook her head, that fond smile curling sadly at her lips as she reached down to gently tip his chin up with a massive finger. 

“No, my dear… you are not helping the Curse. He could no longer exist without you,” she explained softly, the dark and dusty smogs building heavily around them. Just seeing them made Jason’s throat itch… 

He clenched his jaw shut, focusing on her face instead. Waiting for that to make some fucking sense. 

Lady Gotham hummed thoughtfully, holding his chin a moment longer before releasing him, waving a hand vaguely through the smoggy air. 

“It is… contrast. There are no shadows without the light, no sweet without bitterness, no… no hope without despair. And no despair without hope.” She seemed pleased with the metaphor, bat signal eyes bright in suddenly building gloom. Which then fixed on him. 

“When people lose hope… when they give up on Gotham, accept the awfulness in their lives as mundane, it drains them of their will, their power to believe. If nothing fights the Curse, pushes back on the tides of corruption, then who’s to say there is a curse at all? Just mundane bad governance. Certainly nothing unique about that, in this world.” 

A hand cut through thick black clouds and Jason realized abruptly that he’d lost sight of everything but her eyes, shining in the darkness. And then the shadows spiralled in front of him, whipped by her fingers into a familiar black silhouette. 

“But the Bats… the birds, all of Gotham’s caped defenders? No other city in the world could fail to be safe under your constant attentions. No other city could take the stream of wealth and charity Bruce Wayne pours into it and be less than utopian. And yet Gotham remains, a far better city than the one you were born in, but still one of the most dangerous places to live in this country.” 

The shadowy bat began to glow, lined in a bright golden light, yet somehow it only made the surrounding shadows all the darker. It swished its cape, striking at invisible foes, and the clouds curled in around it. 

“What else but a curse could cause this? And what a powerful curse it must be, with a new vigilante showing every month, and still not a dent?” 

The blackness around them grew darker still, the bat’s glow suddenly seeming weak and fragile. Jason’s chest lurched, his heart screaming to reach out and catch the faltering figure, pull it close and keep it safe, but he stamped it down. 

It wasn’t Bruce in danger. It was just a light-show, a visual demonstration. And it sure as hell didn’t need his protection. 

And then a skewer of pure blackness plunged through its heart and the golden glow winked out, leaving them in pitch darkness. 

Jason’s heart clenched, a dread chill running down his spine and he spun around, searching for Lady Gotham and her searchlight eyes, but he couldn’t see anything. Not even Danny, who always glowed faintly in his ghost form. 

Still, her voice continued, completely calm and unshakeable. 

“If the symbol falls… if the Bat is broken, the Curse will gain a great deal of power for a day. Perhaps a generation. And then people will forget, and forget that they believed, and it will wane once again. A much worse loss, now that he knows the power he can have.” 

The billowing clouds of darkness pulled back and the glowing green of the Ghost Zone almost made Jason shield his eyes. They hadn’t moved, of course they hadn’t; Danny was still right beside him, his aura a heavy throb of new understanding-exasperated-mildly amuse.  

Which… well, yeah, now that he could breathe again Jason could admit it had all been pretty dramatic. If she was his first ghost, he’d have assumed it was just a Gotham thing, but Danny was also a dramatic little shit, so. 

Sucking in a deep breath, Jason blew it out slowly, calming the beating of his heart. Lady Gotham looked quite pleased with herself, still sat reclined a little ways away. 

It was one hell of a powerpoint, and he was pretty sure he’d got the gist of things. Not that it made any of this make sense, but it was pretty much what he’d expect from magic. 

“So… the Curse makes the rogues, to make people think the city is cursed, but it also wants to keep the vigilantes safe…” a phrase from an old book tugged at his mind, and Jason couldn’t resist a slight smile, “because you gain status by the quality of your enemies?” 

It startled a short laugh from Danny, quickly stifled as Lady Gotham beamed her approval. 

“In essence, yes. The struggle will be unending, because it must be, but we have come to… an understanding of late. Despair and death feed my Curse in the immediate sense, but when both are only to be expected… it’s a paltry meal. There is inevitability, even boredom, when it’s all despair all the time. So now the city has hope, and I prosper.” 

Lady Gotham preened, plumping up her perfectly round curls, the same self satisfied smile she’d had when mentioning how she had become the dominant spirit. Maybe the Curse hadn’t quite worked out just how much she got out of their little understanding too. Then she shrugged. 

“And the rogues have their little obsessions, their tricks and games, and sometimes there is despair and sometimes there is death. But what matters is that you are there to fight against it, to nobly win the battle…” 

“Even if we’ll never win the war,” Jason finished grimly, his mood souring. 

Wasn’t that what he’d always told Bruce? That his damn rules, his “No Killing” standard meant that everything else he did was pointless? That just locking people up in the bloody sieve that was Arkham was never going to change anything? 

Lady Gotham’s smile softened to something bittersweet and sad, and she nodded gently. 

“Gotham city will never know peace, Jason,” she told him gently, and suddenly she was smaller again, scant feet taller than him, and holding out a hand he’d be able to close his own around. “It will never be like any other city. But the only reason I stand at all is because people like you will look at this city, with its soot and its smuts and its people who have nowhere else to go, and decide that it is worth fighting for.” 

Those eyes were fixed on him again, black bats on yellow lights, and then suddenly… suddenly the irises were black, and the bats a familiar deep red. It might have been a blink; it might just have been that sharp moment of change. 

“There is one way that the war will end,” she told him softly, stepping closer through the void until he could have counted the pearls skittering across her dress, and every jet bead around them, if he could have looked away from her face. 

“On the day that those heroes turn away, that all else give up on Gotham and turn their backs. When no one stands against the tide of night and it is dragged down and away into the dark heart of the Cursed land beneath. It is only hope that stands in the way of that end, my Jason Todd… my Robin.” 

His brow furrowed and a fleeting smirk dashed across her lips, the faintest flicker of her gaze to Danny beside him, and Jason understood. It wasn’t Robin’s colours in her eyes, no matter what Damian had done to the suit. 

Her Red Hood. 

But she wouldn’t out him to Danny, not even now. 

His gaze fell to her hand again, suddenly bare and dark and open and nails that were a rich, bloody red. His blood, and Bruce’s, and every vigilante, and every citizen, and every rogue that stood, and fought, and died for her. Every life that was ruined or ended, all in this fight that could never be won, only lost. 

He met her gaze again, felt the red bat he’d emblazoned across his chest once more pierce his soul. 

Because… this was what it really meant, to wear the bat. Not just that he had forgiven Bruce, that they’d reconciled, that he’d rejoined the family. That he wasn’t going to kill unless he had to, and there was no other choice. 

No. 

He wore the bat because he wasn’t just the Red Hood, a name he’d stolen from the damn clown and carved across the city in blood until people only thought of him when they said it. He wasn’t the crime lord who’d filled a bag with the heads of his rivals’ best lieutenants, took Crime Alley in a bloody fist, and was just another gang leader. Just a bigger, scarier, nastier guy than the people who’d wanted that alley before to strip mine its people and poison its kids. 

And sure, being that guy had worked. It kept the worse gangs out. Kept his street kids fed and occupied, and mostly out of jail. Did what all of Bruce’s crusade had never managed to do; he’d cleaned up Crime Alley. 

And it hadn’t been enough. 

Hadn’t made anyone feel safe; not when all they had was Red Hood’s whim that kept them from going right back to the mess they’d been left in. 

The Alley was different too, this last year. He’d always tried, as Hood and Jason. Wanted people to come together, build a community, to feel safe in their home and protect it. 

To feel like someone finally, actually cared about them. That someone cared about Crime Alley for its people, not what they could take from them. That they would be defended. 

And people had played along, back before he took the bat. They’d come out, cleaned up the street, fixed up some store fronts and made careful conversation, because that was what you did when the man with the big guns said he wanted you to play nice.

And they’d been wary, cautious, watching the Hood like he’d snap at any second no matter what Jay told them. And he’d known they were just… humouring him. Didn’t believe in it. And he’d thought the only way to get them to see was to keep going, keep giving back until they realized he really meant it all.

He’d patrolled since the first day he’d come back, but it had been the day he’d gone out in his modified uniform, the red bat on his chest, that things finally changed. 

His working girls and boys didn’t straighten up when he approached. The street kids didn’t run when his shadow passed overhead. People looked up into the night and they smiled, thanked him, reached out to the gang and left little red bat signs in their windows. 

With the red helmet and black body armour, he’d been just another thug to fear. And oh, he’d fucking hated it at first, turned his vision to sickly green that all this acceptance only came with B’s goddamn bat on his chest. 

When the kids tagged it on walls, dumpsters, taunting threats at the edge of their territory to every other gang in Gotham, they finally had a bat-approved protector. 

Never enough that he’d taken the bat off, though, and now he could see what all those little signs really said. 

“We have a protector too.” 

“Someone will find justice for us.” 

And, his personal favourite (love those little Alley bastards), “Our bat’s bigger than yours.” 

Bruce had put the shape on the symbol when he became the night and wanted to drive fear into the hearts of criminals instead of the ordinary citizens, but it wasn’t really his. It was Superman’s S, the symbol of the House of El, the symbol of Lady Gotham turned to something humans could see. 

The symbol of a protector, a guardian, and uniquely Gotham’s own. 

It was all there, in those red on black eyes, in that soft, knowing smile. 

“Have you ever backed down from a fight just because you knew you couldn’t win, Jason Todd?” She asked softly, so softly, and he had to smile back. 

She’d known him since the day he was born, and there was only one thing he could say to that.  

He took her hand. 

“Never.” 

——————

LISTEN Y’ALL I HAVE BEEN HOLDING THIS LADY GOTHAM REVEAL SO CLOSE TO THE CHEST.

HER DRESS. HER HAIR. HER GODDAMN TRAFFIC CONE! Anyway she’s wonderful and she’s perfect and she will be back next chapter too, but fuck knows when that will be, so! Hopefully a little less time than this last one, but We Shall See.

This chappy will go up on AO3 tomorrow, I usually try and do same day but I gotta be up early Yet Again and I still…. Haven’t done replies on the last one, so 😅

Wish me luck for the next chapter, I have SO MANY things planned and the outline is just sizzling and we are finally out of introductions territory and it’ll be time for the Plot! Ah, my beloved plot, which will hopefully pick up and speed things along a little more in-fic timewise…

Next Chapter:

Tag List: @welcometosasakiworld @someonebored0100 @stealingyourbones @starkcravingmad @frostedthroughghost @akikkobara @rainbowbunny0159 @littlefeather345 @violet-catsarelife @serasvictoria02 @wolfjackle @blacksea21090 @secretdestinywerewolf f @anime-hipster-the-amazing @undead-essence @skitscratched @blackroserelina @snoodly-boop @mayoota-blog @xysidhe @little-apricot-the-writer @chaoticmistake e @the-legal-shipper @bun-fish h @aroranorth-west @demon-cat-goes-woof f @perfectwastelandcreation @onyxlightdragon @larks-and-katydids @peachesandcreamfemboy @jesus-camp-the-sequel @may-rbi @mothman-the-mothman87 @viyatrix @stargirl1331 @idfk-man10 @thedepressedrobin @skulld3mort-1fan @rootsmudge @ravenshadow17 @cankoking @phantom-dc @mentalcarebear @magic-pincushion @redamancyardor @lyra689 9 @itsparadoxlacuna @alcorbearson @asphyxia778 @why-must-i-be-like-this s @tkiesai @greenpyrowolf @frivolous-pastel @honeysuckletook @adorkable1291

#dp x dc #dpxdc #dc x dp #dcxdp #danny fenton dead and loving it #chapter 17 part 2 #well you did get down on one knee #AND HE’LL DO IT AGAIN #jason 10000% has a worship kink he really just wants to worship someone #danny meanwhile is just a lil freak and i love that for him

[miniwheat77]

Bunny. (Dark!141 x Reader)

!CW! NSFW, Smut, Gang bang, 141 being creepy and dark, Virgin!reader, reader being innocent, oral sex (m&f receiving), coercion, drugs & alcohol, roofies, double penetration, unprotected sex, pure filth. (Sorry if I missed any.)

*Not edited well*

GET A WATER BEFORE YOU READ 🥵

You were excited to be chosen to be apart of Task Force 141.

You felt special because you know only the most skilled are chosen for the team.

Your first few weeks on the base was awesome. It was pretty hands on, missions every week. There was always something around every corner, but once Hassan had been eliminated, there wasn’t much to do other than your chores around the base. You did your fair share of research but there weren’t any new leads on the next target. It was boring and most of your time you spent inside your room on base.

You noticed that everyone was pretty quiet on base. They didn’t do much talking and they seemed to have this dark look in their eyes when they looked at you.

You ignored it and always made conversation with them anyways, not wanting any tension between you. You noticed sometimes they made jokes about you right in front of you, mostly about how innocent you are. You didn’t like that they made fun of you, but you always just laughed it off.

You did your best at being patient with them.

Sometimes you didn’t like what they had to say about other women on base or had previously been on it with them. They usually said pretty derogatory insults. Or gross ones you didn’t want to cause any trouble so you stayed quiet, usually just excusing yourself from the table. You didn’t want to hear it.

You sat at your desk in your assigned room. It was quiet. You were looking through a stack of paper, looking for any leads on a next target. A knock at your door brought you out of your thoughts, turning to look at the door. “Come in!” You called.

“Hey. We’re playing a drinking game. You want to play?” Gaz asks. “Uh.. I don’t know about that.” You laugh. Knowing that something like this probably wouldn’t go too well. He crosses his arms. “Oh come on.. don’t be such a prude.” He rolls his eyes. You sigh. You had a bad feeling about this. He continues to pressure you for a few minutes before you finally cave in. “Alright fine.” You stand up from your desk, following him out.

Everyone is already waiting. They have everything laid out on the table. It’s the large oak table in the meeting room. They’re all sitting around it. “Alright. We’re starting with one on one. You and Ghost will go against each other first.” You look confused. “Just so you’ll get used to it, yeah? You have to throw the penny into the shot glass while blindfolded, if you don’t make it, you have to drink. Whoever drinks all 5 shots first loses.” You nod your head. They pass you a blindfold, Gaz helps you tie it behind your head. The small shot glasses are lined up in front of you.

You don’t see that they never put a blindfold on Ghost.

Ghost takes the tiny vial of white crushed powder out of his pocket, he’d come prepared. This had been planned out for some time.

He taps the vial until it’s empty into the first shot glass, allowing you to go first. You miss the first shot, and they pass you the shot glass. Evil smiles playing at their lips. You had no idea what was about to happen. You tip it back, flinching at the taste of the liquor as it burns your throat. You miss all 5 of your shots and somehow, Ghost doesn’t miss one. You’re 5 shots in, feeling out of it. They catch up a little bit, taking shots here or there just to give themselves a little bit of liquid courage. “So. How long have you been in the military?” Soap asks. You smile. “Few years.” Your words are slurred and you’re almost exactly where they want you. “Yeah? You were on bases before this obviously. Got a favorite?” He asks. “Not really. Aside from this one.” You shrug. “Yeah?” He smirks. “You a barracks bunny Y/N?” He asks. “What’s that?” You ask, confused.

He laughs, he just can’t help it. “So innocent..” he mumbles. “It’s a girl who has sex with everyone on base.” He smirks. Your eyes go wide. “Oh.. no. No I’m not.”

“Hey, I’m not judging.” He laughs. “I’m not a… barracks bunny.” Your cheeks are on fire. “I’m just fucking with you darling, relax.” He places his hand on your thigh. “Here. Drink more. Loosen up.” You start to notice the amount of pressure they’re putting on you. “I don’t know. I think I’m done.” You laugh nervously. “Oh come on. Don’t be such a buzz kill.” He rolls his eyes. He convinces you to take another few shots, your face is hot and the heat between your legs is becoming too much to bear. You notice they’re passing around a joint.

When they offer it to you, you shake your head. “I don’t really think we should be doing this.” You breathe, going to stand up. You find it’s pretty hard to move. “All is good here. It’s my base after all.” Captain Price reassures you. You’re so close to where they need you.

After about an hour of passing around the joint, convincing you to take more and more shots of liquor. You’re ready.

“You ever met a barracks bunny before?” Soap asks. You shrug. “Heard rumors.” You giggle. “Yeah. Must be pretty fun I imagine. I mean.. getting to fuck that much in one day.” He smiles, tipping back a shot. “You ever fucked more than one person in a day Y/N?” He asks. You shake your head shyly. “No.. I’ve never had sex.” You mumble. “Why not?” He asks. “Religious?” He smirks. “Oh no.. it’s nothing to do with that. Just.. never crossed paths with the right person.” You shrug. “I was always bullied for being ugly in school too so..” you laugh. “Really?” Gaz gathers your attention. You nod your head. “Jesus.. that’s fucked up. And not true, you’re stunning.” He smiles, resting his hand on your thigh. “Oh.. thank you.” You smile. “Yeah, I’d fuck you.”

Your cheeks burn and you avoid his gaze. “Yeah I’d fuck you too.” Soap winks. You laugh, looking away from them. “Maybe you should let us.” Gaz lifts your chin to make you look at him. “W-what?” You ask. “Yeah. Maybe you could be our little barracks bunny hm?” He smiles. “I… I don’t know about that.” You breathe. “Oh come on.. we’ll take good care of you sweetheart. Nothing to worry about.” He moves himself closer to you. “I just.. I don’t know. I thought maybe I’d start slow for my first time.”

“We can start slow. Come on.” He tilts his head. You take in a deep breath as he takes your hand, helping you up. “Gaz.. I’m really not sure about this.” You swallow hard, your words are unstable and you’re unsteady on your feet as he lifts you up onto the wooden table. “Hey. Just relax alright?” He brushes your hair back behind your ear. You’re so far gone you can barely think straight. “Nothing to worry about. We’ll be real gentle with you.” He pushes you back by your chest gently. You’re tense as he reaches for the waistband of your pants. You can’t help but like the attention you’re getting from them. Maybe it’s the weed or liquor. Your blood feels hot in your veins, body warm and fuzzy as they surround you. “Fuck.. look at you.” Ghost mumbles. Running his fingers down your chest. You look up at him, the sweet look in your eyes has his stomach curling. It’s almost as if you have no idea what they’re about to do to you. The filthy things running through their heads, about to play out like a film.

“So pretty. Such a good girl.” Ghost mumbles. You close your eyes, biting your lip lightly as you relax into the table. He grasps the hem of your shirt, pulling it up and over your head.

You’ll be the perfect bunny after this.

Gaz has your panties at your ankles and they’re drooling, like a pack of wild dogs. “Captain. She was your idea, get in here.” Gaz nods at his Captain.

John smiles, moving between Soap and Gaz. He moves himself up until his clothed crotch is pressed up against your bare pussy. He sighs. Running his hand over your chin. “You are pure sin my darling. So fucking pretty.” He breathes. He slides a finger into your mouth and you take it, sucking gently at it. He groans out. He pulls away from you, Unzipping his pants just enough to where he can free his cock. "Are you ready darling?" He asks. His cock is standing at attention. The tip is blushing red. Begging for release. He's huge. You don't know how he's supposed to fit. You're looking up at him, he can tell you're nervous. "It's alright. Relax for me okay?" You nod your head, resting on your arms.

Not only are you about to give your virginity to your captain, but your entire task force is watching. Waiting to be next up. A whimper leaves your lips when he glides his tip up through your folds. You’re dizzy, everything feels fuzzy.

Your reaction speed is off, only feeling the tightness from his cock after he’s already buried himself inside of you. You shift uncomfortably, whimpering and trying to slide your hips away from him. “Hey. You’ll get used to me. Calm down.” He soothes. He holds your hips steady. Another whine leaves your lips, tears filling up your eyes. Ghost is quick to soothe you, helping you lay back on the table. Soap is running his fingertips over your stomach, soothing your skin. Ghost cups your face, his warm breath on your face distracts you from the tearing you feel from your Captains massive cock. You weren’t ready but you would be. “Shhh. S’alright. Should start to feel good soon.” Ghost mumbles, kissing your tears away.

They’re evil. Devils standing around you, waiting to devour you whole. They’d had this planned from the start. They planned it all out. What they’d do to you, how they’d get you to give into them.

You’re starting to pant, your legs are numb but you can feel the pleasure of him sliding into your pussy. “Cmon, prop yourself up.” Ghost helps you. “Watch him. Watch him fuck your pussy.” You gasp out, clutching at the sides of the table as you see it. He’s slid his shirt up over his hips, and you can get a good look at the way he slides into you. Hands gripping at your hips. It’s intense. You tilt your head back, moaning out. Your brain is a blur, all you can think about is how good he feels. You wince when you feel something building, pushing your hips into him more. “F-feels weird.” You whimper. “S’alright. Just get used to it.” You whimper, holding yourself steady so that he can get the perfect angle. “Feels.. it feels- ah!” You cry out.

You soak your Captain’s jeans, and his eyes are wide.

You’re panting, pulling away from him. “I.. I’m sorry.” You whimper. He grasps your thighs, pulling you back down. “Fuck.. didn’t know you could do that.” He breathes.

Their eyes are blown wide with lust, cocks throbbing behind cargo pants and jeans. They all want a piece of you. They all want to make you squirt on them.

“Didn’t take long to make her do that Cap.” Gaz laughs. “Course not. I know exactly what girls like her like.” He smiles. You’re looking up at him, a look in your eyes they haven’t seen yet. Your chest is rising and falling with every deep breath you take. “Did you like that baby?” He asks. You nod your head lazily. He smiles, sliding himself back inside of you. Seeing your eyes close. You tilt your head back, moaning out at the way he fills you up. Eyes are burning into you, the tension in the room is thick. John is not as gentle as he was to start, thrusting into you with more force than before. It was clear you were going to be a wreck when they were finished with you. He’s got a tight grip on your thighs, head tilted back as you wrap so tight around him. “Fuck.. so fucking tight-“ he hisses. “Not going to last long with you darling.” He chuckles. You’re gripping the table hard, knuckles turning white. He lifts your legs up onto his shoulders and you cry out as he bottoms out, your lower stomach cramps up slightly from the new angle. “Ah- fuck!” He growls. He pulls out of you, pumping his cock fast with his hand. He pushes your legs apart slightly, finishing on your stomach with a groan. You tilt your head back, panting out. “Did so good.” Ghost mumbles, brushing your hair out of your face.

“Sit up.” He breathes. He helps you adjust yourself. You’re propped up on your hands and knees. Feet hooking over the edge of the table, ass on display for them all to see. “W-what now?” You breathe. “Just going to get you ready darling. Calm down.” He rests his gloved hand onto your back. He’s trying to soothe you. You hear what sounds like a cap clicking shut, turning to see Ghost putting lube on his aching cock. He’s massive.

Thank god your Captain stretched you a little bit.

“Cmere.” Ghost pulls you back into him. Pushing your back down until you’re low enough to be lined up with his cock. You feel him nudging at your ass, jumping away from him. Your reaction time is slow. “I- woah. I don’t think I’m ready for that-“ you breathe. “It’s okay.” He grasps your hips again, pulling you back. “Be a good girl and be still.”

“Ghost I-“

“Simon.” He growls. “Simon I don’t think I’m ready.” You whimper. “Relax. I won’t hurt you.” He breathes.

You suck in a sharp breath, feeling his bare fingers circling your tight hole, nudging into you deeper with each pump. At least he’d ditched his glove. You flinch away from his touch as he seeps deeper into you. You take in a deep breath. “S’alright. Doing so good lass.” Soap moves next to Simon, circling his fingers over your clit at an attempt to make you relax. It works and you relax into Johnny’s touch, body relaxing slightly. You make it easier on Simon as you relax, his fingers sliding easier into you. The feeling is foreign. It doesn’t hurt and it’s not bad. You relax into him more. Johnny keeps rubbing gentle circles over your clit. You’re a mess already.

You feel Simon’s cock nudging at your entrance and you’re nervous. He’s much bigger than his fingers. A whine leaves your lips when he pushes into you, cock burrowing deeper into your ass. The feeling is too much. You lean forward away from his aching cock, but he follows you with his hips, reaching forward to stop you and hold you still. “Relax into me.” He breathes. “Keep rubbing her clit Johnny.” He spits on the base of his cock, working himself deeper. Johnny does, keeps rubbing gentle circles into your clit so that you’ll relax more. You let out a mewl, the sensation was too much. “Halfway there darling. Just.. a little more.” He breathes. You’re clutching the table, whimpering with each small circle Johnny runs over your entrance. It’s so good. They’re pushing you so much. When your ass finally presses against Simon’s front, he groans out. You’ve taken him all of the way.

You whimper, moving your hips forward and back into his cock. “Oh fuck baby. You want it that bad huh?” He smirks. “Don’t worry. Me n Johnny are gonna fill you up real nice.” He breathes. You can’t say anything, your vision is blurry and you’ve got tears in your eyes but all you know is that whatever this is, it feels amazing. Simon lifts you up off of the table, Johnny moving to your front and grasping hold of you by your thighs. Sliding his cock into your pussy. You straddle Johnny and Simon still had his cock buried inside your ass.

You tilt your head back with a cry, so completely full of them.

Your eyes roll back when they slide out of you, starting to thrust themselves back into you. You’re a mess, can barely stay quiet as they fuck you. “Fuck.. you’re so tight.” Johnny growls. “Been waiting fucking months for this sweet pussy.” He chuckles, teeth gritted. “How does it feel hm?” He mumbles, lips right by your ear. “Went from a body count of 0 to 3 in just a few minutes Hm?” He taunts.

You’re sobbing. Hands are clutching Johnny’s shoulders and your body is shaking. You’ve absolutely soaked them both in your cum, unsure of where you even are anymore. You probably can’t even say your own name at this point. Everything is blurry and fuzzy, you can’t move your body anymore. They’re holding you exactly where they want you. You wrap your arms around Johnny’s neck, laying your head on his shoulder. “Can’t be done yet sweetheart.” He chuckles. “Gaz hasn’t had a go at you yet. You don’t want him to be deprived so you?”

You shake your head, looking over his shoulder at Gaz. He’s pumping his cock, you lock eyes with him. You lick your lips and he nearly cums right there. “Ah- getting tired.” Soap complains. “Here.” Ghost grabs hold of you. Johnny slides out of you and you whimper. “Relax.” Ghost smirks. He lays you onto the table, pushing your face into the cool wood. His hips are hammering against yours, thrusts getting sloppy. He’s close. “Oh yes- fuck I love fucking this tight ass of yours. So fucking good.” He growls. His hand slapping against your ass makes you want to jump forward but you can’t. A whimper leaves your lips, tightening down around Ghost. “Oh fuck- I’m going to cum.” He pants. “Fuck- oh fuck!” He gasps. His hips halt and you gasp, the foreign feeling of something flooding inside of you. You finally raise your head to look at him. His hands resting on your hips. Cock nestled inside of your ass.

He slides out of you, watching his filth spill back out of your hole. He smiles at the work he’d done. Soap is quick to flip you over, burying his cock back inside of you. “Just one more. And than you’re going to treat Kyle very well darling.” He smirks. You nod your head lazily. Johnny pinches your nipples, smiling at the way you cry out. “Fuckin tight pussy baby. Give me one more hm?” He smiles. He rubs circles over your clit with his thumb. A whine leaves your lips and you try to wiggle your hips away from him but he holds you still. You can feel another orgasm building. Right on the edge. You push his hand away from you, running circles over your own clit. You’re going quickly. “Yeah that’s a good girl.” He grips your hips, pounding into you. “You rub that little clit for me. Nice n fucking wet for my cock.” He tilts his head back, swallowing hard. His skin is sweaty and red and he’s right on the edge. Your moans are getting louder and more frequent. Your hand is moving quickly as you rub your clit. “Fuck yes!” He growls. Your eyes roll back, body lurching as you cum again. Soaking him completely. He holds you steady until you’re worn out, sliding out of you and finishing right on your stomach, just like his captain had.

He’s panting, and your eyes are droopy.

“You can’t sleep yet.” Soap tries to shake you awake. “It’s fine. I’ll get it out of her one way or another.” Gaz laughs. Soap nods his head.

“I’ll take her to her room, get her cleaned up.”

Gaz made sure to do a good job. You were already undressed so running a bath for you and using a small towel to clean your skin was easy. Washing your hair was a bit harder. You were out cold. He redressed you in one of his shirts, helping you into bed.

When the light just began to show through your window, he knew it was his turn.

You’re still out cold but he knew this would wake you.

His face buried between your thighs, tongue lapping at your entrance. Sucking your clit and flicking his tongue over your clit. You’re stirring in your sleep, moaning. Your eyes open and you’re still dazed, but you know whatever you’re feeling is amazing. You push your blanket back, whining out at the sight of him between your thighs. “Gaz?” You whimper. He draws himself away from you. “You still owe me princess.” He breathes, returning to devour you. “What do you want me to do?” You whine. Your pussy is sore, but he’s soothing you. “M’gonna fuck this pussy. Nice n slow.” He pulls away for a second, sucking your clit between his lips and drawing away from you. “Show you who you belong to.” He breathes. You nod your head. He sits up, his cock is throbbing hard.

He pushes his sweatpants down his legs, pumping his hard cock as he lines himself up with your entrance. “Actually..” he mumbles. Pulling away. “Why don’t you show me what you’ve gone hm? Get up.” You listen, standing up. He lays down. “Get up here. I’ll help you.” He mumbles. You nod your head, straddling his hips and sinking down onto his cock. Your thighs shiver at the size of him, a mewl leaving your lips. “Ah- too much.” You whimper. “You’ll get used to it. Ride my cock baby.” You nod your head, rocking your hips into him. You rest your hands on his chest, raising your hips off of him. He circles your clit with his fingers, he needs to cum soon. He’s been waiting all night for this, he’s not going to last long.

You’re rocking into him faster, moaning out. You’re enjoying yourself and that’s exactly what he wants. “Who do you belong to darling? Who’s barracks bunny are you?” He smirks. “Y-yours-“ you whimper. A sharp slap to your ass has you whimpering. “Wrong, who do you belong to? Who’s barracks bunny are you?”

“141.” You whine. “Hm? I didn’t hear you.” He breathes. “Task Force 141, I’m task force 141’s barracks bunny!” You cry. Your hips halt as you soak him, and he cries out, pushing your hips off of him as he finishes. “Shit!” He growls. Pumping his cock quickly, costing your ass in his cum.

You relax into him, panting.

He once again helps you clean up, but leaves you alone this time. You needed to rest.

While you were on base with them, you were always going to keep them busy.

#call of duty mw2 #soap mw2 #cod mw2 #ghost mw2 #captain john price #price mw2 #alejandro mw2 #captain price #johnny soap mactavish #mw2 smut

[saetoru]

IMPRESSIONS — OIKAWA TOORU.

「 SYNOPSIS 」 ⋮ oikawa + pussy jobs - you want to make a good impression when meeting your boyfriends family—too bad he’s adamant about you fixing his problem

♱ kinktober ⋮ find the masterlist here !!

♱ length ⋮ 1.6k words

♱ contents ⋮ nsfw and 18+ content, fem! reader, needy oikawa, fingering, pussy jobs, male masturbation, pet names (princess)

♱ notes ⋮ this is the last of the edited reposts of last year omg bear with me

oikawa tooru has never quite been known for backing down when he wants something, and you’ve been proven that time and time again. but still, you thought that he’d have exercised a little restraint at his childhood home—while you’re in front of his family, as you meet them for the first time.

truth be told, maybe you’re partly to blame for letting him drag you up to his bathroom in the first place, but you can’t help but cave when he subtly grinds his erection onto you from behind, the thin fabric of your dress and his pants the only thing that’s separating you from him. maybe you’re feeding bad habits, maybe you’re letting him off the hook—but maybe it’s not so bad…or so you reason.

“we’ll be back,” tooru grins to his family, placing a hand on your shoulder from behind you. you bite back a gasp when his hardened length prods against your ass as he leans in and presses against you. “just gonna give a quick house tour,” he claims.

no one even thinks twice, sending you both off with sweet smiles and short waves as your boyfriend turns you around to follow him towards the direction of his old bedroom. your wrist is clutched tightly in his hand, and he walks a little too fast for it to be a house tour—he skips three doors in his haste—but you doubt anyone notices anyway.

he has you pressed against the door of his bathroom the second it’s closed shut, lips hungrily devouring yours as his hips rut his hardened length against your thigh. moaning quietly, he bites lightly at your bottom lip, hands gripping your waist tightly while you let out a slight gasp.

“tooru are you crazy?” you hiss, trying to push his face away from yours to look him in the eyes. he has other ideas, however, and his lips are trailing hot, wet kisses down your jaw and onto your neck, sucking gently at the skin. fighting back a low moan, you grip his arm tightly.

“what’s so crazy about wanting my girlfriend,” he murmurs, smugness dripping through his words like the wetness already forming in between your legs. you send him a glare, and he offers you a playful pout.

“we’re in front of your whole family—”

“no, they’re in the living room,” he corrects, “and we’re in here.”

he’s always been a smartass, and you’ve always had half a mind to smack him upside the head, but your mind is a little hazed right now when his erection pokes your thigh like that, hot and heavy in his pants, ready to stretch you out as he splits you open.

you know you should end this now before it’s too late to pull away, you absolutely should end this if you want to make a good impression on his family—plane tickets from argentina to japan certainly aren’t cheap, and you don’t want this to be for nothing—but the way his thick girth, strained in its confinements, is now rubbing against your clothed clit has you forgetting all about his family across the house.

he’s irresistible—it’s not long until all you can think of is him—and you think he’s been counting on the way it’s so easy to persuade you.

“t-tooru, we really shouldn’t be doing this here—”

“please baby,” he whines into your neck, voice so needy, so desperate, you let out a shaky exhale. you both already know that you’ll be caving into his desires, it’s not hard to see that he’s got you right where he wants you. “please, i need you so bad,” he breathes shakily against the shell of your ear, pressing soft kisses there too.

and when he feels your hand finally reach forward and palm him through his pants lightly, eliciting a soft groan from him as he shudders, he knows he’s won you over this time around, and he couldn’t be more pleased with himself.

“you have a condom?” you gasp when his fingers travel up the bottom of your dress, moving your underwear to the side and rubbing circles onto your clit. two fingers just barely glide over your entrance, and you let out a needy whimper.

“no,” he grunts, “not on me.” hissing as his fingers sink into your folds and pump in and out of your cunt, you grip his hair, pulling lightly on the strands and making him moan quietly at the tugs of his roots.

“then get creative,” you huff, “‘m not walking around with a mess between my legs,” you say firmly. he pouts at you, but the glare you send him makes him shrivel with a whine, too needy to argue and risk you changing your mind altogether.

in a moment’s time, both your dress is hiked up and tooru’s pants are pulled down, leaving both of you bare to each other. it’s a risky ordeal, and his family is close, and you can only hope no one needs to use the bathroom any time soon—but none of it matters when he tugs you closer and you fell the cat tip tap against your clit.

“guess this’ll have to do,” he groans, cock sliding against the slick lips of your cunt, rubbing against your clit with each drag. you both moan in sync, and tooru’s head falls to press his forehead against yours, eyes closing at the sensation that tingles all the way down to the bottom of his spine from the friction.

his length is hard, pulsing and ready to release, aching to cum—and he wants so badly to sink deep into your walls and fuck his load into your heat, but he knows now’s not the time. whimpering when you feel his swollen tip rub against your clit, your hands tighten their clawed grip on his arms, a cry of his name falling past your lips no matter how hard you try to keep from making a sound.

“f-fuck, tooru,” you mewl, jerking your hips in rhythm to chase the friction of his member sliding against your pussy.

“s-so good,” he whines softly, digging his head into your neck, clutching your hips tightly when your hand runs through his hair. “needed th-this just as bad as bad as me, huh?” he smirks against your skin.

even despite shamelessly dragging you into the bathroom, lying to his family, and chasing an orgasm right here in the middle of introducing you to his loved ones, oikawa tooru still manages to flip the switch and be a cocky bastard. you think someone ought to humble him—but sadly, you find you’re not the perfect candidate for that job yourself. otherwise, you’d never let yourself get into something as compromising as this.

you can’t help but clench your walls, fluttering around absolutely nothing at the fact that he can be so smug. and you want to feel his length slam into you, to hit you right in the spot that drives you mad with his angled thrusts, the blunt head of his cock drilling against your sweet spot—but something about him just barely rubbing against your wet core makes your head spin with need, and the coil in your stomach tightens slowly, builds up in a steady ache, right on the verge of snapping.

“fuck, princess,” he grunts, “wanted to feel me just as bad, huh? is that why you’re so wet?”

he never fails to turn the tables, to let the pieces fall into his favor, to promise the ball drops in your court every time. maybe that’s what you love about tooru—or maybe it’s the way his lips press wet kisses along the column of your throat, sucking gently on your jaw.

“please—t-tooru, more,” you whimper, pulling a low chuckle from his throat.

“more? thought you said we couldn’t do that,” he coos, hissing as his slick-coated length glides along your folds, rubbing against him with enough to burn pleasure along his nerves, but falling just short to pool desperation in his voice. “god, i wish i could fuck you right now,” he huffs, voice cracking as he stifles a groan.

the ridge of his vein slides against your clit once, twice, a third time before somehow, even without his thick length splitting you apart, you’re cumming. your walls are clenching around nothing as they spasm through your high, your voice choked as you repeat his name like a mantra.

“tooru, t-tooru,” you repeat, crying out as you cling to him tightly. tears prick your eyes as the pleasure takes up what feels like every nerve of your body, your back arching from the door he has you pressed against.

tooru looks at your face, watches your expression crumble through your orgasm, and he groans—a bit too loudly, and you hope to god no one hears—quickly pulling his thick length away from you once you’ve ridden out your high. his hand fists his cock tightly, red and swollen and aching to cum, balls heavy and begging to release his cum in thick spurts. it’s nowhere near the wet, tight clench of your cunt, but you watch his expression break as he strokes himself a few more times, choking on a gasps and body stilling as he empties his load. you watch with hooded eyes as cum spills onto the tiles of his bathroom floor, coating his hand as he fucks himself through his high.

“ngh—sh-shit,” he rasps, and you watch in awe as tooru’s lips part with each cry he lets out, eyes screwed shut as his orgasm crashes over his body in waves. sweat covers his forehead and his hair clings to his skin, thighs quivering as he tries to keep himself standing upright through the devastation of his peak.

finally, with a few more thick ropes of cum, he catches himself against the door with his good hand, sweaty forehead pressing against yours as he pants and catches his breath with you. his cheeks are flushed red, and his lips are slightly swollen, but he looks utterly beautiful caging you against the door like this.

“you really are a piece of work,” you say breathlessly, shaking your head and running a hand through his messy locks, pushing them off his forehead. wriggling his brows, he steals a quick peck from your lips.

“i can’t wait till everyone goes to sleep so i can fuck you for real,” he chuckles, catching your hand when you go to smack his chest.

“i am not fucking you in your childhood bed,” you mutter, glaring at him. and when his eyes glint as he stares at you, lips spreading to a wider smirk, you gulp, glare faltering a little at his expression—he still has you right where he wants you, you realize.

“we’ll see baby,” he murmurs, “we’ll see.”

© hanmas do not plagiarize, repost, translate to other sites, or recommend on platforms outside tumblr such as tik tok

#[ tee’s kinktober 22 👻 ] #thirstee! #teepods.writings #oikawa x reader #oikawa smut #oikawa x you #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x you

[in-my-feels-probably]

Could u do an imagine where reader's hair is red and daemon's absolutely obsessed with it?Thank you.

Would u consider doing an imagine where its basically daemon and the reader have a love /hate relationship but then they confess their love when Daemon comes back from tbe StepStones

My Fire

Request: Could u do an imagine where reader’s hair is red and daemon’s absolutely obsessed with it?Thank you

Hi! I love this request, it’s so cute. I wish I had red hair, I’ve dyed it a wine color before, but I’m considering dying it a copper color at some point. I didn’t know if you wanted bright red hair, or something like ginger, so I left it kinda up to the reader, I hope that’s ok. Also, I made the reader fem, and a friend of Rhaenyra from another house, so I could make sense of the reader's hair color. I hope you enjoy it! Let me know what you think.

And yes, I can write that other request, just submit an ask with any ideas or details you want and I’ll add it to the list.

(Warnings: i don't think there are any, maybe an ooc daemon, let me know if i missed any)

—

Rhaenyra had finally convinced you to let her braid your hair, framing pieces around your face and twisting the strands into intricate designs all around your head. You normally kept it simple, and out of your face, pulled back neatly. 

With the amount of time you spent with Rhaenyra, often on dragonback, you didn’t have the time to fiddle with your hair, as it would get tangled anyway. 

Even then, you had no great love for your hair. The high born boys of your house often made fun, teasing you about the color. As you grew older, the boys turned to men, and the comments became a lot cruder. Rhaenyra, ever the fiery spirit, always had your back. You were a handful of years older than her, and it was quite funny to see a little girl instill fear in boys twice her height. Although, you supposed that had more to do with her father being the King, and her Uncle, who had quite the reputation, being fiercely protective over the pair of you.

Rhaenyra often begged to have you let her do something with your hair, so you could hold your head high and walk with confidence, and you finally caved to her incessant pestering. And you had to admit, you did look quite nice when she finished. 

“You have plans with my Uncle today, do you not?” Rhaenyra asked, smirking.

You raised a brow, watching her grin. “You’re such a little meddler! Is that why you kept asking? I swear, you’re too much like your Uncle.”

“That’s why you love him,” she laughed, blocking her face from the pillow you slung her way. “And he loves your hair, you know that. Why hide it from him?”

You groaned, hiding your heated cheeks in your palms. “Gods, you really are like him. I bet he put you up to this. You two are always a recipe for a disaster. You could take down the Seven Kingdoms if you put your mind to it.”

“Yes,” she agreed. “Bold plans, for a later time. For now…you have to meet with my Uncle. Off you go, now.”

She shooed you away from her, blowing a kiss in your direction. You rolled your eyes, opening her chamber door. “I’ll get you back for this. And him too. You both have nothing on me. You should be scared!”

You accepted Ser Harwin’s arm as he closed the door behind you, guiding you down the steps that led towards the Dragon Pit. 

“Thank you, Ser.”

He smiled and nodded, returning to his post outside Rhaenyra’s door. “Good day, My Lady.”

You made your way to the pit, anxiously awaiting your day with Daemon. You arrived to see him standing in front of Caraxes, seemingly talking to him. You laughed to yourself, watching Caraxes find you in his sight, perking up at your presence. 

You whistled, smiling as Caraxes bristled, letting out a happy shrill that mimicked yours.

Daemon turned at the sound of your voice, a grin creeping its way onto his face at the sight of you. He smiled, a genuine rare smile, holding his hand out for you to take. 

“My Lady,” he greeted, as you stepped up to greet Caraxes. The dragon lowered his head, letting you run a light hand down his nose. 

Daemon watched you in awe, amazed at how he managed to get a girl like you. As far as he was concerned, the whole of the Seven Kingdoms paled in comparison to the woman who was akin to fire. 

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured. “I was going to say you look beautiful, but that’s a bit of an understatement. You’re always beautiful.”

His smirk grew as he watched you fight the flush in your cheeks, and he continued on to save you from the embarrassment of stuttering like a fool in front of him, which he regularly made you do.

“I see Rhaenyra finally got her hands on you,” he said, twisting a loose curl around his finger. 

“She did,” you nodded. “I’m not quite sure what her fascination with it is. Who knows how many times I’ve wished for hers. Your family has beautiful hair. I’ve hardly ever met anyone with mine, aside from a few Tully’s. Even so, theirs is auburn, they blend in well enough. I might as well have lit a flame atop my head.”

“That’s a good thing. Everyone else is dreadfully boring. You stand out.” 

Daemon was still transfixed with your hair, twirling it around his finger. You watched him, amused.

“I suppose so. As do you. But yours is regarded as royal. It shines like a silver star. What is mine like? A..uh, a–”

“A dragon,” He interrupted your thoughts, his eyes suddenly meeting yours. You held your breath under his icy gaze. He reassured you a second time. “Like a dragon.”

“I don’t understand.” You shook your head, confused. 

Daemon gazed down at you thoughtfully, gently moving you to stand behind him. You remained silent and followed his lead as he led you to the edge of the pit, where Caraxes had settled. He kept a protective arm in front of you, although he knew Caraxes wouldn’t harm you. 

“Caraxes,” He called, clicking his tongue to get the dragon’s attention. “Sōvegon.”

Fly.

Caraxes flapped his wings, lifting into the sky. 

“Dracarys!” 

Caraxes let a tumbling roar emerge from his throat, breathing fire into the sky above him. 

You watched in wonder, feeling the heat on your skin as the flames danced in the sky. Daemon slid his hand into yours, turning your attention back to him. 

“You’re like a dragon, with hair to match. Flames and heat, scorching to the touch. Like an inferno, embers dancing in the sky. You might not have the hair of a Targaryen, but you have the heart of one. Caraxes can sense it, and I can sense it. You’re akin to fire, like me. And it’s beautiful. Wear it with pride. Wear it with power.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, filled with overwhelming emotion. You squeezed his hand in yours, and he bent down, leaning his forehead against yours.

“Issa gevie, se iksā gevie. Ñuha mele. Ñuha perzys. Ñuha zaldrīzes.”

It is beautiful, and you are beautiful. My red. My fire. My dragon. 

You brought a palm up to rest on his cheek, swiping a thumb across his cheekbone, before running your fingers through his hair. 

“Ñuha qēlos,” you returned, watching Daemon fight the flush that crept onto his cheeks.

My star.

“Aōhon,” he nodded, holding you close to him, one of his hands finding its way back into your curls.

Yours.

—

A/N - Hi! Sorry this is kinda short, I’ve been really busy and haven’t had the chance to write. This was my first time writing for Daemon, I hope it’s alright. 

#house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targeryen x reader #daemon targeryan #daemon targaryen imagine #daemon targeryen imagine #daemon targaryen #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones #rhaenyra targaryen imagine

[mossymandibles]

Today I ended up comin down with something so while sweating in bed I drew this based on this post (can’t find an original photographer or anything) that instantly made me think of Yuna holding a newborn Kraw (who had a different name given to him by her that I don’t think I wanna disclose just yet)

I also finally cleaned up this excerpt that’s been sitting in my notes for a scene like this. I’m putting it in the read below. It involves talk about miscarriages though so if that kind of thing is upsetting I hope you just enjoy the picture nonetheless.

Yuna found a single calf to be breathing among the small litter of underdeveloped fetuses.

She was used to this by now, though it had been many years since another attempt. She wasn’t expecting this litter in the least given the obvious anatomical differences between her and Sobehk, but she carried to term anyway. Long before this litter, she had grown accustomed to the idea of never having children of her own. Her body seemed to make that choice for her already many, many times.

She took a claw and gently cut through the umbilical cord and the partial amniotic sac still surrounding the calf. He wasn’t malformed or inside out, nor did he whimper or cry. His small fleshy body just lay there among the kelp, taking quick shallow breathes. A mess of black hair was slicked across his head. Yuna could see that he took a two legged, humanoid form like his father, though there were no down feathers or wings to be seen. The calf had gossamer fins and a fat paddle tail, like hers.

“What a waste.” She crooned, sniffing him. “You should have eaten your siblings in the womb. You might have been born stronger…I’ll have to get rid of them myself, later.”

Although he was breathing, she didn’t have much hope for him. Regardless, she would humor the idea that he would survive the night. She would humor the idea of being a parent, allowing him to nurse for the time being.

Afterwards, she scooped him up and curled into herself among the kelp, facing the pale shaft of moonlight coming in through an opening in the cave ceiling. She held the little calf against her face, keeping her hand around his small body and listening to his breaths. His heartbeat was no more than a flutter. She would continue to listen throughout the entire night.

“If you make it through the night, little one,” she murmured; “I will give you a name.”

#yuna #kraw #dragon #sea dragon #hallowed carrion #tw miscarriage #I read through it like 5 times I hope everything looks okay #I know I’m not the best writer shew #even less grammatically proficient

[shawnxstyles]

green and gold

DATE: MARCH 29, 2023

summary: tom invites you to the brothers trust charity event that you didn’t really want to go to. you made up countless excuses, trying to run away from him like you usually do, but were convinced anyway. during the event, tom finally confronts you about always running away when he’s close. years of pent-up feelings are unraveled along with some clothes to make up for all the time you lost.

request: yess

song: dress- taylor swift

words: 7.7k

warnings: SMUT (f- receiving [fingering, slight masturbation, some nipple play], exhibitism, small praise kink, unprotected sex [coming inside], dirty talk), pining, lots of fluff, and some language.

note: i used this image because it was one of the only ones i could find of him at the event where he wasn’t with other people lol. this is hardly edited

best friends to lovers :) famous!tom x female!reader

–

You really didn’t want to go tonight. You had so many reasons, or excuses is what Tom said, why you didn’t want to go to a high-end charity event. But your best friend put on his puppy dog eyes and played the “I need you by my side tonight” card. It was truly an unfair move.

The “reasons” you gave Tom were all in-the-moment excuses. Like “I have to clean my entire apartment and it’s going to take a week” or “I’m not going to feel good for the next week”. Yeah…your excuses got worse every time he asked.

Tom told you a week in advance and it went like this; he asked if you wanted to go, you said no for three days straight, and then eventually caved because of those stupid puppy dog eyes. That’s how most of Tom’s requests for your presence went. At first, you loved the idea of all the fancy clothes and luxurious events, but after about two nights out, you were already sick of it. You respected that Tom did that and more for a living.

Like every other event he convinced you to go to, you shared a suite in some grand hotel that still made your jaw drop from its lavishness. He made sure his team arranged an outfit for you each time, every dress more opulent than the last. The dresses he got you always fit you so perfectly, you were in disbelief when you looked in the mirror at the final results.

Tonight was no different. Well, it was a bit different. As you stood in front of the full length mirror, you stared at your figure way longer than you usually would have. Tom ordered you a long, green dress with velvet fabric that comforted your skin. It was snug, flawlessly fitting, and had a huge slit that showed your entire leg. You made sure to shave everything and wear your tiniest pair of underwear, so nothing could be seen.

You weren’t a celebrity like Tom. Yeah, sometimes you went to events with him, but only for support. You were seen on the media with him a lot, and after at least a year of fans either “shipping” you two or hating you, they finally understood the idea that a man and a woman can be friends.

No matter how much you hated it, that’s all you two were. That’s all it was ever going to be.

You and Tom have been friends since you were kids. You only ever saw him as a friend, and he, the same. But as puberty hit and hormones developed, the line of friendship began to blur for you. When he had a few girlfriends (all for short periods of time), it became clear to you that he had no interest in you outside of a friendship.

His name got huge after he landed the iconic role of playing Spider-man for the Marvel Cinematic Universe. But your relationship together never faded, along with the confusing feelings you learned to label as a crush. Your “crush” eventually turned into a “like”, and then…well, you would be lying to yourself if you said you weren’t in love with the man.

And as you smoothed your hands over the velvet dress, your heart swelled at the idea of it all. A girl in love with her best friend.

You took a deep breath and pulled your conscience away from your reflection. You hastingly put in the dangly, gold earrings with matching green gems that Tom also ordered for you. Sparkling gold heels rested by the bed, waiting for your feet to become ridiculously uncomfortable. You strapped them on and grabbed your black clutch on the bed. You peered one last time at your shared hotel room before walking out and to the elevators.

Outside, a car was ready to escort you to the event. As you rode, you made light conversation with Tom’s driver, Eddy, and asked about his family and how his night was. While entering, sitting, and exiting the car, you repeated numerous thank you’s just like you did every time he escorted you. A few events ago, you overheard him say you were something along the lines of “kind-hearted” and “a keeper”, which made you smile to yourself. But you swear Tom replied saying “that’s the goal”.

Maybe it was all in your head, but it never left you. Even if it was, you wanted to hold onto it–the sliver of possibility that there might be something between you and Tom.

You trailed up the long, creme cemented stairs and opened the double glass doors. The lobby was roomy and extremely tall for no good reason besides the glistening chandelier that hung from the roof. The floor was covered in red velvet carpet with a white and gold marble outline. Heels padding the carpet, you checked in easily and were directed to the ballroom area. You followed and strutted into the decked out event.

Similar to the lobby, red velvet and marble decorated the floor and walls. The foundation of the walls were dark wood, which matched pleasantly with the other colors. Accents of gold were everywhere, including the white-clothed tables; candle holders, golden tassels, and picture frames. Voices buzzed all around you, but you hardly acknowledged anyone before taking in the beauty of the room. This was definitely one of the fanciest events you’ve ever been to.

After a welcoming look, you scanned the crowded tables for a familiar face. Or, familiar faces. Since this was The Brothers Trust charity event, all of the Holland brothers were present. That being said, it was also one of your first questions you had asked Tom when he asked for you to go. Why would you need to go if he had the support of all his brothers? You would just be there.

But that’s all he wanted. He just wanted you there. At his events, by his side; in his house, in his bed, in his arms–he always just wanted you there.

You got easily distracted by the outfits and people that it took you a minute to find him. But when your eyes spotted his face, your heart skipped a beat so frequent and fast that it became comfortable. Tom stood in a criminally charming tux by a table of middle-aged people, conversing with a wide smile plastered on his tan face. You watched as he laughed whole-heartedly when Harry made a joke, clutching onto his arm for support.

Without noticing, you had swallowed all your saliva and weren’t breathing correctly. Once your brain and body wanted to function, you used your legs to wander his way.

Tom was busy talking to one of his associates at another table when you caught his eye from across the room. The words that left the older man’s mouth turned into a muffled hum along with all the other voices in the room as he gazed at you. He’s seen you in a numerous amount of dresses, all beautiful and glamorous in their own way. But the dress you’re sporting tonight caused his breath to hitch in his throat and heart stop–correction, it made everything stop. Everyone around you blurred as he absorbed the image of you strutting towards him in that dangerous green and gold.

Dangerous because he might not be able to hold himself back tonight.

“Uh, Tom?” The associate questioned, causing Tom to shake his head and peer down at the man. Before the man could continue about whatever he was talking about, Tom politely, but quickly excused himself with a pat on his shoulder and met with you in the midst of the room.

He inhaled deeply to appear unaffected, like you didn’t just ruin his entire night–entire life–by taking his breath away and looking drop-dead gorgeous. He wouldn’t be too surprised if you killed him.

“This place is ethereal,” You said, head spinning and arms waving. “I cannot believe you made me come to this.”

“Why? You don’t like it?”

“Tom, I just said it was beautiful. Of course I like it. It’s just…a lot,” Your arms cross and you tuck your clutch under your armpit. “I don’t think this scene works for me.”

“Me either. You stick out like a sore thumb,” He teases with an exaggerated sigh. You dramatically gasp.

“What is that supposed to mean?!” You whisper-shout, leaning closer to him. He feels your breath fan his cheek and a slight blush creeps up his neck at the proximity. He doesn’t want to look down because he knows that he would get a glimpse of your breasts perched up by your crossed arms. However, his eyes betray him as his glances quickly at the pair causing a subtle twitch in his cock.

No more looking, Tom, he tells himself.

“You’re way prettier than all of these people. You’re killin’ all of their egos and raising all of their jealousies. If everyone hates me, I’m blamin’ you and that goddamn dress,” Tom expresses with gritted teeth, eyes wandering anywhere but yours. A wave of heat rushes up your neck and your eyes have a staring contest with the carpet.

When you finally have the courage to look back up, his eyes are piercing into yours causing your skin to feel flushed all over. The glare of his brown eyes kindles a small fire in the pits of your stomach, dull but throbbing. The feeling travels lower until there’s a slight drip in your thong.

“I’m glad I chose a good one,” He adds, eyes drifting to scan your entire frame once again with his hands behind his back. Your breasts raise up and down with the deep breaths you take, still unable to comprehend his previous words. You shake your head.

“You chose it?” You always thought it was some stylist, or literally anyone else but Tom. You thought it was just his money that he used to rent it. “Do you always choose my dresses?”

He nods matter-of-factly. “Of course. I’d like to think I know what you like.”

He wasn’t wrong. Every dress that he chose looked like it was made exclusively for you and only you. Whether it was flowy or tight, red or white, you always managed to leave the hotel room more confident than you had when you entered. Now that you think about it, you don’t remember ever telling Tom your sizing. It must have been something he learned along the way because like you said, every dress fit perfectly like it was tailored for you.

Before you could respond, a lady tapped on his shoulder and introduced herself. Tom didn’t hesitate to take a step back and introduce both himself and you. You greeted the lady kindly as you three talked about the goodness of the event. After a few minutes, the auction was set to begin and Tom had to excuse himself.

Before he went on stage, he showed you your seat, which was right in the front with Harry, Sam, and Paddy. You didn’t sit before giving them each a heartwarming hug, even though you saw them all yesterday. Even though you were in a glamorous ballroom you weren’t used to, you felt comforted by the boys you were close enough with to call the brothers you never had.

Sometimes, you wished you saw Tom that way. But when you compared the feelings in your heart and your head, you knew they could never be the same.

Finally, the auction started. Tom’s name glowed in dotted lights on the striped wall behind him. You turned your whole body to face Tom as he introduced the entire event before it got kick-started. Many items were being auctioned; paintings, autographed guitars, and other things that were so far out of your price range that you were deaf to all numbers over the thousands.

In between each item were fun little trivia games to keep the people awake and alert. It was an entertaining way to support a charity, and you felt a sense of pride because you knew it had been Tom’s idea. One of the trivia questions had been to guess how many na’s there were in “Hey Jude” by The Beatles. Some people got insanely close, but no one got it on the money.

After all the auctioning and bidding was over, you felt immensely poor, but felt instantly better when Tom came to sit next to you. The room chatted away, wining and dining while Tom’s brothers did the same. Unlike them, Tom turned to you.

“How are you?” His voice was raspy, probably from talking for hours. That subtle fire in your stomach tingles at his voice. You turn your body to face him.

“I’m good. You did really well up there, by the way,” You said, lifting your nearly empty wine glass to your lips. There’s a blurring stain from your shiny lip gloss on the rim.

“Thanks, love,” The graveliness of his throat doesn’t fade, even after he takes a few sips of water. You watch as his fingers wrap around the cup, and it’s embarrassing that you’re obsessed with his simplistic movements. You subconsciously lick your lips, unable to rid the dirty thoughts piling in your head.

Tux. Pretty. Hot. Raspy voice. Thick fingers.

Tom’s lips started moving, but you weren’t paying enough attention, too caught up in your head to focus on the living dream in front of you.

“What?” You asked, subtly leaning toward him. He leaned closer, lying a hand on your bare thigh through your slit. You quietly gasp because his hand is chilly from the water, but also because it was so close to where you ached. Your skin burned nearly causing you to break out in a sweat, contradicting his icy palm.

“Are you okay?” His other hand gently patted against your forehead and caressed your hot cheek with his thumb. “You’re warm.”

No shit. Does he see what he’s doing?

You couldn’t formulate a response when his hand traveled down to rest on the curve of your shoulder and neck. His hand on your mid-thigh rubbed reassuring circles as your heart thumped a million miles an hour.

“I’m fine,” You vaguely answered in a squeak, subtly squeezing your thighs when his touch got too much. His eyes glance briskly at your tightened thighs and anxious hands in your lap, a knowing eyebrow raising slightly. Tom didn’t mean to put his hand on your thigh, but now that it was there, he didn’t want to remove it. When he saw you squirm for a sliver of a second, he engaged in the idea that you might be turned on.

The thought made his cock twitch needily in his pants.

You didn’t notice, too concentrated on the feeling of his hands on you.

You wanted him to slide his hand up higher, to break that boundary that you’ve waited years to cross. But of course, when your chances were closer than ever, you had to be at some stupid, very public event. And doing anything explicit would be stupid.

“Are you sure? You’re burning up, love,” Tom’s hand squeezes the back of your heated neck causing you to inhale sharply. “And you’re so tense. What’s up, Y/N?”

You clenched your teeth. You began to run through every excuse in your mind, just like you had when Tom first asked you to this event. But he wasn’t texting you or calling you this time. He was sitting right in front of you with his hands on your neck and thigh. You nearly moaned out from just him rubbing your skin, his touch delicate with his rough skin. With every excuse you thought of, you couldn’t think of one that made sense enough for Tom to want to leave you alone for the rest of the night so you could collect yourself.

“I’m just really hot,” You complained in a low voice. Tom’s eyebrows raised, pursing and tightening his lips. To Tom, your voice sounded whiny and lustful. His dick stirred, slightly hardening at the growing conclusion that you’re highly aroused. Like him.

“What can I do, love?” He noticed the smallest quiver of your lip at the name, almost as if you were holding something in. He’s called you love for ages, so maybe it was something else. Or someone else…

What if it wasn’t even him? If it wasn’t him then what had you so worked up?

“Um…can we go outside? Need some air,” Your eyes traveled down to his pink lips, looking so soft and kissable. You were barely a foot away from him before he nodded and stood up. You didn’t know you were holding your breath until a wavering sigh left your mouth. Tom extends his hand and you follow him to what you assume is outside.

He leads you out a back door after giving a curt nod to a security guard. The chilly February night breeze brushes over your skin, finally cooling you down as Tom releases your hand. The exit led to an alleyway, a brick wall that grew darker one way. You strained your eyes on each brick and attempted to concentrate on your breathing. But Tom’s looming presence made it impossible because that fire in the pit of your stomach never dulled.

“Feelin’ better?” He broke the silence and it had you swinging your head to face him. You shakingly nodded your head with a quick hum.

You couldn’t take it. You couldn’t stand so close to him while you were feeling this way.

“I have to go,” You exhaled briskly before beginning to walk away. Tom told you to wait, but you didn’t.

You didn’t get more than a few steps before Tom caught your hand and spun you around magically. Your shoulders collided with the surface as he stood in front of you, caging you to the wall. Your breathing faltered as your heart bounced crazily against your ribs, skin beginning to burn up again. He faced the floor before finally meeting your wide eyes. He gazed at you as if he was searching for something and you wanted to give it to him, whatever it was, so he would stop looking at you intensely.

“Why do you always do that?” His voice was a whisper, low and still a tad raspy.

“What?” You scanned his features, allured by his lips only inches away from yours. He’s never been so close and it was dangerous. So, so dangerous. The only barrier in between you was that line of friendship that thinned with every passing second.

“Always run away. Every time…”

Your heart raced faster than it ever has before. It thumped out of your chest like a lovestruck cartoon character as he had you hanging on every single word.

He closed his eyes for a moment, seeming to collect his thoughts. “Every time I get close. Every time I want to be closer, you make up some excuse so you don’t have to be near me. Am I that horrible, Y/N? Is the possibility of this that horrible?”

Possibility? Possibility of what? Oh, please be what you’re thinking.

“No, God, of course not. You’re perfect. You’re too perfect that I get…overwhelmed when I’m near you. I can’t do this,” You shake your head and try to duck away under his arms. You’re completely disarmed when one of his hands drops to pin your hip down. Your wiggling comes to a halt.

“There you go again. Just stay, Y/N,” He leans toward you, mouth hovering near your ear. Your senses dial up to a hundred when you feel his breath tickle your skin. “You’re still warm, Y/N.”

You bite your lip, holding in a whimper that was threatening to leave your mouth. Your hips subtly moved against his hand that stationed you to the wall, but you weren’t going anywhere.

A thick thigh parts your legs, pinning you to the wall more securely. You gasp as his hand that was on your hip travels up and brushes over the warm skin of your cheek. You search for the words in your brain.

Maybe instead of avoiding it, just go with it.

Tom is struggling. Being this close to you has his cock rock hard under his trousers. He’s sure you could feel him against your bare leg, which was slightly spread for his own leg. His chest was restricting and blocking his air flow because he couldn’t breathe correctly. Your glossy lips were plush and soft, and he wanted nothing more than to kiss you until you shared oxygen.

You felt what you assumed was his large boner on your thigh. You mewled so delicately you weren’t sure if he heard it, but he did.

You felt years of friendship being slowly torn apart with every second he didn’t say something. You were about to push him off of you and sprint towards your hotel, which was miles and miles away, so you could die of embarrassment. Or maybe you would die because of your lack of cardio.

When you looked away from him, his hand adjusted your chin so you were staring directly at him. A soft kind of smile adorned his lips, but no words were spoken quite yet. You hated the sliver of hope that leaked from your heart. His thumb rubbed against your bottom lip and pulled it down, smearing your lip gloss.

“Do you know how long I’ve waited to kiss these lips?” Throat husky, he pushed himself impossibly closer to you, lips barely an inch away now. His nose bumped yours and you felt the breath evaporate from your lungs. “Sixteen years.”

“Sixteen years…” You repeated breathily. If you were to do the math, which your brain was very incapable of doing right now, that would be your entire friendship. Since you were only ten years old, Tom has been waiting to kiss you.

Tom’s been waiting to kiss you for sixteen years? That must mean…

“Promise you won’t run away,” Tom said, on the edge of pleading and demanding. A slow nod was all you did, and then Tom’s thumb slid down to your chin and tilted your head.

He pressed his lips to yours gently, slowly molding you both together. The motions are so agile, but you can feel everything this way. The tip of his tongue nudges yours, eliciting sparks of fire with every push of your lips. Your polished nails trail up and lightly scrape the soft hair on the nape of his neck. A swirl of passion ignites in your stomach, encouraging and begging for more. Eagerly, your movements got faster, rocking your heads together as you took in as much of one another as you could.

His body pins desperately into yours, smushing you against the rough wall. He removes his hand from your chin and slams it on the wall beside your head. His free hand lifts one of your legs, so he can slot himself in between you. A needy whimper escapes you as his clothed bulge presses against your damp thong. You clench around nothing but the aching and throbbing of your pussy.

“T-Tom, the dress–” You pant.

“I’ll buy you another one,” He slams his lips back on yours to shut you up, which of course, it works. But not for long before another excuse is popping up in your head.

“What if someone walks out here–”

“I’ll kill them,” He goes to kiss you again.

“Tom!” You dramatically shout with a giggle as your hand rests on his chest while the other is on his neck.

“Okay, I won’t actually kill them. Unless you want me to…” He drifts off, getting lost in your smile and your sparkling eyes.

At that moment, it hit him. He had you. He finally had you. Like he’s said, he’s waited sixteen years to have you. He’s been through trial and error with other girls, but they weren’t you. No one could ever be you.

Suddenly, someone bursts through the exit door and has both of your heads turning hastingly. Tom gently releases your leg as he scoffs annoyingly when he realizes it’s just his brother. His hand balls into a fist on the wall as he smiles irritatingly at Harry.

“There you are! Can you save this for later? We have things to sign and people to acknowledge,” Harry says before walking briskly back into the building.

“Yeah, let’s just “save this for later” like I haven’t waited long enough,” Tom mocks his brother with a grumble. You feel Tom sigh into the air. You bring your hand to caress his cheek reassuringly. After the last few minutes, you’ve gotten the courage to be a bit more vulnerable with him, without feeling the urge to run away.

“If it makes you feel any better, I’ve waited a long time, too,” You curl the corners of your lips into a faint smile as you watch your own thumb smooth over his tan skin. Tom practically melts into your touch, smiling goofily at you. “But we’ve waited this long, what’s a few more hours going to do?”

“Kill me,” Tom mumbles dramatically and you roll your eyes. “I don’t want you to run away.”

Your heart aches at his words. You made a promise to him, and you planned to fulfill that. After that kiss and feeling him in ways that you only imagined, you couldn’t run away now. You needed more of him, all of him. But even if you had all of him, you don’t think you’d be able to leave him again.

“I’ll stay by your side all night. Just like you asked,” You reassured and he nodded. He slowly backs away from the wall, releasing you, and all the heat between you dissipates. But your skin still burned from his touch and your clit still throbbed for him. You quickly adjusted your dress and wiped your hands over the fabric.

“How does the dress look? Fucked up?” You asked, spinning in a half circle. Tom cursed to himself, getting a view of the curve of your ass. That dress really did fit you perfectly, but he wanted nothing more than for it to be off of you.

“Not nearly as bad as I want it to be,” He husked, the sexual innuendo hanging in the air. He quickly swipes his thumb under your lip to fix your smeared gloss before leading you back inside. You blink a few times as he drags you through the door. You weren’t used to him being so blunt, but you loved it. It made you aware that there was something between you and Tom.

You had both surpassed the line of friendship ages ago. You looked back at it like a distant horizon as you entered a new, long-awaited arena; romance.

–

After what you swear was the longest two hours of your life, Tom had talked to every person at least twice with the addition of his goodbyes. Ever since you came back from outside, the tension between you and Tom was undeniable. You stuck to your word and were tied to Tom’s side for the straining hours. His hand was placed on your lower back for most of the night torturing you, and it was no different when he was ushering you out of the front door. Hastily, you both went down the steps and into the car with Eddy.

You tried your best to make normal conversation with Eddy like you usually do, but when Tom placed his large hand on your bare thigh again, it was hard to comprehend anything. Eventually, you entered traffic and Eddy got a phone call. He pressed a button and the wall that separated him from you and Tom was rolled up.

Tom gave you a knowing look as his hand raised higher on your thigh. Your breath hitched as his fingers were merely inches from your drenched heat. You instinctively spread your legs a bit wider, allowing him more access. He leans toward you, purposefully missing your lips and pecking your cheek. He tucks a stray strand of hair around your ear causing shivers to crawl up your spine.

“Are you wet, darling?” His thumb rubs dangerously close to your clothed cunt. Finally, his finger skims over the laced fabric, soaking. You whine when his delicate, teasing touch pets your clit. He chuckles hoarsely. “You’re soaked, baby. Have you been like this all night?”

You nod with closed eyes. “Please, touch me, Tom,” You plead quietly, in fear that Eddy might hear you.

“In the back of the car? Naughty thing,” His fingers press harder into your seeping hole, still covered by your panties. He rubs your hole, thumb petting your clit while your hand slaps over your mouth to keep you quiet. Your chest rises quickly with your racing breaths, your nipples poking at velvet material.

Tom slides your thong to the side, making bare contact with your dripping cunt. He massages your arousal around your folds while his thumb quickens its pace on your throbbing clit. That fire in your lower belly burns deliciously as his movements send you into a frenzy.

“Tom,” You mewled behind your hand suctioned to your face. Tom groans as his middle finger slips into your hole easily. Your hips buck into his touch, back slightly arched.

“Almost there, Mr. Holland,” Eddy informs on the other side of the wall. Your eyes widen as your heart beats quickly in a panic.

What if you get caught? Oh God, you would seriously die of embarrassment.

“Okay,” Tom replies simply, as if he’s unaffected and he isn’t fingering you in the back of a car. Tom’s voice lowers and instantly becomes raspier. “Are you almost there, Y/N?”

You remove your hand from your face, so you can hold onto his shoulder and nod briskly. Your nails dig into his tux jacket as your head slams against the leather seat. Rolling your hips for more, Tom inserts another finger into you and curls them. Your teeth stab into your bottom lip, probably drawing blood, so you don’t scream and alert the whole street.

“I need you to come, love. Right now,” His order was soft and sexy, but demanding and dirty. The thrusts of his fingers only increase in pace as he tries to get you to your orgasm before the car comes to a stop. With another curl of his fingers and a nudge to your clit, your stomach tightened until relief flooded over you.

Noticing this, Tom crashes his lips onto yours to dull your sweet noises. Every moan, scream, and whimper melts into his mouth as his fingers gradually pump into you. Your legs spasm intensely as your release coats his fingers. Tom pulls away from you and takes his fingers out from your sopping cunt, messy with your arousal and cum.

He doesn’t hesitate to raise the substance up to his pink lips, licking it clean off his hand with a devilish smirk on his face. You watch him do so with a widened mouth while you try to catch your breath, panting.

“Did so good, love,” His smirk never fades as the car comes to a stop. Before you know it, Eddy is unlocking and opening your door for you both. You exit first while trying to fix your disheveled appearance, so your post-orgasm look isn’t too suspicious. You mumble a thank you as you hurriedly walk to the front door of the lavish hotel. You stop in your tracks, almost forgetting your clutch in the car. Turning around, you walk back to the car and overhear Eddy and Tom again.

“I’m no fool, Mr. Holland. You told her.”

“I know you’re not, Eddy. And I did. Finally,” Eddy pats him on the shoulder. “And you can call me Tom, you know. We’re friends.”

“I know, I know. Because as your friend and driver, I know when to roll up the partition.”

As a wave of heat rushes up your neck and cascades onto your face, you realize that the clutch wasn’t that important and someone would return it. You resume your fast-paced walk into the hotel with an uncontrollable smile on your face.

A girl in love with her best friend.

–

Since you didn’t have your clutch, you were standing in front of your hotel room waiting for Tom. He wasn’t long after you, finally walking up to you with a smug smirk on his face. And your clutch in his hands. You snatch it from him.

“Finally, I can take these heels off,” You moan, slipping them off as he scans the card and unlocks the room. You place them on the floor near the door and head straight for your room. You don’t get too far, though, because Tom captured your hand and is twirling you around just like earlier in the night.

He traps you on the door, instantly warm against you. You feel his bulge poke your bare thigh as he spreads your legs slightly, fitting in between them. He grabs your hands and pins them above your hands.

“Your dress,” Rough and raspy, his breath fans your cheek.

“What about it?” You whisper, swallowing as your heart falters.

“I need it on the floor,” He husks. You hesitate, so aroused you can’t think straight. You just had an orgasm in the car and you were already horny again. This man made you insatiable.

“Then take it off,” You reply. Everything was so quiet around you. The only things you could hear were your ragged breathing and galloping heart. Tom groans, but listens.

He drops your hands and then folds the straps off your shoulders until your dress is pooled around your ankles. Now, you stood anxious in nothing but a black thong.

“Fuck me,” He grumbles after just looking at you for a second. Your breasts were bare and perky, nippled pebbled from being so turned on. He wanted to put them in his mouth and suck on them until you were sore and begging him to stop.

“That’s the goal,” You’re not sure if he got the reference, but he chuckled, voice even more raspy from the low talking.

“I knew you heard that conversation, you minx,” Without a warning, Tom sweeps you off the ground and throws you over his shoulder. You squeal, squirming in his hold, but it doesn’t even phase him as he leads you toward his bedroom. He jokingly slaps one of your ass cheeks causing you to shriek at the jolt of pain. You won’t lie, it turned you on even more.

Tom tosses you on the bed easily, watching as you scramble to lay on your elbows. You gaze at him with a seductively lip bite, wondering what he has in store for you.

“Touch yourself,” He orders as he loosens his bowtie around his neck. “C’mon, want to see what you can do.”

Hesitatingly, your hand sails down to your laced thong, slick with arousal. Your fingers rub your throbbing clit causing you to sigh and spread your legs. Your eyes drift shut as you get immersed in the feeling of your own hand. Your other hand massages your breast, gently pulling on your nipples. Getting eager, you yank your panties off. You get a glimpse at Tom, who is admiring your every move in nothing now.

Fuck.

You’ll never get used to Tom’s body. He was attractive on a God-scale level and sometimes that scared you. But finally seeing his whole body was jaw-dropping. His cock was girthy with a good amount of length that you had a feeling would kill you. His tip was pink like his lips, and like his lips, you wanted your mouth on it. Was he even real?

You didn’t get too much time to think about it because Tom was removing your hand from between your legs while hovering over you. His brown orbs ogle yours, piercing into your soul and reading you. Although you were way past friendship, entering the “romance” area was very scary. If not, scarier. Tom’s body above yours and the way you could see every detail of his skin terrified you. But you’ve never wanted something more in your entire life.

You pushed your head up, interlocking your lips with his. You melt into a passionate kiss, your hands entwining with his brown locks. Tom drags his lips down your neck, sucking for a moment on a sensitive part. Moaning, his smirks smugly against your skin, trailing lower. He meets your breast and immediately begins to suck on it.

You sharply inhale as his tongue swirls around the bud. His other hand twists the other causing your back to bend off the mattress. It should be illegal for him to be this good with his mouth. He could cause some serious damage.

He sails lower and lower until he’s kissing the skin near your heat. You’re already panting and he hasn’t even touched you yet. His mouth licks your thighs, teasing you immensely. You had already come once tonight around his fingers, you didn’t expect his mouth too. Although you would love to have his mouth on you, right now, you just needed him inside of you. You needed to feel him stretch you out and officially break that boundary.

“I really need you inside of me. Like right now,” You yank on his hair, pulling him towards you. He moans at your words and you love how vocal he is.

“Need a condom, fuck, hold on–”

“Can you actually um…not have one?” You suggested, voice shaky as the question came out. You just wanted to feel him. Everything that he was willing to give you, you wanted. You’ve both waited too long for this. In some way, you felt like you were in a relationship with him this whole time.

Maybe that’s what friendship to relationship feels like.

“Are you…are y’sure? I mean, I’m clean and everythin’–”

“Tom,” You put a reassuring hand to his warm cheek. “I’ve never wanted something more.”

“Christ,” He grits and strokes his shaft above your cunt a few times. His tip teases your entrance, and the small, but very bare contact had you both hissing into the air. “So fucking wet for me.”

His dribble of pre-cum mixes with your arousal as he rubs himself against you. Finally after ten years of waiting, literally, he slowly pushed himself inside of you. The crown of his cock is squeezed by your walls as if you were going to lose him. He curses, pulling himself out an inch, just to add more of his length.

Just like you craved, you feel the impending stretch as his entire cock gradually enters you. Once he’s fully in you, you sigh as he holds the position for a moment. You both take in the feeling of the moment; you’re never going to forget his body on yours or the look on his face as he slowly moves.

“God, you’re so fuckin’ tight, darlin’,” Tom moans with a lip bite.

“Please, please, move,” Just as eager as you, he obeys your request.

He lifts his hips, almost pulling completely out, before thrusting back inside. You cohesively moan, your mixed sounds echoing off the hotel walls. His leisure rocks gently accelerate into powerful pumps, hitting that sensitive spot with a simple nudge of his cock. Your body naturally levitates toward his body, pushing your neglected breasts on his skin.

Tom rams his cock into you, pinning you to the bed with his harsh thrusts. His head falls in the cradle of your shoulder as one of his hands lifts your leg to spread you wider. When his dick sinks entirely deeper, you gasp and drown in a mix of moans and screams. Your nails dig into his tough shoulder blades, probably leaving crescent moon shaped marks. Your leg wraps around his backside, forcing him to be deep inside of you forever.

Your head is thrown back onto his pillow, hair fanned out wildly. When Tom lifts his head to look at you, the wind practically gets knocked out of him. You were drop-dead gorgeous in your dress, like he said. God, your naked, bare figure nearly sent him into cardiac arrest. But watching you wither in complete bliss underneath him gave him a sense of pride that he was the one making you feel this way. No one else. And it would never be anyone else ever again.

With this thought, his cock pumps barbarically into you, rightfully proving to you that your friendship will never be the same. He repeatedly pokes at your G-spot, eliciting debauched shrieks from you. When you thought it couldn’t feel any better, Tom’s hand sneaks between you both and circles lightly on your clit.

“Feels so good. God, you’re so good,” You praise breathily. Clenching around him, a shuddering moan leaves him. “I’m so close, please.”

“Gonna come for me, hm? Need to feel you come around my cock,” Tom orders with another jarring thrust into your cunt. Your eyes roll to the back of your head with his demanding words, your body on the verge of caving.

Squeezing around him greedily, your entire figure tenses as an overpowering wave of relief floods over you. Your abdominal muscles clench intensely, your hands cramping from fisting his skin so hard. Your legs flutter around him as you begin to coat his cock in your release. At the same time, you feel the twitch of Tom’s length inside of you, alerting you that he’s close.

“Where do you want me to…” He grunts when you clutch around him from overstimulation. A string of curses leak from his mouth as he holds back his load, waiting for your response.

“I-Inside, please. Fuck, I need it inside of me, Tom,” You panted as he practically growls against your perspired skin.

“Fuckin’ killing me, angel. Shit,” Finally, Tom releases into you, pumping sloppily as he does so. You sigh relievingly as his orgasm covers your walls, tingling your insides. He slowly pushes every drop inside of you, ensuring you didn’t miss any.

Your eyelids flutter closed as Tom falls on the bed beside you. Your body sinks into the mattress beneath you, suddenly too tired to move. You had a keen feeling that tomorrow you would struggle to walk, or move in general.

“Tom,” You start. “I think you just ruined me forever.”

“Good,” His post-orgasm was somehow even more sexy. It was groggy and double raspy. He drags your body towards him and holds you close. Your head relaxes on his buff chest, his rapid beating heart making you smile to yourself. “I want to ruin you for everyone else.”

The heat on your skin that you thought had ceased never did, not with his flirtatious and alluring comments. A flush creeps up and makes your cheeks all warm against his torso.

“You know you’re mine now, right?”

“That’s definitely not how I pictured you asking me out…”

“Well, how did you picture it?” The truth is, you never really pictured it. You never let yourself think that far because then you would start getting hopeful. And being hopeful made you scared, and when you were scared…you ran away. It was a constant loop of life you lived in. However, with Tom lying beside you as your face was cradled in his chest, you had a feeling you wouldn’t have a problem staying this time.

“How about “Will you be my girlfriend?” That seems better.”

“But what if you said no? Might as well jus’ say you’re mine, so you can’t,” He kisses the top of your head softly while you roll your eyes at his foolishness. “Aren’t you glad you went now?”

“Yeah, yeah,” You wave him off. Realizing you have to get up from the comfort of his security, you gently push yourself up into a sitting position.

“I really don’t want to get up.”

“Then don’t? Just stay here. We don’t ever have to leave this room again.”

“As much as I love you, I’m not sleeping with a face full of makeup,” You begin to slide off the bed before you realize what you just said.

Oh fuck. Did you just admit you loved him after not even five minutes of being in a relationship?

“You love me?” He gripped your wrist, but didn’t spin you like what he did earlier. This time he let you stand still in shock of your own words. In every other situation you would have run away or made some excuse. But you wanted to be different. You didn’t want to be so easily intimidated by intimacy or vulnerability anymore. You really did love Tom, you always have, even if it took you a little longer than him to realize it.

Maybe instead of avoiding it, just go with it.

“Yeah, I do,” You smile full-heartedly at Tom, delicately biting your lip. A part inside of you bursted open, unlocking all sorts of emotions you didn’t know how to comprehend or express.

“I love you too, So much,” You both lean in to share a passionate kiss, but you cut it short to seriously push him off of you, so you could leave and wash up. If you didn’t have an ounce of self-control for the both of you, you would never leave this hotel room. Tom was clearly the insatiable one.

“If you don’t come back to my bed in five minutes, I’m dragging your ass in here. No warnings,” Tom says before you strut out of his room completely naked. You hear him groan to himself, which makes you giggle like a young school girl.

Walking to your bathroom, the same uncontrollable smile etches on your face like the one you had when you returned to the hotel. You splashed icy cold water to your heated cheeks and tried to rub away the plastered grin, but nothing could dull the adoration you felt for the other man in your hotel room. Instead of trying to erase it, you stared and allowed yourself to feel the emotion without running away from it.

A girl in love with her best friend.

A boy in love with his best friend.

Best friends who are stupidly in love with each other.

–

this was wayy longer than i thought. i liked this a lot more than i thought i would, too. i hope you enjoyed it just as much :D

tags: @lnmp89 @crybabyddl @pretty-npeach @marine-mayday @aerangi @justanotherpasserby-blog @tinafuentes @moniffazictress11 @eywaheardyou @alwaysclassyeagle @mrstealuregirl @bisexual-desi @sherlockstrangewolf @madsttx @graywrites20 @bradtomlovesya @raajali3

crossed out= not able to tag

#shawnxstyles #tom holland #tom holland smut #tom holland fan fics #tom holland fan fic #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader #tom holland one shot #tom holland fluff #tom holland best friends to lovers #tom holland friends to lovers