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freedomfireflies · 8 months

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Break Me*

Summary: An extra for Teach Me*

The one where Harry edges you into your subspace for the very first time.

Inspired by this request!!

Word Count: 2.5k

*Contains Mature and Explicit content! Please only consume what you feel comfortable with!💞You are so much more important!*

“Again.”

You whine as Harry’s hand travels down the length of your stomach, his nails curling into your warm, sweaty flesh. “Har—”

“Again, Bee,” he murmurs from his place between your thighs, tongue darting out to drag through your pussy. The low and gentle vibrations of his deep voice send waves of pleasure directly to your cunt, reverberating through your clit until you nearly begin to cry. “Thought you promised to be my good girl, hm?”

You arch from the bed, arms straining against the rope that keep your wrists taut to the headboard. Keeping you from him. “I…I—”

He looks up. Soft green eyes now piercing right through you until your breath hitches, and you feel your chest just about cave in.

You know he’s right. Know you promised him. Swore on every star to behave. But that was before. Before he’d decided almost two and a half hours ago to edge you right to the brink of orgasm just to abandon you on that endless edge with no hope of getting down.

Or getting off.

“Come on,” he urges, pressing your thigh deep into the mattress to keep you spread and pliable. “Know you can do it, baby girl. Know you can. Been so good for me already. Come on.”

You peer down at him through damp lashes, the tears on your cheeks warm and glistening beneath the soft light of the lamp in the corner of the room. “H…”

His expression softens but the kisses to your cunt never cease, proving that this act of sympathy is all for show. “Say it, sweetie,” he whispers, lips trailing toward the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. “What are you, hm?”

You inhale a greedy gasp for air, lashes fluttering shut as if to hide from him while you finally answer, “I’m…I’m yours. Only yours. Your fucktoy. Just…just a hole for you.”

The grin that splits his face is large and pleased, and you feel oddly relieved to have made him so proud.

“That’s right,” he agrees, squeezing the flesh of your waist in his hand. “My sweet little slut. Just a hole. Just a thing for me to use, yeah?”

You nod quickly, face turning toward your arm as though to hide from his amused gaze.

But he doesn’t like this, instead sitting up to take hold of your jaw and tug your attention back. “Uh-uh, Bee. None of that. Want you to be proud. Want you to be proud of the way you submit to me. Proud of your place beneath me."

You stumble over a soft sob, finally peering up at him with awe and admiration as the edge of his mouth quirks upward.

“You’re okay,” he says gently, thumbing at your tears before giving your throat a quick squeeze. “You’re okay, and you’re gonna behave for me like you promised. Isn’t that right?”

Again, you nod wordlessly. Watching with slight terror as he crawls back down your body and returns his focus to your cunt.

He loves to look at you. Loves to watch the way your body twitches or squirms. The way your clit becomes swollen and puffy, the way your pussy turns red and raw from his ministrations. The way you plead with him for release even though you know he’ll never offer it to you.

He reaches for the bullet vibrator that sits on the bed in wait, bringing it back into play as you whimper and attempt to close your legs in retaliation.

But his large body keeps them open, as does the pointed glare of warning that he shoots you before flicking the toy on.

Just the sound of the vibrations makes you whine, a chill traveling straight to your core as you begin to breathe a little quicker. Eyes locked on the weapon in his grasp.

You know what comes next. Know the pain and the pleasure that’ll be forced on you as you fight against your orgasm. Harry can be cruel, but you don’t imagine he’s ever been as cruel as he is today. With his unbreakable desire to ruin you.

The moment the tip of the vibrator comes in contact with your clit, you begin to cry, already too sensitive from the last round. Even without release, your body feels spent. Tortured and overstimulated. You don’t think you can take much more. Don’t think you have the strength to hold off the way he’s demanding you do.

“Shh,” he coos from below, attention zeroed in on the movement of the toy. The way it circles the aching nerves, the way it presses against them, deep into the bone. “You can take it, you’re okay.”

You want to believe him, but after everything else…you aren’t quite sure.

Depraved and desolate sounds fall from your mouth without pause. There’s no room for air in your lungs with the way you sough and sigh from the unforgiving touch of the machine.

He’s focused and unrelenting. Digging the tip deep into your flesh before dragging it through your pussy, using it to spread you open. It gets lost in your arousal, the silicone coated with your wetness as he circles your fluttering hole with glee.

“You’re so close, aren’t you, sweetie?” he purrs, shifting a bit closer to press a kiss to your clit.

You buck up and gasp his name, and that’s answer enough.

“Yeah?” He does it again before just barely slipping the vibrator inside. “No. Hold it.”

It’s the meanest thing he’s ever said to you, and the tears fall a little faster with every push of the toy into your cunt.

The feeling is indescribable. The way the pulsations echo throughout your entire nervous system, dragging you quicker toward the end than almost anything else has so far. You clench and unclench around the vibrator over and over and over. The low hum nearly driving you mad.

And it makes Harry so goddamn proud.

He chuckles rather sadistically, in the kind of entertained tone that forces a new wave of arousal to pool between your thighs while he fucks the toy into you.

“There you go,” he hums, rubbing circles into your thigh with his other hand. Perhaps in an attempt to soothe you, but all it does is remind you of what you can’t have. Him. “Bet it feels so good. Doesn’t it, baby girl? Feels so good to be used.”

“Harry,” you whine, wrists burning from the harsh friction of the rope against your skin. “Please…please—”

“Look at you,” he continues, ignoring your pleas. “So pretty, baby. All fucked out and ready. You like being easy, don’t you? Like being my easy little whore.”

“H—”

“Know you do. This pretty little pussy just begs for me, doesn’t she? Yeah? All I have to do is look at you and you’ll drip down to your ass for me.”

“God, please…please—”

“Look at me, baby girl. Want you to look at me. Want you to watch. Don’t be shy, lovie, come on. Know you fucking love it—”

“Harry, please—"

“No,” he says softly. Quietly. Refusing your attempt before you can even offer it. “No, sweetie. Gonna hold it. Gonna do what I asked.”

“I…I can’t,” you gasp, already feeling the seams unravel. “I can’t, H, please…please—”

“No,” he repeats, a touch more stern, shooting you a look of warning. “You promised, Bee. Promised to be my good girl.”

“Trying—” You manage through a strangled sob. “M’trying…can’t…can’t—”

"Yes, you can. Hold it, love. You fucking hold it. Do not cum."

"I'm...I...Daddy—"

He seems to understand before you do, hand tightening around your thigh as though to punish you before he’s tugging the toy from your spasming pussy.

But it’s too late. It hits you like a fucking freight train until your vision goes fuzzy and your heart nearly pummels out of your chest.

You don’t know how many times he’s edged you. You’ve lost count, but it catches up to you now as the release nearly blinds you, practically sending you into a second before the first is even finished.

Harry’s hand smacks down on your clit, the wet sound of skin on skin making you cry that much harder until your body nearly recoils away from him.

Your muscles ache from the way you’re straining, arms sore in every possible place as the rope keeps you stuck beneath him.

And it feels so good, but you can’t seem to stop the heaving of your lungs. Can’t seem to subdue the tears falling from your eye or the soft sounds of remorse that slip between your lips.

You’ve done the one thing he asked you not to do, and you tried so hard. You really did and you can’t understand why you came anyway. You shouldn’t have cum – he asked you not to cum, but you did. And you’d been doing so well. You’d been his good girl. And if you’d just held on a little longer…maybe he would have been good to you.

Now? Now he’s never going to touch you again. He’s going to send you to the guest room or make you sleep on the floor. He won’t cuddle you or kiss you or even look at you.

You can already see his disappointment, can already feel him taking himself away, and you begin to shake your head furiously.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you blubber, voice breaking on every syllable. “I’m sorry, Daddy, I’m sorry. I tried, I really tried, I promise I tried. I don’t…don’t know what happened, don’t…couldn’t stop it. I couldn’t, I tried. I tried, I’m sorry—”

“Hey, hey, hey,” he murmurs, expression twisting into something that makes your gut wrench. “Baby girl…breathe. Breathe for me, okay? You’re okay—”

“No,” you wail, tucking your face behind your arm in an attempt to hide from him. “No, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry—”

“Baby,” he exhales, and you feel his large palm slip around your jaw to force you back out, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. “Hey, look at me. What happened, what’s going on?”

You stumble over a hiccup and peer up at him through wet lashes. “M’so sorry, Daddy. I tried, I promise. Please don’t be mad. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to. I didn’t—”

“Shh,” he murmurs quietly, dipping down to nudge his nose against yours. Taking a beat until he feels you suck in a wounded inhale. “I know, sweetie. I know. I pushed you really hard. I know you tried. Did so good for me.”

However, his sympathetic encouragement merely brings the tears back tenfold, and you begin to shake beneath him as you desperately search for more. More of his voice, more of his touch, more of his praise. It’s the only thing keeping you from falling apart.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper again, stomach rising and falling with each quick breath. “I’m sorry, Daddy—”

He frowns but it’s gentle. “I know, baby girl,” he says, thumb stroking the stained skin of your cheek. “I know, I’m not mad. Could never be mad at you. Ever. I’m proud of you. Did so well, sweetie. Did so fucking good for me.”

You nuzzle into his hand, lips pushed into a desolate pout as you try to kiss any part of him you can reach.

You hear him sigh, although you don’t look. You simply allow your eyes to fall shut as you bask in his glow.

“Bee,” he murmurs, using his other hand to squeeze your hip while his body comes to rest above yours. “Sweetie…did I break you? Did you slip? Did you slip away from Daddy?”

Truthfully, you aren’t sure what you’ve done or why you feel the way you do. But the sound of his question – even though quite odd – makes you feel sparkly. The deep cadence of his voice as soothing as the fingers dancing circles against your side.

You crack an eye open and find him. Taking note of the curiosity on his face and the slight upset attempting to weave into the furrowed skin of his forehead.

“I’m right here,” you say softly, desperately wanting to assure him that you haven’t left him.

He’s unconvinced. “You’re here,” he agrees, squeezing your leg with a nod before he moves his thumb to your temple, and taps it twice. “But are you here?”

You begin to frown, a little unsure what he might mean. “I’m here,” you repeat, a bit more pointedly. “With you.”

For a moment, he merely stares. The corner of his mouth dancing up into a delicate smile as he sighs and leans down to kiss you.

“With me,” he echoes, nipping at your bottom lip until you giggle. “Always with me.”

Feeling rather soothed, you settle beneath him, and allow him to map the expanse of your body with his mouth. He kisses your cheek, your jaw, your throat. The space below your ear, the curve of your shoulder, the valley between your breasts.

Then, he moves up. Trailing those kisses up your lifted arms, one after the other until he reaches your wrists.

He begins to untie them, flicking the knot undone until your hands fall to the pillow, and you release a grateful whimper.

You move to reach for him – desperate to feel his warm skin or the soft curls atop his head – but he’s already a step ahead.

He brings your fingers to his mouth and presses his lips to each knuckle. Over and over as you grin and watch with doe-eyed wonder.

He moves to your wrists. Gently trailing his ginger touch across the tender, red flesh that’s been rubbed raw. He’s so very good. Beautiful and sweet in the kind of way that makes your heart ache.

He runs his hand up and down your side, making sure to remind you that he’s close. He moves onto the mattress just beside you and curls his body toward yours.

In turn, you do the same. Snuggling into his chest, legs tangled with his, and face nuzzled against the butterfly on his stomach.

You hear him breathe out an amused laugh before he’s pressing his palm to your spine to keep you close. “Bee?”

You smile. “Yes, Daddy?”

His heart races against your lips. “Are you okay? Do you feel safe right now? You feel…you feel good?”

You glance up, lashes fluttering with surprise at the hesitant tone of voice. “Of course. I’m always safe with you.”

The relief in his expression nearly explodes across his face as he chews on the inside of his lip. “Yeah?”

You nod quickly. “Mhm. I’m so very happy.”

“Good,” he murmurs, seeming to fight against another grin. “That’s good, baby girl. I always wanna make you happy.”

You giggle again, grateful for his attention now more than ever. “I wanna make you happy, too. Don’t wanna make you mad by being a bad girl.”

You hear him chuckle before he reaches down to lift your head up. “I thought you liked being my bad girl?”

Your brows furrow. “…only when you say it’s okay.”

He smirks a little wider at this, and you wonder what he finds so funny. You’re telling the truth. You just want to do what he says. Just want to behave and make him proud.

“My silly girl,” he hums, landing a quick kiss to your forehead. “You’re always good. Even when you’re bad. Daddy likes you any way you are.”

And it feels as though your heart is going to burst out of your chest. This reassurance that you will always have his affection and care making your insides sparkle. “Promise?”

He nuzzles his nose against your temple.

“Promise, Bee.”

Previous Part:

~ Take Me*

~ Full Teach Me Masterlist

Amazing credit for the beautiful dividers to @firefly-graphics 💞

~ Other Harry Blurbs

~ Full Masterlist

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @onlystylesss28 @winterrays @jessitpwk @aslugforharry @allthelovehes @straightnogayhs @adoringhrry @harrysxcarolina @lillefroe @avasversion @littlelunamoon @harrysgf01 @lexiecamposv @spinningoutwaiting4ya @hs-tpwkrry @vyctorya @b-reads-things @thiyaabs @buckybarnessimpp @whoreforjamesbuckybarnes @cherryluvhobi @mybabyh @xellybellyx @reneemunson @juliatpwk @wolfmoonmusic @buckyssbestgirl @wandasbae616 @imavirginhoe @nuggetdean @chubby-cheek-calum @itsmytimetoodream

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awkwardarmadildo · 1 year

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to add on to the humans are space orcs/earth is the universe's australia, sensing. my therapist has recently explained that its not normal the way i know who and where someone is by their footsteps. not just the sound, but the vibrations. if someone isnt purposely walking on light feet, i can tell who and where they are, even with headphones blaring. imagine a human on a ship and the awe-filled terror itd earn from their non-human crewmates.

edit: ive realized i wasnt clear enough in my intentions. im not saying "if you can tell peoples footsteps apart, youve been ✨️ T R A U M A T I Z E D ✨️ d-(^♡^)-b ". its about the inherent panic in Not hearing the steppies and therefore Not having the time to prepare yourself for whoever might be approaching and essentially being ambushed. also, being able to tell if someone is normalTM, happy, sad, et cetera. the combined terror of not being given time to make oneself "presentable" for whoevers coming, And Also whoever has just seemingly teleported is fucking pissed, which is never good. Anyways, enjoy!!! ＼(^o^)／

Gilith enters the library, searching for Human Raven. They seem to be found most often either here or in one of the many gardens on the ship. Human Alex said he'd likely find them here today.

Gilith pokes his head through the doorway, not seeing Human Raven, but before he can move on, a voice calls out from one of the high-backed chairs decorating the library.

"Hello Lithy, what do you need?"

Gilith sputters, "Wha- Human Raven, how did you know it was me?" Gilith makes his way over to the chair that held Human Raven in a twisted knot that, when Human Raven stood up, would surely leave a horrifying crunch Human Alex had likened to a human candy that exploded in one's mouth.

"You've got some loud stompers, Lithy."

"I do not know what that means, Human Raven."

Raven stands, causing Gilith to flinch at many snaps and crackles of their bones settling into place, and smiles up at his towering form.

"What did you need?"

Gilith notices more and more Human Raven's greetings. He thought maybe they could hear him coming, but they greeted him while wearing ear speakers, the volume so loud, Gilith could hear it from a few feet away.

Humans did not have psychic skills, and the only other human who seemed capable of a preemptive greeting was Human Alex. The two seemed to share all of their off-hours, so maybe that was where he could find his answers.

Gilith scoured the many gardens, stopping just outside of the doorway. He could hear Human Alex and Human Raven chattering to each other, but neither seemed to notice his presence.

In an attempt not to disturb them, he walked with what Human Bea had described as "tip-toes". A challenging feat, considering his round flat feet, but he managed.

Both Human Raven and Human Alex had their backs to him, so he coughed in the same way Human Bea often did to get everyone's attention.

The reaction he got was unexpected when both Human Raven and Human Alex flinched so hard their shoulders seemed to lock.

"My apologies! I didn't mean to startle you," he rushed over, but stopped short when they both flinched again. He recoiled his hand.

"It's ok, Lithy," Raven says, voice slightly choked. "Just give us a sec."

"Oh. Okay." Gilith turned his eyes down.

"What-" Alex started, his voice sounding as though it was rubbed raw. He cleared his throat and tried again. "What can we do for you, Gilith?"

"I did not have anything specific to talk to you about. I wanted to..." he trails off. "I wanted to inform you of the new plants we are picking up at the next trade planet."

Gilith feels his face twist with the lie, but now didn't seem like a good time to ask.

His desire to understand, however, doesn't fade after the incident. It only makes his hunger grow.

Instead of bothering Human Alex or Human Raven, Gilith decides to ask Human Bea, who does not sense him before he greets her.

"Hello, Human Bea."

"Yes, hello, Gilith. Is everything okay?"

"I have question."

Bea tilts her head. "Ask away."

"Are you- humans- able to detect someone before you see them?"

Bea's face softens into an aching sort of frown. "Not naturally."

"What do you mean?"

She takes a breath, seemingly preparing herself. "Well, most people are able to live in a relatively safe place. But some people aren't as lucky. Some people have to memorize the falls of others' feet. It's a learned survival tactic."

"I don't understand," Gilith says, his face wrinkling in confusion.

"Some people aren't safe, so for the ones who weren't born with the good luck of a safe home, they have to know who and where someone is. They have to know if they need to hide or prepare themself. They have to know if they're in danger or not."

Gilith feels his whole body go slack as a wave of sadness washes over him at the memory of Human Raven and Human Alex's reaction to his sudden appearance.

"I have loud stompers."

Bea's face scrunches up as though she's trying not to laugh. "You do. You have safe stompers, too."

#humans are weird #humans are space australians #earth is space australia #humans are space orcs #poor gilith hes just a skrunkily little guy #his skin is a kinesthetic mood ring lmao #space orcs

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acapelladitty · 5 months

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Astarion x Reader: Nightmare

Summary - A short, fic in which Astarion has a very familiar nightmare and has to deal with the fallout. (tw: past abuse/impl. nc)

No, no, no. No! He had escaped. He was past this terrible life.

This couldn't be happe-

"He's yours to use as you see fit." Cazador laughed, his harsh grip of Astarion's coiffed hair burning his scalp with its sheer ferocity and strength. "And he'll be as pliant as a whore. Truly, there is no task which he is unfit to endure because he understands not to disappoint me."

His mind under the utter control of his master, Astarion could only scream his anguish internally as he nodded his consent against his will; his blank expression even going as far as to smile invitingly as his knees pressed into the cold stone of the floor with enough pressure to hurt.

It was a scene so woefully familiar that he could already feel the pains which he would endure over the coming hours. The stretch of his limbs, so overwrought that the slightest tension would snap the strong bone. The agony of being ripped apart, again and again as he were used as a common whore, a plaything for his masters whims. The tearing of his abused throat as it welcomed whatever was to be thrust within in as his lips unwilling fluttered with lustful encouragements and desperate pleas for more.

Always more.

With his masters open blessing, the small envoy of men descended upon him like ravenous wolves set loose upon a particularly defenceless sheep. They did not fear his strength, nor his fangs, as they saw him for what he was. Truly, he was unaware of which master they served but whatever news they had brought to Cazador was enough to please him into providing his favoured pet for their free use as thanks.

Besides, he had dared to question a direct order from his master and a transgression like that, a crime so great could not go unpunished.

Something raw snapped free of his throat as one of the men pushed his knees apart until the bones creaked and ached; the cadence of the noise was one which could easily be mistaken for the lust he was being forced to perform, like a marionette with its unseen strings toiling away, but as Cazador met his eye, Astarion could feel his masters glowing satisfaction at his hidden distress.

His cock moved involuntarily, growing hard under their rough strokes and calloused hands as scalding bile rose in his throat before being forced back down with desperate swallows. Naked as a babe, his pale skin was dull in the dim lighting as his hands remained pinned uselessly by his side.

In a blink, he was forced backwards the strength of the throw knocked the wind from his lungs. The livid scarring which encompassed the pale skin of his back pressed roughly against the stone, every small movement which disturbed it making it feel like he was being flayed alive anew as the first of the men reached for the latch of their trousers.

"Astarion." A sharp voice pulled him from his terrors with a violent start as his anxiety spiked at the sudden intrusion. Without thought, his mind still fighting against the violent ghosts of his past, his clawed fingers lashed out, finding instant satisfaction in the sensation of tearing flesh as he thrashed against the fabric of the thin bedroll which housed him.

He would never go back.

He would endure a thousand deaths before being brought to heel once more.

It was only when a familiar scent hit him, the sweet allure of the blood that had recently become his only ongoing source of sustence that his eyes snapped open in an instant, banishing his tormentors fully to the shadows of his mind.

In that same moment, he was confronted with the blurred face of his beloved as they gazed down at him, their body kneeling off to his side. A hand was messily clutched at their face, palm only just able to stem the trickling blood which flowed from the fresh set of gashes which his sharp nails had scored through them.

"Astarion!" They called again, voice urgent as a soft hand pressed against his chest to both center and calm him down. "It's me. Only me. And you're safe - you're safe here with me." The words were familiar and hushed, a respectful desire to not alert the others in camp to the situation at hand fully at war with their obvious desire to make him see reason before he could harm anyone further.

"My love?" He muttered, his hands retracting to his own chest as though scalded by what they had clearly done - the harm they had brought to the one who had only shown him kindness. "What in the hells- what ha-"

"You were having a nightmare." Pulling their hand from their face, shame lanced Astarion's heart like a spear as he surveyed the extent of the damage his enhanced strength had carved through their lovely skin. Even through the allure of the spilled blood, fresh bile rose in his throat as the tension in his body refused to dissipate.

"I was? Oh, that seems unlikely. Probably an overreaction on your part, darling."

Even to his own ears, his voice sounded strained and at least an octave higher than it should have as he quickly deflected from his own perceived weakness. His chest felt painfully cold as his body attempted to curl in further on itself, phantom pains ghosting along his skin like a thousand tiny needles piercing him all at once with his many weaknesses and failings.

Refusing to rise to the bait, he couldn't bear to look his love in the eye as guilt stole the breath from his lungs. Not that he had never drawn their blood before, but like this? Something hot tickled at his eyes and he rapidly blinked away the onset of shameful tears which threatened him.

He was better than this.

"Would you like a story?"

A gentle hand placed itself on his forehead, allowing him to adjust to the touch as he tilted his head almost imperceptibly into it. It was an unspoken acknowledgement of his struggles, an acceptance that he didn't quite understand but found himself depserate to cling to in his weaker moments.

Eyes clamped shut, Astarion refused to open them as his head nodded in one swift, sharp movement.

In an instant, a warm body slipped down to join him on his bedroll, their side touching his enough that he could initiate as much contact as he could accommodate or tolerate while he settled in to listen to the offered story with deep, steadying breaths.

"A few years back, I was travelling by a little village very similar to the one we just passed through-"

#astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate astarion #baldurs gate #astarion fic #neil newbon #bg astarion

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semischarmed · 5 months

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Stuffing

The Thanksgiving holiday was always your favorite. Much like the turkey they often ate, people made for great stuffing candidates. For one, they often ate large meals that night, and the fittest among them used the morning after to exercise away coma-inducing meal from the night before. These aspects made for the perfect conditions to make a body far more pliable than normal. “Stuffing a turkey” was not something you did often, nor something you took lightly. Conditions needed to be perfect, mass to account for, compatibility, the works. Of course, this year seemed to be a good year for an upgrade. And you knew just who.

Ryan was a menace at the local gym, often taking pictures of new members just trying to improve their lifestyle to playback later and ridicule with his buddies. He had of course been confronted about it, but so far everything had been unsubstantiated, so the most he’d gotten were the near constant disapproving looks from the other regulars. In other words, his reign of terror remained unpunished. To add to the injustice, the man seemed to thrive off the hate anyway and it didn’t help that his cousin owned the place.

- - -

“What the fuck!?” He screamed at the sight of you in his bathroom as he had just stripped out of his dank gym clothes. From the smell permeating the air, and the weary look in his eye, you could tell he had just come home from a workout. Delicious.

“Your cousin Vinnie let me in, he said to come for a good time.” You stated plainly.

Ryan dropped his duffel to the floor, running towards you until you were pinned up to the wall near his bed by his meaty arms. You couldn’t help but lick your lips in the strength brimming from his sweat-slick biceps.

“I ain’t gay, fa-“

You plant a kiss into his mouth to shut him up, leaving a little piece of yourself burrowing into him.

He caught himself smiling inexplicably. He looked at the trail of saliva from his mouth to your perverse smile and nearly gagged as he backed up to his bed. Raw disgust turned red, as you could only see a boiling, fuming anger beneath his icy blues.

You were unfazed.

“Oh Ryan… of course we are”. You hummed as you began to exert what small control you had in that piece inside him to prevent him from running away. It wasn’t much, and you mostly relied on the shock to keep him in position, but it had been enough.

He looked at you, watching in horror as you liquefied your hands into a slick mass of flesh. You smile in turn.

“I can’t wait stuff you like a turkey… but what’s a turkey without some gravy?”

He began to protest, before quickly closing his eyes in a moan of displeasure, as a small tendril of your flesh began flowing into his piss slit.

You watched as more and more of your pulsating meaty tendrils, slick with your sweat, inched into the thick dick of the man that would become your turkey. Caught halfway between pleasure and revulsion, Ryan gripped his sheets to get his bearings.

“B-bro!” He whined.

“Don’t worry Ry, pretty soon you’ll be thanking me”. You playfully chime back.

It was uniquely violating for the man, feeling writhing flesh burrow into an orifice that normally only let stuff out. He yelped as you hooked your tendril into his body, abruptly stopping your advance. Now came the fun part.

Ryan willed himself still, dick still bound to you and not wanting to disturb his momentary peace. Nervous eyes follow your widening smile as the next set of your fleshy tendrils now ran down the outside of the athlete’s cock.

“Oh f-fufufuuuck” he blurted out in a drawn moan. Like a perverse sleeve, your slimy tendrils encapsulate over his dick, and you made sure to dial up the pleasure by having them vibrate rhythmically.

You catch glimpses of horror in between unbelievable pleasure. Then, another emotion. Shame.

“Oh.. don’t look so guilty Ry, this feels good doesn’t it? What’s so wrong about that?” You tease. You knew his brain was working overtime so trying to fish out a response from the pleasure drunk jock was useless. You continue as if he had protested. “You feel good. To me- over me. I make you feel good, you make me feel good. Ryan, I think we’re a match made in heaven.”

You can tell the titillation reached it’s peak when Ryan’s beautiful blue eyes rolled to the back of his head in a unwanted pleasure while he half-screamed. He slammed his head back and forth onto his pillow, as if each pump was lick an electrical shock. At last, tearful eyes roll back into focus, starting at you before looking away in shame as you felt Ryan’s batter rocket out, pushing the tendril you had inside him out .

Ryan collapsed into his bed, heaving from the experience. You saw him force his satisfied smile down, ashamed by the whole experience. You stroke the side of his face, not caring that a bit of his own juices were basting his cheek.

“Oh Ryan… you’re gonna feel so good once you’re nice and stuff- can you imagine it? Experiencing that kind of pleasure every day?”

As much of a jerk as the guy was, you couldn’t help but love the taste of his seed. It tasted-no, felt potent. Like his concentrated essence had been distilled into his milky white. The slight saltiness, the raw musk. You almost lost yourself in the testosterone oozing from every drop.

You went to work quickly, as Ryan was still reeling from the experience. You began mashing and grinding his seed, the post-workout sweat now coating some of you, your own sweat, and the bit of saliva from earlier into a dangerous concoction. You loved the feeling. Integrating some of Ryan into you like added flavor. It wasn’t the first time you’ve stuffed a turkey, but Ryan was definitely on a league of his own. This was the first time you could finally get into someone like him, and even just the act of meshing the bit of his flavor into yourself was its own pleasure. You took a quick whiff. Heaven.

Ryan finally began to speak again, only managing to let out a “Bro-FUCK” as you completely destabilized into a meaty mass and shot up his other orifice. Ry thrashed as he gripped his ass in pain, slamming against his headboard multiple times as he tried in vain to fight, to leave… to do anything beyond succumbing to you. He hyperventilated as most of your mass was already inside, trying to fight the intense bloating sensation and the persistent need to gag you out. His legs curled and uncurled, kicking into his sheets as he huffed and grunted. You reasoned you may have miscalculated your current size, as from within you could tell, he was too full to even make any words. He cried as his body swallowed nearly every inch of you, passing out when the last bit of you sloshed in and his ass-cheeks puckered shut, sealing you inside. Deep in his flesh, you began to bore into any space that would let you, poking and prodding every inch of Ryan and spreading from his innards to the rest of him like a root.

The hard part was over. Ryan awoke, sore and groggy. Instinctively, he got up from his bed before he froze. That simple action made you moan on the spot, as the parts of you in between his muscle fibers were squeezed, and began squirming, squeezing some of Ryan in turn. Like a sponge, you felt those parts soak him up and vice versa. Ryan must have felt it as well, as he began to walk to the mirror carefully, taking care to move as little as possible. It must have felt violating, hearing your voice emanate from deep within his body, and feeling his limbs grow sluggish, as you felt Ryan moan back “please… please get out of me…”

Like a muscle within a muscle, you flexed, moving Ryan’s limbs against his will and positioning him to the mirror. His lips quivered as he began to smile, and his mouth opened while you spoke out from deep within him. “No can do Ry-“ You force his meaty arms to pat his bloated stomach- a move that forced another involuntary gag out of Ryan. The quick movement brought you pleasure, extracting and absorbing and blurring the lines between your two bodies. His head shook as his tearful eyes stared back, mouth opening again for your next message. “I bet you can feel how permanent this is”.

Ryan’s clumsy hands shook as they brought themselves up to his chest, rotating in circular motions as you took pleasure in spreading his gym-sweat all over his pecs. His eyes focused as he tried to wrangle control back of his bod,y neurons firing as he willed himself into a punch to his cheek. The pain sent you both reeling, and you decided to slip tendrils deeper, pulling on more of Ryan’s muscle fibers.

You also brought the parts of your flesh into his brain, slipping and twisting your folds into his. This particular action brought Ry’s hands involuntarily clutching the sides of his head in pain as he felt you penetrate into his own psyche, and wrap yourself in it. In an instant, all sings of struggle stopped and Ryan’s hands slung down to his side. Ocean blue eyes, shimmering with tears of the previous struggle blinked back, and a deranged smile painted his face. Like the eye of a vast hurricane, there was an eerie stillness to your perfected control. You stretch Ryan’s psyche over your face like a mask.

“Ry… bro… I told ya- no can do” Ryan felt his body state playfully. In speech, mannerisms, Ryan watched in horror as you perfectly mimicked him, save for the shadow of your satisfaction reflected his face. He felt himself stick his tongue out in tease, hands gently caressing each pec before smiling in a demented pleasure. His fingers circled each nipple, causing them to grow hard. In true defilement, Ryan felt his very mind betray him, as your thoughts wore his like a suit. “Ryan, bro… we’re one.” It was sickening feeling his own mind reflect your pleasure. Ryan felt his fingers pinch his hard nipples, laughing in euphoria.

Even from just breathing through him, you could tell this body was in top shape. You towered over the room like a giant, feeling power brimming over ever piece of his musclebound flesh. Ryan’s face pulls uncharacteristically into your smile, eyes fluttering up in pleasure as his meaty bicep is pulled up next to his nose. You stick your nose to his damp pits, reeking from his past workout. In your head, your hear him scream as you use Ryan’s nose to inhale his own scent. He continued wailing when he felt his own brain think out your words, and his own lips and vice gently grunt. “You smell so fucking good bro”.

And then, Ryan felt the unexpected. You remove your face from his psyche, pulling your some of tendrils back into the core of his body and Ryan felt some semblance of control of his body return. Like a true athlete, he immediately took advantage of the opening, firing his neurons, and using sheer musculature to wrestled you for control. You manage to retain only his mouth, opening it wide again to speak from inside him.“ I like it when you fight”. He hears you speak to him and his face shivers as you manage out a wink before he resumes control.

Ryan panted, collapsing again in exhaustion as you slept peacefully inside him, protected by his very flesh. At some point, you’ll have him take all his muscle and mind and wring you out like a sponge, squeezing and squeezing you into himself until you became every aspect of Ryan. And at some point, you might “Ryan” might find and stuff a new turkey. But, this new body was virile, and making him wrestle with his own stuffing for control was its own exquisite pleasure. For now, this stuffed turkey was perfect just the way he was.

- - -

====

Just a quick post-Thanksgiving bite.

#male possession #male body control #male puppet #male corruption #male merge #male takeover

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amhrosina · 11 months

Text

It's Always Been You

Summary: You and Miguel are forced to confront your feelings for one another after a dangerous mission goes awry.

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara (Spider-Man 2099) x fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.9k

masterlist // join my taglist // follow me on instagram & ao3

a/n: i cannot stop thinking about this man ohmygod anyways im overwhelmed by the love being shown for my other miguel fic and cant wait to add more to this community!!! thank you!!! (should i do a part two with smut? like friends to lovers first time?? lemme know <;3)

warnings: friends to lovers, arguing, some angst, love confessions!!!!!, reader calls miguel a name, idiots in love tbh, references to a dangerous situation (but no details i kept it super vague lol), starts to get a little suggestive at the end but is like 99% fluff

Miguel was ignoring you. Not in the usual, self-brooding, grumpy way he sometimes did when he was having a bad day, but in the way that told you he was furious with you. Anger had been radiating off of him in waves since your chaotic return to Nueva York a few hours earlier, and you, along with every other Spider-person at headquarters, was avoiding his workspace like the plague. It wasn’t like you hadn’t tried to console him, but you knew, probably better than anyone, that when Miguel wanted to brood, he would. You would try again later, and eventually you’d make him laugh, and the world would right itself again. It always did.

Spider-Woman huffed, plopping into the seat next to yours in the cafeteria, slamming her tray down hard enough to knock your tablet on its side. Clearly, she was upset about something.

“Is everyone pissed off today?” You asked indignantly.

She glared at you, shoving a bite of sandwich in her mouth before answering.

“Miguel’s being pissy.” She glared at you. “And it’s your fault.”

“I can’t imagine why. We got the guy, didn’t we?”

“We both know what you did was reckless.” Her glare intensified, and your annoyance shifted to guilt. It was a reckless move, but it worked.

“He was being torn to shreds. I did what any of us would’ve done. If he has a problem, he can come talk to me about it instead of hiding from all of us like a teenager.”

Her gaze softened. “He has a lot on his plate.”

“So?” You combatted, annoyed all over again.

“So, I think maybe what happened today scared him, and he doesn’t know how to process his feelings about it.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You shrugged, refusing to meet her gaze.

“You’re his best friend, and he almost lost you today. Go talk to him.” She suggested, patting your shoulder. “I think it’ll do everyone some good. And I do mean everyone. He’s scary when he’s mad.”

You shrugged her off, finishing your dinner in silence. If Miguel was so pissed, why couldn’t he come talk to you about it? Why, after years of knowing each other, were you still the one approaching him with an apology? Why couldn’t he just say what he meant for once?

But of course, after you finished your dinner and realized, hopelessly, that the only person you wanted to see was, in fact, Miguel, you huffed and began the trek to his office, where you knew he’d still be brooding.

The tension in the building had lessened after many of the spider-people had returned to their own universes, glad to get away from the uncomfortable elephant in the room, but that didn’t stop your stomach from clenching when you rounded the corner into Miguel’s dim, untidy workspace.

He was hunched over his desk, scribbling something down on a piece of paper. From your position, you had a clear view of the damage that had been done to his back earlier that day. You winced, thinking back to the few seconds of absolute terror you’d experienced when you’d seen the anomaly tearing into Miguel’s skin. The claw marks had already healed a little, now just raw, nasty looking scratches down the curve of his spine.

He turned at the sound of your footsteps, though he had likely heard you coming since you stepped foot out of the cafeteria. Anger flickered in his cold gaze, but he was still here, decidedly not hiding from you, which was a good sign. You stepped into the workspace, setting the extra food you’d bought for him down before fully turning to face him.

“Hey.” You murmured. “Brought you some dinner.”

His gaze flicked from your awkward stance to the box of food on the table. “Thanks.”

Short. Blunt. To the point. You sighed.

“You’re still mad, then?” You asked, crossing your arms.

“Are you saying I shouldn’t be mad at the stunt you pulled today?” He glared, standing to his full height and towering over you.

“I’m saying you shouldn’t be mad at me for saving your life, asshole.” You looked up at him, refusing to back down.

“I had it under control. It was my anomaly to handle.” His nostrils flared with anger.

You threw your hands up indignantly. “It was our anomaly to handle, and I handled it just fine! In case you don’t remember, I was good enough at handling myself to be recruited by you for this stupid team!”

“What you did was incredibly stupid. The anomaly could have killed you. Don’t you get that?”

“The anomaly was killing you. I did what I thought was best-”

“Exactly. You did what you thought was best and didn’t think once about the team. You risked an entire universe to show off!” He cut you off, slamming his hands on the desk on either side of you, effectively cornering you.

Your voices had risen considerably since your initial arrival, and you were now inches apart, screaming at each other.

“To show off?” You pushed at his enormous chest, vision blurred with a mixture of tears and anger. “I risked an entire universe to protect you, you asshole! Everything I do is to protect you.”

He grabbed your wrists, easily stopping your arms from pushing him again.

“You could have died.” He grunted, squeezing your wrists.

“Why do you even care, Miguel? The anomaly was taken care of, just like it always is. We’ll go take care of another one tomorrow, just like we always do.”

“Because I love you, obviously!” He yelled, releasing his grip on you and taking a full step backwards. Stunned into silence, neither of you said anything for a full ten seconds. He began pacing in front of you, hands on his hips, breathing heavily as the magnitude of what he’d just revealed fully hit him. He paused when he heard you sniffle, and began speaking.

“I love you. Can’t you see that?” He asked, stepping close to you. Tears welled in your eyes, and you couldn’t bear to look up at him for fear that it might be a dream, or worse, a cruel trick of his. “I care because I love you, and I almost lost you. I-” he swallowed thickly, “I almost lost it when I realized what you were doing. And when we couldn’t find you after? That was the worst thirty seconds of my life.” He shook his head, clearing the thoughts from his mind. “I can’t lose you. Do you understand that? You’re mine. I can’t lose you, baby.”

You finally lifted your chin, meeting his gaze. He tentatively cradled your cheeks, wiping away the stray tears that had snuck down your face during his speech.

“I love you, too.” You murmured, nuzzling into his palm. “But you can’t expect me to just watch while you’re being torn to shreds. I had to do something.”

He nodded, though it clearly pained him to agree with you about it. “I know. And I know you can handle yourself. I’m sorry for getting so angry, but you have to understand that your safety is the most important thing to me when we go chasing after anomalies. And I know that it should be saving the universes that we’re in, but it’s not. It’s you, and it’s always been you. Don’t ask me to change that. It will always be you.”

You blinked up at him in stunned silence, nodding. You couldn’t remember when your feelings for Miguel had shifted to something beyond friendly, but you’d never before allowed yourself the fantasy of him loving you in return. It was something you’d come to terms with months ago, accepting that you’d never get to hold him the way he deserved to be held. But now he was standing with you, holding you, begging you to understand that all of his anger has been out of pure, unselfish love for you.

“I won’t ask you to change that.” You conceded, a small grin forming on your face, “As long as you promise to at least try to stay out of harm’s way.”

“I promise, but you know harm seems to seek me out no matter what.” His grin mirrored the one on your face. He shifted his head down, stopping only centimeters away from your lips. “If I asked you to kiss me right now, would you?”

“That depends.” You breathed, heart thundering in your chest. “Are you going to be this dramatic every time I save your ass, O’Hara?”

He chuckled, cradling your head in his massive hands. “Maybe. Yes. Definitely.”

You shrugged, nodding. “Okay.”

“Okay?” He asked, eyes flicking between your gaze and your lips.

“Okay.” You bobbed your head once and then leaned in.

He captured your lips in an earth-shattering kiss, exploring every inch of what you offered to him eagerly. His hands roamed the length of your body, pulling you fully against his heated skin. You melted into him, pliable to his every whim and desire, going exactly where he wanted you to go, doing exactly what he wanted you to do. Heat coiled in your entire body, poised to erupt at the slightest touch he offered. You reached forward, tugging at the material around his waist. If he wasn’t inside of you soon, you thought you might explode. His hands wandered below your waistband, too, eager to please.

A loud clunking sound from around the corner had you springing apart, panting, overheated, and completely high off one another’s touch. It wasn’t that you were embarrassed to be seen kissing Miguel. In fact, you were planning on kissing him at every moment possible, if he’d let you. It was the fact that you’d very nearly allowed him to strip you naked and have his way with you in his very public office. He seemed to be thinking the same thing, coming to his senses and adjusting the uncomfortable looking bulge in his pants as the sound of footsteps grew nearer.

“Miguel, you’re going to be in an even worse mood if you don’t just go talk to her. I mean, really, you’re both acting like idiots and clearly love each oth- oh!”

Spider-Woman came into view, waving her hands frantically and then doing her very best to hide the smile growing on her face. You shifted your feet awkwardly, trying your best to look like you hadn’t had Miguel’s tongue shoved down your throat ten seconds earlier. Miguel, as stoic and unperturbed as ever, had simply bent down and returned to scribbling on the paper from earlier, which made you involuntarily scowl. He always looked so cool. It was annoying.

“Am I…interrupting something?” Spider-Woman asked, smirking. Clearly, you weren’t doing a great job hiding anything from her.

“What was that you were saying when you came in? Something about my mood?” Miguel asked, lifting his gaze to hers.

“Oh, nothing!” She grinned, turning on her heels and leaving the room as fast as she had entered it.

Miguel looked at you, suddenly shy now that you were alone together again. “Wanna bet how long it’ll be before she spills the beans to someone about us?”

You barked a laugh. “I’ll give you my entire paycheck if she hasn’t announced it to someone already.”

Tag List:

@foxglove-grove @lavnderluv @khaleesihavilliard @alexxavicry @hallecarey1 @km-ffluv @chiaraxtargaryen @trulylavandedarling @D0wnbad @deliciousfestsalad @lilyevans1 @imagineadream @22carolina08 @definitelynotsugar @casualchaoticdevil @peachy-flxwr @nashja @xshewayout @blep--bloop @kpopgirlbtssvt @aynsleywalker @queenofthenoobs @ostricx @horrorflix @anthonymackiehasmyheart

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somerandomdudelmao · 8 months

Note

CASSEROLE I HAVE RETURNED AND WITH A FIC THAT I THINK YOU’LL ENJOY OKAY THANKS

still don’t know how to add cuts in asks/reblogs so we’ll deal with some empty space again ig

Leo awoke with a senseless, overwhelming FEAR rooted deep within his gut. He sat upright in bed, his leg still aching from the beating he took in the Prison Dimension, but he knew that wasn’t what he was worried about. He started looking around, his eyes wide and red with terror. In the end, he was unable to find what he was looking for.

But then, all of a sudden, with no prompting whatsoever, fear turned into a DESPERATION so LOUD AND PAINFUL that Leo thought he would be crushed underneath it. It was a feeling unlike any other, an emotion he’d only felt once before, and it was CRUSHING him!

And for some odd, unbelievable reason, it all centered around Donatello.

His Twin.

Leo didn’t even give himself the time to think on it any longer. He just ran out of bed as fast as his still aching legs would go! He opened the door to his train car, almost ran right past Donnie’s because he’s still not used to the new layout of his brand new forever-home, but quickly corrected himself before getting to the kitchen and ran back towards Donnie’s room.

When he finally arrived, Donnie was already on his feet. He seemed frazzled, dazed even, by something that wasn’t even there.

And by god, Leo felt exactly the same way.

The two were inseparable within an instant.

Leo crashed into Donnie’s plastron immediately, making the two turtles crash back onto the soft-shell’s bed. The lack of retribution towards the sudden physical contact on Donnie’s end made the bubbling anxiety within Leo’s chest tighten, constricting on his lungs and making it hard to breathe. Leo tried to fight it back, because he knew that Donnie felt the same way, but it only led him to a new feeling he hadn’t yet felt. A feeling of loneliness, of grief, of being lost and worried he’d never be found…!

Nope. Wait, scratch that, he has felt this feeling before…

But for some reason, it’s worse this time…

Leo’s chest ACHED so so much with all these new, unprompted emotions that just came out of NOWHERE, and so he just… Cried. He cried into Donnie’s shoulder, tightened his grip on his twin, and just barely managed to lift the weight in his heart by a little bit. Slowly but surely, after what felt like an eternity, Leo’s tears slowed, his exhaustion from just being woken up taking up the space that the emotions left behind. Until eventually, there was nothing left to feel except an insurmountable emptiness and exhaustion.

The red-eared slider didn’t want to let go of his twin just yet, didn’t wanna leave the only proof of his very existence, but he knew the hug had to end at some point. So, with a heavy heart, Leo began to let go.

But Donnie, despite everything, still clung desperately to Leo’s body, muttering words that Leo couldn’t hear. His voice was a whisper, a desperate and sad version of a voice that Leo had grown to adore. It wasn’t the voice of exasperation or the voice of annoyance, no. It was the voice of longing and desperation… A voice that did not belong to Donatello in the slightest.

“Tello…?” Leo murmured into his twin’s shoulder, his own voice raw from the tears he’d just shed. “Are you good?” He didn’t get an immediate response, so he just hugged harder.

“I feel like…” Donnie suddenly began, his voice still quiet and sad. Leo tuned his ears so he could listen intently, not wanting to miss a single syllable. Because… What an odd way for Donnie to start a sentence. “Feels like you left and never came back.” Donnie said. “L-like you died or something, and that you were gone for years! Then I woke up and you were with me again, but something was still missing, and then you just… Then it clicked back.”

Oh. So that’s what that feeling was.

“I feel the same way.” Leo supplied carefully. His head was beginning to hurt from the sudden swell of emotions, but he pushed the pain away for the time being.

And then suddenly, before Leo had time to even process what the hell just happened, Donnie’s grip loosened and his head plonked onto his shoulder heavily. He didn’t just immediately fall asleep, but the turtle looked TIRED AS ALL HELL. Poor guy was probably awake all night again! So Leo did what any Good Samaritan would do and carefully set Donnie to bed, not wanting to touch his shell and warrant an unprompted panic attack. But just as he was about to leave Donnie to sleep, his twin grabbed ahold of his wrist and didn’t let go.

“I JUST- I want to be sure that you’ll still be here. My cameras were ruined in the attack last month and I haven’t gotten around to fixing the ones in your room yet, so I just… I-I need to-“

“Donnie, if you wanted a Twin Cuddle, you could’ve just said so!” Leo giggled half heartedly, the smile on his face feeling more like a grimace. “Now move over you big log!”

“Shut up, Dum-Dum.”

Idk how to end this so we’ll leave it there ig. This was inspired by a previous ask similar to this where they wrote in brackets that the present twins just spontaneously felt the same way as the future twins. Thanks for that little burst of inspiration!

and thanks to Cass for making the comic and for existing and for murdering my feelings it makes me feel great kthxbye-

OOOOOOHH THIS IS INTERESTING

#fic tag #cftl #rottmnt #ah I love this one #such a creative way of showing the events from the last episode

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wynnyfryd · 6 months

Text

Trailer park Steve AU part 9

part 1 | part 8 | ao3

cw: medical emergency

He ditches his car at the top of the street, runs the rest of the way because there are too many people standing around — a small crowd of onlookers clustered at the bottom of the lane, gawking in their sleep shirts and flannels like the world isn’t trying to end for a fourth time. Fifth? He can’t keep track. He can’t even think, numb to everything but the pounding of his shoes against the pavement, the sirens wailing in his ears, the steady prayer in his pulse not her not now not both—

“Mom?” he shouts, voice cracking and raw. “Mom!!”

“It’s not for her.”

There’s a hand against his chest then, heel of a palm pressed to his sternum, and he slams into it like a brick wall. The air burns in his lungs; he can’t focus his eyes. “Wh-what?” he gets out, voice shaking, throat thick. Cold terror drools down his sweaty neck like the breath of a hungry monster. He’s a little kid again, swept up in the mayhem of a crowded mall. Where’s his mom; where’s his mom?

“Your mom’s in my house.” The voice is deep and slow, the hand flexing against his shirt. Fingers splayed. Heavy rings.

“…E-Eddie?” Steve’s vision swims, going yellow and purple then tunneling down to black, deep water filling his ears. Nothing makes any sense. “Munson, what—?”

“Your mom’s in my house,” he repeats like a mantra. Like a lighthouse in the fog, voice rumbling and sure. “She’s safe. She’s fine. You’re hyperventilating; take a breath.”

His breath is still catching quick and high in his throat, little puffs of cold mist. Can you drown in cold air? Can it condense inside your chest?

Eddie grips his shoulder, snaps his fingers in Steve’s face. “Hey. Hey, Steve? Come on, man, look at me. Steve. Look at me.”

Steve meets his gaze like the tide drawn to the moon.

“Deep breath,” he demonstrates, sucking air through an invisible straw, letting his chest and belly swell. Steve copies him until his vision starts to clear, until his heartbeat starts to calm. "That's it," Eddie tells him. "Good. Yeah, there we go."

Some hysterical part in the back of his brain wants to laugh. To start and never stop, just laugh and laugh and laugh until his fucking head explodes.

When he can breathe again, he pants weakly, “What is going on?”

Eddie guides him to a picnic table on the outskirts of the crowd, and they perch on top of it with their feet planted on the bench. The air feels calmer here.

Steve takes another breath.

Eddie points to the single-wide right next to Steve’s. “The wagon’s for your neighbor,” he grimaces in sympathy, one eye squinting shut as he cocks his head at Steve. “Ernie. You know him?”

“Mm.” Ernie Gerwitz. Late 60s, a widower with liver spots and arthritis in both hands. Bad heart, worse drinking habit. Fucking hates Steve’s mom because she backed over his begonias. “Not well.”

They didn’t interact much beyond an occasional neighborly nod, although Steve did once earn the guy’s good graces by yelling at Misty while shooing her off with a rake. (‘Little bitch left me a whole damn weasel last year,’ he’d grumbled as he stooped to pick up the newspaper. ‘Can't shoot her, though, 'cause she scares away the possums.’) And now…

Steve can’t make out much from here, just the shape of a four-man stretcher being carried out the door, strobe light streaks in his vision as the EMTs load up the van.

“Is he…” Steve gulps, clasping his hands between his knees. He doesn’t want to ask this question. The words taste moldy in his mouth. “Is he dead?”

Eddie’s hand shakes a little when he drags it down his cheek. His answer comes on a wobbly sigh, an almost melodic quality to the tension in his voice. “No-o idea, man. Your, uh, your mom, ya know, she— She found him. In, um. In the yard." "Jesus." "Said he was just, like... lying there. In the grass.” Eddie stares off into the distance like he’s seeing it right now; makes a wet clucking sound as his bottom lip quivers. “Thinks it was, a- a heart thing, or something? Shit, I don’t know. She was pretty freaked out when she knocked on my door.”

Steve can't picture it. He hasn’t seen her express a single true emotion since July.

A hesitant hitch of breath, and Eddie chews on his next words, tapping a hand against his thigh. “She’s, uh... she’s… calmer now. Or. At least-”

Steve rolls his eyes, knows exactly where this is going. Eddie tries again: “I mean, she seemed like-”

“Like a fucking zombie?” Steve supplies.

“Yeah,” Eddie huffs, a nervous laugh of relief. You said it, man, not me. There’s something serious in his gaze, something curious and searching.

Something almost kind. Steve shrinks away from it like a vampire in the sun. Go on, he wants to say, ask about the fucking pills. Wants to goad him into a fight, some mean, sharp thing inside him itching to see someone else bleed.

Steve bites his tongue until he tastes metallic tang. Copper covering mildew; fresh bloom coating decay. He swallows hard, lets them both slide down his throat — blood and ghosts, life and death. The River Styx must taste like pennies.

The siren starts again, and Eddie groans and hangs his head. “Christ," he murmurs to the dirt, “Wayne’s gonna be so bummed.”

They both watch in silence as the ambulance goes by.

—

part 10

okay same deal tagging whoever commented yesterday (if your settings will let me) you’re all delightful tysm 😘 @paintsplatteredandimperfect @thefreakandthehair @slutforcoffein @manda-panda-monium @munsonfamilybandalso @aliea82 @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple @lololol-1234 @hotluncheddie @pennyplainknits @disrespectedgoatman @carolinachickadee @insideiscold @acedorerryn @anne-bennett-cosplayer @violetsteve my actual wife blessings upon your house @lighthousebeams @steves-strapcollection @sirsnacksalot @stevesbipanic @slowandsteddie @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @so-get-this-sammy @annabanannabeth @runninriot @cuips-not-cute @a-little-unsteddie @envyadams-vs-me @ppunkpuppyy if i forgot anyone i’m sorry i am very sleep deprived

#trailer park steve au #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #st fic #my writing #my fic

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ozzgin · 7 months

Note

I love your work! It is so hard to find good Baki writers. Could you please do a Yujiro x Female fighter reader. I feel like Yujiro would actually start falling head over heels with a reader who fights well and is as sadistic as him.

Thank you! And yes, realistically speaking - or at least what makes most sense in my opinion - Yuujirou would go for someone that not only is submissive to him (because any human would then suffice), but also shows impressive skill and strength. There’s an interesting idea that I once read in the introduction of “The Gates of Janus”, the book written by serial killer Ian Brady. The foreword author argued that Ian is what you’d call a rat king, an alpha above most alphas, and that for such personalities, most of the time, an equally dominant woman is sought for as a partner. Naturally she’d submit to him still, but only a woman of high dominance could keep up with this kind of intense character. This mentality felt a bit outdated and potentially misogynistic to me, but I think it really fits in the case of Yuujirou. Sorry for the ramble.

Yandere! Yuujirou Hanma x Fighter! Reader

Featuring The Ogre and a female reader that nearly matches him in strength and ruthlessness. TW: Dubious consent, violence.

[Baki Masterlist]

Yuujirou can have anyone in the world, whether man or woman. It’s not up to them, really. It’s up to his mood and whims. And when he can have just about anyone, actually finding someone worth his interest becomes a difficult task. He doesn’t need an extra weight to drag around and as far as he’s concerned, commitment is not something he requires in his life. What would be the point?

No, for someone of his status, commitment doesn’t come as moral etiquette or requirement for a relationship. He has considered it, and in theory it could only be offered out of his genuine interest and never demanded by someone else. For The Ogre himself to fixate on one person and never wander eyes anywhere else… They would really have to impress him. Guarantee him that this is a one time deal never to be found again. And once that person is found, they’d do well to perform their role as his partner because there is no way out of it.

Lamentably, such temptation has never crossed his path. That is until a feminine figure strides into the ring of the Underground Arena. Yuujirou is ready to burst with laughter, but he’s quickly silenced by the rather abrupt end of the match. The mysterious character remains unfazed by the opponent’s blow and uses the opportunity to swiftly twist and crush the offensive limb. With the same indifference plastered on the face throughout the agonizing wails of the much larger man, she delivers her ending move and within seconds the arena is quiet again. After recollecting himself from this unexpected succession, Yuujirou turns to Strydum that’s been watching with similar amazement. “Who the hell is that?” He grunts. “I don’t know. Should I find out?”

Sometimes Yuujirou will replay the encounter in his head. He still gets shivers of raw excitement whenever he remembers your eyes back then. That utterly defiant glare. Strydum had asked you to meet them in private and as you entered the room, you immediately demanded to know why you’d been summoned. The Colonel begun fumbling in terror, almost begging you indirectly to not upset the redheaded man. “M-Mr. Hanma wished to see you, Miss (Y/N)-“ he was interrupted by your resounding snarl. “And who the fuck is Mr. Hanma to afford such audacity?” At that moment Yuujirou stood up, hands in pockets but visibly tensed up. You instinctively clenched your fists and frowned at the unspoken difference in power. The Ogre was halfway expecting you to fold and apologize, but after a minute your expression relaxed and your confidence returned. “Bitch. You’d rather die than give up your pride, huh?” He smirked at the thought. There was something about your attitude that greatly pissed him off but also turned him on at the same time.

The hardest part is getting you to accept him as your partner. See, Yuujirou will never beg or ask nicely. On the other hand, he’d rather not kill you, and severely damaging you in any way would take away the fun that caught his attention in the first place. That’s the dilemma: you’re stubborn and he can’t use force. Then again it’s not like he’s a mindless brute. Quite the opposite, only if he feels like it. A little charm with a dash of intimidation and you should be convinced, right? Don’t push it, (Y/N). If he really has to choose, he’d rather have you dead than belonging to someone else. It’s either him or nothing.

Really, it’s to your advantage if you learn to behave. He can give you everything you desire. He’s rather experienced in spoiling his women, and for you he’ll go the extra mile. Knowing he tamed you of all people is all the payment he could ever ask for. The satisfaction of putting you in your place, of having you cling to him fills him with greedy pride. A cocky smile distorts his features whenever the realization hits. If there’s such a thing as a soulmate, he’s found his. Although he doesn’t believe in that kind of bullshit.

A frightening pair in the eyes of most people. The Ogre relishes in the fact that displaying you as his woman has further increased his reputation instead of signaling any trace of weakness. As the time passes his conviction only strengthens: there’s no other place for you. You’re all his. Yet his favorite detail, what makes him flushed and dazed and addicted, is that no matter what he does to you as you lay there sprawled, naked, broken, your dignity never leaves. That prideful gaze that leers back at him makes him feel like he’s facing a mirror.

#baki #baki the grappler #baki hanma #baki headcanons #yandere #yandere baki #baki x reader #yujiro hanma #yujiro hanma x reader #yuujirou hanma #hanma yujiro #yandere x reader

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emsgwenstan · 2 months

Text

I need you when I sleep.

Larissa Weems x fem reader. (Angst)

Words: idk like less than 1k? It’s short and sweet.

Warnings: nightmares, mentions of blood and abuse

Note: I really couldn’t be bothered to continue, kinda angsty. (Italics are for the nightmare.)

———

They were taking her, I don’t know who, I don’t know where, but what I did know is that whoever they are dragged Larissa away and they were going to hurt her. I couldn’t move, practically paralysed, I could only scream out to her, I could only plead for them to take me and let her free, but nothing I did could stop the inevitable.

I don’t understand what they want with her, hasn’t she suffered enough? It feels the same as when I found her lying on the cold stone almost lifeless after laurels attack.

I couldn’t bear to have her taken away from me again, the rage accumulated in my veins seemed to take its toll as I retracted enough to completely rip out of their grasp and one by one I slaughtered every one of them with my bare hands, ripping, pulling, scratching and gouging, yet when I ran to her she wasn’t getting any closer, she was so close but not enough for my reach.

Hoards of people came to drag us further apart and I wasn’t strong enough to fight against them all, so slowly, ever so painfully, I watched as they beat her and ripped at her clothes, I saw the way her blood trickled down her face and blemished her porcelain skin. I screamed and screamed and screamed until my throat was raw and stinging. The light and the string of life was barely hanging on by a thread as I saw her tired body no longer struggling.

———

Larissa paced back towards her quarters after sneaking down to the staff room to nick a tea bag and make a hot tea for herself, the insomnia finding hilarity in her drowsy state, she sat in the room scrolling through her phone until the cup was empty, then headed back to her quarters.

However the halls weren’t very quiet for 2:30 in the morning. She could hear yelling that became screaming quickly in the span of 30 seconds, she started to walk faster than turned jogging to the noise, she realised that it was coming from my room, she rapidly knocked on the door but with no answer or pause in the distress she pulled out her keys fumbling to find the master that opens all the doors.

Finally she found it slotting it in the key hole and ripping open the door, the room was dimly lit by a singe candle and the red alarm clocks numbers, she could see my thrashing silhouette in the sheets of my bed and ran to sit on the side of my mattress, Larissa grabbed my sheets and pulled them away for better access. “Shhh darling, you’re alright, come on wake up sweetheart.” She said trying to coax me out of the state. She dragged my body to lay in her lap and gently shake me awake. “No don’t!” I yelled. “Wake up honey! Come on.” She demanded. “Don’t hurt her please!” I screamed. “WAKE UP!” She yelled.

A gasp filled my lungs finally being jerked away from the terror, I looked up to see Larissa’s troubled expression, my body was shaking and exhausted. “Rissa, you’re alright…” I hummed my eyelids blinking slowly. “I’m ok? Y/n…?” Larissa curled her knees up, sat on her hip and elbow peering down at me concerned stroking the sweaty hair from my forehead. “Oh thank goodness.” I sniffed, tears rolling down to temples and into my hair. “You can’t leave me again, you can’t die.” I mumbled into her shoulder. “I’m right here I’m not going anywhere, it was just a very bad dream.” She said cupping my cheek.

After a few minutes I had fallen back to sleep, this was Larissa’s queue to carefully hop off the bed and fetch a cool washcloth from my ensuite to pat down my hot sweat ridden face, neck and shoulders. Gently she folded the cloth and wiped carefully until I lulled awake again. “Please don’t leave.” I whispered with my eyes peeling open just a fraction. “I’m not going anywhere darling.” She lowly spoke back, with my eyes closed again and my hand wrapped around her wrist I said. “I love you, Larissa.” Her eyes widen slightly and her movements are relinquished. Before she could respond I was asleep again.

Larissa discarded the cloth, toed off her flats and removed her floor length robe to get in the bed with me. She didn’t care about keeping her propriety, she didn’t even think twice about how inappropriate it is to share a bed with her employee, because that’s not what I was to her, since the day of her near death Larissa vowed to herself that she would not push me or others away to keep her feelings safe, because if she had in fact died that night what would she have to show for it, no family, no lover, just a home and position she’d leave behind.

Comfortably rested in the sheets Larissa pulls my body closer to hers and ever so softly, she lifts my head to remove the hair from my neck tossing it up against the pillow and guide my neck into the inside of her bicep. Her brows are deeply creased due to the concern, but the longer she looks at my sleeping form it softens, her tense muscles relax, her mind slowly coming to ease. “I love you too, my sweet darling girl.” She whispered, hesitantly she placed a light kiss to my cheek, then finally falling asleep herself.

———

As I rolled over, I noticed that I could feel a dip in the mattress and warmth radiating from right beside me, Larissa. My heart starts racing at the prospect of the woman I love in my bed, asleep in all her glory, my eyes meet her glistening porcelain skin thats illuminated by the streak of sunlight casting over her face from the unclosed curtains. She’s bare of any make up, her usual blood red lips are a soft pink, the scar more evident and more beautiful that wonderfully taints her soft feature, her eyelashes a light blonde completely contrasting to the cobalt blue eyeliner and mascara.

In a moment of confusion I found myself staring at her so intensely that I hadn’t realised she had woken, her eyes fluttering open adjusting to the bright light. “Morning sweetheart.” She said, her voice is deep and laced with sleep, I could feel it vibrate from her chest. “Hi…” I said softly. “Are you feeling alright?” She asked shifting her head out of the sun and onto the pillow I occupied. “I’m fine… what exactly are you doing here?” I asked sheepishly. “You don’t remember?” She asked, her brows furrowing. “I’m afraid not.” I mumbled. Larissa took a big inhale of breath through her nose and stretched her long limbs, as she did so the strap of her silky tan nightgown slipped down her shoulder.

“Early this morning, you were screaming. You had a nightmare and I came in to wake you, it was quite terrifying, I thought you wouldn’t wake… but, you asked me to stay.” She said, her reasons seemed valid, it’s easy to believe the nightmare part especially. “I don’t remember it-… wait.” The memory of the nightmare hit me like a bus, I hadn’t realised I’d been screaming in reality. “Yes, yeah I do actually, it was me and you-… it was awful.” I huffed, I extended my hand and pulled up her strap as if were stoping me from focusing. “I apologise, for the noise, particularly things I might have said… what else did I say?” I asked, pulling the braid from behind her shoulder to trace the pattern in her hair, unconsciously not seeing how intimate this is.

“A few things… you asked for me not to leave you, you were worried I was going to die… tell me, how long have you been having these nightmares?” She asked, tucking the hair in my eyes behind my ear, away from my face. “Since you were attacked. I’ve never been able to get the picture out of my head.” I said. “What do you mean? you saw me?” She asked confused. “Who do you think found you Larissa?” I asked looking directly into her eyes. “I took you to the hospital, I stayed with you every night, every morning, every waking moment of every day, I couldn’t bear for you to be or feel alone.” I said slightly ashamed of how invasive it sounds. “You what?” She asked propping herself on her elbow. “I’m sorry… I was just worried sick, I thought that… never mind.” I said sitting up letting the blanket fall down onto my lap as I covered my face with my hands, rubbing my eyes until I could see kaleidoscopic patterns.

A silence filled the air until it was broken by a whisper. “You said something else last night.” I removed my hand and rapidly blinked for my eyes to readjust. “What?” I asked matching her tone. “You said…” she started, sitting up to be face to face with me. “That you love me… Is that true?” She asked with hopeful eyes. “Yes.” I responded without hesitation. “I thought I would never have been able to tell you that… that I love you, that’s why I was so afraid when you were almost taken away from me… I understand that you don’t feel the same but there’s no sense in denying it, because I do, I love you, so much, and I’m constantly in torment when I sleep because I’m so scared you won’t be with me anymore.” I breathed starting to cry.

Larissa had tears rolling down her cheeks before I finished the statement, she didn’t respond with words, but I knew I was wrong by saying she didn’t feel the same when she took my face in her hands and kissed me gently. “I love you.” She whispered on my lips. “I love you.” She said again. “I need you too.” She said with her lips pressed to mine. Her hands traveled into my hair and my own raised to her neck. Everything felt like it was falling into place.

@sabraaabra @barbarasstar @readingtheentrails

#gwendoline christie #larissa weems #principle weems #wednesday #larissa weems x y/n #gwenchrist(ie)#larissa x reader #wlw fanfic #larissa weems x reader

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inhuman-obey-me · 3 months

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Diavolo with 🕶 and MC please? I excited to see what you’d do with that?

"I saw a little thing I didn’t like you tried to hide." - Diavolo/MC

There is a whistling through the rustle of the tree branches, high-pitched and ringing in your ears like alarm bells.

Just the wind, you try to tell yourself -- but the wind has never sounded so uncannily steady with its song. Nor, usually, do you expect to hear faint words hidden in its screaming -- Die. Die. Die. But that too, surely, is just a trick of your mind?

Well, this is the Devildom, after all. The strange and unexpected are to be expected.

You don't know how to tell your lover, crown prince of this very land, that his realm still unsettles you from time to time. He has always tried his very best to make you comfortable here. He himself is proof that terrors are not always so terrifying. His wings, gilded black and extended so wide that they could have blocked out any sun if one existed here, had terrified you the first time you'd seen them in full. But, so too does the expanse of them feel gentle and loving when he wraps those wings around you, a dark cocoon in which you share your secret passions.

You love him, and you love his realm. Scary though it may be, it's beautiful, too, and you try to focus on that. This world is not so dangerous as your human instincts would have you think.

Still -- did the trees you pass on your way home always look like these?

You realize it for certain when a whisper of the breeze against your face sends a chill shivering through your whole body.

Die. Die. Die!

This is not the way home. And you are not alone here.

"Who's there?" you call out, keeping your voice as steady as you can. You have been warned not to show fear -- demons can sense it, and they love the smell of it upon their prey. "Show yourself."

Die! Die! Die!

The whistling twists into a hideous laughter, and a wavering silhouette begins to coalesce before you, its form shimmering back and forth between handsome man and beautiful woman, though you know this creature is neither.

"Puny human, daring to command me?" Its words crackle like static, caught between channels of fury and delight. "Well, I am right here. But you are the one keeping secrets, lost little lamb."

To your surprise, you recognize this voice. It is one of your classmates at RAD, one that you had always found generally pleasant towards you. "Bealphares? What do you mean?"

"I never minded Lord Diavolo's plans for harmony between the realms. I didn't object to the exchange program, when so many others did. I didn't think humans were so bad. But then, today, I saw a little thing I didn't like you tried to hide," it trills, the end of its tirade whipping back into a shriek. "Did you think a pathetic little human like you has any right to our prince?"

In an instant, the air leaves your lungs as if pulled, your ribs crushing inwards at the sudden emptiness, and you drop to your knees. You try desperately to cast a spell to protect yourself, but your breath is too empty to form the words. Bealphares steps closer, cupping your face in its hands as it leans in close to hiss, "The prince of demons belongs with a demon."

"Stop there, Bealphares."

A great shadow falls over you both, as terrifying as the day you first saw it, and Diavolo's commanding presence swoops neatly down beside you. His golden eyes glow wild with a kind of anger you've rarely ever seen in him, and the air around him grows hot with raw magic.

"Lord Diavolo!" Bealphares releases you at once, scrambling to bow before its prince. You gratefully gasp in the crisp night air as the lesser demon anxiously spits out, "I-I can explain!"

"Very well. Explain." Your beloved's cold expression does not change, glaring down at your attacker. "Explain to me, Bealphares, spirit of air, why I've arrived to find one of our human exchange students on the verge of death at your hands. That's a grave offense, to try to attack one of my guests, here in the realm I rule."

Diavolo's voice rumbles like the deep shaking of a volcano, and his fangs glint dangerously in the moonlight as he speaks. Are they longer than usual? Sharper, too, you think -- though it's hard to tell, as the light distorts around the little embers that begin wisping out with each word.

"I will give you your chance to try to justify yourself. But keep this in mind -- I have the power to tell truth from lies. And if I do not find your answer to my satisfaction, Bealphares, I will carry out your punishment personally."

He takes a heavy step between you and the demon -- protective in one sense, threatening in another. His wings are outstretched so wide that you can hardly even see the other past them, with golden veins weaving glowing energy throughout. Though you cannot see, you hear the wind of the demon's voice faltering in the heat of the air as it whimpers, failing to form words.

"Now, go on then. Explain."

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redhead-batgal · 3 months

Note

Hey , I recently read your Damian Wayne one shot called she's so gone and I was wondering if you were going to make a part 2 . I absolutely loved it and would love to read a part 2 and I look forward to seeing more of your stories and if you don't write a part please tag me in a post that u are not gonna write part 2 I would really appreciate it. And awesome stories btw .☺️❤️

Type: Two-Shot (Part One: Here)

Pairing: Fem! and Best Friend! Reader x Damian Wayne/ Robin

Word Count: 7,462

Content: angsty, angsty times, arguing, confrontation babes, the sis is back, maybe some PDA, amazing friend! Jon Kent, fluffies????, language, violence, self-deprecating reader thoughts, batfam supporting reader, and aged up reader/Damian to 18 yrs

(P.S: Sooooo, yeah, I hope y'all enjoy this chaos cuz it may or may not get intense at some point but like.... you did ask for this, however y'all will like the ending I promise)

(P.P.S: Forgive me I'm really really bad at writing PDA)

Y/N: your name, S/n: Sister's name

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There is something hollow and empty in heartbreak. Some emptiness that consumes everything in a twirling barreling black hole that destroyed anything that entered its orbit. Transforming the raw and fierce emotions into a numb and darkness that overtook and elapsed time and almost even life itself. It was almost like a never-ending wave, water pounding in ears and honing the sound of a beating heart. Something about that feeling that was almost...addictive.

Though this feeling- this destruction was oh so painful. Part of you- part of you clung to it. Maybe it was because these horrible and draining emotions helped you focus on something other-other than the betrayal and other then... other than your inadequacies. After all, Damian wouldn't have chosen S/N right? if you have been better if you had been greater, if you had just been more, maybe- just maybe he wouldn't have left- he wouldn't have abandoned you.

These thoughts had you up at night despite the heartbreak roaring through your mind. It made adjusting to your new life in Metropolis so much harder. And even though you had developed a poker face of sorts, your new roommate Jon Kent always seemed to know when you were struggling.

It wasn't as though he could read your mind or that he had any feelings for you, but more as that he knew you so well. He was, in a sense, the sibling- the brother you had needed. A person to rely on and to confide in. It was surprising how willing Jon was to listen to your woes despite the fact that he was close friends with Damian. Despite the fact that he knew your sister, he knew her well, he still listened to everything that had happened and your point of view of it all.

It was even more surprising that he comforted you. Not in a soft way, but in the ruffling of hair and saying that your family, your sister and even Damian didn't deserve you. Before continuing with even if you really are annoying. You had laughed, tears spilling from your eyes before nodding.

Regardless of Jon's comments and the quiet messages of encouragement from Oracle saying she won't tell Damian where you were at and that you were in the right, your mind still scrambled and screamed.

It's all your fault

he left because you aren't good enough

you should have died that night

These swirls of terror overtook you at the worst of times. In the dead of night when you were all alone; in crowded rooms at parties Jon had convinced you to go to; even in your sleep. Yanking you from the one peace and bliss you had to the roaring of self-hatred and scorn. And today was no different.

Just as the soft hues of light brushed the horizon, your mind bellowed and twisted, pulling you from sweet dreams of the past you longed to return to.

Partially panting you sat up, teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you intertwined a hand into your hair. Squeezing your eyes shut you focused on your racing heart instead of the thoughts that fought to be known.

Moments later there was a knock on your door. Sighing heavily, you slipped from bed and walked over to the door. Opening it with a weak wave you turned back towards your bed. In the doorway Jon stood a worried look on his face.

"Are you okay?" He whispered, having clearly been awoken by your frantic episode.

"I guess, I mean nothing out of the ordinary is happening." You grumbled in reply, rubbing your brow.

There was silence between the two of you and Jon walked into your room flopping onto your bed with a slight grunt, "So all the fun times?"

"Of course, what else would you expect from me?"

Jon laughed slightly and you sank onto the ground leaning your head half against the bed, half against Jon's leg. Something stirred and shifted in you and closing your eyes you muttered a question,

"Do-do you hear it too?"

"Your voices? no, I think those are your special friends."

Shooting him a glare of sorts you swatted at his leg, and he chuckled before letting out a soft yawn. There was more silence before he sighed.

"Okay, okay you're serious... yeah. I do. I mean it's not like what you're going through but I hear the doubts and negative thoughts too."

Something about his words made you want to protest, to say it wasn't that bad, or really untrue. Something also struck a match in your chest, alighting warmth and comfort and something almost burst.

Swallowing back your tears you leaned back a bit to see his face before you continued.

"So... I'm not crazy or awful for having voices tell me all the bad things I've done?'

Jon snorted and you had to resist the urge to punch him. He sits up glancing down at you before sighing dramatically.

"No, that doesn't make you crazy. You are perfectly crazy all on your own."

With that a wave of relief came over you as you jumped to your feet. Jon rose and you pushed at him a smile of sorts on your face. He gasped dramatically before reaching out to push you back. You dodged his hands as laughter began to build in your chest.

"oh, it is so on." Jon muttered and a laugh escaped you.

Turning you skidded out of your room, avoiding Jon's attempts to push you as you hurried down the hall into the kitchen. Your feet slid across hardwood floors almost gliding when your foot caught on a chair leg, and you practically flew forwards, your face slamming straight onto the ground.

A bit of pain raced over you, but it was familiar enough for you to know that the most you would have is a bruise.

There was silence, then roaring laughter and you hazily pushed yourself up to see Jon cackling. His hand pressed to his stomach as he laughed at your fall.

"You are such a dick." You mumbled as you pushed yourself up.

Jon did not seem to care and continued to laugh. You rolled your eyes before pushing yourself to your feet. His laughter seemed to halt as you turned towards him. He paused, weakly smiling, "Is this the part where I run?"

Smiling slowly, you tilted your head and shrugged.

"It can be; however I am willing to negotiate."

He hesitated, eyes going wide as he looked around the room clearly noticing the hardwood floors and his feet in socks.

"Ah okay, uhm how does hot chocolate sound?"

You narrowed your eyes taking a step forwards, Jon's hands went out and he blinked a few times taking a step back.

"And a donut or pastry or whatever you like."

You took another step forwards and Jon flinched raising his hands to cover himself as he squeaked out,

"From Nonna's!"

You hesitated, recalling the Italian woman's small cafe and all the baked goods inside. Including her delightful assortment of drinks.

"I want extra whipped cream on my drink and a bag of stuff."

Jon paused, looking up at you slowly, his eyes narrowed, "Is that all?"

You thought for a moment and nodded, "Yes."

He held out a hand slightly shaking, and you grinned, "Deal."

After a somewhat civil handshake, you took a step back feeling something warm in your chest.

"I'll get my shoes and coat!"

Bounding back to your room you grabbed a pair of shoes and a coat before practically skipping back into the kitchen. Jon had his arms crossed as he leaned against the wall, a strange look on his face. As you pulled your coat and shoes on you approached him.

"Ready?"

He hesitated, making eye contact with you and blanching. He cleared his throat, eyes darting towards the front door.

"I- i I uh... I don't think going now is a good idea-"

You rolled your eyes, "You promised, we are going no backing out, we shook on it!"

But something about his hesitance made your stomach churn, pins and needles beginning to bounce on your chest.

Jon opened his mouth to say something else and you walked over to the door, your hand resting on the handle when something escapes him.

"Wait!" He almost squeaks.

You hesitated for a moment before looking back to the door and slowly opening it. An empty hallway stood before you and you tilted to show Jon. Snorting a laugh at his surprise you scrunched up your nose giving him a teasing look, hoping to make him roll his eyes- or at the very least stop his nervous behavior.

"Does the big bad empty space scare you Little Johnny?" You asked in a voice you'd use on a child.

Jon seemed to relax, his shoulders dropping and air leaving him as he stared at the doorway; clearly not registering your taunt. A second passed before his head snapped in your direction and he narrowed his eyes.

"Seriously? Little Johnny?"

You shrugged, "What else am I supposed to call you? Your name???"

This made him laugh, which calmed the buzzing on your chest and churning in your stomach. Yet, something about the look in his eyes made the pins and needles dig deeper, moving to the back of your neck and shoulders.

Jon moved towards you and the door, seeming more relaxed than before but... something seemed off. However, you didn't know Jon well enough to know what exactly that meant.

He gestured out the doorway smiling slightly, "Shall we?"

Pausing you nodded, a slur of worries being pushed back in your mind as you smiled, "Of course!"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Surprisingly, despite the early hour, Nonna's was in fact open. You were not in fact Nonna's first customers; however, you were able to get your order in. You had to wait but waiting for Nonna's goodies was worth it.

Though, Jon was acting a bit odd. Looking at his phone frequently as he shifted from one foot to the other, eyes darting to the door every once in a while. After nearly ten minutes of this behavior, you were suspicious. Elbowing his side, you tilted your head and opened your mouth to ask him what was going on when Nonna called out your name. You moved to get your order, smiling at Nonna from behind the counter.

"Here's what you asked for piccolina, I added some extra's since you and that patatino," She gestured to Jon who was staring at the door frozen, "over there are looking a little thin."

You nodded smiling, as you took your bag and hot chocolate from her, happy for the food but worried as the pins and needles stabbed into your neck and shoulders, dancing around your heart.

"Buongiorno Nonna."

"Torna Presto, Piccolina!"

Nonna beamed as she moved on to her next customer. Turning back towards Jon you moved towards him, brow furrowed as you stopped at his side.

"What the heck, are you okay Jon?"

He didn't reply, instead he stiffed as the bell to Nonna's rang. His eyes locked on who just entered as he took a breath in slowly. Confused, you looked to see what was making him so still.

Standing in the doorway, disheveled and sweating was none other than Damian Wayne. The two of you made eye contact and you felt the air and color leave you. Heart hammering, you froze for a singular moment, long enough to see the recognition and relief in his eyes.

Something warm blossomed in your chest, a wave of joy that wrapped around your throat. It squeezed at your heart as a bitter taste coated your tongue and you weakly took a breath in. He was here, he was here. It was almost instinctual to lean in and hug him. To start some sort of physical contact as if you make sure he was here-truly here. Then the tight pulsing of your veins and breathing of your lungs yanked you back into reality. He- he had betrayed you, he- he had abandoned you. Pulling back, you squeezed your hand into a fist, eyes raking over him before noticing the movement just beyond his shoulder. No, the person behind him. She looked a little frazzled, but still as perfect as ever. Looking back to Damian the sluggish feeling of betrayal up your spine.

A wave of emotions fierce and roaring climbed up your throat as you backed away from the door. For a moment you couldn't breathe, and the world was spinning as a realization crashed down around you.

He was here.

Why was he here? Why did he have to come just as you were starting to get numb to all those emotions? Why did he have to come after you just made it past an episode? Why did he come? Why? Why?!

Swallowing you pushed back your worries and fears, back the questions and pain. Gripping your hot chocolate tighter as you let out a slow breath, then you began walking towards the door. Hoping your nonchalant attitude would make them ignore you or so baffled you could slip past. As you made it to the doorway, you began to slide towards the street, outside of the store-the place with no escape, to the open and free air that allowed you the opportunity to turn and leave.

Unfortunately, your hopes were in vain. A hand clamped down on your arm, pulling you in. And you blinked, looking to find Damian Wayne practically towering next to you. Eyes frantically racing over your face and body, worry covering every feature as you felt his heavy breaths on your skin. Hell, his heaving chest nearly touched your arms as you felt his heat.

"Y/N."

Taking another breath you gave him a blank look, your eyes instantly drawn to your sister loitering behind him. A muddled mixture of emotions on her face.

"If," You began calmly, your eyes locking on his nose, so you don't have to look into his eyes, "you're here because you think I'm trying to steal Jon or poison him against you, you should know I'm not. And there's no reason to worry."

You saw his jaw twitch and his grip tightened on your arm as he pulled you in even closer. Faintly, you could feel Jon lingering behind you. Clearly watching and waiting for a moment that deemed too much for you or a spot to intervene.

"I am not here because of that."

You bit the inside of your cheek as you looked away from Damian's face. Eyes once again drawing to your sister, whose brow was furrowed, a scowl of sorts on her face.

"Then why are you here?" You softly asked nails digging into your palm as you looked towards the floor.

"I'm here for you."

Snapping up, you raised your head and made the unfortunate mistake of meeting Damian's gaze. There was some kind of pain you noticed in his eyes. Pain, worry and something you refused to believe was real.

Longing

Looking away you tried to focus to stay calm, but your heart refused to listen.

Liar one side of it hissed

For me? the other side sobbed

Pushing down your feuding heart, you tried to think, think of the real reason he could be here. It took just a moment for you to come to what you thought was a viable conclusion.

He was here to show you how awful you really were.

He was here to prove he was in the right, and you were wrong.

To show that you weren't good enough.

That your sister was and that's the whole reason he chose her was because you weren't good enough.

Because you weren't enough.

The air stopped in your chest, and it was then you noticed your sister's gaze locked on Damian's hand gripping your arm. Forcing a breath you swallowed, your free hand to touch the one holding you there.

Almost instantly, Damian let go of your arm, his brows creased as his gaze flicked, just for a moment to Jon. Quickly looking back at you, almost as if he was scared, you'd disappear or be gone since he took his eyes off of you, Damian let out a long breath. Then, he stepped back until he was on the sidewalk, out of the doorway but blocking any escape onto the street.

Part of you hated that he knew you well enough to know you'd try to escape. Knew you well enough to know cornering you in a public place would not only make you even more hostile but frustrated people knew your personal business. Damian knew you well enough to know that even though you wanted to run, you did not want to impede on others.

Grinding your teeth, you exited Nonna's. You didn't have much of a choice other than moving out of the doorway fully and standing so close to Damian you were practically pressed into his side.

His hand was brushing your cheek, and you found a frown searing itself into his face.

"There is a bruise forming... what happened? How did this occur? Did someone harm you? Who hurt you?"

It took everything in you not to shove him away screaming,

YOU

YOU HURT ME

YOU CONTINUE TO HURT ME, OVER AND OVER AGAIN!

when will you stop hurting me?

Instead, you gently moved his hand from your face and tightly smiled your eyes drifting to Jon, confused why he hadn't stepped in or tried to help you escape yet.

"I'm fine, I just fell earlier. It was an accident, don't-" You stopped.

Don't worry.

Why did you need to say that? Why did you need to reassure him you were okay?

Why why why?

"You fell?" Damian murmurs, eyes narrowed, clearly unconvinced.

"Yes," You retorted, taking in a breath, "I was running around the apartment and my foot caught a chair leg. Ask Jon, he was there."

"I know."

Stepping closer to you, your sister cleared her throat, smiling tightly, fully capturing your attention, "Y/N how are you liking Metropolis?"

"It's fine," You began narrowing your eyes as you looked her over, "why-"

Before you could even finish your question, she interrupted gesturing to Jon with a smug look on her face.

"Is he your boyfriend?"

"Who, Jon? No, no. He's my friend, a good friend, but just a friend."

Part of you wanted to look at Damian as you said this, but you kept your composure enough to keep your gaze on S/N. However, she rolled her eyes at your comment almost as if she didn't believe you. And there was a look on her face that made something in you snap. Taking a step closer to her you scowled, crossing your arms.

"What the hell are you doing here anyways? I thought you were happily living in Gotham now," You hesitantly shot Damian a look before turning back to her, "I thought you both were."

Your sister weakly laughed, "Well, things have been... interesting. Adjusting to living in a new city is difficult, you should know that."

"I'm doing perfectly fine here; in fact, I was doing great until you- until the two of you showed up."

S/N blinked in surprise almost recoiling from your words. She opened her mouth, clearly prepared to spin a sob story to make you feel bad when Damian pulled you away from her.

"Be quiet, S/N."

"But Da-"

"I said quiet. It is atrocious enough that you followed me here. I do not need you aggregating things with Y/N by lying again."

"It's not lying exactly-"

There was a loud crash that rocketed you all straight into silence. You paused, looking around before taking a step forwards, trying to figure out where the sound was coming from.

At first you couldn't even see past the roof of the stores just beyond Nonna's. But as you slid into the empty street, you noticed a blur of colors. A familiar blur of colors.

Red and Blue.

"Oh shit," You whispered as an alarm of sorts began to blare.

You turned to shout to the others what was going on when a blast of sorts had you stumbling backwards. Looking up you saw a building tumbling towards you.

Blinking, everything seemed to go deathly still as a low whirling began in your ears. You turned, your eyes slowly blinking again as the building got closer to you and figures- blurred figures raced towards you as the whirling rose to a rumble then a voice, shout- no screaming your name. Before dust and rubble covered your eyes and something heavy struck your head sending you into pitch black darkness.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Dust and what must have been ash floated in the air. Catching on your eyelashes and blurring your vision as you stirred. Blinking to find heavy rock and metal-rubble surrounding you. Wincing, you shifted in an attempt to get on your feet when you heard a groan.

Turning, you found just a few feet behind you a dusty and twitching person. Rubbing the dust away before you got closer you noticed a slab of concrete, a crimson splotch barely visible just on the area it made contact with the person's leg.

Moving closer, you noticed the familiar figure- the face and eyes. Moving closer you realized it was Damian. Going still you bit your lip as he grunted, clearly waking up.

Part of you wanted to just stare, to wait for him to notice you. But you also- the pain in your chest grew at the sight of him. Fallen and pinned, injured-bleeding; he was hurt. And-and in front of you. How could you just stand by and watch?

How was he even here? He was far away when the building fell and yet-here he was.

Moving closer you began to focus on his pinned leg, he blinked clearly trying to sit up.

"What are you doing here?" You muttered as you crouched near the slab.

"Pardon?"

"What are you doing over here! You should be by Nonna's safe from falling rubble and being trapped in a growing hellhole!" Peering around the slab, you noticed it wasn't too large. And there was definitely enough room for you to lift it up.

"You-"

"I what?" You snapped, shooting him a glare.

He hesitated, seeming to realize what you were doing as you took in a deep breath and slid your fingers under the concrete.

"I was attempting to reach you. To-to- remove you from danger."

You froze, air stopping in your lungs as sweat coated your hands. Gripping the slap harder you yanked upwards, heart racing. The slab rose just enough for his leg to slip free. Rolling, he cursed and scrambled away from the slab as the sweat weakened your grip and the slab fell back in place.

Silence overcame the two of you and you sighed deeply before remarking, "... you pushed me out of the way of falling rubble?"

"It is possible that situation occurred."

"Damian-"

"It is my belief that in consideration of our current... situation, we would be at a loss in continuing to bicker on what exactly occurred so that I would result in being confined here with you."

"Then what exactly should we be doing?"

"Perhaps we can discuss what truly occurred in reference to when your sister came to Gotham."

Your teeth sank onto the inner part of your cheek as you let out a hissing breath. Nails digging into the palm of your hands as you turned to him.

Frustrated, sad and-and angry.

Angry that this whole situation came about and that you were being pushed once again to listen. To understand. That what happened was always going to happen.

But part of you... part of you wanted to listen. To hear his explanation and get rid of the ever-growing pit of abyss in your chest. To listen and understand what he did. That it never really was between you and her. That you were enough and that, that.... he would choose you.

However, you knew it was too late for something like that to occur. He had chosen her. Just as everyone else did, just as everyone always will.

You were never and will never be anyone's first choice. Especially when your sister was an option. Especially when you were just simply you. Not something greater or grander like she was, like others will be.

So, you need to make a choice. Hear him out, listen to the same story you've heard hundreds of times before or sit in the unknowing. Questioning whether or not it actually was the same, whether or not you weren't enough. Questioning if he really did choose her over you.

And you weren't exactly good with questions, with curiosities and wonderings. But you were tired of hearing all the reasons your sister was better...

Maybe this time will make you realize the truth. Maybe this time, hearing the words of devotion to your sister from someone who you so deeply loved and trusted would make you realize it will always be her. Maybe it will make you realize you need to stop hoping and wishing and wanting it to be you. Because in the end it never will be.

Swallowing, you relaxed your hand and jaw. Sinking onto the dusty ground with a sigh you shrugged.

"Fine, fine. Why the hell not, tell me your little sob story. I'll listen. I won't cry or shout or say you're lying. Tell me the truth and it will all be over."

He began pulling himself across the ground closer to you. You locked your jaw, wincing before going still.

"It- There- A misunderstanding occurred. I wish to rectify this, because... for a lack of superior terminology, it is not what you think."

You raised an eyebrow as he slid even closer to you, sweat beading on his brow. Mixing with the dust and dirt that clung to his face, sliding down his face drawing your eye to his face- his jaw and- no.

"Really now?" You sneered.

"Y/N-" He began and you rolled your eyes.

"Damian stop with the antics, call me as you usually do."

"... I regularly address you in this manner."

"Wha- no- wait..." You paused blinking a few times as faint memories raced across your mind, with his voice always calling you by your first name, "when did you stop calling me by my last name?"

"Is that what you truly wish to know?"

You took a risk and met his gaze, seeing the unwavering determination in his eyes. Almost as if he'd tell you anything you wanted to know.

"Y- no. No, just continue, continue please."

He paused for just a moment before nodding weakly and continuing, "When your sister first arrived in Gotham, I was... concerned. You had previously stated that your accounts could be biased. Therefore, I desired to comprehend the truth in your... contemptuous relationship. Thus, I enacted a strategy to ascertain your sister's true intentions."

Strategy... a plan-he- he wait

"You-you... you wanted to know what my sister wanted with me?"

Eyes still locked onto each other you watched him sigh heavily, his jaw locking as he readjusted himself.

"In essence, I yearned to distinguish if your belief is correct or if your judgment was clouded due to... past grievances."

He...wa-he wanted to know the truth. Was there really anything wrong with that? After all he wouldn't have come all this way if he... if he truly chose your sister.

Speaking of your sister... what- what did he find that made him- made him decide to lie to you??

"... And what exactly did you discover?"

At this he broke eye contact and your stomach dropped. You were wrong, you were wrong she wasn't trying to hurt you. She wasn't being cruel. oh lord what had you done-

"You- you... your perspective on the matter is accurate. Extensively accurate. In fact, according to my comprehension, your sister not only dislikes you- but she wishes to have you... under her control."

wait, you were right? You were right? Then- then what exactly was she trying to do? Why was she so cruel? Why did he use those methods to discover this?

"So, you're telling me that you flirted with and went on a date with my sister because you wanted to know what her intentions with me were?"

"That is correct."

"And... she hates me."

Damian winced as he attempted to slide even closer to you. It was then you realized how you were leaning back, shoulders straight, arms crossed and nails in palm. Tense you were so tense.

"Hardly, rather she- well rather it appears to me she is... envious of you."

This startled you. What, what on earth could he mean by envious?

"Envious?”

"Ugh, perhaps the word jealous provides more clarity."

"She's-... she's jealous of me?" You were barely able to get the words out as your shoulders sank and Damian's hand brushed against your leg.

He shifted once again, pulling himself so he was seated at your side. He was panting and his brow was soaked in sweat.

"That is how I have come to understand it."

It- none of this made any sense.

"Why?"

"As far as I was able to discern, she envy's your strength against society and peer's ideals on who you are and how you should behave."

He reached out, gently grabbing your hand and holding it in his own as you stared at the rubble surrounding the two of you. There was more silence when he squeezed your hand. You turned to him and he half heartedly gestured to his leg before remarking,

"Is this not when you scold me for causing further injury to myself? Better yet, why have you not voiced any complaints or objections to my actions?"

"Because you did it to yourself, who am I to tell you what to do?" You snorted rolling your eyes as you took his hand in return, "besides would you have actually listened to me?"

"I do not believe I would."

"Exactly."

For a moment or two, it almost felt as though everything was going back to the way it was supposed to be. In fact, you were just about to lean into him when a thought crossed your mind.

why did he hide it? Why did he not include you? Why keep it from you?

"Why didn't you tell me?"

He was quiet and you swallowed, waiting for the weak explanation of how he realized he didn't like you all that much. Instead, you got,

"I- wished to inform you of my discoveries... but only after I obtained a method to prevent her from ever... from allowing her envy to create contention between the two of you."

Contention... wait-wait was- was he trying to protect you?

"You- you were trying to figure out how to prevent her from being mean to me?"

"I was attempting to, but... you ran away."

A heat of sorts rose up in your chest and burned away the fleeting sensation of relief and regret.

"I did not run away," You snapped, pulling your hand from his as you glared, "I left."

"I apologize," He said, his face pale as he reached out for you once again, "It seemed, at the time, that you were running."

It wasn't a wrong assumption exactly but... how- how did he-

"How did you find me?" You whispered.

"I- I will give you this information under an immovable condition."

You raised your head brow furrowed with suspicion rising in your throat, "And what is that?"

"You- you cannot act and must think through all I will tell. You must listen because there is much I will say."

Someone- someone had given you up. Someone had betrayed you...again.

"Fine."

"My... family, those who knew, would not even acknowledge your absence. So do not worry, they still hold your confidence in high regard."

You relaxed slightly, swallowing as a weight on your shoulders lifted. Making eye contact you raised an eyebrow and nodded.

"I searched for any trace and found none. It is my belief that Gordon erased your tracks... regardless I- i had begun to lose hope when... when Kent reached out to me."

You froze, your chest tightening as your nail instinctively stabbed into your palm. Biting your lip, you looked away as a heavy darkness clouded your mind. Clutching onto your shoulders and sinking into your skin as a pain of sorts danced across your veins.

"He was... concerned about my wellbeing. And soon, yours. He informed me he knew of your location, but it wasn't until he said you were looking gaunt- that it was evident not only with your action but with your appearance. You- he said-" Damian paused, swallowing as it seemed almost as if he was in pain as he continued, "you were suffering. And that though he did not wish to betray you, your welfare was far more important."

This was, this was odd. You had never experienced someone- someone doing something for your own good even though you were against it.

"Jon- Jon told you where I was because he was worried?"

"Yes, he- he ordered me to come to your side," Damian chuckled, "To explain and clarify what occurred. That he could not bear to see you in such a state for any longer."

"Ah... and you didn't originally tell me because-because you were trying to protect me?"

Damian blinked a few times, turning to you, confusion clinging to his features as you noted his flushed cheeks, more than likely due to his strenuous efforts to reach your side, "Pardon?"

"You approached my sister, trying to figure out what she wanted because you didn't want me to get hurt. You even wanted to come up with a plan to stop her from hurting me. So, you wanted to protect me."

He tilted his head and shrugged, eyes raking over your face as if he was taking it in for the first time.

"With it phrased in that manner, yes. It appears that way."

"why."

"What?'

"Why did you-" You hesitated faintly recalling Damian calling you friend and you stopped.

You knew why he did it. At least most of it. A better question to ask- a question ringing in your mind over and over again was,

"Why didn't you tell me from the beginning?"

"I- I am afraid I do not understand."

"Why didn't you tell me you were planning on figuring out what my sister wanted? Why did you lie to me? Why did you hide this from me?"

"I feared it would harm you."

"How?"

"You- you tend to be... excessively sensitive with matters involving your sister. I did not want you to... worry whether or not your intentions or beliefs about what happened with your sister were incorrect."

You paused, something sparking in your chest. A light of hope or joy. Something warm and happy that began to spread, the fact he knew you well enough to know you'd think that way-

But it didn't entirely make sense.

Damian would usually be there with you shaking his arms crossed as he sighed at your thoughts. Saying something along the lines of "you need not think that way. While I loathe to admit it, I made mistakes as well. And as Father has said, to make mistakes is human.... though I doubt he himself follows this proverb."

Looking him over you raised your head, eyes once again narrowed. Suspicion-a light more curious suspicion- rose up on your skin. Itching and crawling as confusion clouded your mind.

"What doesn't make sense."

He blinked, looking to you his brow furrowed pain etched into his face as he let out a ragged breath.

"I would appreciate some elaboration."

"That reason doesn't make sense."

"I beg your pardon?"

"You-... just as well as you know me Damian, I know you. And I know that me being worried I was wrong about my sister is not a good enough reason you'd keep that plan from me."

He faltered, wincing as he avoided your eyes, "It- at the time it appeared to me that you were... compromised emotionally due to your sister's unexpected arrival. I did not want to-to pressure you more with this... scheme of mine."

You snorted, crossing your arms as you gave him an irritated and amused look.

"Damian, even after my grandma died, who I was really close with. After I got back from her funeral, you still felt the need to tell me I was lacking when on patrol."

He shifted, eyes drifting away from you, his jaw locked.

"I do not understand how that circumstance and the present conversation connect."

"You are lying to me right now. I don't know why, and I honestly don't really care. I just want the truth."

He breathed out a heavy sigh before meeting your gaze, "I have grown a great deal since then. I now better understand what is appropriate and what is not."

"Damian."

Something stirred in you, it ached that he was still lying and-and you couldn't understand why. You didn't care about why truthfully. As long as you knew the truth, he could keep all the secrets about why he had lied that he wanted.

"I am telling you the truth." He seethed.

"I don't believe you; it doesn't make sense."

"Y/N-"

"Why would you do that?" You threw your hands up, shaking your head in confusion, that ache turning into a burning flame" Why would you care all of the sudden-"

"BECAUSE I HAVE AMOROUS FEELINGS FOR YOU!"

The flame went out and all of the anger and frustration disappeared in the blink of an eye. You tilted your head, confusion overtaking everything, "...what?"

"I have amorous feelings... for you."

Confusion grew and grew buzzing in your chest and throat. None of this made sense what- amorous, what in the hell did that mean?

"I- I don't understand, Damian what are you saying-"

He pressed on, "Just as you told me when saying goodbye, it hurts to see you in such a state-it burns me alive to harm you in any way because- because."

Your throat went dry the confusion beginning to fade, "Damian-"

"Because I am in love with you."

The world went still and you couldn't breathe. His words ringing over and over again in your mind.

Because I am in love with you

I am in love with you

love

A faint shifting sound caused you to let out a breath, air flushing in and out of your lungs.

"You-you... what?"

"I, myself, do not fully comprehend the scope of these... emotions. However, I am not going to deny them any longer."

His voice dropped, and he reached out, taking your hands in his, pulling you in closer.

"I am in love with you, when I heard you say that you felt the same and-and that I had hurt you. It nearly destroyed me. Especially since I could not fix my mistake. Especially because I could not comfort you. I could not even see your face. But your voice- I heard all the pain and sorrow I had caused." He released your hands and cupped your face pressing his forehead against yours, "Knowing I had done that in an attempt to keep you safe- that it was all my fault... I have not slept since you left. I have not ate- I have not lived since you left me."

You swallowed heat racing across your cheeks as you met his gaze. That longing you saw earlier burning so much brighter. The regret and sorrow swirling in between his eyes as you felt the tremble in his grip.

"I regret every action of mine that led me here- that hurt you. And I ask you to forgive me for my lunacy-for my arrogance and stupidity."

Head spinning you breathed slowly, confused and-and happy. He- he hadn't betrayed you.

"Seeing you once again-I... " He paused, shifting his grip, "I could not breathe for a moment. You- you were so stunning standing before me.... I understand if you-you feel different, but I beg of you. Please let me stay by your side. I care not if it is in Gotham or here. I- I am certain that without you- without your mere presence I will not survive."

In fact, he was always on your side. Always. He never chose he- it was- it was always you.

He chose you

You

You squeezed your eyes shut, heart hammering in your chest as your eyes burned and something warm slipped down your cheek.

"Oh-ah I- I apologize. I did- I did not intend-"

Something bubbled in your stomach almost making you laugh at his worry and frantic words that happened merely because of a few tears.

"Damian I'm okay," You whispered, opening your eyes seeing the panic on his face as you sniffed, "Happy- these are happy tears."

"oh- I... so you are not angry with me?"

"No- no I'm happy," You replied wiping away your tears, "happy I was wrong, happy you feel the same and-and..."

Damian went still and you pressed your head fully against his closing your eyes.

"I love you Damian, I still do. And- I-i... I accept your apology. It will take time for me to-to be comfortable once again but... I am willing to try-try at something more."

Opening your eyes, you felt your face flush even darker as you could see the pure and utter joy on his face. He leaned in and you did as well, eyes beginning to flutter when there was a crash of sorts.

Your eyes flew open, and you found just a few feet away from where you and Damian sat was now a hole. A gaping hole that led outside-into the clear open air and warmth. Just outside of the hole a figure floated faint streams of light catching to reveal colors to you.

Red and Blue.

Weakly laughing you raised a hand, "uh, ha, Hey Supes."

There was silence for a moment and Superman floated into the small alcove of rubble and dust. He looked at the two of you and raised an eyebrow.

"Are you both alright?"

You nodded slowly before hesitating, "Uh no- no."

You turned to Damian who was very pale and clinging to you. Swallowing you gestured to his leg turning back to Superman.

"His leg- it got caught under some stuff when we got stuck here. I think it might be broken or something."

There was a moment of silence before Superman flew closer to the two of you and in a second, he had pulled the two of you into his arms.

It was a matter of moments before you were outside, the sun bright as he set the two of you down. Pointing towards the paramedics nearby.

"You can get help there."

"Thank you!" You said with a smile as you grabbed onto Damian's arm.

Superman nodded with a smile before taking off, probably to help others. Damian half shuffled towards you wincing slightly and you began to reach for him when he said under his breath,

"And here I was desiring the opportunity to rescue you."

A heat rushed over you, and it almost seemed as if your body moved on its own. Your hands grabbing the collar of his shirt as you pulled him to you, pressing your lips against his.

There were a few moments, with your lips pressed against his, where nothing happened. Then, in an instant, with a wince of pain and body shaking, he grabbed onto your arm and kissed you back.

Heart, hammering you pulled away, almost panting as a slight feeling of regret coating your throat. Looking at his face you found a dazed look and released his shirt. Almost instantly he began tumbling towards the ground. Arms shooting out you captured him, pulling him close.

He winced muttering curses as he used your shoulder to pull himself up. Looking around you found people staring phones up and lights flashing.

"Oh shit," you whispered.

Damian shifted and you realized he wanted to move. Slowly walking half carrying him you began your trek towards the paramedics. Leaning against you he began muttering things,

"They will be relentless in their mockings for months."

Rolling your eyes, you steadied him, his head resting on your shoulder as you moved closer to the paramedics.

"Is it, all of this, the teasing and pain... is it all worth it?"

Shifting so he could look at your you he smiled, eyes locked on your face a soft and warm gaze- so heartfelt and yearning as he replied,

"If I am with you? Always."

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