#what happened remember your roots | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

screampied · 1 month

Text

‘ ONE OF HIS GIRLSSSS ! ,

ᡴꪫ‎ sum. toji ends up finding out maybe his best friend's daughter isn’t so innocent after all once he walks in on you and your precious 12k viewers. he grows amused by your little side hustle as a cam girl. but actually, maybe having him as a special guest wasn’t so bad. (girl it was)

wc. 6k

warnings. fem! reader, vōyerism, dad's best friend! toji, age gap (reader is over twenty), unprotected, praise, dirty talk, squírting, cunnílingus, slight dumbification, impact play, size kink, spit.

dbf! toji masterlist

“guys, i’m serious,” you’d utter, your monitor staring right back at you — a full live audience of over twelve thousand eyes listening to you speak. you were cooped up in your room, slouching on your chair with your legs pressed together. “he’s totally real. we even almost got caught one time.”

you were referring to your dad’s best friend, toji…

just muttering his name aloud made you feel all sorts of tingles. oh, to think how that 'one time' was just about three days ago. you still remember everything like it just happened, the intoxicating taste of toji’s lips, his unforgettable loud cologne scent, how fucking mean he was, you missed him, who were you even kidding. last time you checked, him and your father went out somewhere. you didn’t bother to care where, probably fishing or something.

skimming through the plethora of donations with filthy questions, thirsty provocative questions that desperately craved your attention, you read one, “how is he in bed, oh—well,” and you squeeze your thighs before re-adjusting your screen. “he’s okay. i had to fake my orgasms a few times though, figures ‘cause he’s kinda old.”

“oh yeah?”

as if on cue, there toji stood—right outside your doorway, hands buried in his deep roots of pockets and that same unreadable expression. he’s sending you straight daggers, you crane your neck to glance at him before you panic, “uh, i’ll talk to you guys later.”

“nah keep that shit on, girl,” he shakes his head, trodding his bare feet towards you. you mentally face palm. you could have sworn he was out somewhere with your father. “just when i thought ya couldn’t get even freakier,” he mutters, and he’s now behind you—green irises peering at your monitor. the chat suddenly spams with some of your audience lusting over toji, wondering if he’s a special guest. “heyyy,” he says to the screen, his voice was a pitchy low and then you gasp once he throws an arm around you. “is he a special guest?” and then he turns to you with a sly grin. “i don’t know, princess . . am i?”

“. . . i mean i guess,” you speak, not even realizing how your tone softens a bit. this always happened, whenever you were just a few feet away from toji, you’d feel so tense. it’s officially been a week since the two of you were screwing around—you hadn’t gotten caught, at least you think you haven’t gotten caught. the thrill of it all though, it was enticing. he eyes your little set up and he’s amused more than anything. “this is the guy i was telling you guys about,” you avert your dilated pupils back towards the bright screen. “this is . . . toji.”

“heh yo,” he scoffs at the screen with a greet, seeing how your confidence fades the moment he’s in the room with you. toji leans beside you, eyeing the lewd comments before one catches his eye. “tell him to turn around. what for?”

you sheepishly grin at the webcam, knowing some of your aroused fans wanted to take a quick peek at toji’s ass. to be fair, you couldn’t exactly blame them. you stare a bit yourself, and it was definitely. . . something.

three new tips from mod gojoclitoru: girl bye he looks like he doesn’t shower

wormfucker69: he looks like the guy who works @ my cleaners lol

shokostrapdestroyer: Where’s Shoko ?????

kanyeastinfection: Soooo hawt ;)

iloveosamudazai: i miss nanamin

“how come y’er all shy? i heard what you’ve been saying ‘bout me, y’know,” toji mumbles. he stands tall, cracking his neck towards the left. his entire frame, he was always so handsome. you take a moment to glance up at him, his perfectly chiseled physique. he looked like he was about to head to the gym, he had on a simple wife beater with dingy grey sweats. his gaze he had towards you was purely tantalizing. “. . ah,” he inches closer towards you, bending down as you sat on the office chair, getting right up close to your face. “why don’t you repeat that last bit for me. you fake your orgasms with this old man?”

“i didn’t ….” you trail off, trying to come up with some excuse. suddenly, it felt hot. you felt hot.

your heart starts to race the more he stared you down. the chat was going at a much more rapid speed, it’s like your viewer count doubled the moment toji entered. then you thought—maybe this would do you some good, having him as a special guest didn’t seem so bad.

he lightly grabs your chin, making you peer straight into his eyes. “i stay away from you for three days ‘n it seems like you forgot how to act.”

toji did have a point precisely, for the last three days you basically had the entire house to yourself. him and your father went out to some business trip, you missed him though.

of course, if you tagged along you’d be sure you’d both get caught so you just offered to watch over the house. it was as if the more time you spent with toji, the more you started to feel something.

you didn’t know what it was, it was hard to put into detail, put into pure words—but you knew for certain, you didn’t wanna stop seeing him. it was spring break after all…

“i meant what i said,” you mutter.

while returning his gaze, toji’s eyes widen for a bit, off guard by your sudden switch of attitude. you had a bit of a plan, you decided if you played along, your sweet thousands of fans would eat it up. and they were, the repetitive high-pitch sounds of constant donations rang through your ears before you continue to speak. “i faked everything, toji.”

his eyes linger into you for a long time before he drags a thumb down your lip. “well shit. that so?” and his voice—it pitches a dangerous tune. you already start to feel your thighs squeeze together more tightly. “mhm,” he grunts, watching you nod your head in response. he scoffs to himself before grumbling. “maybe i should make it more real for you then.”

with such simple words, trust and believe he does.

toji’s way of making it more real was to simply have you ride his face, all in front of your audience too.

for some reason, you felt burning up coming to the sheer realization that literally all eyes were simply on you. a quick glance at your blue light monitor and the viewer count displayed a hefty whopping amount of 12,295. all you could think about it was the hefty bank you were about to make.

your legs quaver as toji’s laid flat on your old bed, having you take your seat right on his face — his breath is hot as he runs his tongue alongside your inner thighs before giving you a stare. “eyes down here, not them,” he snarls, and you moan once he spanks your pre-soaked clit, your panties still attached. “they aren’t about to fuckin’ eat you out, are they?”

“n—no,” you murmur out, looking down back at him and he slowly runs a fat thumb down your slit.

oh, you were soaked alright.

a cute little damp spot between the middle part of your underwear makes an appearance and he slides his tongue all against it. he’s so slow with it all, making sure to take his time to make you pout out for him. “toji,” you mumble, feeling your tummy sink in before you huff out a single breath. he’s still so attractive, even underneath you—a little yet nice amount of facial hair scatters near certain parts of his face. scattered specks of brief darkened hair near his sharp jaw paint his face like an empty canvas. you run a finger against his chin and he shoots you a sleazy grin. “hurry up, toji.”

dark eyes flicker back towards you before he gifts your sopping pussy a mean spank. “hurry up toji,” he mocks your tone. you melodically whimper, watching as he licks a single stripe between your covered slit. “shut the fuck up. ‘m gonna take my time with you since apparently you ‘fake’ everything.”

you couldn’t help but merely slip out a giggle, your comment really offended him in some way. obviously, you were joking though—you and toji both knew he knew how to snatch multiple orgasms out of you at once. he was quite a skilled man without question, with his tongue—his dick, literally anything.

although, you snap out of your salacious thoughts the moment you feel him latch his tongue against your folds. it took you a minute to realize your panties were already off, he practically ripped them off and he was already digging in. you whimper, hovering your weight over his face before staring at the lit up monitor.

BIGDICKKUNA: Even my domain has better camera quality than this

gojoclitoru: here sukuna go…

FOXYKITTEN2940: clean up aisle my pants >.<

you’re starting to grind against his face, a hand combing through his hair before your bite your lip. toji stares at you, dragging a thumb down your puffy slit before leaning back to spit on it. he was always such a sloppy man—no shame in the world. you’d feel yourself pulsate whenever he did that, departing his lips away from your cunt before collecting a good wad of saliva to coat your folds with such a sheeny translucent color.

squelch after squelch, undeniably you were sopping. his nose briefly prods against your nub and you whine once he finally starts to actually eat you out.

“f-fuckkk.” you’d breathe, intaking a sharp breath. sudden dizziness overtook you—a thrum escapes from your sheeny lips as you rock your hips forward. it was hypnotic, the way you move against his mouth. toji looked so pretty underneath you too. his eyes, so hooded and half lidded—such a hungry gaze, a starved animal. he starts tantalizingly slow at first, making sure to lay the flat of his tongue against your entrance before simply digging in.

side—to—side, his head continues to swiftly shift and move as he’s devouring his meal, a thumb continues to strum against your slick arousal before he starts to suck, suck, suck.

candy, a perfect way to describe your taste in toji’s humblest opinion. he could never get enough, a few long strands of his hair tickles against your thighs as he resumes his sloppy eating. “mhm. pull on it.” he says between hot breaths, and you feel a sudden fire ignite inside of you. you knew immediately he was referring to his hair. such ruffled, messy strands desperately awaiting to be tugged by your fingers.

so you do—you take a good grab, lightly yanking him forward and he grunts.

“. . harder,” he rasps, and he’s already starting to look blissed out. eyes all glazed over, you wriggle over his face before you feel a sudden shiver overtake you. you pull harder and his face goes right against your cunt. you sloppily swipe against his nose like a credit card and he smirks at you. “that’s what ‘m talking about. ride my face, girl.”

his words, his filthy vulgarly words guide you through it all.

each pulse makes you twitch even more—each breath that runs out your mouth feels like it’s going to be your last, especially with a tongue like toji’s. he makes sure not to miss a drop, slurping quite everything out of you. he was a man—not necessarily a clean one, but he was never scared of a little mess. you start to coat the bottom part of his chin with your slit, it’s glistening so much.

after a while, toji’s already drunk off of your sweetened taste. every few flicks of his tongue against your nub makes cute whimpers coo out your throat and you only tighten the grip against his hair.

“r-right there, ‘s good when you suck there, toji.”

“cause i know what the fuck ‘m doing.” he grumbles back, bringing his same thumb to slide down your slit. he repeats it again and again. smearing your own mess right back on you, only to clean it up. he was a messy man, and with a tasty pussy that you had—you only made him ten times messier.

he was never one to complain though, toji’s the type to never say thank you—he shows you how grateful he is, it involves with being between your legs.

toji fushiguro…

a sleazy man without a single care in the word, maybe messing around his with best friend’s daughter slash colleague was a bit taboo. but did he care—no, was he gonna stop doing it—no, was he perhaps catching feelings for you the more time he spends with you? were you catching feelings?

. . .

unanswered questions, even if you asked yourself that question, you honestly couldn’t even know how to reply. the two of you never really labeled anything, so this was just a simple spring break fling right?

once courses resume and you go back to your well prestige university your father got you into due to connections, that’d probably be the last you’d see of him. toji fushiguro, the man you’ve been screwing around with for the past almost two weeks. it’s almost safe to say that you started to get attached to his presence—sometimes it’s like the two of you didn’t even care if you got caught. there was literally a time where toji fingered you under the table during dinner.

that was . . embarrassing.

the way you were trying to withhold a conversation with your father—he’s just rambling you about what a boring day he had at the office and you’re over here gushing on his best friend’s fingers. you find yourself thinking about that specific moment all too well—as well as the various other ones, him fucking you on the hood of his car, in the living room, and even the bathroom—which your panties ended up getting found.

oops.

“told you to keep those fuckin’ eyes on me,” he hoarsely rasps—snapping you out of your lewd reminiscing fantasm. his tongue, it’s swirling all against your clit as you focus your attention back towards him. with two big hands, he holds your jerky hips steady—feeling you rut against his mouth before he feels you pulse right in his mouth. “yeah.” he mutters, bringing two digits to prod towards your slick entrance. you whine, feeling him slowly insert them with ease—so wet, he was almost in awe at how you were dripping like a faucet. not even a faucet could compare nor describe how sodden your sweet cunt was. each lap he makes with his tongue gets more filthy, it turns into sucking before you’re practically spasming all over again.

you moan, hands still tight and rigidly tangled within his strands before you take a quick peek at your laptop. so many eyes were on you—so many more eyes now, the count was steadily doubling, the donations you were receiving made your mouth nearly water. tip after tip, your pupils turned into green dollar signs. this was probably the most viewers you had in the entirety of your little cam girl side hustle.

all thanks to toji.

you’re getting close, it’s inevitable—especially with the way your hips continue to rock back and forth. a cute rhythm he got accustomed to, toji brings two rough hands towards the fat mounds of your ass before squeezing it. he was always a handsy man, feeling all over your body. green pools of eyes stare right at you as you’re intaking each staggering breath that escapes your spit-glossed lips. “c-close, toji,” you’d babble out, your knees almost buckle—a sudden twinge pouring into your lower abdomen before you mewl. “gonna—cum, gonna—”

“baby hold it,” he says sternly, the base in his voice never failing to make you wet. he breaks his lips away for a moment before he glances at the screen—an upside down position. “hm. chat, should the pretty girl finish early?”

your heart drops—you knew how many trolls you had in your audience, and before you could cutely tell him to just let you climax, he hums in amusement at the incoming flood of comments.

chososbootylicker29: Petition to have Toji oiled and cheeked up

zorosballswallower: NOOOOO

anonymoususer: dad?

gojoclitoru: lol no.

and with many others the comments continue to flood.

majority of the answers being no—you hated being edged, loathed it. especially with toji because he was so damn mean. he snickers, reading the responses upside down before you feel the two tips of his fingers shove way deep inside you. your back arches and you whine ore he holds your hips in place with a single hand. “looks like y’er little fans want you to wait pretty girl,” and you look down at him with a cute glare—his lips depart and his entire mouth from the very bottom of his chin was damp. even still, he looked so attractive. “cute. a glare ain’t gonna change nothing though,” and a pout shortly stretched against your lips as he runs his tongue near your frantic pulsing clit. he brings a spank to it and it makes you whine. “be a good girl ‘n wait a little longer.”

“i can’t,” you frown out, and that only earns another sharp spank towards your folds.

“yes you fuckin’ can,” and you start to whine once he stops eating you out. it felt so warm, all of a sudden the cold air wafts against your skin and you shudder. toji loves more than anything to spank your pussy whilst staring right into your eyes. “if i tell my girl to wait, she’s gonna wait.”

my girl…

for some reason, that made your pulsing ten times worse, a plethora of butterflies arise inside your stomach and you’re still just hovering over his face.

he palpates his fingers—not his tongue to rummage all inside your cunt, you frown cutely. you wanted his tongue, not his stubby thick fingers. although, the thing you wanted most was to finish. as you grind against his face, you feel his infamous scar run against your pussy and it tickles. it tickles in such a way that it drags out a sweet crying moan from you.

“t—toji,” you start to grow impatient. he’s just teasing you, blowing against your folds with warm breath, swiping his nose alongside your sopping entrance, anything but tasting you again. he likes seeing you like this, on the brink of tears because you got denied a climax. it started to come closer and closer until once it was finally there—you puff up your cheeks for a split second before moaning. “g-god, i can’t hold it. ‘m gonna cummm.”

“wait,” he utters in a husky rasp, watching as you quaveringly hover over his face—chin just soaked with your arousal, he licks the bottom of his lip before tittering at you. “you finish when i’m ready.”

“f-fuck you,” you whimper, and you end up cumming anyway—he’s taken aback but it only arouses him even more. the brat, oh the brat that you were. one of the many things he liked about you, you were submissive but not entirely—you had a backbone, you talked back to him, you even had the nerve to roll those pretty eyes at him.

it hits you like a semi-truck.

illegal full speed, the brakes were had to step on and you feel it just strike right into you at full force. your orgasm, you scoot your hips forward against his mouth and now he’s the one glaring at you. toji laps up all of you, two fingers spreading your clit apart before he spits on it again. “you just don’t listen, huh,” and his voice was even lower than it was before—a rich baritone lingering underneath it. you’re riding out your climax when he lightly shoves you on the bed.

in your mind, you’re thinking . .

finally, the good part.

toji grimaces at the cute smile that goes against your lips. you’re eager just as him— not to mention, it’s been three days since he’s touched you. “don’t get too excited, brat,” he grumbles with a scowl tugging the corners of his mouth. he plops onto the bed before staring down at you. “bend the fuck over for me. fake orgasm my ass.”

so blunt, you immensely comply—so impatient for him to just be inside of you.

the piles of donations triple by this point, and you try to take a peep at your screen before he spanks your ass. “ass up, face down little girl. don’t got all day.”

“sorryyy,” you giggle with a mere eye roll.

testing toji’s patience was always so fun for you. for whatever reason, getting on his nerves really turned you on. once you finally bend over for him, two hands grab the fats of your ass and you bite your lip once he prepares to align himself. you’re facing your bright lit screen.

the comments talking more about toji than you and you pout . . . figures though. he’s hot, no wonder all the attention would be on him instead of you.

with his right hand, he wraps it around his thick length before rubbing his tip against your pre-drenched entrance. he grunts, witnessing how your pussy tries to swallow him so easily…

you’re puckering, awaiting for him to stuff you full as you’re slump right into the mattress. “but sweetheart, y’er not sorry,” he grunts, smacking his fat tip against your slick folds. a soft mewl runs out the back of your throat before you arch just a bit more. with another spank, he snarls in a huff, “not gonna fuck ya that easy. y’er gonna have to use those manners if you wanna get what you want.”

“huh?”

“huh?” he mocks, kissing your ass with another spank from his palm. “you can’t hear? speak, girl. talk ‘ta me nice.”

glossy eyes of yours avert towards your screen, everyone’s lusting over toji and it only fuels his ego even more—you easily felt yourself throb, a pout never leaving your lips before you inhale.

“please . . ” you start, feeling him softly drag a hand against your curves, your physique. his touch always had you weak, taking in every part of your frame. all his . . just for these few weeks.

“please what?”

“please f—fuck me,” you grumble, and you’re growing more and more irritated—he hums to himself, amused. each second you spend speaking, each second he could be inside of you. you and him both knew that.

toji rubs his leaky tip with a bit more pressure against your pussy, just a a little more and he’d be inside. you started to feel your mouth salivate before you start to whine. “hm,” he ponders to himself, green eyes occasionally staring at the laptop that had about hundreds of comments spamming per second. “fine. i feel like bein’ nice to you today, especially since i haven’t seen my girl in a hot minute,” and again, he refers to you as his girl. it sends an unfamiliar feeling of butterflies brewing up in your stomach before he spanks you for probably the umpteenth time now. “now, arch a liiiitle more ‘n stare at your fans for me, yeah.”

you’re propped on the mattress with your ass all up in the air. from your screen as you stare at it, you spot toji’s mirroring reflection. that sly smile that slowly and gradually forms against his lips.

“lie the fuck down.” he mutters, feeling you try to sit up. you do, intaking a single breath before you feel him huff out a low puff. toji’s eyes stare right at your ass, he takes every moment in. the way you suck him in, it’s just filthy. the saturated squelches that shortly follow afterward—so filthy.

a six letter word to perfectly describe this entire situation.

arched over for your dad’s best friend, who would have thought—not you, not in a million years.

“ . . . shit,” he pants, and you’re so wet. you moan, pawing at the fat silk sheets in front of you. so many flooded comments of your audience merely thirsting over toji, wishing desperately that they were in your position. ( . . quite literally . . )

and toji’s just so fucking big.

he’s got a lofty height of inches under his belt.

metaphorically speaking—just a single sharp thrust and you’re speechless.

the wind gets snatched out of your lungs and it’s so vigorous that your head’s spinning. this entire angle, he’s got you right where he wants you—on all fours with your ass perked up. toji can’t keep his hands to himself anyway, his hands roam all over your waist before holding both hips in place. clammy hands just about stick to your skin before he starts to create a decent pace.

a slow pace — a slow pace that turns more mean.

languidly, you feel yourself leaning to his touch as he runs a hand down your spine.

toji brings one leg up to deepen the position and not even moments later, your lips part.

“t—toji . . ah ah,” and you don’t even recognize yourself. he repositions himself for a split second, making haste with his hips before sliding his feet right past your knees. with this, it’s more stimulation and you feel it all. just the right amount of pressure, his balls sharply thwack against your ass and it makes your mind cloud up with fuzz.

“. . damn,” he groans, a hand grabbing towards the back of your university hoodie. as he leans forward, dark viridescent colored pupils stare at your rear. the way it jerks and recoils against him, everytime . . it’s the best part. even more when he spanks it, deepening his hips against your cunt to earn out a cute whine or two from you. for what seemed like the millionth time, toji kisses the right cheek of your ass with various spanks. the sting has you gnawing on your lip like it’s candy, curling your toes up with a few droplets of sweat coating the bridge of your nose. “missed this pussy, three days too fuckin’ long, brat.”

“i missed you t—.”

“girl hello? i wasn’t talking to you.”

you frown, and it follows from a snicker from him.

“. . . so dramatic,” he’d eye roll once he hears you blow out a cute sigh. “fine, i did miss you,” and that was only a half lie. you knew in actuality, he missed what’s between your legs. toji still remained sassy as usual, it never left and it’d always stay. he’s buried all into you, deep to the hilt that each time his angry reddened tip drives against that spot, you squeal out in sweet pleasure.

it didn’t take him long to locate it, your g-spot. after a while you start to feel your pussy open, spreading wide—gaping. he was so ridiculously big, it’s leaving such question marks floating over your forehead because how can someone be this thick.

with a gruff—toji groans, veins bulging through his veins as he yanks your hoodie forward into him. he’s lenient, at least for a good while. letting you have your fun, get drunk off his cock before he edges you a more . . . oh just maybe.

gojoclitoru: does anyone want the link to my only fans :(

willbang4curses: Idk who I wanna be more…

iamnotsugurugetoseriouslyiamnothim: i want your only fans @/gojoclitoru

hotpeach03: Toji please I’m a single mom

your chat continues to spate, it’s so much that as your eyes watch them all flood down the logs, you could barely read the words.

he’s so deep inside, you’re almost drooling.

the stretch—he always leaves you so full, lips all parted and that same gaping mouth opening. pant after pant, you’re heaving heavily with your chest feeling tight and warm. “so deep,” you’d shriek, and he makes your arch lower just a bit further. he’s hitting all the right spots, not missing a single area. his dick retreats as it pulls out, then back again—twitching all inside of your cunt, he lunges forward with his hips before making you plop on your chest. “. . . .ohmygodohmygoddd,” and you were so whiney, you still can’t believe such pathetic noises slither past your damp lips. engulfed with your warm gummy walls squeezing him tight, he spanks you again . . . and again, and again.

“miss me that bad, huh?” he starts to speak. his voice was a pitchy rasp. a gruff base hides underneath it and you can hear the grit lingering like he needs to clear his throat. nevertheless, you throb anyway as he’s jackhammering his cock right into your swollen cunt over, and over, and over. “that why ya keep walkin’ around with these outfits? with no fuckin’ panties underneath, yeah?”

“forgot,” you whimper, shuddering once you feel toji grow playful. he trails his thumb towards your neglected puckering hole, fiddling with it just to get a reaction out of you, and he does. “s-sorry, ‘m sorry.”

“you don’t just forget to put panties on, slut,” he groans, and he feels himself approaching soon. it’s at the tip of his tongue—he feels the burn arise in the lower parts of his thighs, veins contouring to bulge all throughout his body. “wonder what y’er old man would think. ya only pull this shit ‘cause ‘s just you ‘n me here.”

he was right.

then again—if you’d have your father here, you’d never pull a bold stunt like that.

you’d rather drop dead than save yourself the embarrassment. funny though, considering the amount of times you almost got caught.

“so . . ” you mumble, and that’s when he presses his weight right against you this time. ah, prone bone.

you were really in for it now, thickly you swallow before his weight merely hovers over your ass, really deep in you this time.

he vigorously rams his thick cock into your sweltering cunt that’s hugging him oh so tight. he’s such a tease too—using every few chances he gets to poke and gingerly rub a thumb against your pulsating hole.

sweet moans die from your throat as you’re clinging onto the bed—such force that the springs nearly collapse from the whopping amounts of weight creating sheer impact. each thrust, it rings rapidly throughout your ears before toji groans. “f—fuck,” he’d groan, ignoring your little attempts of pure bratiness. you were at your wits end, smothering your glossed lips together before you feel his rounded cockhead mash against your most forbidden spots. spots that was so deep inside the inner areas of your cunt that it makes you mewl out in pure ecstasy. “gonna make me fill you up, princess,” he huffs out, tugging even tighter on the bottom part of your cerulean blue pull over. “s—shit,” and his gruff voice pitches time and time again. for a moment, you think you can hear toji whimper. it was real subtle though, but you heard it. loud and clearly. “gonna take it like you always do?”

“yesyesyes,” you nod—words pouring out of your lips like a waterfall, kneading your fingers into your palms as you bawled up the bedsheets right into your hands. with hooded droopy eyes, you stare at the screen with a dumb expression—he then takes the opportunity to get closer, grabbing you by the hair before holding your head up in front of your thousands of viewers.

“yes what, girl.”

you whine, feeling how perfectly his dick mashed throughout your folds—so easy for him, he was so thick that the stretch was simply immaculate.

“yesss, ‘m gonna take your c-cum, toji,” you’d pant, feeling your own eyes roll backwards—you probably looked a mess in front of your own thirteen thousand viewers, but you could care less. all that your empty brain could fathom was how you were ludicrously stuffed with his hefty cock. he’s drilling into you so good that that it almost feels like a massage. rough fingers run down your spine with one hand, another holding your head by the hair like it’s a prized possession before you whimper. “fuck me, fuck me, fuh—”

toji slaps a hand over your mouth the minute he hears something from downstairs—sure enough, it had to be your father.

shit.

he must have came home early. you remember him mentioning to you he was taking a trip to the corner store after work, probably to get some booze for him and toji to enjoy for some dumb football game.

“honeyyy? you up there?”

you moan, almost feeling your eyelids grow heavy as he’s still holding your head up in front of your laptop—his reflection in the screen just pounding into you at full speed.

already, you’re coating the back of his hand with nothing but your damp saliva—such a dirty girl, preferably his dirty girl.

maybe you were a bit delusional, no. you were very delusional—maybe this could go somewhere? then. again, it was no secret on how toji’s only around to get his dick wet, a reality that you forevermore choose to ignore—until you’d soon find out how that would bite you in the ass later on.

dead silence—you’re just muffling out mewls right into his mouth, and as if on cue, toji ends up finishing inside of you. it’s so much, velvety ropes of hot nut that fill the very insides of your pussy, shooting straight into your womb that your tummy flutters. it’s so much to where it spews out of your hole, he’s gotta poke his thumb in and swipe some out with the way it continues to leak. it’s so dirty, then again—toji fushiguro was a dirty man, the dirtiest.

“are ya gonna reply ‘n let y’er old man know you’re getting off his best friend’s cock or . . ?”

his words, such a tease that he’s still slowly pumping into you. gradually but slow, he plugs into your walls—seeping with cum that oozes out of your folds and you stare at the screen with a cute cock-drunken expression. “mmph,” was your reply, the only reply you could formulate since his big hand almost covered your entire face. so you give him a concise nod, hooded eyes feeling dry from staring at the screen for so many amount of minutes.

eventually, your father leaves and returns back to what he was doing . . . phew.

“that’s right,” he whispers in a low risqué tone, bringing a kiss towards the left part of your neck.

so tender—you’re gathering the strength to sit up but you end up slumping forward. with a pathetic, ‘oof’ you land on your chest, your own climax at the very edge. it’s cute because you end up finishing around the same time—your chest feels heavy, lungs tightly collapsing and all. the perfect way to describe your orgasm was a bomb—a bomb that was ticking and ticking, preparing to detonate before it finally does. instead, the destruction was you squirting, all over toji’s dick that stuffed you full. he’s so close up to your ear, hot breath fanning against your earlobe before he continues to speak. “. . oh, y’er fuckin’ dumb right now, aren’t ya. can barely speak.” and he removes his hand to where a trail of your spit departs. so lewd, you’re spasming from your recent release before with a quick glance—you stare at your monitor. you surpassed your tip goal by a huge milestone, yet like toji said—you were too dumb to even process let alone acknowledge it.

“t—toji,” you whimper, feeling the remnants of his sweet and savory seed pour down the crevices of your thighs. it was sticky, sticking to your skin like glue, sweltering of its entirety.

“come here, princess.”

it surprised you. for once, he was being . . . soft.

you reach backwards, closing your laptop before leaning right into toji. you moan, feeling his beefy ripped arms wrap around you, bringing you right into his embrace. bulky arms go around your waist and he pulls you into a sloppily heated kiss.

simultaneously, your heart skips a few beats—a few, probably an understatement. he tastes sweet, you could make out a brief tang of liquor on his tongue—a taste you didn’t want to ever forget. as your tongue rummages against his, you moan once he gets a bit handsy, a hand going right between your legs to feel the mess he made. the mess you made yourself also.

breathy pants could be heard from your lips as you press your dampish perspiring hands all on his bare chest. he’s wearing a somewhat of a formal shirt — you tug on his collar, yearning for him to come closer, to touch you more, hold you more. something, whatever it was was just brewing up inside of the very depths, the very pits of your stomach.

toji groans, the warmth of his breath wafting against yours before he pulls you away to get a good glimpse of you. a big hand holds your waist, and his eyes peer into you for a long time before as if he hesitates—he kisses the top of your forehead, only to stare away with a scowl.

“. . . toji,” you murmur, and by this point you weren’t speaking with your brain—more so with your heart. it was apparent, especially with the way your droopy hooded eyes suddenly soften the moment you speak out the two syllables in his name.

“let me speak first.” he grouses, a thumb stringing alongside your back, gently strumming against your skin. with the way you gazed at him, making him lie back before aligning yourself, it was clear as day that you wanted more of him. he leans back, long strands of black hair run down his face with his legs sprawled before he prepares to finish.

you straddle him, sitting flat on his lap and he’s so warm—he’s a bit flustered, flaccid from his release and of course a bit sensitive. it’s quite rare to see toji in such a . . . vulnerable state. perhaps you soften him in a few ways or less. at least, that’s what you’d like to think.

it takes him a long time to formulate the words, it’s as if his tongue was tied—weird for him considering it’s toji, he’s always direct and blunt.

and yet for once, you have him speechless.

toji lets off a irritated sigh before while what seems like forever, he mutters out a gruff, “shit. i . . i think ‘m in love with you.”

“ . . . ”

#★vegasbaby.#toji smut #toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro smut #fushiguro toji x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #female reader #anime smut #cw sex mention

4K notes · View notes

suzannahnatters · 1 year

Text

So here's one of the coolest things that has happened to me as a Tolkien nut and an amateur medievalist. It's also impacted my view of the way Tolkien writes women. Here's Carl Stephenson in MEDIEVAL FEUDALISM, explaining the roots of the ceremony of knighthood: "In the second century after Christ the Roman historian Tacitus wrote an essay which he called Germania, and which has remained justly famous. He declares that the Germans, though divided into numerous tribes, constitute a single people characterised by common traits and a common mode of life. The typical German is a warrior. [...] Except when armed, they perform no business, either private or public. But it is not their custom that any one should assume arms without the formal approval of the tribe. Before the assembly the youth receives a shield and spear from his father, some other relative, or one of the chief men, and this gift corresponds to the toga virilis among the Romans--making him a citizen rather than a member of a household" (pp 2-3). Got it?

Remember how Tolkien was a medievalist who based his Rohirrim on Anglo-Saxon England, which came from those Germanic tribes Tacitus was talking about? Stephenson argues that the customs described by Tacitus continued into the early middle ages eventually giving rise to the medieval feudal system. One of these customs was the gift of arms, which transformed into the ceremony of knighthood: "Tacitus, it will be remembered, describes the ancient German custom by which a youth was presented with a shield and a spear to mark his attainment of man's estate. What seems to the be same ceremony reappears under the Carolingians. In 791, we are told, Charlemagne caused Prince Louis to be girded with a sword in celebration of his adolescence; and forty-seven years later Louis in turn decorated his fifteen-year-old son Charles "with the arms of manhood, i.e., a sword." Here, obviously, we may see the origin of the later adoubement, which long remained a formal investiture with arms, or with some one of them as a symbol. Thus the Bayeux Tapestry represents the knighting of Earl Harold by William of Normandy under the legend: Hic Willelmus dedit Haroldo arma (Here William gave arms to Harold). [...] Scores of other examples are to be found in the French chronicles and chansons de geste, which, despite much variation of detail, agree on the essentials. And whatever the derivation of the words, the English expression "dubbing to knighthood" must have been closely related to the French adoubement" (pp 47-48.)

In its simplest form, according to Stephenson, the ceremony of knighthood included "at most the presentation of a sword, a few words of admonition, and the accolade." OK. So what does this have to do with Tolkien and his women? AHAHAHAHA I AM SO GLAD YOU ASKED. First of all, let's agree that Tolkien, a medievalist, undoubtedly was aware of all the above. Second, turn with me in your copy of The Lord of the Rings to chapter 6 of The Two Towers, "The King of the Golden Hall", when Theoden and his councillors agree that Eowyn should lead the people while the men are away at war. (This, of course, was something that medieval noblewomen regularly did: one small example is an 1178 letter from a Hospitaller knight serving in the Latin kingdom of Jerusalem which records that before marching out to the battle of Montgisard, "We put the defence of the Tower of David and the whole city in the hands of our women".) But in The Lord of the Rings, there's a little ceremony.

"'Let her be as lord to the Eorlingas, while we are gone.' 'It shall be so,' said Theoden. 'Let the heralds announce to the folk that the Lady Eowyn will lead them!' Then the king sat upon a seat before his doors and Eowyn knelt before him and received from him a sword and a fair corselet."

I YELLED when I realised what I was reading right there. You see, the king doesn't just have the heralds announce that Eowyn is in charge. He gives her weapons.

Theoden makes Eowyn a knight of the Riddermark.

Not only that, but I think this is a huge deal for several reasons. That is, Tolkien knew what he was doing here.

From my reading in medieval history, I'm aware of women choosing to fight and bear arms, as well as becoming military leaders while the men are away at some war or as prisoners. What I haven't seen is women actually receiving knighthood. Anyone could fight as a knight if they could afford the (very pricy) horse and armour, and anyone could lead a nation as long as they were accepted by the leaders. But you just don't see women getting knighted like this.

Tolkien therefore chose to write a medieval-coded society, Rohan, where women arguably had greater equality with men than they did in actual medieval societies.

I think that should tell us something about who Tolkien was as a person and how he viewed women - perhaps he didn't write them with equal parity to men (there are undeniably more prominent male characters in The Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit, at least, than female) but compared to the medieval societies that were his life's work, and arguably even compared to the society he lived in, he was remarkably egalitarian.

I think it should also tell us something about the craft of writing fantasy.

No, you don't have to include gut wrenching misogyny and violence against women in order to write "realistic" medieval-inspired fantasy.

Tolkien's fantasy worlds are DEEPLY informed by medieval history to an extent most laypeople will never fully appreciate. The attitudes, the language, the ABSOLUTELY FLAWLESS use of medieval military tactics...heck, even just the way that people travel long distances on foot...all of it is brilliantly medieval.

The fact that Theoden bestows arms on Eowyn is just one tiny detail that is deeply rooted in medieval history. Even though he's giving those arms to a woman in a fantasy land full of elves and hobbits and wizards, it's still a wonderfully historically accurate detail.

Of course, I've ranted before about how misogyny and sexism wasn't actually as bad in medieval times as a lot of people today think. But from the way SOME fantasy authors talk, you'd think that historical accuracy will disappear in a puff of smoke if every woman in the dragon-infested fantasy land isn't being traumatised on the regular.

Tolkien did better. Be like Tolkien.

#tolkien #middle earth #jrr tolkien #lord of the rings #lotr #the lord of the rings #eowyn #writing fantasy #fantasy #female characters #writing #historical fiction #medieval women #medieval history #medieval #history #womens history

8K notes · View notes

earthtooz · 1 year

Note

second chance romance with sae. write it.

x : WITH(OUT) :*+ﾟ

in which: after a messy breakup with sae, you find yourself waking up next to him two weeks later, this time just more in love.

warnings: 1.8k words, exes to lovers, hurt/comfort, SFW, gn!reader, tooth-rotting fluff with quite a bit of angst, a lot of metaphors here and there i apologise if they don't make sense get on my brainwave (nicely), ooc!sae perhaps uhh lol, bad writing, reblogs appreciated!!

a/n: lets see if tumblr community labels this post... sigh. rip first version u were a champ. this is my official claim to become tumblr's sfw itoshi brothers (separate) writer. i've made progress with rin, it's time to show some (reluctant) love to sae!! i literally only wrote this bc @limitlesshq and i had an agreement.

you wake up due to the rustling beside you, the movement rousing you from your slumber as the world becomes ever so clearer with each millisecond, the drowsy haze wearing off you as you take in your surroundings.

there’s a white ceiling overhead, the mattress beneath you feels like a cloud, and you can’t remember when your sheets turned a shade of gray. no- scratch that, you can’t remember when your mattress became this soft.

hold on.

this wasn’t your room and the mop of magenta hair lying atop your chest is an indicator of such.

you’re in bed with a soccer star who just so happens to be the ex you messily broke up with two weeks ago. he’s wrapped around you like nothing had ever happened; as if you two were still in love and devoted to one another and hadn’t shouted at each other to the point that your throats were sore for a days afterwards.

you needed to get out of here which was something easier said than done. especially when you had itoshi sae lying on top of you, wrapping you in a vice grip as he sunk further and further into your warmth, chest methodically rising up and down. you want to slap him for being so peaceful in this very moment. that should be you but instead, you’re panicking and trying to avoid another messy scene with your ex.

the fact that said-ex was itoshi sae too… goodness what have you gotten yourself into. you should get out of here before it’s too late.

slowly, you begin to shuffle away, trying to pull yourself away from sae’s grasp.

you’re halfway out when you hear the magenta-haired whine quietly, the sound causing you to turn your head and look at him. it’s to your horror that you’re greeted by a pair of hazy, turquoise eyes, still groggily waking up as sae tries to adjust to his bearings. he blinks a few times, waking up a little more with each flutter.

“where are you going?” he asks, voice hoarse from unuse. his arm tightens ever so slightly around you, pulling you back towards him and completely ruining your efforts.

you’re stunned, unsure of how to respond as sae tucks himself into your chest, breathing you in.

you hate the way you feel your heart lurch in your chest, rapidly beating with the urge to be as close as possible to him. this feels like a life you once knew, especially when his fingers start running up and down your spine, nimbly finding their way under your shirt.

“sae,” you breathe out and his ministrations stop, diverting all of his attention upon you. “i have to go.”

he groans his protest, shaking his head. “why?”

“i just have to.”

“no.”

“what?”

“stay.”

“what?”

“did you not hear me? i said stay.”

just to prove his point a little more, he puts even more of his weight on you, tangling his legs with yours as if rooting you to his mattress. ever so demanding, he is.

the breakup was disastrous and entirely hurtful, wrecking you from the inside out when you woke up the next morning registering the previous night. you couldn’t remember the last time you felt so heartbroken and it hurt even more with every trace of sae that remained in your apartment. looking back, perhaps it was a little naive to believe that he was the one for you, that he was your endgame and not simply another lesson to heal from. all that time spent in a relationship, crumbled thanks to an argument that lasted for three hours and ended with a decisive slam of his door.

yet just when you thought you were making process on the journey away from him, sae finds a way to pull you back in.

“i can’t stay,” you whisper, voice already a little shaky.

the magenta-haired looks up at you, apathetic eyes boring into yours. “but why?”

“i just- i just can’t. thank you for letting me stay over but i’m going to go home now-”

fingers thread through yours and sae’s hand pulls yours closer towards him. a pair of warm lips press themself to your skin and linger there as if burning and branding you- all of you, as his.

he then kisses each of your fingers delicately and softly. “don’t go,” he mutters between pecks.

you feel a little breathless. like he’s punched your gut with every piece of gentle affection he plants, twisting the knife he had stabbed in your chest two weeks ago deeper and deeper, reopening the raw wound of hurt and pain with unmatched love.

you need to leave before anything else can happen, before you begin breaking down in front of him.

quickly shuffling away from the athlete, you abruptly pull your hand out of his, throwing the covers off of you. however quick you may have been though, sae is undeniably faster, his hands crossing the distance to pull you back. his strength forces you to sit down once more and you bounce a little from the soft impact. he drapes himself around you again, chin resting on your shoulder.

“let me go,” you plead, putting your hands over his wrists as if trying to pry them off but you feel too much for sae to truly try and resist him. his spell, no matter how hard you try to fight back, is just as potent.

you fear that you may never be immune to his poison.

he begins trailing kisses along your skin, uncharacteristically affectionate. “i can’t,” he begins, voice wavering uncharacteristically, traces of heartbreak evident in his tone. this display of emotion shocks you endlessly and you stop fighting against him, freezing when you feel his breath shudder against your skin.

your heart is thumping heavily, causing your chest to clench.

"stop messing around, we-"

"i'm not messing around just stay," he hushes gently, "please."

you feel the world stop for a second. sae? pleading? he knew how to do that? the prospect of sae beseeching for anything was incredibly unfamiliar and the fact that his voice cracked merely proves how entirely unfamiliar the word was in his vocabulary.

the love you feel for him will choke you before heartache does. unbeknownst to you, a tear begins sliding down your cheek and you don’t feel it until it’s halfway down.

“hey, hey, hey,” the magenta-haired mumbles, catching the tear with his thumb. “don’t cry.”

he sounds so tender and doting it hurts. there’s so much love in the way he’s holding you, pressing himself closer to you with each minute as if he hates the idea of being too far away from you, as if he was trying to make sure that you were still the same love of his life from before he hurt you tremendously, as if he was committing you to memory before he does lose you forever.

but he doesn’t want that. he wants to stay with you. sae doesn’t think he can handle another day without you, that’s why he’s so stubborn to keep you here; to put you under his spell again so that you could feel an ounce of the love he has stored for you. so that this love has somewhere to go before it inevitably ruins him, punishing him for being so stupid.

“i’m sorry,” whispers sae hurriedly. “i’m sorry, i’m so sorry pretty, don’t cry.”

glancing away from him, you wipe away any remaining tears, inhaling deeply as to try and collect yourself with whatever willpower you had left.

"i need to leave," you murmur, not entirely meaning it.

"no you don't," he answers, entirely meaning it. "just stay until breakfast or something."

wordlessly, you fall back in his grasp, leaning into the athlete when you feel rapid beating against your arm. that’s when you realise that it wasn’t your racing heart… it was his.

giving in to his desires, you tuck your legs back up on the bed and he manoeuvres you, practically cradling you whilst you find solace in his neck with your arms wrapped around his torso. here, you feel whole again.

you’ve lived life with sae and without sae and you now know well enough to prefer the former. something tells you he feels the same too.

“are you going to stay for breakfast?” he asks after a few minutes of simply soaking up the other’s presence. glancing up at him, his expression remains beautifully neutral, illuminated perfectly by the bright morning light that seeps through his windows. he’s radiant, gorgeous as ever.

you hum against his skin. “i’m not too sure. i was going to leave before breakfast.”

“let’s go back to sleep then. i’m not hungry anymore.”

amused by his request, you agree nonetheless and sae is able to move the both of you around to the same positions you had woken up in with you on your back and him on top of you. the soccer player then pulls you closer and throws his leg over your hips- something he does to keep you in your spot so you won’t slip away from him again.

you won’t. you don’t want to leave and live a life without him.

“are we back together?” you hesitantly ask. the question floats into the tranquil air, afraid to break whatever quiet, ecstatic haze you were both in but you need to know.

“will you take me back?” the soccer player counters, surprisingly shy and unsure, so unlike the arrogant sae you’re used to. he’s putting all the cards on your table despite knowing what he wants because although he wants to be with you for eternity and a little longer after that, it’s up to you to decide whether or not he deserves such a paradise.

sae can only hope you’re merciful.

“i want to. i miss ‘us’, i miss you.”

he immediately feels a heavy weight lift itself off and the exhale the magenta-haired lets out communicates his magnitude of relief. fate has saved him today.

“good.” is all he says as your hands rise to the nape of his neck, playing with the hair there. “be here when i wake up.”

“so demanding,” you joke with a smile, “but okay.”

as sae dozes off once more, you take the time to scan around his room once more whilst trying to lull yourself into dreamland as well.

his decor had always been rather plain and it didn’t change until you started dating. remnants of you have been lingering around his place and you’re surprised he didn’t get rid of them the night you left out of rage. a little nanodroid that you gave him of a character from an anime you both like sits on his shelf, there’s that little fake plant on his desk, and there are still photos of you two on his dresser.

he used to only have one pillow and the only reason he bought more was so you could sleep over comfortably. you don’t think too hard about the lingering smell of sae’s shampoo on the pillows that you had previously claimed as ‘yours’.

shifting a little so that you were comfortable, you gaze up at sae’s ceilings once more. a gentle smile makes its way to your face before you doze off peacefully knowing that two hearts have found their way back home.

#tumblr will di3 by my blade.#sae x reader #blue lock x reader #itoshi sae x reader #itoshi sae #bllk x reader #blue lock fluff #sae fluff #itoshi sae fluff #sae itoshi x reader #blue lock

5K notes · View notes

eff4freddie · 3 days

Text

Free

No Outbreak AU!Joel Miller x AFAB Reader

Words: 7.7k of basically porn lols

You confess to Joel one of your filthiest fantasies, something you've never told anyone before. He's a good man, but you underestimate just how much he will do for you.

Warnings: Minors DNI. Explicit. Free use. Public sex. Praise kink. Beer bottles and dirty dive bars. Tiny lil breeding kink if you squint. Like seriously guys, this is filth. I've gone a little shy of myself? Like wow we are learning some things about Freddie tonight.

Like most wildfires, neither of you were sure where the first ember landed. Joel preferred dive bars, liked the blues on the juke box, the fact that he would wear his flannel and jeans flecked with paint and wood shaving and no one would notice. He knew you preferred the fancier places, occasionally would make an effort, but knew you also didn’t mind sometimes slumming it with him, sometimes just leaning back into a booth and letting the neon red light leech over your skin. You’d never admit it to his face, never give him the power over you, but you didn’t really care where you were so long as it was with him.

You liked it when he lifted the beer to his lips, saw his throat work to swallow it down. It reminded him of the times you’d made him gasp, groan, as he worked his cock into your throat. It felt like an intimate thing, the chords of his muscles working just right there under his skin. Sometimes you reached out, ran your fingertips under his collar, made him shiver. He’d grab your fingers, put them on his lips, press a kiss to them, tell you off for lettin’ ‘em get so cold in the night.

On these nights, when Sarah’s with the sitter and you’re winding down from a long week of work, its these nights when Joel takes you out in a pretty dress or a shirt skirt, waits in his truck while you slip your panties off and puts them in his pocket, helps you down to the street with a hand gripping the back of your thigh. It’s these nights, when Joel’s worked up from the job site, when he’s stressed about Sarah’s teenage rebellious phase, when it’s been a while between drinks, that he’s handsy with you, pushing himself into a booth in a dark corner and pulling you down on top of him, perched in his lap with your legs spread over his so that he can face you out to the bar, open your thighs just as someone walks past, lets you feel the breeze on your cunt while you hide your face in his neck and burn, either from embarrassment or from how wet he’s made you, showing you off like this, you tucking his hands under your bottom to stop him slipping them into you while you try to concentrate on the specials board.

‘Shy, baby?’ he’d tease you, pulling your hair off your neck to bite at your jaw line, whisper dirty nonsense into your ear while you fought for some kind of decency, some way to cover yourself up, at least until you’d finished your first drink.

It was one of those nights, when he’d finally relented and let you eat your meal in peace, that he’d got it out of you, the confession that set the whole thing in motion, the idea taking root in Joel’s mind so swiftly that the tendrils of it spilt into his veins, spiralled down to his cock, made him harder than he ever remembered being.

You knew this about Joel. That it wasn’t a jealousy streak, or an insecurity, that it wasn’t even so much of an exhibitionist streak for him. It was just that he liked showing you off, liked knowing that of all the men in the room who were undressin’ ya, wantin’ ya, he was the one with his fingers buried in your cunt while you struggled to act like nothing untoward was going on. He liked the power of it, the power he had over you, and you wondered sometimes how far he would go with it. What would happen if you were ever found bent over with his cock buried inside you, his hands on your hips pulling you back into him, his teeth bared and his sweat dripping onto your back. You knew without having experienced anything like it that he would probably keep going, that he would like the watching. That he’d probably goad the audience into coming closer, commentate for them, let them see what he, and only he, was wringing from your body as it clamped down around him. The thought of it, the image of it in your mind, kept you awake at night, your cunt throbbing. You felt the pride in it, you supposed, that he desired you so dearly he wanted to show off that he had you.

You knew all of that when you confessed to him what you were thinking about, three beers in and his hand on your knee, rubbing little circles with his thumb, sliding his whole hand over your skin and back down again, not even noticing he was doing it. You watched his pupils blow wide, the far away look come over him as he imagined what you were describing, the way he swallowed, hard.

‘You want that right now?’ he asked, and he looked like a kid on Christmas morning, not quite believing he’d actually been given the bike he’d asked Santa for.

‘No, not right now, probably not ever,’ you said, flopping your head onto his shoulder and listening to his quickening heartbeat in his neck. ‘Just like to think about it, is all.’

‘Baby you can’t say that to me and not…you have to know what you’re doing to me,’ he all but whined, and you giggled.

‘You wouldn’t mind it?’ you asked, pulling up to look at him again, study his eyes, knowing that you were way out on a limb now. You saw not an ounce of hesitation on his face.

He barely got you out of the place before he had you bent over the bed of his truck, your hands clawing for purchase on the chrome as he drilled into you right there in the parking lot, your face buried in your arms in the hope that the darkness of the night was protecting you both from being arrested.

He didn’t bring it up again for another few weeks, both of your jobs getting too busy, Sarah getting too demanding and fourteen, the world conspiring against you to rob you both of your dirty Fridays. Joel was getting pent up, the idea of it bouncing around his mind too often for him to concentrate, but his bones were sore of a nighttime, and he only had the energy to relieve himself in the shower before climbing into bed and switching off the light. You didn’t mind it, had been together a long enough time now to know there would be ebbs and flows. He held you as you slept, he kissed you in the morning even as you tried to shove him off and scold him for his morning breath, promised to take you out when your schedules were clear and knew that he meant it, that he was a man of his sometimes limited words. Sometimes it just went with the territory of wanting him always, you knew, that there would be aching times of not-having.

So you were surprised when you came home from dropping Sarah off at her friend’s for the night and saw his truck in the drive, expecting him much later if the week had been anything to go by. You heard him in the shower and figured he was washing off another stressful day, intending to leave him to it, except that for a man with basically one good ear he was surprisingly adept at knowing where you were at all times, and he emerged, towel wrapped loose around his hips and dripping onto the carpet, to pull you by the arm in with him. You just managed to strip out of your jeans before he was on you, pulling your wet bra off your skin, slipping your underwear down your legs and throwing them into the sink.

‘Won’t need those tonight,’ he said, simply, as you gawped at him, the water running off his shoulders and into your eyes. You leant forward, resting your forehead on his chest. It had been an intense few minutes.

‘Where we going tonight?’ you asked, and he didn’t answer, instead pulling back from you and bending to lift your leg up, hooking it over his elbow. You leant back onto the cold shower tile, the water beating down on your chest, as he dripped your favourite body wash onto a loofah and ran it tightly over your skin, crouching down and slipping your leg over his shoulder to run it up and down the inside of your thighs, each time his fingers sweeping closer to your cunt, the heat and steam of the shower making you light headed as your clit throbbed for him. He was teasing you, working you up and you knew he was going to leave you like this, that this is how the whole night would go unless you did something about it, pushing yourself off the wall and crashing your pussy into his mouth, the sharp angle of his nose landing hard on your clit as he gasped.

It hadn’t been the plan but he wasn’t above improvising. In his head he was just going to tease you a little, make sure that you were up for what he had planned, but this was just as good, just as effective. He was careful not to let you come, careful to keep you right on the edge, the suds and the water running over his mouth and nose as he lathed at your clit, ran his tongue up and down your seam, not letting it dip inside where he knew you wanted him. He looked up your body, watched your hips shudder and the muscles in your tummy roll and contract as you tried to draw him in deeper. He grinned, a huffled little laugh into your pussy. You were furious when he drew back, wet hands trying to grip his hair and keep him there. He held you to him, wrapped you warm up in a towel even as you cussed him out, madder than a barn cat at having had your pleasure interrupted. You were perfect like this, he thought, watching you huff, wild for him. He reminded you to dress for a night out. He made sure your underwear stayed in the sink.

You were still pissed, but your curiosity got the better of you when he missed the turn off for the bar, heading instead over the railway track and further out of town. If you had been speaking to him you would have asked where he was taking you, but you were refusing to let him off the hook for his cruelty in the shower. Twenty minutes later, when he pulled up to a bar you’d never seen before, a couple of dirt bikes parked out the front and a few trucks in the lot out the back, he gave you a little tap on the knee. You turned to him, eyebrows shooting up.

‘Figured we better go where no one knows us, baby,’ he said, and he was grinning at you in a way that made your belly flip, an electric bolt shooting straight between your legs.

‘What are you up to, Miller?’ you asked, as he leant over and undid your seatbelt. He made you jump down out of the truck yourself, striding as he was towards the bar. The bright red OPEN sign buzzed over the door, the sound of it reverberating into the air beneath it where you stood, your nerves jangling in tune. Surely he wouldn’t, you thought. You pulled your short skirt down, worried now that without underwear a strong breeze would expose you to anyone passing by. He held the door open for you, darkness behind him and the sounds of clinking glass, tinny guitar over a shitty sound system, chatter and drunkenness.

‘Trust me, baby,’ he said, and you did, you knew you did. He held his hand out to you. You took it.

Once inside you could see a bit better. The bar itself was quite small, a couple of men sitting around it drinking beers and whiskeys. There was a row of booths under the blacked-out windows, a pool table in one corner. By the bar a hallway led down to the bathrooms. You shivered when you saw it.

He led you by the hand to the corner of the bar right next to the hallway, the single stool.

‘This is where I’ll be,’ he said to you, putting your hand on the bar to feel how solid it was, that it was real and that this was happening, to ground you. He pulled you forward, five or maybe six paces down the hallway, to a piece of wall right by the men’s bathroom. He backed you up against it, letting you glance over his shoulder to the stool where you had just been.

‘This is where you’ll be,’ he said to you, his voice heavy and thick and you recognised the want in it, the need. He spun you around, kicking your feet apart and holding your hands up above your head. You tried to breathe but couldn’t seem to get enough air, tried to expand your lungs but you could only puff and gasp, your stomach doing somersaults as he positioned you. He pushed them into the wall, the two of them held together under his palm.

‘You don’t move them from here,’ he said, stern and calm at the same time. ‘You look over your shoulder you’ll see me, but you don’t move these from here. Nod so I know you heard me, baby,’ he said. You nodded your head, your nose almost grazing the plaster of the filthy wall. He pulled your hips out so that you bowed slightly, your arse sticking back behind you. He ran his hands over the back of your thighs, leant down to cup your bottom as he ran his hands up and over, pulled your skirt over your hips.

Your heart was racing so hard you could feel it in your knees, your whole body thrumming as he exposed you to the room. You heard no shouts or protests, your eyes slammed shut and your face buried in your arm. You could feel cool air on your skin as he moved away from you, and you yelped, a bolt of panic shooting through you. You lifted your head and he was there again, his arms over yours as he covered you, brought his mouth down to your ear.

‘You can do this baby, I’m right here,’ he said, and you felt like you might scream or cry or come, you weren’t sure which or what you preferred, your mind scrambling to keep up with the fact that he was letting you play out one of your dirtiest fantasies, that he trusted you this much, that you knew he would keep you safe, would stop it from going too far if you needed him to, that you wanted this, that you wanted to give it to him.

‘Two rules,’ he said, when he could tell you were coming back into yourself, that you were listening. ‘Hands stay on the wall,’ he said, his voice rough and low as he stopped to chew on your earlobe. You could feel you were wet, could feel you were shivering. You hadn’t had a good look at the men in the bar. You weren’t sure if you were glad of it.

‘Second rule,’ he said, and now he was running his hands over your hips and down your belly to rub little circles into your clit. You shuddered, pushing back against him, felt that he was throbbing. ‘No coming ‘til I say so,’ he said, and then he was gone, your body cold and aching where he had just been.

You lifted your head and turned to watch him over your shoulder, your spine twisting to see without moving your hands, now resting palm-down above your head. You saw him calmly order a beer from the bartender, who didn’t bat an eyelid at you standing, skirt over your arse and bent at the waist, the seam of your pussy exposed to the entire bar, your thighs quivering as you felt the slick start to collect on your skin.

All you could do was try and breathe. Try to keep your knees from shaking, your legs from collapsing underneath you. You turned your face back to the wall, your nose resting on the brick, as you gulped down air and tried to swallow on a bone-dry throat. Maybe nothing would happen if you just stayed completely still, you thought. Wasn’t that how they survived the dinosaurs in Jurassic Park?

You could hear the toilet in the men’s room flushing, the tap running as the dude, mercifully, washed his hands. You knew you were seconds away from being confronted, that he would have to squeeze past you if he wanted to get back to his table, that maybe the others wouldn’t have seen you tucked away as you were down the side of the bar, but not now, not where Joel had positioned you. You closed your eyes, the humiliation of it mixing with heat in your cunt, and you couldn’t decide what you wanted to happen, couldn’t quiet your mind enough other than to count backwards from 10 and try to force your lungs to work.

10. You heard the door swing open, the rush of air ruffling the skirt over your lower back.

9. Footsteps striding out of the bathroom, stopping abruptly.

8. A short, sharp exhale of breath. A ‘what the fuck?’. Surprised, but not angry.

7. A long, heavy second or two of silence.

6. A slower footstep. Another. Towards you.

5. A hand, warm and foreign, on your hip as he moved behind you.

4. The thunderous sound of your voice in your head telling you to just stay still, stay still, stay still.

3. A nervous little laugh as he slid behind you, his hips to yours to get past you on the wall. His hand still on your hip but gripping, fingers squeezing at your flesh.

2. A soft swipe of your cunt as he clears you, his fingers gently fluttering over your seam as you stand, exposed and wet.

1. Your gasp, all of the breath you had been trying to get suddenly sweeping into your lungs, a needy little whine on the exhale, a shiver.

And a few moments later, laughter, a group of men on the other side of the bar, a hint of disbelief in it, a hint of awe. You blinked your eyes open, your body quaking. You couldn’t turn your head, wouldn’t turn your head to Joel, but you knew he was there, knew he was watching you quiver, knew he would stop it if it got too much, that you wouldn’t have to ask him, that he would just know. You felt heat on your cheeks and a twist of something in your gut. For a moment you wanted to skip forward to the aftermath, to Joel holding you in bed and loving on you, recounting the events that hadn’t even unfolded yet as you felt the heat of his skin and the strength of his arms, the muscles ripping under his skin as he kissed the shell of your ear and let you drift to sleep, wrapped up in him.

Joel gripped the neck of his beer bottle harder than he intended, barely registering the cold on his hands. It had been his idea to set this up, he knew that, had rented the whole place out to make a safe space for you to play, had vetted the guys from the job site, had been careful to select the ones he knew would treat you right. Still, though. Still, he could see you were shaking, trying so hard to be good for him with your hands pushed into the wall, and he doubted for just a second, wondered whether he should call it. He could see you were slick between your thighs, could hear that you were breathing heavy. But he’d be lying to himself if he didn’t feel a surge of something a little like jealousy at the way the eyes of the guys travelled over your delicious curves, curves he had – up until this moment – reserved the sole right to traverse. He wondered if the guys would be able to stick to the limits once they had you under them. He was ready to pull you out of there the moment something got out of hand, but he worried, now and for the first time, that by then it could be too late.

You swallowed over your dry throat. You were trying to stay in your body, to close your eyes and give yourself over to it, but you were still struggling to quiet your mind. This is what you had wanted, and you knew Joel would never push you further than what you had told him you would go. You knew that. But did the other guys? You considered for a moment, the thought occurring to you like a lightning bolt, that Joel had worked you up in the shower precisely so that you would be horny enough not to run for the door the second he tried this. You almost wanted to laugh, except that you were too scared to lest you lose all control.

There were more footsteps, coming towards you from beside the bar, and you swore you heard a group of men cheering the man on. He wasn’t hesitating, whoever this stranger in the bar was, probably having spotted you from across the room. You kept your eyes on the floor, your head hanging low between your shoulders. From this angle you could see your ankles, the heels Joel insisted you wear even though you could barely stand in them, realising now why he wanted you off balance, why he wanted you unable to run for the door. Two pairs of trainers appeared between your ankles, a rough hand coming down to rest on your left butt cheek. It wasn’t a slap, wasn’t even a particularly hard grope, but you whimpered anyway, slammed your eyes shut and immediately wondered if it was better to look or not.

And throughout it all your pussy throbbed. Even if you were in turmoil it knew exactly what it wanted, was hungry for the attention and the desires of all these men, was having a fucking field day knowing Joel was watching you, wanting you, from across the room.

The man behind you slid two fingers over your seam, his breath on the back of your neck as he leaned over you. You shuddered, his skin rougher than Joels, as he prodded at you, eased your lips open and ran his fingers up along the flesh there. You realised he was collecting your slick, felt him pull away and his lips smack around his hand as he, presumably, sucked you off his skin.

‘Jesus, boys,’ he called to his friends over the other side of the room, and you startled. ‘She’s fuckin’ sweeter than honey and dripping onto the floor.’

Under the cheers you swore you heard Joel chuckle, and you shivered. You wanted this man to touch you again, almost whined when he instead moved back to his table. You were sweating, could feel that the small of your back was damp, felt like you had a fever, some kind of delirium, the pulsing of your cunt so intense it almost hurt.

You heard more shuffling footsteps, now, three or four sets, as you realised the table of friends were making their way over to you. You shivered, turned a wild eye over to Joel, who was sipping at his beer and watching you, nodding gently at you to keep you there. You kept your hands on the wall. You wanted to be his good girl.

‘And we can touch her wherever?’ a guy was saying, and you moved your face back to the wall, arching your back slightly, practically waving your cunt in the air.

‘She ain’t protesting,’ a voice said, and you recognised it as the man who had just touched you. To demonstrate his point, he extended his hand to your face and stuck two of his fingers in your mouth, and you sucked them willingly, tasting a hint of yourself on him. You felt your eyes close all by themselves, smiling as the man gasped.

‘Holy shit,’ someone else commented, and you were slapped hard on your arse then, the sting of it making you whine. A finger quickly followed, probing you open again, your copious amounts of slick easing the entry.

‘Like this?’ the voice said, and you realised he was asking you a question, and you nodded your head. ‘Yeah, you like this,’ the voice affirmed, a finger finally sinking into your cunt. You felt yourself spasm, throwing your head back and groaning, your hips rolling all on their own.

‘Tight little thing,’ someone said, and you grunted as another finger was added. You were being pushed into the wall, your face lying on the brick, your hands still planted above your head.

‘Ease it on her a little,’ a third voice said, and you felt another hand snake around you, this one cold on the fingertips, as it slid over your clit.

‘Oh!’ you gasped, the pleasure of it shooting through you. You could feel that you were clamping down on the fingers inside you.

‘She liked that a lot,’ the man beside you said, and he pulled his fingers from your mouth and dropped them to your tit, rubbing the nipple through the barely-there shirt Joel had picked out for you tonight.

You were whimpering, gradually losing control of the sounds you were making, of your little cries into the noise of the bar, and you could hear them snickering, laughing at your pleasurable distress, at the ache and thrum of your cunt, at the way you were so wet you were leaking down your thighs.

You were losing your grip on your thoughts, felt them slipping through you, unable to catch them as they dripped past. From somewhere a memory stirred itself up, sitting on Joel’s lap in the bar you always go to, his hand pushing on your clit from outside your panties as he shielded you from the rest of the patrons, whispering into his ear that you fantasised about being used by strange men, about being set up by him to be groped and fondled, to be watched as men took their pleasure from you, to have to wait for them to be done with you, to be bored of you, before you were released. ‘But they never get bored of me, not really. Sometimes they let me rest for a bit. But they want me that bad, they can’t stop.’

‘How long’s this all take, when you think about it?’ he asked, feeling even through the fabric of your underwear that you were dripping.

‘Sometimes hours,’ you whimpered, breathless just at the thought of it. ‘I’m free for their use, for hours. For hours,’ you said.

Now, with your hands against the wall in just the position you had described to Joel weeks before, you bite your lip. God, how long does he plan on keeping you here? You want to come already, want to push down on the hands behind you and flood them with your spend.

These men, though, these three, are just teasing you, and right when you start to rock your hips they pull away again.

‘Unreal,’ one of them says, as if you’re a work of art hanging on a wall in a museum, and you want to howl at them, want to grab their hands and put them back on your skin. You resist the urge, biting down hard on your bottom lip. Joel said no coming, so maybe you should be grateful. Even if you’re now quivering. Even if you’re not sure your legs will keep you standing.

You take a couple of shaky breaths, coming down enough to notice that your shoulders are starting to ache. You roll them, careful to keep your palms connected to the surface, trying to push the hair out of your eyes by running your face along your forearms.

You’re not sure how long you stand there. You try counting the songs on the jukebox but they all sound the same to you, and it’s hard to decipher when one stops and the next one begins. Every now and again there’s the sound of glasses being dumped into the trough behind the bar, clinking ice and peels of male laughter. Once or twice, someone walks past on the way to the bathroom and pat you on the arse, put a hand on your lower back and bend you further, pushing you until your sweet little cunt is more fully exposed. But no one is bold enough to touch, no one is as forward as the three men from before, and you’re feeling a twinge of disappointment settling in between the arousal and the shock. These scant touches aren’t nearly enough, and you realise that you’re pining for someone to come and tease you, play with your cunt or your tits until you’re gasping.

You chance a look over your shoulder at Joel and see that he’s turned away from you a little, his beer in his hand while he chats to a man beside him, and his casual disregard for your predicament infuriates you as much as it sends bolts of heat to your cunt.

You’re being ignored, you realise, and it makes your tummy do weird flips you don’t fully understand. You start to arch your back again, weave your hips in slow circles in the air. You don’t have a lot of mental capacity in this moment, so it’s only later you will consider that Joel had made sure you would beg for any attention, knew that you would be outraged at not being the centre of attention in this moment, that you would reach a new level of depraved heat just to get the eyes back on you. It had maybe been half an hour and you’d gone from praying no one would see you if you didn’t move, to trying to scent the air around you with your cunt, luring them to you like a siren on a rocky cove.

Now, though, now all you want is for someone to touch you, someone to ease their hands onto your skin and feel the heat of it, coo at how mean your man is, how silly for letting a pretty little thing like you out of his clutches. You realise you allowed to close your legs and you do, wrapping one foot behind your ankle so you can rub your thighs together. The skin slides easily and you sigh, gently.

You’re wrapped up in it, your ears tuning out the noise around you to properly concentrate on the thrum of your cunt, so you don’t realise there’s someone behind you until they’re basically on you, kicking your legs apart and arching you back again.

‘Naughty girl,’ the voice says, and it’s not Joel and you’re marginally disappointed but also it means this isn’t over yet, and you grin back at him.

‘Not sorry,’ you say, and you’re pulled back then, almost bent over in a right angle as your hands slide down the wall but stay on it, your arms now covering your ears.

You just barely hear a grunt, then something cold and hard is pushing at your lips for entry, and you realise that you are being fucked in a strange bar with a beer bottle in front of however many strange men, and you groan at the insanity of it, at the filth. He’s twisting it, his other hand finding your clit, and you’re throwing your head back now, your hair falling down your back as you arch, the glass so smooth and cold inside you that you wonder for a second if you’ve fogged it up. Its thrust into you three, four, five times before the man slips it from you, and you hear him take a swig of it, the taste of your cunt on the glass as he lifts it to his lips. He groans, rests a hand on the small of your back as he sips.

‘Sweet?’ someone calls out, and you hear him laugh.

‘Heaven,’ he says. ‘Come get yours before I ruin her.’

You hear chairs being pushed back, and looking down at the floor you count seven pairs of shoes assembling in a line behind you. You can hear some guys are still playing pool, the crack of the 8 ball as someone breaks. You look for Joel’s along the line of shoes behind you. You don’t see them.

There are fingers in your cunt again, two or maybe three, you’re not sure, and you have moved up a little, your tits pressed to the wall as they grope you from behind. It’s delicious, exactly the right pressure in exactly the right spot, as if someone has given them all a manual to your body. Someone lifts your leg under the knee and twists your hip so that you can rest your foot on his thigh, and then you’re even more open, even more exposed. You close your eyes, your spine twisting to keep both arms on the wall, but in this position one man can get underneath you on his knees and lick up into you and you gasp at the feeling of it, the warmth of his tongue compared to the cold of the bottle, and you’re really sweating now, want to rip your top off and pull the skirt from around your waist just to get it out of the way, but someone is using it to hold you still, the fabric bunched under your tits so that you won’t fall. With one mouth on your cunt someone else is behind you with his fingers inside you, and someone else is holding your tits in his hands, his thumbs squeezing and rubbing at your nipples.

Over your shoulder you can hear someone commentating for his friend. ‘Fuck, you thought she was wet before,’ they’re saying, and the way they’re talking about you like you’re not there, like you’re an object for them to play with, a doll, a toy, has you bucking against the tongue on your clit, against the fingers inside you. They’re setting you on fire, the embers catching on gasoline. It’s heaven and its torture and its so, so much.

Fuck, you’re going to come and you can’t stop it. But you have to, you promised Joel. You’re almost wailing now, trying to get the feeling out in some way so that you won’t tip over the edge, and the guys are laughing.

‘Listen to her hollerin’,’ someone says, and you can’t keep your eyes closed anymore, open them to see a bunch of men standing around you, all of them palming their cocks through their pants, as one man crouches under your form, his shoulder pushed hard into the wall to get under you. You can’t see the man behind you but one is off to the side, his eyes on our cunt as he bounces your tits in his hands.

‘Oh, hey beautiful,’ one of the men watching says when he catches your eye. He’s handsome, they all are, you realise, and they’re all in their early 30s and they’re all incredibly fit, and if you had any presence of mind in this moment you would consider that this was an odd coincidence, but as it is right now you just want their cocks in your mouth, want their come dripping over your tits and your face. The one behind you, with his fingers buried in your cunt, is grinding against you and for a deranged moment you consider freeing him from his pants and slipping him inside you.

‘She’s so fucked out,’ someone laughs, and you’re gasping, crying out as if that will stop you from coming, but it’s not enough, the cliff is right there. You’re rolling your hips, your mouth agape and gasping when you’re not howling for relief.

‘Like a bitch in heat,’ someone says. ‘Hey, tag out.’

All of them stop, hold you steady for a second. You’re panting, your legs weak as you lean your weight on the wall. You can feel yourself receding from the cliff again, can feel the throb in your cunt easing off just enough that you can think. Your leg is dropped back to the floor, and you are jostled back into position as the men rearrange themselves, and you realise they’re taking turns using you. Even without their hands on you, the thought alone could make you come. You want to turn your head to look for Joel but they’re crowding around you, and for a second there’s a drop of panic in your belly before it’s replaced again with wildfire. You know he’s there. Know he’ll stop it if he needs to.

‘Holy shit, she’s still so tight,’ someone says, slipping back into place in your cunt, and another man laughs. ‘Get the bottle again, stretch her out.’ Their hands are probing again, a man finger-fucking you from the front now, another holding you up from behind as they twist you off to the side. They’re all staring at your cunt, at where you’re spreading open to take them, marvelling at the intrusion.

‘How many fingers you reckon she can take?’ someone asks, and you buck your hips away from it, away from how obscene it is, from how irrevocably turned on in makes you.

‘Joel said not to mark her,’ someone says, and much later you will recall this, recognise this as the moment you might have realised he had set all of it up, including who these men were. As it was you were too busy trying to quell the rushing bliss thundering through you, trying to hold back the cracking dam with your pinkie finger and good will.

‘Scoot over, then,’ someone says, and you are moved again, your legs opened up a little further so that two hands can be inside you at once, their fingers moving just out of sequence enough that they rub at different speeds, forming a relentless piston, a wave of pleasure that’s going to drag you under, fill your lungs.

You can’t take it. Your eyes are blurring from unshed tears, the respite from moments ago disappearing under the weight of the bodies covering you. Are your hands still on the wall? You open your eyes a crack to check. You want them to throw you over their shoulders and slip their cocks inside you, one in front and one behind. You want to roll on the floor with them, have them line up and sink yourself down on them one by one like some kind of deranged Goldilocks. You want every last one of them to come on you, in you, to breed you, to make you theirs.

You can feel your back arching, can feel that you’re rearing up again, the pleasure twisting up your spine and elongating it, your head pulling hard up and away from your shoulders. You’re holding your breath, trying to keep the orgasm away, but it’s bolting up on you.

‘I can’t, I can’t,’ you’re saying, and you’re not even sure what you can’t do exactly. Can’t hold it back, can’t take anymore, can’t stop. Can’t come like this, not allowed to. Joel’s good girl.

‘Hey!’ a voice booms from the bar and you recognise it immediately, Joel standing up and moving towards you. He’s seen you struggling, has seen your hips rolling and heard your wails as you tried to hold back for him. ‘I said no comin’!’ he bellows, and you groan. Your knight in shining armour has arrived just to keep fucking torturing you.

‘Joel!’ you cry, whine, nearly in tears for the need of him. Suddenly you don’t want any of these guys, you just want him, want his smell and the sweet softness of his flannel, want his eyes on you and his whispers in your ear. Want his cock inside you, his come claiming you from within. He’s shouldering his way to you, pushing the guys out of the way, and then he’s with you, your heart racing as his hands are on your shoulders, turning you back to the wall.

‘So good f’me, baby, I know, I know,’ he’s soothing you and you realise you’re sobbing, your breaths coming in deep huffs.

‘Please, please,’ you’re calling for him, and you feel his arm around your waist, feel him scrabbling around to undo his belt and pull down his fly, at the same time as he’s lifting you up and pulling you down on his cock, the fit of him so perfect inside you, his skin inside yours. The guys are watching and you don’t care, because finally he’s with you again, finally he’s the right one, and you’re groaning and gasping, calling his name as he whispers filth in your ear.

‘None of these men get your come,’ he’s saying, ‘none of these guys. Just me that makes ya come, ya hear me?’ and you’re nodding.

‘I want you to make me come, Joel. Only you, only you.’

‘Can feel you grippin’ me, baby,’ he’s babbling, and he’s not sure he’s ever been so hard. He was so patient, watching the guys take you apart bit by bit, until your eyes were unfocussed and your mouth was hanging open, gasping and trying so hard to catch your breath. He could see it in the strain of your muscles, in the way you were panting and hollerin’, that you were holding off for him, that you were keeping yourself sweet and well behaved out of love for him, out of desire, and despite all the other men in the room that wanted you he knew in that moment you were his, that you were his good girl, his, his, his.

It hadn’t been his plan to fuck you like this, but he couldn’t help himself when he heard you callin’ for him. He’d thought he’d just let you come on their hands or their faces, or that you would eventually break and he’d get to slap your arse a little as punishment, but not that you would nearly snap every bone in your body, let your sinew scream and strain, just to stay his good girl.

He surges forward, gripping you to him with one arm, and raises his other hand to cover yours, still pushing into the wall of the bar. He can feel that the skin is ragged underneath, that the exposed brick has grazed you from your effort of keeping your hands there, and he resolves to bathe you in warm water and lick every inch of broken skin the moment he gets you home.

But not yet. Right now, he’s pushing himself further inside you, lifting you up a little so that you’re just on your tippy toes on the floor, balancing on his cock so he can get even deeper inside. You’re keening, your whole body shaking, and you’re not sure you’re going to survive this but you really, really don’t mind going out this way.

You don’t even have words. You can barely get air. You just entwine your fingers with Joels’ where he holds your hands to the wall, tuck your chin to your chest and howl, the orgasm crashing over you and rolling almost immediately into another one, Joel behind you and fucking up into you while you know you still have an audience, while they’re coming onto the floor at your feet, jerking it to the idea of them being the ones to be inside you, of their cocks splitting you open and feeling your cunt milk them dry. You don’t care about any of them, don’t care that they want you so much they’ll settle for their own fists, because all you want is this man, this one inside you and coming deep into your cunt, this one who loves you, who carries you now in his arms with warmth and strength, who is holding you up as he ruts his spend into you, as he gasps and cries out for you, in this very fucking public dive bar just off the highway, where you know you can never step foot again.

He doesn’t let you sink to the floor, no matter how badly your legs want to give out on you, but is instead wrapping his hands under your knees, under your arms and lifting you to him.

‘Dirty down there, baby,’ he says, and you open one eye to see the streams of come decorating where you were just standing. The men have all disappeared, knowing that the fun is over, and Joel has wrapped his coat around you at some point, and your muscles are loose and stretched and shaking, suddenly cold from the chill of your sweat in the open air. You tuck your head under his chin, listen to the way he grunts, quietly, when he pushes open the door with his shoulder and carries you to the car. You feel him drop you into the passenger seat of the truck, feel him put the seatbelt on you and turn the heater up as soon as the engine starts.

You can’t move, your whole body spent. You realise by how dark the night is outside the car window that it has been hours. That he has given you everything you asked for, and then just a little bit more. You crack one eye open to watch him as he drives, the streetlights strobing over his face, the scruff on his cheeks, the pointed angle of his nose, the greys appearing by the day in his hair.

You feel your eyes drift shut again, the heat of the car and the warmth of his jacket soothing you down to sleep. He has given you something you only ever dreamed about, something you never even hoped to one day have. You don’t mean the guys in the bar.

Tag list:

@kyloispunk

@604to647

#joel miller #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfic #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal fic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader

471 notes · View notes

bi-writes · 2 months

Text

you get into big trouble, and you must pay the price. but bunnies should be terrified, and you are not.

mercenary!ghost x fem!reader (part 3/?)

notes about reader: she's curvy !!!! and she knows it.

cw: this is not a healthy relationship (you're both fucking insane), mature language and content, suggestive language and content, dark!ghost, mean!ghost, toxic!ghost, possessive + protective!ghost, kissing through the mask, mentions/depictions of violence + gore, innocence kink, corruption kink, size kink (reader is described as much smaller than ghost, can be easily manhandled by him), ghost is bIG, mentions of ghost's canon trauma, mw3 spoilers, fem!receiving touching + a little oral (18+), unprotected piv

his phone pings. he turns it over, narrowing his eyes at the text on the screen.

🐰: made some cookies. come over?

he runs his tongue over his teeth, clicking it lowly before leaning back in his chair. his ass hurts; he's been sitting here for hours, watching a dark window do nothing for hours.

💀: Working.

🐰: i have a surprise for you !!!

💀: Later.

for a moment, he thinks he should be nicer. give his puppy a bone. tell her he misses the taste of her pretty pussy, that he can still smell her on the mask he hasn't washed. and this is true, he knows it; he aches to go back to where she lives. he wants to see her again. put his dirty, gloved fingers into her mouth and watch her cry, soak her soft panties again, steal them, watch her cry harder when he finally gives her what she wants.

the most horrifying part is that he wants it. he wants to feel the warmth of her body. he wants to see her wide hips stutter, her pretty thighs open. he thinks about bending her over and kneeling down behind her, spreading the meat of her ass so he can watch her come undone against the velvet cushions of her couch.

you're so fucking pretty. and you're everywhere. when he grips the metal of his rifle, he thinks about how hard he was when he ate your cunt--fucking solid, balls so heavy and tight that he thinks he came for a full minute when he finally touched himself that night. when the sight of that rifle finds its target, he thinks about the way your pupils dilated when you came, the way your eyes rolled back into your head and the little sounds you made when he drank up the essence of you. when he swings his knife and plunges it into a soft neck, he thinks about your smile, the teeth you bared, the ones he wants to slide his tongue over when he kisses you again.

he had kissed you. kissed someone. the thought alone would normally make him vomit. to think of another person seeing his face, it bothered him, would usually make him feel sick--disgusted. his face wasn't meant for anyone to see, not even just half of it, and yet--he let you touch him.

and it didn't burn.

he remembers when he had taken a hand once for it. feeling someone's touch on his face, feeling scarred all over again by it, and taking flesh as their penance.

it was only fair.

there is something wrong with him. he should've killed you for it. your hand on his jaw, your lips on his, he should've killed you for touching him--and yet here he is, in another lonely room, staring at his target, thinking about how he can get your hands on him again. how he might coax you into kissing him just one more time.

he doesn't want to make it a habit. but he does want it to happen again. and it is enough that he knows he shouldn't see you again, but he will, because he's selfish. because he's hungry. because there is place inside of him, one that he thought was hollow and untreatable, that is just that much satiated whenever he is with you.

when he closes his eyes, he sees what haunts him. it isn't the memories of torture. he doesn't feel the wood of a coffin he once laid in. he doesn't feel the sting of pain when they carved layers into his face, he doesn't feel the holes they left along his chest when they rooted out pieces of him. he doesn't feel what he felt when they popped his fingernails off one by one.

no, he feels the ghost of someone's touch. he feels the rough callouses of skilled hands. he thinks of the bruised knuckles that used to scrape over the ridges of his uneven skin, and he thinks of the eyes that used to look at him as if he wasn't this mangled, forgotten thing.

he thinks of those eyes, and how blue they used to be. he thinks of what they looked like with that brightness in them, how they used to move, so fluid and easy. and he thinks of what they looked like with nothing in them. he thinks of them when they reflected nothing but the dull light over his head, and he thinks of the scream he let out when he was alone, when he still had his blood on his gloves.

ghost never begs. he doesn't beg, he never has, but he thinks he did that night. he thinks he begged, to who, to no one maybe, but he begged anyway, but it doesn't matter.

no one answered, and he knows there is a place inside of him so fucking hollow, that nothing will fill it again. a hole that only seems to be dug deeper and deeper with each thing he loses.

he never looked back when he left. he didn't say a word. he didn't even take his belongings, he just left. and the only thing he still carries with him from his past life is how good he is at killing and the extra dog tags that hang around his neck.

ghost isn't real. there is nothing about him that is redeemable, nothing about him that is good enough to love, and that is why he just doesn't care. and when he stopped caring, the nightmares went away. when he stopped wondering where they were, what they were seeing, if they would be disappointed in him, he no longer saw their faces in his dreams, watching them fade to black as the soft images turned into violent ones.

when he stopped being human, they left him, and he is so grateful for it. and that is why you were going to be a problem.

because he wants. he desires. he tastes, and he hungers, and you are sweet, and he wants to have you, and it isn't right. he knows this. he knows what it is he needs to do, but he won't do it--and there is a voice in his head that begs, from a far away place, for him to let you go.

but while he might not be human any longer, he is still a man, and men are weak.

as a man, he cannot close his eyes and forget your pretty face. he cannot stop thinking about your warm thighs, the softness of you, the unscarred skin that you wear. you wear your body as it is yours, and not like it holds you back, not like his does. your belly is full, and your heart is good, and you are warm. you aren't made of something else, you are real, and his blood runs so cold, he can't help but itch to feel you again.

there is something about you that makes that place inside of him feel like it isn't there, even for just a moment. and those moments remind him of someone else, of something else, something he once had that made him sick to think about having again.

the last time he had this, it killed him. the last time he found himself here, he didn't realize it had happened until it was too late--he was buried, deep, and there was no escaping a shallow grave this time because he thinks he loved the one that put him there. the last time he thought this way, he felt not himself, not enough, but it had been everything his life had been without, so he stayed, and he let it happen, and he didn't push him away, and now look at me--look at what I've done, look at what I've become--

men are weak. and men are lonely. and it was only a matter of time before ghost found himself there again, on his knees for something else. something soft and sweet and real, something that loves unconditionally and begs for attention and is never satiated until he looks at them and gives them what they need.

he doesn't know what he will become after you. he doesn't know what it will make of him. he knows you will go before him--he knows you will die before he does, because he isn't capable of dying, and even though he knows this as a fact, he wants to die again. but he won't try, because it won't work, even if he takes the blade strapped to his side and shoves it right through his heart.

he doesn't have one. he doesn't know what such a wound would even do. and he doesn't wish to see what color his blood will run if he does it, anyways.

you don't like the distance he keeps you at. it isn't fair. you do everything he asks--you go where he goes, you let him come and go whenever he wants, you spread your legs for him and let him have his fill, and you don't complain when he leaves even though your mouth waters thinking about getting your mouth on him and hearing him bask in his own pleasure for even a moment.

he gives and he takes, but he lets you do neither, and you want more. you know he isn't capable of more, you know he doesn't want more, but you want it, and he needs it. he needs you, despite what he says, despite how he acts, and you will give him what he needs.

you see it in his eyes. the things that aren't there, the things you think he once had but doesn't have anymore. sometimes he talks like you aren't there, and he mentions someone else.

another person. someone he used to know. someone he used to love, you think, but he isn't capable of love anymore, so you often wonder what they did to him to make him this way.

aloof. detached. so entirely fucked, he cannot make connections or hold the ones he has or let himself have what he needs. they have done something to him, and he wears the aftermath of it so clearly.

"he woulda liked you," he says sometimes.

"woulda loved the taste of y'r cunt," he murmurs once.

but they are gone. and you are not. and you know that there is something here. otherwise, he would never come back. he would not want to see you again. maybe he would have even killed you, but he hasn't, and he eats pussy like he loves you, so you decide you won't leave him alone. you won't let him go. this isn't fair, and you will get what it is you want--and give him what it is he needs.

you see him in the pub that you met in. he sits at the far corner of the bar, tucked in the dark against the wall, and he swirls a glass of bourbon in front of him. he wears a rain jacket over his dark hoodie, and you light up when you catch sight of him.

you wear something nice for him. a short skirt, a cotton shirt tucked into it, a cropped jacket over top, and your boots make you feel tall, but you know it won't matter--you'll never be taller or bigger than that large, hulking man you have your eyes fixated on.

but when he sees you, he doesn't react the way you expect. he doesn't sit up, doesn't get off his seat to come get you, he doesn't move at all. his eyes run over you, and then they move back down to his drink.

like he doesn't know what you taste like between your legs. like he doesn't know you at all.

your smile fades. you clutch your purse now in clammy hands, and you walk shakily to the bar and sit, swallowing hard as you try and hold in the shaky breath in your throat. your chest hurts a little; your heart has fallen into your stomach, and you shift on the bar stool, fidgety and uncertain.

you had been so happy to see him. you had been so excited to come here. you hadn't seen him in weeks--but the sparse texts he had sent you were enough to keep you hanging onto your phone whenever it made a sound, as if one of those notifications might be him, throwing you just enough attention to keep you on your toes, desperate.

your lip trembles a little as the bartender comes to take your order. you ask for a shot and a chaser, and you tell him to make it a double. you want to be drunk, and you want to be drunk quickly.

you tip the drink back, swallowing it down. it burns, holds a fire in your chest, and you chase it with a seltzer, swallowing down the contents of both until you slam the can back on the counter, hiccuping.

you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, and when you realize ghost is still not looking at you, you're drunk enough to test his limits.

there's a group of boys down on the other side of the counter. they're playing darts, and they're drinking, and you slip off the barstool with a little step before making your way over cautiously. you pull your shirt down, show off the swell of your tits, and you ask them if they'll teach you to throw darts.

they practically cheer with delight. you hear one of them drool over your ass in that skirt, you hear another whine about looking down your shirt and at the peek of the lace bra you wear, and you shiver when you realize all you ever wanted was attention.

someone to tell you that you're pretty. that you make them hungry. but it isn't all you want, and they can't give you what you want.

they won't die for you. they won't live for you. and certainly, you know, they won't kill for you. but there's a man on the other side of the room that you want doing those things for you, that has the fucking balls to do those things for you, that possesses no good bone in his body that would do those things easily for you.

you see him in your dreams, breaking necks and popping kneecaps and slicing soft skin just to please you, and it makes you ache inside. you know what he does. he's never lied to you, but he doesn't always tell you the whole truth, but you fill in the blanks of the spaces he leaves behind, and you know what it is he does.

there's blood on his boots and money in his pocket, and you should be so afraid, but you never could be. not with the way he touches you. not with the way he talks to you. not with the way he puts his tongue inside of you and holds your thighs apart, and not with the way he grunts when he disappears into your bathroom to fuck himself to the image of you on your couch, half-naked as you wait for a fucking that never comes.

why won't he touch me? why won't he fuck me? why doesn't he rip the rest of my clothes off and have his way with me? he doesn't seem like the kind of man to ask for permission, but he eats me, and then he leaves me, and i can't take it anymore, please, please, please--

you're dizzy. the room spins, and the boys laugh, and your darts are hitting the wall now, clattering to the floor as they all boo and snicker at the way you're stumbling in your heels.

they're too close. you can smell the vodka and beer too much, and it's too warm because they're too close to you. someone's hand is on your thigh, another holds you upright with a grabby grip on your back, and there's someone else playing with your hair. they hum and they talk, and when they say they want to take you home, all you can do is hiccup and smile.

but as soon as you turn and leave, there's a large shadow waiting outside the door, leaning against the wall. you giggle knowingly, because you knew he would be here, and when the boys notice him, they try to take you in the other direction.

"if y'blokes knew wot was good for ya, y'd let 'er go and be on y'r way." he isn't in a good mood. he clicks his teeth as he comes off the wall, stepping under the streetlight. it makes the shadows of his hoodie darker, but his eyes are clearer now, bright under the mask as he breathes hard. he's angry, and he doesn't seem like his patience will linger tonight.

"oi, mate, relax," one of them laughs, and you giggle again when you see ghost tilt his head to the side. fuck, he's deadly, and you're wet. you squeeze your legs together looking at him, and you want him to put one big hand on your waist and tilt your head back--you want him to push his mask up and kiss you, all sloppy and soft like he did all those weeks ago. you want him to put his hands up your skirt and fuck you with his fingers right in the street, the same hands he squeezed the life out of someone with, the same hands he was going to kill these boys with.

ghost steps closer, and he goes for the nearest. brings a hand up, smacking one big hand against their cheek until their head hit the side of the building, and he crumpled to the floor in a pool of his own blood.

they scatter like bugs. stumbling drunk over their feet, tripping, and they disappear into the dark as ghost tilts his head to the other side now, looking at you.

you smile. giddy, hitting your toes together, and when you step to the side, you don't notice you've stepped in that man's blood.

"y'think this is fuckin' funny, eh? hangin' about with lot like that, y'think it's fuckin' funny?" he spits, and you put your hands behind your back, biting your lip.

"you...you ignored me," you hiccup. "why did you ignore me?"

"that wot this is about?" ghost snarls. "me not givin' you a proper look?"

you bite your lip harder, nearly drawing blood.

"i missed you," you whisper, your lip trembling slightly. "m-missed you so much..."

"fuck off with that," he mutters, but you step closer anyways. when he doesn't step back, you step forward again, until you're flush against his chest, tilting your head back to look up at him. you go languid when his arm falls, slipping up the back of your skirt just like you imagined. he squeezes the flesh of your ass before he leans down, and you whine when he presses the front of his mask against your lips. you kiss, your soft mouth kissing him through the fabric.

"is he dead?" you ask when he pulls away. ghost says nothing at first, just smooths his hand over the lace of your panties. he grunts when he slides his fingers between the seam, satisfied when he hears the squelch of your wet pussy as he pets you there. you squirm a little.

"dunno," ghost murmurs, and you get wetter you think, at how nonchalant he behaves as he touches you shamelessly where anyone might see. "fuck, bunny, y'r soakin' my fuckin' gloves."

"why don't you like me?" you whimper. you reach up and put both hands on his chest, and you dig your nails there, but you meet resistance. the muscle and fat there barely give way, and he hums when you drag your nails down, anchoring yourself to him. when you meet his eyes, they are dull, and you know he doesn't care. "i-i like you...i-i like you so much..." he huffs in annoyance, but you keep going, "you like someone else," you whisper. "there's someone else..."

someone else. as if there is some kind of competition, and maybe there is, but it isn't what you think. there is someone in his head, someone that screams for him to leave, someone that begs him--simon, please, yer goin' to hurt 'er, please, she's so pretty, please--but it isn't because he loves someone else, it's because he did love someone else, and he doesn't think there's room for more.

but he also cannot explain what swelled in his chest when he watched you with those boys. the searing heat of emotion that bubbled in his throat, and how the only relief he feels is the satisfaction that the boy at your feet bleeds because he put his hands on you, that is good, make them suffer, touching what fuckin' belongs to me.

there's a breaking point. it's the law of physics. something as rigid as ghost could only bend so far back before it reaches the elastic limit, and then it is deformed, and then it snaps, and then it is two pieces instead of one that cannot be put back together--and he feels it. he knows this is it. the fine line between what was and what is, this is it, it's too late--shut the fuck up, johnny, it's too late, i have her, she's mine, get out of my head, get out of my fucking head, i'm going to have her, have her, have her sweet fucking cunt--

you are bliss. you are the air that allows him to breathe. you are the threads in the fabric, the water in the soil, the heat that warms the house and breaks the soul and drives the machine.

you are in his bed, on your back, and when he slides your skirt off, there it is. the soft place between your pretty thighs, glistening and so wet, puckering and pulsing as you spread your knees for him and slip your shirt off.

he doesn't remember taking his mask off. he doesn't know where it went, but it is gone, and your lips are on his, and your tits are bouncing as he grinds his cock into your soft, squishy folds. the tip catches sometimes, and it makes you cry, and you whine when he breaks the kiss to lick your tears and taste the salt of your pleasure. the tears are heady and desperate, and he knows this flavor, and he wants more of it.

he commits this to memory. when he sits up and feeds you his cock, he memorizes the way you moan. the twitch of your pussy, the leaking of your wetness, the way you clench and tighten and grip so he cannot do anything but force himself deeper inside of you.

what is it that he loves? what is it that he loves so much that he cannot look you right in the eyes? whose body did he have underneath him all that time ago that steals him away so much he cannot fuck you the way you deserve? the way you need, the way he wants?

you reach up and grip his dog tags. they jangle against his chest as he grips your hips and fucks you, and you use them to anchor yourself, tugging on the metal necklace as you focus on the way he thrusts. powerful, smooth, with ease--he's so big, but he fills you so well, and you can't help but wonder if he's losing himself because it's so familiar. to be inside. to be gripped and squeezed and milked for all that you are, the brute of a man so misunderstood that fucks like a goddamn pornstar.

he's so good at this. when he finds the gooey spot in your cunt, he knows how to get you there. hitting it just enough to bring you to the edge, and then slowing down to savor the wet mess your cunt has become, and then doing it again. he listens to the cries you make, the crescendo of moans that you sob out that come back down when he goes softer. he thinks about this, and he makes music out of you. the pretty bunny, so fucking dumb inside, but the thing he cannot be without.

when he fucks you, he sees in blue, and he knows this isn't a coincidence. the blue in your eyes, it doens't lie--he knows what this feeling is, and he prays to no one that he can fuck this feeling right out of himself.

you come so messy. you soak his thighs, creaming on his cock as you beg him to fill you, and he cages you between his arms as he fucks harder, faster, losing momentum as he nears the same glorious high. he's been so good, but this he cannot help--not the way this feels, so familiar, so easy, so freeing.

there are no thoughts when he is inside of you, and this is bliss.

he kisses you when he comes. cups both puffy cheeks of yours as he spurts hot cum inside of you, sliding his big hands down to grip your thighs as he nestles his hips against yours. you reach down with two hands and squeeze his lower back, keeping him inside. this feeling, the feeling of being so full and warm and enjoyed, it isn't natural to you, and it isn't one you feel often, and you chase after it. you lick into his mouth and whine, and he hushes you.

"easy, rabbit," he pants, licking over your jaw, and you close your eyes. if he is predator and you are prey, then so be it. you want him to have his fill--you want him to trap you, steal you away, tuck you into this den he keeps and never let you leave.

you don't mind the blood on his boots, stained on his clothes, under his fingernails. in fact, you think about it often. you think about taking a rag and cleaning the leather of his shoes. you think about teaching him the cold water and peroxide trick to getting the blood out of fabric. you think about taking the gloves off, letting his fingers wander into the warmth of your mouth so you can suck his skin clean, all while your eyes never left his.

you think about the thing that you are. the bunny you are, the prey you've manifested yourself into, and you think about the thing that he is. you think about the dark, dense places that must exist inside of his head, and you think about how you can't see them in his eyes.

you think about being the bunny in a cage and how he holds the key. and you wonder if you would even leave if he ever let you go.

ghost loves someone else. you don't know who they are or where they've gone, but he loves someone else. but that's okay. that's temporary. that's just for now. they didn't love him enough to stay.

they didn't love him enough not to die. you don't intend to die. you're going to carve him up, right along the scars that he wears, and you're going to slip inside of him and live there forever, nestled between the organs and the black of his blood and the heart you know he doesn't have.

ghost is a thing. but he's still a man.

and men are fucking weak.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #ghost call of duty #ghost mwii #ghost x reader #cod #call of duty #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley smut #dark!simon

581 notes · View notes

alessiasfreckles · 3 months

Text

amnesia (ona batlle x reader)

You wake up in the hospital with no memory of who you are or anything about your life, but a pretty brunette is by your bedside, so it can't be all bad, right?

warnings: memory loss, car accident mention, hospital

a/n: part 2 here!

----------

“She’s awake!”

Squinting against the harsh light, you slowly opened your eyes, taking in your surroundings. You were lying in bed in a room with white and grey walls and bright overhead lights. The bedsheet covering you was soft against your hands.

You blinked, looking around the room. Four people were stood around you, a woman in a white coat, a man in light blue scrubs, and two young women in everyday clothes. The two women looked on the verge of tears, but you weren’t sure why.

Opening your mouth to speak, you gagged as you realised your throat was obstructed by something. The realisation quickly turned to panic, feeling like you were being choked, unable to breathe. One of the younger women turned to the woman in white, who you were pretty sure was a doctor, and spoke rapidly in a language you couldn’t understand.

The doctor and the man, who you decided was probably a nurse, quickly worked to remove the tube from your throat. Eyes watering, you coughed and rubbed your throat, glad to be free of it. When you opened your mouth to speak again, the doctor interrupted you gently.

“Careful,” she said. “Don’t strain yourself.”

“Wh- where am I?” you asked. Your voice was hoarse, and your tongue felt like sandpaper. “Is this a hospital?”

The two women exchanged anxious glances.

“Yes, this is the Hospital de Barcelona,” the doctor told you. Barcelona, huh. That explained her accent. “Do you remember why you’re here?”

You frowned, shaking your head. Now that she mentioned it, you had no idea what you were doing there.

“That’s okay. It’s perfectly normal not to remember much. You were in an accident. You were hit by a car. Miraculously, you only broke some bones in your right leg, but you hit your head pretty hard. You’ve been in a coma since the accident, 15 days ago.”

Your mind raced as you took in the information. Why couldn’t you remember any of it? Why couldn’t you remember anything? Not even-

“Now, can you tell me your name?” the doctor asked, interrupting your stream of thought.

Not even your name.

“I- I don’t know, I don’t know my name, why don’t I remember my name?” you asked frantically. You tried to sit up but stopped as a wave of pain radiated throughout your body, crashing over you. One of the women reached out, putting a hand on your shoulder.

The doctor stayed for a while, explaining to you again and again what had happened. You’d been hit by a car. You’d hit your head. You’d been in a coma for the past 15 days. You’d been hit by a car. You’d hit your head. You’d been in a coma for the past 15 days. Over and over again, until it sunk in.

She spoke to the two women before she left, again in a language you didn’t understand, the two glancing over at you with worried faces, the doctor’s face reassuring and kind. Once she was gone, the two women came over to your bedside. Tears brimmed in their eyes, but they were both trying to smile at you.

“Hola, mija,” one of the women said. She had blonde hair with dark roots and kind eyes, but she looked tired.

“Do- do you remember me? Us?” the other woman asked, gesturing to herself and the blonde. Her hair was darker, and freckles were scattered across her nose and cheeks. Your eyes raked over her sharp jawbones, her angular face. Surely you would know if you’d met someone like her before.

You shook your head slowly.

The brunette swallowed back a sob, the blonde holding her arm tightly.

“It’s okay, that’s okay,” the blonde said. “The doctor said there was a high chance of this happening. That she wouldn’t remember us. It’s okay.”

“Who are you?” you asked, voice quiet.

“I’m Ona. I’m, uh, we play together,” the brunette told you, and the blonde looked at her sharply for just a second before looking back at you.

“And I’m Alexia. Your teammate and friend.”

Playing together? Teammate?

“Football!” you blurted out suddenly. You’re not sure how you knew, but you had this deep, innate sense that football is important to you. More than important, it’s your whole life. “I play football, right?”

The blonde, Alexia, let out a laugh of relief. “Si! You play football! We all play together, here in Barcelona.”

She squeezed Ona’s arm, who smiled tearfully.

“So, I’m guessing we’re all pretty close, right? Surely there’s a reason you’re here,” you said bluntly, wincing at the pain in your head.

“We’re your best friends,” Ona said quickly, before Alexia could open her mouth.

“That’s… right,” Alexia said slowly. “I’m the capitana of our team, and we’re best friends. And you and Ona are also… best friends.”

You nodded, feeling exhausted suddenly. “Thank you both for being here, then. I think I’m going to sleep now, if that’s okay?”

“Of course!” Ona said, jumping up. “We’ll be here when you wake up, okay?”

You were asleep before the two had even left the room. Once they were in the hallway, the door to your private hospital room shut, Alexia turned to face Ona.

“What was that?” Alexia asked her, voice hushed, as though you’d be able to hear them through the door.

“What do you mean?” Ona shifted uncomfortably, not meeting the blonde’s eyes.

“Why did you tell her you’re just friends? Why didn’t you tell her that you’re dating?!”

#hannah writes fics #haven't decided yet whether this is going to be fluffy or angsty #let me know which i should do #also.... if it's going to turn into alexia x reader #ona batlle #ona batlle x reader #ona batlle x reader fluff #ona batlle fanfic #ona batlle imagine #woso #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso fanfic

660 notes · View notes

botanyshitposts · 2 years

Text

ok this sounds insane but in 2018 i went to a few carnivorous plant talks at the botany conference in minnesota. i got caught up in conversation with one of the guys there who was a huge nepenthes guy who told me a story about another collector in the pacific northwest who'd been buying poached plants, like a huge amount, and eventually got staked out by the fish and wildlife service and arrested and had all his plants seized and went to prison for it. idk if i ever talked about this on this blog before-- i know i liveblogged a lot from that conference but cant remember what all i posted-- but ive avoided talking about it since then because i was never able to find like, news articles or anything covering it, but behold.... we now have proof it was real, and im like 80% sure this was this guy he was talking about. the raid happened in 2016 and they'd been staking them out since 2013. he had nearly 400 plants and had been sourcing many of them from poachers in indonesia and borneo.

remember folks: poaching happens with plants too! it's a huge problem not only in carnvirous plants (nepenthes especially, which this piece is dedicated to talking about) but also in native plant populations in the US, including native carnivorous plant populations (north and south carolina's venus fly traps, california's darlingtonia, and sarracenia from the east coast), native orchids (historically one of the most poached categories), desert plants/cacti/succulents, and slow-growing woody ornamentals (cycads, for example). never buy bare-root plants off ebay or facebook! your best bet is local nurseries (which usually purchase farm-raised plants that do well in a wide range of conditions, and as a result have a healthy population in the wild) or specialty greenhouses (more expensive, but at least in the case of carnivorous plants offer young plants bred from established adult plants in-house, raised in captivity).

#super sad piece fellas like this shit guts me i cant even stress it enough #stories about nepenthes poaching hit different #there are hundreds of species #some are really common and widespread all over indonesia/china/japan/oceania #and some are like. super hyperadapted to one specific ridge on one specific mountain #theyre still being recorded and stuff because theyve speciated so much #so youll have a plant that has like. a max of 15 adults in the population at any given time. literally a nightmare scenario #AND theyre diaceous (there are male plants and female plants). doesnt seem like a problem until you think about the population dynamics #there not only has to be two plants but the plants have to be a male and a female #and people living there have reason to take them. like the poacher interviewed in this article does it to supplement his income #from working at a horrifying rubber production ordeal to feed his wife and kids #and he says everyone in his village does the same for the same reasons #nightmare!! nightmare!! nightmare horrible nightmare world!!! horrible fucking nightmare!!!!#nepenethes #carnivorous plants #poaching #conservation

11K notes · View notes

fastandcarlos · 3 days

Text

Ferrari At Heart » Charles LeClerc

summary: as your interest in f1 grows, so does your interest in a certain ferrari driver

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by redbullracing, schecoperez and 528,392 others

ynusername: excited to experience my first grand prix this weekend, and luckily for you guys I get to bring you with me for it all. thank you red bull for inviting me out 💙

tagged: redbullracing

48,221 comments

redbullracing: you’re more than welcome back at the paddock anytime you like

username1: pls tell me we’re getting a vlog out of this

username2: praying for a max cameo

landonorris: it was good to meet you y/n, even if it was only in passing

ynusername: @/landonorris if I come again I’ll make sure we have a proper introduction

username3: imagine all the chaos of y/n x f1 drivers 🤯

maxverstappen1: thank you for being a great guest, I’m sure we could definitely arrange another trip out for you soon!!

username4: max and y/n already seem like the best of friends omg

schecoperez: loved having you root for us this weekend y/n, hopefully you’ll be cheering for red bull in the future too!

username5: y/n must’ve been good company for grandad sergio to comment 😂

username6: I’ve not even seen the footage but I just know I want y/n at every f1 race for the rest of time

ynusername: thank you for an awesome couple of days, I’m editing all my content with a huge smile on my face 💙

maxverstappen1: @/ynusername remember who your favourite driver is and to edit him handsomely

ynusername: @/maxverstappen1 ofc…just for you!

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 723,100 others

ynusername: new vlog is on its way, I take a tour of the paddock, spend the day in blue and see what happened when charles and max joined me for a game which left them not speaking to each other for the rest of the day

tagged: maxverstappen1 and charles_leclerc

83,291 comments

username7: how do two grown men fall out over rock paper scissors 🤦🏻‍♀️

username8: petition for y/n to just be hired by f1 - funniest video ever!!

maxverstappen1: thank you for showing people I have the ability to smile 😂

maxverstappen1: ps I’m still not over you cheating so that charles could win #favouritism

charles_leclerc: maybe y/n is secretly just a ferrari girl at heart 🤔

username9: two of my fave drivers and fave vlogger in one video…have I died and gone to heaven?

charles_leclerc: I had such a good time with you, just let me know one day if you fancy another cameo from the most handsome f1 driver to ever exist 🥰

ynusername: @/charles_leclerc if I do, I’ll be sure to give carlos a call!

charles_leclerc: @/ynusername RUDE

username10: not y/n already savaging charles

username11: I never want this weekend of content to end

danielricciardo: if you come back again, I call dibs on being the first for editing lessons from you

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by carlossainz55, ynusername and 1,319,503 others

charles_leclerc: the perfect ending to a great week here in Baku, thank you for all the support this week ❤️🏁🏆

193,492 comments

username12: welcome back to where you belong king!!

scuderiaferrari: an amazing week charles, congratulations from the whole team ❤️

ynusername: it was awesome to see you top of the podium at my first race…enjoy your celebrations this evening 👏🏻

charles_leclerc: @/ynusername there’s still time for you to come join us…

username13: charles flirting with y/n was not what I had on my bingo card for 2024

username14: charles sliding right in and stealing y/n from red bull

carlossainz55: solid drive charlie! p1 and p2 🎉

username15: someone figure out the lucky charm that won charles the race this week!!

username16: @/username15 isn’t it obvious???

landonorris: thank you for sending all that love to me mon cherie

charles_leclerc: @/landonorris isn’t it past your bedtime? 🙄

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by danielricciardo, oscarpiastri and 528,302 others

ynusername: I had so much fun the first time I just had to come for round two, shoutout to charles for giving me the ticket 🥺

62,338 comments

charles_leclerc: happy to have been able to help you out…look forward to seeing me win again this week 😉

username17: anyone else think there’s definitely something strange going on here…

maxverstappen1: can’t believe you’ve betrayed me like this y/n 💙

charles_leclerc: @/maxverstappen1 I told you she was ferrari at heart ❤️

username18: how is y/n so calm when she has THE charles leclerc practically wrapped around her finger

carlossainz55: it’s only been a week and we missed you, love the most handsome face in f1 😂😚

username19: pls lord let there be another vlog from this weekend

oscarpiastri: mclaren next week?? 🧡

georgerussell63: come and see me this weekend…my girlfriend is desperate to meet you 🙏🏻

carmenmmundt: @/georgerussell63 why you exposing me like this??

ynusername: @/carmenmmundt I promise I’m all yours when I find you 💕🩷

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55 and 829,004 others

ynusername: another f1 video is on its way featuring my two new favourite people, so glad to call you both friends. i think you’ll be seeing a lot more of me and f1 soon 🤫🤐

42,391 comments

username20: peep the f1 mic 👀

username21: my heart won’t take it if y/n is working for f1 now too

charles_leclerc: I could definitely get used to seeing a lot more of you around ☺️

carlossainz55: hands down the best video I’ve ever been a part of 😂

ynusername: @/carlossainz55 thank you for being such a great sport and taking part with my crazy ideas 🫶🏻

username22: no one can convince me that charles doesn’t fancy y/n now

username23: “call you both friends” um no y/n this is not how this works

pierregasly: major fomo watching you all have this much fun!

ynusername: @/pierregasly you and estie next week??

pierregasly: @/ynusername YES YES YES

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by scuderiaferrari, charles_leclerc and 829,400 others

ynusername: another race week = another week of annoying these two and playing guess the ferrari as the cars go round too fast 😂🏎️

53,922 comments

username24: thank you ferrari for having y/n back 🙏🏻

charles_leclerc: you know which car mine is right?

ynusername: @/charles_leclerc if I say yes will you believe me??

charles_leclerc: @/ynusername no 😂 I’ll just have to make sure that I stand out from the crowd next time

username25: bit sus for y/n to be with charles as soon as the race is over 🤔

username26: I refuse to believe that this is another just friends situation

carlossainz55: if you see two ferraris I’m usually the one in front 😉

charles_leclerc: @/carlossainz55 don’t lie to y/n like that 🙄

ynusername: @/carlossainz55 you and I know the truth 😂

landonorris: come join mclaren we’re easy to spot 🧡

iamrebeccad: I’ve been doing this for nearly a year and lemme tell you y/n it doesn’t get easier

username27: rebecca implying that we’ll see more of y/n at races in the future 😩

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by username28, landonorris and 29,201 others

f1wags: our sources out on the streets of monaco have been sharing some interesting snaps of charles leclerc and y/n y/l/n before qualifying this weekend. y/n has regularly been seen in the ferrari garage the past few races, and whilst it’s been well publicised that the couple have struck up quite the friendship, could this be something a little bit more?

3,920 comments

username28: not lando in the likes 😂😂

username29: damn I knew it

username30: my heart is racing…pls someone say this is true

username31: the way he looks at her 🫠

username32: I love them so much already

username33: lando don’t just like, spill the tea if you’ve got it

username34: I’ve never shipped a couple harder in my life

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by scuderiaferrari, charles_leclerc and 1,034,482 others

ynusername: p1 in monaco, exactly what you’ve dreamed of for so long! congratulations you beautiful human, I could not be prouder of you 🏆🏁❤️

tagged: charles_leclerc

89,207 comments

username35: this is it team…they’re finally confirmed 🎉

username36: I KNEW IT I KNEW IT I KNEW IT

maxverstappen1: I’ll secretly take all the credit for this and introducing the two of you 😇

username37: everyone say thank you to max for introducing my two loves

charles_leclerc: thank you for all your love and support, I couldn’t do it without you 🥰❤️

username38: I cannot wait to see the vlog of this one

username39: my life has officially peaked

carlossainz55: am I still the most handsome face in f1?? 😂

ynusername: @/carlossainz55 🤫🤫

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri and 1,490,284 others

charles_leclerc: the worst kept secret ever…from day one I always knew I was gonna get the girl 🥺💕

tagged: ynusername

78,848 comments

ynusername: you could’ve at least pretended not to be obsessed with me 😂😂

charles_leclerc: @/ynusername you shouldn’t have looked so gorgeous then I wouldn’t have had to

maxverstappen1: @/charles_leclerc 🤮🤮

charles_leclerc: @/maxverstappen1 you’re only jealous…I told you that y/n really was a ferrari girl at heart ❤️😂

——————

any replies, reposts or feedback are gratefully received

696 notes · View notes

fandsart · 1 year

Text

Steve and Nancy's relationship didn't work out because they had different wants and needs so when Steve starts dating Eddie he tries really hard not to have wants and needs of his own. Knowing that Eddie didn't reschedule Hellfire for Lucas doesn't help with this.

He goes to a few metal concerts even though he always gets migraines the next day from the volume, he lets Eddie talks about all kinds of nerd stuff even if it makes him feel stupid when he can't keep up.

It's not even like he's dragging Steve into things that are actively detrimental to him all that often. Just a couple activities things a week. But Steve also feels the need to hide some of his own interests, knowing that Eddie hates them.

Not that he doesn't love being around Eddie, but now that they're dating he's hardly not around, and it's hard to find time to keep up on the teams that Steve roots for. But it's... it's fine. He's happy with Eddie, so he can make the sacrifice to hide these parts of himself. It's fine.

Eddie doesn't realize this is going on because he's aware that he's pushing Steve out of his comfort zone, what he isn't aware of is how Steve far out of his comfort zone he really is, and how he doesn't want to bother Eddie with it, afraid they'll break up over it.

Then he slips up, just a little bit, when Eddie invites him to a concert on the same day he plans on watching a game. This isn't even the first time this has happened, but Eddie usually gives him more of a heads up for this kind of thing. He thought he was close enough to the date that he wouldn't have to worry about it getting disrupted, and it was a pretty big game, so his disappointment is higher than usual.

Eddie is talking about a metal band and is going on a small ramble explaining the context of where they sit in the metal scene.

"And they have a concert in Indy tomorrow," he grins, "and I really want to take you."

"Oh, I was gonna... Yeah, we can do that."

"You were gonna what?"

"It doesn't matter. It's stupid."

"Steve, it's not a big deal. It's not like I'm taking you to a Dio concert. These guys are actually pretty small and relatively local. I'm sure we could catch another one, it would just be kind of down the road."

"Eddie it's fine. We can go to your concert. Whatever you want."

Eddie gives him a look. "I don't want it to be 'my concert.' If you wouldn't enjoy it, I wouldn't want to just be dragging you with me. And I don't want it to be 'fine' I want it to be enjoyable!"

"I enjoy spending time with you."

"Ok, so what were you going to do tomorrow?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Obviously it does!"

They're fighting and this was exactly what Steve was worried about. If Steve could have just gotten over himself, cut the bullshit, they wouldn't be fighting right now.

"Eddie, it really doesn't. Can we just go to the concert and forget about this?"

"No. If you don't want to go, you don't have to."

"If I don't go, will you go without me?"

"Unless you don't want me to."

"I want to go with you, wherever."

"Ok, you know what, I just remembered I actually have to help Wayne with something on tomorrow."

"No you don't. Look, I wasn't gonna do anything. Can we please just go to this concert you want to go to?"

"Look, I have to go to school. I'm already over 2 hours late." With that, he's out the door.

↞⬡+¤+⬡↠

Steve's not sure what time the concert was even meant to be at, but if he could just get a hold of Eddie and convince him he wants to go, maybe they won't miss it. It's already fairly well into the afternoon and he hasn't heard from Eddie all day.

The first few times he calls, there's no answer, but when he finally gets an answer it's Wayne that picks up.

"You almost missed me," he says. "Make it quick, I gotta to get to work."

"Is Eddie there?"

"Nah, he should be in Indy by now. Did he not tell you? There's some concert down there."

"Yeah, I, uh... Thank you Mr. Munson."

So Eddie went by himself even though Steve told him he wanted to come, and he'd pretended that he didn't even want to go.

Steve watches his game that night, kind of miserable and guilty. He debated not watching it, almost as a point of honor, since he lied to Eddie and told him that he didn't really have anything planned today. They'd both lied about their plans last night and Steve is so ready for Eddie to come back and say that he had a much better time without Steve and it's time they go they're separate ways.

His team loses and he falls asleep on the couch soon after, the tv still playing in the background.

He wakes up in the morning to a knock at the door. Eddie stands on the other side.

"Hey, baby. Did I wake you up?"

"Um... yeah." He wants to bring up what happened yesterday, that Eddie went without him, but he's afraid it will just make things worse. He obviously wanted to go without him if he did so, and bringing it up might just start an argument about how Eddie doesn't need Steve's permission to do things (and he doesn't) reinforcing why he didn't want Steve to come in the first place. He wants to stay with Eddie forever and he's worried the relationship is starting to fall apart. "It's fine. I should be up by now anyway."

Eddie hums almost suspiciously. "Can I come in?"

"Of course." He moves out of the way.

"'Whatever I want,' huh?" he asks, as he walks through the doorway.

"What?"

"Nothing. We'll talk about it in a minute. A few things first. Come on." He drags Steve over to the couch. "So what did you do yesterday?"

"Tried getting a hold of you, mostly."

Eddie chuckles nervously. "Sorry. But did you do whatever it was you planned on doing before?" Steve tenses just a little bit. Is Eddie going to accuse him of choosing baseball over their relationship? He kind of almost did when he first opened his mouth after Eddie first suggest the concert. Is he going to call him out for that. "Relax baby, you don't even need to tell me what it was, as long as whatever it was you were doing wasn't a person."

"No, never!"

"I know, Stevie. I know you're history; I know you would never do that. So I'm not upset. So did you carry out your plans, whatever they were?"

"Yeah. It was disappointing."

"Well, I'm glad you did what you wanted anyway. And since you were busy and couldn't come to the concert, I went and brought you back a tape." He pulls a cassette tape out of his pocket. "You obviously weren't going to admit you didn't want to go, but I still wanted to share this with you, so here. This is yours."

Eddie's more attentive to when Steve seems hesitant to do something after that. Eventually Steve gets comfortable enough to bring up where his reservations stand regarding a lot of these things. Eddie switches up how he talks about his interests, trying to make it more coherent and gets Steve earplugs for concerts. He encourages Steve to talk about his own interests, even when Eddie doesn't fully get the appeal himself. He can go a little outside of his comfort zone too. For Steve, it's always worth it.

#They have a lot of talks about this as time goes on which eventually leads to Eddie apologizing to Lucas btw #about the hellfire campaign #steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie ficlet #ficlet #fandsart

4K notes · View notes

asapeveryday · 14 days

Text

SHOCK FACTOR ★彡PART 5

Prev. Next.

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Rival!Reader

Warnings: swearing

Summary: a lot of media attention and some solo time isn’t enough to keep paige away from you.

A/n: one more chap after this then we done 😛

YOU WAKE UP with a pounding headache, not as engulfing as last night but still enough to induce a groan as you lift your head from your pillow.

The hotel-white pillowcase is smeared with residual makeup and your hair feels tangled and unruly. It was surprising how well you slept, seeing as multiple things had happened the night before that should’ve kept you up till morning. You look around to see the hotel room is empty, then check your phone for the time. It’s 1:34pm, you’ve slept into the afternoon.

Your phone is absolutely filled with notifications.

JUJU-KINS😘

U up?

Coach is lit tweaking rn

U bouta be getting media trained FOR LIFE

ELAINEY 🤞

hey

can we talk pls?

ur only in town for a couple more days

it’s not as bad as it seems i swear

i was drunk

COACH

Call me when you see this message.

I hope you already know what you’ve done wrong so I don’t have to waste my time.

You’re smarter than this!

Collapsing on your bed again, you bury yourself in the sheets. Being in Connecticut had just turned out to be a nightmare, you’ve barely interacted with your teammates, your friendship with Elaine was ruined, you’ve had the most confusing relationship with Paige and you’ve made a fool of yourself online.

You shoot a quick text to Juju as well as some other teammates who’ve checked up on you, being sure to ignore Elaine’s texts. You find yourself re-reading your messages with Paige, thankfully your drunk brain hadn’t texted anything too out of pocket, and though you clearly remember her typing after your last message she hadn’t responded since then.

Your call with Coach was the most dreaded of all, you truly respected and feared her, so sitting through an almost half-hour phone call about your responsibilities, failures, expectations and repercussions was awful.

In short, you were to be off of social media until back in state, live privileges were fully revoked, if you were to be found partying and clubbing you’d be in massive trouble, you had to issue a statement on Instagram and twitter (which was pre-written by some professional), and the next practice you participate in will be the worst practice you’ve ever experienced in the history of bad practices. Most probably an insane amount of sprints.

You release your statements on Instagram and Twitter, but before deleting the apps you check out Paige’s comments. She’d obviously received a similar order. Her Instagram story consisted of a black screen and a small box of text, simply entailing how spreading love and positivity while uplifting other players is an obligation she intends to follow from this point onwards.

Her twitter had two new tweets:

paigebueckers1 : Me and (Name) have had some truly special experiences in college basketball. She’s an amazing player who is only gonna go higher and get better as she grows. When I was a junior I was stuck in crutches hoping for the chance I have now. (Name) as a junior herself is absolutely killing it on the court and I for one will always be rooting for her, competitive comments online or not. Keep doin what you’re doin @yourusername !

paigebueckers1 : God is good! 🙏

Turning your phone off, the only thing you’re thinking is ‘you’re so full of shit.’

You wonder if she wrote that herself or if somebody wrote it for her and made it seem like it was her own typing. Regardless, it didn’t matter anymore. You’d had your experience with the Big East Champion, and it was enough for a lifetime.

The amount of content coming out regarding you and Paige was insanely overwhelming. Debates online regarding your skills, looks, personality and basically anything the public can grasp were rampant. You and Paige had been a bit of a scandal ever since she shaded you on that panel, and the media had been seriously following you two back and forth between the seemingly friendly interactions and more hostile ones.

Eventually you stumble upon something different. A video of you and Paige in the background of KK and Ice’s live that day in the coffee shop. You can see yourself fumbling with napkins, and Paige approaching. It’s almost entrancing to see everything play out from another perspective, to see how her face eases into a smile at your smartass comments, to relive your own amused emotion at her stare, to watch Paige speedily write her number on a napkin before the camera shifts and the live ends.

You’re unsure how to react to all of this. No matter how close or far you could get with Paige, would it ever amount to anything? To the slightest bit of trust? Her lips were almost on yours that evening in the street, but just an hour earlier she had lied to your face about knowing Elaine.

You recall what Elaine drunkenly spat out during your argument outside the bar.

“N’ I’ll tell you what. She’s going to play your ass and you’re never gonna get over it, cus that’s what she does.”

Was this spoken out of experience, or a mixture of jealousy and intoxication? Had Elaine once been that girl on the street, inches away?

You can’t help but think it wasn’t the case. Paige bit her tongue around you to stifle a laugh or to hold back a rebuttal to your teasing. When it came to Elaine, Paige bit her tongue in a different way. A loathing way. You couldn’t explain it.

Plus, Elaine had said herself that you were not Paige’s usual type. If she meant you and her were not alike, that was the truth. You and Paige had more of a history, more similar lifestyles and experiences, more. At least you assumed so.

Finally, you decide you’ve done enough thinking for the day. It was time to line up some plans, maybe meet up with the team for a couple hours and then hoop solo in the evening. Anything to distract from the situation.

The sound of a basketball against the blacktop, the hollow bounce that always found itself back to your hand. It’s sustenance to you, it’s breathing.

Storrs had been blessed with a hotter Sunday then usual, even in your shorts and t-shirt you were sweating, shooting hoops the same way you’ve been doing since you were a child.

The court was empty and outdoors, perfect for you to hold the ball for a moment and admire the scenery, the changing colours of the sky as afternoon fades to evening.

You hear the bounce of a ball again, but yours is secured in your hand.

“Hey.”

You’re not surprised to see her. The sink in your stomach as you meet her eyes in almost predictable.

“What are the chances.” You scoff. “Don’t you have like, the entire UConn gym to hoop?”

“I come to this court all the time.” Paige narrows her eyes. “It’s usually peaceful.”

“I figured.” You say curtly, turning your head to see the setting sun. It was very peaceful, even with the impending silence between you and the blonde.

“How drunk were you last night?” Paige asks.

You spin around to give her a look. “Drunk enough to get on live,” You scoff. “but sober enough to read a text and send it without regrets.”

At the mention of your short conversation with Paige over text, you can see her cringe. She obviously hadn’t been expecting you to find out about her relationship with your friend, let alone be so upfront with it.

“I never fucked her in my car…just so you know.” She finally manages to breath out.

You almost bark out a laugh at this. “You think I’m mad cus you fucked her?” You ask, walking towards Paige and lightly dribbling the ball. She simply stares at you, mouth slightly agape.

“Are you not?”

“Is the blonde fucking seeping into your head?” You snap, mentally celebrating as her lips forms a straight line. “If you don’t know, you better figure it out.”

Paige brings a hand to her face, rubbing her forehead as if it’s aching. Her eyes are wide and analyzing you, thinking of the best way to respond.

“Go on,” you tease her. “tell me why I’m mad.”

You’re close to her now, too close for comfort. You can see her smile lines, her plush lips, her silver chain glinting beneath the black long sleeve she’s wearing. The sleeves are rolled up, and you can’t help but noticed how veiny her arms are, how her long fingers are holding the basketball against her body.

Biting her lip, Paige finally responds. “You’re mad because I lied.”

“Smart girl.” You scoff, almost choking on your breath when her jaw clenches at your comment. “I’m mad cus you lied to my face. And cus you went on live and shit talked me again for no reason.”

You and her stare at each other for a long moment before she breaks a smile. “That was my bad.” She murmurs. “I was uh, Ion’ know. I was in sum kinda mood.”

“The mood to lie?” You raise your eyebrow. “Or the mood to be a bitch?”

“Don’t call me a bitch.” She scowls, and you’re reminded of the last time you called her that, at the end of your game against UConn.

“That’s what you are, Bueckers.” You say with a smile, eyeing her down and getting in her face just a little more. “Bitches lie, bitches make problems out of nothing.”

Her eye is fiercely trained on you, on the way your lips move as you degrade her. You can’t tell what she’s thinking in the slightest.

“(Name), I’m sorry.” She says softly.

Once again you two are staring in silence. The proximity is intoxicating, you can practically smell her clean clothes.

“Are you still fucking Elaine?”

“Hell no.” Paige shakes her head furiously. “That ended a while ago. We haven’t talked in like months.”

“She still has your location.” You grumble. “That’s how she knew I was with you at the restaurant.”

“Shit.” Paige groans, immediately pulling out her phone. “She interrupted us on purpose then? Psycho.”

You watch as she turns off her location for Elaine and blocks her before slipping her phone back in her pocket.

“We didn’t hookup for long.” Paige says, obviously feeling the need to explain herself. “Jus a couple times. I broke things off, she couldn’t accept how busy my schedule was.”

You shrug, not knowing what to say.

“Guess she couldn’t accept you and me either, huh?” Paige smirks, shooting you a ‘forgive me’ type look.

Ignoring the swell in your heart at the stupid comment, you just chuckle and shake your head.

“Do you wanna 1v1?” She asks almost sheepishly.

You think for a moment.

“You sure I’m on your level?”

Paige looks embarrassed for a moment, remembering what she said on her live. “Quit playin.” She rolls her eyes. “C’mon, show me what you got.”

You’d be lying if you were to say you knew the score.

Was she taking score? You and Paige were equally insanely competitive, but this wasn’t a true test of skill. This was a test of endurance. A test to see who would break first.

You knew this when her hand grazed your waist as she darted past you to the other end of the court, or when she stared you down, tongue between her lips as she blocked your shot. You retaliated yourself, letting your hand linger a bit too long as you helped her up from the ground after tripping her up, or whistling at her as she makes another three.

The heavy breathing, the piercing stares, the cold air as the sun disappeared. You were in a zone you’d never been in before, somehow equally focused on the game and the girl.

You manage to steal the ball from Paige in a swift moment, but suddenly she’s in front of you again. Her hands dart for the ball, attempting to smack it out of your hand. She almost manages to steal it back, but your grip tightens just at the right moment.

She’s stuck to you, her hands attempting to pry the ball out of your own. You can hear her breath, you can see the beaded sweat on her forehead, you can feel her blue eyes watching you, watching your chest widen and shrink with every inhale and exhale, watching your lips.

It’s a replay of the college game that started all of this.

You struggle for a moment longer before the tousle is not longer controlled, the ball slips between both of your sweaty hands. You and Paige both scramble to save it, but it bounces out of your grasps and away from the court.

Neither of you chase after it.

She’s still up close to you, face flushed from the game.

“What was the score?” She huffs, out of breath. Paige’s voice is raspy and tired. You feel something spark inside of you.

“No clue.”

Paige’s face breaks into a small smirk as her hands find your waist, uncertain and soft, just barely ghosting your frame. “That was my ball.”

“Shut up.” You mumble, your heart hammering at the feeling of her eyes exploring every part of you, lingering on your lips before she finally leans in.

Paige’s lips are rough against yours, but fit perfectly as if moulded for your own. She melts into you, her hands finally tightening around your body, her face tilting just right so she can finally taste you. It’s something you didn’t know you’d been waiting for. She kisses with a million emotions, with urgency, passion and the slightest bit of control. It’s electrical.

When you need to break the kiss to breath, you simply tug on her ponytail. You were not expecting the slight whimper as your lips part.

“M’ not done.” She mutters against you, catching her breath.

“I want you, P.” You whisper, looking up at her. Paige’s face immediately changes at this, lips tilting upward in an annoyingly charismatic way.

“I know you do, baby.” She murmurs. “Let me take you home.”

#fanfiction #fanfic #paige bueckers #uconn wbb #paige bueckers x reader #paige buckets #rpf #rivals to lovers #paige x reader #uconn women’s basketball #f/f #series

475 notes · View notes

gotham-daydreams · 17 days

Text

Not Now (PT. 1)

[Platonic! Yandere! Neglectful Batfam × Gender Neutral! Sibling Reader]

[Warnings: Mentions of Neglect, Mild General Yandere(ish) Behavior, Mild Arguing, Awkward Tension(?)]

(Sorry, forgive and forget isn't an option anymore. Sort of proofread and lightly edited. If you thought the 2nd chapter was long, you're in for a little treat. A little more focus on Dick this time with some sprinkles of the others, and a bit of Tim in the beginning. Meeting some of the reader's friends now. The 2nd part is longer... and sort of where the 'real' stuff happens, but this part of the chapter is still important imo. Take your time reading this, and remember to take breaks!)

Tags: @bigcandlesmolbrain, @d4mi3nn , @mindscape123, @143637-hrrm, @lilyalone, @ceramic-raven , @bruhfan-3 , @i-thirsty-boi , @yandere-enthusiast , @1mawh0re , @vanessa-boo , @agent-nobody-knows , @myeagleexpert , @waitingforanarchicaddiction , @mottysith , @simpingfor-wakasa , @imjustheretogetalif , @toast-on-dandelioms , @instantmiraclekryptonite , @luvr0cksadie , @littlefeather345 , @generosityheart , @emmbny , @sereinitysmind , @love-zami , @angstylittleb1tch , @kiiyoooo , @andrasia , @aenishas , @gyarukitti , @ash1 , @samohxt2-0 , @books-are-everything , @kurai-hono-blog , @veryrascalbiscuitbagel , @lavender-moony

@vikkus-main, @ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhha, @iloveanimeandkpop7, @spacecerealbowl,

If you aren't tagged then I'm sorry! I may have missed you, or tumblr was being weird and it wouldn't work :']

Chapter 3 of this post. Chapter 2. Part 2. [Series Masterlist]

๑۩۞۩๑————————————————————๑۩۞۩๑

The night was young when everything went to chaos.

The streets were empty for a change, with no one daring to step outside. With those who once roamed them making an effort to quickly step inside, and wait out the rest of the night. Deciding to be more careful, and not tempt fate one too many times for once.

There was something different about tonight, that much everyone knew, but what exactly was going on was anyone's guess. Something was in the air that made it thicker, and harder to breathe. The atmosphere felt different, and weighed down on the city's residents. No civilian or thug was safe from the sudden change and the effects it had on Gotham. Not to mention that the vigilantes — the people who dared to protect Gotham during its darkest hours — seemed more focused than usual.

Not in the way where they were more focused on targeting crime in Gotham, and getting rid of her more corrupted and infectious roots, but in some… other way. Like they were focusing on one particular thing, and ignoring everything else in the process.

What that thing is, no one knew, but most were wary and cautious enough to not get in the way. Unwilling to find out what would happen if they got caught in the crossfire of whatever was happening.

However, this is still Gotham. Where some saw danger, others saw opportunity. So they tried to start something, thinking they could sneak right past the heroes of the city, and fly under their radar more easily compared to previous nights because of how focused they seemed to be on something else.

Yet, just as the fire began to lit, it was snuffed out.

A heavy stomp stopped the flames from even daring to light, killing it before it could even think to rise. The stomp itself coming down much more swiftly and heavier than before, digging the thugs it hit into the ground. They, the vigilantes who dared to protect Gotham and their citizens night after night, were harsher that way. More brutal than the city had ever seen them before, and that was quick to kill off some sparks that were trying to light. They were quicker, faster, and hit a whole lot harder. As if just wanting to get things over with, and quickly move on.

It was almost like they were rushing, and whoever thought that wouldn't be entirely wrong.

They just wanted to put all of their time and energy into finding you, but still had half a mind to take care of the crime in Gotham. Since, they'd have to deal with it anyway if they wanted things to go as smoothly as possible. Not to mention the off chance that some thugs could be messing with you, and so they'd get to swoop in and save you if they ever ran into such an altercation. Though, they didn't want to run around and just hope for that chance, so they also chose certain places and people to interrogate and search for. Taking out any and all thugs as well as minor criminals along the way.

As if anyone in their way was doomed from the day they were born, and dared to step foot in Gotham. As if they were cursed the very moment they dared to live in this damned city at all.

Nevertheless, some went after your teachers while others went to search through places you had been to for one reason or another. Whether it was for a performance or otherwise, it didn't matter. The fact that you had been there before was the only detail they cared about.

Finding you, and any information about you came first. Everything else was secondary.

That's why Tim was more focused on trying to find more… personal information about you. From your email, to where you lived, and who your friends are — he wanted to know everything. Even if he already had your phone number, you weren't responding or picking up whatsoever. Which wasn't exactly helping him calm down.

If only he could track your phone somehow-

["You have any new information yet?"]

Jason suddenly spoke up, making Tim scoff and narrow his eyes at the computer screen he was looking at, as if it was Jason's face.

How annoying.

"You've asked that question several times in the last fifteen minutes."

["And? Do you have any new information, or what?”]

Tim could only roll his eyes, having been scrolling through so many social media posts and pages, that he had lost count of exactly how many he had gone through or looked at. All he knew was that the total amount was quickly approaching triple digits.

Anything mentioning you caught his interest, and eventually he had found your public account — which, as expected, just held dates for your performances and when a new album or song of yours would be coming out. There were also a few previews of songs you would be playing at the time, had written, or both, and as much as Tim would like to listen to them all, he couldn't. Not right now anyway. He had to focus, for you.

… Though he'd keep it in mind for later.

"Besides more places where Y/n has performed, and when? No. Who could've guessed."

Jason scoffs, which almost made Tim smile a little but he quickly wiped it off his face, focusing again.

["Guys, let's not fight, alright? Just focus on finding Y/n."]

Dick suddenly spoke as well, the sounds of a fight slowly dying down could faintly be heard in the background.

["I'm not trying to start a fight, but y'know what would help with finding Y/n? Some fucking new information."]

["Language!" Dick sighs before continuing, "Look, just calm down-"]

["I am calm."]

["-and focus. We'll find them."]

Jason clicks his tongue, clearly getting upset.

Tim couldn't say much, seeing as he's already a bit upset himself, but that wasn't really saying much either. All of them were getting progressively frustrated and annoyed, but it was the source of those feelings that were different for each and every one of them. You were a big part of it, of course, but their anger wasn't directed towards you — not for Tim, anyway. Never.

Rather, it's the factors that surrounded you, and maybe their hate and guilt towards themselves, and what they've missed in your life — is what really drove them to try as hard as they are now. They all want to see you, but they have their own separate reasons despite how similar they may seem.

["How the hell can you be so sure? They could be getting killed, or being tortured right now. We need to find them as soon as possible- and you'll never guess what we need for that to happen."]

Tim could practically hear the eye roll in Jason's voice.

["We're all trying to find Y/n as fast as we can! Have a little faith, they can fight-"]

["You don't actually believe that, right?"]

["..."]

Dick's silence spoke volumes, but some of them understood it better than others, because they feel the same way. Fighting in tournaments and in controlled environments is different than fighting out in the streets, and in Gotham no less. No amount of trophies or medals could change their minds on that. Nothing could.

["See? Even you don't believe it."]

[Dick sighs, "Look, let's just keep looking while Babs and Tim grab more information, alright? We have to be patient."]

["That's reeeal rich coming from the guy who rushed out of the fucking Manor, the very second he heard Alfred didn't know where Y/n was. Weren't you the first one to start looking for them in the city?"]

["Y/n isn't going to be dead in the next few minutes, Jason-"]

["You don't fucking know that."]

Again, a brief silence passes as Dick just sighs again.

["Grayson does have a point, Todd."]

Damian spoke up, causing Tim to roll his eyes almost instinctively. Just remembering that he was technically working with the youngest Wayne, made his mood worsen. Though he just pushed his annoyance to the side, and continued his search.

If it were up to him, he wouldn't be working with half of the family, but that's the thing — he didn't have a choice. None of them really did. Finding you was just that important to them. You, in general, had become that important to them, and in just a few mere hours no less. Even if it left a few of them biting their tongues, and hiding their clear distaste for having to work with certain people. Still, they tried to work together to the best of their ability.

Tim just took a breath, still listening in on the conversation as he scrolls through even more websites and pages. A collection of photos and announcements leading him down a rabbit hole of posts, and finding some accounts that Tim was beginning to think belonged to your friends with how often they commented, the things they'd say, and how you'd respond. Even if the majority of those comments were on older posts, it was still something. So, he dug deeper.

Eventually, he came to the conclusion that your personal account was private. Since, he found one of the accounts he thought belonged to one of your friend's, and they mentioned an account Tim couldn't access. Of course, he hacked it and got in, but there still wasn't anything of use from what he could see. The occasional pictures were nice, even if they didn't show your face too often, but they didn't give him any information he could use to locate you. Hell, even the account itself didn't have a set location listed, and nor did your email. With the only thing he could gather from posts you privated being that you were still in Gotham, at the very least.

However it did seem like you not only didn't post too often, but were careful about what you posted even on your private account. Not to mention who you posted about as well, and how you worded things. As if you knew someone would be looking through your posts someday, and try to find you. As if you knew Tim would be looking through your page, and try to find you by the little bits of information he thought you'd accidentally leave behind. However, all he found was mostly inconclusive with his current objective. The most he could gather was that you either lived in an apartment, were staying with a friend, or settling at various hotels and such just to have a roof over your head. Though not much else.

Sighing, he kept looking.

Just where are you?

["Oh yeah? How so, demon spawn?"]

["Jason-!"]

["L/n knows how to fight, they can surely take care of themself for a few minutes." Damian states. Cutting off Dick, and ignoring the name Jason used to refer to him.]

["Oh, so you believe that?" Jason scoffs.]

["I haven't been given a reason to think otherwise."]

["Right. Okay. So let's say that Y/n isn't dead for a second here. Do you know how many enemies they could potentially have? Or just how many people want them dead? They're known as a Wayne kid, and a musician too, apparently. Anyone could be after their head, or want to squeeze some money out of them for all we know. How are they supposed to fight against threats like that?"]

["And you think they aren't prepared for that? With how much time has passed, I doubt they'd still remain ignorant to such risks. Especially with the career they've chosen as well." Damian scoffs, as if frustrated and offended on your behalf, "No wonder L/n left."]

["Damian!" Dick exclaims, the youngest Robin's words clearly uncalled for.]

["What? You don't truly believe they just ‘ran away’. Do you, Grayson? Even Father doesn't believe such nonsense."]

Tim could only remain silent, but he had suspected as much as well. He didn't particularly enjoy agreeing with Damian, but for a change, it seemed that they were on the same page.

After all, the more Tim looked, and the deeper his research went, the possibility of you having left, instead of ran away, was turning into a clear certainty. Not to mention that various details he noticed in different posts, seemed to indicate that you had no intentions of coming back home, further proving that thought to be true.

It wasn't really even through posts you made either, but instead posts your friends had made. Various pictures and videos shared on their accounts showing the pieces of your life that the family had missed out on. Showing Tim what he had missed out on.

From parties and celebrations that were held for your accomplishments and your friend's, to events you attended with them instead of someone from your family. To smaller things such as various study sessions that were held, sleepovers and all the fun activities you did with your friends, to sneaky photos taken of you practicing, and how nervous you used to be behind stage — only to later show how confident and comfortable you had grown in more recent pictures.

He saw your life and nearly every part of it he had missed through someone else's eyes. Through the camera lens that captured how much fun you had, or just how happy you were during the time the photo was taken, or how calm you looked as you set up your instrument and prepared to play it, and how focused you became when you did. Videos that showed you getting into the zone, and displaying your amazing skill and talent that Tim never saw up until now. That the rest of the family never knew about until recently, just because they couldn't put a few seconds to the side to even try and give your music a listen. Just because they never made time for you, and now they were finally paying the price for it. Finally realizing what they had truly lost, and why the occasional, soft melodies that would play at night had stopped entirely.

They had pushed you away, and you left. That was the true reality of the situation.

Yet the others didn't seem to believe it, or maybe refused to. Seeing as no one dared to say anything else for a few moments.

["... Bruce?" Dick hesitantly spoke up, he clearly didn't want to think about it. Let alone consider it.]

A heavy sigh could be heard before Bruce said anything.

["It's a possibility." His cold, calculated voice pierced through the air. It was less clear, but he didn't seem too fond of the idea either.]

["'Possibility'? Father, you can't be serious-" Damian tries to speak up, only to get cut off.]

["Exactly! Yeah! It's only a possibility, and we won't know for sure unless we find them." Stephanie pitches in, clearly trying to stay a little positive despite the situation.]

["Right…" Dick took a breath, "Well, what do you think, Tim?"]

"..."

Tim's silence said everything, and besides, he was much too focused on a particular thing he managed to find to really be paying attention anyway.

["... Tim?"]

["To think that Drake would be the only other sensible person here. Unbelievable."]

["Look- we don't know for sure, okay? But anyway, how did the interrogation go? Find out anything?"]

The rest of the conversation fell into the background. Tim would roll his eyes, but again, something else had caught his attention, seeing as he found a rather peculiar post.

On one of your friends' accounts, there was a post that showed you and two other people. All of you were wearing formal clothes, and stepping out of a theater that Tim recognized. The person taking the selfie had an arm wrapped around your shoulders, and he noted that they were the owner of the account. The other person was hugging your arm, and did bunny ears behind your head. All of you were smiling, and you looked so… happy..

Tim shook his head, and just focused on the individual hugging your arm. He didn't recognize them, not completely anyway, but noticed how their account was tagged in the post, and how it was an account he hadn't looked into yet. So, he went to their page and scrolled through their various posts. A particular detail already catching his interest as he scrolled down.

This person seemed to spend a lot of time with you…

Not that your other friends didn't, but this person seemed to have more posts with you in them, compared to the other accounts Tim has looked through thus far. There were many photos of you both hanging out, with some other personal posts sprinkled in here and there — but Tim isn't here for that. He's looking for you, so of course he ignored posts that didn't involve you.

Most of the photos showed you both hanging out and doing various activities together. With Tim's heart squeezing the more he saw, and further began to realize just how much of your life he had missed. Though he pushed it all to the side, just as he has been doing this entire time.

He could feel terrible about all the nights you spent away from home, and how no one noticed, later. He could feel guilty about all the time he's wasted not being with you when given the chance after he found you.

Only then, once you were safe again, once you were home, would he allow himself to feel the full weight of all he hadn't done. Though only when you were home, would he let himself fully see and realize just how little of an impact he had on your life. How he may as well have just been nothing but a figment of your imagination with how often he was present, along with everyone else.

Though, for that, he had to find you first, and he will, so he kept looking.

Eventually, he did stumble across a curious post. One that not only confirmed his suspicions, but also gave the most important piece of information Tim could've found right now.

It was another photo taken without your knowledge, seeing as your back was facing the camera, and a bit of your friend's face could be shown. You were moving some boxes into a building, and your friend seemed to be covering their mouth with their other hand — as if they had been laughing and were trying to cover it up. The caption of the post said how you lost a bet, and now had to move in most of the boxes yourself, but how they'd help you if they saw you genuinely struggling. Only to put in parentheses how viewers of the post shouldn't tell you that.

However, what caught his interest was the text on the image itself, and what parts of the building were shown.

['First day of moving in!!! Already making my bestie hate me by having them do all of the work♡ They're the best! Look at them go ♡♡'] The text in the photo read, with the building itself having a number, among various other details to suggest that it was an apartment building.

Tim felt his heart leap to his throat. No way, had he really…? No. No, he couldn't get his hopes up, but he searched for the building by using the other photos your friend had taken that eventually got him a street name and number. It didn't even take him a minute to find the exact building that perfectly mirrored the one in your friend's photo.

He tried to not work himself up too much, as he didn't waste any time finding the building's security system, and hacking into it. He didn't want to get his hopes up, only to end up disappointed. He didn't want to think about certain things or make up assumptions, only for them to turn up untrue. Yet, his heart rate increased as his hands began to shake despite his efforts.

No way, he thought. No way.

Getting into the system was a breeze, but Tim could hardly focus on that as he immediately looked through the building's security footage. He matched the dates of both the post and footage, and found you bringing in boxes, just as the photo had shown.

He watched you go into the elevator and took note of what floor you went up to, and eventually what apartment you walked into as well once you got there. Tim even observed as you took a second to yourself, sighing before going back down, and doing the process all over again — and even how you had to use the stairs at one point. Seeing as your friend had the bright idea to 'race' you, and see who could get most of the remaining boxes to the apartment in the least amount of time. It was a close tie, and your friend had won, but that's besides the point.

Tim went through other footage just to make sure he had the right information, and knew for certain that you lived in this particular apartment with your friend. For all he knew, you could've just offered to help them move in that day, so he had to be sure. He had to be certain. He couldn't afford to be wrong this time around.

Yet with all the footage he was able to review, and all the dates getting closer and closer to the current day, he was able to confirm it. He saw you walk in and out of that exact apartment on that exact floor, and leave and enter that exact building multiple times. With the amount of time that's passed, it made sense — even if Tim couldn't figure out where you had stayed between the few weeks you had presumably left the Manor and when you moved in with your friend, but that hardly mattered now. What did matter is that he found out where you live, and now had your address.

He almost couldn't believe it, staring at the document where he has been listing all of the information he's gathered from this search.

Having just finished writing down your address, it all felt so unreal.

He's done it. He's finally done it.

"Holy shit." Tim cursed under his breath, disbelief clear in his voice.

["Language, Tim."]

Bruce's voice suddenly sounded, causing Tim to jump before he quickly tried to settle down.

"Right, sorry." He apologized, placing a hand over his racing heart. God, that scared him more than it should've.

["Did you find anything?"]

Someone tsked at the question – while Tim just looked at his screen, still processing all that's happened, and suddenly feeling unsure.

Should he just keep this to himself, so that he could go after you? The others didn't know where you live… they didn't have to know yet. This was a golden opportunity — should he really be giving this up?

["With how long it's been? And all he's been able to find out? We'll be lucky if he even knows if Y/n is dating or not."]

["Jason, c'mon.." Dick tried to pitch in, dragging on.]

["What? I'm just saying-"]

"I know where Y/n lives." He found himself blurting out, Jason's words irritating him more than they would've. More than they should've.

["... Really? Where are they, Tim?" Dick didn't waste a moment to ask.]

["Yeah, just spill already so we can go get them."]

["Send me their location."]

["Send me the info too!"]

Tim could only sigh, rubbing his temple as he tried to collect his thoughts. Of course he just had to run his mouth before thinking things over. Of course he had to let that little comment get to him. Of course he just had to allow it to get to him so much that it made him give up the most important piece of information he had found out tonight.

Of course. Just great.

["Guys, I don't think it's a good idea for all of you to just go and see Y/n."]

Barbara finally spoke up, voice calm and collected.

["Why? I mean, I get that seeing the whole family all at once might be a little overwhelming… but I don't see why a few of us can't go." Dick questioned.]

["Because it's been months since they've last seen any of us? There's a reason why they haven't gone back to the Manor, and still haven't picked up your or Tim's calls."]

["... You're not saying-"]

["I'm just suggesting that maybe only one of you should go to kind of… test out the waters. We can't be sure of anything, and the best way to see how we should go about things is to know how Y/n feels about us first."]

["But we need to bring them home, they're not safe out here." Jason pointed out, already not liking the idea.]

["I know, but we can't just show up and expect them to comply because we're family. For all we know, they might-"]

["Okay! Um, I think we get it now." Stephanie interrupted, the idea already bothering her.]

["Fine, then I'll go." Jason proposed, sounding like he was just finishing up taking out a few thugs, if the faint noises in the background were anything to go by.]

"And why's that? I already have the location, so I'll go." Tim pointed out, already gathering his stuff, preparing to leave as quickly as he could.

["Because if they try anything, I'll be able to stop them. What're you going to do with your scrawny, lanky arms?"]

"They won't fight me, Jason." Tim sighed, as if that was obvious, "and besides, I thought you didn't think they could fight anyway?"

["I don't, but anyone could take you down without even trying."]

["Jay! Ugh," Dick groans, "Look, I'll go, okay?"]

["Oh yeah? And why should you go instead of me?"]

["Because at least I won't scare them off, and if anything happens then I can handle it too."]

["I'm going." Bruce stepped in, speaking as if the decision was already made.]

["If Father is going, then so am I." Damian chipped in.]

["The last person Y/n needs to see right now is definitely you, demon spawn." Jason scoffed.]

["You'll just scare them before you even get a word in, Bruce!" Dick tried to reason.]

["Hey, um, what if I go instead? At least I won't intimidate them or push them to come with us too hard." Stephanie suggested.]

Tim sighed, "Look, I can go and reason with them. Again, I already have the location so it makes sense-"

["No." Bruce said flatly.]

"But why!?"

["Father already said that he and I are going to see L/n," Damian stated, as if it was obvious, with a small scoff. Adding on, "Todd may also have a point."]

"So?! I already have the information, and I already said that Y/n won't fight me!"

["We can't say for sure what they will and won't do," Dick said, trying to deescalate the situation, "like Babs said, it's been a while. We don't know how they'll react or how they feel about us."]

["Is this you just trying to seem reasonable, so you can go see them first?" Jason asked, unconvinced.]

["What?! Of course not-!"]

["You're not really convincing anyone here, Dick…" Stephanie pointed out.]

The back and forth went on for a while. None of them could come to an agreement, as they all want to see you. They all want to be the first to actually meet you, and to experience what they all have found out about you first hand. Even if certain individuals were more guilty of that than others, the point still remained.

They just want to see you so much, could you really blame any of them?

Barbara sighed at the chaos, the arguments and defenses just getting more and more ridiculous. Eventually, just boiling down to certain people trying to prove that they want to see you more compared to others, and therefore should be the first to see you.

They all miss you, or desperately want to see the idea of you that they had created in their heads, but that wasn't a valid reason for why they should go and see you either. Especially considering how important this meeting would be. Since it would change and determine a lot of things, depending on how well or awful it went.

"Guys, look, just- whoever's the closest to the location should go." Barbara suggested with another sigh, which thankfully caused the constant arguing to stop for now.

["Fine, alright then." Tim agreed, albeit reluctantly.]

Barbara could only be a little thankful for the cooperation, but slowly grew confused at the silence that followed.

"Tim?" She asked, only to get another sigh as a response.

["It's Dick."]

["What? Really?!" Dick exclaimed, clearly happy at this turn of events.]

["Yes." Tim confirmed with a small groan, the frown evident in his voice.]

"Well, that settles it. Dick, you're going. Tim, send him the address. The right address, okay? We don't need more arguments or complications on this." Barbara says, "Don't push them too hard. The last thing we need is for their opinion of us to get worse, Dick."

["I know, I know. It'll be fine! I've got this!" Dick still sounded a little too happy, before suddenly going quiet.]

Barbara could only hope for the best at this rate.

["Did he seriously just turn off his comm link, and leave?" Jason asked as his voice rose, clearly upset.]

["Seems like it. Can't say I'm surprised since he sounded reallly happy to be able to see Y/n." Stephanie confirmed, sighing softly.]

["This is going to go poorly." Damian grimaced with another scoff.]

["Yeah, well, we can only hope he doesn't mess up too badly."]

["Let's try to think a little realistically, Tim." Jason said.]

Barbara just let out a huff as she looked at the screens in front of her. A little hope never killed anyone, but really, she didn't have a good feeling about this.

Maybe Dick really wasn't the best choice.

—

You were still calmly sitting in your apartment, messing around with the instrument in your hands. Since you've been switching between the ones you have every now and again, trying to find a particular melody you were looking for, but hadn't found just yet. You didn't have easy access to as many instruments as you did a few months ago, but you learned to work with what you had. Having taken home the very first instrument you bought yourself, and a few more of your favorites that could fit in the apartment that you managed to get your hands on for a decent price.

Sure, you did have other places you could go to that allowed you to play the other instruments you didn't have, but you liked to play at home if you could help it. There was just something about being in a comfortable space while composing a song or melody, that just felt nice. You truly felt at home, a feeling you didn't realize you missed until you left the manor and finally had a space that you could truly call your own. A feeling you didn't want to let go of, if you could help it.

Your life was still busy but it was beginning to slow down. You dedicated more time to things you actually enjoyed, but also made an effort to take care of yourself and hold onto good habits you had developed over the years. Though you were still trying to let go of some bad ones, you were making progress.

You felt… happy here. At peace, even.

You were surrounded by people that saw you and even recognized you, and were beginning to see that you had a family of your very own all along.

Unlike the family you were adopted into, your friends showed their care and support — and if anything, made sure you wouldn't forget it. With you showing the same care and support back, and your efforts being recognized instead of pushed to the side. Being reciprocated instead of leaving you with nothing, and making you feel more alone and unwanted than words could describe.

Sure, it wasn't perfect, and you've had your fair share of arguments and times where you needed space, but that was okay. You didn't need perfection, and you didn't need constant happiness. You just needed love and care, and that's what you found. Among other things you didn't ask for or necessarily need, but appreciated deeply regardless.

You felt like you had finally found what you've been searching for, and nothing could make you happier.

Yet, somewhere in your heart, you knew it couldn't last forever, and as if hearing your worries, an abrupt knock echoed throughout the apartment.

You paused what you were doing, humming curiously to yourself as you turned to look at the front door from your position on the couch. Who could that be at this hour? It certainly wasn't your roommate, seeing as they were sound asleep in their room, and you could still hear their snores despite being in the living room. So who else could it be?

Maybe it was Ms. Harry again, seeing as she had a bit of an odd tendency to knock on the wrong door sometimes. After all, she was old, and her memory was slowly getting worse, but she was always quick to fix her mistakes. So you just shrugged and turned away, convinced that it was another one of those nights where she just so happened to mistakenly knock on your door. So you let it be, knowing that she'd correct herself on her own and move along.

However, another set of knocks sounded.

They were a little louder this time, as if the person on the other side of the door really did want to be noticed. Which made you pause and look back at the door, taking a brief glance at the clock.

It was getting late, and not many people were out and about during this time of night. Not the people on your floor, anyway. Though, you still tried to think of anyone who could be at the door right now.

Besides your roommate, not many of your friends lived particularly close. With the amount of them that would not only be up at this time of night, but would also personally come to bother you without sending a text or anything, being even smaller. The more you think about it, the shorter the list of potential people got, and you don't know if that should make you more confused or worried. Maybe a bit of both, but you weren't sure.

More knocks sounded. Again, they were louder compared to the last set, if only by a little.

Well, whoever was at your door was being rather persistent, so you decided to at least check it out.

Reluctantly, you set the instrument you had been fiddling with for the past hour to the side. Sighing softly as you got up from your spot on the couch, and quietly approached the door.

Moving about as silently as you could was an odd habit you couldn't shake, and while your friends have joked and commented about it, you suppose it was just another remnant of your life in the manor. A life you were still trying to gradually leave behind.

Regardless, you made your way to the door, and yet here — right at the foot of it, an odd feeling began to blossom in your chest. You couldn't make sense of it, but as you reached for the knob, you found yourself stopping. It didn't feel like a good idea to open the door, and though you couldn't figure out why, you just took a small breath and pushed the feeling to the side.

Clearly, you were having a weird night, but just to humor yourself, you decided to 'comply' with whatever this feeling was, and check who was at the door by looking through the peephole instead.

It was only then did you understand.

You took a few silent steps back, putting your hand over your mouth as you kept your eyes on the door. Tingles of unease slowly crawling down your spine, and your heart began to beat against your chest harshly. You don't know if what you saw was real, but you didn't want to check again. Once felt like enough, especially since your legs felt like they were sinking into the floor.

How… how did they know where you live?

You took a breath, trying to calm your nerves as you took a few more steps away from the door. You have no idea what's going on, but all you know was that you don't want Dick knowing where you live. He might know the floor and building, but you refuse to give him the exact room if you could help it. So, you quickly moved to your room and got ready, a quick plan forming in your head.

Changing was easy, and so was gathering the stuff you thought you'd need for this. Not exactly too worried about the shoes you put on or anything like that, as your heart leapt from your chest to your throat when more knocks came, basically pounding against the door.

Fuck. He was getting impatient.

Picking up the pace, you made any last minute adjustments you could to your appearance, before quickly deciding that you looked good enough to be outside. Rushing to a window, you didn't waste any time opening it, grabbing onto a pipe that was exposed on the side of the building, closing the window, and sliding down the pipe until you reached the ground. Thanking your past self for having done that enough times to be used to it.

Knowing for a fact that you heard more knocks on your way down, you hurriedly rushed back into the apartment building and basically ran to the elevator. Thanking the gods that it had opened when you first called it, you rushed inside and hit the button for your floor. Hurriedly tapping on the button that closed the elevator doors as they slowly shut, as if that would make them move faster somehow.

As the elevator rose, you prayed that it wouldn't stop and that it'd go straight up to your floor, not knowing if you could afford to risk losing time like that. Especially when the thought of a certain vigilante breaking down your door because you didn't answer it, popped into your head.

Your hands were sweaty, your heart was racing, and you could hardly stand still as you waited for the elevator to reach your floor. Staring at the counter above the elevator buttons as if that'd make the numbers go up faster, and occasionally glancing at the doors as if they'd open at any moment. Questions and possibilities rushed through your head, but you hardly had any time to think about any of them as a small ding sounded, and the doors finally opened. Ignoring how the small sound made you jump a bit, you tried not to look too nervous as you stared at the hallway in front of you.

Oh god, you were really doing this.

Not wanting to waste any more time, you stepped out of the elevator and took a breath. Trying to calm down your heart a bit as you gathered your composure, and acted as normally as you could manage. Walking forward, you rounded the corner, and there he was in all of his tainted glory.

"Di- I- I mean, Nightwing?" You call out, trying to grab the vigilante's attention before he did anything rash — and you seem to have caught him at just the right moment. As he seemed just about ready to bust open the lock to your door, and break into your apartment. Which, he thankfully pulls away as he whips around to look at you, clearly surprised.

You were almost too grateful to have caught him just in time.

"What are you doing here?" You took a few steps forward, but nothing more. Not wanting your efforts to go to waste right away, even if you knew it was only a matter of time when it came to these guys.

"Oh! Y/n- hi! I didn't, um, I didn't see you there." Dick greets with a smile, acting oddly nervous, which makes you raise a brow. "How long have you been, uh, standing there?" He asks, probably trying to see if you saw how he was about to break into your apartment. You both know you did, but you could play dumb for now.

"Um, I just got back so… not long, I guess? Why?" You tilt your head to the side, taking note of how Dick seemed to visibly relax.

Was he always so… tense?

"No reason! I was just wondering, but, uh," He glances to the side before looking back at you, and taking in your appearance. He took in every little detail he could, and wow… you really were different from what he was expecting, but in the best way possible.

Your voice was different than he remembered, and everything about you was just so… fitting, even if he's never seen it before. Even if he didn't remember having seen the style of clothes you wore on you before, or seeing the accessories you had on your person either. You really look like you've grown up now and have become an adult, with your own sense of style and fashion. Having all these little ways to show how you've grown, and become more comfortable with yourself.

Dick couldn't help but love it as much as it hurt him.

"It's good to see you." He couldn't help but blurt out, smiling softly. Though it didn't quite reach his eyes.

You only fiddled with your sleeves, averting your eyes for a moment as you purse your lips into a thin line. The way he looks at you made you feel uncomfortable to say the least, and his whole demeanor was nothing you have seen from him before. Not directed towards you, anyway, and you couldn’t help but struggle trying to remember the last time he smiled at you in person. All you could remember was seeing his back turned towards you as he walked away, a flash of a pathetic smile showing on his face briefly before he continued walking forward. Never looking back...

Maybe you've just grown too familiar seeing his smile in photographs and painted pictures, instead of in person.

Yet, how he looks you over now — and seems to take in every detail he manages to find — isn't exactly making this the most comfortable situation to be in. You feel exposed, and rub your arm before stopping yourself. You couldn't afford to show signs of weakness or vulnerability. Not with him. Not while he was in the suit.

Taking in a short breath, you gave a small nod. Managing to look back at Dick, and push down your nerves. The last thing you want was for him to notice how you truly feel, and point it out, or feel some kind of obligation to do something about it. The last thing you need was for him to stick around for longer than he has to.

"Yeah, um, anyway- that didn't really answer my question…?" You hesitantly point out, unsure if you should've mentioned anything at all, but feeling the need to do so. Even if you rather not be in this position, you prefer this over him breaking down your door.

"Did something happen? I- I don't know how much help I can give since… y'know- I'm not a crime-fighting vigilante in latex, but I can see what I can do?" You try to joke a little, mostly for yourself and to further ease your nerves as a few small chuckles escape you. Yet it doesn't help as much as you would've liked.

Did they always scare you this much?

"Oh, no! No, no, no- nothing happened! I just wanted to, um, come see you, is all!" Dick admits, and even if that may have been enough reasoning for him, it wasn't for you. It just doesn't make sense, and maybe that was the years of being put off to the side — or almost outright ignored — talking, but you couldn't imagine him just randomly popping out of nowhere, just because he wants to see you. There has to be a reason, even if you don't know what that reason would be.

"By going to my friend's apartment…? That doesn't really make a lot of sense.. um, Nightwing."

"Oh. Uh, you don't live here?" It was so weird seeing someone like Dick be so openly nervous. Was he always like this? You couldn't really tell, but if there was something going on he wasn't hiding it very well. It was almost like he was trying to not mess up or something, but you don't know why.

"No… but I do visit often? I mean, that is why I'm here and everything-" A few nervous chuckles escape you as you scratch the back of your neck, once again averting your gaze. "If you want, we could talk over a cup of coffee? I know a good place nearby, and even if I'm sure you can't exactly dine-in or anything, I could just take it to-go or something." You hesitantly offer, getting the feeling that Dick wouldn't leave easily, and still thinking that if there really is something going on — you could give him a chance to talk about it, at the very least.

"Sure! Yeah! But, uh. Is that really a good idea? It could be dangerous, and I think it's for the best if we stay inside or go to your place instead." Dick suggests, causing you to furrow your brows in confusion.

"My place?"

"Yeah, I mean I would offer mine but Bludhaven isn't exactly close, y'know?" He snickers. Yet it only made you pause. The smallest bits of a bad feeling beginning to form in your stomach.

"I- I don't think that's a good idea…"

"But it's better than hanging around outside or something, right? This is Gotham, after all." You didn't like how Dick says that. Saying it like you didn't already know. Like you were ignorant of how bad the city you live in was, despite having experienced it first hand on multiple occasions.

"I know, but there has to be some other place we can talk, then just my place."

"Well, there is the-"

"No." You immediately shot it down, already feeling like you knew what he was going to say, "Not there. Let's- let me just grab the coffee first, and we can figure it out from there, alright?" You didn't want to deal with more than you have to, and you weren't going to go back. Not now. Not ever, if you could help it.

"Oh, sure! I'll just tag along," Dick said simply, almost as if it was obvious, as he smiles, approaching you casually.

"I-" You pause before just sucking in a breath and giving a small nod, a weak smile displaying itself on your face, "-yeah, sure. That- that works." Even if you don't want Dick to follow you, it is better than having him just stand at your door, anyway. Though you still aren't exactly comfortable with the idea, you didn't have many options.

"Great! I'll meet you outside!" Dick grins before leaving through the window at the end of the hall.

Now by yourself for a while, you exhaled deeply, not even realizing how long you've been holding your breath.

You aren't sure if you could do this, but you don't feel like you have much of a choice anymore as you just try to steady and calm down your racing heart.

Making your way back to the elevator, you try to not think too much about what's going on as you step back inside, and push the correct button, waiting for it to descend.

Your heart felt heavy in your chest, and despite how you try to ignore it – you could feel that something was wrong. Though you just chalked it up to how you aren't used to Dick talking with you, or smiling towards you – or really anything at all when it came to him. You tried to, anyway, but you were slowly beginning to doubt it.

There was something in his smile, and the way that he spoke that just felt strange to you. Even if you haven't had many conversations or interactions with him, you could still catch how different he seemed tonight. Though you weren't entirely sure. After all, you didn't know much about his personality or usual antics, just as he didn't know much about you as a whole.

On any other occasion you'd try to let it go, but doing so didn't feel right this time. It feels stupid, and almost as if you'd put yourself in more danger by trying to, so for now you'd just keep it in mind. Even if nothing came of it, at least you were being cautious, right?

You aren't sure, not entirely anyway. Since it was always hard to tell what is and isn't a good decision with Dick and the others, but you don't have much time to dwell on it as the elevator doors open once again.

All you could do was just hope that this would end as quickly as it started. For both your and Dick's sake, but mostly for your own.

Nevertheless, you step out of the elevator and make your way out of the building. There, you saw Dick leaning against a lamppost, before looking at you. The smile he gave only made the pit in your stomach grow bigger, but you tried to return the gesture the best you could.

Neither smile reached either of your eyes.

"So, you know where it is?"

"Yeah- it isn't too far from here. Just a few blocks away, it's not that far of a walk."

"Great! You don't mind leading, then?"

"No, um. I can lead."

"Perfect, let's get going then." Dick says, his smile growing a little bigger as he makes his way over, and stops beside you, waiting for you to lead the way.

You just gave a nod, taking a nervous step forward as you both began to walk. You knew the directions by heart at this point, and so you just let your own feet guide you along the streets of Gotham. With Dick following right along, humming under his breath.

An awkward silence fell over both of you.

You try to not think about it too much, knowing that the detail would only further bother you, and make you feel more nervous than you already are. So you drew your attention elsewhere, and focused on the city itself instead.

Not many people were walking about, which immediately struck you as odd since Gotham was always so lively despite how dangerous it is. Even if more people were out during the day, there were still lots of people who were out at night for one reason or another. Granted, most of them are dangerous, everyone knows that, but some just simply went about their business. The city was dangerous, but that didn't stop people from going about their lives. Even if it did make it easier for thugs and the like to hide within the crowds.

Still, the change was noticeable. Gotham wasn't exactly known to be quiet, let alone this inactive. It felt strange, and when you glance over to Dick, you couldn't help but feel a little surprised that he didn't seem all that bothered by the change. If anything, you were almost getting the impression that he hadn't noticed it at all.

So, you just keep looking ahead, and focusing on other things. Deciding to not comment on anything if Dick wasn't.

Yet you still couldn’t shake it.

The absence of sirens in the air and occasional gunshots didn't sit right with you, and even the amount of people driving by wasn't as much as it'd usually be. The city didn't feel busy, let alone as alive as it would've been on any other night, and it's bothering you. It's like some sort of silent evacuation is going on, or a lock down of some kind that not everyone was informed of. There were more whispers than there were shouts, and a kind of awkward peace, instead of striking violence and chaos.

You couldn't believe it, was this Gotham's first real quiet night?

CRACK.

Perhaps you spoke too soon.

A sickening crack sounded from somewhere within the city, the noise so loud and sudden that it immediately caught your attention, as you looked in the direction of where you heard it come from. You could've sworn you heard a scream that followed right after, only for it to swiftly get cut off.

It was only then did you really take a look around, and notice how the people you passed by looked equally tense and nervous. An unsaid, but shared feeling of tension and anxiety hung in the air, and now that you noticed it — you couldn't ignore it.

What didn't help was when you saw someone in an alleyway cocking their gun, only for them to swiftly get roped into the darkness, causing them to drop their weapon in the process. A sickening pop sounded, and then deafening silence followed. The only evidence that anyone had ever stood in that particular spot, was the gun the thug had dropped.

Through the shadows of the alleyway, and faint light from the moon, you could almost make out a figure in the darkness. Yet just as they turned to look at you, your eyes darted away.

You swallowed the lump in your throat.

"Are… are you sure there isn't anything going on? It seems oddly… quiet, tonight." You point out hesitantly, small tingles dancing down your spine, and they were far from pleasant.

"Hm? Oh, well, I guess you could say something is happening, but the others are taking care of it." Dick reassures as he waves his hand dismissively. "Though that's why I think it'd be better if we talked inside. The last thing I want is for someone to eavesdrop on our conversation, and for you to get caught in the crossfire of everything." Yet you couldn't help but feel like it was a little too late for that.

Being associated with Dick, and the others — let alone being someone that they'd actually turn to for assistance or anything — already made someone prone to being caught in any crossfire that dealt with their vigilante work. Even if the person didn't get caught in between things by some miracle, it would be hard to ignore the newly painted target on their back. Being known for having a connection to Batman, and anyone he had taken under his wing one way or another, had its problems, and you already had to deal with your own fair share of trouble just for being known as another kid who got adopted by Bruce Wayne.

You wouldn't be surprised if you suddenly had to deal with more trouble just from this conversation alone, since word traveled around fast in Gotham, but you didn't want to think about that right now. You'd just deal with that when the time came, if it ever did.

Still, you didn't fully believe Dick. Your feelings of the situation becoming more messy, and unclear as you try to piece things together. You couldn't tell if what was going on was something to worry about, or stress over. Since Dick was acting so dismissively about it, and yet the effect it's having on Gotham was unmistakable. Is it big enough to cause the city to go quiet, but not dangerous enough to worry about? Or is it something else entirely?

You took a breath. Maybe it's best if you just think about it later. You already have enough on your plate as it is, and the biggest thing you have to worry about right now is Dick. All you have to do is find out what he wants, and handle things from there. That's it. That's all you have to do.

So, you nod hesitantly. Still not looking at Dick as you said, "Right. Okay. That… that makes sense, I guess," but your voice betrays you despite your best efforts as it wavered slightly. Still, you make sure to add, "but I still don't think it's the best to talk at my place."

Dick only gave a nod, saying, "Alright," and nothing else.

Your body refused to relax after that.

You still couldn’t shake the odd feeling you were getting from Dick, even if you couldn't exactly pinpoint what's wrong or where this feeling is coming from. The distant sounds of snaps, cracks, pops, and cut off shouts and screams in the distance didn't help much with that either. Especially when they weren't far, and sounded like they were only a few blocks away from you, with the distance slowly growing shorter each and every time a new sound echoed across Gotham. Especially when you realized that the snaps and cracks were the sounds of bones breaking, and the pops were joints getting dislocated. Which caused various memories to pop into your head that you tried to shove away.

Small beads of sweat began to roll down your neck. Your hands feel clammy, and you try to steady your breathing once you realize it was wavering again. You try to fix any outward reaction you notice you were displaying before Dick could catch on, fiddling with your sleeves as you try to reassure yourself.

You're going to be okay.

CRACK!

You're going to be fine.

SNAP!

You're going to make it through this.

POP!

You could tough it out.

"AAAHHH-!" CRUNCH.

This would all be over soon.

So, you try to ignore how the pit in your stomach continues to grow with each second that passes. How each sound causes you to tense, and sometimes jump the smallest bit, but you try to ignore that too.

You glance over to Dick once again, only to catch him immediately turning to face forward. The detail made you pause and furrow your brows, had he been looking at you?

You shove the thought to the side and face forward again as well. A weight of some kind begins to form in your chest, yet you still try to push on and keep walking.

Seconds turn into minutes, and it's only now that you fully realized how long this short walk felt. The sidewalks stretched on, and the streets never seemed to end. The traffic lights felt like distant glimpses of life and civilization that one would catch in fog, with the small amount of cars on the road not helping with that feeling. Dark clouds begin to form overhead, and cover the inky black sky. With the full moon looking down at you. Its sight pinned on you, staring in silence.

Maybe that's why you were so relieved when the diner finally came into view, and you found yourself holding back a sigh of relief. You had to stop yourself from running over, and rushing inside so that you didn't have to walk beside Dick anymore. Further reminding yourself of how awkward this whole experience has been for you thus far. Which didn't help with how you are feeling at all.

"How do you like your coffee?" You decide to ask, seeing as the diner was only a few steps away at this point.

"What?" Dick asks, seemingly snapping out of whatever trance he was in. With your question bringing him back to reality.

"Um, how do you like your coffee? Since, y'know. That's what we're here for?" You repeat, giving Dick a confused glance.

A look of realization flashed across Dick's face as a small 'ohh' left him. "Right, yeah. Uh," he stumbles at first before saying his preference, with you just nodding along.

"Okay, I'll just go inside and order so… you can just wait out here?" You said, unsure as you glance at the diner, only to look back at Dick.

"Yeah, I can do that." He agrees with a simple nod and small thumbs up. Making you nod as well as you took a breath.

"Right, okay. I'll just, um, head inside then." You exhale sharply, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, "It shouldn't take too long." You stop once you're in front of the door to the diner. Folding your hands into fists, squeezing your fingers and digging your nails into your palms, before releasing, letting your fingers relax, before repeating the process a few more times.

"Got it." Dick nods again, and you return the gesture as you open the door and step inside. Once again holding yourself back from letting out a sigh of relief, as you made your way over to the counter. A weight of some kind being lifted from your shoulders the moment the smell of food, and freshly brewed coffee hits you.

It's only when you reach the counter and see your friend did you finally sigh deeply, and heavily. You rest your arms against the counter and let your head hang low, a feeling of exhaust and fatigue slowly eating away at you. Not being in the immediate vicinity of Dick definitely made you feel exceptionally better, especially now that there’s a wall between you and him.

"Y'know, lots of people have been comin' in and sighing just like that, tonight." The waitress points out as she makes her way over to you. Her comment causing you to lift your head, and look at her. She gave you a little smile, amused by your antics, but you could see the little worry that hid behind her eyes.

"Really?" You ask, allowing yourself to relax a little, now that you were in the presence of a friend. You didn't see Jessica outside of the diner much, but that was never a problem since you've been a regular for a while now. You had met when you first began coming to the diner late at night for coffee since you couldn't sleep, coming around just when the place was about to close. It was only after a few more nights passed that you both began to talk, and really connect. You like to consider her one of your closest friends because of all she's done for you, and not just because she knows how to make your coffee just the way you like it.

"Yeah, it's kinda weird but there's seems to be somethin' going on tonight. So I guess it makes sense." Jessica says with a shrug, "Anyway, you want the usual, I'm assuming?"

You perk up at that, "Wait, you think something's going on too?" You couldn't help but ask, though made sure to also say, "Oh, and that'd be great. But I'll… um, take it to go this time, and I'll have another coffee for my…" you glance over your shoulder and look at Dick. He had his back turned to the window, and looked to be talking to someone with what you assumed to be his comm link.

You turn back to Jessica, a crooked smile on your face, "My acquaintance…?"

"I can't think of anyone who doesn't. Everyone can tell that something ain't right about tonight. Hell, even Jim looked bothered when he came in. I swore he was shakin' like a leaf, and looked like something was out to get him too." Jessica replies, writing down your order on her notepad mindlessly, already knowing it by heart.

"Jim? Like the commissioner?"

"Nope, I'm talkin' about the guy who came in from Metropolis."

"Oh." You said, before slowly nodding as you thought about it, "I guess that makes sense. Though, I didn't think that guy had a single nervous bone in his body, to be honest."

"Well, y'know what they say; Gotham changes people. It can even make people like him, who're barely present with the rest of us, get a little shaken up every now and again." Jessica hums, looking at what she has written down for a moment.

"Right… yeah."

Jessica sighs softly, looking at you with unsaid care and concern before speaking up again, "Anyway, does your…" she drags out the 'r' as she glances behind you, before looking back at you. Waving her pen in the air as she gestures towards the window, "'acquaintance' want anything else?"

"No, um. Just the coffee will do." You rub the back of your neck, making sure to mention how Dick said he likes his coffee. Jessica only gave a nod as she wrote it down.

"Alright, but I gotta ask. Is that guy bothering you?" Jessica asks as she starts to brew the coffee, shooting you a certain look, "I can get William to have a chat with 'im if he's causing you trouble. He won't like it, but he'll do it, y'know."

The question catches you off guard, but you quickly shake your head, and try to adjust the smile on your face to look less obvious. As much as you don't want to be in this situation, you at least want to hear Dick out. If there's even the smallest chance that he really does need something from you — you want to help. You don't want to be the reason why whatever is going on is prolonged any further, or if a solution they have is delayed.

Despite everything they've done to you, and the little they've given you throughout all of your life, you want to do this one last thing for them. That's all.

You could afford to do this one last time, you thought as much anyway.

"I'm fine, he- he isn't bothering me… I promise." You try to reassure your friend, mustering the most convincing smile you could as you watch her work. She clearly knew what she was doing, since it looked as if it came so naturally to her, and you wouldn't be surprised if it did, with all she's told you in the past.

"Well, alright. But if he does anything you can always shoot me a text or give me a call. I can't do much myself, but I know people."

You huff at her words, an easy smile making its way up your face as your shoulders relaxed, "I know. Thanks, Jess."

"Don't mention it. After all, I've gotta look out for the person who gives the best tips." She snickers, a smile of her own beginning to show itself. You can't help but laugh lightly as you just shake your head, and look away.

The soft tune of old melodies plays in the background, filling the space of the diner and washing away any awkwardness that may have been present otherwise. Some jazz begins to play, and you couldn’t help but tap your foot along with the rhythm, the voice of the singer taking all of your worries, and whisking them away.

The other customers are quiet for the most part, but seem at ease for the time being. The outside world almost seemed so far away despite being just past the windows, but there was some peace to be had with that. The street lights gave off a homey feeling with their soft orange hues spilling into the diner, the quiet from the outside only making this place feel more safe, in a strange way.

"So it's just for the money, huh? And here I thought you genuinely cared about me." You chuckle, fiddling with your fingers mindlessly.

"Of course I do. But I'd like to see you work in customer service and living off of tips," Jessica chuckles as well, "Maybe then you'd see how that's just me appreciating you more, hon'."

You just shake your head, "Right, whatever you say."

"I'm being serious, Y/n. Even the boss appreciates you, and your wonderful donations." Jessica snickers, beginning to pour the coffee into two cups.

"You make it sound like he runs a charity, and I'm a big donor."

"Of course he does! Except, y'know. It isn't your typical charity, and we gotta work our asses off to ‘give back to the people’. With your money making up about… hm, seventy-five percent of my paycheck?"

"Jess!"

"No, no. You're right, it's more like eighty-three. Maybe even eighty-five at a push." She laughs, giggling at the expression you make as you huff, before laughing a bit yourself.

You both continue to joke lightly, laughs and giggles being shared as Jessica makes your order, and you patiently wait. A light, soft sort of smile resting on your face, and you almost forget what had made you so tense in the first place. Which was one of the reasons you love this diner so much — it felt like a home away from home, even if it was only a few blocks away from your apartment. Jessica just added onto that comfortable vibe you got from this place, and your mind always felt so quiet when you're here.

It almost made everything feel like it'd be okay, and that as long as you remain inside, nothing bad could happen to you.

Unfortunately, it was only that. A feeling, and nothing more. Your current situation only made that detail all the more apparent.

"Welp, here you go. They're both hot and ready, so be careful, okay?" She smiles down at you before snickering, "Though you don't gotta tell the guy that if you don't want to."

You're confused for a moment, not entirely sure who Jessica was talking about until it suddenly hit you. Right, Dick.

You laugh along, but it wasn't as genuine as it was before, and died down much quicker. As if scared that he'd hear both of you from past the window now. The thought alone made you suddenly hyper-aware of his presence outside. "Right, yeah.."

Grabbing the two cups, you slide them towards yourself and stare down at them for a moment, finding yourself hesitating again. You don't know why you were taking so many pauses, but this whole thing just didn't feel right to you. Though you couldn't exactly pinpoint why, you knew the reason was different than why you were so awkward around Dick, and reluctant to talk to him.

"... Are you sure that guy isn't bothering you?" Jessica asks again, leaning against the counter as she places a hand over one of yours. You couldn't meet her eyes, knowing that if you did it'd just make things harder for yourself. So you look off to the side, unsure.

"Yeah!… He's just.. yeah." Was all you could really say. You don't want to say anything that would make Jessica worry more, but most importantly, you don't want to make it harder for yourself to leave. You got this far, would it really be alright if you leave now? If you took back the words you said, and just went back home? Probably not.

You hear Jessica sigh, causing your heart to feel heavier in your chest. "Look, I get it if you don't want me to get someone to handle him, but if you don't want to stick around, and don't want him to see- I can let you out the back." She offers, giving your hand a small squeeze. Trying to reassure you, and give you something to work with.

You perk up at her offer, looking back up at her in slight surprise, "Really?" You ask. The sense of hope and relief that washed over you didn't make you feel any better, and only furthered the conflict going on in your mind.

"Yeah. Especially if it'll get you away from that weirdo." She chuckles with a slight smirk, trying to lighten the mood a little.

You think about it for a moment, just looking at Jessica as countless thoughts rush through your head. Why did this have to be so complicated? Why are you making this so hard for yourself? The choice is so simple, so easy, and yet you just couldn't take it, but why?

You look back at Dick, and make eye contact.

You both stand there, staring at each other for a while, and the music playing in the diner suddenly didn't feel so comforting anymore. Your shoulders lost their weightlessness, and gravity seemed eager to try and pull you down to the floor.

Dick is the first to look away, presumably resuming his conversation with whoever he's been talking to this entire time, but you didn't. You don't.

Turmoil and conflict is clear in your eyes. You could see it through your faint reflection in the glass of the window that separates you and Dick. Which, from that alone, you begin to feel worse.

Even if you did leave, would that change anything? Would you be able to actually leave Dick? Or would he catch on? They already know where you live, and even if you managed to fool Dick momentarily, you doubt that he believes your little lie now if he is talking to the others. Yet if you went back to him, what would happen? Where would you both end up going?

You look back down at the two coffees, and sigh. Either way, you’re faced with uncertainty. If you left now, there's no telling if you'd actually be able to get away. Yet if you went back to Dick, you couldn't even imagine what would happen next. It felt like you were stuck in a lose-lose situation; having to pick between two different types of poison, and deal with whatever consequences that came with the kind you chose.

Holding the cups a little tighter, you think it over for another moment before shaking your head. Taking in a breath, and letting yourself calm down a bit.

"I think I'll be okay, but thanks for the offer, Jess." You gave her a little, appreciative smile, "I'll just message or call you if anything happens, like you said." Jessica didn't seem entirely sure of your decision, but nods anyway.

"Well, if you're sure, then alright. But the moment shit goes south, you know who to call."

You nod, and give her a small ‘thank you’ as you paid and left. Taking the drinks with you as you did so, the warmth of the diner slowly leaving you, and now being replaced with the cold breeze of the night.

"Sorry that took so long, I would've told you otherwise if I had known." You apologize as you turn to Dick, flinching at his close proximity. Since, you didn't realize just how close he had been standing to the door until now.

"It's no big deal! Besides, it didn't take that long." Dick said, dismissing your apology as he kept up that smile of his. You only nod, handing him his coffee, which he gladly took.

"If you say so.." You glance off to the side again, remaining quiet for a moment before looking back at Dick, "You were talking to the others, I assume?" You decide to ask, not exactly sure if you should've said anything, but you didn't see the harm in doing so at the moment.

"Hm? Oh, yeah! I uh, I was." Dick confirms with a small, awkward nod.

"Is… everything okay?"

"Yep! Things are going well. Great, even!"

"Oh. Alright then."

Another beat of silence passed over both of you.

You clutch the cup in your hands, its heat pinching and nibbling at your skin through the sleeve. You took a glance inside the diner, and noticed that while Jessica is doing her job, she's still shooting looks and glances your way past the window. She furrows her brows as you both made eye contact, and you could tell what she was going to do just from that alone.

You shake your head, and play it off as if you were just pushing a thought away once you look back at Dick, shoulders rising and almost locking into place as you try to stop your smile from dropping. Holding it at just the right height, and making sure it didn't look too crooked.

"So, um. How about we walk and talk? Just so that we're doing something instead of just standing around- y'know?" You suggest, a wry chuckle escaping you as your eyes wander off again.

"Sure, yeah! We can do that," Dick nods along, and you give a curt nod in return.

"Great!" You begin to walk off, only to be stopped by Dick as he grabs your sleeve, causing you to flinch a little bit. Whipping your head around to look back at him, your heart stopping for a moment as something flashed in your eyes, before it quickly disappeared.

For a split second, you look at Dick as if he was about to kill you, or something similar to that. Like he was going to hurt you in some unimaginable way by just trying to grab your attention.

Though Dick just pushed that little detail to the side, he couldn't help but keep it in mind. He didn't want to think about what it could mean, but couldn't forget it either. Since no matter how quick it was, or how short it lasted, just seeing that expression on your face and directed towards him — it hurt worse than any injury he could possibly receive in any shape or form.

He didn't want to believe what seemed to be the undeniable truth.

So, instead, he tucked it away in the back of his mind. Still managing some kind of smile as he looks at you, hiding behind a face of confusion.

"Isn't your place back that way?" Dick asks, gesturing behind him with a tilt of his head. He notices how you swallowed — taking note of how nervous and on edge you seem to be. He's known since he first saw you, but he didn't think anything of it. He doesn't want to. He doesn't want it to mean anything.

So he ignores it. Pushing it away until he can't see it anymore, despite it being so clear and right in front of his face.

He prays to every god he knows, and hopes to every heaven he's aware of — blind and ignorant to the fact that they have long since shut him out. The light and grace they'd give, forever out of his reach.

His little wishes couldn't help him now. Not when they never helped you.

"I-" You couldn't help but sigh, shaking your head and gathering your thoughts, before speaking again, "I already said that I don't think that it's a good idea to talk there, Dick. And I don't think it's smart to have this conversation here either- so let's just walk as we try to figure this out. Please?" Your weak smile begins to strain as you take a step back, grabbing Dick's hand and tugging him toward you. You hope he'll listen, if only this one time.

Dick looks to the side, unsure as he weighs his options before looking back at you, and suddenly he's hit with all the convincing he needed.

You look at him pleadingly, almost silently begging for him to comply and just come along with you. The moon, albeit partially covered thanks to the dark clouds passing overhead, lit up your eyes in such a way that further emphasized the emotions you were feeling, but left unsaid. How the internal conflict and struggle you were experiencing, made the color in your irises shine that much brighter, and how such a little thing took Dick's breath away.

Suddenly, for a moment, he realizes how soft your hand was in his, despite the fabric of his glove in between them. Even if it is just for that split second, he can't help but… love it. Love you. So how can he say no? How could he say no when he's slowly beginning to see all of these little things about you in a different way? When his guilt was slowly shifting to something else? Something worth trying for?

How can he deny such a little request from his little sibling? Especially when you look at him like that? He can't. So he didn't. Unable to stop the soft but partially happy smile that grew on his face.

You found it uncanny and misplaced, but he found it fitting and refreshing in a way. A way he hadn't felt before — not in a while, anyway.

"Sure, alright. Let's get going then!" Dick replies after a second of silence had passed, holding onto your hand and walking beside you when you began to move again.

You didn't say anything this time, just nodding as you focused on walking away from the diner.

Yet, Dick couldn't help but look back at the establishment. Curious as to why you wanted to move on from it so quickly, and wanted to see if he could catch anything in particular that might've caused it. Not that Dick was complaining by any means, but he couldn't help his own curiosity.

It was then that Dick and the waitress from inside the diner made eye contact. Causing Dick to narrow his eyes, and the waitress doing the same back with a certain look in her eyes.

He didn't like it, and even if the impression he's getting was far off the mark, he didn't care enough to change it.

Yet, when you and Dick pass the diner, your phone suddenly vibrates.

Oblivious to how Dick's gaze lingered on the diner for a little while longer — or how he was even looking back at all — you fish your phone out of your pocket once you shake Dick’s hand off mindlessly, not thinking too much about the action as you check your notifications.

There, you saw that Jessica had left you a message.

['Be careful with that one. I'd watch your back if I were you, hon.']

You were confused to say the least, but before you could think to respond, Dick turned back to you and suddenly spoke. Smile ever present, eyes trained on you.

"So, where are we going?"

"Oh- um, I'm not entirely sure." You admit, pocketing your phone quickly without much thought. Hoping Dick didn't see what the text said, but you didn't count on it. Not much slipped past him or the others in any given situation, not unless it was something dealing with you. Though, with his attention on you now? You couldn't be too sure of what he would and wouldn't notice. Not anymore.

After all, just knowing that he could see you now, and is actually talking with you, along with the fact that you've been in his space for over a minute was… a new experience. You didn't think you'd get this far — you never have before, and so this was all new territory for you. All you knew, and could gather from how things were going thus far, was that slipping away wouldn't be as easy as it was before. Not with his eyes trained on you like they were now.

"Well, that's fine but we still shouldn't stay out for long. It isn't safe." Dick pointed out again, causing you to sigh and nod your head.

"I know, but I still-" you cut yourself off, and took a quick breath before continuing, "it doesn't feel right going back to my place. Besides, not many people are out tonight… and as weird as that is- at least not many people will be around to eavesdrop on our conversation, if we did talk out here." You said, shrugging your shoulders, and taking a slow but small sip of your coffee. It burned your tongue, but at least it gave you something else to think about.

"That doesn't exactly make Gotham any less dangerous, and besides- those who are walking around, and are still out and about, could be from a worse crowd. You should know that, Y/n." Again, you didn't appreciate how he spoke to you like that. Talking as if you were ignorant to that possibility, or just generally unaware that Gotham was a bad place filled with even worse people.

"I do, I'm just saying-" you try to defend yourself, looking at Dick before immediately looking away. You don't like how he looked at you, and how much taller it made him appear, "Gotham isn't just filled with criminals, and besides… most people look like they're rushing to get home anyway." You comment, noticing how a group of people — presumably friends or roommates, maybe even 'coworkers' to a certain degree — rushed inside what appeared to be an apartment building. Along with how a family quickly got inside of their house, ushering their kids inside before hurriedly closing the door behind them.

"It's like some kind of apocalypse is going on…" You mutter, narrowing your eyes at the sight, before just focusing your attention back on the sidewalk ahead of you. You didn't recall getting a memo of any kind, or an alert if something like that was really going on. Though, your best bet to figuring anything out was unfortunately through Dick, by the looks of things.

Dick rubs the back of his neck, a strange feeling of nervousness, and something close to embarrassment, radiating off of him as he chuckled. The strange detail caught your attention, causing you to look at him and notice that his smile had become uneven, before he fixed it when he noticed you were looking.

You couldn't help but raise a brow, silently questioning Dick with your eyes, a small hint of suspicion growing behind your gaze.

Dick just shrugs, fixing himself the very next moment, which only causes you to narrow your eyes. Were they actually causing some kind of apocalypse? Surely not… right?

"Then that's just all the more reason why we should head inside too." Dick said, giving your hand a soft squeeze. Forcing you to acknowledge that you were holding hands once again – but when did he grab it? You don’t remember feeling him hold it again until now… but that wasn’t important, not now anyway, "I don't want anything bad to happen to you, Y/n. I'm just worried."

You grew quiet at that, a mix of emotions beginning to swirl around in your chest before you just shove it to the side. You couldn't tell if he was joking or trying to be genuine….

Though, your heart and mind seemed to agree that he wasn't being serious, and maybe that's why you didn't like how he looked at you.

Taking your hand back once again, you shook your head dismissively, "You're a vigilante, right? One of Gotham's finest, and looking over Bludhaven at that- if anything happens I'm sure you can handle it." Huffing, you add, "Even then, I can handle myself."

Dick's eyes linger on you for a little longer. The hand that had been holding yours twitched, and he kept it there for a second before letting it drop to his side, his smile beginning to die down before he sighed. "Still, I think it'd be better if we tried to avoid something like that all together."

"I think it'd also be better if we could avoid something like that happening at my place."

"It won't, not with me around."

"So now you're confident that nothing will happen?" You laugh lightly, more air escaping you above all else, and disbelief clear in your eyes and tone. "You can't be sure. Someone could follow us there and find out where I live."

You snicker again, not fully believing that you were actually having to tell Dick all of this, "I mean, it might not matter much to you but-"

"It does matter to me. I don't want you to get hurt, or anyone else to come after you." He took another breath, and you bite your tongue. Reframing from mentioning how it was a little too late to be saying that now. "Look, I understand if you don't want to go back to where you're staying, but if that's the case then we can just got to the-"

"No." You speak up before he could even finish. Already knowing what he was going to say, and the mere thought of going back to that place made you feel uneasy. Causing you to clutch your cup with both of your hands, barely registering its heat.

"I didn't even get to say where…" Dick sighs again, just pushing the detail to the side for the moment, "Can you at least tell me why? I don't see why we shouldn't."

"It just-" You didn't want to say it outloud. Not out here. Not with him around, and listening to every word that fell out of your mouth. "I just don't think that's smart either. Again, someone could follow us back there and find out about… you know."

"Well, then someone else could just take you back-"

"Wouldn't that seem suspicious if someone saw, though?"

"Now you're worried about being seen?"

"Like you weren't before-"

"Y/n, please. We can't just stand around here and talk about stuff all night. Either way, we have to go somewhere." Dick tries to reason, adding on, "Look, if you don't want to go to your place or the 'other' place, how about we just-"

"No."

"I didn't even get to finish!"

"I know what you were about to say, and just-" You took a breath of your own, sweat rolling down the back of your neck as your hands began to shake a little bit. Your nerves were getting to you. You could feel it with how your chest became heavier, and how it was getting progressively harder to continue walking — as if your feet were slowly sinking into the cement below you.

"I don't think it'd be the best to go there either." You mutter, looking off to the side.

"Why? I can sort of understand the 'other' place-" he didn't, but in his attempt to get through to you, he said otherwise, "but why not there? Again, we can't just wander around all night and talk out in the open like this, Y/n. You should know better than that." Dick states, furrowing his brows as his gaze remains pinned on you, never once looking away.

You wish he would. By the Gods did you wish he would look away just once. Yet such a blessing had yet to be given, if it would ever come.

With every second that passed, your doubt only grew.

"I just don't see why we can't go to any other places? Somewhere that isn't personal, or technically considered to be personal since it could reveal your identity and such- and I don't think I have to give reasons why someone knowing where I live, or used to live, would be bad too- but… yeah. Just-" You gather your thoughts, looking down at your cup of coffee for a brief moment, "Just somewhere that isn't necessarily connected to either of us, or could reveal potentially personal or sensitive information on one or both of us? Like the park, or some random rooftop…? You guys still have talks up there, right?" You manage to slide in a little joke, but the laugh you gave is more awkward and nervous than anything, so you just clear your throat and continue.

"Or- or just an abandoned building or something? If you still really want us to be inside? Since Gotham has some of those… maybe too many of them- but that's besides the point." You try to suggest, hesitant to even say anything but managing somehow regardless.

You still couldn’t bring yourself to look at Dick – so you missed how his brows creased, and his smile was just barely holding up. His hand twitches again, but he tries to stay mindful of the coffee he's still holding.

"Are you serious?" His tone made you press your lips into a thin line. Your nails begin to dig into the sleeve of your cup. "I get that you're paranoid, but are you serious right now? Y/n, c'mon." An odd warmth began to bloom in your chest at Dick's words. It was far from pleasant, and lit like a match, with the flame itself bursting to life. It started much larger than you were used to, and controlling it was more difficult than you expected.

"I'm just saying…"

"Saying… what? That we either stay out in the open where anything can happen, or a clearly dangerous place where we're most likely going to get jumped? 'Cause if that's what you're saying, then I don't even know what to say, Y/n." Dick really can't believe you right now. Just how long have you been living in Gotham, exactly? Who were you even living with? He couldn't understand what you were thinking suggesting such a thing.

He had a feeling you may have been unaware of the true dangers of Gotham, since he and the others had kept you away from such things – from what he could tell. Not to mention that you didn't have any intention of becoming a vigilante yourself, from what he remembered, but for you to turn out like this? He had no idea you were so oblivious, and if he had before, he never would've let you out of that apartment building. He never should've to begin with, clearly.

"No! Of course that's not what I'm saying!" You couldn't help but yelp in surprise, finally looking at Dick as you held your coffee closer to your chest. You felt offended that he honestly thought you'd think something so stupid, but you didn't know what was worse. How he didn't seem convinced, or how he looked as if he believed himself more than you.

"Then…?" Dick drags on, gesturing for you to give an explanation. Almost daring you to say something that proved him wrong, or went against his point.

You huff harshly, the warmth in your chest beginning to turn hot as you went on to say, "I'm just saying why can't we go anywhere else, that isn't technically connected to you or me in some way?"

"... And your solution to that is to go to a public area, stay out in the open but on the rooftops, or go to one of the abandoned places around Gotham where something bad will definitely happen?" Dick rose a brow, with you restraining yourself from rolling your eyes. Instead, you manage a sigh – smile long gone from your face.

"Those were just examples, Nightwing." You hold back a scoff, clutching your cup a little tighter, "We don't actually have to go to any of those places, or do those things. I was just trying to suggest ideas, not say; 'Hey, we should go to that one place by the bay that's been abandoned for around five years and have our talk there. Since surely nothing will happen, and a gang totally doesn't hang around that area.' Or something like that."

"That's oddly specific," Dick gave you a questionable look before shaking his head, "but still. Those places and areas aren't safe. At least the places I suggested are, and if something happens, then there's security measures in place for that."

"How do you know if my place is secure or not?"

"Are you trying to say that it isn't?"

"No- but it's not like I have a super complicated system or hypersensitive security like- y'know. The other places. So what would make my place so safe?"

Dick sighs, "Fine. Alright, maybe your place isn't our safest bet right now. Even if I feel like I can definitely handle protecting a single apartment." You didn't even bother to say anything, just rolling your eyes and shaking your head instead.

"I don't want anything to happen to my place, Nightwing."

"You really don't think I can't defend one room?"

"I don't live alone, D- Nightwing. I don't just have myself or my things to worry about." You couldn't help but say, scoffing under your breath. However, Dick could only blink, a little confused.

"You… have a roommate?"

"Yeah? Who do you think I was referring to when I said I was visiting a friend?"

"Oh! I thought that was a complete lie. I guess that makes sense, but why would you need a roommate anyway? Does your job not make enough money or-"

"Does that really matter right now?" You gave Dick a pointed look, hoping that he would take the hint and drop the subject, "We're trying to find out what the fuck to do, not delve into my personal life."

"Alright, fine- no need to get all worked up." Dick put his free hand up to show that he wasn't trying to start anything, and was trying to keep this peaceful and civil, "But why don't we just go to one of the other two areas? They're secure, and I'm sure your friend won't get hurt if something ends up happening while we're there."

You open your mouth to say something, only to shut it and look away. You clutch your cup a little tighter.

How could you tell Dick that you just don't want to be in the manor again, and that you didn't want to go back — without actually having to tell him? How do you tell Dick that you don't feel comfortable being in a space where you knew the rest of them would be, and that you'd rather have to just deal with him than anyone else? That you had a bad feeling about going to any of those places with him, and you don't trust him or the others at all?

You'd rather avoid going to the manor if you could help it, and you had more than enough reasons for feeling that way. Though, would Dick understand? Would he accept your reasons, and see why you wanted to go somewhere else? Maybe not, and even if he did understand, there was no guarantee that he would value your personal comfort over your 'safety'. There was no guarantee that he still wouldn't try and get you to agree with him.

You also wanted to avoid going to the clock tower. Seeing as just dealing with Dick was… difficult, to say the least, and if you could barely handle one — you couldn't imagine what it'd be like to handle another. Since there was bound to at least be someone else at the tower, just waiting for you to arrive.

The thought alone made you feel uneasy.

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

[Chapter 3, part 2]

#yandere batfam #platonic yandere batfam #gn reader #yandere dc #platonic yandere #yandere x gn reader #yandere batfam x reader #yandere dc x reader #yandere dick grayson #not series

865 notes · View notes