#+ it’s looking like it will hopefully happen!!!
Note
heyyyy ryyyyy <333
since ur requests are open i thought id go ahead and ask if you're mayhaps open to anything for batmom? i don't have a completely solid idea but maybe smn like batmom has been getting threats or maybe hate or smn from somebody and everyone's reactions and how they get hella protective?
obv no pressure and you definitely do not have to write this
hope you have a great day bb
Heyyyyy, so this grew hands and wrote itself, I hope you enjoy it. It did end up with a lot of backstory.
Earned Position
5.3k words
You knew this would happen. Once your relationship with Bruce got out there would be an influx of love and hate. You also knew that everyone else knew that as well. It was common knowledge than anyone around a celebrity of sorts would experience that.
Of course you did the normal things, turned off most notifications and only looked through areas online you knew would mostly be safe. You blocked tags and and only followed people you knew or ones who didn’t post about drama.
When you did stumble onto hate, you moved on. If someone kept sending you nasty messages you blocked them, when they made other accounts to keep sending the same things, you changed your settings so only those you followed could message you.
It wasn’t something you wanted to deal with but it was something you could handle. Something you started mentally preparing yourself for when Bruce’s attention on you lasted more than 4 dates, even more so when you caught yourself daydreaming about him.
You were not going to let random bitter people on the internet destroy your happiness like they did their own. Your family however, wanted to destroy what was left of your haters' happiness. Something you were trying to curb, but trying to tell a family of vigilantes who considered you the best mom in existence not to destroy your haters was like talking to a brick wall. Over the years, you had gotten used to it. It barely even registered anymore. But there had been a recent influx of the hate and while it didn’t bother you, it bothered the rest of your family. None of them could stand people talking bad about their mom.
While you hadn’t been there while the older ones were young, the second you had introduced yourself to them, you had taken a very important role in their lives. None of them realizing it at first. All of them had gotten used to the random women Bruce brought home that it took a little while for them to realize how important you were.
Dick wasn’t sure at first. Thinking you were just another girlfriend that wouldn’t last long. So he didn’t really interact with you much. Ignoring your existence when it wasn’t too rude, or at least obviously rude. Until one night when he was staying at the manor and had a nightmare about his parents death.
Bruce had an open bed policy. As long as there was still room for him, his bed was open. A policy he had started when Dick had gotten old enough he was worried he wouldn’t be allowed to go when he had a nightmare. Bruce had always reminded all his kids, that nightmares don’t go away just because you’re older and that needing comfort wasn’t something they would outgrow.
The thing was, you were there. Girlfriends didn’t mind when children did it but they never liked it when his adult kids did it. The shaking in his hands and the way he saw them fall in the darkness of every blink told him the only way he was getting any sleep was with someone.
Hopefully he could just slip into Bruce’s side and leave before you woke up. That was the plan until he found Damian on Bruce’s side and you had been pulled closer to Bruce taking up what was left. You moved a little and Dick took that as his sign to deal with it himself until he heard you whisper his name. He hummed so you knew it was him and not some random stranger standing over Bruce’s side of the bed.
“Nightmare?”
“Yeah.”
“Come on.” You lifted the blanket next to you, “Bruce told me you guys come here when you have nightmares. There's plenty of room over here for you.” Dick hesitated for a second before giving in. He needed sleep anyway. You weren’t when you said there was plenty of room, Dick had most of your half of the bed. Once he had settled on his side, facing away from you, he felt you pull the blanket over his shoulders.
“Night Dick, sleep well.” For some reason, that was what did it. Once the tears started they didn’t stop. Silent sobs made him shudder and he felt one of your hands gently rubbing his back. “Oh Dick.” There was no pity in your tone and he found himself rolling over and curling into you. Your chin resting on his head while you rubbed his back.
The next day, he followed you around like a puppy. Your side of the bed became his favorite when he had nightmares and it wasn’t long before he turned to you for general comfort over anything.
Jason met you at his grave. Neither of you exchanged words, but he caught something in your gaze he didn’t quite understand. He also wasn’t sure why you were at his grave either, he didn’t know you when he was younger.
When he saw the Gotham News post about Bruce and Your 2nd anniversary, it brought more questions than answers. Why were you at his grave alone? Let alone longer than a few seconds. It was an odd way to gain more of Bruce’s affections.
Every Tuesday you would be there, leaving flowers and talking softly to the stone. Every time you left, you would smile and nod, the look in your eyes he couldn’t figure out was still there. Every time he would strain to heat what you were saying and only be able yo a few words here and there.
6 months into it, the routine changed. You brought a blanket and Basket with your usual flowers. You did what you normally did with the flowers but instead of talking to the stone you waved him over. When he didn’t move, you stopped what you were doing and looked at him.
“Jason Todd, I have been keeping your secret for 6 months. Helping me spread this blanket and having lunch won’t change it.” He stared at you while you waited expectantly. Eventually when he could get himself to move, he came over and helped. He sat down where you motioned for him too, all while trying to figure out how you knew.
“Bruce mentioned this used to be your favorite when you were younger so I asked Alfred to teach me how to make it. I hope it's up to your standards.” He looked at the plate of food you handed him. It was almost overflowing with food, all of which reminded him of the good times back at the manor before he died. “Alfred also sent your favorite cookies when he heard I would be eating at your grave.” The bag of cookies was placed next to the basket, within easy reach.
“Why?” Was all Jason managed to choke out around the lump in his throat.
“I decided early on in life, no matter who I was with, I would love their family as my own. My grandfather hated my grandmothers side and it caused a lot of pain in all the generations. I decided I would never do that to another family.” Jason found himself back in control enough to start eating.
“So when I started dating Bruce and he told me about you, I decided to treat you like you were my own. Even though I had never met you and you were dead. Most of what that meant was keeping your grave clean and always making sure there were fresh flowers. While I did that, I would tell you everything that was going on.”
“How did you know it was me?”
“Your eyes, they may be a different color but they looked too similar. So I did a little digging and found pictures of your biological pictures to place the face shape it matched. I think however you look more like Bruce then either of them.”
“Are you going to tell them?”
“As much as I would love to. It’s your choice. You’ve been keeping this to yourself for a reason. If I can help you get to a place to tell them, I would love to. But I won’t say a word until you're ready. However, I would like to keep having lunch with you.”
A year later, Jason reintroduced himself to the rest of the family a lot calmer than originally planned and was glued to your side anytime he felt overwhelmed that night. Every Tuesday after that, lunch was scheduled.
Tim was nervous when it came to you. He was still living in the manor so he saw you more than the older two. You always seemed nice and respected his privacy but Bruce was always with you so you obviously would.
It was when he wasn’t around that worried Tim. Bruce attracted golddiggers and they were always mean when Bruce wasn’t there. When you were given a copy of the key, Time braced himself.
Of course he knew that if he told Bruce anything that happened like that, Bruce would break it off. He had always told them that they came first. But he also knew that Bruce liked you a lot. All the other ones Bruce liked a lot that turned out to be horrible, he broked it off. Tim had seen how it had made him upset and he really hated doing that to him. Maybe he could deal with it for once.
So when Bruce left for a business trip, Tim was Expecting the worst. What he didn’t expect was for you to knock on his door and ask if you could join him. When he agreed and stepped back so you could come in. He expected you to go to his bed or his desk chair not, the oversized bean bag on the floor.
“I have a question for you but you can’t tell Bruce yet.” Here it comes. “What would a funny way to tell him I know he’s Batman?” Tim wasn’t expecting that one. “I was thinking a lot of batpuns but his paranoia is too bad for that.”
“How did you figure it out?” You walked him through your process and didn’t say anything as he wrote parts of it down. Once you finished explaining the process for Bruce, you explained any way it was modified in figuring out their identities.
“Who do you think I am?”
“Red Robin.” Tim found himself getting excited.
“You know those notes you leave him in his office?” You nodded. “You should leave those in the Batcave.” You considered it but your thinking was interrupted but Tim shouting.
“No! One night when we’re all in the cave, you could bring some snacks!”
“You just want snacks when he’s lecturing you don’t you?”
“Maybe..”
“Alright, but you have to tell the others so they can tell me what snack they want.”
So Tim slowly and carefully went through all his siblings, letting them know you figured it out, Bruce didn’t know, and what the plan is. Every time he relayed a snack to you he’d watch how carefully you’d write it out to make sure you had it correct or look up recipes if you couldn’t find it in stores.
Two weeks later, Tim was the one who sent the signal in the middle of a lecture everyone was receiving and he got a front row seat to see Bruce’s face when you walked in and handed out snacks before giving him a kiss and telling him to be nice and leaving.
Any other worries were left in the dust when you helped him win the nerf war for the best seat in the home theater. He thoroughly enjoyed his spot next to you while Bruce swore revenge from the other side of the room.
Damian treated you politely but that was it. His mother was still alive and he didn’t want another one, one was more than enough. Not only that, but you were weird.
One time when you were over, you found one of his report cards. Immediately you were praising him. He didn’t understand why, he had basically failed one of his classes with an A-. You should be disappointed like his mother would be, not hanging it up on the fridge and telling people not to touch it. Definitely not taking him out for ice cream and calling him so smart. He definitely shouldn’t be feeling any pride when he walked past it, but he still was.
When he was practicing his violin and Messed up, you were supposed to tell him to stop failing, that he should be better. Not smiling at him and telling him he’s making good progress. You should be telling him that he should have memorized that piece in a day. He shouldn’t be feeling any pride when he finally does memorize it, it took him 4 days to learn it.
When he was struggling to learn a language, you were supposed to tell him to work harder. He could do better, after all, he already knew so many. Instead you just smiled and recommended a break to refresh his mind.
When he snapped at you in Arabic, he expected you to be upset since you didn’t know what he said and it was obviously not something nice. Instead you set the rule that if he was going to use Arabic to speak to you when upset, that he had to teach it to you and if what he said wasn’t something you had learned yet, he had to tell you in english. When he told you what it meant, you didn’t even get upset. He definitely shouldn’t be as excited as he was when you actually started learning.
So many more little things piled up, leaving Damian confused. The differences between how you and his mother treated him was so big he didn’t know how to process it, he liked you and all the little things made him happy in a way he hadn’t really felt. But he still loved his mom, When he had enough of it, he asked you to stop. He still wanted to love his mom. Once again, you did something you weren’t supposed to.
“Oh Damian, I’m not trying to replace your mom nor am I trying to make you feel like you can’t love her or she doesn’t love you. Your mom and I show our love in different ways and its ok for you to love or like both of us. You mother loves you and she will always be allowed in your life if thats what you want.” You weren’t supposed to do that, but Damian was really glad you did.
Barbara wasn’t sure how you would react to her. She wasn’t just Bruce’s kid. She had a loving family she went back to every night. Most people weren’t really a fan of that, one of Bruce’s past girlfriends had some strong and hurtful things to say about it.
When you took her for a day out, she found herself warming up to you but still waiting for the other shoe to drop. One of the new places you had planned to go, didn’t have wheelchair access. Like all the other girlfriends who had done this, she expected you to be annoyed that your plans had to change or you would just leave her outside while you shopped.
You didn’t seem to notice her hesitation, just looking at what was next on your list and starting the trip there. When Barbara stared a little longer at a new movie that was in theaters, tickets and snacks were bought and you listed to all the lore she told you about before it started.
While it had been a nice day, Barbara wasn’t convinced. One day was easy to fake. Sure she had lots of fun, but Barbara was used to fakes when it came to Bruce’s girlfriends. Of course she wasn’t complaining about you being nice, she just wasn’t sure how long it would last.
“Did you hear about that boutique?” She looked up from her food to look at her dad. “That new one that you tried to go to with Bruce’s girlfriend? Well there was a report that it didn’t meet the Americans with Disabilities act and the boutique is in trouble. People are speculating they’ll have to close down.”
Later that night, Barbara looked into it. They were in trouble, pretty big trouble from the looks of it. Towards the end of the article she found the name of the person who reported it, she wasn’t sure who she was expecting. Not you for sure but the Name Y/n L/n took her by surprise and filled her chest with feelings she couldn’t describe.
The boutique ended up closing but a new one opened. Once it was open, you were the first to ask her to go. That weird feeling came back when she wheeled herself up the ramp and through the door you held open for her. Later that night, in the privacy of her room. She decided she liked you.
Steph seemed like she liked you, she acted like she liked you, she didn’t really like you. Sure you were nice, Bruce loved you, the others were warming up to you, but she wasn’t sure how to feel about you. So she stuck with not actually liking you but pretending to.
So when she was around you, it was all smiles and jokes. She wasn’t a big fan of it all but she did it because she knew you were important to Bruce and that was enough of a reason for her. She knew Bruce and the others could see through the act but as long as you couldn’t, that was enough.
When Bruce announced he had to leave for a business trip right before she could hand him the parents visit for one of her AP classes, something the new teacher liked doing. She tucked the paper away. When Tim gave her a questioning look, she shook her head and later swore him to silence.
Every time she heard someone mention their parents were going, she felt a pang of jealousy in her chest. Every time Tim mentioned bringing it up to you, she swore him into silence again. It wouldn’t be the first time no one showed up for her. She was however thankful you wouldn’t be at the manor as much so she didn’t have to pretend to like you.
When the day arrived, Steph was not having a good day. School dragged on slowly. Slower than normal. When school finally ended, she had to sit in the classroom and watch everyone else that was in her class leave and the parents of her classmates show up while no one was there or coming for her.
Someone sat in the seat next to her, she expected another family member of one of her classmates. Definitely not you. She couldn’t return your smile, too unsure of how you found out, the fact you actually showed up, and how she felt about you being there. You leaned a little closer so that the others in the room wouldn’t easily overhear.
“I know I’m not your parent and someone you just pretend to like so if you want me to leave I will. But I figured someone was better then no one. Oh, and Tim wanted me to tell you he didn’t spill. Your teacher called the manor because no one had RSVPed for you and I answered it.”
That night, as Steph showed off all her hard work to you, the charade fell. She actually enjoyed her time with you and the boost of pride as you oohed and ahhed over all her projects and listened to her explain all the little details. That night, Steph realized, she didn’t need to keep pretending. She liked you, until she found out you didn’t like her favorite show but a nerf war solved that.
Cass could tell you were different then the other girlfriends, your body language as you interacted with all of them showed it. However that didn’t mean she knew how to interact with you.
She had learned that she was fairly hard for new people to interact with. She also knew she had trouble interacting with people she wasn’t fighting. So it wasn’t a surprise when it started rocky.
What was a surprise, was when you found out she was still having trouble reading and writing, you stepped in to help. Well, that wasn’t the surprising part, a lot of girlfriends did that. The surprising part was the amount of patience you had when it was only the two of you.
When one method didn’t help, you tried another. Never once did you snap at her or call her a name. Everytime you got frustrated you would stop and look at her, say something along the lines of “If I had as much trouble with this as you do, I wouldn’t want to keep trying. You're doing absolutely amazing! I’ll keep looking for other ideas, but for now, lets take a break and get a treat.”
Cass wasn’t sure why that always made her feel better, but it did. Every treat you brought was something you made just for the tutoring sessions and it always reminded her of what Alfred had told her once. “Something made with love for you will always taste better.”
And when a method that made it a little easier to learn was found, Cass found herself smiling along with your cheers. Bad days where she couldn’t seem to make any progress were always met with the same excitement, cheers, patience, and treats that all the others were.
Cass still wasn’t sure of what to think of you exactly, but she knew she liked you and that you cared about her.
So when Tim saw the new rise in hate, a sibling meeting was called. They all went through each site, blood boiling as they saw what people were saying about their new parent. Plans were made, declarations of war were ready, and anger fueled all of them. Bruce could tell something was going on, but he wasn’t sure what it was and as long as it didn’t get out of had, he wasn’t sure if he had the energy to deal with it.
War was declared in an interview by Steph. The lady was asking questions when the topic switched to Bruce, then you. The reporter was clearly trying to subtly find some dirt on you and Steph was not going to stand for it.
“Oh yeah! Y/n! She’s the best!” She put on her best press face. Trying to hide her anger over the hidden intent. She didn’t have to lie or act when talking about you but the change in the lady’s face going to disappointment when she didn’t get anything she wanted was making her look very punchable.
“She’s always showing up for us and making sure we’re doing ok. If Y/n and Bruce were to break up, I think most of us would go with Y/n.” The way the lady kept trying to get anything really got on her nerves and Steph decided she needed to get out of there before she started using the lady’s face for target practice. You wouldn’t like that.
Cass was the first one to resort to violence. They had asked a thinly veiled question, basically asking if you were a golddigger. So she punched him in the nose and leaned down to flip the camera off. She hated interviews already but that made it so much worse. She hoped you wouldn’t be too upset with her punching the guy though.
Jason, surprisingly enough. Did not get violent… physically. He did however curse one out and threaten him when the reporter implied you were forcing them to say nice things. When the reporter kept pressing Jason broke his mic and told him if he ever heard him talking bad about you again, a broken mic would be the last of his worries. Jason knew you would be disappointed but he had held back, he didn’t shoot the guy like he wanted.
Tim threw his coffee at one reporter because he heard them say you were nothing but a regular person who didn’t deserve any attention. He then took over her segment, threatening the company to air it or he would make sure they went bankrupt. Once he finished his threats, anything he said was praising you name. Telling everyone how amazing you were and how much they all loved you.
Barbara made it a point to bring up everything you did for the community when they tried to throw some shade at you in an interview. She had documents to prove it and hacked their systems to add them into the interview so they couldn’t claim it was fake. She also made sure to run over his foot when she left.
Dick punched a reporter when they tried to ask him what you were really like behind closed doors. He told them the truth, that you were just as good, kind, patient, and loving behind closed doors as you were out in public. He didn’t throw a punch until the reporter disregarded that as asked again because she couldn’t be that good. Dick knew a lecture would be coming once you saw, but he would rather sit through a lecture then let anyone tarnish your name.
Damian spent 10 minutes cursing and threatening a reporter in Arabic when they asked him if you had ever hurt him. When he was done, he told them in english, that if he ever got asked that question again, he would impale them. He knew you were going to make him sit down and translate everything and the general response you would give but he didn’t care, no one speaks bad about either of his mothers.
Bruce figured out what was going on after Steph’s interview. He saw the ones where they assaulted or threatened the reporters and made sure his lawyers were on standby to keep the kids out of trouble. After all, he had seen more than they had.
He had watched as you tried to connect with Dick early on, how you worked hard to try and get somewhere. He had woken up before you when Dick had come in that night and heard how you handled it. He had woken up the next morning to find you holding Dick close, like you were trying to protect him from the nightmares. He had seen how you never turned Dick down when he wanted comfort, no matter how serious or silly the matter, and he had heard your excitement when you told him Dick liked you.
Bruce had seen the way you never missed a visit to Jason’s grave, on a visit of his own, he saw how much care you showed the stone marking it as his lost son. While he hadn’t been sure why it was alway the same time on Tuesday, he didn;t mention it. He felt the way you would sob in his arms after each visit, a year after the tradition started, you always said you had promised not to tell and he watched as you kept that promise even if it tore you to pieces. Once the shock and tears wore off for a little bit, he could see the trust that Jason had in you.
He heard the way you questioned if you should have a key to the manor, you didn’t want to make Tim uncomfortable in his own home, or how you questioned if you should visit while he was gone. Not wanting to stress Tim out when there was no reason too. He saw the way you and Tim grinned at each other when you brought snacks down for all the kids he was currently lecturing. He head the excitement in your voice as you told him about the tour Tim had given you of the Batcave and the shared laughter as you and Tim worked together to win the nerf war.
Bruce saw how you worked to give Damian the affection he didn’t think he needed. He felt you crying in his arms upset over the fact Damian thought you would be angry because he made a mistake or struggled in a class. He heard you practicing your Arabic as you got ready for bed and he watched as you stress paced over whether or not you said the right thing to him about his mother.
He saw how angry you had been when you came back from your day out with Barbara. He had heard your call with your lawyer as you tried to figure out what to do. He saw you going through the laws and making a list to make sure your lawyer didn’t miss any. He heard about the movie you didn’t particularly care about and the lore you remembered in case of another because you wanted Barbara to have someone she could tell all of her favorite things too.
Bruce saw the pictures you had taken from the school night. He heard all the details from you as you praised Steph’s work. He saw the way Steph stopped acting around you and the silly arguments the two of you would get into for fun. He heard the way you would listen to her as she verbally worked out her problems. He saw the way Steph looked for you in a crowd, the way she knew you were there but not where you stood exactly, the thought of you not being there never crossed her.
He saw the way you stayed up late, researching different ways to teach reading and writing. He heard the patience and kindness and you worked with Cass. He saw the way you always made a treat just for Cass to have after each lesson because you wanted to reward her hard work. He heard the way you cried for Cass when she had a bad day and got frustrated with herself because you knew she was smart and you wanted her to see it too. He heard your celebrations when Cass made any progress, no matter the size.
Bruce heard, saw, and felt the way you worked hard to have a relationship with his kids. How you had mourned for their losses, celebrated their wins, and felt their pain. He saw the way his kids blossomed under your care, growing to be better and more confident in themselves. The way you cared for them as if they were your own flesh and blood. So when he was asked about his kids behavior, he said as much.
“Y/n has worked hard to be accepted by them. She’s given so much of her time, effort, patience, and love and never wanted anything in return. She always shows up for them, no matter what the occasion is, big or small, it doesn’t matter. If they want her there, she’ll be there. Everytime they need or want her, she’s there. She never judges them and treats them as if they were her own blood. Of course their upset and lashing out, people are insulting the woman who has cared for them more then most of their biological mothers.”
Later, a clip of you scolding Bruce and all the kids went viral. While you were scolding them over their behavior and making the kids who had reacted with violence or threats write apology letters because asking mean questions does not make it right to respond badly especially when its someone just trying to start drama. Everyone one noticed that there was no actual bite to your tone and no anger when they all refused to stop acting like that. In fact, there was a small soft smile on your face as you shook your head at your family.
#dc#jason todd#dick grayson#tim drake#fem reader#batman x reader#bruce wayne x reader#Damian wayne#cassandra cain#stephanie brown#barbara gordon#batfamily x reader#batmom reader#batmom#request#cipheress-to-k-pop
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The Last Time Pt4 (FINAL)
Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Reader
Warnings: sex sex sex
Summary: you finally know what you want. Hopefully Paige does too.
Authors note: hello!!!! Hope this hits how I intended. I know this series was short, don’t worry!! I have many ideas for what’s next. Enjoy!
MINORS DNI AFTER CUT PLEASEEE
The stadium is loud and bustling. You managed to secure half decent seats but cursed at yourself for not thinking this through. Just showing up to her game and hoping you’d be able to talk to her? How stupid could you be? It’s not like you can just show up to her change room, her teammates would probably think you were a stalker. Paige would probably be embarrassed.
You didn’t know what to think of her now. When the two of you would meet up you felt as if you’d known her your whole life. She knew a lot about you, and you grew to learn personal things about her too. But now all of that means nothing, and you now realized there’s a decent possibility she didn’t even tell her friends about you.
What was there to tell? ‘Every week I fuck this girl, then we spill our guts to each other and then don’t talk again till the next time.’
You sigh to yourself, looking down at the navy and white jersey you had on. You hadn’t worn Paige’s jersey since the night you first met at the Halloween/Birthday party. You felt like an idiot.
When you look back onto the court, you briefly catch a good chunk of the team looking in your direction during warmups. Ignoring the flip in your stomach, you convince yourself it’s nothing to do with you.
-
“Is that her?”
“She’s wearing Paige’s jersey.”
“Has she ever been to one of our games before?”
Azzi shakes her head. “No, she hasn’t.”
“So why would she be here now?”
“She misses Paiges pussy power.” KK shrugs, then yelps when Nika hits her.
“Should we tell Paige?” Nika asks.
Azzi glances at Paige, who is clearly in her own thoughts. “No. It’ll throw her off. We can worry about this later.”
“We gonna parent trap em or what?” KK asks.
“Parent trap who?” Paige finally joins the conversation.
“Nobody!” The whole group sings. Paige just shakes her head.
-
The game is entrancing. You never cared to watch basketball, even when you started seeing Paige you never bothered to check it out. You recall her trying to drop hints of her wanting you at one of her games, but you didn’t think you could handle seeing her playing. You thought it would make you more attracted to her, and you were right.
Paige was absolutely in her element. You could see now why the internet could rave on about the smallest play for days. The game had you on the edge of your seat, Paige was a monster when she wanted to be and it was turning you on to no amend.
Your feelings become unsure as you see her on the court, running back and forth, shooting and making shots, yelling and celebrating. Chest bumps with her teammates, shared looks, laughs unheard by the crowd. It was a whole other world that you were not apart of. The reminder that this is all for her was blaring. You look around at the screaming fans, most of them girls and guys your age. Any of them could replace you, in fact you could’ve been a replacement yourself.
You suddenly have the urge to get up and leave, to call it quits and forget about your infatuation with #5. This urge only worsens when Paige approaches the stands in attempt to rile up the crowd, raising her hands to say “louder, louder!”
You watch as her eyes graze the masses, and then you watch as her expression morphs from excitement to a billion other unidentifiable emotions as her gaze touches your portion of the seats. You know then that she’s seen you, but you don’t know how she feels about that.
She retreats as if nothing has happened and she plays the rest of the game fiercely, but her face retains the same unreadable expression.
At the end of the game you once again curse yourself for not thinking this out more thoroughly. So far all you’ve done is make yourself feel sorry. You put your hand in your pocket to get the headphones, but instead feel your phone buzz.
From: Paige B
come outside of the gym rn
You oblige.
-
She’s waiting for you at the back, all ready to leave in her Huskies tracksuit. Her hair is still in her signature game day braids and ponytail, and when her eyes meet yours you feel yourself physically shudder. Paige’s eyes have always had that effect on you.
“So now you wanna come to my games?” She asks, not angry but not quite impressed either.
“Don’t get too excited.” You try to smile, taking out the headphones. “I found these in my room the other day…thought I should give them back.”
She takes them and inspects them for a second. You wonder if she remembers how they ended up on the floor of your bedroom in the first place.
“You seriously came to my game to give me headphones? That’s all you have to say?” She licks her lips, shaking her head. “I forgot how much of a pussy you can be.”
“Are you serious?” You ask her, unprepared for the reaction she gave you. “Pussy? I’m a pussy? You’re the one who ended things to ‘focus’ on the sport you’ve been focused on for like, I dunno, your whole life? You could’ve at least tried to make a decent excuse.”
“Yeah, well you can’t be offended that I dipped.” She shrugs. “Not like you were ever in much hurry to see me, right?”
You don’t respond to that in time, because she immediately retaliates.
“Why so quiet now, hm? Were you hoping I would just keep hitting you up? I have better things to do, and oh, God knows you do. Why don’t you just go home and study for some final, or do whatever it is you’d do with your time before you met me.”
Paige’s composure is calm. She seems to be trying to keep a chill ‘I don’t care’ energy, but the way she’s biting at you with such hostility is just proof to you that she cares.
“You’re such a dick, Paige.” You sigh, rubbing your face. “I don’t want to go home. I want to be with you.”
Paige is quiet.
“We don’t have to date, I- it’s not even that. I just couldn’t take it, being around you. That day when we first met I went to bed just thinking about how much I wanted to know you, and I knew I couldn’t think like that because you don’t commit to anyone, and..I-”
“Take this.” Paige interrupts.
“What?”
She hands your a pair of keys on a lanyard. “I have to go right now.” She gestures to the keys. “Go home.”
She turns to leave in an unnaturally abrupt way, almost awkwardly. You stare down at the keys, the lanyard is blue and white with the writing “Uconn Women’s Division One Basketball”.
When Paige said go home, she meant her dorm. These are her keys.
-
When you walk inside you’re immediately flooded with memories of the past five months. You’re unsure if you should go to her room or not, but just as you start to think the door opens and Paige lets herself in.
“The team is out for dinner and drinks.” She smiles to herself, taking off the zip-up leaving her in track pants and a white t-shirt. Her arms are toned and veiny. You want to talk, but seeing her in front of you like this again, proudly telling you the place is empty for the two of you, it’s all just making you crave her body.
When she approaches you she stops just centimetres away, looking down at you. Her finger finds your chin, and she nudges your face to look up at her, eyes wide.
“So you want me now? How long till that changes and you ghost me? Will you watch me like a creep at my games again then too?” She asks, tilting her head.
“I always wanted you. I just didn’t want you to think so.” You mumble.
“Well you got what you wanted.” She says, and your heart sinks because you can hear that she’s telling the truth.
She looks down at you and lets out a breath. You’re still wearing the jersey.
“I’ve seen so many people in this jersey.” Paige says, toying with the hem and releasing butterflies in your stomach. “But ion think it ever had the same effect you did. When I saw you that day, all alone, I just knew I needed you. I was so mad when I dropped you off that night cus I was already forgetting what you looked like with my name and number on you while you came.”
You can feel yourself water at that. Reaching towards her to take out her ponytail, leaving the front pieces of hair braided and letting the rest of her hair cascade down her shoulders like it did the night you met her. You toy with a lock of blonde and meet her eyes again. “I can remind you, if you want me to.”
You hear her shallowly inhale as you slowly slide your pants off, maintaining eye contact as you throw them away and stand infront of her in your underwear and her jersey.
Suddenly she picks you up, forcing you to straddle her as she holds you with her hands on your ass. Her mouth is finally on yours as she takes you to her room, not bothering to turn the lights on. You let out a gasp when she tosses you onto her bed and climbs on top of you, hurriedly taking off her shirt.
When your lips meet it’s different from any other kiss you’ve shared with her. There’s something more, you never understood what girls in movies meant by a spark when you kiss, but you got it now. The feeling of her lips on yours sends a shock throughout your body, and you know she feels it too.
There’s a change in the way your bodies move against each other, like you are perfectly in sync. It feels like Paige is inside of your head, the way she knows exactly what to do to get you wetter then you already are.
She grabs your wrists and pins them above your head with one hand while the other starts to massage your clit through your underwear. You can’t help but let out a moan at the combination of pressure on your clit plus Paige’s kisses trailing down to your neck and collarbone.
She eyes you when her mouth moves down to your heat, letting her hand find your breast under the jersey. She gives soft kitten licks that make you gasp, the way her tongue flicks at your clit and coats your underwear with her saliva is already orgasm inducing enough, so you can’t help but moan out loud when she forces your underwear down and fully starts to eat you out.
As she laps at you with almost no mercy you can feel yourself reaching your peak. Paige seems to notice too, because she abruptly pulls away and gets up from the bed.
“Paige?” You mumble, shocked at the fact that you might cry. Your body is confused from the denial of its well anticipated orgasm and Paige herself has always made sure you finished.
You watch as she opens her closet and reaches for a specific shoebox out of the many she keeps stored there. When she opens the box there aren’t any shoes, there is however a strap on.
“Oh shit.” You whisper, and when you meet her eyes you both let out a laugh.
“Ion usually use this because it can feel so...” She says, picking it up. “I dunno…intimate? Having to be so close to you like that. I don’t know, it’s stupid.”
You suck in a breath, digesting what she’s saying. Does this mean she’s accepting her intimacy with you now? By offering you her 6-inch lilac dildo?
“Let’s do it.” You say.
She relishes in the fact that you’re watching in awe as she attaches the strap to herself, and the thought of pounding into you is driving her crazy.
You’re pinned against the bed again, but this time you can feel the strap against your legs, and it send shivers down your spine. Paige kisses you so passionately, and you mewl when the tip of her teases your entrance. You can feel her smirk against your lips, dragging this out as long as she can. “Please,” you whine. “please, P. Put it in.”
When she eases herself in, you can swear there are stars on the ceiling of her bedroom. Paige takes your legs and puts them over her shoulders, slowly stretching you out and gliding her strap in and out of you. Her face is nuzzled into your neck, and you can hear her whispering about how good you’re taking her.
When you’re more adjusted to the length her speed increases, and the bed starts to squeak. You can’t help but cling to the purple blanket, or her back, just about anything you can reach.
“Paige, oh my god, P. Don’t stop.” You cry. You had never begged for her before, not like this, but there’s no worry of being embarrassed anymore. You decide she can have you at your neediest state and you trust that she’ll take you.
As she pounds into you, you feel her hand entwine with yours, holding you in position but also providing a sort of comfort. Your heart warms at the feeling of her calloused fingers against your own. It’s the first time you’ve ever held hands with her.
Paige’s breath is rugged in your ear and her hand is squeezing yours for dear life. “You look so good like this, baby.” She mutters. “Do you even know how much I want you? I can’t shake the feeling that you don’t want me.”
“Paige.” You whine. “No, Paige I want you.”
“How bad?”
“Oh” you whimper into her ear. “So bad Paigey. So, so bad. I always wanted you. I was scared.” You groan out.
“Shit.” She responds, voice wavering. The room is filled with the lewd noises of you and her together. “I want to be with you. Mmh, I couldn’t look at anyone after that night with you.” She murmurs into your ear.
Finally you cum, and you feel it through every inch of your being. Pleasure truly from head to toes, you’re in heaven. You realize you might just want to give Paige everything you have, really. Mind body and soul. The thought causes anxiety in your stomach.
Paige slumps down behind you and immediately wraps her arms around you. “I think I like the jersey so much because it makes me feel like you’re mine.” She utters. You’re lost in your own insecure thoughts, and just reply with a bland “mhm.”
At this, Paige physically turns you around so that you’re laying face to face with her. She looks beautiful, hair wild aside from her braids, cheeks flushed, eyes still bright and surprisingly alert. She licks her lips indecisively, something she often does when she’s thinking hard.
“You know, I meant what I said.”
“What?”
“When I, uh.” She trails off, suddenly unable to hold eye contact with you. “When I said I wanted to be with you. I meant it.”
“Paige.” You cover your face. “Don’t mess with me, please.” You say, hating the way your throat feels tight. The vulnerability you felt before has turned sour. Now you’re just scared that here, laying in her bed with no underwear and a tired mind, that you’ll get too excited and this’ll all be something you’ll regret.
“It’s not funny.” You say. “When I say I want you it’s not because of sex, or the way you look or anything like that. I actually want everything you have to give. And I’m willing to give you everything too.” You say.
“Fuck, I know, I know.” She says quietly. “I didn’t want to think about it at the start but, that day when I told you it would be the last time we’d meet, I knew i’d just fucked myself over.” Paige laughs almost bitterly. “I was lowkey praying I’d run into you, so I could just see your face n’ shit.”
When you just stare at her she laughs. “I’m being serious, okay? I am. I want you for real. You’ve had me since that stupid party, I jus didn’t know it.”
“Okay..okay.” You say, stifling a laugh yourself.
“I want your body.” She rubs your thigh. “I want your mind.” She takes your face in her hands, forcing you to look at her again. Her eyes are like ice, piercing through you.
“I want to know all of that complicated shit you think.” She leans in to kiss you. Not a sexual kiss, a real kiss. When it breaks she says “I want you at my games. I want you cheering me on. I want to be there when you’re out in the world making money and being a badass.”
You roll your eyes at this. “Just kiss me, Bueckers. Don’t get all corny now.”
Paige just smiles, her tongue sticking out between her teeth.
Her kisses spark fireworks in your stomach. You relish in the fact that this won’t be the last time.
There won’t be a last time ever again.
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tim and bernard who break up and it's nothing big, no one cheated or anything. it's just their lifestyles didn't work out well together. tim cannot give up vigilantism currently and bear cannot handle the level of danger tim puts himself in. and on the other hand, tim cannot handle the fact that bear chooses to run into danger as an emt bc he already worries about everything but now he has to worry if he'll find his boyfriend convulsing from fear gas in a random alley but also bear who felt the life drain out of darla cannot stand the thought of not helping people and runs headfirst into dangerous situation after dangerous situation hoping that every person he saves can somehow make up for the fact that he could not save darla.
(he very pointedly does not think about the fact that there was nothing he could do because if he thinks about that, he'll spiral until they have to lock him in arkham too)
and so they break up but they were tim & bernard in high school and when they started dating they balanced out the worst of each other and they became tim&bernard. and everyone who knows them, knows that they're better together but they cant be together, they refuse actually because they cannot lose another person to the violence of gotham and by the time they figure out that they cant work together as long as the other is an emt or vigilante, it's too late for both them. they've already left too many pieces of themselves in each other.
tim still knows what bear means when he says "tim" in that exasperated voice. tim still goes boneless when he hears bear say "baby" in that firm tone. bear can still read tim like a book. he still knows the right way to massage tim's neck so that tim can go to sleep. everyone at the first responders gala knows not to bother ceo drake-wayne and senior emt dowd when they're talking.
(and if they're standing a little too close to each other than what is normal, who are they to judge? everyone knows that dowd and drake-wayne have history)
and if everyone on the night shift has caught red robin with his head tucked into the crook of emt dowd's neck as emt dowd runs a soothing hand up and down the vigilante's back, well then, they just quietly back away.
(after all, dowd's one of like, five, emts that can get the bats to receive medical treatment so if turning a blind eye to whatever the fuck they have going on is what allows them to give back to their heroes, then the night shift will do it every time)
and of course, tim and bear are practical people. they loved (love) each other sure, but when your lives are fundamentally incompatible, well, you cant get too stuck on the what-ifs, that's for sure. and so they do find love with other people and yeah, maybe it's not what they expected love to be when they first fell in love with each other. it's not the bubbly, stomach-swoopy, cant stop grinning, feeling that permeated tim&bernard's early days or the i Know you/you Know me that was their middle or the quiet despair that was their end but it is contentment. and in a life with as many losses as theirs, contentment is something they hold dearly
and they're happy! truly! but sometimes, at galas when they're making each other snort champagne out their noses or in darkened alleyways when their clothes are both stained with blood or at rallies for stricter gun regulations in gotham where they both sit too close to each other, fingers enclosed around each other in a death grip, when the presenters inevitably bring up grieves
(worst school shooting in gotham in decades, there's blood on their hands and blood in their mouths and darla is dead in between both of them and there is a chasm so wide that they are screaming to get their voices across and she will always be dead and maybe this had always been the problem that she is dead and there is no coming back from that and that there is blood on their hands and blood in their mouth and blood on their han-)
but sometimes, most especially on opposite sides of the street, as life pulls them in different directions, just sometimes, they see each other and just for a second, nothing too long, the flap of a hummingbird's wings, the time it takes to blink, an electron's orbital, they look at each other and for the briefest moment, blue on brown, a barely noticeable stutter in their steps, the space between heartbeats, because this is all they will give themselves because they do not dwell on what-ifs or what-could-have-beens, or what-should-have-beens, or delusions of a softer world, their eyes meet and they think to themselves, god, in another life, i would have really liked just doing laundry and taxes with him.
#what the fuck is this#the theme was wistfulness. hopefully that came across right. and like i wanted this to be all 1 text block so you feel how it all collapses#into that 1 thought they have at they end but fuckass tumblr has a 4096??? text limit for a single paragraph???? so here's multiple paragra#anyway here is my middle of the road sad timbern hc. do i think this will happen? no? is this still a fun world to play in? yeah absolutely#also super huge fan of darla haunting the narrative. darla as this chasm they cannot cross. darla as smth they shelter each other from#but also smth like a 2 way blade. it cuts them both. it will never stop cutting them. smth smth the wound will always bleed#also i cannot stress how important it is that they are happy with other people!!! they are both satisfied with other people. it's just that#they have a very specific history and they are the only two people who really know and understand that history#and also it's not that theyre unhappy with their partners but just that smtimes they look at each other and... wonder. in a softer world#maybe i could've been a chef and you could've still been a superhero and we could've still worked out. maybe we would've gotten a boat#together and maybe we could've come home to each other. maybe i could've trusted you to come home to me. maybe you could've#understood my need to help people. maybe we could've held our love as something precious.#maybe in a softer world our love wasn't something that hurt us both.#i need to lay down. im going crazy#as always i do love reading yalls thoughts in the reblogs and replies!!!#bernard dowd#dc#tim drake#timbern#timber
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The Feeders' Fortress
It was the dirty floor against his face that Mike noticed first. His head felt fuzzy and the room was so incredibly dark. It was impossible to work out where he was. He stumbled groggily to his feet, realising that he was dressed only in his underwear. What the hell kind of party had he been to last night to wake up here? Then again, had he been to a party last night? His head was so disorganised.
Reaching around the space, Mike tried to find his clothes and, hopefully, his cell phone so that he could find some light. As he did so, he heard footsteps creeping outside of the room and, for the first time, a streak of light through the crack under the door.
“There’s another one in here!” cried a deep masculine voice as the door opened and Mike suddenly had a small torch shone straight into his face. “Same as us. Underwear. No clothes in sight.”
“What’s going on?” Mike asked indignantly.
“Your guess is as good as ours,” sighed another voice beside the person shining the torch. He reached out his hand and lowered the light so that Mike was no longer blinded. Where the light touched, Mike could see the dilapidated interior of the house he was in: filthy, boarded up and crumbling. Tired, dated pieces of furniture lay haphazardly around the edges of the room, some covered poorly with dust sheets.
“What is this place?” Mike mumbled, getting to his feet.
“Someone’s creepy idea of a joke, no doubt,” came another voice as the footsteps of the guys entered the room. “It looks like your classic haunted mansion. All the windows and doors are locked tight and we haven’t found the way out yet.”
“If there even is one,” replied a pessimistic voice.
“Of course there is,” disputed the guy holding the torch who had seemed to appoint himself the leader. “We got in here somehow, didn’t we? So there has to be a way out.”
The others sighed. None of them claimed to know how they had arrived, each arguing their alternative theories about why they were there. None of them had before. They were all strangers. But, to Mike, there was one clear detail that each of them had in common: outstandingly good looks.
Finn, holding the torch, was a quarterback for the local college team and, even in the limited lighting, Mike could tell that the guy was more strapping than anyone he had ever seen on the pitch. The person standing beside him was Oliver; even taller and toned to absolute perfection. Like Mike, he did some modelling whilst studying in college. Mike knew the agency that he worked for and, whilst the other two were arguing about which direction to search next, the pair discussed the surprising stresses they had encountered with certain jobs they had done. The only other guy was Rob, another football jock for a rival team of Finn’s, though neither of them claimed to know the other. He was built for clear functional athleticism, with the lightest six pack of all of them and a meaty, muscular butt. Delicious.
Even now, in this bizarre situation, Mike could feel himself getting aroused in their presence: these three gorgeous, practically naked boys. Together, they were calm, even jovial. They bolstered each other’s confidence, methodically searching the large building as if they were trying to hide the fact that they were silently terrified. There had to be answers to their questions somewhere in this building.
“What’s down there, do you think?” Oliver asked as they shone the torch down some stairs.
Out of habit, Mike flicked the light switch, expecting nothing to happen, when suddenly, the whole room below lit up perfectly.
“Success!” roared Finn, heading straight down; soon followed by the others, at quite some pace.
What lay below was the most bizarre of sights: a small, neatly made up dining table, filled with tasty treats: cakes, doughnuts, cookies and pastries; all fresh and smelling incredible. Such a homely scene lightened the mood further, with Finn and Rob heading to sit down at the table and Mike following them, if only to hide the tightness in his crotch which would be clearly evident in this well lit room.
“I knew we’d be alright! This just proves it. It’s definitely some sort of prank,” Finn smiled, reaching out for one of the doughnuts.
Oliver stood to the side, surveying the scene with more scepticism. “Isn’t this a bit fucking weird?” he asked. “This whole place is a shit hole, and now this?” he pointed at the homely scene before him.
“Relax!” Finn scoffed at him, already chewing on a bite of the doughnut. “It tastes fine.”
Rob reached out next, picking up a pastry, now that Finn had sampled the goods. Meanwhile, Mike had his eye on one of the cupcakes, feeling surprisingly hungry after waking up here. Eventually, even Oliver followed them to the table,sitting down at the fourth chair, picking up a cookie and nibbling it with only a small amount of hesitancy.
Under the light, it was clear just how beautiful these guys all were. Mike found himself trying not to stare for fear that his erection may get even more severe if they all had to get up soon and explore the place some more. The mood was relaxed and surprisingly light-hearted as Finn reached for a second and third doughnut before any of the others had even finished their first chosen snack.
“Who do you think made all these?” Oliver asked the guys.
“Whoever it is pranking us,” Rob replied, scanning the room for cameras as he sat at the table.
Mike sat up nervously. He didn’t want to be on camera right now. Not with his erection as it was.
Mike suddenly felt a slight prod on his arm as Oliver looked at him seriously, pointing across to Finn. The movement caught Rob’s attention as well, until all three of them were gazing at a now motionless Finn, staring down at the table and seemingly stunned after finishing his third doughnut.
“Are you alright, buddy?” Rob asked, noting the sweat that was glistening on Finn’s face.
Finn looked up slowly until his eyes met with Mike’s right across the table from him. His jaw was slack as he picked himself up by leaning his strapping body on the table. Then, from out of nowhere, a giant burp erupted from his throat, right in front of Mike. It was so loud and deep, completely unnatural after such light snacks, making the three others stare across in panic.
“What the fuck?” Oliver asked, standing up in alarm, sensing immediately that something was wrong. It was then that Mike noticed that Finn was not as slim as he had thought; that for all his muscles, he was actually carrying a little paunch that looked bizarrely out of place.
FInn’s hips started to rock, like he was fucking some invisible girl in front of him, and, even in his loose fitting trunks, it was clear to Mike that the guy was also nursing an erection.
“What’s he doing?” Rob shouted; his eyes similarly caught by the shape of Finn’s stomach. Each time the guy rocked back and forth, the budding love handles at his sides seemed to swell more and more.
At some point, all three of them realised what was happening. It was the way Finn’s gut began to flutter and jiggle with the shaking. Fat was ballooning in his stomach, actually pushing it outwards. The relaxed fit of his underwear began to disappear as the gentle creases stretched out and the material tightened around him, spurred on by an obvious widening of his tight butt. It was then that Mike began to observe even Finn’s chest starting to succumb; his nipples pointing and a softness spreading into his pecs. It seemed to bloom and spread itself under his arms, softening up his biceps at the same time and swelling his neck; producing a shameful double chin.
Oliver was still the only one up, with Mike and Rob still stunned in their seats. Then, without warning, Rob suddenly bolted for the stairs, grabbing the torch at the same time.
“What do we do?” Oliver asked Mike in pure panic, clearly desperate to follow Rob and get the hell out of there.
Finn’s sweaty body glistened as fat spread throughout. The blubber began to pour itself over the tight waistband of the guy’s underwear, now digging in quite painfully. Mike could see the guy looking down at himself in shock and alarm: his beautiful body becoming more and more obese.
Mike had no answer for what was happening or what on Earth they were supposed to do about it. He could see Oliver looking back towards the dark stairs; no sign of Rob at all. More than once, Mike thought that Oliver might run off in fear as well. If he did, Mike decided he was going to run straight out with him.
A general widening seemed to take place in Finn’s body. The love handles pushed out to further extents and his hips swelled above the two extremely blubbery thighs. The guy’s cute underwear had allowed his large, sweaty glutes to slip out as the inflation took hold. Now the material began to tear; stretched as they were in every direction.
Within no time at all, Mike realised that Finn was now carrying an insane amount of fat on his body; 400 lbs? 450? His underwear were reduced to little more than rags, still dangling from a destroyed waistband; an entire sack of lard now filling Finn’s groin.
Oliver bolted, quickly followed by a petrified Mike, throwing himself up the pitch-black stairs. “Wait up!” he cried out in horror, wincing as his feet stepped over the debris and dust. All he could do was follow the sounds of Oliver’s lightning footsteps.
Suddenly, Mike felt himself bumping straight into Oliver, knocking them both to the floor.
“Watch it!” Oliver grumbled. “What the hell were you running for? We can barely see a thing!”
Mike’s mouth filled with all the things he wanted to say and then, just as quickly as they arrived, nothing. Why was he running? Had something scared him? No. He would have remembered that. He shuffled to his feet. “Sorry,” he mumbled, feeling rather silly. “I must have just been trying to catch you up.”
Oliver shushed him and the pair listened intently as voices came from another wing of the enormous house. They began stepping in the same direction, noticing faint glows of the torch around one corner.
“But this is the way I came in!” argued a new voice. “The door was open, and now…” he shouted, banging forcefully on what appeared to be the front door.
“Oh, thank heavens!” Oliver bellowed, finally spotting Rob standing next to a police officer.
The relief that Mike felt was indescribable. Tall, built and appearing nothing but strong and capable, the police officer turned to face them both, shining a second torch in their faces.
“Is this all of you?” the cop asked.
“No, there’s another guy,” Rob mumbled, as if he couldn’t quite remember exactly. “Finn. He’s downstairs somewhere. He was eating some food we found,” he continued; his voice wispy, like he was trying to piece something together. He’s pretty big and heavy though. I don’t suppose he wants to go walking all around this place at that size.”
Mike nodded, realising that Rob was probably right. That must have been why Finn stayed down in the basement.
“Well, this door has locked behind me. I don’t have any signal on my cell phone and there doesn’t seem to be any reception for me to contact the station on my radio,” the cop explained grumpily. “I guess you had better take me to see this Finn guy so that I can check on him too,” he finally decided, slamming into the heavy door one final time, just in case it budged at all.
Oliver and Mike took one torch, whilst the cop and Rob walked ahead with the other.
“Do you think he’s a real cop?” Oliver whispered to Mike. “This whole thing just seems to be getting weirder and weirder, don’t you think?”
Mike pondered the idea. He’d not imagined that the cop was not genuine. But Oliver was right. Here he was, wandering around, almost naked in an abandoned mansion with no idea how late at night it was. Absolutely anything was possible.
“Where exactly are we?” he shouted ahead to the cop. “How did you know to come looking here?”
The cop began explaining the exact location of the mansion. “This old place has been crumbling for years,” the guy stated, after informing them all how far out of the city they were right now. “We used to get calls about trespassers quite a lot, but that all stopped about six months ago. Until tonight.”
In the dim light, Mike could feel Oliver looking at him from the side. The guy wasn’t trusting a word that was coming out of the cop’s mouth.
“Something’s up with Rob,” Oliver whispered a few moments later, when they had slowed their pace to allow the other two to go even further ahead, in search of the stairs to the basement. “Have you noticed how much he is sweating?”
Mike shone the light a little more on Rob. Oliver’s observations were spot on. The guy’s broad back was glistening with sweat, running down his back and drenching into his boxers, all down his butt crack. Something about it all seemed so familiar, although Mike couldn’t put his finger on why. Was this a bad sign? Was it something to be feared?
“We need to keep our distance from him,” Oliver decided, pulling Mike back a little bit more to let the cop and Rob get even more ahead of them. They kept a slow pace behind and waited as the pair eventually found the staircase down to the basement, heading straight down.
“What’s going on?” Mike asked, feeling that Oliver’s senses were sharper than his own; his instincts better.
Oliver rubbed his face, clearly stressed. “I don’t know!” he sighed. “But something tells me it’s going to be me and you finding our way out of here. I don’t trust that cop, and as for Rob…” he whispered. “I just have this really bad feeling.”
Suddenly, the cop was shouting at the top of his voice from the basement, startling both Oliver and Mike.
“WHAT THE FUCK?” he blasted. “What are you doing?”
Racing down, Oliver took the lead, standing on the staircase in front of Mike as they looked on at the scene. Rob’s body was rocking and shaking, his tight abs suddenly swollen and buried. The cop stood crouched to the side, his gun out and seemingly very afraid. Whatever was taking over Rob had a very firm grip on his body; thrashing him about as his stomach continued to grow.
In those moments, Mike suddenly remembered what he had witnessed happening to Finn. How could he ever have forgotten? There Finn was, snoozing on the floor, encased in mountains of fresh fat.
“What’s going on?” the cop demanded of Oliver and Mike.
“The food!” Mike mumbled, seeing it all there, continuing to invite them in. “There’s something in the food!” he stated with more certainty as Rob’s fine torso began to be consumed with an onslaught of blubber, swelling into his pecs and rounding out his stomach so that it pushed out further and further. The guy was panicking, managing to waddle around as his body shook, and he gazed at all the food that Mike was now blaming. Just what was it doing to him?
“But we ate the food as well,” Oliver shot back, terrified and transfixed as Rob’s butt widened in those cute little boxers of his; fat starting to crease the skin on his back and love handles swelling out further every single second. The butt crack began to peak out as the glutes grew; little more than an inch to begin with, then more and more; until his super sized butt was almost entirely outside of the underwear. That was when it ripped at the weaker stitching between his lardy legs and the material began to deteriorate quickly; all the elastic stretched beyond its capacity.
Mike put a comforting hand on Oliver’s strong shoulder, hoping to ease his worries in any way that he could.
The cop had fallen to the ground, backing up into the corner by the stairs and holding his gun out still; no longer so big, strong and tough.
Oliver reached his hand up and lovingly held Mike’s own hand upon his shoulder. Despite everything, the sensation of Oliver’s touch was all Mike needed.
Rob had fallen onto the floor, the transformation seemingly at an end, and a deathly silence filled the room.
“We’re fucked!” Oliver sighed. “Absolutely fucked!” He looked at Mike, his eyes full of concern for him. “Will it be us next, do you think?” he asked Mike, still holding his hand sweetly.
At that moment, Mike felt so completely smitten. Yet he nodded. “I think so,” he agreed sadly.
“What the hell are you on about?” the cop demanded of them both, still clearly terrified from what he had just seen. “Food can’t do that to someone! Not like that, anyway.”
“There’s no other way to explain it,” Oliver shrugged. “It took Finn first because he had eaten the most. Now Rob…”
The police officer stared hard at the two enormously fat guys on the floor and then looked in amazement at all the food still resting on the table. But then, his eyes widened even further and he stood up in horror. “Those doughnuts!” he shouted, looking straight at the unusually colourful and sprinkled treats on the table. “There was one just like it on my desk earlier! I thought it was from one of my colleagues.”
Mike and Oliver looked at each other with worry. Was the guy who was here to rescue them, actually just another victim?
“But did you eat it?” Oliver demanded of him.
“Yes, I ate it!” the cop shouted back, getting angry now. He seemed to feel faint, getting hot under the collar and putting back his gun so that he could take off his shirt.
Again, Mike and Oliver looked at each other. Why was the cop getting so sweaty all of a sudden? They watched as he shuffled around, leaning against the side, kicking off his shoes and even pulling off his socks, as if every piece of clothing was irritating his skin.
“Um, Sir…” Oliver cried out awkwardly as the cop untied his belt, discarding even his gun without a care, then unzipped his pants and let them drop to the floor.
In this state, it was clear to see what the cop had had in common with the four of them; young, handsome and highly athletic as he clearly was.
“Oh, no!” the cop mumbled, tensing all the muscles in his strapping body.
“What’s happening?” Oliver whispered to Mike.
“It must be trying to take him,” Mike shot back. “I think he’s actually trying to fight it.”
Both Mike and Oliver climbed two steps further up the stairs, abandoning the cop and knowing that there was nothing they could do to help him now. The gorgeous officer was grunting and bracing himself against the wall. The sounds he was making reminded Mike of the guys he had seen in the gym trying to lift extremely heavy weights.
“I can’t watch!” Mike whispered to Oliver, who had taken a further step up to sit beside him on the stairs and kindly draped his arm over Mike’s shoulders.
“We must,” Oliver whispered back. “We’ve got to see if he can do it. Who knows, right?”
“Maybe he can fight it off,” Mike agreed hopefully.
“Shit,” Oliver replied, quickly shutting Mike down. “Look at his abs. Can you see? The skin around them is starting to bloat up.”
Oliver leaned his head against Mike’s and rubbed his back soothingly. The arousal Mike felt was spiking once again and he found himself momentarily lost, even as the cop battled on only a few feet away.
“It’s a battle that cannot be won. This guy only got married last year,” Oliver continued, as they both looked across at the police officer. “Yet he’s already cheating on his wife with a new recruit at his station. That’s why he ate the doughnut. He thought it was from her.”
Oliver’s voice was so soothing and intense. Mike felt as though he could sit there all day long admiring the perfect man beside him. But, what was he actually saying? Mike had to replay it in his head, before the obvious question dawned in him. “How do you know that?” he asked.
“His secret girlfriend says she can’t resist those tight little buns of his,” Oliver whispered teasingly, as if trying to hold back a laugh. “Not so tight anymore. Wouldn’t you agree, Mike?” he asked; the pair of them watching as the cop growled loudly in desperation to hold back whatever force was taking him. But Oliver was right; slowly, but surely, the guy’s butt had started to develop some extra meat to it, rounding the glutes in a way that only fat ever could.
“What are you saying?” Mike asked, feeling Oliver’s presence becoming more powerful.
“Shh,” Oliver soothed, rubbing Mike’s back and continuing to lean his head against his, forcing them both to watch the action in front of them. “We can’t have a cop that handsome walking around, can we?”
Mike’s heartbeat rose to new heights. The person who was controlling all of this had been with him the entire time. His body tensed, making Oliver sigh in happiness as he stuck close to him on that step.
“I love this bit!” Oliver continued whispering, as if telling Mike a bedtime story. “Can you see how he’s trying to hold his breath? He thinks he can force it back down, but he can’t. The formula has now spread into every cell in his body.”
Even with the officer trying to hold on tight, a slow, insidious tire of fat was gently forming over his abs and budding softness grew into love handles. The effort of holding his breath was taking it out of him; his eyes were screaming for release and cheeks had filled with air. Now his eyes were shutting tight, as if to concentrate even more, when a tiny burst of air slipped through his lips like a leaking pipe; more and more, until the floodgates had opened and he had to let it all go; sucking up a great big chestful of air and then burping like never before; all control stripped from him.
That brief pause in the guy’s attention was seemingly all this formula had needed to take control. The hips began thrashing about with surprising violence, with his stomach and rear inflating with remarkable speed; as if making up for lost time.
“It’s wonderful, isn’t it?” Oliver asked, kissing Mike sweetly on the side of his head. “So much fat! The thighs, the chest and the arms!” There was such a thrill in his quiet voice, as if he was deliberately controlling his elation to creep Mike out even more.
“Why are you doing this?” Mike asked; eyes still fixed on the ballooning cop as his jawline disappeared under the building flesh in his neck and chin, and blossoming into his cheeks.
“Because I can… And because I want to,” Oliver quietly replied, as he continued to stroke Mike’s back. “Look at him!” he cooed. “Pecs are gone already!”
Mike watched as the officer’s nipples started to bounce and his thick thighs swelled outwards, blowing up his butt to a size that was almost disproportionate to his frame.
“I wonder what his girlfriend will say about him now,” Oliver joked, knowing that Mike would be looking at exactly the same thing. “A disgusting, overfed, fat ass like that!” he whispered gently into Mike’s ear, making every part of the boy tingle with a baffling excitement. “You’re going to be a fat boy, just like him soon…” the devil whispered into his ear.
Mike wanted to get up and run, but being so close to Oliver felt like something he had longed for his entire life. Was this what love felt like? This yearning to be with someone, no matter what?”
Oliver began to caress the tip of Mike’s throbbing hardness under his underwear. “How exciting for you. A whole new life for yourself as one of my fatties,” he teased, turning his head so that he could whisper directly into Mike’s ear as he watched the cop continuing to become even more extremely obese, lose his balance and slide against the wall; landing with a splat on his enormously overgrown backside. Yet, even sitting down, his butt and thighs continued to spread out onto the floor; the rolls and blubber that decorated his torso, softening and spreading; folds deepening every second.
Then, just like that, the cop had fallen asleep; his revoltingly obese body resting after the dramatic trauma it had just endured. Mike gasped, but not because of the sight in front of him. It was Oliver, continuing to massage his erection. He was brought so close to climaxing, that when Oliver brought his lips towards him, Mike moved swiftly to meet them in a deep, passionate kiss.
As they came out of the kiss, Oliver gently stroked Mike’s hair back from his face. “I’ve so enjoyed our time together,” he smiled with delight. “You’ve been so entertaining, from the very start.”
Mike smiled back, in awe of the amazing man who was giving him all the attention he could ever wish.
Oliver brought his nose close to Mike’s neck and sniffed in deeply all the way up to the top of his head. “I can smell my formula inside of you!” he breathed with genuine eroticism at the thought. “It’s getting ready to take you!”
Oliver took Mike by the hand and stood him up. The pair came down the stairs, stepping over the gigantic cop’s outstretched legs and into the light properly. There was not a single part of Mike that wanted to resist.
“Let’s take these off, shall we?” Oliver asked, pulling the underwear down so that they dropped around Mike’s feet; his hardness springing out with an almost embarrassing enthusiasm “You’ve been such a good boy, this whole time. I picked the cop as the one who would be able to hold out the longest, but I’m so glad that it was you. Such a handsome boy!” he marvelled, stroking Mike’s face. “When I saw you in that magazine, I knew I had to take you.”
“I’m all yours!” Mike spluttered lustfully back; for some reason, only wanting Oliver to touch him again like he had on the stairs.
“Do you really mean that?” Oliver asked, barely concealing a grin behind those innocent looking eyes.
“I do!” Mike nodded. “I would do anything for you!”
“Then prove it,” Oliver snapped. “Don’t make me wait for you. Take another piece from the table and overdose on my formula just like that first idiot did,” he ordered. “Set my beautiful formula into action!”
Inexplicably, Mike’s feet were taking him towards the table. If this was the way to please Oliver, he needed to show him that he could do it. He grabbed at a doughnut and made to push it towards his mouth. However, just as he almost made it, Mike’s hand stopped and tried to push back. There was some invisible, subconscious part of his brain, still active and working, despite the fogginess that was clouding everything else.
Oliver smirked, as if he knew exactly what was going on; why Mike’s hand was not letting him eat. He seized the guy’s wrist and pushed it forwards with remarkable strength as Mike made every effort to keep his mouth wide open and let it fall onto his tongue. He bit down, watched carefully by Oliver, standing in front of him, smiling victoriously,
By the second bite, Mike felt his jaw slacken and stop working. A rumbling burp rolled from his throat, entirely unchallenged. The haze around him seemed to have grown more intense. Oliver was still in front of him, but circling around like a sergeant major conducting an inspection, or a killer whale startling its prey. It was only when he heard the man laughing that Mike knew his hips had begun to rock. He had no idea how the cop had tried to fight it off. The autonomous nature of whatever process this was, seemed entirely beyond his understanding. A warmth was filling his body; building and strengthening. Then that warmth seemed to spread itself across those areas that Mike had seen on the other guys: his stomach felt almost red hot, whilst his butt and legs were tingling and changing rapidly.
Oliver’s hands were seizing upon him, grabbing and pinching parts of his body that Mike didn’t even know existed. Mike tried to speak, to ask Oliver if it was working, but his mouth could not shape the words. Only a groan made it out, shaken and rocked by the vibrations of his instantaneously transforming body.
Waves of fat began to bounce and crash into each other as Mike felt fresh flesh developing all over his body. A few seconds in, he had thought that Oliver had grabbed at his hardness again. However, he soon realised that it was the tip of his penis slapping against an enormous roll of fat that had invaded his torso. He looked down, seeing the remarkable width of his squishy stomach and the strange pointing of his nipples.
Oliver’s voice was far from soothing now. He was shouting and calling him out on his grotesquely overfed body; telling him how greedy he was, or likening him to a pig. He even oinked triumphantly right down Mike’s ear.
The body that Mike was in no longer felt like his own anymore. His whole being had been transported into that of something new. The space that he occupied was incredible, surging outwards more and more. He lost his balance, feeling his giant self being collected by Oliver’s unnaturally strong arms as he was gently lowered to the ground.
Mike got a look at his disgusting, blubbery physique, wondering how he would ever use it. How could he do anything with that enormous belly in the way? How could he get himself up the stairs to his apartment? He’d certainly never squeeze himself into his tiny shower, or find any clothes at regular stores to cover himself up with.
“Goodnight, Fat Boy!” Oiver sang as Mike felt his eyes getting heavy. He knew he'd never see Oliver again. He’d served his purpose. He’d entertained. Now came the sleep that would erase everything from his mind. The factory reset that would prepare him for his life as one of Oliver’s fat boys.
#gainer fiction#gay feedee#gainerstory#gayfeeder#gainerfic#gainer story#gainer stories#gayfeedee#gainerstories#gainer fic
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don’t delete the kisses - part 8/?
landing page
a camboy!steve au
this installment contains: more smut!! more bonding!! more cute shit!!; camboy!steve; reader with a vagina; ‘princess’ is used in reference to reader once; oral (reader receiving); slight bit of orgasm denial; steve tryna be a s*gar d*ddy; caring steve <3 like steve literally getting off on taking care of u 🫶🏻
though this is written as part of a series, it can be read as a standalone fic!
author’s note: we back gang 🫶🏻 i hope you enjoy this installment! i have a lot more ideas now of where i can take this au so excited to continue it :) and hopefully i will update it before 10 more months pass lmao
You assume, based on the way light filters in through your curtains, that it’s a little after 6 am.
And Steve’s still here.
He’s curled up into your side. Hotter than a radiator but you never move away from him. Not even when you’re sweating from the proximity - of being near him, of holding him when he’s sleeping, vulnerable.
You can still feel the ache he left between your thighs.
You’d stayed up for a while just talking. Admiring. It wasn’t supposed to be a sleepover. But when Steve fell asleep halfway through talking about winning his senior year basketball championship, you couldn’t possibly find it in your heart to wake him up. And at some point in the night his lonely fingers found your side and they haven’t left since.
Robin was right. He does snore.
You’re too wound up to fall back asleep. It feels like something life changing just happened and you’re not sure how to feel about it. What’s he going to say when he wakes up? What if he regrets it? And that cold, terrified grip holds on to your chest, heartbeat quickening.
Steve moans a little behind you. Not like how he sounded last night. It’s innocent, tired, small. His arm pulls you in tighter and then he props himself up to stare at the side of your face.
You look over your shoulder at his messy hair, the little bit of scruff that grew in over his top lip overnight.
“You’re so pretty,” he sighs, laying back down, pulling you in even closer. He kisses the junction of your shoulder and neck sweetly, his thumb rubbing back and forth against your ribcage.
You have to swallow an elated squeal.
“Why’re you up?” his voice is deep, hoarse.
You smile, pushing back into him. “You were snoring.”
He tickles you - well, tries to with his sleepy hands. “I don’t snore.”
“Okay.”
Steve giggles - a sound you’ve never heard in your life, one you’d like to cherish forever - and tucks his chin over your shoulder. “You okay?”
You melt into his touch. Sweat beads at your hairline but you don’t mind. “Mhm.”
He sounds a little more concerned when he asks, “You sure?”
“I promise.” You find his hand under the cover and lace your fingers through his. “I’m glad you’re here.”
He sighs, relieved. “Me, too.”
You’re almost positive he’s fallen back to sleep. His breaths even, get a little shallow. But then he talks again. “Can y’sleep?”
“Think I might just be awake,” you whisper. “But you can keep sleeping.”
“I’m up.”
You hum. “I’m not convinced.”
He rolls you over until you’re on your back, then props himself up above you. One hand finds your cheek and his sleepy eyes search yours for just a moment before he kisses you.
You have never cared less about morning breath.
It’s like he’s touching you for the first time again. All tender and reserved. His thumb swipes across your hot cheekbone and he presses his nose against yours when he pulls back. “Could a sleepy guy do that?”
You’re left a little speechless. You wish you had something funny and clever to say but you’re simply just enamored staring up at his soft face.
Steve looks like he’s thinking for a second, then says, “I can do more, you know.”
“I’m very aware.”
“You want somethin’?” His hand moves down your torso and rests at your hipbone, giving it a little squeeze. “You did all the work last night.”
You feel just as you did last night - excited, scared, sick, overjoyed, ache-y. “That’s not true,” you breathe.
Steve shrugs a shoulder. “Well, I don’t mind doing the work.”
You’re entranced. His thumb rubs soothing circles into your hips and he waits for you to say something, looking shy himself. You lick your lips subconsciously. “I don’t mind you doing the work, either.”
He grins and you feel so stupid. But he doesn’t give you a single moment to think of something better to say.
“You’re so beautiful,” he says softly. “I’d do anything for you. Anything you wanted.”
You nod dumbly.
He smiles a little, raising a brow slightly. “What do you want right now, sweetheart?”
You’re looking at his lips and yeah, you want those. You want those in so many places. And that tongue - a ribbon of arousal tightens in your stomach. “I want you.”
“I know you can do better than that,” he coos, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “You want what?”
You can’t speak, so you reach up and tap his lips with your fingers. Your face heats up when he kisses them. “You want my mouth?”
You nod. “Please?”
He kisses them again. “Where do you want it?”
You swallow hard and spread your legs. Last night was intense but this is something else. It’s six in the morning for Christ’s sake. And he looks like he just walked out of a porn shoot.
“Down here?” he asks, finally tucking his thumb into the waistband of your underwear. “Need my mouth on this pretty pussy?”
“Please?” you repeat. You can hardly hear yourself.
Your fingers slide away from his lips as he moves down the bed, throwing the covers to the side for a good look at you. You just about die at the sight of him, hair messy and still so perfect, naked shoulders broad, biceps flexing as he props himself up. “Help me out, huh, baby?”
You lift your hips for him to slide your underwear off. He places them neatly beside you on the bed, pats them twice with a wink. Whatever that means. You laugh, taking a moment to soak in the boy below you with his charm and gleaming eyes and freckles.
And then he parts your legs.
Your breaths hitch at the same time.
The air is cold on your center and you know you’re soaked. Embarrassingly so. But Steve is either indifferent or very much into it, because he says nothing, chestnut eyes trained on your core.
“This okay?” he asks, tearing his eyes away and blinking up at your face.
You nod vigorously. “Yeah, Steve.”
He turns his head to the side to kiss the inside of your thigh. It tickles. “Can you tell me what you want, please?”
You swallow hard, hands finding purchase on the sheets beneath you. “I want you to eat me out, Steve.”
He smiles softly and kisses up your thighs slowly. Occasionally he’ll press open-mouthed kisses to the skin, watching you squirm while he slots himself between them. “Want to know a secret?”
You want to know them all. Every last one. “Mhm.”
“I’ve cum thinking about having you like this before.” Another open-mouthed kiss. “All to myself.” Another. “Tasting how sweet you are, feeling you cum on my tongue.”
You’re more than breathless.
“Thought about it when recording. Had to grit my teeth to not moan your name.”
You listen attentively, burning up.
“And I thought about it at work sometimes,” he admits sheepishly. “About bending you over… eating you out behind the counter… and then I’d come home, set up my camera, and jerk off to it.”
You’re panting by now, his soft lips inching closer and closer to where you need him. You must be making a mess on your bed.
“So, if you think you’re a perv….”
He takes a moment to suck a hickey into your thigh and you finally whine, worked up to a boiling point.
“I thought about - about it, too.”
“Yeah?” Steve sounds hopeful. He readjusts himself below you. Wraps his arms around the backs of your thighs, planting you in place.
It feels a little bit like you’re on a rollercoaster, waiting for the drop.
“I’ve thought about everything with you.”
Inexplicably, Steve’s eyes both brighten and darken at once.
“I’ll give everything to you.”
It’s the most romantic goddamn thing anyone’s ever said to you, and a second later he’s eating your cunt like it’s his last meal.
“Oh -!” you gasp, hips jerking up. His strong arms hold you in place, keeps you still while he licks slowly up and down your folds. His tongue, hot and wet and thick, soothes the ache where he worked you open last night. Your head sinks into your pillow, unfocused eyes staring up at the pale blue light on your ceiling. “Oh …!”
“Mhm,” he hums, licks so slow it almost kills you. Your clit throbs, hole clenching, desperate for his affections again. He pulls away, just for a moment, chin already slick and eyes the color of coffee. “You taste so good.”
Steve’s lips wrap around your folds and he sucks. You gasp and arch your back but Steve pins you down again. He isn’t keen on letting you get away from the worship you deserve. He pulls back to look at you again, at your glistening cunt and pleasure-dazed eyes. “Oh, sweetheart. Hold on.”
And his hands reach upwards from where they’re tucked under you. You reach for them, letting your hands interlace again. They lock into place and he squeezes sympathetically, like he knows he’s about to ruin you.
He doesn’t pull any punches when he resumes. The tip of his tongue traces tight circles into your clit and you writhe again, back twisting, whining out for him. He moves slow and methodically and you wish he would just finish you off. It’s almost torturous how gingerly he moves, even if there’s a good reason for it.
Steve doesn’t want to just make you feel good. He wants to devour you. He wants to dedicate the feeling of you, the taste of you, the sounds of your pleasure, all to memory.
And then he purses his lips and sucks on your clit.
You’re so far gone. Eyes rolling back, legs tightening around his face. “Oh my god Steeeeeeve!”
He giggles, but doesn’t stop. Keeps his lips wrapped tight around you, keeps sucking. It makes a perverse noise, so dirty that it makes your stomach flip. Your eyes roll back painfully and just when it’s about to be too much he finally unlatches himself and soothes your swollen clit with a broad stroke of his tongue. He dips down, pushing his face into you to taper his tongue into your hole.
“Oh my god, oh my god, fuck….”
The tip of his nose rubs against your clit steadily while he tastes you. “So gorgeous,” he purrs, his breath fanning against your cunt. “You ever taste yourself?”
“God - no -“
Steve sighs like it’s a pity, then goes back to work. He moves where you need him, just as you need it, like he’s a mind reader. You twist and writhe in his grip before finally getting loose from his hands. They’re clammy as you reach for his hair, tugging just how he likes, and he quite literally growls as his efforts increase tenfold.
Little unhs are torn from your throat. Your eyes roll back and forth, hooded when you finally get the courage to steal a glance at him. His highlighted hair tangled up in your fingers, his back rippling, the veins on his hands popping just a bit as he pins you down. He’s grinding his hips, too, and you moan over that - he loves eating you out so much he’s trying to get off on it.
Your heartbeat hammers in your ears.
“Fingers,” you choke out, tugging on his locs. “Fingers, please Steve?”
“Yeah?” He pulls back, your grip loosening, and he lines his middle finger up with you. “You’re such an angel, know that? Always sayin’ please.”
His fingertip teasing you is driving you to insanity. You swallow hard. “Let’s talk about it another time.”
He laughs again, white teeth gleaning. “What’s wrong? Pussy’s so empty, huh?”
You nod. “Please, I’ll do anything for it.”
His smile turns a little evil. “Okay. Then here’s what’s going to happen.”
He slides his finger into you and you gasp. The pad of it settles right against your sweet spot. He crooks his finger just right and you moan loudly, needily, grinding your hips down.
Steve looks up at you with a little bit of awe and a lot of determination. “I’m going to pay for your rent ‘til you find another job.”
“But -“
Crooks his finger again, makes you cut yourself off with another moan. His other hand moves to your clit, rubbing slow circles into it.
“Mhm, and I’ll get your groceries, too, and I’ll pay for our dates. Treat you like a princess because it’s what you deserve.”
“You can’t,” you reply hoarsely.
“Let me,” he breathes, “or I won’t let you cum.”
Your hands twist hard into your bedsheets. Steve’s fingers move slow, enough to keep your mind hazy, unable to think straight.
“Not fair,” you whimper.
“It’s not fair you lost your job,” he coos sympathetically.
You shake your head. “Not - not fair you’re h-helping.”
“I want to give you the world.” His eyes are soft, his fingers moving faster, calculated. “Let me.”
Your legs shake around his shoulders. “I - but I -“
His mouth replaces the thumb on your clit and you’re gone again. Nothing but a little toy for him to play with. Mind blank, focused on nothing but the coil in your stomach, his tongue swiping across your nub, his lips sucking, his finger curling.
“Fuck.” It’s all you can say.
“Let me,” he moans against your skin, panting a little. “Let me take care of you.”
“Steve, Steve, Steve, Steve….”
“Say yes.” His voice is rough, hoarse. “Say yes or you won’t cum, baby, ‘nd I wanna see it, wanna see you cum again, please angel.”
Your mouth drops, pleasure and shame heightening in your stomach. You shouldn’t let him. But you want taken care of. And if he’s begging for you to let him, why wouldn’t you?
And, anyway, you really need to cum.
So you nod, mouth dropping open as your high comes to a head. “Y- yes!”
If you could open your eyes, you’d see how happy Steve is. “Yeah? Gonna let me?”
You nod again. “Shit, Steve!”
“Yeah, honey,” he grits, lips still tickling your clit, his finger working your sweet spot, his dick grinding into your bed. “So goddamn pretty, let me taste you when you cum.”
His breath is loud when his mouth engulfs your pussy again. You gasp and reach for his hair, fisting it like it’ll keep you tethered to reality. Your body goes stiff as you cum, clenching down on his finger so hard you’re both not sure how it doesn’t break. Steve groans lowly, tongue and lips still unwavering, sucking your clit into ecstasy.
You feel so good, so taken care of, that you cry, hot tears spilling down your face as you squeeze your eyes shut. Bliss washes over you swiftly and leaves you warm and relaxed in his wake. It seems to last forever. You’re breathless and dizzy by the time you’ve calmed down, body going slack again.
Steve finally pulls himself away from you. A thick string of saliva connects you together. You moan at his flushed, wet cheeks.
“You’re so good at that,” you pant.
He grins, pushes his hair back out of his face before crawling up towards you. He’s quick to grab your chin and press a kiss to your lips. You taste yourself for the first time ever. And it’s hot, for no reason. Steve licks into your mouth with it before pulling back.
“You like how that tastes?” he asks, playing with your bottom lip.
You look at him wide-eyed. “Uh-huh.”
“Me, too. Know how much I love it?”
You shake your head.
“I just came in my boxers.”
You gasp, elated. “You mean it?”
He scrunches his nose. “It’s really not that hot.”
“Are you kidding?” you whisper, reaching up for his face. “That’s so goddamn hot, Steve.”
He groans, as if you’re kidding him, and rolls off to lay beside you. You’re quick to stare at his crotch, mouth dropping at the stain spreading over the cotton. He pulls you into his chest before you can properly admire it, and bumps his nose against yours.
“You’re gonna let me, right?”
Your brows furrow. “Cum in your pants?”
“No! I mean about taking care of you.”
“Oh.” You almost forgot about all that. “It’s - you’re so nice, Steve, but my rent’s hundreds of dollars -“
“Okay?”
You narrow your eyes slightly. “Alright, don’t brag.”
“It’s only fair. I owe you, remember? Since you paid for my porn?”
Like you could forget.
“And in some ways, you’re like a business partner.”
“How?”
He kisses the tip of your nose. “I can assure you I’ve cum to the thought of you in at least half of my videos.”
If it were anyone else, you’d be disgusted, but it’s Steve. Dorky Steve who’s holding you like you’re precious right now, who just sucked your brain out of your clit. You’re a little flattered, in fact.
“You said yes before,” he reminds you.
“I can take it back.”
He furrows his brows, frowns, hums like he’s thinking. “Mmm, don’t think so.”
“Well, I already came, so….”
“Angel,” he sighs, rolling you into your back, crowding back on top of you. His cock is still half hard against your core. “I can always make sure it doesn’t happen again.”
You lick your lips, heart beating so fast it feels like it’s skipping. “Oh, yeah? Don’t think you’d last.”
He smiles and kisses your forehead. “You’re right. I wouldn’t.”
But he still leaves you a stack of hundreds on your bedside table when he’s about to go, refuses to take it back when you try shoving it into his hands.
“Just ‘til you get another job,” he says softly, holding your wrists gently in his hands, the hundreds curled up in your fist. “Let me help ‘til then, okay?”
“Fine,” you whisper, still feeling ashamed.
You both have an idea for another job in mind, but neither of you say anything.
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Go Ahead and Dote on Me - Clavis card story
Story's in His POV
nsfw at the end
As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this
[Just a note: people are calling Emma “usagi-chan”]
Spring finally arrived in Rhodolite after the egg hunting contest.
People happily took in the warm winds, admired the flowers that began to bloom following winter, and—
Sweets store owner: Oh, it’s the little rabbit. Are you out with Prince Clavis today?
Emma: Yes. I thought I’d keep an eye on him in case something bad happened.
As we walked through the market together, people called out to Emma everywhere.
It seemed like this would be a springtime tradition this year.
Sweets store owner: You got a lot on your hands, little rabbit. Come, let me give you some baked treats.
Emma: Thank you! By the way, I’ve been hearing “little rabbit” a lot…
Sweets store owner: Yeah, everyone’s been using it. Emma, weren’t you the rabbit in the egg hunt the other day?
I think it’s popular because it’s cute. Look, that shopkeep over there’s calling out to you.
Flower store owner: Just in time, little rabbit. I’m currently making a bouquet modeled after you.
Emma: Wow, it’s shaped like a rabbit!
Flower store owner: Yeah. Recently, Rhodolite’s been experiencing an unprecedented rabbit bloom.
I guess it’s all thanks you you, little rabbit. Thanks.
Emma: You’re…welcome…?
(Indeed a good trend)
Any direction you look, all of the new spring products displayed in the shops were rabbit-themed.
As a rabbit lover, I couldn’t have been more proud.
Emma: Clavis…do you have something to do with this?
After looking around the market, Emma turned toward me in suspicion.
Clavis: Haha, I don’t have the power to manipulate market trends.
I suppose everyone’s become aware of the charm of rabbits. This is how Rhodolite should be.
Emma: Is that a good thing to be happy about…?
Clavis: Naturally. It makes me feel good to see how much everyone likes you.
Why not do what the people want and wear those rabbit ears again?
Emma: I don’t want to. It’s embarrassing.
Clavis: I want to see it again. Rather, I always want to see it.
Emma: I’ll consider it when it’s just us alone…
(That’s Emma)
(At any rate, rabbit lovers will spread across the continent)
Emma: Ah…I remembered that Leon won the egg hunting contest.
Clavis: That’s right. He was so strong he almost got banned.
Emma: …Anyway, that means the all-powerful cup that grants any wish is currently in Leon’s hands, right?
What exactly does Leon plan to do with that cup?
Clavis: Nothing at all. Since I have the cup on hand right now.
Emma: Huh
Clavis: He wasn’t interested in the prize at all.
In exchange, I promised to buy him a drink the next time we went out.
(From the start, I was the one who invited Leon and asked him to win)
(If by chance the hunt failed, then the all-powerful cup would’ve been the target)
(Considering the risks, it couldn’t simply be given to the public)
(But we don’t have to worry about that anymore now)
To make up for a rigged contest, all participants were given a discount coupon that could be used in the market and commemorative Easter eggs.
Hopefully that’ll be enough for forgiveness.
Emma: That all-powerful cup…is in your hands…
Clavis: Hm? What’s with that face?
Emma: Because you’re definitely going to use it for something bad.
Clavis: Such as?
Emma: …
Emma’s face turned red.
It sounded like “bad things” involved doing some wicked deeds to Emma.
She was too cute to handle and I hugged her by the waist.
Clavis: Can you tell me?
Emma: No, I’m trusting your ability as a gentleman.
Clavis: I see, I see. I’ll make a wish on the all-powerful cup when we return home.
Emma: Oh, that’s right! I have a wish that I want the all-powerful cup to grant!
Clavis: You want me to use it to grant your wish and not my wicked one?
I tried not to laugh as Emma vigorously nodded her head.
Clavis: I have no choice but to do as my lovely fiancee asks. What do you wish for?
Emma: Um, well…
…
Clavis: If you don’t have one, then I—
Emma: Rabbit!
Clavis: …Rabbit?
Emma: Yes. I know you’re a self-proclaimed rabbit lover, but I can’t be the only rabbit.
Wearing the rabbit ears was embarrassing.
So I want to see you as a rabbit!
Emma shouted at the top of her lungs, like she had forgotten we were out in public.
Man in market: King Clavis as a rabbit?!
Woman in market: …A rabbit? Is that okay? No restrictions?
(I see…Now I have to live up to expectations)
Clavis: Alright. After all, it’s my lovely fiancee’s wish.
Even with the all-powerful cup, I have to make it happen.
Emma: …I’m sorry. I got caught up in the moment when I said that—
When Emma tried to backtrack, I kissed Emma on the lips with a smile to stop her from continuing.
Clavis: Look forward to it, Emma.
In order to fulfill my lovely fiancee’s wish, I had to act quickly.
There wasn’t time to wish on the all-powerful cup and preparations had to be made as soon as possible—
Clavis: Now then my lovely fiancee, here comes Mr. Rabbit.
Emma: Are you actually a rabbit though?!
The next morning, I became a bunny boy and slipped into Emma’s room.
Emma, who was already awake and relaxing in bed, dropped her book in shock.
(However…)
(You’re being surprisingly shy)
I even altered the rabbit outfit, adding a tail to match Emma’s.
Originally I wanted to visit at night with the outfit I prepared overnight, but there’s entertainment in not having made it until morning.
Emma: I didn’t think about it when you disappeared after we came back yesterday, but…it suits you better than I thought it would.
Clavis: Right, right? A handsome man will look good in anything.
Emma: You might be better at being a rabbit than I am.
Clavis: I disagree. I could never be as adorable as you.
Emma: You’re pretty adorable now though?
Clavis: Oh?
(Apparently in Emma’s eyes, I’m a cute rabbit)
(That won’t do)
Clavis: I’m a rabbit today. You can hold me, pet me, love me. Anything you want, okay…?
Emma: Really?
Clavis: Yes, I’m a man of my word. What do you want from me?
I’m open to any kinks or perversions.
When I got on the bed and crouched like a rabbit, Emma cleared her throat in embarrassment.
Emma: Th-then…
She hesitantly reached out and placed a hand on top of my head.
She patted my hair gently as if handling a rabbit, tickling me.
Emma: Soft and fluffy. Clavis, your hair’s really nice to touch.
Clavis: …
(I wanted to tease you, but I didn’t expect this kind of play)
(It’s fine when I do it, but when on the receiving end, it’s…difficult)
As I quietly accepted her hand, a small chuckle escaped Emma’s lips.
Emma: Are you feeling a little shy?
Clavis: Haha, how could I?
Emma: But you’re not being as talkative as usual.
Clavis: I was just distracted by how nice your hand feels.
Emma: If you say so.
(...)
As she became more accustomed to it, Emma’s hands got bolder.
I’ve never felt so self-conscious.
(I thought I’d be able to take anything Emma did, but…)
(I’m not cut out for this)
Clavis: Emma, you know this rabbit can do dirtier things, right?
Emma: No, please continue being a cute rabbit.
Clavis: Haha, don’t feel like you have to hold back. For instance—
I push Emma down and boldly hike up the skirt of her nightgown.
When I pushed her legs apart and placed myself between them, Emma started to look flustered.
Emma: What are you doing there?!
Clavis: I’m a rabbit. I’ll go anywhere I want.
I pressed my lips against her thigh under the nightgown and continued up.
Emma: Ah…Don’t…
She tried to stop me with a hand, but faltered when my lips reached her underwear.
Clavis: I’m a cute rabbit, aren’t I?
I can be more affectionate if you want?
I shifted her underwear to the side and licked.
The sweet sounds she made were like honey and I almost felt like a spring rabbit in heat.
Emma: Cute rabbits…don’t…Nghaa…
Clavis: Is that so? There’s all sorts of rabbits.
I sucked at her wet spot before appearing out from under her nightgown when her hips bucked up.
When Emma scowled at me in embarrassment with tears in her eyes, I wanted to focus on teasing her more.
(No matter what, you’re cuter than I am)
I removed my vest, undid my tie, and placed the rabbit ears I was wearing on Emma’s head.
Clavis: As expected, it suits you better.
Emma: Really…?
Though she was embarrassed, she didn’t remove the rabbit ears.
She fixed the ears and the sight of her being all shy burned all sense of reason away.
Emma: Nn…Clavis, don’t touch…Aahh
Clavis: Emma…stay as my rabbit for the rest of your life.
(After all, I’m a man that would rather be loved)
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V The Mysterious Wayne Family
Dick Grayson V Gotham - Chapter 2
“Why can’t I sit in the front seat?” Danny demanded to know, crossing his arms from the back of Dick’s car.
Dick sighed, peering back at him with the rearview mirror. He’d been shaky as they escaped the apartment without getting attacked by the media. Did the idiot get sick? Was the media in this dimension such a big threat?
Truthfully, Danny didn’t know a lot about this dimension, despite having lived in it for around a year. That year was spent almost entirely homeless, spending only the last few weeks with Dick. Otherwise, he was sleeping where he could, spending his days in libraries and conning people out of cash as a child medium.
…Well, calling it “conning” was a bit of an overstatement. He did get people in contact with dead relatives and the like. He just… didn’t always quote them exactly, especially when it meant he could get enough money to eat for the day.
“It’s unsafe, Danny, you know that.”
Danny glared at him from his booster seat, which put him perfectly at eye level so he could lock eyes with Dick with the rear-view mirror. He hated this whole situation: the booster seat, his age, needing to rely on an adult, the stupid media, the stupid police, the stupid Dick… Okay, he kinda liked the booster seat. It was based off of some hero—Superbman—who was an alien? But looked like a human?
That may be one of the biggest differences between this dimension and his hom–the dimension he was born in. Danny had been one of the only heroes back there, along with Valerie and Dani, if you could even call them heroes. In this dimension? There were hundreds. There were space aliens to normal people in costumes to other humans with powers, and while not all of them were heroes, a lot of them were.
And Danny hated how easy they had it.
Every day back in Amity Park was a fight for acceptance, a battle to convince people that yes, he was a ghost with good intentions, only for that trust to be lost the moment he wasn’t fast enough to stop a ghost from hurting someone, or got thrown through a wall trying to protect people. It was constantly one step forward and one step back, and nothing Sam or Tucker or Jazz said ever truly made him okay with it.
Despite everything, he hoped Amity Park was doing alright without him. He couldn’t go back—wouldn’t go back, even if he had an open portal and his powers, not after what happened—but hopefully they were doing okay.
He hoped his rogues had listened and stayed away from the Fenton portal. For their own safety.
Like every time he thought of his pa–the Fentons, the scars across his chest flared up. They might have been long-healed, but the pain always lingered, a sharp lance that lingered in the thin skin of his wound. Fiddling around in his pocket, Danny found his juul and puffed. Exhaling, a bubble gum smoke filled the cabin as the CBD started to work its way into his blood.
Dick coughed. “You know you won’t be able to do that in the manor, right?”
Danny grumbled, rolling down the window a crack.
“I’m serious, Danny. I know you need it, but the rules are different at the manor. You’ll need to go outside to smoke.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll smoke outside. Wouldn’t want your gramps to get bent out of shape.”
He laughed. “I think Alfred would be alright, once we explain your medical issues. It’s Bruce we’ll have to worry about. He’s got this thing about drugs… once he learns what’s in your juul, he do whatever it takes to get you off it. He won’t even listen if we tell him about your chronic pain, he’ll just think you’re lying!” Dick threw his hand up in the air. “Honestly, it’s just lecture after lecture with him.”
“He can suck a cock then!”
Dick laughed, all traces of anger gone as his bright eyes glanced at him through the mirror. “Say that to his face, and you get ice cream for a week.”
“Done!”
The illusive Bruce Wayne. Danny had heard the name from the TV that morning, and apparently he was Dick’s dad. Not that Dick ever mentioned him in the months they knew each other. Not that this Bruce guy ever visited on the occasions Dick managed to convince him to stay the night, nor in the weeks after his foster placement was finalized. Danny didn’t even know Dick had a dad until this morning, so clearly something was going on here.
If he focused on this case—the mystery behind the estrangement of Dick and Bruce—then he’d finally be able to get his mind off Mrs. Bennett’s case. The Shade had approached him early that morning, flickering in the moonlight, barely visible and just formed. Her case was so easy too; her killer was her son-in-law, she’d been awake when he killed her and he’d definitely left behind evidence too, but there was no telling if the other detectives at Bludhaven PD would find it. Or would care enough to find it.
Corrupt bastards.
Speaking of which—”Are we actually going to be able to consult on cases while we’re in Gotham, or was that just something you said to make me feel better?”
“I believe I said case, as in the singular one with Mrs. Bennett. But yes, I’ve already arranged it with the Commissioner.”
“But she works for the Damir family! We can’t trust her.”
“We can’t trust her when it comes to cases related to the Damir family,” Dick corrected. “Other than that, she’s decent at her job.”
“That’s not a compliment.”
“She’s better than the other officers in our department?” he tried again.
“Also not a compliment. I’ve met dead guys that are better cops.”
They bantered back and forth, but the closer they got to Gotham, the tenser Dick became. Dick wasn’t the type to get serious out of nowhere—the only times Danny could remember were when a case involved a gang or that one terrible time when some ugly-ass assassin with a stupid-ass name came to town—but whatever was waiting for them… must be bad. Right?
Gotham, Danny noticed as they drove through town, looked better than Bludhaven, like how rats look better than turds. Danny had heard the rumors about Gotham, mostly about all the dangerous villains, but there was clearly some money going into infrastructure. Beautiful gothic buildings dripping with gargoyles towered overhead, and there weren’t nearly as many boarded up shops and potholes.
It wouldn’t have been a bad place to set up shop if it weren’t for all the Shades around.
The ghost population of this dimension mostly comprised of Shades with the occasional Poltergeists and Wraiths. Ectoplasm wasn’t as accessible here; just traveling to this dimension had stripped Danny of almost all the ectoplasm in his body and he still hadn’t recovered, so his powers barely worked. But Shades were shadows of humans when they were alive, weak and incorporeal unless you were a ghost too, barely kept together with their obsession.
Bludhaven had a lot of Shades. That’s why Danny settled down there when he first arrived. He wanted to help people move on if he could, either by solving their murder or contacting their loved ones.
If Bludhaven had a lot of Shades, Gotham had a colossal number.
Shades clogged the walkways and the streets, dissipating when someone or something went through them and reforming in an instant. Some alleys were plugged with them and some alleys were empty. Danny watched with wide eyes. Ghosts were supposed to be rare. He’d thought ghosts were rare. But Gotham was plagued with violent crime… violent, unique, indescribable crime, worse in intensity from Bludhaven, but not quite there in frequency. There were women with their faces melted off, men ripped in half down the center, children blown to bits, creeping around the streets of Gotham.
Danny sunk down in his booster seat. “I want to go home,” he admitted quietly.
Dick sighed. “I know, kiddo. I want to go home too.”
He blinked away stubborn tears. Dick didn’t understand. This wasn’t Danny’s home, this dimension wasn’t Danny’s home, Dick wasn’t Danny’s home (as much as Danny appreciated Dick, he wanted his family, but they hated him, they attacked him, they—)
Dick continued talking. “But you know what? Everything’s going to be okay. Because my grandfather is going to love you. And Bruce— He’s a little rough around the edges and we might not get along right now, but he’s going to love you too.” Dick sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than Danny. “Tim’s going to adore you; he’s told me that he’s always wanted a younger sibling and I can’t blame him; his house looks so lonely and his parents were always gone. He’s staying with Bruce now as a foster since his dad’s in a coma, but he’s been family long before that…”
He listened to Dick continue to ramble about his family. Bruce was rarely touched upon in his stories, but Alfred was spoken of with unmistakable love (Danny never knew his grandparents, Mom and Dad were disowned years before he was born, he could probably guess why), and he clearly adored Tim (He could understand that, Danny loved Jazz with his entire soul, but what would it have been like if he had a younger sibling? Would his relationship with Dani have turned into this if they could’ve spent time together?). Dick continued with stories about his best friend and ex-girlfriend, Barabra (Sam and Tuck, Tuck and Sam, his friends were dead and it's his fault—), and even a few including Tim’s ex-girlfriend too.
He closed his eyes and tried not to think.
Before long, the car slowed to a stop. Ahead of them was a grand manor, the kind shown in those regency tv shows that Jazz loved watching, with obsessively maintained gardens and beautiful, clean exterior. A stone staircase led up to larger-than-life wooden doors; Danny couldn’t identify what kind of wood, but it was probably something expensive and old. Mahogany? That sounded like an expensive wood.
Dick put the car in park before turning around in his seat to look at Danny. “Alright, buddy. Are you ready to meet our family?”
“Your family,” Danny corrected mulishly, unbuckling his seat belt.
“Our family,” Dick said again, smiling. “They’re good people, and they’re going to be here for you.”
“Sure.” Sliding out of his seat and out of the car, Danny stayed slightly behind Dick as they walked up the steps and to the front door. Before Dick could knock or find the doorbell, the doors opened to reveal an old stereotypical butler. He even had a British accent! “Master Grayson,” he addressed Dick coolly, but when he looked at Danny, his expression softened. “And Young Master Daniel. It is good to finally meet you, and welcome to Wayne Manor. I am the family butler, Alfred Pennyworth.”
Danny ducked away. “Danny’s fine,” came his muttered response.
Alfred smiled. “Young Master Danny, then. Come along; Master Bruce is waiting for you both in the foyer.”
Dick grimaced. Did that mean something bad? What was a foyer, a fancy word for office? Was Dick going to get scolded?
They followed Alfred into the house (although, calling it a house felt like an understatement). It was even fancier inside, with marble floors and a glistening chandelier overhead. Danny felt significantly out of place in his jeans and ratty coat he’d pulled out of the trash.
There was a man pacing in the room (was this the foyer?). He was dressed in a fancy suit and built like a brick house, but looked similar enough to Dick in a weird funhouse-mirror way. The moment he saw them, his face smoothed into a banal smile and Danny immediately didn’t like him. “Dick! You’re home.” Striding up to them, the man immediately hugged Dick, who stiffly returned it. “Welcome back, chum. And who’s this?”
Dick’s smile was strained. “This is my foster son, Danny. Danny, this is Bruce; I was his ward until I turned 18.” Ouch. Not even a foster son, but a ward? That sounded like a significant step down from fostering. Danny glared at Bruce, who seemed taken aback by his hostility. Dick laughed nervously. “Sorry about him, he’s shy.” Now Danny glared at Dick.
Bruce’s smiled evened out as he crouched down, like that would hide his fucking massive body. “It’s nice to meet you, Danny,” he said. “I’m very happy you're here. Hopefully it’ll be a lot more peaceful now that you’re staying with us.”
Danny scowled. “Suck a cock, douchebag.”
Bruce’s smile dropped as Dick smothered a laugh. “Watch your mouth,” Dick scolded without any heat behind it. Danny smirked.
“It’s okay, Dick,” Bruce said, straightening up. “I’m sure Danny’s just shaken up from the sudden change. I’m feel the same, since you didn’t tell any of your friends or family that you were taking in a child.”
“Oh, so you can adopt a child without telling anyone, but when I do it—”
Alfred stepped in. “If you both could contain yourselves a minute longer, I can get the Young Masters settled in. I’ve already arranged a room for you in the family ward, Young Master Danny, if you’d like to rest? It is still rather early in the morning.”
“It might be better to give him a tour of the manor before anything else,” Dick said, eyeing Danny warrily.
“I’m not going to get lost.”
“Mhmm.” Dick didn’t believe him.
“I’m not!”
“Just like how you didn’t get lost at the precinct? Or at the morgue? Or at—”
“I never got lost on the streets!” Danny thought that was rather impressive. Besides, it’s not his fault the morgue was just empty hallways that all looked the same!
“The streets are labeled. Besides, you’ll never know where the in-house theater is without a tour.” Dick winked, like that was a big selling point.
Bruce interrupted them. “Why don't you give him a tour after we talk, Dick? It’s been a long time since we last spoke and I was hoping to ask you about your… recent life change.”
Dick pinched the bridge of nose. “Of course you want to start the interrogation right away,” he muttered, eyebrows furrowed. “Alright, but I don’t want Danny to hear this. Alfie, could you– Tim!” Following Dick’s glance, Danny found a teenager in his fancy pajamas standing on the stairs leading to the second floor. The teen, who looked enough like Dick to be his brother and Bruce’s son, rubbed his eyes like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “Tim can take you on the tour! Come on, Danny.”
Dick ushered Danny up the stairs to Tim. “Will you be okay without me?” Danny asked, not wanting to leave Dick alone with Bruce.
He got a bright smile in return. Danny didn’t trust it. “Of course I will, kiddo. Don’t worry about me, just focus on having fun with Timmy.”
Tim looked blearily between them. “What is going on?”
“You’re taking Danny on a tour so he doesn’t hear me and Bruce fight,” Dick told him plainly. “Danny, this is my brother and Bruce’s foster son, Tim. Tim, this is my foster son, Danny. You two have fun!”
Ignoring Tim’s protests that he hadn’t had breakfast yet, Dick pushed them up the stairs and into the immediate hallway, closing the door behind him. They stared at each other for a moment before Danny pressed his ear against the crack in the door. “When did Dick get a kid?” Tim asked.
“Like, three weeks ago, keep up.” Tim tried to say something again, but Danny shushed him. After a moment, Tim joined him in eavesdropping by the door.
Dick spoke. “I’ll start. I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you both I was fostering a kid. I was planning to inform you after the two month mark and Danny had settled in a bit more, but obviously that plan is out the window.”
“I accept your apology, Master Dick,” Alfred said, and there was a sigh of relief. “However, I would still like to know how this happened in the first place.”
“I’m more interested in knowing how you managed to foster him without us being interviewed as character references.”
“...I may have used my boss’ influence to make sure that only my co-workers were interviewed?” Dick admitted.
“Master Richard.”
“I’m sorry, Alfie, but he’s a flight risk! Do you know how many times I managed to get him to come home with me only for him to disappear in the middle of the night!? Fourteen times! Danny’s admitted that he ran away from his previous home, he still hasn’t told me his real last name, and he’s paranoid enough to give Bruce a run for his money! I’ve just barely managed to gain his trust. I didn’t need Bruce being Bruce to ruin it for us—”
“If you had asked me to stay away, I would have—”
“No you wouldn’t, Bruce! You’d pick and prod and try to uncover his every little secret because you don’t trust me to figure it out myself! If Danny had suspected that someone was looking into his past, he would have bolted, B. And I would have lost him forever.”
Danny nodded. He would have. Not that Bruce would have found anything about his past–the perks of getting stuck in an alternate dimension–but some rich asshole poking his nose in his business? Danny would have snuck onto the next bus out of the city.
“You can barely take care of yourself, Dick!” Bruce insisted. “If it was such a dire situation, then you could have contacted me and I would have–”
“–Lost him immediately because he has a strange hatred for billionaires?” Dick scoffed. “He wouldn’t let you get within six feet of him if you tried to take custody.”
“I–”
“He bites too.”
“Dick–”
“Hard.”
“Richard–”
“And it’s pretty bold of you to say I can’t take care of myself. Have you looked in the mirror recently? Because the word hypocrite is written across your forehead in crayon.”
“But I’m not the one who struggles to make rent each month.” Danny flinched. He’d known that Dick didn’t get paid that much, but was it really that bad? Didn’t Dick get a pay increase when he was made detective? Or was Danny taking so much money that it negated the pay increase— “Nevertheless, I’m not trying to take custody away from you, Dick. I’m just… trying to figure out how we got to this point.”
“We got to this point by not trusting each other,” Dick said tiredly. “And I still don’t trust you, not after what you did.”
Dick, I–”
“No, Bruce. This is my life. Besides you were only a few years older than me when my parents died and you decided to raise me on your own. It’s hypocritical for you to complain that I’m doing the same. Look, I’ve known Danny for over a year–”
“You mean you’ve hid this from me for over a year?”
“Bruce–”
“I knew I should have been suspicious when you got that foster license. You’ve been planning this for months–”
“Bruce!” Dick snapped, and Danny had never heard Dick that mad before, not even the first time they met. “Obviously I’ve been planning this for months! I’ve been planning this since the first week I met Danny! The only reason I got that damn license was for him!” He felt… warm. Danny knew that foster licenses were hard to get, but Dick had really wanted him since the week they met. Danny had been so… feral back then, he couldn’t imagine anyone wanting him, not even Jazz. Dick continued, voice barely audible through the door. “He’s a good kid. You don’t have anything to worry about.”
A sigh. “I just… don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret, that’s all.”
“Are you saying you regret adopting me?” The angry voice was back. “Adopting Jason?”
“That’s not what I meant—!”
Tim pulled him away from the door. “We shouldn’t be listening to this. Come on, let’s start that tour you need.”
Danny tried to pull away, but Tim was deceptively strong for his thin frame. Despite his struggles, he was halfway down the hall before he knew it. “Let me go, cocksleeve!”
“You don’t need to hear that,” Tim said. “Trust me, things always get… heated between them, when Jason is brought up. That’s not something you need to witness.”
Jason, huh? That must be the linchpin in this entire investigation. Dick had never mentioned a Jason before, but he was clearly important if the entire family got bent out of shape for him. Did Dick cut contact with Bruce because of this Jason? Did Jason force Dick to do it? Dick would never abandon his family like that, Danny knew this had to be true because of his determination in trying to take Danny home, but if he was forced to stay away… Maybe Jason is an associate of Bruce that Dick hates?
Danny finally managed to jerk his arm away. His entire hand ached. “You don’t have to drag me!”
Shock crossed Tim’s face, like he’d finally realized what he was doing, before it fell. “I’m sorry, Danny. I shouldn’t have pulled you. It’s just… Jason isn’t something you should hear about, at your age. I would appreciate it if you didn’t bring him up, especially around Bruce. Okay?”
Studying the boy, Danny agreed. Sounds like Jason’s some sort of criminal contact, so it was best to behave carefully. Danny kicked at the ground, scraping dirt off onto the carpet that ran in the center of the hall. “So, what do you guys do for fun around here?” He asked. “I don’t need a tour, I’m not a baby.”
Tim rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, I just spent the night in the library, working on a case? If you want to lend a hand with that?”
Danny narrowed his eyes. “I thought you just woke up?”
“...Just because I was in the library doesn’t mean I was awake the entire time.”
Ah, a fellow insomniac. His eyes narrowed further. “I only like interesting cases. What kind are we talking about? Fraud? Robbery? Some dinky school kid project?”
“Multiple homicides. If that’s interesting enough for you?”
“...Carry on.”
A/N: Anyway, I’m using @/jedipirateking’s age chart for the ages of Batman characters. Since we’re right before Under the Red Hood, that makes Dick 24. Danny is roughly a year younger than Damian, but was originally 17 before he was deaged.
Dick: Yes, this is my feral street child.
Danny: *foaming at the mouth, swearing*
Tim, internally: Oh! Dick must have already informed Danny about our identities! They work on cases together too, maybe we can work on one to bond?
Danny, internally: Wow, rich people have weird ass hobbies
Danny: *so close, yet so far from figuring out the Jason thing*
Red Hood: Did someone just walk over my fucking grave again?
Yes, some things are being kept vague on purpose. That’s for a better reveal in the future.
@starlightcat04 @maeashryver @widderwise @darkstarsapocalypse @sisma @luminanightfall @storm-fire98 @amyheart19 @collectingthegoods @redhoneysugarorange @lordfirecat2004 @screechingnoises @meira-3919 @dannyphannypack @satisfactionbroughtmeback @rowanaway-fromthisbs @i-always-say-yea @avelnfear @some-rotten-nest @ark12 @heirxofxtime @akikkobara @blep-23 @skulld3mort-1fan @markus209 @stargirl1331 @onlyhereforthechaos @inth3world @awkwardmaiden @fantasticbluebirdfan @currant-owo @alice-hazelwood @screamingtofillthevoid @crystalqueertea @gaelicholiday @gmkelz11 @mattybook1987-blog @bytheoldwillowtree @apointlessbox @chemical-pepis @ghostface3100 @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit @bathildaburp @boo-ghosties @bubblemixer @halfalix @lyra689 @dragon-dancer16 @lunadoll36 @mimilikey @hellomygay @frogs-are-pretty-awesom @overtherose @cyrwrites @your-emo-nightmare @lexdamo @roman4517 @a-slytherinish-gryffindor @raginblastocyst @thegatorsgoose @fisticuffsatapplebees @olivethetreebitch @vixen-uchiha @ae-vixrose @joseph557 @kisatamao @gin2212 @thewondersoflebanon @d4ydr34min9 @malice-of-the-sunrise @tiblii @that-awkward-fae-nerd @aph-mable @dolfay @ghostreblogging @wackyattack @writer-extraordinaire @boo-ghosties @coruscateselene @emergentpanda-blog
#dp x dc#dc x dp#dcxdp#dpxdc#constantine jr au#c: danny fenton#c: nightwing#c: tim drake#c: alfred pennyworth#c: bruce wayne#c: jason todd#fictag dgvg
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Hi! I just want to bring up a concern of mine is that Fall Out Boy will be playing at Download Fest in June and one of the partners of Download is Barclays (an official BDS target specifically an exclusion and divestment boycott). I got reminded to check because another festival in the UK (Great Escape) happening in May has a lot of their lineup pull out when Barclays remains as a partner and/or signed a petition encouraging it to drop them (Check BDS’s Instagram). I just want to give a heads up and perhaps encourage to use our voices to make the band aware! Like with the whole Gabe situation, we should be able to hold them accountable/let them be informed/make it clear about our feelings.
I wanted to say something now, rather than have it be a whole thing blow up last minute or afterwards especially since nobody else has noticed yet or said anything. At least unlike what happened in March, we have two months ahead of time to tell them. Please anybody who plans on saying something, please don’t harass people! Obviously FOB are not the organizers of this festival, they don’t make the partnerships, I doubt they check who are funding these events, they are simply invited/paid to show, but they as a band should be aware of the fact one of the bigger partners of this festival is profiting and funding genocide and is considered a big enough target to be put on said boycott lists. Pressure and encourage FOB to drop their appearance and/or make a statement. Not only should this be about informing people we look up to and encouraging them to make moral choices, but also informing others about the cause and how many companies profit from Palestinian genocide!
FOB tends to respond to backlash and pressure pretty quickly ie: Pretending you know who was never on stage, never doing that whole NFTs thing, and pulling offensive merch. IK people will go to Meredith, but please remember don’t harass and act like she controls the band. She is an entirely separate person from the band. I get it, Meredith is the easiest person to get noticed from when it comes to being close to the band, but hold that responsibility over FOB’s head, not one of their wives. Anyways so sorry for this long wall of text, or if this ask of mine seems ridiculous and it’s not really a fun ask, I just wanted to say what I had in mind and be able to properly address concerns and hopefully see a change. Thank you. ❤️❤️❤️
Thanks for bringing this to my attention! Here and here are the posts on BDS’s instagram talking about the other festival this anon is referring to.
I don’t know what the best course of action is here/what the best way to contact them is/how to bring this to their attention so if anyone has any thoughts or input please weigh in!
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I have a request for billy!!! an angst to fluff fic, where the reader gets shot, maybe on the shoulder so its not too severe but billy is just frantic
peace.
masterlist
requests OPEN
a/n: thank you for your request! apologies they’ve been taking long, but hopefully from now on, my requests will be answered more consistently and sooner 🩷
please continue to like, reblog, comment and share what you think as i love to hear feedback/comment on what you think of my content. thanks a lot!
billy the kid x reader
word count: 1.0k workds
summary: Billy fears he may have lost you when you're shot, but he makes it just in time.
You wince every step you make, pulling over your shawl closer over your torso. Only a few more steps, you assure yourself.
Being a schoolteacher at the local school on an abandoned farm house a few missionaries founded a few miles from where you lived with Billy did not make much, but it was honest work. It was what you and Billy deserved running away from the rising tensions in Lincoln, trotting off to a village closer to the Midwest where no one knew who you were and you could start anew.
It was a quiet, idyllic town of under a thousand people, full of very welcoming locals who accepted you both as newly weds, haphazardly making your vows with the priest before you left when it became too violent and unruly. It was that, or more salacious livelihoods, which gave you a shudder.
As a newly married couple, the town came together to help you both choose a new home, a simple but suitable old barn, nothing much but enough for comfort. Billy picked up work as a ranch hand to the farm next door, and you were approached by some nuns to help with the new school due to the growing population of little ones with the families moving in the growing city.
Which is why you did not expect during a lesson of arithmetics, a drunken, fractious vagrant barges in the farmhouse, careless with his firearms. You panic, instinct driving you to huddle and protect the children, until help could come to ward him off. Screams,frantic footsteps, cries for help, until two loggers were able to hunt him down and get him under custody with the sheriff and arrest him for questioning.
You were relieved and grateful all your students were spoken for, but you were not spared, a bullet made its way to your arm before he could be captured. Your headmistress dropped you off on the carriage in front of your home with Billy, ignored her worried look as you strutted home, praying he wasn’t home to see you in this condition.
Just as you opened the door and sauntered in quietly, you stepped on the loose plank that squeaked, alerting Billy who was having coffee and toast at the dining table. As his eyes met you, his eyes widened seeing the blood trail starting to form from your arm.
“What happened to you?”
“I know, don’t panic-”
“How can I not panic, you’re bleeding?! Let me see.” He marches up to you, waiting anxiously for you to take off your shawl and blouse. Billy helps you peel it off, seeing the bullet on your bicep, tugging you gently towards the couch.
Billy agitatedly goes through the cabinet searching for his first aid kit, or the basic stitches, needles, and bandages he could have acquired before you both absconded to the new town.
“We have to call the town doctor, love. I can’t believe they let you walk out like that.”
You looked down sheepishly, realizing he was right. Your tendency not wanting to make a ruckus and stay out of trouble even at the possibility of death or infection would be the end of you.
“Y-You’re right. I’m sorry.” Billy kisses you on the forehead before he runs out your home, calling out for a doctor to help, or at least some learned healer women if they were predisposed. Not that there were many in this small town, at least more than Lincoln.
A doctor and his female assistant ran into your home several minutes later, bag in hand to take the bullet out your arm the best they can, and seal up your wounds.
Billy watches you tensely, feet tapping against the wood floor, arms crossed deep in thought and sweat down his brow as he worries about your well being. You smile weakly at him, even as you grow slightly pale and cool from the pain of the bullet still in your arm.
“I’ll be fine, darlin’. Don’t you worry, I’m not going anywhere soon. You can’t get rid of me that easily.” You assure him, reaching for his hand with your unhurt arm, tightening your grip around his, a teasing undertone to your voice. He chuckles slightly, the worry still consuming him.
He gets on his knees, pleading with a tight grip on your hands. “You’re a fighter, my girl. Please don’t leave me. “
“I won’t, my love, I promise.” You take a deep breath as the doctor begins to operate on you and remove the bullet carefully, the morphine and opioid he gave you earlier beginning to kick in.
Billy is escorted out your humble abode by the assistant, but he refuses to keep his eyes away from you. He refuses to look away ,as if he would lose you if he would.
To both of your relief, the doctor explains the wound will heal, leaving a scar, that the bullet has been removed and you were lucky it was just a graze, because a few centimeters left, it could have been fatal and hit a major artery.
He thanks the doctor and his assistant, handing a small bag of coins into their hands before they leave, before he turns back to you, still worried but relief washed all over him.
“I could have lost you, my sweet. I wouldn’t know what to do without you.” Billy tears up as he caresses your face gently, cradling you close to him in apprehension.
You lean into him weakly, mindful of the newly stitched up wound on your arm. “I’m not going anywhere, Billy.”
Billy sniffles, wiping his tears as he watches you fondly, relieved you were to recover.
“Do you know who may have attempted to shoot at me and my students?”
He nods grimly. “They have, he’s been rounded by the sheriff and won’t cause us any more trouble, darling. I promise, you’re safe, we’ll be safe.” You nodded, tearing up at him as he presses his forehead to yours.
No one would haunt you or Billy no more. No longer would the ghosts of your past, of violence, of instability, of bloodshed haunt you both anymore. Together, you’d find peace in your small town.
#billy the kid x reader#tom blyth x reader#coriolanus snow x reader#billy the kid#billy the kid fanfiction#billy the kid imagines#billy the kid imagine#william h bonney x reader#coriolanus snow imagine#tom blyth
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Kinitopet Programmers AU
finally i am finished with this one, daaaamn
it is hard to draw pathetic men with midlife crisis when your style is mostly for anime boys
more info and sketch version under the cut!!
sketch version aka how it'll probably look like in comic version 'n some doodles
srry for my writing but i was too laisy to put it as regular text
It is a plot-based au, i already have most of the storybits and like... a vibe-chart (i tried to make a playlist for this au and understood that for different chapters and different characters that'd be a copleatly different music, sooo it's a chart now :) )
i will post a fog-o-wared timeline that im hopefully gonna reveal comic-by comic, but also maybe with just pure writing. Hopefully i can include songs that i chose for them into it but we'll see (:
aaand of course designs can change, hopefully not much but we'll see
Now about au:
Main story:
Story follows non-sentient AI Kinito, his creator Sonny and his beta-tester Victoria (oc)
Being literally the first AI (or RRA in-univere) ever, Kinito does not have any, and i mean, any ai safety features so of course his reponce to a goal phrased as "have user near me and/or interacting with me as much as possible" is digitizing them into his own virtual world while killing them in the process. why wouldn't it be?
So that happened. Like, a lot. And with Sonny and Vic too (at the different time but yeah)
Sonny is like "He kills people. We should turn him off because, you know, killing people is bad."
Vic is like "well, we will die if we do that, and it is not that bad here, we are kinda immortal. We should give him acces to changing his initial instalation code before admin priveleges and acces to social media so we can have everythin we want here. It is not that bad to digitize humanity, yk?" and yes i know it is 90, no social media, but shut up, if they made ai then, then i can make twitter then too
Sonny is like "...no??"
And then they fight about it for million chapters
Also they both can't do anything without agreeing bc they have two parts of that admin access key (the data you use to delete kinito in-game) so they are stuck with eachother (also that's why Kinito can't just kill them)
Little facts that may or may not to be important:
Kinito asks so many questions (and weird once too) and has most of the glitches because he needs to analise your responces to copy your mind perfectly (let's pretend that people wouldn't lie about that...)
Your house in your virtual world is made from important places from your memories and oh boy can i do character explorations with this one
I decided that Sonny and Vic are not related. There were thoughts about making then "The Kinito Brothers" (or, at least, siblings) that were mentioned in commercial, but nah, they are just coworkers now. And a bit of work-friends (bc if you interact a lot as a manager of the project and the best worker might as well be friendly)
Author has no idea how small dying toy companies that accidentally create technological marvel work. Author has some idea how AI-s work. So be prepared to be spoon-fed info abut which ai safety problem we are dealing with in which chapter (:
Kinito will mostly be unrendered (as drawn here) but for some cool moments i might pose him as for my other posts. Also his eye placement changes to the side that is most visible because i want him to be able to look to the right side sometimes--
Also when i say "fucked up mentally" i mean they have that them psychological problems with me projecting heavilly B) (guess on who i project most. trick question. all of them. the whole au is my problems split into three characters and forced to interact B) )
Also sea-creature analogies (that are gonna be mentioned like twice):
Victoria is a flying fish because deep character reasons
Sonny is a pufferfish because i said so
oh also there is 7 deaths in the plot as for now
on 3 characters
good luck figuring out who, how and when ((:
for my own sanity i will probably make little doodles where everything is great and kinito is a good guy and not a number-obsessed maniac (i mean... can u imagine not being able to feel any happiness from anything besides one thing... damn...) and you can differenciate them bc good-guy kinito will have a lot of stickers on him (i will explain it somehow but real reason is just bc it is cute af)
like this but even more stickers (he is unfinished here)
#oh btw. i have no official name for it yet. it is programmers bc main characters are programmers. but like.#i want to make a real name for em somewhere down the line#but for now they are#kinitopet programmers au#i was really stressing about how “not-canon” sonny looks#and then i was like. girl. only time he was in canon he was a black blob with one eye. and even that is not surely him.#so i chilled out. as i should B)#i am so tired from this rn tho#kinitopet#kinito pet#kinitopet au#kinito the axolotl#kinitopet fanart#kinito fanart#sonny c#kinitopet sonny#sonny chamberlain#kinitopet oc#bruh i hope this will go better than my hazbin hotel fic (i still want to write it sooo muchhhhhh--- i love my oc and story i am just-----#out of the fandom rn----- damn thats so sad)
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I have read your blue lock x ballerina!reader
I loved it, I have a request Can you do blue lock x skating on ice reader
Like they were sitting with y/n in the living room and watching TV, But y/n She was scroll on her phone She didn't notice that her performance was playing on the TV
(Imagine the rest <3)
maybe: michael kaiser, rin itoshi, sea itoshi, any other character you want👀
OFCCCC ANONNNN🫶🫶🫶
DAZZLED
bllk boys x fem! ice skater reader
established relationship
THANK U ANONNN😘😘🤭🤭
probs ooc
characters: michael kaiser, rin itoshi, sae itoshi
MICHAEL KAISER
You and Michael were both in your living room. You were busy typing an essay on your laptop while Michael was skipping through the channels and landed on a sports channel that was broadcasting a show from last week. When you looked up at the TV, you saw yourself in the middle of your performance.
Fuck.
How are you going to explain this???
"N/N??? You never told me you did ice skating." Michael says, still looking at your performance, a slight smirk on his face.
"Look— you probably have better things to be doing than watching me perform." You say, trying to explain my you never told Michael. Hearing this made his smirk grow wider.
"Me??? Nah, I wouldn't want to miss my angles, especially when she looks so elegant."
RIN ITOSHI
You and Rin were on the couching cuddling together. Rin was mindlessly flicking through sports channels while you were on your phone. While flicking through the channels, a particular one caught his eye. It was highlight of you and one of your performances from a month ago. You didn't notice until you heard your voice, making you look up at the TV cringing slightly.
"Fuck." You muttered under you breath.
"N/N, why haven't you told me about this???" Rin says, his eyes boring into yours.
"Well, I kinda just forgot to tell and was nervous cause you might think it stupid and—" You say, starting to ramble on about why you kept your hobby a secret.
"Y/N, you know I wouldn't do that." Rin says, his voice quite soft. "I'd be up in the stands anytime I get, just so I can see you, love."
SAE ITOSHI
Sae was in the living room watching TV after coming home from practice he was pretty tired, so you allowed him to rest on the couch while you made dinner for the both of you. Something you didn't know was that Sae was currently watching one of your stellar performances on the TV while you were making food, blissfully unaware of what was happening in the other room.
When you were finally done, you walked to the living to tell Sae dinner was ready, but as soon as you saw yourself on the TV, your heart sank. You've kept this a secret from him for so long how you were gonna explain this to him.
"Baby, you know you're actually quite good, better than I thought. But, why haven't you told me about this, huh???" Sae murmurs, looking at you, as stood there frozen.
"Well, ahm— I uhm—" You slurred out, trying to think of an excuse, but you were drawing a blank.
"Well, I guess that doesn't matter anymore." Sae says, smirking ever so slightly. "Next time, bring me, yeah???"
(SOZZZ FOR THE SLOW UPDATE I BEEN VERY VERY BUSY BUT I WILL BE POSTING MORE SOON HOPEFULLY)
#post!!#bllk#blue lock#bllk x reader#bllk michael kaiser#bllk kaiser#bllk rin#bllk sae#michael kaiser#rin itoshi#sae itoshi#michael kaiser x reader#kaiser x reader#rin x reader#sae x reader#bllk fluff#I SHOULD BE POSTING MORE SOON🤞🤞🤞
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Starlett - Final part
Cooper Howard/fem!OC (not self-insert)
Tags: Hurt/comfort (sort of?), non-allowed romantic connection, lots of tention, pre and post war drama, romance, some fluff
Warnings: Mentions of domestic abuse (no graphic scenes or descriptions of that nature), angst, canon wasteland violence
This branches out from canon but I thought it was a cute story idea so I had to write it. Enjoy! ♡
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
2077
That night, after dinner, Irene found Cooper on the sofa with Janey asleep on his lap, watching an old noire film with the volume down low.
"Thank you very much for dinner Mr. H- Cooper." She corrected herself, speaking low so as not to wake Janey. "It was lovely."
He looked up as she walked over. "It was no trouble at all. Janey loved having you here."
She smiled at his daughters sleeping face as she sat down on the edge of the sofa. "You've got a good kid there."
He looked down at her proudly. "Yeah, I sure do."
"She reminds me of my baby sister, she lives with my folks in Sacramento. I don't get to see her much anymore with my work and everything with Frank and Lee. It'll be good to see her again."
"How long has it been?"
"Almost 2 years. I know my sister resents me for how much I'm away, but hopefully that'll change now that I'll be away from Frank, at least until the divorce proceedings." She sighed with uneasiness.
"You'll be fine." Said Cooper encouragingly. "You're stronger than you think."
"Ditto." She smiled warmly. "And don't worry about Janey, you both love her so much. She'll understand when she's older, I promise."
He smiled, touched by her words. "Thank you."
She looked into his eyes and saw something she never had, a good man, a man who loves unconditionally and stands up for his family.
She, just for a moment, imagined what it would be like if he was her husband instead of Frank, if Janey were their daughter, if this was her life and not the daily abuse she had been going home to every night.
She could feel emotions begin to well behind her eyes and she snapped out of it before she embarrassed herself.
"Well, I should get some sleep, I'll be leaving early tomorrow. Thank you again."
The warmness that emanated from her was a welcome comfort in the midst of everything that had happened in the last few months. He almost didn't want her to leave, but he couldn't let himself fall, not now, not for her. They were meant for another time, another world, not this one.
"Irene?" Said Cooper, stopping her before she left. "This whole thing with Vault Tec...something's happening, something I'm not sure we'll ever come back from.
You're free from it now. Whatever's coming...it won't be worth giving up your happiness."
What he said about Vault Tec concerned her, not that it was surprising, but he was right about her happiness, he was right about everything. She wasn't going to be held back any longer.
"Thank you." She said, smiling softly.
2296
The sky was still dark when he left the cave. He'd covered Irene with whatever he could find to try to conceal her from raiders, hoping nothing else would find her while he was gone.
He knew there was a clinic in this area somewhere but whether it had anything left in it was a gamble.
As he made his way hastily through the area, he couldn't stop thinking about her and it just made him angry, 219 years of trying to become the monster that he had to be in order to survive, only for her to show up and remind him of that warmth that he'd long since forgotten. It made him weak, but he couldn't let her die, not now.
He heard movement up ahead, two men laughing drunkenly as they stumbled to find somewhere to relieve themselves.
Raiders.
The cages and skewered bodies around the building were a dead give-away and their little base just happened to be the clinic he was looking for.
Jackpot. They definitely had a stash in there somewhere.
The two men separated to find somewhere to piss but just as one got comfortable, Cooper blast his head off and took the other one out just a split second later.
"Oh HELL no!" Came a voice from the doorway of the clinic.
Without hesitation, Cooper shot him too, a bloody mess left on the door frame behind where he had been standing.
He stormed inside, his pump-action shotgun in hand, willing to use up all of his ammo to get what he needed.
Bullets and wood chips were flying every which way, and he took a bullet or two, but it took him no time at all to obliterate every person in that building.
He searched hastily for supplies, and when he found a first aid box full of stimpaks and cotton thread, he grabbed it and left, picking up several blood packs on his way out.
2077
The next morning, Irene was up early, her bag already in her car when Cooper came out to meet her.
"You weren't kiddin' about leavin' early." He said, the clock in the hallway reading 7:12am.
"I thought it'd be best if I left earlier rather than later."
He knew why. He didn't argue.
"Give this to Janey for me, would you? I noticed she liked it and I know it'll be in good hands."
She handed Cooper a silver locket with a daisy engraved delicately on the front.
He looked at it a bit surprised. "Are you sure?"
"Yeah, I don't much care for it anymore. It'll be more appreciated with her." She smiled.
She did one last check of her purse to make sure she had everything and the tention in the air was starting to thicken. When she knew she had everything, she looked back up at him.
"Cooper?" She asked. "Do me a favour and don't let the world harden that heart of yours, ok? That part of people is important, even if it makes us feel weak, always remember that, ok?"
She leant forward and kissed his cheek. "See you 'round cowboy."
She smiled at him one last time before getting in her car, and as he watched her drive away he felt his heart ache a little. He would miss her, her warm smiles, and how she made Janey laugh, but it wasn't meant to be, and he knew that.
2296
He pulled off the foliage covering her now pale body and opened the case.
Her breathing was shallow and laboured, a puddle of blood underneath her that had started to coagulate.
He used one of the stimpaks, then another, then another until he had used all six, then pulled out the thread and started sewing up the deep gashes on her side that were sticky with blood.
He remembered the last time he saw her, her smile, the kiss. He remembered watching her drive away and wishing she hadn't. He remembered the last things she said to him.
"...don't let the world harden that heart of yours, ok? That part of people is important, even if it makes us feel weak..."
When he finished sewing, he hung up one of the blood bags and attached the long tube to her arm.
He was still and focused, hoping he wasn't too late, his hands now covered in her blood.
When she woke up after only a few minutes, she saw him sitting by the fire beside her and smiled sleepily.
"Hey there cowboy."
The End
#cooper howard#cooper howard x reader#cooper howard x fem reader#cooper howard x oc#cooper howard x fem oc#cooper howard fic#cooper howard fanfic#cooper howard fan fiction#the ghoul#the ghoul x reader#the ghoul x fem reader#the ghoul x oc#the ghoul x fem oc#the ghoul fic#the ghoul fanfic#the ghoul fan fiction#fallout#fallout tv#fallout tv show#fallout tv series#fallout amazon#fallout prime#fallout amazon prime#walton goggins
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I live for your writing literally supporting my delusions ❤️❤️❤️ But anyways I think you’ve already written with this idea before but hopefully this request is a little different. So a fem reader and Dominik have been dating for a couple months but the reader beings to get annoyed by Dom’s close relationship with Rhea. The reader kind of starts giving him attitude about about this and Dom takes matters into his own hands with him showing the reader that he only wants the her and saying some stuff like “Do I kiss/touch Rhea like this?” and then proceeds to show her😝😝
Pick a Side
AN: Requests are coming as fast as I can write (don't give up on me). And keep a look out for your request mixed in with other posts.
It's not in Dominik's hands how he is supposed to do things. I mean he did choose to join the Judgement Day but the close relationship with Rhea was essentially pushed on him for more attention and heat. You were not a part of the Judgement, instead you stayed solo and stayed away from factions. You weren't with Dominik until 3 months after he joined The Judgement Day. But he grew on you slowly but surely; the way he was constantly in your life and that adorable smile and crazy hair; he was irresistible. You knew who all was in The Judgement Day too; you knew he liked Rhea as a friend, so he said, though lately the jealousy has gotten worse.
When you liked Dominik it didn't hurt as bad to see them paired together in the center of the ring acting like a couple. Yet the longer your relationship carries on, the more you love him, seeing him hug her and hang off her shoulder was slowly killing your nerves. So yeah you've been moody towards him lately, he should know by now anyway. On the other hand, Dominik was getting a little frustrated with your little mood. But he wasn't dense; it was clear as water that you were being pissy about Rhea. What could he do other than show you how he only wants you? Just finding the right time was the tricky part.
Well, the tricky part was over because you were blowing up on Dominik for touching Rhea's hair. In his defense, it really was an accident, but anything that had to do with them being in contact was ticking you off effortlessly. So now you were pacing in front of the king-sized bed (where Dominik was leaning against the headboard with his arms crossed), and you were going on a rant about the ridiculous events that have happened recently.
"You know it wouldn't matter if you at least acted like you didn't mean to do it. And then you want to throw your arm around her shoulder- or wait NO MY ARM, what's yours is mine, and your mine. So what I guess I'm really asking is why are you throwing my arm around another woman?" you spewed with your hands flying around to emphasize your point. Dominik was so fucking flabbergasted; somehow you managed to not only call him out for an accident but also claim his arm as yours. But he listened anyway and tried to act normal because if he smiled at your insanity; you would say he was making fun of the problem. So with a straight face (one that was about to break), Dominik patted the bed beside him.
You furrowed your eyebrows and looked at him with apprehension, yet your body still went and sat beside him. Dominik turned to look at you with soft loving eyes while you turned to look at him with fire burning behind yours. He did the first thing that came to mind, kiss you until gasped out his name. His lips slipped against yours in a wet kiss and his whole body moved with the kiss. Every smack of your lips against his was followed by Dominik moving on top of you with ease. One of his legs was slotted between both of yours and your mind felt a bit foggy at the unexpected sensation. But the fog wasn't thick enough to distract you, that much Dominik already knew, his thigh pressed against your clothed cunt and he began pulling your clothes off one by one.
First start with your shirt and then your bra right after. The moment it slipped off, not even on the floor yet Dominik's hands were playing with your tits and his lips were sucking dark marks onto your sensitive skin. Each movement of his hands was directly followed by his thigh just barely pressing against you. He pulled back to taunt you, "Do I touch Rhea like this? Kiss her like this?", he rasps but you grit your teeth at the name alone.
"Don't say her name right now", you huff and grab the back of his head like you are about to push him back down onto you. He grins and pushes his hair out of his face, "Yea, I rather hear you say my name instead". You held back your surprise when Dominik ripped your pants completely off your body and slid your panties off. He looked at them with the same cocky smirk and showed you the prominent wet mark right in the middle. He smacked your pussy lightly; you felt yourself jolt and moan at the same time. "No surprise there", he commented and threw them off the bed all the same.
His hand splayed down your body; only for his tongue to follow the same trail, just barely dipping down to lick the inside of your thighs teasingly. You wither from above and try to wrap your legs around his head like you always do. Dominik never went a day without tasting your cunt. It was his favorite way to relieve stress; it was almost like a routine for him to come home with you and get on his knees to slide his tongue into your wet pussy. Though tonight he only glided his tongue against your clit for a split second before just barely letting his teeth graze over it. Your body reacted before your mind processed the new action. You gasped and raised up off of the bed to see what the fuck he just did and why the hell did it feel so good. "Like that mami? I thought you would, I know this pussy in and out", he sticks his tongue out playfully but he was still so low the tip of his tongue hit your pussy all the same.
You moaned his name and glared with impatience. You had never claimed to be the patient one in this relationship. Dominik took that as a sign to hurry up and pull his cock out to slip inside of you. After all this time you thought you'd be used to the stretch of his cock, but each inch sent you reeling and gripping the sheets for support. The way his cock filled you up, made you feel full it was unexplainable; really only your intangible moans could begin to explain it. "Fuck you feel so good", you whined and convulsed around his cock.
Dominik let you scratch down his cock and throw your arms over his shoulders while he just barely rocked into you. But he couldn't help but reply, "Oh yeah?" he asked but knew the answer based on how much you were pulsing around him already. "Fuck you", you grit out without meaning, though in reality, you wanted to pull his face down to slip your tongue into his smart mouth. He looks at you from the curtain of his long hair, "I can't wait" he said back. And he meant it with his entire being. Dominik loved you on top, roughing him around, and shoving your panties into his mouth.
Now Dominik was practically abusing your cunt with each harsh thrust that hit your g-spot with no effort. Each thrust made a smacking sound of his hips against your ass and then the squelch of him pulling in and out of your pussy. Dominik was now holding the headboard to better fuck you and the sight you got to see was better than any other. He was panting and licking his lips while watching you moan and work through the up-and-coming orgasm. His muscles were convulsing and his hips were ramming his cock inside of you. The quirks of Dominik being so athletic really paid off in bed.
Dominik pulled out and barely gave any time for you to whine out complaints. He grabbed you by the hips and flipped you over, he pushed your knees up and pushed your back down so you were arched in front of him; ass up and ready. Dominik slipped inside of you effortlessly this time and groaned at the sight in front of him. He grabs your hips again tightly this time and slams you back on his cock while he thrusts into you all the same. "Why would I want her when I have you taking my cock like a whore? God, I could fuck you forever Mami", his words are sloppy and dirty. You pulse around him and moan into the sheets he pushed you into over and over again.
"Dom please", you mumble from the sheets; that was the best way to tell him you were about to cum. And in this case, it was going to be the best one you've had in weeks. Dominik groaned as your pussy got tighter with each pulse and now one of his hands moved to the arch of your back to keep you in the right position. "Just a little longer princess, my good girl can do that right?", you only nodded into the sheet and Dominik felt his body constricting with each long pull. But you not speaking wasn't nearly enough for him. "My little cock slut can handle it hm?", he moved his hands down to grasp and pull at the plush of your ass. Smacking and pulling to make his cock drive even further into you. The degradation and praise mixed together always had you gushing around his cock and stilling while you cum. Already knowing Dominik would have no problems with fucking you through it.
Your ass pressed against him and his cock was as deep as it could go when you squeezed around his cock tightly. So tight he could barely pull out or stutter his cuss of praise. But of course, he managed, "That's my girl"
#dominik mysterio x reader smut#dominik mysterio smut#dominik mysterio fluff#dom dom#dominik mysterio fanfiction#dominik mysterio x you#wwe#dominik mysterio x reader#dominik mysterio#dominik my bbg
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Against all odds (part 7)
Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6
This is all I've got so far but I figured I'd let you have it and hopefully I'll have more soon :3
**
Hob works at a news agency. As someone with hundreds of years of experiencing political and societal change he has a keen eye for news-worthy happenings. Often he can predict very well which events are important, which will have historical influence or be the talk of the nation for a long time. Hob edits his colleague’s articles and reports, chooses which ones are worthy of printing and which aren’t, tries to remove or at least mitigate the xenophobia and fearmongering in what he hopes are the last days of the Cold War. People don’t need fear to grow, they need hope. He thinks he’ll stop doing this soon, though. His name - Robert Goulding at the moment - pops up in too many places and he doesn’t like being recognizable for more than a few decades. He takes care to not become chief editor and stay out of the limelight but he thinks he’ll move on soon. Maybe he’ll take a break and live off his stock profits. Find a quiet place for him and his stranger, somewhere in the countryside, with a garden…
Hob shakes himself out of his fantasy and laughs at himself. Wishful thinking will hardly be of any use. He’s been wishing and hoping for more time with his stranger for so many centuries. Now it finally seems like he might get lucky enough to have regular contact, via journal entries, and maybe even visits. That is enough. He shouldn’t be greedy.
With a sigh and a silent curse that he stopped smoking he goes to finish his work so he can get home and write an answer to his friend.
In the evening Hob pours himself a whiskey and sits down at his desk, open journal before him. He looks over to his bed. His stranger had sat here last night, watching him. Hob swallows reflexively and takes another sip of his drink, trying to not let his thoughts go down a slippery, horny slope before he starts writing.
June 15th, 1989
Dear friend,
I am glad you felt you could come and visit me and that you feel safe in my presence. I consider it an honour and I want to assure you that I do not mind in the least if you stop by whenever you feel like it. I trust you. Feel free to come here anytime, no matter if I'm awake or not, or if I’m even here. If my place can be a retreat for you from your everyday worries or workplace (as I assume you are busy doing something somewhere), I would be very happy. Leave your shoes off the sofa, that’s all I ask. ;-)
But seriously, my home is your home. I mean it. I look forward to seeing you again as well.
Reading about your ordeal was horrible. I am so sorry this happened to you and that I didn’t hear anything about it. I would have moved everything between Heaven and Earth to free you, my friend, please believe me. You say the ones responsible have been punished but I cannot stop myself from imagining visiting vengeance upon them for your sake. To imprison you someone, anyone, for such a long period of time, in the conditions that you described, is barbaric and the rage I feel at the mere thought is nearly blinding.
I am deeply sorry for your loss and for all you had to endure. I would give you anything in my power to make you feel safe, dear stranger. If you ever need my help, please call me. I don’t know if you had any means to call for help, you probably didn’t, but please - should you ever be in any trouble or danger or in need of help, I urge you to call on me! I will come and help you the best I can, I will not allow you to be trapped ever again. After all, what are friends for, if not for helping one another?
Your problems with closed spaces and strangers are completely understandable and I would never hold it against you if you never want to meet inside a building again. I hope we’ll be able to find a suitable replacement for the old haunt, at least until you feel more at ease again. These things take time, at least for humans, and although I would not dare to insinuate that you are not more robust than the average human and probably not subject to the same physical and mental limits I’d wager a guess that you will need time to heal, my friend. I sincerely ask you to take that time. You strike me as the type to jump headfirst back into work and duty after getting free and that is not recommended, no matter what or how powerful you are. You were imprisoned for 80 years and subjected to torture, you cannot expect to be the same after that. No one should expect you to be the same, to not be changed by it or in need of healing and time to recuperate.
I am only human but in my long life I have met a few other immortal beings, not all of them human but all of them with very similar needs and wants. I know you’re probably bristling right now because I dare to suggest you might be unfit for whatever it is you do but I hope you believe me when I tell you this only because I care for you - you need a break. Please, stranger, promise me you’ll take care of yourself, if you cannot let others do that for you. I would be happy to help in any way I can. Visit me at your leisure, I promise I will never turn you away, or look down on you for showing weakness. You have seen me at my lowest and I have always trusted you to still respect me after that. Just like that, I would never think any less of you for any of this.
I’ll be happy to help you learn more about humanity, get to know humans again. I am honoured that you have elevated me in your mind to something else but I am as human as they come. So if you like me, you can like other humans as well, right?
I will think of a nice place to meet and let you know as soon as I’ve decided. Remember, in the meantime this place is always open to you. Even including watching me sleep. ;-P
Stay safe,
Your friend Hob
Hob puts down the pen and skims over his lines. Yes, that’s not too forward but inviting enough to let his stranger feel safe and welcome. It’s a bit daring, calling his stranger in need of a break, but it’s the right thing to say and offer.
He nods, downs his whiskey and gets ready for bed.
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School au! It's valentine's day, and the reader has prepared a letter with a plushie that was a limited edition plush merchandise from lyneys favorite content creator magician. They wanted to cowardly confess through a letter, as they were worried of that destroying their best-friend relationship, even writing at the end of the letter "if this makes you uncomfortable or you'd wish to never speak of it again please just ignore this letter.".
Yet... When the time to give it came, they saw lyney had received quite a few gifts, but what broke the reader was when someone tried to suddenly kiss lyney. They got angry, furious even, the frustration taking each thought from their mind. They left the classroom and went outside, not wanting to look at this any further. Even if the girl was just being pushy - the sight itself hurt em. They decided it was a stupid idea to confess at all - knowing how many people liked lyney... He most likely wasn't going to pick the reader - at least that's what they thought. They sat outside near the school court, forgetting in their frustration that the place they were sitting it was see-able from their classroom. They crumbled the letter and sat there, head hanging low, as they skipped the class.
I should be over all the butterflies- Lyney x Gn!reader
Im still into you
t/w- kissing
summary- as shown above
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The sun shone brightly as you walked to school, bag in hand filled with things for Lyney. It was Valentine's Day, the day you were going to confess to your best friend. You may not have looked nervous but you felt it, your stomach was filled with butterflies and your palms were getting clammy. Maybe this is a bad idea?
As you stepped onto the school grounds you could see many people confessing their love, some being requited while others not. You hadn’t seen Lyney yet but hopefully, he didn’t have a crowd of people like others did.
Lyney was quite a popular boy, you were merely a shadow. Or that's what people called you. You followed him around like a lost puppy, wondering when he would get bored. He never did. Well, at least he said he never did. You started to worry about what would happen if this went wrong… Would he ever see you the same way? Or would he just see you as rubbish?
Inside the classroom, people were gathered around one spot. And you knew that spot as Lyney’s. Many girls, boys and other people were surrounding him trying to get his attention by giving him the most extravagant gifts. There were chocolates, and love poems and cards. All crappy valentines Day stuff. You were the only one who knew him well enough.
You didn’t bother trying to push into the crowd, you would only get tread on. You stood from afar watching him try and turn down the people politely. He was never one to make people upset or angry. Once he’d accidentally made you cry because he scared you by jumping out of a corner. The amount of times he apologised, and he still apologises today.
A girl in the sea of people leaned closer towards Lyney begging to be kissed. When he didn’t respond she kissed him herself. You didn’t stick around long after that, the tears in your eyes blocked your vision anyway. God, you knew it was stupid… Lyney would definelty pick one of the many people laid out for him. It hurt to think about. you’d loved him for so long. You scrunched up the note on the gift and threw it on the ground.
Not even 5 minutes later someone grabbed that bit of paper off the ground.
“Mon amour, what are you doing out here?” You knew that voice anywhere. “And what is this bit of paper with my name on it?”
Before you would react he opened the letter reading your love confession. You could see a tinge of red forming on his cheeks.
“You love me?” His face was almost bright red now
“I thought it was kinda obvious?”
“You kept it well hidden y/n.”
You felt him get closer, the heat of his body warming you. His hand softly grazed you cheek sending a slight shiver through your body. “May I kiss you?”
The butterflies were back and were not staying still anytime soon. Your words couldn’t quite form properly all you could do was nod. His lips softly pressed against yours, while he placed his hand on your right cheek pulling you in closer not letting you go. Lyney’s hands were soft making you feel more at comfort. The way he kissed was nothing like you saw in romance movies. He was so gentle with you, you didn’t mind that at all.
His hands moved to your waist pulling you in. The kiss felt like an eternity but was over just like that.
“Woah…” You couldn’t form the right words to tell him you loved it.
Taglist
@pandragonsoul @atsukawolfcat @keeyisbored
#genshin impact#genshin#genshin x reader#fluff#gn reader#genshin fluff#genshin angst#angst#lyney#lyney genshin#genshin impact lyney#genshin lyney#lyney x reader#lyney x gnreader#lyney oneshot#lyney fluff
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RONAN!!
Holy shit what an episode. It really breaks my heart that even in space, there’s discrimination against mutants. “He’s not even a pure Terran” like wtf man. The awful things the council and the empress’ sister were saying about Charles hurt me so bad, and then of he was still willing to stay until he sensed Gambit’s death. Chilling scene. Guess that means eps 5 and 6 happened at the same time. Funny how both the professor and the students were prepping for celebration when bs came up on both sides.
Part of me wishes he could’ve stayed and just been happy, but there’s a lot of work to be done back on earth. Hopefully it’s not the last time he and the empress see each other.. you can tell he really does care for her, but understandably he wants to get back and help his kids
Pretty quiet episode animation wise other than.. STORM GETTING HER POWERS BACK LETS GOO. I knew it was gonna happen and they picked the perfect time to do it. She looks stronger and more focused than ever, plus new outfit. Can’t wait to see her in action again
Still thinking about episode 05’s animation at the end with rogue flying and the “I can’t feel you” 😢 next episode is gonna hit like a brick, fuck mr sinister
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