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taylors-fourth-cat-meow · 2 years

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Acowar Chp: 44 - The High Lords Meeting.

Okay this is from the chp tamlin enters because tbh I am not interested in anything before that lol

If u don't like Tamlin and love ic and feyre kindly leave now you have been forewarned.

Absolute silence. Absolute stillness.

Yeah baby that’s how you honour my king

I tried to school mine into the cold caution with which Nesta regarded him, or the vague distaste on Mor’s. I tried—and failed utterly.

Is there anything this loser doesn’t fail?

I knew his moods, his temper

What moods??!?!?! What FUCKING TEMPER BITCH??!!! See, this how tamlin is being viewed for having ugly trauma. Feyre brings up his trauma constantly. She throws tantrums and spits out rubbish without thinking how it might affect him. And when it ultimately does?? hE HaS mOoDS.

Here was the High Lord who had shredded those naga into bloody ribbons; here was the High Lord who had impaled Amarantha on Lucien’s sword and ripped out her throat with his teeth.

KING 🤌🏼🤌🏼🥵🧎🏽‍♀️

I didn’t know what to say. What to do with my body, my breathing.

Don’t worry babe you’re feminist king mate will tell you soon enough. 🙄

No more masks, no more lies and deceptions. The truth, now sprawled bare and open before him. What I’d done in my rage, the lies I’d fed him. The people and land I’d laid vulnerable to Hybern. And now that I’d returned to my family, my mate …

What in the? See? See? THIS BITCH FUCKING KNEW WHAT SHE WAS DOING??? PEOPLE I LAID VULNERABLE TO HYBERN. I. SEE THAT BITCHES?? Feyre herself is taking accountability for it? Maas herself is admitting Feyrug comitted a war crime only Feyrug is a Girlboss™️ for it. Djdjdjnsksla

Not as Tamlin surveyed the hand Rhys had resting on my sparkling knee.

How does your knee sparkle bitch? Like- are u Barbie? No what body wash are u using? Tell me don't be shy.

No, Amarantha hadn’t really known me—her loathing had been superficial, driven from a personal history that poisoned everything. Tamlin … Tamlin knew me. And now hated every inch of what I was.

SO WHY TF IS HE STILL NOT OVER THIS VANILLA COAT RACK IN THE NOVELLA?!?

“I’m not in the business of discussing our plans with enemies.”

Helion, across the reflection pool, grinned like a lion.

“No,” Tamlin said with equal ease, “you’re just in the business of fucking them.”

HOW- LIKE HOW CAN U NOT STAN THIS SAVAGE KING?!?

But whether Tamlin noticed or cared that three of the deadliest people in this room were currently contemplating his demise, he didn’t let on.

Deadliest? Bitch u kidding right? Tamlin is a high lord he cud kill your pet bats in a sec if he wanted too? And miss ma'am is sitting in a room full all the high lords and two bats who wear colourful stones and a lie dectector are the most deadliest? Like damn sjm how do u even fit all that bat dick in your throat?

Rhys shrugged, smiling faintly. “Seems a far less destructive alternative to war.”

So he can apologise to Kallias for not doing anything while children in his court were killed but can't apologise to tamlin for standing by and actually helping to put his ppl in concentration camps and torture them?!

I said quietly, “The sun was shining when I left you.”

Those green eyes slid to me, glazed and foreign. He let out a low snort, then looked away again.

Dismissal.

HOW IS HE SOOOO HAWT?!?!???????!!!!

Like idk feyre is trying to make it seem Girlboss that miss ma'am left tamlin with the guy who assualted her, who slaughtered Tamlins family and can control minds and hates tamlin, and thought to say goodbye via a letter? A letter written by an illiterate? Miss girl trying to be poetic and badass. Uk what is actually badass? "DISMISSAL" 🤌🏼🤌🏼🥵🥵🧎🏽‍♀️🤰

“I bartered access to my lands to get back the woman I love from a sadist who plays with minds as if they are toys. I meant to fight Hybern—to find a way around the bargain I made with the king once she was back. Only Rhysand and his cabal had turned her into one of them. And she delighted in ripping open my territory for Hybern to invade. All for a petty grudge—either her own or her … master’s.”

OOFFF POP OFF MY LOVE!! YASSS "all for a petty grudge" YESS CALL OUT THAT BITCH!!

“You don’t get to rewrite the narrative,” I breathed. “You don’t get to spin this to your advantage.”

Okay this is so fcking ironic cause this statement is basically acomaf in a nutshell. I feel like one her editors told sjm this and she just used it as a 'fck u to them' lol.

“They peddle tales of defending our land and peace. And yet she came to my lands and laid them bare for Hybern. She took my High Priestess and warped her mind—after she shattered her bones for spite. And if you are asking yourself what happened to that human girl who went Under the Mountain to save us … Look to the male sitting beside her. Ask what he stands to gain—what they stand to gain from this war, or lack of it. Would we fight Hybern, only to find ourselves with a Queen and King of Prythian? She’s proved her ambition—and you saw how he was more than happy to serve Amarantha to remain unscathed.”

YES BABY!! He is legit the only character that calls these ppl out on their bs? Istg Tamlin is the most sensible person in this series. Like my man's talking business. He is literally the only one smart enough to notice Rhysie Gaslighting? He's is literally pointing out on a silver platter that RHYSAND IS FCKING MANIPULATING FEYRE and yet she doesn't understand lmao

Rhys let out a dark laugh. “Well played, Tamlin. You’re learning.”

See? This what they do? The second tamlin brings out valid points and starts calling them out they start condescending him? Exactly how women have faced this all these years. The second they take a stand they are labelled crazy.

Kallias’s eyes flared like blue flame. “You stood beside her throne while the order was given.”

I watched, stomach twisting, as Rhys’s golden skin paled. “I tried to stop it.”

So we are just going to go ahead and forget that fact in Acotar it was Rhysie the who killed the kids? Really?

Rhys’s mouth tightened. “There is not one day that passes when I don’t remember it,” he said to Kallias, to Viviane. To their companions. “Not one day.”

Says the guy who wanted to fck his mate in safe place of SA survivors.

Not … what he might have been forced to witness, too. Forced to endure, bound and trapped.

And standing by, leashed to Amarantha, while she ordered the murder of those children—

Okay u have no fcking idea how MAD this makes me!! Two dozen children died? Their parents lost their children?! And somehow the man who stood by and did nothing is the victim? What like what?!?!??!

“I believe you.”

“Says the woman,” Beron countered, “who gave an innocent girl’s name in her stead—for Amarantha to butcher as well.”

Yes old creepy guy call her out! See the ppl who actually do call her out and just deemed irredeemable villians who just talk shit about Feyrug just cause they are evil.

I blocked out the words, the memory of Clare.

I- what that's it? That's it?!?? Beron just rightfully called her out on causing Clare's death and she just "blocks out the memory" wtf?!

“Who knew,” Beron mused, “that a cock could be so persuasive?”

Pls 💀

“Stories and words,” Tamlin said, lounging in his chair. “Is there any proof?”

YES ANSWER HIM U LITTLE BITCH

“No,” Rhys cut in as Mor blocked Cassian with an arm, forcing him to sit. Rhys added to Kallias, “But I swear it—upon my mate’s life.” His hand at last rested atop mine.

Not good enough for me bitch

Tamlin rolled his eyes

I literally loosing my shit like how is this "your hair is...clean" man literally roasting these bitches. My man really said break up = glow up 🤌🏼🤌🏼🥵

“I once told you I would fight against tyranny, against that sort of evil. Did you think you were enough to turn me from that?” His teeth shone white as bone. “It was so easy for you to call me a monster, despite all I did for you, for your family.” A sneer toward Nesta, who was frowning with distaste.

YES YES YES DRAG HER BABE!! Like he is do right!!! Tamlin did do A LOT for those two ungrateful idiots. They were starving and poor even when feyre was hunting. What tamlin did WAS NOT THE BARE FUCKING MINIMUM. Uk what wud be bare minimum? Giving them a piece of meat and bread every two weeks because that was literally what feyre was providing them. Idk I kinda hate Nesta here. Distaste? Girl u shud thanking him on your knees.

“Yet you witnessed all that he did Under the Mountain, and still spread your legs for him. Fitting, I suppose. He whored for Amarantha for decades. Why shouldn’t you be his whore in return?”

Yes. I said this before too? Tamlin is LITERALLY the only one to point out that their relationship is based on SA!??! And uk... Like idk what I said before. But this isn't slut shaming to me. Nope it isn't. Srry. He is harsh and he gets to be that after what Feyrug did to him but he's rightfully pointing out the truth.

“Watch your mouth,” Mor snapped. I was having difficulty swallowing—breathing.

Tamlin ignored her wholly and waved a hand toward Rhysand’s wings. “I sometimes forget—what you are. Have the masks come off now, or is this another ploy?”

How- how do u hate a person like this? Like can I just say if tamlin was a female in this relationship and Feyrug the male let's see how many not call feyrug abusive and cheer tamlin on.

“You’d be all too happy for war, considering how well you made out in the last one.”

(Tamlin to Helion)

Wait a damn minute. Which war is this? Is he talking about the humans war? DOES HE KNOW ABOUT THE AFFAIR???! like what is the fcking context?! Djdjdjsksksm

Okayyy this is all for now. There's more about Tamlin nd hybern but I made a seperate post altogether about it so no point in discussing. The rest of the chp is boring and too much...even for me. Hope u liked it!!

#anti sjm #anti acotar #tamlin #anti feyre #anti feysand #anti rhysand #anti acowar #tamlin supremacy #pro tamlin

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watchmegetobsessed · 3 years

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The Hottest Avenger - Bucky Barnes

a/n: im warning you, i will probably not stop for a while with the bucky fics so... brace yourselves lol! also i wrote this before ep 5 came out so its placed in that time

pairing: Bucky X Reader

warnings: TFATWS spoiler, some violence? nothing extreme

word count: 1.8k

summary: Being locked together with Sam and Bucky brings the worst out of you, picking on each other constantly. Following an arguement Bucky accidentally calls you his girlfriend in front of Sam when your relationship was supposed to be a secret.

masterlist

“Did you fucking eat the last dumpling?” you accuse Sam, holding up the empty takeout box where you thought were one more dumpling, one you’ve saved for yourself, but now it’s gone as Sam is eyeing you with his mouth full.

“Thought it was mine,” he mumbles, his words barely understandable from all the food in his mouth.

Taking a deep breath you’re trying not to jump at his throat right then and there. You’ve been locked up together all damn day in the trashy apartment across the street from the building where’s Zemo supposed to be hiding. Sharon had a tip about a possible place where he might be found, but you’ve been waiting to no avail for now. You’ve been growing stressed and impatient. You lost track of Karli and her people and now you can’t seem to find Zemo either. If it wasn’t for the Dora Milaje, you wouldn’t bother to be so after the asshole, but Bucky said if Ayo finds him first, he is dead and every useful information he holds goes to the grave with him so now you are forced to look for him. One failed mission has been following the other these days, that incompetent dickhead John is on the loose too after murdering that man in front of civilians and you feel like control has slipped out of your grip a long time ago. Now you’re stuck with Sam and Bucky in this crappy place, waiting by the window, watching out for Zemo and on top of everything… Sam ate your last dumpling.

Just when you’re about to snap at him, you feel a strong grip on your shoulder. You don’t have to look up to know it’s Bucky right behind you, but not just because he is the only other person in the room beside you and Sam, but also because you know his touch probably more than anyone. Only that most of the times it’s not your shoulder he is gripping…

It’s been going on for a long time between the two of you. Started with just some innocent flirting and you never thought it would grow into something more significant, but it did. And now you are officially in a relationship with none other than the Winter Soldier, only that no one else knows about it and you plan to keep it that way. You don’t need the teasing and jokes and the Avengers are known to be dicks sometimes, especially Sam.

Glancing up your eyes meet Bucky’s blue irises and he sends you a look that says “just let it go”, and though every fiber in you wants to whoop Sam’s ass, you let it slip.

“Don’t tell me you’re gonna get mad about a dumpling,” Sam chuckles as he chews on the food that you should be enjoying right now.

“I can get mad about whatever I want to,” you growl back, growing quite irritated of him at this point.

“Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed,” he huffs under his breath, clearly not as bothered as he should be. Before you could do any harm in him, you leave your spot by the window, needing a breather from… well, from him.

“Hey, it’s still your turn!” he calls after you.

“I need a break,” you growl back.

“Get your ass back here, we agreed to switch every two hours!”

“Sam! I’m walking out because I’m way too tempted to punch you in the face right now!” you snap at him, losing your patience. He rises from his seat with a hard expression, not quite a fan of the way you just talked to him, but you couldn’t care less.

“You think you could actually throw one? Because last time we fought you couldn’t really get a hold of me,” he narrows his eyes at you, coming to stand tall in front of you, trying to intimidate you with how much taller and stronger he might be, but you both know you’re a better fighter.

“It’s easy to talk with your fancy tech stuff. Why don’t we see who wins in a simple battle?” you challenge him with faked boredom.

“Guys, stop. We should be looking out for Zemo, not tearing each other apart,” Bucky tries to end the staring contest, sticking his metal arm between the two of you in case any of you decides to launch at the other one.

“Then tell her to stop bitching!” Sam nods in your way.

“I’m not bitching, I’m just fed up with your bullshit!” you spat back at him, leaning closer, your chest coming in contact with Bucky’s extended arm.

“Don’t talk to her like that, Sam,” Bucky warns him, but Sam snorts dryly.

“Don’t tell me you are taking her side, she is throwing a fit for a fucking dumpling!”

“I’m not taking sides, just trying to settle this stupid disagreement here,” he defends himself and you roll your eyes.

“You can’t tell me she is not overreacting it, Buck!” Sam laughs in disbelief, taking a step back, dropping the act that he wants to fight you. He probably knows he would come out as a ridiculous loser. “This is fucking insane, I’m not in the mood to deal with your shit, Y/N,” he shakes his head.

“Hey!” Bucky snaps at him. “Don’t talk to my girlfriend like that, okay?!”

“I’m just—wait, what?!” Sam’s eyes widen and you freeze too.

Your dumbass boyfriend didn’t just out the two of you, did he? What else is about to come?! Sam’s shock turns into a cocky grin as his eyes shift between you and Bucky.

“You guys… you guys are fucking?” he asks with a delightful laugh and you close your eyes sighing, already tired of his shit.

“That’s not—We’re not fucking, I mean… It’s not like that,” Bucky stutters, but it’s just making it worse. He looks at you with terror in his eyes, but you are way too drained to deal with it the right way.

“Yes, we are fucking! And we are in a mature adult relationship! Get yourself over it!” you bark at Sam before turning around and walking out.

You faintly hear the two men talk inside, but you don’t make out the words. You don’t go too far, sitting on the steps leading up to the third floor. Soon enough you hear the door of the apartment open with a creak and a moment later Bucky shows up in your sight. He sits beside you, remaining silent for a little before speaking up.

“Sorry for running my mouth,” he mumbles, his head hanging low.

“It’s… fine,” you breathe out. Bucky fidgets with his fingers and you know he wants to touch you in any kind of way as a reassurance that it really is fine. You don’t want to hold a grudge, it was an accident, you’re just a little bummed it’s not gonna be just the two of you anymore. Reaching out you take his hand, the real one that’s flesh and meat and you lace your fingers together as he peeks at you, still reserved and hesitant.

“Is it really fine or are you just bottling it up?”

“It really is fine,” you chuckle softly and leaning closer you kiss his scruffy cheek. “The only reason I wanted to keep it a secret is because you know how vickery the guys can get. I just didn’t want them to pick on us.”

“They do it because they are just jealous,” he smirks playfully, his shoulder bumping against yours.

“Yeah? Of what?” A soft chuckle slips through your lips.

“That I scored the hottest Avenger,” he replies smugly and you can’t help but laugh with your head snapping back.

“I didn’t know you were fucking Thor!” you retort and immediately see his smirk vanish from his lips as he stares back at you, not enjoying your joke as much as you are.

“Thor? Really? Not this shit again, Y/N,” he narrows his eyes at you. Back when you were just skirting around each other, you loved pulling his leg, joking about how much you are into the hottest Avenger, aka Thor. He never appreciated it, usually earned you a tight-lipped smile before he mumbled “Tarzan’s got nothing on me” before walking away, leaving you laughing like a hyena.

“Come on, you know I’m more into super soldiers,” you grin, leaning closer as he pepper his sharp jawline with more small kisses.

“You know, it’s not the best thing to say to your boyfriend when there are now about eight more super soldiers running around,” he huffs.

“But none of them has a metal arm,” you point out, finally making him laugh.

“So that’s your kink? A vibranium arm?” he asks with faked shock and you curl your arms around his bicep, resting your chin on his shoulder.

“How haven’t you realized yet?” you chuckle. Bucky turns his head until his lips can capture yours in a sweet, lighthearted kiss that makes you forget about everything that’s been clouding over your mind these past days. All the failures, the mistakes and chaos fades into nothing, because you have him and he has you.

Walking back into the apartment Sam stares back at you, neither of you entirely sure how to act after what just happened. He then grabs his phone from the dusty table before holding it up.

“I could order some extra dumplings,” he offers and you crack a smile shaking your head. This was his peace offering, both of you knows he won’t straight up apologize for the way he talked, but this is already more than what you were expecting from him. Bucky must have had a few words with him before joining you outside.

“It’s all good.”

The three of you get back to work, taking your previous spots, returning to the task on hand as silence falls on the room once again. You catch Sam glancing at you and the Bucky and you can tell he is about to make a snarky comment on your relationship. And just as he is about to open his big mouth, Bucky moves to silence him, but you’re faster. With a simple move you throw Sam to the ground, keeping him down with your hand wrapped around his neck.

“Don’t even think about teasing, understood?” you hiss at him as he gasps for air, his hands wrapping around your wrist as he tries to fight you off, but you hold him a second longer to emphasize the importance of your words. Then you finally let go of him and he coughs for air, fixing him up from the floor as you simply walk back to your spot by the window.

“Hottest Avenger, huh?” he breathes out, revealing that he heard what you talked about out on the stairs. “More like the Avenger with the most anger issues…”

You just grin, glancing over at your boyfriend who is now standing with his arms crossed over his chest, not even bothered by his friend’s struggles on the floor as he smirks back at you, nodding proudly as if he was saying: “That’s my girl.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

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mercy-burning · 3 years

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Love Birds

Part of Mercy’s 1k Celebration: A collection of Spencer Reid x Reader requests to celebrate 1,000 followers.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Some meddling from the BAU helps Reader and Spencer come to their senses. Category: FLUFF Warnings: None really, just brief mentions of sex, some kissing, implied smut, mutual pining, and the word ‘damn’ at the end I guess? Word Count: 3.2k

Full Request: “...a blurb? Where the sexual tension between reader and spencer is very high and everybody is like ‘get a room’ so when they finally do it spencer tells penelope and reader tell emily so the next day penelope gives him those strawberries in chocolate that say ‘best dick ever’ and emily gives reader a cake that say ‘i finally get sex’ and reader and spencer are so embarrassed” —Anonymous

MASTERLIST | 1K MASTERLIST

NOTE: Gotta love some good, ol’ fashioned BAU meddling, am I right? 😂 I took the prompt and made it just a little different, but I hope it’s still okay! Hopefully the overall vibe is still what you imagined 🥰

***

Everyone was watching them. Truthfully, it was a wonder they hadn't noticed by now, but that was most likely to be expected from two people who were obviously in love with each other and still hadn't done anything about it yet.

Three years now. That's how long it had been since Y/N joined the team, and from the first day, she and Spencer were glued at the hip. She was the only one who actively listened to and laughed at his long, obscure jokes, and as their friendship blossomed, he stared following her around like a lovesick puppy. It was sickly-sweet, truth be told.

And the longer it went on, the longer they danced around the inevitable, the more fed-up the BAU got.

Currently, Spencer and Y/N were reading a book together. Like, they were actually reading together, sitting side by side while they took turns reading aloud. They did it every day when they came into work, and when they finished one book, the other person would pick the next one.

"I want to say it's annoying, but it's actually kind of sweet," JJ pointed out, peering through the blinds in Hotch's office, where they all gathered to spy on their friends.

"Yeah, but they've been doing it for almost two years," Emily stated. "You'd think that by now they'd have at least kissed..."

"Maybe they have and they just... haven't said anything?"

Penelope piped in this time, shaking her head. "No, Y/N would have told me, she tells me everything. And I mean everything."

"Well, what about Reid? Has he said anything to you?" JJ asked, turning to Derek.

He sighed. "No. But you know how he is, if he could avoid telling me anything at all about his love life, he would. And he has."

"Well, maybe you should say something to him," Emily suggested.

"You know he'll just shut me down and deny it."

"Then Garcia should do it."

She thought about it for a second before turning to Derek. "I am excellent at getting information out of people."

Suddenly the door opened, and everyone turned around to see Hotch entering his office, stopping for a second to take them all in before closing the door behind him.

"Sir, we can explain—" Penelope started.

Hotch held up a hand and made his way to his desk. "You're spying on them, aren't you?"

A quiet chorus of mumbled 'yes' and 'yes, sir's sounded through the room before he actually sat down with the most miniscule of smiles.

"I'd say to make sure you all leave one at a time so they don't catch on, but something tells me they wouldn't notice anyway."

***

A few hours later, the team made their way to the jet in little groups.

Firstly, Penelope pulled Spencer away into her office for a 'special meeting' that he was only slightly concerned about. But when she finally closed the door, he found it was nothing like what he expected to hear.

The first words out of her mouth were, "When are you going to tell her?"

"I'm... I'm sorry?"

Her face scrunched as she pointed a finger at him. "Don't play dumb with me, 187, I may not be a profiler, but I know love when I see it. You and Y/N are perfect for each other, and you guys are literally driving us mad with the sexual tension."

"I—Garcia, we're just friends, I... I don't..."

"Look, you've got a plane to catch, so I'm not gonna keep you any longer, but everyone can see it, Reid. You two? You're practically soulmates."

He really didn't know what to say after that. So he wordlessly turned and made his way to the jet alone, thinking the entire way there about what Penelope had said.

Soulmates? Love? Sexual tension?

Of course he'd always thought Y/N was pretty. And there wasn't a doubt in his mind that she was the one person on the team he knew he could come to when he had something he was excited to share, because she was always down to hear him talk. And... he never really realized it until now, but it always warmed the deepest parts of his soul when he saw how her eyes lit up at the chance to hear him talk—to just listen to what he had to say.

He thought back to every time they read together, how her leg always brushed against his and how it always seemed to comfort him. How her voice when she read aloud always seemed to put him in a trance, like a lullaby. She was his warm place, his safety net...

But... that was totally normal for friendships, right? More often than not, platonic friendships carried that warm familiarity that also came with romantic ones. It wasn't uncommon.

Still, it set off an explosion of fireworks in Spencer's stomach to just think about sitting next to her on the jet.

Meanwhile, everyone else was there, going through some files on the case when Emily sat down in front of Y/N and cleared her throat.

"What's up?" Y/N asked politely with a small smile.

"Nothing, it just... I saw you and, uh... Dr. Reid looked pretty comfy this morning."

Her eyes widened. "Oh, uh... Were we reading too loud? We've been trying to keep it quieter because we figured it was a bit unconventional—"

"No, no," Emily laughed, thinking to herself how absolutely perfect they were for each other. "I mean... You were really close... Like maybe you're... into him."

"O—oh... Well, I—I don't... Um..."

With another laugh, Emily reached her hand out to reassure her. "I'm not trying to put you on the spot, Y/N, it's just that we've all... noticed how close you guys have gotten over the years and it looked like maybe you two..."

"Oh! Oh, no, uh... We—we're not together or anything, I... He's my best friend. That's all."

By the redness that colored Y/N's cheeks, Emily wasn't buying it one bit. Yet, she indulged her, nodding and patting the little table in front of her before getting up to move to a different section. "If you say so."

She walked away, leaving Y/N with a newfound... tension within her that she couldn't really shake. And it only amplified when Spencer walked onto the jet and took his usual seat next to her.

They greeted each other with small waves, but something felt off. And when his hand brushed up against her leg on accident, she felt a light buzz course through her veins, like some type of switch had been flipped.

It's only because of what Emily said, Y/N thought. She just got in my head, that's all this is.

But the longer the day went on, after landing in Idaho and setting up at the precinct, the buzz only amplified. Every time he said her name, she felt it kick up, and likewise, whenever she said his, he felt the thrum of his chest get heavier.

Everyone could tell, too, though they seemed rather amused by it all. While Y/N and Spencer were out at the ME's office, Emily, JJ, and Derek sat at the table in their temporary office and talked it over.

"I actually feel kinda bad," JJ said. "I mean... It seems like they're just being awkward around each other now..."

"That's not a bad thing... It just means they're finally starting to come to their senses," Emily countered with a wave of her hand. "They'll be fine."

Derek scoffed with a smile. "Yeah, I give it 'til the end of the case. Without work to distract themselves from each other, there's no way they won't say something."

Sure enough, the topics of conversation walked through the door just then, immediately putting distance between themselves on opposite sides of the table. And before anyone could say anything else, Spencer jumped the gun, going into detail on what they discovered about the case.

***

"We won't be heading home until tomorrow morning, so I booked us all rooms at the hotel on main street. I'll give you your keys when we get there. Good work, everyone, get some rest."

Hotch disappeared into the night, leaving the rest of the team to pack up a few things in their office before following him.

Y/N chatted happily with JJ, but deep inside she was nervous. Because everyone had been acting strange all day, pairing her and Spencer up every chance they got, and it was impossible to miss all the fake 'I wasn't looking at you guys' stares into space that they all constantly adorned.

Not to mention the fact that ever since Emily even brought it up to her, Spencer also seemed nervous around her. Their whole dynamic had been thrown off, and now she could barely look at him without immediately looking away and wondering what it would be like to kiss him. Now that the thought has been planted in her head, it's all she can think about, and it's very distracting. And knowing how... interested her friends seem to be in her predicament, the biggest fear she has at the moment is that she and Spencer will be rooming together.

As they got into separate cars and headed to the hotel, she fiddled with her thumbs, picking at the chipped nail polish and hoping that she'll get to rest easy.

And as Hotch handed out room keys in the lobby, she felt her heartbeat pick up, Emily and JJ sharing a key and Derek walking off with his own.

And then he said the one thing she was afraid of, and it almost froze her completely.

"I was only able to get two rooms with double beds, so you guys will have to share, if that's alright."

At that point Y/N would have rather shared a bed with Rossi, because that would have been less awkward. But she and Spencer both nodded, he took the key, and they both silently made their way to the room, keeping their heads low.

Even as they finally stepped into the room the air felt fragile, like one wrong move could break it and send them into space, where there wasn't enough breathable oxygen to keep them alive. And much like in the office today, they kept their distance on opposite sides of the room, separated by the bed.

It was Spencer who broke the silence first.

"I can take the floor if you want..."

The small, sweet way he said it almost made her heart shatter. "O—oh no, you don't have to. That would be silly."

"Are you sure? Because I can—"

"No, it's okay, really. I don't mind."

They stared at each other for what seemed like forever, before Y/N's phone buzzed in her pocket, and she turned around to answer the call.

As she walked into the bathroom, answering, "Hi, Mom," before shutting the door, Spencer let out a long breath and rubbed his eyes, wondering how he was going to get through the night. He also wondered if Penelope had talked to Y/N as well, because this awkwardness they were experiencing was most certainly double-sided. And if that was the case, did that mean... she was in love with him, too? Firstly, was he even sure he was in love with her in the first place?

Maybe a little, he decided, thinking back to practically every single moment they've ever spent together. And as he quickly changed into pajamas and situated himself in bed, he thought about what it would be like to kiss her. Is that something he would want to do? Could he see himself kissing her over and over again for the rest of his life?

He had his answer when she walked out of the bathroom, wearing shorts and a tank top, her hair out of its ponytail and cascading down her shoulders as she plopped her phone down on the chair in the corner of the room and walked to the bed.

He tried to look away, but he couldn't. And he was thankful in a way for this newfound uneasy air between them, because she refused to look at him, and it gave him all the clearance he needed to follow her trail around the room.

But when she finally settled into bed, and as he felt her weight dip beside him, Spencer looked down at his lap. He was afraid the close proximity would give him away.

She cracked open a book and read in silence for a few seconds before she turned to him. "Did... Is this distracting? I can stop and we can just go to sleep if you're tired..."

"Oh, n—no, it's not distracting. You're fine. I was, um... I was going to grab a book of my own anyway."

He swung his leg over to get out of bed, but Y/N stopped him. "Well, um... I, uh... I know we're already in the middle of a different book, but if you wanted to, we could, um... read this one together? I—I think you'd like it, it's about the—"

"Sure. I—I'd um... I'd like that. Whatever it's about, I'm sure I'll like it. Y—you know, since you said it was good. You have good taste, so I t—trust your judgement."

He was just rambling now, and hearing Y/N laugh a little, he internally berated himself for letting it get awkward again.

Nevertheless, she opened up the covers to get underneath, and slowly scooted closer to him. Once their knees touched, they both jumped a little, but Spencer cleared his throat and Y/N busied herself by trying to find the first page, neither of them commenting on the obvious shock of butterflies that shot through both of their insides at the tiniest contact.

"Do you mind if I start?" she asked softly, turning her head slightly to the side so she could see him. He nodded, giving her the go ahead, and she turned to the page, focusing on the words in front of her.

Unsurprisingly, it was easy for them to get into a familiar groove. They took turns reading each few pages, and stopped in between to discuss things they'd read. It also wasn't surprising to find that they gradually got closer, their arms and legs now completely touching side by side and their faces dangerously close as they leaned down to read.

Spencer had just finished reading a chapter, reaching out to turn the page, and Y/N seemed to have the same thought, because her hand collided with his in a way that left no room for subtlety, or drawback to avoid that it even happened. Their pinkies interlocked, and Y/N found herself entranced by the curves and peaks of his hand. How each of his fingers slightly twitched at the contact, and how prominent the veins in his forearm were.

Her heartbeat picked up, and his did, too, as he focused on how tightly her pinkie was curling around his own, desperate not to let go.

"Y/N," he whispered. It wasn't a question, nor a warning, but it rolled off his tongue softly as if it was the sweetest word he'd ever had the pleasure to say. It was just one little word, her first name, conveyed with such adoration and obvious pining that he was afraid he'd scared her away.

But she held his pinkie tight, the book resting open beneath them on their adjoined knees, and then looked over at him.

And her eyes held the same weight as her name on his lips.

It was unclear of who moved first, but it happened so fast that surely it didn't matter. In a flash, their lips were joining in soft desperation, and rather than locking pinkies, Y/N shifted her hand to weave all their fingers together. The squeeze he gave her hand made her sigh against his mouth, and it was all the most relieving thing in the world.

After she pulled away, he chased her face for a second, not wanting it to end. But his eyes flew open and when he saw her staring back at him, her lips slightly puffed and her eyes almost hungry, he knew he didn't have to worry about the moment ending any time soon.

The book was long forgotten right then, tossed across the room somewhere as their clothes soon followed.

***

"So, how do you think the love birds got along last night?" Emily asked to no one in particular as the group gathered in the lobby.

Derek snickered. "If they came to their senses, I'm sure they got along just fine."

Everyone laughed at that, just as said love birds made their way to the lobby.

"Sleep well?" JJ asked, obviously trying not to smirk.

"Mhm," they both mumbled in response.

They were going to leave it alone, but that's when Rossi showed up, peering over in Spencer's direction. Then he pointed briefly to his neck. "You got a little something there, genius."

Everyone clapped excitedly, Emily letting out a low whistle and Derek rounding it off with a loud and proud, "Atta boy!"

The redness on both Y/N and Spencer's faces didn't clear up the entire way home.

And after the text that Emily sent out to Penelope, it was looking like it might get even worse.

***

"Welcome home, my beautiful family! Come on, I have something special for everyone in the round-table room."

Penelope led the way, Y/N and Spencer bringing up the rear.

"I'm sorry about this morning," she whispered. "I really didn't even notice I'd made a mark, I—"

"It's okay," he reassured her. "I... I guess they kinda knew we'd get to that point eventually anyway."

"Yeah... I just wish it wouldn't have happened so soon, you know? We're never gonna live this down."

She wasn't expecting him to lace his fingers with hers, and the action made her smile.

They'd fallen a bit behind, so when they finally caught up to everyone in the room, it was terrifying to see them all with knowing, mischievous smiles. And before Y/N could explain, Spencer started speaking.

"Okay, okay, yes. Y/N and I... finally... got together last night. But you can't make it weird, and I'm not going to let you make it weird, because—"

"Ohh, it's a little late for that, boy wonder," Garcia said, giggly and holding out a cake box.

Spencer and Y/N looked at each other briefly before taking a look, immediately gasping and going red.

It was a small cake, shaped like a heart with a red trim of frosting around it. And right in the middle, in pretty red cursive, were the words, "We finally had sex!"

"Penelope!" Y/N whined and shoved her face into Spencer's chest, the heat radiating off her face like a space heater on high blast.

The howling laughter that erupted from everyone else in the room was something neither of them would forget.

But even through the curtain of embarrassment, Y/N and Spencer both knew that beyond it awaited a very promising relationship, especially with friends who supported them. Even if that support manifested in rather... enthusiastic ways.

And, despite the initial embarrassment of it all, the cake tasted pretty damn good.

PERMANENT TAGLIST:

@elldell1204 @muffin-cup @calm-and-doctor @slutforthegubes @s1utformgg @rainsong01 @yourmisosoup

TAGS NOT WORKING: @takeyourleap-of-faith @emilyprentisslittlewhore

If you would like to be added to the taglist, feel free to message me or leave a comment, and I’ll add you!

#mercy 1k celebration #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader fluff

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putseraphinaonthaphone · 3 years

Text

Group Chat | Poly HCs

After the first night y'all fucked, you expected it to be awkward. Or for them all to ditch you. Instead, the next morning when you woke up and checked the group chat.. they seemed to have reached an agreement among themselves? Your face was bright red as you slowly read the conversation where they decided you were theirs.

boomboi 2:21

Either we claim her together or she's mine. I'm not letting anyone else get their hands on her.

sleepystoner 2:24

I thought that was agreed already.

blueflamer 2:29

Anyone else sees her fucked out I'm killing them.

boomboi 2:42

I'll help you hide the body.

sleepystoner 2:58

There won't be a need for murder if we keep an eye on her.

icyhot 3:12

I have a collar she can wear as well.

They'll share you, but only with each other. Anyone else puts their hands on you they getting their shit rocked. All of you get tested so they can fill you with their cum (you were given many, many orgasms to convince you to give them a free use pass on your holes), and Dabi and Bakugou threaten you in their prove you want to be mine way of theirs until you reassure the four of them that you're not going to be fucking anyone else- especially since you spend most of your time recovering from getting fucked constantly.

SO... Poly!squad boyfriend HCs

Shinsou

Is actually really chill about the dynamic?

You still get your cuddle time together, except now sometimes you woke up with cum leaking down your thighs

Sometimes if you catch him in a good mood (by promising to let him fuck your tits after y'all smoke his horniest weed strain) you can get him to dance with you for one song

Which you love because he gropes and bites you as you grind against him as teasingly as possibly, and inevitably fucks you against the closest wall- if people can see, fuck 'em

When he's too tired to fuck he still enjoys being the one you cling to while you take dick after dick in your pretty holes

The way you moan and whimper and whine, and call out for your daddy..

It's top tier in his book

Dabi

Is more jealous than Bakugou

Someone comes to ask for help with homework while you're with him?

He's telling them to "fuck off before I break your jaw"

Someone flirts with you while you wait for him to pick you up, he's coming out of the car swinging

These instances usually end up with you fucked against his car, forced to scream out who you belong to until he can settle

You're surprised when he starts coming to pick you up from your dorm, but when you mention it he chokes you on his dick- telling you to shut up and hoping you don't notice the blush on his cheeks

Shoto

He's not as quick to anger as Dabi, but if he finds out you're hurt in anyway he goes batshit

Some jealous little sluts had cornered you in the bathroom and told you that you were a two dollar whore and that's the only reason any of the boys spent any time with you

You were never sure how it happened, but videos of those girl's boyfriends cheating on them were leaked onto the school's facebook page, and they never spoke to you again

When it was just the two of you, Sho let you say sweet things to him while you gave him pleasure. Sucking him deep into your throat and then riding him while feeding your nipples into his mouth while you told him how proud you were of him, how stunning he was, how he would do great things because he was dedicated to his work

When Dabi joined you they both fed off each other's hunger until they were fucking you hard and deep, savoring your tears and screams and pathetic begging for a break just as they savored your laughter and smiles when y'all got high together

Bakugou

Isn't jealous because y'alls dynamic is the most domestic and everyone can see it

From the way you sit on his lap no matter how many seats are available, and the way you always dote on him- somehow always pulling out snacks and lunches and drinks for him when you find him in the library or common areas, because you know how he always forgets to eat when he's working

To the way he sometimes just comes up behind you kissing on your neck and asking what's for lunch, his hands toying with the hem of your shirt in a way that let you know if you didn't get food and into a private area he would be groping your tits in from of the entire cafe

Y'all have fucked in the back of his car after hotboxing more times than you can count

Bent over the console while his thick cock reaches deep enough to hit your cervix just like the first time he fucked you, all that you can focus on is the music blaring from the speakers (covering your screams, cause as Bakugou proudly likes to remind you, you always scream like a slut when I get my dick in you) and the dick in your guts.

He also is the first one to refer to himself as your boyfriend during a group session, all the other boys soon felt comfortable enough to follow suit when your only reaction with a shy, sweet smile

It made them all hard

Queue gangbang pt. II

#group chat #gc au #shinsou x reader #dabi x reader #shoto x reader #bakugou x reader #tw: dubcon #tw: duboius consent #tw: dark content #tw: kink

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floralseokjin · 3 years

Text

final sleigh drabble #2

❛ it’s Christmas day night...❜

original oneshot here // drabble index here

kim seokjin x reader smut 4,179 words

It was Christmas Day night. You’d spent most of yesterday and today at Ana’s parents’ house. It was different to how your own family celebrated the occasion but lovely, nonetheless. Her family always made you feel welcome, no matter the instance, and you were really grateful that they’d let you spend Christmas with them, like you’d already said, because your parents were spending the holiday season abroad.

Now, just gone eight, you and Ana were getting out of an Uber outside a familiar house. Seokjin and Yoongi’s. You hadn’t seen your co-worker, since the weekend. The weekend of nonstop sex. You’d only parted because he had a train to catch, promising his mom he’d visit for a few of days before Christmas Eve. The sex had been so good it had taken him a while to remember said plans actually, and when he had, he’d unbelievably tried getting out of them just so he could stay and fuck you even more.

“You want to ditch your mom to continue getting your dick wet?” You asked him with severe judgment, both of you naked in your bed. It was Sunday morning. Yes, that was correct. He’d stayed over practically 48 hours nailing you over and over again. And then some.

“Don’t say it like that,” he whined, feeling instantly guilty. “I just don’t want to leave you. I’m having too much fun.”

“We can still have fun when you get back.” You murmured suggestively, running a hand down his chest. You were not ready to give this all up quite yet…

With a raised eyebrow, he seemed intrigued. “Even more fun than right now?”

“We can try.”

You hadn’t known if it was possible, the weekend had been very fun to say the least, but who knew. You’d definitely give it your all...

You’d spent the last few days messaging each other sporadically, but there hadn’t been too much conversation. You mean, you’d never talked a lot before the sex, so why would you start after it? But seeing his face right now, as he opened the door, you practically beamed.

“Merry Christmas, ladies,” he grinned, outstretching his arm to gesture you both to step inside.

Admittedly, you weren’t expecting him to invite you over tonight. He’d been back since Friday but you hadn’t made plans to meet again yet so when he’d text you this afternoon, asking if you and Ana would like to come hang out with Yoongi and him, you’d been surprised. Excited, yet surprised, but obviously you’d played it cool.

Ana had been a little reluctant. She had slept with Yoongi a couple of weeks ago after all – and hadn’t seen him since. But, obviously Seokjin had run this idea by him? They’d both decided it together, right? So it was fine. Plus, she needed to support her best friend. If she wanted you to get boned again, she needed to come! You couldn’t turn up on your own. Not that she needed much convincing after the initial unwilling... Secretly you thought she was hoping for a round two with Seokjin’s best friend... Who knew, maybe he was too...

Ana stepped in first and as you followed Seokjin pulled out a small piece of mistletoe from behind his back. He held it up between you both, taking you by surprise. A good surprise though. “Oh,” you uttered, wasting no time in reacquainting your mouths.

“He’s been planning this all day.” It was Yoongi’s voice, coming from somewhere ahead of you, but you both ignored him, kissing just a little longer.

Ana scoffed. “Surely no planning was needed. It’s holding up some mistletoe.”

“Mmm. I missed you,” Seokjin hummed, breaking away to snake an arm around your middle.

“I missed you too,” you grinned, aware Seokjin was dialling up the amount of yuck to piss your two friends off.

“Jesus, you guys.” Yoongi sounded like he was about to be sick. “I preferred it when she hated you.”

Seokjin turned to the other guy, sounding vaguely annoyed. “She never hated me. It was a misunderstanding.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, man,” Yoongi chuckled. “Ana, let’s leave them to it. I’ll get you a drink.”

You watched as they walked off together, towards the kitchen. Seokjin was the first to turn back to you, an eyebrow raised. “How much do you wanna bet they end up hooking up again?”

You were both on the same wavelength. It was obvious something was going to happen. “She hogged the entire bathroom getting ready.”

“Have fun, you guys,” Seokjin sang as Yoongi and Ana made a less that inconspicuous exit from the living room. It was three hours later. They’d lasted well, but obviously the need to get in on again had won.

Seokjin turned to you immediately, sat next to you on the sofa and gave you a wolfish grin. “Finally, we’re alone.”

You were no sooner in his lap, mouth glued to his. Moving your ass a little as you broke apart for a much needed breath, you felt the familiar impression of his erection. “You’re hard already?” You raised a judgmental eyebrow.

“Why do you sound so shocked?” He questioned indignantly. “My dick has missed you insanely.”

“Just your dick?”

It was a playful remark, you didn’t mean anything by it, but Seokjin lowered his gaze, giving you a small chuckle. Instead of answering he kissed you again, his tongue pushing its way inside your mouth as his hands gripped your ass and rubbed you against his groin. Instant pleasure zapped up your body and it wasn’t long before you were grinding on your own accord, fists clutching his white t-shirt, which you had to admit, outlined his chest perfectly – You’d been trying not to stare all night.

“Do you want to go upstairs too?” He panted against your neck, teeth nipping the flesh sharply and you bit back a moan. He was already so tuned into what you liked. “I really need to fuck you.” Pulling back to get your answer he saw the look on your face. “What’s that face for?”

“It’s turning into a sex party,” you moaned. You couldn’t all be having sex upstairs, it seemed... You couldn’t think of the word.

“An orgy?” Seokjin wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“Behave.” You needed more people to turn it into an orgy.

Seokjin’s mouth was back on your neck, kissing down your throat, to your collarbones and he sunk his teeth into the thin skin gently, causing your breath to hitch. “Well, do you wanna fuck down here?”

His dick was so hard underneath you, you rubbed against it some more, despite your objections. “No! What if one of them catches us?”

“Don’t be stupid. Yoongi is definitely balls deep by now.”

You whacked his back and he yelped in surprise. “That’s my best friend you’re talking about.”

“I didn’t say who or what he was balls deep in.” His reply didn’t impress you and so he grumbled. “I wish I was balls deep in you right now... Don’t give me that look, it turns me on when you’re pissy.”

Unable to stop your grin, you leaned in. “You must be constantly turned on at work then.” Pressing your lips into his, you bit down on his bottom lip. His hiss soon turned into a moan – and then a whine.

“Let’s take this upstairs. There’s a bathroom between our bedrooms. It won’t be like our headboards are hitting the wall in rhythm.”

“Fine.” You couldn’t hold out much longer anyway, and you both made your way upstairs, yelping loudly when Seokjin slapped your ass. You glare didn’t do much to discourage him, laughing loudly as he wrapped his arms around your middle and directed you to the door to his bedroom.

“At least they’re being considerate and playing music,” he said, the music loud enough to block any other noise going on inside Yoongi’s bedroom... Thank God.

“I feel like I’m back at college,” you whined as you stepped inside Seokjin’s room.

“Huh? Did you and Ana make a habit of hooking up at the same time? Hot.”

You pushed his arm. “No.” Chuckling, he made his way to the bed, sitting on the end, but you were too preoccupied with checking out his room. It was a lot larger than you imagined, walls cream, some covered in artwork. His computer was the main attraction, multiple screens, an unnecessarily large gaming chair and some other things you weren’t familiar with, mainly character figurines. His bed cover was a grey check pattern, a throw draped over the end with a couple of cushions against the headboard. Very clean.

“Your room’s cute,” you commented.

“Cute?”

“Yeah.” Turning to look at him you smiled playfully. “So, I guess this is where you jerk your dick to fantasies of me.”

He scoffed. “I don’t need to fantasise anymore. I have memories stored away in the wank bank.” Tapping his temple with his index finger he looked more than impressed with himself.

“Gross!” You cried.

“Come here,” he groaned, fed up with stalling, and he leaned over and grabbed you, causing you to squeal. “Or are you just planning on being a cocktease the whole night?” The sound wasn’t like you – but Seokjin had become good at making you act in ways you weren’t used to so far...

Which is why you found yourself on your knees for him, sucking his dick, his jeans and underwear around his ankles. “Your mouth is fucking magic,” he grunted, head falling back, his perfect, thick neck on show as you glanced up. You felt the urge to take him deeper, pushing him closer and closer to the back of your throat, ignoring any noises of reluctance it made.

“Fuck.” Seokjin choked, his fingers running through your hair to collect it in his fists. “That’s it. Take it all.” He pushed his hips up, stuffing your mouth for a few gloriously unbearable seconds before easing up. You lifted off, half of his dick still in your mouth as you caught your breath. He looked down at you with half-lidded eyes that seemed to eat you up. “Do you like choking on my cock?”

Nope. He was not doing this. It was infuriating what his words did to you, and you immediately swallowed him again, ignoring the way your underwear stuck to your damp skin. He was going to have a field day when he felt you...

Gasping for air not soon after, you had no choice but to pull off him entirely, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. You were drenched in spit, so was his cock. You watched him kick off his clothing, naked from the waist down and you made moves to follow, reaching for your shirt and pulling it over your head.

“Let me see those tits. I’ve missed them.” He murmured, and you complied, unhooking your bra to reveal yourself to him. His eyes instantly glazed over. Confidently, you cupped the soft flesh in your palms, massaging yourself, putting on a show, and as your thumbs brushed the hardened peaks that were your nipples he practically growled. “Oh, fuck. You want to end me.”

Laughing, you stood up, pushing your skirt off your hips, leaving you in just your tights and panties. He followed with his t-shirt, now fully naked. You’d never get enough of his body. “Come up here,” he whined. “Let me taste them.”

Sat in his lap, you let him grope you, his mouth making out with your chest like it could kiss back. The sensation was so intense you quickly became weak at the knees and you clung to his neck, grinding against his thighs like nobody’s business. Unable to take it any longer, his hands slipped behind you, into your underwear, and he felt the silky fabric with a groan. Soon enough he was wrestling with your pantyhose again.

“These fucking things. What the fuck. You’re doing it on purpose now.”

“Am not,” you insisted. (Maybe you were). “I need to keep my legs warm.” With a furious tug you heard a rip and looking down you saw his damage. “Seokjin! You laddered them!”

“Ugh. Just get them fucking off already, I need to feel you.”

Asshole, but wet and desperate you quickly pulled then off, giving Seokjin a great view of your ass in the process. The underwear you had on had a cut-out at the top of your ass, revealing a “cleavage” of sorts. He seemed to appreciate the sight very much, giving you a playful smack and now you were very confused. Was he an ass man like you’d originally thought, or a tits guy? He was probably both. Greedy.

You slipped the panties off too, settling back down in Seokjin’s lap, who instantly started running his fingers over your heat. You pulsed against him, desperate for some stimulation.

“I swear to God you get wet so easily.”

Says the guy who’d grown hard from a kiss? Okay... “Are you complaining?”

He shook his head. “Not at all. It’s stroking my ego.”

“Your massive ego.”

“Behave, or I won’t fuck you with my massive dick.” Okay, now he was just bragging. His smirk was annoying you. He looked way too sexy.

You were expecting him to finger you for a bit, make sure you were stretched out enough for him, but all he did was dip his fingertips into your entrance, content with what he’d felt and then he was shuffling out from under your body to grab a condom from his bedside drawer.

“God. I want to fuck you so much,” he muttered a few moments later, sliding the latex over his length as you securely sat on top of him again. You kissed him sloppily, letting him angle the head of his cock against your entrance. Impatiently, you pushed down, surprising yourself – and him – when you took him whole.

You sat there, both breathing heavily as you started to adjust to him, walls clamping down like no tomorrow, which must have been torture for Seokjin, if his expression was anything to go by.

“Shit. You got tighter,” he panted, reaching for your mouth again, trying to calm himself with kisses. You attempted to do the same, beginning to slowly grind back and forth, getting used to the full feeling. It wasn’t painful, just a little uncomfortable, but you were no longer scared of his monster cock. You’d had a fair few goes last weekend and you were now a near enough pro, so without further ado, you started moving for real. Up, until he was almost out of you and then down, slamming into him. You just about knocked the air out of Seokjin’s lungs, but he soon steeled himself, grabbing the tops of your thighs to keep you safe as you started bouncing up and down, riding his dick like it was the easiest thing in the world. In this moment, it was.

Seokjin started groaning pretty quickly, his jaw clenched as he watched your every movement, his chest and neck patched with red. You clung to his shoulders, anchoring yourself to him as you flung yourself back.

“Shit. Y/N!” He panicked, hands coming out to hold your lower back, afraid you were going to fall backwards off the bed. You were still sat on the edge after all, but of course he was strong enough to hold you tight, letting you lean back as far as possible to fuck yourself along his cock, the squelchy, sticky noise music to his ears.

“Mmm. I missed this cunt so much,” he moaned.

You wanted to tell him he was being a big baby, it had only been a few days but his vulgar words were having the desired effect on you yet again. You were like putty in his hands, especially when he started thrusting into you, meeting your movements with a thud. “I want you to cum on my dick.”

Fuck. You were so close, his words only helping, but by now you were getting tired; out of breath and sweaty. “Seokjin—!” You moaned, voice breaking at the second syllable, and you leaned forward, collapsing into his chest.

“Take it easy,” he murmured, hands dragging up your sweaty back. “Want me to take over?”

You grinned drunkenly. “No way, I’m enjoying myself too much.”

Seokjin chuckled, pressing his mouth into yours. “Make yourself cum.” He whispered against you, thrusting into you still as he grabbed your ass, digging his fingers into the flesh. “You can do it, Y/N. Grind on me like you mean it. Grind all over me.”

You listened, rutting into each one of his thrusts, holding on for dear life as your sensitive clit rubbed against his groin. You were both so sweaty and hot, your fingers sliding down his back, unable to grip on until you dug your nails into the skin. He hissed, thrusting into you harder. It seemed like Seokjin liked a little pain, too...

“Baby, go a little faster,” he panted, kissing your neck, and you sped up, grinding into him messily, chasing your high like something possessed. You were so turned on, so sensitive, it only took a couple more minutes, a strangled cry leaving you as you tensed in his arms, your orgasm rocketing up your body. “Ngh, fuck. Fuck.”

Seokjin stopped his thrusts, letting you gradually come down, and soon enough your body relaxed, almost turning into goo as the pleasure warmed its way all throughout you. You lifted your head up, staring Seokjin straight in the eyes, both of you panting like crazy, and without a word he lifted you, flipping you over, your back to his mattress before he crawled over you. He wasn’t done yet – and neither were you.

As he pushed inside you again, his hand found its way around your throat and he looked down at you carefully. “Is this okay?”

You nodded, voice hoarse as you replied. “Yeah.”

It wasn’t the first time he’d asked or done this – last weekend had been a lot, you still weren’t over it, and right now you were still so horny and desperate for him. You also really liked the feeling of his grip around your neck as he fucked you.

“Fuck,” you breathed, feeling him start to thrust harder, faster, his palm tightening around your neck a little. You folded your legs at the knees and widened them, wanting him as deep as possible.

“God, you’re so fucking hot,” he grunted, kissing your mouth in a frenzy, all tongue and teeth. His whole body was pressed into yours, pushing you into the mattress, his pelvis beginning to rub against your mound. You were still a little sensitive from your first orgasm, but you could already feel yourself a little needy for another. If he kept this up he’d have you coming again, and he knew by the way you started to meet each one of his thrusts, moans starting to slip from your throat – louder and louder. You hoped Yoongi still had his music on...

“S-seokjin,” you stammered, hands sprawled across his back as you felt that familiar sensation again. “I’m going to–ngh–”

He moaned in reply, pushing into your harder, using his pelvis to get you off, and you held your breath, willing your orgasm to come. Your walls clenched around him, making it harder and harder for him to drag his cock inside of you, but he fought it, continuing with gritted teeth until he heard you cry out, your body stiffening under his.

It wasn’t as strong as your last orgasm, but seemed to knock you for six, heady dizzy as you felt Seokjin kiss down your chest, slipping out of you carefully. His tongue circled one of your nipples, his hand cupping the other breast as he groaned softly. His erection bobbed against your inner thigh.

“Coming on my cock twice. You’re amazing.” He awed, lifting his head up to smile at you. He sounded drunk. You felt drunk.

“Well, I do try.” You joked, voice soft.

He chuckled, and then his voice grew serious, eyes large and black, still very much turned on. “Tell me what you want, Y/N.”

It was pretty obvious, his dick burning a hole against your leg. “Your cum.”

His eyes widened, obviously not expecting you to be so upfront, and you took great pleasure in that.

“Where?” He whispered. He didn’t bother to wait for your reply. “Mouth? Can I come in your mouth,” he asked.

Your stomach dipped with urgent need, and you nodded your head rapidly. “Yeah.”

He sat up instantly, moving to kneel over your face. He tugged the condom off, jerking himself off a couple of times before his eyes met yours. “Tongue out.” You obeyed, keeping your eyes open as the weight of his cock pressed against your tongue. “Good girl.”

Okay, that was new. He hadn’t called you that last week, and instantly you felt your gut squeeze. You sucked the tip of his cock, eager now for him to cum in your mouth. As you did so, he started jerking himself off, eyes fluttering closed as his head lolled back, Adam’s apple bobbing slowly. His movements grew quicker, matching his breathing and then he hissed, body tensing up.

“Fuckkk.” A couple of drops of cum landed against your tongue and you swallowed them, ready for more. You sucked him for all he was worth, your gaze never leaving his face, and even once he was done, you kept on lapping him with your tongue, digging the tip across the slit.

He shuddered, making a strained noise and he pulled back, his cock falling out of your mouth. “Shit. I’m sensitive,” he laughed, collapsing next to you. You were both out of breath and sweaty, but wholeheartedly satisfied.

“That’s gotta be the best yet?” You asked, grinning from ear to ear.

“I think you may be right.” He agreed, pushing his hair out of his eyes, exposing his forehead. You wanted to reach over and kiss him, but you stopped yourself. “You were riding dick like a pornstar.”

“Shut up,” you whined, pushing his shoulder. How embarrassing.

Laughing at your reaction, he sat up, propping himself up with his elbow. “If you want the bathroom I have one over there.”

You followed his thumb to a door on the right of his room. “An en suite? Very fancy.”

Seokjin shrugged. “Yoongi has the main bathroom, so.” You didn’t move, tired more than anything, peeing could probably wait. Seokjin’s brows furrowed together. “Are you okay though?”

“Of course,” you laughed. “I feel fricking amazing. I’ll be sad once this ends.”

As soon as you said the words you felt funny. Seokjin looked surprised, voice low with... what was it, concern? “Who says it has to end? Do you want it to?”

“...No,” you answered after a pause.

Truthfully you didn’t want it to end just yet, you were enjoying yourself, you were just unsure of what was happening between the two of you... You’d both confessed something back at the office last week but you were still uncertain what exactly it was. What had you been expecting? To fuck once and then that would be it? You liked having sex with Seokjin, it was fun, and you liked his company (most of the time). You liked him. He liked you. Maybe you didn’t need to put an expiry date on this thing. It was fine to see where it went. You didn’t need to turn it into a big deal. You didn’t need an outright answer for everything. It was fine to just live in the moment.

“I don’t either,” Seokjin smiled, looking mildly relieved by your answer.

“I just... when work starts back we won’t have much time to meet up like this.”

“I’ll make time, trust me.” He kissed you then, hovering over you, lips warm and soft, a far cry from earlier, and the thought made you giggle.

“What?” He asked bemused.

“You know, you turn pretty demanding when you get horny.”

He raised an eyebrow. “How so?”

“Like, bossy and all, I don’t know, domineering.” You shrugged, feeling a little awkward. “It’s hot.”

He smiled, chuckling softly as he kissed you again, a hand cupping your face. “It’s not too much?” He murmured.

He didn’t sound surprised by your revelation so something told you he was aware of how he acted. Which made it even hotter, to be honest.

“I like it.” You told him, biting down on your bottom lip.

Eyes darkening, he hummed, his gaze running down your body. “So how about I tell you to spread those gorgeous legs so I can eat dessert?”

You repressed the urge to laugh out loud. Dessert?! He was such an idiot. “Right now?”

“Yes. Right now.” Then he paused, rubbing his nose against yours, his tone softening. “Yeah?”

With a massive grin, you spread your legs. “Be my guest.”

A third orgasm? You weren’t going to turn that down.

Written 2020 - 2021. Please refrain from posting my work elsewhere. No translations allowed. © floralseokjin 2021

#seokjin smut #bts smut #seokjin fanfic #bts fanfic #floralseokjin:writings #fic:final sleigh #final sleigh:drabbles

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witcher-and-his-bard-archive · 3 years

Text

Good as Gold pt.23

[part twenty-two] | [part twenty-four] [prostitute!jaskier masterpost]

thanks for all your patience and support guys, this chapter was a menace.

As soon as the snow starts to melt, Geralt itches to be on his way. The others must notice it, but the only one who brings it up is Lambert. He's constantly smirking and asking what's so important back in the real world, despite knowing exactly why Geralt is so eager to leave.

He holds out until it's warm enough to sleep outdoors, but he's still the first to leave and it doesn't go unnoticed by the others. Geralt doesn't mind much because Lambert is, again, the only one who speaks of it and Aiden smacks him on the arm when he does. Geralt says his goodbyes to his family and heads out onto the Path once more.

As soon as he reaches the end of the valley, Geralt makes for Hagge.

He makes good time, travelling through the night whenever he's able, and he gets to the city much sooner than expected. It's early evening when he arrives, still early enough that he doesn't feel bad about visiting Jaskier. A little voice in the back of his head reminds him Jaskier is usually happy to see him whenever he visits, but he's still relieved that it's not too late. He's certainly not patient enough to wait until morning.

His stomach churns and his skin prickles with anticipation and the only thing that keeps him from bursting apart completely is the knowledge that he has to apologize to Jaskier. Even if he doesn't share Geralt's feelings, Jaskier deserves better than his behaviour before he left for the winter.

He's nervous for the first time as he steps into the brothel.

immediately, he's approached by Vivienne, hands on her hips and the scent of fury surrounding her. He can't even blame her; Jaskier told him he was important to him, Geralt knew that and still left for almost five months without saying anything. Five months when the longest it's been in over a year was weeks and then Geralt just... disappeared.

"Oh no," Vivienne laughs humourlessly, "you're not welcome here."

"I just want to talk to him. Briefly." It's not all he wants, but it's the least Jaskier deserves.

"You're not seeing him ever again if I have anything to do with it." she stares him down, hands firmly planted on her hips, and it's easy to see why she and Jaskier get along so well. He tries to apologize, but he's interrupted as the madame comes over, clearing her throat pointedly.

She's never been happy to see him and she takes delight in kicking him out now. The worst part is, he can't even blame her. If someone had treated his brothers the way he did Jaskier, Geralt would be furious with them.

He walks aimlessly through town because it's too early to turn in for the night, but he doesn't want to leave, either. Roach is stabled and fed and she'll be fine for the night now, so he has a lot of time to think about what he wants to do. And what he should have done already, all the things he should have said. He's not about to give up just because they won't let him into the brothel, but he does wish things had been different, starting with the way he left.

Firstly, he wishes he'd told Jaskier he was leaving, that he wintered in the north, anything. It seems so easy with time and distance between now and then.

He wonders if Jaskier thought about him.

As he considers and regrets, Geralt wanders, and it doesn't take him long to wind up at the field Jaskier took him to before. It's not an intentional choice, but he's not disappointed either. The sun is beginning to set and Geralt has spent enough time in Hagge to know the locals don't take kindly to people out and about after sundown, so he climbs the fence and plops himself down in the middle of the field to watch the sunset. He'll still have to return to the inn later, but for now, he can relax in peace.

He lays his cloak out on the grass and lies down with his arms folded behind his head and he considers how to fix this. The easiest option would be to go to Jaskier's house, but he's not sure Jaskier would even want to see him right now and he understands that. So he sits and contemplates and just before the sun slips behind the mountains, he hears footsteps coming toward him in the grass.

Geralt looks up with a sigh, expecting someone coming to shoo him away, but as he turns his head, he catches a whiff of perfume - Jaskier’s perfume - and his heart stops. The scent is suddenly overwhelming and he wrinkles his nose against it as Jaskier approaches. At first, the intensity of the scent was confusing, but when Jaskier gets closer, Geralt realizes the perfume is a mask against his own scent. But Geralt can still pick it up, even smothered in lavender.

Jaskier drops down on the grass a couple of feet away and Geralt’s fingers twitch against his stomach, eager to reach out to him, but Jaskier is justly angry and he holds himself back.

"So," Jaskier says slow, short, "you were just going to stop by to what? say hello and fuck off again? Pretend like nothing happened?" Geralt winches at the sharpness of the words, but he knows it's what he deserves. He doesn't know how to respond, so he keeps quiet. Evidently, it's not the right choice because Jaskier lets out a heavy sigh. "Right," he says, "guess I'll be doing all the talking then."

"You left me here," Jaskier says, "and I know you've said again and again that it's too dangerous or whatever, but you didn't even-" he pulls in a breath and Geralt clenches his hand to keep from reaching out to him. As much as he wants to comfort him, he's sure it wouldn't be appreciated. "Fuck, Geralt, I thought you were dead. You couldn't have even mentioned the last time that you wouldn't be back?"

"I'm sorry," Geralt whispers. It's not enough, not nearly, but he doesn't know what else to say.

"Yeah. I just-" Jaskier pulls his knees up to his chest and Geralt hates himself for doing this to him. The scent of anger dissipates, and Jaskier's pulse quickens as he speaks, the mingling scents of fear and anguish rolling off of him. Geralt grits his teeth against it. He owes Jaskier a chance to speak - among other things. "I thought that I- I thought that this-'' he inhales sharply and Geralt feels very small. Jaskier has a way with words unlike anyone he's ever met, so for him to not be able to finish a sentence is... worrying. "If it wasn't worth coming back, If I wasn't- Geralt, what the fuck?"

"You are," Geralt says quickly, "I didn't intend to hurt you. I don't deserve you."

"For fuck's sake, Geralt," Jaskier snaps. He shifts and turns his body to face him and for the first time, Geralt brings himself to look at him properly. Jaskier's only in his robe and smallclothes, presumably having left the brothel in a rush. And he looks sullen. His skin is pale, his eyes dull and yet too-shiny - the cause of which Geralt hates to even acknowledge. "I thought you knew that I want you? That this is more than just a godsdamn transaction for me. So what if you don't think you deserve me? You had me anyway."

Had. Geralt winces at the word. He sits in silent contemplation for a moment before Jaskier lets out a shaky breath.

"Geralt, the least I deserve is a godsdamn explanation. I didn't know where you were, if you'd been hurt, or-"

"You're right," he breathes and Jaskier seems a little taken aback at that. His eyes go wide, but he remains quiet, expectant. Geralt sits up and shifts over a little, making space on his cloak for Jaskier. Surprisingly, Jaskier gets up and comes over to join him.

"I'm sorry," Geralt whispers. He wants to touch, to feel, to hold Jaskier and promise him everything will be okay from now on, that he'll never hurt him again - but he doesn't think he's allowed. "We- my brothers and I winter up at Kaer Morhen, a keep in the mountains northeast of Kaedwen. It's where I was trained, where I grew up. I- I should have told you."

"Why didn't you?" to his credit, Jaskier doesn't sound angry any longer, only disappointed or maybe sad.

"I was afraid." Geralt hesitates, hating the way the words feel on his tongue, but he doesn't know what to follow them up with. "I didn't think you'd really want me coming back."

Jaskier sighs softly and shifts to settle on his side next to Geralt. "You're an idiot," he says softly, his tone just edging on fond. Geralt's heart soars, but he tries not to get his hopes up.

"I know."

"And a dick."

Geralt huffs a laugh and when he turns, Jaskier is looking up at him, a faint smile on his face. "And a dick," Geralt agrees. Jaskier's eyes drop to the space between them and he picks at the hem of his robe.

"I was afraid you were dead," he whispers, "I didn't know what to do. I had no one to ask, no one to send word, to make sure you were okay-"

"I know," Geralt says and he can't help but lean forward, cupping Jaskier's face in his hand.

He runs his thumb softly over his cheekbone, relishing the softness of Jaskier's skin under his palm. He's missed him desperately and now he aches to think he ever could have jeopardized this.

"Whatever it takes, I'll make it up to you if you'll let me."

"They won't be happy to see you back at the brothel," Jaskier mumbles, "but I'm sure I can sway them. Viv’s overprotective and she’ll get the others on her side, but she'll get over it. And the madame will let you in if I ask her to-"

"I don't care about them," Geralt interrupts, "just you. If you'll have me."

"Geralt," Jaskier breathes, low and exasperated, "of course I'll have you. You did a stupid, thoughtless thing and scared me half to death when you didn't show up for months but that doesn't stop me from caring about you. I was only worried because I do care about you."

Geralt shuts his eyes against the ache in his chest, wishing there was some way to make everything better. "I'm sorry," he whispers, brushing his thumb over Jaskier's cheek. "I never wanted you to suffer."

"I know, love." Jaskier leans up, pressing a soft kiss to Geralt's forehead before settling down against him. "Let's not talk about it any longer, alright?"

"Jask-"

"I'm glad you're back, Geralt and I'm happy to see you again. And I don't have the energy to think about the rest of it any longer. Why don't you tell me about your winter?"

"Okay," he says slowly, considering his words carefully. "But it's just the four of us most of the time. There's not much to tell." Not, at least, that he would be willing to share just yet.

"Sounds lonely."

"It's not that bad. No lonelier than the Path."

"Geralt," Jaskier huffs, "I'm sure you can find something interesting to say. You were gone for five months." There's a humour to his voice, but the wariness hasn't subsided and Geralt hates it. He'd do anything not to hear it again, but he doesn't know what else he can say.

"I..." he shuts his eyes and lets his fingers press into Jaskier's skin. "I thought about you while I was gone."

"Oh? Tell me?"

"I dreamt about you."

Jaskier hums and when Geralt opens his eyes, he's wearing the first genuine smile he's seen tonight. Jaskier props himself up, running a hand up Gerslt's chest, fingers slipping under the fabric of his shirt to trace along his collar bone. Geralt drops his head back and relaxes into the touch, relishing the soft brush of Jaskier's skin against his own. He's missed this, missed him, more than he should.

It's not until Jaskier's leaning into him, nosing against his neck, that Geralt comes back to himself. He gently curls a hand around Jaskier's wrist, lifting it off of him.

"I can't," he says, "I don't have the coin."

Jaskier doesn't hesitate, even for a second. "I don't care," he breathes and when Geralt meets his eyes, there's nothing but soft sincerity and something that looks like hope. "Geralt, all winter all I wanted was just for you to come back. Don't think I'm going to let anything stop me from being with you now."

Jaskier shifts and Geralt can't take his eyes off him. He knows he doesn't deserve any of this, but he wants it and he wants Jaskier to know that. Without thinking, he reaches out, curling his hand around the back of Jaskier's neck and tangling his fingers in his hair. Smiling softly, Jaskier shuts his eyes and leans into the touch.

Geralt draws him close, pressing their foreheads together and Jaskier hums softly. The overwhelming scent of perfume has partially worn off and Geralt can better detect Jaskier's natural scent beneath it. He focuses on it, breathing it in as Jaskier's hand slides up his chest. He can feel his own heart thudding heavily and Jaskier's is just as frantic and Geralt tips his head, lightly brushing his mouth against Jaskier's.

He stops breathing entirely but it hardly matters because as soon as Jaskier's realized it, he’s pushing him over onto his back and kissing him hard. Jaskier shifts so he's above him and Geralt's free arm slips around his waist, pressing him against him and Geralt's entire world narrows to Jaskiers lips on his own, just the soft press of his mouth and the little moan that escapes him as Geralt deepens the kiss.

His lips are soft and taste of wine and something sweet and Geralt commits the taste to memory. He tries to focus on everything, but it's too much all at once. Jaskier shifts to straddle his hips, reading his elbows on the grass and pushing his fingers through Geralt's hair. He grips tightly like he's afraid Geralt might pull away, but Geralt is just as unwilling to let go.

Geralt raises one knee, sliding one arm around his lower back as his other presses upward, fingers tangling in Jaskier's hair. I love you, his body screams, but his mind isn't cooperating and his mouth is otherwise occupied.

Jaskier only breaks away to breathe, holding himself up on one hand as the other continues running through Geralt's hair. He's flushed a deep red that carries on all the way down his chest and he's entirely breathless, but to Geralt, he has never looked more beautiful than he does now.

He's overwhelmed by Jaskier's scent, the thick spicy sweet of his growing arousal but there's something else there, too. It's a softer scent, sweet and flowery and it’s somewhat familiar, but Geralt can’t place it.

He lays panting for only a moment as the realization of what he’s done settles over him and as Jaskier's lips curve into a smile, Geralt drags him back down. There's a soft groan of surprise, but Geralt nips at his bottom lip and Jaskier goes limp against him, the scent of lust erupting like a cloud.

"Oh," he breathes, muffled against Geralt's mouth, "oh, Geralt." His hips give a little twitch Geralt slips his hand lower, coping Jaskier's ass and encouraging the gentle roll.

Any misgivings he may have had about fucking Jaskier outside at the edge of the forest are silenced with a quick flick of Jaskier's tongue against his own. He feels it all the way down to his toes and his responding whine only encourages Jaskier further.

When he shifts forward into Geralt's touch, Geralt can feel the way Jaskier swells against him, pressing his hips down against Geralt's. He gets a knee between his thighs, steadying himself as Geralt's hands pull back to cup his face.

Geralt kisses him again, quick and hot, but even as Jaskier rocks against him, it turns slow and heady. His eyes drop shut as Jaskier's weight settles against him, his fingers running lightly over his skin before tangling in his hair once more.

They find a steady rhythm and Geralt's body sings with lust and relief and love, his skin tingling with every minor touch. And Jaskier barely takes his hands off him for a second. He's aware of his own arousal - and of Jaskier's - but it's almost a background thought to the warmth of Jaskier's mouth on his own, the absolute thrill of it after what feels like centuries of deprivation.

When Jaskier moves, he has to stretch to keep from breaking the kiss, lifting himself off of Geralt and settling between his legs instead. He keeps one arm on the ground as the other slides down Geralt's chest, eventually reaching the hem of his shirt and slipping beneath it. Jaskier's hands are warm and he maps out Geralt's body like it's the first time, fingertips sliding into the valleys of his chest.

Jaskier hums against him and his fingers slip downward, fiddling with the buttons on Geralt's trousers. It's only playful, but when Jaskier's knees nudge under his thighs, he presses up close and Geralt can feel the thick line of his cock pressing into him. All at once, he's overcome by the need to have him closer and he wraps his legs around his waist and hauls him closer.

Jaskier is jostled in the process and he laughs lightly as he presses his face into Geralt's neck. Soft kisses are pressed into his skin and Geralt squirms, far more affected by it than he reasonably should be.

But that's Jaskier, isn't it? That's why he's here right now instead of on the Path where he was supposed to be. Jaskier is different. He takes things and flips them on their head without a second thought. Jaskier cares for him when no one else will look at him. Jaskier loves him.

The thought nearly breaks him and Geralt tugs him back up, kissing him deeply. When he pulls back, he's breathless and Jaskier is staring back at him with the softest, most beautiful smile Geralt has ever seen.

"I want you," he breathes and Jaskier's grin spreads as he leans up.

"Here?" he asks, "Geralt if I didn't know better, I'd say you were becoming a romantic, wanting to make love in a field under the stars." Yeah, he thinks, that's exactly what he wants, but he doesn't say it.

"Jask," he prompts and Jaskier smiles down at him, dipping to kiss the tip of his nose.

"Of course, my darling, anything for you."

He hovers barely an inch above Geralt's lips and knowing he's allowed to kiss him, the urge is too strong to resist. Jaskier laughs as he's tugged down again, but he quickly regains control, pushing Geralt's arms above his head. He draws back just enough to speak, the words a soft echo on Geralt's lips.

"Let's get this off, hm?" He curls his fingers around the hem, dragging his knuckles over Geralt's skin as he lifts the shirt up and over his head. It's tossed to the side, forgotten, and Jaskier returns to Geralt's neck. "I did miss you, you know," he breathes, lips dragging hot and wet against Geralt's skin, "when you were gone."

"I'm sorry," Geralt breathes, lifting his hands to tangle in Jaskier's hair. "I didn't want to leave you." Jaskier's only gotten as far as his collarbone when he stops and looks up at him.

"Then stay, next time," Jaskier hums, "if you need somewhere to stay, you can stay with me." Jaskier sits up pushing his knees under Geralt's thighs and he runs his fingers down Geralt's chest to the hem of his trousers. He gets them undone swiftly, tugging them open and folding the fabric back on itself to give himself room to touch.

Jaskier slips his hands down, pressing his thumbs into the vee of Geralt's hips and Geralt groans. He's been trying not to let Jaskier's touch affect him, but the lower he goes, the harder it is to keep from getting hard. After everything they've been through together, it shouldn't matter but this feels important somehow and Geralt isn't sure this is totally appropriate.

Not, at least, until Jaskier's fingers slip inside his trousers. Geralt gives in as soon as Jaskier's fingers brush his cock, groaning as they slip around him and tug gently. He drops his head back, looking up and as soon as Jaskier's eyes catch his, their mouths crash together again. Geralt grasps at him, pulling him closer as Jaskier strokes him.

The angle is awkward, but Jaskier shifts to make it easier for them both and when he's kissing him, Geralt can hardly think of anything else. He keeps his hands tangled in Jaskier's hair, keeps him close because he can't bear the thought of losing him, of even coming close again. The thought of it is too much to bear after coming so close already. Jaskier eases back, pulling from Geralt's mouth to kiss his jaw.

"Relax, my love," he breathes, humming against his skin. "I want this just as much as you do." Geralt tries to relax, but there's still the lingering fear that afterward, Jaskier will leave him here alone again.

Jaskier sits up and it's enough of a shock to bring Geralt back to his senses and he reaches for him again. Jaskier just smiles and dips to kiss his nose before shifting so he can tug Geralt's trousers down. As soon as they're off and out of the way, Jaskier pulls off his own shorts and slides back between Geralt's thighs.

He's hard already, his cock peeking through the split in his robe, and Geralt can't keep his eyes off him. Jaskier's hands smooth up his thighs and he presses closer until his cock settles in the vee of Geralt's hip. He rocks forward gently and Geralt's hips twitch up to meet him. It's been so long and he's wanted him so badly, but he doesn't want to fuck this up - not if Jaskier is willing to give him another chance.

Jaskier slips a hand into his pocket and produces a familiar corked bottle. Geralt isn't one to be presumptuous, but either Jaskier was anticipating this, or he always carries a bottle of oil around with him - he's not sure which is more likely. Geralt watches his hands as Jaskier pours a little of the oil into his palm, spreading it around with his fingers. He wraps the same hand around Geralt's cock, stroking him steadily. Geralt's head drops back against the ground with a dull thud as he groans softly as Jaskier's fingers curve around the head of his cock.

"Fuck," Jaskier breathes, "that's it darling, relax for me." The words have barely left his mouth before a slick finger presses back behind Geralt's balls, slipping between his cheeks. Geralt tenses for a moment, but as soon as Jaskier presses against him, he settles.

Jaskier's touch is warm and familiar and Geralt's legs spread involuntarily to give him space. Jaskier hums approvingly and presses further. His other hand moves to Geralt's hip, fingers slipping gently against his skin.

Under his touch, Geralt goes limp, relieved to know that for now, at least, Jaskier is still happy to be with him.

Jaskier presses into him tentatively and Geralt does his best not to tense up again. He needs this, wants this more than he ever has before and yet he's terrified of fucking it up. Jaskier's hand moves against his skin and Geralt's only half-aware of it until Jaskier is on his knees leaning over him, smiling down at him.

"You're in your head, love. Tell me what's bothering you."

"I don't want to fuck this up," he breathes, his words catching at the end as Jaskier brushes against that spot within him.

"Don't leave me again and we'll be fine." He smiles down at him and as Jaskier's lips brush against his, Geralt can't help the little smile that tugs at his lips.

"Never," he whispers. He groans as Jaskier presses deeper and Jaskier drops his head, bumping his forehead against Geralt's.

"Okay?" he breathes. Geralt nods. "You're very sensitive." He bumps his nose against Geralt's and shifts to breathe against his ear.

"Five months," Geralt mutters and Jaskier huffs a quiet laugh. He works into him, letting Geralt adjust to the intrusion before rubbing around his rim with a second.

Geralt rolls his head back, groaning at the stretch. Jaskier touches him gently, steadies him with a warm palm against his hip. Without it, Geralt feels like he might explode. He can't breathe with Jaskier's fingers inside him, can barely think straight. Somehow, over the winter, he'd forgotten how exceptionally talented Jaskier is with his hands and he's been missing this for months.

"Please," he whispers and he doesn't even know what he's asking for, but Jaskier crooks his fingers, rubbing against his prostate, and Geralt arches off the ground.

He's already pushing dangerously, embarrassingly close to the edge. Clearly, he's been more desperate than he thought. And he knows Jaskier can feel it, knows he'll do what he can to bring him off first, but tonight he wants Jaskier inside him, wants to wrap around him and never let him go. Not that he's going to argue with this, but-

"Not yet," he says, but his voice comes out rough and needy, clearly giving away his desperation.

"Oh darling, if you think you're only coming once tonight, you're mistaken," he leans down, letting his lips brush the shell of Geralt's ear. "It's been months for you and I've been stuck here with ancient farmers who can barely get it up and stable hands who come too soon and fuck right off. No darling, I think you and I are both deserving of a good fuck."

Jaskier thrusts into him again, shifting so his cock slides against Geralt's and all it takes is one well-aimed thrust before Geralt is coming. His eyes nearly roll back in his head and he bites down on his lip as he works through it, Jaskier's fingers still working slowly into him.

"Oh," he breathes, reaching up to lace his fingers through Jaskier's hair. He tugs his head up, earning him a cheeky smirk that's quickly wiped away as Geralt kisses him. Hard.

Jaskier moans into his mouth, slipping his tongue between Geralt's lips and dropping so he's pressed against his side. He doesn't let up, thrusting steadily into him even as his cock digs into Geralt's thigh. He's clearly wanting, and yet he's still giving Geralt pleasure first. Part of him wants to soak it all in, to bask in his continued affection, but he wants to give it more. He wants Jaskier to know he's repentant, to know exactly how he feels without having to stumble over the words to say it. Because words he's bad with, actions he can do.

Wrapping both arms around Jaskier's waist, he pulls him up onto him, lifting one knee to hold him in place. Jaskier chuckles softly, nipping at Geralt's bottom lip before drawing back.

"Impatient, darling?" he teases. Geralt just hums, reaching up to curl a hand around the back of his neck.

"Let me make you feel good."

"Oh, Geralt, you do." Jaskier dips, kissing down his chest until he's forced to readjust. He smiles up at him and Geralt grabs him again, hauls him down against him.

He gets a hand between them, wrapping around Jaskier's cock and stroking him gently. He's slow, steady, pressing his fingers into Jaskier's shoulder and squeezing around the head of his cock. Jaskier's breath is hot and wet where he buries his face in Geralt's neck and Geralt has fought soldiers and monsters alike, but he's never felt as powerful as he does with Jaskier in his arms, panting and moaning into his skin. Not as powerful and certainly not as wanted.

Jaskier shifts against him, bringing one hand up to tangle in Geralt's hair. He tugs lightly, apparently pleased with the guttural groan he gets in response, even if Geralt is embarrassed by his own neediness. Jaskier rolls his hips, pressing himself between Geralt's fingers with soft, muted moans. But when Geralt let's free his hand slip, cupping Jaskier's ass and encouraging the roll of his hips, Jaskier stutters to a stop. Geralt's head jerks up as Jaskier rises up off his chest, but Jaskier's expression is still soft when he looks down on him.

"Darling I appreciate that you want to make me feel good, and you do - gods, do you - but," he whispers, shifting onto all fours love him. Jaskier tips his head down, just low enough that his nose bumps Geralt's and Geralt could kiss him if he tilted his head just so. He doesn't, even when Jaskier's lips brush his own. "I want to fuck you tonight. I've been thinking about this for weeks and nothing is going to take you away from me now." He presses the softest kiss to Geralt's lips before drawing away and straightening up.

Knees press under his thighs and Jaskier lifts them, settling so Geralt's legs are draped over his own, spread wide and open for him. Even after so much time, he feels like he should be embarrassed to be seen like this, but Jaskier just makes him feel warm and safe and comfortable.

It feels like an eternity that Jaskier touches him, brushing his fingers along the insides of his thighs and slipping his fingers in and out, driving Geralt to madness. Then, just when he thinks he can't take it any longer, Jaskier relents. His cock is thicker than his fingers, smooth and hot and so fucking good after months of denial.

He presses in slow but steady, holding Geralt's hip with one hand and soothing him with the brush of his thumb against his skin. It's sweet and much-appreciated, but entirely unnecessary. Geralt is needy and wanting, desperate for Jaskier to just get on with it. His skin prickles as Jaskier sinks into him. He reaches up to him, wrapping his arms around his neck and drawing him closer.

As Jaskier settles, he shifts his hips, pressing against Geralt's prostate as he adjusts. Geralt's breath catches and there's a flash of something in Jaskier's eyes. He does it again. This time, Geralt groans loudly and when he arches off the ground, Jaskier slips an arm around the small of his back.

He lowers himself, holding Geralt close as he rolls his hips, slowly at first, but as Geralt reaches for him, grabbing at his shoulders, Jaskier picks up speed. He presses closer, kissing Geralt as he rocks into him and it's so good.

Geralt draws him close, hooking one knee over Jaskier's hip and wrapping his arms around him. Jaskier's body is warm despite the cool night air, soft under his hands, and Geralt's chest swells with an emotion he still barely recognizes in himself.

"Oh, love," Jaskier breathes. He kisses Geralt's jaw, nips at his lips. His breath is hot against Geralt's skin and it's what he focuses on to hold himself together. He feels like he's floating, so overwhelmed with emotion that he's not quite sure what to do with it. And when Jaskier whispers, "I've missed you," so soft and sweet and genuine, Geralt shatters.

He kisses him then, wrapping both legs around Jaskier's waist and pulling him against him. It doesn't matter if Jaskier can move or not, Geralt just wants him close, wants to be able to feel Jaskier's body against him, to know he's there.

They stay like that for some time, Geralt wrapped as tightly around him as he can be and Jaskier still rocking into him slowly. He's resting on his elbows now, fingers tangled in Geralt's hair as he kisses him all over. His cheeks, his jaw, his nose and, eventually, his lips. Jaskier moans as Geralt kisses back rough and desperate, the sound of which only serves to deepen his arousal.

He's already nearing the precipice again and when Jaskier pushes back up to his knees, the new position has him bumping up against that spot with every thrust. Geralt rolls his head back, hair tangling as he bares himself to Jaskier. He keeps one hand around Jaskier's neck, loathe to let him get far away and the other drops to clench around his cloak, groaning with each of Jaskier's thrust as pleasure zips up his spine.

Jaskier's fingers dig into his thighs and Geralt slumps back against the ground. Fuck, he'd forgotten how good it could be with someone you care about - not that he's been with anyone else. Jaskier slips one hand up, bracing himself on Geralt's chest with the other stays on his hip, squeezing and holding Geralt steady as he pounds into him.

He's mumbling, muffled by the way he bites at his bottom lip and drops his chin against his chest, but even through the buzzing in his head, he catches little bits of it. It's nothing out of the ordinary; just Jaskier telling him he's beautiful, that he missed him, that he's so fucking good, darling. But it hits differently tonight, knowing how close he was to losing this wonderful man and fucking up everything they've been through.

When he realizes Jaskier is close, Geralt reaches up to him, cups Jaskier's face in his hand with the last of his remaining strength. Jaskier lets out a little whine and turns into the touch, kissing the palm of his hand.

"Fuck," he groans and his hips stutter. Jaskier presses deeper, leaning over him, and their eyes meet for the briefest moment before he drops to kiss him.

It's rushed and sloppy and Geralt can feel the way Jaskier comes down from the rush as his kisses become slower, more precise. Geralt's fingers slip up through his hair and Jaskier hums as he eventually draws away. He settles against Geralt's chest, pressing his nose into his throat.

The warmth of his breath is calming and Geralt finds his eyes dropping shut. He slips an arm around Jaskier's waist, holding him a little more firmly against him. He won't let himself take this for granted again, he won't let himself do anything more to jeopardize whatever this is - even if it never goes further than this. Geralt is right on the verge of sleep when Jaskier slips away from him, chuckling lightly when Geralt groans at the loss.

"I know my love. As lovely as this is, the nights are still quite cold and the chill will set in soon." Geralt groans softly, making a half-hearted attempt to pull Jaskier back down. "Not yet, love. Come back home with me." He presses a kiss to Geralt's shoulder. "It's warm there and we can relax."

"You're not supposed to be back at the brothel?"

"I'm sure they'll get by without me for one night."

Jaskier rises up to his knees and Geralt shudders as the silk of his robe slides against his skin. His cock gives a twitch of interest and his eyes flutter shut again.

Despite his resistance, Geralt lets Jaskier coax him to his feet and he dresses quickly, picking his clothes out of the damp grass. Jaskier is already half-dressed and he watches Geralt closely as Geralt tugs his trousers up and struggles to get them laced up around his still-hard cock, the intensity of which does nothing to make Geralt's task any easier.

Once he's dressed again, albeit sloppily, Jaskier slips up close again, kissing him softly as he takes Geralt's hand. Jaskier leads him from the field through the streets, but Geralt could find his way around blind by now. He's spent more time in Hagge than any other city on the continent and he hardly needs to be given directions. But he likes the warmth of Jaskier's hand in his and he likes being able to step back and let someone else take the lead.

Jaskier is oddly quiet on the way there, but his scent and his demeanour tell Geralt that he's not upset, perhaps thoughtful. When the house rises up before them, Jaskier pauses and Gerlt halts with him. He waits as Jaskier comes around to face him, twisting the fingers of their free hands together.

"I want to make something clear," Jaskier says, meeting Geralt's eyes in a gesture that seems difficult for him. Geralt remains silent, fighting back a creeping fear that seeps into him. "I know you're a smart man, Geralt, but I also know that sometimes certain feelings stop us from thinking clearly. And after the winter, I-" he exhales slowly and looks up at him with more conviction. "This isn't about sex for me Geralt and it certainly isn't about getting paid. I- I've put aside every mark you've paid me. I haven't spent any of it in case you ever changed your mind about taking me with you."

Geralt's head swims. It's not about the sex for him, either. It hasn't been for ages if he's honest. He loves Jaskier, cares more deeply for him than he has for anyone in a long time. He wants to take him with him. But he doesn't know how to say any of this to Jaskier, so he lets his actions speak for him.

He surges forward, wrapping his arms around Jaskier's waist, and kisses the little oh of surprise from his lips. Jaskier laughs against him and winds his arms around Geralt's neck, using him as leverage to bring himself closer. He lingers for a long time before walking backward up the path and pulling Geralt with him.

They finally break apart just inside the door and Geralt's chest swells when he sees the flushed grin on Jaskier's face.

"It's not for me, either," he breathes and Jaskier seems to understand because his grin only broadens and he tugs Geralt close enough to shut the door behind him.

They stumble upstairs together, still wrapped up in each other, and the only reason Geralt lets go is because Jaskier's hands wander to his trousers and Geralt is eager to be rid of them again. He does his best to relax, but it's difficult with Jaskier's hands all over him. By the time Jaskier has him naked again, Geralt is fully hard again. He squirms as Jaskier presses up from behind, resting his chin on Geralt's shoulder.

"I hate to be the one to ruin the mood, darling, but I can't feel my toes and I'd very much like a bath right now." He kisses his shoulders and slips away. He shoves his shorts down over his hips tauntingly as he steps away and Geralt turns to watch him.

Jaskier is elegant, even when he's being a tease and he makes a show of filling the bath, bending low so that his robe slips up over his ass. It takes all of Geralt's control to keep from picking him up and taking him to bed immediately and he still finds himself drawn close before Jaskier is finished, winding his arms around his waist and bending over him. The robe has slipped from one shoulder and Geralt hums as he kisses the bare patch of skin there.

He moves one hand down, slipping beneath the hem of the robe to run up Jaskier's thigh and he gets a laugh in response.

"Okay," Jaskier grins, turning around to slide his hands up Geralt's chest, "come on then, impatient, let's get you into that tub."

Geralt doesn't need any more convincing than that and he climbs into the bath, sloshing the water as he sits down a little too quickly. Jaskier gets in after him, settling between his legs and leaning back against his chest. It's all Geralt can do not to rock up against him, especially when Jaskier leans back and kisses his neck, but he restrains himself. Instead, he slips his hands between Jaskier's thighs, running his fingers along the smooth skin there.

"I'm sorry I left you," he mumbles. "Really."

"I know," Jaskier says, "It took me a while to realize it, but when I saw you tonight... Don't leave like that again."

"I won't."

"But I suppose you'll be leaving again soon."

"Shortly, yes. I have to take care of something important for a friend. I'll be heading to Skellige."

"Oh wow, that's... far," Jaskier falters. There's a hesitancy in his voice that Geralt dislikes more than he should.

"Yeah, but I- I don't have to leave right away. If you like, I could stay? If you'd have me?" Jaskier pushes off of him and for a moment Geralt thinks he's overstepped, that he's said too much. But then, when Jaskier looks at him with big, shining eyes, he realizes that for once he might actually have done something right.

"My darling," Jaskier whispers, wrapping one hand around the back of Geralt's head. He tips forward, letting their lips brush just lightly before leaning into it and Geralt lets him despite his eagerness to know what he has to say. When he finally pulls away, he's smiling again. "My darling Geralt," he tries again, "it would be my absolute pleasure to have you stay with me."

#now presenting: the chapter that nearly killed me #idk what's going on #but i can't make the link work rn #I'll fix it after #for anyone else who's forgotten what happened last time #geraskier #geralt x jaskier #jaskier x geralt #prostitute!jaskier #good as gold #rex writes

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twopoppies · 3 years

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What’s it like when a mutual or someone who was a huge part of the fandom becomes an anti? Is it awkward? Is it a sudden moment of realization where you stop giving them the benefit of the doubt or smth expected, like there were several signs and you saw it coming? I don’t mean to be annoying, it’s just bc I heard that an infamous anti was once one of us, and it was really weird, like what?? I’m not sure if I’d be sad, or a bit resentful, perhaps “wtf, you’re not making any sense, love” and if I’m not abusing your kindness, what was it like in the old days compared to nowadays?

Well, if you’re talking about E*mie, she went from being a big part of fandom and making tons of proof posts and timelines proving Larry, to many people recognizing that she was a bully and unfollowing/blocking her, to being pretty obvious that she only cared about Harry and was obsessed with him. Then one day she made a long-winded statement about how she was renouncing her ways and being a Larrie was bad and she deleted everything on her blog that had to do with Louis and Larry. Now she’s a solo harrie.

If you’re talking about S*a, she went from being a big part of fandom and making tons of song analysis posts and absolutely adoring Harry and being certain about Larry, to saying that maybe they’d broken up but still respected and loved each other, to they definitely broke up but still cared about each other, to Harry has been orchestrating his takeover of the music industry since 2013 and is the evil overseer of Louis’ suffering and she deleted everything from her blog pertaining to Harry and Larry. Now she’s a rad louie.

Really, just two sides of the same coin. There’s generally a pattern if you pay attention.

But there are also people who just decide that they’re more interested in one or the other of them, or think they broke up and just become solo stans. It’s sad sometimes, because they were nice to have as mutuals or just because I liked the content they created around Larry, but if you’re not being a dick about Harry or Louis (or Larries), then that’s just the way it goes. No big deal. I still have mutuals who no longer are Larries. But they’re still nice people. Not every former Larrie is an “ex-larrie”.

As for what was it like in “the old days”, I’m assuming you mean in the fandom in general? When the band was active, it was amazing. So much constant content and so much inspiration so there was great art and manips and edits and gifs and videos (RIP FIMQ) and fics all the time. Fandom was united and powerful. There were antis and neutrals, but most of the time we didn’t care much about them because the Larrie fandom was constantly fed. The rainbow bears lit us on fire, concerts were like an online party. We had things like project no control and rainbow direction. It was a lot of fun.

On the negative end, there were definitely cliques who did a lot of gatekeeping, and tons of indirecting posts if someone didn’t ascribe to the current accepted head canon. And always there was homophobia from antis. And there was bullying (a lot of the main nasty people are gone, but there are still a few around). Zayn leaving, babygate, and hiatus were the nails in the coffin. Prior to that, maybe I wasn’t aware of it because I was a new fan, but overall things just seemed fun.

#fandom dynamics

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fightabear · 3 years

Text

so some time ago, someone asked me to do meta about a scene in Injustice and i wanted to revisit that scene with the scene from Year Zero in mind. and then i ended up getting deeply into injustice damian, his relationship with his two awful dads, and it’s kind of a mini character essay?

so! here’s a warning for: tyrannical totalitariam regimes, child abuse, abusive fathers, emotional manipulation, evil superman, character death & also random he-man. please note that this is entirely about injustice and its characters, which are not a reflection on their mainstream counterparts.

there’s tension between damian and bruce from the get-go in injustice, and we’re never really told why. if we take cues from the game (though that entire scene doesn’t make sense) then it’s because bruce didn’t save jason, which fits in with my reordered robin theory in which tim and jason were switched, and jason has only recently died.

now, we don’t know whether jason is running around as red hood right now or not. but i’m inclined to say he isn’t, as his injustice 2 ending makes a big deal of him becoming red hood. and damian is close with jason in injustice 2, close enough that jason listens when damian tells him that he’s a lot more than bruce thinks he is and drops the shitty batman costume. close enough that during the (extremely weird, extremely out of alignment with the comic) scene in injustice 2 where damian betrays bruce for clark, jason is the name damian throws at him with the most vehemence. regardless of the robin ordeer, bruce’s failure to save jason is seems to be an incredibly sore point between them.

so it’s interesting that bruce is already counting damian out before injustice even starts. he’s comparing damian to jason - someone who he apparently no longer considers part of his legacy.

the kicker is: damian in injustice is actually probably the most morally centered version of himself. he shows open compassion and care for other people more often than he does in most of the mainstream runs. damian’s sense of right and wrong is solid, but what he wants is to break the cycle that gotham is trapped in. which from his perspective, is something bruce doesn’t seem to want to do.

injustice’s version of bruce is someone who truly believes that the ends justify the means - which means he’s apt to do some heinous things to people until they see his side of things. he seems to view people questioning as an act of betrayal, so instead of ever explaining himself he resorts to things like installing viruses in cyborg, kidnapping hawkgirl and replacing her, beating allies within an inch of their life - all of it is fine to him so long as they’re not dead.

but it’s not fine to damian. damian is constantly horrified at the lengths bruce will go to.

damian is afraid of his father.

so, this is about a specific scene. let’s get to that scene. its just important to note the difference between them, and emphasize that he’s not going with any intent to fight. if he was going to do that, he wouldn’t be doing this:

or respond like this:

or this:

he’s there to make amends, or at least try to. he still loves his father and he wants to be forgiven, and this is something that will carry on ten years later in injustice 2. damian made the choice to oppose bruce’s controlling nature but damian didn’t choose to abandon him and the bat family permanently. that choice was made for him. damian wants to come home.

and he’s terrified of his father. i cannot stress that enough. bruce at this point has already shown that he knows how to hurt his closest friends if they oppose him.

damian is a highly trained fighter, but he’s also a thirteen year old boy who knows he can’t overpower a man twice his size and weight.

and bruce?

bruce’s entire argument really hinges on ‘you, my thirteen year old son, didn’t take my side in this argument’. because, i have to put this in bold, the league was not executing the criminals they were removing from arkham. they were just transferring them to a more secure facility. something which is actually sorely needed, especially given what has just happened to metropolis. arkham isn’t fit to house them. and as far as damian sees it, bruce doesn’t like it because it’s removing an element of his control.

now, bruce isn’t wrong about how things will escalate.

but damian’s not wrong about his motivation here. i think there’s a conversation to be had about how bruce’s methods in trying to stop the regime actually drove it to further and further extremes. bruce never tries to talk to clark - or anyone, really. he just starts playing mind games to make them do what he wants.

it harkens back to the conversation bruce and dick have in the batplane. that bruce doesn’t talk to people, he doesn’t explain himself. he’s either right or you’re wrong and he won’t explain his stance. there is never room for debate. he’ll just stop talking and leave until you agree. there is no option where he sits and listens to an open and honest dialogue, no scenario where he entertains that he might be in the wrong or maybe things aren’t black and white.

and that’s why injustice bruce is not a good guy.

even on prime earth, damian had to bend over backwards to prove to bruce that he wasn’t a monster. it was damian who spent months digging through the sewers for martha’s pearls. damian who had to prove he was capable of loving titus. damian who constantly had to show that he was capable of empathy and thinking of others - bruce did none of the heavy lifting in that father-son relationship, he made damian climb the entire hill and still continues to put little effort into it.

and injustice bruce is even less empathetic and expressive than prime bruce.

which is why you get a confrontation like this:

this goes beyond dick’s accident and ties back into what clark said about bruce not tending to his son’s who are grieving because they lost friends in metropolis. damian’s fed up with never meeting bruce’s expectations. but more than that, he’s fed up with his feelings coming second to bruce’s.

bruce has already made a judgement on who and what damian is. damian has the potential to be dangerous and requires work to fix, and so he’s not interested in getting to know him beyond that. he tells dick that he’s “worried about damian being seduced by darkness” but never talks to damian himself with him about it.

but clark has looked at damian and and decided that damian is good. damian has problems, clark can admit that and does, but damian is good. like bruce himself.

and ultimately why when dick dies, clark is the one that reaches out to him because he sees damian for what he is: grieving child who just made a terrible mistake. it was an accident. damian didn’t mean for this to happen. meanwhile, bruce feels as though he was proven right. damian was dangerous and now his real son is dead. bruce will later admit, once he stops trying to manipulate damian, that damian was dead to him the moment dick died.

going back to year zero for a minute, they subtly show that damian is doing his best to be like bruce. baby damian idolizes his father. so i imagine a lot of bruce’s own feelings towards damian stem from self-hatred. from bruce seeing himself in his son and not liking the reflection it forces him to confront. injustice bruce projects a great deal of his own insecurities and shortcomings onto his youngest. damian is his worst what-if.

even though damian doesn’t deal with his grief the way bruce does. there are similarities, he puts his feelings into his fists and hits. just like bruce. but unlike bruce, and most likely because of dick, he does try to communicate. come injustice 2 he even talks about his feelings.

that doesn’t justify any of the violent outbursts. and he has a lot of them. he has significant issues with controlling his anger and struggles with lashing out, verbally and physically. it both worsens and improves as he gets older.

damian knows that he’s more than his grief, his loss, his anger. he’s also compassionate and capable of incredible feats of kindness. we see that in the flashback chapter in injustice 2. people aren’t pawns for damian, they aren’t a means to assuage his own guilt and validate himself as a good person. he wants to be good for those people.

damian’s relationship with heroism isn’t built on an intrinsic need for control or power, nor is it a means of validating his self worth.

people just need him. they’re suffering. and he wants to be there for them.

but again, we’re not there yet.

so, alfred reaches out to touch damian. damian asks him repeatedly to let go. when alfred doesn’t, damian tries throwing him off, not realizing how much strength he now possesses.

damian has a thing about being touched when he’s wound up tightly. it almost always ends with him lashing out at someone. which, tying back into why he felt comfortable coming back here, probably goes into his expectation that he’s going to get the lights knocked out of him. because again, damian did not go to the cave to fight or hurt anyone. the pill is entirely for his own defense.

from what we know of damian’s childhood in both prime and injustice, violence is the expected retaliation for misbehavior. toeing out of line is grounds for getting the shit beaten out of you, and while things should be different here....

from how bruce reacts he’s not wrong to expect it. note that bruce dodesn’t run to alfred to see if he’s okay, he goes after damian for hurting him. it’s damian who runs to alfred after he’s thrown bruce away from him.

( granted, yes, he threw bruce into the penny and it almost crushes alfred )

damian apologizes and he means it. alfred’s first question is to ask for bruce.

“”hawkgirl”” intervenes to try to end this fight before it can escalate further.

damian deduces that this isn’t hawkgirl and blows some stuff up. bruce calls after him probably - not to have a serious heart to heart with him about what just happened, or what happened in arkham, but to try to manipulate him into taking bruce’s side or in the very least stop his ruse from being uncovered.

this is a theme moving forward. bruce will dangle forgiveness in front of damian, but only when it benefits him and can be used to control him. eventually he’ll stop and will use the guilt he knows damian feels to wound him.

and here’s the second theme it introduces: damian is scared shitless of his father. he’s not afraid of bruce’s violence, as after this he charges straight for him time and time again, but he is utterly terrified of the lengths bruce will go to get his way.

this is also where he takes dick’s suit. i think this was his way of telling bruce that he didn’t deserve to use dick’s memory the way he uses his parent’s death - as justification for what he does. this comes up in injustice 2 later down the road, damian will bring up that bruce uses his pain to justify how he brutalizes the people around him. damian does the same thing -- but we also see damian grappling with his conscience about it. he wants to be better. he doesn’t want to be all his violence and loss.

back to the topic at hand, damian doesn’t do anything with dick’s suit. unlike bruce, damian doesn’t wear his grief and guilt in plain sight. he puts it in a box and doesn’t look at it, he covers the wounds with anger and as he gets older, develops a death wish and basically begins seeking a noble death in order to make up for what he’s done. it isn’t until dick passes the mantle to him in an attempt to steer him back on the right path that he even looks at it again.

damian isn’t the one that ended his relationship with bruce. bruce did. damian is very willing to reconcile if bruce genuinely wants it, but bruce doesn’t bother with damian outside of combat or when he needs something. damian actually keeps up visits with alfred, he gets him birthday presents, they meet up often and despite their opposing viewpoints, they get along just fine. damian even listens to what alfred says. he still loves his family.

damian himself is a mess. this line resonates because damian, too, is afraid. afraid of bruce, afraid of being what bruce thinks he is. there’s only so far he can bury it under the anger.

by the next issue of year one, after the confrontation at the manor, damian’s discarded any notion that bruce is a good person or justified in anything he does. everything he says on this page is true.

he’s not wrong. he’s more than bruce has even given him credit for being. injustice bruce sorts people into boxes impossible to climb out. damian made his attempt at reconciliation and instead, found out that bruce has kidnapped and replaced one of his friends to spy on all the rest. in that split second when bruce came at at him, he saw the disgust and anger in his eyes. he’s seen how bruce sees him and wholeheartedly rejects it.

he doesn’t want to be bruce. he will not be bruce.

batman was supposed to be better than the league. it was supposed to be a new way. instead he just found a new, different means to brutalize and control, and a new way someone justifies causing harm. and he doesn’t want it.

this isn’t to say that damian is a saint. he’s a very flawed, very broken person. he went from one abusive parental situation, to another, to another, and has the damage to show for it. he’s got bad habits from all of them, many of which he isn’t aware of or doesn’t think are a problem.

but unlike his two dads, damian doesn’t close himself off to what he’s feeling completely, nor does he decide to rush towards external solutions for his pain. he’s, again, very aware that something is wrong. he doesn’t hold to his convictions the same way bruce or clark do, he questions. he’s deeply unhappy with who he is and what he’s doing.

but damian is seeking answers using a very limited toolset, and there’s a very limited pool of people he can ask that won’t give him a biased answer or try to manipulate him for their own means. one of the people he confides in does just that.

the other gives him the honest truth.

his relationship with selina is fraught and she’s often one of the very nastiest people towards him, but it’s because of that he ends up opening up to her. she isn’t going to bullshit him and just say what he wants to hear.

and this is what makes damian different from them. both of them.

because he stops, because he questions, he’s still connected to reality. to his own humanity.

injustice’s bruce is a bruce that has quietly let his humanity die. he’s completely given over to the cold logic of batman and the idea that whatever he does to the people around him, no matter how morally dubious, is justified so long as it means protecting lives. he might not kill, but he really stops just short of that. he just doubles down on his beliefs and takes anyone who doesn’t agree with him as a traitor. he will go out of his way to rationalize how a largely guilty person is innocent (harleen) and how a largely innocent person is guilty (damian). and so he uses damian’s “betrayal” - ie, damian standing with clark instead of him - as justification for icing him out. that way he can ignore all the people who have reminded him time and time again that it was an accident.

bruce also can’t stand that damian won’t do what he says. bruce will ignore damian unless it benefits him. bruce will go on to frequently weaponize how badly damian wants forgiveness against him. there are multiple instances where he says “just do as i say and i’ll forgive you, son.”

and then in the next breath, he’ll tell damian that he “can’t forgive the deaths”, all the while he has harleen as his new sidekick. it’s fine that harleen helped with the scheme to blow up metropolis, killed jimmy olsen, and countless others. it’s not fine that damian did something he did all the time to dick - something dick himself shrugged off, because the expectation for this behavior was that dick would catch the baton - and it ended in tragedy.

because harleen listens to him and damian doesn’t. bruce cuts damian neatly out of his life and only really cares about him again when he’s a corpse.

damian, meanwhile, never stops trying to earn bruce’s forgiveness. in the canonical bad end (or well a comic offshoot of the canon ending) damian essentially dies begging bruce to forgive him, admitting that he always cared. he launches an absolutely insane rescue mission to save his father from clark’s torture and it costs him his life.

( but it’s worth mentioning - it takes damian showing bruce an image of kara for bruce to acknowledge him. )

even before this, damian was looking out for bruce in other ways. he was the reason selina got involved with the regime. because he offered her the chance to join and save bruce. damian’s anger towards bruce is less that he wants him dead, and more that bruce won’t stop unless he’s killed.

and damian is willing to kill him if bruce poses a threat to his ‘new’ family. he’s not going to watch bruce hurt the people he loves.

but his new father sucks just as much as his old one.

talia and bruce were more obviously abusive parents. they were controlling and sometimes asserted that control and obedience using physical violence and intimidation. in obvious ways you can point to and see abuse.

damian doesn’t recognize clark is using him until he sees clark discard kara, who should be everything to clark and is someone important to damian. before that, he has inklings that they’ve gone too far, but clark has been such a paragon of good that when he tells damian not to worry about it, he doesn’t. he hides all his darkness behind that smile and tells damian he’s good and worthy of people loving him, that they’re saving people and they won’t let another metropolis happen. clark talks to him and still (seems to) accept him even when they disagree.

damian misses clark’s equally as abusive tendencies because they hidden under the guise of a fatherly concern.

clark is manipulating him into divulging more than he wants to. a boundary damian set is being broken without damian even realizing it. damian’s uneasy. his body language goes from very easy and relaxed to overtly uncomfortable and almost submissive. it’s also very subtle but clark actually rises higher off the ground to intimidate and loom over him.

damian, who has only known bruce’s stormy silences in moments of disagreement, doesn’t recognize this for what it is. clark doesn’t take the slight out on him. clark doesn’t stop talking to him because he dared to question.

instead, he loops an arm around damian and praises him, rewards him for being honest and makes it seem like this is an open dialogue and not an interrogation. which it is. i wouldn’t call it gaslighting, but i would call it lovebombing. damian doesn’t realize that there was anything off about the encounter, or if he does, he’ll tell himself he’s just being paranoid.

after all. this ended amicably, not with him standing alone wondering what he did wrong, or being thrown across the room. clark basically stops just shy of ruffling his hair and calling him sport.

he was rewarded for honesty. and so any discomfort he felt was imagined.

i think a thing that a lot of fans miss is that injustice’s damian is a forthright person. he doesn’t lie or deceive much, and later on it will bother him that he’s keeping secrets from kara for ‘the greater good’. he loathes that bruce does it and works hard to not fall into that trap. he wants to be honest. he’s glad when he’s rewarded for that honesty.

because injustice’s damian doesn’t want to be batman. he wants to be superman. he wants to be good.

but injustice’s superman is not a good man.

clark keep secrets, many terrible secrets, and often hurts people and justifies it to himself. he just hides it far better than bruce does. clark is even more controlling and cruel, but he leans harder into his humanity and emotions to hide it. it’s easier to see bruce being cold and calculating and miss the way clark subtly uses what you want to get what he wants out of you. and you never really see it coming when he lashes out. he’ll apologize for it, of course, and if you’re not dead you’ll forgive him, because it’s clark. he didn’t mean it. right?

bruce manipulates overtly and grandly using intimidation, clark manipulates subtly using emotion. damian only recognizes one of these things when they happen.

so clark gives damian what he wants - a parent who loves him, someone he can talk to and even show a little vulnerability with - and then uses that against him.

the worst thing - the very worst thing - is that bruce and clark love damian. he knows this. both seem to genuinely consider him their son. and he knows this.

in injustice vs motu, bruce snaps fully into awareness just as diana snaps damian’s neck. he’s awake just in time to watch his son die. and when clark is brought onto the scene, clark falls to his knees and mourns damian and laments his role in driving him to this.

but they weaponize this parent-child bond he wants against him and each other. frankly, neither of them were very interested in him for who he was. nor for helping him be better and master his anger. damian’s body isn’t even cold before bruce uses it against clark, failing to acknowledge his own part in damian’s all too early demise.

he’s another chess piece on their board. one clark can use to wound bruce. one bruce can use to wound clark.

the person damian is when away from both of their influence is a more complete damian. he’s the very best of both of them.

the damian here is still curt and sometimes rude, but he laughs and bonds with the people around him. he values people’s freedom and seems to strive for honesty and communication. meaning no one is in his war to reclaim the world doesn’t want to be, and he makes no move without everyone knowing.

when he recruits adam, he tells them their story and what they’ve gone through and gives adam the choice to join them or stay in eternia.

anyway, all of this is to say that even all these years later, i continue to be so sad about injustice damian wayne.

edit:

now, there’s actually one other thing i want to bring up because i totally forgot about it.

so. issue 8 of injustice 2.

if we’re going with the idea of the reordered robin theory, which is what makes the most sense to me considering jason’s age and the friction between bruce and damian, this before jason dies. and if i’m wrong and the robins don’t have a different order, then this is before some enormous event that broke the slowly building trust.

there’s none of the undercurrent of hostility and distrust that shows up in year 0, which is immediately before year 1. we’re not given a timeframe for when this occurs, either, it’s just happier times.

but what’s really hard to ignore is that the dynamic between bruce and damian is completely different here. maybe tom taylor’s just settled more into writing the two of them, but i don’t think so. year zero comes after this.

he even acknowledges damian’s anger earlier in the chapter. but it’s less of a condemnation of his character and more a concern that he might not be ready to be on his own. alfred is the one advocating for caution, asking if he’s ready, bruce is the one saying yes, he is.

it’s a complete reversal.

and his trust is rewarded with a night of damian abandoning the “”mission”” he was given (get home from the furthest point of gotham in three hours) to help everyone along the way. which was the real goal all along, it was a test to see if damian’s compassion would win out over his want to win. and it does. bruce is proud of him.

so... what happened between them? what caused that shift?

i’m kind of worried we’re never going to know. like, i’m so glad that tom taylor is dc’s new golden boy and they’re just letting him build a million different aus. i buy every book he writes.

but also i’m dying because IJ2 was clearly planned to go on a lot longer than it did and i have questions that i know netherrealm doesn’t care about answering.

#damian wayne #injustice #bruce wayne #dick grayson #alfred pennyworth #jason todd #clark kent

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cockasinthebird · 4 years

Note

billy filling up steves hole with his cum and then shoves a butt plug in steve

Dear anon, Oh... oh ho ho, this got good, like I am very satisfied with this! Truly a splendid way to... reintroduce lemons to my posting again now that I am free from flag!

Do enjoy~

Billy hides his wide, self satisfied grin behind a hand; his elbow on the desk, chin in palm, pretending to pay attention to English class, but he's acing it so why bother anymore?

Steve's squirming in his seat, constantly repositioning himself carefully, face flushed red like he's running a fever - feels like it too, blood boiling and skin slightly sweaty.

He steals a few glances in Billy's direction every now and then, finding blue eyes piercing into him, tongue occasionally darting out to wag salaciously before licking his lips that curl something so mischievously.

Is it obvious? It feels like it's so impossibly obvious, but no one has said a thing yet, and every other student in here stares blankly up ahead, disinterested and bored as all hell.

The clock ticks slower and slower, wearing Steve's patience thin, seconds away from shattering.

He turns to look at Billy again, who cocks a brow, his chest stuttering with a laugh, almost as if he can read Steve's thoughts. Or maybe he just knows him well enough by now that that wouldn't even be necessary to do.

So Steve shifts around again, the plug keeping him closed rubs at all the right muscles, hitting sweet nerves that scatter up his spine in a euphoric dance, encouraging a moan to search for freedom, only to then get caught just barely before jumping off of his tongue.

He keeps his legs closed tight, hoping it'll conceal the impressive bulge in his jeans. It's gross and disgusting and perverted and shameful, to sit through class with an almost full erection, but that all only elevates the thrill of it, the stupid excitement of danger, a rush of adrenaline that pumps through him whenever he looks at Billy.

Billy, who didn’t leave after last night.

Billy, who woke Steve up by rubbing his veiny cock between Steve’s thighs.

Billy, who fingered Steve’s slightly sore hole all nice and sweet while cooing and praising him.

Billy, who thrust into Steve from behind as they laid on their sides.

Billy, who right after he came plugged Steve’s ass still full of every drop of his cum.

Billy, who kindly asked Steve to wear it all day, whispering about how hot that would be babe, you walking around with me inside of you, sitting in class ready to burst.

And Steve, who’s been unintentionally edging all day since, agreed all too readily, but Billy has this irresistible charm about him that just turns Steve to butter. A flash of teeth, soft caressing, voice deep.

It’s magic.

When the bell rings for lunch, Steve barely registers it - lost in the vividly fresh memory of this morning, of last night, of the past few weeks. Every one of his classmates stands up, talking loudly, chairs scooting around as they flood out of the room.

But Steve stays. Billy stays. Even as they’re the last people here, they stay.

“Not hungry?” Billy drawls, tapping his foot a few times before turning in his seat, angling open legs in Steve’s direction.

Whose fingers are currently testing the strength of his pencil; thumb pushing against the yellow painted wood. He hasn’t taken a single note all day, staying home would have been more productive in truth.

“I can’t get up.”

Billy laughs, loudly, uproarious, throws his head back with it before running his gaze up and down Steve’s stiff posture. “I don’t think that’s your issue right now.”

And Steve groans at that, at other things too, rolls his eyes in frustration even though he absolutely would have found that funny at the right time. Now is not then.

“Fine, I can’t stand up-” Lips shuts closed quickly as he finally looks at Billy, and sees the clear outline of his thick cock reaching down his thigh underneath too tight jeans. The pencil in his hand snaps.

His own hard dick twitches at the sight of that, at the brief moment of wondering just how long Billy’s been like that, wondering if he’s going to do something about it. He meets with Billy’s excessively lustful gaze, pupils blown till there’s barely even a sliver of blue left. Lips part as Billy ever so slowly reaches down to wrap wide fingers around the shape of his shaft, hissing and groaning cautiously, eyes darting to the door then back to where Steve is caught in a trance.

“I don’t think I can wait till the end of today, princess.” Billy stands up and walks over to Steve in one fluid motion, where he leans closer, raised above Steve still, staring down at him. “I’m gonna need to fuck you now.”

Steve probably wouldn’t have even really struggled against the suggestion of fucking on top of his desk in their classroom, door wide open, shutters drawn, the most exposed and illegal it could get. He would have gladly bent over and let Billy have his way with him, finish what he started this morning, get him nice and well fed on every drop of cum his body can contain.

But no, sadly that’s not a risk Billy’s willing to take. Rather he yanked Steve up from his seat, got a good look and thorough feel of his painfully sensitive erection, dragged him through mostly empty halls to the completely empty boys locker room.

His hairstyle gets ruined as he presses the top of his head against the orange tiles, staring down to watch his own hands fumble in their hurry to unbuckle his belt and zip down his jeans. From behind he hears the same tune played with a far more confident hand, as Billy releases himself with a refreshing gulp of air.

Seconds after Steve drops his pants and angles his briefs down just far enough to free his own leaky prick, a hand slaps against the tiles next to his face as Billy leans in to kiss where the collar of his striped polo can’t reach, gentle and soft lips travel up and down Steve’s neck, sending luscious waves of delight washing over him, hushed moans slipping from parted lips.

“Have to be quiet, baby,” Billy whispers, kisses the shell of Steve’s ear. “Think you can be quiet?”

“C-can you?” Steve barely manages with a huff of a laugh, and he feels Billy smile against his neck.

“Only one way to find out.”

And he’s gone - taken a step back. Steve looks over his shoulder to watch him stroke and slick up his fat cock with pre, staring like a hungry wolf at where Steve pushes his ass out to accentuate the shape of it.

“Spread your cheeks,” Billy demands with a tone that almost implies an unspoken ‘or else’. “Show me how full you are.”

Steve doesn’t hesitate- wouldn’t even dream of it, as he presses his face against the icy orange tiles for support as he moves both hands behind, down, a handful of cheek in each as he pulls them apart, exposing the base of the dark purple buttplug that keeps him stuffed, keeps him stretched out, keeps him ready.

When Billy prods at it with one finger it sends electric jolts through the entirety of Steve’s being, sensitive and heightened, he gasps a bit too loud and bites back a moan.

“D-don’t do that, fuck,” he breathes in a heavy sigh.

“Why not?” And Billy does it again, with more intent this time, pressing harder and drawing circles around.

A motion that makes it near impossible for Steve to shut up, fingers digging into flesh with bruising restraint, his lonesome cock spurting and dripping with pre onto the floor. “A-ah- Billy…”

Billy’s chuckle practically reverberates off of the tiles, his self-satisfaction palpable in the bass of his voice.

“Can’t wait to fuck you so good ‘n hard, pretty boy,” he drawls and runs his fingers along the edges of the flat base.

“B-be careful, okay?” Strings of nerves pull at Steve’s stomach, a heat of embarrassment flooding out into his cheeks at the worry that it might hurt.

Billy’s adventurous, buys them all kinds of fun toys to play around with, dildos and fleshlights and beads and cuffs and clamps, literally anything he can get his hands on, but they’ve never tried this with a plug more than three fingers wide.

But then there’s a calm hand on his; Billy lacing their fingers together where Steve is still spreading himself wide, and it doesn’t exactly calm the storm brewing, but it does close the window to it.

“I got you, baby, I got you,” Billy coos, kisses his way across Steve’s fingers, across the cheek, up to his tailbone before leaning away.

Fingers closing around the plug as he pulls and… it doesn’t hurt, not exactly, it’s more of a strained feeling in the muscle, hints of pain here and there mixing deliciously together with the raw euphoria of it all, so fucking good Steve’s worried for a moment that he might actually cum from this alone, chanting fuck fuck fuck.

“Shit Stevie,” Billy sounds positively awed. “Wish you could see yourself right now.”

Steve tries though, looks behind to see Billy staring at his fluttering hole, butt plug shiny in hand, slick with cum and whatever lube might be leftover from hours ago.

“So fucking sexy…”

He can feel cum running out, warm from having been kept inside of him all day, leaking down his balls and thighs. Then he’s full again - three fingers full, as Billy thrusts those digits into him with ease and pleasure.

“God, you’re so wet and loose, princess,” Billy growls as he stands up to press himself against Steve. “Listen to that…”

Billy pumps his fingers in and out, the squelching of it all obscene like he’s fingering a soaking pussy, Steve’s pussy, who has never struggled to keep quiet this much in his entire life, every dive in stopping just short of reaching that perfect bundle of nerves deep in him, it feels almost deliberate.

“Just dripping with my cum.” Billy licks and nibbles and kisses up and down Steve’s neck where he can reach, making the skin there red from abuse and attention. “Think you can handle more? Get all fat on my cum?”

“Y-yes,” Steve whimpers between ragged breaths and nods profusely.

“Yes, what?” Fingers curl at a tortuous angle, like a light punishment that only makes Steve’s dick leak worse.

“Yes, please, I need you so bad, fuck me, please,” he rambles as a response, ready and willing to keep going, anything for Billy.

But the devilish chuckle signs that that’s more than enough. “Hmmm since you asked so nicely.”

The thick digits are quickly replaced with the blunt head of Billy’s cock, eager and horny, gently pushing into the easy and wet stretching of Steve’s ass, watching it reverently where pale hands are still spreading the cheeks wide for him.

When there’s no more hard flesh to offer, Billy keeps moving closer, wraps his arms around Steve and buries his face in the crook of his neck. They stand still like that for far too many seconds, as near as near gets, both of them pushing into each other, as if it would be possible to connect deeper than this.

At the start of it all it was quick and rough and often too dry in their rushing of getting together, but now it’s… this. Whatever this is.

Whatever it means when Billy mutters, “Feel so good.”

Whatever it means when he doesn’t leave after.

Whatever it means when they hold one another like it’s something dear.

Steve’s not the biggest fan of getting fucked from behind - he can’t see Billy, touch Billy, kiss Billy, but the way his steely cock drags against his insides as he starts thrusting gives Steve an incomparable amount of ecstasy, when hands grab on to his hips to control the tempo, push and pull and pound, skin slapping as Billy slams into him.

Choked whimpers is all he can offer up here- all he’s allowed to, and he feels the restraint hurt in his throat, every single salacious little sound fighting for their freedom, the rhythmic movement of Billy’s hips snapping against Steve’s ass only encouraging every rebellious impulse that’s contained within.

But the silence between them now speaks more than words, as Billy himself barely even grunts past hitching breaths. His biggest fear is getting caught, he once admitted, and that only gets him hard. Even brushing fingers at the movies can get him going apparently, which is a delightful little secret Steve discovered all on his own.

“Fuck,” is the first real word to escape him in minutes, as he bends over and places his hand on top of Steve’s where he’s supporting himself on the wall. “I’m close, baby.”

Steve’s almost convinced he could cum untouched, but he’s not patient enough for it, bringing his free hand down to fervently jerk his pulsating dick, utterly soaked in pre cum, yearning for release after hours of being half hard.

It’s become an easy feat by now to match the quick and irregular pace that Billy always finds leading up to his orgasm, Steve’s hand following the pattern with practiced precision, eyes closed and focusing solely on how wet and slippery and glorious Billy’s veiny cock pummels rapidly into him, pounding against that golden bundle of nerves that makes Steve want to cry out, knees going weak, stars glistening behind his eyes.

And when he cums, hot and white into his hand, it’s blinding, the stars exploding like fireworks, raining fiery bliss down upon him, toes curling in his sneakers, biting into his lip till it cracks and bleeds.

Behind him Billy makes a strangled noise; an abrupt and dissatisfying sound compared to his usual roar of a peak, as Steve’s dripping wet hole chokes around every inch of Billy’s girthy dick. Steve puts forth a foot to counterweight the way Billy presses into him with all his force, both hands on his hips now to keep them like this, his forehead pressed between Steve’s shoulder blades as he empties out for a second time inside of Steve’s poor, puffy, abused ass.

Steve’s convinced he can feel it, wet and burning and full. Fuller. Brimming, ready to burst, that if this was a porn vid the camera would angle down to watch it all spill out of him, and he can’t be blamed for the breathy moan that escapes at that imagery.

“God, princess…” Billy’s voice hoarse and raspy, weak and satisfied. He snakes his arm around Steve’s waist and runs a hand up and down his stomach. “That was…”

“Yeah,” Steve eventually huffs, neither of them truly finding much use for words in the moment.

“Mmhm,” Billy whirs and props his chin up on Steve’s shoulder, tilting his head till their eyes meet. “I’m thinking…”

A chill flees down Steve’s back immediately at that notion, because Billy rarely ever thinks of anything else other than… “What?”

“What if we… plugged you up again?” Billy grins like he’s already won this, like the cat that got the cream.

“Billy, please-”

“Steve, please.”

They stare at each other in silence, Billy still with that same twist of lips, Steve’s… uncertain. He loves the idea of it, but in practice? Today has already been hell on him this way, but Billy…

“Come on baby, please? Keep you wet and full of my cum all day, and tonight I’ll buy you a really nice dinner and clean you up in the shower?” He kisses promises against skin, nuzzling his nose against the shell of Steve's ear. “Light some candles… I’ll be real gentle with you.”

Steve’s not gonna be able to sit right for weeks to come after today, but he nods in agreeance. Because those promises almost sound like a date.

#Harringrove #my writing #lemon #5 pages and 2.6k words #this is the most I've written since the flagging #Anonymous

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bobafetts-princess · 3 years

Note

I have a pretty personal question. You posted about breastfeeding and labor with the bad batch, and you’ve definitely talked about being a mama here before! I’m working two separate projects involving pregnancy, birth, and caring for newborns. Could you give some insight on what things in fic you see about any of those topics that are just absolutely incorrect. Or share any sort of experience/ thing you would like to see portrayed in fic?? I want my projects to be well done, and as correct as I can even though it is fiction! Feel free to ignore, I don’t want to treat you like a walking women’s health encyclopedia!

I will be more than happy to answer this question! I’m proud to be a mama and share my knowledge that I’ve accumulated so far! We’re 19 months solid into our breastfeeding journey and show no signs of stopping! My kiddo was a little on the difficult side and honestly still has her days so I’ve got some knowledge 😂

Putting it under the cut cause it might get long!

As I talked about HERE the thing that bothers me MOST is when it’s a sex scene and pregnant person is laying on their back. It’s very dangerous for pregnant person and baby. There is a very large blood vessel that can get compressed by the uterus as it grows to accumulate a fetus. The uterus can compress this vessel and cause blood loss to the baby. If you lay on your back long enough you can prevent enough oxygen from reaching the baby that you can cause death. I personally didn’t get uncomfortable until roughly halfway through (20 weeks) but afterwards? I would wake up in the middle of the night because I’d be uncomfortable on my back. I couldn’t even recline back comfortably because it put so much pressure on my belly and it hurt. Which is good and totally normal!!!

The other thing that bothers me is when the only portrayal of a pregnant person is that she’s crazy horny. And don’t get me wrong, there are absolutely some pregnant people out there who’s hormones go buck wild and they just want to get laid constantly. And that’s awesome for them and it’s awesome for fanfic! I, however, did definitely not have that experience. As soon as I started having symptoms (6 weeks) I didn’t want my husband to even look at me, let alone dick me down three times a day. Even when I was barely pregnant with the child I lost I did not want anything to do with sex. When we did have sex it was definitely in doggy because your whole body hurts and that position takes the most pressure off the belly.

Another one I see, a lot, regarding newborns is that the baby sleeps in a different room. It’s heavily pressed upon parents now that the baby sleeps in your bedroom until at least six months because there is evidence showing that birth givers have a physiological connection with babies that alerts them when the baby has rolled over onto their belly and can’t get back onto their backs. It’s thought to prevent the occurrence of Sudden Infant Death Syndrome, (SIDS) where the baby passes in their sleep for no discernible reason.

Chestfeeding parents especially are rare (at least the ones I know) to sleep with babies in a different room because breastfeeding babies feed more often than formula fed babies because formula is heavier. My kid still sleeps in my bed for Christ’s sake (pray for me)

And I haven’t seen it here but I know it exists irl so it definitely exists here too but for the love of FUCK don’t have sex before 6 weeks, even if you feel fine. Your uterus isn’t healed until at least 6 weeks (my husband and I waited 4 months cause he was so worried about hurting me) and you have a fucking dinner plate sized hole in your body that will get infected if you aren’t careful. And the first time after birth will feel different and that’s totally normal and okay too! My husband and I have never been lube users because I usually get wet enough, but the first 4 months after we started having sex again we had to use lube. And that’s okay too! Lots of birth givers do!

Thanks so much for asking and if I think of anything else I’ll add it in another reblog!!

#the siren answers #treasured anons #tw babies #tw pregnancy #cw labor #cw pregnancy

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littlestarofthewest · 3 years

Text

Santa’s Little Helper

This was supposed to be a Christmas present for the lovely @verai-marcel, but tumblr fucked me over and didn’t post it. I’m sorry, dear. Please accept a veeery belated Merry Christmas ❤️️ It was hard to write something for the person who already wrote everything, but I did my best :)

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x female reader | Words: 2674 | Rating: Explicit!!!

Summary: You hate working at the mall as an elf. At least until a new Santa comes around.

You have to dig deep into your closet for your costume. You remember exactly how you tossed it in there last year, fed up from hanging around the mall wearing a stupid get up and a fake smile.

Every year, you tell yourself that you'll do better and won't have to do this anymore, but your year has been shitty, and while you hate being an elf, it's a steady gig with good pay.

After changing in the staff room at the mall, you head out to assist the others in setting up Santa's workshop. Without customers around, you can hold on to the rest of your dignity for now.

Santa's little helpers are a combination of a few new people and some regulars like you. They happily welcome you back, lifting your spirits a little. While decorating the giant slide, you overhear them talking about the new Santa. The old one went into retirement last year, making him the second one you saw come and go. It makes you curious how the new guy is going to be.

He shows up about half an hour later in full costume. The black belt digs deep into his full belly, a fake white beard hanging over it. The big boots make a heavy sound as he walks, the bobble on his cap swaying back and forth.

He exchanges a few words with the mall's manager before he walks over with purpose in his stride. It makes you confident that he's not a drunk or otherwise abuses substances that will hinder his performance. There's nothing worse than having to constantly supervise Santa, so he doesn't scare off the children.

He greets the other elves and helps with a few last-minute preparations. You're battling an oversized candy cane that's about to topple over and bury you when a huge hand grabs its top, holding it in place. New Santa is standing next to you, so close that you catch a glimpse at his piercing blue eyes.

"Careful," he says, his voice a deep rumble.

"Thank you," you say, tying down the rope that holds the candy cane in place. "I feared that one of these monstrosities might finally get me."

"You've done this before, huh?"

His voice sends a shiver down your spine, but you do your best to act calm. "A couple of times. You?"

"Me, too. Just not at this scale," New Santa says, looking around. "Usually, I go from door to door in small towns."

"Why the change then?"

"I just moved here, closer to my brother. My sister in law has a baby on the way, and I'm planning on helping out. Chances are she'll kill my brother otherwise."

"Sounds like a lot of responsibility."

"I'm Santa," he says with a laugh, clapping his huge belly. "I think I can manage."

"Let's see how you handle the mall crowd first," you say in a teasing tone.

He sizes you up for a moment, amusement sparkling in his eyes. "You're going to help me?"

"It's my job," you laugh, "like, literally."

New Santa smiles, holding out his hand. "I'm Arthur, by the way."

You tell him your name while shaking his hand, warmth spreading up your arm and to your chest. There's something so very different about this Santa compared to the others. It's going to be interesting to work with him.

-----

Since you've started working with Arthur, a miracle has happened. For the first time, you're actually enjoying the job. Arthur's great with the kids and endlessly patient even with the most pretentious parents. He doesn't take their shit, but he always finds a way to defuse the situation.

The breaks with Arthur are nice as well. He's quiet, but when you find the right topic, he's easy to talk to. Over time, you go from joking over teasing to right out hazing each other. If you're honest, it sometimes even feels a little bit like flirting. Still, you try not to read too much into it. The days of working with him are numbered, after all.

After one horrible shift where a kid is dead set on ripping off Arthur's beard, and another one vomits all over his shoes, you tell him to clear out. You and the other elves clean up, and when you finally enter the locker room, it's quiet. At first, you think you're on your own, but then you turn the corner, finding another co-worker half-hidden in his locker.

"What a night, huh?" you say, making him aware that you're here.

"You can say that again," he says, the voice sending the usual shiver down your spine. Arthur appears from inside the locker, smiling at you. "Thanks for cleaning up. I'll help out tomorrow."

You wish you could say anything, but you're too distracted by Arthur's appearance. It only occurs to you now that you've never seen him without the costume before. Without the fake beard, there's still a nice stubble shadowing his chin and cheeks. The huge Santa belly makes way for a nice little tummy that you wouldn't mind kissing, especially to get to whatever's hidden under the tight jeans Arthur's wearing.

"You alright?" Arthur asks, honest concern on his face, so you decide to tell the truth.

"I just realized I've never seen you without the costume. You're not really old and fat."

Arthur laughs, clapping his stomach. "I'm getting there, especially with the holidays coming up."

"Is your partner a good cook?" you ask, hating yourself a second later, but Arthur shrugs before pulling a shirt over his head.

"Nah, I'm single," he says, sitting down to put on his shoes. "Just got a bunch of friends who drown me in holiday treats."

"Not the worst way to go," you say, and Arthur laughs.

"You're right. I really can't complain." He picks up his bag but leans against his locker, obviously in no rush. "How about you? Any plans for the holidays?"

"The usual," you say with a shrug. "Eating, drinking, and staying in bed as much as possible."

"That sounds great," Arthur says, and the way he looks at you makes you feel like you're in a heap of trouble.

-------

"I can't get you all in the frame like this. Move closer together, people," the photographer says.

It's your last day on the job, and the manager insists on an annual picture of the Christmas Crew. You shuffle closer to your co-workers, but the photographer still isn't satisfied. He alternates between checking his camera and barking instructions.

"You there, stand behind the slide. You three on the side, get on the ground in front. And you, you can sit on Santa's lap."

With horror, you realize that the last order is directed at you. When you don't move, the photographer clicks his tongue with annoyance. "Go on, dear. I'm sure he doesn't mind. It's in his job description."

You throw a questioning look at Arthur, and when he gives you a little wave, the photographer claps his hands. "See? Now, the two of you, up here."

He keeps giving orders while you settle down on Arthur's lap, trying your hardest not to put any weight on him. That works for about a minute, but the photographer keeps giving orders, and you fear your legs might cramp up.

"I'm not going to break, you know?" Arthur whispers behind you, and you move around a bit to get in a better position.

It's not so much about not hurting Arthur but more about not embarrassing yourself. You had a crush on Arthur from the start, but ever since you've seen him out of costume, it's been way worse. You've been thinking about him a lot, and he even showed up in your dreams. Being close to Arthur is dangerous. It wouldn't be the first time you did something foolish because of a guy.

The photographer keeps rearranging people, giving you ample time to notice how good Arthur smells and how hot his body feels against your own. It makes you tingly all over to think about certain things you could do together. Without meaning to, you move around even more until you hear Arthur's breath hitch behind you.

You're about to ask if he's alright, but then you feel something pressing up against your ass, and a wave of heat rushes through your body. Arthur tries to shift his weight under you, but then the photographer finally seems satisfied.

"Alright, nobody move!" he instructs before diving behind his camera. "Big smiles!"

You do your best to force a smile on your face while you still feel Arthur pressing hard against you. The photographer lets all of you make faces or wave, every second of it seeming like hours. You wish you could say that it didn't affect you, but the thought of Arthur's dick merely a few layers of clothing away from your pussy gets you all worked up.

Thoughts of you together rush through your head, and you can't help but move a little, making Arthur groan behind you. You wish you could just turn around and make things interesting, but instead, you jump up the second the photographer releases you.

You still feel hot all over by the time you arrive at your locker, and you busy yourself with your phone, not wanting to change now with other people still around.

This morning, you even thought about asking Arthur for his number, so you wouldn't lose track of him, but that's out of the question now. You just hope he's not one to harbor a grudge in case you both end up working here next year.

"Hey," a deep voice says next to you, and you jump in surprise.

Arthur's standing at the far end of the row of lockers, fidgeting with his hands. "We're the last ones here, but I can leave as well if that makes you uncomfortable."

You didn't notice that everybody left already, but you don't mind at all. This gives you a chance to apologize. "No, it's alright."

"I just wanted to apologize for what happened out there," Arthur says. "It's just that you're so goddamn sexy, especially in that stupid costume, and you were sitting right there-"

You can't believe what you're hearing, but Arthur stops himself, taking a deep breath before speaking again. "I'm not trying to make excuses. I'm just very sorry for what happened, and I hope we can just forget about it."

"Don't worry about it, Arthur. I'm not uncomfortable, and you did nothing wrong," you say, trying to reassure him. "I would be happy to ride on your lap any time."

"Oh, okay. Good," Arthur says, a nervous smile dancing around his lips. "Have a good evening then."

He disappears behind the lockers, and you lean back against your own, swallowing a sigh. You can't believe you said something so stupid. Arthur's a sweetheart, and you totally blew it.

You open your locker to get out your clothes when Arthur rounds the corner. "You said 'ride,'" he says, "not 'sit' on my lap but 'ride.' Did you mean like-?"

He doesn't finish the sentence, but you can't help yourself. "Like sex, yes."

You both stare at each other, and you're about to apologize, but then Arthur moves. A second later, your hands are in his hair, and he cups your face in his hands as you kiss. You end up pressed against your locker, you and Arthur both ready to devour each other. Still, he manages to move a few inches away, both of you breathing heavily.

"Is that okay?" Arthur asks in between breaths. "Do you want to-?"

"God yes," you say, cutting him off to pull him in for another kiss.

Your permission seems to hit a switch inside of Arthur. He picks you up, and you end up on the next durable surface, Arthur's hands roaming all over you. You reach down to lift his shirt over his head, and while he opens the buttons on your blouse, you run your hands over his chest and stomach.

As soon as you're out of your blouse, Arthur kisses along your neck, down to your breasts. Your fingers dig into the skin on his shoulders as he teases your nipples with his tongue, both of you not wasting any time. When Arthur runs his fingers up your thigh, you pull up your skirt and spread your legs.

Arthur simply pushes your underwear aside to tease your pussy, and you're getting so wet that you can think about nothing else but getting off as hard and fast as possible. You open up Arthur's pants, his low curse when you pull out his dick, giving you way more satisfaction than it should.

Grabbing your legs, Arthur pulls you closer, and you can't help a little cry when he pushes into you. It's been a while since you've been with someone, and with the way this is going, you won't last long.

You put your arms around Arthur's neck, and he lifts you up a little. It's not exactly riding him, but you roll your hips to welcome each of his thrusts, both of you moaning and panting.

It feels so good; you wish you could drag it out, but the way Arthur's holding you in place to have his way with you already got you going, and then Arthur does the worst thing he can do.

He's holding on to your hair, his lips right by your ear, whispering between eager breaths. "Dammit, you feel so good. I dreamed about this."

Arthur talking right into your ear feels like someone poured honey all over you, a nice glaze soon covering every inch of your body. You pull him closer, doing your best to get as much friction as possible.

"Jesus, sweetheart, you're killing me here," Arthur groans, sending you right over the edge.

Your muscles clench around him as you come, your face burrowed in the crook of his neck. He doesn't move until you relax and your breathing evens out a little. Still, you feel how Arthur is, so you roll your hips, drawing more curses from him.

"Come on, Santa," you whisper in his ear, "let your little elf please you."

Arthur groans, his fingers digging into your hips as he buries himself inside you with short, hard thrusts. With eager moans, he picks up the pace, and although he seems like he might explode any second, he manages to kiss you in such a tender way that you feel like melting.

Finally, Arthur pushes deep into you, and this time he stays there until he comes, the tension slowly fading from his body. While he's focused on breathing, you scratch his back and stroke a few loose strands of hair out of his face.

Arthur looks up to you with a thankful expression, and you smile. "This morning, I thought about asking for your number."

"I guess we rushed way past that," Arthur says with a laugh, but then he reaches into the pocket of his jeans and hands you a small piece of paper. I usually start with coffee - not this."

You kiss him one more time before you part to get dressed. "I wouldn't mind coffee."

Arthur runs a hand through his hair. "I've got some great coffee at home."

"Do tell," you say, acting nonplussed as you get your things out of your locker.

"Remember what you said about not getting out of bed, just relaxing?" Arthur asks. "I have a nice bottle of wine I could never finish by myself."

The mere thought of spending more time with Arthur makes you all tingly, and you turn around to look at him. "Did you borrow that suit, or do you take it home with you?"

Arthur grins. "Really? Santa?"

"Probably not every Santa," you say, running your hands over his chest before kissing him again, "but I like this one."

-------

For the next two days, you and Arthur only leave his bed when you absolutely have to.

#arthur morgan x female reader #rdr2 smut #rdr2 fanfic #my writing #modern au

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emiefaunwrites · 3 years

Note

I know this isn’t really related to Ishileon, but I wonder who Byakuya’s crush is... (unless you’ve already said it somewhere before and it just flew over my head haha) 😂

Heyyy!

Haha don't worry! It's in their AU so I'm happy to indulge.

Juuuuust before I do though, I must clarify that it's my opinion. A lot of people may not agree, but after reading some fics in the past I kinda fell in love with this rare pair. It'll make more sense when I get into it, but this is wholely above board.

Sorry for the disclaimer. But a few people MAY have issues with it. Hopefully the content will put people at ease.

So yeah. Here we go. MY opinion on Byakuya Togami's crush. Hope it's okay!

************************

• Byakuya Togami does NOT do crushes.

• What's the point in them anyway? They're distracting, they can get messy and most of the time it ends in heartache.

• And besides, he'll likely be forced into an arranged marriage at some point anyway. No point wasting time if his future is already decided.

• That's what he keeps telling himself anyway.

• Especially when HE keeps making his cold heart beat just a little faster every time he laughs.

• Ugh, why on earth has he fallen for Yasuhiro Hagakure?!

• The man is an idiot. A grade A IDIOT.

• He's the lowest grading in the whole class, believes in aliens and ridiculous conspiricy theories.

• Not to mention he's 4 years their senior and treats them all like brothers and sisters.

• And even if he wasn't so much older than them, he wouldn't think of Byakuya like that. He's quite clearly straight, right?

• And even if he WASN'T straight, he'd probably want someone more like Kuwata or something, wouldn't he?

• Whenever the cretin isn't leeching off his Moral Compass boyfriend, he's in Hiro's company, laughinh and joking about the most absurd things that Byakuya could NEVER understand.

• So he MUSTN'T indulge in the petty fluttering of his heart when he smiles at him. Shove it all down and act just like he does to everyone else.

• Keep your distance, Byakuya. Harden your heart and just get on with it.

• That's how he spends the three years in Hope's Peak - pining bitterly from afar.

• He thinks it'll be over once they leave - but his godforsaken class INSIST on having an annual renunion.

• And he is OBVIOUSLY the only one that will be able to host an acceptable event.

• So no matter how hard he works to forget, everytime he spots him and he flashes a grateful grin his way he just falls right back down again with a thud.

• How irritating.

• He finally ends up confessing to Taka, a few months after they'd started talking again.

• Taka has somehow learned to read body language (a skill he must have picked up from Leon since he was utterly useless at it back in school) so noticed at one of their renunions that something was off.

• And Byakuya, who'd had a little to drink by now, was fed up of holding it in and decided why not tell the man who's changing the country.

• Needless to say, Taka is surprised - Byakuya Togami in love with Yasuhiro Hagakure? An unlikely pairing to say the least.

• Then again, didn't everyone think the same of him and Leon?

• With that, he's determined to help - but naturally, Byakuya says no.

• It's too embarrassing, there's no point. And besides, Hiro's straight so...

• Well Taka knows that's not strictly true.

• Yes, Hiro has dated women. But he's also dated men. And has no interest in gender whatsoever. He likes who he likes with no second thoughts.

• But if he's perfectly honest, Hiro's never once mentioned any attraction to the Affluent Prodigy.

• This might be harder than he thought.

• It takes a few more years of slow progress before anything happens.

• Kei is staying at a friend's house so the boys invite some of their own around for a few drinks.

• And Hiro, who's had a few too many, starts babbling about the reunion that happened the month before.

• 'Togami-chi's looking good these days, huh?'

• 'Sorry?'

• 'I mean, he was a REEEEEAL dick in school. Looked like he was constantly smelling shit wherever he went. But as he's got older, he's not so mean anymore. And he's got a pretty nice smile, dontcha think?'

• THIS IS IT! The opening Taka was waiting for!

• He has to slam his hand over Leon's mouth, who about to burst out laughing, and keep Hiro talking.

• And yup. Turns out Hiro has FINALLY stopped thinking of them all as little brothers and sisters (considering a 32 year old is fine to date a 36 year old) and has started noticing Byakuya in a more romantic light.

• Leon thinks the whole thing is hilarious, cackling to himself when everyone has left.

• 'Hiro and TOGAMI?! Ha! Like that'll ever happen! He may be less of a dick now, but Togami would NEVER...'

• 'He does.'

• Leon spits out his drink at that, utter disbelief as Taka tells him everything.

• 'Well holy shit! We've got some matchmaking to do!'

• It's actually easier than they thought.

• They arrange a dinner between the four of them, getting Mondo to call about twenty minutes in to say Kei was ill and they needed to come home.

• Leaving Hiro and Byakuya alone to finish dinner alone.

• Byakuya is internally freaking out - he has NEVER spent any time alone with Hiro and has no idea how to talk to him...

• But Hiro has NO PROBLEM chatting away - cracking jokes and making silly remarks that Byakuya can't help but laugh at.

• And when they finish, Hiro smoothly asks for his number, saying they should hang out again sometime.

• So the cold hearted Byakuya Togami is slowly but surely mellowed by his beloved idiot, Yasuhiro Hagakure.

• And at the next annual reunion, everyone squeals in delight when Hiro scoops him up bridal style (to his embarrassment) and smooches him RIGHT on the lips.

• He acts all annoyed and scolds the older man that's grinning cheekily at him with hearts in his eyes.

• But Leon catches them making out in the courtyard later on, giving Byakuya (who spots him) the thumbs up before heading back inside.

#byakuya togami #yasuhiro hagakure #kiyotaka ishimaru #leon kuwata #ishileon #ask request #yaysof11037

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red-jaebyrd · 4 years

Text

The Gift

Damian had always wanted to have a cat, but he had never told anyone. So when Pennyworth presented him with one in the Cave it came as a bit of surprise. He wasn’t even sure Pennyworth liked him, though he tolerated Damian. Every subordinate “tolerated” Damian, Pennyworth wasn’t any different. Soon Pennyworth would grow to dislike him. They all did, but Damian couldn’t be bothered to care. It was beneath him to entertain such feelings. What did he care if Pennyworth liked him or not?

It was astounding the amount of disrespect and rebellious behavior Father tolerated from Pennyworth. The butler constantly meddled in their business by monitoring their sleep, making sure they were fed before and after patrol; and even had the gull to bench them from patrol due to injuries. The insolence of it all was hardly anything Damian could tolerate from a servant.

Father said Pennyworth’s rules and restrictions were just his way of showing that he cared about them and their safety. Damian thought it was a way for Pennyworth to assert his power over the Waynes and one day take over. He thought his Father naïve for having such faith in a butler. Pennyworth may care about his father, but not him. None of the servants at his Grandfather’s compound ever cared about his wellbeing enough for Damian to trust them. Their care for him was conditional. They feared for their lives more than they cared about keeping him safe.

Damian wasn’t sure what to make of Pennyworth’s meddling actions. It wasn’t because Pennyworth cared about him, no it was to remain in his Father’s good graces.

But then Pennyworth had given him a cat. Damian had always wanted a cat, but Grandfather saw them as useless, disgusting creatures and never permitted him to keep one. One day Damian had found an abandon kitten and he had been allowed to care for it, but it was a test. Everything with the League was always a test. When approached by his Grandfather to kill the kitten, Damian refused seeing no purpose in an act so senseless. Of course he was punished for refusing to end the animal’s life and since then he had been wary of caring for any animals; that was until he came to stay with his Father. Father had gotten him a dog and eventually let him keep the cow he rescued from a slaughterhouse.

He must not get attached to the cat, which shouldn’t be hard as it was currently hissing at Damian. The cat was a young tuxedo cat with a white marking across its whiskers like a mustache just like Pennyworth.

“He has potential. I’ll call him Alfred.”

It seemed like an unusual name to give to a cat, but it fit. The cat was bold for such a small creature and commanded respect, just like its namesake.

Damian watched with great interest the incredible care and patience Pennyworth had with a cat that seemed to hate him. He never attempted to pick up the cat, instead he’d kneel down and allow the cat to sniff his hand and only then would Pennyworth pet his head. He would always wait for the cat to come to him. At first the cat seemed to only be affectionate when it knew it was getting fed, but little by little he responded to both Pennyworth and Damian by curling up on their lap whenever either of them was seated.

It surprised Damian the effort Pennyworth took in helping him care for his cat. Pennyworth suggested they go to the pet store to get cat toys as cats ‘needed stimulation and enrichment’ and cat toys would help Alfred with human interaction and his trust issues.

A month had passed and the cat had stopped hissing…at Damian and Pennyworth. Pennyworth was the only other human Alfred the cat tolerated besides Damian. He was also the only person Damian trusted to help care for his cat.

The cat had been completely distrustful of everyone when it had first arrived, just like Damian. Perhaps that is what Pennyworth meant when he said, ‘I saw him and thought of you’? Damian still wasn’t sure of Pennyworth’s motives where the cat was concerned.

Pennyworth did prove himself to be a very trustful ally when caring for Alfred and if the cat trusted Pennyworth; that was good enough for Damian. Cats were instinctual creatures and their trust was hard earned.

There was still something that had been niggling at the back of Damian’s mind. Perhaps it wouldn’t matter to anyone else, but it mattered to him.

“Why did you get me a cat?” Damian asked, throwing the mouse toy at Alfred. The cat rolled on his side clawing it and kicked it back to Damian with his hind legs.

“I told you Master Damian. I saw him and thought of you.”

Damian furrowed his brow at Alfred. “Why were you thinking of me?”

“I’m always thinking of you, and your Father, and the boys,” Alfred smiled.

“Because it’s your job.”

“No, because you are all my family and I want to see you happy.”

“We’re your family?”

“Of course, my dear boy. This role that I have here at the Manor is more than just a job to me. Surely, you know that, Master Damian.”

Damian thought back to all the times that Pennyworth had taken care of him and yes, it was his job as the butler to take care of things in the household and by extension the people who lived in the house. But one thing Damian didn’t account for were the times Alfred took special care in remembering things that each of them liked, didn’t like, or couldn’t tolerate.

Pennyworth never once made Damian feel bad or force him to eat meat once he decided to be a vegetarian. Instead he altered recipes and respected Damian’s choice and helped him with his new chosen lifestyle.

Since the day Damian had arrived at Wayne Manor, Pennyworth had been patient with him, respected him and his space. There was no agenda, no act, no conditions.

Pennyworth cared for them all beyond just his role as the butler. His protectiveness for them was more like how a father cares for his children. Did that mean that Pennyworth thought of him, Grayson, Todd and Drake as his grandsons?

“The cat was a gift from me to you, Master Damian. Because I felt he needed you and that you needed him.

Pennyworth came over to the floor and stroked Alfred’s head lightly.

“I always regretted not getting a pet for your father when he was young. He could have used the distraction and responsibility of caring for a pet to cope with his grief. I saw how well you responded to the task of caring for animals and I felt it was an attribute that should be nurtured. I made the executive decision to add another animal to your growing menagerie.”

“I am not grieving,” Damian retorted.

“Not in the same sense as your father did back then, but you have been through a rather difficult transition. You are adapting to a new lifestyle far removed from the way you had been previously reared. New expectations have also been set upon you now that you are here with your Father; that in itself is much to take in at such a young age.”

“You forget, Pennyworth. I am not a child.”

Pennyworth smiled. “You may have been raised to not think of yourself as a child, but don’t be so quick to grow up. Allow yourself some childhood trivialities. I’m sure there are many that you have yet to experience. Most importantly let others look after you, like me, your Father, and Master Dick.”

Damian nodded.

“Why do you care so much if I’m happy?” Damian asked, ashamed of the vulnerability in his voice.

He regretted the question immediately once the words left his mouth, but he couldn’t take it back. Alfred put his arm around Damian and squeezed him in a side hug.

“Grandads always care to make sure that their grandchildren are loved and happy,” Pennyworth answered, placing a kiss on Damian’s head.

Damian looked up at him. “You see me as a grandson?”

“Since the moment you walked through our doors, Master Damian.”

“But I was so awful to you.”

Alfred smiled and leaned his cheek onto Damian’s head. “I saw potential. Now what do you say to some cookies and hot chocolate?”

Damian laughed and followed Alfred toward the kitchen.

#Damian Wayne #Alfred Pennyworth #batman #batfic #teeth rotting fluff #my fics #DamianLovesHisGrandpa2020 #writing challenge #robin #batfamily #dc comics #dc #yeetdc2020

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jinmukangwrites · 4 years

Text

Whumptober Day 15

Science Gone Wrong

Ao3

-o-o-o-o-

It really wasn't everyday that Jason found himself teaming up with a bat. Let alone that bat being none other than Robin. But here he was, punching the noses of various villainous evil-dooers in the nose with Damian—the shortest stack to ever exist—fighting right beside him.

Jason wouldn't be one to really complain about it though. He may not have the most lovey-dovey big-bro relationship with the squirt, but recently Damian could be known to be at least civil with him. They kinda got the sibling bit down, and Jason was alright with that, he didn't want to go anymore into that.

And really, it wasn't like this team up was planned or anything. Jason simply ended up patrolling Crime Alley and happened across a group of gangsters cornering some poor hooker. He was in the middle of taking them down when Robin jumped in out of nowhere, saying it looked like Jason could use the help in his better-than-thou-but-joking-about-it tone of voice.

Which whatever. Jason could handle the brat any day. As long as him being here didn't mean the big man was around, Jason was alright with letting the kid stick around. Damian wasn't all bad. He had his quirks, yeah, but can't look a gift horse in the mouth, especially when that gift horse had two swords and knew how to use them.

Jason ducked under the swinging arm of one of the gangsters, then propelled himself forward to punch them in the gut.

The gangster went down like a crashing tree, but Jason didn't stick around long enough to listen. He turned around, looking for another opponent—which there was still plenty of—but he stopped in his tracks when he saw Robin involved in a furious fight with a rather large contender, focused on the task of hand and not noticing the thug coming up from behind with a tire iron raised in his hands like a baseball bat.

"Robin!" Jason called, but it was too late. With a loud thump, the metal bar was swung into the middle of Damian's back, causing the kid to call out and fall to the ground. Jason yelled angrily and ran forward, punching the man who hit Damian hard enough to where he probably saw stars dotting the cloudy atmosphere.

Jason made quick work with the others, no longer somewhat enjoying the fight and now just wanting it to end. Soon enough, Jason returned to where Damian laid on the ground, curled up and not making any moves to get up.

Confusion settled in Jason's gut at the sight of it. He knew the kid got hit pretty hard, but not that hard… right?

"Robin?" Jason asked, kneeling down and bringing his hand out to shake his shoulders. However, the moment Jason touched Damian, the kid whimpered.

"Don't-" Damian gasped, his voice laced with so much pain that Jason pulled his hand back like he’d just burned the kid. Damian didn't move after that, just took staccato breaths.

Okay, now Jason was concerned. He left Damian alone for the moment and moved to turn on the comms. Spinal injuries were never something to disregard or ignore, no matter how badly Jason didn't want to deal with Bruce at the moment.

"Hood to Cave," he said, "we’ve got a downed Robin."

Nothing replied for a moment, but when the noise did start, it was chaos. Jason realized just as it was too late that he should have worded that a bit better.

"What happened?!" Came the first voice. Dick's, shockingly enough. Didn't know he was in Gotham. Huh.

However, before he could answer, the grumbling voice of Bruce interrupted. "I'm on my way to your location, stay where you are."

“-is he okay? Is he bleeding?" Dick sounded close to hysterical. "Should we get the medbay ready- can I talk to him-?"

"Wing," Jason snapped, a headache beginning to form behind his eyes. "Someone got a lucky swing on his back. I think something's wrong with his spine, so yeah, medbay would probably be good."

"His spine?" Dick squeaked.

"Robin's armor is heavily padded and nearly bulletproof," Batman growled, and that headache Jason was talking about earlier was spreading toward his temples now. "A hit with the swinging force of a human shouldn't have done that kind of damage."

"Yeah, well, you tell that to the kid who hasn't moved from the ground since he went down," Jason snarled. Damian hadn't moved an inch since Jason started this practically redundant conversation.

Silence fills the line; Jason, because there wasn't much more to say. Bruce, because he was single-mindedly making his way towards their location, probably with the Batmobile in tow. Dick, because… why was Dick so quiet?

"Big bird?"

A moment of silence. Then an exhale. "Jay, you remember Eduardo Flamingo? Back when I was Batman?"

Something cold slithered into Jason's chest cavity. Not because the Flamingo was any kind of particularly horrible villain, but because the whole entire fiasco that took place that short few years ago was something he wasn't proud of. At the time, Jason honestly thought he was simply doing what needed to be done. Flamingo came to Gotham looking for a fight. He shattered Jason's helmet, almost got Scarlet killed, and…

And shot Damian five times, as close to point blank as you can get, right into his back.

Jason's thoughts roared as Dick explained to Bruce what happened. At the time, he hardly even noticed Damian laying in a pool of his own blood. He was too busy getting arrested and worrying about where Scarlet ran off to. He remembered feeling a little bit of confusion seeing the kid a few months after, flipping around and fighting the same as always, but he didn't really care at the time.

"After that… Talia took Damian and surgically inserted a new, artificial spine-"

How far gone was Jason all those years ago to have noticed?

"Turned out Talia had engendered some sort of remote into his spine. She had Deathstroke control him and use him to try to kill me-"

Protecting children and innocent people. Hadn't that always been his thing? Why didn't Damian ever count as a child? He saw him in that bloody pool, yet all he did was brag to Dick about how he dumped a tractor load of rubble onto the Flamingo, like it was something to be proud of.

"But we got it fixed. Decoded. I broke the machine they were using to control him too."

"Why is it hurting him like this now?" Jason asked, his voice oddly level. "If Talia made him a new spine, it should be in mint condition."

"Spinal injuries never go away, Hood," Batman said, and as much as Jason wanted to argue he also knew he really didn't have any high ground here. Not when the man who said that had his back broken by Bane. "What I'm wondering is why Nightwing never told us."

Jason could practically feel Dick bristle. And as much as Jason would love to listen to Dick yell at Bruce about how he's never noticed, Damian was beginning to try and shift. Little whimpers escaped his mouth, which was such an un-Damian sound that he almost couldn't believe he heard them.

"Kid?" He asked, ignoring Dick snap back at Bruce in favor of checking on the young boy below him.

"I'm fine," Damian hissed through clenched teeth. There were tears escaping the bottom parts of his mask. Jason wondered if he noticed. "Sometimes… sometimes it's like this."

Jason frowned. "Hey, try not to move too much, okay? Your old man is on his way-"

"I said I'm fine," Damian snapped. His eyes flickered up to Jason in a very pain laced glare. "My mother constructed my spine and inserted it inside me with technology beyond our time. It's strong and- hnn- durable. B-but sometimes it just..."

Jason's never heard Damian cry before. And while Damian wasn't necessarily crying now, he still sounded close to it. That must be testament to how agonizing a spinal wound could be. It's probably one of the most important parts of your body… so of course once it got damaged it would never be the same again. Even if the spine was completely replaced with something new and stronger.

"What…" Jason tried, guilt gnawing at the back of his mind. He might not have shot Damian, but this might as well be his fault. Flamingo was his problem. Damian shouldn't have been involved. He swallowed. "What do you need me to do?"

Damian bit his lip, his face scrunching up into immediate uncertainty. Like he knew exactly what would make this all a little more bearable but he was too afraid to ask.

Well… ask Jason. Because everyone knew Jason wasn't the world's best older brother. Points for trying though, right?

Then, shocking Jason, Damian opened his mouth. "Could you… play with my hair?"

Of course. Dick was rubbing off on the little tyke. Jason should have expected that they'd find similar preferred ways to be comforted. Well, maybe it wasn't the whole hair thing, but the need to be touched gently. Softly. And with Damian's spine aching the way it was, Jason doubted there was any place in his body besides his scalp that didn't pulse with agony.

"Sure," Jason replied, almost shocking himself. It was awkward, initially, placing his fingers into Damian's hair and running his digits though the stands. Though, when he saw Damian close his eyes and release a shaky, almost relaxed breath, he decided he wouldn't stop no matter what.

Jason had been an awful big brother for so long. He could do this much right? Like… this was all technically his fault after all.

Okay, now he felt really guilty. He gave Dick and Damian so much shit back then. Yeah, he wasn't in his right mind back then, and honestly now he could see why Dick worked so hard to get him in Arkham. He killed a lot of people and constantly fought with Dick. He was problematic to the highest extent. Dick saw that and made sure Jason would go somewhere he'd be safe from others and himself. At the time, he hated it. He hated being in the same place they would lock the Joker up at, or Two-Face, or Killer Croc. Even though Joker wasn't even there he could still hear his laughter while laying in his private cell.

But Dick did make sure Arkham was up to standards. He was anal about it. Jason was safe, comfortable, fed, treated well by the guards. The horrors of the prison were all in his head.

And how did Jason repay him?

By letting his kid get shot in the back five times.

Jason never said sorry about that, hadn't he?

There was the sound of shrieking tires from behind, and soon enough the Batmobile came to a screeching stop. The drivers door practically shot open as Bruce ran out, dragging a backboard similar to the ones lifeguards and paramedics used with him.

"Are you alright?" Bruce asked, and Damian opened his eyes for a moment, before shaking his head ever so slightly and squeezing his eyes shut again.

Jason could feel Bruce turn his gaze toward him, but he kept his eyes on Damian. He had never seen Damian admit to pain and weakness like that before.

This was his fault.

"Let's get him back to the manor," Jason said, clearing his throat.

Bruce nodded and leaned down to explain to Damian what they were about to do, and how much it was probably going to hurt. Getting Damian into a neck brace and onto the backboard was a struggle and a half, ending up with Damian openly crying while on the road back.

And Jason hated it. Damian wasn't supposed to cry.

By the time they made it to the Batcave and Alfred rushed on to assist Bruce with x-rays, Jason's regret was practically eating him alive. He stood back near the bat computer trying to convince himself that he didn't care as much as it felt like he did. He should go, right? Go back to his home-base and pretend he didn't see and learn what he did tonight?

He was in the middle of planning his escape when Dick came up to Jason. He was on crutches, his left foot covered in a heavy cast. So that was why he was not only on Gotham, but working the computers. Jason… didn't know.

"Hey," Dick greeted, smiling. "Thanks for calling Damian's injury in."

Jason nodded sharply, but said nothing. Dick sighed and hobbled closer and placed a hand on Jason's shoulder. His face melted into sympathy and Jason remembered that Dick was the biggest empath in the entire world, second most to Raven, an actual empath.

"Neither of us blame you for what Flamingo or Talia did, Jason," he said, "I know I said some harsh stuff to you back then… but neither of us were in the right place, ya know? I'm sorry for that. I should have-"

"You did the best you could do," Jason replied, surprising himself. Jason cleared his throat and looked to the ground. "I deserved you yelling at me."

A moment of companionable silence passed, and soon Dick had Jason's shoulder a friendly squeeze then let go. "Good thing we're better now, huh? Learn from our mistakes."

Jason nodded, this ooey-gooey emotion talk becoming a little too much. Thankfully, Dick didn't push him any further or heaven forbid hug Jason.

"C'mon," Dick said, his face going back to a bright smile, "you and I are going to go to the nearest Walgreens and get some heat pads for Damian. There's also a Redbox near where we're heading, so we can grab a couple movies." Dick jerked his head over at the exit of the cave, "I'll let you drive."

"Fine," Jason grumbled, stuffing his hands into his jacket and glaring. He'd have to get dressed quick, but his old bedroom should have something stuffed in there. Jason hardly spent the night here, but Bruce did have a knack for being prepared for the impossible. "And it's not like I'll let ya drive anyway. Your whole foot is broken. How'd you do that anyway?"

Dick immediately began to launch into an exciting story about half human half ostrich hybrids that tried to take over downtown Blüdhaven and honestly? Jason didn't listen past that because of course Dick broke his foot doing something that sounded completely fake. He looked towards the medbay before he left and saw Damian laying in a cot, still curled up but looking a little more relaxed now that he's on something soft and being worried over by both Bruce and Alfred. Jason was about to walk away, but stopped in his tracks when Damian caught his eye. Green eyes stared at Jason with an intensity that had Jason keep the gaze.

Then something even more rare than Damian crying happened. Damian's lips twitched into a slight, thankful smile. A smile… directed at him. A smile that said thank you and I forgive you and don't blame yourself. Jason had never really seen fully what Dick was talking about when he said at his core, Damian was a kid like any other. He’d only catched glimpses of it.

Damian could smile huh?

Huh.

Dick called his name and he was knocked out of his thoughts. Jason cleared his throat, nodded, then broke eye contact with the kid. He walked away before he could do something crazy, like hug him goodbye. That would be too out of character for the both of them… but… maybe someday.

#damian wayne #jason todd #robin #red hood #dc #dc comics #batman comics #fic #fanfiction #jin writes #whumptober2020 #no.15 #Science Gone Wrong #past injury #body modification tw #canon typical violence

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srose-foxfire · 3 years

Note

Can you do write something of Dami and Rae being separated and then meeting again after x amount of years? Make it fluffy please. thnx!!

A/N: I hope this is fluffy? Enjoy! (P.S I’m sorry this is long)

~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~

“I want you to keep this safe for me. This will be my promise to you that I will return.”

“I will guard it with my life Raven.”

“Thank you, Damian.”She said softly with a smile and slowly turned her back to him and walked toward the blinding light before her. Damian’s heart quicken making it hard to breathe. She was leaving him again; he had been down this road one-too many times and he couldn’t let her leave him.

Damian reached out to grab her, but it seemed he couldn’t get to her. He looked down and saw both his feet were glued to the ground. He then tried calling out her name, but no words came. He strained to make just a single sound, he reached out again to just touchher. To make her look back to him and see how much he neededher in his life. Damian called out again, this time tears started streaming down his face. He continued calling out her name to no avail, she couldn’t hear him as she disappeared into the white blinding light.

-- -- -- --

Damian jerked awake as he gasped for breath, he clutched his aching chest as his heart continue to compress deep within him. His face was soaked by both sweat and tears. Once Damian could collect himself, he settle back into bed and pulled the blanket to cover his naked chest. He rubbed his forehead clean from all the sweat and just stared at the ceiling. His bedroom was illuminated from a small streak of moonlight coming from through the thick dark grey curtains. The light hit a small object on his nightstand making it shine which caused Damian to turn his attention to it.

It was a small black open ring, with a black crescent moon ending on one side and a small black star on the other end. Damian reached and grabbed it, making the small black gems on the crescent and star glimmer under the moonlight. This ring is his sole reminder that Raven will one day return to him. She gave him the ring, the last reminder she had from her mother before she was destroyed as the rest of Azarath by Trigon.

Raven had been gone for nearly seven years now, and not once has Damian been able to get a hold of her. After she had imprisoned her demon father into the sacred crystal on her forehead. Raven started using more of her magic to keep him locked and to suppress his ill-demeanors about her. Raven was fighting him constantly for three years before it started taking a toll on her health. In order to help her, Raven had to leave the Titans and go with Zatanna and John Constantine who were going to help her find a very powerful sacred ground to relocate Trigon’s prison. The two magicians believed they could help continue training Raven in understanding her magic and channeling it from a longer distance so she could have a normal life just like the one she was living around the time Damian had joined the Titans. As much as he wished it, he couldn’t understand why none of her teammates had been allowed to contact her or even help her locate this sacred place.

Damian checked the digital clock on his nightstand, it was 3:00am, he should really go back to sleep and rest up for the long night that waited for him. His father was throwing a masquerade gala to help raise funds for an orphanage. Being a Wayne sometimes came with disadvantages, having to praise and entertain the daughters of partners and businessmen that worked with Wayne Industries. Most girls Damian met weren’t very bright, most of them worried who was wearing the best design dress or who had the best hair and nails done for the night. Damian always pulled through most events but there had been some occasions that some girls would cling onto him like a leech hoping they would end up in his bed. Being Robin, helped him escape those certain leeches.

Putting all these thoughts to the side, Damian couldn’t bring himself to fall asleep fearing he would dream where Raven goes through the light and never returns to him. After Raven’s first year of being gone from the Titans, Damian realized just how much he wanted her to be in his life. It was then he finally understood he actually loved her and would ask Raven to allow him to court her when she finally returned.

-- -- -- --

Could someone just please shoot him down or better yet some emergency rise for Robin to be needed and take Damian Wayne away for this gala. Since everyone was wearing a mask, no one could identify him. He had stood at a distance when his father announced the start of the gala and giving a very moving speech to get everyone to donate. None one and no leechhad seemed to figure out where Bruce Wayne’s youngest son was in the gala. Though he didn’t have to entertain anyone he was terribly alone and bored to his mind.

His so-called brothers ditched him at the last minute, none of them picked up his calls or answer his texts. Tim and Jason were no surprise, they hardly came to any galas or events hosted by Wayne Industries. Dick Grayson however always strides to be the best oldest supportive brother, and when he was supposed to be a goodbrother, he’s a no-show. Next time Damian sees either one of them, they are dead meat.

Looking down again at his phone it was a little pass 9pm, in a few minutes an announcer will announce a small dance will begin. Good thing this time his toes will be sparred. Not wanting to pay attention, Damian accidently caught small talk from two young men talking about which of the two were going to score to take to bed a young lady dressed in white. Damian looked up and examined the two guests, they were both well-dressed though it seems they fed off of their family’s money. Damian narrowed his eyes at them and being very discreet he followed their line of sight to see who they were preying at.

His eyes widen when he saw her. She was dressed in a sleeveless pearl white mermaid dress, following the ‘v’ shape her bosom, it was decorated with white feathers. From her waistline to the bottom of her dress; there were silver embroidery scattered, making her sparkle like starlight. Her skin was pale, but it glowed beautifully under the lighted golden chandeliers. Her hair black as a raven’s feathers was long and curled to her waist. To complement her attire and her beauty she was wearing a white mask, with white feathers fanning out from one corner of her mask.

She was a goddess, among mortals. Damian couldn’t understand why he was so entranced by her, she wasn’t her. And yet he was making his way towards this mysterious woman as someone announced the start of the dance.

“Excuse me, may I have this dance?” Damian asked with the upmost of sincerity he ever gave to an unknown stranger.

“You may.”

Damian had to keep himself from frowning. Even though he was wearing a simple black domino mask someone could notice with how unpleased he was that the mysterious woman had her eyes hidden. He hadn’t noticed before, but the eye area was covered by a thin white lace mesh, making it impossible to see her looking back at him or to even distinguish her eye color.

Damian place his hand on her small back and guided her to the middle of the dancefloor with more people pairing themselves as a pianist started playing some keys on a grand piano to get the waltz started. Soon an accordion and flute joined in.

Being a gentleman, Damian carefully guided her left hand onto his shoulder. His left hand stayed carefully on her back, as his right took her hand in his and started turning them both. Swaying to the music, the two stared into each other, or that was what Damian dreamt was going on as they both got lost to the music. He continues leading her into the waltz, but part of him believed his soul had been lifted from his body and there was no other person in the room. It was just them, dancing.

Not being able to contain his own curiosity Damian cleared his throat, “I must ask, do I know you by any chance? You seem awfully familiar.” His partner looked away for a moment but continue to sway with him to the music. She looked back at him and gave him a faint smile before nodding her head lightly to the sides. “Perhaps I might have seen you at a different gala?” Damian continued.

“Very unlikely, this is actually my first time coming to an event like this.” She answered softly to him.

“Then can I ask for your name?”

“I believe the idea of a masquerade is that you don’t ask for one’s identity. It keeps everyone in a “blissful mystery”, or so I’m told.” She chuckled lightly like she had some inside joke

“You are actually correct, my apologies.” Damian told her as he continued to lead her in circles in the ballroom. They dance for almost half an hour, not speaking to each other but being content in one another’s presence. As the dance continue, Damian had whispered into her ear if she like to go out to the balcony and be away from the crowd, she nodded with a faint smile.

As they exited the dancefloor a cool soft summer breeze blew around them, making the mysterious woman’s long hair sway in rhythm. She reaches out and grabs onto the rail looking down to the busy streets of Gotham, while Damian discreetly admired her from behind. He didn’t know what had gotten to him, he thought he would never find interest in any other woman besides Raven. Part of him feared that he may be forgetting about her or the feelings he believed he had been because of his teenage hormones when Raven had left. Damian took his hand out from his pants pocket and looked at the ring he promised to care for.

“It’s beautiful.”

Damian looked up to find his mysterious woman looking up to the night sky, smiling as she seems to count the countless stars scattered across.

“It is.” Damian answered as he put the ring back into his pocket. “If I may be so bold to ask, why did you come to this event? Are you here for business or-”

The woman in front of him chuckled lightly, before turning to face him. Leaning against the rail, she answered him. “You ask allot of questions… Mr. Wayne.”

“How did-”

“It’s not hard to distinguish you in a masked crowd, given to the fact I’ve seen you wear a similar mask countless nights before.” She turned her head to the side; her left hand reaches the edges of her mask as she slowly pulled it off her head. She kept her eyes looking down, but already Damian’s heart was beating rapidly inside his chest. He continues to look awestruck as she slowly brought her eyes up, looking right into his very soul. Her eyes were amethyst. “Hello Damian.”

A fly could just fly straight into his gaping mouth as Damian continue to stare. He tried counting the countless time he wished for her return. Hoping and praying to whatever god there was to allow him and see her again. The one girl in this world to ever hold his heart in her hand. Finally, his mind was able to wrap around the news and he couldn’t contain himself anymore. “Raven!”

Damian practically sprinted the last two steps to engulf Raven into his arms. He wrapped his arms around her body tightly, making sure this was all real. She gave out a surprised squeaked as her own hands hugged him back. “It’s really is you? Raven Roth you are really here? I am not dreaming?”

“Yes. It’s me. Damian there’s so much I need to tell you and I don’t know where to start-” Damian didn’t let her finish for his lips captured hers. He knew this wasn’t the way to reunite with his friend but the part of him that yearned for her for many years took over his control. He was madly in love with her. Raven was an empath after all, surely, she would be able to read all his thoughts as he continues expressing his feelings for her through this kiss. Never in his life Damian had felt like this; helpless and vulnerable. Yet at the same time that didn’t feel as a bad thing for Raven completed him in a way that made him stronger.

Damian could hear Raven gasping for breath in between kiss. He slowly pulled away and allowed to fill her lungs with air. He felt guilt start to consume him as he realized she may not feel the same towards him. Still having his arms around her said with a low voice, “I couldn’t wait. I am sorry, but I needed you to know how I feel about you. Raven, I love you.”

“Damian.” Raven answered softly as her hands slid up his chest and she looked up into his eyes, “One of the reasons I had to leave was because my father had figured out one of my weaknesses. He found out that I fallen in love with someone I would give my life to protect. It’s you Damian Wayne. I love you too.”

Her warm small hands came up to cradle his face and she slowly pulled him closer to lightly kiss him. They pulled away slowly, Damian could only smile warmly down at her and he reached into his pockets for her ring. “I believe I can finally return this to you.” He looked up to find Raven, had her brow raised at him. Giving him a questioning look. “What?”

“I can’t believe you have it with you, I would assume it would stay in some drawer or a box in your home.” Raven snorted.

“I did promise I guard it with my life, I can’t guard the ring if it’s not near me at all times.” Damian said proudly as he slipped the black ring onto Raven’s finger. “Perfect fit.” He whispered, something about placing the ring onto her finger made it seem like he was branding her. Raven looked up at him, she still had those beautiful amethyst eyes that held galaxies in them, she may look a little different now with fair skin and black hair as night; but she was still his Raven. His Raven.

Damian wanted to show her how much he aged into a man; show her he wasn’t the young teenager she had said goodbye seven years ago. Damian reached up slowly to remove his black domino mask. Just when he was about to grab onto the edge and pull it off, he was stopped by Raven’s hand holding his.

“No. Keep it on. I don’t want anyone finding out I’m with Damian Wayne.” Raven let go of his hand, she trailed the tip of her finger down his chest, before poking where his heart was. “I want to be a little selfish tonight and keep you all to myself.” She reached up and give him a gentle peck on his cheek.

“I am all yours, my love.”

-- -- -- --

A/N: Wowzers can’t believe how long this took me to write. You wouldn’t believe how much I rewrote and rewrote this prompt countless times till I was able to pick one idea that best fitted with what I wanted to portray. I have another requested prompt asking about their first date, so that will be the next one you will read by me. After finishing the requests I will get back to finishing “First Impressions” and updating “Under an Autumn Moonlight”. After that I am gonna try my hand and share with you the first chapters for one of my Damirae longer fics I have planned. Hope you are excited as I am to share this story with you all.

Thank you so much for readying, till next time!

~ S.Rose

#damirae

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