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hyomaslut · 9 months

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──★ ˙🌟 ̟ !! gold star redemption program. 18+!

☆⌒(ゝ。∂).ᐟ ᴛᴇᴀᴍ ʙʟᴜᴇ ʟᴏᴄᴋ's ғᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇ ᴍᴀɴᴀɢᴇʀ

✿ ─ synopsis: you are the new manager for team blue lock and you have a great idea to make the players get along better. after all, positive reinforcement worked really well on dogs, why not men? ✿ ─ characters: isagi yoichi, bachira meguru, shidou ryusei, itoshi rin, chigiri hyoma + kunigami rensuke referenced ✿ ─ cw: smut, fem!reader, she/her pronouns used, aged-up!characters(18+), pet names, kissing, penetrative sex, oral receiving/giving, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, hair pulling, overstimulation, rough sex, deepthroating/face-fucking, non-exclusive relationships, lots of jealousy, pda, use of foul language, suggestive themes, shidou is an asshole, rin threatens murder, somewhat proofread ✿ ─ notes: okay so every is going to ignore the logistics and mental gymnastics done to put all these guys on the same team and have any of this go on, right? cool. this work was requested by @anastasiablossomlove pls enjoy!

managing team blue lock was no task for a person of average conviction. anyone with less of a spine would be easily trampled and consumed by the members, all with big personalities and even bigger egos. you took to the role with exceptional organizational skills and a positive attitude that didn’t falter, even under the cold glares of the less compliant men of the team (cough cough itoshi rin cough cough barou shouei). before the end of your first week you had drafted up detailed and individualized meal plans, unique to each of them. by the second you had worked with the coach to create special training regimes that works towards their fitness goals while providing challenge and variety. right under their noses you dug your pretty fingers into every part of team blue lock, finding every issue and soothing every conflict, turning a group of somewhat wild animals into a well functioning machine with you at its core.

and not a detail slipped your eye. you could always tell when kunigami had pushed himself too hard in the gym by the stiffness in his shoulders. honestly you doubt you would’ve been able to convince him to let you help him if he wasn’t just as sore as you predicted. but the minute your palms were pressing into his back he was groaning in relief, “you’re an angel” grumbled under his breath. he’s a bit less embarrassed the next time around, blushing while asking you to fix him like you did last time.

you quickly took responsibility for doing chigiri’s hair before every practice and game. after seeing it fall out of its style and flap wildly in his face whenever he reached top speed on the field, you decided he needed something a little more reliable to keep it out the way so his eyes could stay on the ball. though when his hair was this soft, who could blame you for taking a bit longer than necessary, brushing through the knots and gently scratching at his scalp. plus, he didn’t seem to mind all that much, always red faced and all smiles, leaning into your touch. the thank you kiss he plants on your cheek lingers long enough to leave a matching blush on your face as a token of his appreciation.

being the backbone of their system earned you respect, acknowledgement, even affection from the overly friendly members of the team (cough cough bachira meguru cough cough shidou ryusei). no one could deny the benefits of having you around, always offering all kinds of helpful advice and showed not a shred of judgment when listening to their problems. and you weren’t exactly ignorant to the fact that your constant support was causing some of your new friends to become especially attached to you. maybe to someone else it would be a bigger concern, but in your eyes, this was only another opportunity to do more for your team.

that’s why you implemented the gold star redemption program to help motivate them. it was quite simple to follow, you had a chart with all of their names along with cute, slightly wonky doodles of them, and a list of ways to earn gold stars. from goals and assists to being on good behavior, whatever way they earn their stars, team members can then cash them in for certain prizes from you. the list had looked something like this…

2 ☆ = snack or drink of your choice 4 ☆ = a home cooked meal 5 ☆ = a kiss <3 7 ☆ = a massage <33 10 ☆ = private training session <333

the objective was to give incentives towards cooperation. not to mention, it’s always good to strengthen bonds with your team members. it seems, however, that you underestimated how much of your time this new system would take up. or maybe you just overestimated how easy it would be to keep up with the greedy desires of so many egoists at once.

ever since your arrival, anyone with eyes could see that isagi yoichi carried a torch for you. you let him talk your ear off for hours about tactics and players, never tired of his company or too busy for his rambles. it gets his heart thumping obnoxiously loud in his chest. so yoichi makes it his objective to dote on you as much as possible to try to make up for all the time you spend fussing over everybody else. always staying after practice to help you or walking you home. so when you start handing out stars for that kind of stuff, isagi is already making a steady income. he considers himself a gentleman, so at first he spends his stars on meals. and he’s more than happy to eat your cooking, stirring up all kinds of wifey fantasies in his head and enjoying his lunches with you. but at night, when he’s lying in bed, the big ticket item at the bottom of the prize board haunts him. and when he can’t take it anymore, he slips into your tiny little office that you share with the coach, a self-satisfied smile on his face when he lets you know that he just finished the stat sheets you asked him to fill out, earning him his tenth gold star. enough for one private training session.

in all the times you thought about sex with isagi, you’re not sure you ever pictured it to be like this. bent over your own desk, tennis skirt bunched up around your waist, your star player too eager to sink into your pussy to even push down your underwear. they stayed tugged to the side, thoroughly soaked from the way his hips meet yours in sloppy desperate thrusts. “i knew i needed to fuck you when i saw this skirt,” he confesses, eyes fixed to the point where you connect, mesmerized by the way his cock disappears inside you, “you’ve been tempting me all day, so be a good girl and take my cock, okay?” before you can respond he hooks a finger into the elastic of your panties to let it snap back against your skin, drawing a small yelp from you. he changs the angle to fuck you harder, deeper. you wonder if this could be the same sweet yoichi that carries your things and bashfully tells you your outfit looks good.

apparently that yoichi doesn’t exist once he’s balls deep inside you, all that’s left is the side of him you’ve only caught glimpses of when he’s dominating his opponents on the field. and if you thought that it was a chance encounter, you’re sorely mistaken as week after week isagi makes sure he earns his ten stars and you get to know just how mean he can be. his grip is always tight around your hair, whether it’s pulling and steering you into the position he wants or guiding your head down to take more of his dick. god forbid he asks you nicely for something like he always does when you’re not ‘training’. one time you even had the gall to suggest the idea to him and lived to regret it as now if you want anything from him, isagi is only accepting the most convincing of your begs. “c'mon princess, mind your manners, if you wanna cum then you’re gonna have to ask really nicely.” and no teary eyed puppy dog look will get you what you want, even when he makes getting your words out so difficult. truthfully, he never intends to be so hard on you, but having you crying and begging for his cock is the only way to soothe the devil on his shoulder that tries to tell him to take you for himself. in the aftermath, you start to recognize your yoichi again, sheepish in his apologies for how rough he was with you, kissing away the tears that run down your face. he’s lucky you’re too fucked out to charge him for them.

there’s not a world where you offer bachira meguru sexual favors in exchange for playing soccer and he says no. he was already gonna do that anyway, and now not only does he get to make even more of a game out of it, but his reward for winning is the cute little manager he’s had his eyes on for far too long? consider him sold. bachira knows it would be most fun for him to save up and have sex with you as soon as possible, but all of a sudden he has five and he’s itching for a kiss. one he decides to give you right before practice starts… in front of the whole team. but can you blame him? he’s already been waiting forever to feel those pretty glossed lips on his, you couldn’t really expect him to make it through the next few hours when he’s so close to getting what he wants. and you could maybe understand that, but was it really necessary to go for a full open-mouthed wet almost make out that left you panting when everyone’s eyes were already on you? you suspect not, but bachira doubles down, telling you it was of upmost importance that he got it in, else he wouldn’t be able to focus. he neglects to tell you that he overheard reo in the locker room talking about what he was gonna do now that he had five stars. shidou already made it very clear that he would be first to ten, so bachira had to be crafty in order to secure at least one first from you.

meguru was certainly one of the more needy players, right under nagi that required some form of encouragement every step of the way to get anything done. bachira usually does what you tell him to, but not without whining about deserving a prize for being good. quite frankly, you dread having to ask anything of him, because he is determined to be fully compensated for even the smallest of requests. even a task as easy as grabbing something on a high shelf was met with a cheeky smirk and a request for a kiss. and don’t think he’ll budge either, holding the item hostage if he thinks he can squeeze two out of you. it didn’t make it any easier that bachira didn’t possess a shy bone in his whole body, openly showering you in affection when the others were around, holding your hand and nuzzling his face into your collar. it was enough to make even a professional like you blush. he acted as if he was oblivious to the jealous stares of his friends, but the smug cat-like smirk he sends them and the way he only holds you tighter when you try to shyly brush him off gives him away. it may come as a surprise considering his reputation for being a bit delusional, but bachira tries to root himself in reality for once. he frequently reminds himself of the nature of your relationship and tries his best not let his imagination run wild with anything that would be beyond the boundaries you’ve clearly set. things like picturing himself taking you on dates, coming home to you at night, introducing you to his mom. they were all too dangerous to let his mind settle on them for too long.

and what better distraction than burying his face between your thighs. it’s hard to think of much when he hasn’t bothered to stop lapping at your cunt long enough to take a breath in a couple minutes. suffocating was the least of his concerns when the clench around his fingers lets him know your orgasm is just around the corner. meguru swears that your pathetic little whimpers and the slick dripping down his chin are like a straight hit of dopamine to his brain and he’s at real risk of addiction at this point. lidded amber eyes travel up to watch your expression twist into one of pleasure as you gasp out his name. now that catches his interest. when your vision clears and your brain is functioning again after that intense high, you search for his comfort as if you had done any of the hard work. but all you’re met with is that signature wild look that he gets when he brushing past the enemy team’s defense straight towards his goal. it’s your only warning that he’s far from tired and even farther from sated. “if i can keep going, so can you baby. i know you have more for me. jus’ need t’see you make that face one more time.” you have no room to protest, his tongue already finding your clit and working towards bringing you to the edge once again. by your fourth time cumming, you’re sobbing for a break and debating whether you should charge him four times over or give him a star for each one.

someone who was on board with your system from the second that you explained how it worked, was shidou ryusei. what better way to celebrate another one of his blood pumping, heart stopping performances than racing to the locker room to blow a load in his favorite girl while his teammates debrief with the coach? to him it was simple, you fuck him, you feed him, you take care of him, you spend time with him. shidou is, by all of his definitions, dating you. while some might be turned off by the idea of dating someone who isn’t offering exclusivity, he didn’t see it as much of an obstacle. not when he spent star stickers like a gambler on a slot machine, having you multiple times a week if the economy allowed it. and if he’s short a few, no worries, ryusei is quite the negotiator. it starts one week when he’s only missing a star or two, promising he’ll pay back the difference, you know he’s a good customer. it’s probably not a good idea to give in to him though, as the next time he wants a private training session, he’ll insist they’re only nine stars for him. he has made all kinds of fake coupons from 50% Off! to Buy One Get One Free! to even a homemade punch card in his own terrible handwriting. shidou was the first one to ever get a star taken away when he tried to give you an arby’s gift card in exchange for a blowjob. he didn’t try that tactic again.

the worst is when he tries to haggle in the middle of sex. your legs are thrown over his shoulders and his tip is kissing your cervix when he chooses to whine about not being able to kiss you because he has no stars left. he worked too hard to get good star credit, he can’t go into star debt!! “ and with his lips just hovering over yours, his hot breath fanning across your face, how could you say no? in a moment of weakness, you have unfortunately given an inch to shidou, infamous mile taker, and now it’s hard to get him to pay for any of his kisses, especially while he’s fucking you. you thank god that at the very least no one knows he’s been getting them for free… if only shidou would allow your life to be that easy. even worse than giving him an inch, you expected shidou to keep a secret. and you thought his big mouth was something you liked about him. until he’s using it to brag to everyone that he’s your favorite, practically your boyfriend, all because you let him get away with a smooch here and there. let’s just say you had to give out a lot of free kisses to smooth over the problem his bragging habits created.

honestly ryusei was starting to cause a lot of confusion outside of the team with his antics. what with his always hanging off your arm, giving you as much affection as you’d tolerate, calling you sweet nicknames. the people in your life were actually starting to believe you two were dating. not that shidou does anything to discourage such rumors, only grinning and agreeing every time someone mistakes you as a couple. hell, he was starting to get you confused, saying things during your training sessions that certainly didn’t fit the transactional nature of the act. “holy shit you’re so tight- love this pussy, l-love you so much. say my name. c’mon baby, say you love me and i’ll make you feel so fucking good.” and only because ryusei always makes good on his promises do you allow yourself another moment of weakness.

itoshi rin didn’t have much interest or faith in you upon first introduction. he sized you up as some nobody doing this whole manager thing as a fun extracurricular, so as long as you stayed out of his way he didn’t care what you did. with his luck, he shouldn’t be surprised that you were immediately in his way, extremely often, rambling to him about ideas and strategies that he had no intention on listening to. although even he could admit, he understood why the others were so easily charmed by you. he was wrong about how seriously you took your job. not that it changed anything. at least that’s what rin tells himself, but in reality your relentless efforts and endless dedication to supporting all of them was something that spoke to him, made him a bit soft for you. it didn’t help that you were his type in every sense of the word, your attractiveness doing nothing but make feigning indifference a lot harder for rin. your seemingly endless patience didn’t help either. you always responded in kind to all of rin’s harsh words and cold stares, never let his sour attitude deter your subtle acts of service like getting grass stains out of his uniform and making sure he stays unbothered during his yoga. against his will, he was slowly warming up to you, but you were still caught off guard when rin started cashing in his stars, even if it was just a meal. he had lots of them sitting idle on the chart waiting to be used, so you supposed it was only natural for him to get some free food out of it. but you were even more taken aback when a couple days later he requested a massage from you with insistence that he only asks because he’s been extremely tense as of late. which wasn’t entirely untrue. rin had been very tense. just not from anything soccer related like he’d like you to believe. he was tense from the stress of his budding feelings for you combined with the dread of knowing he probably will never have you all to himself. at least not with this stupid reward system in place.

he despises it. he absolutely hates going about his day knowing there are other guys, his shithead teammates, that are getting your time, attention, and affection for the price of a couple of stupid fucking stickers. he misses the days when shidou’s incessant bragging about how many times he was able to make you cum or bachira’s unnecessary details of what your pussy tastes like didn’t bother him. now his blood boils to hear them talk about you like that. that kind of anger makes it clear to him that being your friend was simply not an option anymore. which is how he settled on getting a massage from you. he would satisfy this overwhelming craving he has for you and go back to normal and be able to focus solely on becoming best in the world again without thoughts of you plaguing his mind. that was his hope going into it, but feeling your warm touch on his bare back, melting away years of untreated knots and neglected aches in his body, he could almost blush at the intimacy he feels. especially when that foreign kindness he loves so much is on display as you reassure him that there’s nothing to be embarrassed about and that you’re proud he finally put his pride aside long enough to let you help him. you’ve got him, hook, line, and sinker now. no use in struggling so hard, he supposes, as some part of him knows he’s doomed to fall sooner or later. perhaps it’s time to surrender. he fought a good fight, but his greed for you was candidly too tough of an opponent.

and to rin, surrender looked like asking you when’s the soonest he could book a private training session. you don’t think you could look any more shocked. rin had a quick turn around from someone you doubted even liked you, to someone reserving as much of your time as his stars could buy. the more often he was with you, the less time you spent giving those lukewarm brats the treatment he wants reserved for him. and he wishes he gave in a lot sooner when he feels the wet heat of your mouth around his cock for the first time. how fast he would’ve folded if he knew how pretty you would look on your knees for him. rin tried to be gentle and let you set the pace, but between hissing out curses and barely biting back moans, that same greed to get more from you has his hand twisting itself in your hair and pushing down on the back of your head. he couldn’t help it. and it was so worth it to watch you choke and sputter around his length but never pull away. he knew you weren’t a quitter. “shit, feels good… don’t stop,” he all but gasps, hips instinctively jumping to reach further down your throat, grip tightening when you try to come up for air. after a long moment of breathing through your nose you relax enough to let him ease himself the rest of the way in. rin sighs in relief when your nose finally presses against his pelvis. the way you look up at him starry-eyed and full of adoration made his chest feel heavy with desire to be the only one you ever look at. it drives him crazy that any guy on the team can see you like this, and that heartache has rin fucking your face to forget it. “fuckkk. don’t look away, eyes on me, g’nna cum in that pretty mouth.”

you couldn’t deny that your new attempt at encouraging the team had its kinks. while overall the amount of arguments that broke out between players lessened to keep on good star-earning behavior, you could tell that it came with its own set of tension creating problems. you also couldn’t deny that being pulled in every direction by men vying for your attention was both very time consuming and extremely gratifying, but you think you manage it well. save for when they were already pumped up with adrenaline from a game, that is when real issues arise. especially when a player from the enemy team thinks it’s a good idea to try and hit on the cute little lady holding the clipboard. fatal mistake.

it starts with your favorite pot stirrer, bachira, calling out from his position, making everyone else on the team aware of the situation. “no shot dude, she don’t want you! focus on losing!” you’re confident you can diffuse whatever is about to go down before you notice rin leaving the ball alone in centerfield to beeline straight towards you. threats are flying from his lips on approach, quick to get in the guy’s face, planting his hands on his shoulders to shove him back. “what the fuck do you think you’re doing? i’ll kill you if you don’t get the fuck away from her.” you think maybe you have a shot of getting rin under control if you just- your eyes widen in horror as a flash moves in from your peripheral. there are no words, just shidou drop kicking this poor stranger at top speed. you cringe as you watch shidou knocks this guy off his feet, cleats first, taking rin down with him. what a way to earn a red card.

this was a fun project and request tysm!!! i just went about it in the interpretation i found most interesting, i really hope it was to your liking!!!

#divider credit to @cafekitsune #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #bllk smut #blue lock #bllk #isagi yoichi x reader #rin itoshi x reader #rin itoshi smut #isagi yoichi smut #bachira x reader #bachira meguru x reader #shidou ryusei x reader #shidou ryuusei smut #shidou smut #chigiri x reader #kunigami x reader #miwa sins

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rain-and-a-nice-nap · 2 years

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Sometime you just gotta tough it through the mounds of she/her pronouns in fanfics

#why don’t people tag the gender #x reader #y/n #x reader fanfiction #transgender #le sigh #the mental gymnastics that I pull is kinda funny though #it’s funny to me

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krashoutluv · 4 months

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Arkham Knight Relationship HCS !! <3

( light nsfw, mostly SFW tho!! )

literally my wife ( i made this pic idc abt creds i just wanna talk abt it)

SFW !! <3

dying on this hill when i say basically any red hood would be soo yummy with a civilian or just someone who is extremely balanced.

im a red hood needs more fucking normalcy in his life TRUTHER.

relationship starts off slow, romantic and platonic, you need to be patient with him long enough for him to get over his mental dilemmas to feel ANY-TYPE of way towards you.

more then like 6 months lets be real yall

his way of bonding is quality time. ill die on this hill, especially at the start of the relationship. Nothing huge maybe just spending a couple extra minutes around you before leaving.

next is probably gift giving, esp with early relations, probably just gonna order you food or put fifty bucks on your countertop. you dont even notice until you realize you find a fifty around the last place he was standing. expect deliveries from R.H whenever he feels bad for something.

doesn't like being around for too long, feels like he's messing up something. ruining your day by keeping you up late (he was there for fifteen minutes), ruining your mood, (there was an awkward silence for like 30 seconds.)

not a overly conscious thought process though, he feels physically he isn’t supposed to be there. for whatever subconscious thing he picked up on, a awkward silence, or hes been there 15 minutes too long or something

well sometimes he'll mentally beat himself up.

he spirals a lot, needs someone to pull him out of that.

i think when he needs to be grounded, its not just comfort its making him feel alive in the present moment. he's never gonna truly forget about his traumas but maybe for just an hour or two; running around an arcade, walking around the city. just making him feel normal, yeah you BAGGED his ass quick.

he needs someone patient, really patient, someone whos very attentive and empathetic. (but not a complete push- over def needs someone to set him in line still)

i think if you move to quickly, he'll get super snappy and ghosting you,, ong put ur hands on him too early and he's left hooking you.

yeah you're waking up and the first thing your hearing is "Its been 12 years..."

second thing you hear is "you've been in a coma for.. 12 years."

third thing you're hearing is, " we think a bus hit you...”

obviously not touchy, even when he is settling down. hes just not sure how to .. or where to .. or why he wants too.

please his mental gymnastics get so crazy, just sit down with him and put on some silly ass movie so he stops

when he’s settled he cant pry himself off you though.

a lot of his expressions can definitely be told by his body language, naturally hes tense but theres certain habits he has when he's maybe thinking too much, or fustrated/irritated.

but he does all of the same for you, comfort, love, as much as he can he tries

Very attentive, has a mental list of 'shit you do when somethings wrong' or 'shit you like.'

doesn't consciously make any of these mental list, he just knows.

"didnt they say they liked this?" He pauses "shit ill just leave it at their window."

so he's like canonically smart as shit.

you have too much work from your boss or professor? hand it over its done in less then two hours.

literally buys you groceries and pays your bills (fucking lover boy.)

arkham knight finally figuring out how to ask for a hug (hes been dead silent for 5 minutes) (link) <— insta reel

HES A CHEM/HISTORY NERD FOR SURE

NSFW !! <3

probably- A FUCKING VIRGIN !! HES A NERD !! GETS AWKARD AS SHIT. WITH RAGING COMMITMENT AND TRUST ISSUES !! (will still die4you tho)

AGAIN, not in a "my soft squishe potato always been scared of sex" way but in a ‘oh my god hes so unsocialized’ way.

yall ever see a big ass dog just..standing.. literally him (hes dissociating)

genuinely dont believe that when he was arkham/training to be, he was sexually or romantically involved with anyone. the last thing that was on his mind was actually pursuing a sexual or romantic relationship.

along with his trauma, he just wasn’t comfortable with any of that.

ghosted so many people..

couldn’t flirt for more then five minutes, just stopped feeling it or got uncomfortable .

I AM ANTI ARKHAM KNIGHT BEING A SEX GOD

not that he’s horribly awkward, but he’s noticeably a bit more quiet for first times.

ofc this man has watched porn n’ shit but hes smart enough to know thats not what its really like.

he’ll still figure it, what makes you tic, what you love, what makes you most comfortable.

kinda shitty at dirty talk, just makes him buffer.

he gets better at it tho, too damn good

gets so snarky and confident about it too uuhgrr

late relationships hes smirking and chatting your ears off cause you know hes gettin you turnt.

he has a love-hate relationship with his scars. 95% they remind him of his past, but 5% hes alright with them because they’ve shown what hes been through.

deep, deep, deep, deep, deep down, he knows hes fine as fuck. TRUST YALL.

again, super observant and attentive. really pays attention to what you enjoy.

I genuinely don’t believe hes into super hardcore/painful kinks or anything.

Sex for him is definitely a way of showing his trust and intimacy with someone!! Let him show you how much he loves you and how much he wants to make you feel good! Do the same to him !!

mmm tell him how good hes doing and hes a absolute mess!!

praise him! PRAISE HIM *im yelling from the hospital bed im strapped down on*

wouldn’t let you ride for awhile, but once he’s comfortable with it ,, he’s actually obsessed.

cant see him bottoming , just wouldn’t be comfortable with it

my brain is getting messy so im stopping here! feedback and comments would be cool if you wanna drop some!

#jason todd #jason peter todd #jason todd x reader #arkham knight x reader #arkham knight #arkham knight smut #jason todd smut #jason todd headcanon #arkham knight headcanon #jason todd hc #red hood x reader #red hood smut

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k3n-dyll · 6 days

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||Men, minors, and ageless DNI

CW: 18+, wlw, fem!reader, pure smut, oral (r!recieving), fingering (r!recieving), cheating, arranged marriage mentioned, southern accent, Abby is implied to be a criminal for like a second, getting caught Word Count: 1,186 || Masterlist || Divider creds || Palestine Links

Notes ☆ Some 1800s cowgirl Abby smut to hold y'all over while I get the similarly set series started (I'm being nitpicky about my writing). Also, didn't mean for this to be long lol

➳ If you allow yourself to linger on the thought for a moment - to do a bit of mental gymnastics for the sake of getting this nagging feeling of guilt and shame to subside - this really isn't your fault.

Truly. It isn't. It's theirs.

You weren't the one that wanted to marry, and you sure as hell wouldn't have chosen this suitor of all of them. That was your pious father. Good intentions aside, he was the one that confined you to this life.

And your sorry excuse for a husband, well, he took the other half of the blame. He's never home, and when he is the man always seems to have more important things to do. Not that you really want his attention anyway, but still, it'd be nice to at least speak to the person you're forced to live with. Aside from when he wants to be inside of you, of course.

If not for them you wouldn't even be here.

If only your father hadn't mettled with your marriage status - let you become some sort of spinster instead. If your scraggly bearded husband had simply kept his shady business dealings in the back of a bar instead of inviting them to his home - her large, calloused hands wouldn't be caught so tightly around your hips. You wouldn't be sitting in the head chair of the office you weren't technically allowed to be in, but the one you had renovated, all the same, eyeing the perpetually unfinished paperwork on his desk in a sad attempt to keep yourself grounded.

"You taste so fuckin' good, y'know that?"

Abby's voice and the warm, wet feeling of her tongue dragging along your slit bring you out of your own head, hips bucking up slightly at the contact you've been all but whining for, while she just nipped and kissed at your inner thighs. You look down at the blonde positioned snugly between your legs with a furrowed brow, trying your best to seem disapproving though the moans you let out tell a different story.

Who does she think she is? Popping up at your front door in the middle of the day, knowing damn well your husband wasn't home from work. This had only happened a few times before and even so, you knew why she'd come over the moment you saw the smirk that tugged at the corner of her lips when you confirmed that the man of the house was out for the day.

She wanted to fuck you in his office this time. Defile the sacred workplace of the man she calls a "friend" simply to make you uncomfortable.

Her piercing blues gaze right back into your eyes, and while half her face is hidden underneath the fabric of your skirts, you can tell that smug smile is back by the way her eyes crinkle right before they close.

It's the last you see of her freckled face before your head is tossed back in pleasure, sinful moans flooding from your parted lips as she laps at your cunt. No amount of guilt or shame would ever make you feel low enough to tell her to stop - not when her tongue makes you squirm and twitch in ways your betrothed could only ever dream of doing.

Abby never fails to make herself seem like a woman starved, messily licking and sucking at your pulsing, puffy clit, slurping you up as if you were her first and last ever meal on this Earth.

And she'd be damned if she let you breathe for even a second.

She wants to hear you gasping, gulping for air before she allows herself to pull away and she does more even then. Pushing through a sore jaw and aching fingers without complaint for as long as you could handle it.

"A-Abby... can't take much more" You whine, your thighs squeezing onto either side of her flushed face as you gently palm at the top of her head.

A high-pitched whine escapes your throat at the curl of the two thick fingers pumping in and out of your pussy, a low, amused growl coming from Abby at the sound.

"Aw, c'mon baby. Y'got another one in there for me, don't you? You and I both know you won't get to feel this good for a long while once I'm gone" she speaks in that soft, honey-like tone that makes you weak in the knees. The gentle southern drawl laced within her every syllable sending shivers through your body at the sound alone. Looking down at her is a mistake you never fail to make in this circumstance. She knows what a simple look from her can do to you and she takes advantage of it without remorse, chuckling as she watches you nod in response.

"Atta girl" She lands a quick smack on your thigh before diving back into you, a concoction of spit and slick spilling down her chin and wetting the inner fabrics of your skirt, the only sound to accompany the smacking and sucking against your pussy being your whorish cries.

Your breathing becomes quicker and more shallow when you're close. Eyes glazing over as your jaw slacks, brows knitted together in desperation for another orgasm. Your tells are so predictable, yet so incredibly delicious to Abby. This is a state only she gets to see you in. Not that you've ever confirmed it aloud for her but it's clear to her that the pompous ass you're married to can't even make you cum.

"Say it, darlin'. C'mon, you know what I wanna hear" Abby growls, popping up from underneath your skirt, detaching her lips from around your clit, and replacing them with her thumb just to speak. Just to taunt you. You do know what she wants to hear, and part of you wants to roll your eyes at the thought. Maybe you would have if your head wasn't so blank. If you weren't so aware that she'd stop pumping her fingers inside of you completely if you didn't give her the satisfaction, maybe you would be so bold as to give her attitude.

"Only you - fuck! Only you can make me feel like this"

Abby chuckles

"Oh, I know, sweet thing. Now cum for me"

Your orgasm is blinding and loud. So much so that you don't even hear the front door open from downstairs. Nor do you hear the footsteps that follow, too occupied with rutting yourself onto her fingers, gushing with each snap of your hips. Abby is just as oblivious, lifting up from her place between your thighs to crash her lips onto yours, too focused on wanting you to taste yourself on her tongue to even notice the jingling office door doorknob.

It's only when you both hear the old door begin slowly creaking open that your attention is snatched from one another, expressions shifting from ones of lust and satisfaction to pure horror as you both make eye contact with the twisted-up, angry face of the man you had just slandered aloud. Your husband. Back home early from work

Shit.

Thanks for reading ☆ Reblogs appreciated

Taglist: @half-of-a-gay, @porcelainmystery

#lesbian #wlw #tlou2 #abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson tlou2 #☆kennie's works #abby anderson tlou #abby anderson smut #abby anderson x fem!reader #abby tlou #abby the last of us #tlou smut #tlou fanfiction #abby x you #abby x reader #idk if i like this or not

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teabutmakeitazure · 12 days

Text

Dissimulation - Continued Again

>Yan! Mafia! Childe x Fem! Student! Reader (Modern au)

>Word Count: 9.2k

>a/n: word vomit. i love him sm and i love having him do mental gymnastics just to get the girl (to get laid) also I wrote this in numerous pieces and by the writing changes you can tell lol. copium during finals. can't believe it's almost been a whole year since this fic was first published. also, I've had the same injury described later on. it bled a lot i thought i was gonna die.

Warnings: firearms, hidden blood kink, licking (I will not elaborate) childe doesn't like pillows, read at your own discretion

Part 1 | Continuation | reason why Childe #1 husband

Childe is waiting in the car.

That’s the thought that keeps repeating in your head. Honestly, it’s your fault. You insisted he not come with you inside, even going as far as getting mad at him when he initially refused. It’s only fair that you suffer the consequences of your actions.

You can still feel the muzzle of the revolver despite the layer of cloth separating it from your spine. How do you know it’s a revolver? Well, the bastard spun it before pressing it to your lower back. You’ve played enough video games to know what that sound belongs to.

“Stop walking so slow. Move it.”

You internally scoff at his words. If you move any faster, it’ll just be more suspicious. Well, good for you. If it’s suspicious then there’s a higher chance someone might intervene.

“To the right, right there.”

You do as he says. It’s not very tempting to disobey when there’s a loaded gun on your back. The man leads you down a small alleyway away from the hustle of the outdoor market. It’s dark, and there’s a pipe leaking somewhere. This is when dread really settles in, but you put on a brave face despite your trembling lip.

You hear the man click his tongue before ordering you to stop walking. The muzzle is still pressed to your spine, and he pulls out his phone with his free hand to call someone. “I got the girl here, so now you do your part.” Someone speaks on the other side, angering him. “You’re being delusional! This is the perfect chance,” he whisper-yells. “I got the girl here, so if things go bad, I shoot. We’ll at least do some damage.”

Shoot…? What the fuck did you get yourself into?

“The next time you call me back, it better be because the bastard’s dead or he’s given up.” With that, he angrily hangs up and shoves the phone in his pocket. You’re left facing the dead end of the alleyway, your captor behind you with his back to the only exit and entrance. “So,” he starts, “where did you first meet him?”

You decide to test the waters. From what you gathered so far, you are valuable until the other guy fails in what he’s supposed to do (which you have no clue of). “Me?” You feign innocence. “Meet who?”

He presses the muzzle even harder into you, making you stumble a step forward. “Don’t play dumb with me. Even if I kill you right now, it won’t affect anything. So tell me, where did you first meet him?”

You gulp nervously, heart beating in your throat. “T-the convenience store. It was a random occurrence.”

“And you knew who he was?”

“Yes,” you breathe.

“Hah. Stupid girl. Do you not know you’re the one usually targeted when he makes enemies? That you’re the face that comes up when he pisses someone off?”

Gaze dropping to the ground, you can’t help but think of all the kind things he’s done for you so far as you answer. “I had no choice.”

He clicks his tongue. “What, so he forced you to be his girlfriend?”

“I’m not his girlfriend…”

“So you’re just a pretty lady he keeps around?” Amusement is evident in his tone. He’s messing with you before he kills you. “Considering how expensive it was to find out about you, you’re damn special. If there’s one thing I know about Tartaglia, it’s that he’s not the type to keep a girl around for nothing or just her body. And that’s precisely why you’re in this situation.”

If you’re going to die anyway, you might as well say it. Ah, sorry mama. Couldn’t help it. “You think I’m pretty?”

Surprisingly, he takes it well. “I won’t deny you have a pretty face. I can see why he’d go to lengths to keep you a secret, but nothing can be hidden forever. Don’t worry. I won’t hurt your face when I kill you.”

Great. Now there’s stinging behind your eyes. This really is it. Maybe you should’ve told your parents you love them last night. Shit, is this really the end? So much for wanting to buy a birthday present from the market. Now you won’t live to see your next birthday.

The man groans out of annoyance, hand diving into his pocket to fish out his phone. “How long is he going to take…” You can hear him aggressively tapping at the device, and you wait for him to start whisper-yelling on the phone again but all that comes is the muzzle being removed from your back as something loudly whizzes through the air, and he lets out a silent cry of pain.

Something behind you falls to the ground with a thud, and judging how his voice seems to come from elsewhere, he’s the one who fell. “No, don’t come closer. I’ll shoot! I swear I will!”

You stay still, unknowing of what’s going on. Panic overtakes your senses, and your hands start trembling as you start feeling sick. Your body is going into fight or flight, and you really want it to choose flight. As you bring your trembling hands up into your view, a familiar voice calls out from behind.

“[Name], darling. Stay as you are. Don’t turn around.”

You freeze at Childe's words, immediately pressing your palms to your ears to block out some sound only to end up making it slightly muffled. The man is spewing profanities at him, trying to get on his nerves. “You scared of your toy dying? Is that why you’re here? Or maybe you were scared we’d take your little toy away from you? Do all the things to her you do but worse?”

Footsteps lightly grow closer, likely stopping by the man writhing on the ground, clutching his leg. Something clatters to the side, presumably the revolver he may have been pointing at Childe. When Childe speaks, his voice is laced with venom. “The girl is mine.” The man grunts, and Childe continues. “You have no idea how badly you’ve set me off. You better start praying to whatever you believe in.”

You cringe when you hear Childe kick him, heart beating even faster than before. Nausea tugs at you, making your eyes lose focus as you resist the urge to throw up or fall to your knees. Hands are still pressed to your ears when a body comes to stand behind you, yet it’s when arms wrap around you that you horribly flinch and move to elbow whoever it is, hyperventilating as you struggle to be freed.

However, Childe’s voice whispers in your ear, instantly making you relax. “It’s me.”

You are way too panicked to say anything useful. “Yes. Alright. It’s you. Not anyone else. Okay. Okay.”

One of his hands moves to cover your eyes, and he instructs you to keep them closed as he leads you out. The other hand is on your shoulder, and when you are away from the alley, he uncovers your eyes. Childe leads you to the market, stopping when you both enter its busy environment. He pulls out his phone, presses it to his ear without even dialling or accepting any call and hastily spews out the location of where you were earlier, firmly telling whoever it is on the other side to ‘deal with it’.

Nausea still stirs inside you, making you sick. You can feel the ghost of the muzzle pressing against you, and although you weren’t so horrified by it when it was actually happening, you are now.

Once again, Childe’s attention is back on you. His eyes focus on you solely, forgetting the busy environment around him and forgetting the issue he was addressing on the phone. He looks… concerned. Like a mother hovering over her child, he grabs your face with both hands, turning it side to side and carefully eyeing your features. He then pulls you into a hug, but you are too busy hearing your heartbeat in your ears to reciprocate and simply hide your face in his jacket instead.

“I’m so relieved,” he whispers. “Did he say anything to you? Hurt you? Touch you?”

After a shaky inhale, you focus your gaze on a random light source, willing away the sickness in your stomach. “No. Just a gun to my back. That’s it.”

“I am so sorry.”

Unfortunately, the nausea does not relent. “It’s fine.”

He holds you tighter. “It’s not fine. You were in danger.”

Though his warmth is comforting, you cannot move to hold him back. You can taste bile in your mouth, and you start profusely swallowing, yet Childe continues voicing his regrets. “I should have come with you. I shouldn’t have listened to you-”

Your voice shakes when you interject, the fear of what else might go wrong in public. “Quiet, please. I’ll throw up.” Your request is met with him gently rubbing your back, ignoring any glances from onlookers. When he feels that you are somewhat calm, you are led back to the car, the air conditioning turned on and your seat reclined as you cover your eyes with your forearm.

You don’t know why you feel sick and you don’t know why you keep thinking of a bleeding wound, infected and deep enough to show muscle and sinew. Worst of all, you don’t know what you should do now. Should you just ask to go home? Should you go back in? Get what you came here for?

Maybe you’ll come back later, with Childe. There’s still some time in your friend’s birthday and you can get her something later or make something instead. Yeah. That sounds right.

“Feeling any better?”

Your companion’s question makes you grumble. There are so many things that go wrong these days. Your relationship with him seems to loom over you like a raincloud wherever you go. Always accompanying you like a blight on your existence. It also does not help that information about you had initially come to light because he bought the house you both currently live in a week before you made that deal with him.

You still remember that conversation in great detail. When you had finally got to the airport, what waited for you when you came back haunted you throughout the journey. This arrangement isn’t something you were looking forward to. Remaining a student on a tight budget who eats instant ramen half the time for dinner would have been more preferable.

“Is there any way I can help? Do you need anything?” Childe voices more questions, but this time you don’t feel annoyed at him. If anything, you should be thankful. Sure, that occurred because of him, but he did save you.

Hand reaching to set the seat upright, you mentally go over the words you want to say. Now facing him, Childe gives you a curious look before you speak, the edges of your lips already stuck together. “I’m sorry.” He looks taken aback, but you continue. “I’ll… I’ll listen to you next time. And thank you for saving me. I had already said my prayers and apologised to my parents in my head, so thank you for letting that go to waste. I would rather it not be useful.”

Childe blinks. With a chuckle, he smiles, giving you that typical lovestruck expression he has when you do something he finds endearing. “And I personally wouldn’t know how to break it to your parents. Not after your mom asked me to look out for you.” The reminder leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, yet Childe still has something to say. “Of course. You don’t ever need to thank me. As long as you’re mine, alive and healthy, I don’t need anything else.”

The confession makes your eyes widen, and when you open your mouth to question his words, he cuts you off. “Do you want to get what you came here for or do you want to go home?”

“Home,” you reply immediately.

He nods, a hand reaching over to grab your seat belt. The action makes your heart skip a beat - “out of surprise,” you tell yourself - yet Childe does not mind. He fastens his own seat belt after yours and promptly moves to reverse the car out of the parking lot.

It is halfway through the way that you voice your thoughts, and Childe seems to hesitate.

“We have snacks at home,” he says.

Him and his healthy habits be damned. “You mean fruits. I don’t want fruits.”

“They’re healthy. You need nourishment.”

“What am I? A plant?”

Childe holds in a laugh with an awkward cough, a smile still there. “No, but you are a very dear person. I’ll cut some apples into bunny shapes, and we can eat the oranges I got yesterday. I’ll peel them for you, like always.”

Unfortunately for him, you do not yield, even going as far as to use his name since it usually makes him more submissive. “Ajax, I almost died tonight. I would like to be able to binge eat a bag of chips as I ease my worries.”

He negotiates again, albeit weakly. “Darling, you have a habit of stress eating. I know you can’t help it, but I just want to make sure you’re at least eating things that are good for you.”

“A bag of chips just this once wouldn’t hurt.”

You can see the gears turning in his head, and with a sigh, he concedes. “Fine. But only because you want to and have been eating well without complaints these past few weeks.”

The words seem like a parent pointing out a child on their diet, gentle yet still delivering the message. Despite everything, you would never admit that ever since he started butting into what you eat, your skin doesn’t break out as much and you’re almost always hydrated. He doesn’t need to hear the positive effects his presence has on your life from your own mouth. And he sure as hell doesn’t need to know that his hydration checks throughout the day are the reason why you drink water.

Yesterday, Chil- Ajax asked you something you could not say no to.

You keep justifying your acceptance with it being a sort of payback for him saving your life the other day even though you know you’re scared of saying no to him. Or maybe you just wanted to repay his kindness. It’s not like you asked for his kindness, but he is giving it to you. Goodness, the way he looks at you sometimes when you talk is just… if you didn’t know any better, you’d describe it as creepy.

But it isn’t. It isn’t creepy because the amount of genuine love in his eyes is just ridiculous. How can someone look at a person with so much love knowing they don’t reciprocate to that intensity? How can they be okay with that? You know Ajax is absolutely, positively in love with you. There’s no doubt about it.

You know so much about his family, and he’s always finding an excuse to talk to you. He asks you to talk to him because he likes your voice, and he sometimes stays in the room while you talk to your parents because he wants to see you be carefree in conversation.

He always gets you what you want without you knowing. Heck, he even gave you a credit card linked to his account! You don’t use it, but he gave it to you.

Back to the topic. You’re going out for dinner with him tonight as a date. You both leave at 7: 15 pm on the dot, and it is currently 6. You are freaking out currently too because what did you willingly agree to?

You know that bastard has been locked away in his room for over an hour now. You know he was giddy ever since he got home way too early today because of your evening plans. He’s way too obvious. And desperate. He’s also getting desperate.

There haven't been any romantic advancements in your relationship. You’ve just fallen into a casual routine at this point, and you aren’t bothered when he is there on your bed at any time you turn to look at it, even if you left the door closed. He cooks for you most of the time, and sometimes you mend his clothes so that he doesn’t buy new ones while completely ignoring the magical appearance of a shit load of sewing materials after the first time you did it.

It’s all gotten normal at this point. Seeing his credit card in your wallet every single time you open it, having to look at his mask sitting on a side table in the living room, watching him remove the dual pistols strapped to his body when he gets home, and much more. It’s all normal now. You’re used to it.

Yet your nerves are about to burst because you’re going out for dinner with him in an hour.

Honestly, after the dinner where he licked blood off your finger, you haven’t gone out for food with him since. You mostly eat at home, but the most you guys have done is takeout.

Anyway, what do you do? You don’t want to try hard lest unforeseen and unwanted developments occur, yet you also don’t want to not try at all because it might sour his mood. The latter is unpreferable simply because you can’t bear to see him sad. Maybe you’ll put in a little effort. Not too much but a little.

Had Ajax not been in the mafia, you would have already accepted him. You know you’re delaying the inevitable, that he will get what he wants, but you still can’t help it. Your conscience weighs you down. His identity ties you close to hesitance and denial.

Nevertheless, here you are, a cream coloured maxi skirt flowing till your ankles and a dusty pink blouse with bishop sleeves. You can’t believe you actually wore this. Ajax was the one who gifted the blouse to you, saying something like the colour being nice and wanting to see you wear it.

Well. He’ll get his wish now.

After at least five consecutive minutes of staring into the mirror, you finally decide to put on some makeup. Nothing too much. A simple mascara, blush, and lipstick after whatever you ended up putting on your skin first.

Great! Now, shoes. Shoes…

You fish out a pair of nude sandals with a pointed tip and a one inch heel. Perfect. Seems like your mother giving you her old sandals came in handy. After checking if they fit, you take a look at the clock. There’s still twenty minutes till the clock strikes 7.

Twenty minutes of agony as nerves eat you from the inside.

Right at 7:02 pm, there’s a knock on your bedroom door. Shaking hands unlock the door, opening it to nervously meet eyes with your lovely housemate. He stands on the other side, hair parted in the middle as best it could be. One side is tucked behind his ear while the other hangs on his face, framing his jawline perfectly.

You take note of the black dress shirt and black pants. The sleeves are rolled up and his earring is still there. Also, why is his shirt so fitted? You know he’s ripped. He doesn’t have to rub it in.

“You wore the shirt,” he breathes out.

“It’s a blouse,” you correct.

“Beautiful.”

The way his eyes seem to look you over in awe makes your cheeks heat up. With an awkward clear of your throat, you snap his attention back to your face. “Didn’t you say you made a reservation?”

Ajax perks up at that. “Right! We should leave soon.”

You are then left to grab your bag and sandals while he goes to fish out his car keys and wallet. When you’re seated in the living room, trying to fasten the little buckle on the sandals, Ajax is wistfully staring at you from the kitchen, cheek resting in his palm.

“We would make a cute couple.” A sigh and he looks at your feet, silently wishing you’d ask for his help with it instead. “Do you… need help with that?”

To his not so very surprise, you brush him off. “I’m fine.”

“Huh.” He asks again. “Are you sure?”

“Yup.”

He still wishes you would ask for his help instead. Do you not realise that he would do anything you asked him to? He would willingly get on his knees for you, hands gingerly trailing up your legs before he decides to rest one on his shoulder, the other pulling him towards you as his hand travels upwards and-

“Ajax? It’s almost 7: 15.”

He snaps out of his thoughts instantly. You’re standing near the door now, head tilted in that cute way he adores as you curiously look at him. A hand quickly flicks the kitchen light off as he walks towards the door. This is going to be another test of his patience. He knows it. He just hopes you don’t blame him for anything he might end up doing tonight.

“I don’t get it.”

Childe looks at you curiously only to find you glaring at the open menu. “I don’t know what to get,” you say. “Can you order for me? Whatever you think is good here. You know the stuff I like and don’t like, so I trust you.”

The explicit trust makes him smile. As per your request, Childe orders for you, but it’s something different than his own so that you can try both things. If you like the food, he might even take you out more often. Eating out once in a while shouldn’t hurt. Not if he’s with you.

As he leans back in his seat, he finds you playing with the buttons on your sleeve. Childe hastily utilises the opportunity to scan the indoors, eyes quickly flitting over every single person present. None have noticed either of you, and none seem to be looking at you. Good.

A quiet ding sounds from your phone, the screen turning on for a few moments. You reach for it instantly, but Childe is quicker, his hand covering the device before you could grab it. You obviously look nervous because of the action, but he gives you a small smile.

“No phone while we’re out eating.” The expression on your face doesn’t change, so he adds in something else. “Please?”

You capitulate instantly, and he pulls the device closer to himself with a playful smile. He now has all your attention for this evening dinner. If Childe plays his cards right, he could monopolise this opportunity and possibly convince you more to actually go out with him. Or let him put a ring on your finger. Whichever you’d prefer.

But first…

“I wish we could’ve stayed home instead,” he sighs.

You raise a brow at his expression, simultaneously wondering why he’s looking at you so wistfully here of all places. “Why? Didn’t you want to go out for dinner? You were looking forward to this.”

“Yes but-” He bites his lip for a moment. He isn’t lying. He’s being completely honest, but it still feels a bit weird to be admitting it directly to you. “But… you look so pretty and I don’t like knowing that other people can see you when you look so beautiful.”

It’s the truth. He doesn’t like knowing that anyone and everyone here has access to your existence. That they can simply turn their head and look at you in that skirt. He doesn’t care if it’s till your ankles. You look absolutely enchanting. Childe hates it that anyone can see your collar bones and your curious expression and the way you’re tilting your head at him and the way you’ve started fidgeting with your sleeve already.

All these lovely things about you are supposed to be for him only.

But they aren’t.

And he hates that.

“Hey. Eyes up here.”

He didn’t realise he started staring at your collar bones. God, he hopes you don’t think he was staring at your chest.

“Now that you’re looking into my eyes,” you groan, “I want you to calm down.” Almost instinctively, Childe crosses his arms out of displeasure, but you are quick to cool him down. “No one is looking at me. Nothing even happened and you’re acting all jealous. Calm down.”

“I’m not acting.”

“Then stop overreacting.”

“I am definitely not overreacting.”

You give him a look, the one you usually give him when you know he is keeping something from you, but you would rather not put the effort into digging it out of him. “Right.”

Childe is quick to defend, to put out the bait in hopes you’ll take it. “Sweetheart, you’re beautiful. Of course I’m going to be pressed if other people look at you and think the same.”

You sigh. “We’re only out for dinner.”

“Yes, but I just… I don’t know.” He traces the handle of the cutlery on the table, all the while ignoring how you’re still fidgeting with your sleeves. He’s making you nervous. He shouldn’t be making you nervous.

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to burden you with my feelings.” Though you look like you want to say something, Childe beats you to it. “I love you, and I hope you know that I mean that word when I say it. I’m not afraid of saying the bigger word. I never will be.”

Both your hands have disappeared under the table. From the looks of it, you’re clenching them. How nervous are you? But wait. If he helps, if he shows you he can take care of you, then you might just…

Childe gently calls out your name, and you look at him with wide, innocent eyes. Poor thing. He asks you to show him your hands, and you comply. What you do not see coming is him gently grabbing the two before bringing them to cup his face. Childe especially presses the cold fingertips to his warm cheeks, effectively warming them up.

He’s thankful for reserving this relatively small table tucked away in a corner. No one can see your widened eyes and the look of adorable surprise on your face. No one.

Upon receiving no explicit refusal from your end, Childe grows bolder. The palms cupping his cheeks are each delivered a gentle kiss, and when there is no rejection, he moves lower, lips trailing to your wrists. This is when he feels the tug, the panic in the withdrawal. Your left wrist is in his mercy, soft lips tenderly pressed against your pulse, yet you tug your arm in retreat like a wounded animal.

Though it pains him, Childe lets go but only after making eye contact with you for a moment.

The face you give him is akin to one of a mixture of surprise and betrayal, and it dawns on him. This is the first time he’s touched you like this. Childe thinks he may have mixed his fantasies with reality because he did not ask for your permission for doing so. Now that he thinks about it, for a moment, he returns to the dreams and thoughts where he touches you as he pleases, and where you ask him to touch you. Where you climb onto his lap at random times of day and tell him how you are only his. How you want nothing to do with the rest of the world because he is your everything.

The only thing he wants is for those fantasies to become reality. Is that too much to ask for? Is it too selfish for him to ask that of someone so beautiful, so… heavenly?

Despite the shock on your face, you do not verbally express your thoughts. The silence is deafening. Your hands are clutched to your chest, and as the noise of the background fades into nothing but a quiet and continuous rumble, Childe’s thoughts start wandering. The first thing he wonders about is where he has to keep his eyes from straying. Your hands and your chest.

He can’t stop feeling the softness of your skin under his calloused palms. How your pulse felt under his lips. How it might taste if it bled. How warm the red might be. How red it might be.

Childe feels dirty for those thoughts, but he doesn’t care. He would gladly embrace such farcicalities if it meant you being the centre of his attention, your entire being on his mind more than his own existence. Then again, you are his life, no? Then why should he stop himself from thinking about you? Is it not wrong for a believer to not think about their worshipped deity? Likewise, it is wrong of him to forcibly shut your existence out of his wandering and lost thoughts.

Besides, the thought of you is where all his unruly and chaotic thoughts come together and finally make sense. So why should he not look at you like you were made from a piece of his ribs, fragile and the closest to his heart than anything can ever be?

“Ajax,” the name tumbles out of your mouth, and Childe feels like he can hear again. “Please stop staring like that. It’s getting creepy.”

An apology is quickly on his tongue, but you are quick to cut his words off before they can be uttered. “You’re acting a little weird.” He notices the worry on your face and the hands under the table. Childe thinks he doesn’t deserve you, but he’s selfish. Horridly so. “Are you feeling okay? We could go home right after eating if you’re not feeling too good, Ajax.”

You’re soothing him. Like how an owner soothes an unruly pet, you’re soothing him. How indulgent of you. Well, as long as you are thinking of him, he doesn’t mind playing like he’s putting the muzzle back on. You were never the one holding the leash anyway.

“I’m fine,” he replies. “Sorry. I just lost myself for a minute there. Were you saying something earlier?”

“Ah. No. Just… I was just asking if you were okay. I wasn’t saying anything earlier. Before that, I mean.”

Though tension has risen and it clearly shows in how your shoulders have stiffened, Childe cannot bring himself to mind. As long as your eyes are on him and him only, and as long as your voice graces his ears with his name, he won’t mind the discomfort in your countenance. It’s only a matter of time before you completely set aside denial.

It was halfway through dinner that you confessed telling your parents you’ll be home late tonight. This gave birth to an opportunity, and being the man that he is, Childe grabbed onto it like a desperate man. Questions were hushed and trust was exploited as Childe did what he could, what he wanted to do for so long.

The evening sea breeze never felt so good as it does now.

He stands with his arms resting on the railing, yet it feels different this time. It feels less lonely, more fulfilling, even if you both are in a secluded corner of the pier.

The lights from the opposite end of land reflects onto the water, and the smell of salt is in the air. Wind directly hits his face, hair flying back with it, but he’ll deal with the aftermath of it later. Right now, he’s waiting for you to be done with setting your hair so that he can talk to you.

You take a few more minutes to ensure hair doesn’t blow into your mouth or his face before joining his side, albeit at a distance large enough to fit another person which he promptly shamelessly closes. Yet when he turns to look at you, he is met with a raised brow.

“What?”

You’re quick to voice your observation, Childe’s eyes briefly focusing on the half-faded lipstick as he gives you his full attention. “Your hairline is a little uneven.” The sentence makes him chuckle, but you have more to add. “I didn’t think it’d be like that. It’s cute.”

“You’ve seen my forehead plenty of times.”

“I haven’t.”

He tilts his head. “Whenever I get out of the shower, my hair is slicked back. You’ve seen me get out of the shower.”

“Well,” you scrunch up your nose, “you’re shirtless and with only a towel. Why would I look at you then?”

“...” So all the times Childe has purposely walked by you in the living room or dropped off fruit when you’re studying while being fresh out of the shower was in vain. Why is he even surprised? Of course you wouldn’t look. It was daft of him to even consider that you would look. You avoid him like the plague whenever he tries to make a move. That does beg a question. Why have you been surprisingly cooperative tonight?

Are you planning something?

It can’t be. He keeps an eye on you. You go nowhere except class, occasional outings with friends, and shopping. Childe knows where you are at all times and with who and for what, with being the one taking you there. He even had you join that group project meeting online instead of in-person because it was in the evening and your group mates were all guys.

Considering those factors, there is no way you are planning something. He’s made sure of it. Besides, you are perfectly aware that you cannot try anything. Not only do you live with him, but he’s in the mafia. Were you to be missing or run away, you’d be back home before midnight.

There has to be another reason. Maybe you’ve grown more comfortable with him. Yes. That’s it. Perhaps it’s the delusion accompanying the compunction of all that he has done to you, but he believes you’re slowly laying down your defences. All that’s done is to wait till the wall is broken down too.

“Ajax,” you call, lips parting hypnotizingly, lipstick making them stick to the corners, “you’re staring again.” A pause, then you point something out. “You’ve been staring a lot tonight.”

He smiles, face resting on top of his arms crossed over the railing. “I can’t help it. You’re just so pretty.” You make a weird noise at that, but he chuckles. “I’m honoured to be breathing the same air as you. To be so close to you and see you with my own two eyes. I could never have said I’ve seen the world’s beauty before I saw you sitting behind that cash register in the store.”

You seem clearly taken aback at the sudden words. To be honest, Childe is too. He didn’t expect to say all that together. Still, if it conveys even a fraction of the intensity of his emotions, he’d say more.

A strand of hair falls into his eye when the wind calms, and he tries to blink it away. It’s disturbing his view of you. The way you’re looking at him as you think over your words feeds his proprietorial nature, for your words are all his to hear and your being all his to keep. Childe would keep you even if it means he has to hide you from the rest of the world lest you slip from his grasp.

Yet you are so good to him that he always melts at your unexpected surrenders. The time when you sewed up his shirt when he got a long, narrow cut at his side. The time when you made dinner and left some for him before going to bed when he texted you he’ll be home very late. The time you willingly came to him with your worries and let him console you.

And the way you remove the strand of hair that’s in his eye and allow him to look at you without obstructions.

If he could, he’d merge your beings into one so that no one else could ever have you, and you’d be his forever. He isn’t willing to break you to have you, but he is willing to hurt you just a little bit.

But before all that, he needs to figure out a way to make you all his. If it means putting a ring on your finger or faking your death or hiding you away from the world, he doesn’t care. You have to be all his.

From your body to your soul to your thoughts to your feelings to your touch to your very being. All. His.

“Ajax, you’re staring again.”

He stands up straight at that, one hand still grabbing the railing as he takes a step closer to you. This time, he does not smile. “Why don’t you love me?”

You question his sudden change in demeanour, but he presses further. “Why don’t you love me? What’s wrong? Tell me. I’ll fix it. I’ll fix us. Tell me how I can make you love me.”

Childe moves closer, and you instinctively move back, making him frown, but he soon cages you between the railing and his body. There’s not much space between you both, and you’re certain he would be able to hear your heart beat wildly if he moved just a tad bit closer. Nevermind the fact that your skirt is blowing with the wind and his legs are obstructing its path.

“I’m doing everything I know. Just tell me. All I want is your heart. All I want is you.”

You are quick to defend. “I already live with you. What more is there?”

“You,” he replies, breathless. “You don’t love me. You only live with me.”

“Because agreeing to that is why you let me go back home for the summer,” you remind him. “Well, I suppose either way I would have been here. If I said no, you would’ve taken me there earlier.”

“Do you feel trapped?”

“What do you think?”

Childe chuckles at that. Though he is culpable for this predicament, he also holds the power to change it to his favour. “Tell me then,” he whispers, wind once more blowing in his hair, “what do you want?”

Unfortunately for him, you play his game on equal footing. “Would you grant it?”

“No.” The look in your eyes is something smug, but he humours you anyway. “I can’t guarantee I won’t, but I guess it depends on what you ask me.”

A scoff accompanies your words now, the nervousness apparent in the way you grip the railing behind you for dear life. “You’ve told me numerous times you’d give me anything I want. Why are you so hesitant now?”

“Because I know what you are about to ask, and I’m afraid I can’t give you that.”

“And what am I about to ask?”

“To be able to leave me for good,” he spits out.

You simply shake your head. “No. Not at this moment at least.” Confusion laces his features, but you press your body impossibly closer to the railing. “I wanted to ask for some space. It’s… it’s uncomfortable like this. Please take a step back.”

Childe obliges instantly. Blue eyes watch your once white knuckles have colour return to them, and suddenly he feels a little childish for cornering you like that. A quiet sigh from your end steals his attention, yet he remains standing where he is, another demand on the tip of his tongue.

“Move in with me,” he says. “Move into my room. It’s been too long in the guest room already. You don’t need to stay there anymore.”

Frankly, you’re surprised. You thought he forgot about that by now considering that he never brought it up again.

“You’ve seen it. My room is bigger. I got this place because the master bedroom was big and it’ll easily fit both our things. You can make the guest room your study room if you want, but just move in already.”

He gives you that look again, the demanding one that makes you painfully aware of how dull and lifeless his eyes are. Although you have grown used to it and it doesn’t bother you as much, it still reminds you that if he wished, he could have done worse things to you. But he hasn’t. He waits and waits and waits till he’s about to bubble over. Till his feelings threaten to boil and spill out of the pot and even then he somehow calms it down enough to be coherent. Al because he promised to think about you before his own selfish feelings.

“We can start tomorrow,” Childe suggests, “or even tonight, there’s still time. You’ve been living with me for long enough. It’s time you actually moved in.”

Even while you are quiet, Childe has a million thoughts running through his head. Bed, lonely, empty, cold sheets, cold pillows, empty dressing table, empty nightstand. He recalls the room you’ve turned into your personal haven, the cluttered dressing table, the nightstand with a ton of wires, the eraser dust that’s almost always on the ground near your table, and the warm feeling that envelopes him whenever he enters this little haven of yours.

He needs to have you more or else he doesn’t know what he’d do. And he doesn’t want to know what he’d do to you.

“I hear you,” you speak up, successfully interjecting his thoughts, “but we’re not in a relationship. We can’t just start doing married couple things.” You make a face, scrunching up your nose like you always do. “Living in different rooms is appropriate because we’re still-”

“Marry me then.”

You shut your mouth immediately.

“Your problem is our relationship right?” Childe takes a step closer, eyes focused on yours. “Then marry me. Problem solved.”

“Wait. Ajax, that’s too fast. Calm down.”

“That’s not ‘too fast’. We’ve been living together for almost a year now. We’ve known each other for over a whole year. This isn’t fast.”

Regardless, you try to de-escalate it. De-escalate his rashness. “Okay. I understand. But we’re too young and my parents wouldn’t allow something like this so suddenly-”

“Leave them to me. I’ll handle getting their approval. They seem to like me anyway. That’s all you’re worried about right? And we’re not young. We’re adults.”

The apprehension grows. You do not know how this idea popped into his head, but you blame yourself for mentioning ‘married couple’ earlier. Why is he so obsessed? Is having you in his home constantly under his vision not sufficient?

“So what’s your answer? Or do you want to wait while I get a ring and you speak to your parents?”

The anxiety starts eating you from the inside. You know you can’t escape him. You’re too deep into his clutches to even consider escape, but you still hold onto feeble hope that you can delay the inevitable just a little longer. “Fine. You’re ready and okay for such a thing, but I’m not ready for such a big step.”

Contrary to your expectations, Childe’s mood further sours. “That’s what you always say.” As soon as the words are uttered, Childe remembers thinking to himself how he hoped you won’t blame him for anything he might end up doing tonight. Well. If it allows him to have you, he’d do anything. “The only difference would be that we’d be closer. Nothing else.”

“We’re close enough,” you meekly comment.

“So you don’t want to marry me?”

“No, it’s not that I don’t, but…”

“But?”

You think over the time you’ve lived under his roof. He has been controlling, sure, but he has been more accommodating and understanding. If you were to bet your life on one thing, it would be that Ajax would always unequivocally love and care for you. Besides, this is inevitable. The moment he locked eyes with you at your job, it had been decided that this would happen. That you would be his.

Delaying and denying all this simply makes you miserable. Who are you to deny such affection? Such love that suffocates you, surrounds you constantly with eyes in the shadows watching your every breath. Who are you to deny a man who has countless times told and showed you that he’d drop to his knees for you on a moment’s notice?

He may control your life and future, but you control him as well. Or you do to an extent at least. What his words cannot express, his hands and eyes do, and those things are precisely what have kept you going on the hope that the inevitable is not as horrifying as you delude yourself into thinking of it.

Ajax loves you, and you’d be damned if you refuse his love. Not only is there no way out, but you think you do not want out anymore. You’re too deep in his web.

Besides, you know that if you were to refuse him, he’d try again and again before eventually forcing it upon you. It’s better to accept. You can’t delay the inevitable.

Warm hands cup your face, thumbs rubbing the corners of your eyes. “Don’t cry,” he whispers, and you blink away tears you did not know you were shedding.

Minutes pass on the secluded corner of the pier, and when he is satisfied with how much you have calmed down, he lets you go. Hands hang by his sides as he waits for an answer, but you don’t keep him waiting. With a gentle pat to his cheek, you give him your answer.

“I’ll start moving my things in the morning.”

His celebratory smile only grows when you continue speaking.

“And… I’ll start talking to my parents. I’ll let you know the updates.”

You were in the middle of organising your things when the realisation dawned on you. You’re moving into his room. All of your things will go there. All of your things. Does this mean you both are officially in a relationship? That means he’s going to wake up next to you, go to sleep next to you, and you’re going to share a wardrobe with him. Even a bathroom.

This might just make his possessive nature worse. But it’s alright. You can talk sense into him. He usually does listen to you.

Nevertheless, you can’t help but wonder… Why are you accepting of this? Somehow the idea of being so close doesn’t bother you as much as you think it should. Do you really like him that way? Are you in denial?

Ajax’s voice calls out to you, asking if you need any help. You’re currently in the middle of going through your clothes, and you would rather he not bear witness to seeing your undergarments and clothes thrown haphazardly across the bed. Thus, you tell him no and continue organising, putting home clothes separate and classifying the rest accordingly.

When those are done, you let the piles be on the bed and move to your dressing table. Expired and empty containers are chucked into the bin, and you grab the rest and move outside, passing by a curious Ajax in the living room and making yourself home in his room. The bottles are carefully placed amongst his things, and soon the dressing table looks cluttered.

Well, to be used is to be messy. It’s okay.

You return to the piles of clothes and transport each pile one by one onto his bed. When all have been gathered, you place them in the space he’s apparently kept empty for you ever since he moved here in an orderly fashion, making sure all your undergarments are in the locked drawer instead of the regular one. There are no fingers or accusations pointed, but there is also no complete trust in this matter.

Ajax trails behind you this time, curiously watching you take your toiletries and place them in his bathroom. He eyes the addition of a new shampoo and conditioner and other bottles he doesn’t care to classify but is happy to simply see them there. You make the journey back to your ex-room and gather all your chargers and wires only to find yourself untangling them first.

“Do you need help?”

You’re quick to refuse, but he still stands there watching. Gathering them all in your hands, Ajax is tempted to offer his help again but closes his mouth when he remembers you telling him to “not butt in” while you move your things. So, he watches you and trails behind you. He follows you around and watches you as you bump into the sofa’s edge when he calls your name and stumble forward only to lose your footing and fall straight onto the floor.

It did not help that your arm had slid against the edge of the centre table and you horribly skinned the back of your arm.

Ajax stands there, horrified for a moment, before he ignores the cluttered mess of chargers and wires and crouches down beside you, immediately checking your injuries and helping you sit up. But it does not help him when he sees blood slowly starting to ooze from the mess of broken skin and you wince when he gently grabs your hand to look at the wound.

Regardless, he cups your face with the other hand while simultaneously looking you over for other injuries. When you assure him and his repeated questions that it’s just your arm, he relaxes a bit. However, he cannot help it. There’s more blood now, not a lot but enough to completely cover the broken skin, and if he leaves it be, it might start trickling down your arm before the wounds close.

So, Ajax does what his mind wants him to do. He kisses the skin near the wound at first, completely ignoring your questioning look, and slowly moves towards the injury. Soft lips glide over the skin, inching closer towards the desired target. Then, when he can feel your gentle tugs to be let free, he tightens his grip and licks.

Ajax licks some of the blood, the texture of broken skin welcomed by his tongue. You sit there horrified and extremely confused while he licks it again before freezing and letting go.

Awkward eye contact ensues, and your face clearly shows how utterly puzzled and alarmed you are. Nevermind the fact that those were wet licks and your arm has his saliva on it and the broken skin he lapped up is on his tongue which he is sneakily trying to swallow.

Minutes pass, and you finally gather the composure to speak. “Ajax. What the fuck?”

He is quick to be defensive, knowing full well you’ve been so good to him these days and he can’t afford to scare you off. “I just… I let my intrusive thoughts win. Sorry.”

Your terror only grows. “I don’t even want to know what your intrusive thoughts are anymore. Well. At least your licking distracted me from the pain. It doesn’t hurt anymore with your spit on it. Gross. Wash your mouth after this.”

Somehow, a smile stretches on his face. “Wash my mouth? After getting to have a piece of you? Sweetheart, a little bit of you is in me. Why would I ever not want that?” You open your mouth to interject but are cut off. “If I could, I’d make us become one. That way, I don’t have to worry about you thinking of anything else except me.”

You’re quite… speechless. Did he really just indirectly admit he wants to eat you? What the hell??

“Speaking of which,” Ajax whispers, “forgive me but another intrusive thought won.” With that, he moves closer. Close enough in your face to have your noses brushing. To his surprise, you do not create distance, allowing him to fan his breath over your lips as he slowly turns his head.

The only thing stopping his lips from kissing yours directly is his hand on your lips.

When he pulls away, Ajax’s blue eyes meet your widened ones, your face flushed and clearly flustered. Unfortunately for you, a grin is on his face. “I’ll kiss you for real when you say yes to the ring. Then, I'll make your body mine too.”

With that, he gets up and grabs the first aid box while you sit with his spit drying on your arm. You are sometimes genuinely terrified of him. This is one of those times.

“Don’t lick me ever again.”

Ajax frowns at that. “If you forbid me, then how am I supposed to go dow-”

“Stop! That’s enough!” You successfully shut him up, and he continues disinfecting your injury in silence. “Do not spew such mindless words ever again.”

Unfortunately, he catches onto your words, smiling mischievously. “I’ll do it if you do one thing.” When asked for his conditions, Ajax shamelessly gives his request. “Tell me you’re mine. That I’m the person you want.”

When you show hesitation, he is quick to remind you that you’ve agreed to completely move in with him and agreed to sleeping with him. Thus, you acquiesce.

“I’m… Ugh, I can’t believe I’m saying this.” He chuckles, but you continue humouring him. “I’m yours, Ajax.”

He pushes further. “And?”

Your cheeks heat up, and you meekly let out the second part. “And… you’re the person I want.”

As soon as the desired words leave your mouth, Ajax is soothed. Soon, he’s disinfected the mess of broken skin and tied a bandage around your arm for the time being so that you don’t accidentally hurt yourself again. When asked about his payment, you simply pat his cheek like you do, but decide to scratch the skin behind his ear before travelling upwards into his hair.

With a last pat to his head, you leave him a blushing mess with messy hair as you return to the wires scattered on the ground, picking them up before continuing what you were doing. It doesn’t serve him right that you casually rendered him paralysed and just got up and left. But then again, that is the least you should do against him after what he has done to you.

Flustering someone does not compare to putting them in a fancy cage. Well, Ajax’s deceit makes it hurt more. If you knew the full extent of his desires, you would never let him breathe the same air as you. But you do not. And that is precisely why he plans to slowly let them surface, to allow you time to accept him. He just hopes he doesn’t grow impatient with how good you’ve been.

(Bonus scene)

“What do you mean you want a pillow wall between us?”

You don’t mind Ajax’s childish whines, instead busying yourself with moisturising your face. But when he moves to remove a pillow, you are quick to turn and give him a glare. “I agreed to sleeping next to you and moving into your room. The least you can do is give me time to settle in and let me have a damn pillow wall.”

Ajax slowly puts the pillow back down quietly, and you turn around to close the moisturiser bottle. Though you catch a glimpse of him glaring daggers into the pillow wall, you continue cleaning the clutter of your things on the dressing table.

You’ll take it away in a few days. Let him suffer for a few nights.

#childe x reader #yandere childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #yandere tartaglia x reader #yandere childe #yandere tartaglia #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin impact #genshin impact x reader

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passivenovember · 2 months

Text

(sharing again because I'm so proud of this one)

When Billy Falls in Love

Max's hair is twisted into a rough pink towel when she answers the door. She’s got a berry sorbet sunburn peeking through the angry red flush on her cheeks, freckles looking like they could peel off at any moment. It’s the same way Billy gets in the summertime, but he turns gold in seconds.

Max stays angry red.

She wasn’t at the pool today. Steve knows because he was at the pool fifteen minutes ago, and Billy wasn’t there. And if Billy’s gone so is Max, and if Max is here--

“He’s not here. What’s with the flowers?” Max wonders, with her teeth pulling at the wrapper of a Scoops brand popsicle as she eyes the poorly picked and assembled bouquet of daisies and weeds Steve managed to convince the gardener to let him snag.

Steve can tell she doesn’t really want to know what the deal is. Maybe she already knows.

Max is fourteen and a perpetually bored pain in the ass, already moving to shut Steve out of the house when he jams his foot so the door won’t close.

Max tugs on it. Groans. “Steve,” Max says, sounding tired.

“Where is he?”

“I don’t know because we don’t keep tabs on each other, you psycho.”

“Bullshit,” Steve says. Neil’s car isn’t in the driveway, he almost points out.

Doesn’t.

Max almost cracks a smile, seeming to hear him anyway. If Neil’s gone that leaves Billy to play guard dog. “If you care so much about my stupid brother all of a sudden--”

“--All of a--”

“Get in your stupid shitty car and go drive around until you find him,” Max says, like. Get lost.

They’re so similar it burns. Chars licking over Steve’s skin in the shape of how they sneer and heckle the same, and they’re both so smart that Steve has to do math and study chemistry, and perform mental gymnastics just to keep up.

There’s a lot to latch on to, Steve’s hands slip over it like a gymnast missing the high bar.

The way she’s looking at him, the way Max said all of a sudden like Steve’s done something wrong--

“He used to drive you around,” Steve says, like. Aha. “Don’t you give a shit?”

About him?

About his bones and blood.

Max shrugs. “Why should I?”

And. Steve’s an idiot but he remembers how it was before, back when this whole thing started. His lips, red and tender from sucking on any piece of Billy he could find. His fingers, tugging on worn belt loops and begging for a night on Loch Nora and that dull, exhausted phrase gotta watch my sister sinking a hole in Steve’s hope.

“It’s summer,” Max says after a minute, irritated, “We have an arrangement in the summer. June to Labor Day I do what I want, Billy fucks off for a bit, and we always show up here right when--”

“His car's gone,” Steve says. Because she owes it to him and his months and months of blue balls at her lack of self-preservation. She owes it to Billy.

“His car’s gone because he’s not here, Steve, we just went over this--”

Max moves to slam the door and Steve holds it open, trying to ignore the hollow feeling that spreads through his stomach. “Why are you acting weird?” Steve demands.

“I’m not acting weird, you’re the one who’s trying to break into my house because Billy stepped out for five minutes,” Max tugs on the door, groaning dramatically, “C’mon Steve--”

Steve clutches the bouquet of flowers close to his chest. “We’re supposed to go see a movie.”

Max stops pulling on the door, all the attitude cut from her with something dull.

Steve swallows. His nails dig into the palm of his free hand. Steve feels blood swell, but it’s probably just sweat. “Billy. He’s not on a date--”

“Look, Steve,” Max says suddenly, sounding. Much older and wiser than she did five seconds ago. “I like you. You’re cute and dumb but you’re annoyingly sweet and thoughtful. You’re tall, too. You’ve probably failed freshman biology a couple of times.--”

“--I--”

“Shut up,” Max tells him, and Steve swears there’s a bit of green swirling in all that red, embarrassment mixing like watercolor. “Can I be honest with you, Steve?”

Steve nods. He takes his foot from the door jam and rubs his hand on his jeans. Shudders as the feeling in his stomach ebbs and swirls and gets so much worse.

“You’re not his fucking boyfriend,” Max says, and slams the door in his face.

“Well. To be fair, she’s not wrong.”

Steve grips the steering wheel. The leather crackles and squeals with the skin of his palms, giving way to the rumble of the engine when he turns the car onto Park Avenue.

“Jesus,” Eddie snaps, his free hand scrambling to brace against the passenger door while the bouquet teeters dangerously on his lap, “You don’t have to take the turns so fast, Harrington--”

“I can’t believe she said that.”

“--Fucking Evel Kenevil--”

“I mean. I’m practically his boyfriend, right?”

“Sure, and you’ll still be ‘practically his boyfriend,’ even if you drive at the speed limit.”

“Thought you said Max wasn’t talking out of her ass, Munson?”

“Look, I’m allowed to take things minute by minute. I’m just saying,” Eddie tightens the seatbelt against his chest, “You haven’t exactly popped the question.”

“You think Billy’s the kind of guy who--”

“Yeah,” Eddie says casually. “He’s exactly the kind of guy who wants to be asked out. I’ve seen the way he picks flowers and puts them in his own hair when he thinks no one’s looking.”

Steve snorts. “When has he ever done that?”

“We hang out, you know,” Eddie tells him, in lieu of an answer. “When you’re not around, we hang out loads--”

“Maybe you’re Billy’s mystery man,” Steve says only half serious. Mostly joking.

Eddie flushes deep red, “Anyway. This bag of weeds is a good start,” He mumbles, twisting the fat head of a dandelion gently between two fingers.

Steve doesn’t have it in him to unpack any of what that might mean.

They’ve been driving for what feels like hours. The sky has turned hazy, floating in that honey-dipped place between dayglow and starlight. The world will be gold, soon, and then dark. Midnight black.

Hawkins is a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it affair. A shithole. Billy only has a handful of places to hide.

Steve presses a little harder on the gas, knowing in the very pit of himself that this is crazy. This is insane, driving around like a bat out of hell with Eddie Munson, but Billy likes Eddie Munson. Steve tolerates him. And Robin’s at camp, so.

Eddie clutches the door again with another sharp, sudden turn. “Harrington--”

“I’m not dropping you off until I find him.”

“Alright,” Munson grumbles. He lights a cigarette and stares out the window for half a neighborhood block and then says, “How do you know he’s not at home, already?”

Steve grips the steering wheel, convinced Eddie wasn’t listening the first time. “Maxine said--”

“That was an hour ago.”

“Neil doesn’t get off until seven, if Billy’s gone he wont be back until six-thirty at the earliest.”

Eddie checks the dash. “It’s six-thirty now.”

“Do you wanna die today, freak?”

“God, you’re so unpleasant,” Eddie says, handing his cigarette over, anyway, “You’re the worst, actually. Worse than I ever imagined and I’ve imagined it a lot when Billy and Dustin yap their fucking gums about how great you are.”

Steve takes a harsh pull from the cigarette. Coughs and hands it back.

Eddie takes it from him. Ash gathers on the cherry but he’s got no self-awareness.

“If you get ash in my flowers, Munson--”

“Jesus Christ, would you give it a rest? He’s gonna love them. He’ll probably cry, once he’s done beating the shit out of you.”

Silence falls, lurid and uncomfortable, and Steve realizes Munson is watching him. Staring at him,

“This is insane boyfriend behavior, Harrington,” Eddie says.

“So, you admit I’m his boyfriend?” Steve tries weakly, in lieu of what he means. Why Should I Take Advice from You?

“I’m saying this is boyfriend behavior but you won’t be a boyfriend for long, once he finds out what we’re doing.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Steve grits his teeth. “What are we doing that’s so wrong, Munson?”

“Hunting him. Like a couple of crazy fucking bloodhounds.”

“We had a date,” Steve tells Eddie again. For the eightieth time. “Billy’s never missed a date so he’s either dead or dying or riding some other guy’s--”

Eddie bangs his head against the window.

Steve rolls the window down for him if only to protect the integrity of the Beemer. “Look, I know it doesn’t make sense to you, but I know Billy. And he wouldn’t just disappear without--”

“You’re not his dad,” Eddie tells him, and Steve.

Steve doesn’t have time to get into all the reasons that’s spot -fucking-on. He’s not Billy’s dad, because Steve loves Billy. To his bones and beyond, a little knob of heartache swirling around each nucleus of every atom in the very core of him.

Steve loves Billy so much it gets him into trouble.

Eddie sucks down his smoke again, like, “You’re really doing all this for a missed date?”

“What’s it to you?”

“I’m just saying,” Eddie shrugs, “I heard stories about you and the Wheeler chick. Seems like she missed a lot of dates at the end and you never did anything like this for her.”

“Billy’s not Nancy. Billy’s not like anyone, he’s--”

“Holy shit,” Eddie says, coughing. “You. You’re not just blowing smoke up my ass, you’re serious about him.”

And.

Munson says it like it’s a shock.

Like Steve Harrington’s not capable of loving anything but himself. His hair and his house on the hill and this stupid fucking car and maybe that’s what the losers at Hawkins High think, but they’re wrong.

Way wrong. Stuck four years in the past.

Steve has to bite down against every harsh word on the tip of his tongue, tear the sentences apart and swallow them down because of course he’s worried.

Steve’s worried all the time about a lot of things when it comes to this crush he’s been nursing for a year and a half. Steve worries if Billy sleeps enough, for one. If Neil was in a good mood today. How many new bruises Steve will have to cover with hickies the next time they see each other, paint all that hurt over with something good.

It makes him crazy.

Steve worries all the time if Billy loves him. If actually saying it makes a difference.

Steve wonders most of all how much money and begging it’ll take to get Billy out of that house on Cherry Lane. Steve’s spent many restless nights doing the math in his head, staring at the popcorn ceiling as he imagines taking Billy away from here. And if Steve’s taking Billy home, to the coast, then he’s taking Max, too.

So whatever number, whatever dollar amount Steve’s gotta hoard to make it happen--he’d better take it and multiply it by seven, because. Steve’s going to lasso the moon and give it to Billy in a bouquet of yellow daisies.

If it kills him.

He’s going to find Billy tonight and tell him the truth if it kills him--

“We’ve gone down this street, already,” Eddie says.

“You’re not helping.”

“I'm just pointing out the obvious.”

“And I’m just pointing out--”

“Look, if you care about Billy so much, why don’t you respect his privacy?” Eddie demands. Somewhere, along the way, he ashed his cigarette on the dashboard.

Steve wants to check the flowers.

Can’t find it within himself to be angry about that. “I just want to make sure he’s okay. If something happened to him and I wasn’t there to make it better and figure out how to stop it from happening again--”

“God, you’re such a brownie,” Eddie snaps, turning from the window. “What if he ditched you because he’s not into you anymore, Harrington? What if Billy got tired of waiting for you to pull your head out of your ass and stop obsessing over him where no one else can see it? What if he’s sick of being the plaything you fuck in the dark?”

Steve swallows. Feeling so, so small.

“Everyone says you’re a changed man,” Eddie gets closer, somehow. Looms. “What if Billy thinks you’re bullshit?”

Steve pulls the car to the side of the road. In front of them, hazy with the dregs of the afternoon, a coal brown sign announces that Hawkins will soon be a spot on a map left somewhere far, far away.

Everything in that shitty little town hangs over him. Feels so huge. Max and Neil and his parents and graduation and the last month of summer, sitting bigger than the sky.

The engine thrums underneath them and Steve swallows, turning against his seatbelt. “If Billy doesn’t love me,” Steve says, easy and slow, “He can say it to my face.”

Eddie blinks.

Steve can sense the cogs turning, underneath all that hair. Brown like his, curly like Billy’s. “It won’t change how you feel about him?” Eddie asks.

And Steve realizes, like a punch to the gut, that Eddie Munson cares about this.

About Billy.

He’s worried, too, in his own twisted, guard-dog best friend kinda way. It reminds Steve of Robin. Dustin, too, always baring their teeth at Billy because they’re not fully convinced that this thing between them will survive the summer.

That Steve would survive losing this.

He wishes, a deep ache thrumming in his chest, that everyone would either get it or fuck off.

“I love him,” Steve says easily, “Love isn’t something that stops just because the other person’s come to their fucking senses about how much of a loser you are. It isn’t something you say because you want to hear it back. I’ve loved him for a year and a half and I’ll love him even when he realizes I’m not half good enough.”

Eddie smirks. It’s slow and terrible.

“Alright, Harrington,” He leans back in his seat and nods, satisfied. “I think I know where our boy is hiding.”

Duane county used to house to the only mall within a hundred miles until Starcourt.

It’s a small and bustling and annoyingly progressive city, compared to Hawkins, and Steve isn’t the least bit surprised that Billy would run to a place like this to hide for a while.

What surprises him is that Billy knows how to skateboard.

He’s riding the half pipe, so focused on the concrete that laps like waves under the wheels of his long, colorful board that Billy doesn’t notice when the Beemer’s engine cuts and Steve opens the driver’s side door.

Eddie doesn’t move.

“You coming?” Steve asks, frowning when Eddie sparks something too pale and skinny to be a cigarette.

“Nah, you go ahead.”

“You don’t wanna give me your blessing?” Steve wonders, suddenly terrified that Billy won’t go steady with him if he doesn’t see the irritatingly awful face of his best friend giving the thumbs up.

Eddie hands Steve the bouquet. It’s crushed and it smells like dope.

“Billy’s gonna take one look at these sorry fucking flowers and break up with me,” Steve grumbles, his nose scrunching, and.

Eddie smiles at him.

It’s soft and real, and kind of beautiful, and Steve gets why Chrissy Cunningham is apparently head over heels for the guy.

“He loves you, too,” Eddie says, like, “Go on. Quit stalling. Don’t think your big love confession will feel the same if I have told your hand through it.”

Steve slams the door, and Billy floats to the top of the half-pipe with the echo of it. He looks like an angel in the clouds, shirtless with his skin golden in the setting sun, jeans slung low on his hips. The curly, bronze tendrils of hair Steve will always remember the feel of are swooped back in a scrunchie.

Max’s scrunchie.

Billy squints across the parking lot and recognizes Steve, his expression clouding over immediately. “What the fuck are you doing here?” He demands.

Steve waddles across the parking lot, “Eddie’s here,” He calls, like an idiot.

“So?” You fucking him now?”

“No, I--”

“What are you doing here, Harrington?”

Steve almost trips over himself, knees with with nerves. Billy does that to him, always. Forever.

The half-pipe is huge up close, looming like the mast of some ancient, terrible ship and Billy is the pirate waiting to throw him overboard. “We had a date,” Steve says.

Out of breath.

Weak.

“I had to get out of that house,” Billy shades his eyes with one hand, holding the long board aloft with his bare foot. He doesn’t say anything for a long, terrible moment and then he says, “Whatcha got there, pretty boy?”

“Flowers,” Steve tells him.

“Flowers,” Billy mocks softly. There’s no bite.

He considers the moment. The Scene. Steve Harrington, with flowers clutched to his chest and the dingy little park beyond that and Eddie Munson, probably, hanging from a cloud of marijuana smoke as the afternoon crashes into nightfall.

As Steve crashes and burns.

Steve holds his breath. Billy glides down the half pipe, seeming to ride on the wind until he comes to a delicate, perfect stop in front of him.

He smells like peaches.

He’s been eating peaches. Billy’s hands are sticky when he grabs the bouquet, and Steve’s skin lights on fire from his touch.

It’s so usual. It’s brand new every time.

“You bought me flowers?” Billy asks, pinning Steve with a clear, vibrant stare.

His eyes are so blue. So beautiful--

“I didn’t buy them, I. I picked them,” Steve says dumbly, “The gardener was going to clear them away, but. I wanted to pick some for our date. I always pick you up on the way but I never bring anything, and I thought. Maybe Neil wouldn’t notice who they were for if it seemed like someone just picked them from a garden. Or the side of the road,” Billy snorts, and Steve nearly breaks an ankle trying to recover, “But I’ve thought about it, and they’re almost out of season, so the gardener--”

“--Right--”

“And. I see them every morning, from my bedroom window, and they remind me of you. Pretty and. Golden, so. I caught the gardener just in time, and i had to pay him $5 to let me pick ‘em before he cleared them away. They’re pretty. Right? I wanted--”

Billy sniffs the daisies first. His eyes close, lashes casting long, noir shadows over the cinnamon freckles on his cheeks and Steve aches to live forever in this moment. To scrape the image into his mind so it can live there, in a house made in Billy’s image.

“Some of these are weeds,” Billy tells him.

“I--”

“Are you in love with me, Harrington?” Billy rubs the petals of one flower with his thumb, watching as the stems knock together. He’s holding the bouquet like it’s made of glass. Like it might shatter and crumble away if he’s not careful, and Steve.

Feels that way about Billy.

“I,” Steve tries again,

“Thanks for the flowers,” Billy says, and he turns to go.

“Wait,” Steve says. Begs. He almost reaches to stop Billy but he doesn’t want to hurt him.

Billy stops. Waits.

Something sharp and fragile sits there, just under the layer of indifference Steve was always too stupide to notice before, but.

“I love you,” Steve says. He sounds strangled. Drowning.

It hurts.

It hurts and it really, really doesn’t when Billy flushes red. “I love you, too.”

And.

Steve’s going to catch on fire at any moment. “You love me,” He repeats, testing the words. He doesn’t trust them to hold his hope. Doesn’t think Billy means it how Steve aches and dreams he does. “You love me, like. How you love Max? Or Eddie? Like a friend who you want to suck off sometimes--”

“Eddie and I are just friends,” Billy says, quickly. His gaze is steady on Steve’s face. “I don’t need anyone else for that, I have. You.”

He does.

He really does.

Billy’s watching Steve like he’s expecting him to say something else, and maybe he is. Has been, for as long as they’ve been sliding inside of each other. Steve was just too dumb to get it before now.

So he straightens his spine. Clears his throat. Says, “Well. I love you like I want to take you on dates. And introduce you to my parents. I want you to go steady with me and wear my letter--”

“We can’t do that sort of stuff, Harrington.”

“I know.”

“Well, then, why’d you say it?”

“Because it’s what I want,” Steve snaps. Like, “You’re so annoying.”

“It was your idea,” Billy smirks. It’s beautiful. It’s Steve’s second favorite thing, second only to his laugh. And the soft curve of his lips. Billy fiddles with one of the weeds and says, “You don’t even have a letter to give me.”

“Neither do you, asshole,”

“So now what?” Billy demands, his arms flaring wide, “You’re gonna say you want to go steady with me and we’re not gonna do it? Tease.”

Steve rolls his eyes to the heavens, grumbling as they plop wetly on the sun-warmed earth. Billy’s still barefoot and Steve wonders how his toes aren’t burning. “How are your toes not burning?” He demands.

“They are,” Billy tells him, annoyed.

And then.

Steve gets an idea.

He sits on the ground and pulls both shoes off.

“What are you doing?” Billy snaps, but Steve can hear a smile in his voice, curling tendrils through the teasing annoyance that has made him so different from anyone Steve has ever loved before. “Steve--”

“Here,” Steve says, standing to hold the shoes out in front of him. He hops from one foot to the other as his heels start to burn.

Billy stares at the Nike’s as if they’re coiled snakes. Like if he takes them, they’ll burrow under his toenails and poison him from the inside out. “I don’t get it--”

“I don’t have a letter, but. People might see you in them and get it, right? When has anyone ever seen Billy Hargrove in a pair of Nike’s?”

Billy blinks, confused.

“You’re mine,” Steve says. “So they’re yours. Take them,”

Billy considers him for a long moment and then sets the bouquet on the ground. “Wait here,” He says, and skates off around the bend in the half pipe.

Steve’s feet are on fire.

He’s hopping dramatically, and in the distance he can hear Eddie laughing, and Steve’s going to kill him, but then.

Billy’s back and he’s holding his boots in his hands. “Here,” He says, “Eye for an eye, right?”

And Steve doesn’t need to be told twice. He slips into the worn leather, pleasantly surprised at how comfortable they are. His feet thank him, the raging fire finally simmering.

Steve watches Billy.

The careful way his fingers lace the Nike’s onto his feet. How his hips shift his weight when he stands. Billy walks in a slow, timid circle, “Shit, Harrington,” He says thickly, “I’ve never been someone’s boyfriend before.”

Steve shrugs, “I’ve never had a boyfriend, before.”

“Think we’ll be any good at it?” Billy asks. He squats deeply, popping back up with a wide, beautiful smile planted pretty as a forest on his face.

It beams itself, magically, onto Steve’s. Startles a bright, hysterical laugh from somewhere deep inside of him.

“You’re perfect,” Steve says. Nothing has ever felt more true.

#harringrove #clothes sharing #fluff #love confessions

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yukishirostar · 4 months

Text

So people are talking about a post in the Zolu tag by a certain tumblr user in regards to their issues with Zolu as a ship. They shall be unnamed because i dont wish to bring attention to them and instead just want to focus on their arguments because they're not the first people to make some of these points and so this is also an opportunity for me to talk about these things (a tweet is going around on Twitter containing these screenshots with the username so you can find it there if you need to anyway).

The way this person dismisses the relationship between Zoro and Luffy as a result of needing to pair gay Zoro with someone is too laughable, they must be very fit in order to be able to do these mental gymnastics. I believe that many people who are going on about the Zolu scenes in the OPLA were already Zolu shippers who were familiar with the original story and are enjoying the moments because they were well, really good Zolu moments? And there is actually, shockingly, many good Zolu moments in the original story too which is why many people ship them. Wild, I know.

Then there's 'straight-washed Sanji'. Equally if not more of a bizarre thing to believe. I might make some people mad especially the Sanji stans out there who constantly insist on the 'repressed queer' narrative with his character, but Sanji is written pretty explicitly to be seen as a cisgender and heterosexual character. The way you say with your whole chest that Luffy is 'canonically' aroace but don't acknowledge that Sanji is 'canonically' cishet is beyond hypocritical. If you believe Sanji looking like a 'misogynistic straight man' is different from the way he is written in canon then maybe you should go back and reread/rewatch series with your eyes open this time. If you wish to headcanon him with the frankly offensive repressed bisexual/transgender cliché then go ahead, but that is clearly not the intention Oda has with his character.

There's also the fact that aroace people can uh. Be in relationships. Get married. Have children. Did it occur to you that many people who ship Zolu ship them as an ace couple or-

First thing I want to say here, as a trans man who is 'mlm', can other dudes stop with this idea that women or fem-aligned individuals enjoying homosexual relationships between two men is inherently fetishising or that as a masc-aligned individual your enjoyment of a ship is morally superior in some way. Stop pulling out your 'mlm/ transmasc / cis gay' card in order to justify why your ship is superior. Its cringe af.

But if we are to insist that 'cishet female gaze fetishising mlm' is going on then ironically Zosan fits that the better than any ship in the fandom. It being by far the most popular mlm ship means there is likely a higher proportion of people who identify as cishet women who ship it. Its also the classic 'two men who dislike/hate eachother and have a toxic relationship but hot sexual tension' slash/yaoi stereotype. Majority of Zosan I've come across is depicting Zoro as the masculine male man in the relationship while Sanji the effeminate twink that Sanji stans project themselves onto and they go crazy for the bickering that is apparently reminiscent to them of a toxic heterosexual marriage. Meanwhile every Zolu/Luzo shipper I've interacted with has been some flavour of queer and Zolu is closest to the 'falling in love with your same sex bestie' narrative that the majority if not every non-heterosexual person has experienced at least once in their lifetime. This is just my personal view of course, but I think noting a difference in perspective on this topic is interesting and reveals that at the end of the day this is totally subjective and based purely on anecdotes.

Also it's just a very weird point here that apparently OP has 'plenty of varied queer rep' (it actually doesn't have that many canonical queer characters in relation to its cast size but anyway) and other media doesn't so shipping aroace characters in gay relationships is valid in those but not in One Piece … HUH???? So you're saying if One Piece had 'less' queer rep, then Zolu would be fine to ship? Idek my brain hurts.

"I have black friends so I'll speak for the black community and get offended for them" (btw this person then proceeded to block aroace people who had issues with their depiction of aroace people).

Also if we're talking canonical depictions, the only thing Zoro has been canonically depicted as is also aroace, equally if not moreso than Luffy. So by your own rules, you can't ship a cishet (sanji) with an aroace (zoro), therefore Zosan is now invalid. Stop erasing Zoro's aroace identity bigot.

'Categorically wrong' makes me laugh. I don't ship Zoro and Nami but like, people can ship what they want to??

'The general public is aware enough of gay people and how to spot them these days' uh... firstly this sounds very homophobic. Secondly the general public (cishet ppl) are famously bad at recognising queerness even when its in flashing lights before them. Thirdly you make it sound like Zoro was going around on roller skates and booty shorts listening to YMCA and Madonna in the show. I do agree he was gay-coded but it was mostly because he had sexual tension with every man he interacted with, not for the strange reasons you pointed out...

Its kinda the elephant in the room too but like. These are just headcanons. You can have multiple headcanons and interpretations of a character's sexuality. I can see Zoro as aroace virgin one day and a gay h*e the next. I'm actually allowed, legally, to do that.

The way they think shipping Zolu is harmful to aroace representation when BOTH characters are closest to being canonically aroace than anything yet ship Zosan, label being anti-Zolu as some kind of pro-ace activism, and then proceeded to block aroace people for criticising their incorrect depiction of what being aroace is...

This was a lot of words to say that you don't like a ship. Just say you don't like it, and it gets in the way of the ship you like, instead of writing a virtue signalling essay to justify your reasoning. Please.

They had some more to say on future posts I'll just pick my favourite bits

They really have this narrative that Zolu is only popular because of OPLA and can't fathom that its just a popular ship in general and always has been huh. And they couldn't make it more obvious that they're totally salty about it ranking in the top 100 most popular tumblr ships, lmao.

Your classic case of 'self-identifying ally who speaks over the people they are supposed allies of'. Its a general rule that you feel the need to declare yourself an ally you're probably not an ally, actual allies know they need to just shut up and do the work. Saying 'this character's aroace' and 'I have aroace friends' actually isn't what allyship is, thats just accepting that ace people exist which is like... the baseline.

Calling a wholesome loving ship like Zolu an icky ship is a severe consequence of online brain (this person is 26 years old btw)

#long post #Zolu #Luzo #One Piece #response

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apomaro-mellow · 10 days

Text

Family Planning 2

Part 1

When he got home that evening, he called both Tommy and Carol to let them know he wouldn’t be able to pick them up the next morning. All in service to the big reveal tomorrow. The fake stomach had been smuggled out of the theatre department and only now did Steve take it out, alone in his room.

He put it on with surprising ease and looked himself over in the mirror, snickering to himself. Then he put a shirt over it and widened his eyes at how realistic it looked. His arms slowly wound around to cradle his stomach. He let himself imagine that it was actually his, that it was actually his and Eddie’s.

“Yeah right”, Steve scoffed, like he was trying to convince himself as he took it off.

The next day, Steve was having breakfast with his parents when he heard someone pull up to the driveway. Not just someone. It could only be-

“Who is that?”, Steve’s father Richard frowned at the van out front.

“That’s my Home Ec partner. Gotta run!” He gobbled the rest of his cereal, put his bowl in the sink, kissed his mother’s cheek and then ran out the door. Once he got in the passenger side, Eddie took off, not even waiting for him to have his seatbelt on.

“Jesus, why are you in such a rush? Is that anyway to treat someone who’s expecting?”

“Sorry, just excited”, Eddie said, putting the pedal to the metal.

Steve could understand. He was kind of feeling a buzz too, but he wasn’t about to admit it. On the way to school, he worked on slipping the fake belly over his real one.

Eddie wasn’t exactly a virgin. He’d messed around a couple of times before. But even so, seeing Steve’s bare torso, his belly button and happy trail, he kept from swerving only just because he was turning anyway. He kept his eyes on the road, resolute, after that. What a stupid way to die, ogling a guy who’d never given you the time of day. Because of his focus, he didn’t get to see Steve’s new look until he parked.

It looked so…natural. He swallowed, eyes moving slowly up his body to meet the omega’s.

“Are you ready?”, Steve asked.

Eddie grinned. “It’s showtime.” He got out first and then went over to Steve’s side, clearing his throat before he spoke. “Watch your step, baby.”

Steve’s ears burned at the pet name. They had made this grand plan, pretending to be expecting parents. But he hadn’t really visualized what that would look like in practice besides the dropped jaws of their peers. Eddie held his hand out to help Steve out of the van, all part of the show. And when he finally stepped out all the way it was like he could hear the hush come over the parking lot.

Everyone who caught sight of them was trying to do the mental gymnastics to make sense of what they were seeing. Eddie snickered as he put an arm around Steve’s shoulders, enjoying the spectacle. They walked passed a few cars before getting to Tommy’s truck, where he and Carol were leaning against the bumper.

“What the hell am I looking at?”, Carol said, eyes bugging out of her head.

“This has gotta be some kind of joke”, Tommy glared in confusion.

And even though Steve was their friend, their befuddlement kept them from approaching. As it did to others. Everyone just stared on. Only a few knew that they’d been paired for the Home Ec project. Plenty knew about the lunchroom incident but didn’t exactly know how Steve was involved. Eddie walked Steve to his locker and only then did he take his arm off his shoulders.

“Time for Papa Bear to bring home the bacon. Don’t miss me too much.” He bent over to kiss Steve’s false belly and then skipped off. For all his bravado, there was a part of him that was nervous that Steve might think he went too far. Best to get out of whopping distance in that case.

No one had ever kissed his stomach before. But then again, Steve supposed no one had a reason to. Even though he hadn’t really felt it, the place Eddie kissed tingled all the same. He quickly checked himself before going off to class. It wasn’t like he liked the man. They’d barely spoken to one another. Maybe he was a little easy on the eyes, nice hair anyway. But the man’s fashion sense left a lot to be desired.

Steve’s thoughts were cut off when his homeroom teacher choked at the sight of him. Everyone else in the room stopped talking. Steve entered with his head held high but for a moment he wondered if this was how it would be if he actually got knocked up. How long would it have taken him to show? Would people stare this much? He vaguely recalled a girl last year who got pregnant. Of course, she dropped out and Steve had no idea what became of her until he happened to see her at the grocery store, carting a pup along.

She seemed content. Although he now realized he had no idea what happened to the person who sired her pup or who they even were. The double standards had always been apparent to Steve but even more so now that he was stepping into that role.

At some point during class, he started resting his hand on his stomach. It just felt natural. And then he began to rub it. It wasn’t hard to imagine it was all for real. It was just hard to wrap his head around having a baby himself. Steve had never gone steady with anyone. What kind of alpha would he eventually be with?

The thoughts ran through his mind for the remainder of homeroom, when Eddie showed up to come and ‘pick him up’.

“Did my two darlings miss me?”

“It wasn’t even half an hour”, Steve rolled his eyes. He was aware that Eddie didn’t attend his own homeroom because that was usually when he went out to the abandoned picnic area to sell his party favors. Bring home the bacon, indeed.

Eddie escorted him to his next period, which he shared with Carol and Tommy. Of course, they were already there and before the period officially started, they grabbed Steve and made an exit. Loitering in the halls when they should be in class wasn’t out of the ordinary, especially for a teacher that droned like Mr. Parsons, but he could tell this wouldn’t be their usual hang out session.

“What’s the deal with that?”, Carol cut right to the chase, pointing at his torso.

The hallway was empty, everyone either in class or loitering elsewhere. Steve just shrugged while smiling. He knew jokes like this weren’t their thing, which is why he didn’t bring it up before the reveal. They were more into the kind that were at other’s expense.

“It’s just a gag. And a way to not fail Home Ec this year.”

“Did Munson put you up to this?”, Tommy crossed his arms.

“He came up with the idea but clearly I had nothing against it.”

Carol’s face was green. “You look ridiculous. What if people actually think you’re pregnant?”

“Then they’d be stupid”, Steve said. No one went from flat stomach to showing in a day. It was such a change that his shirt almost didn’t fit him.

Tommy shook his head. “You had like, one detention with him and he’s got you all flipped around, doing his bidding.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “It’s not like that. And it won’t even be that long. We’ve got a plan.”

The rest of the day went by with the same gawking and staring that had begun in the morning, especially when Eddie sat at Steve’s table during lunch. If looks could kill, he would have been double dead by the way Carol and Tommy were glaring. Steve paid their attitudes no mind and treated it as if Eddie always sat there.

At the end of the day, Eddie took Steve home and he took the belly off on the drive back. They looked at each other, rather pleased with themselves.

“I can’t believe the looks on all their faces”, Eddie beamed.

“I think some of those jaws are still on the floor”, Steve said.

“Ready for the big climax tomorrow?”

Steve took a breath. “As I’ll ever be. Think this’ll actually get us back on track for the assignment?”

“That or we get suspended. But! Engels won’t wanna deal with me for a whole other year and you’ve got the untouchable quality of being on a sports team, so they’ll probably let us off with an essay.”

“God, I hate essays”, Steve rubbed his face. “Why makes us write five hundred words when I can say it in like 12?”

“You think five hundred words is a lot? That’s adorable.”

Steve scowled at him and Eddie gave a very dramatic wince. To the point where he fell back against the driver side door with his hand to his heart.

“There it is! The Royal Evil Eye!”

“Shut the hell up”, Steve scoffed.

“If it makes you feel any better about our situation, I don’t mind helping you with that essay. We’ll probably be spending many afternoons in detention after tomorrow.”

Steve didn’t know when the prospect of such a punishment didn’t seem like such a drag anymore. With Eddie around at least it wouldn’t be boring.

“It’s the least you can do”, Steve said as he opened the door. “If you’re gonna be my alpha, take responsibility.”

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

The next day started the same but this time, both Eddie and Steve were a little nervous. Yesterday was like a pre-show compared to what would go down today. They had Home Ec today and if their teacher hadn’t heard about Steve’s new predicament, she’d find out the moment they walked in.

Steve skipped homeroom that morning, going with Eddie into the theatre department where one of Eddie’s friends, Gareth, was helping them with this final stunt.

“Okay, are you guys really sure you wanna do this?”

“Just tell me you got it rigged to max pressure”, Eddie said.

“Dude, the whole classroom is going to be a splash zone”, Gareth assured him.

“How do you know how to do all this?”, Steve asked.

“You know those guys who do effects in horror movies? That’s gonna be me one day.”

The period for Home Ec came and Ms. Engels’ eyes got wide watching Eddie walk in with his arm around Steve’s waist. There were snickers coming from the other students as it was clear she had NOT heard that they had a bundle on the way.

“Just what do you two think you’re doing?”

“By my watch, I’d say arriving to class a full minute early”, Eddie said just as the bell rang. “Oh, mine must be a little fast.”

“You were told to show that you can handle the responsibility of parenthood”, she began to scold as they took their seats, this time right next to each other.

“What’s more responsible than this”, Steve said. “I’m all ready to become a mother.”

She glowered. “Teen pregnancy is a serious issue.”

“Then why don’t we learn anything useful?”, Eddie challenged. “All this school has taught us is ‘don’t have sex, oh but in case you do, here’s a bag of flour’. How does a bag of flour teach us anything about babies?”

“I’m calling the principal”, Ms. Engels said, going to the phone on the wall. “Detention will be the least of your worries.”

Eddie stood up. “Careful, you don’t want to put stress on my Stevie. He’s due any minute now.”

“Principal Woolsley, the Munson boy is at it again. I need you in my room this instant.”

“I’m warning you”, Eddie said.

“Are you threatening a teacher!?”

“Eddie!”, Steve gasped. “That baby’s coming!”

“Oh you’ve done it now Engels!”, Eddie shook a finger at her and then helped Steve to stand up like he was actually going through labor.

The rest of the class watched on, engaged in the spectacle. Eddie went right over to Ms. Engels’ desk and in one sweep, brushed everything off her desk and onto the floor. There were gasps and shrieks and guffaws and Eddie lived for it as he brought Steve over to lay on top of it.

“Okay, honey here we go. Just breathe and push with me.”

“This is completely unacceptable!”

“And push!”

Steve’s face only showed glee as he pretended to push the baby out, waiting for Eddie’s cue. He really was some kind of showman, hamming it up for his audience. He waited for the tension in the room to rise before he went around to Steve’s front, peering between his clothed legs.

“I think I see a head! It’s time to really push!”

A few heads craned like they’d actually be able to see a pup crowning when Steve was still wearing his jeans. It was the suspense of whether or not something, anything would come out. Eddie went back to Steve’s side and held his hand, grounding him. Steve took a breath and they let Gareth’s work explode.

Right into Mr. Woolsley’s face.

The tomato sauce was pretty thick, filled with chunks that would’ve been a pretty good stand in for viscera. But even through it all, they could see the man’s red face. His voice was scarily even as he spoke.

“I’m calling your parents.”

Part 3 coming soon

Tag Team

@marklee-blackmore @aol19

#apo writes #stranger things #steddie #omegaverse #a/b/o

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mellifluouaamor · 2 years

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HII I HOPE YOU DONT MIND ME REQUESTING <3333 Can i request a jeremy and Dion dating an overall sweetheart female reader, who's just really gentle and sweet? :D tysm again!

DION AGRICHE, JEREMY AGRICHE (SEPARATE) ⍣ FEMALE READER

synopsis. when you got isekai'd into your favourite manhwa, you didn't expect to find yourself dating an agriche - especially since the two of you are polar opposites.

warnings. mentions of torture and killing (not towards reader), possessiveness.

author's note. ok ok hear me out- i know you didn't request for isekai!reader, but i thought that the concept of her dating the agriche boys because she's a simp for them would be fun to play around with. she has the traits that you mentioned though!

when DION went to the border to dispose of the pedelian guards just like his father had ordered him to, he didn't expect to witness you falling from the sky. for the first time in his life, he was surprised - and the fact that he felt an emotion compelled him to catch you in his arms.

the moment you realised that you had stopped falling, you opened your eyes and nearly screamed. even though dion was wearing a hood and a half face mask, you recognised his bright red eyes immediately. of all the possible characters in the manhwa, it had to be dion agriche who found you first; you didn't know if you should squeal in joy since your favourite villain is carrying you like a princess, or if you should quake in fear at the likelihood of him taking you prisoner.

as you were occupied with doing mental gymnastics, he silently observed you, head cocked slightly to one side. he thought it was interesting that you didn't try to resist him or at least shout for help (both of which are futile), considering the dangerous situation you're in. any normal person would be scared especially when surrounded by piles of corpses.

you could tell that dion was weighing his options of either killing you since you're a witness, or keeping you in one of the agriche residence's prison cells until he has a use for you. desperate to live, you impulsively yanked his mask down and tugged his head towards you, causing his lips to smash against yours. his eyes widened.

"why did you do that?" he asked when you pulled away.

"because... i love you!" you exclaimed, giving him the sweetest smile you could muster. you learnt from another manhwa that the best way to survive an encounter with a dangerous person is to catch them off-guard with a love confession! you're not exactly lying about your love for dion anyway, and the consequences of this will be a future you problem.

"even though i could kill you right now?"

"i feel a certain excitement knowing that my life and death are in your hands."

"... interesting. it'd be a waste to have you dead," dion said with mirth. maybe you could solve his problem of needing a wife to continue the agriche bloodline in the future, as all of the women he's met/been introduced to so far are boring. he needed someone who could add a little fun and excitement to his mundane, humdrum life, and you seem to be the right person to do so. before you could say anything else, dion swiftly knocked you out.

... and that's how you found yourself chained to dion's bed with a collar around your neck. everyone, especially roxanne, was surprised to see him strutting inside the manor with your unconscious self slung over his shoulder earlier, and when he had claimed that you're the woman he wishes to marry, lante allowed him to keep you. as long as you have a pretty face and can give birth to children who'd make fine agriches, lante doesn't care who dion chooses as his bride.

dion took his father's permission too literally and keeps you in his room like a pet. still, he takes good care of you by feeding you well and letting you sleep on the same bed as him. it can be a little awkward sharing a bed with dion because he tends to hug you very tightly in his sleep, as if he doesn't want to give you any room for escape.

he doesn't let you roam around the manor alone because of jeremy; dion knows that he hates him, and would rather not have you run into any problems involving his moody half-brother. it'd be troublesome too if jeremy somehow takes a liking to you because dion is not fond of sharing what's supposed to be his in the first place.

dion is possessive of you, and his possessiveness increased tenfold after he was exposed to your gentle side. when he returned from an errand drenched in blood one day, you didn't hide how worried you were for him. even though the collar limited your distance from the bed, you kept trying to reach for him as he slumped on the floor. it didn't show on his face, but he was exhausted; he couldn't look at you properly and only heard you calling his name frantically...

when he finally came to, he found himself resting on your lap, your hand gently stroking his forehead. relief washed over you when you noticed that he's awake, and you cupped his cheeks.

"you're awake! don't collapse on me like that ever again, i almost got a heart attack-"

"... you were worried?" he asked.

with a huff, you replied, "of course! i don't want anything bad to happen to you, dion. b-besides, we're kinda dating each other."

dion grew up with a mother who didn't love nor care about him. he grew up with a father who only cared about what value he can bring to the black agriche. dion, who grew up emotionally repressed and touch starved wanted more after the first sign of genuine kindness from you. your saccharine words and honey-coated gesture at that moment were all it took for you to completely consume his mind.

as he leaned into one of your palms with his eyes closed, dion has decided. a sweet and gentle person like you is not suited for the harsh world outside, but as long as you stay by his side and continue showering him with your affection, he'll make sure that no harm will come to his little butterfly. if anyone tries to take you away from him, he won't stop at just cutting off the hand that dared to touch what's his; he'll torture them by giving them a slow, painful death.

he's never going to let you go. he'll make you stay in the agriche residence until the end of time, and if you're going to die, then die here in his arms.

JEREMY knew that he had to have you the moment he saw how aggressively cassis reacted to the sight of your unconscious self, bound and gagged beside him. by having you in his grasp, he has a means of provoking cassis and it also gives him a sense of control.

lante handed you over to jeremy when the latter expressed his interest in having you as his toy, and roxanne warned him to not do anything that will kill you if he doesn't want her toy to give her a hard time, seeing as cassis is attached to you for some reason. jeremy naturally listened to his sister, but he didn't expect to fall in love with you so quickly.

unlike the members of the black agriche, you're very sweet and your kindness isn't fake. the gentle attention you'd give him despite your unfavourable circumstances fed the touch starved jeremy, who only desires someone to love and care for him. he initially kept you so he'd have cassis on a leash, but now... he wants to keep you by his side to fill the void in his heart.

you were, of course, bewildered by his change in attitude at first. he would usually treat you as if you're less than dirt, so to suddenly be put on a pedestal by him felt a little strange. he still makes you wear the collar to prevent you from escaping, but he's kinder and tries to be gentle with you these days.

"hey (y/n), are you bored? i brought you some books that you might like!" jeremy exclaimed as he dumped a pile of books on the bed you're sitting on.

"oh, thank you..." you said, picking the romance novel at the top of the pile, "am i really allowed to read these books? what if you get in trouble by your father?"

"hmm... i won't," he began, plopping himself beside you on the bed, "because starting from today, you're my girlfriend."

just like that, you became the lover of jeremy agriche. lante had his reservations about a pedelian dating one of his children, but when you told him that you're merely a peasant rischel took pity on and decided to raise as one of his own (you had to lie about you being from a world where their lives are part of a novel), he changed his mind. since you're not officially affiliated with the blue pedelian, he can use you against the very family that took you under their wing and thus permitted you to be with jeremy.

jeremy was obviously overjoyed and immediately moved you to a lavish room. "that dingy prison cell doesn't suit an angel like you anyway!" he claimed. with roxanne's help, he was able to buy you an entire wardrobe of beautiful dresses and boxes of glimmering jewelries. him spoiling you overwhelmed you and made you suspect that he's after something, but when he eagerly ducked his head in front you, you realised that all he wants is a head pat for every single thing he does in an attempt to make you happy.

"i'm not asking for much. just love me, and i'll make sure you live comfortably here," he said, smiling happily when your hand gently caressed his head.

well, that's easy enough. jeremy is your favourite character in the manhwa, and since he's given you the green light, you'll take full advantage of it to shower him with affection. in return, he'll always be there to protect you and will even defend your mistakes.

when you kissed his cheek to thank him for catching you after you fell from a tree branch, he became addicted. he'd ask for sweet little kisses instead of head pats since then, as he finds them more fulfilling. a giddy feeling consumes him every time your lips brush against his cheek or forehead, and he soon begins to wonder what your lips would feel like on his...

"(y/n). have you ever kissed that blue son of a bitch before?" jeremy asked one day, making you choke on your own spit.

"no! of course not!" you replied, flustered by his question, "cassis is not someone i'd like to spend the rest of my life with."

he breathed a sigh of relief. "good. i'm the one you want to be with forever, right?" grinning, he leaned in and pressed his forehead against yours as you smiled.

as jeremy grew up, he became extremely possessive of you. he doesn't want you to show kindness to anyone but himself (roxanne is an exception), and if you expressed even the slightest interest in dion, he'll confront his half-brother and demand to know what he did to seduce you. depending on jeremy's mood, the confrontation will either end in blood or peace.

he gets jealous very easily and doesn't like it when other men lay their eyes on his sweet angel. he'll get angry if anyone so much dares to cast a dirty look your way because nobody disrespects you like that in his presence. you'll have to stop him by grabbing his arm and begging him to stay with you before he storms up to the unfortunate soul to give them a piece of his mind.

during the social event where the five families gather together, jeremy forbade you from attending any of the balls. instead, he made you stay with roxanne in her room to shield you from the prying eyes of other men and to also hide you from the blue pedelian. that didn't stop you from sneaking into the ballroom when roxanne wasn't looking though. you were not going to waste your only chance of getting a glimpse of the handsome male leads of "the flower of hell" after all!

however, you got caught hiding behind a potted plant by noel vertium, who was enamoured of you at first sight. jeremy spotted you just as noel was about to approach you, and he was able to reach you first. with a possessive grip around your waist, he pressed you against his chest and glared at noel, who soon got dragged away by his aide.

if you try to act cute with jeremy, he might just forgive you for disobeying him.

#loveletters—!#manhwa x reader #the way to protect the female lead's older brother #roxana #dion agriche #dion agriche x reader #jeremy agriche #jeremy agriche x reader #headcanons #fem reader

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ineffectualdemon · 1 year

Text

It's funny to me btw that Shen Qingqiu totally gets that by wearing Binghe's robe there is maybe some sort of implication or vibe that he a d Binghe had sex

That's why he gets all weird about it when Binghe offers and why he freaks out when Gongyi Xiao reacts to seeing him in the robe:

Under his stare, Shen Qingqiu found himself pulling the robe tighter over his chest

Done what? Luo Binghe had only thrown a tantrum and punched holes all over the place, collapsing half the cave. What's with that look in your eyes?!

SVSSS Vol 2 p 107

Even if he's denial he gets the implication as much as he tries to mental parkour away

But he never at any point understands that Gongyi Xiao reads it that Binghe sexually assaulted/raped him

Shen Qingqiu is clearly somewhat aware of the homoerotically charged nature of any encounter that he has with Binghe and even though he is so uncomfortable he engages in mental gymnastics so he never has to acknowledge it as his own thoughts or feelings....he at no point sees it as unwanted on his side

Also no matter how evil or manipulative he sees Binghe he again never thinks of him being a rapist and is later outraged that anyone else would put that on him

The only time he considers it a possibility is after he has acknowledged the gay feelings in the air and defaults into danmei tropes from his sister's books but even with that, even when he's fighting with Binghe because Binghe is supposedly forcing himself he's not seriously worried or in distress like we see him in other scenarios

I think Shen Qingqiu is just incapable of imagining a scene is where he wouldn't consent or where Binghe would seriously continue without his consent

It's just very interesting aspect of how he views Binghe

#svsss #shen qingqiu #luo binghe #bingqiu #svsss manga

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dccomicsimagines · 1 year

Text

One Day At A Time - Nightwing x Reader

Part Two

Author’s Note - Glad I finally got this one started. It was in my head for a long time. More parts are coming.

Voices were the first thing you recalled. They were different tones, some feminine, others masculine. Screams echoed from somewhere far away. Beeps sounded near your head.

You couldn’t open your eyes. Your eyelids had been replaced by stones. “Is she going to wake up soon?” one of the voices demanded. You recognized it as you heard it often.

“She can wake up at anytime.” This voice was recognizable as well. It gave orders a lot. “We will just have to wait.” Footsteps echoed and a door closed. You wondered if they were talking about you. Were you asleep? It was hard to tell.

There was scraping of a chair. Suddenly, someone grabbed your hand. They cradled it in theirs. Lips pressed to the back of your hand. “I miss you, sweetheart,” the voice you heard most often spoke. Sweetheart? You felt confused. No one had called you that before. “Please wake up soon.” Something wet dripped onto your hand.

Disgusting. You couldn’t pull your hand away. It was like your blood had been replaced with sand, holding you down. You endured it. The voice rambled on and on about things. You stopped listening and let yourself drift back into bliss of darkness.

***

Slowly, rising from the darkness and into the fresh air, you finally dragged your eyes opened. The light was bright. You closed them again, reaching up to rub them.

Your eyes adjusted to reveal a white hospital room with flowers everywhere. The ones next to your bedside were your favorite. Those were the same ones your brother would get for your birthday every year. A smile pulled at your lips. You glanced down at yourself, the paper hospital gown scratching your skin. There were heart monitors stuck to your chest and stomach. Odd.

An IV was in your arm. You pulled at it gently, shivering from the idea of it in your arm. Biting your lip, you tried to remember how you got here. The last thing you remembered was being at gymnastic practice. It was after hours and you were breaking the rules by attempting Olga Korbut’s uneven bars routine from the 1972 Olympics. Most of those moves were illegal now days, but you wanted to try just for fun.

The last thing you remembered was preparing for your dismount from the high bar when your brother, Wally West, and your coach walking in. They startled you and you fell hard. You frowned. Was that what happened? Did you end up in the hospital?

You pulled the covers around you. Where were those voices you heard before? The man’s voice. The one who held your hand. You wondered who he was? Rubbing your hands up and down your arms, you froze when you felt metal on one of your fingers. You glanced down to find a beautiful ring.

It was a contoured design, two rings fitted into one. You remembered Aunt Iris had one like that. Her engagement ring and wedding ring were made into one. Why would you have a ring like that? You were only nineteen and you don’t remember anyone giving a ring like this to you.

The door to your room opened. You looked up eagerly, hoping to see your family. However, there was only a strange man. He stared at you, eyes wide with a cup of coffee in his hand. His hair was dark, shaggy and falling into his bright blue eyes. You had to admit he was attractive and fit, even if it looked like he hadn’t slept in a week.

The coffee cup dropped from his hand and splashed on the floor. You jumped only to find the man suddenly hugging you and pressing his lips against yours. Your mind shut off. You didn’t move, unsure what to do. Should you scream? Were you being attacked?

“Oh thank god, you’re awake. I thought you would never wake up.” The man sobbed, breaking the kiss to bury his face into your shoulder. His voice triggered your memory. He was the one who held your hand.

You didn’t know what to do. Your brain was on autopilot as you patted his back. Maybe he was mentally disturbed and thought you were someone else? You noticed the call button by the bedside and tried to reach for it.

“Woah, hey.” The man pulled away, grinning despite the tears in his eyes. “You feel okay? Anything hurt? Should I get the doctor?”

You opened your mouth to speak only for it to be dry. Wetting your mouth, you cleared your throat. “I’m fine.” You looked him in the eye for a second before quickly looking at the flowers across the room. Your eye caught a bag sitting on the chair in the corner.

“I think my heart finally restarted. It stopped when you took that fall.” The man laughed. You looked back at him to find him studying you like you were the most precious thing on earth. It sent a warning shiver down your spine.

You quickly looked away, eyeing the coffee spill on the floor. “Is Wally here?”

You bit your lip nervously when the man’s smile faltered slightly. “He...doesn’t know you’re here.” The man took your hand, rubbing warmth into it.

“What?!” You blinked, heart skipping a beat. Oh god, did this man kidnap you? Were you even in a hospital or did it just look like one? Where was Wally? Where was your family?

The man played with the ring on your finger. He frowned slightly with concern in his eyes. “Sweetheart, you know he doesn’t approve of us. He won’t answer my calls, even when you got hurt, but we don’t need to worry about him. We got each other and our family. That’s what matters, right?” He ran his other hand through your hair.

Your blood ran ice cold. You had to escape. Clearly, this man kidnapped you and was mentally insane. Why did he act like you were in a relationship with him? Thoughts about all those old stalker movies filled your mind.

“Hey, you okay?” The man cupped your cheek. “Calm down. You’re fine. Everything’s okay.”

You forced a smile on your face to try to reassure him. Get him out of the room. You could escape then. “I just have a headache.” You rubbed your temple. Your chest tightened when his hand moved to rest over yours.

“Let me grab the doctor.” He leaned down to kiss you again. You turned your head, disgusted. His lips caught your cheek instead of your lips. The man frowned, but got up. “I’ll be right back, okay?” He left the room and firmly shut the door behind him.

Once he was gone, you got to your feet. Sharp pain shot through them, but you just gasped and stayed standing. You removed the IV and the heart monitors carefully before going to the bag in the corner. There were clothes inside. You ripped off the paper gown and changed into the sweatpants and sweatshirt inside. The clothes were too big, but you tightened the pants to fit you. There were no shoes, so you made do with a pair of socks.

Panic set in when you heard noise outside the door. You rushed to the window in the room. Outside was a city you didn’t recognize it. Scared beyond belief, you opened the window. The rays of the late morning sun hit your skin. Your room was two stories up, but you noticed a gutter drain nearby.

With somewhat ease, you climbed out and down the gutter drain. Once you were a few feet from the ground, you dropped. Almost landing on your feet, you toppled to your knees. Your center of gravity was off. Did you gain weight while you were kidnapped? You shook your head, getting to your feet.

“(Y/N)!” The man shouted. You spun to see him leaning out of the window with another dark haired man with him.

“No.” Adrenaline fueled you and you sprinted off. You were fast, but you were no speedster. Traffic was heavy in the street, but you ran out without a care, jumping over the hood of a car that slammed on their brakes to avoid you.

You glanced back to see the man already on the ground. Panting, you ran faster down the street, dodging people as you went. You had to break the line of sight. A child ran out in front of you. You jumped, using a light post as leverage to send yourself flying into an alleyway.

“(Y/N)!” The man was gaining on you as you fell hard on your knees again. The wind knocked out of you. Rage filled you. Why was your center of balance off? You could have landed that in your sleep. However, you got to your feet and kept running.

Turning several corners, you saw a coffee shop filled with people. You burst through the door, the bell ringing loudly. People stared at you like you were insane. Maybe you did look it, but you had a good reason. “Can I borrow a phone?” you panted, searching the room for a friendly soul.

“Here, honey,” a middle aged woman said, handing you a phone.

“Thank you.” You glanced behind you in a panic and ducked into the hallway that led to the bathrooms. The phone shook in your hand. Every part of your body ached, completely weakened by the run as adrenaline drained into all out terror.

Air was being squeezed out of your lungs, coming out in ragged gasps. Black swarmed your vision, but you blinked it away. The bell on the door to the shop rang. You slipped into the ladies' room and slid to the floor by the sink.

Knees pressed to your chest, you dialed the one number you knew by heart. “Please pick up, please pick up.” The man’s voice sounded outside, asking about you.

“Hello?” You sighed in relief, knowing his voice instantly.

“Wally?” Your voice cracked. Tears filled your eyes. “Please help me. Walls, please help me.”

“(Y/N)?” Wally seemed shocked. “What’s wrong?” His voice deepened into that tone he used when he was Kid Flash.

You crawled into one of the stalls when you heard someone tell the man that you went to the restroom. Reaching up to lock the stall, you got up to stand on the toilet to hide. You had to lean against the wall to stay upright. “There’s a man chasing me. He kidnapped me, but I escaped.” You held your breath when the bathroom door opened. “He’s here. Please help me.” Your voice dropped to a whisper.

“(Y/N), sweetheart, I don’t know what’s going on, but you need to come with me,” the man said loudly. He opened one of the stalls. You pressed your hand against your mouth to prevent a scream.

“I’ll be there in a flash. Where are you?” Wally’s voice sounded distant. He was already on the move.

The next stall opened. You whimpered softly into the phone. The bathroom fell silent until the door to your stall shook. You choked out a sob, losing your balance. Your foot went into the toilet, but you caught yourself. However, the phone slipped out of your hand and clattered to the floor.

The man kneeled in front of the door. “(Y/N), sweetheart, please tell me what’s going on. You’re scaring me.”

“Please leave me alone. I just want to go home,” you begged, ignoring your wet sock as you climbed higher on the toilet in case the man crawled under.

“We can go home, but I need you to calm down.” The man peeked under the door. You screamed, fresh tears bursting out of you. Suddenly, a loud gust sounded in the room and the man disappeared from the door. “Wally? What are you doing here?”

“What are you doing?! (Y/N) called me saying she’s been kidnapped and a man is chasing her,” your brother’s voice said. You relaxed slightly, suddenly concerned that Wally seemed to know the man. “And now I searched the city only to find you chasing her!”

The man gasped. “She said what?!”

The door of your stall shook again. “(Y/N), come out. I think you’re confused,” Wally said. You slowly climbed down from the toilet and opened the door. Wally stood there in a Flash suit. Strange, wasn’t he Kid Flash? You ignored it and hopped into his arms.

Wally held you tight. “Please get me out of here, Walls. Keep him away from me.” You clung to Wally like he was your lifeline.

“What the hell is going on?!” The man stepped forward. You broke out of Wally’s arms to hide behind him, watching the man as he stared at you with his brow furrowed. “(Y/N), sweetheart, I’m Dick. Your husband.” He pointed to his chest.

“I can’t be married!” You gripped Wally’s arms with a death grip.

Wally’s head snapped between you and the man. “Wait a minute.” He pressed a hand to the man’s, now Dick’s, chest to stop him from coming closer. Wally spun to you and gripped your shoulders. His green eyes bore into yours. “(Y/N), what year is it?”

You frowned, blinking. Your lips trembled. Wally never talked to you like this before. “2020.”

Dick’s jaw dropped. His hand slapped against his forehead. Wally stared at you with fear in his eyes. “(Y/N), honey, it’s 2023. You’re not nineteen, you’re twenty two,” Wally said calmly. He swallowed hard and nodded to Dick. “This is Dick Grayson. You married him a year ago. Without my permission, I might add.”

Your eyes snapped to Dick’s. “No...” Your knees collapsed. Wally caught you before you hit the floor. Dick’s hands clenched into fists, keeping his distance from you. Black swarmed your vision again. You blinked it away as Wally cradled you in his arms.

“This is too public.” The other dark haired man you saw in the window with Dick entered, glancing around nervously. “Get her out of here.” Wally picked you up and zoomed off. Sometime along the way, you fainted.

***

You woke on a soft bed with an older man hovering nearby. He smiled when he saw you open your eyes. The lights were dim in whatever room you were in. In the distance, you swore you heard bats screeching.

“Hello, Miss (Y/N).” He patted your arm. “Do you remember me?”

You studied him, but shook your head. He wasn’t a threat, because you didn’t even tense when you saw him.

The man smiled gently. “I am Alfred.” He held up his hands. “Is it alright if I examine your head?”

You nodded. A lump was in your throat, memories floating back to you. Alfred carefully ran his hands over your head, feeling for any bumps. You winced when he touch a spot toward the back of your head. “It hurts there.”

Alfred hummed. “I see.” He pulled away. “I am going to alert the others that you are awake.” You tensed, scared to find out what else you didn’t remember. Three years. You were missing three years. “Don’t worry, Miss (Y/N). It will be a calm discussion. We only want to figure out what is going on.” He patted your knee and left the area.

You pulled the sheet up and around you. Your fingers rested on the edge of the sheet, the ring on your wedding finger sparkling beautifully. How could you forget something so important? You must have loved Dick, right? You snorted. What a name. You hoped it was short for Richard.

Wally came in first. He smiled in relief, coming to your side. “Hey, glad you’re awake, sis. You gave me a heart attack when you fainted on me.” He sat on the edge of your bed.

Dick followed him. He started toward you, but stopped and moved to lean against the far wall. The other dark haired man from before entered and took a seat on the chair at the end of the bed.

“Here we go, Miss (Y/N). You should at least drink something,” Alfred said, appearing with a cup of steaming tea. You took it from him, giving him a timid smile in thanks. “I’ll bring a meal in a bit. Remember we are going to proceed calmly.” Alfred glared at the three men in the room. You liked him already.

“Let’s start from the beginning. What the last thing you remember, (Y/N)?” The dark haired man asked, leaning forward and studying you with an intense gaze, your hands began to shake with nerves. Alfred smacked his arm as he passed and the man’s gaze softened.

You took a sip of tea, gathering your thoughts. Sneaking a peek at Dick, you saw the pain in his eyes. “I remember being at gymnastic practice at Central City U. Everyone had left and I stayed to see if I could do Olga Korbut’s uneven bars routine from the 1972 Olympics. Oh my god, Walls, you remember how much I loved her routine. She was moving like an angel.” You grinned, feeling relaxed for the first time since you woke up to find everything strange and unfamiliar. A small smile pulled at Dick’s lips. You wondered if he liked gymnastics too.

“And you fell after I and your coach caught you in the middle of a high bar dismount.” Wally sighed, crossing his arms. “You hit your head, but you were fine afterwards.”

“I don’t remember that.” You bit your lip, holding the cup of tea tightly. “I just remember falling and then I woke up in the hospital with...Dick.” You met Dick’s eye. His smile fell into a firm line.

The dark haired man hummed. “You remember nothing else?”

You leaned into Wally. He wrapped his arm around you. “Just stuff before. Like growing up at home then living with Aunt Iris and Uncle Barry in Central City when Mom and Dad were having problems. Graduating high school, going to college on a gymnastic scholarship.” You looked at Wally. “Did I finish college? Please tell me I did.”

Wally chuckled. “You did. With top honors.” He kissed your temple. “Of course, then you ran off with Dick afterwards.” Wally glared over at Dick. Dick snorted. You glanced between the men, confused.

“Was I not supposed to?” You bit your lip when Dick burst out laughing suddenly. Wally narrowed his eyes at you.

“No, you weren’t. He’s older than you and was one of my best friends.” Wally pulled away from you, crossing his arms. “I made a mistake and invited him to my engagement party after working so hard to keep you away from this life, then all of a sudden, you married him.”

You looked at Dick, knowing you must have loved him quite a bit to piss Wally off so bad. “Enough.” The dark haired man got to his feet. “We need to focus on what’s important.”

“Bruce, we are focusing on what’s important,” Dick said after he stopped laughing. “(Y/N) might remember if we remind her.” He smiled at you with a charm that made your skin tingle. Maybe there was something there?

The dark haired man, now Bruce, shook his head. “No, there is something going on here. Don’t you think it’s strange that (Y/N) happened to forget about you? Three years is specific.” Bruce pointed a finger at Dick’s chest. “It’s very specific that the last thing she remembers happened the day before you met her at West’s engagement party.”

Dick sobered. “Are you suggesting someone erased me from (Y/N)’s memory? Who could even do that?”

Wally took the cup of tea from you when your hands started shaking so hard that it threatened to slosh out. “It’s okay,” Wally soothed, rubbing your back. “You’re fine, we’ll figure this out, okay?”

“Don’t you think it’s odd that a day after you two announced your pregnancy that (Y/N) takes a fall during patrol and forgets about you?” Bruce said, waving his hand in the air. “We need to open an investigation.”

Your blood drained out of your face. Pregnancy? You looked down at your stomach with wide eyes. Heart monitors on your stomach, the loss of your center of balance? Wally was staring at your stomach too. His face white as a sheet.

“Shit, Bruce. Just let the cat out of the bag, huh?” Dick rushed to your side. He hesitated before taking your hand. “(Y/N), sweetheart. Don’t freak out. You’re fine, the baby’s fine.”

“Baby?” You looked at him, chest tightening. Breathing became a struggle. Every muscle in your body tensed, trembling. “No, no, no, no. I can’t...I don’t remember anything.” Your cheeks felt wet, tears escaping.

Suddenly, you were in Dick’s arms with your head pressed against his chest. “Breathe with me, sweetheart. One breath at a time.” His calm heartbeat loud in your ear. You fought to slow down, trying to breathe in rhythm with him. Wally disappeared from your side. Your hand clutched at Dick’s shirt. He tightened his arms around you. “There you go. You’re doing such a good job, sweetheart. Nothing to freak out about. We’re taking care of it.”

You buried your face into his chest, breathing in his scent. He smelled of sweat, cologne, and laundry detergent. Your abdomen tingled as if your body remember that scent. You found you liked it.

“I’m heading out. Call me if there is an emergency,” Wally said. You looked up at him, eyes widening. Wally wouldn’t look at you and Dick, arms crossed. “I’ll let Mom know you’re okay.” With that, he zoomed off.

“But...” You blinked, your heart felt like it was ripped from your chest. “Why?” You looked at Dick. Dick smiled sadly at you.

He kissed your temple. “I’ll explain later.” Dick kept his arms around you as you sobbed. You buried your face into his chest, feeling so cold and alone. Your head ached as you tried to remember. How could you not remember getting pregnant or getting married? Why did Wally abandon you with these strangers that weren’t strangers, but were? Dick’s chin rested on the top of your head, not saying a word.

***

Dick stumbled out of medbay, exhausted and heartbroken. The bats screeched in the distance. The cool air in the cave made him shiver. You had cried yourself to sleep. Dick wished he could have comforted you, but he didn’t know how. What do you do when your wife doesn’t remember even meeting you?

Bruce was at the computer, working away on the theory he had throw out in front of you. Dick’s hand clenched into a fist. It was bad enough you were recovering from the news that you forgotten three years of your life and your husband, but to find out you’re pregnant and that someone may have erased your memory. No wonder you broke down.

Dick turned away from Bruce and headed up the stairs to the manor, needing distance. The absolute terror in your face when you looked at him in that coffee shop bathroom haunted him. He never wanted to see that expression on your face again.

Delicious smells came from the kitchen, drawing Dick toward it. His stomach growled. The last time he ate was that sandwich Alfred had brought him in the hospital. Dick ran his fingers through his hair. Was that a day ago? Time went by so fast after you woke up.

“Hey, Dick,” Tim said as Dick entered the kitchen. Alfred was over the stove, stirring a pot of what looked to be his special chicken noodle soup. Tim sat at the counter with a sandwich and a bowl of soup.

“Hi, Timmy.” Dick collapsed into the stool next to Tim and took half of the sandwich from his plate.

Tim watched him worriedly. “So how’s (Y/N)?”

Dick took a big bite of the sandwich. “Not great.” He mumbled with food in his mouth. Alfred turned to glare at Dick before going back to the stove. A jolt ran through Dick. Dick waited until he swallowed to continue. “She just cried herself to sleep in my arms. Bruce let slip that she’s pregnant, then Wally got all mad again and ran off.” Alfred poured another bowl of soup and set it in front of Dick. “I’m worried what the stress is doing to her and the baby.”

“This is why I suggested a calm discussion.” Alfred set a spoon next to Dick’s bowl. “Is she asleep?”

“Yeah.” Dick finished his sandwich and started on the soup. His eyes caught the ring on his finger. The one you had specially made for him. His heart broke once again.

“Well, I’ll prepare a tray and take it down. She needs to eat.” Alfred moved to grab a serving tray.

Tim eyed Dick and Alfred. “So it’s true then?”

“What’s true?” Dick glanced at Tim, frowning at how pale he was.

“(Y/N) doesn’t remember you or us or...anything?” Tim swallowed hard. The food in front of him forgotten.

Dick took another spoonful of soup, pushing away the urge to cry. “No, she doesn’t.” He froze, noting the shifting shadow by the kitchen door. “Damian, come on out.”

“TT.” Damian stepped out and came over to sit beside Dick. Alfred raised an eyebrow and quickly served Damian a bowl of soup too. “Can I see her?”

“Let’s give Miss (Y/N) space for now.” Alfred picked up the serving tray. “I’ll bring this down to her.” He left the room.

The three ate in silence. Dick slipped into his own thoughts, your face flashing before his eyes again. He dropped his spoon and buried his face in his hands. “It’s probably not permanent,” Tim said, biting his lip.

“Or it is.” Dick groaned, dropping his hands. “Do you know how it felt to see her so scared? She climbed out the hospital window and ran out into the street. Then she called Wally. Wally! They haven’t spoken in a year.”

Tim laid a hand on Dick’s shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

Dick glanced at Tim. “Why are you sorry? You didn’t do anything, Tim.”

“No, but I’m sorry just the same.” Tim pulled away to play with his spoon.

“TT.” Damian jumped off his stool and took his bowl to the sink.

Dick watched him. “Damian, you okay?” It helped to focus on something else. He’d rather comfort his brother than deal with his own emotions at the moment.

Damian spun and glared at him. “You are weak.” Dick and Tim flinched. Damian shook his head. “You are just giving up. If (Y/N) doesn’t remember you, then make her remember you.”

“It’s not that simple, Dami.” Dick got to his feet and came to kneel in front of Damian. “This isn’t something you can just fix.” He rested his hands on Damian’s shoulders.

“TT, then you take it one day at a time until (Y/N) remembers everything you had, everything we all had.” Damian jerked out of Dick’s grip and walked away. “Fool.”

Dick stayed on his knees. His body froze, shocked to his core. “So you’re saying I get (Y/N) to fall in love with me again?” He turned to look at Tim, who was nodding. “That’s not going to work. I don’t know how we did, it just happened.”

“You mean you don’t have any idea how you fell in love with (Y/N)? Come on, that’s not true.” Tim chuckled, getting to his feet and started to clean up the dishes. “You told me how you saw her from across the room and basically drew to her like a starving man to bread.”

“I didn’t say that.” Dick got to his feet and started to wash the dishes. Tim grabbed a towel to dry.

“Yeah, you did. It might have been after your wedding night and you were half asleep, but you did.” Tim smirked. “(Y/N) said you drank too much, but then Jason made that crude comment and you whaled on him.”

“Okay, I remember that. (Y/N) made me sleep on the couch until our honeymoon.” Dick felt a smile pulled at his lips. It felt wrong. Why should he be smiling when he lost the love of his life?

Tim laughed. “I didn’t know that part.” He dried a bowl and put it away. “I think if you help (Y/N) relive those moments, it might spark her memory.” Tim shrugged. “Unless Bruce’s theory is right.”

Dick choked, dropping a dish into the sink. “I pray he’s not. Who would do such a thing?” He grabbed another dish towel to dry his hands, shaking.

“Don’t think about that now.” Tim grabbed Dick’s arm. “Calm down.”

“How can I be calm, Tim?! My wife doesn’t remember me at all!” Dick threw his hands up in the air.

“Quiet.” Dick turned to see Cass staring at him, silently appearing like she always did. He should have heard her. Suddenly, her hand shot out and Dick fell limp to the ground.

“Cheap trick.” Dick mumbled, his cheek rested on the floor. HIs body paralyzed from the nerve strike.

Tim knelt down next to Dick’s head. Dick felt Tim’s thin fingers checking his pulse. “Little much, Cass, don’t ya think?”

“He needed rest. No sleep for days. Sloppy.” Cass grabbed Dick’s arm and pulled him up. Tim grabbed Dick’s other arm and they drag him out of the kitchen.

Dick closed his eyes, letting the darkness of sleep take him. The last thing he remember was being flopped down onto a couch.

***

You leaned against headrest, keeping your eyes on the city outside. “So we live in Gotham?” The car was clean and smelled like mint from the bat shaped car refresher.

“Well, no.” Dick cleared his throat, keeping one hand on the wheel while rubbing the yellowing bruise on his neck. You asked him about it, he just said it was what he needed. Whatever that meant. “We live in one of the suburbs between Gotham and Bludhaven.” He glanced over at you somewhat nervously. “Bruce bought us a house for our wedding gift. Decked it out with everything, even added a secret tunnel that would take us straight into Gotham or Bludhaven in minutes.”

“And Bruce is your adoptive father and Batman.” You frowned, playing with the sleeves of the sweatshirt you were wearing. Apparently, it was yours, but you don’t remember seeing it before. You sighed. It was a common occurrence nowadays. “Damian, Tim, Cass, and Jason are your siblings. Tim, Cass, and Jason are adopted while Damian is Bruce’s biological son.”

Dick nodded. A smile pulled at his lips. “Yeah, that’s right.” He glanced over at you. You met his eye. It sent a pleasant shiver down your spine. Over the last few days, you noticed you were feeling those shivers more and more. You played with your wedding ring, unable to take it off. It felt wrong to remove it.

“You’re Nightwing and I’m...” It was on the tip of your tongue.

“Redwing. Red from the Flash and wing from me,” Dick said after several seconds of silence. “You didn’t go out too often. Mostly to help me out if I needed backup.”

“And we both run a trapeze and gymnastics school?” You folded your arms across your chest. Your heart glowed with joy at having your dream job of teaching gymnastics.

Dick nodded. “And dance and boxing.” He looked back at the road. “We added those recently, wanting to reach out to more kids.”

Your eyes fell to the ring on his finger. “Did I give you that ring?”

“You did.” Dick’s hand left the wheel and was held out in front of you. You took it, feeling the calluses that were very similar to yours. The ring was a dark gray metal with no scratches or marks. “You had Superman make it out of some kind of Kryptonian metal, so it doesn’t wear or tear.”

Tracing the ring, you frowned. You tried to remember, pushing your brain until a headache blossomed in your temple. “I’m sorry.” You let go of his hand and turned away to look out the window.

“You don’t have to be sorry.” Dick rested his hand on your knee. You tensed. Dick flinched his hand away. “Sorry.” He bit his lip. “It’s okay, sweetheart. We’re figuring this out. One day at a time.”

Tears filled your eyes. He had been saying that a lot over the last few days. One day at a time. Like that was supposed to help you get three years back. “Are Iris and Barry really gone?”

“Yes, I don’t understand it all myself.” He looked at you as if you were going to break into pieces. “Apparently, they got sent to the future. Wally’s the Flash now.”

“Wally married Linda and had two kids who I’ve haven’t seen in a year because Wally hates that we’re together.” You took a deep breath. “Mom remarried after Dad disappeared and now lives in Europe. She agrees with Wally. Not surprising. She always liked him more.”

“That’s not true.” Dick drove down a street of very nice houses. Suddenly, he turned into a driveway of a beautiful huge white house. It was surrounded by trees, offering privacy from the neighbors. “Here we are.”

Your jaw dropped. “This is the house?” You quickly got out of the car to get a better look at it. Dick followed you.

“You like it?” He came to your side.

“Yeah, I just didn’t expect something so...large.” You walked ahead to the front door and took out a key from under the mat. It didn’t occur to you until the key was in your hand that your body must have remembered the motion. You looked back at Dick to find him staring at you with hopeful eyes. A lump formed in your throat.

“Go on in, sweetheart. I’ll get the car in the garage.” Dick climbed back into the car and opened the garage door. You pushed open the door and walked into the quiet, dark house. A motion sensor light clicked on along with a soft alarm. Your heart stopped.

Dick suddenly ran in behind you. “Sorry, forgot about that.” He typed in a code into the box in the corner by the door. A sensor popped out and Dick widened his eyes for it to scan his retinas. “There you go.” He turned back to you and started to lean forward, but stopped when you backed away. His face fell. “Don’t worry. It’s just our security system.” With that, he went back out the door to the car.

You watched him go. Blood rushed to your face when you realized you were looking at his butt. You covered your eyes, telling yourself that he was your husband and you probably could look at his butt. However, the embarrassment didn’t go away. It was a very nice ass though.

Slowly, you wandered through a beautifully decorated living room and dining room, stopping to study the pictures on the walls. There were a few of you as a child, along with you assumed were Dick’s childhood photos. You stopped at a picture of you and Wally as kids. Both of you were in swim suits with the blow up pool behind you. Wally’s arms were around you, both of you grinning as your mom snapped the picture.

Tears filled your eyes again, but you pushed them away. You had enough of crying for one day.

You explored the rest of the ground floor, finding the kitchen, pantry, office and a bathroom. It was so beautiful that you felt out of place. This was something you always dreamed about. Your own home, a place where you always belonged. You went upstairs. Another bathroom and three bedrooms. Two were empty, one made up into a guest bedroom. At the end of the hall, there were double doors. You swallowed hard and opened them.

The master bedroom was decorated by you. That you recognized right away. It very close to the bedrooms you designed as a teen when you couldn’t sleep after gymnastic practice. You would cut out photos from home magazines and print out pictures from the internet to paste together a mock room design for your dream home.

The bed looked so comfortable, you went over and laid down on it. It was as soft as you liked it. The comforter and sheets smooth on your skin. You stared up at the ceiling. Your dreams really came true, didn’t they? Maybe this was some form of karma. You got what you always wanted, but now you can’t remember the pieces that made it all happen.

“Hey, you found our room,” Dick said, coming in with the bags. You recognized one of the bags as the one you stole clothes from at the hospital. He set the bags on the armchair in the corner. “You picked everything out in here, I was just along for the ride.”

“So we’re both sleeping here?” You asked, stomach twisting with nerves. Dear god, it felt like you were about to have your wedding night with this man.

Dick paused, smile faltering. “No, I’ll be in the guest room.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t want to rush things for you. It wouldn’t be healthy for you or the baby.”

Your hand went to your stomach. There was a slight bump, which you only noticed after you found out you were pregnant. Dick’s eyes watched your hand. “Right, sure.” You got up from the bed and wandered toward the door in the corner. It led to a master bathroom with a walk in shower and giant tub in the corner. “Bruce really went all out, huh?”

“Yeah, he did.” Dick followed you, leaning against the doorframe as you peeked into the shower. “You told him about the house you dreamed about as a child and he made it for you and me.”

“I told him about it? But I never told anyone about it. Not even Wally.” You spun to look at Dick. That pleasant shiver went up your spine as he smiled at you. His eyes sparkling with what seemed to be love.

“You told me on the night we met. It was after Wally and Linda’s engagement party. Everyone was passed out drunk or left. You and I stayed to clean while Wally took care of Linda. We got to talking and I offered to take you out for breakfast at three am.” Dick sighed. “We talked until seven am, telling each other everything.”

You blinked. “Everything?” Your eye caught the photo on the wall. It was of you and Dick standing in front of the Golden Gate bridge. The two of you gazed into each other’s eyes, foreheads pressed together. “Like this? Is this our honeymoon?”

“No, that was a trip we took the summer after we met.” Dick came to your side. He kept a safe distance between you and him. “We were keeping our relationship a secret. Linda and Wally’s wedding was a month later and we didn’t want to cause trouble.”

You hummed, noting how happy you were in the photo. “I wish I remembered.” Dick hesitated before gently reaching over to rub your shoulder. You forced yourself not to tense. His touch felt nice, warm.

“You will, but for now, I’ll remind you.” Dick smiled. His pain was almost hidden, but you could see it in his eyes. He took your hand. The contact alone made you want to cry. Dick tugged you. “Come on, let me show you the basement.”

“That’s not creepy at all.” You laughed halfheartedly, letting Dick lead you down the stairs to a part of a wall with a framed poster of the Flying Graysons on it. “Is it hidden for a reason?”

Dick winked at you. A jolt ran through your abdomen. “Remember that tunnel I told you about? Well, we don’t want that out in the open.” He touched the side of a frame and a fingerprint scanner popped out. “Always use your thumb.” He pressed his thumb and it dinged. The wall swung open revealing a staircase. “It scans you as you walk. If it doesn’t recognize you, the alarms go off and you’ll get sealed in the stairwell.”

“So this is like the safe room then?” You went in first, scared but comforted by the fact Dick was right behind you.

“Yeah, this would be the place to go if we have a situation like that. Of course, they’d have to try to get into the house first. I’ll show you how to lock down the house too.” Dick slipped around you once you reached the bottom of the stairs and wrapped his arm around your shoulders. The weight of his arm felt right. “What do you think?”

It was a huge underground base with big computer on one side. Costume displays were build into the wall. Three motorcycles and one military looking car sat at the far end. You pulled away from Dick to look at the workout area. There was a lot of equipment, but the only thing you focused on was the uneven bars.

You broke into a run toward the uneven bars and glide kipped onto the lower bar before doing a flip to the high bar. “Careful,” Dick chuckled, leaning against one of the punching bags nearby. “Your balance is off because of the baby.”

“Right.” You did a few backward giants before slipping into a few piked Stalders. A laugh escaped you. You couldn’t even begin to describe the joy you had. Your body ached for this.

You did a tucked Jaeger release before flipping down the lower bar. It felt unsteady, but you quickly adjusted to your change in weight. You did a toe-on release back to the high bar. Gaining momentum with a few more backward giants, you did a layout Jaeger release. Your grip slipped slightly, but you held on with one hand.

A scream slipped out when you tried to gain control. Suddenly, arms wrapped around your waist and you were pulled down from the bar. “It’s okay, I got you.” Dick pressed you against his chest until your feet were on the floor.

“I should have chalked first.” You bit your lip, face burning. Dick’s arms stayed around you. The walls felt like they were closing in. Reality sunk your stomach to the floor. Who were you if you couldn’t remember?

“You were amazing.” Dick started to lean forward, but froze when you pulled away from him. You avoided his gaze.

“Right.” Hot tears filled your eyes, out of your control. “I’m tired. I’ll go lay down for a while.” You walked away briskly, head down.

Dick sighed loudly behind you. “Okay, I’ll wake you for dinner.” You glanced back at him to give him a quick nod before disappearing up the stairs.

***

“I don’t know what to do. She doesn’t get up from bed and only eats what I bring her.” Dick stood up from the kitchen table and poured himself another cup of coffee. “I thought coming home would help spark her memory or at the very least cheer her up, but she’s depressed.”

Alfred hummed and sipped his tea. He settled back in his seat at the table in your kitchen. You were upstairs, still in bed despite it being two in the afternoon. “Well, that is not healthy.”

“No, it’s not. I’m scared for her and the baby.” Dick sank back into his seat. “I don’t know what to do, Alfred.”

“Have you tried talking to Mr. West again? Perhaps Miss (Y/N) needs someone familiar around?” Alfred crossed his arms, pursing his lips.

“Wally won’t answer my calls. I tried calling him, but he won’t pick up.” Dick ran a hand through his hair. “I called with her phone to see if he would pick up for (Y/N), but nothing. Her mother is not answering either, which isn’t a surprise. I debated calling Bart Allen or Jesse Chambers or even Jay Garrick, but I don’t know if it would be a comfort to her. She wasn’t very close to them.”

“I swear that man and his mother are almost as stubborn as Master Bruce.” Alfred stood up and moved around the kitchen. “Did Miss (Y/N) have any cravings?”

Dick smiled halfheartedly as Alfred looked through the cabinets. “Well, not recently, but before everything, she was dying for pot stickers and refried beans. We had them every night for two weeks.”

Alfred shook his head. “I suppose we can add a salad on the side.” He started to cook, gesturing for Dick to get out. “Now I need you to come up with a plan to get Miss (Y/N) out of bed. It’s best that we don’t have to force her out.”

“Right.” Dick sipped at his coffee and left the kitchen. He racked his brain. There had to be a way to get you out of bed on your own. He was a fool for expecting Alfred to come over and magically fix everything. Dick smiled. However, if he figured out a way to get you up, Alfred’s food would probably keep you up. It was going to be way better than the food Dick had made for you the last few days.

Dick wandered upstairs and stopped outside an empty bedroom. This was the room you planned for the baby. Nothing was in it yet. In fact, it wasn’t even painted. Suddenly, a lightbulb went off in Dick’s head. After all, you were still you, even if you didn’t remember the last three years.

***

“Oops.” You jerked awake, sitting up in bed. Your eyes felt sticky, your body more tired than you ever felt before. The master bedroom was empty, but the doors to the rest of the house was open. “Damn, which color was it supposed to be again?”

It was Dick’s voice. You frowned. Curiosity tickled you. You felt the urge to get up and see what he was doing. Honestly, you were waiting for something to happen. Wallowing in self pity and sorrow only seemed worthwhile for so long.

You pulled back the covers and got to your feet. The pajamas you wore were a little tight around your stomach, the baby bump revealing itself. You still couldn’t believe you were pregnant and married. How do you forget something so important? It was like you were living someone else’s life.

“It couldn’t be black, could it?” Dick’s voice echoed down the hall. Your heart jolted. Why did you have a sense of dread?

You went down the hall, not caring that you were walking around in pajamas and bed hair. Dick was in one of the empty bedrooms surrounded by boxes and paint cans. He was holding up paint sample cards to the wall, clearly deep in thought. “What are you doing?” you asked.

He flinched, dropping his sample cards. “(Y/N)? Oh, good. I was thinking of painting this bedroom. We were going to make this the baby’s room, but white walls are just so boring. I was trying find a color that matches those decorations.” He nodded to the boxes.

You knelt down to look through the box, getting curiouser by the minute. Inside was a ton of baby decorations, all circus themed. “Wait, you were thinking black for the walls?” You looked up at him in disbelief. Your eye caught the black paint sample on the floor. “Black? For a baby’s room?”

“Yeah, it would really bring out the circus theme.” Dick’s eyes were wide with innocence. You swore you saw a hint of a smirk on his lips.

“No, that’s not happening.” You got to your feet and took the paint samples from him. “I mean what are you thinking?”

“I don’t know. This is more your thing.” Dick shrugged as you tossed the black sample over your shoulder while keeping the others. You held them against the wall and glanced back at the decorations in the box. “I think we should go with this blue.” You handed him the right sample.

Dick grinned. “Yeah, I can see it now.” He came up behind you and held the paint sample to the wall. “I’ll go buy the paint.” You shivered, feeling his breath against your neck.

“Miss (Y/N), Master Dick, dinner is served.” Alfred appeared in the doorway. You crossed your arms.

“I’m not very hungry, Alfred. Sorry.” You moved away from Dick and toward the door.

“That’s too bad, because I made pot stickers, refried beans, and a green salad.” Alfred sighed and headed down the stairs. Your stomach growled. You found yourself following him.

“You did?” Wrapping your arms around yourself, you licked your lips. “When did you get here, Alfred?”

Alfred shrugged. “A few hours ago.” He disappeared around the corner.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.” Dick came up behind you and wrapped his arm around your shoulders to lead you toward the kitchen. “We’ll finish the baby’s room later.”

You frowned, glancing back at the room. Did you really marry a man who thought black was a good color to paint a room? No wonder most of the house was your designs. “I suppose I could eat. Since I’m up and all.”

Dick hummed. You glanced at him, wondering once more what you saw in him. He was hot, you admitted to yourself, and kind. You pondered some more as you both joined Alfred for dinner.

***

With your stomach full and satisfied, you ended up in the baby’s room again. You offered to help with dishes, but Alfred refused your help, instead making Dick do them as Alfred had to head home to take care of Bruce.

Kneeling down next to the box of decorations, you sorted through it. There was were pictures of circus animals, a worn stuffed elephant, a circus mobile, crib sheets with lion and lion tamers on them etc. You noticed a lack of clowns, but then remembered the Joker and thought it was for the best.

“We have the crib, but it’s still in the box in the closet. Bruce and Alfred sent it over once we told them the news.” Dick’s voice made you flinch. You forced yourself to relax as he slowly made his way to sit down next to you on the floor. He kept a nice distance between you, sensing your unease.

“That was nice of them.” You bit your lip. Dick reached over to take the worn stuffed elephant, smirking at it. “That was yours, wasn’t it?”

Dick looked up at you in surprise. The hopefulness in his eyes panged your heart. You didn’t remember that, you just guessed. “Yeah, I grew up with Sikta. She’s named after one of the elephants we had in the circus.” He chuckled, glancing back at the stuffed elephant. “She used to tease me by spraying water on me when I was close by and I would sneak her peanuts.”

“Wow.” You felt a smile pull at your lips. “We didn’t have any pets when I was little. Mom and Dad wouldn’t let us and with Wally being a superhero. No one had the time I guess.” You shrugged, taking out a few classic children books. “These were mine.” You opened them to see your messy three year old handwriting inside. “I wrote my name in them because Wally always did it to his.”

“Is that your name? Wow, your handwriting has gotten much better.” Dick teased, leaning closer to look at the book with you. You got a whiff of his cologne, faded, but still there.

His words gave you pause. “Did I take your name?” You looked at him, blinking when you found him only inches away from you. He turned, his lips almost brushing yours.

“Yeah.” He swallowed hard. “You said your name sounded better as (Y/N) Grayson instead of (Y/N) West.” A blush came to his cheeks. “I was quite flattered.”

“Is that why Wally doesn’t approve?” You took a deep breath, breathing in his scent. It made your body relax. Your abdomen buzzed with excitement.

“No.” Dick sighed. He paused before slowly wrapping an arm around your waist. You found you didn’t mind the touch. “I don’t know for sure to be honest. He hated that we were together and that we kept it a secret for so long. Wally always said that he worked hard to keep you from this life. I think he didn’t want you to be apart of the superhero life and by being with me, you joined it.”

You pursed your lips. “Right, so I should be the one left out? It’s bad enough that I spend holidays alone with Mom and Dad when Wally ran off to save the world. At least with Aunt Iris, it was just me and her when Wally and Barry ran off. Less fighting and passive aggressive comments all the time.”

“Do you want to try to call him?” Dick looked at you with those sparkling blue eyes. You found yourself awed by them. Hopefully, the baby would get his eyes. They were so much prettier than yours.

“No.” You turned back to the books, picking up the Peter Pan book. Opening the cover, you smiled sadly when you saw Wally’s name crossed out and replaced with your own. Dick’s chin rested on your shoulder, looking with you. “I don’t think it will do any good.”

“You don’t know that.” Dick pressed a kiss to your shoulder. “But I’ll support whatever you want to do.” You felt him smile into you, feeling it through your pajamas.

You felt yourself crack like the ground during an earthquake. Your emotions swelled to the surface.

“I’m sorry.” Tears welled up in your eyes uncontrollably. You turned away from him. “I’m sorry I don’t remember. I’m sorry I don’t know you like you know me.” A sob slipped out. It was unstoppable. You felt like there was no way to put a lid on your emotions. “It’s horrible to see the hope in your eyes, but the truth is, I don’t know if I’ll ever remember because nothing here triggers anything for me.” You glanced around the room. “I don’t remember buying this stuff, I don’t remember anything of the photos of us, or decorating this beautiful home.” You choked, wiping your tears with your sleeve. “It’s hopeless.”

Dick pulled you into his arms, letting you rest your head on his chest. “It’s not hopeless and you don’t need to be sorry. You can’t help it. I understand that.” He kissed the top of your head. You relaxed, soothed by his scent and warmth. Your body certainly remembered him, but why couldn’t the rest of you? “I love you, (Y/N). During our vows, I promised to be with you even after death parted us. We’ll work through this.” He chuckled softly. “If anything, we’ll just have to make new memories and stop focusing on remembering the old.”

You looked up at you, smiling at his goofy grin. “Did we really promise each other that in our wedding vows?”

“We did.” Dick leaned down. His lips brushed softly against your cheeks, making your entire body light up in pleasure. “We’ll just have to get married over again, so you can have new memories.”

You blinked. “Do you really mean that?” His lips left you aching for more. He got to his feet and held out his hand.

“Yeah, I do.” He winked at you. “Come on, let’s get out of here and watch a movie or something? Maybe we can discuss what kind of memories we want to make while we do it?”

You nodded, starstruck. Now you could see how you fell in love with him. He was just so...charming. You took his warm hand and got to your feet. Hope was reborn inside you.

***

To say Dick felt great would have been an understatement. He was practically skipping through patrol. Many of the criminals he found were quite surprised by the happy Nightwing who wouldn’t stop smiling as he knock their lights out.

He finished up patrol early and picked up a few things. Dick couldn’t believe he was so stupid. You needed to make new memories instead of him trying to force the old on you. Yes, it hurt him to know you didn’t remember the first time you met, the time he proposed, the wedding, you telling him you were pregnant... Dick swallowed hard, pushing his own feelings aside. He had to focus on you.

Dick took the tunnel home and quickly changed out of his suit. He showered quickly before the food he picked up could melt. Jogging up the stairs, Dick felt like he could do anything.

The kitchen light was on. Dick frowned slightly, wondering if you were up. He knew he turned that off.

As he stepped inside, he froze when he saw a tall, masculine figure leaning inside the fridge. Dick carefully set the bag down on the floor and crept up behind the figure. He grabbed the figure by the back of their leather jacket and pulled them back out of the fridge. The figure grunted, elbowing Dick in the stomach.

Dick groaned before using his strength and position to push the figure into a hold over the kitchen counter. “What the hell?” the figure said. “You greet all your visitors like this, Dickhead?”

“Jason?” Dick blinked, feeling stupid for not recognizing the brown leather jacket that Jason always wore. He let his brother go. Jason groaned, stretching his arms. “What are you doing here?”

“I got back from four months in space yesterday, so I decided to stop by and get something to eat while on my way back to Gotham,” Jason said, glaring at Dick. “(Y/N) said I was always welcome. She even gave me a key.”

Dick sighed. He rolled his shoulders to try to relax. “Right.” He took the groceries out of the bag and slipped around Jason to put them away in the fridge. Jason licked his lips at the sight. “It’s not for you. Don’t touch them.”

“Why not?” Jason snorted, opening a cabinet to take out a bag of chips.

“Jay, did you get any news while you were away?” Dick closed the freezer and leaned against it with his arms crossed. “I’m assuming no, because you wouldn’t have sneaked in here if you did.”

Jason rolled his eyes. “I know you spawned. Tim sent me the announcement card.” He shrugged his shoulder, shoving a chip into his mouth. “Congrats, I guess,” he mumbled with his mouth full.

Dick held back a wince. That felt so long ago. You were so excited to send out those announcements. “Something happened with (Y/N).” He swallowed hard when Jason suddenly froze, staring at Dick with wide eyes. “She’s fine, physically at least. The baby is too.” Dick held up his hands. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

Jason finished chewing and swallowed before he spoke. “So what happened?” His eyes darkened. Dick almost smiled. He always found it funny how protective Jason became of you once you joined the family. Then again, everyone in the family felt the same way.

“(Y/N) took a fall during patrol a few weeks ago.” The memory flashed before his eyes. He had to blink it away. “She was in a coma for about a week. When she finally woke up, she didn’t remember me.” He bit his lip, hating the horror dawning on Jason’s face. “She doesn’t remember anything from the last three years. The last thing she remembered was the day before Wally’s engagement party.”

“Shit.” The color drained out of Jason’s face. “I’m sorry. Geez, I could have scared her to death if she found me, huh?” He ran a hand through his hair at the same time Dick did. Dick noticed, but Jason didn’t.

“It’s okay, you didn’t get the message.” Dick rested a hand on Jason’s shoulder. “If you want to crash on the couch, I can introduce you. She’s met the others again already.”

“Why can’t I take the guest room?” Jason met Dick’s eye, having a ‘duh’ moment. “Oh, right. I suppose if she doesn’t remember you at all, you won’t just jump into bed together.”

Dick hummed, tensing when he heard a creak from the stairs. “So the couch is what I can offer you. We’re going to make up the other bedroom, but we haven’t got to that. I was going to set it up before...”

Jason snorted, tilting his head. He heard you too.

Dick sighed before turning to meet you as you entered the kitchen. You took his breath away even with bedhead and those pajamas that were getting too small for your growing belly. “What’s going on?” you yawned, rubbing your eyes. You saw Jason and jumped at the stranger in your kitchen.

“Sweetheart.” Dick soothed, reaching out to take your hand. You relaxed slightly. “This is Jason, my brother.”

“Oh.” You laughed slightly. “Hi. Dick told me you’re the one who causes the most trouble.” You waved at him shyly. Dick could see the grief in Jason’s eyes once he realized you didn’t recognize him, but only knew of him.

Jason quickly hid his feelings. “Nah, Dickhead is the troublemaker. Isn’t that why you’re knocked up?” He smirked when you seemed slightly taken back by the comment.

You blushed, taking a step behind Dick to hide your pajamas. A somewhat awkward silence filled the room. Dick cleared his throat, squeezing your hand soothingly. “Can Jay stay the night on the couch?” he asked you.

“Sure.” You bit your lip. “That would be fine. Sorry that the guest bedroom is already taken.”

Jason shrugged. “It’s fine. I’ve been sleeping on a rock floor for the past week, so this will be luxury.” He shoved more chips in his mouth.

“I’m going back to bed.” You slipped away. Dick turned, but you were gone as quickly as you came.

“Wow, so you weren’t kidding. She doesn’t know us at all. Otherwise, she would have yelled at me for eating chips and insist I eat some leftovers or something.” Jason sighed, rolling up the chip bag and wiping his fingers on his jeans.

Dick held his breath, listening to your footsteps as you moved around upstairs. “I have a plan though.”

Jason snorted, shaking his head. He grabbed a can of soda out of the fridge. “What? You’re going to hit her on the head again and see if it all comes back?”

“No!” Dick punched Jason’s arm. Jason winced, rubbing his arm. “I thought I could trigger her memories with the house and photos, but it’s not working.” Dick bit his lip. “So I decided to make new memories with her. Tomorrow, I’m going to make her breakfast.”

Jason raised an eyebrow. “Right. Well, don’t mind me.” He waved a hand and brushed past Dick to go to the living room. Dick snorted, holding back a yawn of his own. He turned off the lights and headed upstairs to the lonely guest bedroom.

***

You stood in front of the full length mirror in the huge bathroom, studying yourself. Three years didn’t change much overall. Sure, your hair was different. Maybe your face thinned out a little, losing the bit of it’s childishness.

You turned to the side. The baby bump was new. You remembered Dick said you were almost at the end of your fourth month. Running your hands over it, you smiled. Children had always been something you considered. Tears filled your eyes as you thought about finally having your own family.

Of course, you didn’t remember anything about your husband or the act of getting pregnant itself. You took a deep breath. “New memories,” you said to yourself. Dick was supportive of it and honestly you felt it was the only way to move forward.

The house was quiet for five in the morning. You had been awake since you heard Dick and Jason downstairs. Moping and sleeping for the past week left you full of an energy you weren’t sure what to do with.

After leaving Dick and Jason, you explore every single drawer and storage container in your bedroom. It was like shopping, discovering you still had amazing taste in clothes. Dick had nice clothes too. You blushed at the thought.

You rocked on your feet. Boredom was your problem now.

With a sigh, you left the bathroom and collapsed onto the bed. You reached for your phone and started to look through your pictures again. There were a lot of selfies of you and Dick, a picture of an ultrasound, shots of Dick’s family doing silly things, and lots of kids and people you didn’t know. You guessed that they were people from your gymnastics school.

But there was one person missing from your recent pictures. Wally.

Tears burned in your eyes. “New memories, but without my family.” A shaky breath slipped out of you as you opened your contacts and hovered your thumb over Wally’s name.

You remembered how Wally wouldn’t look you in the eye once he found out you were pregnant. How fast he ran out of the batcave, leaving you alone with people you didn’t know.

Your Wally wouldn’t do that. Never.

You hesitated, hovering your thumb over the call button. He probably wouldn’t be awake if he answered at all. You bit your lip.

Melancholy ate at your heart. You wanted to just see someone you knew. Uncle Barry, Aunt Iris, Wally. Even your mother or father would be great right now.

Your stomach growled. A blush came to your cheeks. You sat up and looked at the double doors to the rest of the house. “It’s your house, you can go eat, you can do what you want,” you told yourself softly. Blueberry muffins with strawberry smoothies sounded good. Very good.

You stood up and went to the door. Taking a deep breath, you opened the door and stepped into the hallway to shuffle your way to the kitchen.

***

Dick woke to the smell of freshly made muffins and coffee. He opened his eyes and jerked up to his feet. “Crap.” He checked the clock only to find it to be seven in the morning. Blinking, he rubbed a hand over his face. Did he make the muffins already? Why would he be in bed though?

He grabbed a shirt from the foot of his bed and headed downstairs. Your laughter drifted from the kitchen along with Jason’s low chuckle.

You and Jason were at the kitchen table with muffins and smoothies in front of you. Jason had a grin on his face. Dick’s heart stuttered when he saw a matching one on your lips. He couldn’t remember the last time he saw you smile. A real smile.

“Hey, I was going to make you breakfast,” Dick said. He straightened his shoulders when your smile didn’t fall as you turned to look at him. “I picked up the fruit last night.”

“Sorry, I was hungry and up early. I saw the fruit and went with it.” You stood up. Dick’s eyes dropped to your bump. Still there. Slightly. He wished he could rest his hand on it, but he stopped himself. You might not be comfortable with that yet.

Jason glanced between Dick and you. He took a big bite of a muffin. You turned away. Dick raised an eyebrow at him. Jason just smiled while chewing.

“Close your mouth,” you said, patting Jason’s shoulder. Jason obeyed. Dick’s heart fluttered as he thought for a moment how it was like the old you. You took out another plate and glass. Dick took a seat across from Jason.

“I was telling (Y/N) about my adventures in space,” Jason said once you sat back down and served Dick a muffin and a smoothie.

You smiled, resting your chin in your hand. “I think you were on the part where you got drunk on alien beer and found yourself in bed with a three foot tentacle monster and a six breasted woman.”

Dick choked on his smoothie. He coughed. You reached over to pat his back. Jason just laughed, leaning back in his seat.

“You what?!” Dick said after he recovered. Your hand stayed on his back. Dick met your eye as Jason told the story. His heart fluttered with hope, your touch warm and so familiar. He hoped this new memories idea worked. His heart couldn’t take it otherwise.

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ntj2pj · 1 month

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reallyyyy lazy ref on my new atp soldat :D

a flee response as atp soldat oc lmao. Man with fastest reaction (enough to catch falling colleague before they break their bones, or pull them away from bullets. He does it quite often.) Feel free to doodle my guy or draw them interacting with your ocs i guess. more info:

a nervous touchy animal who'll just run away if he is being yelled at or insulted too hard (being yelled at by allies and superiors feels much worse for guy than any loud noise or gunfire. poor thing) And even breaks windows to jump away from any height and floor. He really doesn't care and ABSOLUTELY ain't afraid of height. Luckily manages to survive. Fucking gymnast-acrobat. But how annoying he is. TO WORK WITH. You just stand close. sneeze at him not gently enough and HE DISAPPEARS. He gets along with colleagues pretty well... Well, by my AAHW metrics. He isn't popular or favorite, but he gets along with others pretty well and nobody avoids him. He is seen as very non-threating and weak. Or cute. However they call it. He is also pretty tactile (may occasionally try to hold hands or hug someone) and gentle in general, friendly fella. Gets along with mags pretty well and tried to comfort one when saw first time. Extremely good at chasing. Somehow manages to bounce around busy roadways and not become a pancake in the road, getting in windows, getting out, survive and not die on missions. Can do tricks on bicycles cooler than many bikers on motorcycles and usually steals any transport of that kind (but gentle enough to put it back after using). Very expercienced as someone who is being chased. Flee just runs out of AAHW casually without even any plan if triggered, breaks any shit on his way on impulse. And then gets back because Flee doesn't really know how he would survive, doesn't have a plan, and really don't want to leave job. Or, well, gets captured by agents and not even getting so far. His hair was torn out by other soldat who tried to capture him at first attempt to run away, but got kicked (Dan). They're becoming bffs later. Why he got such a weird reaction? Well. In my au every atp gets +- unique programs and modifications which makes them extremely mentally ill useful in different ways lol. ATPs gets their brain messed up and minmaxed in worst and unnatural ways, that's why many scared of it. Amnesia also isn't a good part. Flee was created in AAHW, and his modification ruined his fear-response, too much training created steel reflexes like unavoidable instincts, and messed ability to recognize threats. Guy is very fearless about combats, heights, insane tricks, absolutely doesn't care about risks of breaking any bone or dying (still will do a lot so colleagues won't), but will shit himself from fear and overwhelm if you just say smth mean to him loudly. If it would be done by few grunts he will get nightmares and flashbacks even. Because his sense of being punished and shame is also messed up. For the good of AAHW, of course. At first he was threatened and insulted a lot for this defect, because everyone was confused, then he was used on a trainings because damn he's like a cockroach. And then he was given a little safe place to run in it and not just out of aahw on the streets. aka personal space lmao, until they find out to fix it. But many coworkers find doing little pranks and scaring him funnier because the reaction is just too funny with all that jumping on highest surface in room, or running on all walls and then comedically hit head and FALL. Aaand he doesn't beat them up for it, he just runs as first reaction. Can even bump right into the agent who did it, like an NPC trying to run in a wall, pushing the poor guy like a fucking box in a videogame. Extremely funny idiot. So yeah he gets a lot of occasional jokes for not being aggressive enough. Not to coworkers. :D

#7lroc:fleeres #my art #madness combat oc #atp soldat #madness combat #my oc

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luvneymar · 1 year

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(3) LOVE AND WAR — JUDE BELLINGHAM

SUMMARY: After coming back from a one-night stand with his his best friend, Jude realizes you don’t see him. He’s in love with you and you don’t see him.

PARING: bestfriend!jude x bestfriend!reader

NOTE: send an reply to added to tag list! 😇🫶🤍 also took forever because i went through mental gymnastics every time i tried to figure out an ending that made sense LMAOO

Trent wasn’t stupid, he was aware that Jude had feelings for you. Major feelings. From an outsider perspective he definitely was the backstabbing bastard who stabbed his friend in the front for a girl.

But he didn’t care, Jude had liked you for years and hadn’t made a move but when he finally decided to make one after seeing that Jude had no plans to make you his, Trent decided to step up.

“You should apologize T, you hurt his feelings. It’ll make you feel better.” You muttered into Trent’s ear kissing him softly after every word trying to reassure him about what had happened. Jude was a sensitive guy on the inside and you were sure Trent knew that.

He doesn’t like conflicts or fighting but something about Jude’s outburst last night rubbed you the wrong way. You had a clue about why he bursted out in anger like that but couldn’t quite put your finger on it.

“Fuck no. He punched me, not the other way around. When he learns to use his words and apologizes I’ll talk to him.” Trent kissed you back after he ended his sentence firmly telling you he didn’t want to continue the conversation, you sighed in defeat before kissing his forehead and picked up one of the chocolate covered strawberries placing it on Trent’s lips.

He opened his mouth and ate the whole thing including the leaf at the top before you could pull it away. “You don’t—! Eat the top…”

Trent grinned at you as he chewed the strawberry as slowly as he could, almost as if he was trying to seduce you. You giggled as pulled him in closer towards the kitchen counter you were sitting on waiting for him to swallow the strawberry.

“Y’know a little birdie told me you called me a hot piece of ass at practice yesterday. Is that true?” You inquired looking up at Trent who had. sheepish look his face knowing he had gotten caught.

“Did the birdie also tell you how bravely I fought my friend for you? Look how injured I am.” Trent pointed to the bandage resting on the corner of his forehead as he tried to steer the conversation to another direction.

“It did. But it still doesn’t excuse calling your girlfriend a piece of ass. It’s mean.” You pouted looking down at the floor as you pulled at the stings of Trent’s grey joggers pretending to be upset. He lifted your face by your chin sliding his hands towards the back of your neck to pull you in for a kiss.

His lips were soft and tasted the chocolate at one time and strawberries at another, you felt his warm tongue swop the bottom of your lip signalling you to part your lips to make space for his tongue.

Deciding to be cheeky you denied him access just for it to backfire on you as he tilted your head back and pulled your jaw down just enough for your lips to part allowing his tongue to enter. Feeling his dominance just radiate from a simple French kiss gave you an all to feeling feeling in your panties.

Your warm bodies were pressed against each other so closely there was barely any room between your chest and Trent’s bare one, it was somewhat lewd. Your hands tracked from the back of his neck towards his back as you rubbed your hands up and down slowly sending tingles down his spine.

Finally after an eternity you both pulled away with a thin string of saliva connecting you both as you heaved heavily trying to catch your breaths as you gazed into one another’s eyes watching them go dark in lust. Trent leaned in closely towards your ear and whispered, “Does that make up for it?”

You sighed in romantic and sexual satisfaction as you felt his wet lips place kissed down your jawline all the way to your collarbone, “Or do I have to make it up to you differently?” He muttered as he buried his head into your chest, just as he was about to continue you heard someone clear their voice and turned your head to hear who it was. “Morning.”

“Jude? Good Morning! How was your night?” You asked him sweetly as your hands were tangled in Trent’s loc’s pulling on them slightly to stop him from advancing any further in-front of Jude.

Jude on the other hand felt like he was being punished, like he commit a sin so badly in his past life that he had to watch his best-friend almost sex the woman he loves right in-front of him. First thing in the morning. “Mmh.” He grunted out walking towards the fridge ignoring Trent totally with Trent doing the same.

“Last night I pack a lunch for you to take to practice today, it’s your favourite.” You mentioned through your nonstop giggles as you tried to stop Trent from peaking into your shirt, Jude didn’t dare turn his head in your direction as he felt if he did he would just vomit. The sight was just that rancid.

“Thanks.” He muttered grabbing it and quickly walking out of the kitchen desperately needing to get away from that. Watching Trent kiss on you for at-least 3 minutes was quite humbling & humiliating to a degree that should be considered inhumane.

He hated himself for loving you so much he couldn’t make any space in his heart to hate you, even when you trample on his heart over and over again, if he truly saw no chance with you he probably would’ve moved out by now but again he wasn’t a quitter or a coward.

You might’ve thought you loved Trent but Jude knew better, you didn’t love him. He wasn’t all that great in bed, he wasn’t a romantic guy. He just wasn’t that guy. He wasn’t the guy for you and Jude knew it. But he was the guy that was here. The perfect guy; on paper at-least.

He was in your age range, you both had similar interests & he was just the better match. But statistics didn’t matter, especially when it comes to love. As he turned the corner walking towards the hallway he heard you squeal in excitement from something Trent was doing as he heard something fall down.

The sound of kissing, squealing and things falling onto the floor in the kitchen could only mean one thing was about to go down. Sex. You both wouldn’t even give him the respect and kindness of waiting till he was at-least out of the house.

Before he knew it his feet look him right into the kitchen where he met you sprawled on the kitchen island in your underwear along with Trent in his underwear bodies intertwined with one another.

“What the fuck?” Jude exclaimed in anger towards you & Trent, mainly towards Trent. Normally he wouldn’t mind if you hooked up with people in the privacy of your own bedroom but this was in the kitchen. Where you both ate, laughed, joked & sung. Together. Before Trent’s invasion.

Without Trent intruding into your perfect life with him. Perhaps this wasn’t even about the fact that you & your boyfriend were about to have sex in the shared common area. “Jude! We’re a little busy can you come back… later?” You awkwardly smiled at him still laid out onto the kitchen island half naked.

“Come back later? This is my house. Our house. And you don’t even have decency to deal with your sexual urges in your private space.” Jude scolded you with disgusted laced in his tone. You knew he was just being obtuse seeing as how you’ve done much more freaky things with Jude in the house

“Okay I’m sorry. C’mon baby, let’s go to my room.” You pushed Trent off of you and slid off the counter while using your hands to try and shield your slightly naked body. As you shuffled passed Jude who gave you the dirtiest of side eyes towards both of you you noticed the Trent wasn’t moving.

“You coming?” You asked peering around the corner with one of the living room blankets around your body. Trent waved you to go on without him with a pissed look on his face.

“Go wait on the bed babe, I’m coming.” Jude physically cringed at Trent’s word not even able to imagine in his head how you would looked sprawled out on his bed waiting for him.

As you sashayed away Trent turned to Jude walking closer towards him. “Okay man you need to stop doing that. I know you’re still hung up on her but she’s with me. And I don’t think she plans on leaving me for you anytime soon.”

“We’ll just have to see about that then? Cuz when you find your girlfriend waiting on my bed for me. It won’t be a very nice sight. For you at-least.”

The tension between them only rose as they both bore into each other eyes with fury. All because of a girl they both liked. Except Jude liked you more. Much more.

Trent poked his cheek with his tongue as he chuckled before he walked past Jude patting him on the shoulder before making his way towards your bedroom where you were waiting for him. The pity pat. Jude physically cringed at the feeling of it.

As he heard his footsteps become quieter and quieter Jude grabbed the display apple off the counter and chucked it at the as hard as he could at the wall. “Fucking hell.” He whispered as he ran his hand through his hair.

Even though he tried to taunted Trent by being condescending he still got the last laugh as he was casually making his way to have rough dirty hot sex with you in the room right next to his while Jude’s empty threat was going to stay empty.

I mean who was he kidding? You both had been friends for years and you still hadn’t made a move on him? Or even showed a sign? Soon a light bulb went off inside of Jude’s head as he remedied both of your rooms were literally side by side. The walls weren’t thin but if he was able to get close enough to the wall he’d be able to at-least hear your moans. Hopefully.

He basically teleported to his room flopping onto his bed as he leaned into the wall like a little pervert and listened closely. “What took you so long? Something wrong?” He heard your muffled voice in between kisses, his heart squeezed in hurt hearing that.

“Nothing. I was tangled with something insignificant. Don’t worry about it.” Hearing that made everything unfun for him. He couldn’t take listening to you both fuck like some sick cuck was all apart of his plan to steal you back but to be honest, he didn’t even have a plan.

“Jude didn’t give you a hard time did he?” You asked between kisses felling Trent make his way from your lips all the way down towards your neck slowly undressing you from your morning clothes.

“Nah. He’s not a problem. Stop talking about him princess & continue kissing me.”

“Alright.” You giggled before what he assumed to be you leaning in to kiss Trent again. All of sudden this wasn’t fun anymore. When he wanted to hear your moans you hadn’t made any but when he wasn’t in the mood suddenly he could hear everything.

All he heard were your moans. Loud moans. Of HIS name. It was almost insulting— No. It was insulting. As Jude got up from his bed he grabbed his headphones and played a song at the loudest volume possible in attempt to drown out your moans.

Which worked it moments later he hadn’t felt your headboard slamming against the wall he was resting on. Jude couldn’t roll his eyes far back enough. The sex couldn’t be that good that you guys had to do all that.

Even with all the mental gymnastics Jude was doing to convince himself that this was all according to plan and that he didn’t really care about next-door. But he did he broke his heart so fucking badly.

He just needed to get out of there. Get away from the actual mental torture that he was going through. He casted the song he was listening to, to his Alexa and quietly snuck out of the house, not that you would notice seeing as how you were too busy with prince charming.

He walked down the corridor and out of the house with just a winter coat and a phone charger. He didn’t know where he was going or when he’d be back but all he knew was that he couldn’t come back until he had solid plan in motion to make you his.

← prev [neymarsluv!] next →

#jude! 💋#jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham oneshot #jude bellingham one shot #football imagines #football x reader #football fanfic #football #jude bellingham imagines #jude bellingham smut #jude bellingham fanfic #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham #jude bellingham x you

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definitelyisd1ce · 8 days

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“It’s always been you.”

K. Baji — Tokyo Revengers.

Synopsis : Being somewhat affiliated with gang because you like one of its members; leaves you feeling strung along. Although, if it all fells, it’ll end well. Right?

Content Warnings!

contains the following ; unestablished relationship(s) , light angst to fluff and comfort, sweet nothings and sweet sorrows! ——— very much SFW!

As always, A/N! : My content is for those who wish to read it, though it is heavily recommended that you are 18+. I have no control over what you read, nor is it my business. Read at your own discretion. I’m not holding your hand.

WC; 2.3K !

Viewer Discretion Advised. <3

7:32pm.

The sun had cast a bright orange-yellow through the sheer white curtains of your bay windows, praising its rays on you as you decided it was time to crash in for the night. It was Friday, so there was nowhere to go. All your homework and upcoming assignments had been done, so you were basically just… here.

You settle in your bed with a book, letting the sun set in on you, and watching you read the book (it's more like reading the words and not retaining the information).

You needed help figuring out why you weren't interested in the book. It fits your taste; it was on your "To read!' list, so what was the problem? Unbeknownst to you, the deep-rooted desire to text your situationship was brewing, and it annoyed you.

You tossed the book to your side and picked up your phone, looking at the time and date on the home screen, though there was no notification from the guy you were looking for.

Keisuke.

You didn't like to accept the fact that he ghosted you every now and again, mainly because he always dragged his sorry ass to see you before anything was said and done. You still couldn't hold that over his head because he had a gang, family, mom, and school to cater to.

He wasn't your boyfriend, and you weren't his girlfriend; at least, that's what it comes out to be after you do the mental gymnastics.

You laid your phone on your chest and stared at the ceiling, the ridges in it doing imaginary dances to entertain your brain and distract you from the impending silence. Eventually, your eyes grew shrouded, and you fell asleep.

2:43am.

The light taps of rocks hitting your window roused you awake and caused you to sit up and glance at your phone.

The time read 2:43, and the day was a new day. The only thing different was a couple of missed notifications: various calls and text messages, Instagram, TikTok, etc. But the one that stuck out to you was from your ravenette.

3 new messages and 2 missed calls from 'Baji <3."

It was weird; you didn't even know you had fallen asleep, exhausted and missing everything lively before the world went quiet.

You were pulled out of your stirring thoughts by another pebble thrown at your window, forcing you to pull yourself out of your bed and head to the window. You pulled the curtain back a little, only giving you a view of the ground below it without being seen, and there he was.

Baji, standing in his toman uniform and leaning against his motorcycle, tossed another pebble in his hand, almost nearing to look like he was about to throw it before he glanced at you and put his hand down.

You drew the curtain back and made a questioning face at him, which only caused him to throw his hand up, insinuating for you to open the window.

You grabbed the crank of the middle bay window, the biggest of the three, and turned it until it was open enough to talk with him.

"What are you doing here?!" You whispered-yelled to the boy below you, who only displayed a shit-faced smirk as he saw you.

You were wearing a fitting tank top, nylon shorts, and a bright pink bonnet—a scene that was way too familiar for Baji. It brought him clarity as he saw that, for the first time in a couple of days, you were facing bright even though your expression was dark as you looked at him quizzically.

"I just wanted to see you. I thought you were with Hina or Emma for a while. You really are a heavy sleeper," he answered, kicking the gravel as he chuckled out his response. His hair was in his all-knowing fighting-style ponytail, blood that may or may not be his, and a snark attitude just for you at this unearthing hour.

You rubbed your eyes and fetched your glasses to get a better look at him. Once you returned, you leaned on your window sill and spoke.

"Yeah, well.. when you have basically nothing to look forward to, what's the point of sleeping light?" you asked, head propped up in your palm.

Baji stuck his hands in his pockets and looked at you with a slight tilt to his head, a light pout to his lips. He looked around, trying to find an answer to lighten the mood.

The streets were empty, with the occasional car passing through. People were either on their way or coming back home from work. Bright orange streetlights shadowed the midnight sky, giving Baji a talking point.

"You normally never miss my calls; if you do, you call me straight back. What up with you, babydoll?" he asked honestly, wanting to understand the scarcity of your two moments.

This sent a countdown in your brain, counting the seconds you were about to have a meltdown or self-implode. What's up with you? More like, what the hell is up with him? Who just randomly ghosts people you claim to be infatuated with? But you digressed.

"What's up with me? Nothing is up with me, Keisuke. It's you. I should be asking that question, considering you act like you don't know what phone or a response is." You answered in a quiet yet tired tone, still putting heavy emphasis on his name.

Being woken up from her sleep was warranted, though her calling him by his name caught him off guard.

You could see the look on his face after you called him his name and not his last name or a pet name, slight appalment, and the look of being taken aback. He couldn't lie; it hurt a little, but his pride was too big to show it.

"First name basis, huh…" he muttered back before standing back up straight and opening his mouth to speak again. "I understand. But can you put off being mad at me for a tad bit longer? We can talk it out, yeah?" he asked, feather-light pleading and a somewhat sincere smile on his face.

"And what makes you think I want to do that?" you asked back, deadpan and with a smirk of sarcasm.

Baji looked back at his motorcycle and then back up at you, clicking his teeth as he insinuated a joyride on it.

“Uhn uhn.. uhn uhnnnnn Baji, no. It's too late, and my mom would kill me if she found out I left to go on a joyride. Especially with you." You gritted through your retainer-ridden teeth.

His bike, Ol' Alessia, was almost as old as Baji. You looked at his bike just about two or three feet from behind him, the memories of your shared laughs, your tears, his sweat and blood, and long conversations flooding your senses.

"Come on, I won't keep you out long—just long enough to fill in the missing time." He begged, a slight smirk on his face, his mischief fang, as you like to call it, on display.

After some thought, you caved and rolled your eyes, strolling to your already shut bedroom door and locking it. A slight prayer to hope for an easy in and out slipped past your lips as you put on your robe and house slippers and came back to the window.

"20 minutes?"

"20 minutes."

You sighed once more and climbed out the window, using the tree next to it as your way down. Once you got on your feet, you avoided Baji and went straight to his bike, putting on the helmet he kept for you.

He got on the bike, pulled it out of its idle stance, and revved it to warm it up. You got on right behind him, your body immediately going to backpack him as he pushed off and started to ride down the street.

The light breeze brought a sense of security that you haven't felt since you've last been with Keisuke. You used to reflect on your non-situation-relationship with him in times like these. Sometimes, he'd be with and around you like a lovesick puppy; others, he'd go with so much without a slight acknowledgment toward you.

You laid your cheek on his back as he made precise turns in your neighborhood, fighting the urge to break the stiff silence between you both. He found you being deep in thought cute, but since it was he who was on your mind, he had stirred the conclusion that it was probably a bad thing.

"I'll give ya a penny for that thought.." he spoke up a while after a mindless 7-8 minutes.

"You can keep your penny. I'm just thinkin'," you responded, perching your chin on his shoulder.

"About?"

"You, me, something I'd normally call us," you mumbled, paying attention to orange-hued streetlights. "It doesn't really feel like it's been that recently, y'know?" you urged.

Rueful silence racked through the air as your question surfaced, and Baji's hand was forced to speed the bike up a little.

"Yeah.. but you know I have good reasons, right?" he wondered, also wanting to see where you stood in understanding.

"No, Kei, I don't." you started, leaning up to sit up straight, "I don't know that you do because you don't communicate that."

He hung his head a little, sucking in his bottom lip. He knew he wasn't (and still isn't) the best at communicating. He wholeheartedly felt awful after Mitsuya and Chifuyu dogged him about it.

He guessed being together and not committed drew a fine line between his girl and his gang. He was together with you, but committed to his gang; thus causing a painful realization. After that brief realization, he got slightly startled out by feeling your hand creep up to his and guide Alessia back onto the road.

"Yeah, I guess I do owe you a lot more than I give you, huh?" he asked, feeling the hell-ridden embarrassment creep up his neck and rest on his cheeks.

"Yeah. I'd like to think so. I mean, for god's sake, Kei. I know we aren't in a relationship, but you can at least have some decency and acknowledge that you treat me more than just somebody. You and I have both admitted that." She ranted, pausing occasionally to push down the urge to cry.

"I don't ask for so much as a 'why, what are you doing, run this by me'… just something. Don't even let me get started because it makes me feel like I'm talking in circles, then I'm wasting my brea-"

"Hey! Hey! It's alright. I hear you." He cut you off, looking over his shoulder at you.

You bit your bottom lip, sniffling a little as you finally caught wind of your word vomit. You shook your head, not knowing what more to say. The silence was filling the space you two as he turned back onto your street, the light cruise bringing you back to a level head.

"Look, it's always and has been about you. I just need to work some things out before I can officially say I'm all yours, yeah?" he murmured, pulling up back under your window.

As much as you wanted to scream and hit him and tell him it was not fair, you understood he wanted to go through the troubles to get rid of them before being with you. And for that, you had to commend him.

"Okay, Baji. I guess I can't argue with that." You answered, taking off your helmet and getting off the bike.

It had been exactly 17 minutes since you left, and you still had 3 minutes to return to your window. Baji had gotten off his bike and came for a hug, wrapping his arms around your neck and bending down to kiss your forehead.

"I'm sorry, ma. I am immensely sorry for not making you feel like a priority, not holding myself up to a higher standard, and leaving you in the mud. It's not so manly and Toman code of me." He spoke, etching his apology into your forehead.

You grinned a little at his formality and apology, hugging him back. You pulled back, looking at his pale brown hue, smooshing his cheeks in your hand.

"I understand. I'll forgive you when I see you change and hold yourself up to what you say. But as for now, come on. I'm not letting you drive back home this late," you confided, motioning for him to help you into the window.

He nodded, boosting you into the open pane, allowing you to climb in and make sure everything was in order. Baji turned off his motorcycle and climbed into your window himself. He looked around, feeling the sense of familiarity creep up on him.

"Hey, while you stand there, close the window." You whispered,-demanded, already back into your tanktop and shorts.

He playfully rolled his eyes as he shut your room off from the outside world, removed his uniform, changed into basketball shorts and socks, and prepared to climb into bed with you.

He followed suit, climbing back into your plush sheets, big-spooning you to give you a tinge of protectiveness. You curled up into his caged arms; his faint cologne that wafted on his wrists seeped into your nose and started to lull you into brief, deep sleep. At least not before you got your final words out for the night.

"Kei?"

He grunted politely.

"Just promise me you won't keep me waiting."

"I won't keep you waiting, n/n. I promise. I want nothing but you. I want your past, your present, and your future." He answered, holding you tight and secure.

You smiled, keeping his promise close to you as he kissed the crown of your head.

And with that, you fell asleep.

silly little a/n!🤭: hey guys! second fic, how we feeling about it? Keisuke Baji is my man so there DEFINITELY will be a lot of fics about him as i write more. Feel free to drop suggestions. i’m open to just about any fandom i’m familiar with. as always, im open feedback and critiques! (though do be nice.). and as per usual; divider by @benkeibear:). reposts are highly appreciated ;).

#baji #tokyo revengers baji #tokyo rev x you #tokyo rev x y/n #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo rev fluff #baji keisuke #baji x black!reader #baji x reader #baji x y/n #toman baji #tokyo revengers #tr fluff #tr fanfic

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