#which i actually think would have been kind of cool but oh well
Text
OK, my thoughts about the final season of RVB! If you haven't seen it yet, warning for SPOILERS!
In general, I thought it was alright. The good parts were GOOD, but it felt kind of rushed, and a few things were disappointing. Certain parts I wish had been different, but I'm glad it exists. Watching it with lots of cool people made it fun, and it had a decent enough ending for what it was... though, after so many years, so many characters, just so MUCH of a story, I wish things had been a little MORE. It was a shame it was so short and rushed. I'm still glad the people who worked on it got it done, and we were all able to see it.
So. Actual thoughts on different bits...
I'm somebody who enjoys seasons 15-16-17, so while it will always be real in my heart, if they HAD to do a ret-con, having a spoof with a Retro Convention was VERY funny. Kai would absolutely milk her relation to Grif for some attention. I thought it was weird that Dylan was there, but she was a convention host? I feel like it would have made more sense for her to be one of the people asking questions about where the Reds and Blues went (y'know, like she ACTUALLY DID in 15). Oh well.
Things were very rushed... if this had been a more full season (or, in my perfect world, a story split into 2, so we get 19 and 20 out of it. I'm sorry, it just bugs my brain when something ends on a 9 instead of a 10. that's a ME problem), there could have been more of a Big Reveal about Tucker being the Meta. HOWEVER, since things were very condensed, I can appreciate how amusing it is to have Epsilon info-dump the plot to every body.
I did get a chuckle out of Epsilon being a "recorded prediction program" and not the true AI, and he decided to just be an obnoxious little youtuber. Like, that was so awful, it was AWESOME. It is also something that would have made Alpha Church super ticked off, which is very fitting. Good job Epsilon, 10 out of 10~
I was so happy to see Sheila and Lopez! Mechanical love lives on. It was a bit meh seeing the Reds act like they don't care about Caboose (we've been there, done that), but some of the funny bits that followed and Simmons getting Sarge interested by bribing him with Blue Defeat saved it (listen, these guys have been insisting they hate each other for 2 decades, but they can literally not live without each other. let them just admit they are ALL FRIENDS). Grif ranting was excellent.
No Donut is some major BS! Look, I get it, we stole the spot-light in 16-17, he was the time-god's most specialest pink princess and a harbinger of death, it can be intimidating to include something so powerful after trying to erase all that from existence... but come on. With all the important call-backs and connections 19 made with previous seasons, AND having the ending be in Blood Gulch? DONUT SHOULD HAVE BEEN THERE AND HE SHOULD HAVE THROWN THE AI UNIT. No, I mean it, imagine the thing gets knocked really far away, maybe from an explosion, and Donut throws it clear across the canyon, because you KNOW he can! This time instead of it being a grenade that kills Tex, she catches the unit, tra-la-la, it all comes together. I'm sorry, Simmons doing the cool sports-ball throw was fun, but... Donut. DONUT!
Alright, moving on. It felt a little awkward that Wash is yet again hurt, and nobody is there with him? Oh wait, Doc is there, except no he isn't. Listen. Listen. I love plural Wash. I also love the idea of him genuinely having an emotional connection with Doc, because it DOES make sense; when Wash kid-napped him, Doc just kept making all his sarcastic little comments the whole time, and it tricked Wash into having real conversations with him. I honestly think that if Doc hadn't been with them, Wash wouldn't have been so open to the idea of finally settling down after his Villain Moment. They also both have a lot in common with AI incidents, and again, Villain Moments. I'm just annoyed that the Pacifist and the Original Bad Boy evidently died. Off screen. Give me back my purple boys. If we need to have Wash Not Be Around for a while, have him and Carolina go off to track down Hargrove or something. Maybe they went to two different locations, and Wash gets back to the others first, so we still get Carolina to the rescue.
Anyway, the plot! There was a lot of funny bits when it came to looking for Tucker, getting into the ship with the "video call security", and Niner being there! Hooray! I am... a little disappointed about WHY and HOW Tucker is a "villain". Obviously, I can't picture him being legit EVIL, but the idea that he's just the physical puppet being controlled by the AI isn't very... good. I understand how it was explained, sure, but still. I know I keep rambling about my own thoughts for alternate scenarios, but I can't help it! I just don't like when Sigma (or Omega) are just plain EVIL, for no reason. They've always been more complicated than that (the Meta wanted to be HUMAN, remember. and Omega even told Epsilon "I'll be here if you need me". they are definitely different kinds of harsh and intense, but they aren't the Murder AI or the Evil AI). I don't like that Tucker is being tortured into doing what they say... a more subtle manipulation, the Fragments not only convincing Tucker but also themselves that they NEED to do all this to get Alpha back, is very intriguing. After Epsilon Deconstructed, the Fragments lost their Memories. They just know they aren't complete. Tucker just knows he wants to talk to his best friend again.
If it needs another push to make it more insidious, I'd buy that Meta suit being a trap to begin with; Hargrove probably had that thing rigged to make it into a trap for anybody that wore it, so they'd have this subliminal inclination to collect all the AI, and kill anybody in their way. Something-something forgetting what your motives are, and only caring about the GOAL. Tucker and the Fragments ALL need to remember who they are and why they want the Alpha; it isn't about being a weapon. If there was more of a fake-out/reveal of Tucker being the Meta, maybe with a false hint of it being Felix with the orange/black colors, a sign that Tucker is still in there would be him getting close to killing everybody... but he backs off each time.
Speaking of killing... Sarge. Oh, Sarge. I will admit that, just from a thematic point of view, yes- it works to have a Sarge death. I don't care for it being Tucker that did it, or that Donut isn't there to share the moment as well. Matt Hullum acted the HECK out of that scene, though. In fact, the whole bit of Sarge running back to save Caboose, and trapping Tucker with a bubble shield, was AWESOME. I didn't want Sarge to die... but he went out wearing his red armor, and told Grif and Simmons he cared about them. It was sad, but it was well done. In my perfect world, we just THINK he died, but then at the end it is revealed he's still alive! How? Well, Doc gave him CPR! Doc isn't dead either, that is integral you see. I'm not sure of Sarge going "Hurgh Bleh" would have been better or WORSE. Well, heck. I wish he wasn't dead, but as much as I hate it, I... didn't totally hate it?
I kind of wish Simmons had more of a break-down over it. I wanna see him lose his temper. OR, he acts so quiet and cold, it is just UNNERVING. Then Grif helps snap him out of it. Let's be real, those two are so co-dependant, it ain't even funny. I appreciate Simmons telling Grif he is officially free to leave, and the conversation of "Come with me" leading to Simmons saying he wants to see this through, and Grif agreeing to come along was good. Simmons has aspired to be an impressive soldier from the beginning, and Grif has just wanted to be DONE. In the end, they meet in the middle.
I may be a sappy Grimmons person, but I can say, as objectively as possible, they should NOT be separated at the end. Grif and Simmons are literally the introduction to the series. They were the first two characters we see, they have been side by side almost CONSTANTLY, they are always bickering but they are also each other's favorite person. I don't even mean in a shippy way, it is just a fact. To have them say good-bye and just leave each other is honestly out of character (we saw that before, remember, in 15; Grif got so guilty about it, Simmons came to the realization that opposites attract, and they finally had to admit they missed each other. it was a WHOLE THING). I think it would have worked if, after telling Grif he's free to leave at the end, Simmons waits minute, then starts following him-
Grif; What are you doing?
Simmons; Coming with you. What the hell else would I do?
And that is that, wherever they do, they're together. Also, Kai shows up and HUGS HER BRO, come on, please!
Now, as a sappy Grimmons person, they should have just gone through with it. It has been more than 20 years. Seriously. We all know it. People who don't even care about the ship know it. Just commit to the freaking bit. Stop being cowards. Let them hold hands, or hug, or gently bump the visor of their helmets together, SOMETHING. Show them taking a walk on the beach together, all lovey-dovey. We deserve some emotional satisfaction after a 2 decade queer-bait slow-burn. JUST DO IT.
Sigh... OK, that is out of my system.
My absolute FAVORITE thing in 19 was Tex. She was so freaking PERFECT. I love Caboose telling the unit a story, his way of bringing her back, because that was how he talked to Epsilon. It was so sweet. When they asked Caboose why he brought her back instead of Church, he told them- "Because I wanted to win". Listen, Caboose LOVES Church, but he knows what is up. It was hilarious to see her go through the teleporter to get her black armor back. I absolutely ADORED her saying she's NOT a "failure" anymore, because she's not just based on the Director's memories of losing his wife, she's also got the memories of the guys who REMEMBER HER KICKING THEIR ASSES. 100 percent, Tex return was the best. Her reuniting with Church was also very sweet... the only thing I would have liked more would be the other Fragments showing up in there, so they can all be together (and Church gives Theta a hug; he doesn't even need his memories yet, he just knows he loves Theta).
I didn't care much for deleting the Fragments at the end, but I get the "reasoning". Like, sure. Fine. In my perfect world, Caboose gives the unit to Carolina, so someday, when they're all "ready to wake up again", she can see her family. Wash taking the fall to alert Carolina was both kinda wonky, but also very funny, and hey- it got her there! Again, I don't know why she wasn't there with Wash from the beginning. Also, just. A few characters being dead, and most of the others splitting up at the end... nah. They all need to live together and be friends and be happy and be OK! Like, come on. They've had a lot of "endings" in this series that were bitter-sweet, or kind of sad. I know life doesn't always have a happily ever after... but just once, give them that.
OH, and ANOTHER THING; if things had been just slightly different, if both the Fragments and Tucker sort of "forgot" who they are, the way to remind Tucker should have been JUNIOR. Heck, maybe Carolina was off finding Tucker's kid, and when they come back Junior gets his dad to remember who he really is... but the suit is still controlling him, forcing him to fight. I just want a happy Tucker family reunion. Give that kid his daddy back. Even if Junior isn't there for the big conflict, he should have shown up at the end, with Tucker promising they won't be separated again.
Well, that sure was a lot! The final season was a lot, in a short amount of time! Again, I wish certain things were different, but I'm happy I could see it. Even after everything, all the good and bad parts, I know that it still isn't "the end". I've got a lot of ideas for stories, and so do many other fans out there. I know people are going to keep sharing their thoughts, creating their art, telling their stories... because a universe without stories? That's just empty space.
Bow-chicka-Bye Now!
17 notes
·
View notes
Note
i am so sorry for the long ask but i am always thinking about bruce’s line in detective comics #790 before the 🤢 victim blaming “he loved cars and girls and getting into fights… neapolitan ice cream and the color green… and most of all the thrill of being robin.” i have turned over every part of this line in my head for ages but here is one aspect
girls: pre crisis? during robin days he did have a gf for a bit named rena, essence and isabel in rhato, rose wilson, idk about red hood: the hill. but even with non romantic relationships he has sasha and duela and kori and artemis and talia (ignoring you know what) and the no longer canon natalia knight motherhood thing vs like roy and bizarro as the guys he hangs out with outside of bats and he even points it out “i feel closer to that big white lump of clay than, well, any guy ive ever known. yeah i knew roy and dick since i was young. but since ive been back? from the dead? hes the first guy friend ive made.” talking about bizarro in rhato and i dont put too much stock in rhato but he really does seem to consistently get along better with women. i dont fully think it is that he finds them less threatening cuz in task force z he was happy to hold his own against multiple bat boys but the second cass showed up he was like oh shit shes scary, plus like sheila is the reason he died and you would think that her betrayal would be a huge part of any ptsd or trust issues he no doubt has. but he also has that line after he and artemis kiss where he says something to the effect that it was a good kiss for a girl and that just… what do you mean by that jason? because you have spent the past lord knows how many issues (with the same writer) kissing isabel and looking back somewhat fondly on your time with essence and while readers can think you have very little chemistry with them the story being told is that all that was cool and good and within the norm for you. so like what does that line in your narration mean jason? if it isnt something you are into than why have you been going around kissing women in multiple instances jason?
Okay, so Jason’s line (“But it was nice. For a girl.” in reference to his kiss with Artemis) comes from Red Hood: Outlaw #41:
Which is actually him remembering events that occurred in Red Hood and the Outlaws (2016) #25:
Here, Jason asks Artemis what she thinks of their kiss, and Artemis says, “It was okay, for a boy.”
Honestly, my (somewhat boring) interpretation of the line in RHO #41 is that Jason is referring tongue in cheek back to Artemis’ quip in RHATO #25. I don’t think it was actually meant to be commentary on his sexuality.
That said, imo, Jason Todd doesn’t really seem like the kind of person who would feel the need to limit their sexuality to artificially constructed binary categories of gender … YMMV 😏
#keen converses#the infamous artemis kiss#comics references#jason todd#red hood#artemis of bana mighdall#artemis grace#red hood and the outlaws#rhato 25
15 notes
·
View notes
Text
speaking of great bleach mysteries, i often hear people wondering 'oh, did hitsugaya and matsumoto recognize isshin when they were in the World of the Living during the advance team arc?' and there was even a klub question about it, but what i want to know is, did anyone notice that Worst Ryouka and Savior of Soul Society Kurosaki Ichigo's one and only attack, Getsuga Tenshou, was also used by Captain Shiba Isshin, a guy who conveniently disappeared roughly 20 years ago?
#we are watching the deicide episodes right now and i was like 'hmm. hmmmm'#the timing lining up is sort of a red herring b/c shinigami have no idea how living world time works and how humans ago#i still maintain that when rukia told ichigo she had lived 'ten of his lifetimes' it's because she thought he was six years old#fun fact! before i read the tybw and had just seen a bunch of spoilers on tumblr#i assumed that isshin had lost his powers by doing the final getsuga (saving ichigo's mom possibly)#which i actually think would have been kind of cool but oh well
48 notes
·
View notes
Text
okay but. why does it seem like 24 year old majima’s ridden a horse before. why does he talk like he has Experience. what is this lost lore
#rambling#we just gonna gloss over this#to me this either implies he’s from either a REALLY country background Or on the other end of the spectrum (my personal belief) and he’s#from an upper middle class to well off background and has been to like horse camp or horseriding lessons or something in his childhood#oh man please i love the image of an 8-14 year old majima being made to do horseriding by his parents because hes this#lanky pale ass kid who needs to do SOME kind of sport or something#and boy would he Hate it#he’s bizarrely prodigious at a Lot of the (especially technique based) things he tries canonically so I imagine he wouldn’t actually be Bad#at it after some trial and error but. he’d still fucking hate it. and his cool persona in his head would be riding a motorcycle or something#instead cause that’s Way cooler to him#man I have so many thoughts about young majima I really gotta go into depth on it soon#oh yeah just a note: part of the reason I don’t think he’s from a country background is cause his Real Accent canonically is#a tokyo one which he’s still getting the hang of covering up with a kansai one when he’s 20. meaning there’s not a ton of time for him to#have adjusted into a Tokyo one or something prior if he hadn’t grown up there#so I’m pretty damn sure he’s from Tokyo#that + a number of other details that make him seem to me like he grew up with a more formal education#and ywah blah blah blah#majima#Yuki#sunshine siblings#y0
26 notes
·
View notes
Text
Poll adventure (paventure? lol) Day 15: read the small story tidbit below the poll for more details, OR just vote based on initial impression
(✦ see past poll results + further information HERE (link) ✦)
Yesterday's poll decided that The Adventurer should purchase some new shoes for himself while he's in the city...
~
It costs quite a bit of coin, but in the end he decides that having a new sturdy pair of boots will serve him well on his travels. After he's done in the shop, he rushes back to the local inn before nightfall, eventually settling into a somewhat restless sleep..
The next morning, he orders some cheap vegetable stew from a food stall, then lounges in a park as he has his breakfast, watching the squirrels weave through flowering trees and birds pecking about in the dewy grass.. When finished with his meal (and sufficiently recovered from the emotional turmoil of burning his tongue on the soup), he quickly sells his old pair of shoes to a sketchy pawn shop before finally getting back to his journey...
By his calculations, if he he walks all day, it should only be two more sleeps before he gets to his destination, so he sets out to travel as efficiently as possible. He doesn't have the money to rent a cart, or the skill to ride a borrowed horse, but, he does have some fancy new walking shoes and a renewed sense of purpose. No more meandering through fields looking for flowers, napping in the shade, or scanning the ground for cool rocks.. He's going to focus this time!
......After a few hours, he comes across a broken down carriage in the middle of the road, with few people surrounding it, seemingly stuck trying to repair a wheel or something. It's hard to discern from afar..
Maybe if he helps them, he could get a free ride.. or some coins.. or make a new lifelong friend! Who knows? Possibilities flood his mind, this is what adventuring is all about! Wandering into interesting situations and making the most out of them!! .. But, then he recalls his previous oath.. he's supposed to focus today and not allow himself to sidetracked.. And who says he has the skills to help anyway? It could always just be a waste of time... Hmm...
What should he do?
~
~
Additional Information
the adventurer's current main quest: follow his map to reach the abandoned castle ruins and see the rare animal specialist about the mysterious egg he has
#paventure posting#poll#polls#choose your own adventure#GHWOOPPPs yeah it's been an entire month basically since the last one ghj.. I said I was trying to get back on schedule.. idk what happened#I guess I initially thought that april would be a less busy month but then it actually ended up being MORE busy with a ton of appointments#and stuff so then I had like no time. on top of trying to get a lot of other stuff done... so.. eughhh#I DO STILL want to keepon track of this more though. I want to at least get him to the abandoned castle so he can complete#his quest. I think like. the first poll a lot of people seemed to like and care about and participate in so it was kind of like 'oh! cool!#it can be a fun collaborative story with a lot of people!' but then gradually less people participate or care so then I kind of allow mysel#to slack with it as well liike 'oh its fine if I miss a day or two here and there' which then turns into a month when I have other stuff#to do lol. Because it does still take time. like maybe 2 hours to put a post together. even if the art and writing is relatively rushed and#quick. Especially since polls are not editable once posted so half the time is just proofreading the post and tags 15 times#just to make super sure there's no errors or etc. lol.. But trying to clear two hours of time during an already hectic day for something#that generally speaking very few people are engaged with or care about at all when it's meant to be interactive (like with normal art#or costumes or other stuff I do - low interaction doesnt bother me since that's not the point/it's not as relevant. but with an actual poll#you do want like.. the most poeple possible to vote on it etc. lol) so it's like.. ehhh#I was originally thinking like 'oh i could do this for an entire year and tell like a whole story and it'd be cool to see where it ends#up eventually after so long and the community kind of choosing the direction of everything!' but now its like 'well people care significant#ly less about the following polls than they did the first one so maybe not As Big Of A Thing but I do at least want to finish the current#thing going on' etc. I mean if in the next few posts it becomes More Of A Thing then it's very fluid. I could do it for longer#but with the way things are looking it's like. is it worth the time investment when i ALSO have 800 other creative projects I'm meant to be#working on?? etc. etc. ANYWAY though.. Still there will probably be at least 10 or however many more since there's still like 1-2 more days#before he even gets to the castle plus then doing things AT the place.#I want to continue his journey!!!!! I also have just felt sick and weird and so unfocused for a while eughhh.. sorry#OO I almost forgot about his injury from the fight. i had to just add it in the last moment lol.. SEE this is why I proofread 100 times#I can't edit polls so they have to be Correct the first time.. ueghhh
15 notes
·
View notes
Text
i'm starting to think living with 5 other people may simply be a problem
#vent post#negative#i've come to the conclusion i'm not getting enough sugar in my daily meals#(which is. ironic in a lot of ways. but i don't know what else the problem would be)#and that's great that's cool that i've come to this conclusion. i don't think i can solve this one#we don't buy that much sugary or junk food stuff anymore#my dad's got diabetes that makes sense that's understandable#so a lot of our family meals are like rice and meat and a salad#but yknow i'm not really gonna ask my parents to change that! it's been like that for a long time now it's fine it's alright#but i don't think i can actually solve the problem#i. already have a lot of foods that the rest of my family isn't allowed to touch. because i am So Picky#and when they were eating my foods more often i was Starving#i don't. think. i can ask for more. and you know what that's fine! that's fine that's ok i like my meals they're tasty as hell#what about snacks then? can we get snacks for the whole family? well no#we stopped buying more junk foodish snacks because it was All my siblings were eating#and it was bad! it was bad they shouldn't have been doing that. but now i don't think my parents trust us to be responsible with snack food#so our snack foods are. protein bar. fruit snacks (i had to request these specifically). popcorn#that's. that's fine. that's fine maybe i should be focused on fruit instead! fruit is good sugar!#well we don't store fruit i like the way i like it (don't put it in the fridge) so i never eat any of it anymore#but everybody else seems fine with it so really i'm not going to win this argument cause everybody else actually eats it more when it's out#(i don't think this is true. but i think it's true for My Dad and My Mom specifically.)#and i just. it really got me thinking about how much i don't have foods that i like in the house or meals that i love because Somebody Else#likes it done differently and not the way i like it#and that takes priority#to the point where i don't know what the fuck kind of foods i like because we just don't. have. any#i prefer white rice. mom prefers brown so we get brown. i prefer crunchier potatoes. mom prefers them soft so we make them soft#i like my fruits cold. my parents prefer to be able to See the fruits so they stay on the counter. i only eat chicken breast not any other#part of the chicken. my parents prefer thigh meat so we get thigh meat (which i don't eat)#oh huh. this post was a lot longer but tumblr deleted half the tags. yeah that's fair
4 notes
·
View notes
Photo
lost your head
#before i complain for the rest of these tags i should clarify this isnt vent art or anything lol we're cool#the fuckin. entire creative process behind the initial idea for this to what it is now is. 📱💥#the idea came at first on account of connecting the dots between two song lyrics#but when i came up w designs that would properly call back to said songs i was like ...#well this would just kind of look like me n saltwater wouldnt it. so i said fuck it its them#or would be. bc ive also been sitting on this for months i didnt start it until like 2 days ago -_-#also i had to bust out 3d models for this and ohhh my god tryign to figure out how to a) pose them and#b) translate that into a sketch that would reasonably fit my normal art style took. foreever#i ended up sketching the pose out like 3 dif times before landing on the one that i went over for these lines O(-<#and then i Fucked Up the head tilt anyways its hardly even tilted its just kind of awkwardly offset from the neck#oh well. theres other compositions...#n honestly like i think aside from the head (the actual point of the piece ...) i honestly didnt do too bad#definitely most limbs and hands are all a bit janky but like definitely not as janky as they couldve been yknow? which is cool#also enjoy the faces those did turn out particularly well i think. so like that is swag too. but god this is underwhelming#im just sitting here like wow this one rules (still disappointed anyways)#one last tag ijust realized i forgot the hair curl. exploding myslef immediately now#anyways i have to add categorizations now..#my characters#myself#underneath the dock
9 notes
·
View notes
Text
!!!!
#i emailed them when i woke up pretty much and then i was distracted and busy but they got back to me!!#basically i emailed asking if i could conduct email interviews with any interested staff members#where i could learn about what they did for college what they do on a typical day and stuff like that!!#cause im still trying really hard to figure out what kind of degree i want to be a museum person#and like. if i get a masters in public history and library science would it actually apply to somewhere like mia?#and what kind of job within a museum would best fit my personal skills and limitations and just. stuff like that#and they emailed me back which is great#anyway hi world it’s been a minute i’ve been sequestering myself inside of my mind and disintegrating on the daily#because my dad is terrible at single parenting and my mom is missing in action (she’s on a planned trip don’t worry) but im not good at#taking care of myself my dad thinks cooking is womens work (unless it’s grilling which he has loads of books on and sometimes does) and i#don’t care enough about my own well being to make myself food half the time. so i just haven’t been eating haven’t been getting out of bed#but as of today i just had a shower i have laundry in the laundry machine things are looking up a little#and my sisters murder mystery party is later today i have to dress up as a victorian lady named starr dangerfield#im going to wear my own clothes mostly so there shouldn’t be too much dysphoria. but i will be putting my hair in tiny pigtails#which is something i did every day when i was a cisgender high school freshman. my current hair is like my old pigtails hair but just erase#the pigtail part from existence. like the reason i always had those pigtails was so that most of my hair would be what im actually#comfortable with which is what i have now. but even my short hair is still capable of the smallest little pigtails. and thats what i will do#idk i might be able to get by having my regular hair. that would be very much preferable#my sister is going to give me some crazy dramatic makeup though too. wish me luck :(#oh but the cool thing about starr dangerfield is that she’s the curator of the carnivals wax museum!! which. i don’t like wax figures but#as evidenced by the email exchange that’s going on right now i do love museums and curating so!! that’s good stuff#anyway i have to go see if my laundry is moveable. but just. yeah. mini life update#me. my post. mine.#delete later
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
yes charlotte would absolutely use the "im pregnant" as a trump card if things were so horrid in her marriage to the point rafael asks for a divorce
#oc talk#and tbf im not... exactly sure whether rafael would trust her or not#he would probably be extremely distraught being confronted by the obvious (she cheated on him all these years)#so i dont think he would be in the mentality to trust her on that. and will probably snap with a#'well whether thats true or not; how much of a chance there is that its actually mine?' so it wouldnt work at all lol#.... i do feel he would kind of keep thinking about it when he cools down though. he would be with mary and mention this to her#she would bonk him on the head and tell him shes 100% lying though lol. she lied on everything shes lying about this too#like how convenient shes suddenly pregnant. why she didnt mention it before when they have been married for years huh.#(and tbf they probably didnt fucked in a few months when everything started to fall down so.)#would charlotte go to finnley and dalila and tell them he 'abandoned' her when shes 'waiting for a baby'? yes#and honestly they would ask her if she knows who the father is; to which she would say very offended that of course its rafael.#and the siblings look at each other and her like 'yeah sure'. i mentioned this before but they would consider abortion as the first choice#and dali probably has a few locations for it 'just in case'. charlotte gets even more offended they suggest it. they fight.#this is kind of how they already are but the siblings do see kids as nothing but a trouble. unless very specific conditions are meet#you shouldnt be having them at all. being in the middle of a divorce with your husband hating your ass#surely isnt part of the specific conditions. having a kid would be reckless. so yeah. i feel like she would 'admit' her lie to them though#but in a 'oh apparently the other test was wrong im not pregnant. sorry!!'#its a mess#(but in a lighter note; i do like the thought of an expo where luca is invited taking place in a few days#and mary showing to rafael an insta post luca did about that and confirming hes going with a :-) and nothing more kjsdfndjs#your chance to see your celebrity crush!! you need a break buddy)
1 note
·
View note
Text
me? wha- never been jealous in my life—
includes : the demon brothers (lucifer, mammon, leviathan, satan, asmodeus, beelzebub, belphegor).
summary : in which he experience some silly, childish jealousy!
warnings : gn! reader. feelings of jealousy/envy from character.
꒰ ✿ ꒱ ─── lucifer
You were just taking Lucifer's advice and getting a tutor, you didn't realize it would be such a big deal. Leaning in closer to the demon to better hear him, you suddenly felt a cool grip on your shoulder. Looking up you see Lucifer giving the poor student the death glare. "You're coming with me," His eyes shifted down to you, and you sigh, packing up your stuff.
When you two were out of the library, you pull away from the grip he had on your wrist. Arms crossed over your chest, you eye him up and down before shaking your head. "Are you okay?"
He stiffens at your words, a small scowl forming. You quirk a brow, before coming to a conclusion. "Oh, don't tell me... were you jealous?" Red eyes widen and wings spread out- but you're not impressed by his little intimidation technique.
"Me?" He guffaws, hand placed on his chest melodramatically. "ME? You think I'm jealous? Ha!" He scoffs, and you can only give an incredulous stare. He clears his throat at your lack of reaction. "I am not jealous. That is a ridiculous notion."
"Yeah, okay." You shake your head. "If you were jealous though, I wouldn't be upset. It's actually kind of funny," You snicker, and he glares at you.
"Well, it's a good think I'm not jealous." You just hum, walking alongside him now.
"Riiiight," You glance over at him, before grinning mischievously. "So, who will tutor me now, hm?" Lucifer looks down at you, before not-so-subtly suggesting himself as your tutor. After all, no one is better than him... Right?
꒰ ✿ ꒱ ─── mammon
"Mammon," You say, your hands cupping his cheek. He looks at you pitifully. If someone were to see his expression they'd surely believe something very serious and heartbreaking was going on. "Mammon, I'm yours."
"Say it again." He pouts, his hands resting over yours. Is he relishing in all your attention now that he's gained it back? Absolutely. Are you growing annoyed at his shamelessness? Absolutely.
"This is the fifteenth time." You sigh, and he just whines. You groan, rolling your eyes before looking him in his eyes again and saying your line with the utmost earnest. "I'm yours, Mammon."
"... Again?"
"Oh my- Mammon, it was a puppy!" Mammon huffs, crossing his arms over his chest and grumbling that it didn't matter what species it was, if you gave anything or anyone more attention than your first man it would be reasonable for him to react in such a way.
Sighing, you reposition yourself on to your knees, now towering over him a little. Cupping his cheeks once more, you pull him into a very passionate, loving kiss- one that, when you pull away, leaves him breathless and dazed.
"Uh... what was... going on?"
"Nothing," You say, pleased, and pressing a kiss to his forehead. "Don't worry about it, okay?"
꒰ ✿ ꒱ ─── leviathan
"Hey, Levi...?" He tenses at your voice, stiffly turning around in his gaming chair to face you. You hesitate to speak, "Uhm... Do you remember that figurine you bought me?" If he could turn into stone right now, he would. "Well, I accidentally lost it somehow? Have you seen it at all?"
Oh, that was it? Levi lets out a shaky, relieved exhale as he turns back around in his gaming chair. "No, I haven't." This is a lie though, Leviathan had managed to get jealous of the figurine that got to stay in your room, by your side, more often than he, so he may or may not have it in one of his drawers, ready to destroy and torture it.
You let out a whine as you drape yourself against the back of his gaming chair, your hands resting on his chest. "'m so sorry Levi, don't be mad, okay? I'll do my best to find it."
Despite the lump in his throat and guilt gnawing at his heart, he takes your hand and presses a kiss to it. "D- Don't worry about it, okay? I'm not upset!" You peak over the chair to see his expression better and- wow, you really can't see any signs of distress!
"Really? Well, okay, but I'll still look for it!" You cheer, turning his chair around and pressing a kiss to his cheek. "After all, it's an important gift from a very special person~"
Ah, Levi's heart can't handle it anymore- you're too precious, and you just claimed he was a very special person! He didn't need to be jealous of that dumb figurine— don't be surprised if you find the figurine on your shelf later!
꒰ ✿ ꒱ ─── satan
How did you manage to score better than him in his favorite subject? Satan stares at your paper, which held the higher grade, with the utmost annoyance. A small scowl was forming on his lips as he continued to burn holes into the paper. You furrow your brows, being able to read him easily.
"Uhm, 'tan?" Snapping out of his angered gaze, he looks up at you, and feels a little guilty. You worked hard, you deserve a good grade... Just not better than him. "Are you okay?"
"... Can I read your essay?" You nod, offering him the paper and he reads it over, nitpicking everything- of course he doesn't say it aloud, though can still practically see smoke coming out of his ears. You sigh, "Are you... Jealous?"
His eyes widen and he looks up at from your paper, scoffing in shock. "No, I-... I'm just very proud." His strained smile and sinister aura tell you otherwise. Gently, you take the paper from him and replace it with yourself. Sitting on his lap, you smile down at him.
"I can give you some tutoring lessons, if you'd like." You tease- a very dangerous thing to do considering. Instead of getting more pissed off though, he just stares up at you before chuckling. A reaction only you can pull off.
"Ah, is that so?" He asks, tilting his head. "Perhaps I need it." He glances at his paper, which holds the lower of the two grades. His grip tightens a bit. Well, if playful teasing didn't distract him it seems you'd need to find another way!
And kisses are truly such a wonderful distraction, are they not?
꒰ ✿ ꒱ ─── asmodeus
Asmodeus is used to others getting jealous of him, or of others being closed to him, but he's never been the one being jealous! It's a very interesting feeling, he'd concluded, as it's hard to breathe and his heart feels like it's getting punched.
Some random demon actually thinks they have a shot with you? It irks him. With a deadly smile, he slinks over to the both of you, before gasping dramatically as he falls against you. "Oh there you are! My beloved, my one and only, my light, my jewel~" He purrs, wrapping his arms around you.
"Oh, hey Asm-" He starts peppering kisses all over your face, and you indulge in them because when Asmodeus is around you truly have no one else on your brain.
Taking a peak, Asmo smirks when the other demon gets visibly uncomfortable and leaves, mumbling embarrassed apologies and curses.
Pulling away from you, you chase after him only to whine when he presses his pointer finger against your lips. He sends you a wink, "Don't worry, you'll receive plenty more later." You nod, taking his hand and smiling gently at him.
"Should we head to class then?"
"Mmhm~" Asmo smiles, proud of himself that you don't remember that nobody from earlier!
꒰ ✿ ꒱ ─── beelzebub
Beelzebub feels ridiculous, he really shouldn't be jealous but when he sees the way his fellow teammates are staring at you in the stands, that ugly feeling bubbles up in his chest. You're waving at him, smiling so brightly it could blind him!
You then hold out your hand for the players to high five, as a 'good job' for all their hard work practicing for an upcoming game, and the players had lined up ready to receive said precious high five- but before anyone could move another inch, Beel was in front of you and had high fived your hand before taking hold of it, interlocking his fingers.
"Huh? Beel? Are you okay?" You ask, worried. His head is hung, mostly because he's trying to hide the blush that's painting his cheeks and ears. He's a little embarrassed for acting in such a manner. Cold to his teammates, and so quick to take action to make it known that you're with him.
"Yeah, I'm alright," He lifts his head, looking up at you with furrowed brows. "Uhm... Well..."
"Yeah?" You encourage, waiting patiently for him to sort out his feelings. You give his hand a gentle squeeze, reassuring him, and he lets out a weak sigh.
"Keep... Keep your eyes only on me, okay?"
Now it's your turn to blush. A bit shocked by his sudden possessive words- although definitely not upset- you nod. "O- Okay! I will!" You squeeze his hand again before retracting it. "Good job practicing today, Beel!" Ruffling his hair, you can't help but admire that cute flustered expression he holds. Even when he's jealous, he's adorable!
꒰ ✿ ꒱ ─── belphegor
"It was a dreeeam!" You shake his shoulders, and he groans and grunts with each shake. He still refuses to speak, though, and avoids your eyes. He's being so pouty and whiny over nothing!
"Belphie, I swear," You drop him and he lands against his plush pillows. You fall on top of him and he grunts against, damn you. "You're always so mean to me, I didn't even do anything."
"Well in my dream you did." He sneers, holding his nose up high. At least he spoke to you! That's progress! You perk up and scoot closer to his face, giving him your best attempt of puppy dog eyes.
"Belphie I would never, ever entertain someone else!" You assure, "So stop being pouty," You start peppering kiss all over his face. "If I could," You mumble against his skin, "I'd beat up dream me for flirting with someone else and then kiss dream you and reassure dream you."
Belphie's eyes widen and he scoffs. "Oh? So you want to kiss dream me and not real me?" You pull back. Is he... being serious right now? Was he even aware of how many kisses you just planted on his face? Also is he seriously jealous of 'dream him'?
You frown, collecting your thoughts quickly. "No! I mean, if dream you isn't real you, the no I wouldn't kiss dream you! I'm only going to kiss my Belphie!"
He stares at you for a second, before smiling. Ah, it seems you've reached the right answer! Rejoicing in getting Belphegor to not be a whiny demon anymore, you wrap your arms around him tightly and close your eyes. That was exhausting, time for a nap!
꒰ ❀ ꒱ thank you for reading. have a wonderful day, darling!
#obey me x reader#obey me imagines#obey me headcanons#obey me fluff#om imagines#om x reader#om headcanons#om fluff#omswd x reader#omswd imagines#omswd headcanons#omswd fluff#lucifer x reader#mammon x reader#leviathan x reader#satan x reader#asmodeus x reader#beelzebub x reader#belphegor x reader
4K notes
·
View notes
Note
You’re so talented and amazing that smut has me SWEATING!!!!
Plsssss part two with Steve taking readers virginity I beg
stop I love you!
cw: 18+ minors dni, smut, inexperienced reader, oral (f and m receiving), virginity loss, p in v, unprotected (sorry I can’t write any other way)
part one
requests are open!!
shockingly, when you went to Steve’s house that night, you two didn’t sleep together. Which was his idea. He said he felt like maybe you two oughta get to know each other better before you went that far. You were visibly upset by that but Steve insisted it would be better that way.
So that’s how you find yourself a couple weeks later, holding hands with him as you walk through the mall. If you didn’t know any better, you’d swear you were dating but Steve didn’t ask you to be his girlfriend. But you two have been spending almost every day together, after work and on your days off. Like today, the pair of you have the day off but you wind up at the mall anyway. He called you this morning and asked if you wanted to hang out. To which you told Steve you needed to get a new pair of shoes for work, since yours were falling apart and he offered to tag along. He even picked you up.
You make eye contact with your coworkers as the pair of you stroll passed the food court. They make crude hand gestures and so you squeeze Steve’s hand and walk faster. He’s none the wiser, eyes scanning around the crowded mall. You catch yourself staring at him. You’ve had this like, really intense feeling in your chest ever since you and Steve started hanging out. It’s tight, almost like your lungs don’t have enough air. And he’s literally all you think about, all you can talk about. Steve, Steve, Steve. On a loop, to a nauseating extent. Not nauseating to you, but most likely to your family and friends. But really, he’s so dreamy.
“Where do you usually get your work shoes?” Steve asks, grazing his thumb against the back of your hand.
“Sears,” you answer honestly. Steve’s parents are in a vastly different tax bracket than your own so you get a little self conscious about these kinds of things. You were incredibly impressed with his house. And it took a good convincing from him to let him come over to yours. Especially because while Steve’s parents weren’t home when you went over there, yours were at yours always. And they were embarrassing, even though you were an adult now, they hovered. And you couldn’t close your door when he came over. Your mom about talked his ears off, too but Steve was charming and when he left, your mom told you he was sweet and she liked him.
“Cool,” he nods, “What do you wanna do after this?”
You shrug, walking into the entrance of Sears, “I don’t know.”
“We can use my pool,” he offers, “It’s really nice out, today.”
You blush, the thought of being in your swimsuit in front of Steve is kind of a lot. Even though you two have messed around, you’ve been almost completely dressed each time. Really, you’ve just been doing the same thing— dry humping but Steve always pulls your tits out. He actually stares at them sometimes, gets this look on his face that makes you feel like a million bucks. His eyes get all glassy and he looks dazed as he watches them bounce with your movements. It makes you feel sexy and you’ve never felt that way in your life. But being so exposed in broad daylight is rather intimidating.
“Yeah, maybe,” you reply shyly, cheeks ruddy at the thought of him seeing your body. “We’d have to go get my swimsuit, though.”
“We’re at a mall,” Steve chuckles, “You can just buy one.”
Well, you didn’t anticipate spending too much today. But again, you’re embarrassed so you won’t say that. You just shrug, “If I can find one.”
“I can help,” he grins, eyebrows raising as he nudges his side against you. Which just makes your face ten times more flushed. “Oh, look!” Steve points to the section of the store lined with swimsuits, “Perfect.”
The pair of you head that way. Steve motions at a red bikini, which is not something you’d usually wear. You’re a one piece kind of girl. But now that you’re thinking about it, the swim suit you have at home isn’t exactly sexy. And really, you want Steve to look at you with that dreamy look in his eyes again.
“That one’s nice,” he says, “And my trunks are red, so we’ll match.”
You pick up the top, looking it over when you realize you have no idea how to tell your size. You’re gonna have to try it on. “I need to try it on,” you tell Steve and grab a few sizes before making your way to the dressing rooms, Steve right behind you.
Much to Steve’s dismay, you don’t show him the bikini but you get the right size and get your pair of shoes. Steve buys you a smoothie on the way out. But what he does on the ride to his house is really what gets you. As he’s driving, he reaches his hand over and rests it on your thigh. His palm against your bare thigh makes them all tingly and you feel like the car is suddenly really hot, so you roll down the window. Looking out because you’re too shy to look at him. Steve squeezes your thigh and you clear your throat, shifting in your seat.
“You alright?” he asks, turning to you briefly.
“I’m fine,” you choke out as you look at him.
“Is this okay?” he squeezes your thigh again.
You swallow the lump rising in your throat and nod your head yes, “Yeah, it feels nice.”
“Good,” he smiles, his eyes crinkling with it and he’s the prettiest boy you’ve ever seen.
❤️❤️❤️❤️
You’re really nervous, fixing your hair as you look in the mirror. You wished Steve gave you a towel to cover up with before you changed because now you have to make an entrance… in this bikini that feels like it barely covers anything. You swear one wrong move and your boobs gonna fly right out. But you think, Steve won’t mind that.
His face confirms it when you finally walk out onto the back patio, seeing Steve laying towels out on the pool loungers. He drops the towel in his hand and his lips part, holding his hand above his brows to shield the sun as he gawks at you. And thankfully, his reaction gives you a breath of confidence and you strut over to him, “Not too bad, huh?”
“Fucking unbelievable,” he breathes through a satisfied smile, “You look amazing.” His hand comes to rest on the back of your waist, dipping his face down to kiss your cheek.
“Steve!” you flush, bringing your hands up to your face. He grabs your wrists and kisses all over face, repeating that you look great over and over. You erupt in giggles, grabbing his hands and pull back.
“What? Too much?” he asks, looking down at you with those gorgeous puppy dog eyes.
“I think… you need to cool off,” you say slyly before shoving him into the pool, jumping in right after him. Steve’s laughing when he comes up from the water, swimming over to you and wrapping his arms around your waist.
“Good one,” he muses, looking fond, “Very clever.”
“I’m glad you thought so,” you giggle, wrapping your arms around his neck. He kisses you then, and immediately you melt. Kissing Steve is like otherworldly. It’s like everything around you disappears and it’s just you two. His lips are soft yet firm, kissing you determinedly. His hands are big, cascading up and down your sides.
But then he pulls away and smiles, “Wanna race? I bet I can swim from this end to the other faster than you.”
“You’re on,” you bet and start swimming to the edge of the pool.
❤️❤️❤️❤️
After you two get out of the pool, your body is all tingly and needy. You dry off and can’t keep your eyes off of Steve’s body as he dries off. Eyes scanning over the constellations of moles scattering over his chest, arms and back. He catches you, biting is lip as he’s drying his hair.
“Steve?”
“Yeah?”
“I think… I want…” you take a deep breath as your face flushes.
“What is it? You okay?” he asks, tilting his head as he gets a look of concern in his eyes.
“I think I’m ready,” you tell him, “ya know.. to do it.”
“Really?” he drops his towel, looking surprised.
“Uh huh,” you nod as you smile, so sure of yourself.
He grabs your hand and practically pulls you up to his bedroom. You fall back on his mattress and he’s crawling up between your legs, palm meeting your cheek gently as he crashes his lips into yours. It’s different than kisses before. Steve seems more urgent, more needy. His hands feel you everywhere, squeezing and pulling wherever he can. It’s intoxicating and makes your stomach twist, full of desire. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him even closer and you can feel his cock strained behind his swim trunks rubbing against your core. It’s familiar, but a bit more charged. There’s more coming and it has your back arching. Steve breaks the kiss, “You’re sure?”
“Yes,” you nod, writhing against him, “I’m sure.”
“Cool,” he breathes, moving his fingers to untie your bikini top and he pulls it off. His lips find your jaw, leaving sloppy open mouthed kisses wherever they can. Down your neck and over the curve of your breasts, then you feel his tongue against your perked nipple and you whine, knitting your fingers in his damp hair.
He flicks his tongue against it, looking up at your face as he broadly licks it before sucking it between his lips. You gasp, tilting your head back as you try to grind against him harder. You’re desperate for more friction there. Steve moans against your supple skin, and then his lips work lower. Down your stomach. And you no longer have his erection to grind against but his fingers dip into the waistband of your bottoms. Your breath catches in your throat, looking down at him in anticipation. He looks so pretty, the sunlight shining through the half closed curtains in his bedroom and casting beautifully on his strong eyebrows and sharp nose.
Steve peels your bottoms down your thighs and you move your legs to help him, hands moving to cover your chest. Otherwise, completely exposed to him. Steve kisses your hipbone, spreading your legs with his hands and then moves his mouth between them. Starts with kissing your thighs, but when he actually gets his mouth on your pussy, you cry out. It’s pleasure in a way you’ve never felt and it’s white hot, feel it everywhere. He licks through your folds, humming softly as he does so. It’s so warm and wet and lovely. Uses his plump lips when he does it, grazing against your folds. And he puts his mouth completely on you, sucks on your folds and his thumb lowers down to your hole, rubbing teasing circles around it and you gasp out. Eyes closing involuntarily as you tilt your head back, focused solely on how incredible this feels.
It’s almost pathetic how quickly he makes you cum, your cry breaks off as it leaves your lips and your thighs squeeze his head while you ride it out. Steve watches you with a look of shock on his face, flattery, really. Impressed with himself at quick he made that happen. Smoothes his palms along the soft skin of your legs as he forces them open, coming up for air. His cheeks are flushed, a pretty pink blooming over them and the tip of his nose.
“Christ,” he exhales, fingers digging into the fat of your thighs as he beams up at you. “You okay, princess?”
Your chest heaves while you come down, eyes blinking open as you let out a sigh. The pet name makes your chest tighten, you want Steve to say it again, over and over. “So okay,” you gasp out as you sit up and look down at him.
He smiles cheekily, nudging his nose against your shaking thighs as he blinks up at you, “You’re sensitive, huh?”
“Nobody’s ever done that to me,” you admit, tucking your hair behind your ear as you flush.
He chuckles softly, keeps nuzzling against your thigh as he smoothes his palms down your calves. “You sure you wanna keep going?”
You nod enthusiastically at him, “W-wanna make you feel good.”
Steve pushes you on your back, gets himself on top of you and places a chaste kiss against your lips, mumbles against them, “That made me feel really good.”
Your hands find his hair, carding in the locks as you kiss his words and roll your hips up to meet him, “I wanna keep going. Maybe I can try.. returning the favor.”
The boy grunts softly into your mouth, the corners of his lips hitching up, “You ever done that before?”
“No,” you pout, feeling a little self conscious but more than that, eager. “I’m a really fast learner, though.”
“I’m.. I,” Steve laughs, breath hot against your mouth, “Might need a break after, but… hell, we’ve got all night.”
“A break?” you ask curiously and Steve nods against you, foreheads bumping together. He cups your cheek, kisses you tenderly.
“Mhm, can’t go again as quick,” he mumbles into your lips, grounds his hips down and you can feel him through his swim trunks. Hard and firm against your sensitive cunt.
You pull him back slightly, looking up at him tenderly as you say, “I really wanna try.”
He laughs again, breathless and it’s not mean, it makes your heart warm. The sound of him. Pretty and sweet. Makes you that much eager to please; to impress.
Steve rolls onto his back, inches up against his pillows and looks at you, eyes dark despite the fond smile spreading on his face. You sit beside him and your fingers find the elastic of his shorts, inching inside and looking up at him for guidance. He nods, short and soft. You pull down his damp trunks and his cock bounces out, long and thick against his abdomen. He helps rid of the shorts completely, kicking them off his ankles and then he rakes his fingers through your hair. Tilts his head as he looks down at you and says, “Just do what feels natural, princess.”
Your cheeks heat at the name, blooming down your neck and chest. Curious fingers graze down his length, Steve breathes out a pretty sound— almost a whine, kind of a sigh. Then you wrap your fingers around him, biting your lip at the warmth and weight. He inhales sharply, nodding at you as you lean forward and press your lips to the tip. Experimentally, you lick against the head of his cock and then drag your tongue across the edge of it. Steve groans, keeps stroking your cheek and forehead as he watches you with pupils blown wide.
“That’s it, baby,” he breathes out, “doing so good already.”
You’ve still got your fingers circled around his shaft, holding his cock up as you lick the tip like an ice cream cone. But you know you’re supposed to suck, that’s what you’ve been told at least. So you wrap your lips around the head and do just that. It punches a pretty sound from Steve’s throat, distinctly a whine. So you do it again and again and Steve keeps making that sound over and over before he says, “Move your hand, princess. Slow, up and down.”
Head feeling all dizzy, you listen and slowly stroke his cock up and down. But it’s kinda awkward— dry. You think it would work smoother if your palm was wet so you pull away and lick your hand before returning it to Steve’s cock, and you were right, the movement is so much easier like this and Steve moans, eyes blinking rapidly as he watches you.
“Such a fast learner, good girl,” he pants out and you’re smiling, cheeks swelling before you take his tip back between your lips.
You like this— a lot. Grinding down against the mattress for some friction, thighs all hot and slick with arousal. It’s the way he reacts, the sounds he makes and the way his face contorts in pleasure. Steve was pretty before but he looks even prettier like this. He bites at his lower lip, makes it even pinker and plumper. You sink a little more of him into your mouth, careful with your teeth as you swirl your tongue around his swollen tip and then suck. Your jaw aches slightly but it’s so worth it. Steve’s fingers slide into the roots of your hair, gripping softly as he moans out little encouragements.
“So pretty, so pretty like this.”
And it’s kind of silly because you think he looks so pretty like this. You squeeze his shaft a little tighter as you stroke him, out of pure excitement and Steve groans, guttural and low as he swears, “Fuuuuck.”
You suck harder on his tip and continue moving your fingers up and down his length, curving your palm on each upstroke because Steve’s eyes roll back slightly and you want more of that.
“Just like that— holy—- fuckfuckfuck,” Steve pants and moans, “I’m gonna cum.”
Out of pure curiosity, you don’t pull off. Because also, when you came, Steve didn’t pull away. He makes a choked, broken sound and releases, hot and thick on your tongue. And you’d heard all your coworkers complain about the taste but Steve is sweet, not bitter like you’ve been told. You don’t hate the taste at all, though the texture is another story. But you swallow it down all the same and Steve’s watching and gasping for air as you pull away. He grabs hold of your face, pulls you close and then wraps his arms around your body, kissing you fiercely, bruisingly.
❤️❤️❤️❤️
It happens later. Steve’s parents away on yet another business trip, a white lie told to yours about staying the night at a friends and there you are. On his couch. Steve laid on his back, you nestled between his thighs with your cheek on his chest and his legs tangled with you. He plays with your hair as the TV plays late night informercials. You’re not paying attention, mind wandering as you subtly take in the smell of Steve. Musk and summer, his honey scented shampoo and the sugary candy you two shared on his breath. Fans your face hotly and lovely. Tickles against the ridge of your brows, cascades down to your nostrils and it’s rather intoxicating. Ushers you to lift your face and inch up his body, wanting to taste as you brush your lips against his. His hand snakes down your spine, onto the soft skin at the small of your back, your shirt pulled up just slightly. Steve kisses you back tenderly, sighing so softly you almost miss it.
A thought tugs at the back of your head and you ask against his lips, “What are we?”
Steve hums, eyebrow raising as he smiles, “What do you mean?”
“Like… we spend every day together, we kiss, we… do other stuff,” you swallow hard, chest tightening with fear as you repeat, “So what are we?”
He nudges his nose against yours, “What do you wanna be, princess?”
“Yours,” you admit, a whisper. Almost silent.
“You are mine,” Steve replies, squeezing your hip in his hand. You flush something mad, trying to surprise the giggle of excitement from bubbling out of your throat. It’s fruitless, the sound erupting from you as your cheeks swell. Steve kisses you again, softly and asks against your lips, “You wanna be my girlfriend, princess?”
You nod as you kiss back, “Mhm.”
“Then you’re my girlfriend,” Steve agrees easily, his breath smells so sweet, makes your head all fuzzy.
“And you’re my boyfriend?” you test, hand moving up to cup his jaw.
“You better believe it,” he mumbles, you can hear the smile but even better you can feel it against your lips. You kiss him again, more intent behind it this time— fingernails softly scratching at his jaw. Steve drags his tongue along your bottom lip, asking to deepen the kiss which you eagerly agree as you part your lips. He tastes like candy, tooth achingly sweet when you welcome his skilled tongue against your own. It heats up quick, your hips dancing together as the pair of you pant into each others mouths. Steve’s hands lower to the fat of your ass, kneading and pulling. Your thighs feel all tingly, core aching with desperation for him.
You’re determined, you’ve been wanting Steve in that way for so long it feels like and he’s been taking his time with you. Testing the waters when you would’ve handed it over to him that first night in Scoops Ahoy!
“Stevie,” you pant against his mouth, “need you.”
“You have me, princess,” he retorts, smiling sweetly as he uses his leverage on your ass to grind you down against him. You can feel his length, hard and firm against your core and you whimper, needy.
“Need you— Steve, want you so bad,” you babble into his mouth as you writhe against him.
He taps your bum, “Up. Bedroom.”
You obey, don’t have to be told twice, holding his hand as he leads you to his bedroom. He kisses you once you’re inside, guides you backwards until the backs of your knees hit the mattress and you fall into it, pulling Steve with you, refusing to pull your lips away from his. Which is a feat when you two start undressing one another. When you do have to pull away to rid of articles, you whine and Steve chuckles, gives you what you want seconds later. Smoothes his hands down your naked body as he licks into your mouth. He pulls back, on his knees between your legs as he licks the tips of his fingers and brings them to your core, exhaling sharply once he’s met with the evidence of just how much you need him.
This is it, you think. As he licks his fingers again and smears the saliva over his aching tip, guiding it towards your entrance and you whine out, just when skin meets skin. Readier than ever, overwhelmingly desperate to feel Steve inside you. Your back arches as he sinks in, just the tip of him stretching you open. It’s pleasure incarnate, radiates through your stomach and eats at all your nerves.
“More,” you plead, grabbing onto his biceps as you roll your hips. Steve sinks in deeper and it’s a little intense, searing and hot and also so, so, so perfect. Pulls a high pitched moan from you. Steve’s rubbing soothing circles against your stomach.
“Tell me if it’s too much, yeah?”
You nod, digging your nails into his skin. Making little crescent indents. He lowers his mouth to yours, grazing your lips together as he sheathes his cock deeper inside. You gasp out, eyes clenching tightly at the burn. Steve kisses you through it, whispers words of encouragement there. Princess this and princess that. Pushes through this barrier and it’s all white hot pleasure. Bright light behind your eyelids as you moan out appreciation, adoration, desperation. His hips still, giving you the opportunity to adjust. Kisses you stupid with sugary sweetness. Tastes just like candy. Your hands are all over him, chest, stomach, shoulders, neck and back. Crying out soft little praising sounds.
He grits his teeth, eyebrows tangled as he pleads, “Please— princess, can I move?”
“Please,” you beg, “Gimme…” the thoughts lost as Steve winds his hips back and pushes them back down into you. A moan interrupting, voice wrecked already and Steve swallows it, kisses it away as he rolls his hips steadily. Keeps this rhythm that has your eyes rolling back and steady, candied uh-uh-uh’s fall from your lips.
Steve’s left hand holds himself up, palm to the mattress while his right grips tightly at your hip. Your legs open, ankles hooking over the backs of his thighs and your hands are still everywhere, taking in whatever you can. The way he’s stretching you out and filling you up at the same time is intoxicating, euphoria dripping all over you. You’re almost mad that you’d waited so long but it’s all too perfect. And maybe Steve’s been right and waiting is what made this moment the best thing you’ve ever experienced.
His lips are brutal against yours, pushing and pulling. Desperate and hungry. These pretty grunts and moans mushing against your lips.
“Steve,” you whine out, “god…”
He moves to grab your jaw, tilting your head back into the pillows as he moves his hips quicker, harder. Makes your head spin, the coil in your stomach winding tighter and tighter. All you can really do is lay back and take it, mind gone all numb. Your hips search his out, rocking back into him with every thrust. The tip of his cock reaching something fierce and overwhelming inside you. Brushes against this spot so wonderfully that tears prick your eyes, threatening to spill over onto your cheeks.
“So perfect for me,” he mumbles into your mouth, “so pretty, so fuck— fucking gorgeous, princess.”
This wave rushes up on you like nothing before, punches the breath out of your lungs as you grip onto his back, nails scratching down the mole specked skin and Steve groans roughly against your mouth. Your eyes are open but you’re blinded by stars, exploding like fireworks as your eyebrows furrow and you emit a sound so loud, bordering on a cry. It’s like the drop of a roller coaster but a million times more intense, you’re not on this earth for the seconds it happens. Legs wrapping around his waist, crying out during the aftershocks of it. Steve’s panting against your lips, little whines and moans. Pretty sounds that just elongate the utter ecstasy ripping through your body.
“Fuckfuck— shit, princess, I’m gonna—“ Steve pulls out of you abruptly, fingers gripping around his cock as he spills over onto your stomach. Makes a choked and broken sound as he does it, your eyes are on his face. Watching the pleasure contort his features in a way that has you obsessed. He pants, chest heaving as he pushes his hair back. Catches his breath, leans down and kisses you softly before exiting the bed. You whine in protest, reaching your hands out for him.
Steve smiles sweetly at you, grabs a dirty towel from his hamper and moves to wipe his cock. You watch in awe, still coming back down to earth. He moves back towards the bed, using the towel to clean off your stomach. He drops it to the floor and curls up next you, pulling your face to his and kisses you stupid.
“Worth the wait?” he asks, teasingly.
You giggle and say against his lips, “When can we do it again?”
He laughs, pulling your body flush to his as he says, “You’re gonna kill me, princess.”
#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington smut#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x fem!reader#steve harrington x female reader smut#steve harrington x fem#steve harrington x y/n smut
929 notes
·
View notes
Text
Pairing: Astarion x reader
Prompt: In which you couldn't convince Astarion not to become the Vampire ascendant, but still do not allow him to do the ritual.
Description: You really did fall so hard, and so, so fast. No wonder when the ground came to meet you did it hurt just as much. But perhaps its not too late to stand back up again, if someone was willing to lend a hand.
Rating: sfw
Content Warning: hurt/comfort
Word Count: 3018
Notes: I had to save scum this so much on my file that was romancing him. And well I be thinking about him a lot lately... I litterally have no idea where these words came from btw so I hope u enjoy them!
“It’s over,” Said with such disdain, such pain and hurt, directed your way. “I’m done with this, and I’m done with you.” Venom, dripping and cold. What happened to the warmth in those eyes? To the love that once shown in them, when he looked your way? “I would say good luck out there, but honestly? I hope you die screaming.” He looked so broken, so hurt.
You hardly remembered what came next, beyond your own tears. Astarion simply… left. Walk away as you crumpled to the ground, in disbelief. As you begged him to say. When you told him, over and over again, that you loved him.
Karlach and Shadowheart must have dragged you out of those dungeons, otherwise you might still be there, wallowing in your pity. You don’t remember how long it had been since then. Since you had stopped Cazador from ascending, freed Astarion from his grasp… and tried to convince him not to ascend himself. Your words may have failed, but your actions didn’t; you didn’t let him use your eyes to copy his scars. You couldn’t.
All for him to walk away.
You hadn’t really been the same, since then. Where once you were the leader of your little ragtag group of adventurers, now you couldn’t find it in you to leave your tent. Well… Astarion’s tent, actually. You never had one of your own. And when the two of you got together, it just seemed natural to share.
Gale had taken over in leading everyone for day to day adventuring on your behalf. Even though you wished it, the world would not slow down because you were hurt. No kindness spared on your broken, broken heart. Yet you couldn’t stop wondering where you went wrong. Were the two of you not as close as you thought? Could you have been more convincing, hell, more intimidating, anything to have kept him by your side?
You think, right now, it’s night. Your candle’s are all stuffed out, the bustle of the streets beyond are quiet, and you can’t hear the patter and stomps of Scratch and the owlbear cub playing around camp. Your tears have all but dried, even if your sorrow remains as fresh as a new wound. No, all is silent in this moment.
You take a deep breath. Yes, it would be best to sleep. Maybe tomorrow, you would wake up and feel like a person again. One who could attend to all her duties. And maybe even get back on the path to save Baldur’s gate.
But sleep never comes for those whose hearts are so heavy. This isn’t the first night you’ve lied awake, thoughts wondering. All for the better, perhaps-- because in the heavy quiet of the cities dark night, you hear the flap of your tent open with the utmost quietness. And you, just as quiet, sit up from your laying position. Who ever has invaded your space must have dark vision, for they pause upon seeing your form and do not move an inch.
“I can see you there.” Your voice comes out, gravelly and rough. You don’t sense your in danger, though, even as your heart beats and pounds in your chest. Who would be stupid enough to steal from a camp full of adventurers, with an owlbear lurking around no less. Still, with some trepidation, you cast the cantrip for light, and watch as your messy tent (and new guest) are bathed in cool, blue light.
“Oh,” Is all you think to say. You can’t really trust your eyes, so you rub the days of built up sleep and sorrow from them. No, you can’t even speak his name as you stare upon him. But you dare not look away. Even if it was a dream, it was him. It was him.
“...You’re a mess.” His words are soft, quiet. He seems to relax a little when he sees you make no movement.
“...I suppose I am.” You clear your throat a little after speaking, if only because a new lump seems to be forming now that you look to him. “How… how can I help you, Astarion?”
“Gods…” He heaves a heavy sigh, looking over your pitiful form. “I’ve hurt you this much, and you still think to help me? Are you stupid?” He shakes his head in disbelief.
“Perhaps.” You nod softly. “Stupid enough to fall in love with you, after all.” You can only smile weakly at him.
“I came here too…” He frowns, looking away from you for a moment. “Well it doesn’t matter why I came back. You clearly need some sense knocked back into you.” With that, he moves in closer to you. Surprised, you move in a little in order to accommodate him. You try to ignore the beating of your heart, ignore the hope that rises within you like a phoenix from its ashes.
“What… are you going to do?” You turn to him, nestled into your side like he might have been not too long ago.
“Talk, as terrible as that sounds.” He keeps his gaze down, looking at the messed up bedding.
“Talk?” You repeat. “I thought you… didn’t want to see me again.”
“Well, that was then. This is now.” Astarion looks to you. To the bags built up under your eyes. Your cheeks, still rosy and sensitive with just how many tears you’ve shed (for him, no less). Your hair is unkempt and as gross as you are, all he can see is someone that loves him… “I… said and did some terrible things during that ritual. Things that… looking back, I may not have done were I in the right head space.” He swallows hard. “I was… scared. And the promise of power, the smell of blood… it was all so intoxicating, I forgot myself there for a moment.”
The two of you sit in the silence a moment, festering in it. Words dance on the tip of your tongue but Astarion isn’t done speaking. He, too, needs a moment to compose himself. “But… you never forgot who I was.” He looks to you, something soft, something sad, something gentle written into the contours of his face. Even as he turns to you, he struggles to meet your eyes-- shining, glimmering, with something sweet and promising and loving in them. Something that he doesn’t deserve; not after the actions he took that day.
“You did everything in your power to convince me what I was doing was wrong, but all I could see then was the security that power could bring me.” He closes his eyes, taking a sharp intake of air though his nose. “I was so blinded, I could not see that with you by my side, I was the happiest I’ve ever been these past 200 years…” As he opens his eyes, he looks down to his folded hands, then over to yours. You realize that even if he is so close… Astarion hesitates to touch you. Maybe he felt as if he wasn’t allowed to do so any more, or perhaps felt he was no longer worthy… Whatever the reason, it breaks your heart just a little bit more.
“I… see.” It’s a lot to soak up. That in the moment, you couldn’t reach him but in the days sense Astarion has realized… maybe this was for the better.
“You saved me from becoming the very man I lived in fear of, and all I gave you in return was heartbreak.” He seeks your eyes, his own wide and wet and you realize he’s crying now. Tears flood your eyes as well, because he was right; you cared for him so much, though, it almost didn’t seem to matter. Almost. “How can I ever expect you to forgive me?” With that, he breaks, closing his eyes roughly and crying out, sobbing into his own hands.
All you can do in that moment is cry with him. Two, love sick idiots broken and hurt but not beyond mending-- not yet.
“It’s okay,” You find yourself struggling to say the words, even as you usher him into your arms and hold him. He does not hesitate to hold you in turn, to cry unto you as you into him. “We’ll be okay, I promise, I promise.” Your words come out as prayer as you hold him close. “Just don’t leave again, please!”
“I won’t, I won’t.” Astarion seems to compose himself more quickly than you do, but he does not let go, even as you know your tears stain his shirt. “I’ve got you and I won’t leave you ever again.” He rubs his hand along your back slowly, doing his best to try and comfort you in the same way you have for him in the past. It’s a long moment before you feel yourself begin to breathe normally again, before your tears once again dry and you find yourself staring into his red eyes once more.
“I love you,” Your words are softer than a whisper, said with a trembling smile.
“I love you too.” Astarion responds in kind, resting his forehead against yours. You two stay content a moment before he speaks again. “But you’re disgusting-- let me take care of you.” He pulls away from you and your left no room to argue. You merely blink, owlishly, as he pulls back. He moves to stand but you grab his hand.
“Where are you going?” You hold on to him with both hands now, and he has to pause to take the sudden fear on your face. Astarion had planned to leave to return with a little wash bin and rag but seeing you so distraught makes him pause. Of course, the last time he walked away from you he didn’t return…
“We’re going to get you cleaned up.” With a bit of a struggle, Astarion gets you to rise to your feet next to him. “Don’t make it more difficult than it has to be.” He adds. You nod slowly, still a little on edge from the panic that just flooded your system but nonetheless, trusting Astarion.
So, with the difficulty that comes with only having one hand, Astarion pins open the flaps of the tent (your light cantrip soon goes out as well, but the inside is illuminated but the torchlight of your camp). Some of the stale air you had been living in gets to escape, and you’re able to take a fresh breath of air you hadn’t realized you needed.
Astarion gathers his wash bin, and the rag, and with you in tow, rummages through that the travelers chest you seem to toss anything and everything into. But, avoiding unmatched boots and careful not to prick himself on all the arrows that are in there (and trying not to think about how they were likely dumped in there after he left), he finds what he was looking for-- some soap. And though the water is cold, and the night is cool, at least with a little bit of soap and his careful hand, it’s not all bad.
“You need to wash these clothes too,” Astarion huffs. “I know you have other things, so let’s get you into something cleaner.” You’re guided back into your shared tent (which is already starting to smell better, but the scented water is helping as well) while Astarion rifles though your clothing. Here together again, you finally let go of his hand but stay close to him.
“Thank you…” You pause, watching him pick out something comfortable and warm. “I can take care of myself, though.” You add, taking the clothing from him.
“I’m sure you can-- but I want to take care of you.” He doesn’t let go of your clothing as you try and take it. “So, let me.” His gaze flicks up to your eyes and you’re surprised to see him look so stubborn.
“Oh,” You let go of the clothing, surprised. “I… That would be nice.” You say it quietly, still too caught up in him being here, being real and touching you, loving you.
“Now, out of the nasty clothing, if you would.” He persists, grabbing the hem of your current shirt. He pauses before lifting it though, looking to your face. “That is, if you’re okay with me…” he trails, unsure.
“It’s you, so it’s okay.” You assure him. You raise your hands so he can take off the offending, stinky shirt, and toss it aside. Next, he removes your pants, tossing them the same direction.
“This might be a little cold,” Astarion tells you, but it doesn’t stop the flinch (nor the shiver) as the cool rag touches your skin. Still, his touch is delicate and careful.
He first wipes your face (part of it, still covered in blood and dirt from that same battle). He dips and wrings out the rag, before continuing his work. Your chest, your arms, legs-- all of you, gently washed and cared for. You realize this is the first time he’s been so intimate with you in a non sexual way. It’s… nice. To see his brow furrowed in concentration, have his hands upon you just hold you. It’s not like the two of you went entirely without touching one another in that time, but to have him initiating it, warms you.
“Now, back in your clothing before you catch a cold.” You nod at him and smile, sliding on the familiar pants and shirt with comfort and ease.
“I already feel a lot better, thank you.” He smiles softly, but sits you back down.
“Just let me attend to this rats nest, and we can be done.” Astarion reaches for his comb, and sits beside you. “Lean back so I can wet your hair,” He guides you down, with your head over the basin, and cups his hand to gather water before wetting your hair.
You let his work quietly, until your hair is wet and he can begin working out the knots starting at the ends. When the comb runs freely to your hair, he grabs the soap and carefully massages it into your scalp, scratching here in there. You let out a sigh in content, and Astarion can’t help but smile softly.
He was still shocked that you even talked to him-- let alone let him touch you. But the two of you needed this. To hold and be held, to love and let go. He truly was a fool to ever think he could be without you. But he was lucky, then, that you were fool enough to let him back in.
With your hair washed, combed, and dried and the water dumped and wash bin put aside, Astarion let you sit back up and look at him. “So… what happens next?” You ask softly.
“Well… I’m not sure.” He admits. “I didn’t think you would forgive me so… I hadn’t really thought much beyond that.”
“I suppose we get our rest, then.” You heave a heavy sigh. “I know I’ve taken enough time off from adventuring… And you have some friends who deserve an explanation as well.”
“More talking?” Astarion groans softly, but makes no move to leave your side as you lie down and tug him with you. “But… you are right.”
“You’ll be okay.” You give him a good, full body squeeze. “Everyone here cares for you. They’ll be willing to hear you out.”
“Perhaps only with you by my side.” He lets out a little chuckle. “But… that’s not such a bad thing.” He readjusts in your grasp, snuggling close and turning towards you. “Rest well, darling.” He kisses the top of your head, and smiles down at your sleepy expression.
“I will, now that you’re here…” It didn’t take long for sleep to find you, wound up in Astarion’s arms. You hadn’t slept so well in days, and who was he to wake you when you looked so peaceful…? It seemed like time passed so quickly with you in his arms, and before long he could hear the sounds of everyone else waking in camp.
Astarion couldn’t help but grow anxious as footsteps grew closer to the tent. “Solider, you in there?” Karlach’s voice called out. “I know you haven’t been very hungry lately, but I brought you some breakfast…” Unable to do anything to stop her, Astarion watched as Karlach pokes her head into the tent. With the morning light, they could only stare at one another a moment.
“Shh, just let them sleep a while longer…” Astarion turned from Karlach, and brushed some stray hairs from your face. “When they’re ready to wake up, I’ll… I’ll be ready to.” He turns from you, back to Karlach, a look of surprise and glee on her face.
“Right! Right… I’ll be quiet!” She gives him a little thumbs up and quickly retreats from the tent. But… Astarion can hear Karlach, even if she is all the way across camp. First, she tells Jaheira, then Minsc, and Minthara and Lae’zel overhear… Then Wyll, Shaodowheart and Halsin of course overhear and then Gale finds out, and now the whole camp is aware that he’s back here even if they are being remarkable polite about it….
Still, it brings a smile on his face. To know they were so excited to see him again (maybe even if it was only to see you happy again) was a comforting thought. To be among friends… That was something truly special indeed.
“Astarion…?” You wake slowly, eyes barely open as you look to him, hold him a little tighter.
“I’m here,” Astarion assures you, giving you a squeeze in return.
“Good…” You close your eyes and cuddle back into him, letting out a small yawn. “Let’s stay alone for just a little longer yet.”
“That can be arranged.” He can’t help but smile, and relax into you. Everyone else could wait a little longer yet-- you deserved what ever you wanted in this moment. And if that happened to be him, well, Astarion was in no place to say no.
#astarion x tav#astarion x reader#baldur's gate 3 fanfic#bg3 x reader#just... thinking about how alone and afriad he would feel after that#made me kind of insane
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
It's just another boring day running the store, even more boring than normal since Robin’s out sick. There’s not any kids around either, the beanbags by the bookshelves have been empty all day.
Steve’s working his shift alone. It’s all very mundane, just waiting for the clock to run out. That is, until the door flies open.
It’s just a flash of black clothing and the clinking of metal accessories as the figure suddenly barrels right over the counter. Steve shouts and immediately reaches for the nail bat— yes the nail bat— he keeps behind the register. He brandishes it menacingly as the person stands upright.
It’s a man, with crazy wild hair and even crazier eyes, widening comically at the bat and holding his hands up. He squawks at Steve.
“Whoa, hey! What is that thing?! What the hell, man!?”
“Don’t ‘what the hell’ me, I’m the one what the helling you here!” Steve snaps back.
“What!”
“Just tell me what you think you’re doing here, punk!”
Something like disbelief comes over his face, and he lowers his hands to gesture over himself, “Dude, I’m clearly a metalhead.”
“I’m gonna put some metal in your head if you don’t start talking,” Steve snarls, gripping the bat tighter.
“Okay, okay!” His hands flail, shifty eyes bugging out the front windows before he suddenly crouches down behind the counter, “Just let me hide out here for a minute, there’s— people after me that I can’t deal with right now.”
“Oh yeah, what 'people’?” Steve narrows his eyes at the expensive looking chain dangling around his neck, some kind of red pendant on it, “Did you get caught stealing from the jewelry store next door?”
Again, he gives that look, not the typical guilty look when Steve chases down the usual petty thief, he just looks like he can’t believe he’s in this situation, as if he’s not the one that hopped over the counter.
“I didn’t steal anything, alright? I just need to wait here until it’s all clear.”
“Mr. Simon is chasing you, isn’t he?” Steve groans, lowering the bat to rub his hand over his face. He hates that old jeweler, always complaining about Steve taking his parking space when he doesn’t even have a car to use it. “Christ, okay. He might have a war flashback and actually kill you, and I already have enough shit on my conscience. You got two minutes.”
“Five?”
“One and a half.”
“Okay, Jesus. Two please and I’ll let you have a picture after, whatever you want.”
Steve thinks it’s a weird thing to offer at first, then it clicks.
“Yeah, I do want a picture ‘cause your ass is going on the banned wall,” Steve points the bat to the array of photos on the back wall, right up there with the little pricks that kept asking what shelf the skin mags were on, and the asshole that was rude to Robin once.
The guy looks over and he… chuckles, “Starting to think I picked the wrong counter to hide behind.”
Steve glares when he’s met with the stranger’s smile, “You think?”
“The rainbows in the window caught my eye, thought they were pretty cool,” he gives Steve a kind, but measured look, “I’m assuming the bat is for people who don’t?”
That rocks Steve a little. The subtle touches of rainbow decorating the storefront were Robin’s idea, just a welcoming sign for those who know what it means, who need it. Which, apparently, is this guy too, dark eyes watching as Steve makes the connection.
Plus, the kind of kids that get off the bus and hang out in the beanbag corner of the bookstore, also tend to be the type that bullies flock to, but not here, Steve makes sure of that. Not with the nail bat, that’s for things more serious than school bullies.
“Is that who’s after you?” Steve asks, shooting a look out the window. His gut starts to twist in some form of empathy for the guy, it would make sense why he hurtled inside so quickly.
“No, nothing like that, but I still need to lay low for a second.”
Steve squints, empathy gone.
“Okay well, the bat is for thieves too, then. You know, Mr. Simon might be a mean old shit, but he doesn’t deserve to be stolen from. He’s got a family, dude.”
“Well, isn’t that admirable. Look, I appreciate what you’re doing here, the whole local protector, vigilante bat-man thing, it’s pretty badass,” A pun. This would-be thief really just made a damn pun about Steve’s would-be murder weapon. “But I didn’t take anything from anyone, Stevie boy.”
Pun forgotten, Steve grips the bat tighter, demanding to know, “How do you know my name?”
Another annoying smile as the guy gestures to his chest, where Steve’s name tag is. Right.
“Tell me yours,” he counters, noticing how the guy’s smile falters, looking hesitant, crouching lower, hiding. Steve sighs, “I’m not gonna go to the cops, man. Your face is going on the wall and your name is going on the list.”
This guy is just smirking way too much for someone in his situation, “Wow, I must be real special then. It’s Eddie. Eddie Munson.”
“Okay then, Munson,” Steve narrows his eyes at the necklace again, “If you didn’t take anything, then where’d you get that chain, huh?”
This Eddie looks caught off guard, his mouth already formed into some excuse that Steve cuts off.
“Just hand it over,” he flourishes the bat this time, satisfied with how Eddie looks both impressed and intimidated. His eyes stay on Steve as he removes the necklace, dark and alive with something, like he’s enjoying this somehow.
“Okay fine, easy with that thing, big boy. You can keep it for now as collateral for letting me stay.”
He passes Steve the chain, and Steve doesn’t want to fuss with his jean pockets so he just slips it over his head, Eddie’s eyes tracking where it falls around his neck. He sees it’s not a pendant like he thought, it’s a red guitar pick resting against his chest. Not Simon’s usual merchandise, but the chain definitely is, it’s expensive, Steve can tell.
“But, as good as it looks on you, I’m gonna need it back when you realize it’s not stolen.”
Annoyance. That’s the flare of heat Steve feels, it has to be, this whole exchange is getting him hot under the collar. He obviously knows Eddie’s hitting on him, not the first time he caught someone up to no good, and they clocked the rainbows and tried to flirt their way out of it. And this guy isn’t bad looking, maybe under different circumstances in a nice bar somewhere, Steve would flirt right back, but he’s not falling for it now.
He’s glad the couple minutes are up, doesn’t know why he checks out the windows to make sure it’s all clear for Eddie.
Bat still in hand, he makes Eddie stand while he fishes out the polaroid camera behind the counter.
“Don’t you want to get in the photo?” Eddie asks.
Steve’s free hand snaps to his hip, “And why would I want that?”
“Right,” Eddie grins, sticking out his tongue when Steve holds up the camera, throwing up that same hand sign that Dustin keeps making nowadays when the flash goes off. “No fun kissin’ a picture of yourself. Or, maybe it is when you look like you do.”
Steve rolls his eyes, “Playing cute with me isn’t gonna get you off the hook,” and sits the newly printed polaroid on the counter, ignoring the way his cheeks feel hot. It’s just the adrenaline coming down.
He finally puts the bat away, still watching warily as Eddie comes closer, picking up a pen and scribbling what looks to be his phone number on the photo.
“Gotta say, this was nice, Steve. I’d love to do it again sometime,” he smirks, hopping back over the counter the same way he came, “I mean it though, give me a call about that necklace. What kinda rockstar would I be without my lucky guitar pick?”
“Yeah right,” Steve snorts, “I don’t wanna catch you around here again. I never forget a face, Munson, especially not yours.”
“I’m flattered,” he pats his hand over his heart, then throws Steve a wave as he pushes open the door, “Keep that up and you can call me anytime.”
One last wink that sort of makes Steve’s chest flutter and he’s gone. It’s nothing, just some crazy guy that annoyed him half to death, and he hopes he never sees again.
When his shift ends later that evening, he goes next door to try and return the necklace to Mr. Simon, but he insists that it wasn’t stolen from his shop.
Steve’s starting to think he may have accidentally robbed someone at nail-bat-point. But it’s not possible because that’s not possible. How do you accidentally rob someone? What crime would he even be charged with? A little oopsie burglary? Ridiculous.
No, the old man is just out of his mind and doesn’t recognize his own shit. It’s the only thing that would make sense in that whole bizarre situation. Who else would Eddie have been ‘hiding’ from? Why else was it so urgent that he handed over the necklace without much fuss?
It’s not until days later when Dustin hops onto the counter that Steve really realizes.
“Steve,” Dustin says slowly, “Why am I looking at a picture of Eddie freaking Munson on the banned wall?”
Steve looks around, “That guy? You know him? I caught him stealing from Mr. Simon the other day.”
“You— He— What!? He was here?” Dustin sputters, “Steve, I’m 1000% sure he wasn’t stealing shit! What did you do to him?”
“I did my job, Henderson. I banned him from the store and got back the necklace he took— What— Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Steve.”
It’s over the course of the next conversation, getting completely chewed up and spit out by Dustin that Steve learns he didn’t just accidentally rob someone.
“STEVE.”
He accidentally robbed a world famous rockstar.
Steve spends the next few days so deeply embarrassed that he can’t even dare to pick up the phone. He gave Eddie such a hard time when all he needed was a place to hide out so he didn’t get mobbed by fans and paparazzi.
Looking back on it, knowing what he knows now, Eddie handled it with such grace. Steve’s even more ashamed, not because of the whole rockstar thing, but because it's shitty to hurl accusations and a deadly nail bat at anyone, and take their stuff on top of that.
He finally bolsters up the courage to dial the number. As soon as he hears ‘what’s up, it’s Munson’ on the other line, he lets loose a string of apologies and a promise to give the necklace back as soon as he can.
It gets cut short with that same chuckle that still gives him a warm chill even down the phone line.
“Keep it. Looks better on you,” he can hear the smile in Eddie’s voice, “But that means you’re gonna have to come to my show tonight. Can’t play without my lucky guitar pick, can I?”
#and that’s steve’s meet cute gone wrong with his rockstar boyfriend#steddie#eddie munson#steve harrington#rockstar eddie munson#steddie fic#famous eddie munson#steddie ficlet#bookstore owner steve#eddie munson headcanon#my fics#steve harrington headcanon#rueswriting#steddie headcanon#steddie fanfic#stranger things#meet cute#maybe i’ll fluff this up into a full fic at some point who knows
5K notes
·
View notes
Text
Interlude: Above the sky
IU X Minatozaki Sana X Male Reader
You sigh as you sit in one of the chairs at the airport.
It has been a while, since you last flew with a commercial airplane. You are headed to Italy. There is an urgent meeting, involving everyone, who is important at the Diesel company. You can proudly say that you are one of them. Unfortunately though, your jet is currently being repaired and refurbished.
Waiting for the call to board the plane, you occasionally glance at the incoming passengers, while working on your laptop.
When you suddenly hear the sounds of cameras flashing and cheers, you turn around in your seat. Two women, who are being swarmed by reporters walk towards your gate.
Great. More noise. You sigh as you realize you won't be able to keep working. Luckily, boarding time starts soon.
As the women slowly get closer, you see that one of them is wearing a fancy looking suit outfit and one is wearing a simple black dress. The large bow in the second woman's hair makes her look cute. And smaller than she actually is. Because in that moment, you realize who is walking in your direction.
IU. The woman you and Miyeon had.... fun with. You wonder if she still remembers you. Not being able to identify the other woman, you are glad you are now able to board the plane.
You don't think IU saw you as you walk towards the door.
At the door the captain and the crew welcome you. Being the owner of the airline you are flying with is somewhat beneficial. Although you tried to hide it as much as possible. You usually don't like too much attention, especially when you are busy or on your way to a meeting.
Sitting down in first class, you enjoy the comfort of the chair. The blue interior matches the plane's exterior as you look around. This is somewhat your airplane after all.
It takes only a couple of minutes, before you aren't the only one in first class anymore. People start to take their seats, while you take the laptop out of your bag.
Sitting in the middle seat, you don't believe your eyes, when you see the two women sit down on your right. IU on the left, the other on the right. You could've sworn you saw her somewhere before. Guessing from the way she looks, she must be an idol as well. You see her smile. It's probably one of the cutest things you have ever seen.
Wanting to tease the older woman, you lean through the small aisle towards her.
"Can I get an autograph?"
You can't hide a teasing grin as she turns around. Her eyes widen when she seems to recognize you.
"Surprise."
"What-"
She stops, her mouth open.
"Is he a friend?"
The girl's voice sounds as cute as she looks.
"Kind of. Nice to meet you, (y/n)."
You reach around IU to shake her hand.
"Minatozaki Sana. It's a pleasure."
You watch IU looking at Sana's hand in yours, before you pull away. Not without your hand grazing against her chest. No one would notice except her. You see her look down, biting her lip.
You remember how needy she was last time, although it partially might have been the alcohol.
"How do the two of you know each other?"
IU's eyes grow wide as she hears Sana's question. For an actress, she isn't very good at hiding her surprise.
"Well.... We..."
"She was attending the opening of my restaurant."
"Oh really? Which one?"
"It's in Paris. I doubt you know it."
Sana seems to be thinking hard.
"Ah. The one Lisa went to?"
You nod.
"Exactly. I'm happy that you seem to know it."
"Of course I do. I heard the food is very delicious there."
While she gives you an adorable smile, you realize that IU is still not talking. Although her hand is resting on her naked knee, playing with the hem of her dress.
"If you are ever in Paris, I hope you will stop by."
"I will give you an awesome review."
Sana gives you a thumbs up.
"What did you eat there, unnie?"
"Hmmm? What?"
IU looks like she got caught. You expected her to be more cool about this, but it looks like she is unable to clear her mind of the things you did.
"I don't remember."
She now looks at you. Her dark eyes locked onto yours.
"But I know it was delicious."
That switch of attitude makes you silently raise an eye brow at her. How did she just got from shy and scared to hot and suggestive?
A sly smirk plays around her lips. Maybe she is a better actress than you thought.
Once the plane is in the air, you get rid of your seatbelt. The tight fabric made the situation in your pants slightly worse. IU keeps glancing at you. Sometimes a naughty smile on her face, sometimes her fingers lift up her dress. Her full thighs distract you from working.
You are glad that barely any people seem to be sitting in first class. Except for you three, there is only one man two rows ahead and an older couple maybe three rows behind you. Is it always that empty in first class?
You really do try your best to keep working, but as soon as Ji-eun stands up, you throw all caution out the window. The dress she is wearing seemed quite long. That's why you are surprised, when she reaches up to take something out of her luggage.
The black fabric rides up her body, until her lower half is almost completely exposed. Standing on her tip toes, Ji-eun shows off her ass to you. Her black thong leaves her cheeks exposed, only barely covering her pussy. You catch glimps of her lips. Remembering the last time you saw her naked pussy, you have to hold back to not just reach for it.
When she is about to sit down, Sana stands up too.
"I need to use the bathroom real quick."
She steps past the older woman, before walking down the small aisle.
Ji-eun watches her leave. You already expected something once the two of you would be alone, but not this. As soon as IU is sure no one is looking, she straddles your lap.
"I can't help it. Your cock felt so good."
Her breathless words still linger in your ear as she latches her lips onto your neck. While showering your skin with kisses, IU slowly grinds on top of you.
"Darn it. Do you know how often I got myself off thinking about that night?"
Her hands move towards your belt.
"What are you doing?"
You are finally able to talk, a little overwhelmed from the older woman's attack.
"What do you mean? You don't wanna fuck?"
"Shhh."
You shush her, afraid someone heard her.
"Here? Are you crazy?"
She just shrugs her shoulders.
"As long as you fill me with cock, I don't care where."
Her lips reattach themselves to your neck. Her hair slightly tickles, while her cute bow is right in front of your face.
You try your best. You really do. But suddenly, you find your hands underneath IU's dress. Feeling the smooth skin on her full thighs, you lean your head back, while she fumbles for your zipper. Her grinding increases as you start to feel her wetness on your leg. Only the thin fabric of your pants and her thong are between the two of you.
IU suddenly stops, looking above your head behind you.
"Shit."
You suspect it's Sana. Expecting, IU to leave, you let go of her thighs. Instead she just drops to her knees. She reaches for the blanket next to you, covering herself and your lap. You feel her warm breath against your clothed crotch as you hear Sana coming from behind.
"Excuse me. Do you know where IU unnie went?"
"I think she left right after you. In the same direction."
"Really? I didn't see her."
Sana flashes you another smile.
"Thank you."
She turns around to look at the direction she came from, before sitting back down in her seat.
You suddenly hear the zipper of your pants being opened. Which is odd, since both of IU's hands are resting on your thighs. Is she doing this with her teeth?
You feel her pull down the zipper, until finally one hand leaves your leg. Her hand undoes the button of your boxers.
If you weren't hard before, you are now as IU fishes out your cock. Her warm hand strokes your length once or twice, before you feel her wet lips wrap around your tip. You have to suppress a groan as her tongue swirls around it. IU starts to take you deeper inside her mouth. Her wet slurps barely louder than a whisper.
You place your hands on the blanket over her head, trying to hide the bulge her head is creating. Ji-eun humms around your cock in response as she keeps sucking you off.
You can't believe this is happening. Your legs start to become jelly as the woman on her knees let's her lips glide to the base of your cock. Her tongue follows, grazing the underside of your shaft.
You glance at Sana, hoping she doesn't see anything. But after looking at her once or twice, it becomes hard to look away. Since Ji-eun swallows your cock underneath the blanket, you somewhat miss the visual stimuli. Luckily, Sana is more than enough.
Since her shorts are barely covering her center, her full thighs are on display. You try to imagine them around your head, squeezing you as you eat her out. It's hard though. It's hard to focus on anything when IU is silently giving you head. You have to lean your head against your chair, trying to compensate the pleasure you are feeling. How is she so good at this?
Glancing at Sana again, you see her lean over her phone. She was typing something on it a couple of moments ago. Now it seems like she is watching a video or something. Her eyes are wide, the screen very close to her face.
When you feel yourself hitting the back of IU's throat, you press her head down. It's a subconscious action as you try to appear normal. You hear her slightly gagging when she is unable to move. Closing your eyes, you feel yourself getting closer to the end.
Ji-eun starts to become louder. You hope no one hears her as you open your eyes again. You are unable to see straight as you look around. Your eyes lock onto Sana's. The woman's head is turned towards you, her lips slightly parted. Her hand with her phone is resting on her lap, while the other tuggs a couple of strands behind her ear. Did she catch you?
Instinctively you press Ji-eun's face further into your lap, hoping Sana didn't see her head bobbing. You hear IU slightly gagging as she tries to breath through her nose while her throat is stuffed with your cock.
Sana gives you a coy smile, before she turns away again. You did catch her stealing a glance at your crotch. Fuck.
That nervous feeling doesn't last long as IU keeps working your shaft. You suddenly come to a realization. What are you going to do next? What happens after Ji-eun is done with you? How is she going to get out of there? There is no way she planing to stay on her knees until the end of her flight. Is she?
You dig your fingers into your armrests. IU keeps slobbering over your dick in almost complete silence, while her hands glide over your pants. In a normal situation you would've started to fuck her face by now. But this isn't normal. This is public. It doesn't get much riskier than that. Getting head as you sit in your seat in your airplane.
The situation worsens when you get a call. You neither have the composure, nor the current mental stability to wonder who it might be. Without even looking at the screen, you pick up.
"Hi, daddy."
You almost groan in disbelief as you recognize her voice. Checking your screen confirms your suspicion.
"Princess #1"
Wonyoung is number two, which means...
"Hi, Miyeon. What is it?"
You try to sound nonchalant, although it is almost impossible. Hearing Miyeon snicker on the other side of the call makes you blush for some reason.
"Who is it?"
"IU."
You half whisper half moan. No reason to lie.
"Well, that's great, but I'm calling because of her fellow traveller."
"What?"
You look to your right at Sana, catching her look away from you.
"She knows who you are."
"How?"
"I might have told her a thing or two about us."
You sigh.
"So?"
"Just go the bathroom in a couple of minutes. She is too shy to ask."
"Miyeon-"
"I hope IU sumbenim is taking great care of you. Her asshole was so tight when I fucked her. Just saying."
You are stunned when you realize that Miyeon hung up on you. Who does she think she is? Talking about you with Sana and then telling you to follow her friend to the bathroom? You don't need to be bright to figure out why.
You turn your head as you see Sana standing up. As she walks past you, she let's her hand glide along your arm. You look after her as she walks back towards the bathroom. She took off her jacket earlier. Her tight shorts hugg her cheeks perfectly as she walks down the aisle.
"Fuck.Ji-eun, stop."
You get the blanket off her.
IU looks up at you. Her black bow is a little tilted, her chin covered in her spit.
She let's your cock fall out of her mouth, before stroking it slowly.
"What?"
"Sana is gone and-"
"Finally."
She gets up and straddles your lap once more.
"Wait."
You hold her by her waist, before she is able to keep moving.
"Miyeon just called. She wanted me to follow Sana into the bathroom."
"Oh."
Ji-eun is visibly disappointed.
"I'm gonna go now."
She shakes her head.
"We need to finish what we started. I haven't had sex since the night in Paris. Please."
"Get off me. We will continue this after we land."
IU glares at you.
"Why? Just because she is younger than me?"
"No-"
"Fine. Go."
She gets off you, sitting down in her own seat. Her arms are crossed in front of her chest. Her lips forming a cute pout.
"Ji-eun-"
She looks up at you. Her stare shuts you up.
"I will be in Venice for four days. I expect you to make it up to me during every single second I don't have a schedule."
You nod before following after Sana. Your meeting is today, after you land. Afterwards you should have enough time for IU.
Reaching the restroom, you look around, but no one seems to care about your presence. Seeing it being unlocked, you slip inside.
As soon as you close the door behind you, you feel Sana crashing into you. Her lips attack yours, while she grinds her body against you.
"Sana, what..."
She takes a step back.
"If you are only half as good as Miyeon said...."
She trails off, before reaching for you once again. This time, you hold her waist, holding her close, while Sana invades your mouth.
And Miyeon said she was shy?
The Japanese girl, you guessed because of her name, sneaks her arms around you while she deepens the kiss. Your hands start to explore her body. You notice how slim her waist is. How smooth the skin under her shirt and how full her thighs are. Reaching behind her, you place your palms on her cheeks.
"God yes."
She sighs as you squeeze them respectively.
"I need you."
Her lips find your neck, just like IU's earlier.
"Mina played with me without making me cum."
Her breathless words make you feel goosebumps as she whispers against your neck. Who is Mina? Her bandmate?
"She started it minutes before I had to leave."
Sana kisses down your neck, slowly reaching your collarbone.
"Do you know what that does to a girl? Almost cuming and then having to wait for hours?"
You feel the Japanese girl's hands leave your neck as she reaches for your pants.
"I don't even care how you fuck me by now. Just do it. I need to cum."
While still having questions about Mina and still not sure how you got here exactly, you spring into action. If there is something, besides doing business, you are good at than it's sex. At least that's what you think. Why would you sleep with so many idols otherwise?
You hold Sana's cheeks more firmly, before lifting her off the ground. She is just as light as the others. She has gotten rid of your zipper by now and is working on the button of your boxers, which you just closed barely a minute ago.
"Take me. Take me how you want. I just need something in me."
Her breathless whisper makes you step forward, sitting her down on the edge of the sink. While you capture her lips with yours, you unbuckle her belt.
Sana moans into your mouth as you pull her shorts off her. Her pink panties already damp with arousal.
Wanting to make this quick, you just slide them aside, revealing Sana's snatch. It's a mouthwatering sight. For some reason it looks smaller than you expected.
You let you hands dance along her lower lips as it's now your turn to kiss her neck. Sana let's her head fall back, moaning in delight at your touch. For a second you wonder if you should finger her to orgasm first, but you decide against it. You want to make this quick. And you would rather have Sana cum on your cock than your fingers.
"Put it in, please."
As if on cue, Sana starts to whine.
"I'm already soaked thinking about you. Just give me that cock Miyeon always talks about."
You pull out your cock through the holes in your pants and boxers.
"That's huge."
Sana looks down in shock.
"But why is it wet?"
You don't answer. Instead you align it with her pussy. Pushing past her lips makes Sana almost fall backwards into the sink. You have to hold her firmly as her back arches. You are almost afraid she is gonna break it.
"That's fucking big."
She hisses as if she is in pain.
"I'm used to smaller toys."
You wait for her, letting her take a couple of deep breaths.
Once Sana finally adjusted to the feeling of her hole being stretched like never before, she sits back up, locking her hands behind your neck.
"Carry me. Impale me on your dick."
It's a combination of command and plea as Sana's eyes seem darker than before. Although that could be due to the dim light.
You slowly pick her up and lift her off the sink. Gravity doing it's work, slowly makes Sana glide down to your base. You see her eyes roll to the back of her head. She holds harder onto your neck with every inch she is taking.
"Oh god."
Sana sighs once you finally bottom out inside of her. It took a couple of moments, but you are more than glad it took this long. Sana's pussy is tight. Her walls grip onto you, clearly not wanting you to ever leave. For some reason, Sana's pussy feels a little similar to Rei's. Is that a coincidence? Or because they are both Japanese? You almost laugh at that thought. That's impossible.
Either way, you start to lift up Sana until only your tip is inside of her. You make her glide down along your length. Up and down. Up and down.
Before you know it, you are already truly fucking Sana inside the restroom. Her moans are muffled by your shirt, which she is biting into. Or rather your shoulder. The pain is small enough to blend out. Her moans increase in volume and numbers. They become higher and more needy.
With a strong grip on her ass cheeks, you keep moving Sana. Her body barely moving on its own, her pussy only a fleshlight for your cock.
"More. More please."
Sana let's go of your shoulder for just a moment. You keep fucking her, hoping that no one can hear her moan. Her walls start to tighten around you even further.
"Gonna cum!"
She let's out a mewl into your shoulder as she clings to you like a panda. You keep moving her up and down. Relentlessly impaling her on your cock.
"Oh god!"
Sana finally cums on your dick. Her walls squeeze you, trying to make you cum as well. Her body shakes a little, making you hold her a little tighter. The pink panties she is wearing are now soaking wet. Her hair is a mess.
"That was so good."
She is still breathing heavily, but finally stopped biting you.
"Let's go."
You start to put Sana down.
It's a difficult decision to pull out of the Japanese's snug pussy, but you could get caught any second.
"But-"
"You can do that in our seats."
"What about IU?"
"Why do you think my cock was already wet?"
Sana's mouth opens in a wide O in realization.
"That slut."
Sana giggles as she slowly starts to get her pants on. You close your zipper and open the door.
Only a couple of seconds later, you are back in your seat. But not alone. You are glad that the space in first class is so big.
"You taste so good, Sana."
IU complements her as she swallows your cock. It took no convincing at all to make IU drop to her knees in front of your seat. Sana is kneeling next to her, admiring her work.
IU's bow is bobbing up and down in rhythm with her head. One of her hands is wrapped around your base, while the other rests on your left thigh. Sana occupies your other as she leans on it, watching the older woman.
With a cute, naughty smile she shifts her gaze from IU to you.
"I hope we can do this for the rest of our stay in Venice."
Ji-eun looks up at you, her lips still wrapped around your cock. She is reminding you of the deal you two made, before you left to fuck Sana.
Without a warning, Ji-eun starts to deep throat you once again. You suddenly hit the back of her throat. This time, she doesn't silence herself. The gagging noises are probably loud enough for the other three passengers to hear.
She holds her head in place for what feel like forever. You hold onto your armrests, hoping to hold out just a little longer.
"Unnie, I want to make him cum."
Sana watches your spit covered cock fall out of Ji-eun's mouth. Her hand still holding your base, the older woman slightly points your cock in Sana's direction.
The Japanese girl sticks her tongue out. She slowly swirls it around the tip of your cock, not breaking eye contact. Her dark eyes look deeper than ever before.
She adds a hand as well. Her right is joining IU's, both of their hands cover around two thirds of your cock. Sana wraps her lips around your tip, hollowing her cheeks. Her tongue keeps swirling , while she slowly sucks you off.
It is completely different from most of the girls so far. While the others usually do this quickly with desperate need for you to finish, Sana takes her time. As if she is convincing your cock to cum on its own.
You groan as you feel the effects first hand. Shifting around in your seat, you know it's only a matter of seconds.
"Look at him. Struggling to hold it in."
IU chuckles before licking her lips.
"I can't wait to make him cum for four whole days."
Sana's mouth, both of their hands, IU's eyes, her words. It all proves too much. With one last groan, you feel yourself twitching against Sana's tongue.
A second before you explode, she pulls away. You are barely able to watch as you cum all over both of their hands. I leaks down in small streams. It coats their fingers and their wrists.
As soon as you come back down, Sana dives in for her first taste. With her daring tongue, she starts with IU's hand, slowly pulling her tongue across the older girl's fingers.
"Delicious."
She licks her lips, before turning towards IU. Since Sana must have scooped up a good amount of cum, you are in awe as you watch the two exchanging a messy kiss. You see a small string, a mix of saliva and your cum, hang from both of their chins as they keep making out.
This is gonna be a long four day trip.
And quite possibly a long flight.
__________
Hi everyone!
I hope you enjoyed this one.
Tomorrow the December special polls will be posted. If you don't know what that is, you don't know how to vote, or you want to find out what chapters you can vote for, it's all here.
809 notes
·
View notes
Text
discord likes to enable me
———
There’s a familiar clack-step-clack-step-clack-step, and Donnie un-shrimps himself from over his keyboard before he has to hear a lecture about posture.
“Heeey, hermano,” says Leo, and Donnie swivels his chair. He’s leaning on his crutches, an easy smile on his face that Donnie isn’t sure to trust. “You busy?”
“Yes, actually, I am. In fact, I have a prioritized list.” Which is ever growing, mostly because he keeps thinking of things to add.
An alien invasion that nearly kills your entire family is great for creativity and motivation.
“Yeah, I know.” Leo leans more heavily on the crutch so he can rub the back of his head. “Kind of a rhetorical question.”
“If you know then why are you bothering me?”
Leo’s smile falls a bit, and he shifts back and forth for a second. Donnie feels an itch grow under his skin the longer he spends not working, and he has to bite back the urge to snap at him to come out with it.
“Actually, don’t worry about it,” says Leo finally, taking a hobbling step back. “You’ve got enough to do, so… I’ll let you get back to it.”
And Donnie almost lets it go there, gets back to his work and lets Leo go back to whatever he was doing, but…
Something about the whole exchange does not sit right with him. Leo must want something, so why won’t he just tell him? It makes the same itch prickle in his hands, like there’s something here for him to fix if Leo will just let him know.
“You might as well tell me what you need,” he says, turning to his computer and pulling up his list. “I’ll assess it and prioritize.”
“No, no, that’s okay. It’s nothing,” Leo insists.
“Nardo.” Donnie levels his best stare at him. “What is it?”
Leo stops, hesitates again, and then slowly clack-steps his way back to Donnie’s desk. “Alright… but when I tell you, you can’t laugh.”
Donnie laughs once, preemptively. “Well, I can’t promise that. What if it’s funny?”
“Sheesh. You’re the king of sensitivity, aren’t you?” Leo rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t turn tail and bolt. He rocks back and forth one more time, then clears his throat.
“I, uh… I want… more lighting for my room.”
Donnie narrows his eyes. “What’s wrong with the lighting you already have?”
“I mean, it’s fine when I’m awake. I was just thinking, you know…” Leo clears his throat. “I could just have, like… some dimmer lights for nighttime. Just.. just enough that I can see, if I… need to get up in the middle of the night, or… something wakes me up, or whatever.”
Oh, thinks Donnie. This isn’t funny.
Of course, Leo asking him to build a nightlight would have been downright hilarious even just two months ago. But that was before the invasion.
That was before Donnie was woken up in the middle of the night by an alert from Leo’s heart monitor. That was before he found Leo huddled in a corner of the medbay, shielding his head with his arms and begging not to be hurt anymore. That was before they all agreed to leave the lights on, even when - especially when - Leo was sleeping, so he wouldn’t wake up in the dark.
He says he’s fine now. Donnie wonders why he believed that, because Leo said he was fine back then, too.
He turns back to his computer and adds a new entry to his list, under High Priority.
“What kind of lights do you want?” he asks. He doesn’t call it a “nightlight” because Leo would probably tell him to forget about it again.
“Uh, well, they have to be cool.” Leo rolls his eyes up like he’s thinking, even though Donnie imagines he’s rehearsed this in his head. “And not too bright - I don’t want them to wake up anyone else.”
He doesn’t want it to look anything like a nightlight, and he doesn’t want them to be especially noticeable. Donnie can work with that. Compared to everything else he has to do, this is a pretty simple challenge.
“I think I can work something out,” he says. “Just give me a couple days to find materials.”
“No rush,” says Leo quickly. “Whenever you get to it is fine.”
“Yes, yes,” Donnie says. “I’m not going to drop everything for a miscellaneous lighting project.”
He casually moves the lights up a few spots.
“Yeah, sure,” says Leo, already backpedaling out of the room. “I’ll leave you to your nerd stuff. And you better not stay hunched over your computer all day!”
“Scoff!” yells Donnie after him. He got the posture lecture after all.
———
It takes him a little over a week to finish Leo’s lights - longer than he wanted, but it took time to gather the materials.
He steps through the curtain to find Leo waiting for him, tapping his foot. Donnie had unceremoniously kicked him out hours ago with no explanation, but he still thinks the look he’s getting is a bit overdramatic.
“Are you going to tell me what you’re doing now?” Leo asks, and Donnie grins wide, ever the showman.
“Of course, dear brother.” He grabs the curtain in one hand. “I finished your lights, and I have to say I really outdid myself this time.”
Leo’s irate expression turns shocked. “Wait, seriously? Already?”
“Well, it took longer than I wanted, but yes, I am done. I think you are going to be pleased with the results.”
So saying, he throws the curtain aside with a flourish and reveals the room to Leo.
Leo’s jaw drops, and he pushes past Donnie to go inside, spinning around to get a good look. “Dude,” he says, a grin growing that stretches ear to ear.
He likes it. Donnie feels a rush of relief and satisfaction, and he grins just as wide as his brother. “Yes, I know, I’m amazing.”
“Dude,” Leo repeats. “It looks rad as hell.”
Donnie has to concur with that one, of course. He spent all day installing tasteful and aesthetic track lighting, currently glowing a soft blue. It’s running along the aisle through the middle of Leo’s bedroom, along with a line across the whole car at bar height, and more lines ribbing the ceiling. He even lined out spots on the wall for Leo’s posters, now custom framed in glittering lights.
It looks as rad as Leo said, but the most important thing of all is that now every corner of Leo’s room is lit, leaving nowhere for enemies to hide or threatening shadows to lurk. He will feel safe here, even if he wakes up from a nightmare. At least, Donnie hopes so.
He hands Leo a remote, pointing out buttons as he talks. “I’ve given you a few different options. You can turn the lights on, or set them on a timer, or use this setting to make them motion activated. And here you can change the colors, though of course I have preprogrammed in your signature. Oh, and here…” He presses a button, and the track lights begin to pulsate. “You can set it to different patterns if you’d like.”
“Oh man.” Leo grins, immediately playing with the buttons. “You seriously killed it - this is so cool, Dee.”
“Yes, yes, as I said, I am amaz- oof.”
He’s cut off by Leo grabbing him in a hug, arms squeezed tight around Donnie’s battleshell.
“Thanks,” he says, his voice surprisingly serious. “I really, really love it. Two reallys.”
Donnie sighs, but hugs him back. “I just hope it helps.”
“It will.” Leo steps back, his grin lopsided but real. “Anyway, it looks like a nightclub in here, bet I could throw some great parties.”
Donnie smirks. “Invite me and I’ll waive my fee.”
“Extortion,” says Leo, a laugh in his tone. “I should have seen that coming.”
“Yes you should have. How long have we lived together?”
“Forever.” Leo gives him a light shove with his shoulder. “It’s alright sometimes though.”
“That’s because I’m amazing, as I have said.”
Leo snorts. “Yeah, yeah,” he says, but his smile is real and genuine, and Donnie feels warm to his core.
Another thing crossed off his list.
898 notes
·
View notes
Text
What We Want - Chpt. 3 - Dreams And...
In Which A Romantic Breaks The Universe
(Yandere!batboys x f!reader) 18+ MDNI!
SUMMARY
Another lonely birthday, another empty year. You miss your family. You're late for your bills and rent, and even then, you got robbed last Tuesday.
Still, you buy yourself a cupcake, because you need it. I mean, hey. What's dessert for if not to get over cheating boyfriends and dead relatives?
As you blow out the candle, watching the clock switch from 11:59 pm to midnight of the next day, you make a wish.
And because the world doesn't like to make much sense, it comes true. Your life is suddenly flipped on a dime, and you're stuck trying to catch up with it. Fantasy becomes reality. You're a Wayne now, apparently. Or you used to be. You're loved, you're rich, you're talented and powerful.
Well, sort of. Careful what you wish for, right?
(TRIGGER WARNINGS AND MASTERLIST HERE) - PLEASE REMEMBER TO CHECK, THIS CHAPTER IS DARKER IN TONE!
PREV - NEXT
Your hands are pruned. It’s quiet in the extravagant bathroom, other than the sound of the tap’s running water and your own shaky breathing. This was all a bit much. Your hands are more than clean now, but you absolutely do not want to go back out there.
You kind of just want to go back into one of the stalls and cry. A core girlhood experience, except you were an adult with a job and taxes. Or, you were. You think you’re some rich scion or something in this dream. Which like, cool, who wants to slave under capitalism anyways?
…You wonder if anyone would notice if you slipped out the window. You’d been gone for a while and nobody had come looking for you, since you’d totally gotten lost trying to find the bathroom. Sure, you were on the third floor, but at this point you were willing to risk it. Even if you couldn’t walk in a straight line right now, much less climb the trellises. For some reason, you could not handle your liquor today like you usually could. But once again, this was all just a very vivid dream, so it wasn’t like you could die.
To punctuate that thought, you hear someone scream.
It cuts off instantly, and then there’s quiet again. You pause, then turn off the tap, listening for any more sound. Drip, drip, drip… you press the tap down again and properly turn it off. Still no noise. Immediately, you realise you are standing directly in a horror film. You live in Gotham for fuck’s sake. It wasn’t an unlikely occurrence. You’d gotten mugged just a few days ago.
And you were alone in the bathrooms. So unbelievably drunk, and alone in the bathrooms. You were actually so dead, it was crazy. A dream, a dream…!
Your head bows, staring into the white porcelain of the sink as you focus hard on your hearing. You don’t think you could hear the party before, but you’re not sure. It’s definitely not there now. You swallow the dry pain in your throat, trying to summon a modicum of courage. Your vision spins.
You slap your wet hands to your face and then blink through your fingers. God. Okay, okay, okay. You can do this. You survived a mugging just last week with only minimal bruising. To convince yourself of your badassery, you dig your fingers into the blemishes, hoping to wake yourself up with the pain. It’s a bad habit but you have lots of those.
…Where’s the pain? Oh god, where’s the pain? Wait, don’t panic, it’s a dream! Of course, you wouldn’t have your bruises in a dream. That made total sense. And you definitely weren’t panicking.
You splash more water on your face. Time to face the music, you drunken moron. If you were going to be in a horror movie, you’d be the final girl of all final girls.
One hand on the sink, you take your heels off. They’re going to get in the way, and the sound of them clicking against the marble will give away your location. Massaging your sore ankles, you try and come up with a game plan. You don’t know what’s going on, and it really could all just be a false alarm, but better safe than sorry and all that. It’s a gala full of some of the richest people on earth, and you’re pretty sure you saw a swat team of security guards at the entrance.
So this was probably a hostage situation or a villain attack. You’d hear more noise if it was a supervillain fighting a superhero downstairs. Then you’ll bet on a hostage situation for now. Depending on who had taken you all hostage, that could be a totally fine situation where you all just end up leaving with lighter purses, or it could be the Scarecrow’s shown up and he’s about to mentally traumatise you. Like you needed any more of that.
Of course, this was all probably still a dream. Maybe if you say it enough times you’ll actually believe it. You’ll just plan ahead in case this is real (which it definitely isn’t). Plus you’d proven you could feel pain in this dream anyway, with all the times you’d slapped yourself. You hoped the fucking Tim Drake didn’t think you were too weird. Because he definitely thought you were weird.
It’s cool. You’re cool. You could handle this. You were a Gotham native after all. Totally cool. You have to force yourself not to gag on your own fear. Totally, absolutely, terrifically cool.
A few deep, calming breaths later, and you’re cracking the door of the lavatory open just an inch. You peer through the crevice, taking another deep breath when you don’t see anyone in the hallway. You push the door open a bit wider, peek your head around it to look the other way. Still empty. Another deep breath, you feel your chest rise and fall, and then you take the first step out onto the wooden floors. You wince at the slight noise the bare sole of your foot makes and hurry over to the long Persian rug to snuffle any more sounds.
And then you’re standing in the middle of the hallway in your ballgown, head swivelling back and forth as you try and catch any minuscule sounds, shoulders bunched up to your ears.
The first thing you need to check is the exits. Since you are on the third floor, and the banquet was on the first, you can assume that they’re well-guarded, but probably far away from you. Still, this is the Wayne Enterprises Tower, and there wasn’t just the party happening tonight. It was mostly empty as you’d seen but there’d been a few people you’d wandered past. They’d all seemed like late-night office workers, and the female janitor you’d bumped into was the one who had told you where the toilet was.
Was the janitor okay? Was that her scream you’d heard? Concentrate, dumbass. On airplanes, they tell you to put your mask on first before you do it for anyone else. The idea was the same here. Save yourself before you can hope to save anyone else.
That was… that was if you even needed saving. This could all still just be your own paranoia. Someone hit their knee on a ridiculously fancy side table or something. Like that scream wasn’t of pure terror. Like it didn’t sound like someone on death’s door.
Concentrate! Okay, check the stairs first. Don’t take the elevator, because you’re not an idiot. Maybe. Hopefully. Slowly but surely you creep your way back towards the entrance to the third level, where both the elevator and the stairs were. There was a map, too. You hadn’t been able to figure it out earlier, but you had a bit more incentive this time.
You make sure to place your feet carefully, aiming for the carpets and rugs. Even if your drunken steps miss half the time, you’re still mostly quiet. Every time you have to walk across a crossing you spend a minute listening, and then peer around every corner too. You’re not sure if you should be running, or if you really should try one of the windows.
Deep breaths. Keep moving. That’s the best course of action. Don’t get caught, but don’t just hide either.
It’s when you’re almost at the third-floor foyer when you hear something. There’s a crash, the sound of something breaking. No voices, though. Still, you can’t convince your body to move for a full minute. There’s a part of you that wants to go hide in an abandoned cubicle and wait, but there’s another part of you that is very aware of the rates of fires in this city. You keep going, taking a longer route to avoid the source of the crashing.
Another noise. A scream. Laughter. Spine-chilling laughter.
Shit, motherfucker. Why the hell did you get smashed at a fucking Wayne gala? Everybody knew the rogues of this city were totally obsessively in love with Bruce Wayne. Especially your own personal worst nightmare. You don’t dare even think his name, lest you summon the bastard.
Was he in Arkham right now? He should be. Like you should be at home in the Narrows getting a good night’s rest. Like you should be wearing dorky Flash pyjamas, not a dress more expensive than your rent.
He should be. It’s not nearly enough.
You realise, suddenly, that you have to make a choice here. You can walk away, pretend you didn’t hear anything, that you can’t hear anything. A woman’s cries, you think. You could leave her, save yourself. Hideaway and let whatever fate she’s facing befall her. Could you do that? Could you even stomach the idea?
In the end, the universe makes the decision for you.
“And who do we have here? What’s a pretty little thing like you doing wandering around?”
You hear your doom in his slimy voice, even though you didn’t hear him sneak up on you. Shaking, you raise your hands into the air, and slowly turn around. You see your doom in the twisted clown mask’s grin. For a second you think it’s really him, but then you notice his dark brown hair and the tanned skin under the mask. God, god, god. It’s a Joker goon. Your literal worst nightmare, given flesh. Is he here? No, no, no- You swallow down the urge to scream, to run, and do your best to keep thinking like a person and not a prey animal.
You feel like one. You think he knows that. You hope he doesn’t.
“Hey Travis, I found another one!” the man calls out, raising his gun to point at you. He jerks it, moving forward, and you turn back around obediently. The gun presses against the back of your head, and you move forward, obediently.
“Shithead, don’t say my name out loud!” another voice replies. You get to see its owner when you come around the corner and find the foyer.
There are five other people here, all tied up. Four seem to be exhausted office worker bees, who just stayed too late on the wrong day, and the last is the janitor who helped you. The kind lady gives you terrified eyes, but she’s the only one not crying among the hostages.
“Man, you worry too much. Like there aren’t hundreds of Travis’s in the city.”
“Just shut up, my god! If we leak info and it gets traced back to us, he’s docking our pay.”
Who’s he? Who’s fucking he?! He can’t be here, right? He fucking can’t be. You can’t, you can’t. God, you're going to vomit right here and now.
“Whatever. Anyway, this is the last person on this floor.”
“Check the feed again, dickhead,” the second one commands, obviously the leader between the two.
The one who caught you groans, and then you hear the sound of fabric shuffling. Is he looking at his phone? You wish you could turn around and look. You don’t dare with the barrel against you.
Your teeth dig into the side of your mouth. So did they have the security feeds? That meant you were doomed from the start. The only other option would’ve been to actually jump out one of the windows. They would’ve probably found you anyway. Hunted you down to meet their quota.
Shit. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. This is looking like a big deal. And everybody knew Joker never left out on his big deal jobs, he enjoyed them too much. He’s probably downstairs demanding the Batman come meet him and have tea or something. Shit.
All of a sudden these goons seem like the much better end of the deal.
“Checked, checked, double-checked, triple-checked… There’s nobody else here,” the man behind you grumbles, and the one in front of you sighs.
“Alright, alright. Bring her over, I’ll tie her up, and then we can blow this joint,” the man says, and you really, really hope he’s not being serious about blowing this place. You’d had enough of explosions, thank you very much. Especially ones organised by the Joker.
The gun digs harshly into your skull, “Well, go on.”
Swallow, swallow down your fear. Don’t let it stop you. You walk forward to the other man, arms in the air shaking. When you’re in reaching distance, the second goon roughly grabs you and shoves you to your knees. He pushes your hands in front of you, not bothering to tie them behind you. You don’t know if that’s a good thing or not.
The rope cuts into your skin. It’s going to leave marks, and bruises. The man finishes tying the knot and then pulls you back to your feet. Then he shoves you towards the elevator and turns to start picking up the other hostages. You turn so your back is toward the wall, not willing to have your eyes off the monsters for even a second.
It’s when he’s pushing one of the office workers towards you, that the second man speaks again.
“Hey, the boss said we had to kill one of ‘em.”
What? What did he say?
“Oh yeah, oops.”
The gunshot goes off before you can process the words. Before you can process the gunshot, the janitor’s body is crumpling to the floor. Before you can process her fall, blood is starting to seep from the wound in her chest. Before you can process any of that, the man behind you laughs.
He laughs. He laughs and laughs and laughs.
The janitor lies on the floor, blood seeping into her hair and uniform. You squeeze your eyes tight, tears slipping over the lids. You refuse to look at the wound. At the gaping hole in her chest. And despite yourself, you know why they shot her, not you. Not any of the workers either.
Because she wasn’t worth the cash.
Yesterday, that would’ve been you on the floor. You were a fake wearing a fancy dress, who didn’t belong here at all. Still, they didn’t know that. You didn’t think anybody knew that. Not anyone but you, who had woken up in a world a little to the left.
“I’ll be down in a minute, Trav. I wanna play with this one for a bit,” the shooter says, and all of a sudden you’re thrown back into your body, into your frail mortality. You’re cold, your spine gives a shiver, and your horrified eyes find the wretched clown mask.
Like you said, your doom. You wish you weren’t right all the time.
“No way. She’s one of the high-profilers, we need her,” his leader replies, and you’re desperate to stick by his side. You didn’t think a Joker goon would be your saviour, but here you were.
“I’ll give you five K of my split,” he offers, not willing to let go of it. Of you.
The other one pauses, glances at you assessingly. There’s a glint of something in his eyes, something that tells you you’re not making it out of here unscathed. It’s something you recognise, something you even recognise inside yourself.
It’s greed. And it’s going to kill you. You always knew it would, you just didn’t think it’d be like this.
“Make it seven,” he finally announces, the deal for your soul made without any fuss or fanfare.
“You’re such a hardass. Fine, fine, seven it is.”
“Alright, and only thirty minutes, tops. Not a hair on her head, you understand me?” he says over his shoulder, waggling a finger at his coworker.
The group leaves through the elevator. It dings, and you watch in mute, stunned horror as the other hostages refuse to meet your gaze. As they abandon you to save their own asses. You couldn’t really blame them, as much as you wanted to. You were ready to do the same earlier.
“I think not even a hair is pushing it, right?” the creep says, finger reaching out for said hair. You jerk back out of his reach, an instinctual flinch. He grins, and lets his hand fall back to his side. You take a shaky step backward.
You’re trembling with fear. With the need to get away from this terror, this situation.
He gestures with his gun, pointing back in the direction of the branching hallways.
“Well, go on. Run.”
And God help you, you do.
Spinning on your heel, you flee to the echoing sound of his laughter. Your feet fall rhythmically against the marble floors, the sound of your bare soles far too loud. You can’t even do anything about it. There’s no option for stealth here, only the sort of hunt you’d expect to find in the woods.
Not here in civilised mankind’s territory. But this was Gotham, and the monsters often looked human.
You dart into a large room filled with tiny square cubicles. A call centre or something, a maze of low walls that are too small to hide behind. You keep going, teeth-gritting when his laughter cuts off. He’s taking this seriously, hunting you down. You think he’s done this before. ‘Played’ with people.
You can’t worry about those other poor victims, lest you become his next one.
Another crash, this time to your left. Your head snaps to the side, eyes wide, but when you look there’s only a broken lamp on the floor. You have to swallow down the urge to cry. He is. He’s playing with you. He’s having fun with it.
You keep running, passing by halls and offices and don’t stop running till you can’t. Out of breath. You’re out of breath. You bend over, the stitch in your side too much for you to stand. Why are you out of breath? You can run more than this. You often run more than this when you’re late for your morning train.
What’s going on? What’s happening to you?
A bang, behind you. You spin around. Don’t see anything.
He’s nearby. Right under your nose. You need to keep running, you have to. Through your panting you hear his laughter again, and that’s enough fear to get you moving again. Maybe you were in Arkham, arms strapped to your side and screams wailing down the halls.
You didn’t believe it. No, not in this moment. Not right now, as you run for your life. If you lived through this, you’d probably go back to thinking it was all a dream or a delusion.
But with that monster nearby, there’s nothing this could be but real. With sweat dripping down your neck, smearing your makeup. With the feeling of your heart beating out of your chest, in your ears. With the blind, all-consuming panic you’re in.
He’s real. And he’s coming for you.
You lift your tied hands and press them to your lips, muffling the sound of your harsh breathing and soft sobs. Heart beating out of your ribcage, you push your body even as it screams for you to stop. You’re flagging. Vision’s swimming, and you can feel bile creeping up your throat. You can’t keep doing this. You need to keep doing this.
For a moment, you stop to catch your breath. And he catches you too.
You scream, tugging at the rough grip on him. He swings you around into a wall, and again, you cry out. Side throbbing with pain, singing with it. Still, you don’t stop. Can’t stop. Not safe, not safe, not safe. You push back against him, and he pushes back against you. Your drunken state is no match, and you tumble down onto the carpet. When he laughs, you look up at him, and he down at you.
The goon’s plastic mask merges with the Joker’s mutilated face, until you can’t tell the difference.
You aren’t the type to fight back. It’s just not instinctual to you. But when you hear his belt buckle clack, your foot kicks out before you can even think. You hit him squarely in the stomach, knocking him backward, and then you scramble away from underneath him.
“You bitch!”
He grabs you by the nape of your neck, yanking you backwards. You choke, hands grasping desperately at the grip around your throat, but he offers no relent. You’ve pissed him off. That doesn’t mean you can stop, can give up. You can’t stop fighting. Can’t stop struggling. Can’t stop, can’t stop, can’t stop-
The gun clicks. You freeze.
“Yeah, figured you’d be more obedient if I did that. Now, get up,” his voice is breathy, from the high of the chase or the hit you delivered, you’re not sure.
You hope it’s the latter. You hope this fucker drops and dies, right on the spot. You’re not that lucky, though.
Ah, your hands are hurting again. Not just the one, but both. Maybe you touched something. An allergic reaction of some sort. It shouldn’t be distracting you, it shouldn’t even be noticeable in the situation you’re in but god. The itchy heat is nearly as unbearable as the evil cretin in front of you.
“You think you’re gonna get away with that? I’m so fucking sick and tired of you whores who think you matter anything. You don’t, and I’m going to help you realise that,” he rants. His eyes are red through the tiny slits in the mask. Angry, dangerous, on the edge.
“Please, look I’m sorry,” you stutter out, stinging hands in the air. You want to run, but you think he’ll shoot if you do.
“You’re lucky I don’t fuck corpses.”
No, that doesn’t sound very lucky at all, actually. No, this seems like maybe it might turn out to be the new worst moment of your life. You don’t think it can get much worse than this, than the next moments that will pass. And it’s too much. It’s too, too much. Your palms are itchy and there’s a gun pointed between your eyes and the goon’s licking his lips and oh my god you’re going to die from an allergy before the bullet and-
And you just want it all to stop. You want it so desperately. You want the man in front of you to disappear, to never exist again, to go right down to hell where he belongs. You just want him gone.
Your hands stop hurting. The burning heat disappears. It’s quiet again. You can’t hear him laughing, the awful slick sound of him licking his lips. You can’t feel the cool iron on your forehead, the heat from his body so close. You can’t smell his sweaty stench. Your eyes open.
…There’s no gun. There’s no man.
You crumple to the ground with a relieved sob. Fisted hands lift to your eyes, as big blubbery tears stream down your face. Your shoulders shake with your cries. Your heart is screaming in your chest, trying to beat out of it. He’s gone, somehow. You’re alive, somehow. You’re not dead with a bullet in your brain, somehow. Somehow, somehow, somehow.
An impossibility. It’s an impossibility, and you’re so goddamn grateful for it.
As always, you don’t give yourself long to cry. Even as your tears still fall, even as you lick them off your mouth, tasting salt and lipstick and fear, you push to your feet shakily. You almost fall over with your hands still tied, shouldering the wall next to you for balance. You don’t have time to cry. No time to process what just happened. You need to get to safety.
You creep back into the main area, heart pounding in your ears, breath hiccuping. You don’t know how long it takes for you to get there. Ten minutes, thirty, maybe even an hour. When you try the staircase door, it doesn’t open. You yank on the handle, grab a chair and try and smash it in, but it stands strong. Fuck. You try the elevator as a last-ditch effort, but the buttons don’t respond.
You press your overheated forehead to the cool metal. Okay. Okay. Okay, okay, okay.
You turn around and storm back into the cubicle space, find one at the edge of the room with a clear view of all the doors, and tuck yourself under the desk. Pulling your knees to your chest, you resist the urge to rock yourself like a baby.
And you sit there, and you watch, and you wait. It doesn’t matter how many hours pass, you are not moving from this spot. It doesn’t matter how heavy your lids feel, how the adrenaline leaving your body has you sagging.
You’re not going to sleep. It’s not safe, and you’re not dying today. You’re simply not.\
You’re not allowed to.
-
A hand touches your shoulder, and you snap awake. Your fist slings out at the would-be attacker, but they dodge it smoothly. When you rear up for another, they move back, hands in the air in a show of surrender. Panting, you don’t lower the fist, your vision swimming.
It’s the Joker. But the Joker wouldn’t back up, right? And the Joker isn’t red, he’s green and purple.
It takes a while for the Joker’s pale, laughing face to disappear. But when you blink and he’s gone, you find someone else underneath. A red mask, a man you think you recognise from TV. A vigilante. God, you hated the vigilantes in Gotham.
Not more than the Joker. Not more than him.
The man stays a safe distance away, gloved hands firmly in the air. He’s tall, really tall. Broad-shouldered, scary. But he’s a vigilante, right?
Is he here to save you? Someone should've by now. The bastard's late then.
He says your name, you think. You can’t hear him properly. Wait no, it’s a nickname, one you haven’t heard in years. You could barely remember your mother calling you that as she tucked you in, as she told you she loved you over the phone, as she disappeared from the world entirely.
You hadn’t let anyone call you that since.
How does he know that name? How does this bastard know your name?
“-hurt? Hey, hey. Listen to me, are you hurt anywhere?” his voice is deep and warbled through the red metal mask, his eyes peering down at you through his domino. You just stare at him, eyes wide, barely breathing.
You need to know how he knows. Unconsciously, your hand reaches up to him, and after a moment, he takes it in his own firm grip. It’s awkward, as you’re still sitting half under the desk and he’s trying to stay as far away from you as possible. Still, his hand is warm through the leather, grounding, keeping you from drifting off into panic and fear. Into your worst nightmares come to life.
Because this was real. It didn’t matter that it was impossible, it was real. You simply couldn’t deny it any longer, this was all real.
You stare at this stranger’s gloved hand like it holds the answers to the universe. It might, in the end. It really just might. It wasn’t like the universe was making much sense at the moment.
“She seems fine. Uninjured, if a bit shocked. Doesn’t seem to have a concussion. Hardly responding anyway,” Red Hood speaks, but not to you. An earbud, you think. Superheroes used wiretaps and things like that all the time, right?
If you could even consider Red Hood a superhero. Everybody knew he had his own gang. Of course, even as your very life is being saved, it’s by a morally grey hero who runs around with crowbars and guns. Ah, you’re crying again.
You told yourself a long time ago that you wouldn’t let yourself cry anymore. And you’d managed it, mostly. You think you’ll give yourself a pass for today, just a little one. You hold this stranger’s hand, and you cry.
You just cry. You cry, and you hold the hand of some stranger you hate, because you have to.
MASTERLIST - NEXT
#Series:WWW#yandere batfam#yandere dc#yandere batfamily#yandere x reader#dick grayson x reader#nightwing x reader#jason todd x reader#red hood x reader#tim drake x reader#red robin x reader#damian wayne x reader#robin x reader
759 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
extremetechposts
Tech Mate
myfrais
Frais
sunflower-ox
Em
melayu-tudung
Gadismelayustim3gp
brigittefitzgerald
weird girl rights