#the only thing i took away from that stream is that getting dicked down by lugia or groundon is . certainly a way to go out | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

privitivium · 2 months

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can you write another Yan streamer x m!reader but have it yan!streamer invite reader to his stream for some gaming and chat actually liking reader a bit more than yan!streamer or just trolling on him, then maybe after the reader and yan!streamer start talking about dicks again and reader mocks yan!streamer saying he probably cums quick like a virgin, and then it inevitably leads to them jerking off together on a video call both mocking each other about how their faces look or the noises they both make just a angry video jerk off sesh.... and if I had to use like the terms you listed on your rules probably a domtop m!reader x dombot yan!streamer vibes, both fighting for dominance but reader wins ^_^

sorry it took so long, havent been getting lotta inspo to write for streamer yan ....... sorry for any mistakes mwah

yandere amab streamer x loser amab reader

[ his name is ambrose. he just looks like an ambrose shh. ] cw;; masturbation, creep streamer - mentions of stalking

it's a wonder how he manages to live so long. this goddamn idiot… he, ambrose - a friend, some weirdo streamer ( who you watch on the down low ) who invited you on his stream.

skeptical of course, as anyone would be really… like, would you be doxxed for hanging out with this guy??? he did have quite the following - ( you werent about to admit that he's pretty ), so it'd be a bit normal to have a few threatening comments directed at you.. haha. but that didn't seem to be the case at all! entering with the line, “you ruined my cloud watching.” when in reality you were just fucking around on your computer with no intent to play nor bother nor be bothered nor cloud watch - stealing the attention quite easily with idiotic one-liners after you kill him. the score, 10 to 3. how embarrassing for him…

“you literally keep giving yourself away, what's wrong with you?” you grunt, annoyed. yet humorous... not watching his stream for once to take him down for once… how commendable. but with one quick glance at his chat would tell you all you need to know, really… they seemed to favor you. your “cloud-watching” really got through to them, huh??? ( of course it was ambrose talking about you to his chat beforehand ) ah - in the midst of reading the flirtatious and ego-boosting comments, you were killed in your hunkered down position by melee.. yeah fuck this guy. grumbling to yourself as he laughs at you, face growing warm - anger or embarrassment? both.

“dude, just say AFK?” ambrose snorts, acting as though you are stupid. fuck you can't stand that tone of voice… obviously, you actually being pissed off is something he immediately takes note of - after a few more minutes of badgering you, he decides to end the stream. a sorrowful goodbye from his chat to you… how sweet.

ambrose humming in delight, clicking away and immediately running around the map to figure out where you respawned. if only he could stream snipe you like you do him... the second best thing is just watching you on a smaller monitor playing in your room. jerking off every other night like a crazed freak... him to you. he cant help himself, alright?!ㅡ“what do you know? who just got knifed in the throat?” that smug little bastard. in a private room, 1v1 on a relatively huge map… just for the comedic appeal for his viewers as he told you over messages

ㅡ“fuck you, i was away from keyboard!!”

“good game..” he says after an awkward throat clearing - squirming in his chair, trying to keep his tone from wavering…

“whatever, fuck you…” obviously having no other insult other than the classic fuck you. you grimace at your words, knowing you could've done better - done worse, commenting on his physical appearance again, or even mentioning dicks. but you were… hn. thinking about something else. jerking off after this ends…

ㅡ"yeah, yeah, i bet you dream of that…”

“no… who would want to dream of fucking a two-pump fuck like you?” you wrinkle your nose, grinning mischievously as you exit the lobby - relaxing back in your chair… “you wouldn't last.” you say simply, glaring over the camera at his form over the monitor.

ambrose scoffs, jerking his head back in disbelief. was he really talking this way to his object of affection? this is just like the dick thing all over again. he already feels his dick itching - precum smearing and staining his boxers as he aches uncomfortably in-between his legs.. “you probably can't last long… you seem like the type of virgin to cum right when he sticks his dick inside someone. or even something.. ” he huffs - a bit too nonchalantly. you weren't even on stream to be play fighting like this - ( doing it mostly for attention and because it's just your attitude - ) yet here you were.. “you seem to be the type to just use toys cuz he can't get anyone to let him fuck...” he grumbles under his breath, obviously picked up by his high-quality mic- it seems your comment hurt him, huh…?

“naah…” you shake your head, lackadaisical. “i pride myself in lasting long.” with multiple long lasting sessions of edging - yes, you couldn't not gloat. and this fucking guy would have no way of knowing if you were being serious or not… of course - ambrose knew this. he knew all too well of course?? spying on you, masturbating to clips of you jerking it - one so reminiscent it pops into his head doing his daily routine... your thighs trembling from overstimulation of not cumming, your head thrown back against your chair, fist gripping at your dick and languidly stroking... teasing yourself. augh..

ambrose pauses for a brief moment - looking off camera and fiddling with his keyboard. a moment of awkward silence… you fear you went too far with your teasing before he breaks the uncomfortable quiet withㅡ“why don't you prove it?”

ㅡhuh?

“prove it?” you repeat, dumbfounded and glancing at the monitor displaying his face - jumping slightly when you see him already glaring into you, immediately looking away. “prove it by what, jerking off in front of you?” you scoff at the idea - definitely open to it. it sounds like something you jerked off to once anyhow - and to live it out with this fucking jackass tryhard? hm.

“... yeah. let's see who'll last the longest…” ambrose shrugged, all “cool-like”. “actuallyㅡno.” he shakes his head, grinning smugly as he runs a hand through his shaggy brown hair, playing his chill-relaxed guy persona.. “i already know it'll be me, no need to embarrass you.” he snorts, shaking his headㅡ

he gets anxious after you don't reply for the next minute. you couldn't help it - you were thinking excruciatingly hard about the offer - jacking off to each other, technically? well.. don't mind if you do…

“... sure.” you finally decide, pursing your lips and making a point not to look at the screen displaying his face, fiddling with your keyboard. “i'll win. you're a fucking virgin, after all..” still getting one last grumbling insult in… sounding utmost serious about the whole ordeal, and he was sure you would. he ... really, realistically, wouldnt last a minute...

“s-sure??” he questions, making sure he heard you correctly - seriously? SERIOUSLY SERIOUS? already fumbling with his pants - dick hard from just talking to you, the person he held deep affection forㅡ

"y-you look.. so .." you exhale deeply, biting harshly on your bottom lip as you thumb the slit of your cock; warm spit-covered palm gripping softly, up down up down.. urk-! head tilted back and glaring into the monitor that displays his frame, shirt pulled up revealing his abdomen and a full shot of his cock that he was abusing- you can't finish your first sentence, it was supposed to be an insult... but the coiling of your lower intestines distracts you - and you try to dissuade your bodyㅡ”really… i can tell you're seriously holding back.” trying to act all nonchalant while beating your dicks on video chat.. fucking nerds.

"y-you're one to talk, look at you!!" he hisses, almost slamming his hand on the table as he grips the base of his cock. jesus. fucking loser ass nerds. "you're clearly about to cum. j-just look at your faceㅡwhat, do i get you off?? cmon, you can tell me.."

tell him that he gets you horny? as if, that fucking creep.

#ocs =͟͟͞͞★#streamer yan :3 #male reader #x male reader #top male reader #dom male reader #x dom male reader #x top male reader #dombot male character #bttm male character #yandere oc x reader #yandere x male reader #yandere male x reader #yandere m x m reader #yandere male x male reader

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kvtie444 · 6 months

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‧₊˚ TOXIC

A/N: sorry this took so long I decided last minute to go across the country lol + this turned out more of a toxic situationship im sorry - also just imagine chris has a car and drives pls, LMK WHO WANTS A PART 2

Summary: being in a situationship w chris lol kinda toxic tho

Warnings: very heated making out, arguing/ swearing, toxic???

・₊✧⋆⭒˚｡⋆

"Im sorry, bby" Chris's text message read, and as I read those words on my phone, a mixture of frustration and resentment washed over me. I turned off my phone, deliberately ignoring the stream of missed calls and messages from him. Unbeknownst to his brothers, Chris and I had been entangled in a complicated "friends with benefits" situation. It all began this summer night at a party; we were both intoxicated, and one thing led to another, leading to an intimate encounter with "no strings attached."

However, Chris, being Chris, desired something more than just casual encounters. He wanted me all to himself and went out of his way to prevent me from getting involved with anyone else. He used psychological manipulation, and at times, openly discouraged other men who expressed interest in me. Yet, he continued to see other girls on the side. Last night I was on facetime with Nick, when he obliviously told me about a girl named "Gia" staying the night with Chris.

How could he date others whilst expecting me not to do the same?

My phone vibrated again, and the message "come outside" illuminated the screen. With an exasperated sigh, I headed downstairs. Fortunately, I had just returned from hanging out with my girlfriends and still looked presentable. Grabbing my keys, I stepped out of my front door, locking it behind me. I saw Chris parked in my driveway, his eyes locked onto mine as I approached. I got into the passenger side without a word, keeping my gaze fixed forward.

"Hey," Chris said, his voice barely a whisper as he leaned in to kiss my temple, followed shortly by a chuckle leaving his lips. My anger was palpable as I turned my head to glare at him.

"Don't push me, Chris. I swear to fuck if you keep acting like a dickhead when we BOTH know how much you fucked up, I'll lose my shit," I warned, my hand raised to my temple.

The car fell into an uncomfortable silence before he finally spoke up. "Listen, Y/N, I'm sorry. I’m not gonna lie to you, that girl gave me head, but that's it, I promise." My stomach sank, as I had expected as much, but some part of me had hoped it wasn't true.

"That's not the point, Chris! Why do you get to see other people, but I can't?" I quickly retorted, my hand now rubbing my temple in frustration.

Another awkward silence filled the car, and I reached over to open the door. "Y/N," he called, but I ignored him and stepped out, slamming the door behind me. He hastily rolled down his window and yelled, "Y/N, get back in the car." I slowed my steps, torn between walking away from someone so infuriating – but the other half of me just wanted to shut him up and sit on his face (😋)

I turned around and re-entered the car, turning my body to face him. I looked over all his features – his ruffled brown hair under a backward cap, slightly dilated pupils, and enticing pink lips. His silver chain hung nicely over his white tee, and I couldn't help but imagine how I wanted it dangling over my face again.

Our eyes locked, his gaze occasionally piercing into mine before settling on my lips. His hand cupped my face, while the other soothingly caressed my arm. "The only reason I act like a dick is because I care about you. You know that, right?" His eyes staring into mine, and his tone softened, filled with affection, the tone that had a chokehold on me.

I nodded and leaned in, our lips crashing together in a passionate kiss, quickly turning into a make out. He pulled away, trailing kisses down my jaw and neck, leaving a trail of marks. "Mine," he murmured against my skin, sending shivers down my spine. He unbuckled his seatbelt and pushed his seat back, creating space in front of him, and guided me by my waist to straddle his lap, resuming our make out session.

I broke away to tear off his shirt from his body, then leaned down to paint his neck with a trail of hickeys, matching the ones he'd given me. "don't want any other bitches looking at you," I said, pulling back and gripping his face, locking eyes with him. He smirked, his hands firm on my hips, sending butterflies through my body. "mm, I'm all yours baby," he replied in a low voice. His right hand slipped under my shirt, sliding up my back to pull me closer for another kiss. His hands removed my shirt, and they found their way to my hips, gripping them with bruising intensity, pressing me against him as he grew hard. My hands dipped lower, teasing the waistband of his pants. "God, you drive me so crazy," he whispered, out of breath.

Our intense moment was suddenly interrupted by his ringing phone, connected to the car's aux, blaring loudly. I turned my head to see the caller ID, reading "Gia."

・₊✧⋆⭒˚｡⋆

#angst #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #fluff #imagine #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #smut #sturniolo triplets #Spotify

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hypewinter · 4 months

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Bruce sighed. He was in over his head. Wayyyy over his head. Honestly he only had himself to blame. Really what was he thinking? He'd taken in one child and suddenly thought he was an expert in traumatized youths? He'd been overconfident and rash and now Danny was suffering for it and would probably hate him forever now and-

"I can hear you fidgeting through the door!" Came a voice that broke Bruce out of his spiral. There was a shuffle before the heavy wooden door swung open. A boy with floppy black hair and ice blue eyes stared up at him.

"You could've just knocked ya know?" Danny said.

Bruce fidgeted a little more, embarrassed that he'd been caught. "Bu- I thought you were-"

"Still mad at you?" Danny interrupted. "Yeah, I can tell by your face. You didn't even bother to wipe off your eyeshadow."

It was true. Bruce had rushed through patrol and gotten back home as quickly as possible. He'd barely shed his armor as he practically tripped over himself trying to get up to Danny's room. He had come up with and memorized the perfect apology to smooth things over between the two of them and had been dying to get it out before he messed anything else up. But now all the words he'd rehearsed left him.

"Wait. You're not angry?"

Danny leveled him with a blank stare as he leaned on the door frame. "Oh I'm always angry. Just not at you. At least not right now."

Upon seeing Bruce struggle to form words, Danny continued. "You were right," he said. "I shouldn't have beat up Dylan and his little minions. I knew they were intentionally trying to goad me into hitting them and I did it anyway. I-I'm sorry."

For the first time since their conversation began, Danny looked away. His look of mild annoyance was now replaced with one of shame.

"I just- they were making fun of my family. Saying stuff like 'they were small town trash and no one would miss them'. And that comment just set me off." Tears were now springing to Danny's eyes as anger took over his features.

Danny's hands balled into fists as he continued. "I couldn't just let that go. Especially not when they're the ones that are trash. They're so bothered by a 'commoner' wearing the same uniform as them that they feel the need to persistently bully me even when I have nothing to do with them. We don't share any classes, I eat lunch alone, I'm not in any clubs or extracurriculars and if I had a choice I wouldn't even be going to that damn school to begin with!"

Tears were freely streaming down Danny's cheeks as he stopped to catch his breath. His whole body was shuddering with fury. Bruce carefully put a hand on the boy's shoulder, ready to back off if Danny pulled away but he leaned in instead. Given the go ahead, Bruce carefully pulled Danny into a hug, slowly patting his back.

It took a while before either of them spoke. "I know what they said was out of line," Bruce started. "And trust me, they'll definitely receive punishment. But-"

"I know, I know," Danny murmured, turning his face to the side while still clutching onto Bruce's shirt. "Sending 5 boys to the hospital with my training is still bad."

After staying like that for a while, Danny finally looked up at Bruce. "Am I gonna be expelled?" he asked.

Bruce gave a soft smile. "Don't worry. You'll be fine. I promise."

Danny finally pulled away, rubbing at his face with his sleeve and returned Bruce's smile with a toothy one of his own. "You're gonna bribe them or something aren't you? There's gonna be a conveniently placed donation or something. You're just like those rich pricks," he teased.

"Heyyyy! How come Danny gets to cuss?" came a small voice from beyond the shadows of Danny's room. Soon enough, Dick made himself seen, Zitka cradled in his arms as he sleepily stolled forth.

"He's not," Bruce answered quickly. They had just convinced Dick to use more "colorful" insults as opposed to outright cursing and Bruce for one was not willing to face Alfred's wrath if he reverted back. A side glance at Danny told him the exact same thought was running through the boy's mind too. Leave it to Alfred to put the fear of God into two vigilantes who beat up criminals every night.

Dick yawned as he reached out for Bruce. "Then why'd he just say-"

"Don't tell Alfred and you'll have my dessert for a week," Danny interrupted in a panic.

Dick grinned. "Deal," he said as Bruce picked him up. The little boy blinked his eyes a few times before falling back asleep in Bruce's embrace.

Danny halfheartedly glared at the sleeping child. "I swear that kid is gonna grow up to be a politician the way he manipulates like that."

All Bruce could do was sigh. After all Danny was probably onto something. Dick knew very well the influence he had on others and never shied away from using it. It was very likely that he would be holding this particular little incident over their heads for at least the next two weeks.

Bruce looked at Danny, a thought suddenly dawning on him. "Why was Dick sleeping in your room? Did he have a nightmare again?" he asked, shifting the conversation.

Danny shook his head. "Nah. He just insisted that we both make up. He wouldn't leave until I agreed. That kid really doesn't know the meaning of 'no'."

Bruce felt his heart melt as he looked down at the boy in his arms. Why was Dick such a sweet child?

Danny grinned as he started heading downstairs. "Don't get all sappy yet. He was also walking me through his plan of how he got back at Dylan and his gang for my suspension."

The smile dropped from Bruce's face. "Wh... what do you mean revenge? Danny? Danny!?"

I told y'all I'd do it myself if I had to.

#dp x dc #dc x dp #dpxdc #dcxdp #winter's tales

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drunk-fantasies · 9 months

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breakfast in bed

+18 content, minors dni

bf!jake x fem!reader / prior somnophilia consent, handjob, oral (m. receiving) / a/n as you may have already noticed, i really have something with somnophilia and sub jake 🤭 / mlist

explicit content under the cut!

opening your eyes, the first thing you saw was how jake was cherubically sleeping. his whole demeanour in the morning was much different from his neediness in the evening. he could fuck the soul out of you only to sleep peacefully with the most pure pout on his face. his duality turned you on, the way he would rail you with an ease being just as appealing as his whiny state whenever you put him on edge by waking him up with your head between his legs.

today was no different. knowing how much of a light-sleeper he is you didn’t waste time to paint his skin with marks but just crawled under the sheets and swiftly took off his boxers. you wanted him to stay asleep as long as it was possible, so at first your movements were nothing next to rough. you spit on his length and watched how it hardened at your hand going up and down on him all in painfully slow motions. he started squirming under your touch and a few whines left his throat. his breath got quicker indicating he was about to wake up.

he opened his eyes and saw your form under the covers. “y/n?” jake moaned, raising bed sheets slightly to look at you, now fully awake, thanks to your neediness.

his voice was your cue to finally wrap your mouth around his cock and push it all the way down your throat. the sensation of your throat hugging his dick and the sight of you sucking him off first thing in the morning made him throw his head back on the pillow.

now that he was awake you didn’t refrain from making all kinds of sounds, from moaning on his cock to slurping all the spit that spilled from your mouth.

he wanted to get a hold of your head but you quickly took his both hands to pin them on the sides of his hips. he whined loudly at the lose of any control over you, only thing remaining was bucking his hips against your face. he tried to stop himself from doing that but the way you looked at him made it extremely hard to not do anything. at first his just raised his hips to meet the back of your throat, but you pulled away from his length.

“fuck!” he cursed at the loss of contact as he was really close.

raising from his crotch you faced him and grabbed his jaw. “you can either be patient or not cum, choose wisely,” you said in a low tone, seeing how it drove him crazy.

“please y/n,” he whined helplessly.

“what do you want?” your grip on his chin tightened to the point that the tips of your fingers turned white.

“please, don’t stop. i want to fuck your throat, please.”

his fucked up state and tone made you completely wet. you faced his erection once again and left a few kitten licks on his tip.

“then fuck my throat, jake.”

he hesitantly took a hold of your head and slowly started bucking his hips upwards, the tip of his dick hitting the back of your throat. soon his pace got quicker and you blinked a few times to let a few tears stream down your cheeks. gagging around him a few times you hollow your cheeks to add to a pleasure. not long after his cum filled your mouth and you swallowed all of it. his thrusts became more sloppy and soon he stopped, falling on a mattress.

“that was amazing,” he mumbled, in daze.

smiling at his already tired form, you came closer to his ear only to whisper: “i’m not done with you yet.”

#enhypen #enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours #enha hard hours #enha smut #enhypen x reader #enhypen x you #enhypen jake x reader #enhypen jake hard hours #enhypen jake smut #jake hard hours #jake hard thoughts

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placeinthemiddleofnowhere · 1 year

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How does it look? Ah, it’s an improvement

Pairing: König x Reader

Summary: You’re determined to find out why everyone thinks König is so scary, afterall he’s just some guy that’s taller than most people right? He’s probably harmless! Well, he’s a little scary, but you still like him anyway.

(No use of y/n or mention of gender/race)

AN: Ok, so another gap between updates, but for everyone that's still here, I hope you guys enjoy it, your comments and asks give me life 💕

Part 6 of A Rocky Start - Full Masterlist Here

-☠️-

In the days after your little run in with König at the gym, things had been tense with the guys. So much so that until you could find time for a ‘covert’ date, you’d tried to avoid him like the plague. Of course that meant that he was open to attack from the rest of your team, but you figured, what harm could they really do? Well as it turned out, after finally lifting your self imposed ban, he’d said they’d been on him like bloodhounds.

Apparently there was no limit they would reach to defend your honour, not that it needed defending in the first place (but you couldn’t tell them that). After a mixture of the guys trying to warn him, threaten him, jump out at him, knock his tea off of the counter and throw his food in the bin, they’d made it difficult for König to do much of anything around base. Your mind had buzzed in a near constant state of anxiety, waiting to see what they’d do next.

Luckily for your frayed nerves and König’s safety however, they stopped being as harsh to him as time went on. In only a couple weeks in fact, they’d stopped attempting to jump him and threaten him away from you, and instead took to glaring at him and giving him what you called the ‘school girl treatment’. Sure, bitching about him and saying they couldn’t wait to put Ex Nihilo in the ground once and for all so they could flush out KorTac wasn’t particularly helpful for team morale, but it meant that you didn’t need to worry about your lover getting shanked anymore.

If you were being honest, you couldn’t help but feel he deserved it a little given it had been his bright idea to rile you up in the first place. That’s what you get for trying to show off in front of Ghost. However that didn’t mean you didn’t still worry for him, far from it. You were practically biting your tongue off whenever König would happen across your path.

“Didn’t anyone tell you the love of your life aint in your chain of command Soap?”

“Oh shut the fuck up!”

You snorted as Soap shot you a glare. He’d momentarily distracted himself from pinning Ghost only to end up rolled over and under the heavy frame of the Lieutenant - who he’d only just managed to hold down himself. His body landed on the ground with a thundering crash, and at the very same time he let out a small ‘oof’ you held your hands at your mouth and tried to hold back on the stream of laughter threatening to burst out. Not that that was any use, you were breaking in no time, squealing like a kid. Served him right for getting cocky. He’d been leaning hard into Ghost, his eyes level and lips caught in a ridiculous smirk.

“Looks like the next rounds on you again, Johnny boy!” Ghost chuckled, releasing Soap before he snapped something.

“No! No, no, no, I call bullshit on that,” Soap huffed, jumping to his feet like a jack in the box. “The only reason you won was because that little dick couldn’t keep their mouth shut.”

Your fellow sergeant held an accusing finger up at you, his face going pink in anger. Sore loser. You gasped in mock offence then proceeded to shoot him your best puppy eyes and shrugged, perfecting a show of innocence that would make an angel weep.

“Me?”

“Yes you! Love of your life’s not in your chain of command’,” he echoed, pitching your words up like a little girl. “Fuck off!”

“I don’t sound like that,” you sniggered, watching as his face got redder. “Don’t be a sore loser Soap.”

Soap hit the mat just shy of his thigh, pounding it as if it were a way to wage revenge, working himself up as you and Ghost continued to laugh like hyenas.

Ghost eventually joined your side, he picked up the water bottle he’d abandoned by his workout gear and took a long gulp, huffing as he lowered the bottle back down. Ghost’s breathing was laboured and you could smell the sharp stench of sweat coming off of him in waves, apparently even with your intervention, that hadn’t been an easy victory. You knew that well enough yourself, you were only barely able to beat him sometimes, he’d earned his nickname just as much as you’d merited yours.

“I almost had the bastard this time!” Soap huffed, slumping. “If it hadn’t a’ been for you.”

“Well, if it makes you feel better I’ll pay for it,” you offered, rising to your feet. “Given you both go get a shower, you guys fuckin’ stink.”

Soap smirked at that, his eyes regaining their lost spark as if he’d been given a jumpstart. You didn’t care for it.

“Really? I don’t think I smell too bad,” Soap said, his voice taking on an edge again. “C’mere, let me make you really pay for it!”

“Wait, what are you- ew! No! Get away from me!”

You squealed as Soap made a dash for you and hopped out the way from his grabbing arms, jumping away like a scared cricket. Unfortunately he was blocking the exit, forcing you into the corner of the room, keeping you on the edge of your toes while he held his arms up, torturing you with the threat of a hug. It took everything in you to keep track of where the mats were and not to slip on the shiny wooden floors, squeaking with every step you took as you frantically traversed the hall.

“It’s just like you said Sneaky, can’t fraternise outside my rank. Guess that just leaves you!” He laughed, making another unsuccessful lunge at you.

“I’m sure Gaz…is around here somewhere,” you said, breathing hard as you continued to duck and dive from him.

Despite Mactavish’s best efforts, you still managed to elude him. When he leapt for you, you strafed away and even when he’d successfully grab your arm, you’d break his hold before he could wrap you in his stinking death grip.

You were so close to the exit now. You’d danced your way there, too busy walking backwards and throwing Soap off of your intentions that you were taken unawares when you backed into something solid where an empty doorway should’ve been. It was only when two familiar big hands drew round your frame to steady you, that you realised exactly who you’d bumped into.

“Careful Sergeant,” König said, his voice surely thick with a grin. “I see training in the 141 is as rigorous as ever.”

You sigh, taking a cautious look over at Ghost who has his eyes locked on the offensive figure behind you. Even as Ghost stood there smelling like week old laundry he’d acted as if König had dragged putrid roadkill into the room and asked him to take a bite.

“You wanna test how good our training is, König?” Soap barked, puffing his chest out like a cartoon gorilla.

You rolled your eyes.

“No thank you, I’m afraid I’d get terribly bored.”

“Funny,” Ghost said plainly, tilting his head. “Maybe we could find out how interesting you find us once you let go of Sneak. Could make sure those dirty mitts don’t linger too long again.”

You could feel his fingers dig into your skin, and with just a cursory glance up to the slits in König’s mask, you knew he hadn’t been meaning to clutch onto you for so long. Though, even in your haste to be subtle you didn’t miss the wink he gave you when he let you go, or the way his fingers brushed against you like falling silk. Clearly someone had been missing you. Probably as much as you’d missed him.

“Apologies,” he’d said, not able to resist whispering after, “lucky for him he doesn’t know where these ‘mitts’ were last weekend.”

You choked on your next breath and turned so that your back was to the others before they could see your haunted expression. König was becoming a master of landing you in the shit. Even as you tried to glare at him, your paranoid mind wondered if they could see your body buzzing with worry.

“Why are you here, König?” you asked, voice shaking with a hundred different emotions.

Even under the darkness of his full hood, König’s eyes sparkled with mischief and you didn’t miss the playful raise of his brows. He was continuing to wage war on you, even when you giving him the ‘stop fucking with me’ look. He was going to hear about that later.

“Curiously enough, Price sent me. He wanted me to tell you to come to his office.”

Everyone’s breaths were collectively stolen from the room.

“Price? Price asked you to talk to Sneak for him?” Soap said dubiously, first to ask before anyone else could.

You were too busy wondering if he’d figured something out.

“Funny isn’t it?” König said, his gaze squarely fixed on you. “He was in a rush to sort something and unfortunately for him, I was the only one around. I think you’re being sent off on a mission.”

You didn’t miss the way his voice dropped in disappointment. If you were going away with Price then it was anyone’s guess how long you’d be away for. Last time he’d spirited away with Gaz he’d disappeared for days, and come back afterwards sagging like a melted ice cream. Whatever you’d be doing, it’d likely tire you out just as much and even if you were to come back through the weekend you’d likely be beat just the same. With that in mind, you knew it was unlikely you’d get to carry out your fun weekend plans with König. That meant it’d be a whole week’s wait until you got to meet with him again.

Fuck.

“Oh…thanks for letting me know.”

“Of course. Can’t ignore an order from the Captain.”

The ‘unfortunately’ didn’t have to be said, it hung in the air between you two like black clouds of smoke. It took everything in you to ignore him from then on, turning instead to your things and stuffing them into your pockets. Your ears burned as they traced his footsteps fading from the doorway, and your chest grew heavy knowing you’d be missing him like hell until you could see him again.

“Fancy that, Price going against his own orders,” Ghost said, folding his bulging arms over his chest.

Always looking for a fight.

“Fuck, probably didn’t even ask that cunt. The thing probably ate the guy that was actually supposed to come get Sneak,” Soap sniggered, finally emerging from his huff.

Oh yeah, they’d taken to calling König names now as well. They particularly enjoyed comparing him to a horrific bug monster which, even as childish as that was, was a little entertaining to you given you knew how much he hated that particular film when you’d tried to show it to him. He didn’t care for monster flicks.

“I don’t think he’d lie,” you shrugged, trying to diffuse the situation.

“Really? I think he’d stab his own mother just to get a giggle,” Ghost snorted.

Clearly you don't know him very well. You laughed even in spite of knowing that what your Lieutenant said wasn’t remotely true, maybe even because you knew how ridiculous it was. They had a lot of fun making him out to be a raging sadist when as far as they were aware he’d done no worse than them on the field. König would stab himself before a hair on his mothers head came to harm, he practically gave half his wage just to make sure she ate well every month.

“Maybe. Even so, I better go see what Price wants. Must be deadly urgent if he was desperate enough to send König,” you said, heading back toward the exit.

“True. Sure you don’t want a reassuring hug before you go?” Soap asked, making a move like he’d come bounding up to you.

“Nope! Not even if this is the job I die on,” you called, speed walking down the corridor before he got any bright ideas.

-☠️-

Just as König had said, you ended up pulled away with Price on reconnaissance. Now, while you’d much rather have been curled up in a hotel room with König and living out your lazy weekend plans, it turned out being away wasn’t all that bad. For one thing, Price was practically his old self with you again and for another it was good to get away from the rest of the 141.

Constantly having to listen to them verbally disassemble the man that you were secretly in love with was a lot and it took everything not to sit there and defend him sometimes. Even then that would just result in an uproar about how you let people treat you. At that point you’d take Price’s steady quiet presence and occasional rumbles about coffee and football anyday.

“You seeing anything Sneaky?”

Price’s hushed voice crackled over your comms, the tiny earpiece was flooding with interference from the busy market. Crowds of people swarmed and overflowing stalls that were bursting with goods, with salesmen boasting about their produce and wares like it was the last day on earth to buy anything. The heat beat down on your back and your outfit did little to help with the glaring sun, one of the pitfalls of wearing baggy clothing to conceal weapons. Your scent mingled with the rest of the sweltering bodies that bumped your sides and moved around you, but most of all you scented the rich foods and the old antiques that filled the stalls. Your senses were going wild, overstimulated to the max.

“Not a fuckin’ thing,” you finally muttered.

You’d been sent out to intercept a meeting between two Ex Nihlio members, according to intel gathered from KorTac earlier in the week they were supposed to meet by one of the spice stalls. It was your job to route them out and figure out if they knew anything about Rousseau’s whereabouts. Only issue was that you were drowning in spice stalls. Both you and Price had taken turns dressing up like tourists with your big nikon cameras and neon bags and were playing a game of spot the terrorist cell with only a prayer that you hadn’t already missed them.

Price was taking his turn up on the roof, nestled conveniently in a skillion like a bird of prey about to strike, watching and waiting with his binoculars up and gun at the ready. You felt safe knowing he was with you, his mumbled words of reassurance kept you sane as you traversed the labyrinthian pathways over and over and had to pretend to take an interest in various trinkets.

However, you’d been on the streets for a couple hours now, you knew that soon enough you’d have to swap again and it’d be your turn to play sniper on the roof. That was - If your aching feet were anything to go by. You sighed and took a look around, deciding to do one last sweep around the stalls before you joined Price and relieved him of his position.

“Hold on Sneak, turn around - don’t be obvious,” Price said, voice coming in low and grizzled from disuse.

You froze in your spot and swallowed, committing yourself to your new task, taking a moment to look through your pockets before palming a warm penny. With a fake gasp, you sent it rolling behind you and leaned down, walking a few paces so that you could retrieve the penny off the ground while looking around for the source of Price’s interruption. When you looked up to the row of stalls across from you, you saw what he’d tipped you off on.

“Try to get in close.”

Situated next to an array of autumn coloured spice piles, were two men wearing dark shirts and trousers, talking hushedly to one another. While you couldn’t be absolutely sure that they were Ex Nihlio, you knew that it didn’t look like they were there to shop. You glanced away from them for a moment and set your sights on a curio stall next to them, stepping almost silently over the gritty path until you reached your target.

Their voices were low, coming in softer than a light breeze, but still you managed to catch a little of what they were saying and you knew the receiver would too. You tilted your head toward them, trying to give Price the best chance of hearing them too; all while you picked up a tiny bird figure barely bigger than one of your digits and held it to your eyes. You softly ran your fingers over the wood like you might bring it to life somehow and turned it this way and that, inspecting it carefully - it was important to make your fascination with the object look convincing.

“Your orders are clear, you are not allowed to move forward.”

“But we have everything in place, we’re ready! I don’t understand.”

The men were tense, their voices strained as they endeavoured to stay quiet.

“We have to be more reserved now. Ever since…he was taken and the tourists were found, things have been different. Plan’s changed.”

“What! because his-”

“Quiet! Not another word. This visit in itself was a courtesy only extended to you, we’ve had to stop everything we had planned, things have changed.”

“I don’t accept that. We have to keep the momentum going or we won’t be taken seriously.”

You breathed out quietly, watching as the stall owner started approaching you and you let a smile melt onto your face, trying to keep up the dumb tourist charade. The woman looked keen as she approached, face reminiscent of a fox’s with her eager golden eyes and high cheekbones. Her lips were curved into a grin and she hunched over the counter tactically surveying her eyes over your form. She was probably anticipating someone stupid, someone that could be easily fleeced.

“It’s a nice statue isn’t it? Are you interested in buying?”

“Uh, yeah I think so, it’s really cute,” you said with a short unsure laugh, trying to keep your voice low enough for Price to hear over. “How much is it though?”

Regrettably for her you weren’t going to be the easy mark that she’d assessed you as. Nevertheless, you still hoped to god she wasn’t going to ask for too much. You’d figured before setting out that you needed to buy some stuff so that you could blend in, but you hadn’t brought an awful lot and you’d already gotten some pastries and drink with the paltry change. Plus the little swallow, for all its tiny size, was very detailed, it’s little carved tail and wing feathers and dark wood would surely drive the cost up. Then there was also the fact that there was no way you’d be able to just accept the given price, you’d have to negotiate so that you had a reason for sticking around.

While you desperately strained to try and hear the argument ensuing between the two men next to you, you weakly haggled with the woman giving her numbers that her lips upturned like a direly unamused theatre mask. Eventually though you both reached an agreement and the little figure was yours, but now you had to work out your next move.

“‘We are from nothing, and we will fight each day until they can never reduce our names to the dirt again’- remember when that was our calling? Remember when we committed to a cause that day, does that mean nothing to you? We must act now!”

“It must mean nothing to you, if you are willing to risk everything just for a moment of glory.”

You didn’t have to struggle to blend in much longer.

A loud shot rang out above the swathes of people around you and suddenly the entire market descended into chaos and terror, people ran and screamed and hid; fleeing like pigeons. You looked over to where the two men had been and saw only one now as he rushed away into the crowd while the other lay dead and bloody on the ground. The man’s pupils were tiny pin pricks staring emptily into the glaring sun, all life torn from the deserted vessel of his body. He’d gone back to nothing after all.

“Price, I'm going after him.”

You tore your eyes from the dead man and chased after his killer, trying desperately to catch up as he faded into the crowds. You weaved and ducked, trying to remain discreet even still as you traced his path and took advantage of the wake he left in the crowd. He was like a speedboat tearing through choppy seas, disgruntled people were pushed to the side and made to move as he bulldozed through and gave you plenty of opportunity to follow.

“You need to stop, Sneak. We don’t know if he has friends hiding around the area! Do you hear me? Stop! Sneak, how copy?”

Price was too late. You’d collided with the man already, strategically shoving him into an alleyway and underneath your body. You both breathed hard, groaning as your knees and his back made contact with the hard ground, but neither of you could afford to feel it for long. He fought his way up, reaching for a knife he’d stowed in a thigh pocket and attempted to plunge it into you before you disarmed him, smashing his wrist against the wall and pounding it with your other.

“I got him pinned down, we’re in the alley a few streets up, he’s fighting back pretty hard,” you growled, thoroughly out of breath from trying to subdue the squirming screaming man.

“That’s not what I ordered!”

“Well what are my orders now?” you asked, gritting your teeth as you punched the man, narrowly missing being hit first.

Price didn’t speak for a beat, the silence was tense as you fought to subdue your target, filled with your gasping breaths and struggling bodies scraping against the grit like sandpaper. You could practically feel the steam that was pouring from Price’s ears coming in through the earpiece, sweat was pooling all over your body, exertion and heat were kicking in. After a moment, your captain finally responded through gritted teeth, his voice crackling all the more as you realised that he was on the move.

“Coming to you now. Hold him there.”

Easier said than done. You felt like a bull rider as you bucked around on top of the stranger trying to subdue his movements with as little force as possible. While it was important to make sure he was kept down and kept quiet, you couldn’t do too much damage or it was worthless even stopping him in the first place. Clearly this man was in contact with Rousseau or at least someone very close to him, so it was of the utmost importance that you brought him in lucid and ready to spill. Or rather spill after some convincing, the look in his eye was that of a man that wouldn’t give you any satisfaction for nothing.

His teeth were bared at you like an animal, one of them metallic and glinting in the sliver of light that emerged through the darkness. His eyes were wild like a feral lion. There was something about his face that terrified you in that moment, the sheer determination to kill you, the will of a man with conviction in his cause to tear you down. You had the upper hand though, finally you’d been able to reach the pistol you’d secreted away at your side and pulled it on him, holding it against him with a soundless ultimatum.

“Get the fuck off me! I’ll have your eyes for this, fucking scum!”

The man ranted and screamed, but even still you weren’t deterred from your task. You kept him pinned down with the gun snug at his temple, praying that Price would be there soon. Luck wasn’t on your side that day though, rarely ever was, suddenly you were sailing onto your back. Stars filled your vision, light melting as the sky faded far away. It was somewhat reminiscent of what you’d seen happen days before, Ghost on top of Soap after his failed victory, Soap stuck to the ground like a monkey under a tigers paw.

“Are you alright?” a voice asked.

Someone that you didn’t recognise, an accent you couldn’t place.

“I’ll be fine! Finish them off and let’s go,” your target responded.

You winced, expecting that to be your final moment, the last thing you ever heard was a dismissal of your efforts. Through the murky darkness two eyes flashed through your head, two crystalline pools that opened like planets in the empty space of your mind. In your mind, König looked back on you smiling, his watchful gaze always reminding you of an angel while he loomed over you, bare chested and warm just like he’d been at the hotel.

Had that been your last though you would’ve died happy, you decided.

Though you weren’t going to die that day, not yet. Another gunshot blasted through the atmosphere, ricocheting in your ears, but as you were still around to hear it and you weren't lying there in blinding pain - well not any more than you’d felt before the gun fired - you deduced the man had missed. Instead another man’s scream rang out and a flurry of footprints followed, scraping to get away.

You opened your eyes, finally able to see again, but felt blinding pain replace your stolen vision. It coursed through your skull and rattled through your back, making you hiss as you sat up and stradied yourself on your scraped up hands. Colours and shapes swelled and swirled before your eyes before condensing and becoming clear. Price took form in front of you seconds later, his hands tight on your shoulders as he grabbed you and gave you a look over, running his hand gently over your head as if you were his child.

“What the fuck did I tell you?” he muttered, eyes narrowing harshly as he realised you were ok. “You had no idea who else was there and wouldn’t you know it - who should show up, but one of his little friends”

“I…I already had him before you said to let him go,” you groaned, blinking furiously as you tried not to let the darkness at the edge of your vision take over.

“Is that right? Well, well done to you and your fucking initiative,” he groaned, “Look at you, you look like you’re going to fall apart. Are you ok, can you see?”

“Feels like it too,” you said, smiling weakly. “I can see, things just got hazy for a second there…Did you send the rest of the team after them?”

Price rolled his eyes, the bags under them looking pinched as he kept looking you over. Another group of soldiers had been kept on standby, ready to swoop in and drive you and whoever you might capture, but it didn’t look like Price was thinking of them then. He was focused on you, kneeling across from you and surveying for any changes. He let go of your shoulders, instead propping you up against an old crate that sat abandoned in the alley.

“Course I sent them,” he said eventually. “Don’t think they’ll catch up though.”

“Fuck,” you hissed, feeling the full weight of the blow to your head.

“How bad’s the wound?” you asked, wincing as your fingers came away from it with blood.

“Not bad. Not good either though,” Price deadpanned. “I’ll walk you out of here in a minute. I just want to make sure you’re going to stay awake.”

“Walk? You mean we can’t call an Uber?”

Price didn’t see the funny side of your joke, he shook his head and ran a hand through his beard, taking extra time to scratch as he reached the thicker sides. He was deep in thought, trying to process what had happened, and work out where to go from there. There was a look in his eyes he always got when he was catastrophizing, and you could tell he was in full crisis mode. His steady hands and stiff posture only served to throw off people that didn’t know him well enough.

“What is it?”

“Two of em’ have seen your face now.”

You had already thought of that.

“I know,” you said quietly, finally looking away from him.

Neither of you said anything else for a second. You focused in on the crowd behind you instead, the people that still rushed through the streets trying to avoid a silent threat that had already run far from their paths. Their voices and scampering feet echoed and danced through the alleyway, distracting you from your pain for a moment. Thought still coursed through you in the background, remained swirling through your body like a snake constricting around your brain and back.

“We need to get you out of here and get you to a medic.”

You nodded, you wouldn’t fight him on that. A medic would have pain killers. You tried to rise on your own, gripping the rough wooden crate like a lifeline, but found yourself almost collapsing again until Price rushed to your side and held you up, grunting as he bore your weight. Through the vignette of your fading vision you could see the tight lipped grimace he was giving you and knew you were probably sporting a similar look of your own.

“Don’t try to move on your own, let me help you,” Price growled.

“You gonna carry me all the way back to car?” you asked sceptically, remembering how far you had to go.

“Can’t bloody well leave you. We don’t know if that bastard’s got more friends hanging around.”

“You could stick me in another alley and bring the car closer?” you asked, already knowing what his answer would be,

“Not a chance. C’mon, get moving those feet. That’s an order!”

Stubborn.

You grit your teeth and felt the pain shoot through your back and curl up in your stomach as you moved. You knew you hadn’t broken anything, but you were still feeling the effects of getting winded and the weeping head wound wasn’t helping matters either. Bile rose in your throat at the thought and even as Price kept his arm slung tightly round you, you felt your feet waver and drag across the ground, felt your mind struggling to keep going as your body began to give up.

“Talk to me. Don’t give out on me now,” Price demanded, his breaths coming out punchy like wind hitting a sail.

“Talk about what?” you laughed, wincing with the movement.

“Anything. Keep yourself focused, talk about anything.”

“Ok,” you conceded, thinking for a moment as you were dragged through an empty street. “Why’d you send König to come get me the other day?”

“Really? That’s all you could think of?” Price scoffed.

You were in too much pain to feel any shame or hesitation about pushing. In fact, it was the perfect time to bring up König because there weren’t going to be many other chances for you to leverage a head wound to discuss the subject. It was the perfect thing to direct your energy on and keep you upright.

“You’re the one that told me I wasn’t to speak to him again,” you said measuredly. “It made me wonder why you’d send him to speak to me.”

“He was the only one around and the General wanted us gone ASAP.”

“You could’ve messaged.”

“I needed to make sure you knew to come right away.”

“Are you saying I’m not reliable?” you grinned, almost tripping on a fallen basket because you were so pleased with yourself.

You and Price stopped just before your feet could stumble over the fallen produce and rerouted around it, huffing with exertion. Price’s back was sweating just as much as yours and once again you found yourself cursing at the sun, vowing that you would never spend another minute more in the heat if it meant you could be sent to a cold room with a full deck of meds ready at your disposal.

“If you really want to know, I figured I could trust you now,” Price said, readjusting his grip on you. “After all that's happened.”

“Oh really?”

“Well you wouldn’t want to go near him now after what happened would you?”

You had to hold back a bout of laughter, disguising it easily with a cough. If only he knew.

“Suppose not,” you answered.

“It’s better that way…associating with a man like that, you’d only end up at the top of someone’s shit list.”

“You think he’s got enemies?”

“Why else do men like Ghost and König wear masks?” he huffed. “You’d be vulnerable with him, even if he is a one man army. He couldn't protect you if the people he’d pissed off came after you.”

You pursed your lips and looked toward the end of the street, sighing as you remembered the car wasn’t that far away. The last thing you needed when you were trying not to go wobbly was Price making you doubt König. Instead you faced forward and kept on marching, narrowing your eyes as you fought off the darkness.

-☠️-

“Are you absolutely sure that you like wearing that shirt?”

You laughed as König hovered above you, pausing in his assault on your neck so that he could play with the hem at your neckline. His hemline rather.

“You said you wanted to look after me this week, didn’t you?”

“Well yeah, but not at the expense of my only clothing,” he said, smiling at you with narrowed eyes.

You rolled your eyes at him and kissed him, planting your lips firmly on his so as to silence his protests. All was right in the world again. You’d been dismissed for a week because of your head wound, something about you having suffered from a concussion before so you were being forced to take leave and had decided to spend your time wisely. In other words, telling Price you were going to visit family, when in actuality you were shacked up in an airbnb close to the base so that König could come visit you and stay the night.

Eventually he broke away from you and shook his head, rolling off the bed and causing an earthquake, causing the springs to groan and for the mattress to shake like jelly beneath you. You watched him as he stood and stretched. His body illuminated by the streetlamps outside the windows, the dull yellow contrasting harshly with the dark blue shadows that snaked over his taut muscles, meeting like intertwined fingers at his ribs.

“Is it because it's the Rammstein one?” you asked, sitting up to admire him easier. “Because I’m taking good care of it.”

He shook his head again and made his way to the door.

“I know you’re taking good care of it. I just don’t have a lot of shirts to wear,” he explained, disappearing for a moment.

You huffed and folded your arms, obscuring the blocky logo in the tangle of your intertwined limbs. The guilt trip wasn’t going to work, this was your shirt. You felt like you’d earned it after you’d forgotten home comforts and stayed in a stranger’s house all to be with him. Not that he wasn’t taking fantastic care of you.

You watched as he came back in with a couple glasses of water and set them down on each of your respective bedside tables and disappeared again so he could grab two bowls, walking in with steam obscuring his face. You unfolded your arms, forgetting all about your upset and took in what he’d brought you. He’d heated some soup for you both and ensured that you were propped up nicely before placing yours in your lap, joining you at your side so that he could eat his. The smell of parmesan and vegetables drifted into the air, forcing your stomach to growl in anticipation.

“Thank you, König,” you hummed.

The soup was delicious. It was unmistakably from the Italian deli that König knew you liked to frequent as a treat and you’d deduced he must’ve been earlier in the day to pick up a takeaway just for you. Even if he were being a stickler about his clothes, he still remained sweet and ensured you had every little comfort you could want for while you recovered.

Truth was, you hadn’t really felt that bad once you’d been patched up and given a few Codeine. The pain in your head had dulled to a low thud and more than anything it was background noise to the host of other complaints you could make about your battle torn body. Though König wouldn’t hear of it. He demanded that you stay in bed as he fussed around you and cuddled you like a sickly kitten. It was a wonder you were allowed to even roam the apartment by yourself with the way he coddled you, a miracle you weren’t wrapped in cotton wool and shrunk into his pocket for safe keeping.

“Why is it that you’d want to wear one of my dirty shirts anyway?” König asked, breaking the silence.

You snorted, only just swallowing the spoonful of soup you’d taken and shrugged, a coy smile weaving its way onto your face.

“It smells like you. Makes me feel safe,” you said finally, only a smidge embarrassed.

“And what do I smell like?”

“I dunno…just like you,” you shrugged. “Manly I guess, and I can smell that stupid cheap citrusy soap you use.”

“Don’t belittle my soap just because you like to buy the best,” he retorted.

“That’s right, practicality over frivolity…How German,” you said with a sly smile.

He froze mid spoonful, just about to eat another before he paused and shot you a withering side eye. You’d delighted in finding out another way to tease him, getting to play with him all you wanted while you recovered.

“You call me German one more time, I’m taking the shirt off your back and leaving you naked to fend for yourself,” he said simply

“Oh c’mon, you’d never do that.”

“I just might,” he smiled, taking his last spoonful and letting the cutlery clatter to the empty bowl. “You know the difference.”

“In fairness you did live there for quite a while until you moved back again.”

“Yeah, and that's an even better reason for me to enjoy being Austrian.”

“Such a mean man, poor Germany!”

You playfully shoved at his thigh with your foot and giggled when he caught it in his hand and threw it back. It sent you both laughing and soon you abandoned your soup bowl onto the table and took your little game to the next level, diving onto him before you were promptly flipped onto your back and pinned under König, resuming your usual position.

“Poor Sneak,” he laughed ominously. “Still hellbent on defending the Germans?”

“If I say yes are you gonna do that thing I hate?”

“Only one way to know for sure.”

You huffed out a breath and weighed up your options, deciding if it was really worth being tickled just to keep teasing him. In the end, you didn’t get to decide, you winced as you felt a firework of pain burst through your head and closed your eyes for a second, bunching them shut like you could forget about it behind the darkness of your closed lids. Suddenly you were grateful you were lying down surrounded by the soft topaz sheets.

“Are you ok? Did I hurt you?” König gasped, stroking his thumb over your cheek.

“I’m alright, it wasn’t anything you did,” you assured after a second, taking in a deep breath. “I think it’s time for me to take my meds actually. Is it after eight thirty?”

König leaned up from you and rooted around for his phone. You prayed you were right.

“Yeah, Eight forty. If you sit up, I’ll get them out for you.”

You followed through with his request, inching up the covers and seething with every little jarring shake the bed gave you. It felt like your head was going to burst into a confetti cloud with the amount of pressure that was building. You couldn’t wait till the headaches were done with.

“Here, take these,” König murmured, handing you the pills and your forgotten glass of water.

You threw them back and drank down a big gulp of water, focusing on not choking as you swallowed them as fast as you could. This was one of the worst pains you’d had with it since it’d happened. Stars twinkled at the edge of your vision until slowly, after a little breathing and König stroking your back, you were able to open your eyes and stare back him as he watched you those big doleful eyes of his.

“I’m alright now, it’s ok,” you smiled, trying to reassure him.

“Mm, it’s far from ok,” König hissed, staring harshly to his side for a moment. “If I ever get my hands on those who did this to you, they’ll be sorry.”

You widened your eyes a moment as his fury sunk in and both of you stared at each other for a tense minute. You sat hoping your understanding of the situation might be infectious, wishing he’d accept that they’d just gotten the upper hand. What happened wasn’t personal. He shook his head and let the heat escape him, the fire left his eyes and deflated him, leaving him staring down at the bed a moment until you spoke again.

“I know how I’d feel if it were the other way around,” you sighed, knowing he’d need a little reassurance you weren’t going to run terrified. “But you don’t need to be angry for me. I’m fine, this’ll all be better in a few days, ok?”

He didn’t speak for a second, not until he looked back up at you.

“Ok.”

“Good. Now, c’mere and give me a hug so I feel better.”

His smile returned, curving back onto his lips like magic. You smiled in turn and watched as he put your meds back in the drawer by your bedside, but frowned when he paused and stared inside. He chucked the foil packet back in its place but reached in and retrieved whatever had caught his attention, bringing it front of you in the palm of his hand.

“What’s this?” he asked curiously.

You tilted your head and smiled as you realised it was the wooden swallow you’d unpacked from your bag earlier and shrugged.

“It was the bird I got from the market that day,” you explained. “I found it when I was going through my bag today and chucked it in the drawer.”

He raised his brows and brought the little figure closer to his face, admiring the fine details of it not dissimilarly to the way you’d stared at it in the market. You tilted your head as you watched him and bit your lip, watching the way his eyes took in the little bird with an intense fascination.

“Why don’t you keep it?” you offered. “And then you let me wear this for the rest of the week.”

You rolled your shoulders, showing that you wanted to keep the shirt. König chuckled, but after pretending to be deep in thought about it, sporting a deep frown and a pursed lip, he eventually nodded.

“I suppose I could allow that… we can have shared custody. I get the bird one week and then the shirt for the next,” he said, coming to rest by your side with his arm outstretched, making the bird fly in looping patterns in the air. “Deal?”

You laughed to yourself, but nodded, settling into his warm chest with a satisfied sigh.

“Sounds like a good deal to me.”

Next Part Here

#König #König x reader #konig x reader #konig #könig fanfiction #modern warfare 2 #modern warfare fanfiction #mw2 #a rocky start

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skinnyducky · 1 year

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in her defense // v.h.

a/n not gonna lie.. this was supposed to come out a LONG time ago. however, the og idea i had in mind just didn’t fit my writing style so i scrapped it and rewrote the entire thing. so, here’s what i came up with. hope you enjoy :)

p.s. i missed y’all soooo much !

vinnie hacker x fem!reader

Word Count: 1.3k, edited

WARNING: language, bladder mentions, and m*x. that is all.

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Surprisingly, dinner with Vinnie’s friends wasn’t as awkward as she thought it would be. This was her first time meeting them, and honestly, she was a bit nervous in the beginning. It’s not like she didn’t have a reason to be, though. Sure, it wasn’t like she was meeting his family, but still, these were friends. These were the people he spent the majority of his day with—besides her. Their approval meant everything to her because if they didn’t like her, that could definitely put a damper on her and Vinnie’s relationship, and she definitely didn’t want that.

The group had arrived at the fancy restaurant around nine. It was nearing eleven. They spent almost an hour and a half just chatting amongst themselves and sharing embarrassing stories they all had about Vinnie. It wasn’t until midway through Jack’s story of Vinnie almost electrocuting himself that Y/n felt the need to use the bathroom. She crossed her legs, fighting against her bladder in hopes that she wouldn’t miss this story. But her bladder was putting up a good fight, one that she was on the brink of losing.

She flew up from her seat and turned to Vinnie. "I’ll be back. Gonna go use the restroom."

Vinnie nodded in response, sending a smile her way. "Alright, babe. Take your time."

After pecking the boy’s cheek, Y/n sprinted to the restroom. Upon reaching the ladies’ room, she flew inside and stumbled into the nearest stall. "Oh, that’s nice." She smiled, relieving herself of the pressure on her bladder. Once she was done, she wandered out of the stall and towards the sink. As she began washing her hands, she took the time to check herself over, ensuring that she didn’t look like a complete mess. While she was doing so, she noticed something strange.. something that looked like it didn’t belong in the women’s restroom. Shutting off the sink, Y/n slowly turned around, hoping to herself that what she saw was just in her imagination. Unfortunately, it wasn’t.

There, clinging to the wall, just a few feet away, was a row of perfectly polished urinals.

"No way." she gulped.

There was surely a reasonable explanation for this, right? There had to be a reason for urinals being in the women’s restroom. After trying to come up with every possible explanation, Y/n concluded that she was in fact in the men’s restroom. It’s not like she strolled in here on purpose; she really had to pee and didn’t think to look at the signs on the door.

"I gotta get out of here." She started sprinting towards the door, ready to make her escape. But before she could even lay a finger on that door handle, she heard the sound of laughter coming near. But this wasn’t just any laughter; no, this was.. male laughter.

"Shit." She slapped her lavender-scented hand over her mouth and ran into a stall before she could get caught. Locking the door behind her, she climbed onto the toilet and crouched down so no one would see her head poking out.

The guys entered the bathroom, and based on what Y/n was hearing, there were only two of them. However, that wasn’t the only thing that she heard. There was something familiar about those voices. It only took a second for Y/n to recognize those voices as belonging to Vinnie and his good ol' pal, M*x.

"Jack's such a dick," Vinnie chuckled, his stream trailing behind his voice. "Thank god he didn’t say any of that in front of Y/n. She’d probably leave me in a heartbeat if she heard all of that."

M*x joined in on the laughter. "Can’t argue with that, man. Can’t argue with that."

It was silent between the two as they tinkled. The second they finished, however, M*x cleared his throat. "Uh, can I ask you a question?"

After flushing the urinals, both boys walked over to the sinks. "For sure. What’s up?" Vinnie asked.

"Are you positive she’s the one?"

The question made both Y/n and Vinnie confused. Based on how things were going at dinner, Y/n was confident she made a good impression on all of Vinnie's friends. Although, come to think of it, M*x was a bit standoffish. Maybe she didn’t leave as good a mark as she thought she did.

"Uhm, yeah. I’m pretty positive." Vinnie chuckled. "Why? Is something wrong?"

"I just.. I just don’t think she’s the one for you, dude."

"And why is that?" All traces of amusement had left Vinnie’s tone. Now, all that was there was curiosity, and a hint of anger.

M*x swallowed the lump in his throat before saying the unthinkable. "Not gonna lie, bro, I think she’s a hoe."

Y/n felt her nails dig into her skin as she fought back the urge to fly out of that stall and give that dickhead a piece of her mind. Who the hell does he think he is? He’s barely said two words to her, and already he’s come to that conclusion. What a douche!

Vinnie scoffed, clearly offended by M*x’s accusation. "What the hell, dude? Why would you think my girlfriend’s a hoe?"

"I mean, she was practically flirting with every guy at the table. You saw the way she got all handsy with Jett. Don’t act like you didn’t."

Now, Y/n was a believer in many things. She believed in ghosts, aliens, and mermaids, but not this—and she hoped Vinnie didn't, either. How could M*x mistake her being nice for flirting? And what the hell did he mean by her getting "handsy" with Jett? She was picking a piece of lint off his sweater. "Hmph, talk about jumping to conclusions," she thought.

"You know what, M*x, you’re an idiot." Vinnie stated.

This time around, M*x got offended. "Vinnie, how am I an idiot for telling you the truth? I’m just telling you what I’m observing, and from what I’m observing, your girlfriend is playing you."

"And that’s just it," said Vinnie. "This is what you’re observing, not anyone else."

"Bro, I’m your friend. Shouldn’t that count for something?"

"It would if you had solid proof, but you don't, so no, it doesn’t count for shit."

"Why are you acting like this man?"

"You just called my girlfriend a hoe and then accused her of flirting with you guys with no evidence whatsoever." Vinnie snarled. "How would you feel if I accused your girlfriend of flirting with us without any proof?"

Max was quiet.

"Right, you wouldn’t like it. So, if you've got some sort of issue with her, just say that. Otherwise, keep her name out your mouth. We good?"

"Yeah, sure. We’re good."

With that, the two boys exit the bathroom, the stench of tension following closely behind. Leaving the stall, Y/n couldn’t fight the smile that broke out on her face. She'd be lying if she said she wasn't concerned about Vinnie believing what M*x said. In situations like these, boys tend to believe their friends, and considering the fact that she and Vinnie hadn’t been together for that long, she really didn’t know if he’d see through the bullshit. Thankfully, he did, and Y/n couldn’t have been happier.

Escaping the horror that was the men’s restroom, Y/n practically skipped back to the table. Just before she sat down, she planted a kiss on Vinnie’s forehead.

He giggled, blushing like a schoolboy. "What was that for?"

"Just a thank you."

With furrowed brows, he asked, "For what?"

"For being the best boyfriend ever," Y/n replied. "Also, you’re gonna have to tell me what Jack said and why in the hell it would make me want to leave you."

"Yeah, for sure." Vinnie laughed. As he was about to stuff his face with a spoonful of mashed potatoes, he paused. "Wait, what?"

#vinnie hacker #vinnie hacker imagine #vinnie hacker x reader #vinnie hacker imagines #vinnie #vinnie imagine #vinnie imagines #vinnie x reader #vincent hacker #vinnie hacker fanfic #tiktok imagine #vhackerr

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demiesworld · 8 months

Text

quick oneshot of this thought i had in my mind of black!fem!reader (lowkey myself) being scouted at a mall by cameraman!gojo and asked if she wants to do something strange for some change. reader agrees to it, and then she's filmed in the mall parking in the backseat of some black van with tinted windows. amateurpornstar!geto is seated in the back, manspreading, looking fine af and is just checking reader out while cameraman!gojo asks her some questions about her. like asking her age, if she ever done this before, and what does she think of geto by first impression. ofc reader says she is legal age, never been on film, and says that she thinks geto is sexy.

"would you let him fuck you though?" gojo asks and reader shrugs her shoulders and says, "i mean only if he wants to fuck me." and bats her eyes over at geto. geto is just smirking like the cocky bastard he is, licking his lips at reader and tells her that he does in fact want to fuck her.

camerman!gojo tells reader to get comfortable with geto while he films geto taking off reader's shirt and pushing her breasts together as he squeezes them. like geto is so nasty with it. he spits on one nipple and sucks on it till it's hard then goes to nibble on the other one and spit on that too. reader is getting wet from this and camerman!gojo is lowkey getting turned on.

skip to when like reader has all of her clothes off and so does geto. she's kneeling above his lap with his fucking huge cock curved right up against her ass. camerman!gojo gets a close up of the reader's slick pussy slowly taking in geto's cock. the shaft already covered in her juices before all of it is even in.

"fuck her pussy looks so good on your dick man." gojo comments from behind the camera. in his head he's thinking, "this is going to make millions of views."

geto has his head thrown back against the head rest and his long black hair is out of the updo he wears. he says, "she's real tight though, satoru, damn... are you sure you're not a virgin?" he makes a joke and the reader is giggling shaking her head no.

soon enough you're riding geto in the backseat of the van like a wild woman and gojo is getting good angles of how you're doing it too. your cream mixing with geto's splatters in the van each time you slam your ass down on geto's lap. he's groaning from how good you're riding him, his hands gripping your ass cheeks and spreading them apart so the camera can see it more clearer. sometimes he spanks your ass cheeks hard, hurting a bit from the metal rings he wears on his long fingers.

you're moaning at each time his thick cock rams into your sweet spot. geto has his mouth attached to your sensitive nipples. his tongue licking, teeth gnawing, and lips suctioning on them. this isn't the first time gojo has seen geto fuck someone, but damn he's getting a little jealous that he's not getting any action from this.

geto suggests to get you from a different angle so he changes positions with you in the back. thankful the van is big enough for him to have you on your back with your legs in the air while he pounds into your sweet dripping pussy. he took the camera away from gojo and records his dick pummeling into you.

you could hear geto murmuring things like, "pussy feels so fucking good," "best pussy i ever had," "quit clenching on me like that g'na make me cum girl,"

geto leans his weight all onto you, folding your legs close to your shoulders and has you in a mating press. he had passed the camera over to gojo for this because of the position. it's a backshot of geto's dick ramming into your pussy and his heavy balls slapping against your ass while he does it.

in the end though geto ends up cumming inside of you (ofc they asked you off camera if you were on the pill and ok with a creampie). slipping his dick out with a wet "pop" and his cum leaking out of your hole in thick streams.

when you're both done fucking, gojo asks you if you would do something like this again and you say, "if it's with him," pointing to geto, "then hell yes." the three of you laugh and then that's when your eyes notice the bulge in gojo's pants and you ask him if he wanted for you to take care of it.

"huh? no, no, i'm fine you don't have to do that!"

you smile and you're like, "you sure? you were sitting there kind of uncomfortable for the past hour," and geto starts to laugh at gojo's red ears.

on pornhub the video has over two million views and it's with the title "HOT SEXXY AND YOUNG BLACK GIRL GETS HER TIGHT PUSSY RAILED BY HUGE JAPANESE COCK AND STUFFED WITH CUM (SHE TRIES TO SUCK OFF THE CAMERA GUY TOO!!!)" hundreds of thousands of comments, over 900k likes and thousands of shares.

notes: yeah this is messy what i wrote but idgaf i wrote smth while in this slump im in rn lol trying to get out from it yall!

#jjk smut #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #suguru geto #geto suguru #geto smut #gojo smut #geto x black reader #gojo x black reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x black reader #jujutsu kaisen

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flavorita · 1 year

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Hello, I could you write a smut Lilia vanrouge x fem reader? Where the reader has been getting really good grades and is just all around trying to make Lilia proud of her, so he decides to reward her. Lots of praise please.

Love your work btw

I love praise 🥺

Lilia Vanrouge x Fem!Reader NSFW 🔞

TW: praise, pussy licking, not proofread

"Hmmm, you got an A+ on Crewel's test again. Good job, Y/N."

You rubbed your thighs together, trying to hide your arousal while Lilia was placing the tea he had brought you two on a quaint table.

Lilia would invite you and Grimm to Diasomnia for the occasional chat with the enticement of good tea and tasty snacks. Good thing Grimm was stuck with Ace and Deuce for setting fire to the rose garden again.

"You must've studied hard. Passing Crewel's tests are no easy feat, after all." Lilia poured the tea into two porcelain cups, ignorant of the acts being committed behind his back.

"Here's your tea." Lilia had appeared next to you with a teacup and a saucer while you had been lost in your own world of pleasure.

"Oh! I see! Thank you, Lilia." Lilia raised an eyebrow at your strange behavior but decided not to question it as he took a seat in the chair next to yours.

"Y/N, your face seems quite red."

"It is?"

Before you can even turn around, Lilia glomps his hand onto your forehead. "Don't tell me you've studied until you've fallen ill." If your face wasn't red before, it was now as Lilia kept inching his face closer to yours. "How would the school function without their darling Prefect?" His thumb brushed over your lip as he gave a kitten lick to your neck. "Ah~", Lilia grinned into your neck upon hearing your moan. "Don't worry Y/N, I'll make you feel better."

Slurp

"Ah, Lilia~", your hands dug into his hair as he sucked at your clit and dove his fingers into your heat, scissoring you open and stuffing his face into your pussy.

“So sweet. So cute.” You could feel the huff of his breath with each word just as yours hitched when you felt a playful nip on your thigh.

You looked down when you heard a belt unbuckle only to feel Lilia slide his dick between your folds, his tip bumping into your puffy clit each time he rubbed it against your pussy.

"Agh, Lilia~"

He let our a chuckle as he pushed into your opening as you could only gasp and subconsciously grab at his shoulders. "Good girl, don't let go."

"Huh, ah~"

Your pussy squelched as Lilia began to ram into your insides while his fingers dug into your hips, using you like a fleshlight. The intensity of his thrusts made the bed creak as you held onto Lilia for dear life as tears began to stream down your face from overwhelming pleasure.

You felt a thumb flick at your face to wipe a few tears away as you locked your eyes with Lilia, only to moan when he licks your thigh. "I'm so proud of you, Y/N. Don't ever stop making me happy, okay."

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst x y/n #lilia vanrouge #lilia vanrouge x mc #lilia vanrouge smut #lilia vanrouge x reader #twst smut #twst lilia x reader #twst lilia smut #twst lilia #twisted wonderland x you #twisted wonderland fanfiction #twisted wonderland fic #twisted wonderland smut #flavorita #diasomnia x reader

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haveihitanerve · 2 months

Text

i apologize in advance.

Dick stared at the suit. The suit stared back. But no eyes filled the white holes. No straight lipped smile greeted him. The suit was empty. Its ears seemed wilted, though Dick knew that was just his imagination. He swallowed. “Y'know, it wont magically wrap itself around you.” Drawled a voice. “You have to actually put it on.” Dick turned to face his younger brother, Jason. But even with the cocky words and aloof demeanor, Dick could see it hurt Jason, hurt him deeply, perhaps not as deeply as it hit Dick, but he felt the empty suit just the same. Dick gave a shallow nod, not bothering the remarks with words. Jason swallowed. “Its what he would have wanted.” He offered quietly. Dick turned away. He didn't bother to contradict him. To tell him that despite what the others might believe, Bruce, his father, had never intended for any of them to don his suit. Although he had planned on them burying him. Not the other way around as had happened too many times. The soft padding of feet was the only sound of Jason’s departure. It was uncommon, nowadays, for the second Wayne child to leave without words of goodbye. But today… Dick understood today. He swallowed, and with shaking hands, opened the glass case.

The Batcave was silent. Not unusual, but it was unusual with all of the kids in it. The Batcave was never silent if the kids were present. It was something Bruce had always claimed he hated, but he had always smiled so fondly, so none had taken him seriously. But today it was. Steph was leaned against the desk, Tim in the Batchair next to her, his eyes on the Batcomputer, though he wasn't typing. For once, he was completely still. Cass, on the other hand, was pacing, her usually silent footfalls now making little scuffing sounds on the floor. Amplified by the lack of sound from the other kids, it echoed around them, almost as a steady heartbeat. The kids swallowed back their bile. Jason was propped on his motorbike, helmet held loosely in his hands. His guns were nowhere in sight. Damian sat at his feet, fidgeting. Duke, for once, was awake this late, and was twiddling his thumbs, gnawing on his bottom lip as he leaned against the far wall of the Batcave. Babs sat in her wheelchair next to where Cass was pacing, her laptop opened in front of her, but the screen was dark. Had fallen dark long ago. Selina stood, watchful, at the edge, watching all of them with keen eyes, but did not say a word. Could not find any. Alfred was in bed. He had not left it since… since the funeral. Finally, Cass’s pacing slowed, and she turned to the door, hearing things the other kids could not. All at once, the atmosphere changed, became even more charged, and they turned to the door. Steph, Jason, and Damian stood, and Duke pushed off the wall. They formed a small half circle facing the door, linking hands. As though they needed each other to get through this. Finally, the sound of walking alerted the others to what Cass had heard so much earlier. The steps were smaller, almost sluggish, but as they neared the door they picked up, almost as if forcing cheer and pep into their step. The sounds slowed and finally stopped just before the door. “Ready?” he called quietly. They locked eyes, and slowly nodded. Batman stepped into the Batcave, and promptly keeled over, vomiting.

Selina rushed to Dick’s side in an instant, but the other kids couldn't move, frozen in place. Even Selina hesitated as she neared, slowing to a shuffle. Before she reached him he had straightened, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He raised himself to his full height and made eye contact. Damian started shaking. Jason fainted. Tim looked green. Babs spun her wheels, turning away. Steph had her hands curled under her chin and silent tears streamed down her cheeks. Cass’s head was shaking side to side, ever so slightly. Duke swallowed. Selina took a step back. Staggered back. Catwoman staggered. A smile, so fake it almost looked like it hurt, blossomed across Batmans face, but it did the trick. Now Dick looked more like himself. The smile faltered, but then returned full force, still straining with its lack of conviction. “Oh Dickie.” Selina whispered. But even with all the compassion and heartache in her voice, she did not take another step towards him. Did not dare step near that suit. The door to the Batcave opened and everyone tensed, then relaxed slightly as Wonder Woman and Superman walked in, quietly. Clarks eyes roved over all of them, before landing on Dick. An expression they had never seen before crossed his face, emotions spasming, before the alien had Dick pinned against the wall by the throat, snarling in his face. “Take it off!” he growled. Dick stared at him, unflinching. “Before he was your friend,” the oldest Wayne child said lowly. “He was my father.” The alien dropped him to the floor, taking a staggered step back. Dick flinched. Everyone staggered back from him. From the suit. From him in the suit. “Are you prepared?” Selina asked him softly. Dick stood taller, not bothering with the forced smile this time. The expression nearly took her breath away. Dick and the other children could deny it all they liked, but they resembled their father whether they wanted to or not. And had it not been for the fact that Selina had seen him die, knew he was taller, knew his face better than she knew her own, she could not tell the difference, in that moment. Between the boy, the man, that stood before her now, and the man who she had fallen in love with. “Come.” she bade him softly, turning away so she did not have to look, did not have to look at that face that was him and yet not. Dick built steel into his spine, into his step. Did not stop to think about how his line was drawn in the same grim line he had so often seen his father make. Did not focus on his siblings who all shrank away from him like he had the plague, tears and pleas and threats in their eyes. Instead he followed Selina, his steps steady. She stepped aside quickly, eyes averted, as though looking at him physically hurt her, and Dick took a deep breath, stepping in front of the mirror. Then he promptly turned, and threw up.

#batman #batfam #batkids #selina kyle #no bruce wayne #this is... after bruce's death #and dick has to put on the suit #in case that wasnt clear #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #damian wayne #stephanie brown #cassandra cain #duke thomas #barbara gordon

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hollandorks · 7 months

Text

haven

battinson! bruce wayne x f! reader

chapter seven

Summary: After the sudden deaths of your mother and grandmother, you’re forced to return home to Gotham…and to the man who broke your heart three years ago. Back in Bruce Wayne’s inescapable orbit, you vow to get to the bottom of your former best friend’s new cold personality. But Bruce’s secrets aren’t what you’re expecting. a

a/n: Fuck it, here's chapter 7 since the previous post was technically just an interlude! Once again I'm basically begging for comments/ messages/ any interaction other than just likes because I'm greedy!

Series Masterlist

word count: 3.5k

All she had was an eager cop, a detective, and the detective’s vigilante best friend.

She hoped it would be enough.

Y/n knew that boredom would be her worst enemy, so she downloaded a police scanner app and listened to it almost religiously while she worked. The constant stream of voices helped keep the grief at bay and helped her focus.

To her surprise, the cops seemed to want Batman around. There were a couple of calls those first couple of days–an armed robbery and a creep taking pictures through a window–where the officers mentioned him by name. He’d stopped the armed robbery before the cops got there and also caught the peeping Tom. One cop grumbled on the radio how all their work was being taken by some guy in a costume. The rest of them jumped to Batman's defense, saying there was more than enough crime to go around. “Besides,” one chuckled. “I wouldn't want to be the one to catch some creep with his dick out.”

Y/n was almost pleased to hear the good relationship the vigilante had with GCPD. She wondered how much Gordon had to do with that. She made a few notes of their comments for her article, because it was definitely interesting to see that a city wanted a guy who operated outside the law around.

It was a few nights before an interesting call came through.

A witness reported a woman being shot. A young woman. The details were sparse but it was enough to pique her interest.

Y/n couldn’t say what it was that had her dressing warmly and grabbing her camera and phone. Stupidity, definitely. But it was one of those moments where she felt in her gut that something was happening, something related to her case.

Pepper spray clutched in one hand and camera in the other, she left the safety of Wayne Tower. Every shadow made her jump. She called a cab to take her to the crime scene–or at least as close as she could get. It was practically on the other side of the city and she definitely didn’t want to chance walking alone at night in Gotham.

They were stopped two blocks from the scene, so she got out and peered around. It looked like the actual crime scene was on the other side of an apartment building to her right, but that alley was blocked off as was the street in front of her. So she walked a little further down to the next connecting alley to get to one street over.

“What are you doing here?”

“Shit!” She screamed. She whirled and swung her arm up to use the mace, but her wrist was quickly caught in an iron grip. She tried to scramble away and almost fell when the hand suddenly released her.

Her heart only slightly calmed when she saw who it was.

The Batman.

She pressed her knuckles to her chest. Her heart was jumping out of her chest. “Jesus fucking Christ. What are you doing here?”

He watched her passively, half in the shadows. He had stepped away as soon as he let her go. “I asked first.”

She closed her eyes for a beat and inhaled a steadying breath. “Probably the same thing you’re doing here.” She shrugged. Her pulse was still racing but she knew she was safe now. He wouldn’t let anyone hurt her. And besides, there were about a million cops just around the corner. If she screamed, they would come.

“It’s too dangerous,” he growled. He took a half-step forward, like he would grab her again.

She held up the pepper spray. “Not afraid to use this on you, buddy. Besides, you’re here now to keep me safe. And the other fifty cops out there.”

He stopped. His eyes narrowed. She wanted to get closer, see what color they were, help narrow down who might be underneath the mask.

“Fine, let’s go.” He started to walk past her, towards the blue and red lights at the end of the alley.

She blinked in surprise. “That was easy.”

He looked back over his shoulder at her. “Only because you’re going to do what you want to do. At least this way I can keep an eye out for you.”

She grinned and winked. “You’re learning already.”

They walked down the alley together, her shadowy protector moving to stay one step behind her like a bodyguard.

At the end of the alley, the world was leached of color in the whirling red and blue lights, the flashes timed almost perfectly to the beat of her heart. She snapped a quick wide picture. She could see the area cordoned off with bright yellow tape.

“Well, of all the officers in all of Gotham,” she said pleasantly when she spied Martinez keeping onlookers away from the crime scene tape.

Officer Martinez’s young face brightened when he saw her, then changed comically fast when he peered over her shoulder. She could feel the Batman’s presence at her back, looming over her.

“She’s with me,” the vigilante said. Martinez sighed but held up the tape to let them under. She sensed there was a story between them and itched to find out what it was.

“If either of you touch anything…” Martinez grumbled. “It’s my neck.”

Y/n flashed him her most winning smile. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep the big guy in line.” Martinez grinned back.

“So Martinez doesn’t like you, huh?” she asked the vigilante.

He ignored her.

The air around them was humid, wet. It must have rained earlier, like most nights in Gotham. A few cop cars were leaving already. She wondered what had brought on the intense response. Her stomach tightened as they approached another alley. Gordon was talking to a young guy, late teens to early twenties, taking notes on a small notepad as the guy wiped at his face.

Y/n quickly fumbled for her phone and set it to record. She wasn’t making the same mistake twice. Except for, well, the whole leaving Wayne Tower late at night while a murderer might be after her mistake she’d already made. She snapped another sneaky picture of Gordon and the young man.

She caught Batman watching her and arched an eyebrow as if daring him to say anything.

He simply turned away and said, “Gordon.”

“Thank you,” Gordon said to who she assumed was a witness. “We’ll be in touch.”

The guy hurried off, shoulders hunched, his face almost green.

Gordon turned, saw her, and sighed. “I would ask, but…”

She winked. “You’re both learning so quickly. I’m proud.”

“What happened?” Batman asked, all business. Y/n glanced past Gordon and saw a body covered in a sheet. The medical examiner was unzipping a body bag, about to transport it.

The detective’s attention turned to the vigilante. “Single gunshot to the head at close range. Woman in her thirties walking home from work. Guy heard the gunshots and came running. Said he didn’t see the shooter but immediately called it in. Unfortunately, his dinner has…contaminated part of the scene.”

While they were talking, y/n quietly lifted her camera and started taking pictures.

The medical examiner lifted the sheet. She took another picture but paused.

She took a shaky step back and bumped into something. Gloved hands steadied her by her elbows.

“Oh,” Batman said softly. He put it together quicker than she had. Her brain was scrambling to keep up. The girl on the ground was a bloody mess, face down, legs sprawled like she’d tried to run. She was wearing a similar outfit to y/n–leggings, sweater, running shoes.

But that wasn’t where the similarities ended.

The height, the body shape, the hair color, even the shade of her skin…

The woman looked like y/n.

She didn’t realize she was shaking until Batman gently squeezed her elbows.

“Shit,” Gordon said. He must not have seen the body when he first arrived on the scene.

“Don’t look,” Batman said in her ear, pulling her away, his voice conjuring–of all people–Bruce Wayne. It was just her mind reaching for something familiar, comfortable, safe. She shook the thought away. The vigilante turned her around and held her close. “Don’t look,” he said again.

She closed her eyes against the wave of emotion. Her stomach swooped dangerously. She’d seen a dead body or two before but not–not like this.

“Guess we have confirmation, then,” Gordon said softly. She didn’t have to ask what confirmation they had. She knew already, her gut telling her what exactly had happened despite its churning.

Someone had killed that woman because it looked like her.

They knew what she looked like. They knew well enough to kill someone even with the chance it might not be her.

Which meant they were desperate and that it was only a matter of time before they found her.

“Come on, you need to get out of here,” Gordon said, and this time he had her by the arm. He pulled her along, the vigilante cutting a path through the crowd before them.

Her mind was blank. The shock of seeing a body, of imaging her own in its place, had wiped everything clean. She didn’t protest as Gordon bundled her into the passenger seat of his car. At least he didn’t put me in the back like a criminal, she thought almost deliriously.

Batman stood in the open door, staring down at her. She wasn’t sure when he’d gotten there but now he was filling her vision. Her eyes traced the planes of his armor, wondering what he looked like underneath, who he was. There were dings and scrapes in places, physical memories of past fights.

“I’m going to find who did this,” he said. His voice pitched impossibly lower. “And keep an eye out for you.”

This made her snap out of it. “You can’t be in two places at once.” He had black paint around his eyes. She hadn’t noticed before.

The barest smirk on his lips as he looked away. She couldn’t tell what color his eyes were in the darkness of the night. “You don’t know that for sure.”

She snorted. “You’re right. Maybe you’re some sort of mutant freak. Besides dressing like a bat, you know.” Despite the joking, her hands shook. She tucked them between her thighs.

“Listen,” he said, serious again. There was a note of steel in the word. His voice was so low she could feel it as a vibration on her skin. “Stop sneaking out at night. It’s too dangerous.”

She nodded vaguely but didn’t actually make the promise. If they wanted her dead, Wayne Tower wasn’t going to stop them. Slow them down, maybe, but not stop them. She needed to put the puzzle pieces together, and fast. They were getting closer to figuring out who she was, but she and Gordon and even the Batman only vaguely knew who they were dealing with. They needed to even the score.

“Then give me your phone number so you can be my bodyguard,” she said. She was half teasing.

The Batman seemed to consider it. Her eyes went past him as the gurney passed with the body on it. She shuddered and he stepped to block her view.

“If you have to leave, let Gordon know and one of us will come. But only if you have to.”

“Right,” she scoffed. “You’re allergic to texting.” And probably don’t want a reporter having your phone number, she silently added.

Batman stepped back and then Gordon was there. He put one hand on the top of the car and leaned in, expression as serious as she’d ever seen it. “I’m taking you straight home and you’re going to stay there, alright?”

She waved a hand but nodded. Satisfied, he shut the passenger door. She could hear muffled voices as he said something to Batman. Probably berating him for bringing her to the crime scene in the first place. Or telling him something he didn’t want her to hear.

Within a couple of minutes, Gordon was sliding behind the wheel.

“How’d you even know where to go?” he asked as they drove.

“Police scanner app.”

He glanced over at her. “I hate those things,” he muttered. “What happened to quid pro quo? I would have called you.”

She bit her lip and shrugged. “I can’t just sit around waiting for someone to shoot me in the head.” She shivered at the image she now had of what, exactly, that looked like.

“So you’re going to take yourself right to their doorstep instead?”

“With the way my luck is going lately, it’s only a matter of time anyway. Might as well get as much done as I can first.” She hated to be so casual about it, but she had had really shit luck lately. There was no use hiding from it. If she didn’t leave Wayne Tower, they would probably find a way to break in. Or send a sniper after her. She thought about the times she’d leaned against the windows in the study and a chill went up her spine.

“All you’ve done is traumatize yourself and give me a headache,” he said around a sigh. He really did sound like a tired dad half the time, she mused. She leaned her head back and watched the dark streets of Gotham pass by. She was reminded of another night in Gotham, years ago, on the back of a motorcycle with Bruce.

She pushed the memory away and said, “I’ll pay for a bottle of ibuprofen.”

Gordon laughed softly. “Listen, I know you reporter types are always rushing into danger, but this is your life. Can’t write the story if you’re dead. Text me if you have to go anywhere, and either I’ll come or send someone I trust.”

“Okay,” she said. “But if it takes too long I might leave anyway.” She smiled so he would know she was at least partially kidding. “Have you learned anything new?”

Gordon was silent for so long she knew it was bad news. He parked right in front of Wayne Tower–illegally, she might add.

He turned to face her, his hands idly resting on his knees. “It’s definitely the Gallo family. And another of the suspects we caught is dead. Apparent suicide, but we aren’t so sure. The third one is under around the clock protection, but…”

“Shit,” she said. Now she was the one with a headache. “That is…bad.”

“Can you see why I want you to stay home now?” he asked pleadingly. “Like it or not, I’m responsible for keeping you alive. If we can catch the last guy and get him and the other to trial…you’re an important witness. The only witness.”

“Aw, and here I was thinking you were starting to like me.”

A tightening at the corners of his mouth told her he was trying not to smile. “Let me walk you upstairs.”

“Do you see all the security in there? I’ll be fine.” She gestured towards the lobby. It definitely looked more like a swanky prison these days, even at night when no employees were in the lower floors of the building.

“I wanted to see if I could talk to Bruce Wayne.”

Y/n did a double take. Just the sound of his name made her stomach tighten almost painfully. “Why? To tattle on me? Bruce Wayne is not my keeper. He’s not my anything.” She immediately bit her tongue. She’d said too much with that last sentence, let too much of her hurt and bitterness in.

“I want to talk to him about his security, see if we can bolster it with our officers somehow.” Gordon was already up and out of the car. She scrambled to keep up, briefly getting caught in her seatbelt before yanking it off and hopping out.

Gordon flashed his badge to the security. They all relaxed not at seeing it, but at seeing y/n.

“You better talk to Alfred then, if he’s awake. He’s more in charge of that stuff than Bruce. He’s with me, it’s fine.” She said the last part to the concerned security guard–the new one whose name she still hadn’t learned, the one who had called the police for her the night she’d witnessed the murders. He was in charge of the night shift security, apparently. She wondered if he resented being the only guy at the desk at night to having a whole team around. Or maybe it was less lonely.

Gordon followed her into the private residential elevator. “Be that as it may, I’d like to speak to Mr. Wayne too.”

She sighed but hit the button to take them up to the residential part of Wayne Tower. “You really sound like a dad,” she muttered under her breath.

Gordon cut his eyes at her then smiled.

The elevators opened, and there was Alfred, already dressed and waiting. Security must have called up, warning him the detective was coming. Had he even gone to bed? She was starting to think that Alfred might be nocturnal. Or maybe he didn’t sleep at all. That was new–she and Bruce had gotten in trouble many times when they were younger for interrupting his precious sleep. These days he always seemed to be dressed impeccably, even late at night.

“Detective,” Alfred said pleasantly. He briefly narrowed his eyes at her. “How can I help you?”

Y/n idly scuffed her foot against the floor, suddenly feeling like a teenager again. She had always been caught either sneaking out or sneaking back in. Alfred had a knack for it. Or maybe she wasn’t as good as Bruce had been, who had been caught only twice that she could remember.

Gordon nodded politely. “Is Mr. Wayne feeling better? I’d like to talk to the both of you.”

“I would like to add here that it’s not sneaking out if I’m a grown woman,” y/n said helpfully.

Alfred’s eyes narrowed again before he turned his focus back to Gordon. “Mr. Wayne is out.”

Now y/n was narrowing her eyes at Alfred. He caught her looking. She raised one eyebrow. Was he street racing again? She remembered the bruises on his knuckles. Or part of an illegal fight club? Neither would surprise her.

Another thought struck and stole her breath.

Maybe Bruce had a girlfriend.

“Do you know when he’ll be back?” Gordon asked. His tone was carefully neutral.

“Well, as I was just told, the rules are different for grown men–and women. He comes and goes as he pleases and rarely includes me in his plans.” Alfred was being too professional with it. His tone was too flat. Oh yeah, Bruce was definitely up to something, and Alfred definitely knew exactly what it was. Fuck, she thought desperately. She couldn’t breathe. Alfred would know if Bruce had a girlfriend and he knew her well enough to hide it from her.

Why did the thought of Bruce with another woman hurt so much, even three years later? I don’t love you and I never will, he had said that night.

Which meant he was perfectly capable of loving someone else.

Y/n bit her lip until the pain made the panic recede.

“Of course,” Gordon said in an equally flat, professional tone. “I wanted to chat about security measures. There was another murder tonight, and while I can’t give details of an ongoing investigation…it definitely seems like y/n is a target.”

She cringed, remembering how eerily similar the body had been to hers. Who had the woman been? She hadn’t gotten a name, an age. But she felt like she should know these things if the woman had died in her place. What if she was only the first? Would they kill every woman who looked close enough to y/n before they caught her?

Alfred blinked in surprise, the professional facade slipping. “I–of course, let’s go into my office.”

Y/n wanted to go with them but decided against it. It really would be smarter to listen to Gordon. If she needed to leave, she would get an escort, even if it was Alfred. He may walk with a cane but she knew he was secretly pretty spry. He’d been a spy or soldier or something in his younger years, before coming to work for the Waynes.

“Goodnight, Alfred,” she said, taking a half-step towards the hall that led to her room. “And thanks, Gordon.”

They both nodded and bid her goodnight before disappearing towards the study.

Y/n waited a second then darted to the elevator. The other elevator. Bruce’s.

She didn’t really have a plan other than to see with her own two eyes that Bruce was gone and not just hiding.

She hit the button for what was once the garage and again, nothing happened. She frowned at it and hit it several more times. Still nothing.

What if Bruce was down there with a woman, showing her his cars? Or–She shut the thought down and mashed the button one more time, knowing it was futile.

With a curse, she stepped back out.

Fine, she would go to bed and leave Bruce alone. It didn’t matter if he was wrecking illegally souped up cars or beating someone’s face in and following the first rule of fight club. It didn’t matter if he was with a woman he might love more than he ever loved her.

It didn’t matter. He didn’t matter.

Except, as much as she hated to admit it, he did.

Next Chapter

taglist:

@ktficworld @grunge-n-roses5 @anon-cat-posts @projectdreamwalker @warsaur @lachillona02 @crazyunsexycool @doetic @alexiris @that-girl-named-alex @harry-bowie-mercury @vaniasagitaa @widows-writings @missing-loki @exactlyelegantwizard

#the batman x reader #battinson x reader #batman x reader #bruce wayne x reader #the batman 2022 #the batman #battinson #bruce wayne #haven #haven fic

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toji-girl · 2 months

Text

bully | e. yeager

original ask: modern au!mean boy! eren who bullies you while blowing your back out? sold. his muscular arms cage you against the wall, “cmon, bunny, you can’t be that much of a cry baby.” he’s constantly trying to lift your skirts up, saying mean words and just being an overall bully, just to see tears on your waterline. nevermind when he makes you cry from pleasure, “oh, are those tears, bunny? for me? am i fucking your stupid little brains out that well?”

cw: 18+ only content - mdni + wrote this with me in mind but can still be read as a fem reader + bullying kink for you + mean! Eren + oh this is how I want him so bad + shameless smut + unprotected sex + creampie + begging + dacryphilia + ass slapping + finger sucking + repost + wanna write more bully! eren :(

Thinking of this so hard, bully! Eren loves to slap your ass when you walk past him in the campus cafeteria, the way you swat at his hands when he reaches back to tug on your hem with a skirt gets him going.

He can’t help but get hard when you look at him with big wet eyes begging him to back up just a little bit, and deep down he knows you love it too, the way you curl your fingers in his shirt whimpering.

When he corners you before you can get to your dorm is his absolute favorite time. “Going to scurry off in your room again, bunny?”

Your favorite nickname he calls you and all because from the time he snatched your phone and went through your gallery seeing the many selfies you took with the bunny plushie you have on your bed.

“No, I’m just doing homework.” You responded keeping your head down at the spot on your shoe that became suddenly interesting, Eren heaved a big sigh and leaned against the wall looking at you.

He hummed and smirked plucking your notebook from your hand and holding it well above what you could reach. “If you give me a kiss then you can have it back unless you’re too good for that.”

You stared at him with an open mouth only to snap it shut, this was your moment to kiss him and hope to whoever is listening that he would leave you be. Just as you were about to do it he pulled back.

“You thought I was serious? Oh, you’re so dumb.” He teased handing you your book back with a head pat and a smirk as he left you alone.

Over the past few weeks, it’s become a constant thing, Eren always teasing you about the clothes you wore, or how he would bully his way inside your dorm to tease you about the soft colors in your room.

Tears streamed down your face on one particular night when he showed up being a bit meaner than usual, you weren’t sure why but the sickest part of you enjoyed it so much it made your panties wet.

“You are such a fucking crybaby, you know that? Just wait until I mold your cunt around my dick.” His words were harsh and so were the fingers that were curling so good in your pussy.

His thumb pressed against your clit circling it tightening the ball that sat in your stomach as he had you pressed against the wall first then he moved you to your bed watching you cling to the bunny plushie.

“So cute, you have a little mini version of yourself.” He sneered as he hit your sweet spot that made your back arch grinding your ass on him like a dog in heat, but you didn’t care not when he was fingering you so well.

The wet shlicking sounds bounced off the walls as did your muffled cries when he removed his dick from his sweats before pushing your skirt higher up on your back and over your ass which he slapped again.

Once Eren is nestled deep inside you, his balls flush against you while pressing his chest on your back pushing you further into the mattress as he slid two fingers in your mouth with a grin going deeper.

“You are so cute when you cry,” He cooed kissing away the tears that wet your cheeks as he found a pace of slow thrusts that left you wanting more and he knew it by the way you whimpered and slobbered around his fingers.

You babbled something but it was hard to decipher. “I can’t hear you bunny, but you don’t need to talk, just take this dick.” He grunted picking up the pace and keeping his hands on your hips.

Eren took delight in the way you rocked back against him wanting more of him sucking on his fingers like it was another cock, and when you came he swore he saw stars feeling you milk him.

The room smelt like sex as he pumped his cum deep inside you, another little gift he thought to himself as he slowly pulled out and patted your ass. “Such a good bunny for me.”

#tw: bullying #Eren smut #Eren x reader smut #Eren Yeager smut #Eren Jeager smut #aot smut #aot x reader smut #attack on titan Eren smut #attack on titan smut #snk x reader smut #snk smut #eren x you smut #Eren x y/n smut #Eren x you smut #eren yeager smut #eren jeager smut

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wolfjackle-creates · 1 year

Text

Ghost!Robin Part 9

First, Previous

I'm posting early this Wednesday! I've down time at work as I wait for the centrifuge to stop spinning my antibodies (48 minutes left of 2 hours). And I have plans after work. So it's either now or at 11 pm my time.

Story Summary: Danny was invited to dinner at Wayne Manor to meet Jazz's boyfriend and his family for the first time. He worked hard to make sure no ghost business would interrupt the evening. But when he arrived, all he could focus on was the ghost of the dead Robin that seemed to haunt Jason.

Word Count: 1.2k

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Jason’s voice was low and threatening. “It’s an ice duck made of Lazarus water.”

More alarming than his voice was the way his eyes glowed ecto-green and the fear-anger that filled the room.

Thank the ancients for Jazz, because he had no idea how to respond to that. She was the one who placed a hand on Jason’s arm and asked, “What’s Lazarus water?”

Meanwhile, Danny focused on sending out calm, no danger, safe feelings to counteract Jason’s projections.

It seemed to work slightly as Jason lowered his gun, but he didn’t put it away. “Just green, bubbling liquid that collects in pits and will kill the healthy but return the mortally wounded to life with a side dose of uncontrollable rage.” His eyes were glued to the duck in Danny’s hands.

That sounded like the opposite of good, Pariah curse it. “Jazz, why do your in-laws keep giving me more work to do?” Danny groaned as he mentally moved a few things around his to-do list.

He handed the duck to Robin who gave a thanks trill as he took it.

Danny continued, “And, Jason, can you tell me where these pits are so I can get rid of them? Sounds like there’s some leaks between the Infinite Realms and the moral realms that were never dealt with because Pariah was the worst.”

“Who is this ‘Pariah’ person?” asked Damian. “You have mentioned them before.”

Danny was going to reply when Alfred cleared his throat and the table went silent to look at him. “I understand there’s a lot of information everyone wants to know from our guests, however I believe it has been recognized that they wish us no harm. So perhaps we might allow them to at least taste the pie Master Jason and I worked hard on? We also have ice cream, Mr. Danny.”

Jazz took the excuse to tug on Jason’s arm. He hesitated a moment, still looking uncertainly at his ghost playing with the duck, but obediently sat down without saying anything more.

“I haven’t had ice cream in ages,” admitted Danny. “Haven’t even been on Earth for months my-time. Only been a few weeks Earth-time, though.” Taking his fork in hand, he tried a bite of the pie. It had at least four different types of fruit from what he could see—cherries, raspberries, strawberries, and peaches. It was amazing. Over the time they’d been talking, it had cooled slightly, but was still warm. “Holy shit, you two made this? It’s so good!” Without waiting for a response he took another bite. “Ancients, I miss Earth food when I’m gone so long. Jazz, can we get burgers tomorrow?”

“Of course, Danny. Has it really been that long for you? When was the last time you saw Sam and Tucker?”

Danny shrugged as he swallowed. “I’ve been out of contact with anyone for a month my-time. Grandpa had me on another planet doing time-stream stuff. But Sam and Tuck were with me in the Realms before that. We had about a week together and they saw me off.”

“I have so many questions based off that statement,” said Dick.

“I’m compiling a list, Dick,” said Tim from the other side of the table.

Alfred cleared his throat again and about half the table muttered a “sorry.”

“Now, Mr. Danny, for ice cream, I’ve made French vanilla and chocolate. Would you like to try one or both?”

“You made the ice cream? I don’t think I’ve ever had homemade ice cream before. Can I take some of both?”

“Of course. Master Jason, could you pass the ice cream to Mr. Danny?”

The wave of annoyance that radiated out of Jason told Danny exactly what he thought of that suggestion. Robin clucked his tongue in reproach. But out loud, Jason just said, “Of course.” He grabbed a covered bucket which must hold the ice cream and passed it to Jazz who gave it to Danny.

“Thanks, dead boyfriend number two!” With a grin, Danny sent back friends, gratitude, happiness to Jason. Just to be contrary.

Jason’s projections morphed into confusion, frustration.

Danny and Robin looked at each other and burst out laughing.

“Mind explaining what’s so funny to the class?” asked Jazz with a hint of annoyance in her voice.

Rather than answer her directly, Danny spoke to Jason. “Hey, Jay, can I call you Jay? Well, we’re gonna be brothers-in-law so I’m gonna. You really need to work on controlling what emotions you’re projecting. Otherwise I might get hurt by how much you don’t trust me.” He pouted and played up the offense, but only held it for a second before opening the ice cream and giving himself a large scoop of each flavor. “Oh, Robin, you can eat the duck, by the way. Like a popsicle. Have dessert with us.”

“What do you mean projecting? And brothers-in-law?” demanded Jason.

Danny ignored him in favor of Robin who grinned widely and licked the head of the duck. Outwardly, he projected tasty, gratitude. To really push the point home, he popped the head of the duck in his mouth and used his now-free hands to sign something.

Dick translated, “He says it’s good.”

“Of course it is. He’s a baby ghost, needs his ecto!” Danny took a bite of ice cream.

Jazz cleared her throat and said in a conversational tone, “Danny, remember the conversation we had about spoilers?”

“Hmmm?” asked Danny around a spoonful of pie. It was so good.

“Spoilers, Danny. You’ve let some slip.”

“I have?” Danny thought back over the things he’d said recently and froze. “You and Jason aren’t engaged yet.”

Jazz closed her eyes and looked up. “No, Danny. We’re not.”

Danny flushed and rubbed the back of his head. “Sorry! Honest mistake. At least I haven’t told you how—”

Jazz slammed a hand over his mouth. “Don’t you dare, Daniel James! No spoilers!”

Danny grinned into her hand and licked her palm.

“Danny! Gross!” she cried as she pulled her hand away. “I know you have hand sanitizer in that bottomless pit of yours. Pass it over.”

As he was reaching into his bag, he noticed Robin had left his spot in front of Danny and moved until he was floating in front of Bruce where he seemed to be signing something. Cass stood up and took her plate, moving to sit next to Steph and Robin took her seat. The ghost smiled up at Bruce who looked back at him with a frown.

Danny sent out a pulse of concern, you okay?

Robin nodded. Happy, comfortable.

Ghosts couldn’t lie when they communicated with core-feelings, so Danny nodded and went back to searching for the hand sanitizer which he handed to Jazz.

Jason was back to staring at him, though. “Hey, Alfie? Can I ask Danny a question?”

Alfred let out a put-upon sigh. “You, and you alone”—he gave a look to everyone at the table—“may ask Mr. Danny a single question. All other questions must wait until Mr. Danny has finished his dessert and informs you he is willing to answer more of them.”

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I just want to tell all of you how much I loved every comment demanding Danny get to eat his pie. You all really made my week.

Over the weekend, I shared a bit more of the fic where Danny and Tim were online childhood friends. Check it out if that's something you're interested in!

And I guess I didn't include line I shared as part of the tag game in this update. I'm trying to give myself more of a buffer in case I can't get as much writing done in the upcoming weeks, so the segments I share might by somewhat shorter.

Tag List Part 1

@addie-lover-of-stories, @justwannabecat, @gin2212, @amercurio, @regonold, @overtherose, @readerzj, @sjrose1216, @echoednonny, @deeterzz, @blu-lilac, @number-one-jew, @rowanaway-fromthisbs, @vythika96, @tired-yet-awaken, @themirrorghost, @emeraldcorpral, @all-mights-asscheeks, @darkhinauniverse, @blep-23, @phandomhyperfixationblog, @larkcoe1, @thegatorsgoose, @job-ross-the-second, @britcision, @lenacraft, @bubblemixer, @androgynouslordofescapism, @purefrickingspite, @leftmiraclechaos, @lizisipancardo, @starlight-sparks, @miraculousandmore, @gildedphoenix, @sometimesthingsfallapart, @letmesayfuxk, @phoenixcatch7, @skulld3mort-1fan, @abaowo, @dhampir-princess, @idkmrpianoman, @sarina-elais, @ballzfrog-blog, @undead-essence, @spookytragedyshark, @flyingpansaurus, @akintoabitch, @marivictal, @8-29pm, @justreadingthefanfics, @happybear135, @kisatamao, @spoopyspoony, @adorablechaos, @sara0055, @screamingtofillthevoid

#dpxdc #danny fenton #jason todd #jazz fenton #anger managment #ghost!robin #my writing #he got his pie!#and alfred is glaring at every single person who looks like they are going to ask a question #its very effective #bruce doesnt know how to face the ghost of his worst mistake #but ghost!robin gets it #better than living jason #after all when bruce brought in kid!jason #it was just the two of them

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blondeboyfriend · 1 year

Text

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐑𝐔𝐈𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐋 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐃 𝐅𝐎𝐑 (𝟏𝟖+)

𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐍𝐈

[ PAIRING ] Vash the Stampede x reader [ AUTHOR'S NOTE ] The first of many reposts from my old blog. [ SYNOPSIS ] You're the child of a dead preacher. He's an angel on the run. [ WORD COUNT ] 6.5k [ CONTENT ] Modern AU, fallen seraph!Vash, I'm just making up shit about angels honestly, graphic injuries, sacrilege, oral sex (m receiving), vaginal sex, virginity loss, Vash has a big dick and he does not know how to use it, creampie, sad ending (I'm sorry).

“I don’t remember it looking this…”

Your now former groundskeeper guffawed on the other end of the line. “Shitty?”

You shook your head even though your father’s abandoned church was in rough shape. It was clear not a soul had been looking after it.

“It looks…”

“I ain’t got all day.”

You thought long and hard. “Depressing,” you finally muttered. “I thought you were going to take care of it.”

“You think I’m gonna work for free?”

“If money was an issue you should have said something,” you sneered.

She coughed. “I ain’t that chapel’s keeper,” she replied firmly.

The chapel was tucked away deep in the mountains away from town. You looked at the ivy covered door barely on its hinges. Lichen had overtaken the walls. The roof was covered with decaying leaves and bright green moss and had a sizable hole. It was a miracle it hadn’t caved in. Most derelict buildings didn’t survive the rainy season let alone several.

“Probably full of mold and critters anyway. I don’t know why you wanna be there in the first place.”

“I…”

Even you didn’t know why you came. Your father had been dead for a while. It’s not as if you were seeking closure. Your scars had healed long ago, the pain only a dull twinge if you saw photos of him giving you a piggyback ride or sleeping on a sun soaked beach.

“Boredom,” you laughed. “No other reason.”

“Lia—”

You hung up before she could utter the entirety of the word. You knew it was mostly out of guilt for letting things get this bad.

You walked the perimeter and tried to avoid the tall grass that surrounded the church. It was amazing how fast the mountain was able to reclaim it all. Sooner or later the concrete pathways would get eaten up by the earth, but for now it was only nipping at its heels. As you made your way to the back, your feet leaving deep imprints in the soft, waterlogged soil, you were confronted by a massive hole in the ground. You were centimeters away from falling into it.

“Holy shit.”

You squatted down to get a better look at the crater. There were iridescent white feathers scattered about, some stained with blood. You couldn’t tell if it was fresh or not. There was no bird in the area that could make a hole of that size in the ground, but you couldn’t think of any other explanation. You stood up and noticed evidence of something clawing its way out of the hole. A trail of bloodied feathers made their way to the back door of the church, or rather where the back door should have been. It was missing altogether, ripped from the hinges.

All the signs pointed to getting the fuck out of there, but you couldn’t quell the curiosity swirling inside you. Sweaty palms and the pit in your stomach weren’t good enough deterrents. You took slow steps towards the gaping doorway. Each step felt like a potential death sentence but you were steadfast.

You peeked your head inside and saw nothing out of the ordinary. Just pews and the other side of the church. Light streamed through the hole in the ceiling and a few of the lancet windows, giving everything an ethereal look. It felt liminal, a place between worlds. Stepping inside you were greeted by native grasses popping up between the wood paneled flooring and a few more bloodied feathers.

“This can’t be safe,” you muttered, making damn sure to take careful steps.

You really had no business being in there. There was nothing special or sentimental stowed away. Your father’s belongings and any items of religious importance were swiftly removed upon his death. All that remained was dust and several moldy study bibles.

You stepped deeper inside and stood beside the pulpit. Images of your father preaching fluttered about your mind. His voice was clear as day, only making the lack of him more apparent. You felt like someone was pushing needles into your heart. You stumbled away to the pews, hoping distance would rip you away from your memories.

You crept down the aisle, following the trail of feathers. It was much like your father had many times before on his way from the pulpit. The pews were in terrible shape, the cushions had all rotted away. You hoped to sit in one for old time’s sake, but it was a risk you were unwilling to take. Stained, festering nylon curtains covered most of the lancet windows, though a goodly portion of them had been haphazardly torn down. You assumed it was an animal for your own comfort.

Continuing down the aisle you noticed a large heap in the corner where the feathers ended. It was wrapped up in the missing curtains and shivering. You tried to think if there were any sightings of enormous birds in a desperate attempt to make sense of it all. Of course nothing came to mind; it was only wishful thinking.

Your eyes darted around, looking for something long to poke the heap with. The only option was a study bible. You quietly reached for one near the pews, the cover moist between your fingers. You started to dry heave as the smell of the old, wet book enveloped you.

“Ew, ew, ew,” you said, tossing the bible at the shivering mound.

Your aim was terrible and the bible slammed into the wall before hitting the ground beside the heap with a loud thud. Your mouth filled with saliva, anxious nausea overwhelming you. The heap shot upright, the curtains still clinging to its form. You didn’t know what to do so you ran out the back door. In your hurry to escape you tripped into the crater. You could feel death surrounding you, the air around you signaling your inevitable demise. You tried to climb out of the hole, but it was simply too deep. Fertile soil wedged itself under your fingernails in your futile attempt to escape.

You sunk down and sat in the dirt, holding your head in your hands. You felt like an idiot. Why did you come here? What purpose did this serve?

In the midst of your mental breakdown, you heard footsteps and again made a pathetic attempt to pull yourself out of the hole. You nearly vomited when you saw a tall figure obscured by curtains hovering above you. It squatted down and held out a shaky, wounded hand. You were too frightened to move.

“Take it,” a small voice rasped.

You continued to stare at it, wide-eyed and terrified. It wiggled its fingers.

“I don’t have all day.”

You slowly reached up and grabbed its hand. Its palm was rough, fingernails full of the same dirt that was underneath yours. The heap hoisted you out of the hole with an ease you didn’t expect. It seemed so fragile when you first saw it shivering in the church.

It quickly scuttled back inside before you could properly thank it. You stood there, eyes fixed on the open back door. You knew the right thing to do was run down the road and get in your car, but again your curiosity got the best of you. You made your way back into the church and tip-toed over to the figure. It was resting in the same corner, only this time its feet were sticking out from under the curtain. Streaks of blood marred its skin.

“Hello?”

Its shivering stopped.

“Hey. Uh, I…”

Your sentence trailed off and again, the heap was silent. Against better judgment you reached out to it. Just as it was within reach it swiftly grabbed your wrist. You stared in horror at the scarred arm. Your life began to flash before your eyes, or it did until you got a glimpse of the heap.

As you tried to pull away the curtain parted enough so you could see half of a face and the prettiest eye you’d ever seen. It was a striking blue-green color with long, dark eyelashes. Strands of blonde and black hair peeked out as well. The heap released your arm and tried in vain to cover his face.

“I… I just wanted to say thank you!” you blurted out.

“You’re welcome. Now go away.”

“... Can I ask why you’re here?”

“No,” it said.

“I’ll have you know this is my property,” you said, trying to sound threatening. You felt like a bad actor. “Either you tell me or I’ll call the cops.”

It paused. “I’m resting.”

“Okay… Are you hurt?”

Maybe it was a hiker that got injured and sought refuge in the first building it saw. That seemed the most likely though it didn’t explain all the feathers.

“I’m fine.”

“You sure?”

“No. I mean, yes! Please. Leave me alone,” it said as the curtain slid down, revealing its face.

It was a man, a handsome one at that. His face was scratched up and covered in swatches of dirt. His skin was tanned, like he was someone that spent his days toiling under the kiss of the sun. His hair was a disaster, blonde and black strands sticking up like he’d just woken up from a neverending nap. Your starry-eyed expression seemed to make him realize the curtains were no longer obscuring every part of him.

“Dammit,” he whimpered.

Your heart was caught in your throat. You needed to focus on something else, something other than him and his arresting beauty.

“Y—you know those curtains are pretty gross. I wouldn’t wrap myself up in them… Just saying.”

He looked away from you and stared at the ground.

“I don’t have any other options.”

“Okay I get that, but those curtains are still beyond disgusting.”

The man narrowed his eyes before letting the curtains drop. You only got a brief glimpse of his beaten body before a mass of wings appeared and shielded himself from you. They were made of the same iridescent feathers that littered the church.

“Ow.”

Blood still clung to many of them. You tried your best to stay calm.

“So you are hurt.”

“It’s not like you can do anything about it. Now leave me alone. I’ll be gone soon.” His stern voice gave way to a whinier one. “I hope.”

“Are you, like, waiting on someone?”

“Oh yes,” he sneered. “I’m waiting for my brethren to pick me up. They should be here any day now. I just have to wait for the sound of their herald.”

“No need to be hostile. You are in my chapel.”

“And? I’m one of your God’s messengers.”

You gulped. You never thought you’d be in the presence of a literal angel. After your father died you “turned your back on God” and dissolved the congregation much to the chagrin of the parishioners. You didn’t see any reason to continue on. Scripture was nonsense and served to remind you of the things you lacked, namely your father.

The angel peeked out from behind his wings.

“Ha. Can’t beat that, can you?” he asked with a weak smile.

“I guess not… How long will you be here?”

“Don’t know,” he said before wincing.

He looked tired. You weren’t sure if angels needed to sleep or not, but resting certainly wouldn’t hurt. Carting him to your apartment crossed your mind, but there was no way you could explain his presence to your neighbors. If you lived in a city, you could probably get away with it. But small towns weren’t made for secrets and strange men.

“Stop staring,” he said before a small wing appeared, hiding his face. “Ouch.”

“Does that hurt?”

“Does what hurt?”

“Uh, like, having your wings out.”

“It’s excruciating.”

“You can put them away then. It’s not like I haven’t seen a naked body before.”

The angel let out a heavy sigh as the feathers fell and the bones seemed to melt away. His arms were torn up and covered in cuts, his left arm was practically ripped to shreds. One of his clavicles was broken so badly the bone had torn through his skin. His legs were much like his arms and riddled with cuts. Pillowy yellow fat spilled from one of the deeper ones. A wisps of iridescent feathers still clung to various parts of his broken body.

He held his legs close to his chest, trying to hide as much of himself as possible, and looked up at you like a neglected puppy.

“Who did this to you?” you asked.

He laughed, the fakest one you had ever heard. “The ground.”

Prying crossed your mind, but you doubted he’d be truthful. A strong gust blew through the church, the cold drilling itself into your skin. You dug your hands into the pockets of your coat as your body began to fold in on itself. You were never one to successfully withstand the cold.

It seemed the angel wasn’t either, if his whimpering was anything to go by. You straightened your back and cleared your throat.

“Here,” you said, pulling off your coat. You squatted down next to him and draped it over his shoulders. It didn’t offer much coverage, but the thought was there. “I can’t stand seeing someone look so miserable.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, smiling weakly.

“You’re supposed to say thank you.”

The apples of his cheeks flushed pink and he bashfully thanked you. It was astounding how cute he was. You found yourself lost in his eyes; they looked like perfectly polished turquoise. Every aspect of him drew you in. You weren’t sure if it was because of his angelic nature. You couldn’t remember if they were capable of being so bewitching.

He cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable with your staring. Your skin grew hot the second you realized this.

“Fuck. I guess I’m the one that’s sorry now, huh?”

He smiled weakly once more.

“It’s fine,” he said before looking out one of the windows. “The sun’s going to set soon. You should get going.”

You nervously scratched the base of your skull. “I feel kind of weird leaving you here in… this state,” you said, eyes fixed on his busted collarbone. “Let me, uh, you know… help you.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to.”

“I’m more trouble than I’m worth.”

“Most things in my life can be described like that and it has yet to stop me.”

You reached out and wiped away some of the dirt on his cheek with the pad of your thumb. You usually weren’t so gutsy but you felt overwhelmingly compelled. You need to help this man, this angel.

“Do you have a name?”

“Vash.”

“Cute. Shit. Cool. I mean, nice to meet you,” you said before telling him your name.

He repeated your name under his breath and your stomach was aflutter. You wanted to hear him say it over and over again. You inhaled deeply and tried to compose yourself. You stood up and gazed down at the nude heap of a man that sat in front of you.

“Come home with me. You’ll be more comfortable.”

“I’d rather stay here.”

You furrowed your brow. You weren’t confident in your ability to persuade him. You didn’t want to press too hard and scare him off.

“Fine. But I’m coming back tomorrow with some clothes. Maybe a blanket. Food too. Wait… Do you even eat?”

“I eat. I don’t have to, but I like to.”

“What should I bring you?”

His eyes widened and seemed to sparkle.

“Doughnuts.”

“Noted.”

“And pizza.”

You giggled. “Anything else?”

“Nope,” he said with a grin, flashing his pointy canine teeth.

After a restless night’s sleep, you set out to gather supplies. You went to a thrift store and grabbed a bunch of shirts that seemed like they’d fit Vash’s lithe yet toned body. You bought a few pairs of pants that looked long, and briefly stared down an old and opened pack of men’s underwear. You wouldn’t dare bring him such a cursed item. He was an angel after all. You didn’t want to inadvertently get on his shit list. He would just have to go commando.

Your next stop was the grocery store where you bought a sizable first aid kit and dozen doughnuts of varying flavors. You couldn’t parse out his taste so you decided to go a little overboard. If anyone deserved to be spoiled, it was him. You wanted him to be comfortable, to be at ease.

The drive up the mountain was peaceful. But the sky was gradually becoming speckled with blotchy, grey clouds.

“I’m back,” you said in a sing-song voice as you entered the chapel.

You walked down the aisle in between the pews and found Vash where you had left him last night. He was asleep under the musty curtain and was using your jacket as a makeshift pillow. You put down your bags and squatted beside him.

“Hey,” you said, running your hand over his dirty hair.

His eyes fluttered open, his expression was of momentary terror before he realized it was only you.

“Hi,” he yawned.

“No pizza, but! I have doughnuts and some clothes. I don’t know your size so I just grabbed a bunch of shit.”

“Thank you,” he said, sitting up slowly. You were happy to see that his collarbone was no longer piercing his skin. All that remained was a dark scar.

He reached for the bag and pulled the clothes out, expressing zero interest in them. His eyes lit up when he saw the pink box and eagerly took it out of the bag. He almost looked a little teary eyed.

“I also didn’t know what flavor you liked so I—”

He shoved a glazed cruller into his mouth. “I like all kinds,” he replied, voice muffled by his full mouth.

He swallowed and beamed. He had one of those smiles that could melt the heart of even the coldest person.

“Thank you,” he said, pulling out a chocolate doughnut from the box.

“No problem. I—”

Before you could finish your sentence a droplet of water landed on the tip of your nose.

“Fuck,” you muttered.

Looking up at the hole in the ceiling you saw that the sky was now an unforgiving and darkened grey. You tossed your head back and groaned. Your mind was assaulted with a cascade of thoughts.

I hate driving in the rain. The road back has so many hairpin turns. He can’t stay here. Not like he can stay with me though. I guess I could leave him. But I’m sick of running from everything. What if the entire ceiling caves in? What’ll happen to him? What would dad do?

You knew he wouldn’t leave an angel behind to rot in his chapel that was for sure.

“Something wrong?” Vash asked before biting into a maple bar.

“Come home with me.”

“What? No way.”

“You can’t stay here. Not in the rain. You’ll be miserable.”

“I’ll be fine. I’ve already caused you enough trouble.”

“You don’t get to decide that,” you snapped. “Now get dressed. You’re coming with me.”

You kept your sentences short and firm. You didn’t want to give him any room to weasel his way out of your demands. There was no way in hell you were going to let this battered angel suffer. His protesting meant nothing to you.

Vash winced as the rain worked its way into his wounds.

“Well when you put it like that,” he said as he eased his way up from the cold and unforgiving floor.

You averted your eyes, making a conscious effort not to stare. The urge was there, an ever present annoyance, but you looked everywhere else. The hole in the ceiling. The decaying floors. The rain tapping at the windows. When you finally looked at him he was dressed. The white button-down wasn’t a perfect fit; the oversized nature of it made him look even more fragile. And the pants were too short, the hems just barely covering his shins.

“Do I look stupid?”

“You look like… I had no idea what I was doing while I was shopping,” you laughed. “C’mon. Let’s go before it starts pouring.”

You held out your hand and immediately felt like an idiot. He was an angel. Would someone like him ever need assistance from someone like you?

Surprisingly, he took your hand. His palms were big and rough, fingers long and graceful. Your heart pounded in your chest as you led him out of the chapel. You couldn’t stop thinking about his hands caressing your shoulders and how lovely a sensation it must be. You sighed in relief once you saw your car, immediately unlocking it. He went to get in the backseat and you stifled a laugh.

“You don’t wanna sit up front?”

“Do you want me to?”

You hated him for asking. Of course you wanted him to, but you didn’t want to have to actually disclose that.

“I’ll feel like a chauffeur if you sit in the back,” you replied, purposefully avoiding his question.

He smiled, eyes narrowed, a teasing expression. He wasn’t stupid and you were a bad actor. Wordlessly he got in the passenger seat much to your relief.

The drive itself wasn’t all that bad, but still you were consumed with anxiety. Vash kept his face glued to the window, looking outside at the redwoods that embraced the mountain. His inattention gave you plenty of time to craft an excuse as to why he was with you in the first place.

“If anyone asks, and I’m really hoping no one will, say we went to college together,” you said, hands clenching the steering wheel.

“Hm?” he said, redirecting his attention. He gazed at you, eyes trained on your lips. “What were you saying?”

“I—uh. If anyone… Be normal.”

“Normal?”

“Ye—yeah. Normal.”

“Should I say I’m your boyfriend?”

“What?! No!”

“Is that not normal?”

“It’s… ugh. Technically! I guess!”

“So I can say that then?”

“No. Say something else.”

“Something else.”

You spent the last twenty minutes of the drive feeling vaguely nauseous and mildly sweaty.

The two of you managed to make it to your apartment door without running into anyone. You hurriedly tried to unlock it, only to drop the key because of your impatience.

“Hello,” you heard Vash say cheerily.

You turned around in horror and saw your landlord. He merely nodded and waddled out of sight.

“Nice to meet you! I’m their boyfriend!” Vash shouted after him.

“What is wrong with you?” you growled, shoving the key into the lock.

You swung the door open and pulled the obnoxious angel inside.

He stood bashfully in your living room. “What? It was funny.”

“Hardly,” you hissed.

Your annoyance with him was gone as fast as it came. He somehow looked more exhausted and battered surrounded by the comfort of your home. How could you hold even a pinch of resentment for someone in his state and of his stature? The right thing to do was ease his misery, not stoke its flames.

“You should shower. You’d probably feel better.”

“I don’t think I can stand that long.”

“Bath?”

“With my luck I’d fall asleep and drown.”

“What if I help?”

He appeared to be deep in thought. “That’ll work.”

You led him into the bathroom and ran a hot bath. Steam filled the bathroom. The warmth was welcome on such a harsh and rainy night. Vash got undressed and lowered himself into the water. He let out a pleased groan, one that made your brain stop functioning.

You buried your lewd thoughts into the depths of your mind and sat on the edge of the tub, guiding Vash so he was positioned in between your legs. Suddenly you were plagued with shyness.

“Ah, um, co—could you dunk your head?” you asked timidly.

He obliged, sliding further into the tub and submerging himself in the bathwater. He shut his eyes and lingered underneath its weight. His face was solemn.

“Oh—okay. You can come up now,” you said.

He opened one of his eyes and smiled. He sat up. His wet hair slicked back leaving face on full display. You swallowed hard and squirted some shampoo into your hand.

“Let me know if it gets in your eyes.”

“Don’t you worry. I’ll scream like a little girl.”

You laughed, probably harder than you should have. But you felt obligated to. He was trying so hard to keep up this thin facade.

You worked the shampoo into his hair, letting the silky strands slide between your fingers.

“Smells nice,” he murmured.

“Thanks…”

An awkward silence enveloped the room. Neither of you knew what to say, what subject to broach. You focused on massaging his scalp, washing away every bit of blood and dirt. Every so often he broke out into a delighted hum.

“That feel good?” you asked, scratching the back of his head.

“Yesssss,” he moaned.

You choked on your own spit.

“Are you okay?” he asked worriedly.

“Yeah! I mean, yeah. Yeah. Yes. Uh, I need to—to rinse. Dunk your head again.”

He slid further into the tub, but he kept his face above the water. The soap spread through the water, encircling his head like a halo. He stared up at you, eyes still doe-like but now with a piercing quality. Silence filled the room once more.

“Is there something on my face?”

“What?” he said, eyes softening. “Oh! No, I was just staring.”

You didn’t know how to respond to his bluntness.

“You’re very beautiful.”

You felt dizzy, like the world was spinning around you.

“Th—thank you. Uh.” You lifted his head out of the water, unable to use your words. He followed your lead and sat back up. “You can wash your body, right? I can get your back. But… you should… probably do the rest.”

“I think I can manage.”

You got up and grabbed a fluffy washcloth off your bathroom counter.

“If it hurts—”

“I’ll let you know,” he chuckled.

You smiled nervously and wetted the wash cloth, squeezing out a generous amount of body wash into it. You looked at his back and the wounds that covered it. As you began to bathe him his shoulders tensed up. It didn't take long for the washcloth to tinge pink. His discomfort made you feel like there was a hole in your chest.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” he whimpered.

“How do you plan on getting back?”

“Back to where?”

“To heaven.”

“I don’t,” he said solemnly.

Again you were unsure how to respond. You wrung out the washcloth and handed it to him. You watched as he washed his arms and nearly fell to the floor when he lifted one of his long legs out of the water.

“You can stay here as long as you want. You know that, right?”

“I don’t want to intrude.”

“You wouldn’t—”

“Please. Don’t.”

“But you have nowhere else to go!”

“I’d be putting you in harm’s way,” he said, the sweetness gone from his voice. “It’s for your own good.”

How could he know what was good for you? You considered pressing him for more details, but his comfort trumped your curiosity.

“I just want to help you,” you muttered. “That’s all.”

He said nothing.

“I’ll… grab you a towel.”

You got out of the tub and left the bathroom, looking for any excuse to step away. You were caught between your need for answers and your need to keep him calm, to let him feel safe. Tears welled up in your eyes, not from sadness but frustration. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. You weren’t sure what it was supposed to be, but you knew this wasn’t what you wanted for him.

As you searched for a towel your brain was overwhelmed with questions.

Who is he to decide what is and isn't for my own good? What harm is going to seek me out if he stays? How can I get him to stay? What will it take? What am I willing to give?

Your concentration was obliterated by the sound of him getting out of the tub. You grabbed a towel from your linen closet and returned to the bathroom.

“Here,” you said, handing him the towel.

As soon as he took it from his hand you turned and moped to your bedroom. You got undressed and threw on an oversized t-shirt. You planned on letting him sleep in your bed. You would take the couch even though it was uncomfortable to sleep on.

“Do you have something I can sleep in?”

You froze. You absolutely did not. You stumbled over to your dresser and searched for something, anything. He approached, standing beside you as you frantically looked.

“Those might fit,” he said, pointing at a pair of black running shorts.

He tried them on and they did indeed fit though the tip of his cock poked out. You pretended like you didn’t notice.

“I was thinking you could sleep in my bed.”

“That sounds good to me. Fair warning though, I’ll probably end up cuddling you.”

“I… I’m not… I’m gonna be on the couch.”

“Oh,” he said dejectedly.

“Did you want me to sleep with you?”

He blushed.

“I mean like… sleep-sleep,” you clarified.

He laughed. “Yeah! Of course. I knew… I knew what you meant.”

Your awkwardness was rubbing off on him. The two of you crawled into bed, leaving a sizable amount of space between your bodies. You were on your back, staring up at the ceiling, and failed at trying to will yourself unconscious.

You glanced over at Vash who seemed to be doing the same, except he was shivering.

“Are you cold?”

“A little,” he said.

You rolled over and closed the gap. You draped an arm over him and rested your head on his shoulder. You held him close to your body, hoping he could leech away some of your warmth.

“I should have covered you in band-aids.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll be fine.”

“I’m more worried about my sheets.”

“I see how it is. I don’t matter anymore?”

“Yeah. That’s why I’m holding you. I don’t care about you at all.”

He snorted and wrapped his arm around you. The weight of it against your back made your heart pound. Making a move on him crossed your mind, but you were crippled by your inaction.

“Not comfortable,” he grumbled before turning to face you.

He pulled you into his embrace, arms snaking around your body. Your face was buried in the crook of his neck, lips practically touching it. You were coming out of your skin; being so close to him left you spiraling. The likelihood of you ending up in a position like this again was slim. It was clear he had no intention of staying. If he turned you down it wasn’t like you’d have to face your failure for long.

You pressed your lips closer to his neck and kissed it. He slid one of his hands under your shirt and rubbed the small of your back. His rough palm against your flesh felt superb. You kissed his neck once more before you started to suck on it, grazing his skin with your teeth. His breathing grew heavy.

“I have no idea what I’m doing,” he blurted out.

“What do you mean?” you asked, lips still pressed to his neck.

“I’ve never done anything like this.”

“It’s fine. I don’t care,” you said, grinding up against him.

“Really?”

“Yes,” you cooed.

You cupped his face in your hands and kissed him, catching his bottom lip between yours. Your noses awkwardly bumped up against each other. You forced him to tilt his head. You slipped your tongue into his mouth, teasing his. He eagerly reciprocated, rolling his tongue against yours. The kiss grew sloppier, more desperate. Drool trickled down your jaw.

You rubbed his exposed cocktip, swirling around the precum that leaked from it. He moaned in your mouth before breaking the kiss. He wasn’t able to quiet himself and you could listen to him whimper all night.

“You like that?”

“Yes,” he choked out, his eyes half-lidded.

You smirked and sucked your fingers clean.

“Lay on your back,” you purred.

He didn’t even hesitate as he swiftly moved into position. You pulled down the shorts you lent him and stared down his semi hard cock. You flicked your tongue against the tip.

He let out a pathetic moan. You looked up at him, your eyes meeting his. His brows were knitted in agony and he was trying to shut himself up with the back of his hand.

“You don’t need to be embarrassed,” you said while stroking the length of his cock.

You gently squeezed his balls and relished in another one of his pained moans. You guided his cock into your mouth and rolled your tongue against the underside of it. You bobbed your head, taking his cock deeper into your mouth. He groaned and bucked his hips. The sweet taste of precum coated your tongue. His cock was so leaky, so needy. He covered the entirety of his face with his hands.

“It feels so good,” he panted, his voice muffled.

“Oh yeah?”

He nodded.

“You wanna fuck me?” you asked, arching your back.

He slightly sat up and looked down at you.

“Yes,” he whimpered.

You got up and straddled him. You wrapped your hand around his cock and rubbed it up against your throbbing clit. He grabbed a hold of your hips, his grip tight. Your legs felt like jelly as pleasure washed over you in waves. You lifted yourself up and slid his cock inside you.

“Oh my God,” he groaned as your cunt tightened around him.

The tip of his cock prodded your cervix, sending a shooting pain to your core.

“Ouch!!”

He sat up and cradled your face in his hands.

“What?! Are you okay?! What did I do?!”

“Too much too soon,” you said through gritted teeth. “But it’s fine. We—we’ll just take it slow.”

“Okay. Okay,” he repeated.

He lifted you off of his cock and gently rocked his hips, easing it back inside you.

“Perfect,” you moaned.

You matched his movements, careful not to jam the entirety of his cock into your cunt. You placed your hands on his chest, pinching his nipples between your fingers.

“Hey!”

“Sorry,” you laughed before biting his neck.

“Ke—keep doing it,” he stammered, caught up in a haze of ecstasy.

You again pinched his nipples, harder than you had before. You sucked on his neck, determined to leave behind a bruise, something to remember you by. His pace was becoming a little more urgent, his thrusts growing more intense.

“Gentle,” you groaned.

Your cunt was dripping with arousal.

“What would God think about this?” you asked. You bit down on your bottom lip and awaited his answer.

“I don’t want to think about it.”

“C’mon,” you begged, rocking your hips.

“He—He.” Vash took a deep breath. “He’d be really—shit—disappointed.”

“Would he send me to hell?”

“I don’t know,” he whined. “I can’t think about that right now.”

You tightened your cunt around his cock.

“But I wanna know. Tell me how bad I am.”

He buried his face in your neck. He clearly didn’t want to play along and you didn’t want to push it any further. His thrusts were picking up in speed as he bottomed out. His cock kissed your cervix, but it thankfully didn’t hurt this time around.

“Your cock feels so good,” you moaned.

He held you close and continued to fuck your aching cunt. You felt so light, body and soul. It was like you were ascending, leaving the world behind. You grabbed one of his hands and directed him to rub your clit. His touch was anything but gentle as he roughly pressed up against your sensitive bud.

“Fuck! Please, don’t stop.”

He was more than happy to obey. He kissed you as you came, swallowing your enraptured moans. He continued to thrust, your cum coating his cock. His groaning and whimpering overtook the room, the most heavenly symphony you experienced.

“Are you gonna come too?” you cooed in his ear.

“Uh-huh,” he panted.

“Wanna come inside me?”

“Yeah,” he whined.

Vash bucked his hips and spurts of warm cum filled your cunt. He reclined, taking you down with him. He released you from his embrace and you rolled over onto your back.

“So… What did you think?”

“I liked it a lot. Maybe even too much.”

You giggled. “I’m glad.”

You glanced over at him and noticed he was staring at you with his big, puppy dog eyes.

“Can we cuddle?”

He nodded and laid on his side, spooning you. You dozed off, listening to his breathing and the rain tapping against the window. It was so peaceful, one of those moments you wanted to last a lifetime.

A loud roar cut through the air. You sprung up out of bed and covered your ears, desperate to block out the noise. It sounded like the unholy combination of a jet engine and a blaring trumpet. You felt like your head was splitting in two, like someone was smashing your skull with a mallet. You were consumed with dread, with guilt. You felt sick to your stomach.

You saw Vash sitting on the edge of your bed, staring out the window.

“What the hell is that? Was that a fucking trumpet?” you asked, rubbing your head.

“Don’t worry about it.”

You yawned. “I’m getting really sick of you saying that.”

He turned to look at you, his face pale like a ghost’s.

“Just go back to sleep.”

You reached out to him. “I need you near me to do that.”

He gave you a wistful smile and snuggled up beside you. You held onto him tight, hoping your grip would be strong enough to trap him. You didn’t want him to leave. You needed him to stay. He was in no position to wander around on his own, running from God knows what.

“Promise you’ll stay. For a little while at least.”

He was silent.

“Vash.”

His eyes were shut and he was lightly snoring. You prayed that he heard you before he fell asleep, that he would remember what you said and let you help him. There was no reason for him to carry his burden alone, whatever it might be.

That morning you were dismayed to see your grip had been too weak. He was gone. You got up out of bed and looked around, hoping he was in the bathroom or digging through your kitchen cabinets. But he was nowhere to be found. You wondered if he had ever been there in the first place. Maybe he was just a delusion, the beginnings of a religious frenzy triggered by mental collapse.

You returned to your bedroom, hoping to sleep away your misery, and saw a hastily written note on your nightstand.

I’m sorry I didn’t say goodbye. I knew leaving would be impossible if I waited for you to wake up. Please don’t take it personally. I wish I could sta

Thank you. For everything.

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