#naive reader

[wanderingelvis]

hi girlie! love your work, please could you write about a reader that loves sex with ep but is still very innocent?

i hope you like it! thank you for requesting!

masterlist is here for more elvis fics takin' new elvis requests here

wc - 2.8k

warnings - SMUT, daddyk!nk, profanity, overstim, praisek!nk, innocencek!nk, all the usual stuff for me

Elvis was the one to expose you to a lot of your firsts. Your first kiss, your first time in Las Vegas, your first designer dress, your first sip of alcohol but most importantly, your first experience of sexual pleasure. 

Now, despite your innocence, even you knew that Elvis had been with many lovers and was well known for his abilities in the bedroom. Sure, it made you a little hesitant at first, a little scared that he would find someone more exciting and experienced than you and forget all about you. Actually, you were more than a little scared of that happening, you were terrified, you didn't even want to fall for Elvis because you never felt that you were worth the famous man's time or attention but oh Lord, you fell hard.

And you could tell straight away why so many people fell for him, when he looked at you, it felt like he was looking through to your soul and out the other side again. It was like you were the only person in the world to him in that moment.

But when Elvis introduced you to the world of pleasure and sex, you couldn't get enough. You were nervous during your first times, so, so nervous and Elvis could tell. But he went slowly with you, praising you and cooing at you as you took all of him, even if it stretched your walls and made a few sweet, little tears trickle down your cheeks.

Elvis would always praise you and make it clear what he was doing too, never leaving you in the dark.

"M'gonna take off these pretty lil' panties now, little girl."

"Open them lips f'me doll, that's it, just like that, good." He would hiss.

"Daddy's gotchu, s'okay baby, yer likin' that ain't ya? S'okay, I know yer overstimulated. That's my girl."

"Yer takin' my fingers so well little one, that's right, you're doin' so good f'me. You like that dontchu dolly? Yeah? M'gonna add another finger, stretch out yer pretty lil' cunt, I know you can handle it baby."

And he'd delight in watching you get so worked up under him, writhing with pleasure and practically begging for more through whimpers and tears each time.

Yet still, that sweet naivety that clouded you never left. You were always still seeking Elvis' guidance and love and attention and that's when Elvis realised the gem that he had in you.

You'd gaze up at him with uncertainty, seeking reassurance with every move as he would teach you all the ways he enjoyed being pleasured and Elvis would have to stroke your pretty little head as he taught you how to give it.

You became obsessed with feeling pleasure from Elvis, you found yourself begging and mewling for it in the morning, whispering in Elvis' ear during the day asking for him to take you, and undressing yourself at the earliest opportunity in the evenings so that Elvis would have his way with you.

And he'd always chuckle at you fondly, adoring your sweet desperation. 

You didn't even know the names of the acts that the two of you were performing but it didn't matter, your head became fuzzier and fuzzier over time, your only goal was to feel the pleasure that Elvis gave you.

And it wasn't long before Elvis realised you were his naive little nymphomaniac.

You were sat in your regular spot in the International, watching Elvis perform. You just thought he was oh so magical, the way he sang, the way he moved and gyrated on stage, captivating you and the rest of the audience. You watched tiny beads of sweat drip down his tanned face onto the chest hairs that were exposed by the white jumpsuit he wore.

He'd look over at you, every now and then, sending you a wink to make sure you knew he remembered that you were the most important little girl in the audience and by the end of the show, that sweet desperation that had started to become an all too familiar feeling, was creeping its way in. 

And Elvis just loved to tease you. He practically relished in watching you whine and plead for his touch and his love, he just thought you were so sweet, especially when you still didn't understand half of what was going on, you just got so carried away. 

So, when you and Elvis finally made it back up to the hotel suite after the show, you were nothing short of desperate. See, Elvis had this thing where he was just so damn nice to everyone that after a show, he'd go around and thank everyone for their hard work, and whilst you loved that about him, you were growing needier and needier by the second.

Elvis knew you all too well though, he knew that he was dragging this out for his little desperate baby. In fact, he didn't just know, he enjoyed it. Elvis decided to drag out the process and turn you into his own needy little mess tonight.

"You look so pretty tonight baby, y'know that? Got all dressed up n'pretty f'me huh?" Elvis teased, lowering his head slightly to kiss the top of yours as his large hand traced your skimpy, sparkly dress that he'd bought for you, only three days before. 

You gulped and nodded quickly, smiling and letting out a giggle - he'd barely touched you and yet there you were all flustered. 

It was no surprise though that just a couple of loving words and a gentle touch from Elvis would send you spiralling each time he did it. You'd never experienced life the way that you had since Elvis came into it, before Elvis, you would attend your part time job, go to the library and do your studies. It was mundane, unexciting, and repetitive. Then, you met the most famous man in the entire world and everything changed, you had so many new experiences from spending hours in lavish boutiques, to dining next to the King of Rock n' Roll as you both sat in the crowd, watching Frank Sinatra singing. 

In all honesty, it was a life you were never prepared for, you still weren't adjusted to it all that well, that's why you clung to Elvis, he was like some form of security blanket for you, a protector of sorts that looked after you and cared for you. He knew you were new to everything so he would always take things slow with you, making sure that you were always okay and comfortable. 

He'd help alleviate the stress of the lifestyle change in lots of ways, for example, he would choose what you wore each day and how you did your hair and make up. Now, many people had called this controlling, but how were you, a girl that had never stepped foot on the Las Vegas strip, supposed to know what to wear to a casino and show? Elvis knew what would look good on you and what would be appropriate for each occasion because Elvis always knew what was best for you. He ended up knowing you better than you knew yourself.

The new world that surrounded you, Elvis' world, was intoxicating. You hardly ever had time to think straight or understand what was going on around you. 

But what you did know was that when Elvis touched you, you felt good, so you chased that feeling. 

"C-Can we, can we do the stuff?" You whispered, avoiding Elvis' gaze.

Elvis smirked, oh Lord you were just the most adorable little thing. "The stuff? Well baby, yer gon' have to use a couple more words than that." Elvis said with a dry chuckle, lighting up one of the Cuban cigars that Sammy Davis Jr had gifted him.

You sighed a little, a mix of desperation, impatience, frustration and embarrassment. "Can, c-can you, touch me?" You asked softly. "Please?" You squeaked, pleadingly.

"Oh Little One," Elvis hushed, causing a sweet whine to leave your lips. "Y'need me t'touch you huh baby?" Elvis teased as you nodded almost frantically with wide eyes, leading him to chuckle at your state. "Need me t'make you feel good hm?" Elvis said, his eyes growing dark in comparison to your wide, sparkly eyes.

"Uh-huh," You squeaked adorably, barely an inch between the two of you. 

God, Elvis could just devour you. 

You swallowed the lump in your throat as he cupped your face in his large coarse hands, his left hand also holding his cigar between his fingers, the warm filler of it tinging the skin on your pink cheek, making you wince as you gazed up at him with eyes wider than a Disney princess.

"I ain't gon' touch you tonight honey, no, yer gon' do it all on yer own." Elvis whispered cooly, as you whined at the thought of not having him touch you, your eyes resembling that of a puppy dog as your desperation grew.

"What do you mean?" You murmured looking up at Elvis tentatively with a shaky voice as Elvis placed his large hand on the small of your back and guided you to the bed where he set you down, moving you like you were his own little doll, but in many ways, that's exactly what you were.

"You're so needy Little One, yer gon' have t'learn how to pleasure yerself baby," Elvis teased, facing you as you sat upright, letting his hands roam up your sides as your body trembled in his hold.

You chewed on your lip cutely, "Are you not gon' touch me at all?" You asked, your head tilting.

"No honey, y'gotta learn how to touch yerself, yer gon' touch yerself f'me okay baby?" Elvis instructed and you nodded despite feeling apprehensive. "Good girl." Elvis praised. "All I'm gon' do is get you undressed so I can watch all of you as you play with your lil' pussy."

You shivered as Elvis' coarse hands shimmied your dress up, exposing your white panties that already had a wet patch that was making the fabric sheer and translucent, letting Elvis see the pretty pink flesh that was so needy. 

"Let's get these cute lil' panties off baby, looks like y'need them off." Elvis chuckled making you blush. "Oh baby, m'only teasin." Elvis said, soothing you as he dragged the damp panties over your legs, letting them pool at your feet as he grabbed each leg and helped untangle them from you, all the while being careful not to singe your skin with the burning cigar that he took a puff from every now and then. "Atta girl." He cooed. "Now, pretty girl, spread them legs f'me." Elvis instructed and you did exactly what you were told, gazing at him intently.

Elvis really had taken over your entire life, you basically worshipped the man. Sure, there was a noticeable age difference and there was a definite power imbalance but as much as you worshipped him, Elvis treated you like you were the most delicate, precious thing in his life.

Despite Elvis having all the power, he could practically feel his old men knees buckle whenever you would lie there on the mattress, staring up at him adoringly with those wide eyes full of curiosity and love. Your plump, glossy lips parted ever so slightly as you studied all of Elvis' movements as he took your tender wrist in his large hand, guiding your hand to your slick coated cunt.

Your breathing was shaky at best, your chest rising and falling ever so erratically, making Elvis smirk at how nervous you were, even though he knew how much you needed to be satisfied.

Slowly, he directed his hand over yours, making your soft, small fingers fondle your soaked folds, your slick leaking from your pussy as your fingers traced up and down your slit. 

Your gaze wandered back and forth between Elvis and what was happening 'down there', the curiosity and nervousness getting the better for you as you let out soft gasps and mewls at yours and Elvis' actions.

"Keep going." Elvis commanded, removing his hand from yours, letting you continue on with the motions as you began to pleasure yourself in front of the old man. "Tell me how it feels honey."  Elvis said, his voice emotionless as his eyes darkened on you as you squirmed about.

You blinked hazily, your mind becoming a mess, your attention becoming divided by the overwhelming sense of pleasure and the God of a man that stood at the end of the bed, towering over you, not taking his eyes off you and your body.

Only a single, small lamp illuminated the room in a dull, dark pink tone, the rest of the light coming from the Las Vegas strip, the bright lights reflecting into Elvis' suite, letting Elvis see the silouhette and highlights of your body as you let your fingers rub around your clit in circular motions, eliciting soft whines from you.

"Feels so... feels so nice." You sighed lazily, moving your hips in a pathetic attempt to create more pressure between you and your own hand - but Elvis could only find it adorable how desperate you were. "B-But," You said through breathy whimpers. "Want you."

Elvis smirked, a slight chuckle leaving him, one that had an almost sadistic tone to it as he walked to a chair opposite the bed and sat in it, taking a puff from his cigar, letting the smoke cloud him as he stared at you.

"Not tonight little girl. Yer gon' keep going until yer learn how to make yerself cum like a good girl." Elvis hissed, causing you to whine at his denial. "Tell me what yer gon' learn, I want to hear you say it." Elvis softly demanded.

"Gonna, gonna," You whined, trying to do as you're told all the while touching your cunt. "Learn how t'make myself cum." You recited, your mind becoming hazy and the pace of your fingers quickening.

"Why?" Elvis teased, enjoying watching you battle with yourself, as he made you have to think whilst he knew that all you wanted to do was mindlessly pleasure yourself.

"Good girl, m'a good girl." You whimpered, your eyes beginning to brim with tears.

"That's right baby." Elvis praised, taking a drag from his cigar, never letting his eyes leave your body. "Put your fingers in your pussy for Daddy." Elvis instructed firmly - almost coldly.

You blinked at him, pausing your motions to silently confirm what he had said to you.

"Now." Elvis growled and you nodded tearily, pushing two fingers into your soaked hole, whimpers leaving your lips as your pink cheeks felt tears trickling down them from the sensations and the experience.

"You've never fingered yerself, pretty girl?" Elvis asked, watching your trepidation and jolted movements, he could tell you were experienced from the smallest of things.

All you could manage was a shake of your head as it rested on the mattress, your eyes rolling towards the back of your head as you let your fingers pump in and out of your pink pussy - and if your cheeks weren't already pink enough, Elvis would've seen a blush creeping onto your face at the question.

You cry out adorably from the pleasuring feeling, as you practically hump your own fingers, not noticing that Elvis is now palming the large bulge in his pants.

Oh, how he loved to be the one to corrupt you like this.

"Faster." Elvis demanded before you stared at him with nerves and apprehension in your eyes. "Don't you want to be my good girl?" Elvis teased, exploiting your desire for praise.

You nodded feverishly, tossing your head back onto the mattress as you let your fingers tease your hole at a quicker pace, slipping through your walls, your own slick acting as lube.

"Look at you, so needy, doin' such a good job of playing with your cunt and puttin' on a show fr' Daddy." Elvis praised, knowing his words would send you spiralling.

And he didn't stop, urging you on with gentle commands, praises and downright filthy comments as he got off to you masturbating for the first time.

"Such a needy puppy, ain't ya? That's it, doin' such a good job baby."

"Yer such a pretty sight fr' Daddy, fuckin' yerself with those fingers baby, it's okay, you can go faster, you can do it."

"Just breathe baby, y'can fit in another, I know that pretty pussy of yours can handle it. Good girl, that's it."

"Feelin' good huh? Gon' touch yerself when I'm on stage huh? Yer cunt that desperate huh kid?"

Elvis continued teasing and praising you, talking you through your first orgasm from your own masturbation, your mewls turning into full-blown cries before your body collapsed, and you lethargically pulled your fingers from your glistening, wrecked cunt.

You pushed yourself up and blinked adorably, looking at the wet patches on the silk bedding before you shyly looked up at Elvis.

"M'sorry, I made a mess on your sheets." You whimpered, still feeling overwhelmed and extra-sensitive, sniffling as you wiped away a stray tear.

Elvis couldn't help but smirk at the adorable sight in front of him.

You, the love and light of his life, a naked, flustered, soaked mess on his silk bed sheets, your chest rising and falling erratically as you came down from your self-inflicted high.

"Uh-uh, ain't nothin' t'be sorry about baby." Elvis cooed and he watched relief wash over you as you offered him the goofiest, sweetest smile at the reassurance and Elvis felt his both his heart and cock jump.

How had he been so lucky to have such a sweet, little, naive nymphomaniac such as you?

[verb3na]

MDNI +18!! Ageless and empty blogs will be blocked!

Unedited

CW- nasty fucking shit, pervert gaz, dubious consent?, slightly? Naive reader, non consensual recording

Pt.2

Pervert roommate! Gaz that always has his phone in his hand. He bought the best privacy screen on the market so you’ve never seen what plagued his hand-held device. Unbeknownst to you, he’s not actually clumsy. He’s well aimed from throwing grenades and he’s learned to perfectly slide his phone under your skirt.

You never really notice when he approaches until he speaks due to his quiet steps. He uses this to sneak pictures from behind or when he’s close, once again under your skirt- especially when you wear short skirts.

He loves when you wear thongs, but he also loves those full coverage panties you wear with the frilling lace around the edges. He’s stolen a few of the frilly ones to keep in his pocket while on missions.

He’ll take them out when he’s alone to get a burst of energy. The way you smell, even months into a mission drives him insane, always gives him a burst of adrenaline.

He’s convinced you that laundry should be his chore and you accept, hating laundry.

Each time he comes across a pair of your underwear he always sucks on them, even the week old ones you didn't have time to bring to the laundry room. When you shower and immediately bring your laundry bin to the bathroom after, he always makes sure to grab the now cold but wet pair to empty his seed into before throwing it into the wash and rinsing all evidence of his most recent release away.

He likes to stare and feel your bras. He knows you wear a size too small due to the spillage he can see when you wear a tight shirt. He likes to imagine himself between your legs while they wrap around his waist, still half clothed, as he gropes your chest through your bra.

He loves when you come back from the gym in those shorts that perfectly slide between your cheeks, he always imagines you with your ass up in the air as he digs his fingers into your flesh to spread your ass while he licks your asshole. Sometimes he even imagines himself using both hands, fingering your ass and trying to fit as many fingers as he can into your pussy.

When he has one night stands, he always has his eyes shut. He can’t do anything other than imagine the person as you, whether it's a man or woman.

He sits in a van currently, his hand in his pocket rubbing over your panties. He thinks of a way that he could trick you into sex. He decides to not text you he’s coming home. He’s never seen you bring anyone home so he hopes that the one time he doesn’t tell you he’s on his way home, he’ll catch you being naughty. He Imagines ripping a man off of you and replacing them with himself. He’s smelt sex in your room before, so he knows you bring people over while he’s deployed.

[shuriwandanatwife]

Guys I wanna write send in some requests please.

(Also I don’t only write for AgathaRio)

Also thank you all so much for the love on my last two posts 💕

[marvelkiddie]

Mommy’s Day

Today was a special day you figured, it’s been a while since Wanda got you long enough for her to trust you to watch a little bit of tv in the mornings, you were watching some morning cartoons when Mother’s Day commercials keep popping up on TV once in a while, by now you adored Wanda, you weren’t scared of her anymore and she knew that, it was only fair to give her something special today after all she took care of you and she no longer hitted you! you thought, but there was a tiny problem as much as she loved having you she never got proper little girl things like cute crayons or art supplies, so making a card for her was gonna be a little hard Mommy do you have scissors? i weally need them you asked while she sipped her morning coffee no you don’t, what do you possible need scissors for? she said giving you a suspicious look you pouted i can’t tell you or it wouldn’t be a surprise maybe some markers i need them for something important pwease she realized you didn’t had anything that you were asking for and after a moment she figured it wasn’t for something cheeky or harmful mmm tell you what if you do your chores mommy will go to the store to get you things hmm? you immediately stand up and walked to the sink to clean your breakfast dishes maybe some stickers too? any pretty ones you like mommy you said while fidgeting with your feet by this time she had caught onto your little plan and if she was right, she was oh so excited to finally have you all to herself and you adoring her, she quickly got ready to leave before you said if I’ve been good can i get some chocolates too pwease? You’ve been more than good but she said to not be so greedy I’ll se what i can do okay. You heard the loud clicking sound of the door and beeping to the code you made quick work to Wanda’s room to find some of her pens to start doodling on a piece of paper that you hoped will be a nice little card for her, you drew two figures one much taller with pretty wavy hair and the smaller holding onto her hand along with some flowers, by the time she got back you walked to her with caution to your surprise she got you a 64 pack of crayons! oh you were delighted, also some bunny stickers and a special scissor that cut in a zigzag line thank you mommy! thank you for my new things i did all my chores and aah im a little tired now you said faking a yawn Wanda just chuckled and gave you the bag of things, you walked to your tiny room and started coloring your previous piece of art making sure to use every single crayon of that box of course, you looked through the bag to see what else she had gotten and you were shocked to see some glitter pens! this was the best day ever! about twenty minutes later you walked to the living room with your hands behind your back mommy? are you busy? You asked with a soft voice what is it baby? are you okay? she asked putting her book down mhmm i just wanted to make you something special i hope you like it mommy you said walking to her handing her the most colorful card she had ever seen and a box of chocolates with some of them missing already but you tried! Wanda was in awe she was so happy to be at this point with you, you adored her and she could definitely see that now i think it’s Mother’s Day and you are my mommy so i wanted to give you something just for you Wanda stood up to hug you and walked you to the couch sitting you on her lap this is such a pretty card little one thank you so much she said giving you kisses all over your face making you giggle im sorry i ate some of them chocolates I couldn’t help it you said pouting but she just hugged you no worries i was gonna shared them with you anyways she said with a hand on your cheek giving you a kiss on your temple you both sat on the couch for a while with your back pressed to her explaining your work of art while munching on the yummy treats you had left, after a while you fell asleep in her arms while she was holding you close running a hand through your hair, you were both so happy to have each other.

[sleekhereticeidolon]

In Loving Memory: A Fanfiction Tribute to My Late Father and His Admiration for Elvis Presley.(Part 5)

For more reading, click here!

Vernon chuckles, “You might want to keep an eye on her. She seems sharp—could be someone to watch in the future.”Elvis smiles, clearly amused by the conversation. “Definitely. It’s refreshing to meet someone who’s not starstruck, that’s for sure.” Elvis goes to Tom“You won’t believe this, Tom. I just had the most interesting interaction with this girl, Gesilda.” Tom raises an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh really? What happened?”Elvis leans in, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret. “She completely disregarded the idea of staying with me. I asked her if she’d like to hang out, and she was all, ‘I am young,’ and just wouldn’t budge.” His laughter bubbles up again as he recounts your calm assertiveness. Tom chuckles and says “That’s fantastic! Not many people can hold their own like that when they’re around you.” "You rarely see that kind of confidence, especially in someone so young,” Elvis replies, showing admiration.Tom nods, impressed. “Sounds like she’s got a good head on her shoulders. You might want to keep an eye on her; she could be a force to be reckoned with .Elvis smirks and says “I think I already like her spirit.

At the next party, I feel anxiety swirling within me. What I don’t realize is that my father has secretly brought along a change of clothes just in case, hoping to make the evening more memorable for me. When Elvis sees me, he greets my father warmly. “Great to see you again!” he exclaims. He glances at me, a friendly smile on his face. However, feeling a bit overwhelmed, I decide to slip away.Elvis notices my departure, amusement dancing in his eyes as I move off to a table. Dion, on the other hand, is charmed by Elvis's presence. He sidles up to the two of them, his excitement visible as he engages in conversation. “So, what’s the latest, Elvis?” he asks.As I sit quietly, absorbed in my thoughts, Tom approaches with a friendly demeanor. “Hey there!” Elvis had told me about you.”I remain silent, observing him. Tom senses my calm demeanor and continues. “He said that you’re not easily impressed,” he adds with a chuckle.It’s a cool party, and I’m sure you’ll find it pretty awesome once you join in,” he encourages.

“You know,” he begins, “Elvis and I have a pretty interesting relationship. We’ve known each other for quite a while."You listen quietly as he continues, “He’s not just the king of rock and roll; he’s a genuinely good guy. People often see the fame and the persona, but behind all that, he's incredibly down-to-earth. He has this way of making you feel comfortable, no matter how big the crowd is.”Tom chuckles, reminiscing. “There have been times when we’ve just sat around, talking about life, music, and everything in between. He’s surprisingly insightful.” It makes me think about the layers of celebrity that often go unnoticed. I look at Tom, a curious expression on my face and I think “Why is Tom telling me this? Is he trying to get me to gain interest in Elvis?” I look at Tom with a calm expression and say, “that's why my father admires him so much.” Tom was surprised .,“That’s a wise way to look at it. It’s great that you have that trust in your dad’s instincts,” he replies, nodding in approval.As the party unfolds, I notice Elvis subtly observing Tom and me from a distance. There’s a flicker of something in his gaze—perhaps jealousy? As Tom steps away from me, I reflect on how, although Tom might not possess the same striking looks as Elvis, there’s something genuine about him—his ability to sense and understand emotions in others.I think those who are mostly conventionally good looking can sometimes come across as conceited. A thought blooms in my mind,"I hope I fall in love with a person similar to Tom."

Tom leans in toward Elvis and casually recounts my earlier conversation. “And then Gesilda said, ‘that's why my father admires him so much.’” Elvis listens intently and then Elvis's expression shifts, a mixture of amusement and intrigue crossing his face. “Really?” he responds with a laugh.Elvis and Tom spoke about me. Tom nudges Elvis playfully and teases, “You love her, don’t you?” Elvis chuckles lightly "Well, love is a strong word," he says.Tom leans in closer, a teasing smirk on his face. “Come on, you know you’re a little taken with her! I mean, look at the way you’ve been talking about her,” he nudges Elvis, trying to prod him for a reaction.Elvis smiles but plays coy. “I think she’s just refreshing. It’s nice to meet someone who isn’t just starstruck,” he replies.Tom raises an eyebrow with a knowing grin. “So, what you’re saying is you do love her, don’t you?” Elvis laughs again. “Let’s just say she’s interesting,” he says, his tone light but hinting that he finds you captivating.

I was surprised when Elvis approaches you alone. He flashes that charming smile of his, he leans in slightly and says, “Come on, stay with me tonight. It’ll be fun!”Ultimately, you shake your head and nod no silently, deciding that the idea of spending the night with him is just a bit too far out of your comfort zone.Instead of being discouraged by your answer, Elvis seems amused by your response. He sits right next to you, maintaining a friendly, relaxed demeanor that surprisingly eases any initial discomfort I might have felt. As you sit there, you think to yourself, "Why do I not feel so uncomfortable right now?"Feeling curious, you respond with a calm face, “Why not ask my brother to hang out with you? Elvis smirks, clearly amused by your straightforwardness and the suggestion. “Your brother’s cool, but I was hoping to get to know you better”. Elvis leans back slightly, his smile lingering and he says “I promise, I’m not as terrifying as people think. Just a guy who loves to sing and share some good times.”When Elvis turns to you and asks, “Do you trust me ?” you reply without hesitation, “No, not that much.” His expression shifts,a mix of disappointment and amusement crossing his face. “Oh really? That’s a bold answer. Why not?” he probes. Feeling a bit awkward but determined to be honest, you reply, “Because you are a man.”

Elvis's eyes widen in surprise before bursting into laughter. “Wow! That’s quite an answer!” he exclaims.“Okay, I’ll give you that one,” he says, still chuckling. “I guess that’s fair—it can be complicated, can’t it?”As I engage in conversation with Elvis, I can’t help but observe him closely, noting that he seems to have gained a little weight and is starting to appear less healthy. You think to myself, "Elvis won't remain fit after some time".As a few people approach Elvis to greet him in a business context, discussing deals and collaborations, I watch the dynamic unfold. I wonder "What’s so interesting about this life?" As the evening unfolds, Elvis and my father quietly converse, and you can see the wheels turning in their heads. After some time, Dada turns to me and my brother with a smile that hints at excitement. “Guess what? Elvis has invited both of you to stay at his house tonight!”

My brother’s eyes widen with enthusiasm, while I feel a twinge of confusion. “Wait, what?” I say, trying to process the sudden change in plans. “What do you mean?”Dada holds out a suitcase packed with my clothes, giving it to me with a grin. “I took the liberty to prepare some things just in case!” he says. Dion lights up at the prospect, but I feel a twinge of confusion. “Wait, where are Dion’s clothes?” I ask, glancing at the suitcase Dada is handing to me, which is filled with my own belongings.Dada chuckles, “I just grabbed yours, thinking you’d need some essentials. I didn’t get time to pack for him.”As I and my brother watch my parents say their goodbyes.“Goodnight, Elvis!” my mother calls out warmly, her smile bright and genuine. Elvis responds with his charming smile, “Goodnight! Thanks for coming,” as he bids them farewell with a wave.

After some time, Elvis finally returns to greet me and Dion with that signature charm of his. “Hey there! So, I have to ask—why did you agree to stay?” he inquires about my decision to stay.I explain the turn of events. “Well, my father had already packed a suitcase of my clothes without my knowledge ” I reply, feeling a hint of embarrassment as I recall the moment. “He just shoved it in my hands and explained the situation.” Elvis’ eyebrows raise in shock and then he bursts out laughing uncontrollably. “That’s classic! Your dad really had it all planned out!” Dion joins in on the laughter.As Elvis invites me and Dion for dinner, a mix of excitement and anxiety washes over me and I think , "A handsome man is going to know what I eat and stuff." The thought of being so exposed, having someone like Elvis take an interest in the details of my preferences, makes me feel uneasy.Elvis leads the way, and I can see his maid busily preparing a spread of food in the kitchen. I take a moment to absorb the array of food before me.

The spread is distinctly American, featuring classic comfort foods—meatloaf, mashed potatoes, macaroni and cheese, and a vibrant salad. .With a hint of surprise in my voice, I ask, “Are these what Americans eat?”The room goes quiet for a moment as everyone looks at you, shocked at my innocent question. Elvis is the first to recover; he bursts into laughter, clearly amused by my straightforwardness. Dion joins in, chuckling at the situation, while the maid also giggles, unable to hold back her reaction.Elvis leans back in his chair, a smile on his face. “I suppose you could say it’s a classic American home-cooked meal! Not everyone eats like this all the time, but it’s definitely comfort food,” he explains, still chuckling.

I would love to hear your thoughts!💗

[motomamita]

fugitive!könig × naive!farmer!reader

warnings: smut, +18, no condom, innocence kink, breeding kink, baby trapping, virginity loss, female reader, dub-con!!

fugitive!könig who managed to escape the law, after committing several crimes, and now travels throughout the country hiding his identity.

On one of his many trips he ends up arriving at a small town, almost lost in time, where its few inhabitants live off their animal farms and orchards. Apparently no one had televisions, and the few radios only broadcast music that was overshadowed by static. This ensured that no one there would be able to recognize him and gave him the opportunity to stay and rest for a few hours.

Tired of walking and extremely hungry, König sat down in a small cafe to have a drink. The people around him looked at him strangely, not only because they didn't know him but also because of his intimidating appearance. His back was broad, he had long legs, and the muscles in his arms were noticeable even though he was wearing a wind jacket that covered him. However, no one seemed to be bothered by his presence, the people there loved tourists and König seemed completely like one.

When it was time to pay, he noticed that he had ordered and consumed more than he could afford. He was about to offer some of his "camping" knives in exchange for the money he was missing until a figure approached him.

"Don't worry if you don't have the money to pay." you spoke with a sweet voice and doing everything possible so that Konig would not feel embarrassed. "I sell the fruits to the owner of the place so I'm sure I can reach an agreement with him."

König was fascinated by you. Not only because of your timely friendliness but also your very natural and almost unique appearance that was very difficult to find in other places. You were wearing a jean gardener, some comfortable shoes and you were carrying a basket that minutes ago was full of fruits and vegetables from your garden. König looked down, somewhat shy and not knowing how to react to you, the truth is that during his escape he had not met many friendly people.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to ask you for anything in return." You smiled when you saw that no words came out of his mouth. "Here we greatly appreciate tourists and travelers, after all they are the ones who keep this small town from turning into a ghost town."

You invited König to take refuge in your small house for as long as he needed before leaving again for another place. König accepted, surprised at your remarkable naivety in letting a complete stranger into your house and providing him with all the care.

When he arrived, you showed him where the shower was and what his room would be where he could rest. You left a clean change of clothes on his bed and selflessly went off to make dinner. Once he cleaned, König followed the delicious smell and came to the kitchen where you were on your back stirring a large pot of what seemed to be a stew. You were so focused that you didn't notice the presence of the big man behind you. he thought about how easy it would be to cut your neck with one of those long knives you had there. But the idea quickly disappeared when you turned around and a wide smile formed on your face when you saw him.

That stew was the best he had tasted in a long time, so much so that he served himself 3 plates, leaving you totally pleased. The next morning, König didn't really know exactly what to do. He could stay one more night and wake up in the middle of the night to raid your entire home, even leave after having a trip with you. He was hesitant, and that hesitation turned into doubt when you offered to cut his hair and trim his long beard, which he accepted.

That same afternoon König sat down to drink a lemonade made by you while he watched you harvest super large, red strawberries from a distance. He fixed his gaze on the way your pants hugged your butt in a tempting way and how you hummed a melody quietly that he couldn't make out. A tingling appeared in König's tummy and he suddenly noticed an erection growing inside his pants. You looked so pretty, so innocent. It was obvious from afar that you didn't kill a fly and that your care for him was sincere.

The days passed and König seemed to have no intention of leaving, that didn't bother you at all. Now he helped you with the heavy work on the farm, carrying large amounts of hay on his shoulder and feeding the animals. His favorite activity was watching you milk the cows, fantasizing about your hands and the way the milk dripped from them.

His approaches to you intensified, taking advantage of the slightest opportunity to touch you or rub against you. he soon discovered that you had no idea about any sexual activity, acting confused at his double meaning words and insinuations. You were the perfect muse to fulfill all his fantasies without anyone being able to stop him.

Your parents had died a long time ago, leaving you alone in charge of the big farm and all the obligations of the adult world. That led König to think that life on that farm couldn't be bad. He knew how to handle hard work well and you did everything you could to teach him and please him. The idea of ​​starting from scratch, with you there, totally convinced him.

You were a healthy, hard-working woman and you needed someone like konig with you. But König needed to have something that would force you to keep him there with you, forever and that would confirm the mutual love that you both had to give each other. That's when he found the solution: he had to get you pregnant.

That afternoon he made a point that you wouldn't leave the stable until you were full of his cum. He started by complimenting your dress and how pretty that color looked on you. Then the caresses that increased in intensity until he managed to let you be carried away by him and his carnal desire. Now he had you under him, with your skirt up and your underwear hanging from one of your feet. Out of desperation, König only lowered his pants to his heels, even with his work boots on. You were on a large pile of hay, sweating from the great summer heat and moaning loudly.

His thrusts were brutal, making their way inside you that you barely had time to understand everything that was happening. The pleasure was so much that you could barely think about anything other than König's gaze and the way his balls slapped your ass.

"Oh, baby. You're so so tight.. And wet, shit" König groaned, sighing loudly at the pleasure your pussy was giving him. "Tell me, how did a cute little thing like you stay a virgin for so long, huh?" You opened your mouth to answer but only moans came out. "Uh? Talk to me, sweetheart, talk to me.."

"I.. I don't know.." you managed to say, overstimulated by everything. König's rough shirt rubbed against your clit, giving both pleasure and pain. König was so big that he covered you with his entire body, leaving you with almost no place to breathe air other than his breath.

"Uh? Don't you know? These farm boys are idiots... They wouldn't know how to please a pretty thing like you..." König cut off his sentence to get even closer to you and kiss you, putting his tongue inside your mouth. You tried to keep up with him but that triggered the kiss to be even wetter and hotter for him.

"König.. Give me more, please!" He smiled as he heard the urgency in your broken voice. You looked so pretty like that, almost not understanding what was happening but still pleased and eager for him to give you even more.

He, ready to please you, grabbed your legs and raised them to your shoulder, adopting a new position. His thrusts continued, his fat cock forcing its way into your no longer so virgin pussy and the simple sound of your skin slapping together made your warm walls embrace him. Not really knowing what to do, you brought your hands to König's big, muscular shoulders, feeling a few scars on them.

"Oh, my pretty little thing.. I'm going to fill you inside and you're going to be the prettiest mom in this whole damn town.." You dug your nails into his shoulder and your gaze was filled with confusion. "You like it, huh? You're going to make me so happy, isn't that what you want?"

You hesitated for a few seconds, not sure what he meant but his cock rammed even deeper into you leaving you almost without any thought. Tears formed in your eyes from the pleasure and absolute adoration with which he looked at you.

"Come on, mommy.. Make me happy, carry my precious baby.."

In the same way that König had managed to get his way in prison, he had gotten his way with you. Now you both lived together as a couple on the farm, happy and with a baby on the way inside your fertile womb.

[onlinedolly]

tw: HEAVY non con

pervy drug dealer suguru who preys on you cuz youre young n pretty, you’re so unsure but all your friends do it n he promised he’ll be here the whole time for you! ‘sweet thing, ya alright?’ he’d ask when you cough and choke on your spit after your first inhale and he’d smile real wide n creepy when you say you’re fine you wanna keep goin’.

testing the waters after you get real high, too high for your own good honestly, by rubbing up your thigh with comforting words. eventually he gets ballsy enough to lean in and kiss your cheek, ‘oh so cute baby’ he’d murmur when you shy away tellin him you’re uncomfortable with that.

but at this point? you’re really to high to honestly resist him, weak pushes and mumbled words as he scoots closer to you. his hand is ghostin your pretty pink panties and you shudder, trying to clench your thighs around his big hand. you’re cryin at this point, hiccuped sobs and soft pretty little ‘no’s that egg him on.

eventually he’s got his fingers under your panties and for a little thing that’s resisting so much he can’t help but note how wet you’ve gotten. your hand is barely gripping his wrist in a half ass attempt to pull it away, you’re hazy and all you can smell is the sour stench of weed and cigarette smoke wafting from getous clothes. it made you feel sick.

getou’s got his fingers spreading apart your pretty pink pussy, testing the waters as he grazes your clit. getou is usually a mean, rough man, all groping and vulgar words during sex. but you were such a cute little thing, clearly inexperienced and way too high, how could he truly be anything except sickly sweet.

he keeps going then, pressing sloppy kisses to your neck, running his fingers up and down your pretty cunt. ‘i wanna go’, you’d cry out, ‘won’t tell anyone i promise!’ but it’s a little too late for that isn’t it, really? not when he’s this deep, not when he wants nothing more then to see you cum around his fingers. he ignored your pleas, working his middle finger into your tight cunt. and god were you tight. you found a little more of your voice then, wailing in pain as he attempts to get his middle finger knuckle deep inside of you.

‘sweet thing, keep cryin just like that.’ he coos at you, pressing his thumb against your clit. suguru asks if you want another hit then, when you shake your head (as much as you can) he’s already pressing the joint to your lips, fucking his middle finger in and out of you hard making you force an inhale.

getou laughs all mean when you cough again, and after a few moments pass he’s got your pretty little tits exposed pinching your nipples with his free hand. you’re so close to coming around his thick finger, he can feel it in the way you pulse around it. you’re still a sobbing mess, embarrassed at the involuntary moans leaving your lips.

‘gna pee i think!’ you gasp, way too high to understand what was truly happening. getou laughs again, hes got a ruthless pace going, in and out hard as he rubs your clit. when you finally cum it’s the most he’s seen your body moved in a while, you spasm and cry and all he can think is he wonders if you’ll come smoke with him again.

[winxanity-ii]

SACRILEGIOUS DEVOTION [1/3]

ship: father charlie x fem!nun!reader warnings: nsfw 🔞 (oral sex/f. receiving; overstimulation; coercion/dub-con?; sacrilege, heavy religious imagery) word count: 3.6k a/n: So, Father Charlie is out here losing all his morals and sanity on Grotesquerie and my mind couldn't help but match it, so what's a better idea other than channeling all the religious trauma/journey into a spicy one-shot? i for one feel like it's a mini-therapy, but enough rambling, enjoy 😩🫶🏾 i'm in love with a holy man, mother 😔…. second part: 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 and final part: 𝐃𝐀𝐌𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

★·.·´ɢʀᴏᴛᴇsǫᴜᴇʀɪᴇ 🇲‌🇦‌🇸‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌🇱‌🇮‌🇸‌🇹‌`·.·★

Father Charlie Mayhew was a sick man.

Not in the manner of flesh, but of spirit. He could feel the sickness festering in the quiet corners of his heart, a sinful yearning that had taken root there, twisting itself around his thoughts like creeping ivy.

It was a sickness that, he believed, made him a grotesque parody of the holy man he was meant to be. For how could he call himself righteous, devoted, when every whisper of prayer felt stained by the way his eyes followed you, Sister ____?

You were a vision of purity, an embodiment of the kind of gentle devotion that Father Charlie envied and craved all at once.

He watched you from a distance, always careful not to draw your gaze, afraid of what you might see if you looked too deeply. How dutiful you were, sweeping the church aisle with a focus that made him forget the dust and see only the graceful motion of your hands.

The sun, filtered through stained glass, seemed to seek you out, casting colors on your habit as if to mark you as someone far beyond his grasp, almost holy in your mundane tasks.

It was in the mornings, when he heard the soft chime of your laughter in the courtyard as you fed the pigeons, that he felt the deepest sting of his wretchedness.

The world seemed simpler in those moments, your laughter echoing off the stone walls, the warmth of early sun painting the sky in soft pinks and oranges. He wondered if you knew how your kindness drew even the animals to you, their heads dipping into your palms as if receiving communion.

There was a stillness to you, a gentleness in every gesture.

The worst of it was during your services. Father Charlie had seen you on your knees before, hands folded in earnest prayer, your lips moving softly as you whispered your devotion to God.

He would stand at the back of the chapel, watching with a mixture of awe and something far darker. He told himself it was admiration, but the truth festered beneath that facade.

It was longing, a hunger that ached at the edges of his soul.

A storm raged outside the convent one evening, winds battering the church walls with a fury that mirrored the tempest building in his chest. The clouds were bloated, dark as his thoughts, and thunder rolled across the sky with a violence that shook even the faith he held so dear.

You had come to his chambers in the dead of night, your knock barely audible over the howling wind. He had been preparing for bed, freshly out of the shower, wearing only his boxers when he heard you at the door.

The creak of the old wood seemed to echo forever as he opened it, and there you stood, eyes wide, looking so impossibly fragile in the dim candlelight of the corridor. Your modest night slip clung to your form, the thin fabric shifting in the draft that sneaked in from the hallway.

Charlie's breath had caught in his throat at the sight of you, innocence incarnate, seeking refuge with him.

He hesitated for only a moment before allowing you in, quickly wrapping himself in a silk robe that hung loosely on his shoulders, barely tied. He knew he should not let you enter, but there was something in the way you looked at him—so trusting, so devoted—that made him abandon every rational thought.

You had come asking to pray with him, your soft voice trembling as you spoke. The storm outside seemed like a reflection of the turmoil within him as he let you step past the threshold, closing the door behind you.

Now, you were here, kneeling before him, your eyes upturned and wide, waiting for his command, for his instruction like the obedient servant of God that you were.

Your soft voice brought him out of his thoughts, a gentle, "Father...?"

Charlie could only lament to himself how sinfully pure you looked. He hummed softly, his eyes dark as they trailed over you, lingering on the curve of your shoulders, the delicate line of your neck.

The flickering candlelight cast dancing shadows across your skin, highlighting the innocence that made his hunger all the more unbearable.

"Yes, forgive me, Sister. Let us now pray," he finally said, his voice low and rough, the words nearly swallowed by the sound of the wind outside. He reached out, his fingers brushing against your forehead, and you leaned into the touch without hesitation, your eyes closing as if his hand was a blessing.

He swallowed hard, his thoughts spiraling deeper into the forbidden desires he had tried so desperately to keep buried.

He began to pray, his voice low, raspy, each word a struggle against the chaos inside him. "Heavenly Father, we come before you tonight..." But the words felt hollow, their meaning slipping away as he watched you, kneeling so obediently at his feet.

His eyes darkened, wandering further down, tracing the lines of your form. The way your lashes fluttered against your cheeks, the soft rise and fall of your chest with each breath—it all seemed to pull him further from the sanctity of the moment.

He should have been thinking of God, of salvation, of the purity of the prayer—but instead, he was thinking of you, of the way the thin fabric clung to your skin, the soft curve of your breasts visible through the modest slip.

He licked his lips, his gaze fixed on the delicate line of your collarbone, the way it rose and fell with each breath you took.

The more he spoke, the less the words mattered. He could feel the heat rising in his chest, spreading through his body, his thoughts growing more erratic, each word of the prayer slipping further from its sacred meaning, twisting into something profane, something filthy. "Protect us from all evil..." he whispered as he traced the line of your jaw with his thumb, the words a bitter irony as he felt himself drawn further into the darkness of his desires.

His hand moved lower, fingers trailing down your neck, lingering at the hollow of your throat. His touch was gentle, but there was a weight behind it, a hunger that he could no longer deny.

He could almost see the curve of your bare skin beneath the thin fabric, the outline of your body that he should not be imagining. He tried to focus on the prayer, but every word felt like a lie. He let out a shaky breath, the prayer faltering on his lips. "Guide us... guide us in your light," he managed, his voice thick with the weight of his longing.

The storm outside raged on, the wind howling as if to warn him, but Father Charlie could no longer hear it. All he could hear was the pounding of his own heart, the rush of blood in his ears as he looked down at you, so trusting, so willing.

As the final words of the prayer fell from his lips—"Amen"—you echoed him, your voice soft and unwavering. You blinked open your eyes, looking up at him with such innocence and Charlie felt himself slip past the point of no return.

He knew that no amount of prayer could ever cleanse him of what he wanted, that he could no longer pretend, no longer fight against the pull that drew him to you—the sweet, precious nun who had unknowingly captured his very soul.

Father Charlie stood, his robe slipping slightly from his shoulders, exposing the toned muscle beneath. The wind howled outside, and thunder bellowed again, followed by a flash of lightning that lit the room in a brief, startling blaze of white.

You were still kneeling before him, your wide eyes following his every movement, the flickering light casting you in both shadow and radiance.

Charlie bent at the waist, his fingers reaching out to cup your jaw, thumb caressing your bottom lip as his half-lidded eyes trailed over your face. "Sister ____," he murmured, his voice dripping with a twisted kind of affection, his name for you almost reverent, as though you were something sacred, something he could worship in his own unholy way.

You blinked, shifting slightly beneath his touch, a soft stutter escaping your lips. "F-Father...?"

He grasped one of your hands, his fingers wrapping around yours, and as he stood, he gently urged you to rise with him. His gaze never left your face, his eyes dark and full of something raw. He began to speak, his voice barely more than a murmur, the words heavy with confession. "As a man of God, there are expectations placed upon me," he started, his tone wavering between remorse and something darker, something that made his grip on your hand tighten. "I am meant to guide, to protect, to remain steadfast in my faith."

His other hand moved, slowly pulling your trembling hand against his bare stomach, pressing your palm against the hard planes of his abdomen.

You gasped, your eyes wide as you looked up at him, your hand trembling beneath his. The heat of his skin burned into your palm, the muscles flexing beneath your touch.

Charlie continued, his voice lowering, growing more intense as he spoke. "But these days... these days, Sister, I find myself at war. At war with desires that threaten to consume me..." His words trailed off, and he let out a low hum as he rubbed your hand across his stomach, the movement slow, deliberate.

Your hand hesitated for a moment, the warmth of his skin making you tremble as you instinctively pulled back. But his grip was firm, guiding you back, and slowly, tentatively, your fingers splayed across his stomach, your touch feather-light.

You swallowed hard, your eyes flickering down before you took a timid step closer, as if drawn by some invisible force. Your gaze shifted to the side, your cheeks warming with embarrassment at the proximity, at the way you could feel his heart beating beneath your palm.

Father Charlie's eyes never left you, and he could see every ounce of hesitation, every flicker of uncertainty that danced across your face. He leaned in slightly, his breath brushing against your forehead as he spoke, his voice a low murmur, "There's no need to be afraid, Sister. You are safe here... with me."

You blinked, your lashes fluttering as you dared to look up at him, your eyes meeting his through the veil of uncertainty.

There was something in his gaze, something dark and magnetic that pulled at you, made your pulse race. His thumb brushed the edge of your jaw; the touch almost comforting, but there was an intensity behind it that made you shiver.

"Do you trust me?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, his eyes searching yours.

You nodded slowly, not trusting your voice to speak, your fingers trembling slightly against his skin. He smiled, a slow, almost predatory curve of his lips, and he hummed again, satisfied with your silent answer.

His other hand moved to rest against the small of your back, pulling you just a little bit closer, his robe parting further, exposing more of his chest.

Your breath hitched as you felt the distance between you closing, the way his body seemed to envelop yours. You could barely think, your mind clouded with the storm of emotions and the strange, electric pull you felt toward him.

His thumb traced along your bottom lip, his eyes darkening as he watched you. You felt your pulse quicken, your knees weakening under the intensity of his gaze.

"Good girl," he murmured, his voice a mix of praise and something darker, something that made your heart pound even harder. His words sent a shiver down your spine, and you felt your body react, leaning in just slightly, as if craving more of his warmth, his touch.

His fingers trailed lower, coaxing your hand along his body, and you felt the tension, the desire in every muscle. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear, his voice a husky whisper, "Let me show you, Sister ____... let me show you what devotion truly means."

He kissed you then, his lips crashing against yours like a man starved. His mouth moved hungrily, tasting, devouring, and you felt his tongue lick into your mouth, coaxing a soft, surprised whimper from your throat. His groan vibrated against your lips, the sound raw and desperate.

Your head spun, your senses overwhelmed by the taste of him, the sheer need in his kiss.

You pulled back, gasping for air, your lips tingling from the force of his kiss. He didn't give you a moment to recover; his lips moved to your neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along the sensitive skin.

He nipped at your neck, his teeth grazing just enough to make you gasp, to make your knees weaken beneath you. The heat of his mouth trailed down, his tongue flicking out to soothe each small bite, and you felt your body trembling, a warmth pooling low in your belly.

Charlie's hands were relentless, holding you steady as your body threatened to give out, your knees buckling as his mouth worked against your skin. He pulled back only long enough to whisper your name, his voice thick with something between reverence and hunger.

Before you knew it, he had scooped you up, his arms strong and sure as he carried you towards his bed. Your breath hitched, your fingers clinging to his robe as he moved, each step filled with purpose.

He set you down on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping beneath your weight. His eyes roamed over you, dark and filled with desire, his chest rising and falling with each ragged breath.

Father Charlie moved quickly, his hands deft as he pushed your slip off your shoulders, the fabric sliding down your skin and pooling around your waist. His lips followed the path of the falling slip, pressing soft, lingering kisses along your shoulders, his warm breath fanning across your skin.

You shivered beneath his touch, the cool air of the room prickling at your exposed skin, your nipples pebbling in response.

His eyes darkened at the sight of you, and he let out a low groan, his hands running along your bare arms, feeling the way you trembled beneath him. "You're like a goddess," he murmured, his voice thick with reverence and lust. "Perfect. Untouched. A temptation I can't resist." His lips found your collarbone, kissing, nipping, his words vibrating against your skin.

You felt heat rise in your cheeks, your heart pounding as his lips moved lower, trailing down the center of your chest, his hands spreading across your back, urging you to arch into him. His kisses were relentless, each one making your breath catch, making your body react in ways that felt both unfamiliar and thrilling.

You couldn't stop the soft whimper that escaped your lips, your hands clutching at the sheets beneath you, unsure of what to do, where to touch.

Charlie pulled back for a moment, his eyes locking onto yours, his gaze filled with hunger. He pushed you back against the bed, guiding you to lie down, his hands never leaving your body, his touch possessive, as if he couldn't bear to be without contact. He looked down at you, splayed out before him, your slip barely covering you, and he licked his lips, his eyes raking over every inch of your exposed skin.

"Look at you," he whispered, his voice dripping with a mix of adoration and hunger. "So innocent, so pure... and all mine." He leaned down, his lips capturing yours in a heated kiss, his hands working the slip further down your body, baring you completely to him.

The cool air made you shiver, your body exposed, vulnerable, and you couldn't help the way your legs shifted, instinctively trying to close.

Charlie's hands moved to your knees, gently but firmly pushing them apart, his eyes never leaving your face as he watched your reaction. His lips moved from your mouth, trailing down your jaw to your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin as he groaned against you.

He pulled the slip away entirely, tossing it aside, his hands roaming over your bare skin, mapping every inch as though he were committing you to memory. "You are... perfection," he muttered, his voice strained, filled with a hunger that made your breath hitch.

His lips moved lower, trailing down your body, leaving a heated path across your chest, your stomach, and further down. His hands were strong, keeping your legs pinned open to the bed, his fingers pressing into your thighs with a possessive hold. He kissed along your inner thighs, his warm breath fanning over your skin, making you shiver, anticipation coiling in your belly.

You instinctively tried to scoot back, to move away as you felt his breath getting closer to your core, but Charlie's grip tightened, his hands holding you firmly in place. He looked up at you, his eyes dark, almost predatory, as he whispered, "Stay still, Sister... let me worship you."

He breathed you in, a deep, satisfied groan rumbling from his chest. His eyes fluttered shut for a moment, as if savoring the scent of you, and then he leaned in, his tongue licking a slow, deliberate stripe from your entrance to your clit.

A squeal, half surprise and half pleasure, escaped your lips, your back arching slightly off the bed.

Father Charlie's tongue moved with a purpose, his lips wrapping around your clit, sucking gently before flicking his tongue over the sensitive bud. His hands kept your legs spread, his grip firm and unyielding as he worked his mouth against you, his groans vibrating against your core.

He was relentless, his mouth moving with a hunger that made your head spin, your fingers gripping the sheets beneath you, trying to ground yourself as waves of pleasure washed over you.

You could feel his smooth skin against your inner thighs, the sensation only adding to the overwhelming pleasure that built inside you. His tongue moved in slow, teasing circles, his lips pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses against you, his eyes flicking up to watch your every reaction.

The sight of you—your flushed cheeks, your parted lips, the way your chest heaved with every ragged breath—only seemed to spur him on, his groans growing louder as he tasted you.

Your body reacted before your mind could catch up, your hips bucking against his mouth, a whimper slipping from your lips. Charlie's hands moved to hold your hips down, pinning you to the bed as he continued, his tongue delving into you, his nose brushing against your clit as he worked, utterly consumed by the taste of you.

He was lost in it, in you, his tongue moving faster, his mouth desperate as he devoured you.

You gasped, your fingers threading through his hair, pulling him closer, your body trembling beneath him. The heat built inside you, coiling tighter and tighter, until you felt like you might break apart. His name fell from your lips, a breathless plea, and he groaned in response, the vibrations sending a shockwave of pleasure through you.

Your back arched off the bed, your breath coming in short, desperate gasps as you felt yourself teetering on the edge, your body ready to fall apart under his touch.

Your first orgasm washed over you without warning, a blinding wave of pleasure that left you feeling weightless, your entire body trembling as you came undone beneath him. You melted into the bed like butter, your limbs going limp as the intensity of it left you breathless.

Charlie's mouth moved against you with a fervent hunger, drinking in every bit of your release as if it were the most sacred offering.

A small whimper escaped your lips as the sensation grew overwhelming, your body growing sensitive to his touch. He didn't stop, his tongue moving lazily, drawing out every last bit of pleasure from you, his mouth still savoring you.

Your grip on his head shifted, your fingers now pushing at him, trying to get him to stop, but his hands only gripped your thighs tighter, keeping you in place. "W-Wait..." The heat in your stomach was already starting to build again, the slow, deliberate movements of his tongue igniting another fire deep within you.

Charlie groaned against you, the sound vibrating through your core, his face buried even further between your legs, his tongue relentless.

Your breath came in quick, shallow gasps, your body trembling once more as the pleasure built. You could feel another orgasm approaching, your mind spinning as you tried to form words, but all that left your throat were broken, incoherent sounds—static that filled the room as you babbled.

You tried to scoot back, to move away from the overwhelming sensation, but Charlie's strong arms wrapped around your hips, yanking you back down, his grip unyielding. His own hips pressed into the bedding below, his desperation evident as he devoured you.

You teetered on the edge once more, the pleasure too much, too intense, until it finally broke over you again, your body arching, your mind going completely blank as you came undone a second time.

The world around you seemed to fade away, leaving only the sensation of his mouth on you, the heat, the pressure, the overwhelming ecstasy that left you gasping for air.

As you came down from your high, your body trembling, Father Charlie finally pulled back, his lips and chin glistening. He stared up at you with dark, lidded eyes, his expression filled with hunger, with desire that seemed insatiable.

There was no hesitation, no regret—only a raw need that made it clear he no longer cared about going against his vows, no longer cared about the priesthood or what was right.

All that mattered to him was you.

A/N: i'm sorry, i just watched Grotesquerie last night and i've become obssessed.... ugh, the tension between father charlie and sister megan is just *chefs kiss* it's clear that megan is obviously meant to be y/n and the screenplay was written in the intent of it being catered to the female gaze because wheeeeww 😩...

[wanderingelvis]

firstly, love your work!! second, can you write something about elvis being protective as well as maybe some Memphis Mafia content too? 🎀

i have a few of these requests so hopefully this works for all of them! 🎀🪩🕊️

🧚 Masterlist 🧚

word count: 2,508

pairing: 70s elvis x fem reader

warnings: kinda yandere themes, at least very possessive/protective elvis, manipulation

You’d brought new, fresh light into Elvis’ life. He was deep in his Vegas residency and you were this sweet little thing, bringing soft giggles, affectionate touches and happiness into the International Hotel.

Equally, this purity that you radiated came with a price. Elvis felt a need to protect you, in fact, all of the Mafia did. They were paid handsomely to protect you but even if they weren’t, you tugged on all of their heartstrings and they’d all look out for you, but none more so than Elvis.

Sometimes, he’d take it too far, not that you’d realise. His protectiveness went right over your pretty little head. 

Like the time that he’d kicked out two men from a meet and greet with him after a show because they gave you a “shifty look”, or when he fired a make up assistant for letting you have even so much as a sip of champagne. 

You’d ask about them, where they’d gone as you’d sit on Elvis’ knee and Elvis would plead ignorance, telling you that he ain’t getting involved with none of that personnel nonsense and you’d nod before turning back to your fashion magazine.

It was after a show that you thought was simply magical that you decided you needed to find a way to celebrate that success with Elvis. 

And so, you settled on getting Elvis a cupcake. 

You’d seen a stand of cupcakes as you’d headed into the auditorium before the show, as you’d been escorted in, with Elvis’ stepmother Dee holding your hand painfully tightly, seeing you as more of a burden than a friend. You had wanted to stop to try one of the cupcakes but Dee had yanked your wrist a little too harshly that you didn’t get the chance.

You had wished that you’d be free to roam around on your own but Elvis had made it clear that you were always to have an escort.

He insisted that of course he trusted you, it was strangers he didn’t trust, he couldn’t, he tried to explain to you as you nodded albeit with those adorable pouty lips.

In truth, he knew you were a mischevious and curious little thing, and not only that but you were just a little too naive to be left to your own devices. 

He just knew, if someone tried to take advantage of you, they’d be able to succeed just too easily and to that end, Elvis had made a rule to always be escorted, whether you liked it or not.

But you’d decided you were a big girl, you could surely get a cupcake on your own as a present for Elvis after his amazing show and it would be okay. 

Surely.

So as the crowd roared with applause, you scooted over in the booth to Larry Geller, the latest of Elvis’ entourage.

“‘Scuse me Larry, I, um, I gotta go to the ladies room and then I gotta go n’grab this, um, this cupcake for E, I wanted t’get him this present because, well, see that was such a lovely show, and um,” You quickly realised you were rambling to justify being left alone. “I wanted to get him somethin’ pretty!” You said softly with your big eyes glittering.

“Well, you sure you can go on yer own kid? Y’know I was told that you s’posed t’have someone with yer.” Larry mumbled, not really paying attention to you but watching a gaggle of female Elvis fans that were waving to get the attention of the Mafia as Elvis could be seen heading backstage.

“Oh sure Lar! It’s just the ladies room! I’ll be back in no time!” You said, seizing your opportunity. “Promise!” You giggled, scrambling out of the booth and making your way to the cupcake stand.

By the time you’d reached the stand, shuffling through all the bodies piling out of the auditorium, you were enchanted by all the different pretty cupcakes, delicately iced and decorated individually.

Meanwhile, backstage, Elvis had reached his dressing room only to be greeted by the Mafia and not the one single person he actually wanted to see. 

“Where is Y/N?” Elvis said sternly, looking around the room and missing an absent baby.

“She wanted to surprise you with a cupcake so she went to the stand in the lobby.” Larry informed him, not thinking anything of it. 

And suddenly, the tension in the room went from 0 to 100 as everyone else, more experienced with Elvis’ rules and regulations, especially towards you, knew what a monumental fuck up had just occurred.

“What do you mean she’s gone to the lobby? Who’s with her?” Elvis practically spat, his eyes scanning the room to see no one else missing but you.

“I- I sent her on her own.” Larry stammered, realising the error he’d made.

“Goddamn it!” Elvis shouted, slamming his whiskey glass on the table, causing it to shatter and make grown men flinch. “Go get her now. If she’s noticed and I swear to God, if that little girl is hurt, if any goddamn motherfucker has put their hands on her, I’ll kill all of you with my own goddamn hands.” Elvis roared.

A big group left the room and headed out in search of the little girl who was currently in the hotel lobby. 

“It’s you!” A shrill voice hollered at you just as you’d purchased a strawberry cupcake, making you glance up. “You’re Elvis’ chick,” the elderly lady said, partially to you, partially to her friend next to her as the two older women cornered you, the little thing as you held the cupcake for Elvis in your hands, your eyes wide like a deer in headlights.

“I, um, I-“ You stammered, the poor baby. 

“You are a weird little thing aren’t you?” One of them said cruelly. 

“It’s like what they say in the papers about her being like some kinda little pet of Elvis’.” The other one said, in an observational tone that made you scrunch your eyebrows sweetly in confusion. 

“Wha-“ You managed to murmur before being interrupted.

Because then the pile on started, as the enormous crowd started noticing you.

“Y/N, over here!”

“Is it true Elvis dresses you?”

“Does Elvis control you?”

“Are you really a virgin?” 

“Would ya sign this for me?”

“Who did you screw to get with Elvis?”

With tears swelling up in your big eyes and your big bottom lip jutted out, wobbling as amxiety consumed you, all you had wanted was a cupcake for Elvis. 

But maybe he had been right all along, maybe you did need someone with you at all times. 

“Y/N, come here, come with us!” An older lady said, grabbing your forearm with a pinch, making the little girl yelp.

“No, no!” You whimpered as hot tears started to spill from your eyes and down your cheeks. You cowered, trying to wriggle away from the lady. 

You were close to a fully blown panic attack, not that you knew what the words were for that. You just knew you needed your Daddy. 

“Get away from her! I said move!” A loud voice yelled. You recognised the voice as Red West and saw him and Jerry making their way through the crowds.

Red got the woman off you with ease as you clung to Jerry, petrified of your surroundings.

“S’alright now honey, we’re gon’ get you back to EP, you’re okay now darlin’.” Jerry lovingly reassured, sensing how terrified you were, as you sniffled and were rushed away by him.

Truth be told, Jerry thought Larry was a bit of an ass, he understood why Elvis liked him but he knew he wasn’t the right person to leave you with.

You were quickly ushered into the security room where you saw Elvis, surrounded by his entourage and you wasted no time in running over to him.

“There’s my little one.” Elvis soothed, consoling his baby, rubbing circles in your back as you hiccuped and clung to him. “Breathe now baby, deep breaths f’me. Are ya hurt lil’ one?” Elvis cooed but he didn’t give you the time to respond. “Jer, she hurt?” Elvis almost barked.

Jerry stood there, hands on his hips and shaking his head. “I don’t know, boss. There was a crowd and some old lady was hollerin’ at her when I got to her.” 

“A-a lady, a-a lady grabbed me and um, she wanted to, she wanted to take me away and I- I didn’t wanna, I didn’t wanna go Daddy,” You sniffled oh so vulnerably, letting out the nickname Elvis had instructed you to give him and one that slipped out when you did indeed feel needy.

Elvis felt his heart yearn to comfort you but he was still seething at the massive oversight that had taken place, as well as the fact that you’d disobeyed his rule.

“Honey, you know what our rule is about wandering off?” Elvis said coolly, devoid of emotion as he was trying to restrain his anger.

You nodded your head feebly, your cheeks turning a softer pink at the slight embarrassment you felt from Elvis talking down to you in front of all of the guys. “To not wander off on my own and always tell you where I’m goin’ to keep me safe.” You recited sadly in a soft voice. 

“Ain’t that right.” Elvis said lowly. “So why, did ya think it would be a bright lil’ idea to disobey me huh kid? Y’need me t’spank that sweet little ass right here and now so that y’learn and start listenin’ t’me? Is that what y’need huh?” Elvis chastised. 

You knew all of the guys were uncomfortable but you also knew that Elvis didn’t give a damn, his eyes trained darkly on you and oh boy, did it make you feel the size of a mouse.

You looked around, embarrassed with your wet lashes fluttering as you sniffled a little more, an overwhelming bundle of feelings, including feeling scared, shy, panicked, embarrassed and relieved all swelling in your little tummy.

“Well honey? Y’gon use that mouth little one or do I gotta pull you across m’knee?” Elvis said, taking his index finger under your chin and tilting it as he towered over you, so that your watery eyes could meet his.

“I just wanted to get you a cupcake…” You choked out as Elvis’ brows furrowed with confusion.

“A cupcake?” Elvis said, his expression softening as it so often would whenever you spoke.

You nodded with a pout, your swollen bottom lip jutted out. 

You weren’t intentionally trying to melt Elvis’ heart with those soft, sad puppy dog eyes, you were just naturally so sweet that Elvis couldn’t resist abandoning his threats. 

“Uh huh!” You whined. “See, I saw these pretty cupcakes, the ones, the ones out there!” You exasperated, turning your body to point in the direction of the lobby. “Them ones with the decorations and the icing and I just,” You and Elvis both realised that you were getting all worked up again.

“Baby,” Elvis hushed, rubbing soothing circles into the small of your back. 

He could tell just by your odd albeit cute passion for this cupcake that you were telling the truth and you really didn’t want to be in trouble.

You tried the breathing technique that Elvis had taught you for when you so often get a little too overwhelmed as your breaths got ragged. “M’sorry.” You mumbled.

“S’okay baby,”

“I just, you did such a good show, I mean, y’know  I love every show n’you were just so good n’ all, I just, just wanted to get you a present for it. And, see, the cupcakes were just so pretty!” You whimpered, pleading your case. “I know, I know I ain’t s’posed t’be wanderin’ off, I just really wanted t’get you the cupcake. I promise I ain’t gonna go on my own again, not ever!” You promised, your eyes wide, trying to convince Elvis. 

Elvis looked down at your poor state, he knew it had been a scary experience for you, he just needed to look at the way you were picking at your own fingers, actin’ all fidgety. 

When he looked up to observe the expressions on the Mafia’s faces, he knew they all agreed. His sweet thing meant no malice and she sure as hell had been spooked enough to never want to go anywhere without someone with her — and maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing after all, Elvis thought.

“M’real sorry.” You said softly, calmer now that you’d finally managed to get your words out, even if they weren’t exactly coherent.

Elvis smirked as he saw a cupcake box on the side that you’d clearly put down before you’d run into his big arms only moments before. 

“That the ‘oh so special’ cupcake huh little one?” Elvis said with a smile, pointing his index finger to guide your vision.

You simply nodded, you didn’t really have all that much energy left, you were so overstimulated, you poor thing.

“Jer, hand me that box will ya?” Elvis hollered, with Jerry moving swiftly to grab the box and place it in your hands, the odd sniffle coming from you, observing it all. “Want me t’take a look, dolly?” Elvis asked you, his tone now noticeably gentler than it had been.

“Yup.” Is all you managed to muster as Elvis took your little hand in his big one and guided you to the couch, letting you nestle into his side.

You watched with glassy eyes the man you adored with all your heart open the box, showing a pretty little cupcake, even if it was the tiniest bit battered from all the chaos. 

“Oh baby, how did y’know this one would be my favourite huh? How’d you get so clever?” Elvis cooed, realising his job was now to make you feel better.

“Really?” You squeaked, pushing yourself up from his chest to observe his expression as you bit your finger. 

Elvis grabbed your hand to gently pull it away from your mouth, he never approved of you biting your nails, it would make you sick and that’s the last thing he wanted. 

“That’s right darlin’.” 

“They gave it a name, it’s called ‘The King’.” You said gently before Elvis threw his head back with laughter at having a cupcake named after him. “That’s why I got it!” 

Your whole body began to untense at his laughter and you looked around to see all of his entourage too, laughing at what you’d said, making you feel better.

“Oh baby, whatever am I gon’ do with you hey?” Elvis chuckled, pulling you in to lovingly pepper your face with kisses, eliciting sweet giggles from you.

Despite it being a rhetorical question, Elvis knew exactly what he was going to do with you.

He would never again let you get into such a vulnerable and volatile situation again. He was going to make sure you were always looked after  and always kept by his side. 

Constantly. 

[cameronsbabydoll]

──── BASIC TRAINING ────

A series made by @️ cameronsbabydoll

This series is a celebration in honor of me hitting 6,000 followers on tumblr! This is a military!rafe series since he’s a very frequent requested au of mine ୨୧

CONTENT WARNING (for the whole series): age gap, power imbalance, authority kink, manipulation, possessive behavior, jealousy, virginity loss, fingering, oral (f & m), unprotected sex, inappropriate relationship with superior’s daughter, light corruption kink / innocence kink, degradation/praise mix (e.g. “good girl” / “dumb little thing”), mild public tension, possible voyeuristic elements, rafe being a cocky menace and enjoying it, (eventual) feelings, jealousy, obsession, reader is 19-20 | rafe is 23-24 | everything is legal but morally unwell

You were supposed to be safe at the base this summer — tucked under your father’s watchful eye, far from boys and trouble and anything you weren’t ready for.

But Rafe Cameron?

He’s everything you’ve never had: older, sharper, meaner. He’s one of your father’s soldiers — slick mouth, sweat-slick skin, dog tags clinking when he leans a little too close. and from the second he sees you, it’s already over.

You’re soft. You’re sheltered. You’re untouched.

And now you’re his favorite thing to ruin.

SERIES CHAPTERS ୨୧

chapter one

chapter two

chapter three

chapter four

chapter five

chapter six

chapter seven

chapter eight

chapter nine

chapter ten

chapter eleven

chapter twelve

chapter thirteen

chapter fourteen

chapter fifteen

[mattsweethrt]

「 bestfriendsbf!chris and naive!reader hooking up after a party ᵎᵎ 」

smut, cheating, p in v, slight degradation, drunk sex, cursing, pet names

“chris,” you moaned softly as your legs wrapped around his waist, “this is so fucked up.”

he smirked against your mouth, dipping his head down again to catch your lips with his. “mhmm yeah, say it again.”

he rocked his hips steadily against yours as he had you laid out in the back of his bmw, the windows beginning to fog.

you grasped at his shirt, your mouth moving messily against his. he had one hand on your hip holding your waist firmly, the other one rested up on the foggy window above your head.

“god, you’re so fucking tight,” he muttered, his lips red and swollen as he trailed kisses down your neck. he attacked your skin with kisses, making sure every last inch was covered in marks.

you arched up into him, your soft pants mixed with the squelching sound of chris thrusting in and out of you. “harder,” you gasped, “please.”

chris pulled away, looking down as his lips curls into a smirk. “harder? you want me harder baby?”

you nodded desperately, your glasses nearly falling off your nose, your hair in a tangled mess.

“goddamn, who woulda thought the nerdy bookworm best friend was a slut?” chris slurred, his eyes droopy as he thrusted into you at a relentless speed, his tip kissing your cervix.

you moaned loudly, your jaw falling slack as his cock pulled out, forcefully slamming back into you. chris’ balls slapped against you, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the car. you both looked at one another, each of your expressions lust-filled and fucked out.

maybe it was the alcohol coursing through your veins, or the fact you were fucking your best friend’s boyfriend, but your body was on fire, each little touch from chris making your vision whiten and mind haze.

“think i’m gonna cum,” you panted, frantically and desperately grabbing onto chris’ shirt, “shiiit, i’m so close, don’t stop.”

chris chuckled, his pace not slowing once as he kept ramming into you. “not too far behind either, mama,” he whispered, “tell me you want me.”

“i want you so bad,” you responded, your voice cracking.

he nodded, his eyes screwing shut as he gave you a few more hard thrusts before pulling out, shooting white spurts of cum all over your stomach and thighs. you came too, making a mess of chris’s black leather seats.

he pulled away, sitting back on his knees as he yanked his shirt off, wiping you down hastily before leaning in to press a quick and chaste kiss on your lips.

your lips chased his as he pulled away, the realization settling in on you of what you just did. the two of you gave each other a look, before chris said lowly, “she can’t know.”

bree’s corner ⸝⸝⸝ OOOOOOO first proper fic for the au !!!! sooo excited to write more for them hehe:) as always asks and requests are open !!

[cvnntagious]

☆ 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠... 𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫!𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬

chris was never shy about his profession... not at all, really. truthfully, he only stayed quiet about it as to not make other people uncomfortable. but of course, as soon as he was in front of the right crowd, and the questions started coming, it was like they'd never stop. "nah— no, i don't do all that fake shit," he answered, waving off his friend as he chuckled.

everyone looked to him as they sat around on the couches in your living room, some with wonder on their faces, others with confusion. you were skeptical, to say the least. "y'know what i mean, with those plots and all," chris continued on, "no one even likes that anymore. they wanna see real, unscripted fucking. all the dirty talking and moans, they're just not enjoyable if it's all for show."

"yeah, but i'm sure it's all played out anyways," you were quick to speak up, not thinking too much of the comment you'd made. though the words were simple in your mind, they immediately caused everyone's attention to turn to you, as if you'd told this something no one could've ever possibly thought up.

chris shook his head, grin unwavering. "nah, i scrap anything that seems even remotely forced."

"but porn's always forced, everyone knows that," you quipped, completely disregarding chris' 'professional' opinion.

"y'think so?"

the smirk that began to tug at his slips only seemed to further build the tension that had already started hanging in the air. "yeah," you stated bluntly, the way you crossed your arms gave you a snobbish look, but you didn't care. "i mean, seriously, all those loud moans and screaming and shit... nobody's really that loud, no matter how good it is. and there's just no way chicks are, like, squirting and shaking all the time— i wouldn't even be surprised if squirting wasn't even real."

by this time, chris had shifted comfortably in his seat on your couch, crossing his arms like you had and watching you with an almost unreadable intense stare. he wasn't offended by what you were saying, no. rather, he was curious. he could be way off, but something told him you didn't really know much of what you were talking about.

━━★

"mm-mm, baby, don't go all quiet on me now," chris hissed as his hips snapped to meet yours, his hand reaching to lift your chin and force you to look at him.

"c- chris!" you practically shrieked, hands reaching to claw at his biceps as your back bowed slightly off of your couch, eyes closed and mouth making a pouty little 'o' shape that had chris' ego blowing up his head.

the way his large length filled you up more than you ever had before, threatening to hit your cervix with each thrust had tears brimming at your waterline. your world was being rocked, in every sense of the word, and it was all his fault. he'd decided it was time to change your outlook on everything on one random night over a silly comment you'd made hours prior. "how loud could chicks 'never be'? was it -" he cut off his sentence to pull all the way back and snap his hips as hard as he possibly could, eliciting a loud mewl from you that echoed through your house, "that loud?"

you immediately clung to him, legs wrapping around his torso and arms throwing themselves around his neck. he breathed harshly and groaned in your ear, head dipping to practically nuzzle itself in between your neck and your shoulder for a moment.

chris couldn't help chuckle when he heard you pleading to him, mumbling on about how he was too big, and that you couldn't finish like this. but still, when he slowed down for you, you found yourself whining at the loss of friction, writhing beneath him as he lifted his head to make eye contact with the camera set up on your coffee table. "wait! wait, m'not—wait, no, ke- keep doing that," you rambled on, practically unable to control the babble falling from your lips.

so when you finally decided you were fully satisfied with what he was doing (as if you hadn't already been before), chris' eyebrow raised, realizing he'd really found it now; that gummy sweet spot that made your eyes roll back.

and he shot the lens focused on him a cocky gin before diving all the way back in, allowing his head to drop on your shoulder once more

w/c : 754 a/n : divider by issysh3ll

[gotham-daydreams]

Not Now (PT. 2)

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

[Warnings: Mentions of Neglect, Mild General Yandere(ish) Behavior, Arguing, Awkward Tension(?), No One is Having a Good Time, Angst, Implied Past Injuries (To Reader)]

(When I say arguing I do mean it this time. Might be a bit more OOC? Dick is living up to his nickname. This is longer than the first part, just fyi - and by a good 4k or so words. Again, take your time and remember to take breaks!)

Didn't tag anyone on this post since both this part and the first are posted back to back :] Regardless, enjoy!

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3 (PT. 1). [Series Masterlist]

๑۩۞۩๑————————————————————๑۩۞۩๑

"I… I just don't think it's a good idea. It doesn't feel right, and- and I…" You couldn't think of much else to say. All the reasons you had felt too personal, and you didn't feel comfortable telling Dick any of them. Not out here, and certainly not while he was in the suit. Though even if he wasn't, you weren't sure that it'd make you any more willing to tell him anything. 

After all, you wouldn't even share the date of your birthday if he asked now, with or without the suit.

"Yeah, but why? It doesn't make sense to not go to either place just because you have a ‘bad feeling’ or anything. Even then, you'll be safe, and that's what really matters." That didn't feel like it was the case. Your safety doesn't feel like a priority over him just being able to keep an eye on you, and being able to pull anything he wants to without any prying eyes.

Though it was with that thought, did you wonder when you began to see Dick as someone so untrustworthy that you considered him to be on the same level as a thug out on the streets. Just far more dangerous and capable.

"Look, I just-" You sigh harshly, looking back at Dick as the fire in your chest rose, building up as it poked at your ribs and flesh. Begging for more air, more room to grow. "I'm going to the park. If you're not coming then that's fine by me, and if you're not okay with that, then there's nothing I can do about it." You state, looking forward as you pick up your pace. 

Dick fumbles over his words before he hurriedly matches your pace, "Wait! Let's try and think this over-"

"Why? Even if we're out in the open, you're still a vigilante. If you can defend and look after an entire city, then surely you can protect one person, right? Not to mention that I can take care of myself." You huff, still keeping your eyes forward even as they narrow. You add, "Besides, again- not many people are out tonight. And if anything- seem to be rushing home, because of whatever is going on. We'll be fine."

"Sure. Yeah. I can handle it- but wouldn't it be smarter to just be inside anyway? That way it's less likely for anything to happen. You have to think rationally-" You swiftly cut Dick off again, really trying to put your foot down and stand your ground here.

"I am thinking rationally. You're a skilled vigilante that's been trained under Batman, and have only improved in skill and technique over the years. If anything goes wrong, and I can't handle it, you can. Not to mention that you have a way to contact the others if things really do go sideways, and you're in the suit. I didn't think I needed to say anything else." You sigh, lightly scratching the cup in your hands with your nail.

"Also, if you haven't noticed, even criminals and thugs are running home. It's like some kind of quarantine or lock down is going on. Some random person eavesdropping on us doesn't seem like it'll be a problem. Let alone with all of the noises that seem to be 'persuading' people to go home."

Dick could only sigh himself before saying, "Alright- okay. Fine. But like you said, I'm still in the suit."

"And?"

"And someone could see, and think that you're a close tie to me or something. You could be put in more danger."

"Are you actually worried about that now? You've been walking beside me this entire time when you didn't have to, and it's only now that you're worried about me being seen with you in the suit?"

"How else are we supposed to have this conversation? And I'm sorry for being worried about your safety, and well-being in the future for being seen with me." You could practically hear the eye-roll in Dick's voice despite knowing that he didn't actually do it. When did he get so sarcastic?

"That's not the issue, and you know that. We could've figured out some other way to have this talk, and you didn't have to walk beside me this entire time." You shot him a glance, causing Dick to sigh again.

"What if something happened while I was up top, and I couldn't react fast enough because I wasn't next to you? Someone could've tried something if I wasn't there, especially because you'd appear to be by yourself."

"So… remind me again, who's the paranoid one?"

"Y/n, I'm being serious." Dick states.

"I know. I'm being serious too, and I'm just saying that it's kind of ridiculous to be worrying about that now when it's already been a few minutes." You huff, "And I don't know what you expect me to do about it. I'm not the one in the suit, y'know. Why don't you just go and change somewhere?"

Dick rubs his nose bridge, getting annoyed but not trying to show it as he says, "Fine. I can do that, but at least come with me." He looks at you expectantly as his hand drops from his face. You couldn't help but raise a brow at his words.

"Why?"

"So that I can keep an eye on you…? And if anything happens while I'm changing- I'll be able to jump in and help much faster?" Dick said, confused. Talking as if he was stating the obvious, and maybe he was in a way, but you didn't see why he's so adamant about being close to you enough where he could easily protect you or reach you if needed.

"But wouldn't that kind of go against the point of you changing…?"

"What do you mean?"

"If I wait somewhere and Nightwing walks off, only for you-know-who to pop up after a little while, and we walk off together, wouldn't that be weird? Or at least hint at a certain something?" You point out, a little confused and surprised that you even had to explain this to Dick.

"C'mon, I won't be that obvious. And even then, no one will be able to figure it out."

"You say that like every other villain or wannabe in Gotham isn't some genius or anything. They're criminals and all that, but they aren't entirely stupid."

Dick sighs, though it came out more frustrated than he would’ve liked as he ran a hand through his hair once again, "Still, I'd just like for you to at least be close by. I don't want anything to happen to you, and I want to be able to help out as soon and as quickly as I can if anything does." He explains, getting a little closer to you.

"Please, Y/n. Just come with me."

You shake your head, your shoulders feeling far too heavy, and the flame in your chest was much too hot for you to even think about it. You knew Dick wasn't happy about it when he gave you a little room, but still kept close. As if hoping you'd change your mind, despite already knowing the answer.

"I'll just head to the park, and wait a few minutes. I'm not defenseless and can handle myself for a while, and it's not my fault that I could be in more potential danger because someone thought it was a good idea to come see me, and follow me around while in their suit. You can figure it out, and live without me for a few minutes." You huff harshly, adding, "If you aren't there after that time? I'm leaving. That's all." Once again, you pick up your pace, only to be stopped by Dick as he rushes in front of you.

"Wait- hold on. Are you sure about this? I don't think it's a good idea- and how long exactly will you be waiting? Where are you going if you leave? Are you going back to the apartment? Are you going home?" You don't like how hopeful Dick looked when he asked you that last question, but you push your discomfort to the side, and stand your ground.

"I'm an adult, and I'm a L/n. I'm sure about this. You can think whatever you want, and like I said- I'll be waiting a few minutes. If you're not there by then, I'm going to leave." You narrow your eyes at Dick, piercing him with your gaze as you said, "I've made my choice and I'm sticking to it. If you're not happy about it, or don't agree, then you can leave and I'll go on with my night. I'll wait at the park, and that's that." You state one final time before making your way around Dick, and continuing to walk forward. Luckily, he didn't try to stop you again, and if anything — seemed to stop following you entirely.

All you heard was a low scoff from behind you, and the rush of wind.

When you glance back, Dick was gone, and it was only then did you realize how heavy the air felt. Releasing the breath you didn't know you had been holding, you clutch your chest. Your heart aches, and yet you manage to push on.

Tonight wasn't exactly going well for you, but that almost tipped you over the edge.

You were beginning to hate many things about tonight, along with Dick. It almost made you think that maybe you were lucky back when he hardly ever noticed or talked to you. It made things easier, after all, and of course now that you've had your longest conversation with him — things were only getting harder.

Every word he said made him seem bigger, or pushed you down as an attempt to make you smaller. His reasoning could go from making complete sense, to being outright idiotic and paranoid. With each action of his being either too small or way too much. 

Dick, in that way, was too much.

You could chalk up some of your discomfort and nervousness to your lack of experience with Dick, and being around him. Of course some of his antics and habits would seem strange to you — since you were never able to see much of them, and those that you did notice were from a far, and never up close. You weren't able to experience them yourself, not until now. Though that almost made you grateful for all the times he turned you down or ignored you, seeing as now you could only see how much of a handful he is to deal with. 

Maybe that could've changed if you were more familiar with him, but it was too late for that now. Even if you did wonder how this whole thing would've gone if you did know him. If you were more familiar with how Dick acted, and had actually managed to spend time with him. If Dick was more familiar with you, and how that'd change this whole situation… but, again, it was much too late for that. If he really wanted to know you, he would've taken one of the chances you gave him over the years, and yet he didn't. No one did. No one except for Alfred…

You hope he's okay, at least.

Shaking your head, you push your thoughts to the side. There was no use thinking about 'what if's, not when such thoughts and possibilities kept you in the manor for so long. Not when your mind used them against you, and had you keep that pathetic hope you once desperately clung onto. You promised yourself you wouldn't do that anymore, and so you took a breath, and tried to stop them from coming in. They always slip by, but you try to ignore them. Especially since they caused you so much trouble that could have easily been avoided in the past.

You took a small sip of your coffee, only to pull it away and look at the cup strangely. 

It was… bitter. More so than you remember, and it immediately struck you as odd. Since, Jessica always managed to make your coffee the exact same way every time, and even if she did make some mistakes here and there, the change was never this significant or noticeable. Not like it was now, with the taste lingering on your tongue, almost trying to further stain your taste buds and remain there for as long as possible. As if trying to permanently ingrain itself in your mouth.

You couldn't help but cringe a bit. Maybe getting coffee really was a bad idea after all…

Sighing, you just continue on and brush the weird occurrence to the side. Whatever, you have enough things to deal with and worry about now. There wasn't much you could do about the coffee, and if anything, maybe that just went to further show how horrible your night is going thanks to Dick. 

Though, you wouldn't push it that far, even if your opinion of him was definitely souring by the minute, but the thought was pretty funny to think about, at least.

The night felt calm for once, and it’s only now, with you by yourself, do you realize how much you needed this.

Sure, Gotham was potentially going to hell, and you might see Dick again in a few minutes, but you don't have to worry about that right now. Just here, in the streets, did you have… normal problems. Problems unrelated to a family you no longer wanted to involve yourself with, that also just so happened to be made up of vigilantes. Problems that didn't involve your musical career, and how your rise to fame was becoming both an inconvenience, and a bit of an issue. Problems that… just about everyone has dealt with one way or another.

Your coffee didn't taste quite right, you felt exhausted despite having only walked a bit, and your social battery was just about to hit its limit. The air was just a tad too cold for the clothes you were wearing, you had a strong desire to crawl into bed and sleep like you had nothing else to worry about, and really — besides yourself and making a few dumb mistakes, the only thing you really had to worry about here was getting mugged. Maybe even jumped, at a push.

Yet, such things got a light, airy laugh out of you. You felt so at ease by yourself, and during the most dangerous hours of the night, no less. Despite everything, you couldn't help but find a bit of humor in it, and such a little thing even made you feel better. That uncomfortable heat in your chest dying down, and almost going away entirely as you cooled off.

As funny as it was, you felt safer and so much more at ease without the person that was so adamant about wanting to do all of these things, to protect you. How could you not laugh at the irony?

Suddenly, the bitter taste on your tongue didn't feel so bad anymore.

Walking along Gotham streets when it was so quiet still made you feel a bit uneasy, but for the time being you were able to find some small peace with it. After all, who knew when you'd get another breather like this? Especially with whatever business Dick had with you. Vigilante and hero work wasn't exactly known to be light and easy, after all. 

So, you took this moment as it is. Finding odd little details in the night that helped you relax as much as you could before things continued.

Honestly, you didn't think you were ready for whatever Dick was about to talk about or mention, but you doubt any of it could surprise you. After all, in a city where a villain breaking out of the local prison or asylum every now and again during the week was normal, it was hard to be surprised by things related to such occurrences. Since, it even felt like someone was trying to blow up the place at least twice a month, and robberies were so common that it was a wonder that anyone had any fortune left to protect at all.

Though it did still make you curious about what’s going on. 

Obviously, it couldn't be any good, but it just seems too… quiet to be anyone that Gotham had already seen before. Seeing as the usual villains and whatnot always made some kind of mess, or made things as extravagant and entertaining as possible. Almost like a certain clown that loved to try and run circles around a certain bat.

Regardless of that, however, you were still more curious about why Dick — or any of the others, really — had bothered to seek you out at all. Sure, the first thing that came to mind was that they need you for something, rather that be for help or something else entirely, but that's only because it made the most sense to you. Why else would they try to find out where you live? You couldn't think of another reason. Though, again, maybe that was because they had ignored you for so long? Even then, you can't think of anything else. 

Besides help and such, nothing else made any logical sense to you. There is no other reason. There couldn't be, and if there is — you couldn't think of it. They couldn't just be here for you. They almost weren't capable of it. You're sure, since they have made it very clear a long time ago. You were just too naive and blind to see it at first, but now you did, and you don't plan on becoming blind to that again…

Nevertheless, you continue on your little path.

Now that Dick wasn't with you, your journey to the park was short, and much more peaceful and quiet. It was almost calm in an odd way, but you appreciated it all the same.

The park held that strange feeling of abandonment and emptiness that most of Gotham seemed to have tonight — thanks to whatever was going on — but you manage to ignore it for the most part. Making your way around the park, your pace was slower and your breath was a bit heavier. You felt like you were prolonging the inevitable, and such a feeling spawned so much dread that you almost choked on it. However, you manage, and instead try to find a good place to sit and wait for the time being.

Sure, it would be easy to leave and just go on with your night, but you did want to stay true to your word even if only a little. It's the least you could do, since this would be the last thing you'd ever do for any of them, anyway. 

Besides, you were better than them in that way — following through with what you said, instead of saying a ‘maybe’ that'll never come, or a ‘next time’ that'll never arrive. Always stuck to a tomorrow that was always just out of reach.

Your words held meaning, unlike theirs.

Moving on, you eventually found a good spot. It was closer to the center of the park, and the moon could be seen as clearly as it could be with all of the clouds passing by, and building up. The air had an odd moist and damp feeling to it, and it made you think that it might rain after all, seeing as you remember hearing something about it earlier in the day. Yet, that just gave you all the more reason to hope that this whole thing would be wrapped up soon. Though whether that happened with Dick not showing up, or him making good time and keeping things short and simple, you didn't care.

Even if you did hope that he just wouldn't show. For both his sake, and your own.

Settling down on a park bench off to the side of the path, you took a big breath, before letting it all out. You still don't have a good feeling about this, but you'd take all the little victories you could. Since, you managed to avoid going to the manor and clock tower by some miracle, and even got Dick to leave you alone for a little while. Even if a small part of yourself did wish that you had pissed him off enough for him to leave you alone, you wouldn't count on it. He seemed oddly stubborn about sticking around, or to at least keep you around him, and though it made you feel uncomfortable, it unfortunately meant that there was a chance that he'd actually show up again.

You'd pray if you had any faith left, but you don't. Not at the moment, and certainly not with that possibility hanging over your head, just waiting to drop and crush you under its weight. Though for now, you'd try to not think about it as you look around, taking in the dark scenery instead.

The darkness of the night shaded over the park in an ominous, beautiful way. With the trees looming over you, and their leaves providing more shade than necessary. As if trying to protect you from the moon's stare as much as they could. The clouds slowly crawled over the sky, waiting for the perfect opportunity to drop all they were carrying — and leave the burden for Gotham to hold. They covered what could be made out of the blank, pitch black void that was the night sky, with the moon trying its hardest to shine through. To take a glimpse of the chaos below, and judge you in its silence.

A loose breeze drifts by, causing you to shiver thanks to its added chill over the night's natural coolness. The sounds of nature were hardly audible, as if even the insects have been silenced by whatever is going on, and the only thing you could hear was that constant, sickening snapping and cracking of broken bones, and that popping from joints getting dislocated. Even if such noises were much fainter now, thanks to the spot you've chosen, they still managed to reach you here, and dominate all other noises that tried to make themselves known, with its echo.

You could only sympathize with their desperation to be heard, to be noticed — only for the violence to cover all of their efforts. Maybe you'd even pity them, but you already felt foolish over your emotions, and feeling sympathy over noises was silly enough. You have already made enough humorous and dumb choices tonight, so you'd at least try to not make another. Even if you bothering to actually wait here, instead of leaving right away, is dumb enough.

You don't know if it was hilarious or sad how many stupid choices you’re making in one night, and all because of the people you are trying to leave behind. People you were so sure would never bother to look for you or even give you a single thought, and yet here you are now. Waiting for one of them to show up – only because suddenly he couldn't leave you alone. Almost like he couldn't afford to, and now you couldn't help but debate over the humor and sadness of that.

Of course it had to be now, it had to be tonight, that one of them showed up - but you don't know what exactly you're expecting. After all, if one of them were to try and show their face to you despite everything, it would be at the worst time possible. It felt fitting in an odd way, so maybe it was only right that things went down like this. That life throw one of the biggest ‘fuck you's it could at you, during a time where you are trying to recover. To heal. To get better.

Of course he just had to show his face when you were done with him — with them, and their whole family. It had to be now, when you're trying to move on, did an effort have to be made. It couldn't be while you were in the manor - when you were trying to do the same.

… Maybe you should've let him bust open the door to your apartment after all, and just ran away while you still had the chance. 

Yet, as if knowing you were thinking of walking away while he still wasn't around, Dick finally appeared and made himself known with a little whistle.

You turn your head and face him, his appearance almost making you laugh, but you didn't have it in you to do so. Much too exhausted and fatigued to even try, and your feelings were too mixed up to even consider the thought. Though you did have to admit, he did look a little funny.

Dick almost looked out of breath, but he still manages a smile when you turn to look at him. The clothes he wore looked strangely baggy, and you could've sworn that you saw the smallest glimpses of various price tags that were tucked away sloppily. Which made it look like he really was in a rush, and… well, you didn't know how to feel about that. Yet, in that same moment, you caught the tiniest bit of his suit right under the shirt he wore. Further ‘hinting’ at the fact that Dick had been in such a hurry that he didn't actually bother to change, and instead opted to cover up his suit.

His mask was off, at least, and for a moment you wondered where he put it until you noticed him subtly stuffing something in his pocket. Which is funny as it is concerning.

Dick wore an oversized coat that he left open, with a collar shirt underneath that had two of the buttons unbuttoned, along with sweatpants and shoes that didn't quite look his size. All in all, he looked like a mess, but Wayne's look good in everything for a reason, you suppose.

“Made it just in time! I told you I would, didn't I?” Dick chuckles, still holding onto the coffee you had given him earlier with one hand. The smile on his face quickly grew into a playful smirk, and you didn't know if you should find it weird or oddly scary how much closer he seems to be to the side of him you've only seen at a distance before. The side you have seen at galas or with his family, occasionally. A side you didn't have any personal experience with until now, and the dread you felt from before only grew at that.

“Um, no, you didn't-” You try to point out, only for him to cut you off.

“Well, it probably just slipped my mind, but I'm here now!” He muses, and you can’t help but find his tone off putting considering how things ended off a few minutes ago. He both looks and sounds way too happy for someone who was so annoyed with you before. 

“I didn't keep you waiting, did I?” Dick steps closer, making his way over to you casually. Not a single trace of his previous demeanor could be found.

You can't help but move a little further away, and bite your tongue. You hoped he would've, that he did, but unfortunately he did make good time. Since, from the moment you sat down, Dick appeared only a minute after, and had it not been for his messy outfit, you would've thought that he had planned this whole thing out — down to the very last second.

“No…” You drag on, looking away once again, trying to hide the disappointment in your voice.

Yet, despite the implications of it, Dick couldn't help but find it… cute, in an odd way. Causing him to exhale softly, his smirk dying back down into a smile. Blue hues shining as they look down at you.

He moves to sit down on the bench — noticing a spot next to you, but deciding to sit beside you instead. Still remaining close, but not getting in your space entirely, since he felt like you both weren't at that point just yet. There was an armrest between the both of you, and he felt as if that'd be enough for now. Even if he did want to move closer, he decides that this was the least he could do for having been ignoring your discomfort and clear nervousness thus far. 

While he still couldn’t fully bring himself to acknowledge or accept it — since he still doesn't want to think about it — he at least wants to try and do this small thing for you.

Though, the space between you and him would never be big enough for you to be comfortable. Since just knowing he was around, and that you were in his space, already made you feel a certain way, but he didn't have to know that. Not that you would tell him, anyway.

Dick took this little opportunity to take a slow, long sip of his coffee. The drink not quite to his liking, but he wouldn't complain since you seem to like that little diner, and the last thing he wants is for your opinion of him to get worse, so he kept his mouth shut. Besides, it wasn't even that bad anyway, especially knowing that it came from a place that you enjoy going to.

Silence was quick to fall over the both of you again. Yet, this time, Dick didn't exactly have a problem with it.

Even if you weren't looking at him, he could still see that little twinkle in your eyes that the faint bits of moonlight were able to show and make clear. How your hair matched you just right, and the way you did it and took care of it completed your look even more. Along with how even the little things on your person said so much, yet so little, about who you are now. About who you have become after all this time. 

A sense of endearment and sentimentality suddenly washes over Dick, and he can't help but feel as if it were just yesterday that you were introduced to the whole family. Though he still couldn't quite describe the look in your eyes then, as there was an unmistakable hint of excitement and unfounded joy that lingered when you first met them all. When you first met him. 

You were such a little thing back then, and you have grown so much since. Dick still can't help but think about it even as he finally pulls the cup away from his lips, and sighs, content.

You were so small, and little. Your face round and youthful, hands soft and delicate - just like everything about you at the time. The world and the people in it were still so new to you, and you looked just about ready to explore it all. To see every little thing you could, and learn about everything that you found. ‘Wonder’ was the first word he thought of when he saw you that day, and looked at your expression. It was full of that child wonderment. 

Yet… look at you now. Grown, and significantly taller than you were before. Face matured and settled, but still did have a youthful look to it. He notes how your hands did seem to be a bit rougher, and instead of delicacy, he found a gentleness that was always there — but is more prominent now. That look of wonder gone, and now replaced with something more. Something complicated and complex in nature, and yet simple all the same. There's a sense of turmoil but… he couldn't look much deeper than that. He can't bring himself to.

Point is, you have clearly changed. 

Sure, he noted how you looked different and everything before, but now that same conclusion felt different in a strange way. Though maybe that was because he wasn't only looking at you now, but seeing you as well.

Dick doesn't just see the change in your clothes, and how your voice has changed its tempo and volume, but some other things as well. Maybe that's because he's able to connect some things he's learned about you over the course of the entire day, back to you and how you showed yourself now. How those details presented themselves in your appearance and mannerisms.

It’s a lot to take in, sure, but in this moment of silence - Dick found himself slowly absorbing all of this information, taking it all in and finding ways to love you through it. Even if the changes made a particular fact all the more clear — despite the time he has missed, he did genuinely love the person you have become. He does now, at least. 

Despite everything he has done to you, or lack thereof, you have managed so much on your own. Despite him and the family not being around when they could've, when they should've, you managed to pave your own path and face all the challenges it brought by yourself - from what Dick could tell anyway. Even if he wasn't fully aware of all you have gone through in his absence, and he knew that as well – you’re still here. You're sitting beside him, looking at the scenery of the park, coffee cup in hand, and just… living in this moment with him.

Dick didn't know when such small things made him feel so happy or content, but in this moment, with you, it's like all he could feel was happy and put together, in a weird way. He doesn't know how to describe it, but now that he's here with you, in your space and presence, he feels… whole. Complete. Like all the missing pieces he didn't even notice were gone, all fell into place when you were around. With you here with him, he feels the happiest he's been in a long while, and he couldn't even begin to explain why.

He's only really known you for a day, but it already felt like he's spent a lifetime with you.

“Hey… Y/n?” He spoke up, breaking the silence between the both of you, looking back at the coffee cup in his hands. “I just want to say that… I'm happy you're here, and that you let me see you.” He begins, slowly looking back at you, an easy but pleasant smile on his face. It was easily the most natural one he's shown you tonight, and his clear unannounced happiness, no matter how light, made the pit in your stomach grow deeper and wider.

Why is he looking at you like that? And why did it hurt to see it now? Why did it relight the fire in your chest, and make it burn - the flames barely tickling your chest from the inside? Why did you feel like this? What did you do to cause him to wear such a smile?

Why now? What was going on?

“I know we haven't talked much, or really hung out, but this… this is nice for what it's worth, and I'm happy that I get the chance to spend this time with you despite everything.” The small bits of moonlight shined in his eyes, almost making Dick appear better than he was. More friendly, charming, and brighter than you saw him as. You couldn't stand the sight. Your dread growing much too big for you to keep looking at him.

So, you look away. Hoping that Dick would get whatever kind of message you were trying to send - and yet, even if he saw it, he didn't bother to decipher it. Words tumbling out of his mouth before he could think them over, too deep in his own feelings to see yours. Though he doesn't seem to mind as he said the words that began to fill his heart, and let them out into the open air. The wind whisking them away, and shoving them into your ears.

“You… mean a lot to me, and I know that, again, we haven’t really done much together, or really spent the most time together either, but- you matter to me. You’re important to me, and I’m sorry that was never made clear before.” He blurts out, heart aching and swelling at his own words, but Dick just couldn’t help himself. He feels like he needs to say something, to say this, and he doesn't want to have to wait any longer to say it. Even if you don’t like him or saw him a certain way, he wants to at least say this. To tell you his truth - his new truth. A truth that is becoming more clear to him as the seconds pass. Seconds he spent with you. “I know that I’ve messed up- a lot, and I know that it isn’t just me that made things turn out like this, but I at least want to let you know that I do care about you. I just…” Dick ran a hand through his hair, pausing for a moment as countless words he wanted to say float around in his head, but he just didn't know how to say them. Or even say them in a way that would get you to understand, or at least hear him out.

He looks away for a moment before looking back at you. Hand dropping and folding around his cup once again. “I’m sorry, for everything. For missing your concerts and performances, and just- everything. I should’ve been there, and even if I was busy, that isn’t an excuse. I should’ve made time for you, I could’ve, and yet it just always slipped my mind and… I should’ve never done that to you. You didn’t- you don’t deserve to go through that, you didn’t have to, and yet you did, and I’m just.. so sorry that now is the time that I’m realizing this. You… you deserve so much more than what we gave you, and I’m sorry if that made you feel any less than what you are- because you are amazing, and wonderful, and bright-!”

“You’re.. you’re a lot of things, and I really couldn’t list them all since I’m still slowly seeing it all for myself. Though even then, we’d be here for a while… wouldn’t we?” Dick chuckles lightly, a tinge of endearment in his tone, with a hint of a softness that was slowly becoming more and more apparent as he went on. His expression softened even more, and yet all you could feel was dread and anger that grew with each sentence that fell out of his mouth.

Was he messing with you? Was Dick trying to make himself feel better about everything, or just mess you up even more? Maybe both?

Why was he saying all of this now? Why tonight? Why now of all times? His words… they couldn’t be true. They can’t be. If they were, if they are – then why did he wait so long? How come he didn’t realize anything sooner? Why couldn’t he realize it sooner? Why now? Why right this minute, when you were almost ready to let go?

Why is he trying to give you hope over a future, a dream, a wish you never thought would come true? That they, indirectly or not, made you believe would never be made into a reality? No matter how much you did, and sacrificed for them behind the scenes? Was he trying to trick you? Did he really believe that you’d allow yourself to become blind again? That you could actually take the little words that he’s saying to you at face value, after all this time? After all of your wasted effort?

Did he really think that he could salvage what little remained of your nonexistent relationship with him, with just a few words and soft smiles? That you would just suddenly be willing to let him back into your life, after you spent the last year or so just trying to make it so that once you left, you’d never have to turn back? After everything he and the others put you through?

You understood that they were busy. That protecting Gotham and Bludhaven were more important to them than you’d ever be. That they care more about their work and their own lives than they never will about anything you’d try to say to them - you understood that well. It was almost impossible not too with how long you’ve had to deal with it, and come to terms with everything over the few months you’ve given yourself to truly soak everything in and reflect. The one time you gave yourself a breather to process all that's happened over the years you wasted on them, and think about how you are going to move forward in your life. How you’re going to deal with the family moving forward, or if you’d ever bother to deal with them at all. Though, you're still in that process, and had yet to really think about what you’d do moving forward.

Yet, Dick just had to show up while you were in that process. He just had to show his face after so long, and do this to you. Torment you with his words, and cause further conflict inside of you that you don’t need. Causing more heartache and pain that you didn’t want, and yet he just had to keep going, he had to keep talking. He couldn’t just walk away again like he had all of those other times when you were fighting to spend time with him, to just mean something to him. Dick just had to show up, and lie to your face about this. He just had to finally notice you, and hurt you more.

“I’m… I’m just really glad I got to see you is all I’m trying to say, I guess. And that I missed you too, in all honesty.”

So he keeps going, it seems. He just has to say that, like you’d believe him. Like you’d truly think that he cared about you more than the criminals in Gotham did. Like he wasn’t just lying to your face in an attempt to try and hurt you more. To crush what little part of your heart you still had given to them, and destroy it entirely. 

Honestly, now it was like he's trying to get you to hate him. To rid of the memories where you used to look up to him, and really tried to see him as your older brother until the reality of it all crushed you. Until reality forced your eyes open, and made you realize the little you had, and the little he cared.

Your own anger was beginning to blind you, and your hatred grew within you - though you hardly found a part of yourself that cared anymore. 

Even if Dick’s words are true to him, they aren't to you, and that’s all you cared about. Since, as far as you know, they were never true until he suddenly felt bad, and this whole thing started.

However, you still try to remain civil. Just taking in a breath, and sighing before looking back at Dick. Exhaustion becoming more evident, anger and hatred beginning to bloom – but you manage to tuck it away for now. No matter how frustrated Dick makes you, you could keep your composer. You could keep yourself together, and by God would you try no matter how much you want to just get up and leave. No matter how much you want to think that he wasn’t worth the time or energy. At least, not anymore.

“Dick, just tell me why you’re here.” You say, getting straight to the point and seemingly completely ignoring what he said before. Not taking his words to heart, no matter how much they sting and add fuel to the flame growing in your chest. 

Dick looks at you confused, a little taken aback by your response, but just pushes it to the side. Only raising a brow, managing to keep up his smile, “What do you mean? I told you already, silly.” He chuckles a bit, his words already pinching at your skin.

“I’m here to see you.”

‘Bullshit.’ You immediately thought, but don’t say out loud. Not yet, anyway.

“It’s obvious that something’s going on, I mean- do you hear the sounds echoing throughout Gotham? Or, hell, how quiet it is besides said noises?” You ask, tone shifting with every word that spilled out of your mouth, undertone unclear, but Dick didn’t like it. “You don’t have to explain what’s going on, but please, just tell me how or if I can help so that we can both go on with our nights? I know you don’t have time for this. Both of us don’t.” 

Dick can only furrow his brows in response, his confusion growing the more you spoke, but also worried about the tone you’re using with him. A tone that was growing increasingly harsh.

“What are you talking about? I never said I needed your help with anything, and didn’t I already mention that the others are handling the situation?” Dick said, genuinely confused, and yet that only seems to make the flame in your chest burn brighter.

“Then what are you doing here? Why are we even talking right now if you don’t need anything from me?” You ask, voice rising in volume a bit before you bring it back down. The little stings Dick’s words left on your skin turning into a grip around your heart. 

“I’ve already told you, Y/n…. I just wanted to see you.” Dick said again, growing a little more worried now.

“Yes, but why? What made you want to see me so badly that you even went out of your way to find out where I live?” You couldn’t help but ask, frustration growing but so did your desperation. Over what, you don’t know, but all you knew was that you want this to be over. You want to go home. You want to be away from Dick. From them.

Even if your home probably wouldn’t feel as safe anymore now that they knew where it is, and you knew that too, but couldn't find it in yourself to care. Anywhere that wasn't in the immediate vicinity of Dick felt better than being here, with him at arm's length.

“I need a reason to see my younger sibling now? I can’t just come visit them?” Dick asks, still worried and confused, yes, but an odd tone of sarcasm seemed to develop under his tongue.

“After months of no contact? After all that’s happened?” You say as a meaningless, humorless laugh escapes you before your voice drops and cements itself, “Yes. Yes you do, because you’ve never visited me before. You’ve never gone out of your way like this, not even to see me in my own room. So why now? Why tonight? Why come see me?”

Your words stung Dick, and you can tell with how he flinches a bit at your words, if only for a brief moment. He even cringes a little, as if they have physically hurt him, but you didn’t react much. You want to know why, because it made no sense to you, and by God did you deserve an answer.

There is no reason why he should’ve come to see you, none. You aren’t related to him, and even if you are by law, he’s never treated you like family in the past - just someone else who lives in the manor, but over time you began to believe that he started to forget that too, with how he’d grow increasingly surprised by seeing you in person when he'd occasionally visit.

You meant nothing to him, last you checked. So what was so important that he and the others needed to find out where you live, and seek you out like this? What was going on?

From how you look at Dick, he can tell you wanted to know. That you want a ‘real’ answer, one that you’d accept, anyway. Along with the fact that you aren’t going to take your words back, finding them to be nothing less than true, and even if they are, they don’t hurt any less. Especially considering how far he’s come today. How much he’s seen, and how his view is beginning to change. How you were growing on him without even knowing it, making him realize that some of it isn’t even you to begin with. Though there wasn’t much he could do about that, not right now. Not with you getting worked up like this, and not with how he's beginning to hurt too.

The truth hurt, it almost always did. Never sparing anyone, and almost acting as a sword rather than weight. A dagger than another page, but paper cuts did exist for a reason – he supposes.

“I.. I know that it might seem hard to believe, considering everything, but that really is all there is to it.” Dick says, trying to explain as he clutches onto the coffee cup in his hands, “I just want to see you because I was worried, and I… I just wanted to make sure you were okay. That’s all.”

“Then what about the others? Why find out where I live? What’s with all the noise?” Your desperation was becoming a little clearer as you spoke quickly, the questions falling out of your mouth as your heart began to squeeze tightly. The smoke that the fire in your chest was creating, started to reach and fill your lungs little by little with each passing second.

“The others are busy taking care of the city, and how else am I supposed to see you? You weren’t answering any of my or Tim’s calls or texts. We…” Dick drags on a little before just sighing, looking dejected, “I was worried about you- I am worried about you. I thought something happened, and I had to know if something did. Is that so wrong? Can I not check on my younger siblings anymore?”

“That's not what I meant, and you know that.” You point out straight away, but did falter the slightest bit when he mentions how you were ignoring them trying to contact you earlier. However, you didn't back down. “And both of you just started contacting me today. I didn't have any time to answer either of you before you showed up at my door.”

“Really? You had absolutely no time at all to pick up the phone? Not even send a quick message, or even read our texts?”

“I was busy? And was doing something else, so I couldn't get to the phone right away.”

“For several hours? Y/n, you've got to be kidding me.” Dick chuckles out, obviously not believing you, which ticks you off even more.

“What, so I can't do other things? I have to be at your every beck and call, now?” You scoff, rolling your eyes. “None of you have ever contacted me first, so I'm sorry that I didn't have any time to respond to whatever you both had to say. I have my own life to deal with, you do know that, right?”

“That's not what I-” Dick cuts himself off, just letting out a sigh before speaking again after thinking over how to reword what he wants to say, “Look, just- what was so important that made it so you couldn't answer the phone?” He asks instead, searching your expression for something, and furrowing his brows when he couldn't find it.

“... That's none of your business.” You answer instead, narrowing your eyes at him a little. Whatever you did in your life, he didn't have to know. He doesn't have the right to know, not anymore. You may have been willing to offer him this one chance to ask something from you to help with whatever is going on, but that was all, and where your generosity ended. It wasn't a chance to reconnect, or to rebuild what never was, and still isn't. 

If there's anything that this whole situation has told you, it's that you shouldn't have tried in the first place - and that maybe, just maybe, you should've left sooner. That was clear to you now. 

“...” It's like Dick could tell things were getting worse this way. He didn't know what was causing it or how, but he could feel it. Especially with how you were growing increasingly upset, and how he was as well. 

So, he tried to settle down a little and just took a breath. At this rate, he could only dread how things would get, and so he at least tried to change the direction of things a bit. Yet, he still couldn't help himself either. Maybe he didn't deserve to know, but he did want to ask. 

“Look, just-” he tries to find the words to say, to not make this whole thing worse than it already is, and settles on a simpler question. One he figures you can handle, one he hopes does what he wants it to do. “Can you at least tell me why you keep ignoring me when I say that I'm here to see you? Or at least why you just… brush it off?” Dick manages to say, eyes never once leaving you, but for a different reason this time.

He just wants you to open up, but how could you do that when he kept you out for so long? When he locked that door so long ago, and forgot where he left the key? Leaving him to never know of the chair you left right under the handle.

“... What do you-”

“You know what I'm talking about, Y/n, just… please.” Dick almost pleads, which makes you uncomfortable. Causing you to press your lips into a thin line once again, “I don't want this to…” he doesn't want to say it outloud. He couldn't bring himself to. Especially when he doesn't want it to be true. To be made into reality.

“I just want to know, Y/n. So please, just tell me? Because I don't understand why you keep avoiding it, or just don't acknowledge it at all.” Dick says instead, which causes you to grow quiet in the process. 

“...”

You couldn't think of anything to say, just being able to look at him before glancing away and taking in a breath of your own. You couldn't bring yourself to answer the question because - what were you supposed to say? What are you supposed to say? The truth? Or make up a lie? Though even if you picked one or the other, would it be for yourself? Or for Dick?

You didn't know, and a special kind of uncertainty came with that, jabbing your gut and making the flame within you crackle harshly. You hate this. You hate this more than what their inaction did to you, and almost as much as the realization that it's because of them that you're in this position to begin with.

“Why do you think?” You begin, emotions and thoughts swarming in your head and squeezing your heart. You want to not care, to brush it all off as you have before, but only find yourself hurting despite everything. Why does your chest hurt so much? Why did it feel like something was pressing against it, threatening to pierce it? “Why do you think that I'm ‘ignoring’ it or just… dismiss it?”

Dick hates how you look away, and the swirl of emotion he saw in your eyes when you looked at him before. Which only made his own emotions grow like a heavy weight, threatening to fall on him. To crush him, and only leave the tiniest parts of himself behind. Parts that still hung onto that false hope he made himself.

He knew, or at least had an idea, but he ignored it. Dick wants to hear it from you, even if he doesn't know what he's hoping for with that. He knows of his faults, and yet not the entirety of them - at least, that was the impression he was getting from all of this.

He isn't blind, but there are only so many things he could let himself see before the ugliness of it all rears its head at him, and snarls. Before the quiet part that he refuses to glance at, becomes loud.

“I… I don't know,” Dick manages to say after a moment, still looking at you as he searches for something, anything that will point things in a different direction. Something that will give the little hope he has anything to cling on to.

Something he doesn't find.

He takes in another breath, “Can you please just… tell me? I do want to know, I really do- so just, please. Tell me why you keep ignoring what I'm saying?”

“I'm not-” You cut yourself off, speaking before you could come up with a response, the words tumbling out of your mouth quickly before you caught yourself and take in a slow, uneven breath. “I'm not ignoring what you're saying. I'm not, but- just…” You drag on before finally letting out a sigh. Some of the tension freeing itself from your body, but not enough for it to let you truly calm down or relax. 

“What do you expect me to do? To say?” You finally manage to voice it outloud, to ask as you look back at Dick briefly. With the moon trying its hardest to peek through the clouds as they begin to fill and crowd the sky. “You haven't checked up on me in all the years I was in the manor, and, hell, I doubt you even know where my room is-”

“I know where it is.”

“- and even if you do, that doesn't change what happened. Or, really, what didn't.” You narrow your eyes at Dick's sudden words, but don't comment on them as you continue, voice wavering slightly, “You've… never checked up on me before, or even asked me if I was okay- we barely even greeted each other, and I didn't see you around all that often. I didn't get to. So I'm sorry if it's hard for me to believe that you just suddenly care, or want to check up on me after all this time.” You say, still biting your tongue and holding yourself back from sharing more than you should. From giving more than you already have.

“...” Dick's lips press into a thin line before he goes to speak again, “I understand that, but… why can't that change now? Why can't I care about you now?” 

“It isn't about what you can and can't do, Dick. Nor what can be changed now or not, it's…” A quick, small groan escapes you as you try to gather the words you want to say, and finally let them out when you do, “it's what I'm used to, Dick. That's just how it is.”

Finally, dread made its way into Dick’s heart as well, “So… that's it? You're just ‘used to it’? And I can't change that?”

“I don’t know, can you?” You asked sarcastically in a dead tone, already tired of all of this, and yet the fire in your chest continues to burn ever so brightly. “You haven’t really done a good job of that thus far, if that's what you’re trying to do. I’ll say that much.” Your words hurt, you could tell right away. The way he looked at you said everything, but you didn’t try to look deeper than what presented itself on the surface. 

“This isn’t some kind of…. ‘reconnecting session’, stuff like that doesn’t really matter. I thought something serious- something important was going on, or had happened, that’s why I bothered with… all of this.” You point out and explain, only watching as the expression on Dick’s face morphed into something else. Something you couldn’t decipher, but didn’t like looking at. A face that made your stomach twist, with dread pouring out of every crevasse it could manage.

“And why would you think that? I don’t remember saying anything that would hint at that, and even then I would’ve said it outright.”

“You suddenly appeared at my door in the suit, and at some point was banging on it. How could I not think something was going on? Or that you didn’t need something from me? That something serious wasn’t happening? Especially when I don’t remember telling any of you where I live-”

“Okay, okay. I… I get it,” He didn’t, at least maybe not to the extent one would hope he would, but he didn’t want to argue. Not here, and not with you. Especially not when he was really beginning to see you. “But still… I want to change that. I want to make it up to you and fix things. Is that so bad?”

“...” You had no response to that, but even if you did, what could you say? You had imagined countless instances like this, but those situations weren’t real — this one was. In those scenarios, you always had something to say, rather it be good or bad, and you always knew what to do. Yet here, now that it was actually happening, you had nothing. You didn’t know what to do or say, and even if you did have some things you wanted to just let spill out, you kept them in. You didn’t want things to get worse either, but the more Dick talked, the harder that became.

Why couldn’t he just be the person from your thoughts and dreams? The person you always saw him as until now?

“I just…” Dick tries to gather his thoughts, not exactly liking your silence but trying to push on anyway. He finally had a chance, and he’d be damned to not take it. “I want to make things right, and yeah, maybe it's late- really, um, late, but I still want to try.” He manages to say, taking a small, quick breath before he continues, an easy smile trying to settle on his face.

“You deserve better, and I want to be better for you. Things may not be the same, and sure, it might be a bit awkward-” He chuckles slightly in between his words, “-but I think that we can… work it out if you just give it a try. Give me a chance-”

“But I did.” You manage to say, cutting Dick off. He has to fight for his smile to not falter immediately, unaware of how your heart pounded harshly in your chest, the fire it held growing and clawing at the bars of its cage that was your ribs and flesh. Scorching your lungs, and the smoke causing your throat to close, making it harder to breathe.

“... What?” Dick said, partially confused but still trying to at least seem optimistic. A weight of its own beginning to press down on him.

“... What do you think I did all of this time?” You ask, looking away for a moment, glancing up at the covered moon before looking back at Dick, “What do you think I did all of those years I spent at the manor? Before I decided to move out, and be on my own?” 

“...” Dick didn’t have an answer, not one he said right away, anyway. Not one that wouldn’t make him look bad, but he didn’t know what was worse. Staying quiet when he knew a part of it, or saying the part he knew and risk being wrong, revealing how he still didn’t know the full picture despite everything. Despite getting a glance into a life he knew he wasn’t involved in, and feeling more guilty all the while.

However, you decide that his small bit of silence was enough of an answer, and just as Dick opened his mouth to say something, you spoke again. “Most of my time in the manor I’ve spent trying to give you chances- to give the others a chance. Trying to give opportunities to just do something, try anything, and… well,” You look away fully this time, caressing the coffee cup in your hand, it’s dying warm doing little to help you, causing you to draw your attention to the shaded greenery of the park instead.

“We both know how that turned out.”

If your words didn’t hurt him before, they definitely did now. Even as Dick fought to keep that smile of his up, it was pointless. You were right, and he knew that. Even if he didn’t know the true extent of your words, he was at least aware of the times where you’d try to get them to see you perform, to hear your songs and listen to your music that had gotten you this far. He knew that much, and yet he still couldn’t help but try. He wants to mean more to you, to do what he hasn’t done up until this point, to truly be your older brother, to be your family - despite how long he’s been unable to do that.

“I… I know, and I’m sorry.” Dick could only say that much, even if it did little in the long run, and a part of himself could tell that his words only made whatever you were feeling worse as you inched away from him, the sight of the small action breaking his heart even more.

“Maybe that doesn’t mean much, but it’s true. I’m just… sorry that things turned out this way. That we- that I never noticed how hard you were trying until now, and even if it is late, I want to be honest and say that I’m sorry.” He adds, finally managing to look away as well as he looked down at the cup in his hands, thoughts swarming and eating away at his heart. Even if they were going too fast for him to process them all, they hurt him all the same and caused his worry to grow. “I’m sorry for everything, for never noticing what was going on or the extent of it, or appreciating the effort you tried to put in for our attention, for just not… being around. You deserve better- and I want to give that. I want to give you want you deserve and finally be-”

“Stop.” You said under your breath, voice wavering as you take in a shaky breath. Yet, even as it falls upon deaf ears, and Dick couldn’t make out exactly what you said, he still pauses for a moment before speaking again.

“... I just want to fix things, Y/n.” Dick says instead, but it doesn’t make you feel any better, nothing does. 

“You mean a lot to me.” You just want him to stop. 

“And maybe that’s… weird to hear with everything that’s happened. But it is true, and I’m sorry I never made that clear before.” You want him to stop lying to you, to stop trying to make you feel better. You’ve been doing fine on your own without him, without them, and so the only thing you wanted now was for Dick to stop and leave. To act like he had before, and go back to ignoring you.

“So… let’s change that, okay? I… I want to spend more time with you.” You want him to shut up. You want it so bad that it hurts to hear him talk as he goes on and on. His voice ringing in your ears to a point you’re convinced that they’ll bleed if this continues on for any longer. If he continues to talk for any longer. 

“I’m being honest, I really want to try and be your-”

“Stop… please, just- just stop.” You manage to say, voice small and wavering as you try to take in another breath. You want to be unbothered, unhurt, painless, and numb, but you can’t and you don’t know why. You thought you had gotten used to this, and you had, but to hear that - to hear the words you’ve wanted to hear for so many years - that hurt more than anything else. The pain was indescribable, and its result only made that fire grow, the flames scratching at your chest even harder, and your heart bleeding as a result.

Suddenly, all the progress you’ve made over all the months you’ve been away feel useless now. Reduced to nothing in Dick’s presence as his words stripped down your walls in the most violent, volatile ways possible.

Once upon a time, you fought to have a single conversation with him that lasted more than just a few short exchanges, and now you’d do anything to have that back. For him to go back to the Dick you grew up with, the one you fought to even have to look at you for more than a few seconds.

“You can’t do this to me.” You said without thinking, voice weak and shaky as you scramble to keep yourself together, to hold back tears that you refuse to spill – refusing to shed any more over them. Refusing to let all of your progress go to waste just like that.

You were happy, you have been happy these past few months, and you refuse for that to be taken away from you.

“What? Y/n, what do you mean-” Dick tries to speak, but you don’t give him the luxury, not after this. Not after what he’s been doing to you.

“You can’t do this to me,” You repeat, trying to breathe and fight past the smoke building in your lungs, nearly gasping for air as your teeth begin to grind, “you can’t- you just can’t. So stop… please just..” You try to take in another breath, no matter how small it is or strangled it feels.

“Just. Stop.”

“...” It’s like no matter what Dick tries to do, things end up becoming worse, and he hates that he doesn’t know why. He can't understand why. 

Clearly he’s hurting you, he could see that no matter how much he doesn’t want to, but he doesn’t know what he’s saying that’s hurting you. He doesn’t know what he’s doing that’s causing you to become so upset. 

After all, don’t you want this? Don’t you want him to try? For your efforts to be reciprocated? Don’t you want to be family too? For him to try and be what he’s supposed to have been all of this time? Don’t you want him to try and be your big brother? 

You couldn’t have given up yet, right? There was no way you could have. You couldn’t have given up after all you have done, after all the awards and such he saw that you’ve earned over the years – awards that were still in your room. You couldn’t have given up. That's impossible, there’s no way. No one would throw all of that away, right? No one would do all that you have, only to just put it all behind them - not anyone that Dick could think of at the moment.

… He hated how he thought of it anyway. How the thought creeped into his mind, and remained there. Letting his dread and worry grow as reality began to sneak its way into his brain. 

Dick doesn’t want to think about it – let along consider the idea, but this isn’t about him. This isn’t about what he thinks or feels.

This is about you, and despite his words, he hates that he had forgotten that already.

“Y/n,” He calls out to you softly, really trying this time, and you hate that detail with all of your heart, “can you just please tell me what’s wrong?” Dick’s words make you physically pause, even causing your rushing thoughts to come to a halt. They repeat in your head once more, and you can only think one thing.

Is he seriously asking you that?

“I know that you’re upset, but I want to work through this with you. So, just tell me so I can help, okay-?”

“Stop- God, just please stop, Dick.” You manage to say, already getting slightly choked up before you manage to shakily exhale, trying your hardest to keep it together as your heart squeezes and your chest tightens. You can’t bring yourself to look at Dick, but your teeth grind as you scramble to keep the flames eating up your body from the inside, trapped and hidden away.

“You can’t do this to me,” You say more desperately than you wanted to, a few tears developing that you fight back violently to keep them from spilling, your own teeth getting crushed and feel as if they were beginning to chip and break with how hard they’re grinding against each other. “You can’t- you can’t-” You struggle to get the words out, nearly gasping for air as that sickening, thick smoke threatens to escape your lungs.

“You can’t do this to me, you can’t give me hope.” You finally say, voice straining as your breath trembles. When you finally do look at Dick, neither of your expressions are good ones. Both filled with mixes of emotions, but his was more deep and almost controlled, while yours was frantic and ever changing.

“... What?”

“After all of this time, after everything- everything I’ve been put through. Everything I’ve been trying to move on from-” You struggle to breathe momentarily, but manage to get yet another gasp of air before continuing, “you can’t just try and give me hope like that. You can’t. You just- can’t.”

Now it’s Dick’s turn to pause as he processes what you said, each word making the weight in his chest sink deeper and deeper until it reaches his stomach. The very thing he seems to dread is becoming more real with every minute that passes and he hates that more than anything. He wants to ignore it, to push past it, but how can he do that when it’s right in front of him? How can he do that when something worse could be laying underneath everything?

He doesn’t want to think about it, and so he doesn’t and tries to tuck it away as he goes on to say, “But… why? Why can’t I give that to you? Why can’t I try to help you?”

“Dick, please, for the love of god just-” You want to say it, you really do, but manage to hold yourself back with the little self control you have, and simply just take in the biggest breath you can manage, and sigh just as deeply. “Nevermind, and just- you know what? We’re… we’re done here.” You say instead. Placing your coffee cup on the bench, not even caring that you barely finished the drink, and move to stand up.

“What? Wait- what?” Dick asks, sitting up and tensing when you stand, but not making a move just yet, even if it was clear that he’d do something. What, you don’t know, but you didn’t notice anyway as you were too focused on yourself and getting out of this situation.

“We’re done here, what else do I have to say?” You don’t look back at Dick, instead continue to try and steady your breath. Trying to calm yourself down, and finally do something to quell the burning flames inside your chest, “This isn’t going anywhere, and we aren’t discussing anything important, so… let’s call it here. I’m leaving.” You say outright, being blunt this time as you make a move to step away-

Only to be stopped when Dick suddenly grabs your wrist, his grasp a touch too tight.

“Hold on- who said you get to decide that?” Dick asks, having sprung up to grab you as swiftly and quickly as he did, a flash of panic showing on his face before he pushed it aside and swallowed his nerves. He tries to manage another smile, even if it doesn’t reach his eyes yet again, “Let’s just talk about this, okay? There’s no need to overreact.”

“Overreact…?” You glance back at him, physically feeling as all of your previous progress to calm yourself was quickly diminishing, the fire only roaring to life at Dick’s words, and it’s like he could feel it too with how his smile faltered the smallest bit before he tried to pick it up again.

“Okay- maybe not overreact, but we can still talk about this… can’t we?” He says instead, as if realizing his mistake once you point it out. Scrambling for something, anything.

You don’t say anything right away, your chest only hurting even more, “And talk about what, exactly?” You ask, just barely being able to hear the clouds overhead groan in displeasure, “What is there to talk about? We have nothing to discuss, and so we should just end things here.”

An airy laugh escapes Dick, almost as he can’t believe what you’re saying, and yet he continues to stare at you. All he does is raise a brow, his heart pounding as that weight in his stomach drops further, “About… everything?” He says, as if a little unsure of how to word it, but keeps going anyway, “About the family, about us, about you- everything! What isn’t there to talk about?” He counters, furrowing his brows a little.

He knows you want to leave, but he can’t bring himself to let you go. Not when he doesn’t know when he’ll have this chance again. Not when he’s so close – but to what, he doesn’t know anymore. All he knows is that it deals with you, and that’s enough for him.

“... But there isn’t anything important to talk about.” You point out as if it was obvious, raising a brow of your own as you look back at Dick, ignoring how the longer Dick held onto your wrist, the heavier your dread became. Nearly making it impossible to breathe despite how you were trying to act now,  “Again, I even bothered to do any of this because I thought something was going on or that you needed something from me, and I turned out to be wrong, so there’s no other reason for me to be here.” You try to be logical, or seem that way, anyway. You try to give whatever bullshit reason you can, saying anything that you hope would just get Dick away from you and just let you go.

“...” Dick hated your words with a burning passion he didn’t even know he was capable of feeling, and the breathy laugh of disbelief that escaped him only furthered his own change of heart, “So I’m not important to you? Our family isn’t important to you? Because of everything that’s happened? So our effort to change everything isn’t important to you? It matters that little to you now that you’ve lived on your own for… what, a few months?”

“What are you talking about? You’re asking me that as if you know me, and- news flash, you don’t. So get a hold of yourself- and let me go already!” You yank your wrist away from Dick’s grasp, pulling it back towards you harshly.

The moment your wrist leaves his grasp, his hand twitches, but he manages to hold himself back and just let his hand fold into a fist as it falls back to his side. His eyes pinned on you once again, never leaving you, “Why can’t I get to know you now? Why can’t that change, Y/n?” He asks, his own tone changing without him noticing, making it sharper than he meant it to be, “Why can’t you just let me in?”

The visceral hatred those words spawn in you is hotter than words can describe, and felt as if it was burning right through your chest, melting your muscles and organs down to nothing. You not only struggled to breathe, but it hurt to even take in the smallest breath. “‘Why’…? You’re asking me, ‘why’?” A small, airy, pathetic laugh escapes you, a look of disbelief clear on your face.

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe it’s because of the years that have passed? That every attempt I’ve made to do what you’re asking me right now- was ignored until I didn’t try anymore? Until I go off and try to actually live my life, that you ask for me to let you in? For things to change?” You almost spat out, barely managing to take in a steady breath, “I don’t know, Dick. I don’t know what you want me to say.”

Dick could barely pull himself together. Everything was falling apart, and even if he could see that, he could barely get a grasp on his own emotions that he was failing to calm down. He wants you to understand, and he wants to understand you too, but god was everything making it so hard. He just couldn’t understand why you were being so stubborn about this, and why you wouldn’t just hear him out. 

So, in the midst of his own frustration, he tsked and spoke without thinking.

“I haven’t done anything to you! Why are you acting like this?” The moment those words left Dick, his eyes widened and he scrambled to recover, “Wait, I didn’t mean-”

“Isn’t that the point?” You cut Dick off, the smoke finally escaping your lungs as you furrowed your brows, chest tightening as more unwanted tears began to build, “That you did nothing? That you- and everyone else didn’t do a goddamn thing?”

“You try to act like I owe you something. Like I owe you this. Like I owe you my time, but you know what? You really don’t, because back then? I clearly didn’t deserve yours. I wasn’t worth your time, and now, years later, you think that I owe you mine? That you can just say whatever the hell you want to my face, because I dared to try and be respectful and civil and do all of this shit for you?” There was no holding back anymore, not when Dick dared to say something like that to your face when you’ve been trying so hard to act calm and civil around him. To give him a chance to say his piece and leave.

The one time you tried to do something for them, for him, after months of being away from all of them, and he dared to say something like that to you?

“Then think again. Because unlike before, I have some god damn self respect and won’t stand for your bullshit anymore.” You spat out as the sky above growled even louder, “You don’t get to say that to me, Grayson.”

Yet, despite your words, a single measly tear manages to slip past your defenses and slowly, painstakingly roll down your cheek. The clouds above seem to have taken that as some sort of sign, as a few small drops of water fell from the sky and hit the pavement under your feet.

Dick pauses after that, if only for a moment as he looks over your expression before sighing. “Okay- fine, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that… but,” he took a short breath before saying, “that still doesn’t answer my question, Y/n.”

“...” All you could do was stare at him. Another pathetic, airy laugh escaping you all the while. He really was unbelievable.

“Which one? The one where you asked why things can’t change? Why I won’t ‘let you in’? Or why I’m ‘acting like this’?” Dick clenches his hands into fists, squeezing them before he lets go.

“Why can’t things change, why can’t the relationship between us change?” You hate the tone he used and how the look he gave you expressed and showed more than words could describe. A certain desperation in his eyes that you wish didn’t exist, that you didn’t notice.

“You never showed me that it could change. That it would always stay the same as it has for the past few years-”

“But why does back then matter? Why can’t we focus on now? On this?” He gestured between the two of you, “Can’t we just- I don’t know… move on from that?” You didn’t know if you wanted to laugh, or actually allow yourself to cry, especially when a few more raindrops fell from the sky. He couldn’t be serious, could he? Did Dick actually just say that, and to you of all people?

“Move on?” You say, a few more tears spilling despite your efforts to stop them, their touch burning your skin and sinking into it like acid, “You want me to move on from that? Move on from the years of my life that you weren’t a part of? To just forget all that’s happened?”

“You don’t have to forget… maybe just, push it aside so that we can work on this! On us…” Dick says, dragging on a little before he takes in another quick breath, “Is that so bad? Don’t you want to be family-?”

“You don’t get to say that to me.” You immediately cut him off the moment Dick even tries to mention family again, “You don’t get to say what I want or what I have to do- after everything I’ve done for you! For the others-! You don’t get to say that to me anymore!”

“Y/n, please, just calm down-”

“No! You don’t get to do this to me! To say all of this shit to my face-” You struggle to speak, your words catching in your throat and nearly choking you, but you manage to continue. To continue to say your part, and finally say the words your heart has been longing to say, to give yourself this much, to finally feel this out, “Do you even know how much I’ve done for you- all of you? How much time I spent doing all of these things I thought you guys liked just so that I had a chance to hold a conversation with any of you? To just mean something? To actually be part of the family, only for no one to show up-?”

“No one asked you to do those things! No one asked you to do anything!” Dick snaps, but immediately tries to reel it back, “I understand that things didn’t work out before, but I’m here now, aren’t I?”

Your brows furrow even more, and your teeth grind so hard that it feels like they’re chipping away, “No one had to ask! Hell- none of you ended up caring anyway! It was a waste!” You shout, voice raising the more you talked, tears mixing with the drizzling rain, “It was for you- I did everything I could think of to just talk to you, and now you want me to do more for you? After everything I’ve already done? After all the effort that was put to waste because of you?” At this rate, you knew you weren’t talking to just Dick anymore. Instead, he acted as an extension, in your mind. An extension to something bigger, something greater than himself. Something more than he was.

Dick falters, but just sighs again, “No one told you to do all of that,Y/n]. You didn’t have to do anything but just try to-”

“Try to what, Grayson? Try to what?” You cut him off, eyes swirling with untold emotion as your gaze pierces into him, “Go on, tell me what else I had to do. What I should’ve done.”

“...” Dick looks at you for a moment before speaking again with a small huff, “You could’ve tried a different approach, or maybe, talked to us?”

“...” You don’t know what you want to do more; try to strangle Dick, cry harder, or leave again after trying to kill him. “You did not just say that.” You manage to laugh out, but it’s broken and far from genuine. The humor in it long gone, and all that was left was a sickening, uncomfortable emptiness where it once remained. 

“Well, I’m just saying-”

“You did not just say that shit to me when you’ve been the one shooting down every conversation I’ve tried to have with you. You- the person who’s supposed to be the ‘family man’, and we’ve barely even talked. And let me tell you now, I’m not the one who hasn’t been trying to talk or avoiding it.” A pained smile crept up your face as you laughed breathlessly in between your words once more. Not even caring anymore as you let the fire burst from your chest, and have its ashes and smoke spill out of you.

Dick narrows his eyes and furrows his brows a bit, “‘Avoiding it’? What the hell are you talking about? I haven’t been avoiding you-”

“Then please explain where the hell you’ve been all of my life until now? Why you could never follow through with what you’d always tell me? Why you come to me now, when I gave you years to do or say anything?”

“I… I was busy, okay? You know that,” He tried to lighten his tone with a chuckle but it did little to help, and only showed his own strain, “I don’t always have time to come to Gotham-”

“But you make the time to do it anyway. You make time to visit, especially when it comes to Damian.” When Dick falls silent again for a moment, you take in a shaky breath and sniffle slightly, feeling awful in every sense of the word, “I guess I just wasn’t worth it, right? I wasn’t worthy of your oh so precious time, but everyone else was. Something else was.” Your expression darkens slightly as your strained smile drops completely.

“There’s always something else, right? Something else to do, someone else to see. You could make time, alright, but just couldn’t for me.”

“That’s not what I’m saying, Y/n.”

“Then please, enlighten me, what are you saying, Grayson?” Dick hates every time you say that, every time you refer to him by his last name. It feels like there's a deeper meaning to it that he refuses to see, and just hearing you call him that instead of anything else only forces him to remember that. To remind him of his own faults, both past and present.

Maybe he'd wonder how he keeps messing things up or why he keeps saying everything besides what he actually wants to say, but he's too deep in his own feelings to even think about that. Even if the answer laid within the action itself.

“Saving the city- having to look after Bludhaven and Gotham sometimes, and even the world on occasion- doesn't really give anyone a lot of time to do certain things. You know I'm not over all the time, and that I'm not always… y'know.”

“Dick Grayson?”

“Yeah! And just…” he took a breath before sighing once again, “All I'm saying is that a different approach could've been taken.” You hate how every word he said only seemed to validate concerns you had in the past. Thoughts that still liked to linger every now and then when you caught yourself still thinking about what could've been, and if certain things happened, would that really change anything?

It's funny that only now were you truly beginning to think otherwise.

“So… what?” You say in a dry voice, “Are you saying that I should’ve been just like you? Just like the others- and give up my dream, what I wanted to do- give up my passion, because at least then I would be able to talk to you? Because I would have a higher chance of even seeing you?”

“That's not what I mean, Y/n, and you know that-”

“No. No I don't. I don't know that, and honestly? I have no idea what the hell you’re even trying to tell me right now besides that I should’ve tried harder. That I didn't do enough, because clearly- spending all of my time trying to do things for you, to accommodate for the whole fucking family that couldn't even stand for me to be in their presence for even a few seconds-” You took a shaky breath, more tears spilling out and escaping you, more falling than you would've liked, “that's not enough. Wasting my life away and trying to do everything I could to the point where it put my health at risk- that wasn't enough. I should’ve just dropped everything and followed everyone else instead of trying to find an alternative, because there was no alternative, right? Is that what you're trying to say?”

For once, Dick was speechless and had nothing to say, and his silence only made you hurt more. It's like you were waiting for what felt like the inevitable.

“What else am I supposed to do, huh? What else haven't I done? Is nothing else good enough for you? Is that really the only way I could've been with you? To see you, to actually talk with you and all the others? To be part of the family? Is that what it would've taken?” You're nearly gasping for air at this rate, with every word you say only carving deeper into your heart, and getting harder to say as you struggle to voice them aloud. Nearly choking on both your words and tears, and yet you push on.

“Did I really have to give up on my passion- my dreams to have a better chance to be something to you?”

“Y/n, that's not what I mean. Doing it wouldn't have gotten in the way-”

“You know that's bullshit! You act like the line of work you do doesn't take over your life! Like you don't think about it everyday- like you aren't constantly in danger!” At this point you're shouting and you barely even realize it, tears flowing freely now as they burn into your cheeks and crash down on the pavement below, “Is it so bad that I don't want that? That I don't want to put my life at risk? That I don't want to live your life?!”

“Maybe you enjoy that. Maybe you like that chaos and constantly putting your life on the line- but some people don't! Maybe you're made for that kind of life, but I'm not! I want to live my own life without having to be even more worried about my own well-being and safety!”

“Y/n, please- calm down! I don't want to fight, I-” Dick took a quick breath, his own heart squeezing as he tries to remain stable, to remain calm. Even if it felt like he was watching his whole world crumble before him, each tear you shed stabbing into him, and every word that spilled out just twisted the knives as they dug deeper into his chest and body. “I understand what you mean, but you have to realize-”

“Realize what? That everything I did was for nothing?” Thinking it was one thing, but saying it out loud was another. The words weighed heavy on your tongue, and the more you tried to say them the more choked up you became. “That all of my effort was in vain, and I should’ve given up while I was ahead? Because that's the impression I'm getting right now-”

“That's not what I meant, Y/n. I… I didn't mean it like that.”

“But how else could you have possibly meant it? How else am I supposed to interpret that?” You laughed again, but it was just as sad and pathetic as the last, “You can't expect me to just know these things, Grayson, especially considering everything and just-” You felt like you were going to tear your hair out, like you were going to collapse and truly break. Yet you managed to stand, and speak again no matter how weak your voice is.

“You were never there for me, none of you were.” Your hands are shaking and your face burns, voice cracking in every way possible, and you hate this feeling. Yet above all else, you hate how he made you feel like this, “I could show up at the manor, bloodied and bruised, and no one- no one would notice or bat an eye. I could be wearing a cast and have crutches, and yet not a single person besides Alfred would see it or comment on it. I could be at the hospital and no one would show up, not one of you-”

“Wait… what-?” Dick tried to speak, but you wouldn’t let him, you couldn’t.

“You were never there when I needed you. You never checked up on me, you barely even noticed me-” again, you suck in another breath, barely able to take it in, “do you know what I’ve had to deal with on my own? How much it cost me? How much it hurt me-?”

“Wait, wait- hold on! You’ve been hurt?” Dick managed to cut you off, “I… I never heard about this.”

“Of course you haven't!” You couldn't help but laugh, more tears spilling and leaving scars on your face with how badly they burned into your skin, “You hardly even noticed, how can you expect to hear about it?”

“You didn't tell me- you didn't tell anyone! How- how am I supposed to know about these things when you won't even tell anyone? When you won't tell me?” Dick can feel himself begin to tear up, but he keeps it all down. He was frustrated, and even if it wasn't directed towards you, he couldn't keep his big mouth shut. Even if by the looks of things - you couldn't either, even if that was for a different reason.

Maybe you both were one in the same, but different in some ways. Dick would feel stupid if he noticed it, but of course he couldn't — not at the moment. Not with how things are going.

If only he noticed that sooner. If only he had done a lot of things sooner – then both of you wouldn't be in this position. You wouldn't be in this position.

Yet, he couldn't help himself. Both of you couldn't, in a way.

“I can't read your mind, Y/n! I'm not even at the manor half the time- how am I supposed to notice? You can't just expect me to suddenly know-”

“But you visit enough for the others? For any one of them you'd come rushing over, especially if it was for Damian-”

“At least he tells me when he gets hurt!”

“Are we talking about the same kid right now? God, and here I thought that he was your favorite.”

“‘Favorite’?” Dick chuckled out humorlessly, feeling something in him break at your words. “I don't have any favorites-”

“That is such bullshit, Grayson, and you fucking know that.” You couldn't help but sneer, everything you tried to keep inside finally rearing its ugly head as the lid you tried to put on your emotions flew off, leaving you feeling nothing but unapologetic rage. “You play favorites all the time, but I wouldn't know that, would I? I'm probably your least-”

“Don't say that. You're not. You never were.”

“Right! Yeah, you're right. After all, I'm not even on the list, am I? How can I be the least when you barely even acknowledge me-?”

“I didn't-” Dick just cuts himself off, sighing before he continues, not being able to stop the scoff that slips past, “I didn't mean it like that. You're important to me, Y/n, how many times do I have to say that? It's like you're trying to put words in my mouth at this rate.”

“Well, excuse me for not believing you considering that, oh, I don't know, I've been ignored by you for years? That-”

“‘Ignored’? I haven’t been ignoring you, no one has-”

“Really? Are you really trying to say that now-?”

“I understand that you're frustrated, okay? That you have all the reason to be mad- but no one has ignored you. I haven't ignored you-”

“BULLSHIT! That is bull-SHIT!” You scream before you even notice the words had left your mouth in the first place, “You would have said that before it that was the case! And even then- how the hell do you explain this entire shit show? How do you even dare to try and explain where the fuck ANY of you have been?! Because people can only be so ignorant and stupid until others begin to think it's intentional and you're doing it on god-damn purpose-!” Broken, harsh chuckles escape you - slipping in between your piercing words, ones so rough and dry that it scratches your throat just to let them out. The disbelief was heavy in each and every one of them, utterly devoid of any humor, and yet they were so unbelievably empty simultaneously.

You could feel your heart breaking even more, but you weren't the only one. Not that it mattered, as with each piece that was chipped off, you could only register the little sounds of you coming apart. Everything else was muffled, and almost completely blocked out. With your only focus being on him, on them.

“Just because something looks a certain way, doesn't mean that it's really like that. I told you, it isn't that easy. Like I said before- I haven't been avoiding you, let alone ignoring you! I wasn't trying to do anything like that-”

“It doesn't matter what you tried! What you're trying to do! Don't you see? What matters is what it felt like to me-”

“But you won’t let me change that! You won't let me try and change things- it’s like you want it to remain the same-!”

“YOU DON'T GET TO SAY WHAT I WANT! NOT AFTER THIS- NOT AFTER EVERYTHING! You don’t get to say shit like that- you don't know me! You don't know what I've been through-! So stop talking like you understand me!”

“But you won't let me in! You won't give me the chance to understand! How can I expect to know anything when you're giving me nothing to work with?!”

“How about you take a fucking hint, Grayson. Can't you read the room?! You're a cop for crying out loud! And was trained by the best detective the world has to offer- so it's not my fault you're acting like you're stupid!”

“You're not another case, Y/n! You're family, you’re my sibling! Not something that needs to be solved! Is it really so hard to just tell me anything and not push me away when I'm right here?!”

Your words catch in your throat momentarily, but you try to push past that and force something out, not caring if it was made of broken glass or venom. Yet, just as you go to speak, and the first letter escapes your lips – Dick finally breaks too.

“SHUT UP! Just Shut. Up. And ACTUALLY listen to me for one second! Please! For the love of-” Dick can't help but scoff, running a hand down his face, and covering his mouth with it.  Looking away as he does so, brows furrowing. 

He wants to say something, think of anything that he wants you to hear and understand clearly - but nothing comes to mind. Nothing you'd truly hear him out on, anyway. Nothing he's already mentioned to you. Nothing that would make this better. Even as he goes to try and say something, all that comes out is a mess of half finished words that he can't make comprehensible, especially not in a way that'll have you listen to him where you won't try to bite at him again.

So, he falls silent. You both do.

Your eyes widening at the sudden shout, before your gaze hardens and you glare at Dick through your tears and agony. His silence makes you angrier, but his loud response does shut you up momentarily.

“Well– fine, if you want me to be quiet so badly, then I'm leaving.” You manage to say after a moment, voice wavering and becoming weaker — now spent thanks to how you've been using it up until this point.

Still, your words immediately snap Dick out of whatever trance he was in, and cause his head to snap back in your direction, with his eyes locking onto you once again – though they widen a little before he tries to calm down, and take in one last breath. He scrambles to say anything, especially as he sees you turn to leave, and see your words through.

“W-wait, hold on, I-” he presses his lips into a thin line, thinking briefly before continuing, “Can I at least walk you home? It isn't safe-”

You pause in your movements, “No. Just-” you don't look back, you can't bring yourself to, but you do just barely glance over your shoulder – though not enough to actually see him again. Dick can't see your eyes anymore, but he can still see the tears streaming down your face. “Just leave me alone. All of you.”

Dick tries to reach out, to stop you one last time – but he hesitates, and just lets his hand fall back to his side. Instead, opting to watch you leave while he stands there, left hurt and alone. His eyes eventually find and land on the coffee you had left behind on the bench, and he finds himself staring at that once you're out of sight.

He has to hold back from running after you, and following - if only to just make sure that you'd reach your apartment in one piece - but he manages. It's the least he could do, after all, and besides, he doubts he'd be able to do that without making you hate him even more. He's gathered as much from all of this, and really - from the looks of things, he had a lot more to consider than he had originally thought. All of them did.

… It's only as you walk away and the distance between you and Dick grows bigger, with both of your words beginning to settle - that you both notice the clouds once light cries have turned into ugly sobs, with each tear being shed heavier than the last, thunder roaring and echoing in the distance, lightning striking the earth with a deafening clap. It was only then that both of you even noticed that the light drizzle from before had turned into pouring rain, and that there was more than just the two of you in the world. Something that felt heavier than it should’ve, but felt appropriate at the same time.

Regardless, you continue to walk away, and once again, never look back as you commit to your decision no matter what may happen afterwards, or the consequences that may follow. Just like that one day back in the manor, you move on and go on with your choice, just knowing what you want in that moment and seeing no reason to deny yourself — especially when you want the same thing you wanted that night, when you just want to get away. You don’t know what happened tonight, but all you knew is that you didn’t want to be a part of it anymore, so you just left, and maybe you would’ve felt a little grateful that Dick let you go if you had noticed to begin with – since your mind was more focused on just putting as much distance between you and him as possible.

Your phone vibrates in your pocket, and it’s only then that you remember that you still had it on you – not that you knew why you’d leave it anywhere or forget it, but it’s something you noticed nonetheless. You fish it out of your pocket as you walk, and wipe some of your tears away with the back of your hand, sniffling lightly as you check the notification. Jessica had left you a voicemail – several, actually. You couldn’t imagine why, but you didn’t try very hard to think of a reason, and instead just opened your phone to listen to it.

[“Hey, hun’, it’s been a while, you okay? If you don’t call in the next twelve hours or so then I’m calling the police- even if most of them are useless as hell, I know more of them will look, since they know who you are and all that. But I swear if that asshole did anything to you then he’s got another thing coming, and I know you don’t like to fight, but please, for the love of god, just sucker punch that creep in the face if you have to. He looks like he could use one, and an extra hard one at that.” She takes a moment to sigh, clearly frustrated - which her tone made very clear - but you could sense a little worry, “But, seriously. Just get back to me when you can, and you better be safe, alright? Listen to my other voice message if you haven’t already, talk to you soon, bye.”]

Just hearing Jessica’s voice made you feel a bit better, and some of what she said got a little laugh out of you. She always tried to look after you, and with what just happened – you couldn’t be more grateful for it.

So, you did as told, and listened to the other voice message she had left you, curious as to what she had wanted you to know about.

[“Hey, it’s Jess, darlin’. I hope you’re not still with that guy, but if you are then just remember what I told you, okay? Well, anyway, Cece came by, and is waiting for you in the diner, and barely awake at that. So just come by and pick them up, since- well, I’d send ‘em home on their own but honestly I doubt they’d be able to make it there themselves. I’m a little surprised they were even able to reach this place- but you get the jist. Come by, but if you’re still with that guy? I can wait, just hurry up because a girl’s gotta get her beauty sleep. See you, bye.”]

… Oh, well, guess you had to make a stop on your way home, then. You wanted nothing more than to curl up in your bed and just sleep, but it’s not like the walk to the diner was long anyway, and besides, it was on the way back to your apartment, so you couldn’t really complain.

With that, you made a turn and headed towards the diner. Still processing and taking in everything as you do so — but when you feel more tears begin to well up, you push it to the side, and tell yourself that you’ll handle it later. No matter how short or long that interaction was, it drained you, and you desperately needed rest. Maybe it wasn’t the most healthy decision to make, but you couldn’t handle doing anything else right now, so it’d have to wait. Besides, with how tonight went, you definitely didn’t want to think about Dick and the others at the moment – they didn’t deserve it, anyway.

Thankfully, you reached the diner in no time, and it’s only when Jessica stops you at the door do you even realize that your soaked… which makes sense but you feel a little embarrassed when she points it out nonetheless, and says how she loves you but doesn’t want to have to clean the floor again when her shift has been over for about a half hour. Cece was sitting at the counter, and perks up when you enter, giving a sleepy smile before standing up and making their way over to you. Both of you thank Jessica as you take your leave – but not before you wish her a good night and say your usual goodbyes, even if she does make a point about how you and her will talk later. Hell, she even sneaks in how you almost looked like her after her breakup with Michael which… ouch, you can only imagine how awful you really look if that was the case – but it also only fully confirmed that you were talking to her about what happened no matter what.

Still, you were grateful that she left it at that, and didn’t pry anymore as she finally let you and Cece go home. The walk to the apartment – or, rather, the short run there – since you and Cece ended up sharing their jacket as cover from the rain, and they had a funny idea as you both held it over your heads, and… well, one thing led to another – and it's safe to say it turned out to be rather eventful. Ending with you and Cece laughing in front of your apartment building once you reached it, huddled in front of the small entrance – Cece ending up being partially soaked despite their best efforts, and of course, you’re beyond drenched.

Once you reach your shared home, Cece, despite barely being awake, basically shoves you into the shower once you're both a little more settled, and you just do as told – more than a little tired yourself in numerous ways, and definitely not in the mood to argue. When you’re clean and in a new set of clothes, you and Cece talk a little. They try to ask why you had been out, but you just say you ran into someone – though it wasn’t anyone important, and that it wasn’t something to worry about — with them just accepting that answer, much to your relief.

The rest of the evening becomes a bit of a blur after that, with you and Cece just talking some more here and there, sharing a few laughs that really helped brighten your mood and made you forget all about what had happened. The pain becomes dull, and that bright fire in your chest finally dies out - leaving behind a warmth that wasn’t burning or suffocating, but instead comforting and painless. One you welcomed graciously and with open arms as you felt yourself relax more and more.

Eventually, Cece turned in for the night, and as they headed back into their room, you did one last check of the apartment — making sure all the windows were not only locked, but that the curtains were closed. Going as far as to check the front door a few times just to make sure that it was really locked. Even if none of what you did would really stop any of them from getting in - it put your mind at ease a little, and really, that’s all you could hope for.

With that, you finally settled into bed, and fell asleep faster than you had in years.

For once, you hoped you’d never wake up as your worries and fears felt so far away, and reality was out of reach – even if it laid just beyond your closed eyelids. As much as you hoped for a better morning, more than anything, you hoped that you’d just sleep the week away if you could help it. God knows you needed the rest, or at least it felt like you did.

—----------

Dick had no such luxury.

The night became a blur after you had left, and he barely remembers even meeting up with the rest of the family once everything was said and done. He couldn’t tell how long he had been standing in that park all by himself, thinking of everything you had told him and looking at the little pieces of your existence that still remained behind.

All he knows is one thing led to another, and now he’s here – sitting on top of a roof with everyone else both simultaneously chastising him and trying to discuss what they should do now. Though Dick couldn’t bring himself to pay attention, since the events that had unfolded moments prior replayed in his mind like a broken record, torturing him slowly as his brain reminded him of all of the mistakes he’s made tonight. He can’t understand why he said half of what he did, especially because he didn’t mean it. He didn’t mean to blow up like he did – especially in front of you, and when you were clearly hurting and frustrated on top of that. The only thing Dick wanted to do in that moment was stop both of you from arguing, and it seems that his mouth ran off to do just that before he could think of a better way to do it. Now leaving him like this, and things worse off than they were before.

Point is, Dick felt like shit, and he knew he deserved it. Though the rest of the family definitely weren’t helping him out in that regard.

“How the hell did you even fuck this up, Dick?” Jason asks, his tone so heated it sounds like it could’ve come from the depths of hell itself – and all just to burn his older brother.

“I knew I should’ve gone instead, this would’ve never happened-” Tim can’t help but mumble to himself, arms crossed as he sighs, frustrated – but not completely at Dick. If there was a moment for him to really believe he should’ve kept your address and apartment number to himself, it was definitely now.

“Wait- so… what do we do now?” Stephanie asks, concerned over what happened, and that Dick hasn’t really said anything about it to them – even if all of them can tell it went poorly.

Damian just sighs, his arms crossed as well as he looks at Dick before looking to the others, “Take matters into our own hands, obviously.”

“While I agree that something should be done, is it really a good idea to act now?” Barbara pitches in, not entirely sure of what Damian was talking about, but not liking the implications of it all the same. Something about it just didn’t feel right to her, nor did the look he gave her.

“Of course. Now that they’re presumably heading to their apartment, we can just-” before Damian can finish what he was going to say, Cassandra covers his mouth, cutting him off swiftly which annoys the little Robin enough to shove her hand away and give her a scrutinizing look, “what?”

Cassandra just shakes her head, and instead begins to sign something, basically saying how they don’t know if you're even at your apartment, and by the time they find out where you actually are, it’ll probably be morning. Even mentioning how since you know that they know where you live, you probably wouldn’t even be there anymore. Which just causes Damian to huff in response. She had a point, and he knew it, but he wasn’t going to admit it out loud.

Still, despite that Jason spoke up again, “Actually, I agree with the little twerp. Now’s a good a time as any to get them home.”

“... You can't be serious, right?” Barbara asks, now getting a little concerned over what Jason meant as well, and the half-shrug he gave did little to reassure her or calm her nerves that were slowly beginning to rise.

“Why not? They’re still out there doing god knows what- who knows where in the dead of night,” he points out, giving Barbara a little glance, “it anything, I just see more of a reason to get them before anything else happens.”

“Jason, do you even hear yourself right now.”

“What? Is it a crime to be worried for my god damn family now?”

“Jason.” Bruce’s voice pierces through the air, cutting through the tension before anyone else can speak up or give their two cents. Almost as if just his voice alone was enough of a barrier between those who wanted to get you home, those that didn’t, and the few who didn’t know where they stood at the moment. 

Regardless, it’s enough for Jason to stand down, if only temporarily as Bruce turns to Dick – who’s still out of it, and staring at the ground just before his feet.

“Dick,” Bruce calls out, which only gets him a subtle glance, with Dick not even bothering to pick up his head – or maybe he just couldn’t, no one could tell except for the one person among them who was much too fluent in body language. “What do you think?” He asks simply, narrowing his eyes a little when his eldest son grows quieter somehow.

Dick fidgets with the coffee cup in his hands, its warmth long gone, and yet he still runs a finger or two along the side as if it was still there. He doesn’t know why he grabbed it, but now he almost couldn’t find it in himself to let it go. It was yours, after all, if only for a brief moment – and even if all it did was serve as a reminder of his faults, it reminded him of you, and right now? That’s all he could ask for. Dick can’t explain it, but it’s like by holding the cup and having it with him, he had a small part of you with him. Since, sure, while you had left it during your… ‘dispute’ with him, it had come from a place you liked and he could only assume that it was just how you liked your coffee. It was silly, but holding it made him feel close to you, and that’s all he wanted at the moment. To be close.

… It takes him a beat or two before he responds, and even then he seems unsure of himself – but remembering what had transpired minutes ago is enough to set his mind straight.

“I think… we should give them some time, and… a bit of space too for a while.” Dick manages to say hesitantly, tapping the cup lightly as he still holds onto it.

That seemed to quiet everyone down for a moment, until Stephanie eventually asks the question on everyone’s mind.

“Just how badly did things go, Dick?”

He couldn’t answer that, he didn’t want to, so he remained silent. However, Cassandra could tell, and found herself just as divided as she felt the moment she first saw him. She didn’t know what she wanted to do more – throw Dick off the roof, or go looking for you herself. Maybe she’d try to do both if Bruce wasn’t right there. 

“So, what? Do they hate us now or something?” Jason says sarcastically, but with how Dick tenses a little his tone turns harsher, “... You can’t be serious.”

“Dick- please tell me you didn’t screw things up that badly. Please tell me that you didn’t make things worse!” Tim almost begs, desperate to be wrong and hoping that his eldest brother hadn’t made things worse – that there was still a small chance.

Sure, they didn’t expect things to go great, but none of them really believed that they would go so horribly!

“Look, just-” Dick takes a short breath, looking at the cup in his hands in quiet defeat before glancing away, “I think we should give them some time to themself is all.”

Jason can only scoff as he crosses his arms, “I knew I should’ve gone instead, they would’ve been home right now.”

“I believe me and father would’ve handled the situation much better,” Damian states, as if it would lead to the only positive outcome should he and Bruce had gone instead.

“I knew I should’ve kept my mouth shut and just gone over by myself- stupid! Stupid! Stupid!” Tim curses under his breath, looking away as he continues to mumble to himself – expression growing increasingly darker and the air around him shifting into… something indescribable.

Cassandra seemed just about ready to rip something apart, and Stephanie was getting nervous from how the others seemed to be reacting, only able to stutter out a small, “G- guys? Maybe we shouldn’t be talking about this right now-”

“I agree…” Barbara chips in, her own concerns only growing as she looks at the family, but tries to help Stephanie out nonetheless, “What’s done is done, and we should be trying to figure out what to do from here on out.”

Damian scoffs, “Right, like that will be easy with brother being silent about everything.” Dick could only look away in response, taking a small sip of the coffee in his hands, finding a little bit of comfort in its taste. It was cold, and wasn’t how he usually got his done – but it’s how you liked it, and that was enough from him to like it too.

A small argument seemed to spawn from that alone, with some now going back and forth yet again on what to do – Cassandra, Jason, and Damian pretty adamant about wanting to bring you home, with Barbara, Stephanie, and Dick more keen on waiting and giving you space — even if Dick was definitely more quiet about his stance, still thinking about… whatever was on his mind. Tim didn’t seem to engage much in the arguing either, and instead seemed to be dealing with his own thing as he kept mumbling to himself, leaving Bruce to be stuck listening to all of the nonsense until he finally got fed up with it.

“Quiet down, all of you.” He states firmly, voice cold and harsh as he shuts everyone up without even moving an inch. His eyes seemed to judge all of them as he looked at everything before sighing, and making the decision for everyone.

“We’ll give them time, and stand down for now.” He says, his tone alone indicating that there would be no arguing on this. What he said was final, and everyone would be smart to follow along with it, no matter where they stood. Still, he turned to look down at the city, and caught the faintest glimpse of your apartment building in the not-so-far distance. “but if anything happens, then we’ll act accordingly.”

[sleekhereticeidolon]

In Loving Memory: A Fanfiction Tribute to My Late Father and His Admiration for Elvis Presley.(Part 6)

For more reading, click here!

I quietly reach out for a portion of the meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and salad, my expression calm. The food looks appetizing, and a sense of curiosity about the flavors begins to grow within me.Elvis watches me intently, an interested and amused smile spreading across his face as I serve myself. I suddenly feel a flutter of uncertainty—self-consciousness, a word I wouldn’t have known at that age. He’s genuinely intrigued by my interaction with the food, as if waiting to see how you’ll respond to these classic American dishes.Taking my first bite, the flavors blend together pleasantly. “So, what do you think?” he asks. I notice his gaze, and my cheeks heat up under the attention.You nod slightly, “It’s good,” I reply, feeling a mix of shyness and appreciation.

Elvis grins, clearly happy I am enjoying the meal. “Food has a way of bringing people together. I’m glad you’re giving it a shot.”As I enjoy the meal, Elvis turns to me and Dion with a curious expression. “So, what do y’all usually eat?” he asks, genuinely interested in getting to know more about our backgrounds.Dion responds without missing a beat, “Rice, curry, vegetables, and fish or chicken—pretty much a staple for us.” Elvis raises an eyebrow, intrigued. “That sounds delicious! I’ve never tried a lot of those dishes,” he replies.I watch as a spark of curiosity ignites in Elvis's eyes. “Is it spicy?” he asks, wanting to know more about the cuisine me and my family enjoy.Dion nods, a mischievous grin appearing. “Oh, it can be! We love our spices.”Elvis laughs, clearly fascinated.

Dion smirks and says, “You should definitely try our food sometime, Elvis. It’ll be a good challenge for you!” Elvis laughs and says,“Just maybe not something that’ll make my eyes water.”Leaning back slightly, Elvis looks at me with a curious expression. “So, what do you think about Americans?” he asks, genuinely interested.Maintaining a calm face, not wanting to hurt his feelings, I reply, “I heard more bad than good.” My brother laughs, and Elvis chuckles, clearly amused by my boldness. However, I notice a slight shift in his expression as he takes in my words, a thoughtful look crossing his face. He pauses for a moment, considering what I said before responding. “But you know what? There are plenty of good people who just want to connect and share joy—like us here tonight!”

Elvis offers me a reassuring smile. “Sometimes it just takes the right people to bring out the best in a place,” he adds, his voice warm and sincere.He looks at me, wanting to ensure I feel comfortable and understood. “And I’m glad you’re here with us. That means a lot, and I hope your experience is more about the good moments than the bad.” Then, with curiosity, he asks, “What exactly bad have you heard about us?” I hesitate, not wanting to share those thoughts. Elvis chuckles softly, leaning back as he observes me, sensing my reluctance to divulge more.

The camaraderie among the three of you feels effortless, filled with laughter and lightness that helps solidify the connection I was forming, even though I tend to be on the quieter side.As I lounge comfortably on Elvis's bed, he leans in with a playful curiosity. “So, did you have your first kiss yet?” he asks, a mischievous smile on his face.Feeling a rush of embarrassment, I reply, “No.” The gesture adds a hint of humor to the moment, but I was aware of how personal the question feels.Elvis chuckles, enjoying my shyness. “Ah, the mystery of first kisses! It can be quite the adventure,” he says, leaning back slightly, his interest piqued. I listen quietly, my heart racing a bit at the conversation’s direction. There’s something surprisingly endearing about his playful teasing.“Don’t worry, it’ll happen when the time is right,” he adds, his tone light and reassuring. “And trust me, you want it to be special.”

Elvis leans back slightly. “You know, children seem curious, so they often have their first kiss very early,” he comments, a thoughtful expression on his face.I listen quietly, intrigued by his perspective. The statement reflects a mix of playful wisdom and understanding, and I can see that he genuinely appreciates the innocence of youth. "Curiosity can lead to all sorts of adventures,” he continues, a hint of nostalgia in his tone, as if he’s reminiscing about his own experiences. “Sometimes, those early moments are the most memorable.”I find yourself contemplating his words, reflecting on your own feelings about relationships and the nature of growing up. While you may still feel a bit distant from the idea of romance, I realize that these conversations are part of understanding the journey of life.Dion chimes in, “Yeah, but it should be special! It’s not something to rush into.” Elvis nods in agreement, echoing Dion's sentiment. “Exactly. It should be genuine—a moment you look back on fondly.”

Elvis looks at me with an amused smirk. “Don’t you want to know how my first kiss was?”l reply, “No, I think I am okay.” My response earns bursts of laughter from both my brother and Elvis. Elvis throws his head back, unable to contain his chuckles, clearly enjoying my straightforwardness. “Wow, you’re not at all curious?” he teases between laughs, his eyes sparkling with joy.As I settle more comfortably into the pillows, I feel a gentle pat on your head. I glance up to find Elvis looking down at me with a soft smile, an expression of warmth and care in his eyes. The gesture feels reassuring, and it swells my heart with comfort.“Sweet dreams,” he whispers, and you feel a sense of safety wash over me as I nuzzle deeper into the pillows, my eyelids growing heavy. As I stretch and get out of bed, I notice that Elvis and Dion are still sleeping in the same room.

The soft morning light creeps in, casting a warm glow around me and I take a moment to shake off the remnants of sleep. Unbeknownst to me, Elvis has already woken up and is watching me with an amused smirk on his face, clearly taking in the sight of me. When I turn around and catch his gaze, you feel a rush of surprise, heat creeping up your cheeks. “Oh! Good morning!” I exclaim, blinking wide-eyed in the morning light.Elvis chuckles, that charming smile still plastered on his face. “Good morning! You’re quite the early riser,” he replies, a playful lilt in his voice. “I was just admiring the view.”

Feeling my face flush deeper, I try to hide my embarrassment behind a playful stance. Dion stirs , rubbing his eyes and yawning. When he notices the situation, he quickly glances between me and Elvis. “What’s going on over there?” he asks, a teasing smile spreading across his face as he notices my reaction.I get up from the bed, stretching slightly before I make my way to the bathroom. As I walk, frustration bubbles up inside me, prompting me to mumble to myself, “That’s why I don’t like staying at another person’s house.”

Elvis catches sight of me as I pass by, noticing the frustrated tone in my voice, even though he can’t quite make out the words. A playful grin spreads across his face as he leans back against the doorframe. “What’s that, honey?” he asks, his voice teasing.I glance back at him, feeling a bit self-conscious, and reply quickly, “Oh, nothing,” before slipping into the bathroom and shutting the door behind me.As you all gather for breakfast, the aroma of fresh coffee and hearty dishes fills the air. The table is laden with a variety of options—pancakes, eggs, bacon, and fruit, creating an inviting atmosphere for the meal.

Elvis sits across from me, his playful demeanor shining through as he glances my way. “So, are you ready for some delicious food?” he asks, a charming smile on his face.You nod shyly, the warmth of his attention both flusters me, making it hard to speak—but I don’t mind, enjoying the comfort of the moment.The maid, who has been serving breakfast, notices the dynamic between me and Elvis. A soft giggle escapes her as she observes my bashful reaction .After finishing breakfast, the conversation flows easily, and laughter fills the air. Elvis turns to Dion with a playful grin. “What if I want Gesilda to stay with me for a while?”

Without missing a beat, I respond gently with a little worry, “Hey, No.” My directness surprises both of them, and they burst into laughter at my unyielding stance. Dion, still chuckling, adds with a light-hearted tone, “Well, I don’t have clothes packed!” The comment brings a hint of frustration to my mind as you ask Dion, “Yeah, why didn’t Father pack your clothes if he had already packed mine?” As I say this, l could sense that Elvis is amused by the whole situation.Sounds like I need to have a talk with your dad about better packing strategies!” he jokes, lightening the mood even further.

Elvis looks at me and Dion with a mischievous grin. “Guilty! Actually, I told your father to pack your clothes,” he admits with a chuckle, “and I didn’t think he would actually consider it .I feel a rush of surprise at his revelation, and instinctively, I try to hide your expression, not wanting to reveal any frustration . You quickly mask my feelings.So it’s your fault, Elvis!” my brother teases, a grin spreading across his face. “You should have known better than to trust Dad with packing!”Elvis laughs, relishing the moment. “I guess I underestimated him! But hey, now we know for next time,” he replies, flashing me an amused glance.With a calm face, I reply, “Now I’ll always check the trunk of the car.”

My response brings another round of laughter from both Elvis and Dion. Their amusement lightens the mood further, making me feel somewhat at ease despite my earlier frustrations.As they chuckle, I can’t help but think to myself, *What’s wrong with him?* My father’s tendency to pack for me without my knowledge feels puzzling.As Elvis heads out, he pretends not to notice the nonverbal exchange between me and Dion, maintaining his relaxed demeanor. His playful charm remains intact, and it’s clear that he’s focused on the moment, ready for whatever comes next.Dion simply nods, understanding the silent communication that passed between me without needing to say anything. There’s a comfort in this unspoken bond, which allows me to process what’s happening in my family without needing to vocalize my confusion and concerns.With Elvis gone for the moment, me and Dion sit silently for a beat, the warmth of the room enveloping you both. You feel a mixture of curiosity and subtle worry about your father's behavior, but the laughter from earlier still lingers, creating a buoyant atmosphere.

Elvis thinks about a slight shift in father's behavior during the gathering. *What’s going on with him?* he ponders. He feels a sense of empathy, understanding the challenges that can come with family dynamics, especially in unique situations like this one.As Elvis wanders through the house, his mind drifts back to the interaction he just witnessed. He recalls the fleeting moment when I looked at Dion, and he noticed a flicker of frustration in my eyes regarding your father. Elvis reflects on how emotions can run deep, especially when it comes to familial bonds. He considers the implications of your earlier comments and the way I responded to certain situations. While I appeared playful and confident in front of him and Dion, that brief moment of frustration hinted at a more intricate dynamic at play—one that he hadn't fully grasped yet.Elvis finds himself feeling empathetic toward me, appreciating the challenges of navigating those feelings.

When Elvis returns with juices in hand, I notice a slight shift in his demeanor; there’s an underlying sadness that catches my attention. I can’t help but wonder if my parents mentioned something to him about leaving soon. He hands me one of the juices, and I hesitate, instinctively holding back because of my trust issues—a feeling I don’t feel comfortable sharing with him. Elvis, seeing my hesitation, takes a sip from his own juice, his eyes never leaving mine.“Want to drink now?” he asks playfully, a hint of encouragement in his tone. I take a moment before nodding slightly and reaching for the juice. Elvis smirks, clearly amused by the interaction, while I try to focus solely on the drink in my hands, feeling the weight of my thoughts.As I sip the juice slowly, Elvis watches you with a mix of curiosity and warmth. He seems to genuinely care about my comfort, and despite my initial hesitations, I begin to appreciate the effort he’s making to connect with me.

As I take a slow sip from the juice, Elvis observes my behavior closely. He notes how cautiously I approach the drink, as if trying to assess it before fully embracing it. *She’s tentative,* he thinks to himself, recognizing the underlying trust issues that might be at play. In moments like this, he sees a different side of me—one that suggests a deeper complexity beneath my youthful confidence. "What’s really going on in her mind?" ."I can’t blame her for that; trust takes time,"he reflects.Deciding to break the lingering tension, he leans back slightly and offers a warm smile. “You know, it’s just juice,” he says in a light tone, hoping to reassure me. “No funny business, I promise.” He hopes this will ease my mind and he is determined to create a space where I feel comfortable enough to let my guard down, even if just a little.

As I take another sip of my juice, I notice a subtle change in Elvis's expression again. His playful demeanor seems to fade, and a hint of sadness crosses his face. “Y’all are leaving back to India soon, huh?” he asks.I listen quietly,his words hang in the air and I sense the weight of his emotions. It’s clear that the thought of my departure is affecting him more than he might want to reveal.Elvis’s gaze drifts for a moment, and I can see the charm and charisma that usually light up his face momentarily dimmed by the realization of me leaving. I feel a pang in my heart for both him and the situation—his desire to connect with me juxtaposed with the reality of time slipping away. He adds, a hint of vulnerability in his voice. “It’s not every day I get to meet someone like you.”I was struck by the sincerity in his words and the genuine connection I have been building throughout the evening. In this moment, the atmosphere becomes more profound, emphasizing the significance of my interactions. I choose to remain silent, letting the moment speak for itself.

Elvis looks at me, sensing the mix of emotions swirling within me. “You must be happy about this,” he says, his tone somewhat light. You pause for a moment, thinking to yourself, *Am I though?* There’s a pang of guilt in my heart as you consider how my departure might affect him. It’s complicated—I want to be excited about heading back home, but I also feel a sense of connection with him that makes me feel a little uneasy.With a gentle yet straight face, you reply, “Thank you for the juice.” Elvis smirks, leaning in slightly as if he’s enjoying this playful exchange. “Could you repeat that, honey?” he prompts teasingly, clearly relishing the moment.Feeling a bit stubborn, not wanting to reveal too much or show my true feelings, I respond simply, “No.”

His laughter fills the room again, a warm sound that somehow eases the tension. “You’re a tough one, aren’t you?” he grins, clearly amused at my playful defiance.Despite the lighthearted nature of the moment, I can’t help but feel a mix of warmth and uncertainty. Elvis’s charm makes the evening feel magical, yet part of me hesitates to get too close, wanting to maintain a sense of distance while still enjoying the connection.Elvis looks at me with a playful glint in his eye and asks, “May I kiss you?” I respond with a calm face, considering the question. “On the cheeks? Okay...”

His reaction is immediate—he covers his mouth, bursting into giggles at my straightforward response. “You’re absolutely priceless!” he exclaims, clearly amused by my sensible take on the situation.The laughter feels light and joyous, filling the space with a warm energy. Despite the playful nature of the moment, I also feel a flutter of excitement at the interaction. Elvis leans in slightly, clearly enjoying the moment. “Alright then, come here!” he says, playfully beckoning you forward, making it clear he’s ready to deliver that cheek kiss.

I would love to hear your thoughts!💗

[tojisteddy]

Sit and do Nothing with me. | cw: fluff, roommate!soap, naive!reader.

You loved those two little, cottage core amphibians like they were your lifeline, checked out all the books when you were a kid at the library, you had the claymation burned on dvd by your cousin, a little keychain on your bag, and a small framed picture on the walls of your bathroom.

So of course you’d spent your rare day off, lounging in the living room, in a oversized green hoodie, watching Frog & Toad. It comforted you, giving you that warm comfy feeling.

Johnny plops himself down on his end of the couch, getting comfortable as Toad bangs his head against the wall trying to think of a good story to tell, “Isn’t this a bit childish?” He asks, raising an eyebrow.

You blinked, the butterflies of embarrassment rising in the bit of your stomach. You didn’t react though, just grabbed the remote and changed the channel before setting it on the coffee table. Lips in a thin line, biting the inside of your mouth. You two sat in silence, you barely even noticing what your vision was taking into your brain. You didn’t even realize your eyes were glossy and face was wet with tears.

Johnny quickly notices though, regret filling him to the brim— “Hey-“

“—I’m sorry. I’m bein childish.” You hiccuped, quickly standing and wiping off your tears, “I’m makin you uncomfortable.” You tired to run off to your room, knowing at least there, no one would tease you about watching something like this. But the older guy grabs your wrist just enough to get you to look back at him.

“No Bonnie, I just— ’s my fault, thought I’d tease ya a bit but it just made ya upset. I was daft, yeah? ‘M sorry bunny. I love your show.”

You sniff, “You don’t have to make up for it. I’m fine.”

“Not makin it up lass,” he quickly gets up from his seat, leaving you with a pout on your lips. He comes back, a little keychain in hand— a crochet Frog.

You fidget with your fingers where you stand, another sniffle, “What’s that about?”

“Well, some old lady was sellin ‘em the market, thought I’d get one t’remind me ‘f ye.” He can’t help the red tint that shows on his cheeks. The keychain was more than cute, and Johnny, was being more than cute.

“ ‘M sorry, Bon. Truly. Let’s watch yer show, together yeah,” he suggests, sitting down on the couch, arms wide. One side of his lips curve up, “know ye want t’cuddle swee’art, come on, just a bit.”

You rolls your eyes, wiping your eyes and caving. You squeak out, ever so cutely, “Just a bit.”

You practically throw yourself in the brutes big arms, nuzzling your head in his chest while he holds you close.

That warm, cozy feeling growing even more with each second you spend time together.

a/n: for my girls who’s comfort show is deemed “for kids” but still so enjoyable for every age. Realizing this is kinda shit after posting it😀

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