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hairmetal666 · 2 days

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Steve wins the bat plush at a fair when he's seven. He doesn't care about bats, but it's the prize for making all five baskets in the basketball game, so he gets the little bat. Its eyes are a little crooked and one wing is slightly smaller than the other, but it being lopsided sort of makes it cuter.

He and his dad, they're supposed to be going on rides now, but his dad's pager keeps going off. He puts Steve next to a funnel cake stand, tells him not to move, and goes in search of a pay phone. Fifteen minutes pass, and Steve is bored under the flashing lights and tinkling music. He wants to play not sit and wait.

Eventually, he drifts back towards the midway, watches the people rushing by, searches for a sign of his dad's return. His attention is caught by another boy at the basketball booth. He has to be about Steve's age, with a mop of dark curls on top of his head and a jean jacket that's slightly too big, sleeves flopping over his hands as he lines up his shots.

This boy, he's terrible at basketball. Every shot is too high or too short or goes wide, but he's trying. Even from this distance, Steve can see how hard he's trying. He uses up his five balls, fishes into his jacket pocket for more money, and gets five more.

He misses every shot. This time, when he goes back for more money, he comes up empty. Steve thinks he sees his lip shaking.

A man, one in a leather jacket and boots that Steve thinks look mean, comes up to the boy, drops a heavy hand on his shoulder. He's too far away to hear the conversation, assumes the boy asks to play again and the man's response is a shaken head and a tight smile. They walk away from the games, right towards Steve, who slinks back to the side of the midway, not wanting to be caught staring.

"What was it you wanted? That stupid bat? Just another piece of trash you wanna bring in my house." Steve hears as they pass.

The boy nods, but keeps his eyes down and to the side.

He feels bad then. Felt bad before, but now he looks at his own bat, at its funny eyes and poorly attached wings, and wishes he could hand it over to the boy who really wants it. Steve almost does, then, makes to go after them, but his dad appears, dropping a hand to Steve's shoulder and saying, "ready to hit those rides?" And he knows the opportunity is gone, knows his dad will say it's too soft, not what men do.

Steve manages to lose himself for a while in the swirling lights and funhouse music and carnival rides, forget about the little bat in his back pocket and the boy who wanted one so desperately. But then his dad's pager goes off some more, he goes back to the pay phone, and Steve ducks into the low brick building that houses the bathrooms.

His eyes immediately land on the same boy from the basketball game. His eyes are red, face damp, obviously from tears, and Steve just--

"Here." He shoves the bat into the boy's chest.

For a second, the brownest eyes Steve's ever seen widen at him, before narrowing in a harsh glare, the boy's teeth barred.

"Why?" He snarls.

Steve thinks he may regret every choice that led him to this but he says, he says, "Because I want you to have it."

The boy blinks a few times, hand reaching out to gently pinch the bat's smallest wing. "You sure?"

Steve nods and the bat is slowly withdrawn from his grasp.

"No takesies-backsies?"

"It's yours."

The boy looks at the bat in awe, and Steve says, "see? It already looks happier with you."

The boy's beaming smile is cut-off by a voice calling from the door, "you in there,? I ain't got time to be waiting for your boohooing."

"Coming!" The boy carefully tucks the bat into an inner pocket of his jacket. "Thank you," he whispers, eyes big and glistening and happy, before he disappears out the door.

---

13 years later, give or take a few months, and Steve stands in the cracked shell of a bisected trailer, rummaging through what remains of a life well-lived, searching for anything whole. He's already found a few undamaged mugs and clean hats, but this room--it took a lot of damage. The brunt of it, really. Some sick sort of joke, after everything.

It's mostly rubble in here, scraps of fabric; slivers of notebook paper, magazine, poster; crumbled shards of vinyl and cassette plastic. A few times he comes across the disembodied limb of one of those dnd figures, and something weird happens to his throat.

In the far corner there's half of a dresser collapsed into itself, and he shuffles through the debris to see what he can find. There's something, soft and black, just the edge of it, peaking out from under half of a drawer face. He pulls it out, careful as can be and it's--it's a plush bat. It's a little dirty, but unharmed, though its eyes are a little wonky, and one wing is smaller than the other.

He holds it and he stares and he has to brace himself against the wall. It can't be--it's not the same one--but he remembers those big brown eyes and the curls and--

"Harrington," a warm, rich voice calls from what's left of the hallway. "You get lost in there?"

Eddie shuffles in, slow, careful with his crutches. And it--it took so long, months and months of convalesce and physical therapy, still physical therapy, but he's here. He's alive. He's perfect. And the something blooming between them, it's not spoken yet, but it's there, growing, and now, now--

"Oh my god, you found Lilith! I thought she was toast."

"Lilith?" He's still cradling the little lopsided bat in his hands, but moves closer to hand it over to Eddie.

"Yes, Lilith." Eddie takes the bat, presses it to his chest. "The first boy I ever loved gave her to me."

His heart turns over in his chest and when he swallows his throat clicks. Eddie doesn't notice, he's smiling softly at the bat, at Lilith, but then, "why are you looking at me like that?"

"First boy you ever loved?" He says. He thinks he sounds normal.

Somehow, Eddie's smile grows even softer. "Yeah. Roan County Fair, years ago. Tried to win her, but--" he clicks his tongue--"never had great hand-eye coordination. And then this kid just gave her to me out of nowhere. I used to think I was going to marry him."

"And now?"

Eddie laughs. "I grew up, Steve."

And for a second, he doesn't know what to say, but then, "I was right then, huh? That she'd be happier with you."

He stares at Steve, those same big brown eyes, wide and glistening. "Steve that was--Steve?" Eddie presses a hand over his mouth, overcome, before launching himself into Steve's arms. The crutches clatter to the floor, but Steve has him, will always have him, no matter what.

"I can't believe you kept her," Steve whispers.

"God, I carry her everywhere. She's Corroded Coffin's mascot, and you--Steve, I can't believe that was you."

"Surprise," he bumps Eddie's forehead with his.

They hold each other in the center of the destruction, but none of that matters right now, not when it feels like every moment since they very first met as children was leading them to this.

From the other half of the trailer, they hear footsteps, chattering, Wayne and Robin and Dustin, but Steve wants this to last a little longer.

"So, marriage...that still off the table?"

Eddie laughs softly, nuzzles his face against Steve's neck. "Are you kidding, sweetheart? No way I'm letting you go."

#what if eddie uses the bat as a pocket square at their wedding what then #steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #ficlet #fluff #friends to lovers #childhood first meeting #post-canon #bat plush #carnival #carnival games #steve gives eddie a plush #eddie falls in love immediately #childhood crush #all the dads suck

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kajibunny · 1 day

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Helloooo, it’s really cool to see a new writing blog here!! I always get excited about scenarios/hc, especially when I have hyperfocus. Can I request Furin (Suo, Ume, Sakura, Kaji) + Togame reacting to the reader (gn or fem) looking at them intensely and they ask what the reader is looking at and the reader says "I'm admiring my future husband" (I'll leave it up to you whether this will be in front of others or when they are alone). The reader says it more as a joke (or not?) to see their reaction (although it doesn't sound like a joke)... Just established relationship, they already have a good level of intimacy. I hope this isn't confusing... Stay hydrated and stay well 💚

•⊹💌₊˚✩dear future husband ₊˚⊹♡ w/ the wind breaker boys

✿ featuring: haruka sakura, hayato suo, ren kaji, hajime umemiya, togame jo ✿ fluff, f!reader (mentions of being called their 'wife') ✿ a/n: hi cutie~ @kuppuru thank you for this wonderful request and for the warm welcome ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ had so much fun making this, made myself laugh a couple times while writing these silly wb boys aaaa i wanna bite them!! hope you like it! ✿ wc: 1.4k

— you place your hand under your chin, posing all cute and dreamy-eyed, admiring your sweet, handsome boyfriend. when he catches you staring, he asks you why, and you tell him “oh, i’m just admiring my future husband.”

ʚɞ sakura -

“h-husband?! y-you want t-to get married to me!?” his face heats up instantaneously, and you could have sworn you saw a little steam coming out of the top of his head.

“whenever you react all cute like that, i kinda do!" you exclaim, happily smiling at his crazy and very red reaction.

his imagination goes wild, and a bunch of different scenarios of what sakura pictured married life with you was like began entering his brain without his consent.

“sakura…?” he imagines you in a wedding dress holding a huge bouquet, walking down the aisle towards him, all prim and proper.

“sakura?” he imagines you two kissing as newlyweds in front of all bofurin members (umemiya is of course bawling his eyes out and yes, even his sworn “frenemy” sugishita was there as one of his groomsmen) on your wedding day.

“sakura.” he imagines coming home to you after a long day, you welcoming him back with home cooked omurice, wearing a cute little apron, and warmly embracing him as you ask how his day went.

“sakura!” he imagines going on a honeymoon with you, you two on the bed, your cute voice calling out his name, your fleeting touch caressing him all over -

all over. it was all over, sakura has blacked out. you poke his cheek multiple times, and still nothing.

“guys, sakura has crashed. error 404 unresponsive page.” you called out to suo and nirei, who were observing the whole thing, how sakura gets redder and redder every time you called out his name, and the both of them have probably figured out more or less why he was reacting that way.

“maybe that’s his way of saying, “till death do us part.” suo remarks, and you couldn’t stop giggling.

ʚɞ suo -

he tilts his head and chuckles. a little “oh?” escaping from his mouth. he was certainly curious on what made you decide that you wanted him as your “future husband” or you so claim. it was usually him that pulled some smooth talk like this, so he was surprised that you suddenly became so – bold.

you were so cute if you thought this would fluster him.

it made him determined to retaliate and play along with your moves, as he found you ever so amusing as always. “my, my, how mature of you. already ready to take the next step?” suo teases. “i’ll be waiting, then.” he smiles. it was your turn to be flustered. you were at a loss for words, as you expected him to be a little playful, but not this much.

“cat got your tongue?” he leans in closer, and his lips capture yours in a chaste kiss. he repeats this at least three times. you tried to lean in for a more passionate one, but suo raises a finger and touches your lips. “no fair, hayato. what are these baby kisses you’re giving me?” you pout. suo looks at you affectionately. “let’s save the mature kisses for when i become your future husband, hm?”

these kind of one-liners were his specialty. his forte. and you were in his territory, so of course suo, the competitive little devil that he is, wastes no time to put you in your place.

ʚɞ kaji -

he looks at you for a moment, as if in deep thought. kaji finally stands and says: “im leaving.”

you worry that you might have tested his patience for some reason, as you have been trying out some pick up lines on him nonstop since this morning. he was used to your antics, so he either ignored you or waved you off but this was the only time he actually responded.

kaji looks back at you, as if waiting for you to stand up and follow him. “are you coming with me or not?” he extends his hand in invitation, motioning for you to take it.

“where?” you were so confused. kaji clicks his tongue, reaching out and grabbing your hand.

“to go buy you a ring.” he says, as if it were the most obvious thing.

you hold your hand up in protest. “wait, what?! i said future, ren, future! and i was joking!” he pretends to have heard nothing, putting on his headphones to tune you out and does not at all pay attention to your explanation. you couldn’t tell if he was being serious or not, but ren kaji was always full of surprises, using metaphors to get his point across, so you just waited to see what he would do.

he drags you off to the convenience store, told you to wait outside, comes back out with a small paper bag. reaching into it, he opens his hand and unveils a wrapped candy.

a ring pop.

he puts the ring pop on you, and you admire how the oversized candy diamond looks on your ring finger, almost sparkling in the sunlight. “i’ll get you a real ring in the future, but for now, this will do.”

you jump up and hug him. he buries his head in your shoulder, trying to hide his small smile.

you couldn’t stop gushing at how lucky you were and how ren kaji is as sweet as the ring pop he “proposed” to you with.

ʚɞ umemiya -

you don’t think you’ve ever seen umemiya smile this big at the mention of the word “husband”. his blue eyes all sparkling and lit up.

the thought of you wanting to marry him in the future or even mentioning it made him so excited, he considers the townspeople and members of bofurin as his family, but of course, you were different. you two already do lots of domestic things together, like helping him tend to his garden, cooking together (you even knew the recipe for his special umemiya soup), tucking him into bed whenever he falls asleep with his glasses on and a book on his face, and of course very intimate things that are only shared between the two of you. you’ve seen many sides of umemiya, but this one is definitely a first.

“oh, baby, the thought of that would make me so happy! i have so many siblings, and now i will have a wife too! now all that’s left is children! i wouldn’t want them to get lonely, so how’s ten?” he picks you up and spins you around, then hugs you tightly.

“you’re not even my husband yet, and now you want to be a father?!” you giggle, peppering his adorable face with kisses.

ʚɞ togame -

he does not utter a word, but togame stares back at you with the same intensity, his bright green eyes making it difficult to look away. it’s as if he has captured you with his soft gaze.

he mimics your position, his chin also resting on his palm. the two of you now looked like you were having a staring contest, but much closer and much more intimate.

you blink. “hello? why are you looking at me like that, jou?” you ask him, a perplexed look on your face, waving your hand in front of his face.

“don’t mind me, i’m just admiring my future wife.” he remarks. “and how beautiful she is going to look on our wedding day.” he smiles, almost slyly. he was being so charming lately, always praising you and telling you how much he’s so grateful to be yours.

you were almost tempted to be the one to get down on one knee and propose to jo togame and ask him to be your husband right there and then.

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sunshineandspencer · 2 days

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Friendly face (Part 2)

A/N: I may have misjudged the amount of people that would love receptionist x hotch, and I never planned on a part 2 but I will always succumb to peer pressure.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Receptionist!Reader.

Summary: Now that his favourite receptionist works on his floor (with absolutely no intervention from himself), Aaron finds himself almost as smitten as his son.

Word Count: 609

Warnings: fluff in a way that my heart hurts

part 1 here!!

While working in the main reception had been interesting over the years, it was nothing compared to working on the BAU floor.

Firstly, the team had taken to her so well, and everyone absolutely adored her. Penelope especially, considering she now had someone that constantly stayed back just like her. Spencer, too, is an absolute sweetheart that she would probably die for.

Whenever they came back from cases, she always had a new batch of whatever she’d been baking just for them.

However, the team found out about her ‘first come gets two’ stipulation that she had, and didn’t like that it constantly went to Hotch. Plus he’d go on to get a third that supposedly went to Jack, but Morgan was convinced that he just eats it on the way home and his son doesn’t see a crumb.

Being accused of favouritism, especially with the Unit Chief, wasn’t something she expected, but she embraced it readily. Played into it, actually.

Absolutely adoring the way he would pretend that he hadn't ever taken two - “let alone three Morgan, get a grip” - but then made a big thing of packing two small paper-wrapped treats into his bag in full view of the team.

Accompanied by her soft giggles from the receptionist desk that she desperately tried to hide as they all walked out.

Although, her absolute favourite times at the BAU were when JJ and (especially) Hotch’s kids visited. They now swarmed her desk, asking so damn cutely for candy and treats that she’d happily sneak to them.

While Henry was adorable, Jack was absolutely her favourite.

Today, as she walked into the bullpen to sort out some files, she was met by the joyful giggles of the younger Hotchner boy running at her. Until she had a mess of blonde hair buried into her stomach that nearly ran her over.

“Oh~! How is my favourite Hotchner!”

“Good.”

The voice that responded wasn’t exactly the one she had expected.

It didn’t come from the muffled face buried into her pastel pink cardigan, it wasn’t high pitched and excited - moments away from begging for another candy - and it certainly didn’t belong to the younger Hotchner currently lolling his head back to look up at her.

Instead, as she looked up, she was met with the amused glance of Aaron Hotchner. A man who appeared far too smug for his own good.

Deciding to blatantly ignore the other agents as he walked over to them, ruffling his son's hair and talking softly. Easing the files from her hand.

“Don’t knock her over Jack, or she won’t give us biscuits anymore.”

The boy pouted and she knew she could never deny him anything, looking up to smack Aaron’s arm softly. Giving him a playfully scolding look.

“I would never deny my favourite Hotchner anything.”

“I should think not.”

Neither of them delved into whether or not she meant Jack or Aaron. Knowing it wasn’t worth getting into right now - he’d interrogate her over their dinner on the weekend.

With a gentle brush to the small of her back, Aaron slipped past her towards his office, and she looked back down to Jack. Smushing his little cheeks and leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead, leaving a pink smudge behind that left him giggling all over again.

Whispering down at him that she would never withhold treats from him, and sneaking him off to grab some more while his dad wasn’t looking.

Not realising that he was looking from his office, that gentle smile on his face to see his son so comfortable with someone else.

To be so comfortable with her.

Want more?! Good!

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner oneshot #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotchner fluff #fluff #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds oneshot #criminal minds fanfic

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alexiroflife · 1 day

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"drunk wishes"

fluff, clingy gojo, friends in love

high school!gojo satoru x reader

Synopsis: years ago, satoru's habit of drinking on school nights constantly led him to ask for you, desperate for your company. of course, you couldn't blame his constant need for you on anything but the alcohol... right?

to sum it up: seventeen year old satoru was a clingy drunk & suguru and shoko always left him for you to take care of

WC: 5,665

Warning(s): alcohol use

The second your phone rang, screen lighting up to reveal the group picture of you, Satoru, Suguru, and Shoko squeezed into frame, you knew that the book you were currently halfway through would have to wait.

With a sigh, you tossed the book to the side and picked up the group call, dreading whatever was about to greet you next.

Shoko’s contact bubble was blank, for she was likely asleep at this hour. Satoru was the first to stick his head into the camera, followed by a pending bubble from Geto that eventually revealed his exasperated expression.

“(Y/n)!” Satoru slurred, grinning cheerfully into the phone. His snowy hair and bright eyes peering over round glasses were the only thing in frame as he stared intently down at his screen. The scene behind him was dark. It looked like he was standing outside somewhere, and it took you a few seconds to notice that Geto’s background resembled the very same place. “Where’re youuuuu?”

You pursed your lips in amusement, entirely too familiar with this situation. “Hi, Toru. How are you feeling?”

“Amazing, now that I get’to see y’er pretty face,” he grinned, his persistent flirting doing very little to surprise you. “D’you know that new bar down the street does’t ID check?!”

“No, I didn’t know that. You had some fun there, huh?”

“S’much fun,” he sighed, words blurring into each other. “But then I got bored, s’we went to th’ store ‘nd got snacks. Isn’t that right, Sugu-boo?”

His phone shook with the wobbling of his feet, revealing his black haired best friend standing close by as he turned to look over his shoulder at him.

You held back your laugh, glancing at the time to see that it was nearly two in the morning. Not only that, but the three of you in addition to Shoko had class in about six hours. Why the hell those two were out this late, you had no idea, but you couldn’t have said that you were surprised. After all, they did this at least three times a week, per Satoru’s influence, of course.

Suguru shook his head with a tired exhale, holding the camera down. “He’s driving me insane,” he grumbled, brows angled with irritation.

You were quick to move from your bed and shuffle across your dorm to grab a sweatshirt. You already knew where this call was leading. “What the hell are you guys even doing?” you asked. “You know what time it is, right?”

“Yeah, we do,” Suguru hissed, turning to eye a babbling Satoru. You could see the black haired boy’s eye twitch. “But someone dragged me out of bed because he didn’t want to be out alone.”

“Figures,” you laugh. “Where are you now?”

“The convenience store around the corner,” he answered. “We’re literally five minutes away, but Satoru said he wasn’t going to walk any further unless you were here.”

The said boy raised his phone up over his head, the camera peering down at the two tall men from a high angle. Satoru’s eyes went wide and mouth gaped in childlike awe, as if he were showing you some whimsical discovery through the lens of his camera. He dangled a small bag in his free hand, showing off his haul.

“Look, (Y/n)! C’me see what we got you ‘nd Shokoooo! Suguru, sh-show her y’re stuff,” he urged, a lazy smirk dancing across his face. He nudged Suguru in his chest, the contents of the strongest student’s bag knocking against his best friend repeatedly. A vein bulged in Suguru’s forehead. His bedtime was supposed to be two hours ago, and he was steadily growing more agitated.

“I’m gonna kill him, (Y/n). Please come take him off my hands.”

“What about me, huh? I could’ve been asleep, you know. Or studying, like how you two are supposed to.”

“Oh, shut up. I know you weren’t doing anything important.”

You glared at him through your screen. “This is how you treat me, huh? The designated walker for when you get tired.”

“You know how it goes,” Suguru smirked lightly. “Satoru’s needy.”

“(Y/n),” he groaned. “Sugu doesn't love me anymore, s’you have to come take care of me the way- y’know how-to- how you always do,” the blue eyed seventeen year old droned on dramatically. “Pleeeaaaaaase, I miss youuu-”

His singing was disrupted with the tumble of his phone from his hand to the ground, the device hitting the pavement with a smack. His screen went black after landing face first and you watched Geto look down at Satoru boredly, for he had likely been expecting just that to happen.

Satoru gasped loudly, bending over to retrieve his phone clumsily. Suguru panned his camera to show the sight to you, the white haired boy’s long legs spread stiffly as he leaned from his torso to pick up his phone. “(Y/n)! NOO! M’so sorry!” he cried out.

There was shuffling on his end and a dizzy spin of the camera before Satoru’s face came back into view in his small FaceTime square. “I didn’t mean’ta drop you, pretty, don’t be mad,” he whined.

You shook your head, swiping your dorm key from your desk and heading to your door. “I’m on my way, Suguru,” you said, ignoring Satoru’s drunk babbling.

“Please hurry, I can't take much more of this.”

You were quick to rush out of your dorm when you ended the call, cutting off whatever sweet talk your intoxicated friend was about to pull out next and the agitated ‘Shut the fuck up!’ that boomed from Suguru.

You knew this routine like the back of your hand. Either Satoru, Shoko, or Suguru would call you or the group chat, depending on who was out on a given night, to ask you to come over and babysit drunk Satoru, who had always found himself pleading for you the moment liquor settled into his system.

Though Satoru was the strongest sorcerer and overall person you had ever met, his tolerance for alcohol was painfully low, which you all supposed was why he liked to drink so much. Satoru was so used to being the best at everything, to not having to struggle or experience every day pressures and trials of weakness that the rest of you had to endure.

Nothing in his life posed a challenge for him, so when he stole a moment to find something that lowered his inhibitions and eased him into a state of malfunction and playful instability, it was like taking a break, a breath of fresh air after having been submerged underwater. He liked the way alcohol buzzed through his brain, melted through his bloodstream, and dumbed him down to a simple, wasted mess.

It reminded him that he was still flesh and bone in a world that raised him up as a god.

So he went out and drank quite a bit, and you, naturally, were his caretaker during those frequent times.

You never thought Satoru meant anything by his clinginess toward you. After all, he was Satoru Gojo. He was fawned over by all women, and as one of his closest friends, you had witnessed his constant indulgence in their infatuation over him.

Satoru never acted beyond his captivating smiles and provocative words. It was all a game to him, something to keep him entertained and to raise his already astronomically large ego.

Therefore, when he called you over and over, told you that you were gorgeous, and blabbered about how much he loved to have you by his side, you thought nothing of it. Satoru was your friend, and you would look after him over and over again solely because of that fact.

The four of you were bonded, closer than anyone else on your campus. You may have been a bit too cliquey for others’ taste, but you all loved each other dearly, and that’s all you assumed Satoru’s drunk words were: love for a friend being portrayed incorrectly due to the alcohol.

And boy, did you love Satoru dearly, as much as you loved Shoko and Suguru. You loved him so much that you’d rub his back every time he’d throw up into your toilet and bring him fresh clothes for the morning every time he was too hungover to make it back to his dorm.

You loved him so much that you’d take care of him as long as he allowed you, as long as when you were sober and he was intoxicated, he needed you in a way he would never need you when his mind was clear and alert. You loved him so much that no matter how each compliment and loving gaze he tossed your way in the midst of his drunken stupors sent butterflies swirling through your tummy, you’d allow yourself to bury your feelings deep down.

After all, the sun would always rise and the haziness of his eyes would always disappear, and he would always have to go back to being Satoru Gojo. The strongest who needed no one.

You arrived outside the convenient store a few minutes later, approaching your two friends slowly. The 24-hour convenience store sign provided the only source of light amidst the darkness and buzzed softly over the boys’ heads.

Suguru was leaning beside the store entrance against the wall, hands in his pockets, eyes closed, and head resting against the brick. Satoru was sitting on the curb with his legs splayed out before him and his bag to the side, humming some song loudly to himself.

He was quick to catch sight of you once you stepped into his vision. His face lit up and he jumped to his feet, stumbling to the side before rushing over to you sloppily. He clung to you immediately, long arms circling around yours from the side and pulling you to his chest. He leaned his head atop yours, his glasses crashing against your forehead painfully.

“Finally, y’took forever,” he moaned, leaving you very little room to breathe. You huffed, clenching your jaw and craning your neck out to try to find some space for oxygen. You patted his arm with your hand stiffly, unable to move much more than that.

“I know, I know. Five minutes was just so long,” you agreed sarcastically, to which Satoru nodded aggressively.

“Way too long.”

Suguru pushed himself off of the wall when he heard your voice, opening his eyes and sauntering tiredly over to the two of you. You looked up at him from where you stood, trapped, and you could see a smugness dancing in his fatigued eyes despite his agitation. “Don’t look at me like that, dick,” you seethed. “Your lazy ass couldn’t walk him back?”

“I told you, he wanted to see you,” he shrugged. “Besides, you and I both know it’s physically impossible to get Satoru to do something he doesn’t want to do. He’s such a big baby.”

He eyed the blue eyed sorcerer who poked out his tongue childishly, tugging you closer into him.

“Just tell m’you hate me, Sugu,” Satoru frowned.

“Yeah, yeah.” The dark haired student leaned down to grab Satoru’s bag and hand it to you. “Here. I’m walking in this direction,” he pointed behind him.

You scrunched your brows. “That’s gonna add like fifteen minutes to a two second walk,” you pointed out.

“If it means peace and quiet, so be it,” he sighed.

“Awee, tired a’me already?” Satoru giggled, raising an arm to poke Suguru’s stiff shoulder.

“Yes,” he deadpanned. “Good night, you too. Be safe and text me when you’re in. And for the love of god, get this idiot to sleep when you get back,” the seventeen year old sweatdropped.

“You say that like it’ll be easy,” you seethed.

“Mhm.”

With that, Suguru turned over his shoulder and walked off, leaving you and Satoru alone once again.

“God, he’so moody,” Satoru chuckled. “W’don’t need ‘im anyway. Got all I need right’here.”

“He’s your best friend, Toru. You’ll always need him.”

“Mmmaybe, but dn’t tell ‘im that. It’ll go to his big head.”

You laughed.

“Alright, Toru, come on,” you nudged yourself away from his embrace. He released you, but was quick to sling his arm over your shoulders as you guided him around with your hand on his back. He leaned slightly over you, causing you to trip under his weight. He was so tall and heavy, draping himself comfortably over your figure. He already had absolutely no concept of personal space, but it was so much worse when he was under the influence. “Okay, yeah, one step at a time. Let’s get you home,” you guided sweetly.

“‘Kay,” he mumbled. “Mmm, some ramen would b’good right now, don’t y’think?” he murmured. “Should’make some when we- when we get back.”

“Sure. Okay. We can make some ramen,” you lied. You silently prayed he’d forget the suggestion once he was in his dorm.

Satoru spent the entire walk yapping, swaying back and for and bringing you along with him. He’d almost made the two of you fall about ten times, and what was meant to be a quick walk lasted double the original time. You were sure that Suguru had already made it back to his dorm by the rate the two of you were moving.

The sight of Satoru’s dorm room was like seeing the gates of heaven open before you. You exhaled in relief when you approached his door, which was irresponsibly unlocked. The guy had been out for hours and hadn’t even bothered to secure his room.

You shoved the door open, pulling Satoru in with you. He removed his arm from around you after what felt like hours and stumbled forward, falling face first on his carpet. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath after setting his bag to the side, for you knew that you would not be getting to bed soon simply from that action alone.

Satoru groaned, turning his head to the side to breathe. His glasses had risen up over his forehead crookedly, revealing his glassy ocean eyes and snow white lashes fluttering sleepily over them. “I could sleep right’here,” he mumbled, limbs spread out like a starfish.

You shook your head and closed his door behind him. You pulled out your phone quickly, pulling up Suguru’s contact and snapping a picture of the ridiculous sight before you. You sent it along with a message letting him know that the two of you made it safe.

Seconds later, Suguru responded with a ‘yeah, good luck with that.’

You put your phone on the dresser, crouching down over him. “Well too bad you’re not going to,” you said. You grabbed his arm and tugged at it. “Come on, big guy. Let’s get you on the bed.”

“Why?” he pouted, closing his eyes and poking out his glossy bottom lip.

“Because you’ll regret it in the morning when you wake up with an aching back.”

“But I don’t wanna get up,” he groaned, allowing his body to go limp as you mustered up all your strength to pull at him. You grunted, tugging him backward as best as you could.

“Don’t make this so difficult,” you groaned. “Get up!”

“Noooooo,” he whined.

“What the hell have you been eating?!” you asked breathlessly. “You weigh like two hundred pounds!”

“Maybe y’re jus’ weak,” he snickered to himself, and you almost dropped his hand and walked out of his room.

“Maybe I should just beat your ass,” you grumbled.

He turned to smirk at you, eyes glinting with hazy mischief. “Try it. I won’t go easy on you.”

You couldn’t help the blush that fought its way to your cheeks under his gaze. Even drunk, he knew how to get under your skin.

“Shut up,” you grumbled and he laughed.

You tried again, yanking his arm, but to no avail. He wouldn’t budge.

“Ugh! Satoru!” you shouted in frustration. “I can’t stand it when you get like this.”

The Gojo’s smile fell, brows curving in distaste. “Who the hell’s Satoru?” he frowned.

You blinked, lowered his arm and leaning down by his side. “What?”

“Y’call me Toru. What happened’ta Toru?” he repeated, childishly, eyes gleaming with impatience.

“Yeah, well, when you’re not pissing me off, you’re Toru” you tilted your head to look him in his eyes. “Why?”

He groaned loudly, his dramatics so boisterous that they could probably wake up the rest of the hall. You cocked a brow, releasing his arm as he shifted around, twisting himself onto his back and flopping about. “Why d’you do this t’me,” he complained, lifting his arms up and into the air.

You sighed. “What are you on about, drama queen?”

“Pick m’up.”

“Oh, now you wanna get up, huh?”

“If’t means ’m Toru again, yes,” he pouted again. “Pick m’up,” he demanded once more.

You scoffed a laugh, standing to your feet and leaning over him. “So dramatic,” you said as you grasped his outstretched hands, leaning back to pull him up. He assisted you this time, bringing himself to a seated position before you helped him onto his feet. He stumbled again and you held onto his hands, leading him over to the edge of his bed.

“F’ryou,” he responded, plopping down onto his comforter. He leaned over unstably and you caught his head, guiding him back upright. He hummed softly, leaning into the warmth of your palm, eyes half lidded. “Thank you.”

“I got you, Toru,” you smiled, bending down to tug his shoes off. When you did, you missed the wide beam that stretched across his face at the sound of his nickname rolling from your lips.

After setting his shoes at his door, you went to move about his space familiarly, walking over to his bottom dresser drawers and pulling out an old tee and sweatpants.

Satura watched you lazily, eyes dragging along your figure as you so carefully picked out his clothes. He could feel his heart thrumming in his chest like a rhythm, his flushed cheeks growing warmer simply from the sight of you.

You walked back over to him, clothes folded over your arm. He smiled up at you in a daze, appearing like a giddy school boy sitting there patiently for you. You gave him a strange look, placing his clothes next to him on the bed and removing his glasses from his head, setting aside on his lamp lit nightstand.

When you turned back to him, his eyes hadn’t left you. His pupils were blown wide and his lips stretched into a dumb grin. He spread his legs out and leaned back on his elbows tiredly, admiring you, for the first time tonight, with no words.

“Why are you staring at me like that, weirdo?” you rose a brow.

His smile widened. “Y’just so pretty.”

Just like that, butterflies swarmed as if on cue. Your brows drew together as you looked at him, examining his face for any detection of mischief or deception, but you found none. His gaze upon you was so raw, so full of ardor and sweltering tenderness. He looked like a puppy dog watching you in such a way, and you tried your very hardest to keep your legs from turning to jelly beneath you.

You cleared your throat, looking down and busying yourself with unfolding his clothes. “You’re drunk.”

“On you.”

God, he just wouldn’t stop. His presence was so suffocating, it filled the room with its weight. You felt as though you were going to lose your breath if he kept looking at and talking to you like that.

“Stop,” you sighed, tossing his shirt at him. It hit his face softly, rolling down into his lap. Even that hadn’t been enough for his eyes to rip from your face. He simply reached blindly for the fabric, gaze unwavering.

“You gon’help me change, pretty?” he asked gently, looking to you expectantly.

“Now what makes you say that?” you questioned, though you both knew full well that you were going to do just that.

“Cause’you’ve done it b’fore. When I was black’out.”

You whipped your head up at him to find a teasing expression on his features. “There’s no way you remember that?!” you said, incredulously.

He giggled to himself slightly. “No, Shoko tol’me.”

You internally cursed the brunette for betraying you in such a way. “Asshole,” you muttered to yourself, leading Satoru to laugh louder.

As if on instinct, sat up straight and held his arms out. “M’ready,” he cheesed.

“You’re such an idiot, you know that?”

He didn’t respond as you walked up to him and stood between his spread legs. He was suddenly silent, observing you closely. You could feel those eyes glued to you, burning into your skull like a line of blue fire. You held your breath, keeping your eyes on your fingers as they reached for the top bottom of his collared shirt.

You had done this so many times, on so many nights, and the majority of the time, he was either passed out or too drunk to keep his head up and pay attention to what you were doing. This night, however, he was more alert than he had been at this stage of his intoxication. He must not have gotten very far into his drinking, you had thought to yourself.

He was still pretty drunk, but the gleam in his eye made you question if he would forget this moment like he usually did when you helped him into more comfortable clothes.

His chest rose and fell delicately under your hands. You popped one button open, then the next, and the next. Your soft fingers brushed against the smoothness of his skin occasionally, the white haired boy jumping slightly every now and then at the contact.

Satoru broke his eyes from you for just a second, looking down and following the buzzing vision of your fingers working down his shirt, freeing his abdomen for you to see. You could hear his soft breaths, deep and long, as though he were breathing manually, desperately finding a way to recall how to inhale and exhale properly.

He looked back up at you once the entire shirt was undone, a bashful tint on his cheeks. You were so careful with him, so attentive, so patient and loving with your touch. Shoko and Suguru had always looked after him when he drank by making sure he got home safe when you weren’t around, but they never took care of him the way you did so gently, so earnestly.

Flashes of your touch and your face would strike him during those early morning hangovers, feeding into the initial yearning he already harbored for you within his chest and his gut. He knew you were always there, in his dreams and his fragmented memories, but he could never recall how or why so clearly.

So now, he soaked you in, devouring each feather light touch and tug at his clothing. He was captivated by the way you moved around his room as though you lived there, like you’d been there a hundred million times over in this exact position. How you talked to him with a tinge of coddling and kindness in your voice that he rarely detected through your normal day to day.

You handled him with such care, as if he were going to break, and it baffled him. It baffled him how he, one of the strongest individuals to roam this earth, was nothing but putty at your loving hands. He felt so vulnerable sitting there before you, staring intently at your face as you tugged his sleeves down each arm and pulled his shirt from his body. He had expected to feel cool, but he was surrounded by nothing but warmth. Whether it was you or the liquor, he wasn’t sure, but he could feel himself slipping into a trance induced by your beauty and your care.

Everything in his vision was vibrating except for the vision of you, constant and comforting. He wanted nothing more than to melt into you, to allow you to envelope him within your arms. He wanted to stare at you until he couldn’t see anymore, to memorize every curve in your jaw and dent in your brows, the twitch of your nose and the hitch of your breath, the swipe of your tongue over your lip and the flutter of your lashes over mesmerizing, gentle (e/c) eyes.

He was so drunk, yes, but you were doing very little to sober him up. He felt like he was floating and falling into you all at once.

You grabbed his t-shirt in your hands and spread it out, reaching your hands through the hole to stretch it over your friend’s head. He poked his head through the neck hole, hair messily sprawling over his forehead as a result, and pulled his arms through the sleeves, disorientedly.

You still hadn’t looked at him. You were already moving to grab his sweats when you felt a hand reach up and snake over your waist.

You jumped, snapping your eyes up to his finally. His brows were pinched together and his lips were parted, the blue of his irises a stark contrast against the pink shade of his face. You were close, your legs bumping the edge of the bed while Satoru’s legs caged around you. You stopped suddenly, his touch catching you off guard.

He didn’t say anything. He only snaked his other hand around you, settling them on your hips, leading your heart to slam into your chest.

“S-Satoru, what…” you trailed off, losing yourself in his eyes. There wasn’t a single thought behind them except you. “What’s wrong? You want me to stop?”

His Adam's apple bobbed with a gulp he took, thumbs rolling over your hips experimentally. He looked down, over your body, watching his hands grasp your waist gently as if the feeling and the sight of it weren’t real. He could hear your heart pounding, see your blood rushing, practically taste your nerves despite his drunken state.

You were so overstimulating. Worse than the five shots he’d tossed back.

“Toru?” you called him again. He saw your lips move before the sound registered within his brain, the sweet address sending shivers down his spine. He could barely keep himself upright, but he needed more of you.

“Why’dyou do’this?” he mumbled, unsure of what he was even asking.

Your nose scrunched in that cute way it did when you were confused. “Huh?”

“Y’always… look after’me. Always’take care’a’me. Why?”

You were growing nervous. Your heartbeat was loud enough, you were sure Satoru could here, and your face was hot to the touch. “Because… because you’re one of my closest friends, Toru. I care about you.”

He shook his head slightly. “‘S’not th’same.”

“What do you mean?”

“S’not th’same as Sho ‘n Sugu. S’different. You’re different.”

“I…” you weren’t sure what to say. He had you cornered, trapped into him with no escape. You were hyper aware of his fingers gripping your waist softly and his eyes eating you alive. Your senses were through the roof, and you wanted to run and break away from this contact, from this feeling, but you couldn’t. You were frozen.

You could feel him tugging himself closer, leaning into you, pressing you closer.

“You’re drunk, Satoru. You should get to bed. We can talk about this tomorrow, when you’re sober,” you tried to change the subject.

“No,” he refused. “Please, no. Please.”

His hands trailed up your waist, feeling all around your body. You were perfect, too perfect. He couldn’t get enough of you.

His hands reached your arms, then your shoulders, and finally your face, cradling your cheeks softly within his warm palms.

You pursed your lips, eyes scattering over his face as he gazed at you. He drew your face closer, his sharp nose brushing yours. He was so close, you could smell the alcohol on his breath.

You lifted your hands to grasp his wrists, preparing to pull his hands from your flustered face.

“Satoru,” you warned. “What are you doing?”

“Don’t want y’to’go,” he whispered, thumbs smoothing over your hot skin. You shivered, your mind battling against itself as you tried to decide what to do.

He was drunk. He had no idea what he was doing. He was just being clingy.

“Please. Please stay, (Y/n). Need’you.”

“I’m not going anywhere, love,” you told him, meeting his eyes directly. “I’m right here.”

“But’don’t leave tonight. Y’always leave. Don’t. Stay. Sleep w’me.”

Your heart swooned, ached, swelled. Satoru was always so needy, but never to this extent. He was practically falling apart before you.

He stared at you longingly, brows curved as if he was going to cry. “Please, pretty. Please.”

This boy had you so weak. There was nothing he could have asked for that you wouldn’t have said yes to. It was why you were always showing up at his side in the middle of the night when he called for you, why you let him lounge around your room at any hour of the day when he was bored, why you brought him snacks when he was too busy training to eat, why you let him drag you and the others about simply because he wanted you all to tag along with him everywhere.

Satoru Gojo could have asked you for the moon, and you would have pulled it down by a rope just to see him smile at you and feel his arms wrap around your frame as he pulled you into an overbearing hug.

You loved him to death. You loved him more than you thought your teenage heart capable of loving anyone, and you feared his knowledge of your feelings because of how prideful he was, because of how many girls harbored the same crush, and because of how many confessions he received on a daily basis.

You wanted to protect yourself from heartbreak by the world’s most desirable boy. You didn’t want to make yourself look so pathetic before him, more so than any ordinary person already was, but the way he begged for you… the way those big eyes drew you in and his hands framed your face, the way he looked at you as if you were the only thing that could save him from his mental torment had you giving in completely.

“Okay,” you nodded, releasing his wrists to cup his face in return. He swooned, hands falling into his lap as he submerged himself in your touch. “Okay, I’ll stay.”

A whimper fell past his lips as he fell into you, head collapsing into your chest and hands gripping around your thighs. Your hands moved to his back, stroking him soothingly as he clutched you to him, murmuring nonsense. You could tell his intoxication was tipping into exhausting by the way he slumped into you, and you sighed. He was going to be the death of you, this one.

The time ticked closer to three once you had managed to get him to let you change him out of his pants and gurgle some mouthwash before going to bed. He kept himself close to you for the rest of the night, whether it was by clinging to your shirt or holding your hand or leaning his head over your shoulder. He had gone completely nonverbal, relying on his actions instead to convey his desperation for your closeness to him.

You had finally managed to get him into bed at 3:30 am. He plopped down into his messy sheets, face smothered by the pillow and feet hanging off the edge of the bed. He was too tall for his own good.

You were busying yourself with turning out his lights when you saw his hand twitch out, grasping through the air. You knew what he was asking.

You slipped your shoes off and pulled your sweatshirt over your head, leaving you in your night tee and shorts. You carefully climbed onto the soft furniture, grabbing Satoru’s outstretched hand. He turned himself to face you immediately, yanking you down into him. You squeaked, collapsing beside him on the bed.

He didn’t let you move to grab the comforter to pull it over your body. Instead, he threw his arms around you and buried his face into the crook of your neck, securing a leg over yours and trapping you against him for the final time that night.

You tensed, Gojo’s hair brushing softly against your chin as his warm breath fanned contently against your neck. He curled himself into you, clutching you as though you were his last lifeline.

He stroked his hair softly, scratching his scalp as the beat of your heart lulled him into sleep.

You exhaled softly, staring up at the ceiling as sleep slowly overtook your body. You prayed that Satoru wouldn’t remember this night. He normally woke up late, so you hoped that you would at least have had time to slip from his room in the morning and disappear into yours.

You wanted to forget everything. You wanted to forget the way he looked at you, the way he held you, the way he touched you. You wanted to bury it all deep down, to move on as friends like you always had been and always would be. You wanted to leave it all behind, but Satoru had a hold on you that you could not escape. It was the effect he had. Consuming, powerful, and entirely too dangerous for you to indulge.

Satoru was a needy drunk. That was all you could chalk him and the intimacy of this night up to be. A consequence of his intoxication.

But somewhere deep within you, somewhere you did not bother to explore, a spark of hope glimmered for your love, a spark that made you believe just for a moment that Satoru loved you too.

336 notes · View notes

angelplummie · 20 hours

Note

here for revenge.

being lily's best friend - you grow up with her - you're in the donaldsons orbit for all your formative years. you develop a crush on art that turns into love as you grow older. your home life isn't so glamorous. you spend lots of weekends at the donaldsons. art has tucked you in. brought you snacks when you stayed up late for movie nights, making you and lily promise not to tell tashi. you were there when art and tashi got divored, held lilys hand and pretended not to be happy inside at the thought of getting closer to art.

lily gets into college - a big smart one because she has tashi's ambition and leaves you behind, you're still stuck at home because your dreams have always been smaller.

maybe its not appropriate, to still spend time with art. but he's lonely. tashi left, and now his daughter has and you're the only one left in his life that actually wants to be around him, that has always looked at him with stars in your eyes. its probably not healthy. there should be a boundary there. your lilies, not his.

but you like being around him and he likes having someone to take care of. you come over and he makes you eat something healthy and you needle him about spending all his time at home and how he should get out more, and he rolls his eyes, tells you he should be saying the same to you, you're young and beautiful and you should be dating around.

but how can you date around when art donaldson is your dream man? when you're happiest at his side, eating what he makes you. you want more though. you want to share his bed, warm it for him, you want to make him not so lonely, you want him to stop seeing you as a little girl and as the adult you've grown up to be - so you start wearing less and less around him. start acting more and more like a housewife.

art accepts it without even realizing. now you just need to find the right opportunity to pounce.

WHEW. this one is long so buckle up

“art?”

“mr donaldson.”

you roll your eyes.

“mr donaldson, how come you never started dating again?”

he chopped the lemon with a deft clunk, eyes never leaving the knife.

“never felt the urge.”

“what does that mean?”

“what i just said. never felt the need to.”

“hm.”

you sat on the island, next to the chopping board. your legs swung haphazardly, and you watched art as he chopped.

why was he playing this game? he could’ve told you to leave, to stop coming back and bothering him, that this was inappropriate. and yet. he didn’t even tell you to get your sorry butt off the counter, or some such dad-ism. the low glow of the many warm lamps that adorned such a luxurious house illuminated art so softly, he looked as young as the day lily was born. he was as fit as back then, if not meatier. he didn’t have the pouch your dad had, but the years had given him a thickness. instead of wasting away like most lean men did, he struggled to the other side. he got broader. layer upon layer of muscle encased in a thin finishing of fat. he was skinnier when you were a kid, but he had no reason to be lean now. under his chin a tiny hammock of pudge rested as his head tilted down, kissed by light stubble. his blonde hair was streaked in silver, but that somehow made him younger looking. made him glow. he had grown it out, by your suggestion. he was everything in the world a man should be.

“what about you?”

“i hate boys. they’re all stupid.”

“you got that right. you’re too good for all of them, never settle.”

“maybe it’s just boys my own age. theyre so immature.”

arts wide chest heaves. his eyes flick to you then flick back down. you see it all, and cross one leg over the other.

“maybe.”

“what were you like when you were my age?”

he laughs at the memory.

“stupid, immature, evil. if i was anything to go by you should swear off men entirely until menopause.”

air left your chest cavity.

“i don’t wanna wait. i want a fully formed one.”

you watched the muscles in arts forearms flex as he squeezed the lemon onto salad. the main course was cooking, was singing loudly on the stove. art had gotten into cooking after the divorce. it took all his attention and put it in one place, something complex and delicate and time consuming. it helped to clear his head. it wasn’t helping right this second.

“i shouldn’t say that,” he said curtly,”boys your age aren’t so bad. give them a go and quit hanging out with an old man.”

“but i like you, old man.”

art was so harsh on himself. he really wasn’t that old. and you really weren’t that young.

he pressed his lips together and kept squeezing. his pink lips, that gave his face the everlasting youth it held. he shrugged his shoulders in that way he did when he was confronted with the truth of your arrangement. there was something going on. something very, very, very wrong. you were the same age as his daughter. 3 months younger. he was the worst man in the world. the worst person to ever breathe. what could he do though? tell you to go? tell you to leave his house and never come back? what would become of you then? without him, what pillar of paternity would you rely upon? what new low would you reach? what men would you come across, and what would you do to please them? while he gingerly entertained you, you dangled something in front of his face that others would not have the restraint or morality to resist. if you had to move to another target, your next victim might not care so deeply for your wellbeing. were you not altogether safer, sitting in his kitchen, eating his caesar salad, rather than inhaling second hand cigarettes from old wrinkled fucks who might murder you, or worse-

“art?”

“mr donaldson.”

“you got a bunch of lemon pips in the salad.”

“oh.”

he set down the lemon.

“are you ok? you seem tense.”

“i’m good. are you cold? i can turn on the heating if you like.”

“no. it’s actually quite warm in here.”

he hears the zip of your hoodie and starts away from the island, under the pretence of getting a paper towel to deposit the lemon seeds on. your jumper clatters to the counter, and you watch his adam’s apple bob as he swallows. low cut top. he knows that’s what you’re wearing. because that’s all it’s been for the past 2 months. your mini skirt flowers around you as you sit, but when you stand each swish and sway of the fabric is a death sentence. god forbid you take the stairs for some ungodly reason.

“hey, you know what you said about never having the urge?”

oh, fuck off, he thought. fuck off. leave him be. leave him alone. release him.

“yes.”

“you can’t really mean that can you?”

“sure i can.”

“i mean, you can. but i don’t think you do.”

you twirled a strand of hair in between your fingers. your stomach grumbled, loud enough that he could hear. you were so hungry you could die, but if you ate what art was frying your breath would smell like fish all night.

“let me check the salmon.”

“i’m not that hungry. you can’t mean that you never had the urge to. everyone has urges.”

“well sure. but after tashi, i needed a breather. a grace period, if you will. you can’t go from marriage with a woman like her right into dating.”

“but it’s been 3 years. you must be over it by now?”

he ignored the hope in your voice. ignore, ignore, ignore.

“i am over it. but. women scare me.”

he walked languidly over the salmon. it was ready.

“i don’t scare you, i’m a woman.”

a woman. he turned off the stove, and turned to fix you with a stare for the first time tonight. a woman. that was not the word he would use to describe you. your eyes were the size of saucers, and you bat your lashes languidly, like you knew how much you were making him suffer. you sat up pin straight, and twisted your spine to make eye contact with him. your body. he tried not to look. tried not to look in front of you and see the twisted grin come across your lips. but he was a weak man. the weakest of men, and his eyes dragged over where a fatherly view should never cross. your perky new tits, the press and curve of your ass against the counter, the plush of your thighs. it seemed you had grown up overnight, and didn’t know you were still a baby. you’re a baby. you knew what you were doing to him. you knew. he blushed involuntarily.

“you scare me most of all.”

his voice trembled. he hadn’t meant to say that. hadn’t meant to dignify you will any response at all. it had crossed his mind and then it crossed his lips.

your eyes lit up with extreme delight. he liked to make you happy, but his stomach churned with the thought of why.

“why?”

he turned back around, and plated up your salmon, adding potatos and asparagus from the same pan, drizzling it all in the residual oil.

“why art?”

“mr donaldson.”

a twinge of irritation tickles your stomach. what was he fighting this for? you’re all grown up now. you both knew what was going to happen. he was resisting fate, the inevitable.

all your life you had known he was the man you were meant to be with. from that first time he kissed your forehead as you dozed off on the couch, thinking you were asleep. when his strong arms would carry both you and his daughter, flinging you around, threatening to dunk you in their backyard pool. when he would catch your eye in the rear view mirror as he drove you around and winked. he was so nice. so nice and brave and kind and warm, and if you had to be with any man it should be him because you’ve loved him since you were 8, and now you’re old enough to claim it. you’re not just a dumb kid with a crush. you love him. you understand it being one sided back then. but it isn’t anymore, and you wouldn’t let him deny it. with gliding footsteps you approached him, drawing closer every second he didn’t turn around. a hand rests on his shoulder blade.

“just stop,” you breathed after a pause.

his spatula clattered to the pan with a metallic thunk. you pull your hand away like he burnt you. he gripped the counter with a sigh and hung his head.

“you stop. stop it now,” his voice was stern. you felt yourself shrink. art was never stern.

“i know what you’re thinking, and it’s not going to happen. this has gone on far too long and it stops right now.”

a mere few paces from his wide curved back, you blink. the urge to touch him is overwhelming. you want to press your hand to his back, feel him under your palm and tell him you know he wants this. you know he wants this just as bad as you do.

but you don’t, because he’s angry at you, and he’s never been angry at you before.

“i’ve let you come here and cooked you food and watched movies with you because you’re a good kid. because i knew you as a kid and i know your problems with your father and i wanted to be there for you when lily is away. but you have taken this too far. you’re my daughters best friend. i have cleaned up your vomit twice, i baked you a cake for your 13th birthday- it’s not right. i’ve tried to be understanding, i’ve tried to ignore it, but you never drop it. never. your lack of self respect is staggering. you have to drop it right now or, im sorry but you can’t come back here anymore.”

every muscle fibre was clenched. if the counter top wasn’t marble it would’ve crunch and fell away under his grip. he couldn’t take it anymore. he didn’t know how much longer he could be good. didn’t know how much longer he could take resisting you.

maybe he was harsh. but it was the right thing to do. the only thing to do. he rested his elbow on the counter, and between his forefinger and his thumb held the bridge of his nose. he exhaled loudly. he hadn’t meant for it to come out that way, hadn’t planned it. but now it was out. he had stared the elephant in the room dead in its eyes. he felt lighter, somewhat liberated.

until he turned around after a few too many seconds of silence to see you turned away from him, slightly hunched over. he stepped closer, and saw your hands covering your mouth. you body jolted, and you drew in quick, grasping breaths. you were crying. he said your name, and you didn’t turn to look at him.

“i’m sorry. i’m sorry mr donaldson.”

all the relief he felt was replaced by swift, acute, crushing guilt. your hair fell over your face, shielding you from him. he said your name once more. you sniffed.

“hey, hey hey hey.”

against his better judgement, and because of the aching of his heart, he took you gently by the shoulders, and turned you to face him.

“i’m sorry. i’m so sorry.”

tears spill from your eyes and you wipe them away with a heavy hand, refusing to meet his eyes. his neck craned down to your eye level, his thumbs began tracing circle in your shoulders. a thoughtless gesture but one that made you cry even harder.

“i’m sorry. i don’t know what i was thinking. im just so sorry.”

“hey, it’s ok. it’s alright.”

“it’s not alright. i’ve ruined everything. i’ve made it- so- weird. i just thought that you- you wanted me. i’m so stupid.”

your mascara runs, painting your face with your turmoil.

how could you be so dense? you had been making him uncomfortable. he didn’t want you. the only reason he even let you hang around was obligation. because of what you meant to lily. you didn’t mean anything to him. you were just some kid. did he even think you’re pretty? you bet he didn’t.

worse than that, you had disappointed him. him. he was supposed to be everything your dad wasn’t. and now he was disappointed. you had failed. you had ruined everything. what even were you? were you even human?

“don’t. you’re not stupid. don’t say that.”

“i’m sorry. i just- i wanted to make you happy. that’s all i ever wanted. i wanted you to be happy with me. you were so- so- so crushed after the divorce, i-i just-“

he guides you over to the bar stool, and you let him. you sit across from each other. his hand touches your cheek, the other holds you shoulder still. the touch of his hand quietens your babbling, your eyes round and wet and open.

“you do make me happy.”

your lips parted, plump with crying.

“i do?”

he cringes at the hope in your voice, at the feeling in his chest that it stirs. the feeling in his whole body at touching, after so many years, your soft skin. the last time he held your face you were 8, crying over a bumped knee. he had very different feelings now than he did then. sympathy and concern had ebbed, making way for much darker, much more corrosive emotions. he felt guilt and want broil in the chambers of his stomach, and the evilness inside him told him how easy to would be to get what he wanted. how close he was.

“yes. you’re my favourite buddy, we have a great time together,” he ruffled your shoulder like you pat a dog, speaking quick to placate you.

the hope in your eyes dwindled.

“so,” you sniffled, “you don’t feel anything for me? you don’t-don’t want me at all?”

with your convulsive sobbing your chest rose and fell, and with each jolt you spilled further out of your thread bare top. he closed his eyes, and swallowed, adam’s apple bobbing. inhaling deeply, his fingers released your shoulder.

“it doesn’t matter what i want.”

“yes it does, it matters the most,” you answer immediately, tears gone from your eyes, now sliding down from your water line and down your cheek, “what do you want?”

what does art want? when was the last time he asked himself that question? years. at least. he drew away from you. you felt sick.

he turned on the stool, ducking his head and cradling his face in his hands

“i want…”

what the fuck was he saying? he couldn’t say this to you. he couldn’t. but he was.

“i… you’re a very gorgeous girl. you’re sweet. you’re smart. you’re funny. i like you very much.”

he said it like he was confessing to murder. elbow resting on his knee, his hand covered his eyes with splayed fingers. god, he was going to hell for this. even saying the words felt like the deepest sin imaginable, and he was sanitising his truth extensively. what he thought about at night, when you went home and his house became cold again, when he got into the shower and mechanically relieved himself into the drain, that was truly deplorable. when he touched himself, it was you he thought of. invariably. everything a man could possibly do to a girl, everything a girl could possibly do to a man, he had laid up in his bed and touched himself to with you in mind. ropes and ropes and ropes of cum in your honour, so gently splattered on shower walls and bedsheets he needed to wash anyway. sometimes he came on his torso, just to feel young and frivolous, like you were. and when he did his brain would turn back on, and he would feel so guilty that he would lay there to soak up his guilt, a punishment for himself from himself. so yes. he wanted you. he wanted you very, very badly. with every fibre of his being, he craved you. and with every fibre of his soul, he hated himself for it. but apparently he was still talking. what his morality urged him his mouth couldn’t hear, or wouldn’t obey.

“so don’t think you’re delusional. you had every reason to think i might reciprocate.”

you watched him, glossy eyes wide as ever. he peeked from beneath his fingers, immediately covering his eyes again when he saw you watch him. he shouldn’t have said that. he shouldn’t have. that was bad, it’s only giving you hope, and there is no hope. he can’t, he can’t. he want to so badly but he can’t. god, no he can’t. it would be so easy but easy isn’t right and how could he ever look his daughter in the eyes again if he did? how could he look at tashi?

“mr donaldson?”

“mm,” he replied miserably.

“kiss me.”

slowly, exhausted, he lifted up his head. mistake. now he was thinking about it as he looked at your face, puffy and damp and shining like a star.

why did he look so disgusted? what was so wrong with you? you couldn’t stop yourself from barreling ahead, feeling his premature rejection like a rock in your stomach.

“just once. then i’ll leave and i’ll never bother you and you won’t see me anymore and i’ll go to church and ill get a therapist, but just once.”

he looks so tired. so tired and so fucking good. his eyes smouldered with deep thought, the thought only a mature man can have. he was so mature. he was so much larger than you. he could hurt you if he wanted to. he could make you do anything but all he did was look at you so tired it made you squirm inside. as your sobs died in your throat, regret and embarrassment become indistinguishable from desire.

he blinked slowly, and opened his mouth. the white of his teeth glittered. his tongue pawed the inside of his cheek. he was thinking about it.

how could he be thinking about it? he was the worst person in the world. and yet. and yet. one kiss. he could control it with one kiss. one kiss wouldn’t hurt. one kiss. he had kissed your head before. your cheek. what was so different about this?

wordlessly, he moved off the stool. heart in your mouth you waited. a tremulous breath shuddered from your chest as he took one step. two steps. three steps. until he was stood above you. his face was unreadable. not cold. not warm. just looking, appraising from above his brown lower lashes, down his strong kissable nose.

“one kiss?”

his hand rose slowly, palm facing upwards. his finger tips grazed your jaw, your chin, tilting your head up. fireworks burst in your stomach, and you resisted the urge to moan.

“one. that’s all.”

one. that would be all. one kiss and he would put this silly fascination away for good. a kiss is deniable. a kiss is nothing.

he stoops down, can feel the nerves vibrating from your skin. his head tilts slightly, and your eyes lock as he descends to your level. his hand moves into your hair, a combing hold. and you kiss. no tongue. your lips connect, mush and expand over the others. his nose touched your cheek. your arms remained stiff by your side as they gripped the stool. you felt the pinkness of his lips, felt the edge of his cupids bow. and then he pulled away.

there. one kiss. he had done what he had to to get you to drop it. had fulfilled your criteria, and now you could move on. now he could move on.

but if that was true, why was he leaning in again? why did almost tasting your saliva, a substance he had thought about in great detail, make him hungrier for it? why was almost having it worse than never coming close? why did he pull gently on your hair, making your head tip back, opening you mouth so he could kiss the part of you he craved; the inside part? why was he hard if it was over?

his tongue flicked gently inside, asking permission. your mouths closed together, making the kiss noise you hate hearing but love making. they open quickly and in sequence. your hands rise up to gently hover over his chest, barely grazing his shirt. you didn’t want to touch him too hard in case he dissipated into a cloud of smoke, an illusion.

but he was very real, and under your timid girlish touch he was undone. a soft exhalation like a groan into your mouth, and his tongue protruded. it touched yours and you tasted the salt on it, shivering. his other hand fell back to your shoulder, gripping so hard it was like had no idea what he was doing. feeling your mouth against his was all that there was. there wasn’t right, there wasn’t wrong, there was only sensation.

all the want he had saved for solitary and depressing masturbation now burst through his veins, into his actions and he kissed you with all the passion in him. with everything he’s never said, with all the times he held back with you, with tashi. he kissed you like if he didn’t he would die, breathing and groaning and grunting involuntarily. he mashed his face to yours, crushing your lips, taking your bottom lip between his teeth before recapturing your mouth in a sloppy open mouthed kiss. it felt like steam evaporated from where your met, so hot and wet.

you didn’t know what was your and what was art, where you finished and art began. you meshed like the broken pieces of a vase slotted against each other. his tongue became so wild it clipped the side of your mouth in its frantic exploration, and you sighed.

ultimately it was you who had to pull away. you pulled your hands into your own chest, gasping for breath. he didn’t move an inch. he gripped your shoulder still, cradled your face the same. he opened his eyes, chest rising and falling graciously.

he surveyed you, still too high from your touch to feel guilt, with lazy eyes. he was so fucked. your eyes sparkled like glitter. your lips shined pearly with his spit. his.

“art?”

“yes?”

“it’s not just one kiss is it?”

despite himself, despite everything, he smiled.

“no. i don’t think it is.”

#oh i had FUN with this one #not proofread #challengers #art donaldson #art donaldson smut #challengers smut #challengers x reader #poppy 🥰🥰#art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x reader smut #older man younger woman #30s art donaldson #30s art donaldson x reader #challengers x reader smut

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judespoets · 3 days

Text

𝙨𝙪𝙧𝙥𝙧𝙞𝙨𝙚 | 𝙟𝙪𝙙𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙝𝙖𝙢

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: you haven’t been feeling good. but what happens when jude connects the dots?

𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: dad!jude x fem!reader

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: signs of vomit/ throwing up

You and Jude start your day early, around 6:30 AM. The sun is just beginning to rise, casting a gentle glow through the curtains of your cozy home in Madrid. You nudge Jude gently, the both of you smiling as you hear the soft murmurs of your two-year-old son, Caleb, waking up in the next room.

You slip out of bed, heading to the kitchen to start breakfast and prepare Caleb's lunch for nursery. The kitchen is warm and inviting, filled with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. You expertly slice fruits, spread peanut butter on bread, and pack a healthy lunch for Caleb. Meanwhile, you hum a cheerful tune, occasionally glancing at the photos of your happy moments on the refrigerator.

Jude, still a bit groggy but smiling, makes his way to Caleb's room. He opens the door to find Caleb standing in his crib, wide-eyed and giggling with excitement. "Good morning, champ!" Jude says, scooping him up into his arms. He changes Caleb's diaper, tickling him slightly to keep the little boy's spirits high.

Once dressed, Jude helps Caleb into his favorite little football-themed outfit, a gift from one of his teammates.

They join you in the kitchen, where you had set out a nutritious breakfast for them.

Caleb babbles happily as you feed him pieces of fruit and yogurt.

Jude pours himself a cup of coffee, sharing a quick kiss with you and exchanging smiles filled with love.

"Good morning, my loves! Did you sleep well, Caleb?" You asked, smiling widely.

"Mornin', Mommy!“ was what Caleb babbled.

"He was so excited to wake up today. I think he knew it was nursery day." Jude told you, softly kissing the back of your hand

"He's been looking forward to seeing his friends. Here, let's get some breakfast in you both." You said as you started feeding Caleb again.

You sit at the kitchen table, Caleb in his high chair, eagerly reaching for his food.

You suddenly felt a wave of nausea wash over you. Putting your hand over your mouth lightly, trying to steady your breathing.

“You okay, baby?” Jude asked next to you, putting his hand on your thigh.

“I don’t know if just don’t feel so good right now.” You answered, looking at him.

“Okay, go lay down i’ll get Caleb ready don’t worry. Should I cancel training?” Jude asked you.

“No, no. It’s not an emergency. You go to training. You’ll take Caleb to nursery on your way, please? I’ll go lay down some more. Thank you babe.” You said, kissing Jude and Caleb, standing up and walking up the stairs with your slightly shaking legs.

“Come on, buddy. Let’s get you washed up and going.” Was the last thing you heard from downstairs before falling into a deep slumber under your sheets.

———

Jude turned the key in the lock, gently pushing open the door with Caleb in his arms. The house was shrouded in darkness, and he carefully navigated the familiar path to the living room, his eyes gradually adjusting to the dim light.

"Shh, buddy," he whispered to Caleb, who clung to him sleepily. "Looks like Mommy's still resting."

He set Caleb down, and the little boy toddled off to find his toys. Jude made his way to the bedroom, opening the door slowly to check on you. You were still curled up under the covers, your breathing deep and slow. He could see the pallor in your face even in the low light and felt a pang of concern.

Quietly, he backed out of the room, closing the door softly behind him. Back in the living room, Caleb had already begun to scatter his toys across the floor. Jude smiled tiredly at the sight, then headed to the kitchen.

He quickly prepared a simple dinner, heating up some soup he had made the night before. He wanted to keep it light for you, knowing you wouldn't have much of an appetite. Once everything was ready, he brought a tray to the bedroom, nudging the door open with his foot.

"(Y/N), love," he whispered, placing the tray on the nightstand. "I've got some soup for you."

You stirred, your eyes fluttering open. You gave him a weak smile. "Thank you, Jude. You didn't have to."

"Of course I did," he replied, sitting on the edge of the bed and brushing a strand of hair from your face. "How are you feeling?"

"Still not great," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jude's heart ached seeing you like this. "Do you want me to call the doctor?"

"No, I think I just need to rest," you said. "Thank you for taking care of everything."

Jude leaned down and kissed your forehead. "I'll handle it. You just focus on getting better."

You gave a small nod, your eyes already closing again. Jude quietly left the room, closing the door behind him. Back in the living room, he found Caleb busy with his toys, his giggles a comforting background noise.

Jude settled on the couch, keeping one eye on Caleb and another on his phone, ready to call the doctor if your condition didn't improve. He found it weird since you’ve been fine this whole time.

Later, you descended the stairs slowly, your empty soup plate in hand.

You moved carefully, trying not to disrupt the fragile equilibrium you had maintained throughout the day. Your stomach churned uncomfortably as you approached the living room, where Jude and Caleb were playing.

Jude glanced up, his face lighting up with a smile that quickly faded into a look of concern when he saw your pallor.

"Hey, how are you feeling?" Jude asked, rising to meet you, his hand gently touching your arm.

You gave a weak smile. "Still not great. I thought the soup might help, but..."

Suddenly, a wave of nausea hit you, and you instinctively covered your mouth, your eyes wide.

The scent of something — perhaps a lingering whiff from Caleb’s snacks or Jude's cologne — made your stomach rebel.

Jude, noticing your distress, quickly ushered Caleb to his feet.

"Caleb, let's put away the toys for a bit, okay? Mommy needs some quiet time," he said, his voice calm but urgent.

Caleb, sensing the seriousness, nodded and began gathering his toys. Before Jude could turn back to you, you rushed to the nearest bathroom. Jude followed closely, his worry deepening as he heard you retching.

He found you kneeling by the toilet, pale and trembling. "I’m here, (Y/N)," he said softly, rubbing your back in slow, comforting circles. "It’s okay. Just let it out.

You groaned between bouts of vomiting, the smell that had triggered your nausea still lingering in your mind.

Finally, the retching subsided, and you slumped back against Jude, who handed you a glass of water he’d fetched from the sink.

“Thanks,” you whispered, your voice weak. “I don’t know what came over me.”

“Probably just a bug,” Jude said, helping you to your feet. “Let’s get you back to bed. You need to rest.”

You nodded gratefully, leaning on Jude as he guided you back upstairs, his concern for you evident in every careful step.

As Jude helped you back upstairs, his mind raced with worry. He laid you gently on the bed, arranging the pillows to make you comfortable. As he did, he noticed you wincing slightly, your face still pale.

"Baby, do you remember what smell made you feel so sick?" Jude asked gently, brushing a strand of hair away from your forehead.

You thought for a moment, your brow furrowing. "It was… I think it was the smell of Caleb's peanut butter sandwich. It just hit me all of a sudden."

Jude's eyes widened slightly as a thought crossed his mind.

He recalled the last time you had been this sensitive to certain smells. It had been when you were pregnant with Caleb. Could it be happening again?

"My Love," he began cautiously, "do you think there’s a chance you might be pregnant?"

You blinked, the question catching you off guard. "I… I don't know. I suppose it's possible. I’ve been feeling off for a few days now."

Jude nodded, his concern mingling with a glimmer of excitement. "Maybe we should get a test, just to be sure."

You managed a small smile, your hand resting on your stomach. "Yeah, I think that’s a good idea."

Jude squeezed your hand reassuringly. "I'll run to the pharmacy and get one. You just rest, okay?"

As you closed her eyes, Jude leaned down and kissed your forehead. He felt a mixture of worry and hope as he headed out the door, ready to find out if your family was about to grow.

Back in the living room, Jude quickly tidied up, clearing away the remnants of Caleb’s snack and any other potential triggers for your nausea. He found Caleb sitting quietly on the couch, sensing the unusual tension.

"Dad, Mommy okay?" Caleb asked, his big eyes filled with concern.

Jude knelt down beside him. "Mommy's not feeling well right now, buddy. I need to go out for a bit to get something that might help her feel better. Can you be a good boy and stay here quietly until I get back?"

Caleb nodded solemnly. "I can do that."

Jude gave him a reassuring hug before grabbing his keys and heading out. The drive to the pharmacy felt longer than usual, his mind racing with possibilities. Once he arrived, he quickly located a pregnancy test and made his way back home, his heart pounding with anticipation.

When he returned, he found you dozing lightly, your breathing steady. He set the test on the nightstand and gently woke you up.

"Baby, I got the test," he whispered, helping you sit up slowly. "Do you feel up to taking it now?

You nodded, your eyes meeting his with a mixture of anxiety and hope.

Jude helped you to the bathroom, steadying you with each step.

After a few moments, you emerged, the test in your hand.

"Now we wait," you said softly, your voice trembling slightly.

Jude wrapped his arms around you, holding you close as you sat on the edge of the bed.

"No matter what, we'll face it together," he whispered, kissing the top of your head.

You sat in silence, the seconds ticking by slowly. Finally, you glanced at the test, your eyes widening.

"Jude... it's positive," you breathed.

A flood of emotions washed over Jude as he hugged you tightly, tears of joy and relief mingling with the worry.

"We're going to be parents again," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion.

You smiled through your own tears, feeling a renewed sense of hope and strength. "Yes, we are."

You stayed like that for a while, holding each other.

#jude bellingham #jude bellingham fic #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham fluff #jude bellingham fanfic #judespoets

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igotanidea · 2 days

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The great birthday mess up : Damian Wayne x Reader

Request: Yes! Reader planning a surprise party for Dami and him thining she's going to break up with him so he does it first.

Thank you anon! ;) made some changes to the requests hope you'll like it either way :)

***

„I don’t understand…” the words coming out of Damian’s mouth was the perfect example that hearing and getting were two completely different things.

“What’s there to not understand Y/N?. I’m breaking up with you. Sounds pretty simple even for your little brain.” He shrugged and turned to the window in their shared apartment so she wouldn’t see the strain on his face and clenched fists.

“But-“

“Please don’t go all whiny on me now. Just take my decision with dignity.

“I don’t understand—” she said again, as if that was the only sentence she could say in shock coursing in every cell in her body.

“Of course you don’t.” the tone he was giving her was ruthless, unlike the rapid beat of his heart calling her name with all the emotional power it could gather.

“Don’t you love me anymore?” as pathetic as it was, she almost downgraded herself to begging for an explanation with that sentence

“I’m just breaking up with you! Now will you leave me alone? I really do not want to see your face anymore.”

Well that was true, cause seeing her sad face was making his resolve crumble.

And It hurt. It hurt to tell her all those mean things.

Especially because Damian did not even wantto act like an asshole.

He did love her like a fool, he used to laugh at. If anything, he could just fall at her feet (as long as no one saw) and beg to forgive him.

But he couldn’t.

He couldn’t because she was the one who stopped loving him first.

***

Three weeks ago, “command center” at Wayne Manor.

“Ok, people, listen up! We’re on a mission of-“

“Is she for real?” Tim whispered turning to Dick who was holding back a laugh. If the boys knew that Y/N would take planning Damian’s 24th birthday in such a serious manner, almost putting on a war paint, one of them would bring a fancy camera to memorize it.

Instead it was only Jason taking photo after photo of the girl-in-command in her makeshift uniform and with indicator in hand.

“Get it off my face Todd!” she cried out trying to shove him off, but failing at dealing with the brick Jason was.

“Not a chance. You look ridiculous. And all that for the demon’s spawn? My god! He doesn’t deserve you.”

“Careful or I’ll think you’re telling me a compliment.”

“Compliment? No, no. It’s merely an observation of your poor choice in men. Both your boyfriend and those gathered here…”

“HEY!” Dick reacted almost immediately. No way he was going to let anyone, even his adoptive brother shit-talk him “I beg your pardon! I believe Y/N has an exquisite taste in men!”

“Just because you are here?” Jason mocked, giving Dick a smirk.

“Oh-my-god….” Y/N rolled her eyes throwing hands in the air “Could you please stop that…? I got a whole presentation about ideas for the party and –”

“A presentation?” While Dick and Jason did not give the girl any attention, at the mention of possible slides Tim became awfully animated. “What kind of slides? How many?”

“Oh-my-god…” She muttered again, this time covering face with hands gathering herself “God give me patience for those man-children.” One deep inhale and exhale on her part and she was ready to proceed. “SHUT UP!!” she yelled at the top of her lungs “SHUT UP ALL OF YOU!”

None of the men has ever seen her like that. Reddened on the face with fury in eyes and clenched fists. Clearly just a thought of Damian was making her spin out of control.

“Y/N--?”

“I’m about to tell you how it’s going to go from now on.” She hissed with an unobjectionable tone. “First, you’re going to sit on your pretty asses.” her gaze travelled to Dick knowing the attention in this particular moment will make him listen “Second, you’re going to stop throwing veiled insults.”

“But-“ Jason tried to chime in and object.

“I don’t fucking care if your inner Chandler Bing is coming to voice, you shut it or I will.”

“I’m not scared of you Y/N. You are just a –”

In a blink of an eye she was next to him, with one finger on his neck.

“You got about 100 vascular plexus in your body and so it happens I know how to put pressure on all of them.” She hissed before pulling back and taking on an innocent look “now, will you keep quiet, Jason?”

“I’m still not scared…” he muttered leaning on the doorframe with a frown and pout of a kicked puppy.

“Thank you very much. As for the plan, thirdly, you’ll stop asking me about my PowerPoint thing and actually watch it.”

“I’ve been dying to watch it the whole time!”

“ Shut up Tim!” came from three pair of mouths.

“Hey! Why am I being the only one yelled at by everyone? It’s harassment! Not fair!”

Y/N exhaled deeply, making a mental note to herself to never get those boys in men bodies in one room ever again and started explaining the details of her surprise party. Clearly, even despite knowing Damian’s family for a while she did not expect it would be this hard to get boys to cooperate.

However, per aspera ad astra, she managed to present her idea of a gift, the attractions and all the surprise party.

Obliging the boys under the pain of sudden and unexpected death, or at least mutilation, to keep their mouths shut. And since she was the girlfriend of a teenage assassin – this time no one dared to say a word.

***

Obviously the surprise party included working on it undercover. Therefore Y/N was spending more time with Jason, Dick and Tim to the detriment of her hours with Damian. Sneaking around. Dismissing or getting off lightly of answering his questions.

And he got suspicious, it was Damian Wayne Al-Ghul after all.

The young boy, spend hours and days fighting his natural urge to follow her when she was walking out the apartment with no explanation. Tie her to the chair, light the lamp in her face and force the information out of her.

But she was his girlfriend, not a villain.

So, getting too much into his head he came out to one plausible explanation – she was slowly letting him down. Not cutting the tie right away, because that was not who she was, but discouraging him.

“You’re going out again?” he asked, capably hiding the disappointment seeing her putting on shoes and jacket. Quickly he put the bouquet of flowers he bought for her behind his back, almost crushing the innocent buds, while simultaneously wondering if calling off reservation at her fav restaurant for the fourth time this month would get him kicked out of the VIP list. “I thought we could have a night out and—“

“Sorry, babe.” She smiled apologetically pecking his lips, grabbing the bag and already one foot out the door. “I gotta go do this thing that I told you about!”

“What thing---”

“Don’t wait for me, I’ll be back late. See you around buddy!”

Buddy?!

Did she just--? Holy fucking shit. Now Damian was sure, she stopped loving him.

And since he couldn’t watch her walk out his life like that, it was him, who was going to walk out of hers.

***

She run.

She run as fast as she could, hoping that if by some miracle she got into Flash’s speed the last fifteen minutes conversation with Damian would just turn out to be a dream. Or maybe she’ll find herself back in time, making sure it never happened in the first place.

What did she ever do to him to be treated like that?

Working her ass off to prepare a party? Using all her abilities to get people to help? Miraculously finding Damian’s friends from the past and even getting Jon to attend?

Fuck this shit! Fuck the life!

And out of all day’s in year he choose his own birthday to break up with her!

Fucking piece of shit, demon’s spawn, undeserving of a single second of the last 6 years she gave him.

Jason was fucking right as tragic as it sounded.

She burst into the Wayne Manor, where the boys were hanging the last decorations and immediately started ripping the garlands off and throwing tableware off the table.

“Y/N!!” Dick jumped off the ladder and rushed her direction, but it was Jason who reached her first. Almost tackling her to the floor, fighting against the rage of nails, teeth and screams coming out of her mouth.

“Stop it!”

“LET FUCKING GO OFF ME! THIS PARTY AIN;T HAPPENING UNLESS IT’S OVER MY DEAD BODY!”

“Better be careful with those words, cause in this family you get more than one chance at life.” Jason chuckled

“LET FUCKING GO!” she was struggling against his iron grip while Dick and Tim kneeled next to them

“No.” Jason responded calmly. “No, I’m not letting go off you.”

“None of us do, Y/N.” Tim added, moving a little bit closer, careful to not get a shoe in his face or something like that.

“What happened?” Dick asked calmly “come on, it can’t be that bad…”

“He broke up with me…” she sobbed. Not angry or furious anymore, but fully immersing in sadness. “Damian broke up with me…”

“HE WHAT?!” Dick yelled almost ready to start ripping off the decorations himself, successfully held back by Tim slapping him in the back of his head.

“She just told you. Can’t you see how shaken she is. And your making her say it again just for the sake of it? Get yourself together, Dick.”

“Sorry…”

“I don’t know what happened! I tried to talk and—”

“Talking to Damian about feelings, huh! Great idea Y/N.”

“GRAYSON!” Tim yelled slapping him again.

“Sorry…”

“I hate to break it to you guys, but it seems like the man of the day has just arrived.” Tim moved to the window where he saw the reflection of the car lights.

“WHAT!?”

“Don’t yell at me! Bruce brought him! It was your plan Y/N!!”

“Oh so one time Bruce could be late he’s actually on time?!”

“Again-stop yelling at me!”

“He cannot see me here! Not like this! Not crying cause he’s going to think that I –“

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY DAMIAN!

“—care….”

The ending of the sentence was not supposed to escape her mouth, but not caring about her intentions it did. Maybe it was the shock of Bruce entering Wayne Manor with his youngest son, almost convinced the surprise party was already prepared and they could celebrate.

Instead the two were met with four people, caught like deer in the headlights, crying y/n, Jason on the floor holding her for comfort, enraged Dick and a little scared Tim without a plan.

As far away from their usual selves as possible.

“Are we too early or—” Bruce started, but before he could finish the sentence, the nearby ladder started to totter, hooking over the poorly hanged b-day banner and –

“NO!!” Dick yelled and rushed towards it, but tripping over Jason’s leg, fighting desperately to gain back balance and stepping on Y/N’s hand in the process. She yelled and it scared Tim who took a step back, crashing into Dick. Seeing all that Jason rushed to his feet trying to catch the material that was already falling down, dangerously close to the table and the candlestick. In the commotion no one noticed Alfred the cat, who obliviously entered the room, only to almost be flattened.

As the poor animal rushed to Y/N’s side, making her reach arms to give cat some resemblance of shelter, Dick finally managed to grab the banner.

“I got it! YES! Once more I am the one to save the day and--- AH!” he slipped on the floor cause clearly Alfred the cat left a remnants of his fear there, sliding all the way up to the table.

“NO!” Y/N yelled trying to save any of the dish that was already flying to her face.

“NO!” Jason cried out trying to snatch the decoration, getting tangled in it.

“NO!” Tim shrieked as the candled set the tablecloth on fire, that quickly spread to the leg of his trousers. And as the stimuli activated already downloaded plan in his brain, he reached for the extinguisher, profusely spraying everything (and everyone) with white powder.

Disaster.

Y/N, Dick, Jason and Tim were now all on the floor. Dirty, injured and/or humiliated, turned into giant, living, walking snowmen all on Bruce and Damian’s eyes.

“Not again….” Bruce whined.

“Happy birthday Damian!”

“SHUT UP GRAYSON!” the rest of three organizers yelled getting off the floor feeling worse than ever.

“What is all this?” Damian asked with a slight frown. “Or rather… what was all of this.”

“This is your—” Dick started

“AHHHHH!”

“Y/N, we know you are frustrated but please try to calm down—”

“This was supposed to be your stupid birthday party you idiot!” she yelled stumping towards Damian “Hear me?” he poke a finger into his chest. “Your. Stupid. Birthday. Party.”

“My- my what?” Damian stuttered grabbing her wrist only now realizing what day it was. Honestly after the morning break up with Y/N he couldn’t care less about the clock or calendar.

“Your—”

“Wait, wait. Hold back. Is this why you were acting so suspicious?”

“sus-suspicious? Is that what you thought?” her eyes grew wide once more and the steam to hit him blew off instantly

“You were just planning and preparing a party?” Damian asked realizing how much of an idiot he was.

“Yes”!

“So you didn’t stop loving me?” the hint of hope showed up in his eyes

“So you did not stop loving me?” Y/N repeated.

“How could I ever—”

She never gave him a chance to finish that sentence pressing her lips to his, not caring who was watching. And if anyone dared to tease, Damian’s katana would be used for something. And the knowledge of locations of nerve plexuses in the human body.

“Um….” Tim muttered feeling a little awkward in the situation. “Should we--?”

“Mhm. We should.” Dick agreed and noiselessly, like silently as befits a vigilante they fled the room.

***

Meanwhile, Damian and Y/n were sitting on the window sill amongst the mess of a b-day party.

“I’m sorry it didn’t work out the way I planned—” she sighed.

“You kidding? It was the best thing ever.”

“Because you got the gift in clearing the misunderstanding between us?” she smiled and interlaced their fingers.

“no! because of watching my brothers making fools out of themselves.”

“Damian!” she patted his head.

“OUCH! Ok, fine! Fine! It was because I got you back!”

“This was forced, such confession doesn’t count!” she feigned offence.

“Well technically, we never really broke up, so I couldn’t get you back.”

“Well, technically-“ she tried to find a smart way of the situation, but he cut her off.

“Well, non-technically, you got cake in your hair. And on your face And in your lips. And I haven’t even tried that treat. So how about we stop talking so I could get a chance at it?”

He liked the cake.

A lot.

@keidylovestacos @nocturnal-onlooker - I'm taking the liberty of tagging you guys :)

#damian wayne x reader #damian wayne x you #damian wayne x y/n #damian wayne x female reader #robin x reader #robin x y/n

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dandelions-143 · 3 days

Text

Do It For Me

Part of the Bad Boy series

Pairing: non idol/rich bad boy Bang Chan x bratty/bitch fem!reader

Warnings: little bit of a daddy kink, face fucking, bit of stripping, dirty talk, dominant Chan, established situationship, a bit of edging, a little rough. MDNI, 18+ ONLY

Summary: You’re bratty, reckless, and you refuse to do what you’re told. You and Chan are always playing games with one another. Fighting only to fuck each other over, literally and figuratively. Chans tired of you coming in and always having the upper hand so he decides to teach you a little lesson for the night.

A/n: there will be more parts to this

For More visit:

Masterlist

Chans Masterlist

Chan was lounging on his couch in his father’s mansion. His parents nowhere to be found but, that’s exactly how he liked it. Jeongin sat just a bit further down the massive leather couch. He was talking it up with a pretty blond who had her hands all over him. Chan wasn’t sure where the others had wondered off to but the party he was throwing was in full swing and he had to admit.. he was kind of regretting it. He would almost rather be alone tonight.

“Hey man, thanks for inviting me.” Seungmin walked up after just arriving. He was new to their group but, he already felt like a little brother. The two greeted one another and Seungmin sat down beside Chan. “So where’s that cute thing I saw tagging along with you the other night at the old hotel?” Chan sipped on his beer and offered one to his new friend.

Seungmin glanced over at Jeongin who had forgotten all about the blond and had his attention completely on the two men. “Ah, she had to go back to University.”

The conversation shifted between different topics after that. Chan telling Seungmin of all the fun trouble they would get into now that he was hanging around with them but a smooth voice interrupted him. “Looks like you’ve not changed at all, Christopher.”

The sound of his English name made his eyes snap up in the direction that familiar voice came from. Red full lips stretched into a smooth pretty smile. Deep red nails holding a beer. His eyes traveled down to the black corset you wore, hugging every curve, pushing those breasts up, leaving nothing to the imagination.

Tattoos snaked over youre fingers and wound around your right arm up to your slender shoulder. You were sex on legs. How could something so evil look like such an angel. “What the fuck are you doing here, Y/n?” He stood up to face you and it only made your smile slowly fall into a little smirk.

You two hadn’t seen one another in over two years. You and Chan always at each others throats in every way. Every time you saw one another you fell back into that sexual relationship that is until he fell first and fell hard.. you did too but, he never had to know that. You weren’t the type to be held down, to be told what to do. You were always restless chasing that next high.

“I came back to see my favorite men. Have you seen Hyunjin by any chance? I have something I need to tell him.” You looked around the room then settled your sharp eyes on Chan once again. “Or did he wise up and finally drop your insufferable ass.” That made Chan snort and fane a little laugh, “you’re hilarious. I saw him go towards the pool with some of the others.”

Seungmin looked over at you, his eyes wide and lips parted. You hummed softly at Chans words, those cute little puppy dog eyes of Seungmin catching your attention for a moment. “And who is this? Fresh meat I see.” You leaned down into Seungmins personal space and whispered, “close your mouth love, you’re drooling.” Seungmin closed his mouth quickly and cleared his throat, a bit embarrassed.

“Can you run along, go find some poor unfortunate soul to torture.” Chan walked around the couch to where you stood making it seem as if he wanted you gone. What you didn’t know is every time he was in a room with you all he wanted to do was grab you, take you somewhere private and fuck you senseless.

You took a step closer to him, he was at least a head taller than you, “fucking make me.” You watched him closely, a muscle ticked in his jaw and you knew instantly that you had already gotten under his skin. You raised your brows in a silent provocation. Chan rolled his eyes more at himself before he wrapped his arms around you and lifted you over his shoulder.

You gasped as your drink fell to the floor, “put me the fuck down! What are you? Some god damn barbarian!” You yelled as you kicked your legs and beat your hands against his broad back. Chan said nothing as he slapped your ass and carried up the stairs towards his bedroom.

Everyone within ear shot heard you calling him every dirty name you could think of, most just laughed or looked on in amusement. “Did I just see Y/n?” Hyunjin seemed to have come from the back of the house where the pool was, he was shirtless and partially wet. “Umm yeah” Seungmin pointed towards the stairs. “Chan just took her up there.”

Hyunjin shook his head and looked over at Jeongin who already had a knowing smile on his lips. “Here we fuckin go again.”

——————————————————————————————————

Up stairs in Chans room he all but threw you on his large bed and when you began to curse at him even more he slammed his bedroom door, “shut the fuck up.” He said harshly. It only made you falter just a bit before you began to get up off the bed so you could yell at him some more.

Chan grabbed you by your jaw, squishing your cheeks a bit so that your red lips poked out like a cute fish. “I said hush.” His tone was darker and his face was mere inches from yours. You shut your mouth then. After a few silent moments he slowly let you go allowing you to get off the bed completely.

“How dare you put your hands on me like that.” You spoke much quieter now as you tugged at your clothes, trying to fix them. Chan was watching you with those dark brown eyes. His gaze made you shiver but you felt unbearably hot. “You’re such a fucking prick. No wonder we never worked out. You can’t handle someone like me anyway.”

You couldn’t help but spit a little venom at him. You hated the way he made you feel. You wanted him always.. even when he was a million miles away from you. Chan was always on your mind.

“I think it’s time I taught you a lesson.” His voice sounded a bit huskier this time. His words made you look up at him with a questionable cock of your head. “What did you just say?”

Chan walked over to you and began to circle around you. He grabbed your hands and pulled them behind your back tugging you into him. “You’re going to do what I say and you’re going to fucking like it. I hate that bratty attitude of yours. I’m teaching you a lesson.”

With no hesitation he yanked at the strings of your corset loosening it instantly. You gasped partly in shock and partly because this man just made you incredibly wet by really doing nothing at all.

Even though you were turned on you were not going to let Chan win. It just wasn’t in your nature. “And if I don’t listen to you, what are you going to do to me? Ground me? Take a way my phone?” You mocked him a little as you held your loose corset up around your chest. “You’re not my father.”

Chans dark brown eyes seemed to get darker and before you could even protest he grabbed you up, sat on the bed, bringing you down to lay over his lap on your stomach and he yanked your pants down along with your panties. This grown man began to spank you, hitting your bare ass with quick hard open palm taps.

At first you struggled, squealing and trying to get up from his lap, “aren’t you suppose to ask for consent or something before you start doing shit like this!” You spoke over him, doing your best to cover up the fact that you actually liked the way he was hitting you but, Chan didn’t need to know that.

This seemed to annoy him to know end so he effortlessly moved you to the bed, leaning over you, pinning you down with his own weight. His strong hand wrapped delicately around your throat. “Shhh, now. Daddy is speaking. And we are far past consent, baby.” His eyes bore into yours and the tip of his nose rubbed against yours as he spoke.

That shut you up fast. He took the opportunity to continue. “You’re going to do as I say tonight. If you disobey, you get punished.” There was a small pause and he asked, his lips brushing against yours as he shifted his hips between your thighs. Pressing his erection into your warm panty clad mound. “Are you alright with that? If not I’ll leave right now.”

You slowly mumbled a soft “yes.” Against his full lips. A smirk fell over his lips and he got up, you almost whimpered at the loss of body heat and the weight of him. “Get up.” He commanded and you did as he asked. You still held onto your corset but your pants hung around your upper thighs.

Chan stood back and let his eyes dip low to your exposed body then back up to your face. “Strip for me. Although I recall how beautiful your body is..” he trailed a finger across your lower stomach, just above your panties. “Those memories don’t serve you justice at all.”

The light touch of his warm fingers on your smooth skin made bumps rise all over your body. You shivered ever so slightly, the hair on your body standing on end and the wetness between your legs growing even more slick. You two had been intimate so many times before. It was a game you two always played and no matter how much you tried to go your own way.. you always got sucked back in.

You decided to do as he said but you wanted to make a show of it. So you moved closer to him, sauntering around his muscular frame, dropping each piece of clothing until all you had on were your black heels. “Is daddy pleased?” You asked in a mocking tone as you came to a stop directly in front of him.

Chans eyes washed over you so slowly. He was taking his time admiring you and deep down you absolutely loved having his full attention. However your face told another story, you simply looked bored.. maybe even a little annoyed. When Chans eyes flitted up to meet yours his appreciative expression changed into a deep furrow of his brow.

He obviously didn’t like the sour look on your face. “Get on the bed. Lay on your back and be a good girl, spread those pretty thighs for me.” His voice huskier than ever, dripping with dominance. He wasn’t asking you, he was commanding you.

Your eyes never left his as you surprisingly did as you were told. You lay on your back, your hands trailing over your breasts and down the middle of your soft stomach to the very slick mound between your thighs. His eyes followed the movements of your hands and you could see the outline of his hard cock in his pants.

“You like what you see?” You asked softly as your fingers slipped between your folds, moving slow circles over your swollen clit. Your lips parted in a gentle moan at the sensation, imagining his fingers.. his lips where your fingers were. Chans eyes looked heavy with need and his lips mimicked yours in parting when he heard you moan.

Just as you slipped one finger inside yourself he stepped over to you, kneeling on the bed. Chan moved your hands away, pulled your legs up and smack your ass rather hard. “I never said you could touch yourself. You’re terrible at following directions. Since you can’t seem to be a good girl, I’m going to have to punish you.” He looked at your wide eyes, “just a little. Don’t worry, baby girl.”

Chans smirk was dark and mischievous. His dimples made him look boyish but, he was far from a boy. You watched as Chan put your hands above your head, crossing them at the wrists. “Don’t fucking move.” He commanded before getting off the bed. He began to undress, his tattooed body looked as good as it always had. You could tell he had a few new tattoos and all you wanted was to trace them with the tip of your tongue.

“What the hell? You really think I’m going to let some man tell me what I can and can’t do in the bedroom?! You’ve lost your mi-“ before you could even finish Chan, still in his boxers crawled over you and put his hand over your mouth. He made a tsk sound like he was very disappointed in you.

“Y/n..” he began, his face hovering over yours as he settled his hips between your thighs. “You are making this very difficult. Fun but, difficult.” His hips were making agonizingly slow circles against you. Pushing and rubbing his rigid length that was still trapped beneath his boxers against your soaked cunt.

He kept his hand over your mouth a bit longer as his movements grew a bit more rough and fast. You were now whimpering against his palm, saliva and red lipstick smearing over your lips and his skin as you tried to be as vocal as you wanted. “That feels good doesn’t it, baby. You’re so fucking wet for me. My boxers are soaked through.”

He spoke in such a gentle tone that didn’t match his actions at all. He felt so good against you, if he kept up that friction between you two.. you would surely cum all over him.

Chans hard chest was pressed against yours, he would never admit it but, he loved how soft you were, how fucking good you felt against him. You brought your hands up to grip onto his shoulders but he moved them off with his free hand. “No touching unless I tell you to.”

His deep brown eyes bore into yours, Chan kept his movements up as he moved his hand from your lips. “Now, tell me how much you want my cock. Tell me how you want it.” He demanded as his hips bucked into yours, his now free hands gripping your breast and pinching at the taught little nipples. You gasped at the pain but made no move to stop him.

You watched as his hard muscles moved beneath his pale skin. He was beautiful, like a Greek god chiseled from Granite. You were aching to touch him but you knew he wouldn’t like that.

“I want your face between my thighs. I-“ you hesitated at first. He was staring at you even as he leaned down to lick and suck at your nipples. “Fuck…” you breathed out. “I want to ride your face, that nose..” you bit your bottom lip at the memories of the things he could do with those big lips of his.

You reached out and ran your hands over his contracting abs, feeling the muscle move there. You couldn’t help yourself any longer. The friction he was creating between you two was making you crazy, you arched your back on the brink of your first orgasm. “More.. faster please!” You whimpered to Chan as your hips moved to meet his.

Your orgasm was… right… there.. so…close….

But then he simply stopped. Chan got off the bed, leaving you soaking wet and throbbing for him. He pulled his boxers down, his large cock springing out. Muscular, veiny, and so hard and throbbing his tip was red. You instantly put your fingers to work, you needed the release. If he wasn’t going to get you off then you would do it yourself.

“No.” Chan said the word as he moved to you. He grabbed your wrists and pulled you up only to make you lay back down but your head hung slightly off the end of the bed. “What are you..” you asked but Chan stepped closer, your head between his thighs and he rested the tip of his leaking cock on your lips.

You felt and tasted his salty pre-cum being smeared on your lips. “Open up baby girl. Do a good job and I might reward you.”

You didn’t hesitate, you opened wide for him allowing him to slide his cock between your lips. The remnance of your deep red lipstick transferring onto his length. Chan let out a heavy sigh as he fit what he could of himself in your wet little mouth. “Fuuck y/n” he mumbled as he looked down at you, his hands gripping at your breasts again.

He moved his hips slowly at first, he couldn’t quite fit his entire cock in your mouth but he was going to try. Chan began to fuck your mouth a bit faster, he watched as the outline of his cock was being pushed down your throat.

He pulled himself all the way out then fully thrust back into your mouth. Properly fucking your face. Chan was not holding back this time. His moans were loud and needy. Whimpering and groaning between filthy words of how good you looked taking his cock this way.

“That’s it baby, you’re so fucking good for me.” He thrust so hard you gagged roughly around his cock making him moan your name loudly. The room was filled with his panting and needy whimpering for you. “Take it baby.. you do it so good for me.”

You were completely fucked out, spit all over your lips and cheeks, tears streaming from your eyes and he had yet to touch your pussy. You were almost feral at this point. If he didn’t have his cock deep down your throat you would be crying for him to make you cum.

Chans stomach was rigid as his abs hardened and his thighs began to tremble just a bit. He was close. “Fucking take it… oh god.” He moaned one last time before you felt hot liquid shooting down your throat. He pulled out of your mouth and streams of hot cum coated your face.

You had to admit he looked so sexy right now, with his face flushed and sweaty. His eyelids heavy and his face almost looked as if he was in pain but you knew he was feeling nothing but blissful pleasure. When he was finished he stepped back a little and looked at your flushed body. Your face coated in nothing but him.

“You’re so beautiful like this.” He moved a piece of hair from your forehead before grabbing his shirt and began to clean off your face for you.

You expected him to burry his face in your weeping pussy after he was done but the bastard pulled on his pants, forgetting about his boxers. He leaned down kissing you so passionately it left you breathless and whispered, “You fucking left me two years ago.. now it’s my turn sweetheart.” and then he walked towards the door with no look back.. Chan left you completely alone, slamming the door closed behind him.

You sat up completely shocked. This was not the man you knew.. Chan never used you to just get off.. he never left you..

You sat on that bed fuming. You were so mad you weren’t sure if you could even finish but, your pussy was throbbing and your mind was still full of naked Chan fucking your mouth shamelessly.

No matter how pissed off you were you slipped your hands between your thighs to finish what Chan had started.. your thoughts consumed by nothing but him.

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gay-dorito-dust · 6 hours

Note

Heyyy

I’m not sure if you’re still taking requests (ignore if not!)

The bat boys finding the reader sitting on the roof after a nightmare….comfort??fluff???

I was half asleep when I write this lol so naturally it’s not going to be a good one.

Jason

‘I had a feeling you’d be up here.’ He said the moment he saw you by yourself on the rooftop, blanket draped over your shoulders, as you looked over the rest of Gotham city.

‘How?’ You asked as you watched him sit himself down next to you.

‘I usually come up here myself when the dreams…became a little too real for my liking.’ Jason tells you and you didn’t need to ask him to elaborate on what he meant by that as the answer was written clear across his face, he too needed a change of scenery and fresh air to clear his mind after waking from a nightmare.

‘Well I’m fine.’ You try telling him, only to hear him scoff.

‘You wouldn’t be out here if you were fine sweetheart, I know that you can barely close your eyes right now without being reminded of why you came up here in the first place.’ He says as he looks at you knowingly. ‘Am I right?’

You sighed defeatedly as you leaned your tired and exhausted self into his side as Jason responded by draping a comforting arm over you as to keep you pressed against him. ‘Yeah, your right, your always right jay birdie but I didn’t know what else to do.’ You admitted, scared to bring yourself to even close your eyes for a single second without being reminded of what you were trying to escape in the first place. It hurt to much to revisit and if you could you would give up sleeping forever, especially if it meant never having to be scared of where your mind might take you ever again.

‘Hey it’s okay,’ Jason shushes you, tightening his hold on you. ‘it’s okay sweetheart, there’s no need to apologies I’m right here okay, nothings going to get you when I’m here with you.’ He then whispered against you as he presses kisses into your head, wishing he could do more to comfort you, but had to settle for what he could do for you in this moment of time. ‘I’m not going anywhere you hear me? I’m staying by your side and we’re going to get through this together because you’ve been strong for too long.’

You melted further into his side as his words soothed your mind and brought about more favourable memories of yourself and Jason, sweet, tender memories of reading together as you cuddled up on the couch, watching rubbish films as you had take out and amongst many more that left you thinking of nothing but him.

Dick

‘Babe? You had me worried when I couldn’t find you in bed, what are you doing out here?’ Dick asks when he lets out a sigh of relief upon seeing you on the roof of your shared home, looking out into the city of bright lights.

‘Nightmare.’ Was all you said, too tired to bring yourself to speak more than you’d like as you brought your hands under your armpits as to keep yourself warm, blinking bleary.

‘Oh honey.’ Dick cooed as he brought himself to hug you from behind, resting his head on your shoulder. Is there anything I can do to help? Water, a snack from the kitchen? Anything you want I’ll get it for you baby, all you’ve got to do is ask.’ Just when you thought Dick was going to pull away from you, you immediately latched onto him and buried your head into his neck.

‘Stay, please.’ You pleaded with him as you tightened your grip on his waist. ‘I don’t want to be alone right now.’

Dick helps you closer to him as he began to rub your up and down back comfortingly. ‘I’m wouldn’t dream of leaving you alone, not now not ever.’ He said softly. ‘I love you too much and I hate seeing you in pain and not being able to do something about it, I’d do anything to stop you from having nightmares, so focus on my voice until you feel comfortable enough to fall back asleep okay?’ He instructs you as he kept your head cradled against his chest so that all you could hear was his heartbeat.

‘Okay.’ You hummed as you nuzzled closer to dick, allowing yourself to drink him and leech off of his warmth and distinct smell that only further helped you into getting into relaxed state to begin falling asleep against him, fully content in knowing that he wasn’t going to go anywhere anytime soon.

‘Now how about I tell you about the many times me and Jason got into trouble while we were younger, it all began with a fake moustache.’ Dick then began to tell you a story of how him and Jason would often dare each other to do the most stupidest thing they could think of. It was both stupid as it was hilarious as your nightmare was long forgotten as it was replaced with the stories that Dick filled your head with, leaving you with a content smile upon your face.

Damian

‘It’s not safe to be up here alone.’ You heard Damian’s voice scold you.

‘There’s not that many safe places to go for a breath of fresh air in Gotham, so I wasn’t exactly spoilt for choice.’ You replied as you looked to see him stood behind you almost imposingly.

‘True but you could’ve at least told me that you were experiencing a nightmare.’ Damian said as he stepped next to you, looking down at your unsteady hands before quickly grabbing ahold of it within his own and clumsily intertwining his fingers with your own, comforting someone wasn’t his strong suit but at least he was aware of what simple gestures gave you some peace of mind during times of uncertainty.

‘I hate how easily you can read me sometimes.’ You chuckled humourlessly but found yourself squeezing his hand, finding that your nerves had calmed down a little bit then before. Damian had that effect on you as he often acted as your stability during times of uncertainty and or anxiety, so much that you couldn’t thank him enough for being here with you as often as he had.

‘No you don’t,’ Damian stated self assured, overlooking the city before looking at you with a slightly softer expression, ‘you’re aware that comforting others is not something I’m use to but you still allow me to try and console you during times of uncertainty, and for that I now know that my place is to be forever by your side and easing your fears like a partner should.’ He adds, squeezing your hand softly.

You smiled as you leaned your head on his shoulder, looking at nothing in particular. ‘You don’t have to do much other than give me your company.’ You tell him truthfully, you could stand out for the entity of the night if Damian was going to keep you from feeling less alone with your thoughts.

Damian smiled softly to himself. ‘Is that all? Just my company is enough?’

‘Since you’re asking, do you think that you could just hold me? Just for a little while?’ You asked, looking over at him as he silently thought it over before answering, ‘if that is what will help you ease back into sleeping, then I shall hold you for as long as you require my reassure.’ Before then gently tugging you closer to him by your joined hands, his bodily warmth warming you almost instantly as you cuddled into his side, feeling your head clear of all the fear that clung to you regarding of falling asleep again as Damian held you protectively against his chest.

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quinnylouhughesx43 · 1 day

Text

𝘽𝙖𝙡𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙊𝙪𝙩 · 𝙟𝙝86

summary: Trevor isn’t a fan of how Jack’s changed for his girlfriend.

warnings: use of y/n, kind of angsty, more fluffy, trevor being kind of a bitter friend,

word count: 1.1k

authors note: i really liked the request prompt but i struggled to write it. to the anon who requested it i hope it doesn’t let you down 🥺

Y/n’s laughter echoed through the restaurant, a melody that seemed to seep deep into Jack's soul. He couldn't help but smile as he watched her throw her head back, revealing the small, delicate spot on her neck where he knew her pulse would be racing. He knew if he placed his lips to it just how the noise she would make would sound. Her hair, usually pulled back into a tidy bun, had come loose and now framed her face in a halo of curls. It may have been two years since they started dating, but Jack still found himself completely and utterly captivated by her.

As they finished their dinner, Trevor nudged Jack and motioned for him to follow him to the bathroom. "Look," Trevor whispered, "I know you love her and all, but she's holding you back, man. You need to live a little, go out with all of us, have some fun." Jack sighed, feeling torn. He knew that Trevor was his best friend, but he also knew how important y/n was to him. He didn't want to lose her, no he couldn’t lose her, but he didn't want to miss out on all the adventures he could still be having with his friends.

"Why don't you come out with us anymore?" Trevor asked bluntly. "You used to be the life of the party. Now you're just...different." Jack hung his head, unsure how to respond. "I just want you to be happy, man. I really think you're making a mistake by staying with her." Trevor opened the bathroom door and walked back towards the tables. It was purely happen chance he was even here and Jack was too. Trevor on a date while Jack was on one too.

The two boys returned to their respective tables, Jack couldn't shake the uneasy feeling in tightly churning in his gut. Trevor was on to something; he did miss going out with all their friends and having their crazy adventures. But y/n was everything to him. She made him feel loved in ways he had never experienced and supported him in everything he did. It may have only been two years, but Jack couldn't imagine his life without her now. He knew he couldn't continue like this, though. Something had to give.

That night after dinner, as the two walked hand in hand through the park, Jack managed to gather up the courage to confront his new worries with y/n. "Hey, there's something I want to talk to you about," he said, his voice barely registering over the children still playing on the playground. Y/n stopped and turned to face him, her eyes instantly filled with concern. "What's wrong, Jack?"

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I love you, y/n. I love you so much. You know that. But I feel like I'm missing out on a lot with my friends. I want to be able to spend time with them like I used to." He looked down at his girlfriend who drew in and chewed on her lower lip, clearly being hurt by his words.

"Jackie, I thought we had talked about this.. I thought you trusted me enough to know that I would never stand in the way of your friendships?. If anything, I want you to have them in your life more. You are my life, today, tomorrow, hopefully next week and further, but I want you to have a life outside of me too. I love you more than you probably think I do, but that doesn’t mean we always have to be together.” Y/n told the sweet boy standing before her. He was awestruck while she was speaking.

He looked at her, his eyes searching hers for any hint of deception. An action he instantly felt guilty for. He should’ve never let his friends inside his head. Seeing nothing but sincerity, he exhaled slowly.

"I guess I just... I just need to find a balance, huh?" She nodded, wrapping her arms around him. "I'll always be here for you, jackie. And I want you to know that I understand. We'll figure this out together."

The next weekend, Jack and y/n arranged a "double date night" with Trevor and his newest girl. The four of them went to one of the local art galleries, something y/n loved to do, afterwards they went to a cozy Italian restaurant for dinner.

As they walked side by side, Jack was overcome with a sense of excitement and anticipation. Both had been building within him since the plans were made. For the first time since meeting y/n, he felt like he was truly experiencing something elating again.

The entirety of the night was filled with wholesome laughter and conversations about everything and anything, as both couples shared stories and experiences, and found common ground in their shared love for art and food. Y/n and Trevor even managed to strike up a conversation about their favorite artists and sport teams, which surprised Jack and made him smile. He had never really thought of his best friend and y/n having much in common, but it seemed like tonight was proving him wrong.

“Seems you picked a good one Rowdy.” Trevor snickered referring to y/n. “I’m glad you changed your mind about her Zegras. But I didn’t just pick a good one, I picked the best one. At least for me.” Jack was smitten with her and Trevor fake gagged. Earning himself a laugh from all of them.

While they finished their meals and sipped on their respective drinks, the atmosphere in the restaurant shifted ever so slightly. The lights were dimmed, and a soft, romantic medley filled the room. Jack caught y/n glancing at him out of the corner of her eye, an expanse flush of warmth spread through his chest.

In that moment, Jack realized that this was exactly what he needed: a balance between his relationship with her and his friendship. He didn't have to choose between them anymore.

As the music continued, Trevor and his date excused themselves to the dance floor, leaving Jack and y/n with a moment to themselves. She smiled up at him, her eyes sparkling practically screaming out her love for him and Jack himself was flooded with a rush of his affection for her.

He leaned down, gently brushing his lips against hers, whispering a quick intimate “i love you”. He placed another kiss on her lips, meant to be soft and innocent but as their kiss deepened, the warm, content feeling of love and happiness spread throughout both of them.

The rest of the night flew by in a blur of conversation, laughter, and dancing. They all truly seemed to enjoy each other's company, and Jack couldn't help but feel grateful for this unexpected gift. As the night drew to a close, they agreed to get together again in the coming weeks. Trevor and Jack said their goodbyes before everyone went their separate ways.

“Y/n?” Jack called out softly from beside her. She glanced up at him, as if to ask him ‘what?’ “Thank you for tonight. I really appreciate what you’ve done for me. For us.” She squeezed his hand and smiled up at him. “I love you, I don’t know how I got so lucky to have you but I hope I keep staying lucky.” Jack brought her hand up to his lips placing a quick kiss to the top of it.

#trevor zegras #jack hughes #jack hughes fic #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes fluff #jack hughes x y/n #jack hughes x you #nj devils fics #nj devils fluff #cay writes #requests📝#nhl writing #writblr #hockey fics #platonic!trevor zegras #nhl #hockey fic

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munsonsmixtapes · 2 days

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Say Don't Go

Evan "Buck" Buckley x fem!reader

summary: tensions rise between you and Buck as you find out that he works for you uncle and he learns you're Bobby's niece, forcing the two of you to make a decision on where your relationship stands

word count: 3k

part one

Buck could not believe it. The first woman he was attracted to in months was Bobby’s niece? He really was always getting dealt a shit hand. He was going to ask you out on an official date and bring you flowers and shower you with compliments and make stupid jokes to make the both of you less nervous. He supposed now that it was only a pipe dream. And all because you were related to his boss.

“Bobby, I didn’t know you had a niece,” Buck spoke up, trying to seem nonchalant, as if he didn’t feel like he was going to throw up. And he did, the idea of running to the restroom sounding real inviting.

“She’s my sister’s kid,” Bobby replied, pulling you into his side in a protective manner then pointed at the man. “Don’t get any ideas, Buck,” he said with a wink, but the threat seemed very serious. Too bad the ship had already sailed and was on the verge of sinking.

You eyed Buck and shook your head as if to tell him to not come any closer. You wanted to speak to him about the whole situation, but you couldn’t without everyone noticing that the two of you had disappeared and jumped to their own conclusions. You were going to have to meet on your own time to avoid suspicions. Especially Bobby’s.

The man had become very protective of you since the day you were born and would continue to do so until he took his last breath. Since your father was never in the picture, he felt the need to step up and be exactly what you needed. He was there for everything: your first steps, helping you ride a bike without training wheels, your first date. Yes, he sat in the back row of the movie theater, watching the two of you like a hawk, making sure the kid didn’t try anything.

Bobby would not have been happy if he found out that Buck had even looked at you in a flirty manner let alone slept with you. It wasn’t that he didn’t think that Buck wasn’t fit to be your boyfriend, but more like any man wasn’t fit for the role.

You eyed Buck practically the entire time but tried not to draw attention to yourself as you did it. Tension was rising and you really hoped that no one else could see it. Especially since you were the guest of honor and couldn’t fade into the background like you desperately wanted to.

“Everyone,” Bobby stood behind you, resting his hands on your shoulders. “This is my niece, y/n. And I expect you all to welcome her as an honorary member of the 118. She’s going to be here for a while. Y/n, this is Hen and her wife Karen,” he pointed to the Black woman who was standing next to Buck. She gave you a hug and you were quick to return it. “And Buck and his sister, Maddie.” You looked at Buck and didn’t miss the look on his face as your eyes glanced at him to look at his sister. His face was white. Almost as if he had seen a ghost. You ignored it for the moment and tried your best to listen to Bobby’s introductions of his team. “And that’s Chimney,” Bobby gestured to the Asian man who was on Buck’s other side. Oh, you so had to hear the backstory about that nickname. “And Eddie and his son, Christopher.” You turned your attention to one of the most beautiful men you had ever seen and a young boy who was using crutches.

Hugs were all passed around as you were introduced and you all mingled as you sipped on your drinks, waiting for dinner to be ready. You got into a conversation with Maddie about nursing, but you couldn’t help but let your eyes wander to her brother who had been in what looked a deep conversation with Eddie. You couldn’t help but feel like word about your night together was somehow going to get to your uncle and you didn’t even know why you cared so much. You were an adult now and really had no reason to hide to from Bobby. Maybe he’d be a little upset at first, but he’d come around.

“So, that’s the girl you hooked up with the other night?” Eddie asked, holding back a laugh. It was just too good, almost like the plot of a telanovela he’d watched with Christopher. Of course something like that would have happened to Buck. That sounded exactly like something that would have happened to him.

“Yes,” Buck nodded.

“And she’s Bobby’s niece?” All Buck could do was glare at Eddie. It was almost as if he wasn't listening at all. And for once, this was a very serious matter. His life was doomed as he knew it and Eddie was just laughing it off as if it was all just a big joke. And Buck supposed that maybe it was.

“Yes. Weren’t you listening?” He was now on edge, for whatever reason, feeling paranoid that Bobby had been listening even though the man was all the way across the room joking around with Michael.

“Hey, relax," Eddie pat his friend's shoulder. Sometimes Buck just really needed to relax. "I’m just making sure I’m getting the facts right. I can't believe that out of all of the people in Los Angeles that you slept with Bobby's niece. Oh, Chim is gonna get a kick out of this."

Eddie burst into laughter, really getting a kick out of his friend's pain, but he couldn't help it. It was all just too funny to not laugh a little at the unfortunate events of his friend's life. He was just happy that he wasn't in Buck's shoes.

“But you're not gonna tell Chim," he gave Eddie a warning look. "This secret dies with us. And I swear if you tell Bobby-" Both of the men knew that whatever threat came out of Buck's mouth would be empty, but Eddie wanted to know what would have been in store for him if he had broken his promise.

“You’ll do what, Buck?” He crossed his arms over his chest, tilting his head to the side in curiosity.

“I don’t know, but It’ll be bad.”

“Sure, whatever you say, buddy." Eddie gave his shoulder a pat as Bobby had everyone gather around before they all sat down to eat.

“Alright, everyone dinner is served and before we sit, I’d to make a toast,” Bobby spoke up and you could see his eyes getting misty already. “The moment I held you after you were born, I knew that you’d be destined for greatness,” he started and you knew that his speech was going to be a tear jerker just like always.

“I remember when you were three and insisted on fixing my “wounds” with your little doctor’s kit that I had gotten you for Christmas. You told me that you were going to be a nurse and save lives and look at you now. You graduated nursing school and got a job at your first choice hospital. I’m so proud of you, kiddo. So, if everyone would raise their glasses.” Everyone did as they asked as Bobby raised his own that was filled with soda. “To y/n,” he said.

“To y/n,” everyone repeated and they all clinked their glasses together before cheering, giving you a round of applause. After the excitement died down, everyone sat down at the table, the only spot available being the one to the left of you that Buck was reluctant to occupy.

“Oh-“ he said, cutting himself off and everyone was quick to turn to him. To them, it was just the only available seat. To you and Buck, though, it was more than that. If he sat next to you, the awkward tension would only rise and Buck really didn’t want to make it all about him when this was your party.

“You can sit there, Buck,” Bobby told him. “Y/n doesn’t bite.” Buck’s mind immediately flashed to a couple of nights ago when you had done just that. When you had actually bitten him and been the cause of the healing hickey on his neck.

“Yeah, Buck,” youpulled the chair out for him to take a seat. “I don’t bite,” you winked, a joke just between the two of you. Buck hesitantly sat next to you, being very obvious unlike you. He might as well have just told the entire table that the two of you had slept together while he was at it.

“So, y/n,” Hen spoke up. “What’s your position at the hospital?”

“Labor and delivery,” you told her. You always loved the idea of bringing new life into the world and after doing a few residencies and following nurses around who did just that, you knew that was the career for you.

“That’s so admirable,” Hen smiled warmly. Just from what Bobby had told her about you, she was sure that you were going to do really well in the medical field. That you were a hard worker and never took no for an answer. “I’m sure you’re going to do great.”

“Well, thank you. And thank you, Robert, for this amazing celebration,” you gestured to the all of the nurse themed decorations all over the main level of the house and even out on the patio where you were all sitting.

“That was actually all Athena,” Bobby corrected, feeling like he should’ve let his wife take the credit for all the hard work she put in to make the house look nice.

“Well, thank you, Athena,” you turned to the woman she nodded enthusiastically, wanting you to know just how much she enjoyed planning the entire thing for you, knowing that it meant a lot to Bobby because of how close he was to you.

“Of course,” she replied. “It was my absolute pleasure.”

You looked around at everyone sitting at the table and despite not knowing most of them, you felt but nothing but loved sitting at that table, discussing everything and nothing as you all ate the meal that Bobby prepared for you all. You had felt alone your entire life, only having Scarlett, your mom, and Bobby as your family and now all of the people he had been closest to were welcoming you into their world with open arms, and you couldn’t help but feel more lucky.

You hesitantly turned to Buck and noticing him picking around his plate, the dish almost full signifying that he hadn’t really eaten anything. And you didn’t blame him. You hadn’t much of an appetite either considering the whole situation and for a second there, you completely had forgotten about him. It seemed that neither of you had the best luck in the dating apartment, so of course, as fate would have it, you couldn’t be together. Or more like shouldn’t considering the whole situation. It would have just been weird and awkward and maybe it would have just been for the best if you just left it at a one night stand.

Dinner came to a close and by the end of it, you were all sharing funny stories from your careers and just from the one meal you had with them, you knew you were going to enjoy spending more time with them. Maybe if you asked Bobby, you all could have had more meals together like you had heard they did at the 118. You would have really enjoyed that. You were really looking forward to having a real family.

The members of the 118 all lingered at the door like usual, all hesitant to go back to their homes. All except Buck. He was getting antsy to get the hell out of there and to probably never speak to you again. He could run into a burning building without batting an eye, but when it came to his personal life, all he wanted to do was run away. He absolutely hated confrontation and was going to avoid the inevitable as long as possible.

He looked at you, watching you laugh with his sister and could easily see the three of you getting together for dinner. You'd sit next to him and his hand would reach for yours and you'd give him a warm smile as Maddie looked at the both of you, so happy that her brother had finally real, true love.

The dream quickly faded away as Buck accepted that he was going to let you slip through his fingers. The whole thing was just too complicated and he wasn't going to put you through all of that, especially since you were just getting started with your career. You already had too much on your plate and he didn't think there was enough room for him.

"Right, Buck?" Bobby asked, giving his shoulder a pat and Buck turned to the man in confusion, not even aware that he was even being spoken to.

"I'm sorry, what?" You were still swirling around in his mind even though he was trying hard to focus on what Bobby had been saying.

"You're coming in on time tomorrow, right?" He had still been teasing about him being late a couple of days ago and Buck just rolled his eyes. Now he didn't have a reason to be late anymore and he kind of hated it.

"Yes sir," Buck nodded. "Good night, Bobby."

"Good night, Buck." Bobby gave his shoulder a squeeze and Buck gave you one last look before turning on his heel to head to his jeep.

You watched Buck walk to his vehicle, wondering why he had said goodbye to everyone but you. What, so he found out that you were Bobby's niece and now he was giving you the silent treatment? How was that fair? Maybe everything that happened that night was all part of an act and now he was just showing you his true self.

So maybe that night wasn't as special to you as it was to him. You had even considered asking him out, but now you guessed you had just dogged a bullet. He was just like the other's and at least this one saved you the headache by ghosting you instead of pursuing you only to show no interest in you the entire duration the relationship. You supposed it saved you some tissues knowing who he was from the get go.

One week later

You pulled up to the fire station, feeling anger course through you as you put Scarlett's car in park. You had tried to reach out to Buck multiple times since the party only to be met by nothing but silence. Even if nothing happened between the two of you, you felt like you at least deserved an explanation. Didn't your feelings matter too? Apparently not to him.

So, you decided to show up the one place he couldn't run from so you could have a conversation with him. You weren't sure how you were going to do that with all those people around, but you'd figure things out. You always did.

You marched into the station, scanning the place for Buck and noticed that everyone was surrounding the engine, wiping it down or cleaning the interior. Eddie was the first to spot you and he pointed wordlessly to the other side of the engine, assuming that you were there for Buck.

You rounded the back of the engine and made a beeline for the man, grabbing onto his arm, pulling him somewhere more private, deciding that right by the bathrooms was really the only spot that was as out of sight as you could get. You stopped there and Buck could practically see the flames forming in your eyes because of how angry you were. Women had been mad at him more times than he could count, but never like that. If looks could kill, he definitely would have been dead.

"You're an asshole," you told him, trying your best not to yell. For once, Buck was very aware of the hurt he had caused. And now he was paying for it. With the way you were balling your fists, you looked like you were going to punch him, and for the first time, he was going to take it because he felt like he deserved it.

"Am I?" He asked, cocking his head to the side. Buck didn't know why he was being such a dick, but now he felt like he had stick with it since he had already committed to the role. He honestly wasn't expecting you to show up. The most he ever got was an angry phone call. Perhaps you showing up was a sign that you weren't willing to give up on him like everyone else.

"Yes!" Your voice was a little loud, but you couldn't have cared less. He deserved to know just how angry you were and for once, you didn't care about embarrassing him. That was the least he deserved.

"I had a really nice time with you. You made me feel special. I hadn't slept with anyone in a long time and I trusted you. I trusted you, Evan. And then you find out that Bobby's my uncle and you run? If you didn't want to see me again, the least you could have done was told me. But no, you're nothing but a coward."

Bobby stood on the other side of the wall, listening to the entire thing. He hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but he had left the restroom just as you and Buck went to block the exit and he couldn't have passed without revealing that he had heard everything and he couldn't have that. At least, not yet. Tension was already high and he didn't want to make it worse.

Bobby didn't know what was worse, hearing that you had slept with Buck, or the fact that he made you cry. So not only did the guy sleep with you, but he also completely ghosted you and hurt your feelings. That was three strikes so Buck was out. At least, for the near future. Just as you were leaving, the sirens went off, signaling that there was a call.

Buck tried to follow you, but Eddie stopped him and Buck watched you leave from over Eddie's shoulder. Eddie turned him around and pushed Buck towards the engine, but Bobby stopped him.

"I'm benching you today, Buck." Maybe it was wrong of him to bring his personal life into work, but nobody was allowed to hurt his little girl. Not even Buck. Especially not Buck.

"Why?" Buck didn't like the assumption his brain was coming to and he really didn't like being benched after being yelled at by a girl he really liked.

"I'm the captain and what I say goes. The dishes really need to be done, so could you take care of that?" With that, Bobby got into the engine and both it and the truck pulled out of the station, leaving Buck with nothing but his thoughts and a sink full of dishes that needed to be done.

#evan “buck” buckley #evan buckley x reader #evan buckley x you #evan buckey x fem!reader #evan buckley smut #evan buckley #evan buckley fluff #911 abc #911 fox #911 show

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unforgivenntired2 · 2 days

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My hero academia boys find you crying? (Angst)

Izuku Midoriya, Katsuki Bakugo, Shoto Todoroki, Kirishima Eijiro, Denki Kaminari

Izuku(Deku)

He would first start panicking trying to figure out what happened to you.

"A-Are you okay?! Oh my god do you need something?? Can I get you something??"

After the mini panic attack he just had, he's going to try to understand what the reason is. If you don't want to tell him? No problem. He'll stay and hug you hard, telling you softly to let the tears fall. That it's okay to cry. "You can talk to me about it, sweetie. I'm always here for you."

Somehow hugging him only makes you sob harder and eventually tell him what was wrong. He'll stay there the whole time, listening intently and running a hand up and down your back. He'll tell you that its fine. That everything's going to be alright. And even if it's not, he'll always be there for you even when there's no one else left.

Katsuki Bakugo

Bakugo's initial reaction might be gruff or abrasive, but underneath his tough exterior, he does care for those close to him. It's hard for him to express that he's worried.

"Oi brat. Toughen up." He might start with a more of a confident voice, but somehow seeing you cry makes his heart ache so.. so badly.

He might stand there awkwardly for a moment before grumbling, "What's got you bawling like an idiot?" But as you continue to cry, he'll soften slightly, realizing the severity of your emotions. Despite his discomfort, he'll awkwardly offer his arms to invite you to hug him, trying to offer some form of comfort. He'll scoff when you come closer and mumble. "My stupid little idiot."

He'll hold you as if you're made of glass and somehow deep inside he's scared that he'll hurt you somehow. He might not say much, but his presence alone is his way of showing that he cares.

Shoto Todoroki

To be honest, he doesn't know what to do. He just stands there awkwardly for a while until you look up at him. He would quietly approach you with his usual stone face, but behind it, it's filled with worry.

"Are you okay?" His voice would be soft, almost tentative, as he approaches you.

He'd sit beside you quietly, offering a comforting presence until you feel ready to talk. Todoroki might gently place a hand on your shoulder or offer you a tissue without saying much, allowing you the space to open up if you choose to. He won't ask you to open up about what's wrong. If you feel like telling him, you will.

And whilst you tell him, he'll listen silently and sometimes his sheer inattentiveness towards things would make you let out a small laugh. Todoroki doesn't get it but nevertheless he's happy he made you cheer up a bit.

Denki Kaminari

Denki's reaction might be a mix of confusion and concern. He's not always the best at handling serious situations, but he cares deeply for his friends.

"Hey, uh, what's wrong?" He'd approach you with a slightly awkward smile, clearly unsure of how to proceed.

Seeing you cry would likely catch him off guard, and he might fumble for words at first. "Um, h-hey, it's gonna be okay, right? You know, whatever it is, we can figure it out together."

Despite his initial uncertainty, Denki would try his best to comfort you. He might crack a few jokes or attempt to lighten the mood with his lighthearted personality, hoping to bring a smile to your face. Some of his failed attempts at it would make you giggle through the sobs.

Denki would listen attentively to whatever you have to say. He might offer words of encouragement, assuring you that he's there to support you no matter what.

Throughout the interaction, Denki's genuine concern for your well-being would shine through, even if he's not always the most eloquent or composed in expressing it. He'd stay by your side, offering comfort and companionship until you feel better.

Kirishima Eijiro

"Hey, are you okay?" His voice would be soft, but filled with genuine concern as he approaches you.

He'd sit down beside you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder or offering you a reassuring smile. Kirishima's presence alone would feel grounding, as if you're not facing whatever troubles you alone.

"Whatever it is, you can talk to me about it. I'm here for you," he'd say earnestly, his eyes reflecting his sincerity.

If you choose to confide in him, Kirishima would listen intently, nodding along and offering words of support. He'd validate your feelings, letting you know that it's okay to feel the way you do.

"You're really manly for opening up about this," he'd say, his voice filled with admiration. "But remember, you don't have to go through this alone. I'll always have your back." Kirishima would stand up and flex his muscles as if to show you his manliness making you chuckle.

"And anyways if anything happens to you, I'll always be there to save you my princess."

Throughout the conversation, Kirishima's unwavering support and positivity would be a source of comfort, helping to lift your spirits and ease your burden. He'd stay by your side, offering encouragement and solidarity until you feel better.

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cherriesformatt · 3 days

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birds of a feather || matt sturniolo

matt x fem!reader

summary: reader is having a hard time but she knows she can come back to her safe place every time

warnings: none just fluff and bit of sadness

word count: 1,3k

a/n: hope you like it kinda put my heart in it

🍒

Have you ever just thought that you are done? Like you can't deal with shit anymore and there is nothing that will give you motivation? I felt like this for a long time until I met Matt. Matt started to just be there for me. First as a friend then as a partner. We met in high school when both of us started ditching class because we didn't feel comfortable in school. We would just give each other weird glances and walk different ways until our paths met in the park. We would spent hours hanging out by the Fresh Pond. We talked and had lunch together few times a week. I was waiting for this time because I wasn't able to talk to anyone like I could talk to Matt and I knew he understood me.

I didn't realize I loved him until he came to my house to say goodbye when he and his brothers were moving to LA. I wasn't mad at him, he was chasing his dreams with two most important people for him. They were already successful on YouTube by that time so I understood they wanted more. I was proud of him but I was also dying inside. I didn't want to tell him about my feelings also knowing he broke up with his girlfriend to only focus on their career.

As it turned out not only I realized the strong feeling for one another. But it took us months to confess to each other. I was scared to move away from home but I knew I could do everything for him. So I did. I took everything I had and moved to LA. Got shitty apartment, part-time job and started attending Uni.

Here we are now. Two years in. I had a shitty job, better apartment and best boyfriend and my best friend by my side.

"Ur do wrong about it" I rolled my eyes putting pieces of legos together.

"No, I am not" He said trying to figure out how to connect pieces.

"I do not understand what in your head tells you not to use instructions" I said looking down at him. He was laying down on the blanket while I was sitting cross-legged next to him.

We were in the park near his house on a little lego date. We just came back from Boston few days ago and since that I didn't see him. I was busy with going back to work life after vacation and he as well had stuff going on. And today was a day we finally were alone. Because all of Boston trip we were with friends, his family or my family or I was alone because he had a boys trip. It has been a long time since we could just spend day together and I missed just talking to him.

"Because I know I can do it by myself" He said and I just shook my head and put my finished piece on the blanket.

"Here I am done mr.I can do it by myself" I smiled showing off my lego Pokemon.

"Oh shut up will you?" He laughed and took the instructions. Because of course I was right.

I laid down so my head would rest on his legs. I watched the sky.

"I need to quit my job" I said first time out loud what was on my mind.

'Well...I told you that already, you're not happy there and I know you could to so much better than that or just noting and stay with me?" He looked at me and started to play with my hair putting legos away.

"Matt... you know I do not want you to be my sugar daddy we already talked about this. This is not an option for me. And yes I know you told me that but.. I do not know I feel like my boss is even worst after I took my time off." I said.

"Did something happened?" He asked me clearly concerned.

"Nothing major, you know how I only usually did computer job and prepared meetings for others and for him. Well... he made me be a leader of the meeting...I had a stomach ache for the rest of the day and throw up when I got home because I was so anxious but in the same time I did it and it went well" I said and took a deep breath.

"Why you didn't say anything?" He asked me softly squeezing my hand.

"You were streaming and I didn't want to interrupt" I said.

"I would pick up the phone anyway, you know that.. And about this... he is an asshole but honey... I am so proud of you for doing that I know how hard it must have been for you. Remember my first tour show? I thought I couldn't do it. But you knew I could. And I also know you can do more than this job y/n." He said looking at me and smiled.

"You think?" I asked.

"I know. You have a brilliant ideas and all the time someone else is taking credits for them because you are to kind and you give them away for others to present. Sweets I know you could do that yourself and take all the credits. Of course few first times will be hard but then it will get better and I know you can do it...You deserve so much better than what you are doing now..." He said and I smiled.

"Thank you..." I said and I leaned to peck his lips.

"You do not have to thank me...I will always believe in you" He hugged me.

We talked more until sun was setting down and we came back brining dinner home for everyone.

"Hello! did you miss me already?" I said walking into the leaving room where Chris and Nick were doing something on their laptops.

" Not really I had my Pepsi all to myself for 4 days" Chris smiled at me and I smiled back.

"Yes we did, the only sane person in this household, hi" Nick waved at me and I smiled at him as well.

I was an only child and I was beyond happy that with Matt came two of his brothers, well three but Justin wasn't leaving with him. I felt like I had brothers my own thanks to that and I knew that they cared about me as much as I did for them.

We spend some time with them and then we went to Matt's room.

"I know you had a lot on your mind today so..." he walked to the nightstand and took out our journals.

I smiled and sat on his bed. He gave me mine and took his as well. I rested my back on the headboard and open my journal. I took one of the pens he put between us and just stared to write. I loved that we could just do this together in silence. I rested my head on his shoulder after some time.

"Matt... would you still love me if I was a worm?" I asked.

I moved away a little and sat on my knees so I could look at him.

"Yes? But you would have to forgive me if I squeeze you. You know how wiggly I am in bed when I sleep" He said deadly serious.

"You are so stupid I swear to god...." I laughed looking past him.

"Dear diary... he said he would still love me if I was a worm ❤️" I wrote and closed my journal and throw it across the bed.

He smiled at me and put his journal away as well and he pulled me so I would straddle his lap.

"Til I rot away, dead and buried...." We both said in the same time and I just laughed and kissed him resting my forehead on his.

#matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #Spotify

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mynameismckenziemae · 2 days

Text

All of Me

Part 13

(previous part here, next part here)

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x You

Summary: You and Jake get down and dirty again while showering again.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI! This chapter is 95% smut, femdom, sub!jake, edging, teasing, orgasm delay/denial, sexting, spitting, ass play, rimming, unprotected p in v, humiliation, etc.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

The video Jake sends you an hour later is downright sinful. In a cramped bathroom stall with no mirror, your view is just of his hand jerking his weeping cock.

Your face heats as his soft, breathy grunts reach your ears along with the lewd sounds of his hand stroking faster and faster.

“I’m close,” he grits out before releasing himself, “Fuck,” he groans, frustrated as his cock jerks pitifully at the loss of friction.

You type out a reply when it ends.

Reese: Good boy.

Reese: Since you edged me last night, I think it’s only fair to edge you. Two more times should do it.

Jake: But I’m still hard. Is it medically safe for me to be hard all the fucking time?

Reese: Yes. Unless it lasts longer than 4 hours.

Reese: I can treat it if that happens though

Jake: Oh yeah? 😏

Reese: You wouldn’t enjoy it.

Jake: Try me

You laugh as you type out the response.

Reese: The blood is aspirated using a needle and syringe.

Jake: Holy shit.

Jake: Well.

Jake: I’m not hard anymore.

Reese: Figured that would help lol.

Jake: Sorry, gotta go-I’m up next. I’ll see you tonight.

Reese: Can’t wait 😘

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

You really can’t wait.

Jake picks up dinner but it’s forgotten by the door when you pounce the second he walks through it.

“He-hello to you too,” he chuckles against your lips. “Wait, I didn’t shower,” he stills your hand that’s on the zipper of his fight suit.

“I don’t care,” you reply, tugging the zipper down anyway; the smell of clean sweat, fresh air, and diesel fills your nose and sends an answering wave of arousal between your thighs. “Why didn’t you shower?” You ask as you fall to your knees.

“You already-fuck,” he breathes as you pull him out of his briefs and swallow him down without preamble. “You already know.”

You shake your head with your eyes on his, mouth still full of him. “I want to hear you say it,” you release him with a pop to reply before returning to your bobbing.

“‘Cause the slightest brush of fabric on my cock is enough-oh,” he breaks off with a throaty sigh as you bring him to the back of your throat and swallow, “is enough to get me hard today.”

“Mmmm,” you hum around him, letting him fall out of your mouth to lick at his head while you bring your hands up to grip his ass. “Any other reason?”

He nods and inhales sharply when your nails sink in, guiding his hips to slowly fuck your face. “There’s…there’s still handprints on my ass.”

“Really?” You ask, one hand coming around to stroke him. “And that…embarrasses you?”

“Not exac-,” he starts, cheeks flushing bright red when you quirk a brow, “a little.”

“Why?” You tease, stroking him faster, “You don’t want the squad to know you were a bad boy?”

His head thumps against the door with a strangled whimper while he jerks in your hand.

Oh, he likes this.

“Or is it because you don’t want anyone to know that this,” the hand still on his butt squeezes his cheek tightly, making him gasp, “is mine?”

“Wait!” He chokes, reaching for your hand still working his cock. “I’m gonna cum.”

You struggle to hold back your whimper while you watch him hunch over as he fights his release.

“That’s two. Let’s eat,” you say when he relaxes, sounding way more composed than you feel as you tuck him back into his underwear. “Then we can take a shower?”

“Sure,” he sighs, grimacing as he re-zips his suit.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

The dishes are thrown into the sink to worry about later before Jake lifts you bridal style up the stairs.

“God, Reese, you make me crazy,” he grumbles against your lips as you undress each other, making you pause but then he continues, “and I fucking love it.”

A slow smile graces your lips as you turn on the shower. “C’mere,” you whisper, crooking your finger as you step back into the running water, “and I’ll show you crazy.”

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

He backs you against the cold wall, licking into your mouth a deep kiss. His hands slide down your back to grip your ass.

“Wait,” you rasp before he can lift you. “Nice try. But not yet.”

A tortured sigh leaves him as his forehead drops to yours. “Yes ma’am.”

You make him watch as you wash yourself, spending extra time between your thighs before washing him; also spending extra time between his thighs before turning him away from you, guiding his hands to the wall.

“Can I do what I was about to before we were interrupted yesterday?” You ask, pressing kisses to his back as your fingers ghost over his butt, around his hips to brush against his cock.

“Please, anything,” he murmurs, eyes half-lidded as he turns his head, “anything you want.”

“Tell me to stop any time, okay?” You remind him as you begin to kiss your way down his back.

“I will,” he replies, moaning when you suck a bruise over your handprint from yesterday.

“Mine,” you murmur before leaving another, “you’re all mine, Jake.”

“Yes,” he rasps as you press your thumb into the fresh mark, “I’m all yours.”

You hum with satisfaction as you spread him once again, before running your tongue over that tight ring of muscle, shivering at the wrecked sound that leaves his lips.

“You like this, huh?” You throw his words from last night back at him between brushes of your tongue.

You pull back and land a hard, stinging slap before spreading him wider to spit on his hole. “Can’t hear you.”

“Yes ma’am,” he cries, legs shaking as your fingers begin to circle.

“That’s more like it,” you purr as your free hand slides between your legs, finding your needy clit. “Touch yourself,” you order breathily before your tongue again joins your probing fingers.

He takes a deep, shaking breath as he pulls a hand down from the wall.

“I can’t,” he gasps when a fingertip breaches him. “Reese-fuck! I’m too close.”

“Not yet,” you repeat. You’re close too as you nip the taut, clenching muscle of his ass.

“Fuck!” He sobs, the broken sound pushing you over the edge. You moan against him and his hand reaches back blindly to take a handful of your hair before tugging you away. “Three! T-that was three!”

“That was three,” you agree with a sigh, rising on unsteady legs. Your hand shakes as you reach outside of the shower for the mouthwash placed conveniently on the counter.

Jake’s still composing himself as you gargle and spit. Or so you thought as the room suddenly spins.

Jake presses your front into the wall where he’d just been, rutting his hot, heavy length between your cheeks before guiding himself lower, as he pulls your hips toward him.

“Mine,” he groans as he pushes into you with a deep thrust, “you’re mine too.”

“Yes,” you agree with a gasp. “I’m yours, Jake.”

“All mine,” he repeats, pressing his lips to your shoulder as he fucks into you at a punishing pace, nailing your g-spot with each thrust while his fingers slide over your hip to circle your clit.

“Fuckfuckfuck. Need you to cum for me,” he rasps, biting your shoulder as his hips begin to lose their rhythm.

You cry out as your orgasm washes over you and he cums too with a low groan, filling you up as you clench around him, milking every last drop.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

You turn on a movie in the bedroom while you dry your hair but every time you glance over, Jake’s eyes are on you.

He looks like an adonis in his low-slung, Calvin Klein boxer briefs lying on your bed.

“What?” You smile as you click the dryer off to join him in.

“You’re just…stunning,” he replies with a genuine smile. Your face is free of make up and you look down at his threadbare US Navy tee that you stole before giving him a skeptical look. “You are,” he chuckles, wrapping an arm around you, “and you’re funny, so fucking smart, a great friend to Bradshaw, and an even better mom to Drew.”

Tears well in your eyes at his sweet words.

“You’ve been through hell and back but you haven’t let it harden you,” he murmurs into your hair. “I’m so glad you gave me a chance Reese. I-I’ve never felt like this about someone before.”

He continues when you don’t say anything.

“You don’t-I mean, shit. I know it’s different for you because you had Andy,” he says, “I just-“

“I know what you’re trying to say,” you interrupt softly turning your head for a kiss.

It’s true; you have felt it before. What you feel for Jake is different than from Andy; it’s not stronger nor weaker, just different.

Your heart races as you pull back from his lips to look him in the eye. “I feel it too.”

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

A/N: I need a cigarette after writing that smut 🫠 (I don’t smoke). Haha, I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did writing it.

Also…aw! They’re falling in love. 🥹 who’s gonna say it first?

As always, any interaction is appreciated but I love hearing what you think in the comments/reblogs!

Please let me know if you want to be added to (or removed from) my taglist!

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#jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin x you #jake seresin x you #sub jake seresin #sub jake hangman seresin #top gun maverick #bradley rooster bradshaw #jake hangman seresin x ofc #jake seresin x ofc #bradley bradshaw #jake hangman seresin x reader #Jake seresin x reader #hangman smut

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callsign-rogueone · 2 days

Text

liam's lesson

bf! Xaden x reader x Liam Xaden decides to give Liam a lesson in pleasing a woman, but not just any woman; you, his girlfriend, who Liam's had a crush on for years. What could possibly go wrong? words: 5.3k (now officially my longest fic ever!) 🏷: NSFW, afab reader who is referred to with she/her prns and as a "girl", established relationship with Xaden, Liam has a puppy crush on you (we love pathetic, lovesick Liam in this house!), nothing between the boys, they're both just focused on you, fucking someone other than your partner (not cheating, as everyone involved is consenting) while said partner watches, maybe you're a little bit in love with Liam (aren't we all?) Xaden is in charge here, teaching Liam how to make you cum. oral, fingering, and penetrative sex (all f recieving), unprotected sex, very brief misuse of Xaden's shadows, Xaden is the king of Tyrrendor but Liam is the king of aftercare. I think that's everything. once again, proofread with a migraine so be nice. okay byeee

Admittedly, Liam had been a little nervous when Xaden had pulled him aside at dinner and told him to come over to his room around ten to talk — what secret, urgent revolution stuff did they need to discuss? Was something wrong back home? Surely he wouldn’t have waited if that was the case.

He knocks hesitantly, and the door unlocks for him — part of Xaden’s magic that Liam still isn’t used to. A lot has changed about his older brother in the two years they’ve been apart.

He starts to ask why Xaden wanted to see him at this hour, but then he catches a flash of pale blue in his periphery, his head turning toward the other side of the room, where he sees you stretched out on Xaden’s bed in your pajamas — which don’t leave much to the imagination.

He stops mid-sentence and whirls around, averting his eyes. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize…”

“Did you forget about the little conversation we had last week?” Xaden asks, amused.

It takes Liam a minute to realize what the older boy is referring to. “You were serious?”

He catches a glimpse of the lace-clad curve of your hip in the mirror in front of him, shutting his eyes tightly and willing himself not to get hard — not over his brother’s girlfriend. That’s definitely crossing a line.

“Of course I was serious,” Xaden answers.

“And you’re… you’re okay with this?” he asks you, still not convinced he isn’t dreaming.

“You wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t,” you answer.

He still looks hesitant. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Liam nervous, but his normal confident and happy demeanor is nowhere to be seen. It hurts, somehow.

“Hey,” you soothe, sitting up straight, “if you don’t want to do this, that’s okay. We’ll never speak of it again.”

“No,” he answers, finally looking at you in the mirror, swallowing hard, “I do want to.”

It might ruin him forever, but he really does want this. He’s wanted something with you for ages, and if he can’t have the real thing — his lips on yours and his hands on your body, pleasing and worshiping you the way you deserve — he might as well watch Xaden do it instead.

“Okay, then.”

Xaden wastes no time pulling you into a deep kiss that you melt into almost instantly — so his dominance and control extends into the bedroom, too. That should have been obvious.

He pulls back after what feels like ages for Liam but mere seconds for you, and you whine softly, needing more.

“Hear that? That’s the sound you’re looking for. Those little whimpers, and the squirming. You want to get her nice and needy first.”

Liam nods, still just watching, unsure what his role will be in all of this. He tries to ignore the ache of his cock, tries not to think about it, but the sight of you in those tiny silk pajamas, if you could call them that, is impossible to look away from, and impossible not to get turned on by. He’ll definitely need to sort himself out after this is over, but at least it’ll fill the spank bank forever — he’s never going to forget this.

“Go ahead,” Xaden prods, and Liam feels like he might faint — this is a hands-on lesson? He’s supposed to touch you, not just watch?

You pat the space next to you on the bed, motioning for him to take a seat.

He kicks off his boots hastily, padding across the floor and stopping in front of you.

You uncross your legs, letting them dangle off the edge of the bed, your knees only an inch or two from his thighs now. “Hi, Li.”

Gods, the way you say his name so sweetly, shortening the four letter word into two, the way you’re gazing at him so sweetly, and the sight of you, your usual rider’s leather stripped away, with soft pastel silk in its place that covers less than half of what your uniform does... You even smell sweet, sugary and floral, a mix of all the pretty products you’d used in the shower you’d taken prior to this little engagement. He can tell how smooth and soft your skin must be even without touching it.

“Hi,” he manages, blinking at you.

There’s a few seconds of awkwardness before you take the reins, bringing a hand up to cradle his jaw and guide him to where you want him, his lips just an inch away from yours — letting him be the one to close the gap.

“Whenever you’re ready,” you say in a gentle whisper, setting your hand back down.

You’re too sweet, too kind and caring. This is a mistake, a terrible one, that he’ll likely never recover from, but he’ll regret it forever if he walks out on you right now; this will likely be the only opportunity he’ll ever have to touch you like this.

He leans forward, nudging his nose against yours gently before he goes in for a kiss, thankful that he’d brushed his teeth in the last hour. You taste sweet and minty, your lips slippery with whatever salve you use to keep them that soft.

You continue guiding him through it, settling one of his hands on your waist and the other on the small of your back, how Xaden had held you, deepening the kiss, introducing your tongue a bit, starting him off slowly.

He steps forward, nudging your legs apart with one of his so he can be even closer to you.

There’s that cute, needy sound that he’d been instructed to look for. Boldened, he holds you a little tighter, pulling you toward him the way he’d seen Xaden do. You seem to like it, tangling a hand in the soft black fabric of his tunic and tugging him closer, whining softly.

He finally pulls away, breathless, just looking into your eyes for a moment, memorizing them. He’s never been this close to you before, never noticed the little streaks and flecks of different colors within your irises...

“Good,” a deep voice assesses.

He startles, stepping back as he remembers that Xaden is still leaning against the armoire five feet away — after all, this is his room, his bed, and his girlfriend.

You’d almost forgotten, too.

“Keep kissing her, and grope her a little,” Xaden says candidly. “She likes being handled.”

Xaden’s wording gives him pause. Her, She. Not girls in general, but you. He’s teaching Liam how to please you. He shakes the thought from his head, reminding himself that this is a one-time thing.

You’re giving him that soft, worried look again. He steps forward, putting his hands back on your waist and pulling you into another deep kiss. You squeak in surprise as his hands slide down to your ass, squeezing gently over the slippery silk.

He chuckles, a warm, rumbling sound that you’ll never grow tired of hearing, his lips trailing over your jaw down to your neck.

Xaden likes to leave his mark on you, sucking at your skin hard enough to leave purple bruises the next day, scraping over your pulse with his teeth… but Liam just wants to savor you, to press gentle kisses to every inch of you, to nuzzle his nose into your neck and breathe you in.

You relax against him, content to let him continue kneading at your hips and waist, rubbing his hands over the smooth skin and massaging out any tension left over from the long day of classes and flight training.

He’s worked his way down your neck to your collarbones and chest, his lips brushing the neckline of your nightshirt. He hesitates there for a moment, unsure how to proceed, but Xaden is quick to give more directions.

“Arms up, honey.”

You comply readily, Liam helping lift your shirt over your head. He folds it into neat quarters before he sets it aside on Xaden’s desk, treating the silky fabric as carefully as he does its owner.

You give him a nod of permission, and he slides his hands up your ribs to your chest, admiring the weight of the soft flesh in his hands for a moment, squeezing gently.

“And these cute little nipples,” Xaden coos, curling a wisp of shadow over them. You whine softly at the cold sensation, squirming a bit, but he doesn’t seem to care, still speaking to Liam. “Play with them. Rub your fingers on them, pinch a little bit, suck on them… But be gentle. She’s sensitive.”

He starts off slow, brushing his thumbs over them gently while he returns his lips to your collarbones, pressing little kisses over the soft skin. And then he moves down, down…

You sigh happily at the feeling of Liam’s tongue laving over your nipple in slow, gentle licks, continuing to tease the other with his fingers. He wraps his lips around it, suckling gently, and you tangle a hand in his hair, cradling the back of his head and keeping him close.

“That’s a good sign, too,” Xaden instructs. “Keep going.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice — he’s intent on taking his sweet time with you, licking and sucking and teasing the sensitive little buds. He could do this for hours, just to hear your soft sighs of pleasure and see the blissful look on your face while he works.

You decide that Liam Mairi is simply perfect at everything he tries. The top of his class, and an excellent student. He’s done everything right, passing Xaden’s assessment with flying colors. But if he’s this good with his tongue up here… you need that pretty blond head between your thighs, immediately.

“Shh, honey,” Xaden soothes. “He’ll give you what you need in a minute.”

You flush, realizing that your soft whimpers have become more frequent and higher pitched, more urgent, bordering on pathetic.

Liam pulls back, taking a second to admire you and giving your chest one last squeeze before he moves further down.

Gentle fingers hook into the waistband of the tiny pair of shorts you’re wearing, pulling them down your legs along with the even tinier underwear, a scrap of lace that while very pretty and undoubtedly expensive, must be removed, as it stands in the way of him burying his face between those gorgeous thighs of yours.

He wonders if you’ll taste as sweet as you had in those shameful dreams, the ones that had necessitated long, cold showers in the morning and sitting clear across the table from you at breakfast, trying not to look you in the eye.

“I’ll take those,” Xaden volunteers smugly, and Liam tosses them at him, returning his attention to your pussy.

“Holy shit, honey,” he swears, “you’re soaked.”

“Good,” Xaden praises. “That means you did everything right so far. But you still need to make her cum before I’ll let you fuck her.”

Liam’s eyes widen almost comically. He hadn’t expected Xaden to let him touch you at all, but now he’s allowed to go all the way with you? This has to be a dream.

“Only if you’re comfortable with that,” you remind him gently. “You don’t have to do anything that you don’t want to.”

“I do want to,” he answers, too quickly. Cute.

You smile at him; another tiny cut that will be rubbed full of salt tomorrow morning, when he’ll have to see you sitting with Xaden at breakfast and pretend this never happened, that he hasn’t known the taste of your lips and the feel of your skin.

“Then hop to it, pretty boy,” you encourage, smiling — it’s clear that you don’t mean it as an insult, but as a sweet pet name; he’s absolutely gorgeous.

Liam doesn’t need instructions for this part. He gets you settled up against the pillows, making sure you’re comfortable there before he gets to work. He kisses each of your hip bones, his hands smoothing over your legs to part them enough to accommodate his broad shoulders as he lays down on his stomach, hooking his muscled arms around your thighs.

Xaden crosses the room toward you, perching on the edge of his desk, right next to the bed.

You gasp softly at the feeling of Liam’s tongue on you — he’s doing exactly what he’d done to your chest, those soft little licks and sucks, his hands massaging your thighs gently…

“Just like that,” you breathe. He’s worked you up so well that you’re already close, and if he keeps doing what he’s doing, you’ll be cumming on his tongue in a minute or two.

He’s a very fast learner, and incredibly responsive— he’s figured out what earns him those cute little noises that have him throbbing with need, and now he’s doing those things over and over.

He resists the urge to reach down and stroke himself to take the edge off, knowing he wouldn’t last, not with how sweet you taste and the warmth and softness of your thigh against his cheek, your hand in his hair…

“Liam,” you mew, tugging at the soft blonde strands.

Your jaw drops at the realization of just how easily his name left your lips, how natural it felt… You look over at Xaden, wanting to apologize, but it’s hard to form words right now with how good Liam’s tongue feels sucking at your clit.

“It’s okay, honey,” Xaden soothes, tilting your chin up with a gentle hand. “You should let him know how good it feels — how else will he learn, hm?”

You nod, your eyes still locked with his. The depth of those nearly-black irises is such a stark contrast to Liam’s ice blue, but you could easily drown in both, never able to find your way back up to the surface.

“Slip a finger in, slowly.”

Liam’s hands are just as giant as Xaden’s, his fingers just as thick — but rougher, calloused from his constant whittling. Such a cute, innocent hobby. But there’s nothing innocent about the way he’s touching you right now.

“Look for that little rough spot,” Xaden instructs, still looking you directly in the eye. “Press into it a little bit.”

You whimper softly, entranced by the little gold flecks in his irises.

“Sounds like you found it,” he says, sounding amused. “Now curl your fingertips against it, press up on it gently…”

Liam is a perfect soldier, in every sense of both words; very good at following orders, complying without hesitation and getting the job done, but he might be too perfect, too gentle and handsome and kind, too loving… too good to be true. He’s going to absolutely ruin you — both by making you fall apart for him, in what is undoubtedly going to be one of the best orgasms of your life, and by breaking your heart when this is all over.

You focus back on the pleasure, the thoughts fading away quickly. “So good, baby,” you breathe, “just like that.”

Liam hums in acknowledgment, continuing the motions, the soft lap of his tongue and the gentle press of his fingertip into that special little spot quickly building up the pressure between your hips, getting you closer and closer…

“Add a second finger. You’ll need to stretch her a little if you want your cock to fit.”

It’s easy enough for him to slip in his middle finger beside his index, your body providing no resistance to the intrusion; you’re aching for it. You have been since Xaden told you about this little plan of his.

You need to thank him profusely for this later. Maybe you’ll get on your knees for him in the shower, or- “oh,” you gasp, the deep pleasure intensifying now that Liam is pushing two fingers into that little spot… you’re not going to last.

“Xay,” you whimper, remembering the rules he’d laid out for you prior to Liam’s arrival — Liam might be allowed to play with you for one night, but you’re still very much Xaden’s, and he’s still very much in control here.

He coos down at you patronizingly. “You getting close, honey? You wanna cum on Liam’s fingers?“

“Yes, please,” you pant, whining up at him.

“Such good manners,” he praises. “Go ahead, honey. Show him how pretty you sound when you cum.”

It only takes a few more seconds of that delicious pressure building before it becomes enough to throw you over the edge. You whine, tightening around Liam’s fingers and squirming in his grasp, babbling a mix of swear words and thank-you’s and both of their names.

Liam slows his pace, letting you ride it out with a few more soft licks.

“Keep going,” Xaden orders. “She knows what to say if it’s too much. Doesn’t she, honey?”

“Uh-huh,” you manage between your cute little cries, gasping as you feel cold bands of shadow wrap around the backs of your knees, keeping your legs spread while you squirm in sensitivity, undecided between chasing the pleasure and running from it.

Thank the gods for sound shields.

It’s clear to Xaden that you’re reaching your limit, starting to get overwhelmed, and he doesn’t want to wear you out just yet. “Stop,” he orders, calling back his shadows.

Liam withdraws his fingers, and you slump back down against the pillows, spent and panting.

Liam doesn’t have to be told to comfort you after, to take care of you in the comedown — he does it instinctively. “Shh, honey,” he soothes, scooping you into his lap and holding you close. “It’s okay.”

You rest your head against his collarbone, cuddling into him and letting your eyes fall shut, just taking a moment to breathe.

“You did so good for us, pretty girl. Just breathe, hm? You’re safe with us.”

Xaden had convinced himself that this would be a one-off thing, but seeing the tenderness with which Liam is holding you, stroking your hair and cooing soft praises…

Liam’s a good guy, kind-hearted and caring, but this isn’t just that — no, this is genuine love that he senses between you. It might be heightened right now due to the incredibly intimate experience you just had with one another, but there’s something there. He gets the feeling that there always has been, even before your days at Basgiath; it’s just been brought to the surface tonight, and oddly enough, Xaden isn’t mad about it at all.

It should piss him off. He should detest the idea of another pair of hands, male hands, on his girl, but it’s Liam. He loves Liam. Not in the way he loves you — and he doesn’t want to fuck him, that’s for sure — but he cares for the younger boy deeply, and if anyone else is going to be touching his girl, he’d want it to be Liam. Maybe that’s why he’d suggested this whole thing in the first place.

You’ve made a full recovery by now, caught your breath, and you sit up in Liam’s lap, drawing him into a kiss.

Such a needy little thing, always eager for more. Liam is happy to help, kissing you back easily, smoothing his hands over your sides and kneading your hips. He places a hand on the back of your head, another on your waist, laying you down in one slow, fluid movement — again, with the utmost gentleness, making sure that you’re comfortable.

“Put a pillow under her hips,” Xaden instructs.

Liam takes one from the head of the bed, his other hand hooking under your knees to lift your lower body off the bed — you giggle, impressed by his strength.

Liam wonders if you like being thrown around a little bit, manhandled, held down… you’d look and sound so pretty getting pounded into the mattress, face-down ass-up, whimpering into the pillows, but he’s not wasting this opportunity on a quick, rough fuck — and Xaden would probably take issue with that, anyway. No, Liam’s going to take his sweet time with you, treat you nice and gently, and look into your eyes while he does it.

Your jaw drops at the sight of him finally pantsless, the thick black uniform fabric pulled off to expose the pale muscle of his thighs. Gods, you’d love to straddle one and just grind against it while you kiss him, those giant hands on your hips helping guide you back and forth until you came, and then…

Holy shit.

Everything about Liam Mairi is perfect, including — and especially — his cock. And you need it inside you, now.

He strokes himself once, twice, as if he isn’t rock-hard already, dragging the tip through your wetness, letting it tease your clit…

You whimper softly, shifting your hips down to try to guide him into you.

“Words, honey,” he reminds, in a tone eerily similar to Xaden’s. The last twenty minutes have certainly boldened him.

“Want you to fuck me, Liam, please,” you ask softly, pouting up at him. “Need it.”

He could never say no to that pretty face, never deprive you of anything you wanted. He slowly pushes forward, giving you the first two inches.

You take in that same little breath you do when Xaden slides into you, looking up at Liam the same way, with glossy eyes and parted lips, gripping the sheets on either side of you. He takes one of your hands in his, intertwining your fingers. “You okay, honey?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, taking a moment to adjust. He’s not quite as big as Xaden, but it’s still more than enough to fill you completely, a slight stretch as he slowly makes his way forward, a little bit at a time.

He leans down to kiss you, stroking a roughened hand over the softness of your waist soothingly. It’s taking every ounce of his self-restraint not to lose it right now, at the feeling of you wrapped around him, but he needs to make sure you’re okay first before he does anything else.

“M’ ready,” you tell him softly.

“If it hurts, say the word and I’ll stop, okay? I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Okay,” you answer obediently, your heart melting — Liam has always been sweet to you, if a little shy, but right now it’s increased fourfold, every word and every touch coated with love and care.

“Attagirl,” he praises, giving you a little peck before he straightens back up, adjusting his hold on your waist and starting to rock his hips into yours.

You both gasp in unison at the feeling, soft pleasure spreading through your core.

“How’s she feel?” Xaden asks, a note of smug amusement in his tone — it's clear that Liam is finally starting to lose his grip a little, his breathing getting heavier, his cheeks flushed…

“Like heaven,” he answers, trying to keep his composure, “so warm and wet and tight… fuck,”

He’s so fucking deep inside you, hitting all the right spots and touching you in the right places, working his way into your heart and carving out a space for himself between your ribs. You hold his hand a little tighter, whimpering softly.

“Doing so good for me, honey, taking me so well,” Liam soothes, stroking his thumb over your knuckles. “How’s that feel?”

“Really… good… So… deep,” you manage, your eyes still locked with his, your breaths coming in little pants and gasps.

“Yeah?” he asks, teasing, “Can you feel me in your tummy, baby?” He lays a giant hand between your hips, pushing down, and your jaw drops — the added pressure makes you feel even more full of him, makes every sensation more overwhelming and intense.

Where did he learn to do that?

“Uh-huh,” you stammer. “Feels so good, ah,” It’s very good. Overwhelmingly good.

Xaden makes a mental note to try that with you later — you look like you absolutely love it.

The little fucker didn’t need lessons at all, just a confidence boost, and you’re certainly giving that to him. Xaden knew that deep down, knew about that little puppy crush he’s had on you for years, which hadn’t faded in the time you’d been apart, but decided to offer you up anyway, precise reasons unknown.

He gets the feeling that this might not be a one-night thing after all. But maybe that’s for the best. Maybe Liam can warm your bed and tend to your heart while he’s busy running his revolution and spending late nights on wingleader duty, doing his dagger drops with the fliers…

Liam adjusts the position of his hand, a long finger reaching down to swirl over your clit, and the combination of it all is enough to get you there.

You tear your eyes away from Liam’s to look over at Xaden, a panicked little whimper leaving your lips.

He knows exactly what that sound means. “Shh, honey, it’s okay,” he coos, stroking your hair. “You can cum.”

“Thank you, oh, fuck,”

Liam hadn’t gotten a proper look at you last time, his eyes closed and his head tucked between your thighs, but looking down at you now, seeing your face; cheeks flushed, lips parted in cute little panting breaths, hands clutching the sheets… and then he feels it — feels you clamp down on him, your thighs trembling against his as you shatter.

“Fuck,” Liam rasps, his fingers digging into your hips to ground himself as he continues to fuck you through it.

You’re drowning in the deep blue of his eyes, and you need something to hold on to. You wrap your legs around his waist and pull him down by the shoulders so he’s practically laying on top of you — you always do this to Xaden, needing to feel him close to you in your hazy state, and Liam isn’t an exception.

The closeness definitely does something to Liam as well. He braces his forearms against the bed and continues to rock his hips into yours, panting soft praises. “Attagirl. So pretty, so soft and sweet and perfect… you feel so fucking good, sweetheart, doing so well for me.”

If you weren’t his brother’s girlfriend, he’d probably throw an I love you in there too, find some way to call you his, to tell you how much you mean to him outside of this bed, but he still has enough rationality left to know would be a bad idea even without Xaden supervising this whole thing.

He’s so close to you, your entire bodies pressed together, your breaths mixing and noses brushing… you’re clinging to him, continuing to whimper up at him softly… He’s about to fall apart himself.

“You can cum inside her, if you want,” Xaden offers, too casually.

You keen at the idea, shifting your hips to try to take him deeper.

“Oh, would you like that, pretty girl?” he asks teasingly, through panting breaths. “Want me to fill you up?”

“Yes, please,” you beg, wrapping your legs around him tighter.

He’s not going to last. He starts to move a little faster, chasing his own high — he’s never waited this long, never spent so much time on a partner’s pleasure, and while you absolutely deserved it, he needs his own release desperately. “Oh, fuck,” he gasps, “gonna cum, baby, are you sure you want me to—”

You tangle your hand in the short blonde hair at the back of his neck and yank him down into a kiss, keeping your legs tight around his waist, not letting him pull out.

He whines against your lips, the prettiest little muffled moan as he spills into you.

“Holy shit,” he pants, his cheeks red from the exertion. He’s always pretty, but nothing beats this, all flushed and fucked out, his hair mussed and lips swollen from the kisses you’d shared, eyes half-lidded…

You commit the sight to memory, suddenly hit with the realization that you’ll never see it again. For all intents and purposes, this “lesson” is over, and starting tomorrow morning, Liam will go back to being your boyfriend’s little brother, and nothing else.

He seems to realize the same thing, resting his head over your heart and breathing you in for a moment, the both of you lingering in the afterglow, not wanting to say goodbye. You hold him a little closer, stroking your hand through his damp hair silently.

Xaden lets you have a minute together, seeming to understand the significance of this moment for the both of you, and backing off.

He slips down from his perch on the edge of the desk, giving you space, but you reach for him, wanting him close, too.

“Can Li stay the night?” you ask in a small voice, not ready for him to leave.

He smiles at you. “Of course he can, sweet girl.”

“Thank you,” you murmur. “Love you.”

“I love you too, baby. Now let's get you both cleaned up.”

You hum sleepily, letting him pull you up out of bed and get you ready for the showers.

It’s surprisingly not awkward, the two boys working in tandem to clean you up — neither of them mind the other’s presence, having been desensitized to casual nudity from years — or in Liam’s case, weeks — of sharing a bathing room with a handful of strangers.

Liam dries you off, sorting out your hair while Xaden helps rub in that sweet-smelling lotion and dresses you in one of his shirts before you flop down into bed, cuddling up between them contentedly.

You give Liam a sweet little goodnight kiss before you roll over, working yourself into Xaden’s arms like you always do, curling up against the strength of his chest, your head over his heart.

This could work, Xaden decides. You have enough room in your heart for both of them, and he knows that Liam’s intentions are pure — the only hitch will be managing his own emotions, namely any jealousy that arises over another man being romantic with his girlfriend.

It had honestly surprised him when he’d decided to offer Liam a night with you. He’s always considered himself possessive, ready to glare at anyone who looked at you too long — and that had intensified after he’d gotten his magic, once he could “read” people, but maybe that’s why he’d let Liam in, because he felt nothing but love and admiration from the boy.

Still, he can’t help but feel a little left out, even if he’d been the one controlling the whole situation — he hadn’t gotten off himself, too focused on coaching Liam and making sure you were okay, and then it would just have been awkward to do anything with you while Liam sat there idle…

Tomorrow morning, after Liam heads back to his own room, you’ll have some fun, just the two of you. Maybe he’ll tie you up with his shadows again, or press you up against the wall in the showers… the possibilities are endless, but he’ll probably decide on sleepy morning sex. It’s a Friday night, so you can sleep in a little Saturday morning, and have time for a lazy, loving fuck before anything is expected of either of you. He’ll remind you how much you love each other, and treat you as sweetly as Liam had — admittedly, he hasn’t been too gentle with you lately, focused on fucking out the stress of his third year, and being wingleader and leading a revolution on top of it all, but you’d taken it well, literally.

He’ll sleep on it, give it a day or two to simmer before he’ll discuss it with each of you; you first, of course, to see what you say so he doesn’t get Liam’s hopes up, but from the way your hand is still tangled up with Liam’s, his chest pressed to your back and his face nuzzled into the side of your neck, it’s pretty clear that neither of you would be opposed to them sharing you.

But all that can wait — for now, you just need to rest, tucked safely between the two boys that love you more than anyone else in the world.

#liam mairi #xaden riorson #fourth wing #liam mairi x reader #xaden riorson x reader #fourth wing x reader #mine #18+#smut

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ebodebo · 20 hours

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summary: jason todd "red hood" is on the hunt for the director and his accomplice, blueprint, gotham's most notourious art theives.

pairing: jason todd "red hood" x art thief "blueprint!" reader

a/n: HELLO let me start by saying that ik the director is already a thing, so i'm not claiming to have come up with the name! i just thought it fit well with this character. also, jason might be a little ooc, BUT it's okay bc he's still eating. ALSO i'm pretty new to the fandom, so plz go easy on me if i missed some details, or if it's not completely accurate. i tried my best. with that said, i hope you all enjoy!

word count: 2.5k+

wanna be on my taglist ? fill out this form !

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Chasing The Mask

A heavy dew settles over the city, along with a light fall of freezing rain. It would almost be calming if you didn't know it was Gotham. One of the most crime-ridden cities in the world. Full of crooks and villains alike.

Among the haze of rain and sleet, a vigilante sits perched on the top of one of the city's most renowned museums, The Metropolitan. The Red Hood, so he calls himself. While most nights he goes out into the night by himself, to his dismay, tonight he is accompanied by his heroine brother, Nightwing.

The Metropolitan is filled with some of the most exquisite pieces of art made by some highly famed artists, from Van Gogh to Basquiet. It is home to a most priceless collection, indeed.

Of course, with such valuable pieces, the museum has been the target of numerous theft attempts, and tonight is no exception.

"You didn't have to come," Red Hood snarkily says as he leans against the red brick encasing the rooftop exit door.

"Just trynna' help out." The honesty in his voice makes Red Hood roll his eyes. He doesn't necessarily hate Nightwing but he thinks he's too smug for his own good. An entitled, know-it-all. But they are brothers, after all. So, there is a sense of undeniable care there.

"I've got it taken care of." Red Hood counters, crossing his arms. His tone is almost defensive. Does Nightwing believe he can't catch a simple art thief? Like he's some kind of amateur?

"Is that right?" Nightwing questions, crossing his arms, too.

"Yes." Defensive, again.

"Because, last time I checked, The Director and Blueprint are still running around Gotham." Nightwing accused.

"Way to state the obvious, Dick." Red Hood enunciated his name. Dick was used to Hood using his name as a homonym, often.

"I'm waiting." Hood finally answered his question after the insult. Nightwing let out a light laugh. "For what exactly?" He pushes, uncrossing his arms and walking over to the brick wall Hood was leaning on.

"An opportunity," Hood stated as if it was the simplest thing in the world. "Jesus Christ, Jason." Nightwing pulled his hand up to wipe across his face, which was covered by a simple black domino mask.

"This is exactly why I didn't want you to come, Dick." Hood sighed deeply. "Talk too much." He finished, uncrossing his arms.

"Sorry, I have-" Nightwing started, but Hood quickly interrupted.

"Wait, shut up," Hood stated, putting his pointer finger in the air.

"You're really starting to piss me off." Nightwing exhales, anger simmering off his body.

"Dick, I'm serious," Hood says, turning his head to look around the roof. "You hear that?" He questions.

"Hear wha-?"

"Boys." Hood and Nightwing quickly turn to see Blueprint emerging behind the bricked rooftop door they were leaning on.

"Blueprint," they simultaneously say. "What are you two doing here?" you ask, tilting your head. Nightwing is quick to respond. "We could ask you the same thing."

"A woman never reveals her secrets." You chirp, pointing your finger at both of them. You walk closer to them, smiling. "It's actually good to see you both."

"Wish we could say the same." Hood finally speaks. His words are gruff and gray. You rapidly turn your head towards him. It felt weird seeing him like this. Not even thirty minutes ago, you were lying in the sanctity of his warm, cozy bed in a post-orgasmic haze. It wasn't like you and him were dating, but you had met his family and shared a specific intimacy that wasn't common to either of you.

It was a complicated situation. You knew he was Red Hood, but he had no idea you were Blueprint. You liked him, sure, but this was strictly business. There were no feelings involved.

"Blue?" Hood questioned, tilting his head to the side in confusion.

You shake your head, absolving you of your thoughts. "Would love to stay and chat, boys, but I have some paintings to tend to." Thanks to The Director, you swivel on your heel to head toward the rooftop exit door that's been propped open.

"That won't be happening today," Nightwing spoke, pulling out his slick-black Escrima Sticks.

You let out a smug laugh. "And I suppose you two are going to stop me?" You crossed your arms over your chest, tilting your head.

"That's the plan," Hood said, pulling out his weaponry, which was tucked nicely in his jacket.

You gave a nice, wide smile before pressing the button on the small metal capsule of a lead-lined smoke grenade that had been concealed in your hand, throwing it in front of them, unleashing a cloud of smoke that covered your being as you made your getaway.

"Bye-bye, batboys." You yelled to them as you sprinted to the ajar exit door and entered the museum's stairwell.

"Fuck." Hood says through coughs as the smoke forces its way deep into his lungs. Even with smoke filling his lungs, he's still quick to spring into action, following you inside the museum, with Nightwing following hot on his trail, coughing as well.

You flew down the steps. Skipping three, even four, steps at of time. When you turned around after you got inside, they weren't even behind you, still coughing and heaving on the smoke. It was a damn shame Jason was so tall because once you scaled the second staircase, you turned to see Jason beginning the second one. Your eyes widened under your mask at how swift he was. You turned and continued sprinting as fast as your legs could go.

You could faintly hear Hood and Nightwing yell at you to stop, but you pursued down the flights downstairs, reaching the last set of stairs.

You scrambled up as Hood came unexpectedly close and almost grabbed your arm, but you managed to escape his grasp, holding the handle of the main door and slipping inside, slamming it in his face. You breathed a sigh of relief as your legs carried you over to where The Director AKA your dad was standing, holding an authentic Da Vinci portrait.

"Nice job, Blue." Your dad remarked, referring to the diversion you created with the bats so he could slyly take the precious art without them interfering. Though slamming the door did make an excellent barrier, you had forgotten to arm the system back, so Hood and Nightwing forcefully pushed the door open.

"You didn't arm the door system back?" Your dad hissed, looking down at you.

"I-shit." You cursed, turning to see Hood and Nightwing standing only a few feet from where you and your dad stood.

"You really think you're going to get away with this?" Nightwing cockily questions, stretching his arms down with his sticks in each hand.

The Director let out a deep, guttural laugh, causing you to spin your head to face him. "Don't you see? I already have," he declared, showing the painting in his hand.

"We could still take you out." Hood points out, his eyes on The Director, as his hand slides to reach for a gadget on his signature utility belt. Though, he couldn't feel anything. Did he seriously forget to bring it?

"How are you going to do that, Hood?" The Director challenged. "Don't have that shiny belt on, do you?" He questioned, gesturing to his waist.

Hood glanced at Nightwing. "You forgot your belt?" Nightwing questioned, disbelief coating his voice.

"I could have sworn-" Hood says before shaking the rest of the sentence off. "Whatever. I don't need it." He assures, assuming a fighting position.

It was honestly true. Hood was an incredible fighter. Watching him fight was astonishing. He could move his body in ways you didn't even know were humanly possible. But, you did not want to fight him. You just wanted to appease your father by helping obtain the painting, so you could all get the hell out of there.

"Get them." Your father demanded, looking down at you. You hesitated, looking up at your father. "Did you hear me? Get them." His words came out harsher than the first, showing his agitation.

"Come on, Blue, we won't go that hard on you." Hood snarkily remarked, and you reached for his belt wrapped around your waist. You felt a weird sense of guilt as you covertly pulled out a Batarang.

"You just gonna stand there or-" Hood starts but is interrupted by the Batarang swinging right near the side of his head.

"I actually think I'd like to play, Red." You mischievously say, running towards Nightwing, catching him a little off guard, and extending your leg to kick him in the stomach, pushing him back, as he holds his stomach.

"Come on, Red. I won't bite." You say, making your way over to him while Nightwing is still down. You let out a powerful punch, but he's quick to move his head to the side, dodging it.

"Actually, I think you might." He says, grabbing your extended arm and twisting it so your body turns in the other direction.

Nightwing makes his way up. "Well, that was easier than expected." He said, wiping his hands together.

"Because I did all of the work." Hood chimed, still with your arm twisted behind your back. Their banter made for a good distraction so that you could reach into the utility belt Jason mistakenly left at your house and grabbed a stun gun.

You turned quickly, letting go of contact with him, as Hood talked, and pressed the tazer to his forearm. Although clothed, the powerful current still hit his skin, making him drop to the floor, convulsing.

"Wanna have some fun, Grayson?" You sarcastically ask as you step closer to him. He swings his sticks in front of him in a criss-crossed pattern.

You take his silence as an answer. "I knew you were always the boring one." You sigh, holding up the stun gun.

"That's a bat-belt." Nightwing states casually, looking over at Hood, whose body is hunched over on the ground, still convulsing.

"Aren't you just a genius? You sneered, carefully watching him.

"How the hell did you get bat-belt?" Nightwing gruffly questions, eyeing your hand with the stun gun. You narrow your eyes at him. "Like I said before, a woman never reveals her secrets." You quickly move towards him, though he's not so off guard. Not like Hood was.

However, unlike a taser, a stun gun does not shoot any projectiles, and it has to be held against a body or skin to do any damage. Nightwing was standing a few feet from you so the stun gun would do you no good.

But, you don't even get a chance to use it because he's quick to knock the stun gun out of your hand and uses his stick to hit across the museum, a ways from any of you.

"Ah, I get it," Nightwing says, letting his sticks rest on his side. You tilt your head to the side. "Get what?" You shouldn't be indulging him. You should be kicking his ass, but with Hood down, Nightwing wasn't going to be so much work. Plus, in between fighting them, your dad had slipped away, leaving you to do the damage control.

"You got it from Jason, right? Well, stole." He dragged out the last word.

"It's not really stealing if he leaves it in my apartment. Is it?" You retort smugly.

"Of course he did." As he finishes his sentence, you realize you two have been talking for a while. Well, in hindsight, in normal conversation, no, but this is supposed to be a fight, not a catch-up. Wait, I haven't heard Hood? Upon this epiphany, you turn to see an empty spot where Hood laid.

"Where-where did he go?" You stutter, deciphering when he could have left and how you didn't hear him.

"Oh, Jason?" Nightwing starts. "He left a while ago—once you turned around, actually." He coolly says this, sliding his sticks back on through the straps on the back of his suit.

This was a diversion, and you were stupid enough to fall for it. Shit, your dad is going to be so pis-

"Got em'," You hear Hood's voice echo off the walls as he walks in with your father, ropes tied around his hands and ankles, painting in hand. He handed him off to Nightwing as he placed the art back in its place.

You and Hood watched as Nightwing dragged him through the exit door you all came in through.

"So, heard you stole from me?" Hood tuts, shifting closer to you.

"Like I said to your brother, it's not stealing if you leave it in my apartment." You retaliate, your throat drying as he moves closer.

"It's still mine." He's now standing right in front of you. You feel flustered at the proximity but cannot let it show. He would never let you live it down.

"And I want it back," he casually says, his hands ghosting over your waist, housing the belt in question.

You look straight up at him. "Take it then." You swear you could hear him inhale deeply at your suggestive words, but you don't ask.

His hands wander to the belt, hanging a little low on you. You swear he holds his fingers on the front part just to tease you, and if that was the goal, fuck, did he succeed. But you wouldn't tell him that. His ego is already huge. His fingers leave the front portion of the belt and continue dragging slowly along the sides until he reaches the back to unclasp it, and pull it off of you.

Once he steps back, you release a breath you didn't even know you were holding. "I would leave now." He suggests, wrapping the belt around his own waist. "You know, before the police get here."

"Okay." You felt like he had just put you under a spell. You are willingly agreeing with him. He can sense this, too, and smirks under his mask at your cooperation.

"Night, Blue." He says as he turns to the rooftop top exit door, pushing it slightly.

"Goodnight, Red." You say, releasing a sigh of relief once he steps outside the door.

"Oh my God." You say to yourself. "That was-" You pause, taking a deep breath. "Do I like Red Hood?" You question, thinking. "No. Definitely not. It was nothing." You lie to yourself. You had only ever slept with the guy, so it just had to be the undeniable sexual tension between you two. That’s all. Right?

You thank God when you push open the rooftop door that Hood isn't hovering behind the door, listening to you essentially try to deny, and fail, expressing your feelings for him.

It is so nice for Hood that stairwells offer a safe place during storms, but they also offer space for a secret spot, just like the one Hood implemented into the walls of The Metropoliton some years ago.

He used to hide from criminals chasing him through the museum, which happened quite frequently, but now he was using it to simply make sure you left okay. But who knew it would double as a way to hear about your secret love confession? Certainly not him.

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taglist: @artemis-b-writes @sceletaflores @yuenity @starsofang

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