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strawberriescherrieskiwi · 1 year

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Dig Your Cinema

Part Five of Moment of Impact

Series Description: Ah young love? Everyone wants an epic love story and to be in love forever. You luckily had a story for the ages… sadly it involves murder, drugs, and possibly prison sentences, though it would all be worth it for him. Meeting Timmy was unplanned, but you wouldn’t change a thing.

DarkTimmy fic featuring a murderous Y/n.

Chapter Description: Going home with a stranger was a bad idea.. for the stranger that is. Timmy and you were in for a fun filled night.

Wordcount: 3.7K+

Warning for chapter: 18+ (please no minors!!!), murder, smut, stabbing, sex with dead body in room, drug use, bloodplay, arson, mention of sexual assult. Violence.

Timmy, don’t stop,” you moaned as you held onto the headboard as he hips snapped roughly into you over and over. Your legs shook as you met him thrust for thrust. Sweat coated both of your bodies, the people in the room next to you have been complaining, but it only spurred you both on.

“Yeah? You like that? Like me fucking your tight little cunt, painting your inside of with cum?” He chuckled, wrapping his hand around your throat, pulling your body flush against his. Your back, slamming into his chest forcing his cock deeper into you.

You were unsure how many rounds you two have gone. It’s felt like hours, the high of killing some handsy man in a pub, the amount of cock you’ve done and all the drinks heightening everything.

“Love your cock in me. Fuck, best cock in the world.” You grabbed the back of his head, forcing his lips on yours. You kissed sloppily, his tongue battling with yours for dominance, but you both loved the game too much to give it up.

Reaching around, Timmy roughly pinched your clit, causing you to moan out, your hips spasming as your orgasms crashed through your body. You went limp, allowing him to control the kiss.

One of his hands wrapped around your body gripping your shoulder, while the other held your hip as he picked up the past, chasing his own end now, using you as a fuckdoll.

“I’m so fucking close, baby. I’m gonna give you the biggest load, have you dripping my cum for a week,” he growled, biting along your neck, jackhammering into you a few more times before he’s teeth broke skin as his cock twitched and he drove his hips deeper in you, cumming.

“Shit shit, we are going down,” he said as his body trembled and you both went crashing into the bed. You face first into the mattress and him into your back. Your shoulder was bleeding heavily and his cock was so deep making your eyes roll in the back of your head.

“Fucking hell, Timmy that was amazing,” you mumbled into the bed, turning your head to connect your lips to his lips.

“My body is fucking done, baby,” he chuckled against your lips. “Give me a minute and I’ll move,” he added, his body was too limp for him to have any control.

“I don’t mind, love being stuffed with your cum and cock,” You hummed, reaching between your legs, pushing a finger inside of you, fulling the mixture of your cock and rubbing against your sensitive walls and his cock.

You both whined at the feeling. You fucked your finger inside of you for a minute before pulling it out, shoving it into your mouth.

“Hey, what the fuck, share,” he whined, grabbing your jaw, forcing your mouth open and tasting you.

You laughed sharing your joint fluids, before harshly biting his tongue. Timmy cursed pulling away. Finally moving out of you and flopping on the bed. “Fucking uncalled for,” he growled teasingly.

“You love when I bite you and its payback for my shoulder,” you said, draping your leg over his.

Timmy gripped your thigh, pulling you closer until you were laying on him more than the bed. “I’m sorry about your shoulder,” he said, dragging one of his fingers through the bloody mess. “With all the blood and cum on you, I could paint a picture,” he said absent-minded.

“Yeah? What would you draw?” You asked, snuggling closer to him.

“You. You are the best fucking thing I ever fucking seen. My whole world is you,” he said, kissing your shoulder.

Your breath hitched slightly. He always spoke like this, you both did. You know you’ll never love anymore as deeply and dangerously as you love him and you know the feeling was mutual, but something just felt different.

“You know you are my life too, yeah?” You asked grabbing his face. “My life didn’t start until the moment I saw you in the club and it will end the day you die. If you die I die,” you said seriously.

“Hey neither of us are dying, don’t talk like that. Even if something happens to me, you better fucking live or I’ll fucking come back,” he chuckled, but the seriousness rang deep within his words.

“You better come back or I’ll fall you and kick your ass for leaving me,” you smiled, grabbing a handful of his hair and bringing his lips to yours for a brutal kiss.

Timmy groaned against your lips, reaching down to squeeze your ass. “Marry me?” He asked, pulling away slightly.

You opened your eyes, not even noticing that closed, “What?”

“Marry me,” he ordered this time, flipping you onto your back. “Your mine yeah? Marry me.”

“Your mine, Timmy always have been, you know that being married or not won’t change that,” you said, cupping his cheek.

“I know, but we’ve both been married to horrible people, forced into loveless marriages. We both deserve a happy one, right?” He asked, his hands snaking to your neck, holding it lovely.

You smirked, sitting up, your hand finding its way to his neck. You squeezed roughly, Timmy’s head rolled back and he moaned. Your lips replaced your hand, kissing and biting his neck. “Yeah, let’s get married, I want to be your wife, need you to be my husband.”

Timmy nodded, grabbing his cock and guiding it to your cunt once again, pushing in slowly. “My wife, my fucking wife,” he moaned, kissing you.

“What’s your name?” You asked the man driving the car. You stared at him, your words slurring slightly.

He glanced over at you, smirking. “Oh, you don’t need to know that, if you must call me something, you can call me daddy.” He reached over and give your upper thigh a squeeze.

You glanced away from him. Must he be such a cliche? It was slightly disappointing, but what else to expect from a shitty man in the south. You hated it here, besides being fucking hot, the people were exhausting. The men more than the women, but either way, you missed New York.

You ignored his hand on your thigh for now. “Where are we going?” You asked, turning to look out the window, looking into the side view mirror. “Your house or a hotel?” You added when he didn’t speak.

“You are much too special for a hotel, sweetpea,” he said, patting your cheek.

Your eyes narrowed and it took everything in you not to gag or slit his throat for touching you and telling you that name. You thought about your father and Grant and all your anger, shame and resentment rose burned your throat.

You closed your eyes, willing yourself to calm down to remember why you were sitting in the car right now. The car behind you flashed its lights and you took a deep breath, nodding to yourself.

“So who was that guy? A boyfriend or something?” He asked, pulling in front of a small house. It was in the middle of nowhere and you wondered how many women did he bring here and how many of them were willing and how many left okay.

“My husband. He is very possessive and crazy. He frightens me,” you said, sadly. Pathetically if you asked yourself, he just grinned got out of the car and opened your door, and pulled you out.

“I’ll make you forget all about him,” he said, hand sliding down your backside as he lead you into the house.

It was smaller on the inside, but not as run-down as you thought it would be. “Do you live alone?” You asked as he backed you up against the front door.

“Yeah, you don’t have to worry about anyone interrupting… your sleep,” he said, chuckling.

His hand moved to lock the door, but you moved quicker, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Carry me to bed?” You begged, sleepily, pressing yourself closer to him. He glanced down at your breast that were all but jumping out of your shirt.

“Yeah, let me get you to bed,” he smirked, picking you up and carrying you to the bedroom. His hands groping your thighs and ass and the next moment he was tossing you on the bed.

You groaned at how stiff it was. “Your bed is hard,” you commented.

“That isn’t the only thing that’s hard, sweetpea,” he said grabbing his clothed cock.

You snorted and then you couldn’t help yourself and laugh. “God that doesn’t work on women does it?” You said laughing harder. He grew angry as you laughed, but you ignored him laughing, clenching your side. “Fuck that is just the worse line ever.”

His hands balled into fists and his tiny bulge went down. He quickly joined you on the bed, roughly grabbing your hair. “Don’t fucking laugh at me bitch,” he said.

“Or what?” You challenged.

And then he hit you. Hard. You groaned feeling your lip split opening. It was barely healed from your husband’s biting last night. “Who’s laughing now?” He spat.

You looked up at him, your eyes slightly watering due to the hit, but not because you were in pain. “Still me,” you laughed, bringing your lip into your mouth, licking the blood. You thought about spitting it on him, but that would just be a waste.

He stared at you in confused anger unsure what to do. You laughed. “Not used to a woman not crying? Not begging you for mercy,” you teased.

His grip tightened on your hair, shaking you a few times. “Shut up.”

“Why should I?”

“Because I’m in charge here. I’m bigger than you and will do whatever I want with you. You might not be begging now, but you will be by the time I’m done with you.”

“Oh God that sounds like shitty unsub dialogue from Criminal Minds. Did you read that in how to rape women 101?” You taunted.

He opened his mouth, probably to say another lame line, but you shook your head shushing him. “Please don’t waste your breath. And also you aren’t in charge here. You thinking you are in charge is really tragic.” You brought your knee up and drove it into his crotch.

You shoved him off of you getting up from the bed. “You are pathetic. You know that?” You scoffed fixing your clothes. He flipped you off, coming at you once more, but you sighed moving out of the way.

“He’s boring, I picked too quickly,” you whined.

“How the hell are you talking to? Picked me, I picked you. Drunk, dumped and sad,” he growled, grabbing you around the waist and shoving you against the wall.

You huffed, you hated that most men were just stronger than you, it was annoying and unfair to all the women that get pushed around because they were weaker thanks to fucking hormones.

“Get your fucking hands off of me, I picked you because you thought that about me and I’m talking to my husband. You should have paid more attention, he was outside the bar, followed us here and I didn’t let you lock the door so he could come in,” you said, tilting your head as if you were explaining something to a toddler.

“He isn’t a bright one is he?” Timmy said, leaning against the door frame.

You smirked over at your husband. “I know, so dumb. I swear they make it so easy,” you said.

The man looked between the two of you. He opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again and fumbled over his words as he grew more confused.

Timmy chuckled and walked into the room, grabbing his hand and shoving the man to the ground. “Keep your fucking hands to yourself, she’s my wife,” he said, kicking the man in the face.

The man screamed covering his face, but you ignored him as you wrapped your arm around your husband’s shoulder. “Timmy, I missed you,” you said, pressing your lips to his.

“Fucking missed you too,” he mumbled, pulling you closer, only to pause. “Your lip is bleeding,” his eyes narrowed and his voice grew cold.

“He hit me,” you scoffed.

“He what? That bitch,” Timmy turned around, kicking him repeatedly. “You asshole. Don’t fucking hit my fucking wife. I’m going to fucking kill you,” he growled.

You grinned, wrapping your arms around his waist, watching him. “Don’t kill him yet, Timmy,” you said after a minute,

Timmy hands shook and he spat on the man as he sobbed on the ground begging for mercy. He turned grabbing your face. “No one touches my girl,” he said, pressing his forehead to yours.

“You are so cute when you are all murderous, baby I love it,” you said, kissing him again. “Also the fight, fuck that was our best performance,” you mumbled against his lips. “

‘I can’t take you anywhere, with you trying to whore yourself out to everyone.” You mocked, squeezing his cheeks. “I’m only a whore for you, baby,” you said, shoving your tongue in his mouth.

Timmy moaned, melting in your hold. “What about you? You were so fucking cinematic my little songbird too. Singing Shania Twain, dancing around. I wanted to fuck you right there,” he said, pressing you against the wall. “Fake tears almost ripped my heart out, though I went too far,” he mumbled, unbuttoning your shirt and kissing along your breasts.

“I know you love me, karaoking is just a fun game, I don’t mean any of that shit and I know you don’t,” you moaned, running your hands through his hair.

“I know, I’m nothing without you. Would never leave or you compare you to her. Never, you are perfect. My little fucking goddess, I worship you,” he dropped to his knees in front of you, pulling your shorts down.

You giggled, shoving his wandering hands away. “Baby I want you so badly right now, but we have a man to kill, remember?” You teased.

Timmy looked up at you, pouting with wide needy eyes. They were clouded over with lust and you could tell he was barely listening to you. Your eyes soften, cupping his face and leaning down and kissing him.

He kissed back eagerly. “Need to fuck you,” he said.

“I know, need your cock in me, need you badly, but we need money, a car we have plans.”

The mention of the plans you two had brought him out of his haze. Timmy nodded getting to his feet. He cracked his neck a few times before, kissing you again. “Sorry, got lost for a moment.”

You smiled, taking his hand. “I understand baby, kill first, fuck second.” You pulled your blade out of your bra, waving it at him. “Did you bring your weapon?” You asked.

“Decided to improvise, more fun and looks more random,” he said.

“My smart husband,” you said kissing his hand.

“You both are fucking sick,” The man said, now on his feet back pressed against the wall furthest away from you both. Your little love bubble popped and you both stared at him, grinning wickedly.

“We are fucking sick, but so are you. You brought me here to assault me. You’ve probably done it to lots of women. This is your punishment, all the shitty behavior you’ve done you have to pay for it. And it’s a high fucking price and we are here to collect,” You said, coldly.

His eyes filled with fear and he looked for an escape. He looked towards the bathroom down and made a break for it, but Timmy was quicker grabbing the bathroom door and smashing his head.

The man cried out. You grinned making your way over to them. “You were right, he’s not bright,running to the bathroom, fucking cliches.”

Timmy laughed grabbing the man up and holding him against his body. “Go ahead, punish from mess up your pretty little lips,” he said.

“Don’t need to tell me twice. Thank you for holding him, love you,” you said, leaning closer, kissing Timmy and driving the knife into the man’s chest at the same time. He screamed between the two of you, but you ignored him as he bit Timmy.

“No blood, don’t want to get caught yet, plans baby plans,” Timmy reminded you. Groaning you nodded, pulling your knife out and stabbing back into him repeatedly. Blood coated your hand and chest, some getting on Timmy’s face, but neither of you cared as you got lost in the kill.

Timmy dropped him to the ground as he looked for something to beat him with. His eyes lit up as he searched. “He really doesn’t have shit in here,” he said before pulling a drawer out of the nightstand. “This will do,” he said before he began hitting him again.

Within minutes the man was dead and you both were covered in blood, sweat, and breathing heavily. “God that was fucking thrilling. A drawer?” You grinned, jumping into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist.

Timmy caught you, grinning as well. “You have really outdone yourself tonight, Baby forget about me. You were mindblowing,” he moaned slamming you against the wall once more.

This time you didn’t stop him as he shoved your shorts to the ground, your panties soon following. You worked on his pants, pulling out his cock, stroking him. “Come on, fuck me Timmy,” you ordered.

He chuckled, kissing you as he buried his cock inside of you. You both whined as his cock spread you open “F-fuck. Why. Are. You. So. Tight?” He growled, punching each word with a hard thrust.

“It’s your fucking cock, I can never get used to it. Fucking hurts when you fuck me. I love it,” you panted, wrapping your legs tighter,drawing him closer. “Can we burn the house down?” You asked, choking back a moan as he rutted into you fast, hitting your bundle of nerves that had you seeing stars.

“Always want to burn something, are you an arsonist, my Hestia,” he teased, fucking you widely.

“Easier and fun,” you whined, rocking your hips against him. Timmy pressed his thumb against your clit.

“Fucking love your idea of fun,” he said, pressing his heated skin to your own. You both were burning up running hot and high.

“Fucking close don’t stop.”

Timmy stopped, pulling out of you, dropping you on your feet, turning you around, shoving you against the door and reentering you. He groaned at the new position. “Take my cock, you love it.”

“You love my cunt, it’s your cunt,” you whimpered.

“And your cock. Want to be buried in you always.”

“Fuck, I want that too.” You dropped your head to his shoulder as your walls fluttered around his cock and you squired all over his cock. Timmy cursed, slapping your ass and coming. Your hips never stopped moving milking his cock for everything he had.

After you both calm down you pulled away and fixed your clothes. “I’ll get his keys you look for money and things,” you said, kissing him as you walked over to the dead man. You dug in his pocket, grabbing the keys and his wallet.

You grinned when you saw the cash. “Thank you,” you said, leaning down and patting his cheek. Before kicking him again, “That’s for all the women you hurt, asshole.”

You found your husband making a sandwich in the kitchen. “Timmy, did you find anything?” You asked, jumping on the counter and taking a bite once he was done.

“A shit ton of money in a safe that wasn’t even locked. A really fucking dumbass at least a few grand, he probably owns this whole land,” he said through a mouthful.

“Aren’t we lucky,” you grinned, kissing his cheek.

“We can be even luckier,” He said pulling out his tin of coke.

You grinned grabbing it. “Shirt off,” you demanded.

Without complaint he took it off, turning around for you to have his back. There were healing bite marks and scratches that you couldn’t help but kiss as you poured a bit of cock on his back before snorting.

“My turn,” he said, turning around and unbuttoning your shirt and lining cock on your collar before snorting it off. He moaned, biting your neck. “Fuck love having cock on my girl,” he said, looking up at you.

“Don’t give me those eyes, gonna make me get on my knee and suck you off.”

“I’m not going to stop you,” he teased, finishing off the sandwich, helping you down. “Did you get the car keys?”

You nodded tossing them to him. “I’m going to take another swipe of the house.”

“I’ll do the license plates and put the money in the car,” he said heading for the door. He paused, turning and smiling at you. “Oh, baby burn this place down my Goddess Hestia.”

You grinned, running to his side. “I am going to suck you off in the car, so bad we might crash.”

“Fuck, can’t wait.”

The house burned as Timmy drove away. One hand on the wheel and the other was tangled in your hair as you took his cock in your mouth. “Fuck you weren’t kidding,” he chuckled.

You grinned as best you could, running your hands under his shirt, teasing his nipple, pinching it roughly before switching to the other. Timmy’s hips twitched, shoving down your throat.

You choked moaning around him, hallowing out your cheeks as you deep throat him. There was drool running down your face and tears in your eyes but you took him more and more.

“Fuck you should teach a masterclass in cock sucking,” Timmy teased. His chest was rising fast and his cock twitched. You chuckled, pulling back slightly. “Close already?” You teased, jerking him off quickly, leaning down flicking your tongue in his slit, licking all the pre-come.

“Mouth, throat, I need it,” he whined, the car swerving as cars blew. You laughed, taking him back into your mouth, swallowing around his cock, going back to play with his nipples.

He moaned, his hips coming off the seat as his cock forced its way down your throat, his cum shooting out. You choke, gasping as you pulled out, swallowing as much as you could as he shot ropes all over your face.

“Oh fuck, look at you covered in my cum,” he said, pulling the car to the side of the road, tossing his cigarette out the window.

“What are you doing?” You asked, trying to catch your breath.

“I’m about to clean your face and fuck your little cunt until you are begging me to stop.”

Taglist.

@gatoenlaciudad

@blackqueenstarseed1

#timothee chalamet #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee chalamet imagine #timothee chalamet smut #timothee chalamet x you #timothee chalamet fanfic #dark timmy #dark timothee #moment of impact

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wellthatjusthappend · 2 years

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I’d really like to request some Tim reactions and interactions in the divorce AU please?

Anon: thank thank you for updating ‘how we fall apart’, the way you wrote the last chapter was so good. can i add prompt please on seeing the family react to the letter and them turning their back on dick

++ a couple other similar requests for Tim/pack reactions.

Sure! Tim probably feels the most betrayed after the letter since he had been advocating for Dick before then.

"Hey Timbo," Dick went to ruffle Tim's hair only to have Tim duck out of the way and keep typing on his computer.

Dick paused.

It wasn't unusual for Tim to dodge him, but he usually squirmed and complained about it loudly. Now he wasn't even acknowledging Dick was there.

The air seemed a little colder.

"Right," sighed Dick, dropping into the chair next to him, "we should probably talk, huh?

Tim ignored him, just typing away, head held high.

Geez, he was pissed.

"I'm guessing this is about Jason?" Dick ventured. It wasn't really a question. There wasn't all that many other things he could be mad at him for. Not anything new anyway.

Tim twitched, but didn’t respond.

“I read his letter too you know,” Dick sighed, dropping into the chair next to him and propping his chin on his hands, “I really had no idea about most of that stuff. He was pushing me away and I honestly thought I was doing what he wanted.”

“And sleeping with Slade was doing what he wanted?” Tim spoke for the first time.

“...I didn’t realize that you knew about that,” Dick said after a long moment.

“It came up in a few of your arguments,” Tim said typing a little more violently, “I thought that Jason was just saying things to start stuff because of how Slade has always been with you. Didn’t realize until later that he meant literally.”

“Yeah… I’m not proud of it. But Timmy, Jason and I talked about that when it happened. I offered him an out then, but he wanted to try and fix things and we moved past it.”

“Did he move past it? Or just you?” Tim asked.

“Both of us did,” Dick insisted, surely Jason wouldn’t have let Dick back into their bed if he was still angry, right? “I’m not saying I deserved it, but we did. Now he killed someone- tried to kill me too- but it’s my turn to try and fix things.”

Tim paused.

“Is that really the way you see things?” he asked.

“Well, it’s what happened.”

“I don’t think Jason would agree with you.”

“You used to agree with me,” Dick pointed out.

“Yes, I did, but-” Tim stopped himself, “Dick do you even want to be married?”

“Of course- Of course I do! I love them, you know that, Tim,” Dick reeled back a little.

“And it’s not just guilt?” Tim finally turned to face him. His expression was closed off, but Dick could see the edges of hurt at the corners of his eyes.

“How can you ask me that? You know me, Tim,” Dick said, a bit offended.

“Yeah I do, and I thought-” Tim’s face scrunched up slightly with emotion, “I believed in you. I had reservations, but you both seemed happy, and you got a place together and were raising a kid, and were staying in one spot, one profession, one partner-”

“Tim-”

“But you weren’t. Not any of it. I thought- but it was all a lie.”

“It’s not! Why are you saying this Tim? You know I love them-”

“That’s never been enough for you!” Time cried, "You throw people away! You always have! Kori, Babs, your teams, m-me, and now even your family! The only one you haven't is Bruce, and that's not for lack of trying."

Dick felt like he'd been stabbed.

Tim was standing, hands still balled in fists, breathing like he'd been fighting. Fury was quickly giving way to quiet misery, but Dick could barely see him around the feeling rising in his own chest.

"Fuck. I shouldn't have- I didn't mean that," Tim said, eyes dropping slightly.

"I think you did," Dick said, and he was surprised by how cold it came out.

“Dick-”

“I think I better go, I’m obviously not welcome here,” Dick turned on his heel. Under the anger and hurt, he half expected Tim to try and stop him. The fact that he didn’t…

So Dick left.

He was apparently good at that.

#have some short angst #fic: As We Fall Apart #story requests #my writing

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maladaptvs · 5 months

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i still don’t know how to do my TK character headcanons cause not many would fit into concise categories ?

let’s revisit our wattpad phase and list the dates they’d take love interests on (EXCEPT I TRAUMADUMP ON O’DWYER??)

greg: greg does not ask you on a date. you have to do it. preferably take him somewhere he’s never been. (“How do you feel about Russia?”) NO SIT-DOWN FIRST FEW DATES. he’ll eat takeout with you in hotel rooms if you’d like to count that (i would).

gideon: this is difficult because it’s the 16th century. he’s showing you his bees and pressing flowers for you. zero physical contact from his direction, though you could do some Leaning into him without argument.

simon: he makes you dinner in his flat :3 it’s actually good! and he sneaks his hand across the table to hold yours.

pip!!! meetcute he stabs you in the thigh out of panic <3 no seriously, alright. he honestly just wants to trace his fingers over your shoulders for an hour, but he’ll amp up the effort and have coffee with you in a barnes n noble. you buy books for yourselves (maybe your favorites?) and swap. he learns a lot about you through reading it.

gregson: what is this? 1800s? what did you do then? just avoided the plague innit? i don’t know he tries to show you “cool” supernatural cases and explains why he named it what he did. it’s disturbing but at least he’s happy to share with you.

aitken: it’s a LONG date. an all-dayer. good morning, have you had breakfast? let’s go trail walking. get some lunch, where he asks “paintball or arcade?” and hopefully you pick the arcade (because he’s much too serious about playing paintball). he wins enough to buy you a little toy with his tickets. he’s not touchy, which makes his hand on your back while he adjusts your grip on an air rifle all the more heart-racing. he doesn’t seem to notice (or care?). later, he gets too invested, deafened by plinko, and finally asks if there’s anything YOU’D like to do. he asks about dinner, but you’ve gathered he’s not a restaurant lover. that, and he’s got mud stained shoes. you take dinner in to-go boxes (which annoys the staff) and end up at his flat watching Upgrade. no cuddles. yet.

gosh who else

OH jimbo. well. we know exactly how the date goes so is that necessary 🤨 and he Fucks.

we also know Wonderdate Timmy of course

WIRM LOL: let’s not pretend he’d like to take you on a date. we know how this goes. it’s dinner at a restaurant where he gets hammered and antagonizes the staff. he leaves either no tip or leaves way too much - no in between, but either way he’s calling the waitress sweetheart and she’s fuming. and then it’s on to bad sex with a drunken wirm being surprisingly obedient. we KNOW how this goes and we (i) sort of accept it.

O’Dwyer!! wow i haven’t thought about this for a moment. he’s a slut. i don’t know. he gets something doordashed to his cramped, messy apartment that has too low of lighting. he’s quite sweet, but it’s that prom king facade that your gut tells you isn’t true. you don’t really care. he’s nice enough, and when he’s finished with you he checks in once before turning on COD and ignoring you. (oh…)

Lawyer: yeah we know and he’s cheating on his wife while he does it

RAYMOND: raymond… god what does raymond do? brag? chop wood? maybe he “teaches” you some archery skills, but he’s too impatient and you end up just watching him dominate. he means well - it’s all to impress you, but obviously it doesn’t. you may take pity and go for a second date, if that’s your style.

SIDNEY: SIDNEY!!!!!!!!!!! sidney asks you what YOU want to do about 20 times. and whatever that ends up being, you catch him slapping a hand over his mouth too many times for you to ignore. he’s also glancing down at his phone while you speak, typing away. you realize later he was taking notes. you give him a peck before you leave.

jerry… something BORING and LAME like a war museum

CUSTOMER 😻😻🫶🫶 my husband tries to take you for dinner but it’s the most awkward tense and awful disaster and finally he offers to take you somewhere else. probably an arcade/rec room where he beats you in air hockey but wins you a plushie from a claw machine. it’s all awkward, but it’s endearing. (the second date is a movie. you can’t stop talking in the theatre and the people scolding you only make you laugh harder) (you’re menaces.)

sextus: forces you to watch him perform (you think you’re both going to see a play together. you’re wrong.) but at least he’s excited to see you when he’s off. his face is flushed and he’s very smiley and you think this wasn’t the worst date you’ve been on… but he makes you recount your favorite parts while he walks you home.

gary: takes you on his moped to some bad indie movie a “friend” of his probably filmed or acted in. that bit was cute, if annoying. but he takes you for food and asks what you want in a way that makes you say “nothing.” he doesn’t offer you any of his own. he’s not cruel, he’s stupid.

gavin: genuinely lovely? he takes you to some sort of art center with live music from local bands. maybe you watch someone paint on a stage. then it’s a walk through town. he points out small businesses and talks about the families that own them. you probably meet at least one cat. you’re not sure when you started holding hands, but you only notice when he lets go at the end of the night.

dale: dale isn’t fucking around. you go for a walk. he opens with questions about marriage, kids, where you’d prefer to live, where you work, if you’d consider leaving your job. he can worry about your personality after. if this questionnaire works out, he takes a breath and lets out a sigh that finally chills you both out. he asks if you want to stop for coffee. he buys you a chocolate croissant too. if you do marry him, it’ll be soon.

#long post #headcanon #tk roles #aitken #pip #etc etc #headcanons #hurried writing

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dccomicsimagines · 3 years

Text

Study Help - Tim Drake x Reader - Part Two

Warning - Adult Content Ahead -NSFW

Part One

Requested by @sannevd5 - Can there be a Study Help Tim Drake x Reader part 2 where they get revenge on Damian

***

You glanced over at Tim who was fast asleep in the passenger seat. Your hands gripped the steering wheel and you focused on the road. You widened your eyes to keep them open. Exhaustion weighed on you. Finally, the manor came into view. “We’re here,” you whispered, nudging Tim with your elbow.

Tim jerked awake. “What? Is it the baby?” He glanced around in a panic, wiping the drool off his chin. You snorted and peeked back at the sleeping baby in the backseat.

“He’s fine, Timmy. Sleeping like his daddy.” You laughed. Baby Jack was fast asleep, probably tired from crying the night away last night.

“Are you okay?” Tim said, touching your arm. He had that protective look on his face again.

“I’m fine.” You smiled at him and opened your window to type in the code once you pulled up to the gate. “You were the one who was up with Jack all night.”

Tim rubbed his eyes. “I was up anyway though, and you didn’t actually sleep, you were with me the whole time.”

You shrugged, pulling up the driveway once the gate opened. “Still, I’m fine, Tim.” Tim squeezed your hand tightly. You wondered if he would ever stop being overprotective of you. Apparently, being kidnapped by Ra’s al Ghul for two months during your pregnancy was enough to keep Tim on edge permanently. You parked the car.

Tim rushed out of the car and ran to your side to open the door. You smiled, rolling your eyes. “What? It’s the least I could do since you drove,” Tim said. You opened the back door to gather up Jack while Tim grabbed the bags.

“Master Tim, Miss (Y/N), welcome.” Alfred opened the front door.

“Hello, Alfred.” You hurried up the stairs and hugged him with one arm. Jack was smashed between you, but he didn’t even stir.

Alfred laughed, hugging you back before pulling away to get a good look at Jack. “Well, look at Master Jack. He’s grown so much.”

“Well, it’s been one month,” you said, handing Jack over to Alfred. “He was up all night like he is every night, so he’s sleeping like a log.”

Tim struggled with the bags. You turned to help him. “Oh, so it looks like Master Jack is a night owl like the rest of the family.” Alfred beamed, looking very much like a proud grandfather.

“Unfortunately, he got that from Tim.” You and Tim headed inside.

“Har, har.” Tim kissed your cheek. “I’ll run our bags to our room.” You and Tim were staying for the weekend at Bruce’s insistence.

“Where’s everyone?” You closed the door once Alfred was in. He rocked Jack, who was kicking one foot in his sleep.

Alfred hummed. “Master Bruce is downstairs.” You smiled, knowing Alfred meant he was in the Batcave. “Master Damian and his friend are in his room.”

You froze. “His friend?” You smirked. “Is this the one who we think they are dating, but Damian keeps denying it?”

“Yes.” Alfred shook his head. He wrinkled his nose and shifted Jack in his arms. “It feels like Master Jack needs a changing.”

“Oh, I’ll do it.” You took Jack back, realizing Tim took the diaper bag upstairs with him. “I’ll be back, Alfred.” You headed up the stairs. Outside of Damian’s door, you paused. You swore you heard the moans inside. Glee filled you. Was this the time? Would you finally get your revenge?

You hurried to the bedroom. Tim looked up as you entered, confused by the grin on your face. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong.” You handed Jack to Tim. “Change him for me and meet me in Damian’s room.”

“Why?” Tim frowned. “(Y/N), are you planning something?”

“Timmy, there comes a time where opportunity rings and we have to answer.” You kissed his lips passionately before pulling away.

“(Y/N).” Tim gasped, glancing down at Jack who woke up fussing.

You grinned at him. “Just meet me there in a few minutes.” You left the room and hurried back down to Damian’s room. The moans were still there, louder and more intense than before. You smirked, knocking on the door. “Damian, I just wanted to say hi.”

You opened the door without warning. A laugh threatened to escape you, but you swallowed it to play this straight. Damian and his friend flipped around under the covers in a similar way Tim always did when Damian interrupted you. The shoe really was on the other foot.

“Oh, you must be Damian’s friend. I heard so much about you.” You came over to stand next to the bed. The friend’s face was flushed and they hid their face under the covers. “A little shy? That’s okay. I’m Damian’s sister-in-law.” You grinned at Damian who was death glaring at you. “(Y/N) (Y/L/N) Drake.”

“We were busy.” Damian snarled.

“Were you?” You blinked innocently, but you could see Damian’s eyes flash. He didn’t buy it and knew exactly what you were doing.

Tim wandered inside, eyes widening when he took in Damian and his friend in the bed with you standing beside him. Jack gurgled in his arms. “(Y/N), did you just...”

“Hi baby.” You took Jack from Tim, ignoring Tim’s protest. Kissing the top of Jack’s head, you glanced between Damian and his friend. “You two should be careful, having fun has consequences.” A dangerous smirk came to your lips. “You might get kidnapped by Ra’s or...” You glanced down at Jack.

Damian lunged for you, but Tim stepped in front of you and quickly ushered you out of the room. “Okay, enough now. It was nice meeting you,” Tim said, blushing redder than his Red Robin suit. He pulled you back to his old bedroom. “What the hell was that about, (Y/N)?”

You laughed, sitting down on the bed with Jack nuzzling against your chest. “Revenge is sweet, Timmy. So sweet.”

“Revenge? What kind of revenge involves walking in on Damian while he and his friend...” Tim choked, traumatized.

“Oh stop it. You didn’t see anything.” You closed your eyes and rested your head against the headboard. “He interrupted us so many times. Using Bruce, Dick, Steph, even Jason to ruin our moments. It was only fair I would do it to him.”

Tim took a breath. You opened your eyes to see him struggling not to laugh. “Still, now he’s probably going to stab you.”

You smiled. “He wouldn’t dare with you around.” Tim’s shoulders straightened as you stoked his ego. He came around the bed and crawled in next to you. You leaned into him, ignoring Jack’s drool soaking into your shirt.

Your eyes grew heavy. “Take a nap. You need your rest,” Tim whispered in your ear. His arm cradled yours to support Jack as you fell fast asleep.

***

“Look how much he’s grown,” Bruce said. You handed Jack off to him before taking a seat at the dining room table.

“I know. Sometimes it’s like he grows an inch every day.” You smiled when Tim came over to pour your drink. Alfred came out of the kitchen with dinner.

Bruce rocked Jack. Jack gurgled at him, waving his arm around wildly. Damian stalked into the room. His glare darker than death. You just smiled sweetly at him.

“Master Damian, where is your friend? Are they not joining us?” Alfred asked.

“No, they went home. They couldn’t face this monstrosity again.” He pointed at you.

Tim tensed, setting down the pitcher and leaning in front of you. You wanted to laugh, but you held it in. It would just set Damian off and Tim would have to defend you.

“Damian,” Bruce snapped sharply, narrowing his eyes at his son. “That is uncalled for.”

“Uncalled for?!” Damian threw his arms up in the air. “That harlot ruined...” He stopped, blushing slightly when he realized what he was about to admit. A snicker escaped you. Damian’s eyes flashed and he lunged for you. Tim blocked him, pushing him back.

“Knock it off, Damian. It’s not like you haven’t done it to us.” Tim’s shoulders straightened into a defensive pose. “And that’s my wife you’re talking about. Don’t ever call her that again.”

You got to your feet to take Jack back from Bruce when he started to fuss at the raised voices. “I think someone’s hungry. I’ll go feed him. You can start dinner without me,” you said calmly and quickly leaving the room. Tim was right behind you.

Entering the kitchen, you fed Jack, sitting at one of the stools by the counter. Tim hovered in full overprotective mode. “I told you he would explode like that.”

“Of course, he doesn’t like it when others get revenge on him,” you said, smiling down at Jack as he ate. “He’s always been entitled.”

Tim hummed in agreement. He sat on the stool next to you. A soft chuckle escaped his lips. “Can you believe he almost admitted to having sex in front of Bruce and Alfred?”

“I know.” You laughed. “I almost lost it there, but I knew he would just go off the deep end.”

Alfred came into the kitchen with two full plates. “I figured you two should eat while it’s hot. Besides, I think some distance would be good.” He set them on the counter.

“I’m sorry for causing trouble, Alfred.” You looked at him with genuine apology.

“It is alright, Miss (Y/N). After all, he did ask for it.” Alfred smiled somewhat mischievously before leaving.

“I think you are Alfred’s favorite.” Tim took a bite of his food first. He moaned before feeding you a bite.

The food melted in your mouth. “Maybe or he’s just happy we stopped Damian from having unprotected sex.”

Tim almost spit out his food. “How did you know that?”

“Please. There’s a reason they went really red when I mentioned consequences.” You ate with your free hand since Tim was still in a state of shock. “It’s not like anyone gave him the sex talk. I mean you knew nothing.”

Tim blushed. “True.” He cleared his throat. “But you knew.”

“Also true, but that doesn’t mean that Damian’s friend knows.” You put Jack to your shoulder to burp him. He spit up a little. You wrinkled your nose when you felt it slide down your back. “Tim, if you could grab a napkin please.”

Tim blinked. “Oh.” He grabbed a napkin and stood to clean up your back as Jack started to fuss. You bounced him, calming him down. Tim sat back down and went back to eating.

“You know, there is another way we could add to our revenge.” You smirked and kissed Jack’s head. “Can we call Dick after dinner?”

Tim’s jaw dropped. “Now that’s too mean.” Tim shook his head. “We couldn’t. Damian would really stab you after that.”

You shrugged. “He can try.” You got to your feet to walk Jack around the kitchen so he would fall back to sleep. “Besides, this is a good thing. We don’t need Damian to get into the kind of trouble we got into.”

“The trouble you’re currently holding?” Tim took the last bite of his food. He got up and offered to take Jack from you. “Go back to eating, sweetheart.”

You smiled, kissing Tim’s cheek. “I love you.” Jack went over to his father calmly and you sat down to eat your cool food. You watched Tim walk around with his son. Your heart melted into a pile of goo and you couldn’t imagine loving them both more.

***

“What are you doing up?” Bruce asked, poking his head into the den. You flinched in surprise, causing Jack to start screaming again.

“Oh, my son’s colic triggered again.” You got up to walk him around the room with your eyes closed. Bruce’s presence stayed by the door as you walked the path you memorized hours before.

“Tim should be up in a few minutes.” Bruce’s warm, strong hand rested on your shoulder, stopping you. “Go to bed, I’ll take care of Jack.”

Your eyes snapped open and you spun to look at Bruce in compete shock. “What? You’ll take care of Jack?”

Bruce chuckled. “I do know how to take care of a baby. Besides, at this point, I wouldn’t be able to sleep worrying about you walking around with your eyes closed.”

“I guess I am pretty tired.” You handed Jack over, but you couldn’t leave the room. “Am I a bad parent? I can’t leave him.”

“No, you’re not, but it’s okay to accept help once and a while. He’ll be safe with me and I promise if I need anything, I’ll get Alfred.” Bruce pushed you toward the door where Tim stood watching the exchange with the same surprise you had moments before. “Tim, take her to bed before she falls down.”

You stared back at Jack as Tim wrapped an arm around your waist to pull you out of the room. “He’ll be fine. Come on,” Tim whispered in your ear.

“Okay, okay.” Tears filled your eyes. “I’m a bad parent, aren’t I?”

“No, you’re not.” Tim squeezed your hip. “But you need a break. We both need a break.” Tim kissed your cheek. You stumbled on the stairs, but Tim caught you and scooped you up into his arms. “Woah, there.” Your head fell limply on Tim’s shoulder.

“Sorry.” You mumbled, opening your eyes to see Damian watching you and Tim from the bottom of the stairs. His expression bewildered and confused. “Hi, Damian. How was patrol?”

Tim tensed, turning around to face Damian himself. You had to roll your head to keep him in your eyesight. “TT.” He frowned at you and Tim.

“Sorry about embarrassing your friend, Damian, but it was nice for the shoe to be on the other foot for once,” you mumbled.

“Hush.” Tim bounced you slightly in his arms. “Don’t piss him off now.”

“He won’t get mad. I apologized.” You waved at Damian, focusing on Tim. “Can we go back to Jack now? I’m a bad parent for leaving him.”

Tim sighed.��“No, we’re going to bed, sweetheart. You’re not thinking straight.” Tim turned to head up the stairs with you. Damian watched the two of you go with a blank expression.

You let your head rest on Tim’s shoulder as he bumped the bedroom door open with his hip. He laid you down on the bed. You melted into it. “Tim, why can’t we have fun anymore?”

“We have fun.” Tim kissed your forehead. You sighed, hearing him pull away to move around the room.

“No, we don’t. We just sleep all the time and take care of Jack.” You kept your eyes closed. Your body limp as Tim crawled into bed next to you and pulled you into his arms.

Tim kissed the corner of your mouth. “We will someday. This is just one of the hard parts, but that’s why we came to the manor, so we can get some help.”

You opened your eyes to look at him. “Wait, I thought Bruce invited us over?”

“He did after I asked for help.” Tim tightened his arms around you. “I’m worried about you. You’re a great mother and you give it your all, but you’re so tired.” He kissed your nose. “We need some rest.”

“You always need rest,” you said, closing your eyes and sighing in relief. Tim was right, you weren’t a failure as a parent. You just needed help and a break.

Tim chuckled. “True. Good night, sweetheart.”

You hummed, feeling yourself slipping into the nothingness of sleep. “Love you.”

“I love you too.” You almost didn’t hear him as you let yourself relax for the first time in a long time.

***

Sun blinded you, pulling you from the deep, dreamless sleep. You opened your eyes to find yourself still in Tim’s old bedroom at the manor. Tim was spooned into your back. You smiled when you felt a certain part of him poking you from behind.

“Tim.” You turned in his arms to face him. He opened his eyes, yawning.

“Morning, beautiful.” He kissed your lips. You slid your hand down his chest and under the waistband of his boxers. Tim jumped, blushing. “What?”

“You really can’t tell. You were poking me.” A smirk pulled at your lips when Tim moaned at your touch.

“Well, I was having a good dream.” Tim closed his eyes, shivering. “You and I were at that hotel in Vegas, and you were in that outfit with the littlest...”

Cutting him off with a kiss, your thumb circled his tip and made him tremble. “Let me take care of you,” you whispered softly.

“I should be taking care of you.” Tim cleared his throat. “We haven’t since Jack was born.” Tim’s hand slipped under your shirt, but you grabbed his wrist with your free hand.

“I’m not ready for that.” You looked him in the eye. “Not all the way.”

Tim leaned forward to kiss your lips, rubbing his foot against yours. “How about we just touch? Like you’re doing to me now.” You traced a vein on his cock. Tim shivered. His hand flexed against your bare stomach. Your face burned, thinking of the baby weight you still carried.

“Fine. Only touch.” You leaned over to bury your face into his neck. Your hand let go of Tim’s wrist to allowed his hand to find his way up your chest. His other hand played with the waistband of your pajamas, tugging them down.

His long, strong fingers found your clit. You hissed and tightened your hand around Tim. Tim choked. “Careful, sweetheart.”

“It’s okay. I won’t break your T-Rex.” You giggled breathlessly. Tim’s fingers were rough with calluses, the friction making your body tense, skin tingle. You stroked his cock with just your fingertips.

Tim panted. You gripped him and slid your hand up and down the length of him. Tim’s fingers stopped playing with you. “You’re distracting me.”

“Right.” You kissed his jawline, working him harder than before. Tim tensed. “Are you close, sweetheart?”

“I am.” Tim choked, looking you in the eye.

“Then let go.” You smiled at him sweetly and sealed a kiss to his lips. Tim shivered and spilled into your hand. Most of the mess was caught inside his boxers. You pulled your hand out, wiping your hand on his boxers.

Tim closed his eyes, panting against your lips as you kissed the corner of his mouth. His fingers circled your clit again. You gasped. “Now I take care of you.” Tim whispered, one hand went under your shirt again and cupped your breast.

You relaxed. Your skin tingled again, feeling the flutter of your heart as Tim squeezed your breast gently. His lips tickled your skin, kissing down your neck. “It’s only fair that I leave you a mess too.”

You wrinkled your nose, giggling as your body tensed. One of Tim’s thin fingers entered you. You jumped in surprise. “Oh.” Your hand rested on his wrist. “Careful.”

“I’m careful.” Tim hummed. “Tell me if you want me to stop.”

“It’s okay.” You closed your eyes, taking a slow breath. “I love you.”

“I love you too. More than anything.” Tim’s head went under your shirt to kiss his way up your stomach. You rested your hands on his shoulders.

You felt that familiar tension building up inside of you. Your nails dug into Tim’s shoulders. Tim groaned against your stomach. “Close, huh?”

“Yeah.” You lost your breath. Tim’s finger curled inside of you and you were suddenly among the stars. “Wow.”

A knock suddenly came from the door. Tim jerked away from you, quickly pulling the blankets up and around the two of you. “Yes?” he asked. You giggled, panting as you came down from the high. You smirked when you felt Tim’s hand was still on your breast.

Damian entered with Jack gurgling in his arms. He looked slightly disappointed. “Take care of your offspring.” He handed Jack to you.

“Hi Jackie.” You showered his little face with kisses. He touched your cheek with his tiny, perfect hand, enjoying the attention.

“How did you get him?” Tim asked. Damian’s eyes went to your chest and Tim quickly pull his hand away. A blush dusted his cheeks.

“Pennyworth asked me to watch him.” He crossed his arms. “You invited Grayson over?”

Tim looked at you. “Yes, I did.” You smiled at Damian sweetly. “And if we call a truce, I won’t tell him to give you the sex talk.”

Damian’s eyes widened slightly. “TT.” He glared at you. “What kind of a truce?”

“Well, if you quit interrupting us, we won’t interrupt you.” You handed Jack to Tim, looking Damian the eye.

Damian hummed. He rubbed his chin, biting his lip. “Fine, I agree.” He spun on his heel. “But if Grayson tries to talk to me, I will break this truce.”

“Fair.” You smiled, relaxing against the pillows. Damian closed the door securely behind him. Tim stared at you with his jaw dropped. You took Jack back from him when he started to whine. “What?” You reached up to close his jaw.

“Did you just get Damian to promise not to bother us? He just came in here disappointed that he didn’t catch us in the act.” Tim pointed at the door, eyes wild.

“Well, it’s only fair. Damian was always about revenge.” You smiled at Jack, cooing at him in a soft voice. “But now we’ll be good and maybe we can give Jack siblings.”

The blood drained out of Tim’s face. “More kids? When did you decide that?”

You snorted, patting Tim’s cheek with your free hand. “Not now, Timmy. Later, when Jack’s like four or something.”

Tim glanced at Jack. A dopey smile grew onto his lips. “I suppose that’s fine. I mean if we can handle Jack, we can handle another one.”

You leaned over to kiss his cheek. “That’s what I was thinking.” Tim turned to catch your lips with his. Jack fell asleep in your arms and you couldn’t be happier.

#tim drake #tim drake x reader #tim drake imagine #red robin #red robin x reader #red robin imagine #dc comics imagines #dc reader insert #batfamily imagine #batfamily x reader

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batsandbugs · 3 years

Text

The Great IKEA Game

Chapter 4: The Three Stooges

AN: At least it hasn’t been two months again 😅. Let’s check in with the other batboys and see how they’re handling Damian and Marinette’s chaos.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Tim wondered when his day took a solid dive off the cliffs of normal and into the waters of weird.

It probably started when Dick dragged them out of bed at eight in the morning – on a Saturday – piled them into the car, and drove them an hour and a half out of the city to an IKEA. If they had actually been there to shop they would have either burned the store down or killed one another.

Not that those things were off the table yet.

Tim had work, actual work, that he could be doing. But no, instead he was playing a demented game of hide-and-go-seek, which was careening into an all-out war. The destroyed shelving units, shopping carts, and forklift were unmistakable evidence of that.

How had the demon spawn accomplished this in less than a minute?

Bruce would kill them, once he came back from off-world.

That is if Alfred didn’t get to them first.

“Uh, order 177? Shit, my pay isn't enough for this.”

The words shook Tim from his stupor. He walked over to the counter.

“Hi,” he said, flashing his most charming CEO grin. “I have a quick question?”

The server's fixed smile contrasted with his dull eyes.

“I need to know what way the boy who ordered this headed.”

“No.”

Tim sighed, “Look, it’s important. My brother-”

“I mean, no, it wasn’t a boy.”

Tim paused. “Huh?”

“It was a girl, a teen girl. Black hair, big blue eyes, French accent. She was sitting over there,” he waved at an empty table. “But I think she walked away before that happened.” Referring to the giant train wreck occurring a few aisles over.

“Oh,” said Tim. “Thanks.”

“Do you want the order?”

Tim held back an annoyed sigh.

“Sure.”

So that’s how he, Jason, and Dick, sat at the abandoned picnic table, staring at the abandoned meal bought with Damian’s credit card. Jason grabbed a couple of fries and shoved them in his mouth.

“That’s evidence, nitwit,” hissed Tim.

Jason ignored him, stabbing a meatball with the plastic fork. “What? It’s going to go to waste. Girlie obviously ain’t coming back for it.”

“We should be more worried about how a random girl used Damian’s credit card!”

“She could have stolen it?” offered Dick.

“Demon spawn would have broken her arm before getting pickpocketed,” countered Jason, eating another fry. Silence. A weird glint appeared in Jason's eye. He turned to Tim. “What did you say the girl looked like again?”

“Black hair, blue eyes, French accent.”

“Shit,” muttered Jason.

“What?”

“I think I ran into her earlier, about an hour and a half ago. Asked her if she had run into demon spawn – she sounded confused and tourist-like. But maybe…”

“Maybe she’s working with him?” offered Tim.

“Could be.”

“Damian? Working with another person? A stranger?” Dick shook his head. “Doesn’t sound like him.”

Jason shoved another fry into his mouth. “The brat’s a competitive little shit, if he thought teaming up would help him get ahead, he’d do it in a heartbeat.” He pointed a fry at Tim. “Can you look at the security footage?”

“I’m already two steps ahead of you,” Tim said, flashing his phone with the hacked in security camera footage on-screen. Jason and Dick huddled in close as a small girl walk on screen and stood at the counter.

“Yep, that’s her. Can you ID her, Timmy?”

Tim rolled his eyes, “This is a smartphone, Jay, not a laptop.”

“I thought Mr. World’s Second Greatest Detective would be prepared for anything.”

“Well excuse me for not having facial recognition software, on my phone.”

“Guys chill.”

“Shut up, Dick,” Jason and Tim said in unison.

The footage played out and they watched the girl order two meals and pay with Damian’s credit card. They switched to another camera when she left and sat at the picnic table. A few minutes later Jason and Tim walked into frame.

“Look, there! She tenses. Look at her body language, she’s panicking. She knows who you two are.” Dick looked shocked that, yes, Damian had teamed up with a partner.

They watched the girl panic, although she managed to keep her body from reacting too much. She placed her phone to her ear and walked away from her spot.

“Who is she talking to?”

“Maybe Damian was watching out of sight?”

“Shoot, Tim, she’s out of frame. Do we have another angle?”

It took another minute or so, but Tim found the right security camera catching the mysterious girl leaving the food court. As she walked away the image on the screen flickered, and a moment later the shelving units fell.

“Oh crap,” swore Jason. “Do you think she has magic? Fuck, it would be just our luck if demon spawn teamed up with someone dangerous.”

Dick shook his head. “It could be a coincidence. We didn’t see her do anything. The chaos could have been a coordinated effort between her and Damian.”

Tim wasn’t so sure. “Come on Dick, you’ve been in the game long enough to know just because something looks one way, doesn’t mean it's true.”

They watched the girl hurry out of sight, this time it was much more difficult to follow her progress through the store. She would randomly duck in and out of showrooms, coming out differently than how she came in. If the three boys hadn’t been trained in stealth and detection for years, they would have had a challenging time tracking her.

Jason whistled low. “Who is this chick? I’m impressed. She has serious skill.”

Finally, she ducked into a showroom and didn’t come out. Tim couldn’t find a camera giving them an unobstructed view, but it didn't matter. They had a destination.

“This was ten minutes ago, they could already be long gone,” said Dick.

“Or they could still be hiding there,” countered Jason.

“We’ll find out when we get there.” They walked out of the cafeteria and past the closed aisles. The forklift that had been buried under the collapsed shelving unit was being unearthed by a flock of bewildered employees.

“Ten bucks says she has magic,” said Jason.

“Yeah, no.” Tim was good at math and the odds of everything happening just as she left was too big to be a coincidence. “I’m not stupid enough to take that bet.”

“Come on you guys, let’s focus here,” chided Dick.

Walking back through the showrooms Tim kept an eye out for any sign of his brother or his accomplice, but it was as if they had disappeared into thin air. Arriving at the last location they had spotted the girl, they waited for a touring couple to leave before descending on the tiny, boxed room like the detectives they were trained to be.

It didn’t take long to discover the lasered off vent.

“Shit,” groaned Jason. “They could be anywhere by now.”

“Tim can you-”

Tim had his phone in hand, “I’m already on it. I’ll have the vent layout in a minute.” He felt insulted they even needed to ask.

Jason peered into the vent, “Damn, I think we’re too big to follow.”

Dick sighed. “I miss my vent crawling days; they just don’t make them as big as they used to.”

“That’s what she said,” snickered Jason.

“Focus you two,” Tim snapped. “I’ve pulled up the air duct plans.” He flashed the screen to his two brothers who settled down. “This particular vent runs a couple of places. We have one entrance at the back of the store in the storeroom. Then another veering off near the daycare center, and the last which comes out near the unloading dock.”

“I’ll take the one next to the daycare center,” said Dick. “I’m the only one who isn't demented,” pointing to Jason, “or sleep-deprived,” pointing to Tim.

“Hey!” exclaimed Jason.

Tim sneered, repressing a Damian-like growl, “I wouldn’t be so sleep deprived if you hadn’t dragged us out of the house at eight in the morning. I arrived in from patrol at three.” He hadn’t had coffee in hours, and the weight of his body pressed on him like a panini maker.

Dick ignored them. “Jason can take the one at the loading docks, and Tim you’ll be able to bypass security and get into the back the easiest.”

“Sounds good to me,” grunted Jason.

“Alright,” agreed Tim. “The second any of us spots them, text the group chat, will box them in from there.”

They nodded and headed off their separate ways. Despite the tiredness in Tim's bones, there was a heady rush of the hunt thrumming in his veins. Damian, and whoever he had decided to pair up with, were going down.

Tag List: (Closed, sorry!! I’m so glad you all like it though.)

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theres-an-impulstor-among-us · 3 years

Note

Yo your writing is good and I have a prompt if youd be interested in some 3rd life angst.

Tw death: Jimmy loses his last life and Scott promises that as soon as he's red, he'll get revenge on whoever took Jimmy's last life

for the record: i am ALWAYS interested in 3rd Life angst :D

tw for kinda permadeath and tw for blood

…

“Hello, Jimmy.”

Jimmy starts in surprise, looking around him through the trees. “Joel?”

Joel emerges from behind a tree, grinning. “Hey. Whatcha doing way out here?”

“No offense but that isn’t any of your business,” responds Jimmy steadily.

“Really? Considering you’re a red name dangerously close to my house, I beg to differ.”

“You’re red too,” Jimmy points out. “I should feel just as threatened by you as you are of me.”

“If you’re threatened by me then you’re an utter wimp.”

“I’m not a wimp!” snaps Jimmy.

“Then prove it.” Joel smirks. “Fight me.”

“Fight you?” Jimmy repeats in surprise.

“Yeah, have a 1v1 with me right now. Fight to the death. I’d say what the winner gets but I guess you already know: they get to survive, along with the knowledge that they’ve gotten rid of one more part of the competition.”

Jimmy hesitates, glancing back towards the direction he came from. “I should… talk to Scott first.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot. You always do exactly what Scott says, don’t you? Guess you’d better run back home with your little tail between your legs and ask him permission to be an adult.”

Jimmy clenches his fists, his blood starting to boil. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m calling you his little puppy dog who runs back to his master in fear whenever a big scary leaf falls on his head,” Joel responds tauntingly. “Because that’s what you are.”

“I am not! I’m on my red life, Joel. And unlike you, I actually have someone who’ll miss me when I die.”

Joel raises an eyebrow. “That’s some real tough talk there, Timmy.”

“Don’t call me that!” Jimmy snaps. “You don’t get to call me that!”

“What are you gonna do about it, Timmy?”

This finally causes Jimmy to snap. Drawing his sword, he leaps to attack Joel, who neatly steps out of the way and swings his own weapon. Jimmy is only just able to dodge in time.

As the two engage in an intense sword fight, someone who just happened to be passing by and witness the whole thing takes off running. There’s someone he needs to warn.

“Why are you doing this, Joel?!” cries Jimmy, struggling to keep up with his former friend. “Red lifers are supposed to go after greens and yellows, not each other!”

“You know me, Jimmy.” Joel’s grin widens as he knocks Jimmy’s sword aside. “I just want to watch the world burn.”

With that, he stabs Jimmy straight through the chest.

“NOOOOOOOOO!” comes a scream immediately.

Joel spins round to find Scott sprinting down the hill, BigB trailing behind him. He withdraws his sword, leaving Jimmy to crumple to the ground.

Scott vaults over a tree stump and dashes to where Jimmy fell. He drops down on his knees beside him and cradles him in his arms. “Jimmy? C-Can you hear me?”

Jimmy coughs, gasping for breath. “Scott… I’m so sorry…”

“Shh,” Scott whispers, steadying Jimmy so that his friend can breathe easier. “You don’t have to speak. Just… Just hang on.”

He doesn’t know why he said that. Both of them know that Jimmy isn’t going to make it.

“I sh-should never have done this,” croaks Jimmy. “I shouldn’t have f-fought him. I’m sorry…”

“Jimmy, please don’t apologise.” Scott’s voice is shaking, but he doesn’t care about hiding it. “This is not your fault, do you hear me? Do not blame yourself.”

Jimmy squeezes his eyes shut, releasing his tears. His breathing has become more laboured. “I-I’m scared, Scott…”

“It’s okay to be scared.” Scott holds his friend tighter, letting Jimmy’s head rest on his chest. “But I’m here, okay? I’ll be here until the end.”

“Th-Thank you for being my friend.” Jimmy takes in a shuddering breath. “I love you.”

“I love you too, buddy,” whispers Scott, tears filling his eyes. “And I swear to god, I’ll avenge you. When I’m down to red, I’ll go on a rampage and drag Joel’s ass down with me.”

Jimmy manages a quiet giggle. “I wish I could see that.” After a pause, he whispers, “I’ll miss you on the other side.”

Scott tries to speak again but his voice fails him and all that comes out is a hoarse, “me too.” All his strength is being poured into holding back his tears. He won’t let Jimmy see him cry.

After a moment, Jimmy leans back against Scott and closes his eyes. Scott continues to hold him close until he feels Jimmy’s body vanish and a notification comes through on his communicator.

SolidarityGaming was slain by SmallishBeans

Scott buries his face in his hands and cries. His clothes are stained with Jimmy’s blood but he doesn’t care about that. All he cares about is the fact that his best friend and closest ally is gone. His world is falling apart around him.

A little way off, Joel approaches him, a semi-sympathetic look on his face. “I’m sorry, Scott.”

“Shut up,” snarls Scott, his words coming out through ragged breaths. “Get the hell away from me. The next time I see you better be when I’m on red and about to stab you in the face.”

Joel doesn’t move. “You’re grieving, Scott. It’s only natural after a loss. You don’t-.”

Scott shoots up from the ground and punches Joel in the face in one swift motion.

Joel staggers back, clutching his jaw, and looks back at Scott, whose crimson face is a picture of pure fury, hatred, and grief.

He decides not to push his luck further.

Scott watches him flee for a moment, before turning back to the puddle of blood on the ground. He touches the scarf Jimmy made for him, hanging a little limper around his neck.

I’ll avenge you, Jimmy, he swears silently, pain threatening to overcome him. I promise.

#3rd life smp #3rdlifesmp #solidaritygaming #smajor1995 #smallishbeans #vaunna’s requests

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savebatsfromscratch · 3 years

Text

@dancinglifeboat I wrote the fanfic finally! :D

(Also on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32517502 )

A fic about Ghostbur and c!Solidaritygaming stuck together in limbo after their deaths. :) (It's really fluffy compared to what I usually write,.,,.)

(I put triggers for a few things in the tags but here are the ones I put on Ao3:

Death Downing Loss of a loved one Body Horror Getting shot? )

Please don't copy or repost anywhere!!

JIMMY + GHOSTBUR FIC START NOWWW-

“Ah!” he screamed, stabbing pain shooting through his head. The arrow had hit him right in the face, piercing through the skin easily and passing into his brain.

His knees hit the ground heavily, causing sand getting into the wounds that covered his skin. “Scott,” he hissed, blood filling his mouth as an unbearable pain covered all other senses. He fell forwards, the pressure not only pushing the arrow further into his skull, but also chipping his last life away. It was as if he had been torn from his body and thrown back, the ghostly spirit staying floating for a moment before being dragged down, down, down, until he no longer knew which direction was up.

. . .

Darkness filled his vision, the drowned’s glowing blue eyes burning with tears as he spun through the void. His lungs seemed to be filled with water, the drowning constant and inescapable. Occasionally, he would think he would spot a star, but every time it would be swiftly snuffed out before he got a good look at it, so it wasn’t much of a comfort. He would try to scream, in pain or for help it didn’t matter, his mouth would be filled with some inky substance that choked the words away. Ears rang and buzzed as he tried to focus on any sound at all. There was so much but it was all so far away…

He missed his husband. That man would have been able to help him, he would have pulled him out of the darkness and chided him, “Be more careful around the lake Jimmy, you don’t want to drown do you?” and then he would have pulled him into a hug and run his fingers through his hair, gently asking if he was alright. ...and he would be. Everything would be good and he would be fine.

Light would filter through clouds and illuminate the flowers around the lake. The border to their side would have meant nothing, they could just hug and finally be together. Scott could teach him how to build better, slowly helping sculpt his house into slightly less of a mess. He would teach him how to play Chick-Chance and purposely pick eggs to let Scott win. Both of them would pet Daisy, pretending she was still the original. Maybe they could even have won that twisted story. Maybe, in this fantasy, Jimmy wouldn’t have been the first to die.

Dragged back into reality, he let out a pained sob, the inky blackness instantly gagging him, filling his lungs with even more unbearable sludge. It hurt so much. Why couldn’t Scott just be here with him? Why must he suffer alone? Was this what he had experienced on his first “last death”? Was that why he couldn’t remember it or much of what came before? So many questions plagued his mind, but even more pain prevented any of them from being thought about. It was blinding as the stars of night, and as smothering as the smoke from a bad memory. God it was awful.

Until it wasn’t.

He didn’t know when it happened, but at some point, the pain of the void had gone away. He had lost the memory of any cycle of time, and the only memory of “sleep” was too hard to think about. It reminded him of better times, which in turn made him think about why he was here. It was a sort of limbo, and it felt like the end of the world was already here.

But he still told himself it was alright.

-- - - - -

Sometime later something interesting happened. There was a loud sound and a huge puff of smoke. Jimmy had tried to swim away from it at first, but his eyes had caught on what was left in that smoke. A man had been left sitting there, shaking and crying, and trying desperately to leave. He seemed to be stuck on some sort of concrete square, while Jimmy could float and swim as he pleased. (However, he couldn’t really breathe, while the man on the platform seemed to be hyperventilating just fine. He wasn’t sure if he was jealous of this or not.)

Eventually, he had worked up the courage to move towards the man, but, as he did, odd things happened. He would be thrown through the blackness at random intervals, always crashing into a wall he knew was not there. He would feel an awful pain in his chest as if he was stabbed through with a sword. He would imagine odd scenes, TNT blowing up over a nation he did not know, a blue sheep walking softly through a nether portal. It had to mean something... but what? That he did not know. Of course, things he did know were shown to him as well. Memories would work their way to the surface, and as expected, they were always things he wished to forget. Bubbles rising slowly to the surface of a loser’s lagon, a church in flames, fire spreading across a cobblestone floor, a definingly loud explosion, an arrow through his skull. . . There seemed to be a sort of pattern here, but he refused to see it.

Even so, he pushed on.

The distance between the two shrank slower than he had thought possible. He would struggle through the darkness as if it was some sort of sticky slime in need of cleaning, but eventually, his squirming paid off.

His feet touched down on the island of concrete, and instantly he felt gravity fall back onto him. But that wasn’t the only thing that was back. He fell to his knees, coughing and retching, trying to get the sludge out of his lungs. He suddenly felt the need to breathe burning through him, and honestly, the scared voice asking if he was alright was the least of his worries right now. He hacked and choked, until, with a loud and wet splattering sound, a hunk of black-ish purple goo hit the ground in front of him.

He stayed that way for a moment, trembling and relishing the air. Even if it was sort of the opposite of fresh, he hadn’t taken a breath in so long that it could have been a newly discovered continent, it felt so good. However, as he stared into the purple-ish goo that he had expelled from his lungs, he became increasingly aware of eyes on his back. After a few moments of frozen fear, he remembered why he was here in the first place. A man, on the edge of a train station floating in the void. He looked up.

There he stood, cowering slightly, pure white eyes staring into his own muted ones. He had on an oversized sweater stained with something blue, and hands covered with a similar shade. The man was a curious fellow, that’s for sure, but Jimmy had already known that. All that struggling through limbo to get to him had pretty much cemented the image in his mind. (Not to mention all of the other curious fellows he had known in his… life.)

After a minute of staring at each other, the man finally spoke, “Who are you?” he asked, his voice was airy and slightly echoey, which would have been weird if Jimmy wasn’t dead.

He thought for a moment, wondering which of his many names would be the best introduction in this inky world. Not Jimmy, no, that might remind him of Scott. (Just the thought of his husband tore an aching hole in his heart.) And not Timmy either, that brought back memories of Grian…

“I’m Ghostbur by the way,” Jimmy looked up, eyes widening slightly at the abrupt speaking. The man didn’t seem to mind though, “In case you didn’t want to go first,”

Jimmy smiled at this, Ghostbur seemed to be a wonderful man, even if he did find it a little odd that he didn’t seem at all disturbed by his entrance to the room. It had been rather odd.

“I’m Solidarity,” He finally said, his voice sounding stronger compared to Ghostbur’s, despite the slight croak in it from not speaking for so long. (Not to mention the drowning.)

“Solidarity? That’s a nice name,” The man smiled slightly at him, his voice and movements seeming to blur around the edges as he walked to a different tile. How strange. It reminded him of how he had been back on his last server, how, instead of having bloodlust, he had begun to crumble away. It wasn’t a memory he liked to think about.

“Thank you,” Jimmy finally said, pausing for a moment before quickly adding, “I find your name quite nice as well,” He felt awkward in the conversation. It had been so long since he had talked to someone.

“Thank you!” Ghostbur replied, happily spinning around once, a drop of the blue stuff falling off his hand onto the floor as he did, “It’s ‘Wilbur’ bur with ‘Ghost’ instead of ‘Will’,” here he suddenly became serious, though the same airly tone was kept, “But please don’t call me Wilbur, I am not him,”

Solidarity nodded, not quite understanding the request but knowing that it was important to follow such things. Who knows? Maybe this ‘Wilbur’ guy had done some really bad things that Ghostbur had gotten blamed for. It didn’t seem very likely, but who’s to say that it wasn’t true?

They stood there for a moment longer, Ghostbur humming to himself quietly, eyes closed as if he was imagining that he was someplace else. Jimmy cocked his head to the side, trying to get up the courage to ask something. What that ‘something’ was was still a work in progress though. Maybe he could ask about the weird visions he had gotten as he tried to get here, maybe ask about the blue stuff that occasionally dripped onto the floor. Maybe Jimmy could even ask if this man knew where they were, or about the train that had dropped him off. It was worth trying.

But before he got too, Ghostbur spoke again. His voice rang across the concrete floor, almost as if there was a large room that surrounded only him. “You have very nice eyes Mr. Solidarity,” he said, “They are a very pretty blue,”

Jimmy smiled weakly at that, “They used to be more so, but... something happened,” of course, he wasn’t going to share what that something was, drowning wasn’t a very fun topic for small talk.

Luckily for him though, the man didn’t press, “I find them very nice,” he said matter-a-factly, “Much better than all of this red,” he shuddered and shut his eyes, the light from them extinguished like a communicator band being shut off. But that disappearance of the whiteness wasn’t that important, especially when held up to what Ghostbur had just said. Red? What red? Solidarity looked around and saw none. Only the blackness of the void and the flat grey of the tiles beneath their feet.

“But you are here!” Ghostbur suddenly said, looking up very quickly as he did, "And you wear blue clothes, and have blue eyes, and slightly blue skin!” The man laughed softly at his luck. Jimmy however, cringed back, yes his skin was slightly blue now, but that was because of his… deaths. (Drowneds tended to have at least slightly blue skin.)

...But what Ghostbur was saying hadn’t been meant to be rude, so Jimmy just ignored the slight pain in his lungs at the memories and laughed along with the other man. (Who, by the way, seemed delighted to finally be distracted by whatever he saw around them. By now Solidarity had guessed it was much different than his own view. Though what that entailed was entirely up for debate.)

“It’s great to have another person here!” The man’s voice cracked at the end of his sentence, but instead of sounding funny or endearing, it sounded like he was trying to keep Jimmy here. Like a small animal searching for a parent. Something that Jimmy could wholeheartedly relate to, despite how sad it may be.

But he wasn’t longing for a parent or friend, he was crying for Scott, and he had a feeling that this Ghostbur wasn’t looking for a family member either. . . . Though he had never been great at interpreting things so he could be wrong.

“It is great to have another person here. I was floating in that void for so long you wouldn’t believe,” Solidarity grimaced, the thought of it reminding him of the icky slime choking him. Painful and disgusting, two of the things you hoped you wouldn’t run into after death.

“Void?” Ghostbur innocently asked, prompting Solidarity to look up at the other man in confusion. He had guessed that he had been seeing things differently than Ghostbur, but he had been thinking like… a shift in color. Not a whole different place.

He nodded slowly, eyes locked on Ghostbur’s. The glowing white of them was unyielding of any emotion, “Yeah the void,” he turned and gestured vaguely towards the inky blackness behind him, “Where I came from?” he looked back to see that Ghostbur had cocked his head to the side. Confusion now painted on his face.

“Mr. Solidarity, that's a wall,” he said softly, “A wall that opened into a door that you climbed out of,” his voice shook a bit more than it had previously, Jimmy frowned at this, the motion only deepening when Ghostbur continued, “The door is gone now, but you definitely did come out of one,”

Solidarity shook his head slowly, eyes kept on Ghostbur’s the whole time, “Ghostbur I swear that I’m seeing blank blackness out there,” he turned to look at the ‘blank blackness’ and stared into it. Yep, that was definitely not a wall. He looked back at Ghostbur in time for the man to speak.

“I see a concrete wall,” he spoke quietly and uncertainly, as if he was suddenly not so sure of it himself, “A concrete wall with windows filled with red,” his voice broke upon mentioning the color, and Jimmy suddenly realised what the man had meant by the, ‘much better than all this red,’ earlier.

“Ah well, maybe one of us is wrong,” Jimmy quickly said, taking a step forward and attempting to set his hand on Ghostbur’s shoulder, but to his surprise, it went right through him. It wasn’t like there was nothing there really, more like a really warm summer day, one where you could have sworn that you were underwater.

They both stared at each other for a moment, but the slightly shocked silence was broken when Ghostbur continued their conversation. “I hope that I’m wrong,” he whispered, taking a step back and causing another drop of the blue stuff to hit the ground. It landed in the crack between two tiles, and spread out accordingly, but Solidarity saw none of this, only thinking about his hand going right through the man. Ghostbur, that was his name, but could he really be… well, a ghost? Jimmy was dead, so maybe this guy was as well?

Jimmy turned and stared at the void behind him, the blackness causing strange patterns in his vision the more he stared at it. He wondered if that was his eyes being bad again or just a trick of the light, either way, it did nothing to comfort the growing worry in his stomach. If this ghost had pulled into this place, could it be possible to get out? Maybe Jimmy could see Scott again.

He looked back at Ghostbur, not at all surprised to see the man standing right where he had been left, shaking slightly and looking about the platform. His eyes reflected a reddish color that Jimmy could not see coming from anywhere else. This saddened him, maybe the color that seemed to scare him so much was really all around him. It was comparable to his swim through the darkness, the sludge filling his lungs and drowning out both his own sounds and everything else's. (Not to mention drowning him.)

“Hey-” he started, taking a deep breath before continuing, “Ghostbur, why is it that you are… here?” he tried, cringing inwardly at the question he had asked, a feeling only magnified by the ghost’s reaction to it. He looked directly into Jimmy’s eyes, sadness visible in the glowing white things even without an iris or pupil to help them.

“I was… killed by someone,” he sniffled angrily, voice shaking violently the longer the sentence went on, “I thought it was going to be oka-y,” he cried, voice echoing around the area while still sounding as non-threatening as it had from the start.

“It’s alright-” Solidarity started, stepping forwards and just barely stopping himself from putting his hand on the other’s shoulder, “I was, um, murdered as well,” he scratched the back of his head, “... so I understand what your going through,”

Ghostbur nodded and inhaled shakily (yet ever so bravely), “Thank you Mr. Solidarity,” he looked to the ground, glowing eyes half-closed and full of tears, “It means a lot that you are here,” he paused for a moment, as if trying to think of what to say, “Thank you for being my friend,” he finally finished, looking up to look at the drowned man.

Jimmy simply nodded, glad to see that the crying seemed to be over, “Thank you for being my friend too,” He smiled, “It’s been so long since I had someone to talk to,”

Ghostbur nodded back at him, his airy laugh filling the void with a warmth that wouldn’t normally be expected of such a place. It was calming, and Jimmy was truly glad he was here. A ghost and a drowned, an unlikely, but hopefully long-lasting friendship.

-- - - - -

It had been many uncountable days sitting there, oncationaly comforting his new ghost friend (or the other way around), staring into the blackness and discussing what was seen there (a wall apparently), or even sharing past stories. Ghostbur talked fondly of a blue sheep he had known while he was alive, and Jimmy was happily able to discuss fun stories from X-Life. (Because the wounds were less fresh than 3rd Life.) Ghostbur took delight in the tales of Jeremyism and the Coven, and always had something cryptic to add about his own past. It was nice, but it sure wasn’t comfortable, for, whenever you think about happy memories, painful ones pop up.

That was how they had ended up in this position. Ghostbur leaned on Jimmy’s shoulder (Because he couldn’t lean on him) while both of them thought about sad things. Ghostbur would occasionally sniffle and wipe his face with his arms. But the rising steam off his tears didn’t shock Solidarity anymore, it had become normal. He supposed that was what happened when you were dead and didn’t have anything to do.

Jimmy leaned back, shifting a bit more weight to his arms, and sighed. He felt Ghostbur adjust his potion slightly to follow the movement, the Ghost’s arms were wrapped around him and occasionally clipping just a centimeter or two into his sides.

“What is it?” Asked Ghostbur, his friend’s voice was shaky and brave, as if he was struggling to hold back his tears, which, of course, he was.

Jimmy sighed again before speaking, not really caring that the sound was getting repetitive, there were only the two of them here anyway. “I was just thinking about someone that I miss,” He turned to look at Ghostbur, the man’s white eyes blurring around the edges with burning tears, “I’m sure you have people like that,”

For a moment Ghostbur didn’t move and Solidarity regretted his phrasing, but before he could apologize, his friend spoke. “I do miss many people,” he whispered, “Tommy, Ranboo, Friend,” he sighed, the sound a direct contrast to the recent two Jimmy had just made. Instead of being loud and sudden, it seemed to blend in with the nothingness around the two. Though both seemed just as hopeless as the other. (Maybe that’s just what happened when you were stuck in limbo without your loved ones.)

It was a moment before either continued the conversation, instead choosing to rest in each other’s company. Sure they may not have their traditional loved-ones, but at least they had a friend.

“You’ve talked about them right?” Jimmy whispered, staring off into the blank space that surrounded the platform. (Even if he appeared to be staring at a wall from Ghostbur’s perspective.)

“I have,” the man replied simply. He sounded slightly hopeful, but Jimmy really didn’t know why.

“Were they good friends?” he tried

Ghostbur smiled and clipped a little further into his ribs, “Yes they were good friends,” he paused for a moment before finishing off his statement, “For the most part anyway,”

Jimmy nodded and tried his best to not attempt to hug Ghostbur back. You see, the ghost could touch him, but he could not do the same if that makes sense. It was the intent of the movements. If Ghostbur wanted to shake his hand, they could, as long as Jimmy didn’t shake his hand back. (Because if he did his hand would go right through the other’s.) But he did really want to hug Ghostbur sometimes, as a lot of friends do.

“Not all of my friends were always nice to me,” he comforted Ghostbur, hoping that the words would work in place of a hug. As Ghostbur lessened his grip and smiled at him however, Jimmy’s thoughts were plunged into darkness. Memories of two of the nations he had lived in in the past, X Life and 3rd Life, filled his brain. Scott, Tango, Skizz, even Joel. How could any of them have done that stuff? He forgave Scott of course, as the poor man was his husband after all, but all the others? He wasn’t so sure about them.

He was pulled out of his thoughts by Ghostbur speaking, the ghost’s airy voice blowing away the negative emotions he had been feeling a moment before. “You are very kind Mr. Solidarity,” he said, “And, I know I say this a lot, but I am glad to have you,” The words were so genuine that Solidarity couldn’t help but smile.

“That's great to hear man,” he whispered, “I love you too,” and, when Ghostbur looked at him oddly, Jimmy simply laughed. “As a friend! As a friend,” here he looked at the aforementioned friend and paused for a moment, “Do friends ever say where you are from?”

Ghostbur thought about this for a moment, really pondering the fact apparently, because it was a full 10 seconds before he spoke. (Jimmy counted.) “Yes they did, but,” here the ghost blushed a blue that would have calmed him down if he could see it, “Not many people really said it to me,”

Jimmy sighed and wished for the second time that conversation to just be a ghost, and not a drowned, so he could hug the poor man. “You deserve people saying they love you, don’t ever let anyone say otherwise,”

Ghostbur smiled that soft smile of his and laughed, the sound echoing around the train station that Jimmy could not see. “Don’t worry Mr. Solidarity, I don’t think there is anyone else here to tell me that,” and, though it was a joke, the words made the drowned sad, he laughed along with Ghostbur (because it truly was a funny joke) but inside he was worried. Why were they the only ones here? If this was an afterlife, why weren’t the other people on 3rd life here? He knew he was the first to die in that nation, but surely others had died by now . . . right? Suddenly his heart sank, unless everyone had been released from the spell when he had died.

If that was truly the case, why had the rules of the land been worded that way? And, as an even worse thought, if it wasn’t the case, where was everyone? He scanned the void around for any signs of life, hoping the whole time that Ghostbur didn’t notice his worry. The last thing he wanted was for his only friend here to see him upset. (Sure it had happened many times before, but it was so awful every time.) But no, no more chunks of land in the sky were found. Maybe they were still spiraling through it, possibly with the sense of burning or being struck with arrows? How was he to know their deaths, he had gone first.

Unfortunately for him, Ghostbur’s innocent voice interrupted his thinking, “Are you alright?” he asked, sounding very concerned and decently curious. Both good things if you are looking for comfort, but not so good if you want to bury the emotions and never have them be found.

He looked at the other man, eyes taking just a moment to focus on his friend’s face. Friendly void like eyes with grey-ish hair, he couldn’t name a better duo. (Well he could, but thinking about himself and Scott made him sad.)

“Uh yeah, I’m fine,” he said, hoping to Prime, Jeremy, or any other god out there (maybe even Kristen) that Ghostbur couldn’t tell he was lying. However, they must not have heard him, because a moment later his friend shook his head and frowned at him.

“I can tell when you are lying about something,” the friendly ghost chided him, “and after all that cheering up you keep making me do, I want to help you!”

That was a sweet gesture, but oh it came at such a bad time.

“No really! I’m doing good-” Jimmy started, but he was put to a stop by the other man standing up and grabbing his hand. He could have just pulled away, but he was rather curious now.

“Come,” Ghostbur said simply, leading him away from their spot. As he was dragged forwards, Jimmy smiled slightly at the blue stain spreading to his own fingers, that wasn’t going to come out any time soon. It would eventually fade (As the two had discovered by the puddles of blue about the station disappearing.) but it would take a while. It never seemed to fade from Ghostbur though, he wondered why that was…

“Here!” Ghostbur said happily, pushing Jimmy forwards and what he guessed was some sort of wall. (He couldn’t see it though.)

He looked at his friend in confusion, gesturing to the space in front of him and shrugging. When Ghostbur looked at him with the same expression that Jimmy had, the drowned explained. “I can’t see what’s here, it’s all just void to me,”

Ghostbur frowned at this, eyes narrowing in thought as he did. “He must be thinking about how to show whatever it is to me,” Jimmy thought, “It must be really important then,”

After just a moment Ghostbur seemed to come to a conclusion, carefully stepping up to the edge on the platform and standing on his tiptoes. Jimmy bit his lip, even though he knew that Ghostbur saw a wall there (And for him there really was one, Jimmy had seen him climb it before.) he was still worried. He didn’t want his friend to fall into the void.

He looked away as Ghostbur seemed to teeter on the edge, arms reached up as if to grab something. He was too afraid to check what was going on. RIP! Solidarity looked up, suddenly extremely confused what that sound had been. What he saw however, shocked him.

Ghostbur was standing in the same place as before, but in his hands was some sort of poster style advertisement. It was missing the very top corner of it, and Jimmy guessed that that was what had made the ripping noise. However, he had never been so happy to see such a damaged piece of art.

“Do you like it?” Asked Ghostbur expectantly, handing him the poster with his blue-stained hands. All Jimmy could do was nod, taking the picture and holding it close to him. Sure, it was monochromatic red, and stained with blue from the hands of his friend, but it was a picture of someone he loved dearly. Scott.

After a few moments of stunned silence, Jimmy managed to get a word out, hugging the advertisement to his chest as he spoke, he said, “How do you have this?” His voice sounded weak even to him, it was in stark contrast to his normal tone, which opted to sound strong and confident. But, neither was bad.

Ghostbur laughed, hugging his friend in what could only be described as a pounce. “It was on the wall! Along with several other advertisements for other things that I know. El Rapids, the Egg, things like that,” the ghost pulled back out of the hug, giving Jimmy more room to look at his new favorite thing, “MCC fits in right with them,” he finished. He sounded truly proud of himself, though his voice still echoed around the edges, it was a nice change.

“Thank you so much, how can I-?” Jimmy stared, looking up from the photo of his husband and back into his friend’s face as he was shushed.

“You don’t have to do anything! I just wanted to cheer you up,” the ghost grinned, hands still strongly held on Solidarity’s arms. It was a friendly gesture, and since it only slightly hindered his ability to see the paper, he didn’t ask his friend to stop.

After a moment of happy silence, Jimmy spoke, and, though his voice shook as he did, it was purely joyful. “You certainly cheered me up,” he smiled, turning to his friend with eyes full of newfound appreciation.

Ghostbur only laughed.

-- - - - -

Since that last memory, Ghostbur had become more vocal about the train station around them. (Or just him? Jimmy couldn’t really tell.) He explained the staircase that was closed and unclimbable, and was impressed when Jimmy guessed that it was that way because it was off the platform he could see. Ghostbur expressed his distaste for the lights above, apparently, they were a very bright and uncomfortable red. Solidarity expressed his pity for his friend and was sure to try to comfort him. The ghost thanked him profusely and explained that it was starting to hurt less now that they had been here for more than two months. This confused Jimmy, both because he couldn’t believe it had been that long and because he couldn’t believe it hadn’t been longer (not even mentioning how he didn’t have a guess how Ghostbur knew that), but he didn’t say anything.

Or at least, for a while the lights were getting better.

Ghostbur consistently complained about cracks in his vision, in a normal situation, Jimmy would have found this to be nothing to worry about. Sunlight causes vision to wig out, that’s just a known fact, but that didn’t quite explain what was happening with his friend. Probably because, well, there wasn’t really any sun here, and though darkness would also cause sight to mess with itself, Ghostbur wasn’t exactly surrounded by the same void that JImmy was.

“Are you okay?” he finally asked, putting a stop to his friend’s frantic rambling in a way that he hoped wasn’t too harsh. He knew it wasn’t always a good idea to interpret someone while they talked about something important to them. (This was known for many reasons, but a big one for Jimmy was how when, back on Evo of course, Grian was excitedly explaining the best ways to prank people and was rudely interrupted. It wouldn’t normally be a problem to make someone shut up if they were talking about the best way to kill you, but Grian was a different breed. His whole house had been full of traps the next time he had stepped into it. Oh what a time.) But, back in the present, he did know that he deserved to be worried if his only accessible friend was having health problems.

Ghostbur sighed, burying his head in his knees and nodding into them. “I’m fine Mr. Solidarity,” he finally said, “My eyes just hurt a little bit,” (In the last few words his voice escalated in an octave and gained some echo, both of which made Jimmy think that maybe he wasn’t so fine.)

“Are you sure-?” he started, cutting himself off when he accidentally sent his hand through his friend’s shoulder trying to pat him on it.

Ghostbur stifled a laugh and pushed his hand away, “I’ll be fine, things are just feeling a bit bright again,” Jimmy would have accepted that answer had it not been for the slight shaking in the other man’s voice, as it was, the only person he could talk to was this guy, and if he got hurt, well, Jimmy would be plagued with non-ending worry.

He didn’t act on his thoughts though, opting instead to stare into the void with a concerned look in his eyes. It was easier to think if you had the right emotion for the job that was for sure.

But instead of instantly knowing what to do, he was instead plagued with thoughts of all the things that could be going wrong. Was Ghostbur melting away? It seemed unlikely, but he supposed that since he didn’t know how this limbo thing worked, it could work like that. Or maybe Ghostbur was going blind? That wasn’t necessarily a bad option, because he knew that people could still live wonderful fulfilling lives while being blind, but it did take some getting used to. Or- no wait, why was he doing this? Ghostbur could have simply strained his eye for all he knew, he didn’t have access to every emotion he felt. . . .but something in the back of his mind still told him to help.

-and that’s when he got it. The perfect plan.

“What are you doing?” Ghostbur asked, his voice a rather well mixed mash of curiosity, confusion and pain. But Jimmy couldn’t really argue with them, as they all fit the situation perfectly.

“I’m just tearing a bit of fabric off my sleeve,” he answered casually, doing just as he said.

He felt Ghostbur stare at him for a few moments, those pure white eyes boring right through his body the whole time. “But…” He could almost hear Ghostbur blushing as he paused, “Isn't that going to be permanent…? We don’t have a needle or any thread,”

Now it was Jimmy’s turn to flush as his friend’s confused and echoey voice told him things he already knew. “Well I thought that maybe if your eyes hurt it was a good idea to rest them,” he admitted, finishing off the strip of fabric with a satisfying ripping noise as he finished speaking, “So I’m making you an eye mask,”

Ghostbur emited a sound that could have been either one of appreciation or worry. Jimmy hoped it was the earlier option.

“That is very nice of you,” the ghost whispered, and, as Jimmy saw when he looked back at him, closed his eyes and stuffed his head into his sweatshirt. Probably hoping to get some of that ‘rest’ that Jimmy had mentioned earlier.

But he continued to work, checking the fabric for gross looking sections as he went. (Being undead, he had some rotting patches of skin and truth be told, he didn’t really want any of that getting into Ghostbur’s already hurting eyes.) Once that task was done, Solidarity sighed and leaned back on the concrete floor, searching the empty platform for things to make the eye mask look better. Of course he found nothing.

Was the gift done? He wanted to be absolutely sure that this was what his friend deserved. (Which was the best of course.) He didn’t think it was done, but there wasn’t much more he could really do with it. He could probably pull one of the flowers out of his hair to decorate it with, but the two dead men had already figured out that flowers followed in their footsteps when unattached from Jimmy. It was a blessing and a curse really. Having such nice plants right there but not being able to remove them (even to see them) for fear they would be gone forever.

He supposed that the gift must be done if he couldn’t do anything more with it. He looked sadly down at the new torn patch in his sleeve, hopefully Ghostbur would like this eye mask, blindfold thing, because if he didn’t Jimmy would have just torn away part of his sleeve for no reason.

He waited as long as he could, listening to the soft breathing of his sleeping friend the whole time. (Apparently it was effective to sleep with your head shoved into your sweatshirt, who knew.) But after a few minutes of fidgeting, he decided he couldn’t stand it anymore.

“Ghostbur?” he asked, tapping the concrete floor as loudly as he dared, “I think I’m done with the thing,”

Instead of waking up however, Ghostbur simply rolled over, his face slipping out of his sweatshirt and coming to meet the floor instead. His nose came to a rest right over the edge of the border between two tiles. It was almost as if it was made for exactly this situation, that made Jimmy laugh, maybe he should let him rest a bit longer.

He laid back down, though he was unsure of when he had sat back up really, must have happened while he was thinking. The floor was just as uncomfortable and cold as it always was, but as he flattened against it he realised how tired he was, and, closing his eyes, he dipped into sleep.

He dreamed.

He dreamed that he was back in life, but it was a strange sort of life. Many friends he had known were there, and though not all of them made sense to be in that same place (Netty and Lizzy for example,) one stood out past any others. Among all the evolutionists, X lifers, and 3rd lifers there stood one ghost. One ghost among the undead and unknown.

“Hello Mr. Solidarity!” his friend happily called, “I’m so happy to meet all your friends!” Jimmy noticed that his voice was unnaturally strong for him, but he didn’t mind it, instead choosing to indulge in this fantasy of a dream.

“Hey Ghostbur,” he smiled, reaching out to shake hands with his friend, and not questioning when he was able to initiate the touch, “What’s going on over on the Dream SMP?”

Ghostbur pouted and shook his head, “The trains keep pulling into the station,”

If Solidarity had heard such a thing in normal life, he would have questioned why it had been said, however, because this was a dream, he didn’t think twice, instead shaking his head understandingly. “That really stinks man,” he closed his eyes and threw his head back to the sky, “Who’s driving them this time?” It was nonsensical words, but a small bit of logic in the back of his head told him that maybe it was important.

Reacting as if his subconscious was correct, Ghostbur looked from side to side, almost as if he was trying to see if anyone was listening in on their conversation, before he continued. “It’s been Dream most times, but the other day I saw a bunch of blue lambs in the driver's seat instead,”

Jimmy laughed as Ghostbur did, the former serious state of the conversation evaporating as his knowledge of his dreaming state did. Now it was just a fun little brain story, as a lot of things are.

“Say, Ghostbur,” he started, a giddy smile plastered on his face as he spoke, “Have you seen Scott around here?” (If Jimmy was still even a little awake he would have remembered that the dream had placed his husband right beside him, but he was fully asleep by now.)

Ghostbur shook his head, shrugging even as his smile refused to waver, “I have not seen him,” Suddenly, a cold feeling filled the air. Solidarity looked up in fear as Ghostbur put a hand on his chest. “Why don’t you go see him?” The smile twisted as his hand pushed right through him, and pain shot through his body as blankness filled his vision.

Jimmy woke in a cold sweat, sitting up faster than was really necessary as he did. What the heck was that?! A weird dream that’s what. He looked down at his hand, breathing slowing to a more normal pace as he stared at the object there. Ghostbur was absolutely correct, blue could calm a person down. He stared for a moment, evening his breaths and trying to figure out what in the world he had been thinking about a moment before. But, as all dreams do, it was gone in seconds.

He turned to Ghostbur and was happy to see his friend laying half asleep next to him, eyes open halfway and reflecting the red they always did. He looked so tired and Solidarity found it funny, he usually woke up rather fast, but it had already been proven many times that Ghostbur was not like him in that regard. Sure, they may both be dead, but they sure as heck don’t wake up at the same speed.

They stayed that way for a few moments, only stopping when Ghostbur turned to him and yawned, which was so funny that Jimmy simply had to laugh. Ghostbur’s sleepy blinking as he tried to figure out what was so funny acted only as fuel to the fire that was Jimmy’s amusement.

Eventually however, he managed to calm down, taking the chance to hand Ghostbur the piece of fabric and explain what it was for, “This is supposed to be an eye mask,” he started, gesturing at the object now clutched in his friend’s grasp, “You put it over your eyes to block out light. I thought that you might like having something blue to hide all that red,”

It took a moment for Ghostbur to react, but once he did, he was very thankful. Instantly tying the thing around his head and gasping with joy.

“It works!” he yelped, his voice sounding even more echoey than it normally did. (Thanks to his tiredness Jimmy guessed.) “Thank you so much!” He smiled an eyeless smile at his friend, “I am glad that I have this,”

“You’re welcome,” Solidarity grinned, “I’m glad it does,” They sat that way for a moment, Ghostbur happily humming to himself as he stared into the blue fabric. However, Solidarity instantly found it in him to speak again, “But do you want to uh.. See anything?” he gestured around himself before remembering that Ghostbur probably couldn’t tell he was doing it, “There’s the void right over there,”

Ghostbur laughed an echoey laugh and shook his head, “I can’t fall into it remember? Plus, there isn't really that much around to look at,”

He couldn’t argue with that.

-- - - - -

Jimmy had grown to like this new home, and (with the help of his fabric piece) Ghostbur had too. They had figured out how to make it comfortable, however, there was no way to deny that it was still limbo. It had been so long since Jimmy had been in the void that he hardly remembered what it felt like, so sometimes he longed for that feeling again, but every time those sorts of thoughts appeared, the happiness in that empty station brought him back. It was so nice, him and a good friend, two people able to bond over shared experiences despite not knowing each other in life. The causal energy of that sort of thing was nothing less than a breeding ground for laziness, and he was glad for it.

But it was in the moments lazing around the platform (staring at his MCC advertisement and being hugged by Ghostbur that is) that he noticed something. Something… new.

He sat up, causing Ghostbur’s arms to pass right through his chest and his shoes to make an awful squeaking noise against the concrete floor, and stared into the void. What he saw there was nothing short of a shock.

There, nestled against the blanketing blackness of nothingness, sat a place he knew. A welcomingly sunny valley with a beautifully built home and a lake that spilled into nothing. But most importantly, he could see movement. Specifically flowers wavering in the wind and a blurry person making their way across the clearing. Could it be?

“What is it?” Ghostbur asked curiously, standing slowly as he removed the makeshift blindfold to get a better look at whatever it was. But instead of cocking his head to the side and complaining about the walls and red lights, he blinked a few times before gasping.

“Can you see it?” Solidarity asked, breathlessly making his way to the edge of the platform. When no response came, he wondered if his friend had responded with a nod or a shake of his head, and he was tempted to look back, but only for a moment. His eyes were too glued to the island to worry about such a thing. (Not that Ghostbur’s input was unimportant, there were just a few more important things happening. Not even including the speeding beating of his heart and the hope spreading through his soul.)

But as Jimmy stood on his tiptoes on the edge of the station, Ghostbur’s response came. “Is this what you’ve been seeing all this time?” He whispered, “It’s beautiful…”

Jimmy turned to his friend, “I don’t know what you are seeing, but if it’s blackness with no stars, then yes,” (He found that paying attention to the person you have spent nearly three months with was sort of important, you don’t want them to leave do you?)

Ghostbur slowly shook his head, happy looking tears spilling down his face and causing wisps of smoke to float off into nothingness. “No,” he choked, “There's something out there,” he gestured to the void, “Out there in all that darkness, there is something bright and blue,”

Solidarity turned back to what he was talking about, happy to see that it was still there. “Well,” he smiled, “That’s a new addition,”

They stood there for a moment, poster and chunk of fabric forgotten on the floor behind them, there was simply something better now. It was a nice moment, a drowned and his ghost friend standing on the edge of everything they could ever want, but it was so far away, how would they get to it? He started at the thought, was that what he wanted to do? Abandon the life he had found here in favor of chasing what might be a lie? It only took a few moments of thinking for him to determine that if he were to leave this station, he would be bringing Ghostbur with him, like it or not. …but how would he do that?

“What are you thinking about?” Ghostbur asked, his voice still full of disbelief and joy, despite the genuine question he had just asked.

“Home,” Jimmy said breathlessly, despite not turning back around to Ghostbur (He could not tear his eyes away this time.), he could hear his friend respond to the word. He didn’t speak or anything, but only gasped, probably recognising the far away island from the stories he had been told.

They stood there a bit longer, but this time was cut short when a loud sound rocked the station. Instantly, both men looked at each other and then the floor around them. Terror filled Jimmy’s heart as he snatched up his picture of Scott, Ghostbur instantly following in his footsteps and picking up his fabric piece. They had talked about what would happen if bad things happened to their land, but of course, with a loud noise, there were two main options they had thought up. One, a train pulling up to take them out of the station (or someone else in), or, worse really, the land itself crumbling, and well, judging by quickly spreading cracks in the floor, it was the latter.

“Ghostbur!” Jimmy shouted, his heart beating a million miles per hour, “Grab my hand!” His friend quickly reached out and did so. They locked eyes, fear coursing through both of them.

“I really hope this works,” Ghostbur whispered, and, as cracks formed below their feet, Jimmy nodded. He braced himself for just a moment, and only when a bit of the floor fell away did he jump back, back into the suffocating void of nothingness.

They floated in place for a moment, Ghostbur looking relieved when they didn’t instantly fall, but the hopeful expression was quickly gone when he realised that he couldn’t get air in. He looked at Jimmy panic spreading across his face as he clawed at his throat, the bit of blue fabric still clutched in between his fingers. Jimmy simply nodded, himself feeling the effect of the air deprivation, but he was so shocked with the feeling of being there, in true limbo, that he forgot to get them out.

Ghostbur seemed to realise that Jimmy was frozen but after a few moments of struggling against the inky darkness he realised he could not move them. Terror was on his face as the blue stuff began to soak his chest, he clawed at Jimmy, shaking him as best he could in the antigravity, which of course wasn’t that great. ...which didn’t matter all that much, because Solidarity thankfully remembered what was happening and began to struggle against the current of the void.

It was like he was drowning again, burning pain filling his body as he did everything in his power to keep his mouth shut. (Because if he didn’t it would just hurt more.) It had been… so long, since he had been here, that he had nearly forgotten how to maneuver in it, and thanks to Ghostbur’s extra weight, and the poster in his hands, it was even more difficult than it needed to be.

But still he struggled, fought against the weight, kicking his legs and hard as he could, willing himself to move, really anything that would work, and, eventually, they began to move. He hugged Ghostbur to his chest, trying to tell the poor ghost that they would get there soon, just to please, please hold on. They began to really move now, and he was hurtling through space again, the familiar feeling of panic amplified now that he had a friend to worry about, as far as he knew Ghostbur might not be able to survive this.

They moved along, Ghostbur’s body shaking as he lost every last bit of oxygen, trying to hold on just a bit longer-

They were almost there, one kick…

Two kicks.

Three kicks. Ghostbur fell limp.

Four kicks-

Solidarity tumbled to the ground, rolling through the grass and staying there. He inhaled so shakily and violently, one could have thought he was actually dying… erm, again. But after just a few seconds of regaining sensation in his limbs, he forced himself to sit up, turning to Ghostbur’s body lying still in the flowers.

“What-!” he heard a familiar voice from behind him, and then running footsteps, but he couldn’t turn to Scott and tell him how much he missed him yet, no, he had to save his friend.

“Ghostbur!” He yelled, his voice gravely and broken, and he gasped as a bit of the dark sludge dripped out of it, splashing pathetically next to the poor ghost. He shook him, not paying attention to Scott’s fraintic gasp and questions as Solidarity tried to wake his friend up.

“Please just… just be alive!” he inhaled sharply and pressed onto Ghostbur’s chest, hoping that the movement would dislodge some of the ink.

Ghostbur coughed and sat up, narrowly avoiding Jimmy’s forehead on the way. He was shaking violently, shivering and gasping for air as blackness poured from his mouth only resting as it mixed with the blue soaking his body.

“Oh my go-” Scott cut himself off, running forwards and pushing Jimmy out of the way to properly reach the injured ghost. As his husband lay in the grass, Scott began to ask Ghostbur questions. Things like, “How are you here?!”, “What happened to your sweatshirt?”, and most importantly, “Are you okay?”

He wanted to ask Scott why he wasn’t asking him if he was okay, but Jimmy knew this was important, so he stayed right where he was, staring at the sky, which was somehow blue again.

Any worry he had evaporated when Ghostbur spoke, his voice still as echoey as ever, despite the clear lack of a station around them. “I’m okay,” he said shakily, before turning to look at Jimmy, and obviously worried, he asked, “Mr. Solidarity, are you okay?”

Jimmy nodded, feeling tears drip down the sides of his face as he did, “Yeah I’m okay Ghostbur,” he slowly sat up, and, looking at his husband and his friend, he realised he never wanted this moment to end, “I’m just alright,”

-- - - - -

It had been a few weeks since they had arrived here, and Jimmy had no way to explain to himself quite how much he had missed the sun and the real stars. It was really home, beautifully decorated and exactly what they had always wanted it to be, with the uh, small addition of a little ghost friend. Apparently, Scott and WIlbur had known each other (who Wilbur was Jimmy didn’t know) and because of that bond, Scott and Ghostbur got along quite well. And of course Ghostbur and Jimmy had become great friends over the course of their existence at the train station.

Another thing Jimmy hadn’t known he would miss was real water, and the ability to get out of it when it felt icky. The first time he had gone swimming he was hesitant to get in the lake, explaining that he just didn’t trust himself in it, he would find a way to forget where he was and drown he was sure. And so Scott had gone swimming without him. (Ghostbur stating rather plainly that water burned him, and then heading off to go pick some of the flowers that scattered the grass.) But after a bit of watching Scott splash around, still in his full normal outfit, Jimmy decided that it would be fun.

When Ghostbur returned he found the two flower husbands happily sitting in the water and talking to each other. He had waited there for a moment apparently, unseen and listening to his two friends talk about random things, but had soon grown bored and told them he was there. (Which jumpscared Scott so hard he nearly flew out of the pool.) Jimmy and Ghostbur found this very funny, and decided that it was a point in any future prank war that would start.

...and start it did.

In just a month back in his home, Jimmy had decided to initiate a proper prank war, telling Ghostbur before he told Scott of course, they had gotten a lot of ideas back when it was just the two of them. … So of course they had to be a team against Scott. Everyone found it funny, and everyone found it especially funny when Scott managed to win despite being outnumbered by 50% or something.

Of course, like in all things, it was not perfect, (Every relationship, whether it be friendly or something more, argues from time to time.) but it was pretty darn close. Ghostbur had come up with the idea that when someone wanted to apologize, they would go and get the pufferfish of peace and bring it to whoever they had been arguing with. (It was working shockingly well so far, and made a use for an item that would have otherwise brought bad memories.)

Once, Ghostbur fell into the lake, but he was so quickly saved that he promised them it didn’t hurt at all. Of course they still made sure he stayed far away from the water for a long while after that. (Not because they didn’t trust him, but because they were worried for him.) After they became more relaxed on it however, Ghostbur told them, through laughter’s tears, that he had really quite liked the rule because, “Sometimes the side of things are slippery,”

And that was how they were brought to this moment, two months into being out of that awful void, sitting next to each other and watching the sunset, pure blue flower crowns rested upon their heads (Ghostbur made them.) and a pretty roof built over them… (Scott made it.) It was them that Jimmy realized, he was glad to be on the edge of the universe with these two.

#fanfic #my writing #long post if you click keep reading #i mean it #ghostbur #tw: suffocation #tw: shipping #but it's between two canonically married characters #tw: death #smajor #solidarirtygaming #3rd life smp #dsmp #mcyt #actual post #my art #drowned!jimmy

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kgraces · 3 years

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@badthingshappenbingo

Bad Things Happen Bingo Prompt: Cold-Blooded Torture

For @iwhumpyou

Read it on Ao3 here!

Who is Jason Todd?

He is: the Red Hood, a merciless crime lord, one of the world’s best marksmen, a dead man walking, a skilled assassin, a former street rat, cold-blooded, the son of Bruce Wayne, no one’s son, Batman’s greatest failure, poisoned by the Lazarus Pit, partially insane, lethal.

Robin.

More importantly, Jason Todd is alive.

Tim isn’t sure if it’s the waters of the Pit crawling through his veins, or if his anger is truly this potent, but Jason stalks closer with murderous intent, nonetheless. His hands shake; he feels the fury directed toward him as a bone-crushing weight against his chest, and his heart beats like a bird’s fluttering wings in a frantic rhythm.

“Hello little cuckoo bird,” Jason says, and his voice is a low, soft growl through the voice modulators in his helmet. He snarls, and it sounds like a feral animal is clawing against his rib cage—a predator crooning at its prey. Tim stiffens, eyes going wide behind the domino mask. He’s done research on the Red Hood, even been shuttled off to San Francisco to keep him as far away as possible, but seeing him in person—knowing it’s Jason underneath that helmet—and hearing the darkness in his tone is jarring.

“Jason,” Tim says warily. He backs up half a step, muscles tensing when Jason follows him. “Why are you here?” He has a few guesses, but stalling might give him enough time to come up with a plan.

“You’re wearing a death shroud, Replacement, and that’s an invitation,” Jason replies, voice soft and almost condescending. “One I intend to respond to in kind.”

Tim is alone in the Tower, and the comms are down. A sickening dread creeps through him, but he ignores the feeling to focus on finding a way out. Tim reaches for his bo staff, readying himself for a fight. Jason surprises him, though, by drawing a gun and shooting him in the thigh before he can even react. Tim lets out a shout, using the staff to keep himself upright. He can’t see Jason’s expression under the helmet, but the laugh rumbling from his chest is chilling.

Tim’s mind blanks, plans deserting him as he switches into a primal fight-or-flight mode. He chooses flight, crippled as he is by the injury to his leg. He stumbles a little, shaking off the pain as best he can, and runs toward the stairwell. If he can reach his room, he might be able to get a distress call out with his personal panic button. He falters at the first step, leg shrieking at him, but Tim grits his teeth and glances around, frantic. He can hear heavy footsteps behind him—close, too close.

It’s fine. He can do this.

Tim leaps, grabbing onto the rail of the landing directly across from him. He clambers up and over the railing. The door to the stairwell opens, and his breath hitches. Tim bolts down the stairs as quickly as he can with a bullet still lodged in his thigh. He hears mechanized laughter behind him, and a jolt of fear runs through his bones. Tim pushes himself to go faster. He’s almost at the bottom of the stairs now. If he can just make it to the door....

He stumbles again, falling down the last flight. He hears the snap before he feels the burn in his wrist, and he can’t stop the cry of pain. Tim picks himself up off the floor and hobbles to the door, but before he can open it, a heavy boot kicks him in the back. The bo staff clatters to the ground, and Tim crumples again. He rolls onto his side to see Jason looming over him.

Jason picks him up by the collar and drags him out of the stairwell, heading for the training room. Tim tries to lash out at him, but with one good arm against enforced body armor, he’s fighting a losing battle. Jason drops him at the mats and digs his heel into the wound on Tim’s leg, laughing again when Tim has to visibly bite back a shout.

“Don’t worry Replacement,” Jason coos. “I won’t kill you.”

The next moment, he draws a knife from his belt, and the terror returns. He’s not going to kill Tim, but Jason’s certainly not going to leave him alone until he’s bled enough. Jason leans down and cuts the R off of Tim’s uniform. He holds the scrap of fabric in his hand for a long moment before shaking his head and tossing it to the floor. The knife descends again, carving not into the tunic but rather Tim’s skin, tracing the outline of Robin’s insignia, right over Tim’s heart.

He doesn’t scream, but it’s a near thing. He blinks up at the impassive red helmet, shuddering, and Jason pauses for a moment. Tim doesn’t bother hoping he’s decided to stop, and he’s proven right when Jason merely reaches up and removes the helmet, tossing it to the floor with a loud clatter. He removes his domino mask, too, just so Tim can see just how much he’s enjoying this. Then, he kneels down and tears off Tim’s mask, for good measure.

Jason traces the knife around Tim’s eyes, outlining the mask. He drags it down, over his cheek and jaw, to press against his throat. Jason smiles at the sight of the scar he’d left the last time he slit Tim’s throat. He applies just enough pressure to draw blood, and Tim fights back a wince. He draws the knife away from Tim’s skin, smiling still, and then, he stabs him in the shoulder, twisting the blade. Tim does scream, this time, blinking back hot tears at the blinding pain.

Jason leans back on his heels and laughs.

He pulls the knife out and wipes the blood off on Tim’s tunic before he places it back in his belt. Moments later, he has two other knives, serrated and wicked-looking, and he pins down Tim’s right arm with an iron grip, clutching the broken wrist so tightly he can feel the bones grind together. He only has a moment to wonder what Jason’s going to do next before one of the blades stabs through his hand, pinning it to the floor. He repeats the same process with Tim’s left hand, leaving Tim feeling like a butterfly encased in glass.

His breathing is shallow and too fast, and Jason’s leering at him with sick glee in his eyes. Jason hums, studying his handiwork, and after a moment, he reaches for another weapon. This time, it’s Tim’s own bo staff. A tear slides down Tim’s cheek, and Jason rests his free hand on Tim’s face, gently thumbing it away. Tim hates himself for leaning into the touch. Jason’s hand drifts to his hair, pushing the dark, sweaty locks out of his eyes and combing his fingers through the strands. Tim’s eyes flutter shut, a confusing mix of comfort and horror swirling in his stomach.

The bo staff cracks down against his collarbone, and Tim screams. The next swing hits his fingers, then his left knee, the fingers on his other hand, his right ankle. Tim sobs hard, trying to keep his crying as quiet as he can. He doesn’t want to give Jason the satisfaction of breaking him, but everything hurts, and he just wants it to stop. His ribs crack, and the scream is cut off by a harsh wheeze.

He must lose time, because the next moment he’s aware of, the knife is back. Tim turns his face away and catches sight of his staff on the ground, bloodied, a dark crimson. He whimpers as the tip of the knife digs into his broken collarbone. Jason cuts a path down Tim’s arm, a swirling pattern which could’ve been beautiful on any other canvas. Tim’s broken sobs have petered out into soft whines and hitched breaths.

Jason uses his fists, next.

His torso will be a patchwork of bruises, yellows and greens and dark purples, if Tim does actually survive this ordeal. He has his doubts, at this point. Those hands wrap around his throat, constricting his airway until he sees black spots at the edges of his vision. Jason lets him go right when Tim is on the brink of passing out. Tim coughs, throat feeling like it’s been scrubbed with sandpaper after the screaming and strangling.

“Please,” he manages to croak. It’s a pathetic sound, but it’s all he can muster. “Jason, please stop. Please I-I can’t. It hurts.” He dissolves into tears, sobs painful against his broken ribs and raw throat. “I’ll do anything, Jason, please. Just stop hurting me.” He blinks up at the former Robin, tears falling freely.

“Begging?” Jason murmurs. “I’d expected better from you, Replacement.”

“J-just kill me. Make it stop.” Tim lets out a wounded noise as he shifts, aggravating the injuries he has all over his body. “Please make it stop hurting.”

That seems to catch Jason’s attention. His eyes flare a darker green, and Tim flinches instinctively.

“I’m not going to kill you,” Jason snarls. “No more dead birds. Got it?” Tim lifts his head, crying still but feeling a spark of defiance flicker to life. He lets it grow into a roaring flame before he opens his mouth.

“Does that make you feel better about yourself? It’s the only difference between you and your namesake, Red Hood.” Jason stumbles back, eyes wide. He opens his mouth, expression twisting into something Tim can’t place. He doesn’t have enough time to puzzle it out before everything goes dark.

Tim wakes up—and isn’t that a surprise?—in the medbay. Everything hurts, but he’s able to crack open an eye without further injuring himself, so that’s a win. He hears a soft gasp to his left, and he manages to tilt his head to the side. His vision is a little blurry still, but he recognizes his brother sitting at his bedside.

Dick’s eyes are red, with dark shadows pooling underneath them and a haunted look trapped in his irises. Tim offers him a weak smile, and the one he gets in return is watery.

“Hi there Timmy,” Dick says softly. He cards a hand through Tim’s hair. “How’re you feeling?”

“Decidedly not great,” Tim rasps, sounding like he’s gargled with sharp rocks. He cringes at the sound of his own voice. “Where’s Jason?”

“Here,” a familiar voice says. Tim blinks and turns his head to look across from him. Jason sits in a chair directly opposite the bed, head in his hands. He’s wearing new clothes, Tim notes. His old outfit had definitely been much bloodier. “I...wanted to make sure you woke up.”

“I thought you would’ve left me there,” Tim mutters. Jason looks up, stricken.

“I was planning on it, but...shit Tim, I’m no better than him. I don’t want to be like that. You—-you’re just a kid.”

“You knew that the whole time,” Tim says coolly. “When did it start to matter?”

“When you said it,” Jason replies, voice dropping to a near whisper. “It made it real. I saw myself, crawling across that warehouse floor, but I knew at least I had hope someone would come for me. You were begging me to kill you, and the look in your eyes, I—” He shakes his head, like he’s shaking off the bad memories. “It snapped me out of it.”

“So he called me,” Dick says, gently breaking off Jason’s train of thought. “He’d already gotten you patched up by the time I got here, but he wanted to make sure you had someone you’d feel safe with when you woke up.”

“Oh,” Tim says. “I...I’m glad I’ll at least have seen you one last time.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Robin.” His voice is a pained croak, and it’s not entirely because of the bruises wrapping around his throat. “Robin belongs to Jason, and besides, I’ve failed, right?”

“Tim, no.” Dick hushes him gently. He strokes Tim’s hair again, smiling so sadly at him it must hurt. “You won’t ever have Robin taken away from you. Not until you choose to move on, okay?”

“I can’t take it back, anyways,” Jason says with a self-deprecating laugh. “Not with the blood on my hands. Not with your blood on my hands. I’m sorry. I know it doesn’t make any of this better, but it’s true.”

“Do you want to make things better?” Tim asks. He feels the heavy pull of unconsciousness clawing at the back of his mind, but he pushes it back. This isn’t something he can afford to pass out before he says. Jason nods, expression solemn and so very hurt. His eyes seem less green.

“I don’t think I can, Tim.”

“You can,” Tim argues stubbornly. Dick’s hand in his hair is making him drowsy, but he pushes through. “I’ll ask you again. Do you want to make things better?”

“More than anything.”

“Then come home.”

#batfam #dc #jason todd #tim drake #red robin #red hood #robin #batman #batbros #titans tower au #bad things happen bingo #prompt: cold blooded torture

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strawberriescherrieskiwi · 1 year

Text

Where It all Ends

Part Six of Moment of Impact

DarkTimmy fic featuring a murderous Y/n.

Chapter Description: Life was good with your husband, but you both couldn’t move on without facing your past and finishing your plans, so you both decide to go home.

Wordcount: 9.8K+

Warning for chapter: 18+ (please no minors!!!), murder, smut, stabbing, sex with dead body in room, drug use, bloodplay, Arson, Parental Abuse, Violence, Familicide, shooting, brutal murders, child abuse, death of major character. Unedited.

Tears ran down your face as you tried to calm yourself down. Your body shook violently as you scrambled to make your way to the park. Your father wouldn’t care that you were gone, he had his fill of beating you, calling you his sweet little pea as he hit you repeatedly.

It wasn’t new for him to hit you, but the brutality of it today was too much. He came home drunk, sent the nanny away, and immediately began hitting you, your face, and your body anywhere he could get his hands on. You screamed, cried, and begged him to stop, to remind him you were his daughter and that you would be better.

Your pleas fell on deaf ears as he shouted at you, calling you a disappointment, how you should have been a son, how you killed your mother with your birth ruining his life. It felt like hours as you lay crying when he finally stopped, stumbling away.

With all the strength you had left, you made your way out of the house. The park was your only safe place, it was abandoned, all the children preferring the newer one, but this one was your favorite. Sitting on the bunch you hugged your legs to your chest, sobbing into your knees. You prayed you didn’t have any broken bones.

“Hey,” a voice said softly from the forest behind you. Startled you turned around to see a boy, 12 to 14, around your age. His hair was wavy falling in his eyes and he looked uncomfortable but determined.

He slowly took a step towards you and then you noticed the first aid kit in his hands. You looked from the kit to him again confused about what was going on. You were sure you’ve seen him around, maybe when you were allowed to go to school, but then your teachers ask too many questions and your father hired a private tutor who didn’t ask questions.

“This is sort of my happy place,” he said as he moved closer to you, sitting on the bench. “I come here all the time to get away, I mostly sit in the forest, against a tree, and daydream, sleep, read and escape,” he continued, taking out a cloth and alcohol to dab at your lip.

You winced but said nothing as you stared at him. “I’ve noticed you a few times. I’m a bit too shy to say anything and you looked as if you wanted to be alone. I notice you cry sometimes, I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.” He touched your face softly as he turned your face around to make sure he got all the cuts.

“I noticed sometimes you have bruises and cuts, so I got a kit and put it in the forest. I wanted to leave it for you, but I saw you today…” He trailed off.

You sobbed at the reminder of how broken and bruised you were. “Do you want to talk about it?” He asked, moving to put something on your bruises, “This will help you heal,” he added.

“Why are you being so nice to me,” you choked out.

He paused, his eyes flickering to yours. They were a beautiful color, you thought they were hazel, but no, a dark forest green with flicks of brown. You smiled softly when you realized, he smiled back.

“Because you don’t deserve to sit here, crying and being hurt,” he said softly. “You deserve help,” he said softly.

“Thank you, I’m y/n”

“Timothee.”

You sat in the car with your seat back and your legs on the dashboard. The music was low in the car and you looked out the window, seeing all the familiar places as you drove by causing an ache in your chest.

A hand stroked down your cheek, over your shoulder, down your arm, and stopped at taking your hand. His thumb brushed over your palm, pressing slight force so you knew he was there, that he was by your side.

Turning away from the window you smiled at Timmy. He glanced away from the road, smiling softly at you. “Are you okay?” He asked, bringing your joint hands to his mouth, kisses along your wrist.

You wanted to lie. To say you are fine, a strong impenetrable force that nothing could break through and hurt you, but Timmy would see through you, he always did. Maybe that was why you loved him, he saw how damaged you were straight to your core, but he just kissed you, held you, and drove away the fear and pain. You did the same to him, you were a matching set, feeding on each other emotions, healing each other at your lowest.

“When we met in the club. Did you remember me? From when we were children?” You asked playing with his fingers. You never were the shy or overly emotional one of you two, but you had your moments.

“Not at first. I couldn’t keep my eyes off of you the moment I saw you. I didn’t want to be out clubbing, being hit on was not something I enjoyed, but I wanted to drink and be alone. The best place to be alone is in a room full of people wishing for the same. And then I saw you, surrounded by people, but so alone but something told me you didn’t want to be alone.”

His eyes met yours again, smiling warmly. “And then you looked at me and I decided I wanted what you wanted, I needed to take care of you, I wanted you to make me feel less alone. When you came over and told me your name, I remembered. I remember the girl that cried on the bench every day, who came to see me, that didn’t cry anymore but smiled and laugh,” Timmy pulled over to the side of the road. “But one day was gone and took a part of me with her.”

Your eyes were misty, but you didn’t cry. Timmy moved across the seat, pulling you into his arms. “We don’t have to do this if it is too much for you. We can leave, yeah? We talked about leaving the country. Go to France, as we talked about selling fruit or teaching or whatever we want. Be happy. Have a family one day of our own,” he said cupping your face, wiping the tears that fall without your consent.

Timmy kissed your tears and then your lips. “My fucking Goddess it hurts my soul seeing you like that. This pain, it pisses me off. Makes me want to fucking rip apart anyone who ever hurt you,”

You chuckled, grabbing the back of his neck. “And you think I don’t want to? That’s why we are here, fuck my past and my issues. I wasn’t the only person hurting and being abused, you were too, maybe not physically, but you were still hurt. And I want nothing more than to make those that hurt you pay. Make them regret every hurting my Timmy.”

“Then we will stay, and finish the plan,” he said, kissing you.

“We make everyone regret all the hurt they caused us, then we can go to France, won’t that be an adventure,” you said, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him back.

Timmy's hands moved to your waist. “Move and have some pretty little babies with my pretty girl? There is nothing I want more, but this first and then we have the rest of our lives, not shackled to our past.”

“Just you and me. Forever, my flesh is your flesh, my blood is yours. We are made for each other, yeah?” you asked, tugging his hair.

He moaned, grinding your hips on his. “Yeah, my divine wife, my soul and heart walking outside of my body.” Timmy took your shirt off, cupping your breast, his hands on the tattoos that were there. He squeezed them roughly, ribbing your nipples between his fingers.

You moaned, arching into him. “Timmy needs your cock,” you demanded.

“It’s yours, baby, have it,” he said, helping you get rid of the rest of your clothes and his following you into the back seat. You lay back on the seat, pulling him down on you, attaching your lips.

“Please,” you begged.

Timmy grabbed his cock, rubbing it against your folds a few times before slowly thrusting inside, feeding you one inch at a time. “You never have to beg for anything from me, all of me belongs to you,” he whispered against your lips.

“And all of me belongs to you. I’m yours belong to you forever, you’re mine and I’m yours,” you sobbed out as he fucked you with long and deep thrusts. You two weren’t quick and rushing but enjoying every moment. Not one part of your bodies didn’t connect.

The car rocked and grew hot, the sound of skin slapping and your groans filled the area. You broke the kiss, sucking in a deep breath as he give a rough thrust. “Love you so much,” you gasped out, meeting his thrust, making sure your pelvis were always connected.

“Love isn’t a strong enough word for how I feel about you, baby. There is nothing I wouldn’t do for you, nothing in this world could keep me from you,” he groaned, pressing open-mouth kisses along your chest.

Your heart raced at his words. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. “Fuck right there, need your cum, Timmy.”

“And you’ll fucking get it. There is no better place for it than in your tight cunt, it was mad to take my cum wasn’t it?” He growled, picking up speed as he got lost in pleasure and making you both cum.

“Fuck, yeah my cunt was made for your cock and your cum. And you were made for me to be mine and only mine. I don’t share my Timmy, my cock, my cum,” you said possessively, digging your nails into his back.

“Shit that fucking hurt so good, hurt me more,” he groaned.

“Little pain kink whore,” you teased, digging your nails deeper and biting his shoulder.

“You fucking love it too,” he moaned, biting your nipples.

“Love it so fucking much,” you moaned as you rocked against him cumming.

“Shit shit, fucking squeeze my cock and time my cum,” he whimpered, as he shot his cum deep inside of you. “Take it take it, baby.”

You moaned, squeezing around him more, never wanting to be without his cock and his cum inside of you.

Timmy laid on top of you, grabbing your chin and kissing you. “Fuck, you feel so good, don’t want to leave you cunt,”

You chuckled, pushing his sweaty hair out of his face, kissing him back before kissing his cheeks and then nipping on his jaw. “This jaw could cut glass, how are you so beautiful,” you praised.

He flushed at your words. “You’re beautiful my goddess,” he mumbled.

“I love when you call me that,” you said, groaning as he moved to sit up, but kept you attached to him. “What are you doing?” You laughed.

“I meant it when I said I don’t want to leave your cunt,” he said, wrapping his arms around your waist, and kissing your shoulder.

You could feel your joint cum running down your leg onto his lap, but neither one of you cared as you were wrapped in each other's arms. You two were silent as you breathed each other in.

“Would you still love me if I was a worm?” You asked, teasingly, running your hands down his chest.

Timmy scoffed, his hands following yours until they met at your cunt, both shoving a finger inside of you. You groaned, your hips jumping at the addition. “That is fucking stupid if you were a worm, I would be a worm too and you’ll be my fucking wormy soulmate,” he said.

‘Wormy soulmate?” You laughed.

“Yes, don’t laugh,” he pouted, curling his finger.

You gasped, leaning forward to kiss him. “Would never laugh at my baby,” you said.

“Better not, or if we were worms, I wouldn’t date you,” he teased, pulling his finger out of you. You moaned doing the same before shoving yours into his mouth as he did the same to you.

“Timothee could you try to be less awful.” His mother asked as she looked at him in disappointment.

“Mother I am trying.”

“Are you though, it doesn’t seem like it,” she said, crinkling her nose. “I would’ve had the abortion if I knew this would be your hardest,” she sighed walking away from him.

Tears filled his eyes at her words. He was 14, and he should be used to her harsh words, used to her love for him being superficial. Only caring about him when he was doing something good and she wanted to show it off to her friends. His father was no better, only caring when he needed to talk about the company he would take over.

Neither wanted a child but thought having one was clearly the next step in being better than anyone else. The perfect man and woman needed a perfect heir to rub in everyone’s face, but no matter what he did, he was never good enough.

He closed the piano lid. He hated the stupid instrument, it did nothing but cause him misery. His instructor said he was one of the best, but he had to be lying, if he was so good his parents would be proud, instead, they were going on a trip and leaving him behind as punishment.

He reopened the piano, playing a song. One his parents wouldn’t approve of, but one that made him feel something. He ignored the tears running down his face, as he lost himself in the song until there was a shout from upstairs.

“STOP THE INCESSANT NOISE TIMOTHEE, GOODNESS YOU HAVE DONE ENOUGH,” shouted his father.

Timothee banged his hands on the piano keys before slamming the lid down on his hand. He bit his lip to keep his scream in, more tears running down his face. Quickly he got to his feet and stormed out of his house.

He made his way to the forest. He needed to get away. He thought about running away every day, he doubted they would even notice. Timmy gasped out sobs. He couldn’t breathe and he ran faster and faster until he stumbled out of the trees.

He made it to the bench, bringing his knees onto his chest and sobbing. He missed her it was crazy but he missed her, he barely knew her, but he missed her so much. The girl with the bruises on the bench, Y/n.

It’s only been two months since he first spoke to her. They snuck away all the time to see each other. They didn’t speak, just sat next to each other, enjoying each other presence.

Last week she said she was moving, her father was taking a job in the city and they were moving. He begged her not to go, not with words but with his eyes. He begged her to run away with him, but he saw the fear and knew she couldn’t. So he kissed her and she left.

Timothee sat up in bed gasping. His hands shook as he reached out for you, but you weren’t there. His panic rose and he tried to shout for you, but no words came out. Timmy clawed at his throat, as tears soaked his face.

With a towel wrapped around your body, you hummed as you walked out of the hotel bathroom until you saw your husband sobbing on the bed. You are across the room in record time, grabbing his face.

“Baby baby baby? What’s wrong? What happen?” You said in just as much of a panic. You wanted to reach for your blade on the table, but you didn’t want to take your hands off of him.

Timmy curled into your arms, wrapping his arm around your back and resting his head on your chest. You cradled his head in your arms, kissing and running your hands through his hair to calm him.

He hiccupped and shuddered against you as he tried to calm himself down. “I’m here baby right here, nothing is going to happen to you. I’m here,” you repeated.

“You’re here,” he croaked out shakily.

You cooed softly, grabbing his face and kissing him sweetly. “Baby, did you have a bad dream?” you asked.

“I thought you were gone. I was back home with them and you were gone,” he sniffed.

“It was just a dream. I’m not going anywhere.”

“I know.”

“It’s this fucking place. It’s getting to us,” you sighed.

New York used to be home, it used to feel like a place to disappear into, but it was only home because you didn’t know any better. New York had too many bad memories, too many restaurants where Grant used to hit you in the bathroom, too many clubs where you would go to drink the night away and cry.

The only good thing about New York is that is where you met Timothee; it’s where you decided to take your life into your own hands, make your own choices, and be the happiest version of yourself. But you couldn’t move on, not completely, not until you officially put all your past behind you.

“I love you,” he mumbled into your chest.

“I love you,” you replied, pushing his shoulder until he was laying on the bed. You straddled his waist, staring down at him. “So handsome, baby. So strong, remember that yeah? No one can hurt you anymore. We have each other and nothing will tear us apart,” you said, stroking the side of his face.

Timmy grasped the wrist that touched his face, biting kisses into your wrist. “Nothing will tear us apart. You’re mine, my blood, my murderous little Goddess.”

You chuckled softly, leaning down to kiss him. “Speaking of murder, shall we get going? We have a long night ahead of us.”

Timmy grinned, sitting up, and moving his hands to your waist. “Fuck yeah, get dressed and I’ll get us some more fun things for tonight.”

“Fun things?” You asked, getting off his lap and grabbing clothes.

“You’ll have to wait and see.”

“You tease me.”

“I spoil you.”

Your hands wandered over Timmy’s body, squeezing his shoulders, and waist, and working your way to his cock, when he chuckled grabbing your hands. “Baby,” he said in a warning but it only egged you on more.

You squeezed his cock, grinning at his groan and dropping the pen. “Bad girl,” he growled under his breath, turning to face you. He tugged your chin closer to his face. “ So impatient all the time,” he said, shaking his head.

“You love that about me, my impulses are your favorite,”

His other hand snaked around your waist, pulling you closer. “Not my favorite,” he whispered teasingly.

Someone clearing their throat, had you both pulling away from each other, looking at the older woman who looked ready to throw you both out of the courthouse. “Can we finish this?” She said bored.

“Sorry, I am just so excited to be married,” you said not sorry at all. You stuck your hand into his back pocket, giving his ass a squeeze as you grabbed the pen signing the marriage license.

Colorado was not a place you ever had the desire to visit, but it was the state that allowed you to get a marriage license the same day and they didn’t ask for much. Plus it was far from New York that you two felt comfortable hanging out for a few days.

You needed a honeymoon after all and you were sure you two could find something to keep you busy for a while.

She just grunted at your words. “To be love and in love,” she said, once you both signed. “Congratulations you are officially married. Enjoy it.”

You grinned jumping into his arms and kissing him repeatedly. “My husband, my husband my sweet husband,” you chanted happily.

Timmy grinned, spinning you around the room as he hugged you close. “My wife, my sweet wife. My Goddess, my Y/n,” he said, blissfully. “I have never been happier in my life.”

You smiled, cupping his face and kissing him once more. “I am the happiest I have ever been. Nothing makes me happier than being your wife,” you said.

“I’ll go get the judge and make a copy and I’ll be back,” the woman said, though neither of you paid her any attention.

Timmy eagerly kissed you, putting you on the desk. “Need to be inside of my wife right now,” he mumbled against your lips, moving his hands to your pants.

You giggled softly, moving your hands to his curls. “Timmy, she will be back soon.” Though you pulled his cock out of his pants stroking him quickly.

“Don’t care, need to consummate our marriage. It will be invalid if we don’t,” he teased.

You rolled your eyes affectionately about to say something sarcastically when he thrust into you, stealing your breath. Your eyes rolled back and you wrapped your arms around his back, pulling him closer.

“Nothing to say? Already so speechless, I’ve barely done anything,” Timmy laughed, kissing your shoulder, pulling out halfway before thrusting back in hard and fast. You moaned loudly and his hand quickly covered your mouth.

“My wife is so loud,” he giggled.

“My husband has a big cock,” you mumbled behind his hand.

Timmy chuckled again, kissing you all teeth and spit.

“I love you.”

“My wife, I love you.”

You sat in the dark living room, feeling like a cliché bad guy in a movie. It took everything in you not to laugh at the insanity of it. The lights were off but the home was just as it was when you were last here.

You were unsure how you felt that while so much had changed in your life, nothing in this room. The room that walls handle your cries of pain, the worse memories were lived here, but you felt numb to it.

A key in the lock had you turning to face the door. The door closed, and there was shuffling, and the sound of the keys dropping into that stupid cherry bowl. That bowl that he once beat you with when you forgot to take off your shoes.

You grind your teeth together at the thought, but you didn’t move. You waited for the lights to turn on and then he turned the corner. Your father looked the same as when you last saw him, maybe he had a bit less hair and gained a bit of weight, but you never paid much attention to those details.

After marrying Grant you avoided the man who all but sold you to someone else to beat you. Grant might have been horrible, but there was no one you hated more than your father.

“Father. I’m home,” you said.

He jumped slightly before narrowing his eyes at you in disgust. “What have you done to yourself? Tattoos? Are you some whore now? That figures you ran away with some murder, did he whore you out. What you came back when he got sick of you?”

You frowned, “Why must you think the worse in me?” You asked, sitting back on the chair.

“Because you are useless, worthless, and a thorn in my side.”

“Is that why you gave me to Grant?”

“Grant was a good man for you. He kept you in line.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms. “Yeah with his fist.”

“Clearly not hard enough.”

You covered your face with your hands sobbing into them. “Why do you hate me? I tried too hard to be a good daughter to, make you happy, and proud of me,” you sobbed.

He huffed, “Again with the tears. You know how I feel about tears.” You heard him walk towards you. You knew what he was going to do. Grab your hair and slap you in the face. The first time he did it, you were 4 years old. He forgot to feed you, so you went into the kitchen and tried to get something to eat. A plate full and cut your foot, you cried, he got annoyed and slapped you.

You braced for impact but it never happened. Instead, you heard a loud thump and your father screamed out. You smirked uncovering your face to see your father on the ground, hugging his shattered knee.

Timmy stood over him; His hand cocked to the side, eyes dark and void of any emotions. “And just what the fuck do you think you were about to do? You were gonna put your hands on my wife?” Timmy asked, laughing.

He bent down to your father’s level. “You know the last two men to ever hurt her died. It’s sort of my thing, killing me that thought they could hurt my girl. It’s only fitting I come here and take at the man that started it. That let her think it was okay to be hurt.”

Your heartbeat thumped loudly in your chest and you couldn’t help but love him for his words. How protective he was of you and how much he loved you. While you didn’t need him to protect you, you still appreciated it.

Standing, you made your way over the man that broke you and the one that healed you. You wrapped your arms around the latter waist. “So scary like this baby, I love it,” you said, kissing his shoulder.

His eyes soften the moment he looked at you. “Yeah like me taking charge? I’ll do it more in the bedroom,” he teased.

You grinned, pulling him down to kiss him. “Hmm, I would like that,” you said deepening the kiss.

Timmy chuckled, biting your lip, and pulling away. “Later. We are in the middle of something,” he teased, slapping your ass.

“You are a fucking whore,” your father said. “Fucking knew you would be.”

Timmy glared at him, raising the bat, but you stopped him, grabbing his arm. “May I?” You asked.

“Of course baby. You don’t even have to ask,” he said, giving you the bat.

Taking it you swing it around as you circled your father. “Your words are meaningless, worthless, and a fucking waste. You are a fucking waste. You hated your life and you took it out on me and then you gave me to that man knowing that he would hurt me. You fucking tried to break me down and ruin me. Keep me beaten and scared, but fuck you. You don’t scare me.”

You closed your eyes bringing the bat down on his hand over and over, screaming how much you aren’t afraid of him, screaming that despite his bull shit and abuse you were happy and didn’t stay that scared little girl.

A hand grip yours. The bat dropped and your turned burying your face into Timmy's chest as sobs rocked your body. “He’s died. He’s gone. He won’t hurt you or anyone else ever again,” he said, rubbing your back and cradling the back of your head.

“I don’t even know why I’m crying. I hated him, I’m happy he is dead, but fuck, I can’t stop,” you sobbed harder, clinging to Timmy’s shirt.

“He hurt you, but he was still your father. I know it was a lot coming back here and all the memories probably are hard, so much is hitting you, but it’s okay to cry,” he said, softly, comforting.

“I wish I did some coke before coming here,” you chuckled through tears. You wanted to be sober for this, but now you regretted it. You were overwhelmed, and you hugged him tighter.

Timmy dug into his pocket. “I got you covered, baby,” he said, wiping your tears before kissing over your eyes. “My sweet, brave wife. There is nothing you can do,” he said, putting some coke on his finger and holding it to your nose.

You smiled widely at him, snorting the coke. “I love you, my smart, thinking-ahead husband.” Covered in blood you held each other taking turns snorting coke until you felt like your head was going to explode.

“Should we burn the house down?” You asked as you sat with your head in Timmy’s lap. He sat against the kitchen floor, running his fingers through your bloody hair.

“Shower first, fire and go get some food, I would kill for a burger right now.”

You both were silent for a moment before giggles bubbled out of your mouths. “You have killed for a lot less,” you teased.

“No, I haven’t.”

“Remember that guy in Washington that took the last Snickers at the store? I caught you stabbing him in the bathroom.”

“He was first stealing from the store and he was snapping pictures of you, he deserves that.”

“And the Snicker had nothing to do with it?” You asked, with a raised eyebrow.

He pouted, kissing your forehead. “Maybe just a small part, but the other things were valid.”

You laughed again, causing him to laugh. “Okay let’s shower. Here right?” You asked.

“Yeah, want to fuck you in the shower here, you said it was nice right?”

Nodding, you got to your feet, pulling him up. “He spent a lot of that fucking shower, I used to sneak in there all the time.”

“Race you. The winner gets to put the other on their knees,” you teased, shoving his shoulders before taking off towards the bedroom. You didn’t even glance at the body on the floor, just forcing on running to the bathroom first.

Timmy grabbed your waist pulling you into his chest, and shoving you out of the way to get to the bathroom first.

“You fucking cheating,” you shouted, punching his shoulder. Timmy just laughed, undressing and tossing his clothes to the ground before pulling your clothes off as you pouted at him.

“Baby I will eat your pretty little cunt don’t pout,” he said, turning on the water and pulling you in with him. You stopped pouting happy with his words.

“But you cheated too. You pushed me first,” he reminded you.

“Fine, I’ll suck your cock too,” you said dropping to your knees as the water cascaded on you.

“Fuck, I was joking, but I won’t stop you,” he said, putting one hand on the wall behind you as the other gripped the back of your neck.

You licked your lips as you stroked him, though he was already rock hard. Looking up at him, you made sure to keep your eyes on him as you slide his cock past your lips, first sucking on the head tasting the pre-cum already oozing out.

“You taste so good,” you moaned, taking him deeper in his mouth, grabbing his ass, and digging your nails into his cheeks as you took him down. Your nose hit his pelvis and you flexed your throat around him.

“F-Fuck. When you do that, I want to fucking cum down your throat and die,” he groaned, thrusting his hips shallowly down your throat.

Your eyes water, but you closed your eyes holding yourself down for another minute pulling back, and taking a deep breath. Tracing your tongue along his cock, you took his balls into your mouth, sucking on them quickly while stroking him.

“Fuck murdering one person wasn’t enough, trying to tell me as well?” He teased.

“Would never,” you rasped out.

“Shit not that rasping voice,” he whined, pulling you back on his cock as he roughly fucked your face.

You moaned around him, playing with his balls as you let him use your mouth. “Gonna take me fucking cum?”

You nodded, begging for it with your eyes. His thrust quickened, and his cock pulsed before he shot his load in your mouth moaning your name, jerking his hips deeper into your mouth.

Timmy took a shuddering breath before pulling out of your mouth. A line of cum went from his cock to your lips and he cursed, rubbing his cockhead against your lips. “Fuck my darling, looks so good like this,” he whimpered.

You grinned, kissing his thighs, and each of his balls, and sucking on his head again. His hips twitched again and his soft cock hardened again. “Your turn,” he said, pulling out of your mouth.

Standing up, you leaned against the wall, placing your legs on his shoulder as he got on the ground. “Don’t drop me.”

He scoffed, “When have I dropped you?”

“Well, there was that time-

“I was drunk don’t hold it against me,” he complained, gripping your thigh with one hand and spreading you open with the other. “Ah, there it is, the prettiest cunt in the world. My favorite fruit.” He leaned closer, blowing air on your clit.

You whined, your hole clenched around nothing and he laughed. “Missed me, I was in you early. So greedy for my attention always,” he said, to your cunt.

“Weird you do that,” you whined,

“Shush love this fucking cunt, of course, I’m going to talk to it.”

“Love how weird you are.”

He answered you by wrapping his lips around your clit, sweetly sucking on it. You arched off the wall, moaning softly. “Timmy shit,” you were already so close to having his cock in your mouth, you knew you wouldn’t last long.

Timmy looked up at you through his lashes dripping with the smugness that you loved so much. “Need your tongue in me already so close.”

He removed his lips from you, causing a whine to slip your lips. “None of that, I just wanted to talk to you. Was going to tell you I’ll do anything for you, but you are so impatient.” He smirked pushing two fingers inside of you, circling your clit with his tongue.

“Yes, shit, just like that. You know my cunt so well,” you praised.

A moment later his tongue joined his fingers as he fucked you, his thumb pressing into your clit. You moaned, rocking your hips on his face, needing more of him.

“Eat my cunt like that, fuck so. Gonna make a mess all over your face, don’t stop, don’t stop, shit shit fuck,” you lost your words as you came riding his face faster. Adding another finger he fucked you through your peek.

The moment your legs stopped shaking he put your legs on the ground. Standing up, he flipped you against the wall, rubbing his cock against your dripping cunt. “Fuck gonna blow as soon as I am in you.”

“Fuck do it, want your cum in me.”

“It’s all yours,” he said sinking in.

Freshly showered and fucked you both turned on the gas on the stove and then lit a match, walking out of the house. You didn’t turn back, just grabbed Timmy’s hand, breathing in the New York air. It felt like the first time you ever did and you loved it.

“Let’s get those burgers and some coffee. Our fun isn’t over yet,” you said, taking the keys and getting in the driver's seat. “I know the perfect place to go, you’ll love it there,” you grinned.

Timmy stared at you with a smile on his face.

“What?” You asked.

“Nothing, you just look so much happier, lighter. I love it on you.”

Grinning back at him, you peck his lips. “All because of you baby, couldn’t do any of this without you. Need my Timmy by my side away.”

“I’m not going anywhere. Now let’s get some food.”

The drive to the diner was full of loud music, and a few sneaky kisses that almost made you crash a few times, but the diner was mostly empty as you both walked in. You slide into a booth as Timmy got in on the other side.

You smiled over at him, running your foot along his leg. He started at you over the table, breathing deeper. “Baby, don’t make me hard right now.”

“Don’t get hard then,” you teased, as the waiter came over. You ordered, raising your leg higher and higher.

The moment the waiter was gone, Timmy grabbed your ankle. “Come sit on my lap,” he said huskily.

“I’m fine right here,” you said, grabbing your coffee and smirking at him over the table.

Grabbing his own mug, Timmy narrowed his eyes taking a sip as well. “Dangerous game, baby.”

“I like danger,” you said, moving your leg to run along his cock.

He gasped, almost dropping his mug.

“Hun, are you okay?” The waitress asked when she returned giving him his burger and you your pancakes.

“Oh he’s fine, it’s a first date. I think he is nervous.”

She grinned, “That is so cute,” she said as she walked away.

“Gonna make a mess in your pants for me?” You asked pouring syrup on your pancakes.

“Baby all my other pants have blood on them,” he pouted.

“And I’ll lick these ones clean when you cum. Right here in front of everyone,” you promised.

“You really are trying to kill me,” he chuckled putting his mug down and sitting back.

You smirked, “Baby, I would never, but it would be interesting to see you try to keep all your sounds to yourself.”

“Why do I feel like I’m being punished,” he whined.

“Don’t you like feeling like that?”

“Maybe.”

“Then that’s why.”

“Fuck I love how insane you are.”

You just blew him a kiss as you pressed into his cock more.

Timmy bit his lip before looking down at his burger. “How am I supposed to eat with you doing this?”

“You’re a smart man, figure it out,” you teased.

To say you were kicked out of the diner would be a lie. You were banned but it wasn’t as if you had plans to return. You only had a few more stops before you left New York for good.

You drove again as Timmy sat next to you, his knee bouncing nervously. Placing your hand on his knee you settled him. “You good, baby?” You asked softly.

“I haven’t seen my parents in years,” he confessed. Though you already knew that. After he got married they only invite him over for the holidays the first year, then they only called on holidays until they stopped altogether, sometimes inviting just his wife, but not him, leaving him alone.

Just thinking about it burns you from the inside. Your sweet boy was treated so horribly by the people that were supposed to look out for him. They would pay for hurting him, they would regret ever hurting him.

“I’m going to be with you. The whole way, don’t let them get to you, okay?” You said, kissing his knuckles.

“I won’t, I just. I don’t want them to get to me, you know. I’m different now, I’m happy I have you, but I still don’t know how I’ll react and that worries me.” He said biting his lower lip.

You had murdered his wife. And you were there to kill the people that hurt you, but this would be his first time facing his own trauma and demons. “There is no right or wrong way to react, okay. However, you feel is valid. If we get there and you want to just leave we can do that. Nothing is in stone.”

He nodded, leaning over and kissing your cheek. “You always know what to say,” he mumbled against the shell of your ear.

Breaking into Timothee’s family home was easier than you both thought. They kept the same codes from when he was living there. And the house was quiet and Timmy was more confident than he was in the car.

He walked with his bat across his shoulder blade as if he owned the place. His hand was firmly grasping your own. He glanced around the bottom level, before making his way over to the piano.

“Any request?” He asked teasingly.

“What’s your favorite thing to play? Will you play it for me?”

“For you, I’ll play anything.”

Timmy put the bat on top of the piano, then playfully cracked his knuckles. “This song goes out to the love of my life,” he smiled over at you before he started playing Love of my life by Queen.

You dramatically placed your hand over your heart. “I think I am going to faint,” you gasped.

Timmy chuckled, leaning over and kissing you. Kissing back you sunk your teeth into his bottom lip, biting until you draw blood. Groaning, he shoved his tongue in your mouth, causing you to moan.

“What the hell is going on here?”

Groaning sadly, you pulled away from your husband. Behind him, standing on the bottom was who could only be Timothee’s mother. You grinned at her, waving her over. “Hello dearest mother-in-law, it is wonderful to finally meet you,” you said, laughing lightly.

She ignored you as she made her way toward Timothee, who, for his part, never stop playing the piano. “Timothee, what are you doing here? Are you crazy? After the shame, you have put the family through, you have some nerve.” She shouted, smacking him on the back of the head.

The music stopped and your laughing ceased. You glared daggers at her, but this was his moment and as much as you wanted to stab her, you left him to take the reigns. Your eyes flickered to your husband’s, but he avoided yours.

“Mother. I am not surprised that the first thing you say to me after all this time is an insult. You really haven’t changed. That is refreshing, makes this a lot easier.” And without giving her a moment to reply, he quickie grabbed the bat and smashed it into the side of her head.

You gasped as blood spread all over you both. You looked down at the now-dead woman, before looking at Timmy. His breathing was heavy and he quickly headed towards the stairs, you close behind him.

You stormed through the house before getting to a locked door at the end of the hall. “This fucking door has been locked my whole fucking life. My father lives hiding in here and pretending the family didn’t exist,” He growled before kicking the door a few times until it burst open.

The man before the desk jumped at the loud noise. His eyes widened in confusion than fear as your blood-drenched husband walked in. “Hello Father, missed me?” He chuckled darkly, advancing on his father, smashing the computer on the desk, and throwing everything on the floor.

“T-Timothee. S-son. You are home, w-welcome.” The man was terrified and shaking moving away from his son who was still smashing everything between them.

“Welcome? Are you fucking kidding me? Nothing about you or this home was ever welcoming,’ he shouted. His eyes were wide and full of anger and suppressed pain.

“S-son. We can talk this out. I-is it m-money. I c-can help.”

“I don’t want shit from you. I never wanted your fucking money, your fucking business, and your shitty life, no matter how hard you tried, I didn’t want to be you,” he said, his voice cracking.

You moved to his side, pressing your hands into his lower back, letting him know he wasn’t alone. And you were there for him, with him no matter what. His tense back, relaxed a bit, but he was still burning in rage.

“You couldn’t just love me for me, be just a decent person, I tried so hard, tried to be what you wanted. I wanted to be the perfect son, I thought then you would love me, then you would still I had some worth and was worthy of love, but no you say a little project that was a failure,” he chuckled out through sobs.

“I hated my life dad? Did you know that? That I wanted to die every single day. Wait you do know, I told you once and what did you say?”

“Timothee we don’t need to bring the past up.” His father inched towards the door, but Timmy was faster and hit him in the side with the bat.

“What did you say?” He shouted in his face.

Crying, his father choked out. “I said Chalamet men aren’t weak. To be a man and get over it.”

“Be a man and get over it. Parent of the fucking year.”

Just then sirens could be heard outside the house. Running to the window, you saw police driving up the driveway. “Shit shit.” You said, running back to his side. “Baby you are doing so well, and I’m so proud but the cops are here,” you said.

His father chuckled from the ground. “You used the old code? We knew you would one day come here and try to get even. We were a step ahead of you, Son. Your poor mother is going to be so embarrassed when she has to explain to all our friends about our criminal son. We will just blame her,” he said, staring at you.

“Mom is dead,” Timmy said calmly. “And you are going to join her.” Dropping the bat, he grabbed your knife from your pocket. He grabbed his father by the hair, yacking him roughly. “You no longer get to be one step ahead of me, plan my life. Goodbye, father.” Swiftly, Timmy slit his throat, watching as he gagged and choked.

Breathing heavily, he stood up, wiping the blood off his face, only helping and smearing it all over him. He grabbed his waist, turning him around. You needed to go, but you had to make sure he was okay first.

“Baby? How you feeling?” You asked, pressing into his hips.

“Fucking empty, drain. Fucking happy I have you,” he said after a moment, finally making eye contact.

“So proud of you for standing up for yourself,” you said, hugging him.

He hugged back shuddering slightly in your hold. “I’ve never seen you like that before,” you said, patting his hair as he buried his face in your neck.

“Still love me?” He asked.

“Always, but we need to go.” You could hear the cops getting into the house and you had to go now.

“Yeah yeah, we got to go,” He said, grabbing your hand and pulling you out of the room and down a hall. He opened a door and quickly pulled you both in, closing and locking it behind him. “This was my room, there is a hidden staircase in the closet,” he explained as he pulled you along. He pushed clothes away, throwing his shoulder into the wall before the stairs appeared. “Parents caught me sneaking out and walled it up, didn’t want me leaving my fucking prison.

Quickly you took the stairs as quietly as you could. You were pressed against him, breathing heavily. The fear of being caught mixed with the thrill of running. As you got to the bottom, Timmy pressed you against the wall, covering your mouth as two cops ran past.

He looked down at you, moving closer to whisper in your ear. “Okay when I say go, I’m going to going to open the door and we will be in the kitchen, there is a side door that leads to the pool house and into the forest. Run towards the forest as fast as you can and keep going straight, you’ll get to the park, our park, okay?” He said.

“Why are you telling me this?” You whispered already guessing his answer.

“I have to get the car. We need to split up, just encase one of us is caught.”

“Timmy I don’t like this, let’s just both go to the park and steal a car after that,”

He shook his head. “Too much of a risk.”

“And you going to our car isn’t?”

“Hey don’t argue with me, this is the safest plan for you. Go to the park and wait for me. Stay hidden and wait. If I don’t join you in 20 minutes leave, run like hell, and get as far away from this area. Get back to the hotel, get your things and leave.”

“Timmy I’m not leaving you what the hell.”

“Baby baby baby,” he said, smashing his lips to yours, kissing you frantically. “Do this for me. I followed your plan, I didn’t like it but I did it. It will be okay, I will be there.”

Your eyes filled with tears. “Timmy don’t make me.”

He frowned, his own eyes a bit misty, but he still cupped your face, kissing you once more. “No need for tears, I will be there, I promise,”

“You swear?”

“I would never lie to my wife, love you too much,” he said, kissing your collarbone.

“Are you ready?” He asked.

Sniffling you nodded. “Be safe.”

“Always. Now go.” He opened the door and you stepped into the kitchen running towards the door he mentioned. You glanced back at him, but he just motioned for you to go as he ran in the opposite direction.

Taking a deep breath, you opened the door and ran as fast as you could. It was dark and luckily it was going to be hard to see you. You ran into the forest without being caught and paused to breathe when you heard talking and saw flashlights. You moved behind a tree, covering your mouth as the footsteps approach you.

“I swore I saw something move.”

“It was probably an animal. There is no way they got out of the house we are all over the place.”

“I’m not sure. They’ve killed over 20 people within the last year and a half, including a cop, and haven’t been caught. They are crafty.” They moved closer and you closed your eyes prepared to be caught when their radio sounded.

“We got eyes on Chalamet, requesting all units back to the house.” Cursing they turned and ran towards the house.

Your heart quickened. You glanced back in the direction of the house as tears fell down your face, but you listened to his words and kept running until you got to the park.

It was more run down than the last time you were here. The day you told Timmy you were moving and he kissed you, taking your first kiss. Your knees gave out as you got to the bench and you sat down shaking.

“He will be fine. He promised,” you told yourself, putting your hands into your pockets when your heart dropped. You sobbed loudly as you pulled at the car keys. “No no no no,” you sobbed.

Not less than a minute you heard a gunshot.

Thirty minutes later you still sat in the park. You weren’t crying anymore, just staring blankly at nothing. You were still covered in blood and you knew you had to get up, had to get moving. He told you to go to the hotel, to leave, but you couldn’t.

“Never fuck listen,” a pained voice said from behind you.

Gasping you stood and turned to see Timmy stumbling out of the forest, holding his side. You quickly made your way to him. “How could I leave?” You sobbed, hugging him tightly until he gasped out.

Pulling away, you saw the blood-soaked fingers that were pressed to his side. “Oh my god, Timmy?” You helped him and tried to move him to the bench, but he collapsed on the ground.

“No no baby, come on, let’s go to the bench.”

“And then what?”

“I don’t know, I will think of something.”

“Think here,” he said breathing roughly.

You sobbed, getting on the ground with him, pulling him into your lap. “Okay, you just keep your eyes open. And I’ll think of something.”

“Baby, I’ve been shot. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Don’t say that, you are going to be okay,” You said, already tearing off a piece of your shirt to press into his wound. He cried out, turning on his side.

“I’m not going to be okay, but you can. You need to go, they will probably track me here,” he said, coughing blood coming out.

“I’m not leaving you. This is all my fault, I forgot to give you the keys, fuck I’m sorry,” you whimpered.

“It’s okay. I’m not upset with you,” he said, his eyes closing.

“Hey hey, hey, don’t do that,” you said, slapping his cheek. “Timmy don’t leave me.”

His eyes opened halfway. His hand moves to touch your cheek, pressing his thumb against the bone. “I would never leave you on purpose. You know you are my everything.”

You sobbed more, kissing his palm. “And you are my everything. My whole world, I can’t go on without you, please Timmy doesn’t die on me. I told you I can’t live without you. Remember if you die, I die.”

“No, you have to live. Baby, you are so bright and fucking wonderful.”

“I’m a serial killer” You joked, through your tears.

He chuckled before whining in pain. His eyes dropped for a moment before he forced them back open. “You are more than that, you had to become to survive. You were hurting. We both were, feeding on that, but not anymore, go and be happy.”

“I’m happy with you,” you said, hugging him to you.

“And I’ve never been happier. Fuck I thought I would die alone and hating my life, but fuck, baby, this last year, all my time being with you, being your husband, it’s been the best time of my life.”

“And I’ve never been happier, more myself, and just better since meeting you. So you can’t go, I refuse, I’m not letting you go,”

He chuckled weakly. “My stubborn girl. We met here remember as kids and you were so sad, you thought you were broken, but you weren’t. People can’t break we are all like diamonds we form who we are under pressure. You were just in the pressing phase, but now you are a butterfly.”

You wiped his tears, grabbing his hand, squeezing tightly, never wanting to leave him. “I thought we were diamonds.

“Fuck I don’t know, I’ve been shot kick me some slack.”

You laughed, pressing your lips to his. “I’m sorry. I love you so much,” you mumbled, kissing him with every fiber in your body. Willing him to take your soul, to heal. You rather lose your life than him losing his.

He kissed back as much as he could, but he quickly pulled away, taking gasping, desperate breaths. You place your forehead on him, running your free hand through his hair. “I don’t see why we are having this conversation, you will be fine, we are going to get out of here.” You whispered.

“And go where?” He asked softly.

“France. I think I like the idea of getting our own shop, living in a small town, near the sea, what do you think?” You asked.

“Sounds perfect, what sort of shop will we run,”

“I don’t know yet, but we will figure it out.”

“And have babies.”

“Yeah, lots of babies. So many we will never get a free moment.” You chuckled opening your eyes to see his were closed, but a smile graced his lips.

“Hmm, but we will love every last one of them, let them know they are special, loved, and wanted.”

You bit your lip to keep in a sob, nodding against him. “So loved and so beautiful.”

“Like you,” he whispered.

“Like you,” you said.

“Kiss me.”

You pressed your lips to him, feeling his breath as it forced its way out of his body, and into yours. His hand with slack in your hold and his breath stopped brushing your lips. You cried silently as you hugged him closer to you.

“Yeah, yeah yeah. Take a nap, I’ll go g-get the car. And you rest and I’ll come back. I know I said I wouldn’t leave, but you are napping and I need to let you nap, get your strength up yeah, and then when I get back we will get out of here. Get our shit, I’ll get you cleaned up yeah, all fixed out and we will go straight to the airport.”

You cupped his face with shaky hands, kissing his cheeks, his nose, and then his lips. “I’ll be right back, don’t worry, I won’t leave you. I just need you to rest and I’ll be back,” you mumbled, slowly moving his body to the ground. “Rest baby, I’ll be back,” you whimpered getting to your feet.

You walked out of the park like a ghost. You were shaking. Was it winter? You weren’t sure. For all your shaking you couldn’t feel anything. You couldn’t even see anything, but you had to pull yourself together, Timmy needed you.

You walked into a neighborhood and chuckled bitterly when you realized it was the one from your childhood. You quickly walked to the house you once lived in. The lights were off and you broke the window.

The alarm went off, but you didn’t care making your way to the kitchen you grabbed a knife and moved to the stairs when you saw the keys in a little bowl by the door. You choked on a sob, grabbing the knife and grabbing the keys.

The car was in the garage and you quickly got in. Your hands still shook and your tears made it impossible to see, but you had to get to your husband. Turning the car on you, put your head on the wheel sobbing brokenly. You might haven’t been broken when you met Timmy, but you were now that you lost him.

You gasped, grabbing your chest as pain shoots through you wanted to scream, curse and kill someone anyone to make the pain stop. You just wanted to be happy to have your husband.

Your ring on your finger burned, and the silence in the car hurt your head.

“Timmy Timmy Timmy.”

“Yeah, baby?” He asked touching your face.

Gasping you looked over at him. He smiled widely when you looked at him. You were hit with how beautiful his eyes were. Little forests, easy for you to go lost in. You grabbed his face, touching him needing to know he was real.

He chuckled, placing his hands over yours. “What’s wrong?” He asked, kissing your palms.

“N-nothing nothing is wrong.” You smiled melting into his hold, wrapping your arms around his waist.

He chuckled, hugging you back, squeezing you to him. You noticed you were on a beach, the sun was setting and the tide was high. You grinned, cuddling into his side. “Are we in France?” You asked, pressing your ear to his heartbeat needing to hear it, to know he was here.

“Yeah, it’s nice isn’t it.”

“Anywhere with you is nice.”

Taglist.

@blackqueenstarseed1

@gatoenlaciudad

#timothee chalamet #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee chalamet imagines #timothee chalamet x you #timothee x reader #dark timothee #moment of impact

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skiller0dani · 4 years

Text

To Love Another | Timothee Chalamet

M A S T E R L I S T

slightly kinky/fluffy smut requests info wanna be on a Timmy taglist? click here

“You sure you’re okay with this?” Timothee asked for the hundredth time. In all honesty the answer was no. You absolutely were not okay with any other girl on him, even if it’s just for a movie. The thought of him being with anyone else sexually makes you feel positively sick to your stomach. But you smile as you wrap your arms around his shoulders.

“Yeah, it’s for a movie Tim. You’re just acting I know it doesn’t mean anything.” You reassure him and TImothee smiles before pressing a kiss to your forehead. You felt nauseous as he rolled over and flicked off the lamp. You were so graciously allowed to stay in his trailer with him on the set of ‘Beautiful Boy’ and tomorrow he would film his sex scene with Kaitlyn Dever. Timothee was an actor, it was all just acting. No feelings or emotions involved it was for a job. Logically you knew that but in your heart you felt your hands begin to tremble. Just imagining the scene made you feel dizzy with jealousy and insecurity. Maybe there were no feelings now but who’s to say Tim won’t feel something for her after the scene is over?

As his breathing steadies beside you, you slide out of bed. This trailer is feeling more and more suffocating by the second. You push out into the cool night air of Los Angeles, but that doesn’t do anything to relax the violent twisting of your stomach. You slide your cardigan over your shoulders as you walk along the rows of trailers, before sitting against the curb behind the studio. Taking your phone out you dial the number of the person you feel closest to besides Tim.

“Why are you awake?” You sister, Molly, groans after the 3rd ring. You’re silent as tears build behind your eyes and it only takes Molly a few seconds to figure out something’s wrong. “What’s going on squish?” Your older sister asks, using her childhood nickname for you. You release a deep breath as you sniffle pathetically into the phone. “Tim’s scene with Kaitlyn is tomorrow.” You choke through tears. You hear shuffling around as Molly clicks her lamp on, “Y/N does Tim know how upset you are?” Molly asks and you begin to feel incredibly guilty for waking her up. You would tell Tim but there’s no point because this scene is a part of the movie. They can’t just cut it out because Timothee Chalamet’s stupid girlfriend is uncomfortable about it. Plus telling him would only make him feel guilty, you want him to perform the best he can.

“What’s the point? There’s nothing he can do anyway.” You cry, your voice thick with tears as they cascade down your cheeks. You here Molly sigh softly, not out of annoyance she just feels so bad that you’re so upset. “Sweetheart you need to tell him it’s bothering you so much. I mean you know he’d never leave you.” She says and yeah logically you know that but you can’t stop the sickening feeling in your gut every time you think about tomorrow. You wipe away stray tears as you shake your head, “I can’t. I’ll be fine I just- I shouldn’t have called.” You cry, trying your best to hold back full sobs. This is so pathetic, you knew when he became an actor that he would have to do scenes like this. “No you can call me any hour you know that. Hun you’re being silly. I know it’s hard to see him like that with another girl, I remember how upset you were when he filmed ‘Call Me By Your Name’. Eventually you’ll have to tell him, he’s probably gonna have more scenes like this.” Molly says and you know she’s right.

Eventually you’re going to have to have this conversation with him, but you want to postpone laying that guilt on him for as long as you can. “Timothee loves you, more than anything. I know that because he’s always gushing over you- it get’s a little annoying actually. He adores you, he’d do anything for you.” Molly says and for a moment the deep nausea turning in your gut eases. She’s right, Tim loves you. He would never leave you, especially not because he wants a girl he filmed a sex scene with. “I’m alright now, thanks Molls. I’ll call you tomorrow okay?” You say as you hear her yawn.

“Yeah but only call me by your name.” Molly snickers and you roll your eyes playfully. “Hilarious pun.” You joke sarcastically. Soon you’re both saying goodnight and hanging up. You stand hesitantly from the curb and walk back to Timothee’s trailer. When you open the door you can hear his soft snoring, but his arm is feeling around where you were laying. “Baby?” You hear him mumble as you slide back into the bed next to him. Once you’re laying next to him again Tim immediately reaches over to pull you into his chest before falling back asleep. Your eyes don’t close however. You stare up into the dark ceiling feeling that anxious nausea building in your stomach again. Kaitlyn is going to have her hands on him tomorrow, and her lips. She’s going to feel his skin against hers, she’s going to feel his lips on hers. Tears sting at your eyes again as you roll to bury yourself in Tim’s chest.

The dreadful morning comes, and you’re stood behind the camera’s on set. You don’t technically have a reason to be here, but you assist the crew by fetching coffee or food for them. Plus Timothee is adorable and flashed that big smile at the director in order to get him to agree to you staying during filming. It helps that everyone that meets Tim falls in love with him, he’s very charismatic. Everyone falls in love with him, possibly even Kaitlyn. She’s sweet, she really is but you can’t help but hate her a little bit. You don’t want to because she’s an amazingly friendly person and you two actually hit it off pretty well before you learned she would be filming a sex scene with your boyfriend.

You sit in one of the crews members chairs as you watch Timothee prepare for the shower scene. He sends a wink your way and you muster your best smile for him, and it seems to satisfy him as he begins to run the lines to himself. You bite your lip to keep your emotions at bay as Kaitlyn comes into the set and then they’re waiting for the director to start the scene. The worst part is that this may take a few tries before the director is satisfied with the scene, so you’ll have to watch Tim pretend to have sex with Kaitlyn more than once. It feels like everything moves in slow motion for you once the director yells ‘action’. You watch as Kaitlyn starts the shower and enters under the water stream, with Tim not far behind her.

Soon Tim presses his hands to the wall of the shower and Kaitlyn turns to press her lips against his collarbones as he turns his face to hit the water. Your heart stops in your chest as tears build behind your eyes. “Kaitlyn, touch him more. Hands on his chest, down towards his waist. Don’t be afraid to touch him.” The director says before restarting the scene from where Tim enters the shower. The directors words are like fire in your chest, touch him more. You fight the urge to throw up once you watch Kaitlyn slide her hand down Tim’s chest towards his hips. Their lips connect as Tim turns them around to press Kaitlyn against the opposite wall of the shower. You close your eyes a tear blinks down your cheek as you watch Tim move against her, his soft groans stabbing your heart. Your breathing is shaky as you keep your eyes on the ground when the director stops them again. “Tim move against Kaitlyn more once you press her against the other wall, it needs to look passionate.” He says and Tim flashes him a thumbs up before they move to restart the scene again. You see Kaitlyn’s lips move as she says something to Timothee, causing him to laugh as they resume their positions.

You can’t take anymore and stand from the chair before silently exiting the set once you hear Tim groaning into her neck again. Once you gently shut the door behind you, you burst into a sob as you stumble towards Timothee’s trailer. Seeing him there, pressing her against the shower laughing at something she said. He’s in love with her, there’s no way he’s not. She’s absolutely perfect and you’re well...you. You’re not a celebrity, you’re not good at anything all you do is mooch off Tim’s success. Kaitlyn is a talented actress, they’d be perfect for each other. You walk briskly, wiping your tears as you make a beeline for the trailer. On your way you accidentally bump into Steve Carell, coming out of his own trailer. “Woah, Y/N are you alright?” He asks, concern forming in his eyes and you nod quickly. You wipe your tears, “y-yeah fine!” You stammer through sobs as you brush past him and continue your way to the trailer.

Steve pinches his eyebrows together as he watches you stumble into your trailer, before setting off for the studio to find Tim. Once he pushes into the set, Timothee’s scene is about over and he’s laughing with the crew not having yet realized that you’ve left. “Tim can I talk to you real quick?” Steve says, his eyes glancing around the people standing around Timothee. Tim nods instantly, bidding the others goodbye as he steps away from them. “Is Y/N okay?” He asks and Tim’s eyes move to the spot he last saw you. When he notices the chair is absent his eyes flutter around the room trying to spot you. “Because I saw her crying as she went to your trailer.” Steve says, clapping a hand against Tim’s back as he moves to get wardrobe and makeup done for his upcoming scene.

Anxiety pulses in his chest as he looks for the director. Crying? Why are you crying? Did he do something? Has he said something? Did he forget anything? Today isn’t a birthday or an anniversary, what on Earth did he do to upset you? “Uh can I take 10 real quick?” He asks the director who nods and as soon as he does, Tim is out the door. He’s briskly walking to his trailer, his heart ready to burst out of his chest with every step. Has someone died? Are you sick? Did you hurt yourself? What’s going on, why are you crying?

When he pushes the door to his trailer open he hears your quiet sobbing and his anxiety is sent into overdrive. “Baby?” Tim says immediately rushing to you on the bed. Your hands cover your face as you try to desperately wipe away your tears, but you know he’s already seen them. “I’m fine, you should get back.” You stammer, your voice thick and broken with unshed tears. Tim shakes his head as he pulls your hands away from your face and his heart breaks upon seeing your puffy eyes and tears stained cheeks. “What’s wrong? Baby talk to me, whatever I did I’m sorry.” Tim stammers, his eyes clouded in concern as he cups your cheeks in his hands. Using his thumbs to brush away falling tears you continue to sit and cry and he doesn’t know how to make this better.

“Y/N please, baby talk to me.” Tim pleads you, tears beginning to well in his own eyes. What has he done? He wants more than anything for you to just talk to him. “I love you, whatever I did I’ll fix it. I’ll make it right.” Tim begs on his knees in front of you. You laugh bitterly, wiping away tears. You know it’s not his fault, you know he was just doing his job but right now all your pain is being directed at him. “You can’t! So just go back and keep grinding against Kaitlyn!” You cry out, pushing him away from you as you slide to the center of the bed. Tim’s eyes widen in disbelief, “baby is this about the sex scene?” He asks gently, still trying to reach out and hold you. You cry into your palms as you feel the bed dip in front of you. Tim once again pulls your hands away from your face and holds your chin to look you in the eyes.

“Baby, that was just a scene. Kaitlyn and I are just friends, it was nothing. I was acting, everything I did and all the sounds I made were a part of the scene. I promise.” Tim explains desperately, and you fall silent as tears fall down your cheeks. You look up into his eyes, seeing the worry and pain written on his features softens your anger. “Baby, I love you. Only you. I only want you, I only want to make you feel good. I only want you to make me feel good.” Tim promises as he takes your hands in his and you let him. He presses his forehead against yours, “I love you and only you. I have never wanted Kaitlyn, I can only get through those scenes by thinking of you.” He admits and your eyes open. Tim presses his lips against yours, his hair and clothes still soaking wet from the shower. “I love you Timmy.” You whisper as you hold his hands tightly.

Tim pulls away from you before standing, “I need to finish filming, but baby I promise I’m gonna make it up to you when I get back.” He says as he heads to the door of the trailer, you smile genuinely as you watch him go. “I love you!” He calls as he shuts the door, leaving you sitting on the bed alone. The anxious nausea as dissipated as you lay back against the mattress. You don’t know what came over you, you know Timothee loves you. He’s never given you a reason to doubt him, you feel guilty for questioning him. You let out a sigh as you close your eyes, feeling much better now that he’s reassured you. You know that when Tim gets back you’re going to have to have that conversation with him that you’ve been postponing. You feel drowsiness creeping up on you from the lack of sleep you got last night and soon you’re asleep on the mattress.

Later that evening when Tim enters the trailer again, he sees you sleeping peacefully on the bed. He smiles to himself, but his joy seeing you is short lived when he remembers your fight from earlier this afternoon. It hurts him that you could think he’s capable of hurting you in that way. Don’t you know how much he adores you? Don’t you know how much you mean to him? He kicks his shoes off and tiredly walks over to the bed. Timothee leans down on the bed, his hands coming up to find the waistband of your shorts. If you don’t believe how loyal and committed he is to you, he’ll just have to show you instead. He carefully peels your shorts down your legs, pausing when you shift in your sleep.

“Naughty girl,” Timothee whispers to himself when he sees your lack of panties as he’s met with your bare pussy. He very carefully pushes your thighs apart enough to fit between them. Timothee blows cool air over your core, causing you to gasp in your sleep. Once you’ve settled back into a deeper sleep Tim leans up and presses a chaste kiss to your clit, and your mouth falls open. He licks from your entrance all the way to your clit, and your eyes fly open when his lips latch around your sensitive bundle of nerves. “G-God Timmy,” You moan as he continues to lick and gently bite at you. Your hands wind into his hair as you pull his face closer to your center. Timothee hums against you as his arms come up to push your hips back to the bed.

“Fuck,” you breathe as you throw your head back when Timothee reaches up to slide 2 fingers into you. His eyes meet yours as he quickly pumps his fingers and keeps rolling his tongue against your clit. You cry out as your back arches again and as you feel the coil winding in your stomach, he pulls away. “Timothee!” You groan in sexual frustration, still trying to clear your brain from sleep. His lips and chin are wet as he crawls up your body, “you really think I want anyone else?” Tim hums lowly, an air of dominance to him as he watches you intently. You fall silent as he gently pushes you to lay back on the bed, with him hovering above you. Timothee grinds his hardening cock against you, causing you to arch your hips up into his with a needy whine. “You think Kaitlyn could get me hard like this?” He breathes into the shell of your air sending goosebumps down your arms.

You stay silent as Timothee dips his head to press his lips to yours. The kiss is slow and passionate as your arms come up to wrap around his shoulders tightly. When he pulls away, his forehead is pressed against yours. “How many times do I need to prove to you that this cock belongs to you for you to finally believe it?” Timothee groans as his hands find the hem of your shirt. You nibble at your lip as you stay quiet, leaning forward slightly as Tim pulls the shirt over your head. His pupils widen when he sees your bare breasts and instantly he’s leaning down to bring a nipple into his mouth. Your fingers wind into his hair at the back of his hair as you moan breathlessly, “I get so scared of losing you.” You admit in a whisper as his teeth gently bite down on you.

Tim brings his head up to look into your eyes, “you never will. Don’t you see that?” He asks you, his eyes gentle but sad. You press your lips to his again before you’re pushing Timothee to his back. You swing your legs over his waist as you reach down to unbutton his jeans. When you yank the zipper down you reach your hand into his jeans and pull him out his pants. You lean over him and take him into your mouth. Timothee hisses as his hands immediately wind through your hair. You relax your throat as you take him as far as you can and he’s gasping when your nose is touching his pubic bone. “No one could suck me off the way you do baby,” Timothee praises as you begin to bob your head slowly along his cock. When you glance up to make eye contact with him he groans, his right hand stroking your cheek lovingly.

“Fuck, baby you gotta stop or I’m gonna come.” Timothee groans as he gently pulls you off him after you hollow your cheeks. In one swift moment he’s yanking his shirt over his head and leaning back against the headboard. He places his hands on your waist to flip you over but you push him back against the headboard. “I wanna ride your cock baby.” You whisper as you press a kiss to his throat. Tim groans as he watches you lean up to line him up with your entrance. You place his head against your slick folds before slowly sliding down onto him until you’re sitting on his hips. You moan softly at the feeling and Timothee’s hands grasp at your hips. You lean forward to press your lips to his as he lifts your hips. You begin to rock against him, panting into his mouth. “Fuck baby you feel so good around me.” Tim hums against your lips as his hands help you keep a steady pace.

You rest your forehead against his with your eyes closed as you moan softly. You continue to gently ride him, feeling the heat building in your stomach. “I love you.” Tim whispers as lips brush over yours. Your hands grasp at his shoulders when he begins to snap his hips up to meet yours. “I love you baby,” You cry out just as his thumb moves to rub slow circles over your clit. Tim’s hands slide around your waist as he rolls you over. He pushes into you with his face buried in your neck. You press kisses to his shoulder and neck as you moan, “fuck baby I’m gonna come.” Timothee moves faster, causing electricity to erupt inside you as you begin to cry out against his skin. With one last snap of his hips you’re squeezing around him and pushing your chest up against his as you come. Timothee fucks you through your orgasm as he stutters before he comes inside you.

Your skin is sweaty as you stay intertwined with him, breathing heavily. His face is still pressed into the crook of your neck as he slowly pulls out of you. You immediately miss the feeling of him filling you as he rolls to his back. You slide across the bed to snuggle into his chest. Tim’s arm curls around you and his hand rubs up and down your arm. “I’m sorry.” You whisper into the silence and he presses a kiss to your head. Tim squeezes you tighter, “I know. I just- why don’t you have faith in me?” He asks sadly, breaking your heart. You bite your lip as tears build behind your eyes, “it’s not you I don’t have faith in Tim, it’s me.” You whisper as tears fall down your cheeks. Timothee sits up, pulling you with him so that he can turn you to look at him. “I’m not enough. I’m not talented, or- or pretty. There are models that throw themselves at you, and you’re stuck with me so I wouldn’t blame you if you... if you-” You’re cut off by tears and Tim immediately cradles your head against his chest.

“How could you think any of that? How could you think you’re not enough for me? That you’re not pretty enough, or talented enough?” Timothee says, his voice breaking as tears build in his own eyes. You stay silent as tears cascade down your cheeks. “I haven’t been good enough to you. If you truly believe I would be better with someone else then I’ve done a terrible job at loving you.” Tim says softly, and you can hear the pain thick in his voice as he holds you tightly to him. Your arms pull him closer to you, “Timmy don’t say that. You’re far more than I deserve.” You argue weakly, and he presses his head against yours. Your noses brush together, “I’m going to spend every second of the rest of my life showing you how perfect you are for me.” Timothee promises against your lips. You love this man with everything in you, losing him sounds worse than any hell you could live in. “I know.” You smile, before kissing him again.

#timothee chalamet smut #timothee chalamet #timothee chalamet x reader #timmy chalamet #timothée chalamet imagine #timmy chalamet imagine #smut #beautiful boy #on set smut #lil timmy tim

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peeterparkr · 4 years

Text

perfidy;tom holland|2

chapter 2: the movie scene

enemies to lovers au

story summary: Tom and you have been sworn enemies since you were young. However, you happened to be best friends with the twins. When one of your friends challenged you to break Tom’s heart, you immediately accepted to get back at him for all the times he’s hurt you. Old feelings might come back, while both of you try to go past your pride and your lies.

chapter summary: the first time you kissed and the last time he offered to kiss

pairing: tom holland x y/n

warnings: swearing, flashback in italics, mentions of sex, fluffy-ish?, throwing up

word count: 5.5k

previous chapter next chapter series masterlist wanna be tagged?

We never really want to give in to feelings when we are well aware they’re not reciprocated. It is dumb, and it makes us shy, and very very insecure. We all fear rejection coming our way, and rejection hurts our pride. It was a good thing that your feelings were only hatred. They were very much reciprocated.

Though people liked to point it out to you very often, and not so kindly. From hate to love there’s only one step.

You never really believed in that, but you knew that at least in your case, hate didn’t mean the absence of love. It never is, if we are honest.

But really, if you were honest to yourself, you did love Tom. In your own way, but you didn’t like him. Or stand him. Because everything he did annoyed you. And people loved to point out your certain reactions to whatever he did.

Sure, your cheeks got red, and you were flustered, but that was only the visible reactions to the headaches you’d get whenever he was around. Because he would always find his way to make you feel your worse, or prank you or ruin your big chances. Actions get reactions.

You were tired of him and you didn’t trust him, but you knew that if you ever needed help, and there was no one else who could help you, you could call him up. Yes, you loved him, in his own pathetic way, you'd grown up together, after all, and you knew every single detail about the other, which made things worse.

You grew behind his shade, and for a time, it didn’t matter but when he pointed it out, it did get on your nerves. Especially because he had been the one to get you to notice all your flaws.

And even if right now the feelings were mutual, you turned back to time when they weren’t. The first time he broke your heart, he had you wondering, all night long. An 8 year old already staring into the mirror and wondering what she had done wrong, wondering if she wasn’t pretty enough, had it been her hair? Was she just plain annoying? or if her voice wasn’t good enough or was it her personality?

Because you saw that he was always the one who everybody loved, so he had to know something about it. If he didn’t love you, or like you in that matter, he had to have a saying on it. Bullshit, he knew nothing.

You grew up, and now you knew it wasn’t your fault he didn’t like you. He was the one missing it.

However, you hated that he was always on the spotlight, and he’d be a big spoiled brat about it. Tom this, Tom that. It infuriated you that everything had to revolve around him, of course Mr. Big Shot was the star, and he had to brag about it. Especially around you. Your mother and big brother said it was only to get your attention.

“Please,” your brother James would say. “All straight men do is to be stupid enough around women so they’ll think, hey that’s incredible?”

Your brother’s theory relied on the fact that men are only stupid because they want women’s attention You know how straight men like to cannon ball at the pool parties? Yes, that’s because of you. You know how men like to shake beers and then down them as fast as they can? Yeah, that’s because of you.

You had a simpler theory, men are stupid by nature. Especially Tom, he was very stupid.

However, thanks to his constant seeking of attention, and the combination of his lack of intelligence, he’d often find himself acting pretty stupid around you. Thing which you absolutely loved. It gave you reasons to make fun of him.

Still, that loathing was deep inside you, and you knew that at any point, he could make you turn around and stab you right on your chest, never backstabbing, Tom wanted to make you well aware he was hurting you. You couldn’t trust him, because he made it very clear that he wasn’t your friend. He was a childhood close acquaintance.

Enemies. That’s it, that was the word. No need to sugar coat it. You had your history, and even though you could say that sometimes, like in that particular moment, you doubted your loathing was reciprocated, you knew he’d come back again with yet another way to prove to you he was a complete asshole.

So when you arrived at the building, and he got out of the car as well, you knew something was up.

“You don’t have to stay,” you reminded him. “I’ll take an Uber back home.”

“My mum invited you to lunch, and asked me to personally drive you, don’t read much into it,” Tom snapped.

“Oh, they’re still trying,” you rolled your eyes.

Tom chuckled. “Yeah, they believe we might get along if we keep having lunch together.”

“Why are we having lunch, though? Is there any special occasion?”

“Your interview,” Tom explained.

He followed after you into the building. You sceptically watched him.

“Well, but don’t you have better things to do?” You asked.

“Maybe,” he shrugged. “But I’d rather be here to help you, maybe I’ll even give you a pep talk.”

You clenched your jaw. “This is a big day for me, don’t ruin it.”

“I’m genuinely not trying to,” he chuckled. “I just happen to be very good at annoying you, sorry babe.”

“There’s a cafetería—“

“I know this place, sweetheart, remember I’m actually relevant in the film world.” He pushed you and walked past you.

“You know for being so relevant you’d think you’d be smarter. The cafeteria is upstairs, dickhead.”

He made his way into the elevator with you and watched you.

“How are you feeling?”

“Fine, I guess,” you admitted.

“Hey, um… I know it’s not the time but I really am sorry for last week,” he pushed.

“I don’t want to talk about it now, Tom.”

“I didn’t know that you had-”

“I said I didn’t want to talk about it,” you repeated. You were barely recovering from it. And it hadn’t really been his fault. Except that he had so nicely done something you hadn’t quite loved.

You had just gone through a breakup about a month ago. Timmy. He had turned from being your everything to someone you’d rather forget now. A two-year relationship had just banished in front of you.

You wouldn’t have guessed he’d bring up Timmy over to you at Harry’s and Sam’s birthday dinner. You knew Timmy would be there, he was friends with most people there but having the audacity to walk in with another girl to your best friends party? Seemed sketchy.

You knew Tom didn’t know about the breakup, the last thing he had known was you guys were having problems.

“Oi, y/n look over there, that’s your boy, ain’t he? Why isn’t he here making out with you? Did he get tired of you?” Tom laughed as he walked over to you. “Wait, is he with another girl? Ooof, guess you guys are going to have another fight tonight, right?” He commented as you were just silently looking away. “Y/N, c’mon, that’s probably a friend, chill, hey, Timmo!” And he called out to him.

“Tom, please…”

“No, no, it’s alright, I’m saving you from having a fight, better have him around here! Timmy” He called out again.

And he had turned around and awkwardly waved.

“C’mon over, pretty boy,” Tom continued. “Don’t leave me with y/n.”

“Tom, don’t,” Harry Approached and warned him as he had noticed what Tom was doing.

Timmy never liked Tom. He said that Tom was unnecessarily rude to you, and he was right. Also, Timmy was one of those people who believed in the whole ‘from hate to love’ bullshit. He was sure that Tom and you would leave each other hot and bothered and that your hatred was only an excuse to hide away the real feelings towards each other. Timmy was often jealous of your relationship with any of the Hollands. ‘Tom is a big star, you could easily fall for him’.

Tim walked over anyway.

“Uh, hey guys,” he said awkwardly. “Hi, y/n.”

“Oi, what were you doing over there with a girl who’s not y/n?” Tom pushed. “That ain’t right mate,” Tom sounded drunk.

“Tom can you please stop?” Harry asked.

“Happy Birthday, Harry,” Timmy said awkwardly. He looked over at you. “Hi.”

“What happened between you both? Did you finally break up? Wouldn’t blame you Timmy, I don’t really get why you’re dating y/n, for that matter, don’t you get tired of it?” Tom pushed.

“We’re actually on a break right now,” Timmy cleared up, angrily.

Tom’s eyes widened with shock. You didn’t want to explain anything, so you walked away.

The elevator door opened and suddenly a black-haired, blue-eyed and around your age, gorgeous man had walked in. You knew about him, he worked on another show, he was also a writer, a full time one. But you knew that he was probably only there so he could be cast, and you really wondered why they hadn’t yet. Someone as gorgeous as him needed to be on all the screens.

Yes, Joseph Holt. Of course, you knew about him, someone as perfect as him couldn’t go unnoticed. His charming smile and personality was only too much to ask for.

He grinned at you.

“Morning,” Joseph smiled and then proceeded to stare at Tom.

“Morning,” you greeted him.

He took two seconds to look at your outfit. It was neat, nice, professional, and probably better as to how he probably saw you, with bags around your eyes and multiple Starbucks cups on your hands.

“You’re y/n, right? I’ve seen you working at ‘Crooked Manners’,” he pointed out.

“Yes, and you’re Joseph, right?” You grinned. “You work at ‘A little bit of Heaven’ right? With Cassey?”

“Yeah, that’s me,” he grinned and then gave a second glance to Tom. “You can call me Joe, though.”

Tom chuckled.

Joseph, Joe, turned around to see Tom. “I’m sorry, is there anything funny?”

“No, I’m sorry,” Tom grinned.

“So, you’re a writer, too?” Joe asked you.

“I am,” you closed your eyes. “Well, an assistant right now.”

Tom cleared his throat. You glared at him.

“Yes?” Joe asked.

“I’m just… I’m Tom.”

“Oh, so I did see right.” Joe nodded.

“Yeah, I’m Holland, Tom Holland,” he sassed.

“Calm down, 007,” you rolled your eyes.

“And I happen to be y/n’s boyfriend, very nice to meet you,” Tom grinned as he offered a hand to Joe.

Joe widened his eyes as he shook it. “Oh.”

“What?” You turned to Tom and nudged him. “No, no, he’s not my boyfriend.”

“Ah, alright, sorry, friendship with benefits, I’m sorry darling, I thought we’d agreed on not calling it that anymore,” Tom smirked and placed his hand on your waist. Confused and angry, you pushed him off of you.

“He’s… not, no, no, nothing of that, he’s just… I know him alright?” You tried to clear up, and Joe chuckled, as confused as you were.

“That’s… alright. Do you think I could get your number?” Joe asked as he handed you his phone. “Just so.. You know we could help each other with any writing?”

“Yeah yeah, for sure, and just to clear it out, he’s not my boyfriend or anything, alright?” You cleared out as you typed in your number.

The elevator door opened up again.

“It’s fine, I’ll catch with you later, Y/N,” Joe grinned. “And um, nice meeting you, Tom.” He said as the elevator closed.

“What the fuck was that?” You turned to Tom and slapped his elbow . “What is wrong with you?”

“Ouch!” He yelled, “I’m helping you get laid,” Tom laughed.

“You… you fucking are what now?”

“I just made you at least 45% more appealing to that guy,” Tom laughed. “Please, he wouldn’t turn your way unless he knows that someone like me slept with you.”

“You’re a dickhead,” you stated.

“You know I’m right, and by your attitude lately I can actually assure you, you haven’t got any in awhile,” he noted. “I’m just trying to help you get someone to...how did he call it? write with.”

“I can handle that myself,” you snapped. “This isn’t any of your business.”

“Hm but it could be,” He smirked.

“Besides I don’t want him thinking I’d got any weird fungus down there from sleeping with you.”

Tom cackled, rolling his eyes. “You wish you had them.”

“So you admit you’ve got them?” You asked with a smirk as the door finally opened.

“I don’t--”

You got to your floor where your friends were waiting for you and were rather surprised when they saw who was behind you.

“Y/N!” Charlie called as he waved at you. He smirked. “Girl”

You stopped abruptly and turned to Tom. “The coffee is over there, I’m sure you can find your way around here, just follow the signs.”

“Ah, don’t you want me around your friends?”

“Now why would I want such a tragedy?”

He scoffed. “Fine, break a leg.”

You smiled. “Thanks, even though it’s not theatre.”

“I’m well aware of that,” he smirked and then turned around off to the cafeteria.

You made your way to your friends, also interns at the studio. Charles, who would often say his name was too absurd and proper for his personality was smirking at you proudly, while Danielle, your clumsy and rather quiet friend was rather interested in seeing Tom.

Charlie smirked and hummed. “I see, I see, strutting around with a little help, hmm classy girl, show off you’ve got pulls.”

You rolled your eyes. “Good morning to you, too.”

“Why didn’t he come and say hello?” Danielle asked with hope.

“He drove me here, and I don’t want you guys to deal with his bullshit,” you explained.

“Hmh,” Charlie stared at Tom. “Hmhm hun, I know you hate him, but homeboy is looking fine this morning.”

You raised a brow and turned around to look at him. “He’s wearing a black t-shirt,” you raised a brow. “What’s the hype about it?”

“Hm, I’m just saying I’d love to take it off,” Charlie sassed.

You rolled your eyes and turned to face your friends. “I really don’t see why you find him attractive, all his looks are erased by his personality.”

“So you do admit he’s got looks,” Charlie smirked. “I’m telling you girl, you secretly got the hots for him, and boy, I ain’t gonna blame you.”

Danielle grinned but then instantly blushed as she saw who was walking behind you.

“I forgot to ask,” Tom said, making you jump. He chuckled.

“What?” You frowned.

“I was going to ask if you wanted me to buy you anything, and I forgot I had brought you this,” Tom offered you a Lion Candy Bar. You raised your brows. “ But if you don’t want anything else… Or maybe your friends….”

“Hi!” Danielle grinned.

Joey grinned. “Hello.”

“We’re fine,” you said before your friends could keep on talking as you looked down at the chocolate “You’re being nice, what’s up?”

He grinned. “I know it’s a big day for you, I ain’t trying to mess it up and I know for a fact those are your favourites.”

“Or maybe you are, trying to freak me out by being nice,” you shrugged. “I know your games, Thomas.”

He chuckled. “Look, I just really want you to do well.”

“Thanks, now I’ll do better if you’re not around, you get me on my nerves” you pushed. “Bye.”

“I’m serious y/n, I know they’ll love you and your color-coded notes,” he chuckled. “Plus you’ve got good orthography.”

“Ah, sure that’s what they're looking for in a writer,” you laughed. “Now, please, Tom, I need to check important stuff.”

“You’re right, it’s not,” Tom grinned. “But you should loosen up a little, unless all writers look like constipated bitches.”

“Ah, original, a constipation insult, I see, you’ve learned no other insult in these last years, good to know I have to speak to you as if you were a thirteen year old boy.”

He clenched his jaw and watched you, as if he had just been challenged. “That's no way of talking to your boyfriend, darling.” Tom had placed his hands on your waist as you took them off, calmed but stiff.

“Leave,” you ordered him again.

He smirked as he stepped in closer. “How about a good luck kiss?”

You crossed your arms, and watched him judging. “Leave, Tom.”

“Such a shame, we don’t kiss that often anymore,” Tom laughed.

“We’ve never kissed,” you rolled your eyes.

“I’ve got proof we have,” he snickered and then proceeded to walk off. “Good luck, babe.”

You rolled your eyes. “I hate him.”

Charlie smirked. “You’ve kissed.”

“That’s absolutely none of your business,” you said. “Now can we please focus on…. I have an interview in an hour.”

“Darling, you’ve got some explaining to do first,” Charlie laughed. “Boyfriend?”

You rolled your eyes as you headed to the small cubicle the three of you shared.

“We bumped into Joe Holt,” you explained. “And Tom said we were a couple in front of him saying that if Joe believed that Tom was dating or sleeping with me it would make me 45% more attractive.”

Danielle grinned. “Joe Holt and Tom Holland?”

“Oh god, Danielle, get a grip,” you rolled your eyes.

“Oh, and did Mr. Holt talk to you?” Charlie wiggled his eyebrows.

“Asked me for my number and everything,” you said proudly. “Which… Oh god. I mean it could mean nothing but…”

“Girl, you’re on fire,” Charlie chuckled. “Though he’s just another white boy.”

You laughed. “He’s still attractive.”

“But are you ready to date?” Danielle asked.

“Oh my god, Dan, he asked her for her number, not to suck his dick,” Charlie implied, making both you and Danielle giggle awkwardly.

“But she knows what I mean!” Danielle laughed. “Just a week ago we had her crying and listening to Taylor Songs.”

“Yeah, and weren’t you seeing Timmy tomorrow?” Asked Charlie condescendingly.

“Look, I’m…I’m ready to move on, you know?” You admitted. “We talked about a break that would last for a month and we’ll see how that goes, alright?”

“I’m not trying to steal your thunder but I myself got a date tonight, so, I’m just gonna pop that in,” Charlie giggled.

“Nice,” you smirked.

“But alright, are you ready for the interview?” Dannielle asked.

Danielle, Charlie and you were kind of the golden trio of the interns, you’ve known them since college. Not a big friendship back then but when the three of you met here, a sort of friendship started.

“It’s not really an interview, you know that right?” Charlie said. “I mean, they’ll probs just tell you you’re already hired, although I heard a word that they’re working on a new series and they might get you there.”

“A new series?” You asked.

He chuckled. “You didn’t hear it from me, but the word says that they’re asking some interns to come up with a story and then...they might have their big breakout.”

“Hm,” you shrugged as you placed the chocolate on the table.

“Aren’t you going to eat that?” Questioned Danielle.

“Tom gave this to me,” you barked as if it was so obvious.

Charlie smirked as he side eyed Danielle. “When is all this going to end?”

“When is what going to end?” You frowned.

“Please,” Charlie grinned as he leaned over. “We both know you don’t hate him.”

“I do.”

“But you care for him,” Danielle pushed.

“Hatred isn’t the absence of love, alright?” You rolled your eyes. “Hatred means according to the dictionaries, intense dislike.”

“So you love him?” Danielle asked with confusion.

“Ugh, yes because they grew up together,” Charlie explained. “Gosh, Dan, do you never listen?”

“Look, I can’t stand him,” you explained. “I just really think he’s very annoying, and I’m right, he is annoying and he can’t stand me either. We’re good with that relationship.”

“Have you kissed though?”

You scofffed. “Look, maybe once when we were teens? And…” You took a deep breath. “It meant nothing, you know? It really does mean nothing, but he likes to point it out every now and then.”

“Why?”

“Look,” you closed your eyes and gulped. “He… he was kind of,” you sighed. “We were at a party”

“Oh, seven minutes in heaven?” Charlie took a sip of his coffee. “Damn.”

“Yes, but it was stupid, alright?” You rolled your eyes. “I was… 17 and I was sad because my crush was there with another girl and I wanted to make him feel jealous” You felt weird only speaking about it. “And I told him.”

“Did you ask him to kiss you?”

“Look, I was very stupid and I kind of used to have a on and off crush on him and he was already an actor” you blushed. “Look, I was very stupid I was kinda drunk, too.”

“You still kissed fucking Spiderman?” Danielle chirped.

“But it’s no big deal,” you sighed. “Now, we hate each other and haven’t kissed since, alright?”

Though, it wasn’t true. Not really. You did think of it as a deal, not a big one, but a deal. Because also, the second statement wasn’t true. Tom and you had kissed each other, three times. Only one had meant something, the first one. The other two you blamed on the heartbrakes and one on alcohol and stupidity, they didn’t mean anything. Besides, after those two, things really didn’t go well. Only the first time you ever kissed was important to you both.

But the first one, you remembered it perfectly. But it wasn’t the time to think of it, right now.

“You know I’ve got a theory,” Charlie grinned.

“Everyone does,” you rolled your eyes. “Now if you don’t mind I need to focus.”

It bothered you how every single person would try and chirp in your relationship with Tom. There was no deep meaning behind it, just two people who enjoyed annoying each other and who hated each other’s company. That was it. Even you could joke about it with Tom, just like the lunch you’d be having later, it probably being the latest attempt your mother and his had to make you guys get along. They’d make you sit down together and often leave you alone, which only ended up insulting or you guys completely ignoring each other. It was annoying.

“I have a theory,” Charlie sang anyway. “That if you guys slept with each other all of this would be gone, all your said hatred,” Charlie grinned.

“That ain’t true, and I’d never sleep with him.”

“I’m sure all of this is from the sexual tension you’ve developed all over the years,” Charlie continued.

“Sexual tension?” You laughed. “He literally called me a constipated bitch, you… you call that sexual tension?”

“Straight men are weird,” Charlie shrugged. “And please, I’ve seen how he acts around you, he’s just like a damn child all smittened with you.”

“Yes, he does check you out from time to time,” Danielle admitted.

“Only to see what he can point out and make a shitty comment from it,” you rolled your eyes. “Look, it’s not gonna happen.”

“I’m just saying that you’d get along if you were both sweating against each other, and grinding and-”

“Gross,” You interrupted him. “The only thing you’ve got right is he’s a child.”

“Besides, I can bet you that if you were to ask him to have sex with you, he’d say yes without thinking about it.”

“Why would I ask him that?” You scolded.

Danielle laughed. “Because you also secretly have a crush on him.”

You watched them with disbelief. “You’ve got to be shitting me.”

“Look, maybe not from you but I can assure you that Tom desires you,” Charlie grinned.

“Oh god, guys this isn’t a Sandra Bullocks movie, just shut up.” You sat down and opened up your computer to try and focus on the interview you’d have.

“Didn’t Timmy say that?” Danielle asked.

“Oh, yes, that he was sure Tom did everything he did to impress you and take you away form him,” he laughed.

“If we’re honest, Timmy thought that of any man, even of you, Charles,” you mocked with a gentle giggle.

“Besides y/n you need a rebound,” Danielle insisted.

“Tom would be a hell of a rebound,” Charlie admitted. “Oof, I bet he’s great at the aftercare.”

“Yes,” Danielle agreed. “And I think that he’s not into weird things, you know?”

“Or like, good weird, you get what I’m saying?”

You watched them annoyed. “Oh my god, guys, you are taking as if that was actually going to happen,” you shook your head.

“Look, go ahead, ask him to have sex with you,” Charlie insisted as you watched him unbothered. “Please it’d take you less than ten minutes to get you to let you fuck him.”

“Oh, and they would like fall in love with each other,” Danielle said.

“What?” Charles laughed. “Girl, no I’m just trynna get her laid.”

“But wouldn’t it be romantic? A whole enemies to lovers story?” Danielle continued.

“Maybe he’d fall in love, not me,” you said. “I could easily make him fall in love with me and I wouldn’t catch a feeling.”

“Oh, will you, now? Wanna bet?” Charlie grinned.

“I’m not having this conversation, I’d rather go back to him,” you admitted as you walked off with your computer back to where Tom was, so peacefully sitting down scrolling on his phone as he was biting on half a sandwich.

He looked up at you, and you were probably blushing. It felt weird walking back to a man whom your friends had just suggested you should sleep with.

“Hi, they’re bothering me, I can’t concentrate and I’m going to go through a breakdown if I don’t- I’m not gonna bother you alright, I just need to calm down before everything.” And you were being honest with him, and you knew he understood.

He was a jerk, but not that big of a jerk.

“Yeah, no, it’s alright, sit down,” he shrugged as he offered you a seat.

Somehow you felt calm, because he noticed you needed that.

You sat down and didn’t even look at him, although you were fighting the urge not to.But your mind was actually thinking of him, not of the past conversation, no but your first kiss together, your first kiss ever. One which wasn’t on camera.

And the time came, and you were at your interview trying your best to listen and answer perfectly, but your mind went back to that first kiss and your mind went back to the conversation you had with your friends.

But it came to the kiss, that kiss. One which you knew you shared a secret of. It had been all you could expect from a first kiss, sweet and clumsy and very quick, a small peck on the lips he’d given you. And although, it had been weird.

You remembered it, Tom had noticed you were down and not even coming up with comebacks. You were tired, your friend Fabiola, the only one of your friends who remained with virgin lips had given her first kiss, with that kid Aaron with the red backpack.

So you remained to be the only one of your friends without a first kiss. There you were, a pathetic kid who was too busy writing stories and filming videos with younger kids that you had forgotten to have a first kiss.

You were watching as Tom was playing video games and you hadn’t once asked for the controller. It was one of his free days he had from Billy Elliot, and you weren’t sure why he had invited you.

“Okay, what’s up?” Tom asked, pausing the game.

You didn’t even look at him.

“Y/N, why aren’t you playing?” He pushed

You looked down at your pink chipped nails. “Am I ugly?”

“Yes, next question.”

You sighed. “Tom, I’m serious.”

“I am, too, what’s the deal?” He frowned and then started the game again.

“All my friends have given their first kiss,” you bit your lip. “And I haven’t. Is it because I’m ugly?”

“Well, do you have anyone you could kiss?”

“Well, not really.” You frowned.

He shrugged. “Then you’re ugly and alone.”

You frowned. “Have you had your first kiss?”

“I’ve had girlfriends, y/n.”

“See? You’re ugly and you’ve had your first kiss, it must be something else.”

“Your personality is ugly, too,” he pointed out. “Seems like you’re not gonna have a first kiss, ever.”

“Well I must, someday, don’t you think?”

Tom shrugged.

“Would I be that bad of an option for a kiss?” You asked sincerely.

He paused the game, and coughed. “I mean.”

You raised your brows. “What?”

“Not really.”

“Who was your first kiss? Angela?” You asked, knowing he had a crush on her. “Or another girlfriend?”

“I haven’t kissed anyone,” He admitted. “It’s… scary, you know?”

“How so?”

“I don’t know how to do it.” He blushed. “I...I get nervous just thinking about it.”

“Please, how difficult can it be? You just place your lips together,” you pointed out.

Tom frowned. “What do you know? You’ve never kissed anyone.”

“But I’ve seen movies,” you pointed out. “Look, let’s… watch a movie and maybe you can learn.”

Tom wrinkled his nose. “I’m not watching a movie, y/n, I know how it’s supposed to go.”

“Then why haven’t you done it?”

He frowned. “I dunno.”

You both stayed on the couch with your arms crossed. It seemed like you both knew the answer to your problem but neither of you wanted to address it. You stayed quiet, for a long time, on the edges of the couch, avoiding eye contact.

“Do you think we should-?” Tom asked.

“No.”

“Why not?” Tom frowned.

“Would you?”

“I-No, no.”

“Well,” you gulped. “Or….? Would you kiss me?”

“No…” Tom paused. “Not here on the couch.”

You stayed quiet again.

“I mean,” Tom intruded. “We could go outside.”

“Outside?” You looked at him. “Really?”

“But it would mean nothing, right?” He coughed. “Just so we can say we’ve kissed someone.”

“Yes.”

“Right.”

You both ran to the backyard where you were both sweating nervously. He watched you.

“We can’t tell anyone,” he said.

“No, no, we won’t,” you agreed, nodding quickly.

He took a deep breath watching you.

“Well, get it done already!” You chirped nervously.

He leaned over but giggled and backed away.

You laughed with him. “What?”

“I dunno, what if I ruin it?” Tom asked.

“I wouldn’t know this is my first kiss, too!” You said, nervously. You were getting butterflies in your stomach and you were sure your cheeks were getting red. Tom was made a tomato and he was shaking.

“Okay,” he gulped. “Uh.”

“Wait, but, in movies, the guy… usually holds the girl’s face,” you explained.

He nodded. “Right.”

“And the girl…” You were sure your stomach was going to explode. “Usually has her hand on his neck.”

And before you knew it, you were holding each other.

Tom gulped as he stared at you and you could see each and every freckle on his face.

“Okay, close--close your eyes,” he said as he cupped your face.

You did, and before you could think of it, Tom had placed his lips on yours, and you had pressed yours against his. 5 seconds, that’s how long it had lasted before you both pulled away and pushed each other away.

And you had gotten nervous enough, enough to even get you to run to the bathroom and throw up.

Just like you were about to throw up now.

“So I’m very glad, y/n, you’re very talnted and we’d like to offer a place in here, however, well you might have heard of this, but we’re looking for a fresh new story, we’re talking about giving you a big shot, write a story based on a personal experience, you see the idea of the new series is to make it as human as possible so we’re asking all of you, if we can work on it.”

“Oh, I didn’t know about it,” you lied. “That sounds interesting.”

“Well, it’s anything really, but alright, do you have any ideas to pitch in?” Your boss, Alessandra, asked.

“Right now?”

“Yes, anything. Let’s see that creative side of yours, I’m not telling you to give me the whole story, maybe just a prompt from your life.”

“Hm,” you bit your lip. “I... well, I’ll.... do something about childhood enemies to lovers, maybe.”

“Hm, a classic, happened to you? Did you fall in love with your childhood enemy?”

“I... well,” you cleared your throat. “Not really,” you squeezed your eyes. You were very nervous. “I mean, I’m kind of... trying to make that happen.” You were speaking without even thinking about it.

“Oh, how so?” She raised her brow.

“Well, I was trying to prove to a friend that I could make my enemy fall in love with me and I wouldn’t catch any feelings.”

Alessandra smirked. “I love that, work on it, do it, keep a journal of it, write it, make it entertaining and tell me the results, ooh, I really like that, ”Alessandra grinned as she looked up. She often did that when writing as if she was seeing the picture in her head. “It’d need to have a catchy name... But sounds promising.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yes, it can involve drama, love, humour, it’s perfect, we’ll see, and it’s the best way to hurt an enemy, so chop chop, go do it, I trust you, and we’ll see you in a month, keep a journal of it, remember, thank you y/n.”

You thanked her and did the exact same thing you’d done after giving your first kiss. You ran to the bathroom and threw up.

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anothertimdrakestan · 4 years

Text

Midnight Kisses - Dick Grayson x Reader

Words: 1.3k

Requested? Yes! From the lovely @subtleappreciation and @geekandnerdworld

“Hiiii! May I request a 6 with Dick please?” and “Hey. How are you doing during this major historic moment (which nobody asked for)? Could you please write a fic with Dick from the prompts 1, 6, 12 and 29. Thanks.” (1. pick me, choose me, love me 6. you can’t kiss me all day 12. alcohol does not solve all you proble- 29. dumbass are you drunk??? )

LINK TO PROMPTS -> REQUESTS ARE STILL OPEN!

I LOVE THESE my boi Dick needs some love ;))) Thank you for the wonderful requests and I am doing alright in these wild times thank you for asking. I hope you don’t mind that I combined your requests : ) I hope you enjoy!

A Friday night meant board games and spooning, it was all you looked forward to during the week, texting your boyfriend how much you missed him and couldn’t wait to hangout during your weekends together. That was the way your life had been working, Dick was busy saving lives at night and working during the day and you were working during the day and studying at night - but both of you always cleared your Friday nights and most weekends for each other. It was a small tradition but it was reliable and showed that every week there was room in your life for Dick, and room in his for you.

Sending a quick text then heading over to his apartment. On the way over you got a call from one of Dick’s younger brother, Tim.

“Heyyyyy Y/N so, Dick got in a teensy tiny little fight with Bruce because long story short Damian tried to stab someone and they both wanted to reprimand him differently and it was a whole thing and Dick looked pretty upset when he stormed out so just a warning I know it’s your Friday night date thing”

“How did Damian get a swor- nevermind I know how. Alright, thank you for the warning Timmy I’ll be sure to be extra nice, tell Bruce he’s wrong I don’t even have to know the argument and tell Damian he and I get to have a talk”

“Will do, you’re a lifesaver Y/N!”

And the call ended as you started the walk up three stories of stairs to get to Dick’s apartment. Cursing yourself for falling for a Batboy who enters rooms using grappling hooks to dive through windows and not doors like regular humans you groaned up the stairs, not even stopping to knock you threw open the door. “Honey I’m homeeeee” you called with a giggle, scanning the kitchen and living room for your lovely boyfriend.

You heard a groan coming from his bedroom and the first sight you saw was Dick lying on his bed his lips sealed around a bottle of wine, the bottle was glugging as he swallowed drink after drink, his eyes half closed, nostrils flaring as he took deep breaths between chugs. “Oh Dick what are you doing?” you rushed to his side, pulling the bottle out of his mouth with a ‘pop!’ the red liquid spilling on him before you could turn the bottle right side up.

“Nowo Eiiim Nooot!” Dick’s slur was terrible, as much as he could pretend, he was a lightweight and you assumed the bottle of wine was not his first drink that night. Shaking his shoulder you chastisted him “Dick you dumbass are you drunk?” he smiled lazily, pulling you into his embrace. Placing sloppy kisses along your jaw he hummed as you ruffled his hair. “Rough day, more kisses” he mumbled, leaning into you as you lightly ran your fingers through his hair. “Baby talk to me, Tim called and told me a little” you whispered through his never ending kisses.

“Today is stupid. First off Dami tried to turn a kid into a skewer then Bruce thinks he should ground him! Like obviously there has to be a punishment because Damian but also we need to talk to him and explain why that’s not okay and give him alternative ways to use his anger!” Dick was exasperated, waving his hands in the air. You loved the way he looked after Damian, and after being with Dick for so long you loved Damian too, you’d been adopted into a weird half family and gained three lifelong brothers and the love of your life.

“You’re right Dick, and you’re allowed to be frustrated, but drinking can’t solve all your proble-” Dick stopped you with a long, passionate, kiss. Pulling away you shook your head at him. “You can’t just kiss me all day you drunk” Dick smirked. “Hmm I can and I will!” with one hand he pulled the covers over both of you and pulled you down under them with him. Laying down enveloped in sheets that smelled like Dick snuggled between your boyfriend’s (massive) arms was perfect. You were cupping his face in your hands, eyes boring into each others. “You’re really pretty” Dick whispered, his face just inches from yours. “Very kind of your love bird” you smiled into another kiss.

“Do you love me?” He caught you off guard, “Dickie of course I do! With my whole heart” you kissed his nose, but he still looked slightly upset. “That’s not what Wally said, he said you were using me for this gorgeous body!” Dick gestured to the grease stained shirt and loose sweatpants. “Yeah baby, real gorgeous” you winked. “You love me! No one else” he stated, opening one closed eye to check that you agreed. “You’ve gotta convince me, prove to me that you’re the best boyfriend ever!” you teased, bringing his lips onto yours again.

“Mhm okay, okay! I’ve got it” Dick squealed, springing up out of the bed. Running into his closet you sat up, giggling as he threw clothes backwards like a dramatic movie star. He came out in a black blazer that was very clearly inside out, and he stumbled towards the bed, taking both your hands in his. “My lovely Y/N, you’re the love of my life, so I beg you!” he cleared his throat, pretending to wipe away fake tears, “pick me, choose me, love me” then he gave you the cutest puppy dog eyes ever. “You win! Dear world I choose Richard Grayson as my one and only lover!” he cheered and dove back into bed with you.

“Why are you so goofy when you’re drunk” you teased Dick. With your favorite teasing grin he pulled the bottle of wine off of the side table shaking it mischievously “I drank, you drink, we drunk!” he pushed the bottle towards you making a hilarious face. “D do you really want me to be drinking with you?” he gave you a fake glare. “You drink or I do!” he said cheerfully as you took the bottle from him. “I could drink this, or we could do something else?” with two fingers you traced from his chest up to his cheek, pulling him in for a deep kiss. “Yes, this is what we should be doing!” you laughed, placing the bottle back down, taking a quick swig for courage.

“You know you’re my favorite person right angel?” Dick was drinking in the look of you in his arms. “I love you too Dickie” were the last words you said before he pulled the sheets over your head, completely focussing on you in every way for the rest of the night.

The morning after, you woke up wrapped up Dick’s arms while he snored louder than you thought was humanly possible. He was clutching you tightly to his chest, keeping you completely stuck to his side as he snored in your ear. Starting with a poke, it turned into more of a shove, and developed into a sort of cooing Dick awake. With a deep groan he squeezed you so tight you forgot what the ability to breath was before realizing you, his hands holding his head which you assumed would be pounding after last night’s endeavors.

Grabbing him some water and advil he was sitting up in bed, opening up his arms to cuddle you while he nursed a pounding head. The morning was slow, but serene and comfortable. You and Dick woke up slowly, after a shower and maybe a little throwing up, Dick was back to normal. “I’m gonna go talk to Damian now, wanna come?” Dick had gotten dressed and looked stressed. “Listen to you parent your baby brother and-or son? Absolutely.” you teased Dick, grabbing your purse.

“Have I ever told you you’re my favorite person in the entire world?” Dick quipped as he grabbed his keys.

“Uh yea, do you not remember anything from last night?” You teased.

“To be honest I really don’t”

#dick grayson #dick grayson x you #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x y/n #damian wayne #bruce wayne #batboys #batfam #richard grayson #richard grayson x reader #nightwing #nightwing x reader #batfam x reader #batfam x you #tim drake

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bitters-enthusiast · 4 years

Note

Mc and Julian arguing and then kissing in the rain ;3 idk what that would be called...a starter maybe?

i’ll write you a fic, anon, if that’s what you’re asking of me ;)

Julian woke with the smell of rain wafting throughout the ship. He didn’t mind, really, rain was just an excuse to stay in bed, and also and excuse to make sure he could convince Julianne to do the same. It was the perfect kind of weather to be cozy, and for that, Julian couldn’t complain.

It did, however, escalate into quite the day when the ship was overrun by opposing pirates, who were there to loot the men. It started a lot of fighting, a lot of wounds, and needless to say, Julian was not able to stay in bed. In fact, he found himself also participating in the fights aboard ship, and even found himself in a scramble to help his best friend on board, Gerard, when he’d been stabbed and left vulnerable to a big burly pirate’s mercy. Julianne, to Julian’s dismay, had swooped in in time to distract the brute, and drag him off into a separate fight of their own. Needless to say, this left the doctor rather distraught. He’d even tried to catch her attention every now and again to tell her to go back down below deck, but it was almost as if she ignored him every time.

As he stayed off to the side to heal Gerard’s wounds, Julianne and the other familiar men from their crew fought off the rest of the invaders. It was a given that Julian was upset -- even if he knew that she was helping prevent trouble, he wouldn’t be able to bear it if she’d gotten hurt, or something worse than that.

Once their crew was rid of the the strange, power-hungry men, what followed is what now brought us up to speed.

Julian left his tidied up, aided friend to sit and feel more comfortable as the blood stopped streaming from his wound, and made his way toward Julianne, who was congratulating the other men aboard for what great work they did. Everyone aside from Gerard was only left with scratches, bruises, and nosebleeds alike.

A familiar set of hands grabbed her shoulders from behind -- the wet fabric of her garments did not feel great being pressed against her skin. Julian turned her around to face him, his face set with a frown. Even with the rain pouring down rather hard, it didn’t take a genius to know that he was quite upset.

Julianne folded her arms over her chest and stared up at him. “What is it, Julian? Why are you looking at me like that?” It was hard for her to come up with some quick remark -- she knew he was upset, but she didn’t feel bad for what she did in the slightest.

“You know why, Julianne.” The redhead retorted, his brow furrowed. “How could you put yourself at risk like that? What if I couldn’t have helped you? Do you know how dangerous pirates are??”

Juli scoffed slightly. “Julian, you’re a pirate. You and I both know I wouldn’t just sit idly by in a fight. I needed to help, and that was that. Don’t act surprised.”

The fact that she was able to brush off his worry so easily made Julian tense up more than he already had been. He loved her, sure, he cared about her deeply, but to know the harm that could have come her way made him undoubtedly upset.

“You could have gotten killed. They could have kidnapped you, took you prisoner, used you for whatever sick need they had on their ship --” He sighed, and pinched the skin between his brows. “Julianne, you know the danger you could have gotten into. I don’t need to explain that to you. You’re not dull.”

The woman scoffed in turn. He was acting as if he’d never done anything similar in his life, when in fact he was the poster child for throwing himself into messes he didn’t know whether or not he could get out of. And for him to sit there and scold her as if she were a child? “Kiss my ass, Julian. It’s not about being dull. It’s about helping others, regardless of your own well-being. You’d know that better than anyone. What with your stupid self-sacrificing attitude and whatnot. See, I don’t think I’m going to die. You don’t care whether or not you die.”

Julian was lost for words for a moment. She’d never spoken to him like that before -- that blunt, that harsh. It was something he had to stand in silence for to consider, a hush coming over him for a moment.

“It’s ... it’s different, Juli. I--”

“No. It’s not different. I did something you would have done yourself. The only difference here is that you don’t think I would care if something happened to you. You give little regard as to what anyone thinks and just do whatever comes to you in the moment. That’s exactly what I did. How does it feel to be in my shoes, Ilya?”

Julian’s hands dropped from his face, from her shoulders, and his eyes turned to the side. He could barely bring himself to look at her -- he knew she was right, of course, but how hard was it to admit aloud that he didn’t care for himself?

A sigh passed through his lips, and Julianne only continued.

“I know something bad could have happened to me. But I also know that you’d drop everything in a second to save me if it came to that.”

As the beads of rain ran down his face, Julian turned back to the woman before him. To have been called out so harshly, that wasn’t ideal. But he thought it was what he needed to hear, with an example that set things clear as day. He was so incredibly lucky to have someone he could fight for, to have someone who had become so enraptured and set in his world that they’d fight for him too.

In an overwhelmed state, his hands surged forward once more, taking Julianne’s face into the sopping wet gloves sticking to them, and he leaned in to press a deep kiss to her lips.

The moment lasted a while, neither one of them wanted to pull away at first. But as the rain worsened, it was probably the best idea for them to go somewhere with a roof and dry clothes. And for that reason, Julian pulled back.

“You’re... right. I know that. I really-- Julianne, I care about you so much. I just.. don’t want to see you get hurt. I know that you can handle yourself, it’s... it’s just hard not to worry.”

Julianne gave a small smile, reaching up to lightly pat his cheek. “Come on, you dull doctor, shouldn’t you be the one telling me to stay out of the rain for health’s sake? Let’s go get some dry clothes on.”

Julian chuckled quietly at that -- it was good to know that their argument didn’t last long. “Or maybe just the wet clothes off?”

“Hmm. Didn’t you just warn me that pirates were dangerous? I don’t trust that. Maybe next time.”

A/N

@timmys-and-scribbles @bazzpop THANK U both for the help and the ideas, and thank u timmy for letting me use juli to fulfill fluff needs!!

#julian devorak rp #Julian The Arcana #julian fic #julian devorak #fan apprentice #arcana writing #arcana fic

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petersasteria · 4 years

Text

168 Hours - Haz Osterfield (13)

Pairing: Haz x Reader

Haz Osterfield Masterlist || Ultimate Masterlist || 168 Hours Masterlist

DISCLAIMER: *This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.*

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: In which your son’s wish comes true and it turns horrible. Now, he has to fix it in 168 hours.

Special thanks to: @blueleatherbag and @dudethisvoid for being so helpful

Click the pictures for better quality

𝐎𝐧𝐞 hundred and forty-four hours are now consumed out of one hundred and sixty-eight hours. This means Amadis and Harley only have exactly twenty-four hours left. Today is the day Amadis will be coming home from Prague. If he were being honest, he truly missed Y/N, Harrison, and Harley.

He wouldn't admit it, but he's grown attached to the kid. He missed the times when Harley would wake him up because he was thirsty and wanted a glass of water. He missed the times when he and Harley would stay on the couch and order some take out after a long day. He missed going out with Harley, not knowing what the day may hold. He missed everything.

"You won't be an ocean away, you will only be a moment away..."

Amadis turns around and gives Saint Thomas Aquinas a dirty look. Saint Thomas Aquinas shrugged, "It seemed appropriate for your mood. Just that lyric, anyway."

"He's right." Saint Christopher pipes up as he fixes his hair in the mirror. "You'll be with Harley in just a few hours. How will you greet him when you get back?"

"I don't know, to be honest." Amadis sighs. "Besides, I don't even know how I'll tell him the news."

"Oh." Saint Thomas Aquinas says. "I forgot about that."

"Harley will be truly devastated." Saint Christopher frowns.

"Exactly!" Amadis huffs. "There's truly no easy way for me to tell Harley that his hero is actually a villain."

"No easy way indeed." Saint Thomas Aquinas says.

"Anyway, let's go." Saint Christopher says. "Saint Maria Goretti asked me to go with her somewhere as a favor."

"She's a legendary story." Amadis says as he takes his backpack and puts it on. "Imagine being stabbed fourteen times!"

"She's so brave to forgive Alessandro like that." Saint Thomas Aquinas says as he glanced at Saint Christopher, "Please give that child my regards. Tell her she's been missed by me, but I'm sure she's having fun with her friends right now as we speak. That kid is like a family member of mine."

At only eleven years old, Saint Maria Goretti died in the hands of her next door neighbor, Alessandro Serenelli. She was stabbed fourteen times after he tried to rape her. Alessandro was twenty at that time. Little Maria forgave him on her deathbed and now, she's considered the patron saint of the youth.

"May God bless her." Amadis says. He takes a deep breath and holds on to Saint Christopher's shoulder. "I'm ready to go."

Saint Christopher nods. Saint Thomas Aquinas grabs Saint Christopher's arm and in just a blink of an eye, they're back in London, on the rooftop of the apartment building where Amadis and Harley are staying at.

"Thanks, Saint Christopher. I'll be looking forward to have another trip with you." Amadis smiles and embraces his new friend. He pulls away and hugs Saint Thomas Aquinas too. The two saints could clearly see that Amadis is in a hurry to see Harley again. After all, their time together is almost up.

"There is nothing on this earth more to be prized than true friendship." Saint Thomas Aquinas calls out causing Amadis to turn around to face him.

"What?"

Saint Thomas Aquinas laughs, "It's one of my quotes, dude."

"Yes, I'm aware. But why are you saying it?" Amadis asks.

"You seem to really care about Harley. He's lucky to have you on his side; you're his true friend. Now, go to him. I'm sure he's excited to see you just as much." Saint Thomas Aquinas says.

"Hey, let's all take a photo together! I don't know when I'll see you again and I don't know when I'll get back here on earth." Amadis says as he pulls out his phone from his pocket. They squeeze in together and Amadis takes the photo.

"Thank you." He says after taking it. He turns to leave the two saints.

"Good luck!" Saint Christopher says.

Amadis rushes downstairs. Upon reaching the floor of his unit, he frantically knocks on the door. While waiting, he posts his picture with the saints on Instagram.

The door opens and Amadis quickly puts his phone in his pocket. He looks up and sees Harrison with a smile on his face. "Welcome home, man!" Harrison greets and pulls him in for a hug.

Amadis hugs back and asks, "Where's Harley?"

"In the room. He's getting dressed for the day." Harrison says as he pulls away. Amadis fully enters the apartment and Harrison closes the door. "Your friend, Finn, dropped off your daily allowance just now. It's on the counter."

"Thank you!" Amadis says as he puts his backpack down. "How was everything while I was gone?"

"Alright." Harrison shrugs. "Nothing out of the ordinary. Although, Y/N and I couldn't babysit Harley yesterday, so I asked Timmy if he could watch him and he agreed. They had fun apparently. Harley was sad that their day ended yesterday."

Amadis nodded, "Tell your friend I said thank you. Anyway-"

"AMADIS!" Harley shouts as he runs to him and gives him the biggest hug. Amadis would've slightly pushed him away if it were someone else, but he didn't. Amadis hugs him tight and says, "I've missed you!"

"I've missed you too." Harley chuckles and pulls away. "Dad made breakfast and it's on the table." Harley walks to the couch and watches tv.

Amadis turns to Harrison and chortles, "Dad?"

"I'm shocked too." Harrison chuckles and whispers, "The other day, he called Y/N, 'mum' by accident."

"Ooh, interesting." Amadis nods and makes his way to the dining area.

"Um, Amadis. I have to leave now. My other job wants me at work." Harrison says with a sad smile. "I'll miss both of you a lot!"

"Same here and thank you! We'll keep in touch." Amadis says. It's obviously a lie, but he didn't want to explain the really long story as to why he and Harley won't be keeping in touch.

"Of course! You know my number and if you want to drop Harley off, I'll text you my home address and the places I work at."

"That'll be very convenient, thank you." Amadis says. "Harley, say goodbye to Harrison!"

Harleys gets up from the couch and runs to Harrison to give him a hug, "Bye! I'll see you soon."

'Real soon, dad. Real soon. We'll be together again... in the right year, this time.' Harley thinks.

"I'll see you soon and behave, little guy!" Harrison pulls away and ruffles Harley's hair before thanking Amadis for letting him stay at the apartment and leaving.

"How was Prague? Did my uncle Tom do something cool?!" Harley asks excitedly.

Amadis slightly frowns and clears his throat, "Harley, there's something you have to know. I think it's best if you sit down for this."

Harley looks at him curiously, but sits down next to him anyway. Amadis looks at Harley and runs his fingers through Harley's hair before lightly patting his shoulder, "Your uncle Tom... he did something bad."

"What did he do?" Harley asks. "He's my hero! Heroes can't do bad things."

"Yes, but maybe he isn't actually a hero." Amadis says softly. "He cheated."

"...On a test?" Harley asks innocently.

"N-No, he, uh... he wasn't faithful to Y/N. He, um..." Amadis stammers. He didn't know how to explain what Tom did to a ten year old boy. Amadis struggles to find the right words, but Harley seemed to catch on.

"Do you mean that he dated someone else in Prague?" Harley asks again.

'Not exactly dated. He had sex with someone else, but I don't want to corrupt your innocent mind.' Amadis thinks.

"Yes, he dated someone else. It's wrong because he's engaged to Y/N. They're getting married tomorrow."

"So... he hurt my mommy's feelings?" Harley's bottom lip starts to quiver and Amadis knew that in a few seconds, Harley would start crying.

"...Yes, he did. Heroes don't do that, Harley." Amadis says. As predicted, Harley begins to cry. Amadis immediately wraps his arms around Harley and tries to calm him down.

"He's still the same person, alright? He's still the same man who buys you gifts, who takes you to different places, who buys you food, and who hangs out with you. I believe that people change over time and the uncle Tom that you know is a changed man and I believe that." Amadis coaxes as Harley cries even more.

"Yeah, but he still hurt my mum's feelings. It's not okay." Harley sniffs and cries even more.

Amadis didn't know what to do. He never encountered a crying child before. For now, all he could do was hold him and whisper sweet things in his ear in hopes to make him feel better.

𝐀 𝐋𝐔𝐗𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐋 𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐍...

Y/N is sitting alone in her hotel room as she relaxes. After all, tomorrow's her wedding day and she needs to rest so that she'll be good to go for tomorrow. She watches a random show on tv as she sits on the couch with her feet propped up on the coffee table. She has a flute of champagne in hand and a bowl of strawberries on her lap. They were, of course, sent by Tom from his room.

They were told that it was bad luck for both of them to be together before the wedding. Hence, the different rooms. Y/N wasn't complaining, though. She needed a break from Tom. Even for just a short time.

Just as she's about to change the channel, her phone rings. She looks at it and her eyebrows furrow to see that it's an unknown number. "That's weird. I don't remember giving my number to anyone." She says out loud.

Despite not knowing who's calling her, she answers her phone anyway. Tom wouldn't allow her, but Tom wasn't with her right now. So, she answers.

"Hello?"

"Hi! Is this, uh, is this Y/N?" The person asks.

"Who's this?" Y/N asks.

"I'm Tom's friend, Chloe." She says. "Is this Y/N?"

"Yes, speaking." Y/N says as she mutes the tv. "Tom's never mentioned you before, actually. How do you- how do you know each other? And more importantly, how did you get my number?"

"I have something really important to say, so I'll answer those quickly." Chloe says. "Tom and I used to be fuck buddies and I got your number from Brad."

"Whoa, whoa, wait. Fuck buddies?!" Y/N shrieks.

"Yes, but that's not the point. We stopped when he met you. Anyway, I have something to tell you." Chloe says.

"Okay. What is it?" Y/N asks.

"Tom cheated on you in Prague." Chloe sighs.

"I'm sorry, what?" Y/N says in shock.

"It's true. He was bragging to me about it. Knowing him, he wouldn't man up and tell you. So, I figured that as women, we should look after each other and that meant telling you this information. I'm so sorry, Y/N." Chloe says sadly. "Are you alright?"

"The person I'm engaged to cheated on me while he was on vacation and our wedding is tomorrow. Do you think I'm alright, Chloe? I feel so betrayed and heartbroken." Y/N cries.

"If there's anything I can do to make you feel better, I'm right here. You can save my number. Tom's an ass." Chloe huffs angrily.

"Thanks for, uh, telling me." Y/N sniffs. "I appreciate it. I'll call you back, okay?"

"Oka-"

Y/N hangs up and cries hysterically. She's hurt and heartbroken. She doesn't know who else to turn to. Saoirse would just tell her to suck it up and her parents would freak out. Her dad would definitely kill Tom and she didn't want anyone to die or commit a murder. So, she calls the only person she could talk to; one who won't judge. Her new friend, Harrison.

She clicks on his contact and calls him. It rings a bunch of times and she heavily sighs, "Please pick up."

Just as she's about to hang up, Harrison answers, "Hey Y/N! I'm sorry for not answering fast enough. I went to the bathroom and-"

"No, no, no. It's okay. It's, uh, it's fine." She smiles a bit despite the tears streaming down her face. "I'm just glad you answered."

"Well, I'm glad you called." Harrison smiles. "I actually thought we'd never talk to each other again."

"Really? How come?" She asks and wipes her tears.

"Well, let's just say that your future husband strikes as the jealous type... and he's kinda not... nice." Harrison bites his lip as he sits comfortably on the couch, waiting for Timmy to come home so he can confront him on why the dishwasher is broken again.

"That's actually a nice way to say it." She chuckles lightly. "He's not nice at all."

"Why? Is he beating you up or something?" Harrison's eyebrows furrow as his anger rises. "Did that bastard hit you? Did he make you do something you didn't want to do? I can come down there and give him a piece of my mind! I'll, uh, I'll bring back up. Timmy's gonna be home in a minute."

"Harrison-"

"You can stay with me and Timmy and if you're not comfortable, I'm sure Amadis and Harley can make you stay there. I'll help you pack. And to think that your wedding is tomorrow! The nerve of that bastard!"

"Harrison!"

"Yeah?"

"He's not beating me up. Thank god, he doesn't. He's not violent. He didn't make me do something I don't want to." She sighs. Before she knew it, tears start streaming down her face again.

"Then what's wrong, love?" Harrison asks softly. "You can tell me anything, right?"

She holds back her sobs and nods even though he couldn't see her. She takes a deep breath and says, "He cheated on me while he was in Prague." After saying that, she lets out the sob that she's been holding back and Harrison's heart breaks upon hearing it.

"I-I know this is a stupid question, but I'll ask anyway. How are you feeling?" Harrison asks. Harrison stays silent as he listens to Y/N's cries on the other line. "If you don't want to talk, it's fine. I can-"

"I want to talk! I do. It's just- It's really hard to accept that he had the nerve to cheat on me days before we sign up the rest of our lives." Y/N sniffs. "Can I- Is it alright if I come over?"

"Oh, sure!" Harrison says. As soon as he says that, Timmy comes in and with furrowed eyebrows. "You can come over, Y/N."

"Are you kidding me?! I just got home!" Timmy whisper-yells. "You're inviting your girlfriend as second I walk through the door?! Come on, man."

"Shut up!" Harrison mouths.

"Thank you. Text me your address. I'd invite you here, but I'm not at home and I'm staying at this stupid, but fancy hotel."

Harrison chuckles, "Okay. I'll see you in a bit, yeah?"

"Yeah. Bye." Y/N sniffs and hangs up. Harrison immediately texts Y/N his address and turns to Timmy who's taking off his shoes and walking to the small kitchen.

"Why is the dish washer broken, Tim?" Harrison calls out.

"It's not my fault! It just broke." Timmy explains and emerges from the kitchen with a bottle of cold water. He sits next to Harrison and says, "You gotta stop blaming me for things, man. It's not cool."

"I'm not blaming you. I'm asking you." Harrison corrects. "If you think I'm blaming you, you must be guilty."

"Wow, lawyer of the year!" Timmy rolls his eyes. "Are we seriously fighting about the dish washer again?! It's always breaking. Let's just get a new one."

The doorbell rings and Harrison gets up to open the door. He smiles sadly when he sees Y/N. She gives him a small smile and says, "Turns out, it's just a few turns from the hotel I'm staying at."

"Come in." Harrison opens the door wider and Y/N walks in. She looks at Timmy and walks up to him and offers a handshake, "Hi, I'm Y/N."

Timmy shakes her hand, "I'm Timothée, but call me Timmy. Any friend of Haz is a friend of mine. Come sit." Timmy pats the space next to him and Y/N sits down.

"I take it, you're here for girl talk." Timmy says.

"Timmy, don't be rude." Harrison hisses and walks to the kitchen to get a glass of water for her.

"He's right." Y/N says. She turns to Timmy and smiles, "I just found out that my fiancé cheated on my while he was in Prague. It was only a few days ago."

"Oh, yikes. I'm sorry to hear that." Timmy frowns. Harrison enters with a glass of water for Y/N and she thanks him before taking a sip of water.

"I relate, though. I've been cheated on too." Timmy huffs. "Haz got cheated on too. I guess that's why we're such good friends."

"Yeah, Colette was her name." Harrison says bitterly. "She apologized, though. I forgave her."

"Why?" Y/N asks.

"Because forgiving is the biggest act anyone could ever do." Timmy answers. "I told him that. Forgiving takes a lot of courage and it's not always easy."

"That's true." Y/N nods. Timmy stands up and says, "I'll leave both of you to it. I'm tired and I'm opening the shop tomorrow."

"Timmy works at this fancy café where rich people eat." Harrison mentions as Timmy walks to his room.

"Oh, I see." Y/N nods. They sit in silence for a while and Harrison clears his throat, "So, what'll happen?"

"I'm not sure." Y/N sighs. "I've always felt that our relationship was failing, but I didn't expect him to cheat on me."

"If your relationship was failing, why are you still with him then?" Harrison asks her. She shrugs, "I honestly don't know. I love him. No, I loved him."

"So, you don't love him anymore? Is that it?"

"I'm not even sure anymore. I still care about him. After all, he did take care of me and he did a good job in taking care of me. I will forever be grateful for that. And the media isn't always right. They always portray him as this arrogant fucker just because he's young, but he's so much more than that."

"Oh?"

"Mhm." Y/N nods. "He's passionate about his job. He takes care of his employees. He covers for them in front of his father. He's not an attention seeker, I'll tell you that. He's just used to the attention. That's why it ticks him off when people aren't paying attention to him. He never wanted to be a CEO, because he wanted to be an actor and he still does."

"That's why he's bitter all the time, but he's a good guy. Err, he can be a good guy. But after hearing that information, maybe he's just so good at acting like a good guy. It's a shame, though. My heart used to be just set on him and now- now, I don't know. I'm not sure. It's complicated."

Harrison doesn't say anything. He just listens. They stay quiet for a minute or so and Harrison breaks the silence, "Where's your heart now?"

"You want an honest answer?" She lets out a breathy laugh. Harrison nods, "Yeah."

"My heart's with you." Y/N looks at him and smiles. "It's been with you for awhile now and I don't think it wants to leave. I think it wants to stay because I think we might have a shot if we tried."

"Are you saying... you like me?" Harrison asks carefully.

She nods, "Yeah, I do. I don't think I'll stop."

"I like you too." Harrison says.

"I sense a 'but' coming."

"But-"

"Hm, I was right."

Harrison chuckles, "But you're engaged and your wedding's tomorrow. We can't do anything about it. What made you admit that you like me?"

"Aside from the fact that you asked? Well, it was simple. You answered the phone awhile ago and from that moment, I knew that I was with the wrong person all this time. What about you? What made you admit your feelings?" Y/N asks.

"You were crying on the phone and I realized that I wanted to be there for through everything. The good, the bad, and the ugly. I want to love you and hold you and do all those cheesy stuff with you, but that's Tom's job. I'll still be here, though. I'll be your friend and your shoulder to cry on." Harrison says.

"I wish things could be different." She sighs and holds his hand.

"Same here."

She lets go of his hand and stands up, "I better get going. I need to get up early tomorrow."

"Right." Harrison stands up too. "Big day tomorrow. I'll walk you to your car."

"Thank you."

Harrison grabs his keys to the apartment in case he gets locked out again by accident. They quietly walk to the elevator and they stay silent the whole ride down. They reach Y/N's car which was parked outside the building. She unlocks the door and gets in the car. She sits there and rolls down her window to look at Harrison, "Hey Harrison?"

"Call me Haz." He chuckles. "We've known each other for, like, a week. Call me by my nickname."

"Okay, Haz." She smiles. "Um, I know this is kind of informal. But I'd like to personally invite you to the wedding tomorrow. I would love for you to be there. You mean something to me, Haz."

He smiles, "As much as I love to be there, I can't. I have errands to run tomorrow and I think Timmy and I need a new dishwasher. So, I'll shop for that."

"Oh. That's alright." She frowns slightly. "I'll miss you tomorrow."

"I'll miss you too and I hope you get things straightened out with Tom. He's such a... man."

"He's not you, though." Y/N says.

"You've known me for a week and you've known him for years. Besides, he can give you a better life and I can't even get a permanent job. He can give you so many opportunities and when you have kids, they'll be secured for the rest of their lives."

"He's still not you." Y/N states. "Where does this leave us?"

"Friends that like each other who aren't together, but they have a special place in the other's heart." Harrison answers. "I'd settle with that instead of nothing."

"Same here, I guess." Y/N trails off. "I'll go now. Wish me luck for tomorrow."

"I shall." Harrison smiles.

Y/N starts the car and drives away. Harrison stands there and watches until her car disappears when she turns a corner. He walks back inside the building and goes up to his shared apartment with Timmy. As soon as he opens the door, Timmy stands there with his arms crossed.

"You're still awake?"

"Yes, and you're making a big mistake?" Timmy retorts. "I have this feeling that she's the one for you, y'know. Both of you are good to Harley too. You're like a real family."

"Thanks, but she has Tom. They'll start a family soon." Harrison says and sits on the couch. "I like her a lot, Timmy."

"I know you do."

"It's too late. She'll be Mrs. Holland tomorrow." Harrison sighs. "Here's another heartbreak."

"I'm sorry, man." Timmy frowns.

'I'm too late.' Harrison thinks.

Or is he?

* * * *

𝐇𝐀𝐙 𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐃 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @abrielleholland @silencetheslaves @imeanlifesabitshit @joyleenl @hjoficrecs @blueleatherbag @poguesholland @harryismysunflower @justanothermarvelmaniac @lonikje @lizzyosterfield @itstaskeen @ilarbu @turtoix @badreputationlove @starlight-starks @swiftmind @sovereignparker @pearce14 @justanamesstuff @chewymoustachio

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @marvelousell @justasmisunderstoodasloki @rubberducky-jrr @petersholland @osterfieldnholland @miraclesoflove @god-knows-what-am-i-doing @perspectiveparker @hollands-weasley @itstaskeen @call-me-baby-gir1 @the-panwitch @iamaunicorn4704 @chloecreatesfictions @holland-styles @halfblood-princess-505 @spidey-reids-2003 @whatthefuckimbisexual @justanothermarvelmaniac @unsaidholland @musicalkeys @hollandscherie @lost-in-the-stars03 @hufflepuffprincess24

#harrison osterfield #harrison osterfield fanfiction #harrison osterfield fanfic #harrison osterfield fic #haz osterfield #haz osterfield fanfiction #haz osterfield fanfic #haz osterfield fic #harrison osterfield x reader #harrison osterfield x y/n #haz osterfield x reader #haz osterfield x y/n #in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh

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