#i wanna go into heavier detail than this…
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JJK AND THEIR COFFEE ORDERS
sk8 the infinity ver. here !
nobara is definitely a frappuccino girly. love, love, loves sugar cookie flavouring, too, in a large cup with a straw because “it feels like i’m a girlboss that way.” she said it, not me.
yuuji is pretty picky with his coffee? isn’t a huge fan of it, but when he does have it, it’s a double-double accompanied by a pastry. he doesn’t adventure too far from his usual order, other than trying out a new or seasonal drink.
megumi drinks it black. straight from the beans. foul creature.
geto gives hazelnut syrup vibes… don’t worry, i will elaborate. he likes an espresso shot with latte foam art and steamed oat milk, all mixed together with two pumps of hazelnut syrup. otherwise, he’s mostly a tea person.
gojo doesn’t even want to taste the coffee’s bitter flavour… he wants it completely masked by sugar and by sugar alone. four-milk-six-sugar-in-a-medium sort of man. drinking straight candy, is what it is.
nanami was a religious coffee drinker back when he worked that 9-5, so he was not particularly partial to any coffee order if the caffeine was doing its job. as long as it didn’t taste like burnt shit water, he doesn’t care all too much. enjoys a nice café trip where he can sit and relax every now and then.
maki is a cold brew enthusiast, but also drinks it black (as in, no milk), though takes a few vanilla shots with it and another sweetener. likes the essence of the coffee taste, but mostly prefers sweetness over the bitterness.
inumaki is an avid iced coffee fan to the point where sub-arctic conditions do not daunt him. he usually rotates his order from an iced psl or mocha with maki or yuuta to order for him (for obvious reasons). he’ll down whatever size they give him. insanity.
yuuta reacts so poorly to caffeine, it’s hilarious in hindsight but i can’t help but pity him… poor boy is already anxious enough as it is, he can’t tell the difference between the coffee jitters and his usual shakiness. plus, he gets the shits. doesn’t like it, but will have one the rare occasion.
panda doesn’t drink coffee. he’s a panda.
mahito would spit it out immediately along with a vile string of profanities if he ever got the chance to even try coffee.
kenjaku (using geto) hated the idea that he was getting used to drinking something so gently-flavored and sweet. had it anyways, but would always order tea if given the choice.
#i wanna go into heavier detail than this…#i want to do a deep dive into geto’s love of tea#a full on essay#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#gojo satoru#geto suguru#satosugu#geto#gojo#nanami kento#nanami#nobara kugisaki#itadori yuuji#megumi fushiguro#inumaki toge#maki zenin#kenjaku
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I love your Husk pieces! He's my favorite =^.^= I wanna hug the shit out of him 😆
If you have time, could you do one where Charlie planned a movie night for "bonding" lol and the reader ends up falling asleep on Husk? Everyone ships them and encourages him to confess to her? So much fluff please! Thanks hon! ^.^
A/N: This is so adorable!! Love this! I hope you enjoy! XD
Pairing: Husk x fem!Reader
“Until I Smile at You” - Husk x Reader
After living at the Hazbin Hotel for a while, Charlie’s “trust exercises” had become less of an annoying nuisance and simply a part of daily life. Actually, they were kind of refreshing and - dare you say - fun! They ranged from trust falls and share circles to your personal favorite - movie night. Movie night happened once a week and every week the person who chose the movie rotated. This week was supposed to be Angel’s turn, but ever since he chose his movie to be the most graphic porn anybody had ever had the displeasure of seeing, he was banned from choosing the movies. Instead of Angel, the group decided to let Alastor choose. He was always a marvel, as his movies ranged from silent films to disgustingly gorey horror movies. Tonight, however, he picked a noir detective film that he enjoyed while he was still alive (not before endlessly complaining about how radio is the superior media form, though).
One thing that nobody could stand about Alastor’s movies was how much he talked during them. I guess it's because he's so used to working in radio that he cannot comprehend that maybe, just maybe, not everybody wants to hear his voice all the time. He would either explain every little detail about the leading actors or talk about a living memory that he associated with the specific scene. This night, though, Alastor seemed so enamored by the movie that he was completely silent. You were sitting on the couch with Alastor, Angel, and Husk, and found your eyes getting slightly heavier with every passing minute. The combination of the dark room, boring movie, and precious silence was just what you needed to drift into a peaceful slumber. Slowly resting your head and body on the irresistibly soft and warm cat demon beside you, your consciousness fades in and out until your mind is finally met with sleep.
The second Husk felt your head meet his shoulder in a gentle embrace, he froze. He had only ever imagined this happening, and was nowhere near prepared for it to actually happen tonight. Despite his hard and tough facade, Husk craved nothing more than soft affection, and knowing that you trusted him enough to not disturb your slumber flattered him. He remained completely still (so as not to wake you) for more than an hour until the movie finished. Charlie, using the remote to find another movie, said,
“Thank you guys for spending tonight with me! This was amazing! I think I’m going to put on another movie, if anybody wants to stay down here, but you’re welcome to go upstairs and go to slee-'' she is cut off when she turns around to see you asleep on Husk, practically beaming with joy. “AWWWWW-” she is cut off by Husk’s “Shh!”, partially because he is embarrassed but also because he doesn’t want you to wake up in embarrassment. This caused everybody’s attention to turn to the two of you, not quite as surprised as Charlie.
“I mean, are we shocked? He’s been fawning over Y/N ever since she moved in. Don’t shame the poor guy…” Angel says in a mocking tone.
Everyone’s eyes slightly divert, not wanting to completely show that Husk’s attraction to Y/N is anything short of obvious.
“Shut the fuck up, man” Husk replies.
“I’m not saying that she’s told me that she likes you back… buuuuut you should definitely just tell her. Trust me.” Charlie says, literally gleaming with excitement.
Hearing this, Husk’s insides flip, his internal monologue running wild.
‘Did she- does she- could Y/N actually like someone like me? She’s just so… perfect. I don’t deserve her. But - let’s just - don’t get your hopes up, man. This could just be Charlie being Charlie, saying shit to make people leave their comfort zones or something.’
“Alright idiots, let’s not wake her up.” he says, sighing and gently picking you up.
“I hear a single word about this tomorrow, and I’ll kill ya.” he says, while quietly walking to your room.
He rolls his eyes while listening to Angel making fun of him and Charlie trying earnestly to defend you guys, saying something along the lines of “But this is how Vaggie and I started to fall in love!”
Opening your door as quietly as possible, he gently places you down on your bed. Covering you with blankets, he turns to leave until he hears your soft voice call to him:
“Was all that stuff they said about you true?”
Shit. You heard? Should he deny it? Pretend he didn’t even hear you?
“What?”
Deny it is.
“The stuff that Charlie and Angel said… about you liking me. Is that true?” you ask.
“I don’t know what kind of dream you were having, but everyone was dead silent during the movie, because, yknow, bonding time or whatever.”
He was avoiding your gaze until now, hoping that you would just accept the lie and go back to sleep. Instead, when he looked at you, he was met with your disbelieving face staring right back at him.
“Mhm.” you say sarcastically.
Moments of awkward silence lead to Husk trying to make a quick escape, muttering goodnight and walking to your door. He’s halfway out of the doorway when he hears your voice again.
“It’s a shame, I was hoping that what they were saying was true.” you say teasingly, just loud enough for him to come back into the room.
“What did you say?” he asks.
“Oh, nothing” you reply, smugly.
“Don’t do that.” he says, clearly intrigued but trying to seem annoyed.
“Do what?” you say, teasingly.
“Satan, just tell me what you said. I don’t like playing games.” he says.
“Oh, but, clearly you do, if you’ve been ‘fawning’ over me since the day I've walked in, yet.. said nothing.”
He looks - embarrassed. Almost hurt.
“Fine, yeah, I like you. No need to rub it in and be an asshole about it, I know you don’t like me.”
You look at his diverting eyes and immediately regret your teasing tone.
“Oh, Husk, I wasn’t making fun of you, I was just being stupid. Come here.” you say, patting the spot next to you on the bed.
He sits next to you, looking confused.
“Here.” you say, while holding his hands in yours.
“Listen. I wasn’t trying to embarrass you. I’m sorry if it came across that way. I mean, obviously I like you too. Was it not clear?” you giggle.
Husk’s eyes widened in shock.
“What- I mea- You like me? Why?” he blurts out.
“Why? Come on, don’t be dumb. You’re the funniest person I know, you’re always willing to listen to me, and you’ve never once turned me away when I needed help. And, you're truly handsome, but that’s just a bonus. You’ve made being trapped in Hell actually enjoyable, which is something that you should be proud of. I wake up everyday excited to see you, to talk to you. I just wish you would've told me that you liked me sooner (and yourself)” you say.
Husk’s eyes are glued on you like you’re the last thing he’ll ever see, like he has to memorize your every feature before he blinks. He has never been more enamored with anybody before.
In lack of a better response, all he can blurt out is, “Thank you!?”
You giggle, a slight blush creeping up your face.
“And you are clearly tired. How about you sleep in here tonight? We can cuddle, or talk, or just sit with each other.” you ask.
“That - That sounds great.” he says, truly letting his guard down for the first time in years. As he lays next to you, finally becoming truly comfortable, he swears that he can see a white, fuzzy hand holding a phone by the slightly-ajar door.
“Angel, if that’s you by that door right now, you’re gonna want to run.”
You can hear the spider’s screams of “I GOT IT GUYS! THE FULL VIDEO!! AHAHAHAHA!” as Husk reluctantly leaves the bed.
“Excuse me,” he says, “I’m gonna go take care of this. I’ll be back.”
As he leaves, you start to realize how you got from the couch to the bed in the first place. Smiling to yourself, you savor the fact that, though you were condemned to eternal damnation, these people that you have found could not have created a better heaven for you.
#husk x reader#hazbin hotel husk#husker#husker dust#huskerdust#loser baby#husker hazbin hotel#helluva boss#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel imagine#hazbin hotel oneshots#husk imagine#husk oneshot#charlie morningstar#charlie hazbin hotel#angel dust#alastor#nifty hazbin hotel#sir pentious#cherri bomb#vaggie#vox#husker x reader#helluva boss x reader#husk x y/n#husk x you#hazbin hotel x y/n#hazbin hotel x you
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Apologies — Lucifer X Fem!Reader
Warnings: Mentions of tragic death, mentions of assault, insinuation of a mental breakdown, Angel being a caring and kinky bestie, Fat Nuggets being an absolute sweetheart, Lucifer being a mess, fluff, brief sexual innuendos.
Word Count: 1.3K
Summary: You got into an argument with Lucifer and it ended with you walking out.
It had been a stupid argument that caused you to walk out before you could say something you'd regret. It hadn't been stupid to you, but rather Lucifer described it as stupid.
He realized his mistake the moment your eyes widened, filled with tears and you walked out the door without another word. He followed you, but it was too late. You were gone from his sight and you could be anywhere, especially with your long list of contacts and insane ability to hide in the shadows.
You opened up to him about the way you died. Ten years you had been in hell and told nobody how you met your tragic end. Nobody asked. Not until Lucifer, not until today.
The details of your captors drugging, breaking, and killing you slowly to avenge their friend who you accidentally killed, to save you and your best friend from being assaulted, came out.
Kicking. Screaming. Turning your throat raw with emotion, they came out.
You weren't even sure how it had turned into an argument, when your boyfriend of a year was the one who wanted to know.
Before you knew it, you found yourself at the hotel. It was the safest place to go, you thought. Charlie was thankfully out for the day, having mentioned over breakfast that she was taking Vaggie to the only art gallery in the Pride Ring.
The doors slammed behind you as you attempted to reign in your emotions. It didn't matter what you did, hot tears streamed down your face and your hands trembled with every step.
Angel reached you just in time for your legs to give out. He caught you and held you close, having never seen you like that before. His first instinct was to question you on what happened, but he could feel your sobs becoming heavier.
He scooped you up easily and got you upstairs to his room, asking that nobody says a word about you being there. If asked, nobody had seen you since breakfast.
Angel Dust rubbed circles on your back, like you had done for him many times, as he waited for you to calm down and regulate your breathing enough to speak clearly.
For him, it felt odd being the one to give comfort, rather than receiving it from you.
"You wanna tell me what happened, Toots? Coming in like that, you got me all worried."
You turned your head to the side and sniffled, embarrassment creeping in at the fact that your best friend had just seen you have a breakdown. And you had cried into the fluff of his chest so easily, as if you had done it a dozen times.
You stayed silent for another couple moments, not yet trusting yourself to speak without a trembling voice.
He kept rubbing circles on your back, just like you always did when he needed an extra moment or two to compose himself after a particularly rough session at the studio.
"I told him how I died." You said. Your voice was so quiet and defeated that Angel almost missed it. He would've, had he not been waiting to hear your voice.
It didn't take a rocket scientist for him to know that you meant Lucifer. After all, you spent most of your free time with him and the rest of it was helping out at the hotel (mostly keeping an eye on Alastor).
"It didn't go well?" Angel asked. You shook your head and inhaled a shaky breath.
"We ended up arguing — I couldn't even tell you about what, but he said the argument was stupid. . . I guess he was right. The argument was stupid and so am I, for even thinking —"
"Hey, you're not stupid." Angel firmly cut you off. His tone of voice caught you by surprise. "You're one of the smartest sinners I know, and that's saying something because I know some real dumb fucks that would blow your fuckin' mind, Toots."
You went silent again. Angel sighed.
"Listen, you don't have to tell me how you died. I'd never pressure you to, just like you never pressured me to tell you. . . But as your best friend in all of hell, I'm obligated to tell you that you shouldn't hide from your problems."
"That's kinda my thing, though." You sighed.
"I know. But you'll have to talk to him eventually." He untangled his limbs from yours and gently lifted you so that he could lay you on his bed. "I'm gonna grab something from the kitchen for you, alright? Get some rest. You cried for like an hour."
You adjusted yourself until you were in a comfortable position. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be. I'll be back." He scratched Fat Nuggets head before he slipped out of the room.
The plump little pig easily maneuvered the bed, grunting with each step until he landed in front of your face and licked your nose. You couldn't help but smile at the adorable creature.
"Hey, Nuggs. . ." You cooed, allowing the little pig to lay himself against your chest.
You didn't even notice that his warmth lulled you to sleep until a glass of water and a pastry of sorts being set on the bedside table roused you from your light slumber.
"Hey, you." You stretched your stiff muscles as you greeted your friend. How much time had passed? It couldn't have been more than five minutes, right?
Angel didn't hesitate to get straight to the point as he saw you were feeling far better than you had been when you arrived.
"The short king is here. He wants to see you, doesn't believe you're not here."
You groaned and sat up, reaching for the water and pastry. The water chilled your throat and the small fruit pastry calmed the hunger that had apparently been there all afternoon.
"What do I do?" You ask once you've finished.
"Suck his dick or let him eat you out, I don't know, somethin'. You do better with this therapy shit than I do."
You groan once again as you stand from the bed, finally deciding to talk to him. Angel was right. You were better at the therapy shit than he was. He was there for you and tried his best. That was all that mattered.
You purposely took your time getting to the lobby, trying to go over what you wanted to say in your head.
But once you got down there and Lucifer laid eyes on you, he sprung into action, rushing over to pull you into his arms.
"[Y/N]! Honey, baby, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean for any of that to happen the way it did! I don't care — I mean, I do," he stuttered nervously. "What I'm trying to say is, I'm sorry and I love you. Please forgive me! I never want to see you look at me like that again, I'm sorry. . ."
The words came out so quickly that you barely had the brain power to understand what he was saying, but it clicked soon and you wrapped your arms around him.
"I forgive you. . . I shouldn't have walked out, so I'm sorry too. . . I love you so much. . ."
Lucifer released his hold on you enough to get a good look at your face. "Never apologize for something you have the right to feel some way about."
You smile softly and cup his cheeks with both hands, pressing a quick kiss square on his lips.
He groaned the moment you pulled away. "Then you do the same, Luci. . . Can we please discuss murder plans over dinner from that place you told me about that just reopened down the street?" You ask sweetly.
"Absolutely we can! Anything you want, honey, it's yours. Anything at all." He promised with a broad smile. He had a feeling that he knew which murders you were planning, especially since he had been planning them the entire time you were telling him your story.
You knew he was already two steps ahead. That was good enough for you.
#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin lucifer#hazbin hotel lucifer#lucifer hazbin x reader#fem reader#lucifer hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel
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Rebirth.
Billy’s first time with you.
※ Bottom Billy Hargrove/Top Male Reader
※ 11,270 words
※ Personal work (not request).
※ Content & warnings: First time bottoming. Crying during sex. Angst. Light D/s dynamics (Sub Billy Hargrove/Dom Male Reader). Emotional sex. Vulnerability. Praise kink. Sort of PWP. Overstimulation.
※ Both characters are 18 or older.
※ Work available only on Tumblr and under ArchiveOfOurOwn pseud of the same name (DecadentWorld). Do not repost, edit, or redistribute. Do not use for TikTok videos.
※ Warning: this gets real sad, real fast.
“Hey…”, you ask the man after you’ve paused your kissing. “…you okay?”
Currently, you have Billy pressed against the wall next to your bedroom door. Your house’s dim lighting puts this very moment into focus, as though time is concentrated into a needlepoint. There is not a single thing you’d rather be doing than this. Him. The sole fact that he’s yours is already enough to keep you up at night.
His gaze lowers and he looks elsewhere, not at you, never at you at this time. That’s one of the things that drew you in to him like a moth to a flame. That little detail, the fact that, out there, he has to be so very him: boisterous, dangerous, loud, bigger than life… but in this pocket of space you both call home, that he tentatively calls his safe space, he can finally be him: vulnerable, insecure, shy, small.
So he does not look at you, never at you, and rather lowers his head to a side as he nods as a response to your question. There’s a pinched expression in his face that does not go unnoticed by you.
“Y’sure?” Your lips find the left side of his forehead. “You still wanna…?”
Because this is a huge step, isn’t it? It’s what you’ve both been discussing for some time now. He wants to go further. And hell, it wasn’t easy for him to say it at all. Said it somewhat similarly to the way he’s looking right now. Quiet. Meek. Looking elsewhere.
But your boy is so brave. Secretly trembles in the adversity of society’s opinion on people like him and you and still pushes forward with a bold front, told you he wants you to be his first in this aspect.
“Mmm-hmm,” is his answer. He doesn’t notice, of course, but his hands, the ones holding your own arms, which at this time are around his waist, start trembling more and more, a minute thing that only you can perceive.
“Okay.” An easy answer, because you can’t make this complicated to him, not when he’s like this. “We can still stop anytime—”
“Don’t wanna fuckin’ stop.” And, oh, he’s grunting it out now. Now, he’s turned into the spitting image of a cornered animal, and you have to tread carefully. When he’s like this it’s because his emotions are getting the best of him. You know he’s nervous.
Your right hand finds its way to his chin. You lift his face up, until he’s facing you, though his eyes are not quite there yet. Still pointedly looking to his right, to the floor, even as he’s under your intense gaze and visibly getting hotter under the collar, more flustered, his breathing heavier.
“Look at me, Blue.” It’s not quite an order. It will not be unless you both discuss it in depth first.
The few inches you have on him mean he has to —slowly, painstakingly— look up at you, and isn’t that a heady feel? To have such a beautiful man look up in wonder at someone or something bigger than him? Someone who can envelop him completely and seal him away from the world’s horrors?
“This is your call, yeah? I want what you want.” The knuckles of your right hand brush against his pink cheek. He traces the movement with something akin to uncertainty. “And if you, right now, want to flee this house, I won’t stop you.”
“Then why did you stop?” There’s a croak in his voice. His eyes fight to stay on yours, and there’s a shine on them that wasn’t there before. “Why d’you think I wanna stop? Huh?”
You give him a small rueful smile he watches perplexed. “Babe… you haven’t stopped shaking like a leaf since we set foot in my room—”
“No I’m n— I’m not. Shaking.” And his head is back in that position. Not looking at you in any way.
You purse your lips. Your arms that were around his waist again untangle some, until your hands are pressed against the low of his back. His hands, that were holding onto your arms, move with the jostling. At the same time you rub against his back, feeling the littlest squirm against them, you lower your mouth to his cheek.
The gentle treatment compels him to press more of himself against you, still not looking at you properly, but wondering what got into you to hold him like this.
“It’s okay to be nervous.”
“I’m not.”
A gentle kiss on the cheek. A trembling sigh in response. “I know you are, and I’m not judging you for it.” Another kiss, this time lower, on the jaw. “I just want you to know…” A kiss on the jugular, like an animal playing with its prey, and Billy feels as if he were right into the wolf’s fauces with how fast that same vein is beating against your mouth. “…that you don’t have to pretend with me.” One on the juncture of his neck and shoulder and the trembling he’s trying to deny so indubitably only worsens. Then, a series of kisses, tracing that same path backwards, as you punctuate each with a word: “I. Will. Take. Care. Of. You.”
A last kiss on the corner of his mouth, and you have his full attention. Your faces are so close that you could just close your eyes and still feel the heat coming off his.
And his eyes. It’s almost an obsession now. You thought they were blue before, like the gentle waves he could relax on during the quietest pockets of his life before coming to this city. But now. Now they’re somehow accentuated. No longer calm, but the imposing waves during a thunderstorm in the middle of the ocean.
Because the white of his eyes has progressively turned more red and the lighter blue of his eyes could save any lost man at sea.
You don’t comment on this as of now. Just the fact that he’s already like this, and you haven’t done much yet, speaks volumes about how much trust he’s putting into you. The subtle tremble in the space between his eyebrows, the much more visible one of his chin, right under his drooping lips…
You nuzzle your noses together and that somehow seems to be his breaking point. He heaves, blinks in rapid succession, and looks like he’s having a battle with himself, head turning to the side again but coming back, always coming back to you. Then, decided, tilts his head up more, directing those stormy eyes on yours and then your lips.
“You’ll… You’ll take care of me?” His voice is no more than a croak.
In response, your hands seek his. Once they find them, you guide them towards his chest and towards themselves, something that confuses him at first. His arms are now fully folded against himself. Then, your arms encircle his body. You make sure there’s not a breath of space between you.
This is how you envelop him completely. You are his shield, and nothing can get to him.
His heavy breathing is shaky as well. You nuzzle the side of his face and that draws him in.
“Always.”
It seems the waterworks are about to start for him, so he quickly hides it by kissing you, full on the mouth this time.
This is not nervousness over the sex as a physical act, you realize. This is something bigger. You leave this thought aside for a second as you return the kiss with all the affection you can muster. Your arms that are encircling his body start lowering as you leave soft smacks of your lips on his, until they’re only around his waist. But his own arms are still where you left them; he’s afraid of breaking this bubble you created.
Finally, your hands set on his hips. They start caressing the clothed skin there, and, in this moment of catharsis you’ve bestowed upon him you can feel him writhe against your hands, a small, happy thing you notice is grounding him.
His arms are still in the same position when you withdraw. When you do, he chases after you, but quickly retracts in shame.
“Oh, sweetness, you want more?”, you mumble close to his lips, noticing how he sighs in pleasure at this.
So you give him more. One short kiss against his lips, two more, loud smacking noises in the silent room, and then a small bite on his lower lip that makes his body vibrate.
He withdraws with a loud gasp but does not stop looking at you in yearning. His hands finally lower to find yours and he guides them to his heaving chest. His chest, the most of which is uncovered, since the man can absolutely not wear a shirt without undoing at least three of its buttons.
Billy is so brave, so good to you, he made the first move to let you know it’s okay to have this, to have him. Your hands find the hairless skin and the contact is electric. He heaves heavy breath after breath and can’t seem to decide whether to look at you or at the point of contact, because your hands feel so good on him, on his chest, such an unassuming place that would bring him so much pleasure. And his chest is so warm, too. Your fingers splay over the upper part of it, and you can’t believe how much heat irradiates off him. The tips of your fingers manage to touch his clavicles while the lowest parts of your palms press softly lower down his chest. And —this is what gets you the most— Billy blushes everywhere. The center of his chest is such a beautiful shade of pink, the same or similar to the one on his freckled face, that you just can’t help but rub both hands on the expanse of his pectorals. You feverishly wonder if your hands can leave a brand on his skin, because it seems to be turning an ever darkening shade, and you realize it’s only your own effect on Billy’s sensitive skin.
His hands have been holding onto your wrists, directing only at first but now just resting there, or holding on for dear life, you can’t tell. The only thing you understand is that you have to get your hands —and your mouth, dear god. Your mouth— on those pretty pink nipples, so you start a slow, sinful massage of your fingertips over the meat of his pecs, something that seems to agitate him even more with how heavy he’s breathing now. His mouth is open, he’s fully looking at you now, like he can’t believe his life has finally lead to this point.
And then, the palms of your hands graze across his nipples, and his body seizes. He makes this small, broken noise that catches your attention, and he doesn’t want you to look at him, he seems so embarrassed, as if he doesn’t want you to see how affected he is with just this. But you’re ruthless in your mercy, and bring your face closer to his, nuzzling close to his nose again, and he’s wordless as you begin a sensual massage from the center of those two pleasure points outwards, the entirety of your hands on him.
Another broken noise, this time more choked off than the first one. Your faces are so close together that it would only take a small push to kiss again, but you don’t. Your lips are right there, barely coming in contact with his, not kissing while you continue this erotic touch, and you’re now basically breathing the same air. You have an exhilarating thought: maybe he’s more pent up about the fact that you won’t close the distance between your lips than about the fact that you’re outright feeling up his chest. Because, truly, his desire only grows bigger when it’s not acted upon.
Your hands lower to the sides of his chest, underneath his shirt. Your thumbs press against his nipples.
His body curls into you, and then his head knocks against the wall behind him, and you can perfectly see the expression he makes and hear the song he sings for you and you just…
You’re the one to cave in. This kiss is a masterpiece of a choreography: the force of it almost knocks him back against the wall. His hands hold onto your wrists for dear life as he feels his body move on its own, a writhing of his spine against those burning points of contact on his nipples. Then, for the next dance steps: your thumbs start rubbing circles on those pretty pinks. At the same, he, as if synchronized, opens his mouth just in time for you to push your tongue into it, rubbing circles against his own tongue in a similar fashion to the way you’re touching him below. And doesn’t this rush the grand finale? Small sounds start filtering off the closed space you’ve created with the cavern of your mouth. A mix of his own choked off moans, smacking noises of your lips each time they withdraw only to come back to him again, slick sounds of your tongues circling each other. The perfect musical score for your magnum opus, because you did this. You have set off these reactions and you have stored this fragile boy’s trust in you, and have seen it come to fruition like this.
It’s all carefully synchronized. You bite his lower lip and pinch the now erect peaks, gentle roughness matching both places and he gasps, pressing his chest more against you, like he craves that tender kind of pain. And, oh, he’s losing himself to you. Now he moves and is the one to initiate a rougher kiss, and you lose yourself to him as well, because you answer back in kind, the kiss now with exhilarating hints of teeth from both parts. But you have plans for him. Of course, he will get nothing but the best from this treatment, this particular type of roughness you can give him that will not have him running for the hills. So you detach your lips from his, though it’s an intermittent thing, because his lips were made to be kissed, and you can’t help yourself with a few more noisy smacks against them, but when you’re finally done, you attach these same lips to his neck, a quick, sharp point of contact when you show the slightest hint of teeth, to which in turn he exhales heavily, and your mouth just keeps going down, on his clavicle, then on a meaty part of his upper pec, and then…!
And then your mouth is on his left nipple, and he shouts, and he tries to keep it down, and then you start sucking and your left hand is fondling his right pectoral, and his hands hold onto the back of your head and you do something with your tongue that has him trembling and moaning outloud this time, and he crosses his legs and isn’t that a sight, he’s fully hard beneath his jeans, and he’s so needy and your right arm surrounds him and your right hand gropes his ass and his hips are pushed forward and he sobs as your own hips meet his and you grunt against his chest and the vibrations are too much for him and your mouth never leaves him as you lick a trail all the way to his right nipple and he blubbers and the heat of his chest feels like home to you and you bite his nipple and—
“Fuck me!”
You withdraw quickly to witness the spectacle: his hands are to the sides of his head against the wall. His almost fully open shirt, all rumpled, the crimson of its color and the pink of his chest a perfect palette. Below, the tent of his erection against the front of his jeans is enhanced by the small wet spot, right where the tip should be. Above, his face turns out to be the real zenith of the play. Mouth open as he draws in breaths, eyebrows pinched, eyes brimming with unshed tears.
‘I surrender’ would be the perfect title for this masterpiece of a performance.
You get close to him again and he rushes to hold onto your shoulders, like he cannot stand to be unmoored for one second. You encircle his waist, and your hands lay on his ass, and it’s a perfect fit. The comedown has to be gentler, this time. You give him a short, soft kiss on his lips that he chases after you’re done.
“So good for me, Bill. Telling me what you want.” The mumbled praise next to his ear has such an effect on him, you still can’t believe he could actually blush more. “Where do you want it?”
He takes a couple of deep breaths, calming himself down before he blows too soon. “Uh… the b-bed, I guess.” He tries to look to the side, embarrassed that he, he of all people could stutter at a time like this, but you don’t let him, left hand on his chin gently forcing him to keep his eyes on you.
“Yeah?” Your hands fondle that firm ass of his, still clothed, but he feels it as though he had nothing on, and he fights to keep his eyes open and on you, stubborn to give into his desire to close them and just feel.
Though it’s a reluctant move —because it is a tragedy, that you can’t multitask— your hands leave their place and set themselves on the few done buttons of his shirt.
He nods, and it almost gives you whiplash, how shy he’s looking right now, as if he didn’t shout out how he wanted you to fuck him some seconds ago.
You start unbuttoning the remaining part of his shirt before he loses his courage, and when you’re done, you hold his gaze intensely for one second as your hands find their way to his belt. He has to look down at what you’re doing because he needs to check that this is real, and because he just can’t with he way you’re looking at him. You keep looking at him even as he can’t decide between looking down or up, even as you undo his belt and his jeans, and then pull the tails of his shirt out of his jeans.
It seems like he braves through it and decides to face you in the end. Your hands stroke a sensual path up his bare chest until they’re underneath the fabric on his shoulders. You slowly push his shirt off him, not leaving his eyes for one second as the shirt falls to the floor. His body is so very perfectly sculpted, and you can’t wait to see more of him. Never leaving his skin, your hands lower down his body in a sensual caress, so low you have to bend over a bit, until your right hand is tracing his left leg, lower and lower. He looks confused for a slight moment until a gentle firmness tells him you want him to flex his leg. He does, and you use the momentum to lay his foot on your own folded leg. You start undoing his shoe.
This is the part where he looks at you like he can’t believe you exist. To be able to just stand there, against the wall, while someone else pauses their foreplay to simply take the time to undress him, or like the undressing is part of the foreplay too, maybe… he doesn’t think he can describe this moment. Not now, not ever. The only thing he knows is that he can’t think this over too much or he’ll start crying for sure this time, even before the sex begins.
Once his shoes are done, you rise and come back to his mouth, your home, and after a soft peck your hands find their way to the front of his pants. You hook two fingers of both hands beneath his underwear right away, and with a long heated look on his behalf, you slowly lower both jeans and underwear down his legs.
It’s so exhilarating when his hard cock springs free. You don’t know who’s the more excited of the two.
You use the excuse of lowering his lower garments to crouch before him, until you get to your prize, and exhale a hot breath right over his hard and leaking cock as you’re lowering them down his knees, and he almost keels over at the feel. Then, as if too stupefied from that simple action, he takes several seconds before remembering to lift his feet so that you can fully take his pants off and away. As you rise up again, you do the same thing, this time a quick brush of your lips against the head of his cock almost his ruin.
He’s on you the moment your faces are close again. You can’t tell whether it is because he truly can’t stand to be far from you for a second or because he’s feeling embarrassed again, but you return the messy kiss until he’s almost out of air. You notice this but he doesn’t stop, somehow. There’s a notable shaking of his hands on the back of your head as you lay your hands on his bare body.
You pull back because you simply have to look at him. He chases after you with a gasp but stops himself at the last moment, and you know he’s mortified, if the strong blush on his face is indicative enough. And now, he’s fully bare for you to feast on. Your eyes trace heated paths across his body, and your hands follow those same paths. He beckons you, just by being himself. He can’t seem to choose between looking at you or at what you’re doing to him, but Billy’s equally pleased with the way you’re touching him and the way you’re looking at him, like you want to commit every single detail to memory.
You can’t help yourself and grope at his pecs once more, the view so much better now that you can see his chest, unhindered. Rough, calloused fingertips play with his nipples and the sides of his torso, and he lays himself onto you, ripe for the taking.
“God, Billy. Your fucking body…” Your left hand rubs down his navel, feeling him squirm at the sensation. Your right hand goes around his body and slowly, painstakingly approaches the lower part of his back.
He almost jumps a foot in the air and moans when your hand is suddenly there, groping the swell of his ass. He can’t look at you. God, he can’t. The way you’re spreading him with one hand is too much for him and he has to hide his face in the crook of your neck as he tries to muffle his moans.
“Sensitive there?” Your right hand traces the inner part of his cheek, and one of his feet kicks against the wall as a reflex. His face is radiating so much heat right now, because you’re so close to touching his hole.
But Billy can’t handle you laying it all on him at once, so he instead withdraws —with such a red face you can’t believe it’s not feverish— and says, “You too. T-Take off your clothes.”
Sweet boy. It truly takes a lot for him to not want the attention on him anymore, and this seems to be it, the way you’re this close to consuming him entirely and the way he would terrifyingly let you. But doesn’t he know that tonight is all about him? He will receive as much attention as he needs to and he will burst at the seams with it. So, instead of taking your time, you quickly start undressing before him as he watches almost in foreboding, understanding that this is about him. But he tries to prolong this, lays his hands on the front of your pants, looking at you with shyness, then, at his own hands, trying to open your button and zipper, but his hands are trembling too much for it.
You chuckle against his lips, receiving a meek sigh in response. “My good boy. Trying to help me.”
It’s the first time you say it loud and clear. He’s your good boy. And your good boy looks faint from it. He’s trying to blubber something out but he can’t seem to form the words, so your mercy comes in the form of a slow, forceful kiss, in which he can’t keep himself quiet. It’s as if the floodgates have been opened with these two simple words. The only reason his moans aren’t that loud is because you’re not giving his mouth a second of respite. Meanwhile, your hands find his, and you finally withdraw from his lips and watch, exhilarated, as he chases after you. It’s becoming tradition now, and it’s probably one of your newest favorite things about Billy.
“It goes like this,” you say, and your fingers guide his in undoing your pants. After it’s done, you hold his gaze as you lead his hands to the sides of you, slowly beginning to push down your lower garments all at once. He bends forward some, similar to what you did with him, but doesn’t go down all the way and seems to lose his courage in the middle of it, because you’re the one who ends up taking off the rest of your own clothes as he pointedly looks at your eyes only, as if he already knew what he was going to encounter and was terrified and thrilled at the same time.
The last of your clothes is now away from you, and you both stare down at each other, with nothing blocking the way.
Your right hand finds its way under his chin. You rub your thumb across and under his lips, and feel his hot, heavy exhale against it.
He blinks quickly in succession. His eyes do this funny thing where they want to look down but end up looking at you and then elsewhere, like he’s embarrassed again and doesn’t know where to look. You think he deserves some encouragement, and lower your mouth to his for a quick peck. Then, your right hand, still holding his chin, starts tilting his head down, slowly enough that he can push you off if he wants to, but he doesn’t want that. No, he does not. As he’s being lead down, his eyes quickly find yours once more in a slight… panic? Excitement?, before he’s facing down and has nothing more to look at but you.
And you can hear and feel his reaction. Because that’s the thing. You’re big, bigger than he was possibly expecting, and a small croak of a moan confirms this same thought he’s currently having. He swallows down and looks you in the eye, from under his lashes, and does he have any idea of what that does to you?
He wants to put his hands on you this time. He doesn’t even know where to start so he settles on your navel. He briefly looks up at you again, but then down, like he’s quickly becoming obsessed with the sight of you. Your hands, in turn, find his hips and lower still. They come to rest right on the sides of his erect, flushed cock, and he does this little jump, and you’re quickly realizing that he’s a lot more sensitive that you initially thought. Hmm…
Billy can’t hide the trembling in his hands anymore, but you’re going to trust him on this, trust that he knows what he’s doing and that he wants it. His nervous hands hover around your cock and it’s like he’s having an internal battle with himself over something, or maybe he truly can’t believe he gets to look at another naked male in a sexual situation and is still getting acclimated to it, so perhaps a little incentive will work.
“Touch all you want, sweetness. It’s all yours.”
He gets this little nervous look on his eye that’s somehow eclipsed by the thrill he’s feeling and showing. So, he obeys. The first contact on your cock is warm, timid, rough from the dryness. Billy has his full attention on your member now. Now, this here is something that would make any man in the world preen: the way Billy’s looking at your cock is comparable to that of someone witnessing a wonder. He’s just holding it, feeling the heavy weight of it on his right hand as his nervous left hand can’t decide if it wants to feel out your testes. You notice this and you gently lead that hand down, showing him he can unequivocally feel to his heart’s desires. The contact on both points feels nice, though clearly insecure on his behalf. And his face. You could’ve never pictured anyone looking at someone else’s sex the way he is. His mouth opens and closes like he can’t find the words, some quiet gasps resounding in the otherwise quiet room.
This leaves you with that same question from before, when he looked ready to weep just from being treated nicely. What is it about this situation that has him so agitated?
“Okay?”, you just have to ask. “Does it feel nice?”
You expect him to snark, but you surprisingly get a somewhat enthusiastic nod in response. Only now you realize that you haven’t touched his cock still, and yet he’s been hard from your foreplay all this time. Well. You obviously have to fix that.
Only that before you can lay a hand on his cock, he shocks you by leaning into you, and then going down, down, down…
“Oh, honey…”
The vision of a bare Billy Hargrove kneeling at your feet is something that’ll haunt your dreams forever, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. Of course, you didn’t expect anything from Billy because he doesn’t owe you anything, and this is about him tonight, but if this is what he wants to do then by all means you will make it unforgettable for him, because this is probably his first time giving head to a man, isn’t it?
He’s gaping at the heavy cock in front of him, holding it in both hands, and then at you.
You run the fingers of your right hand through his soft hair. “Need me to guide you?”
He’s doing that thing again, where he’s opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water, can’t decide what he wants to say, and to you this is a clear visage of a boy who needs a nurturing hand.
“S’alright, gorgeous. I’ll tell you what to do. Yeah?”
Billy heaves a heavy breath and nods. So it seems like he’s going non-verbal for the moment. It doesn’t concern you right now, but you’ll keep an eye out in case anything goes wrong. You feel the slightest hint of guilt for thinking he’s so fucking hot like this, not being able to even speak out from lust.
“Open your mouth.” He does. “Pull out your tongue for me, handsome.” He does, too, though slowly, like he’s embarrassed. “Now, just start like this,” and you run your finger across your cock in random strokes, showing him how he’s to lick you, get you wet. “You told me girls sometimes did this to you, yeah? Just do what you’d like to get done on you.”
But, there’s a problem with that. Billy has been with girls before, has had sex with them, but never out of real desire. It has always been a carefully crafted mask for him, the fact that he has to be seen with a girl just to fend off his piece of shit father’s heavy suspicions of him being queer. So, the entirety of his sexual experiences can be summarized into forced orgasm after forced orgasm, doing the most to seem interested enough. So he cannot possibly ‘do what he’d like to get done on himself’ because no situation where a girl was sucking him off could count as genuinely pleasurable for him.
The pause he makes as he’s processing these thoughts and this gentle encouragement of yours tells you all you need to know. “Just start with this pretty pink of yours, yeah?” The tip of your index finger strokes across the expanse of his tongue.
He pulls it back in to swallow, because the way you’re treating him will be his ruin someday, and pulls it back out. There’s a hot blush on his cheeks and the bridge of his nose.
And then, he begins. Nervous, but braving through it, always your boy, he starts with a small kitten lick on the underside of your head. His tongue is like velvet, so hot and alive under you. There’s no words to describe this masterpiece of a vision. He swipes his tongue a little lower, going down to the base and then returning to his first spot. The hot breath he heaves as he pulls his tongue back in to wet it gives you a little thrill. Then, his tongue sweeps all the way up and against the front of your cockhead, and you know he’s now got the taste of your pre-cum, if the short-lived pursing of his lips is any indicator. You know it can’t taste that good, but your boy is full of surprises. After a quick closing of his lips, and a muffled smacking of them, as if he’s savoring the taste and trying to get to a conclusion, he goes back for another taste. And another. He’s holding your gaze, daringly, as he keeps tasting the few drops that keep coming out of you.
Your right hand has a life of its own, finding his soft locks like they’re its home. “Such a good boy for me, Blue.”
Billy always gets a bit more flustered with each time you say that to him. Right now, he’s breathing heavily, only now remembering to use his hands as well. He starts a slow, soft stroke of his hands near the base of your cock while he keeps using his tongue under your head. It’s a nice form of gentle stimulation.
Your finger cards through his curls. “Look at yourself, Billy. Doing so good.” It’s the start of something raunchy, what you’re about to do, but your left hand finds its way to his lips. Your thumb hooks down against the inner part of his cheek and pulls outwards. It’s an obscene image, the beginning of a very obscene expression on him, him with his tongue on a man’s cock, his cheek bulging out.
And yet. The small gasp that resounds in the room does not sound as if he dislikes it.
You end it as quickly as your started it. You get your thumb out and rub it against his lower lip, effectively wetting it. He looks at you with something that looks very much like excitement.
“Try using your lips now, gorgeous.”
He puts his tongue back in his mouth and he swallows and he licks his lips. He briefly looks down in embarrassment and then back at you. He nods. He gets his lips closer to the head of your cock, but he pauses for some seconds here. He pointedly looks at your member now, like he’s gearing up for something. He bites his lower lip. Billy quickly looks up at you and then down again. Then, closes the distance and puts his closed lips to the tip of your cock. The contact is shy, clearly new to him, but what he lacks in experience he makes up for in enthusiasm. Immediately, his lips open, and he starts a gentle suckling on the tip. His eyes are glazed, continuously switching between looking at what he’s doing and looking up at you.
“That’s it…”
Encouraged, he opens his jaw, only to pause for a second and remember to cover his teeth with his lips.
He looks obscene.
“God, Bill, look at you.”
He goes down on you for the first time. The praise on your behalf is taking effect on him: his breathing goes heavier, and he seems to start drooling even though he hasn’t gone so far down yet. His mouth —it’s so open. No doubt his jaw might be sore afterwards— lowers around your cock down to the frenulum, and then lower still.
A small hum from him reverberates on your head. It feels delicious.
“Only what you can, baby. Don’t force yourself.”
His hands on your cock tremble a bit more, but it’s nothing concerning as of right now, because what’s a little bit more of it already? But, you should pay attention to him. As he’s withdrawing and going back down, just a hair’s width further each time, his breathing turns erratic. He quickly looks at you and back down just because he wants to check that’s he’s doing good, that he’s being good, your angel. Even then, that doesn’t seem to compose him at all anymore. The room is filling with the soft sounds of his suckling and his noisy breathing. There’s one or two faint moans in the mix. And that trembling… it’s the subtle shaking of his body this time that tells you something else is up.
Billy starts crying well before he chokes.
“Oh, Billy…”
It’s too late for him to cover it up, but he still tries. Tears are rolling down his cheek first, and then he lowers himself as far as he can, effectively choking this time. He starts a quicker pace, down to that same point that has him gagging every time.
Your hand is soft but firm in his hair as you stop him and pull him off. “You’re hurting yourself.”
Billy doesn’t even look at your eyes after he’s been caught. He uses the back of a hand to wipe at the tears that won’t stop spilling from his eyes, as if you can’t see his pinched eyebrows, the downturn of his lips, the shuddering of his torso drawing in trembling breaths.
The hand you have in his hair goes under his chin. You tilt his head up but he won’t look at you yet. “Talk to me, babe.” Even more tears roll down his cheeks while he shakes his head. “Please?”
This treatment he’s receiving, like he’s a fragile thing not to be messed with, is what does him in. His face turns heartbreaking to look at right now. It’s the grimace a person makes when they’re about to break down.
“It’s so f-fucking— I’m s-so fucking stupid—”
“You’re not.” It’s a commandment, a key principle, something to not be refuted, because it is true. The intensity with which you enunciate it gives him pause and has him staring up at you, vision blurry from the tears. “Tell me what’s wrong?”
The soft caressing under his jaw breaks him a little more. He has to look down for this, otherwise he’ll be a blubbering mess before he even starts speaking. “I… It’s just…” His hands leave your cock for the moment, going to rest on the front of your thighs. “I just— can’t believe I’m finally…”
Oh, baby. “With a man?”
His quick nodding is followed by more tears.
It dawns on you like the biggest epiphany. Of course. He’s never had the chance to be himself, not until he met you and until you could present him with this safe space. This is something so important to him, so much so that he’s been carrying this hurt and this burden his entire life, and now, it all comes out in a steady torrent he can’t seem to shut off.
Everything you want to convey can’t possibly be said in this position, him on his knees in front of your erect cock; this is supposed to be special for him. So, both of your hands go under his jaw and you try to pull him up, to bring him up to his feet and in front of you. But.
He whines. He presses his face to your thigh, adamant about not getting up, like the only way he’ll be able to stay calm is on his knees.
Well. You’re not going to refuse him.
“Baby, look at me.” He does. Billy’s eye peeks from beneath you, and this vision is sure to stay with you for a good while. He hasn’t stopped shedding tears, albeit silently now, and with how fragile he is right now you know it’ll only get more intense starting from now. “You are so brave by telling me this. You were so alone, and now you don’t have to be. And the fact that you chose me of all people?” Your right hand goes to his soft curls and he’s already on his way to weeping again. You lean down until your faces are in front of each other. “I feel so fucking honored.” A kiss on his lips. “I will do everything in my power to make you feel safe at all times.” Another kiss, and he’s blubbering something that vaguely sounds like ‘but you already do!’. You smile at him. “And you’ll always come back to me when anything’s wrong and I’ll make it better, because it’s my duty, because you’re mine, and I’m yours. Okay?”
And everything comes out now. He’s full-on bawling at this point. You kneel down and he throws himself around your shoulders. You’ll hold him for as long as he’ll crying, and he’ll be alright, because he is safe in your arms. Because right now he’s a broken little thing, so beautiful still, the shards from his soul scattered all around, and you are his mender. Your kisses against the side of his head are the liquid gold that will glue the pieces back together.
This is his moment of catharsis.
It’s a surprisingly short-lived affair. After some few thirty seconds, he composes himself enough to gradually stop sobbing. Only trembling breaths reverberating throughout your own body are the indicator that tears are still rolling down, but he’s miles more settled than before.
You caress thoughout the length of his hair. He finally withdraws from the spot in your neck and valiantly tries to look at you. Your hand on his hair goes under his jaw, strokes the chiseled relief. “Better?”
His expression is so soft. You barely remember the last time he looked so calm. “Yeah,” is the hoarse whisper next to your soothing hand.
You lean forward and kiss the few droplets that are still going down. He closes his eyes and sighs, conquered. Turns his head as you’re kissing him and meets your lips, one, two, three times. Gives you the smallest of smiles.
Then he surprises you. His arms untangle from around your shoulders and his hands come to rest on your navel. “C’mon,” he murmurs. “I still want you to— to fuck me.”
Your arms tighten around his waist. “Yeah? You sure?”
Billy gives you a meek little nod.
You both get up. It’s a bit tricky; both of you have been on the hard floor for a while and your legs hurt. You begin to slowly walk the very few steps leading towards the bed, and even that takes a while, since he can’t seem to help himself and stop a few times to kiss you again and again. And it’s not like you’d complain. This is heaven to you.
You reach the foot of your bed. Now, this part is very special, and you have to be able to convey it to him, because he might have settled for the moment, but you suspect that the second you lay him on your bed he might start breaking again a little. So, your arms find their way around his waist. Billy’s arms go around your shoulders once again, like he knows what’s up. And then, slowly, you start tipping him over backwards, feeling a pang of affection with how he’s trusting you with his whole weight, until his back softly hits the bed, so silently the sheets barely rustle.
You settle between his legs.
“Still okay?”
He nods. You lean down, arms still around his waist between him and the mattress, and kiss him long and languidly for good measure. After you separate, there’s a few brief seconds where you just look each other in the eye. He seems to shy away after a while. A couple of tears roll down the sides of his head, and you begin to think it’s something he can’t control, like years of repressed emotions are just leaking out of him absent-mindedly.
You mumble against his lips, quietly, so that you won’t break this bubble: “Okay, gorgeous. Gonna need some lube and a rubber.”
Billy’s gaze turns heated, even as the tears are still rolling out of him. He bites his lower lip and nods.
With the grip on his waist, you push him further up the bed until you’re both comfortably positioned. Your hands fondle the sides of him, up and down his torso, and you feel the tiniest squirm against them. Hm. He’s probably ticklish after all. You give him a small smile and close the distance between your lips. He responds in kind and deepens the kiss. A short groan comes out of his mouth, muffled by your mouth.
While you’ve got him busy, feeling his nervous hands tracing random patterns on your back, you reach out with your right hand until you can open your nightstand’s drawer. Billy hears what you’re doing, but tries not to mind you too much or he’ll lose his nerve, so he keeps on opening his mouth for you, letting you caress his tongue with yours. Without looking, you pull out the objects and close it with the same hand. You lay the tube of lube and the unopened packet on the bed, next to his left hip.
Not wanting to withdraw yet, you start a sensual stroke of your right hand across his torso. His small breakdown just moments earlier have obviously made him flag. Your fingertips press firmly against the juncture of his neck and shoulder, starting a soft massage that leaves him boneless close to you. Then, those same fingers continue their way down his chest. One thing that’ll never stop exciting you is how sensitive his pecs seem to be, so you decide to exploit this fact to the maximum. You grope and rub the meat of his left pectoral in circles. He arches up into you, looking for more of that feel. The thumb of your right hand starts stroking his nipple, and he moans into the kiss. You take advantage of this and bite his lower lip. He shakes against you.
You reluctantly remove yourself from his lips and immediatly attach them to his neck. Without the barrier of your own mouth on his now, he makes small, choked off noises. While he’s distracted, you leave the warm skin of his chest and use that hand to open the lube, pouring some in that same hand single-handedly. You leave it to the side for the moment. Your tongue comes out. It starts tracing a path from the fluttering underneath his jaw and down to the place where your thumb is, and once you’re there, simultaneously, you suck on his pink nipple and enclose his now semi-hard cock with your lubed hand.
The reaction is priceless. He shocks himself with how loud he moans, almost to the point of shouting. He can’t even get on his elbows to watch you as you stimulate him; his arms feel like jelly. Billy can only hold tight against the bedsheet next to the sides of his head. He can’t help but thrust his hips repeatedly against the tunnel of your fingers.
“Needy boy.” He whimpers at that. Your hand moves very slowly up and down his member. “I’ll give you everything you want, and more.”
You move your mouth to his other nipple and do the same, this time with the tiniest, most delicious hint of teeth. He sobs. His cock has gotten fully hard in record time, and is steadily leaking pre-cum now.
“Can you open your legs for me, gorgeous?”
Billy covers his mouth with his right hand, somehow embarrassed at the obscene moan that almost comes out of him. He nods. You remove your hand from his sex, and he whines, even as he watches you lean back to witness him.
The way he flexes his legs, until his feet are against the mattress, and begins parting them, is shy, inexperienced, nervous. It does nothing to quell the pure feel of arousal you get when you finally see the most intimate part of him.
He chews on his fingertips, like he’s so nervous he can’t control his reactions.
“Billy…” You hook your hands under the back of his knees and pull his legs up more, almost bending him in half, wanting to look at him better. He shrieks and rushes to hide his face with his hands. His face is so pink behind them, no doubt. “Fucking perfect. Like you were made for me.” A muffled whine is all you get in response. But, how is he so ashamed of this right now? You are right. He is perfect. And so pink. And tender? And… open… Wait.
Your hands automatically stroke along his thighs until you take hold of his cheeks; he gasps and looks at what you’re doing from between his fingers. Your thumbs open him up.
“Oh my God,” is all he can whimper.
Huh.
You’re positive you might start drooling any point from now. He totally opened himself up for you before coming here. You’re absolutely sure you could fit two of your fingers in him right away.
In fact. Why not?
Your middle and ring finger start rubbing circles against his asshole. He has such a visceral reaction to this that you’re worried he might break down again. Billy uncovers his face and howls; grabs at both of your wrists, the one near his knee and the one close to his entrance. You watch him just in case he wants to stop, but the way he’s holding onto you lets you know he’s doing just that: holding on for dear life, not calling everything off.
“Good?”
He nods, almost enthusiastically, and you’re again hit with a rush of affection for him.
Slowly, as to not spook him too much, the tip of your middle finger starts pushing against his entrance, not forcefully enough to breach him yet. You were right. You could totally sink two fingers in him easily.
Meanwhile, he has started breathing more frantically, expectant of your next moves.
He looks at you. His pupils are so wide that the gorgeous ocean of his irises almost can’t be seen anymore.
You push your middle and ring finger in him, easily, and it’s like sinking into hot velvet.
The look on his face. God. He exhales a moaning breath and his eyes almost cross. You’re sure he’s started tearing up again. His head leans backwards against the bed. His spine sinfully arches up.
You begin a slow, leisured massage in and out of his entrance, index and pinky fingers to the sides of it. He sounds so breathless. His moans are so obscene already, and you’ve barely even started.
“Feels better when someone else does it, hm?”
You believe he didn’t even register that you’ve said something, if the way he keeps on moaning is indicator enough. Not a problem. The answer is clearly yes. Your thick fingers feel like heaven and hell at the same time in him, stretch him so much more than what he’s worked himself with —two fingers, as well— and send currents of pleasure throughout his body.
Your fingers part, effectively stretching him open further, and he makes a noise that sounds a lot like a purr. You lean forwards to look at his face better; his head was tilted back before, too caught in the throes of pleasure to understand anything else.
Billy catches your eye. He looks like a wreck. There are tear trails going up his forehead and now down the sides of his temples.
“Hey, gorgeous. Having fun?”
Your fingers thrust in and out of him a bit faster, and he covers his mouth with his right hand before nodding.
“It’s so hot that you played with yourself before coming here.”
Billy chokes on a moan. “Wh-What?! No— I—” His face gets so pink and he covers his face with his hands.
You smile fondly at him. He still gets so embarrassed at times. Your left hand leaves his leg and pulls at one of his hands, uncovering his face with not much resistance. “Such a good boy for doing that, Bill. Getting ready for me.”
And, as you say this, your fingers press against that bundle of nerves and that has him screaming so loud he can’t stop himself. He covers his mouth with his right hand, and even then he can’t stop the obscene moans filtering through.
But you don’t stop there. Your fingers focus solely against that place, and you begin a circular massage that has him seeing stars and start sobbing against his own hand. Such a perfect picture he paints for you. His hips are shaking, his feet are kicking against the bed. Billy uses his free hand to hold onto the wrist of the hand that’s making him feel in cloud nine, and he pushes with his hips against it.
“Oh, Billy. So good for me. Let me hear you, baby.” Your left hand grabs at his right wrist and pulls his hand away from his mouth. He complies without problem because he’s so out of it. Your fingertips press hard against his prostate, stroke around it, tap against it in random patterns. He’s trembling like a leaf by this point.
His eyes are clenched. He’s biting his lip so hard you’re afraid he might draw blood. You realize he’s trying to say something.
“F— Fast-ter—”
Your fingers start a quicker rhythm. “Yeah?” They thrust in and out of his hole with force now. He wails. He sobs even harder, well on his way to fully crying, but he doesn’t tell you to stop. His left arm goes around your shoulders to hold on for dear life. “Feels good?”
“Ye— Yeah.”
Your fingers are almost vibrating against him with how fast you’re going. His breathing is mostly composed of moans rather than breaths by this point. “You look so gorgeous like this. So perfect for me.”
Billy presses his tearful, agonic face against the side of yours. “Fuck me. Please! Please.”
“In a moment, gorgeous. I have to stretch you more.” He whines so loudly and prolonged it amuses you. He sounds so pouty about it. “Trust me on this one, okay? I can kind of be… well. A lot.”
He whines a bit more but complies, because it’s true. He’s going to need at least four fingers before you can enter him without causing him pain.
You kiss him languidly, trying to calm him down some before proceeding. As he’s distracted within the kiss, you slip your index finger under —or above, more specifically, since your hand is facing up— your middle and ring finger. It’s a tighter fit now. Your fingers are thick and unforgiving inside him, and his whining turns into a more choked off whimpering.
You withdraw your mouth. “Hurts?”
He shakes his head. You don’t think he’s being untruthful, even as he grimaces, because he’s pushing his hips onto your hand. After some seconds of stillness, you move your fingers in and out of him, slowly at first, but quicken the pace right away. He moans right into your mouth. You’re not kissing him, only sharing the same breath, which to him feels somehow more intimate.
He looks at you pointedly from beneath his tears. “Put another.”
You do, and this time, it’s a bit tricky to ease him into it. The fit is too tight as of right now, and he doesn’t realize he’s clenching down on the three fingers you already have in him. You can’t possibly enter him like this.
“Can you relax for me, baby? Be good for me and unclench?”
Billy exhales so loudly it can be taken for a moan. He bites his lip and tries to do as he’s told. Your last finger slips in, only up to the first joint. But your angel is being so good for you, and he deserves a reward that’ll surely give him a bit more encouragement.
“That’s a good boy.” You lower your face down his body, and before he can ready himself for it, your tongue licks a stripe up his cock.
He yells. His legs quiver next to your head, like he wants to trap your head in them but stops himself at the last moment. You give him too little of this, of this oral stimulation, because you can tell it won’t take too much for him now. Only a few swirls of your tongue around his head have him sobbing desperately, but it lands its intended purpose. His hole is lax around your fingers, and you manage to penetrate him with the entirety of your four fingers now.
You grab the backside of his right leg. You kiss a trail from his groin to his knee. “Perfect. I knew you could do it.” Your fingers thrust in and out quickly now.
Billy’s body is shaking and he’s making the most erotic noises now. He’s so out of it that he doesn’t realize that he’s whimpering, “Thank you. Thank you.”
“Oh, Billy.” Your fingers are ruthless against his entrance. “Such a polite boy, thanking me. I should be thanking you for letting me see you like this. If only you could see yourself right now.”
He’s a blubbering mess. He grabs the wrist of the hand that’s pleasuring him. “Now. Now. Please.”
You get your fingers out of him, slowly, though he still whimpers when you’re finally out. You quickly find the package and tear it open. Billy clings onto your shoulders and presses his tearful face against the junction of your shoulder and neck.
“Baby. It’s okay be nervous,” you start, as you roll on the condom and grab the lube bottle. ���I’m here. Nothing bad’s ever gonna happen to you here.” You pour lube on your sheathed cock and stroke yourself a couple of times. Your arms go around his waist, and his legs find their way around your hips, like they’re their designated place by default. “I’ll take care of you. Can I take care of you? Please?”
“Please.” His whine resounds wetly, a tremble present in his voice.
This moment is everything for him. The moment when you push forward, slowly, though even then the head of your cock slips in completely, fluidly, and he looks a little bit like he’s dying, and he’s even quieted down, almost to the point of silence, like he needs to watch this part of his life as though he were witnessing a spectacle.
Billy looks at you, and his mouth does that thing where he can’t seem to get the words out, opening and closing on its own. You push your mouth onto him but don’t kiss him, only let him breath against yours, as if you’re his lifeline, his breathing source.
Your hips push forward a bit more, and all of a sudden you’re bottoming out.
He does this noise now, like that of a dying animal. His face is undescribable. He’s in the biggest agony, and yet he looks like he’s having the silent Rapture. Both emotions are strangely accompanied by complete silence. He can’t begin to process this. One thing that’s for sure is that he needs to be treated delicately for a while now, or he’ll truly break.
You kiss the side of his face. He turns his head, not really seeking your lips but just wanting you to be in his field of vision. “Talk to me, babe? Everything okay?”
He breaths heavily. Erratically. The tears are a steady companion now, will be for a good while. Billy looks at you like he hasn’t processed what you’ve said.
“Babe. Okay?”, you repeat, just in case.
The noise starts coming back. He’s moaning lowly without noticing. He shifts his arms around your shoulders, wanting you even closer to him. God. The light blue of his irises is so intense now, made even more so with how red his eyes have gotten.
He finally nods. Slowly at first, but then turning more frantic, pawing at your back, flexing his legs around your hips, urging you to move.
You chuckle a bit and that almost makes his eyes roll back in his skull. “Tell me how it feels?”
He exhales shakily a few times, like he can’t get enough air in to tell you his answer. “G-Good. So good. So full.”
“Yeah?” You knew he would. Your big cock is stretching him so much, you’re surprised he doesn’t look like he’s in pain. “Doesn’t hurt?”
He shakes his head. That makes this easier.
“Good boy.” He whines against your lips at this. “You were made for me. Taking me in so easily. Look so good split on my cock.”
He’s weeping, but he feels so accomplished now. Fulfilled. So wanted.
Billy closes the short distance and you do, too. The kiss is long and steamy. Half of it is just you giving his lips little bites that he can’t get enough of. A quarter of it is him inviting you into his mouth, licking inside yours and you responding in kind. Through all of it, his moaning gets louder, more whiny, more needy.
You bite his lower lip and drag it backwards, ending a kiss that he chases, again, so predictable and delectable. Sufficiently stimulated, Billy caresses your hips with his legs, whining a bit more. He’s so ready.
Your arms, hooked around his waist, work as an anchor as you begin pulling out of him, almost to the tip, something that has him shaking and whimpering already. Then, you push forward in the same leisured pace until you bottom out again.
His moans get desperate, even though you haven’t done much yet. “Go faster. Faster.”
You give him a steamy kiss and do as you’re told, pulling out and then giving a forceful thrust that has him wailing into your mouth. Then, you do it again. And then you start a steady rhythm that sends a current of pure unadulterated pleasure through his body. It’s not strong enough for him to feel it through his bones, but it still has Billy grasping at your back like you’re his only anchor. The way he’s moaning now leaves you wondering what he’ll sound like when you really start pounding into him. The image concerns you and leaves you breathless at the same time.
Billy’s legs are quivering around your hips already. You’re sure his hands are leaving scratch marks down your back, and the simple thought is delicious. His moans are breathy against your mouth. And the way he clenches around your cock is undescribable. He feels so hot, so tight, even through the condom.
He paints the prettiest picture. His face reflects how much he’s feeling right now, the steady stream of tears down his temples having never stopped. You don’t think you’ll ever see anything more beautiful.
“Is this how you’d thought it would feel?”, you ask, breathless as well, because no one who looks at this masterpiece can remain unmoved.
He shakes his head and tries to quiet his moans. “N-No. This is— ah— s-so much better. Never thought I would— oh— earn this!”
You press him tighter against you within the shield of your arms while you quicken your pace. “You never had to earn this. This —I— was always yours.” You press heavy kisses on his neck while he sobs. “I want to get this through to you.” Your hips slap against his skin, turning this moment into something so sensual and intimate at the same time. “You deserve to be happy.”
Billy begins crying in earnest. It almost makes you slow down before he tightens his legs around your waist, clearly indicating that he wants you to go faster. You comply, anything for your boy, and pound into him so hard that you feel it vibrate around him.
Your arms untangle from his waist and your hands grab at the back of his knees, bending him in half while you keep a fast pace.
“Yes! Yes!”
“I need you to believe it,” you say while you piston in and out of him. “You have to understand how much you mean. Not only to me, but by yourself.”
“Thank you! Thank you s-so mu-uch!” He looks almost overwhelmed with pleasure and emotions. He can barely keep his eyes open.
“You are enough, and more. I love you, Blue. Love you so fucking much.”
That’s Billy’s breaking point. It’s the first time either of you has said it, and he can’t take it. He starts coming untouched, shocked by himself, but pushes on around his pleasure. “L-Love you. I love you. I love you!” He repeats it like a mantra, in a moan, in a sob, defeated by this feel, so intense that he truly breaks down.
This is the strongest orgasm he’s ever had, and he can’t get enough of it. Tries to prolong it, doesn’t want it to ever end, even as he feels almost faint from it, his walls clenching down on you almost painfully.
Before it starts ebbing away, he tries to clamp his legs around you, both still in your grip. “Keep going. Keep going. Please.”
You curse and keep your quick pace. You know he’s finished when he starts moving against you almost erratically, overstimulated, his moans almost screams now. But he doesn’t tell you to stop. “Yeah? You’re gonna let me in you? Let me love you?” Your thrusts turn erratic as well.
“Yes! Yes! Please!” He’s shaking his head, so overwhelmed by the onslaught of your hips, now almost painful with how stimulated he is. His legs quake in your strong grip.
“I’m going to. You’re gonna get so much love, Billy.” You feel a pull at your gut. “So much and even more.”
“Please!”
You grunt next to his ear, and his moans turn airy and high-pitched, barely holding himself together. A few frantic thrusts more, and you’re releasing into the condom, grunting out your pleasure to him. He answers with loud moans, so overwhelmed, almost to the point of blacking out when he feels the warmth of your cum within the condom in him.
He’s still sobbing loudly as you slow down, but there’s a small, dopey smile on his face now.
You pull out and lie next to him, and he immediately attaches himself to you. Billy cries so loudly. He holds you around the shoulders and you hold him close to you, letting him vent all of his remaining emotions to you. But this is the beginning of something new, something different.
Those are happy tears now.
Oops. I didn’t mean for this to get so poetic and long. Lol
Edit: Yes, I changed the header for this work. I hope I’m not being too exaggerated.
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Hi!
From someone who is disorganized and discouraged, I would love advice on weight-lifting/building muscle. Would you share your understanding of building muscle and the breakdown of diet?
If possible, could you share how you apply what you know to yourself? If you use any tools to help you?
Struggled with working out, gaining weight, and eating my whole life. Thanks!
prefacing this with some important info for fellow disorganized scatterbrains!!!!
the main reason why ppl have trouble sticking to a lifestyle change is because they try to make very drastic changes too quick, and you get overwhelmed and it becomes unsustainable. this is especially an issue for neurodivergent folks, and since it's Tumblr I assume a good chunk of y'all are (me too dw)
DON'T immediately overhaul ur diet and hit the gym 5x a week from day 1!!! hitting tiny goals consistently is also more rewarding than working towards one very large arbitrary goal that you might not reach, esp when it comes to working out. start veeery small if u need to, such as only 10 bodyweight squats per day like i did and go from there. you wanna program ur brain into feeling accomplished to keep you motivated. patience is key!!!!
ok!! now onto the more detailed info below
Disclaimer: I'm still a newbie myself!! only consistently lifting heavy for about 3 months as of this post. I did a good deal of excessive info diving on lifting using the power of Sheer Autism, and my main gym buddy is very experienced & taught me a good chunk of this shit so shout-out to my pal for making all this possible xoxo
so good news!! "building muscle" is very easy for beginners starting from zero. newbie gainz are absolutely real. at this stage you can do just about anything at the gym and get stronger bc u can only go up. BUT!! if you structure it, you can make the process enjoyable and much more efficient. if you're goal oriented (lookin at u ADHD menaces), you'll love the concept progressive overload.
PROGRESSIVE OVERLOAD & SETS/REPS
wikipedia defines progressive overload as: a method of strength training and hypertrophy training that advocates for the gradual increase of the stress placed upon the musculoskeletal and nervous system.
in layman's terms, it just means gradually adding more weight as you work out to increase the difficulty as you get stronger. progress is VERY easy to track because of this, and you'll be hitting PRs pretty much every week for the first couple of months and that shit feels fantastic because you physically feel yourself getting stronger so rapidly. I use the app Strong to track my workouts.
so, how do we structure progressive overload? that's through sets/reps.
A rep is a single execution of an exercise. 1 squat is one rep. 2 squat is 2 reps. and so on.
A set is a collection of reps.
The format is Sets x Reps, for example: 3x5 means 3 sets of 5 reps.
You will rest between sets, and it's typically anywhere from 1 minute all the way up to 5 minutes depending on the level of exertion/type of training you are doing. Heavier weights mean longer rest periods and vice versa.
WHERE DO I EVEN START??
For those interested in barbell training: the r/fitness beginner routine is pretty good! I also recommend 5x5 stronglifts. both are very straightforward, but also note the typical olympic barbell is 45lbs. If this is a weight you struggle with, you can begin with bodyweight exercises, dumbbells, or machines at the gym which are all very BEGINNER beginner friendly. especially when it comes to legs you're probably much stronger than you think. Most people can squat 45lbs first try. don't be afraid -- you're standing on those things all day, they can support hella weight.
Like I mentioned earlier, don't be afraid to start veeeery small and work your way up from there. I started at home with doing only bodyweight squats without the barbell, then added on benching with light 7lb dumbbells after a week, then impulse signed up for a gym membership a month later and began to go there to use equipment and now i'm deadlifting over 100lbs as a tiny girl that previously was too weak to even lift a 40lb dog. it snowballs quicker than you think once you gain confidence in your own body and its abilities!
WOAH I DON'T KNOW HOW TO SQUAT/DEADLIFT/BENCH/THIS IS SCARY AND IM FUCKING UP
If you can, i highly recommend getting a personal trainer to assist you, or tag along with a gymrat pal to show you the ropes. This page is also a good resource to learn specific lifts. otherwise, youtube is your best friend. you can record your sets and compare your form to form tutorials on youtube, and actively take notes on what to change the next time you work out. Be an active learner!!! be aware of what muscles are engaged when you lift and how your body feels.
almost NOBODY gets it right the first time, esp with barbells. we've all made fools out of ourselves at the gym as beginners it's chill. i find people at the gym are very nice and willing to help you out if you're struggling, and people don't judge at all-- it's very easy to get in your own head in these spaces but most humans there are supportive and want you to succeed, especially since it's a hobby they are also passionate about. the more you do it, the less anxious you get. exposure therapy is very effective!!
Also, almost all the barbell exercises can be replaced with smaller dumbbells, and you can do them at home if you get your own set + a workout bench (pretty cheap if u get secondhand, check facebook marketplace/craigslist). i got mad social anxiety myself so i understand sometimes you just can't, and this is an option for those that find public spaces overwhelming.
DIET
I personally don't think specialized diets/precise macro tracking is super duper important for newbies/casuals, only moderately important (spicy take for some but whatever). but you probably naturally will take an interest in diet once you realize it'll help you perform significantly better in the gym. the only macro i track is protein.
You can use a TDEE (total daily energy expenditure) calculator to roughly estimate the amount of protein you need for maximum gainz. it's usually around .7-1g of protein for every pound of lean body mass (weight that isn't fat mass). Imma be real it's pretty hard for me to hit the recommended protein goal and most days I don't because my appetite just can't kick in for the amount it demands, and protein is super filling. I found that if i decreased the amount of carbs i eat, i am able to consume more protein bc i guess there's more room in my stomach lol.
i eat a fuck ton of greek yogurt, chicken, fish, and tofu. when i started working out, i begin cooking a lot more and found i naturally craved less processed junk foods and snacks because the protein was keeping me full all day which is a plus! Even when im not regularly hitting my protein goal my gym progress is still going well and I think it's simply because my diet is A LOT better than what it used to be in my gremlin days.
I also eat a lot more now that i've gained a bit of muscle, so do be prepared for food costs to go up as your metabolism increases and demands more energy to upkeep your gainz.
HOW LONG DOES IT TAKE FOR ME TO LOOK LIKE A MUSCLE MOMMY????
a whileeee. over a year, probably, unless if you're on anabolic steroids (dont ever do that u will quite literally die). and physique is mostly from diet since it's dependent on your body fat percentage, the saying "abs are made in the kitchen" is true. its why you see hyper skinny terminally indoors gamer dudes with abs, even if they'd snap in half if you farted in their general direction. those mfs barely eat they too busy being gamers
i am no longer interested in lifting for aesthetics personally since i get more joy from hitting PRs and i'm pretty content with my body image, but ik physique is the reason why most people get into lifting so i'll touch on it.
Weightlifting on its own will not make you lose weight or fat. Again, it needs to be supplemented with a healthy sustainable diet (DO NOT DO CRASH DIETS THAT SHIT IS GARBAGE) and a form of cardio.
I actually gained 8lbs since I began lifting from water retention & new muscle mass (muscle is more dense than fat, your body retains water when repairing muscle after a gym sesh) but my measurements and pants size have remained the same. I'm short, so something as small as a 5lb increase usually bumped me up a pants size but it didn't this time bc im gettin swole :') if you want to track physique changes, measuring your waistline & progress pics is a better way to do so than the scale.
If you want bigger muscles, look into hypertrophy training. it's a tad different from strength training, mainly because you do higher reps at a lower weight.
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Eye of the Storm II
author note: okay okay so this turned out alot longer than i was expecting (*ﾉωﾉ) i just kept getting new ideas as I wrote and here we are. i don’t think I am the best at writing Malleus, but I wanna get better. i feel like reader just makes him feel like a soft pile of mush ♡( ◡‿◡ ) also more Lilia than i was expecting, for he is a comforting ear and also a meddling old man in equal measures
Please note that this is a female character.
characters: Malleus Draconia x F!Fae Reader
Some time had passed since you had been taken by Malleus from the clearing. You weren’t entirely sure on how long, it could have easily been days or weeks, the time blending into one. You had eventually been released from the tower, much to the upset of Malleus, and herded into another, more lavish suite. It was here that you had remained ever since.
The Crown Prince’s caretaker, Lilia, had insisted that you were not being held prisoner, and that you were instead a highly important, treasured guest. You weren’t sure how much you believed him. Once you were free of Malleus’ possessive hold, his demeanour had subtly changed. His cooing, soothing words that helped you escape the dragon’s grasp were long gone, and his hand on your shoulder felt heavy and foreboding. Your ‘light tea time conversation’ had been more of an interrogation as he prodded you on who you were, where you were from, what had happened that night... But you assume your answers had satisfied him. He was much kinder after that. And you were still alive, after all.
You often found yourself worrying about the situation in the Sombre Wilds. Lilia had vaguely implied that the situation had been dealt with, but refused to go into further detail when you asked. So you waited, waited and wondered what would end up becoming of you. You hadn’t seen Malleus since you had escaped from the tower, and you’d be lying if you said he hadn’t crossed your mind. Your feelings towards him were ambivalent, part of you wanting to be terrified of the fae that had spirited you away, but another part of you was... Curious. During your time with him in the tower, he had treated you with nothing but gentleness. Sure, there were a few times when he’d cage you to him, tense and possessive, always when someone tried to enter the room. But all other times, his touch was always light, like he was scared you’d shatter before his eyes.
Once again, you found your mind wandering to the events that had recently taken place, with you at the center...
“I hardly feel there is a need for this attitude, Malleus.”
Malleus continued to snarl above you, baring his fangs at the intruder by the door, keeping you pressed tight to him. You tried to peek a glance at who had entered the room, but the wings that encompassed you blocked any view that wasn’t the dragon fae himself.
A sigh. “Malleus, you are scaring her.”
You hadn’t even registered that you were trembling, but your body had chosen to betray your fear. Malleus’ growling abruptly ceased, but silence barely fell before a deep rumbling reverberated from his chest, the same sound that he had been making before. Soon you felt a pressure to the crown of your head, as he pressed his cheek against you in an attempt to soothe. You felt your waist squeezed again by the tail that was coiled around you, and his hold around you loosened a degree.
“Now, Malleus-- Don’t glare at me like that-- why don’t you let your... Treasure go, and we can--” The sudden click on the stone floor was all it took for the dragon fae to straighten and immediately begin seething again. Suddenly, a pressure started to build in the air around you, causing your skin to prickle and itch. Hold on... Was he casting?
“Okay, okay... I’ll stay back... There’s no need for magic, Malleus.” Despite the stranger’s attempts to appease the dragon, the pressure continued to build in the room as Malleus clearly had no intention of stopping. The air grew heavier, and you felt goose bumps prickle across your skin, and panic began to rise in you again. The intruder’s protests dimmed into the background as you realised you needed to intervene, lest there be catastrophic consequences with using such strong magic in such a small area.
Your heart pounded in your chest as you lifted a shaking hand, reaching up to cup the dragon fae’s cheek, albeit awkwardly. You prayed your actions didn’t come across as meek. But it was like he didn’t even notice you, growls still spilling from his throat as the pressure in the air only increased. Suddenly, a sensation bloomed in your chest, like a sudden hit of intuition and you knew what you had to do. Squirming in his arms and ignoring the burning blush on your cheeks, you rose your free hand to cup his other cheek and strengthened your grip, cupping his face firmly and drawing his attention to you, his sharp green eyes snapping towards to you. Taking a deep, steadying breath, you pressed your forehead against his. Just like he had done to you earlier, you brushed your thumbs in what you hoped was a soothing motion across the expanse of his cheeks.
The room went silent. The growls and snarls that were bubbling in Malleus’ throat died as he stared at you with wide eyes. The silence dragged and you held your breath, hoping such a bold gesture would be enough. Then slowly, oh so slowly the pressure from Malleus’ magic began to disperse, and you let out a sigh of relief. His hand snaked up from your back to curl into the hair at the back of your neck, his other arm holding you steady on his lap. He seemed to be fighting between the urge to keep you still and the urge to covet you closer.
You jumped at the sudden click of the door shutting, and your eyes shot open. With a stretch, you could just peek over his wings to see the room empty, the other man having fled thanks to your distraction. You released another heavy breath, belatedly realising that any potential escape also left the room with the mysterious other man.
A subtle squeeze at the back of your neck brought your attention back yet again to the dragon fae, and as your eyes met, you were taken aback by the intensity in his eyes. He stared at you with the most lovelorn expression, his gaze full of pining. You suddenly felt self-conscious, the weight of his gaze making you feel scrutinised. A soft but insistent pressure at the back of your neck had him guiding you back towards him until your foreheads were once again touching. You felt your cheeks begin to heat up again as he closed his eyes in contentment, as Malleus seemed to have decided that he was happy with this position. Maybe if you could just wait for him to fall asleep, you could slip away...
After that, the rest of your time in the tower was a blur. When you weren’t sleeping, you were being lavished with food finer than you’d ever seen, along with other precious trinkets which seemed to multiply every time you closed your eyes, for every time you awoke there would be a new jewel waiting for you. You stopped any escape attempts after the first failed try, if you could even call it that. Even when you thought he was asleep, you hadn’t even gotten two steps towards the door before he was suddenly behind you, puppy dog eyes in full force.
Eventually, Malleus’ season came to an end. And as if he knew, the previous man returned, Lilia as you are now aware, and managed to coax your freedom from the dragon. Or, not so much freedom. Everything you could possibly need had been delivered to you, but you had been politely requested to stay put. You wondered if you’d ever see the outside of these walls again.
As if on cue, a hollow knock sounded on the door and it opened before you could say a word. Ah, Lilia. Again. “Hello, dear F/N. I brought you some more books. I noticed you had taken to the more geographical variety of our books, so I think you’ll pleasantly enjoy these.” With a flick of his wrist, the books landed with a soft thump on one of the side tables.
“I want to go home.”
Lilia smiled, an infuriating one, at your retort, leaning a shoulder against the wall as he crossed his arms and appraised you, “you say that like we are holding you hostage. Come F/N, haven’t we treated you well?”
You gave him a tight lipped smile back. You always felt you needed to be on your toes around this particular fae, it was as if he was always one step ahead, as if he could lead you into a trap at any moment. “Undoubtedly, but I believe I have outstayed my welcome.”
Both of you stared at each other in silence, a staring contest that had become a regular part of your routine. All it ever ended in was him brushing you off before conveniently finding a reason to excuse himself, so you were surprised when he left out a heavy sigh and pushed himself upright and made his way over towards the lounge chairs.
“No one has ever said you can’t go home,” Lilia began, as he gestured for you to take a seat beside him. You remained standing. “However, this is a rather... Sensitive matter. Of course, the upmost importance is keeping you safe.”
Keeping you safe? Your eyes narrowed, “what does that mean?”
The corner of his lip quirks upwards. “Surely you understand how special you are? I can promise you, we are in... Negotiations to allow you home, but they have not been progressing as smoothly as we’d like. And I reiterate, keeping you unharmed is imperative.”
“Unharmed?!” you couldn’t help your outburst, shocked by the tone he was taking, talking as if there was suddenly a target on your back, “I would be in no danger at home, what are you-- And I can assure you, I am not some sort of important public figure, you’ve got the wrong idea! I am just a regular woman, who was in the wrong place at the wrong time!”
Lilia’s eyes softened as you spoke, as if he pitied you. He patted the chair beside him, more firmly this time, and after a moment’s hesitation, you crossed the room to slip into the seat beside him. “I believe you. But it is not a risk we are willing to take,” you opened your mouth to retort, but Lilia gently raised a finger to stop you, “... You may have been a normal woman when you entered that clearing, my dear, but everything changed when you left it.” Lilia gently placed a hand on the arm of your chair as he stared at you with eyes full of compassion, “dragons mate for life, F/N.”
You felt your breath stick in your throat at his words, but Lilia didn’t stop. “You’ll have to forgive me, I was sceptical at first. I too wondered if you had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. But I have observed, and I have verified. You and Malleus are soulmates, F/N.”
You felt your chest tighten and a lump form in your throat at the heaviness of Lilia’s words. Soulmates? What sort of absurd claim was this? You felt your skin grow clammy, and you huffed out a shuddered breath, “I don’t understand...--”
“I have been Malleus’ caretaker since he first crept from his shell, F/N. You’d have difficulty finding someone who knows him as personally as I. And yet despite that, there would have been no chance of me calming him when he was in his frenzied state in the tower. But all it took from you was a simple touch, don’t you find that odd? A territorial, possessive dragon, ready to strike, yet you pressed your head to his and he calmed. It’s no coincidence, F/N.”
You sank back into your chair, at a loss for words. You didn’t want to believe it - it felt ludicrous to you. As far as you knew, there were no belief of soulmates in the Sombre Wilds, so this sudden concept being thrust upon you that you and Malleus were tied together by fate?
“Perhaps now you can understand why we have been having such difficulties in arranging your return.” Lilia flashed you a sympathetic smile and drew his hand back, leaning back in his chair, “one of our proposals was that when you returned home, you would return with protection. Specifically, a guard. However, that proposal was not very well received...”
You could understand why. Relations weren’t exactly the best between the Valley of Thorns and the Sombre Wilds. “... And the other proposal?”
“To put it bluntly, you would remain here. We would provide you with everything you needed to ensure you were comfortable, and we’d even be willing to arrange a delegation from the Sombre Wilds to take up permanent residence in Briar Valley as a show of good faith.”
You scrubbed a hand across your face, trying to process all of which you’d just been told. To you, both proposals seemed drastic. You felt you were stuck in a particularly problematic tug of war, with you being the rope. Suddenly, you felt very overwhelmed and timid, “I just-- I... I just want to go home.”
“I know, F/N. But if anything were to happen to you, a war would be guaranteed. And forgive my selfishness, but I don’t wish to see another war. Not when it can be so easily avoided.”
You bit down on your lip, the gravity of the situation weighing heavily on your soul. It wasn’t just your life on the line here, it was a decision that could affect hundreds, no, thousands of others. With that perspective in mind, your own feelings felt insignificant.
You sighed heavily, feeling almost defeated in the face of this issue that you had no idea that was playing out around you. “... So where do we go from here?”
“Unfortunately, we have hit an impasse as far as negotiations have been going,” suddenly Lilia flashed you a fanged smile, perhaps in an attempt to lighten the mood, “although there is something that you might be able to assist me with...” You already had a bad feeling about this.
“You see, Malleus is currently unaware of your desire to leave, but who better than yourself to inform him of this news?” You balked, your mouth dropping open. “I-i hardly feel like that is appropriate!” You protested, cursing internally as you felt your cheeks flush red at the idea.
“Why not? He’d listen to you more than he’d listen to anyone else. I doubt he’d have the heart to refuse you. If I tried to broach the subject, Briar Valley would be looking at storms for the next month, at least. And at worst... Well, I doubt you want another repeat of the tower incident, hm?”
You deadpanned at the thought. Either way, it sounded like you could end up in the tower again regardless of who broke the news to Malleus, if he didn’t like what he heard.
“Besides, wouldn’t it be nice for you and Malleus to have a chat? It’s been a while since you’ve seen each other.” You looked at Lilia as if he had lost his mind, but he just continued to give you a toothy grin.
“When should I do it?”
“Well... No time like the present, no?”
...
And that is why you were stood outside two of quite possibly the most imposing doors you’d ever seen. Even the doors of the throne room in the Sombre Wilds paled in comparison. And these were just bedroom doors.
“... Are you sure this uh... Location is appropriate for this conversation?” You asked Lilia, lips pressing into a line as you doubted this was truly the best move you both could be making.
“I don’t see why not. It’s a similar suite to your own and offers the privacy needed for such a conversation.” Lilia replied nonchalantly, although you had a sneaking suspicion he was gaining amusement from your awkwardness.
“And you’ll be there too?”
“Of course, I’m happy to offer my support.”
You turned back towards the doors, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t feeling psyched out by the imposing sight. You had no idea what awaited you in there. Would Malleus attempt to keep you captive again? Or would he be cold and uninviting? Would it be... Awkward?
You didn’t have much longer to worry, as Lilia pressed a hand to your shoulder, gave it a squeeze and herded you forwards, giving the door a quick knock before you could protest. “Everything will be fine. Come on.” Before you could protest, Lilia had already opened the door and lightly pushed you inside. You could curse him as you heard the door creak shut and turned to see that Lilia had in fact not joined you.
Reluctantly, you turned away from the door and took in the room before you. Like Lilia said, it was a suite like your own but... Far grander. The lounge area alone left an impression, with plush looking chairs and an equally inviting loveseat nestled in one corner of the room. A low table sat nearby, with a beautiful dragon carving decorating the middle. Your eyes trailed until they fell upon the large arched windows, and that’s when you noticed Malleus.
He seemed to be gazing at nothing, his lips fixed in a line. You couldn’t help but think that the light filtering through the windows gave him an almost ethereal look, whilst also giving him quite the imposing shadow. It felt odd in a way, seeing him without wings or a tail. His horns, however, remained. You felt something in your chest flutter, but shoved the feeling down and played it off to nerves as you gingerly approached, your fingers tangling together in front of you.
“Lilia, I told you I didn’t want to be disturbed.” The best way to describe Malleus’ expression would have been petulant as he turned away from the window, a pout pressed into his cheeks before it all fell away, his eyes widening in shock when his gaze fell on you instead of his caretaker. You realised that this was the first time you’d actually heard Malleus speak, and a faint dusting of pink littered your cheeks when you noticed that it sounded akin to his growls.
You shook the thought from your head as you tried to find your voice, “Ah... I’m sorry I didn’t realise this was a bad time... Lilia told me that... Yeah...” Lilia seemed to tell you many things. “I can come back another time if...”
“No! No... You... You are never a disturbance.” Malleus uttered gently, stepping away from the window to close some of the distance between you. You felt your cheeks heat at his words, and prayed that the dim of the room would hide it. You couldn’t allow yourself to be flustered, you needed to get this over with and ask--
“I trust you have been well? I ordered that your comfort be ensured. I wanted to see you but... Lilia suggested I give you some time to adjust... He told me you have been enjoying books, I have a private collection you may find to your liking, please treat it as your own, I--”
“I-i would like to go h-home.” You felt your chest squeeze as the words rushed out of you in a flurry, and you watched as his expression froze, before his lips pressed back into a thin line and his expression became unreadable. You wrung your hands nervously, as silence stretched between you.
“I see.” More silence. You felt your heartrate rise, swallowing the rising lump in your throat. You rattled your brain, trying to find something to say, whether to convince him or just to end this deafening silence.
“Did I... Fail to meet your needs?” You felt your heart clench at his words, guilt pooling in you as despite how neutral he attempted to keep his expression, you could still catch the glimmer of hurt in his eyes.
“It’s not that! I-i was very comfortable but... But this isn’t my home. My whole life is in the Wilds, I can’t just... Leave...” Silence again. You could feel yourself cracking slightly under the pressure, and you began to babble before you could stop yourself.
“A-and we don’t even know each other! You’re a Prince, the Prince of the Valley of Thorns, and I’m just... I’m just a regular woman from a kingdom that is rarely acknowledged by the rest of the world! I-i... I don’t know--”
You hadn’t even registered Malleus moving, until he was right in front of you. Even in a less draconic form, he towered above you. With a crooked finger, he brushed a strand of hair that had fallen into your face, likely from your frenzied babbling. The motion was hesitant and awkward, like he was unsure if he was touching you correctly, a world of difference from when he was carrying you around in the tower weeks earlier.
“I would like to know you.” He said softly, and your cheeks flushed, from his words and your own embarrassing prattling. How were you supposed to respond to that? You took a deep breath and tried to steel yourself.
“... It’s not fair for me to have to change my entire life...” You spoke firmly, even if you did feel a little intimidated by your close proximity. It was difficult, it felt like you were kicking a puppy every time you rebuffed him. You watched as Malleus’ brow furrowed at your words, his hand pulling away from your cheek and arms folding.
“But I don’t want you to change. I like you how you are.” Malleus was perplexed, unable to grasp what particularly was making you feel the need to leave. To leave him.
It was odd, having someone so innocently proclaim their desire for you. It fell so easily from his lips, and whilst his gestures were hesitant, his words never were. You felt bashful under both the weight of his gaze and words. You remembered Lilia’s words, about how difficult arranging your departure was, and how different your life would be now regardless of whether you ever got back to the Sombre Wilds. You were proclaiming to be ordinary but Lilia was clear - your life would never be ordinary after this.
“If I may, I have a suggestion.”
You startled, nearly jolting into Malleus, who put a steadying hand on your shoulder. Your head whipped round, seeing Lilia once again leaning by the door. Oh, so now he decided to show up? You couldn’t help the glare that you shot his way, and clearly you weren’t the only one who felt this way, as Malleus glowered at him from above you. He only shot you both a fang toothed grin in response.
“I think the two of you could benefit from a... Level playing field, so to speak. A neutral location. It would give you the time and opportunity to get to know each other, but in a location that would feel more comfortable for F/N. Let’s say we try it for... A year,” You opened your mouth to protest, but Lilia lifted a finger to hush you, continuing on, “That way, It’ll give us the time needed to iron out the details of your return to the Sombre Wilds, should you still be steadfast in your wish to leave. And surely it’ll be much more interesting than spending all day in your suite, no?”
You mulled this new proposal over. Was this why Lilia was absent? Had he anticipated something like this occurring? His eyes and smile gave nothing away, and it only unnerved you more. Just how many steps ahead was he?
“... What location did you have in mind?”
Lilia grinned, what appeared to be a mischievous glint in his eye, “F/N, have you ever heard of Night Raven College?”
#twst#twisted wonderland#disney twisted wonderland#disney twst#malleus draconia#twst malleus#malleus x y/n#malleus x reader#malleus draconia x reader#malleus draconia x y/n#twst x reader#twst x y/n#twisted wonderland x reader#twst fic
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WIP Wednesday 🥃
Tagged by @ladydorian05 @daffi-990 @the-likesofus @loserdiaz @heartshapedvows @hoodie-buck @honestlydarkprincess @spotsandsocks @eddiebabygirldiaz @wikiangela @wildlife4life @jesuisici33 @stereopticons @watchyourbuck @buddierights (it’s been a day, I’m sorry, I’ll get to all your undoubtedly magnificent snippets)
No pressure tagging @shortsighted-owl @disasterbuckdiaz @giddyupbuck my love @lizzie-bennetdarcy @monsterrae1 @mysteriouslyyounggalaxy @eddiediaztho @thewolvesof1998 @forthewolves @your-catfish-friend @statueinthestone @911onabc @pirrusstuff @fionaswhvre @barbiediaz @eowon @spaceprincessem @apothecarose @rmd-writes @welcometololaland @vanillahigh00 @steadfastsaturnsrings and anyone else who wants to
Have a little more drunk Buck from you’re where I wanna go
The planks that make up the floor twist and bend, the whorls and knots spiraling like galaxies in front of him, making it impossible to tell where his next step should be. Eventually he makes it to the door, stumbling out into the night. The temperature dropped significantly since he arrived hours ago and he wishes he had brought a heavier coat.
Buck rubs at his arms and watches with fascination as his breath forms in front of him. He’s briefly warmed by the memory of doing the same thing with Maddie when they were younger. How they would stand outside, with red noses and cheeks, watching the puffs of air crystallize. He giggles thinking about another time she came to his rescue because Henry, one of the neighbor kids, dared him to lick a lamppost and his tongue froze to it.
She was so upset. Not so much with Buck as with the other kid. Her face went beet red and she clenched her fists at her waist. Buck was sure she was going to punch Henry and give him a black eye. It turned out to be that much better when she marched up to him, grabbed both sides of his trousers and yanked. Needless to say, Henry never bothered Buck again.
Why is it taking so long to get back? Did it take this much time to get here? Did he take a carriage? God, he doesn’t even remember. The more he tries to recall the fuzzier the details become. None of the immediate surroundings, mostly dark shops and alleyways, look familiar.
Part of him wants to vow he’ll never let himself get this drunk again without a solid plan to get home. The more realistic part scoffs, knowing he will absolutely do this again. Ever since he returned to Philadelphia this has been his routine. Day to day, sunrise to sunset, Buck exists as a ghost. As a shell of a human, a complex network of bone, muscle, neurons and cells that give the illusion of life.
He turns a corner only to be confronted with a dead end. Frustrated, he punches the closest wall and immediately regrets it as his knuckles scrape against brick.
“Dammit!” Buck spins around, nearly losing his balance and falling to the street.
Masculine voices come from somewhere behind him. Or maybe to the side? His current state distorts the sound, making it difficult to pinpoint. Buck gets the sense he should be more concerned than he is when they begin to sound like they’re getting closer.
Is that the same apothecary as before? How many could there be? He continues taking bumbling steps, trying to focus on determining where he is. Maybe he should give up, tuck himself into a doorway, and try again in the morning. He’s definitely done that before. But then he remembers he isn’t wearing the proper coat and has enough sense to know he doesn’t want to freeze before morning.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he mutters to himself. Where the fuck is home? Something brushes at the edge of his thoughts, reminding him he’s not going home. Home is hundreds, if not thousands, of miles away from here.
#poor buck is lost in more ways than one#wip wednesday#buddie wip#fic: you’re where i wanna go#historical au
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Caving In [3]
Pairing: Gar Logan x Fem!Powered!Reader, Jason Todd x Fem!Powered!Reader
Words: 7,023
Chapter Warnings: Swearing, hurt/comfort, a nightmare, flirting, fluff, jason and reader trauma-bonding, talks of abuse (it’s not super detailed), mentions of food being withheld, gar feels like his trauma isn’t “enough” (unrelated to the trauma-bonding), mentions of death, mentions of drug addiction, mentions of bruises
Summary: ❝Tell me Atlas:
What is heavier,
The world or its people’s hearts?❞
You never expected your life to end up this way, turned upside down by an infamous Gotham villain. It’s been a living hell, every single day, until Dick Grayson brings you to Titans tower where you meet Gar Logan and Jason Todd.
A/N: So, this is the chapter where I decided to change who the fic was about because I mean hi lol so this chapter is Jason heavy 😂 I am easily motivated to post more often when I get feedback 😂 The first few chapters take place between season 2 episode 1 and season 2 episode 2. You can add yourself the tag list below, ask me to be tagged, or you can follow my library blog @jasntoddslibrary and turn on notifications if you prefer that!!
series masterlist | masterlist | tag list
The movie came to a close twenty minutes ago, Rachel already off to her room to get some sleep but Gar and Jason are still in the living room with you asleep. Gar doesn’t want to move you, he’s never been a big fan of waking people up when they’re asleep, especially when it’s obvious they haven’t slept very much. On top of that though, he’s not sure if waking you up would scare you and then you’d burn him or something. So, he figures it might be best to just let you sleep. Jason volunteered to hang out with him for a little bit anyway.
Jason looks over and his eyes just land on you. You look peaceful and kind of nice when you’re not being a snarky bitch to him. Though, he does kind of give as good as he gets not that he’d ever admit that of course. And maybe he likes that you actually have a bit of fire in your words when you talk to him. Gar and Rachel normally brush off his mean and sarcastic comments and Dick can never be bothered. You though, you play along and maybe he thinks it’s a little fun.
“Why are you staring at her, dude? It’s weird.” Gar looks away from his phone to look at Jason.
Jason shakes his head, grabbing his own phone to scroll through Twitter. “I wasn’t staring.” He mutters, his cheeks turning a bright red.
“Yeah, you were.” Gar insists. “Don’t make it weird, she’s nice and it’s cool to have someone new around.”
“I’m not making it fucking weird, man.” Jason sighs before he looks back over, glancing between Gar and you. “You gonna go for it though?” Jason raises his brows with the question, choosing to deflect.
Gar’s eyes narrow in disbelief. “I just said don’t make it weird.” Gar’s voice goes up an octave with his words. “She’s been here a day.”
Jason chuckles more to himself than at Gar. “I’m just trying to figure out the rules. You’re my friend and I don’t wanna overstep, man.” He has this grin that absolutely says he will overstep if not told otherwise.
Gar’s forehead wrinkles with Jason’s words and if it were anyone else, maybe he’d be surprised by how fast he wants this move but it’s Jason. The same guy who uses 420 and 69 (or both together) as passcodes so Gar can’t actually be too surprised. And Gar also knows that if he doesn’t answer Jason, Jason is going to do what he wants. He’s an asshole, sure, but he’s not a half-bad friend, actually.
“I don’t know.” Gar shakes his head, almost rolling his eyes. “I haven’t thought about it.”
Jason hums. “So, I can go for it then? If I want?” Jason asks and then quickly follows up with more. “Not that I do, I’m just asking.”
“Right.” Gar deadpans and you aren’t an article of clothing they’re swapping because it’s nice or something.
You’re a living breathing human being who has the right to make your own decisions. Of course, Gar knows that’s not what Jason is getting at during this or anything. He’s asking if he can flirt or try to actually get with you if you’re interested but it doesn’t make Gar feel any better. You’ve been here a day and maybe Gar just wants you to settle in before Jason jumps down your throat about it. And, to be completely fair, Gar does think you’re very pretty but he actually wants to take the time to get know you before he decides if he’d even be interested. He’s just here having fun learning to be a Titan.
“Maybe we just let her come to us if she’s interested.” Gar proposes, a partial way to get Jason to drop it. “After, she actually gets settled.”
“Hey,” Jason defends himself, but his voice is still quieter than it normally is. “It’s just a question, she seemed to be comfortable around you is all.” Jason glances to you once more before going back to his phone. “Obviously.”
“Can we drop this? She is right here.” Gar slightly shifts in his seat, not enough to wake up you.
“She’s asleep.” Jason scoffs before looking back at Gar who just looks annoyed. “Alright, damn chill out. I’ll leave her alone for a while.”
Gar nods, not having anything else to add on the topic and Jason drops it. The boys go back to their phones and have some conversation here and there about Twitter threads and TikToks they find. Nothing substantial really comes from any of it but both of them enjoy the time. Gar actually likes hanging out with Jason like this, he hasn’t had a best friend in a long time and this feels normal to him. Turning into a tiger usually makes him feel a little freakish, especially after spending so much time at Doom Manor where they were pretty much described as freaks. It was hurtful, he just wants to be normal and having movie nights with Jason and Rachel feels normal.
It doesn’t matter how much trauma any of them have when there’s a movie on and they’re just hanging out. It’s just them and when it’s him and Jason, that’s all there is. Normalcy. Even with you, a new girl, sleeping on him. In a way, it even feels a little comforting with you laying your head on him because he’s not a scary tiger. He’s just a boy.
After another half hour, Jason leaves Gar to head to the training room. Gar tried to convince him to go to bed but Jason doesn’t listen to anyone so now it’s just Gar and you. He’s getting tired himself and he’s heavily debating on waking you up so he can go in his own bed. But, the debate doesn’t last long because suddenly, you shoot off of his shoulder, heaving for air. You sit forward, eyes wide as Gar slightly jerks away from you as a reflex.
“Are…are you okay?” He asks, leaning back over and forward to get a look at your face.
You suck in a breath, your chest heaving with every breath and your heart pounding. You barely even comprehend you’re still in the living room when Gar asks you the question. All you can do is nod and try to breathe. This is really going to be your life now? Tortured in reality by a psychopath and now tortured in a dream state by the same fucking psychopath? How the fuck is that fair? You finally escaped only to be haunted by your dreams in a place you actually kind of, sort of, feel safe in.
“Nightmare?” Gar asks, not moving from his position.
You turn your head to the right to look over your shoulder back at Gar. “Y-yeah.” You nod softly before looking forward, shaking your head. “Sorry.”
Gar’s brows furrow. “For what?”
“Uh…” No one’s asked you what you’re sorry for before. You’re always supposed to be sorry for either getting angry or upset or having a smart-ass comment. There’s always something you’re supposed to apologize for. “Falling asleep, falling asleep on you….” You pause. “Nightmare.”
“You,” Gar leans forward some more, a little closer to you to try and offer you comfort in the only way he knows how. “You don’t have to be sorry for any of that. It’s okay.”
You glance over at him and the way he looks at you make you feel like porcelain. Fragile and weak. It’s not a feeling you like very much. But his eyes are warm and kind, so kind that they make you want to tell him your whole life story without ever coming up for a breath of fresh air. And it makes you feel warm.
“Do you wanna talk about it? Sometimes it helps.” Gar offers with a welcoming but small smile.
You look over to him again, your eyes dodging his this time. You can feel the flame in your belly flickering, it wants to go out so bad. It’s been wanting to go out the last few months, the last few months you were held. At the beginning, it was bonfire in your stomach. The second even a drop of gasoline were to land, it would all blow. But the gasoline never dripped or spilled. It sat in the corner and taunted you and the flame died down. And you’re so tired of it.
You want the fight back and maybe talking about it would help you feel better but you don’t want to feel better. You want to be pissed and angry and furious and you want the fucking fire back so you can hunt the bastard down yourself. But then you look at Gar again and he’s soft. It’s like you’re this tea light and he’s a glass lamp over you. Not burning out the flame but keeping it going just enough to function.
“Um…” You pause, leaning back against the couch. “It’s just….uh…i-it’s like I’m back there again.” You admit. “A-and he-he’s right there.” You stutter while Gar watches. “J-just f-fucking taunting me, k-knowing I-I can’t do anything. Fuck.” You swallow hard, not even realizing you were practically holding your breath.
Gar turns in his spot so he can better face you, never moving away from you. “What happened?” Gar asks calmly. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” Gar adds on, never wanting you to feel pressured about it.
You hang your head, then shake it. He’s going to give you the look. The pitiful look you got when your mom died. It’s the same look everyone always gives, you’re guilty of giving the look, too but it makes you shift and it make you feel uneasy. You get it, feeling bad for people who experience trauma. It’s natural but you don’t find it comforting and maybe you would find it easier if he had something snarky to say. Make it easier with humor, it’s what you do anyway.
“W-what’s the worst thing you’ve heard someone go through?” You ask, pulling the sleeves of your hoodie over your hands.
Gar sighs, thinking about it but he didn’t think very long before he starts talking, thinking maybe if you know what he’s seen and heard, it’ll make you trust him enough to talk to him. “Rachel, probably.” He answers honestly. “Her mom, who wasn’t her real mom, was shot in front of her. Then, she was locked away,” Gar says. “Only for a few hours but locked away for her powers.” He adds in. “Then,” He pauses and your brows go up in surprise. “We found her real mom who convinced her to bring in her demon dad to save my life. He possessed all of our friends and then got them to almost beat me to death in front of her.” Gar lists, reliving all of it in quick images. “Trigon,” You look at him quizzically. “Demon dad.” Gar clarifies. “Killed her real mom and then Rachel killed him.”
You sit there for a second and you really thought you had it bad. Of course, what you went through was still terrible but you do not want to play trauma Olympics with Rachel that’s for damn sure. But, Rachel seems okay, weirdly enough. You aren’t sure how long ago all of that was but Rachel does seem okay and even happy which gives you the one thing you haven’t had in months. Hope.
“Well…okay.” You nod slowly, taking in the information.
“Oh!” Gar says, remembering to add more. “We were also being chased by people who were trying to kill her because of her powers.” Gar lets out a breath, his nonchalant add-in almost makes you laugh. What the fuck?
You blink a few times. “I….I don’t even know what to say to all of that.”
“Yeah,” Gar chuckles softly. “It was pretty crazy.”
“No fucking shit.” You laugh softly. “That’s fucked up.”
Gar nods. “Yeah, but she’s okay now.” Gar assures you.
“She seems to like it. This place help?” Your eyes glance to your hands and then back to Gar.
Gar nods once more. “Yeah,” He shrugs a shoulder. “I think it does.”
It’s helped him a little bit. But, he doesn’t think his trauma is worth talking about. It’s not as bad as Rachel’s or yours. It was a disease, sure his was different, but it was a disease and people get diseases all the time. Some people live and some people die because that’s how it works. He turns into a green tiger but is that really trauma? In the grand scheme of the conversation? Gar doesn't really think so. So, he keeps the idea of the Tower and the people helping him cope to himself.
“I-it was just…hell.” You suck in a breath, deciding to tell him a little bit. “I was there for a while and this,” You gesture over your face. “Was pretty normal.” You chew the inside of your cheek. “I-I, uh, I-I thought he was gonna…kill me for a while.” You swallow. “I think he wanted to.”
“I’m sorry.” Gar’s brows knit together with sympathy and there’s the look.
You can’t handle the look, not from him. Clearly, he’s seen and heard a lot but now maybe you don’t want to burden him with your shit. He’s been through his own and clearly knows Rachel’s, you can only assume he knows some of Jason’s shit, whatever it is. To you, Gar seems like the person everyone goes to with their problems and you don’t want to stick that burden on him. Not with eyes as caring and gentle as his. It breaks your heart to even be sitting here telling him anything. So, you quit.
“Um…” You shake your head “I’m sorry, I don’t wanna talk about it.” You shut down and Gar just nods.
“It’s okay.” Gar assures you as you get up from the couch.
“I’m…I’m gonna walk.” You fake a smile at him. “Clear my head. Thanks for letting me sleep, Gar.”
“If you need to talk, you can talk to me.” Gar stands up with you, worried he overstepped. “I didn’t mean to--”
“No.” You cut him off quickly. “You didn’t…it’s not like that. I….just. It’s so fucking fresh and you….” You suck your teeth, brows furrowing together as if you’re in pain. “You make me feel normal and I don’t wanna ruin that.” You divert your eyes to the floor. “I’m sorry…thank you.” You look back up at him before turning on your heels and head into the left hallway, disappearing into the shadows.
Gar watches you disappear, kicking himself. He thinks he made it worse. He’s just trying to be there for you but he’s slowly figuring out that that’s not something you want. Not in the talking about-it way, anyway. It’s like you just want to be distracted from it all which Gar can’t blame you for. He can only really imagine what happened from his and Jason’s little bit of research and what information you did give him. His heart aches for you but he’ll never push you to tell him anything. Instead, he goes to his room but he leaves the door cracked just in case you change your mind.
You find yourself wandering the halls until you reach the training room. There you find Jason back at the punching bag. You pull out the phone Dick gave you earlier today and it’s three in the morning. Suddenly, you feel even worse about falling asleep on Gar given how late it is. But, you choose not to focus on the guilt in your stomach and instead on Jason. You stand in the doorway, confused why he would train at this hour. Is he insane?
“Do you ever stop training?” You ask, arms crossed as you’re leaning against one of the sliding doors.
Jason jumps, spinning around quickly. “Fuck, how long have you been standing there?” Jason almost yells at you.
You snicker with a shrug. “Few seconds.”
“What do you want?” He asks and he’s as snarky as ever which makes you happy. It’s like he treats you normally. Not that the others don’t but you can tell it’s like they’re tip-toeing but Jason doesn’t.
You walk in just a few feet, looking around before looking back at Jason. “Was just walking around.”
“That’s fucking weird.”
Jason didn’t expect to see you for the rest of the night. He kind of figured if you woke up, you’d just go to your room, not walk around. Or maybe, you’d be with Gar but you’re here in the training room with him. And maybe despite the snarkiness, he wants you to stay. Maybe the comments will make you want to stay, for entertainment. You seem to like the challenge.
“You’re the one punching a bag at three in the fucking morning. You’re being weird, dude.” You snark with the raise of your brows and Jason deadpans before returning to the bag.
You watch him a little longer and this is your opportunity to ask him to help you. No one else is here and you can only assume Gar went to bed so it’s just you two. He’s clearly dedicated so maybe he’ll want to help anyway. If not, you figure you’ll just hold the little bet over his head.
You close the distance, walking over toward the punching bag. “You’re so….”
“Charming?” Jason glances at you as he punches the bag. “Amazing?” He punches again. “Hot?” He flashes a cocky grin and you sigh.
“I was gonna say snippy, actually.”
“You’re fucking annoying you know that?” Jason snarks.
“Mmm.” You click your tongue a grin pulling at your lips as you point a finger at him. “There it is.”
“Seriously, what do you want?” Jason stops, facing you with annoyance.
“Train me, Dick said I’m not ready.” You hold your head up, crossing your arms across your chest.
Jason pauses, the question catching him off guard. You don’t actually look like you’re in any condition to train, not that Jason really ever agrees with Dick. Bruce doesn’t think he should be Robin but Jason knows he’s ready to get back to it so in a way, Jason understands why you’re asking. Feeling ready, but the adults want to think they know what’s best. It’s shitty. But Jason likes a good fight.
“What happened to you?” The snarkiness leaves his voice as he nods his head up at you and you’re taken aback. Jason, not asking a snarky question? Now, that’s weird.
“Why do you wanna know?” Your voice is level, eyes slight narrowed.
Jason pauses. He’s actually just curious. He knows his motive for wanting to train harder and better and faster than everyone else but what’s yours? Unless yours is going after whoever did whatever it was to you. But now you have powers so you could just take them out with those. You don’t need the combat, really. Jason just wants to know and maybe he has a little more stake in it. He does care about it, even though he acts like he doesn’t. He’s not completely heartless. Plus, maybe it’ll give him bonus points.
“Curious.” Jason shrugs, eyes glancing from your socks to your face.
“You just wanna see all the trauma?” You raise and Jason shrugs, his brows raising quickly as if to be saying ‘why not’ and his nonchalant attitude with the mix of snark gives you enough reason to challenge him a little but take the risk in having to spill. You take a few steps towards him. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.” You close the small distance between you standing just an inch away from him. Jason’s breath hitches in his throat for just a second as he looks to you. The look in your eyes sends a shiver down his spine and he’s ready to play the game.
“Asked you first.” Jason doesn’t move from his stance, instead he holds still, looking at you with his eyes locked on yours and he sees a grin coming to your face.
“Alright,” You take one step back. “But don’t make it all emotional or some shit.” You plop down on the floor in front of him, sitting with your legs crossed, Jason taking a breath finally.
He said he wouldn’t. He told Gar he’d leave you alone for a little while but what is he supposed to do when you initiate it? Jason is not gonna back down from that. And, he thinks it’s fun. You play the game and lean into the challenge instead of backing away. It’s only when Jason goes to play, too that you switch it up like a game of cat and mouse. It’s thrilling a little.
Jason chuckles but follows your lead. “You always sit on the floor?”
“You always in here?” You quip.
“Shut up.” Jason shakes his head but a smile still tugs at his lips. “So, spill your guts.”
“It’s not getting that deep, bud.” You scoff but match the smile.
This is what you were thinking when talking to Gar. Gar makes it feel vulnerable, talking about it. That’s not how you want to feel about it. You want to feel strong and fiery. It’s not Gar’s fault, you can tell it’s because he just really, truly cares and feels bad about whatever it is. But, Jason, it’s like he cares but only out of curiosity not because he’s trying to save you or help you.
“Mom was killed by the Joker,” You start, gauging Jason’s face as you talk. “Dad’s a meth addict, a great parental figure obviously.” You say sarcastically. “Went into foster care, Jerry.” You grimace with his name and you try to dodge the feeling of agony and fear when you say his name. “Was my foster dad if you can even call him that.” You scoff. “He wanted to make superhumans. He used me as a test subject, I think for himself to see if anything would work. I had so many things injected I lost count over the year. He kept me chained in a basement and because none of that was quite bad enough, the fucker decided to beat me, too when I didn’t show signs of powers. He’d withhold food, all that shit. I survived mostly off of chicken noodle soup. He beat me so bad, I guess he thought I was dead and dumped in an alley and now I’m here.” You keep your voice nonchalant and steady, listing off your past like some recap of a sitcom.
Jason keeps his eyes on you and he doesn’t know what to say. It’s rare to get him speechless but here he is, without a single word in his head. How is he even supposed to respond to that? It just sounds terrible and horrifying.
“How long did he keep you like that?” He settles on the question, knowing talking about the events in Gotham is a sore spot for him.
“A year, I think. Lost track a bit.” You answer with a shrug, silently begging him to have something snarky or sarcastic to say because now it’s all too real and you wish you could turn back the clock and not say anything.
“That’s fucked up. He’d just experiment on you and fucked you up cause he could?” Jason asks as if not really believe what he’s hearing. People are terrible.
“Mhm.” You hum.
“Fuck that guy, he’s a piece of fucking shit, alright?" There’s a fury in his voice this time and it makes you smile just a little bit. He’s not sorry, he just thinks Jerry is a shitty person.
“No shit.” You huff.
“It worked though, he gave you powers. Why the fuck wouldn’t you have used them?” Jason’s expression changes to confusion. “I’m not blaming you.” Jason defends his words, feeling like it might have come off a bit like victim blaming. “I’m just curious.”
“I was afraid he’d kill me knowing that it worked. I…uh, I learned how to stay calm when he’d come at me so I pissed him off really bad a few days ago. The calmer I was, the more angry he’d get.”
“You got him to do that to you on purpose?” Jason practically yells.
He’s not sure what he expected, really. He kind of just thought it got too bad one day. It lead you to that alley. He didn’t think you actually got someone to do that to you.
You nod, a feeling of shame taking over. “I couldn’t escape any other way. I knew if I could piss him off really really bad, he’d come at me like never before. I could pretend like he killed me or put me into a coma, caused a massive brain bleed, ya know? Something, he would dump me somewhere. It was that or he was gonna kill anyway.” You pause. “Backfired a little, he did come back and I guess thought throwing a few more punches would wake me up.”
“You just played dead the whole time?” There’s a pain in Jason’s voice and he thought this could turn into something of fun, quick-witted jokey conversation but he just feels like you kicked off a cliff.
“Oh, no, I was actually knocked unconscious most of the time while all of it was going on.” You nod casually.
“Fuck.” Jason lets out a breath before continuing. “That’s kind of badass though.” Jason states giving you a grin, you shaking your head and jerking backward in confusion. “You just took him beating the fuck outta you. That’s fucking crazy.”
You laugh softly. “Yeah, dude’s got a hell of an arm and a kick, a-fucking-parently.” Jason’s brows raise as if to be asking for context. “Found more bruises when I showed today, got a nice boot print on my back.” A scoff leaves the back of your throat.
“Fuck that guy, alright?” Jason says, growing angry at the conversation. Who does that to someone for no reason? He kicks ass every night in Gotham as Robin but those people deserve it. What did you ever do to this guy who was supposed to protect you and keep you safe? It’s not right. “He’s a piece of shit and you didn’t deserve that shit. I'll hunt the monster down for you if I have to.”
You furrow your brows. “That’s a kind offer.”
“I’m fucking Robin!” Jason tosses his hands out, gesturing into his chest and outward again. “It’s my job to hunt those dickweeds down!”
You let out a genuine laugh. He is pretty funny actually and he’s not the Robin that let the Joker kill your mom. You actually think Jason would kill the bad guys if he were allowed to. “Mhm.” You hum. “Which is why you’re the best Robin.”
“You think so?” Jason asks, the joy in his voice makes you giggle. “I know I am but Dick and Bruce...” He pauses for a second. “They don’t think so.”
“Well, Dick and Bruce don’t know shit.” You hold your head up high, and you truly think Jason is the better Robin. You’ve seen the YouTube videos.
“Thanks.” Jason offers a sincere smile. “That why you wanna train? Hunt him down yourself kind of deal?”
“Yeah, if I ever see the piece of shit I don’t wanna give him the satisfaction of knowing it worked. I wanna beat the fuck with my bare fucking hands like he did to me.” There it is, the fire you’ve been looking for. You want him to suffer at your own hands. No one else, just you and him and you want to watch everything he worked for crash around him. You want him to be bloody and bruised and beaten like you have been for a year.
“Good, he fucking deserves it. Dick will probably hunt him down if you tell him.” Jason informs you. “He used to be a detective and he worked a lot of cases with shitty parents. I think he went out as Robin and kicked their asses.”
You smile. “Good, people who beat kids deserve what’s coming.” You laugh softly, stretching your legs out beside Jason’s and leaning back on your hands. “Your turn.”
Jason nods, pulling the leg furthest from you up so his foot is on the floor and his knee is bent while he leans back on his hands. “Dad was killed by Two-Face, mom’s a smack addict, uncle drank himself to death.” Jason rambles off as if it were nothing and your eyes squint for just a second. You’re nonchalant because it’s easier that way. Is it easier for him to be like this, too? “Gotham, right?” Jason scoffs, looks down and away from you.
“Special kind of fucked up there.” You say, not looking away from him. “I’m really sorry.” You say, your heart aching for him, something you didn’t really expect given the banter between you. “How’d you get here then?” You ask, instead of asking for details about those he lost knowing you don’t like to talk about it and assuming he probably doesn’t either.
“Caught stealing the hubcaps off the Batmobile.” Jason chuckles, his cocky grin back on his face as he looks to you, clearly proud of himself. He expects you to be impressed with his courage to steal from Batman of all people. But that’s not what your face is telling him.
Your eyes narrow and then you look up before squeezing the bridge of your nose. “Hubcaps.” Your voice is exasperated, eyes closed before looking back at him. “Fuck.”
Jason laughs, knowing what the expression is now. “What? You robbing cars?” He shakes his head. “Nah, you gotta get the hubcaps, more likely to get money from that. Less likely to get caught, too.”
“Fuck you. You got caught, too!” You glare at him.
“Because it was the fucking Batmobile.” Jason tilts his head back with a laugh. “He didn’t wanna press charges, instead, he took me in.”
“Oh, to have been so lucky.” You snark with the roll of your eyes.
“Yeah…” Jason sucks in a breath. “Sorry.”
“Nah,” You scoff with a smile. “I wish I would have been smart enough to rob the Batmobile!”
“Everyone says it was dumb.” Jason scoffs.
Bruce said it was dumb, the cop said it was dumb, Dick, Gar, Alfred, everyone but every single one of them completely neglect the need to survive. Jason's been in and out of the system his entire life. He got lucky that he didn't end up like you in all of the time he was in the system. It was lucky. He lived on the streets, no job, no GED, no diploma, he had nothing. Stealing the hubcaps off cars was how he got money for food. The Batmobile? He knew he'd get more money for it. No one wants to talk about why he did it, just that it was "dumb".
“Well, you got to move in with Batman and even if you succeeded, you would have gotten money. That’s a win-win.” You give him a smile and a laugh because you really wish you would have done it. You get it, you’re the one who gets it.
“What I said!” Jason defends.
“So, that it? Parents and guardians suck?” You pause. “So…why're you here then? I think you're a great Robin, seems a bit weird you're here." You question because you want to know what he did. If stealing hubcaps wasn't Bruce's red flag, what was it?
Jason’s face grows something sad and you’re watching, not sure what he would be sad about. He seems so happy about being Robin. What is there to be sad about? Dick said Bruce wasn’t the best, but was it that bad? Is the guy who dresses up as Batman every night actually a horrible person? Is it all just a show?
“He’s making me take a break.” Jason looks to the ground, his face settling somewhere between annoyed and sad.
You nod. “Ah, what’d ya do?”
“Well,” Jason sighs, running a hand through his hair. “There was the joyrides in the Batmobile and then riding a motorcycle in the manor.”
“I-you…I don’t know what to unpack first. Batmobile or the motorcycle. Why? For both, I guess?” You question.
Why would he risk that? Getting thrown back to the streets or worse? You run the questions through your head but you don't need to ask him because you know. It's what he does. It's what you do. You’re asking Jason to go behind Dick's back, knowing that Dick doesn't have to let you stay. It's a risk and sometimes the risk is worth it. Maybe it's genetic, to be some sort of fuck up. Or, in this case, maybe it's just environmental.
Jason shrugs. “Seemed fun, I guess.”
“You know what I think.” You point a finger at him and Jason deadpans but gestures a hand out for you to proceed. “I think he doesn’t give you enough attention.”
“You a fucking shrink now?”
“Fuck no.” You chortle. “Just an observation. Seems like you like a lot of attention.”
"And why the fuck do you think that?"
"You're a smart-ass." You chuckle as if it should have been obvious. "The risks you take, the fact everyone has something to say about you tells me you intentionally start the shit so they do talk about you. Talking about you in any context is better than being forgotten." You explain and Jason just watches you growing annoyed. He thinks he's so hard to figure out but you have him pegged in five minutes.
"Fuck you." Jason huffs. He does not like being analyzed.
"No one wants to be forgotten." Your voice is quiet and the annoyance suddenly leaves Jason with your tone. You notice the way he looks at you, not with sympathy or pity but with a genuine understanding and you deflect. "And if you keep saying fuck you, I might take you up on it." You wiggle your brows at him and Jason's jaw opens slightly, feeling as if he's just gotten whiplash.
He can play this game. He won't let you get one over on him. This is Jason's game to play and win.
"Fuck. You." Jason taunts you, leaning forward slightly.
You think it's funny. You’re just messing with him but the way he doesn't even bat an eye at it, it energizes your blood in every way. Talking and messing with Jason makes you feel so normal. He doesn't do that little dance thing that Gar does, where he's so worried about stepping on your feelings. Jason just blurts shit out and calls your bluff. It's fun.
"Tell me how you really feel." You challenge him.
Jason wants to go there because he doesn't think you'll commit to it. Maybe you'll pull away or laugh but he'll have won because he didn't back down first. It's like this silent game you're playing and Jason can't tell who the ringmaster is. He swears up and down it's him, but you take the challenge and maybe he's a little worried you'll win.
You make him feel....not useless right now. He has felt useless since being sent here. Dick didn't want him to stick around and help but he kept Rachel and Gar around. He couldn't stop Trigon, he never even stood a chance. But, with you, you don't know any of that shit. It's just you two with no expectations of anything. It's the two of you and your trauma bonding and this little game. He wants it to be a long game though, drag it out and see who wins then.
"I don't think you like attention." Jason states, your brows furrowing and you didn't expect him to be the one to back down.
“What makes you say that?”
“You’re awake when no one else is. You choose Gar to hang out with. I'm guessing you did a lot of the crime at night and not just because it was easier. It's Gotham, day crime is also pretty fucking easy. Guessing you haven't told anyone else what happened because you don't want them to look at you.” Jason explains in the same way you did but this time, with a bit more bite in his voice.
You shake your head, a smile tugging at your lips. Maybe you’re also a bit transparent around him. “Mmm who’s the wanna-be shrink now?”
“Fuck off.” Jason chuckles. “Have you told anyone else? About what happened to you?”
You shake your head. “No, uh…” You furrow your brows, shaking your head once more. “I almost told Gar but….he makes it….too…”
“Real?”
“Yeah and vulnerable. Dick’s too serious about it and I haven’t talked much to Rachel. You always have a smartass comment though. Makes it feel more like a joke. And....we have Gotham in common, ya know?”
Jason nods with understanding. He doesn’t really like talking about any of it either. None of it really. It’s why he always says it so nonchalantly. It’s easier to brush it all off than boil in the feelings of sadness and regret. It’ll eat him alive if he thinks too much about it.
“Yeah, you make it easier, too.”
“Was that something nice you just said?”
“Shut the fuck up.” Jason groans. He nods his head up at you quickly. “How bad are the bruises?” You raise one brow at him. “I’m not a complete fucking asshole, alright? I don’t actually want you to get hurt.”
He’s thinking of caving. He gets you and you get him. Jason doesn’t have confidence about where this will go by any means but he’s confident he can trust you. If it were Jason, he’d never fucking quit if he were told he couldn’t train. He’d be training recklessly if he had to. You, at least had the brains to come and ask him for help. You’re not dumb, you’re desperate and Jason gets it. But he doesn’t want to contribute to your injuries if they’re that bad.
You think for a few seconds. They’re not great. Most of them are a deeper shades which means they’re further away from healing but you have a few older ones that have turned lighter in color. You know those aren’t the ones him and Dick are concerned about. And you could lie to him, it’s not like he’s going to pin you down and check for himself. But that doesn’t really feel right. Especially with him being nice to you and honest.
“What’s your definition of bad?” You ask, just trying to see how well you need to answer his question.
“Do they hurt?” Jason asks, not sure how to answer it.
“Well, yeah they’re bruises.”
“You know what I mean.” Jason groans.
“Yeah, they hurt. Like walking kind of hurts and bending certain ways hurts.”
“And you wanna fucking train and make it worse?”
“Do you ever rest? If you get hurt being Robin, do you rest or do you train?”
“Fine.” Jason groans, knowing he’s lost the battle. “But you know you’re not gonna run into the guy this week, right? The tower is secure so you don’t have shit to worry about.”
Jason caves. Training helps him deal with the bullshit. It makes him feel like he has a purpose. Being Robin is the one thing he does really well and it makes him feel like he belongs somewhere, something he’s never felt before. All the bullshit that happened before, it doesn’t matter when he’s Robin and when he’s training. He wants to give that to you.
“I know but I wanna be prepared. I wasn’t prepared last time.” You answer honestly. You will never let anyone do that to you again.
“You’re fucking crazy, ya know?” Jason chuckles softly.
“So are you, bud.” You get up. “Well, good talk. Lots of trauma bonding, but I’m gonna try to go tot bed.” You opt to end the conversation just in case he changes his mind but you’re a little disappointed. You do enjoy talking to him. Just like this.
Jason pauses for a second, looking up at you. You’re a human person and you have similarities in your traumas. It’s a little refreshing in a fucked up kind of way. No one else really gets it because it’s different, having a parent actively abandon you is different than dying. In a way, Jason thinks it’s worse. His mom picked drugs over him. He wasn’t good enough to love, by his own mother, and the only one who’d actually get that here is you. But, he knows that you might also benefit from actually talking about it with someone who can offer some actual support about it. It did help when he talked to Gar about it once.
“You should talk to Gar.” Jason says from the floor as you were on your way out.
“About?” You turn to look at him.
“What happened to you.” Jason gets up from the floor.
“Why?” You think it’s a bit weird to bring that up and now. You both just said it’s weird making it feel vulnerable and real.
Jason shrugs. “Might help, dealing with it.” He sucks in a breath as if it’s hard for him to even say. He hates talking about it but Gar will just listen. He’s the one person Jason has actually had a heart-to-heart to about it.
“Afraid I might…break him.” You laugh softly. “Ya know? Like he’s already seen some bad shit and he is…. unfathomably kind. I don’t wanna ruin him.”
Jason huffs but there’s a smile peaking onto his face. “He looks at the ligature marks on your wrists whenever you’re not tugging on your sleeves. Whatever he’s imagining happened to you is always going to be worse than what actually happened.” Jason says, his voice a bit flat and you can see this is a struggle for him to say and you wonder why.
“Like in horror movies. Choosing not to show the violence because what we imagine will always be scarier.”
“Yeah, I’m just saying, he’s a good listener if you just wanna be pissed about it.” Jason chuckles. “He’ll let you bitch about it.”
You smile at him and shake your head. Everyone here wants to talk so much shit about him which hey, maybe he deserves usually. But, you see through his bullshit because you do the same shit. It’s not cold-hearted, it’s a coping mechanism. A way to protect yourselves from getting hurt again. You get him, you get it and it makes you happy because he gets you, too.
“You’re not so bad, Jason Todd.” There's a genuine sweetness to your eyes as you say it and Jason doesn't believe it.
“I am the best.” He opens his arms, palms up, the arrogant smile beaming.
You roll your eyes, feeling bubbles and butterflies in your stomach. “Yeah, sure, goodnight, Jason.” You emphasis his name as you turn to leave and it sends Jason’s heart spinning.
“Goodnight, Y/n.” His voice is actually kind as he watches you leave.
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What am I to you?
Note: ok so this man is living rent-free in my mind for a while, so why not make a fic with him? Also, I notice a pattern here since most of my obsessions are blond men 🙈. I'm not decided yet if I wanna make a mini-series or not;
Pair: Erwin Smith x F!Reader;
Story: Erwin knows about the crush you have on him and one night he decided to confront you about it. This is an AU where Erwin got the injection instead of Armin.
Tags: fluff.
After the latest meeting with Kiyomi Azumabito, Erwin decided to retreat to his office so he could think about their next move. He's always been calculated, and precautious, making plans for every outcome possible. As the commander of the Survey Corps, there was always a heavy amount of responsibility hanging over his shoulders, as he had to fulfill his goal of finding the truth about the Titans. The truth, however, didn't set him free; it only made the burden he carried much heavier. His goal changed; now he had to protect the humanity inside the walls and further fulfill his duty, not only as the commander of the Survey Corps but also as the possessor of the Colossal Titan.
He viewed Armin's death with regret, as the kid was brilliant, and he would for sure make a great commander someday.
Erwin likes to write down important details in a journal because he might discover some clues or get some ideas as he writes or reads them later. There was a lantern near him that lit the table and the pages in a soft, yellow light. There were others scattered around as well, which illuminated the room in a warm light. The room was silent, and only the sound of him writing could be heard. That was until someone knocked on the door.
"Come in," he said calmly. Through the door, one of his soldiers appeared.
"Bad time?" she asked, noticing the commander was busy.
"Not at all, how can I help?" He said this, closing his journal and turning back to face the soldier.
"Well, I was thinking about the meeting with Kiyomi..."
She was lying. All she was thinking about was her commander. Every day she would think about Erwin when he wasn't around, and when he was, she tried her best to get noticed by him. She was smart and capable, with great leadership skills, but there was so much she needed to learn. Noticing her potential, Erwin spent some extra time with her.
She didn't always have a crush on him. In the beginning, she used to admire him like the rest of the scouts. She looked up to him; he was her mentor, but over the years this admiration turned into a feeling she could barely control anymore: one of love. It clouded her judgment, and she began to see him more as a man, a partner, rather than her commander and a titan shifter. Dealing with these conflicted feelings was draining her, and as a result, it weakened her performance as a soldier. She began to miss important details, and to be careless, leaving her to wonder if Erwin realized something was wrong.
However, she didn't dare to see if it was true, and instead, she acted like nothing was wrong while burying her feelings for him, hoping they'd go away.
As usual, she came into his office under the excuse of a serious discussion about the meeting with Lady Azumabito.
"What about it?" Erwin asked, not taking his eyes off her.
"I just don't think it's a good idea to follow Zeke's plan, and for many reasons. He doesn't seem like a person you can trust, not to mention he killed most of us back in Shiganshina." She said it as she shyly approached Erwin, who was listening carefully. "And I don't understand why the person who almost wiped us out a year ago suddenly wants to help Paradise Island. Something is off." She sat on an armchair that was near Erwin's desk.
"I understand your concern," he said, his eyes fixated on you. Even if there was some distance between you, you could still feel his dominant presence as if he were near you. Maybe it was something about his gaze that never seemed to move from you, or maybe it had to do with your feelings. In reality, Erwin was the same, but it was you who changed.
"I'm as worried as you are, y/n," he added, "there are many people who depend on us. However, we can't deny any of their help."
Even after all these years under his command, his response still shocked you. You opened your mouth to talk, but you closed it immediately. Erwin noticed, causing a smile to appear on his face.
"If you think about it, the whole world wants us dead. So what's left other than to trust these people who come to our aid? Of course, I don't want to follow Zeke's plan to activate a small-scale rumbling, but maybe we can convince Kiyomi to adopt a plan that doesn't involve one."
"That sounds better," you said, relieved. "She seemed very interested in our iceburst stone reserves. Maybe we can start with that?"
"Good point, but I feel that you are not here to discuss a strategy," he said as he leaned forward in his chair. His blue eyes were looking at you with curiosity and a hint of amusement.
"What do you mean?" you said, trying to keep it together.
"Well, I noticed your lack of focus lately. Also, you used to come up with solutions to the problem, and now you come up with more problems." He said it with a slight annoyance in his tone.
"It's...it's because of the situation we're in...you don't find out every day that the world is against you..." So he did notice that something was wrong with you, but did he also notice it was because of him?
"That's true, but are you sure there isn't something else bothering you?" His words were so gentle, and you could tell from his tone that he was worried about you. Still, you panicked, and despite your calculated nature, you began to talk nonsense.
"Yes commander, I'm sure." The situation was becoming awkward, and you'd usually stop by now. "I don't have a reason to be upset, I mean I have, plenty, but I should do something about it. Anyway, how are you dealing with the situation?"
"Don't change the subject," he said. "And I'm fine, thanks for asking."
A short, awkward silence followed until Erwin spoke again.
"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you have a crush on me."
Just like that, he blew up your cover, pulling you into foreign territory. You should've known that this day would come, as the commander has an eye for details.
"What?" you said in a forced shock tone, "Listen, maybe you need some rest too because you talk nonsense right now."
Erwin maintained his stoic expression, which made you more anxious because you couldn't read him at all. You didn't know if he was disappointed, angry, relieved, or if he felt the same way or not.
As you got up, you began to talk again.
"I'll go now, commander, I need some rest. There's been so much going on...." Your words were more and more incoherent as you noticed the commander approaching you. He walked slowly towards you as if he didn't want to disturb you—or, better said, scare you. You stopped talking when there were mere inches between your bodies. He was so close that you could smell his natural musk, see his expression wrinkles, and watch him frown.
"What am I to you, y/n?" he asked determinedly.
"I-you, you are my commander..."
This closure triggered your fight-or-flight instinct. He could be very intimidating when he wanted something, but you never thought he'd be like this with you, hence your lack of confidence. Still, you find him dangerously attractive. You got lost in your words, and you desperately tried to get out of this situation.
"You don't seem so sure about that." Because he was taller than you, he had to hunch a bit to come closer to your face. One inch was enough to make your legs weak, thus marking your defeat. One rebellious strand of hair over his forehead was enough to make you imagine dirty stuff, like how good he’d look on top of you or how his hair would feel in your hand. Being so close to him also made you want to kiss him. You could already feel his lips pressing on yours.
"Commander…" you said. As if Erwin read your mind, he grabbed your arms and pulled you closer to him, as he pressed his lips over yours. His action shocked you, but what shocked you most was how soft his lips were. The kiss was gentle, and he remained idle, waiting for your response. Before you could wrap your hands around his neck and kiss him back, Hange burst through the door.
"Erwin! You'd never guess... Oh, did I interrupt something?" She said, her cheeks becoming visible red from embarrassment.
"No, I was just leaving," you said as you quickly got past her. You left the room without looking back.
"Oh, Erwin..." Hange began to laugh. "Don't break her heart like you did with the rest."
"I'll do my best," Erwin said, smiling. "Got something for me?"
"Yes, it's about the Founding Titan..."
Once you arrived in your room, you began to walk back and forth in the small space as you start overthinking. You felt joy, anxiety, excitement, and shame all at once. You hoped that the commander would forget about this incident and pretend like nothing happened. At least this is what you planned to do, but you should know by now that Erwin doesn't leave things unfinished. For the rest of the night, all you could think about was how good he looked in that warm light and how soft his lips were.
#erwin smith#erwin x y/n#erwin smith fic#erwin smith x reader#aot#attack on titan#shingeki no kyojin#fluff
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Howdy there, i really like your bird drawing tutorial, but i wanna know if this would work for flightless birds like ostrichs or other extinct flightless birds, if not could you send some tips on how to draw them?
Hi! I was thinking about mentioning flightless birds in the tutorial, but I decided I didn't want to open that can of worms, since there was already so much to talk about. But in short, some things in the tutorial still apply to flightless birds, others less so.
Especially the parts about feathers don't apply as well to flightless birds, because the general anatomy of the wing has evolved to maximize flight efficiency. In flightless birds, the general bone structure and the shape of the featherless wing is still similar, but since the wings aren't used for flying, the feathers can be completely different.
Ostriches use their wing feathers for social and sexual displays instead, so their wing feathers are big, poofy and less "orderly". In other flightless birds like emus and kiwis, the wing is very tiny and the feathers on the wings are very similar to their general body feathers, so they are basically invisible.
Penguin wings have evolved for swimming, so they are more robust. In general, flightless birds have heavier bones, since they don't need to reduce their weight in order to fly.
Flightless birds also don't have much of a tail, since the tail is the most useful for balancing flying.
While the leg anatomy is the same for flightless birds, the feet have usually lost a few toes, since there is no need to grab branches. Ostriches have only two toes.
That's just some general things that came to mind! I don't know of a good tutorial going into more detail than this, but if anyone has recommendations, feel free to share them!
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would suguru take satoru’s family name, or would satoru take suguru’s family name?
naturally, satoru would argue for suguru’s, because it’s another piece of his one and only bound to him. (‘satoru geto’ has a nice ring to it. plus, he thinks it sounds better than ‘suguru gojo’.)
suguru secretly loves that; loves how natural it sounds — it’s where his heart truly lies — but would share his two cents about ‘gojo’ being their family name, anyways.
satoru geto + suguru geto; or suguru gojo + satoru gojo.
[ debate of the century. ]
#they would argue and bicker over this for hoursss#never would come to a conclusion over what to do#but i wonder ab them#and then just like wait until someone brings it up again#completely normal shower thoughts#i love how their initials would stay the same regardless#i wanna go into heavier detail than this…#jjk#satosugu#jujutsu kaisen#gojo satoru#geto suguru#stsg
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{ HYPNO! Fan Fiction}
{Steve /Tony - Stony}
{Hypno Language}
Steve is naked.
Tony can't help himself but notice that, he'is Oh-my-God so damn naked. No shirt. No pants. Even no socks, nothing at all - Not to mention the fact, that, well, there's nothing to cover his limbs either.
The thing is... The Captain is not worried.
He's still at his place, sitting on his chair, smiling, the lights from the window shining, reflecting on his shoulders, his chest, every single, smallest detail of his torso, his belly, his...
"What do you see?"
The Captain did say nothing. But still, the genius ears his voice as a warm, warm echo in his head. He almost feel the touch of his lips on the right temple.
"I see you." he answers "And you're naked."
"And do you like seeing me that naked?"
"Yes." he nodds and when he does, Tony feels Steve's mouth leaving, replaced by his fingers. The fingertips presses on both his temples, pushing gently, tracing a little, circular movement.
"Wanna see more?"
"Yes."
"Wanna kiss me?"
"Yes."
"Wanna fuck me?"
The genius nodds again and finds himself giving in, letting Steve's hands moving him up and down, back and forth, the fingertips pressing and tracing spirals on his skin.
"Yes." he murmurs.
The pressure on the temples is so warm, the bubbling movement so lulling, up and down, back and forth, that the eyelids start flickering as the eyes begin to slowly rolling up at every up and every down and left to right and back and forth.
"I'll let you see more, Tony." Steve whispers "Because you're such a goid subject. You're such a good boy."
"Good." he repeats "Good."
"Yes, Tony, yes you are. And you're so good that I want show you how beautiful you're are right now. So-" he says "I want you to open your eyes and look at the mirror in front of you."
A mirror.
Where just a couple of minutes before - Or there were hours? - they started to talk about hypnosis and mind control, right where Steve was sitting, there's a mirror.
A rectangular-shape one, leaning on the back of the chair, big enough to let Tony sees himself - And Steve just behind him.
As he dreamed, he took off his shirt, even though he kept his trousers on - And just under the belly there's a big, pulsing sign of how he's enjoying the situation.
"Look at you." Steve whispers on his ear, still pressing and moving slowly his head "Tell me what you see."
"I see myself." Tony answers, his voice coming so soft, vacant, distant "I see myself as you lull me."
"Go on. How do you see yourself?"
"Relaxed."
"Look closely. Don't you think you're even a little heavy?"
Tony struggles a few seconds in order to see something through the dizziness.
"Yes." he agrees "I am tired and heavy."
"You're in fact tired and heavy." Steve says "See how heavy your shoulders are, Tony."
"Yes. My shoulders are so heavy."
"Tell me what you see."
"I see my shoulders growing heavier. I see my shoulders growing so heavier they can't stay still, they're falling down. Down. Down."
"Look at yourself. Are you going down too?"
Stark blinks once, twice.
He sees his chest, going up, going down, at each and any breath, one breath deeper than the one before it, deeper and deeper, heavier and heavier.
He sees his neck, so heavy at the point is bubbling up and down, left to right, back and forth, while Steve's hands arr guiding it back and forth, left to right, up and down.
He sees his mouth, so relaxed, so tired, so heavy, gently opend, loose and limp, heavier and heavier.
He sees hys eyelids blinking more and more, flickering, fluttering, his eyes rolling up, and then down, his eyelids heavier and heavier, at each and any blink, heavier and heavier, deeper and deeper.
"Do you see yourself going deeper and deeper, Tony?"
"Yes. I see myself going deeper and deeper."
"Do you see yourself becoming heavier and heavier?"
"Yes. I see myself becoming heavier and heavier. "
"Do you want to sleep?"
"Yes. I want to sleep."
Steve stops lulling his head.
"Now. Staring at yourself at the mirror, Tony, and put yourself to sleep repeating this mantra over and over again:"I am going deeper and deeper."
"I am going deeper and deeper."
"I am going heavier and heavier."
"I am going heavier and heavier."
"Good, Tony. You're doing so well." Steve strokes his hair "Now, start repeating your mantra."
Tony nods, even though it's just so difficult find the strenght to do as told. He feels so heavy. Deep.
He wanna sleep so badly.
But a the same time, he wanna be compliant. Obedient. Submissive.
So he rises his head, his sleepy sleepy eyes fixed on the sleepy sleepy eyes reflected in the nirror.
"I am going deeper and deeper. I am going heavier and heavier. I am going deeper and deeper. I am going heavier and heavier."
And as he keeps on repeating, going deep, going heavy, he does not notice how Steve kneels between his legs, spreads them and then opens his trousers.
He's so deep he's almost not aware how warm Steve's hands are around his cock, as he starts to stroking it.
As he grows deeper and heavier and sleepier, Tony grows hot and aroused, at the point even though is sure about repeating the mantra, his voice has just turned in to moans.
"You're deeply hypnotized." Steve's tongue on his cock "You're deeply hypnotized"
"I am deeply hypnotized." he repeats, gasping in feeling how incredibily hot is the captain's lips and mouth and throat.
"I am deeply - - - I am deeply hypno-otized."
He's about to cum, when Steve leaves his cock and suddendly, rapidly snaps his fingers.
"Sleep, Tony."
Stark moans, falling back on his chair, the eyes just a flat, white line through the eyelashes.
Steve point a finger on his forehead, while licking his own lips.
"Not thar fast, Tony. That's just the beginning."
#brainwashing#hypnok1nk#hypnosis#hypnosub#hypnotic#hypnotized#induction#mesmerism#mesmerizing#mind conditioning#steve rogers#tony stark#slash fanfiction#fanfic#stony fic#stony
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This may sound kind of dumb, but I don't... really want hw 2 to make the books canon? As someone who had never heard of (and doesn't have an interest in buying and reading) the books until shortly after ruin. The idea that there's extremely plot relevant information that you'll be totally lost without for the game's plot locked away across several books just doesn't sit right with me, mostly cause I've seen other game series decide to not explain things at all under the strange assumption that every player definitely read the books when that definitely isn't the case. Like, I'm begging steel wool to actually explain that stuff in game, even if it's locked behind some secrets, because I shouldn't have to buy and read several 30 dollar books based off a game in order to understand said game's plot.
idk i could go into this in more detail but I also don't wanna drop an entire essay in a single ask on you (unless you want me to go into it more, but that's your call)
I just assume that we've already crossed that line because of the mimic being in ruin. I'm not sure if things like the mimic especially or GGY were planned from the beginning and released too early AFTER sb and BEFORE ruin (for the mimics case) because of the last delay of the game, or if they were just written and released when they were.
if the mimic hadn't been canon, I wouldn't even be considering GGY being in a game or it even being canon. but the mimic is at least, so theres a chance GGY will be too. especially because of how many gaps in the story it fills in and how it completes the narrative if you view everything in context of it.
the books being canon and lore hidden behind paywalls sucks, but also it's something early fnaf fans wished for (back when the silver eyes first came out, I remember people hoping it had lore because people wanted any crumbs at that point) so maybe they didnt see anything wrong with it because of that
in my eyes, to give them the benefit of the doubt, SW fnaf games take much longer to make and release than early/clickteam fnaf did. four games over the course of one year back then, because of how light they are, and games farther apart now (HW + dreabear (2019) security breach (2021) ruin + HW2 (2023))
SW era fnaf games are a lot heavier and bigger, and that means longer to release and more time waited in between them. so maybe they made the choice to put lore in books because they couldnt fit EVERYTHING they needed into a game without it taking literal years to cover everything, so they settled for books instead.
but maybe that's just me. this is just a theory anyway and theres no indication it's actually true, just speculation. but hopefully when I say what I said above and that the things in the books they're making canon are actually like, cool things (the mimic and probably ggy) it makes you feel better about the whole thing
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One For the Road
A/N: Hhhh first thing I’ve finished for a while. I keep losing passion for the things I’m writing but I ended up finishing this at like 5am this morning with the ol listen to a song on repeat non stop trick.
Summary: Finally taking a break from work, Taina finds you having a good time at the organisation's 'unofficial bar'. At the end of the night, the pair of you plan to head home but one quick trip to the bathroom is required.
Word count: 2225
Warnings: Smut
AO3 Masterlist
It wasn't too often that she ended up in The Rec Room anymore. With her position as a squad leader, a lot of her time was spent agonising over details and plans. With Nøkk, Eliza Harry and Jordan all out of the picture there was much heavier pressure on her shoulders. It made sleep harder and the days longer. Yet, with the help of Yumiko, Gustave and Sam it was never too much. Yumiko was a solid strategist who worked well with her. Gustave allowed her work to continue without question or the limelight and then Sam was a rock that ensured that she made the correct decisions.
Sam also happened to be the one that made sure that she had a work-life balance. Which is why she was locked out of her own office. Sure, she could break in if she really tried but Sam gave her that look, one that told her to listen. "Go relax. Enjoy yourself. Working yourself to death isn't going to help anyone."
His words rang in her mind as she entered The Rec Room. It was more of a bar than a proper rec room, certainly not to normal regulation. It wasn't their proper rec room, it just had the same name. It wasn't part of their base, therefore, not against regulation. It was, after all, a public place. A public place that only Rainbow operatives knew about. A secret little underground bar that had plenty of business from them all.
Her first intention had been to hit up the bar for a drink but a group of loud laughter caught her ear. In the almost completely deserted bar, three people seemed to be enjoying themselves by the pool tables.
Ana, Max, and most interestingly, you. Taina's travelled to Ana who leaned against a post. She watched as you and Max dramatically sang and danced to the music. The pair of you seemed like you didn't have a care in the world while Ana was content to enjoy the display.
"I can't get her off of my brain." In a dramatic turn to face Max, the back of your hand flew to your forehead. A pained and closed-eye expression spread across your face. Max braced his hand on the side of the pool table and leaned closer to you. He had a fake shocked expression as he poorly sang the next line.
"I just wanna go to the party she gon' go."
Your hands fell out and your arms flew into a shrug. "Can somebody take me home?"
There was a pause between the pair of you as the song picked up. A devious grin spread across your face, one that was mirrored on Max's.
"Love me, hate me, say what you want about me. But all of the boys and all of the girls are begging to if you seek Amy." The pair of you sang off-key at each other and Taina couldn't help the way her lips curled upward at the sight. Her silent footsteps had her approach and at first, only Ana noticed.
"Having fun are they?" Neither of the two women looked at each other.
"They said and I quote 'this is our song', I presume there's more to the story." Ana raised a brow and Taina pressed her lips together.
"It's not one I know."
"Are they like this often? We were playing pool." Ana glanced back to the table.
"All the time, it's one of the reasons they don't get paired up together very often in training."
"Why's that?"
"I imagine in a real scenario they would be fine but in training, they can't take it seriously enough."
"At least they know how to make the mood light." Ana smiled and Taina glanced down for a second.
"Hey, Cav!" Max's voice had you spin around and her eyes snapped up to meet his then yours. Your shoulders dropped and your smile drew into a large grin.
"Taina! You're finally out of your office." Your hand twitched slightly and she could tell that you were itching to hug her but refrained from doing so. You respected her public boundaries.
"I am. Sam made sure of that." Taina pretended to sound annoyed but didn't stop the slight smile on her face.
"Told you she would listen to him." Your hush voice spoke to Max and nudged him with your elbow. Taina raised a brow and you pretended to be innocent.
Taina didn't push the matter. "What are you two drinking?"
"Cranberry juice." You picked the glass off the high-end table next to you and Max showed her his bottle of Corona.
"How 'bout I buy you a drink Boss?" Max asked and Taina shook her head.
"Don't plan on staying too long." Her eyes met yours and the pair of you silently communicated.
"What about a game then? We have been killing Ana." Your hand emphasised your words alongside your voice. When Taina looked towards Ana she recover a shrug.
"They are surprisingly good at the game."
"It's because they spend all their time playing rather than practising." The scold didn't have any venom to it. It was a tease.
"Hey, you're his boss, not mine. I think Yumikos quite happy with my training habits."
Taina rolled her eyes at you and picked up Ana's cue that rest next to her. "Come on then, one game."
-
What started as a lighthearted game turned into something more. Sure, you and Max made a good team but Taina just happened to be good. Really good. What she really focused on though, was the way you bent over that table. Your eyes focused on the ball in front of you. Lined up perfectly, you were almost completely flush against it. With your leg hiked up on the table she got a decent view of your back. Just before you hit the ball, your eyes flicked up to meet hers. Your tongue darted out over your smiling lips.
In that second it seemed like all of eternity, a slow-motion moment that didn't stop. But you continued, with the wink of your left eye time sped up once again. Taina's breath hitched and she watched as you sunk the ball in.
A loud sound came as Max high-fived you. He bent over the table and one by one the pair of you perfected the entire game. A smug smile graced your entire face and your hand slapped into Max's once again. The pair of you pulled into each other and nodded.
"That's how it's done Goose." You laughed and he grinned back at you.
"Sure is." The pair of you basked in your glory before you turned to Ana and Taina.
"Good game ladies, maybe next time there will be a different outcome."
"Uh-huh." Ana folded her arms with doubt.
"Well, that was the one game."
"You off to hit the sack?" Max asked before he took a sip of his drink.
"It's late."
"Gotta get those eight hours of uninterrupted sleep huh?" You teased and licked your bottom lip before you continued. "I'm gonna head to the bathroom and I'll be right with you." The look in your eyes was all Taina needed to know.
"I'll come with you." Her eyes were of a predator and Max shrugged to Ana when the pair of you promptly left the pool table.
"See you later guys!" You waved over your shoulder and slipped off towards the bathroom.
The pair of you had barely stepped into the woman's bathroom before she was on you. Her soft lips pressed against your throat while her palms shoved your shoulders. The force had your back slam against the tiled bathroom wall. A moan escaped your mouth as your head tilted back. Eyes closed, the moan turned into a breathy choke before you swallowed.
Taina's hands found the side of your thighs where she pawed and squeezed at the side of them. Open-mouth kisses continued to litter your neck, she nipped and sucked on the flesh but not hard enough to leave a mark. With a solid grip on your thighs, she pulled them apart and slotted her body in between them. In the same motion, she lift you up off the ground and you automatically wrapped your legs around her waist.
"Is this what you wanted when you got Sam to do your dirty work?" Taina's voice purred out but there was also a slightly aggressive undertone to it.
"I- ngh -genuinely wanted you to take a break. We all did."
"All?" She pressed her clothed cunt against yours. No friction but the pressure started to get to you, joint with the manhandling groping she did on your thighs.
"Me and everyone in Ghosteyes. You come to bed so late and push yourself so hard."
"I always push myself hard." Her lips detached from your throat and made itself up to your ear.
"Yeah, but this is unhealthy hard. You’re just as bad as As-" You cut yourself off and the pair of you stiffened at the thought. "I might not be in your squad or a squad leader but I'm here for you Taina. I miss you." Your head lowered and your pleading eyes met hers. "We're a team." She paused and looked into your eyes.
Taina slowly leaned in, far softer and slower than all her earlier movements. Those soft lips finally graced your own and she poured all her emotions into it. It ramped up and your hand tangled in her hair. That kiss always a promise. Everything that had been building up over all the weeks finally came to a burst.
Your hand tugged at her hair and that was it. She practically growled against your lips and pulled you away from the wall. The cool touch of the sink basin made contact with the bottom of your thighs and Taina pulled away from your body. Your mouth gaped open slightly when she sunk down on her knees. Her hands grabbed the side of your shorts and pulled them down with her, you lift your hips slightly to help. Soon she had dropped your shorts on the floor, her eyes on yours for a moment before her focus was on your cunt before her.
Taina didn't bother to remove your underwear and only pulled them to the side. The cool hair against your cunt had you shiver and you gasped when her tongue ran the entire base against you. From the bottom of your lips to the top of your clit she firmly dragged her tongue against it.
Your hand flew to your mouth to prevent yourself from crying out her name. She had that smug look on her face but didn't repeat the motion. With two fingers Taina pushed your lips open. This time her tongue dipped into your cunt and lapped at your juices. Her mouth pressed against your cunt firmly and she sucked on you before she pulled back.
Caveira lets go of you for a moment and pushed her hair back. She stretched her neck slightly and found her grip on your thighs once again. You watched when she rolled her shoulders and then forced back in.
The tip of her tongue traced the outside of your lips. She dragged it against your entire cunt. The tip of her tongue made little kitten licks against your clit which had you bury both hands back into her head.
You bucked slightly against her mouth and swore out as she alternated between long swipes and more focused smaller ones. Each one firm against your cunt. Her nose pressed against your skin and you leaned against the mirror while she ate you would with everything she had.
One hand let go of your thigh and she pressed two fingers against your now swollen cunt. Already abused from her mouth, she started to rub it in circles. "Taina." Your moan of her name rewarded you with a light bite against the inside of your thigh. She always did love the way you dragged out the end of her name.
"Close aren't you?" Her tongue danced over her teeth with a smile. "Come on, you don't need my permission. Cum for me."
Her eyes stayed on yours as she expertly continued to run your clit. Your face shivered and you bit down on your lips to prevent yourself from crying out. A muffled whimper slipped through as pleasure tipped over the scales and you moved your hips against her hands. Your thighs squeezed shut and she had to catch them as you came.
"There's a good girl." She let go of your cunt and helped put your underwear back into place. A wet patch soaked through and she stuck her coated fingers into her mouth. With a humm, she sucked on your taste. "I'm sorry for making you miss me." Taina rose to her feet and nestled her way against you. The pal of her hand slapped against the mirror and she leaned in.
A slow wet kiss full of tongue shared with you, her tongue licked against your own and you could taste yourself on her. "I'll make it up to you." She promised and you let out a little whine.
"I want you to look after yourself." You murmured against her lips, only barely disconnected.
"Two birds one stone."
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✶ stay with me ; yang jungwon.
synopsis. your body has been consumed by vecna, and the worst possible situation becomes reality.
info. angst. non idol!yang jungwon x gn!reader [ they / them prns ]. 783 words.
warnings. death, blindness, paralysis, crying, yelling, slight mention of blood (not detailed), grammatical and structural errors, lowercase and smaller text intended, proof-readish, based off stranger thing's szn four finale!
the red streaks find their final resting spot on your cheeks, the odd substance sticking and not going away. your body's stiff, and cold. everything's so cold.
you try to look your lover in the eye, the sound of his voice barely reaching out to you. he sounds frantic, incoherent screams floating around the room as he tries to help you up.
"c-call an ambulance! riki, hurry, call an ambulance!" his screeches reach the younger boy's ears, his eyes ripping away from the sight in front of him as he runs to call for help.
jungwon's attention is back on you, his grasp tight and protective. "please, i'm here. don't leave, i'm here!" he sputters out, trying to remain calm as he places his palm upon your cheek and rubbing softly.
"i-i can't feel... or see anything," you trail off, the reality of the situation falling into place like building blocks in your mind. your body remains stiff, head resting in his arms as you continue looking around only for your eyes to be met with nothingness.
"i know, i know, it's okay," jungwon's quick to reassure you, "we're gonna get you some help, okay? just hold on!" he begs you, tears slipping onto your alarmingly pale skin. "jungwon, i'm scare- i'm so scared!" you exclaim, eyes darting around in a panicked daze.
he feels helpless and useless, tears streaming down like a river as he brings your body closer to his chest. he looks away from you for a second, "i know, i know, i know, i know." he softly repeats, thinking of what to do next.
panic sets in as you continue to sit in complete darkness, "i don't wanna die, i'm not ready!" you speak quickly, your weak hands flailing around in search of jungwon. he reaches for your hand in record speed, giving the back of your hand a fleeting kiss before placing it close to his heart, "you're not gonna die, just hang on —"
"i don't wanna go, i'm not ready to go!" you wail out, shaking your head vigorously as you try to shoo off the dreadful feeling of your body giving up.
"y-you're not gonna die, just hang on!" he pushes, already knowing that he's lying to both you and himself. silence consumes you slowly, no words leave your trembling lips as you begin breathing harder.
the subtle change in your body language doesn't go unnoticed by jungwon, panic consumes him as he tries to keep you conscious. "y/n... y/n? y/n no! no, stay with me." he rambles on, the words jumble up in your mind, as your lungs hang on it's last thread of air.
all you can make out is him begging you to stay with him but you soon find it impossible to keep up as his words start to fall on deaf ears. your sobs are getting quiety, the air getting stuck in your throat as you try to breathe. it's as if wet concrete fills your lungs, the pain almost unbearable as it chips away pieces of you.
your boyfriend's face is covered in tears, sweat, and all the above as he looks around the room helplessly, "niki, help!" he practically growls out, his voice grainy and practically dripping with fear.
he looks down at you, noticing how your body is more heavier than it was before. your gasps for air, your tears, your shaking, everything just — stopped.
your face falls into one of calmness, the once lively features he'd come to love becoming dull as the darkness swallows you whole and leaves you as nothing but an empty shell.
your face falls into one of calmness, the once lively features he'd come to love becoming dull as the darkness swallows you whole and leaves you as nothing but an empty shell.
"y/n?" he calls out, watching in disbelief as his lover falls completely limp in his arms. he calls out your name in a flurry, trying to differentiate between fantasy and reality.
'i must be dreaming', he thinks to himself but as he continues to watch your unconscious form not responding, he begins to sob uncontrollably. "stay with me, please. no, no no no, y/n!" he begs uncontrollably, hunching over you.
"help!" he screams, the sound coming straight from his throat. a raw, and gravely scream clawing through his vocal cords. he holds you tighter in his arms, letting his tears wreak havoc, the droplets dripping upon your lifeless face.
jungwon looks around the room again, hoping to find anything to help in this situation, he tries bargaining with anyone and anything before ultimately giving up.
"please stay with me, y/n. i love you."
★ enhypen taglist. @ficscafe ... @jikjihoon ... @enhacolor ... @alohajun ... @yedamology
[ 🎧 ] jaydi's notes. sorry if this is too sad, i came across this stranger things scene on my tiktok fyp and wanted to write abt it... LOL sorry if it's kinda inaccurate n if it is, i'll fix it soon bc i'm literally rewatching the show as we speak lolz
© ACAIASAHI 2022 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. COPYING, TRANSLATING, AND REPOSTING IS PROHIBITED.
#ficscafe#enhypen imagines#enhypen drabbles#enhypen blurbs#enhypen headcanons#enhypen angst#enhypen x reader#yang jungwon imagines#yang jungwon drabbles#yang jungwon blurbs#yang jungwon headcannons#yang jungwon angst#yang jungwon x reader#jungwon imagines#jungwon drabbles#jungwon blurbs#jungwon headcanons#jungwon angst#jungwon x reader#━ 🪐 jikjihoon!
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15 Lines Tag Meme
Tagged by @morganaseren
Tagging: @istibaethoriel @thedarkstrategist @astreamofstars @bardic-inspo (also retagging @morganaseren and @writer86 bc I did this slightly differently than y'all did and maybe you wanna try it this way too :D )
(Want me to tag you in work-sharing memes like this in the future? Toss a like on this post over here! Would love a bigger list of folks to tag. :) )
Rules: Share 15 or fewer lines of dialogue from an OC, ideally lines that capture the character/personality/vibe of the OC. Bonus points for just using the dialogue without other details about the scene, but you’re free to include those as well!
I just realized that I don't actually have a WIP currently running that involves an OC, which is a bit wild. (Two WIP Jaheira longfics and a bunch of one-shot ideas I haven't started yet. XD ) So I'm going to do this as not a WIP fic quote but instead fifteen different quotes from Hector across several different existing fics that are representative of his personality. (I'm not sure which the originator of the meme intended and I know prev (Lee) did it the other way XD but I'm gonna reinterpret the instructions bc this is where my brain is taking it instead.)
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“Where your Lady looks for emptiness, mine looks for…self-reliance,” he finally says slowly. “Which is itself…not conducive to…” He trails off. “I have not ever felt this way before.” (Happy For You)
Hector hesitates. “I think perhaps I ought to ask you to forgive me,” he says quietly. “There were– and still are– many steps along this path that I have not handled as I should have. I was…very confused for quite some time, and very afraid, and perhaps my actions betrayed too much.” (Happy For You)
“It was one of the mantras of grounding I was taught from when I was a very young boy,” he says. “To…calm myself when I was upset or angry, to stop crying or raging, take control of the feelings and quiet them.” (The Center Cannot Hold)
“I love it,” he murmurs. “And I will keep it close to me going forward, you can be sure of that.” He turns the small talisman in his fingertips, watching it catch the light. “I've seen many of these,” he adds reverently. “But never one of such fine make. And old, too. Some monk carried this through hell before it made its way to you. I suppose I will add to that tradition...” (The Mystery of the Night)
“I don’t think I can go back,” he finally says quietly. “Not after all of this. I’ve… changed too much.” (Riverbed)
“I don’t know how to do what they want me to do,” he says softly. “How to… be what they think I am.” (Riverbed)
“It is only through meditation and strength of will that we master our emotions,” he says. “So I was taught.” (What Good, This Heart of Stone?)
“Discipline,” he mutters. “To control one's body is to control one's mind.” (What Good, This Heart of Stone?)
“SHUT UP!” The roar bursts from him and cracks apart into a sob. Tears flood his eyes, blurring his vision. “Gods… please… just leave me alone. I can’t… I can’t… she is dying and she is in so much pain, and I can’t help her, I can’t stop it. If you were anything less than a monster, you would grieve with me, you would want to help her… you would give a single, solitary damn… but you don’t. All you care about is your fucking worm, and it’s all falling apart… it’s all gone… it’s all gone…”
The tears are coming heavier now, choking him, blinding him. “What the hell am I going to do?” he whispers. “I won’t… I won’t do it, I won’t do what you want… I won’t become an… an abomination just to save my heart… I won’t take her choice from her… but how will I bear it…? ” ("Because of What You Are" - drabble)
He swallows the lump that forms in his throat at hearing these words. “There is so much… so much more to the world than I ever imagined…” (vision of selune - drabble)
He flinches, not meeting her eyes. “I was thinking about how I’m scared because I could die. And then I thought about how perhaps there is a certain level on which that would be the simplest outcome.” (night before the brain - drabble)
“You’re perfect,” he repeats softly, and to his shame he hears his voice tremble. “I just…have no idea what I’m doing, and you surprised me.” (Prayers and Hellfire)
“You make me smile,” he goes on when the kiss finally breaks. The words come slowly, carefully - he considers himself no orator, but there is an ocean of feeling inside him waiting to be spoken of. “So many terrible things we see out here, and yet you make me laugh. You see the good in everything, even when it looks so dark to me. You've suffered so much and you're still kind, still want the best for everyone.” He pauses, then adds with fervent sincerity, “And you are so… so beautiful…” (Prayers and Hellfire)
#morganaseren#tag meme#hector carlisle#idk if this is a way i was supposed to do this but it was definitely fun to do :P#this is making me think maybe i should go back through hector's liveblog and port some of the longer posts over to AO3 at some point
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