#The town I live in is too small for an actual store where I can try one

[tilseptemberends]

I love being a grown-up. I just blew half of my paycheck on a new bed.

Because I'm cool and exciting like that 😎

[peachesofteal]

Deckhand Simon Riley / female reader 18+ mdni, dubcon. Simon is very no good terrible and kind of mean. Predator/prey. Excessive alcohol consumption, manipulation. Spitting, size, praise, a little bit of breeding/daddy - kink.

Simon arrives to town on the last summer wind. 

It’s cold for the shoulder of the season. Not the coldest he’s ever felt, but cold enough his scars become rigid, inflexible swaths of skin littered across his body pinching at every hinge. 

He can already feel the burn. The stretch and strain of his upper back, his arms, his legs. Can already feel the weight of the pots, sharp metal slamming and crashing, teeming with things that look more like creatures than they do delicacies.

Hook. String. Pull. Block.

The people stare at him, wide, wind whipped eyes peeking out underneath knit wool hems, gagged and confused, whispers passed back and forth like children with a lolly. 

Did you see him? 

Look at the size of ‘im- 

Is that Ernest’s new deckhand? 

Fucking monster of a man, I tell you. 

He keeps his head down. Eyes fixed to the floor, old instinct still churning in his blood, shoulders stiff and squared. Captains are all the same, whether on land or at sea. Says “yes sir” as Ernest sizes him up, asks about his previous two seasons, and then sends him away with a perfunctory nod and a departure date. 

The Old Man leaves in two weeks. See you then.

King crab fishing is the closest he’s felt to having a foot in the grave since he was actually in one. Opponents in a firefight are known, predictable. Monsters of their own kind, but ones he knows intimately. Minds of a killer, the lot of them, a certain subset of consciousness nearly shared. 

The ocean shares its mind with no one. Its secrets are its own, buried in the briny deep, never to be revealed. 

And the Bering-  

The Bering is its own horror. Savage and cruel to those who would tempt it, willing to swallow anything offered and pull it down into fathomless black water. Cold enough to kill a man in seconds. Violent enough to toss them all to sea. 

He’s seen it happen. More than once. The environment is uncontrollable, unpredictable, lethal, and the work is arduous. 

The company is tolerable at best. The season is short, yet taxing. Deckhands live dozens of years, in a few short months. They stare off into nothing, watching the horizon, long gone look in their eye. 

Still, he sees familiar flickers in them, same firelight he’s seen in the many men he’s killed, or worked alongside of. 

At the base of it, these types of men, his kind, are all the same. 

Rabid and dangerous in packs. 

The cove is nearly derelict. The town spills up into white and black spruce, houses nestled in the grove of tree trunks twice Simon’s size, all doors facing the warped and tilted wooden slats of a long-loved dock. 

There isn’t much here, a small grocery, a liquor store, a petrol station and of course- 

A pub. 

Aptly named The Wharf, the bar is as old hat as they come, seedy and sticky, sunken into the soft earth. It’s everything he’s come to expect in a fishing town this far up north, where the season is variable, and the money is too. Dark wood from floor to ceiling, over polished oak horseshoe, neglected stools and booths. Everything creaks, and The Wharf is no exception. The pub, the dock, the trees. Wind whistles and bark groans, a rasp you can only find here, in these places where time is too slow, and the world forgets. 

There are rooms above the bar, usually rented to his ilk, deckhands biding their time, greenhorns rattling with excitement. They all filter in weeks before the season opens, and when he checks into his, he’s not surprised when the woman at the desk tells him he’s got the last one. 

There are only ten, after all.

The Wharf’s side door swings open in a gust of blistering wind, yet not a single person turns their head. 

None except him, though he doesn’t need to look to know it’s you. 

He can smell you. Can feel you, clear across the floor. Sea salt and lavender, it whirls in your wake wherever you go, and when he lingers on the sidewalk outside of your little workshop, he swears he’s standing in a cloud of it. 

“If y’need jackets, bibs mended from last season, there’s a place on the corner, next to The Wharf. She’ll get ‘em done before season.” 

You’re the bloody seamstress. The tailor. Nimble fingers twisting and tying, threading and looping inside a faded light blue storefront, working into the small hours of the night. Your workspace is small, and overflowing with bright orange polyurethane covered clothes, long lengths of neoprene, socks, shirts, wristers. A mass of work, it seems, one that keeps your light on after all others have gone dark. 

Except The Wharf’s. 

It’s the second time he’s seen you here. 

He doesn’t count the times he’s seen you without you realizing it. Doesn’t count the times he’s finished a cigarette on the street at the perfect angle, a solid perch to peer right in through your window. He doesn’t count the times he’s watched you from The Wharf’s one dark window, when you step outside to take a long breath of air, stretching your back and shaking your arms out, rolling your head in a circle- 

and baring your throat for the slaughter.

The first was days ago, close to zero hundred, when you swung in to settle on a barstool with your back to the door. You look like you’re made from spools of silk, even underneath all of your winter layers, big coat, knit wool hat. There’s a coruscated dapple in your eye, one that manages to shimmer even in the darkest shadows of the bar, voice saccharine as he’s ever heard, dipping into a melody as you go back and forth with the bartender. 

He hears it now when he closes his eyes at night, awash in a sea of bourbon, cigarette stench sunken into his skin. A gentle rhythm, a syrupy voice, saying his name. 

Screaming it. 

You catch his gaze across the bar. Catch him watching you, peeling you, picking you apart, but you say nothing. Blink a few times, glance down at your beer, pretend to busy yourself with something else. It’s not a flinch, but close enough to it. 

He knows what you see. What you should see. 

A monster. Licking his lips at a girl. A fire breather bearing down on top of a princess. 

If he crossed this room right now and yanked you off that barstool, who would interrupt? Intervene? They’re all men of the same vein, born from different battlefields. The rules of engagement become status quo, regardless of whether you’re baptized by the Bering, or by fire.

Rabid, dangerous in packs.  

Eleven days left, and he’s finally found something worthwhile to occupy his time, besides lurking in the dingy corners of The Wharf like an old, decrepit sailor. 

You. 

You live above the shop, an old fire escape leads to a wooden door with a big window, one covered by a curtain hung from the inside. 

The Wharf’s rooms have a fire escape too. A metal catwalk. 

Metal. Who’s the idiot who decided metal anything would be good in a place like this? Iron nearly turned red, rusted to all hell. One shift, and it all falls down. 

He takes his watch there, at night. A gargoyle at his post, waiting for the flicker of your kitchen and bedroom lights, shapes and shadows dancing behind the thin drapes, a ballerina on stage for the masses. 

For him. 

He brings you his gear. Looms over you at the desk where your sewing machine is grinding out an industrial stitch thicker than what he’s seen on parachutes. 

“H-hi.” Hi. Aren’t you cute? A little lamb, alone in the woods.

He nods. Stays silent. Enjoys watching his catch twist herself up on his hook. 

You glance at the noxious orange pieces draped over his arm, and half timidly reach.

“Need those patched? Er, like… have any tears or rips?” Not really. He keeps his gear in good condition. Throws out his underclothes after every season- can never get the stench of fish out of em, but his outer gear is well cared for. 

It almost pained him to rip them apart last night. 

“Simon.” He gives it expectantly, jogging your manners to the forefront. You have the good grace to look embarrassed with how fast you spit out your own name.

“Bibs have a few holes. Big ones. Jacket’s got a rip under the armpit.” You reach, tiny little fingers stretching across the barren space between him and you, and he lashes down the urge to snatch your wrist out of midair and bring it to his teeth. 

Do you taste like lavender? Sea salt? Is your cunt briny like the Bering, slicked sweet and brackish? 

“Okay, well, I should have them done before-“ 

“You better.” You startle, eyes wide and confused, before they find your feet, cowed little girl before an awful man. “Jus’ need em, is all.” He softens the approach, not willing to cut you down just yet (that comes later), and you respond well, perfectly, pushing your glasses up onto the bridge of your nose with a genuine smile. 

Live bait on the line. Set, cast, hook.

“Got it.” 

His control is becoming a house of cards. 

You’re in The Wharf earlier tonight, asking Jimmy for a double, whiskey over ice and nearly to the brim of a rocks glass. Just one, you say. Neck is sore as hell.

He maintains a distance. More inclined to watch you devolve, fascinated by the way you unravel with each sip. Lightweight. Figures.

You pull your glasses off and rub your temples, hopping off the bar stool with a quick word over your shoulder, a request for another drink. “Just goin’ to the bathroom.” You explain, walking away with a hardly detectable sway in your step- 

directly into the side of the wall the bar juts out from. 

Someone, a woman who never so much as looks up the entire time she’s here, furrows her brow at where you’re rubbing your forehead and tsks. 

“Your glasses!” You turn, embarrassed, downright mortified, and sheepishly slide your fingers across the bar until you find them. 

“Oh, right. Thanks Laurie.” Laurie, says nothing. Not until you’ve turned away and almost disappeared into the bathroom. Then, she mutters to herself, into her fresh pint. 

“Damn girl is blind as bat without those things.” 

He buys Laurie another round before he leaves for the night. An eventual thanks. 

"Can I bum one?"

His neck nearly snaps. Where did you come from? You're timid in the mouth of the alley, lichen washed red brick flanking you on either side, your hands folded together at your navel.

"Little girls allowed to smoke 'round here?" Now your neck snaps.

"I- I'm not a little girl, thank you." It's like you're trying to turn your nose up at him, but he's a giant above, and it's hopeless.

"Sure you're not." He plucks the cigarette from his lips, and then holds it out to you. Your breath hitches, top teeth digging deep, an instigation, invitation. His hand whips forward, too fast for you to realize, gripping your chin, pressing his thumb into the flesh of your bottom lip. "Want a drag or not?"

"S-sure." He's got your cheeks squeezed together, just so, enough that the fat of them crowds your mouth and makes the s sound more like a whistle.

He doesn't let go as he feeds it to you, stopping just before the filter touches your teeth. "Go ‘head then." You draw, deep, eyes closing as that first hit of nicotine rushes your blood, undoubtedly making you light headed, and his cock thickens with dreams of his fat head pushing between your lips instead of this cigarette, dreams of you split open on him with a soaked pussy, neck bared for his teeth.

Hook. String. Pull.

He squeezes himself overtop his jeans, heavy weight pulsing between his legs, a dangerous affliction growing larger and larger with each second. He could rock against his palm, right here in front of you, and it would feel worlds better than the last measly meal he had, months and months ago. Nothing will compare to you, he already knows.

You see it all. Frozen like a deer in headlights, your lips part, transfixed, confused. Will you run? Will you shout? Will you tell?

"I uh, I better... get going. Have a lot of work t-to finish." Good girl. He nods, letting go of his aching cock, slipping the cigarette back in his mouth, searching for even a hint of lavender and sea salt lingering in the filter.

"Goodnight."

Four days left, and his gear is finished.

You leave a message for him, letting him know he can pick up whenever is convenient. During shop hours. Cash or card accepted. What a dutiful business owner.

You’re in the back when he arrives. It’s long past close, but no one locks their doors here. Anyone could walk right in.

“Be right out!” You yell, slightly muffled. He doesn’t respond, doesn’t opt to give himself away, just waits at the front desk, where a mug of fresh coffee sits, still hot, still steaming.

Desperation for claim, for possession, claws up his throat to his tongue, thrashing in a fit until saliva pools in his cheeks. He sucks through his teeth, rolling the pockets behind his molars forward, pulling as much as he can, his soul even, up and out, landing it in a glob on the surface of your evening caffeine fix.

It sits there, tiny bubbles and all, an island in endless ocean, unable to break apart or disappear. Blatant. Obvious.

So, he sticks his finger in it and gives a quick swirl. For good measure.

There’s rustling in the back, and then you pop through the doors, glasses sliding to your nose. “Hi! So sor-“

You grind to a halt, spine curling forward, as if you’re trying to protect your precious organs from his fingers, avoiding his grip around your ribs, his urge to rip you open and devour you whole.

He smirks. “Got a message my gear is done? Nick o’ time.”

“Yeah, it’s… it’s done. I’ve got it, one sec.” You fidget, gun shy and shuddering, flitting away on the turn of a heel, eager to escape where he hulks in front of your desk, no doubt.

When you come back, you’re a bit more put together. Polished. Glasses in their rightful place, you place his bib and jacket on the counter unceremoniously, lips pressed together. He hands you a wad of cash, and you count it carefully, keeping your eyes pinned on the bills as he inspects the stitching, taking stock in your sharp attention to detail. “Like new, great work. Thank you.”

You go doe eyed, demure, flattered, and then confused, trying to reconcile this man, this version with the one from last night. “T-thank you.”

It all comes to a head, two days out.

There’s a party of sorts, a gathering. Entire boat of deckhands crammed into The Wharf, plus others, town residents and even some from the next over.

Too many, for Simon’s tastes.

Too many, except for one.

You’re crammed between the wall and someone’s shoulder, occasionally saying hello, accepting thanks for work well done. You keep your idle hands busy, accepting drink after drink, a shot of tequila, another of rum.

You’re even dressed up, cute as a button. Sweet as cream, honey on the hive.

Your hiccups ring out from across the room directly to his ears, chest shaking with each one. The bar is at max volume, shouting, cheering, chattering, but he can hear you crystal clear. Can hear the high pitch echo of each one, can hear your throat bobbing, the long exhale singing from your nose after trying to hold your breath. “I need some air,” you say to your neighbor, “be right back.”

He downs the last of his bourbon, subtle fire in his throat, and then makes for the back door.

Your arms are crossed, leaning against the brick with your head tipped back, eyes closed. Wearing a knit sweater, a skirt, and wool leggings, for fucks sake. “Dangerous place to be, a little girl all alone.” Your eyes snap wide, startled.

“Simon,” you don’t stutter his name, liquor easing your nerves, sweetening you up to a slaughter like the little lamb you are. Your ability to assess risk is long gone, and when you peek over at him, head rolling, the usual skittish haunt of your gaze is nowhere to be found.

“Out for a smoke?”

“No, just some fresh air.”

“Poor lamb. Drink too much?” You shrug, steadying your balance against the wall. Trying to appear more with it than he knows you are.

He stalks closer, closer than you should be comfortable with, but you only sigh, wilted as the grass withered by the impending winter.

He tests. Probes. Brushes a hand against yours, watches how you tip a little to the side, his side, eyes glassy between hard blinks. “You’re so sweet, little lamb.”

“Oh,” you make an o with your lips when you say it, like you’re suprised. “T-thank you.”

“Do you taste sweet, you think?” You jolt, but he handles your hip like he’s afraid you’ll fall, though you have a better grasp on your balance than you think you do. “Hmm?”

“I’m… I’m not sure.” It’s a race now, one you’re desperate to catch up in, but falling behind faster and faster.

Hook. String. Pull.

“Open your mouth.” You do, on instinct, and he hums with approval. “Good girl.” He sticks his thumb inside, depressing your tongue, shoving back and to the side, hard enough he stretches the corner of your lip, and then tugs.

Hooked.

You’re too drunk to process it, not really. Enflamed with a rollercoaster of shock, shame and disgust. But beneath it all, something else rises, breaks at the surface for air. Desire.

He doesn’t waste the moment, hands splayed at your ribcage, shoving you back against the wall, your shoulders slamming into it. He’s on you, rabid, wolf at the throat of a lamb, tongue forcing its way between your teeth without permission. You jerk, tense, muscles shifting like you might put your arms up, but instead they fall limply to your sides, and you moan.

String.

The length of his torso, chest and stomach press against you, hold you in place, allowing him free rein to wrap his fingers into the fine fabric of your wool stockings and rip. The shocked little gasp falls from you as expected, but you’re too far gone to fight. Prize on the line, he tugs them aside and strokes over your folds, already wet for him, dipping into your cunt, tight and fluttering around his invasion.

“Si- Simon- stop.” You push at him shoulders, trying and failing, squirming and whining. He shoves deeper, one nearly too much, two an impossible fit.

“Why would I stop when you’re so wet f’me little girl?” He presses the swell of his cock against you, your walls clenching at the contact, and he chuckles darkly. “Gonna say you don’t want this, sweet lamb? Gonna lie when this little pussy is dripping all over my hand?” You’re scandalized. Ripped from your comfort and thrown ashore, a fish out of water, gasping on land. He breathes into your neck, biting and sucking his way back up to your mouth where he distracts you for a brief moment, long enough to tip your balance to the side, a stutter step disrupting your focus, and delivers an opportune strike to snatch your glasses off your face so fast you flinch backwards in the confusion. He manages to cup your head just in time and cushion its bounce against the brick.

Pull.

“My glasses.” Your voice trembles, and he’s surprised to feel a twinge of guilt. Don’t worry little one. He’ll pull you apart, but he’ll put you back together. Eventually. “Simon… my- my glasses, do you see my glasses?”

“No, sorry. It’s too dark, sweet thing.” You tear up, horrified, and they spill down your cheeks, fat and wet, leaving tracks all the way to your neck.

He licks them with glee.

“I need to-“ he pays you no mind, returning to his work, his meal, shoving your knee to the side and lifting you up the wall, until the smear of you cunt weeps all over his jeans. “I need-“

“Know what you need, little girl.” He shreds your leggings wider, tearing a hole big enough to expose your thighs, your lower belly. Later, when he has you pinned to his bed, he’ll eat you until you can’t speak or see, but for now, bludgeoning the entirety of his cock into this too tight space will have to do.

You hiccup again. It’s too sweet, rots his soul. He wonders if you’ll be here, when he gets back. If you’ll run, or if you’ll wait. Maybe he’ll give you something to remember him by, knock you up, nice and fat by summer, heavy with a piece of him. Maybe.

He slides his zipper now, pulling the weight of his cock free, sliding the head through your slit as you look down. You can’t see, how big, how thick, how impossible it looks, head trying to push into you, your body unyielding, spasming as he batters his way inside. You claw at his shoulders, spitting out a half moan, a half sob, and he taps his forehead to yours. “It’s too m-much, too- hurts-“

“Don’t fight it. You’ve got plenty of room, be good.” He soothes with a lie, probably. You’re so tight he can feel you in his bones, restricting, bearing down. He pushes, heat and slick closing in around him, making him dizzy, his pulse pounding in his ears. “Fuck- that’s it. Feel that?” He drags your hand to the root of his cock, splaying your fingers around the base. “Feel yourself splittin’ open on me?” You moan some nonsense, some sort of garbage mixed with a yes, and a no. “Perfect little pussy, stretchin’ for me, yeah?” Only for me.

He fucks you so hard you’re shoving higher and higher up the wall, cunt choking him with each thrust, your fingers twisted in his sweatshirt, clinging on for dear life, a sailor in a storm. Lost in the fuzzy, blurry world without your glasses, he gives you a port in the dark, a lighthouse calling you home. He spreads you wide, rolling over your clit, pinching, thumbing, finding the rhythm that makes your buzz, hips starting to jerk, swallow him up.

Unbelievably, you tighten up even more, eyes slamming shut, and he holds you steady at your hips, driving deep, mouth on your ear. “Gonna be good and cum? Gonna show daddy how good you can be and cum all over his cock?” You gasp, and he drags you to it, pushes you over, rolls your shoulders back against the brick when you curl forward, pussy so tight it tries to force him out. You scream with it, but he covers your mouth, palm to your tongue, elbow at your collarbone. He’s relentless now, shoving himself until there isn’t a space inside you not filled with him, as fast as possible, body like a ragdoll. When he’s on the edge, teetering so close, he pinches your cheeks. “Open up, little lamb.” Your brow furrows, but partially blind, you’re more trusting, and you do as you’re asked. His hips piston, a rough saw, chasing, sprinting towards the end, heat climbing down his spine and across every muscle until he’s shoved so deep inside you he thinks he’s in your belly, and rears back, sucking a glob of spit to his lips and launching it into your mouth, just as he floods your pussy with cum. He jerks inside you, slow strokes, and you hang limply against him, fucked out, still drunk, docile as a lamb.

You hiss when he pulls free and lurch forward against his chest, not able to stand on your own. “C’mon, let’s get you a bath.” He murmurs into your hair, and you protest weakly.

“My glasses.”

“I’ll find ‘em.” He vows, patting their safe spot in his front pocket. “Don’t worry.”

[mydarlingclaudia]

just you and me, alone in the dark

note : divider is from @/thecutestgrotto. ermmm idrk. Leon is ooc again I know, I’m trying to write a few Leon summer fics over the next few weeks, if you have any ideas please let me know I only have like two more 😔 mdni

wc : 3.8k

tags : @lottiies

desc : Leon’s back in town, that couldn’t be too hard on the gigantic crush you have on your best friend, right? friends to lovers, smut!! - unprotected p in v, little bit of fingering. not proofread, fem!reader, post re2r!Leon

Leon was back home for one week this summer, he’s been a cop in Raccoon City for almost a year now, the two of you have been calling and writing each other, trying to keep up with each others lives, but it’s nothing like being face-to-face again. You’ve been hosting him at your house for the past few days, Leon’s been going to catch up with a few other friends, but he’s always back at your place by at least midnight.

It wasn’t like when you were kids. Some of your friends had moved away, that arcade a mile or two away that you and Leon would always walk to had closed down and was now a fancy restaurant, the old lady who ran the laundromat and would give the two of you quarters for the arcade games had passed away. But your crush on Leon had stayed, maybe even grew a bit. The two of you had been changing bit by bit, too. Leon was a big city cop now, and compared to him, you felt like the friend who went to college and immediately ran back home.

Leon’s always been handsome to you, but since leaving for the academy and becoming an actual cop, he looks more grown-up. Seeing him in the mornings, his hair all messy and still half-asleep, was proving to be a problem. Along with when the two of you would watch movies at night, sitting shoulder-to-shoulder, sharing whatever food you were eating like you did when you were kids.

You’re starting to think that Leon might like you back.

You catch the way his eyes follow you when you walk through the house with wet hair, damp skin, and clothes that cling to your skin just a bit more after you get out of the shower. Or how he scoots closer to you when you both sit down together. Especially when he accidentally hugged you goodnight the second night he was over and pulled away with a red face. Not that you really mind being close to him, or his attraction to you.

Anyway, Leon’s leaving in two days, and the two of you are going camping for the night.

It’s not gonna be anything crazy, the two of you weren’t much for setting up tents and rocky roads riddled with pot-holes and roadkill. You’re staying the night at a smaller campground, there’s a lake, a playground for any kids there, and a camp store. There’s no need to bring a tent unless you’ve got more than three people with you. Each campsite comes with a small shelter that can hold a few people, each shelter has three walls and a roof, the opening faces the site.

Leon and you would come here with your family when you were kids, it was only an hour away from where you lived, the two of you wanted something a bit more fun to do than sit around at your house or go to dinner.

Leon hasn’t gone camping since before he left for the police academy, not that what the two of you are doing is anything difficult. But there’s no hotdogs cooked over the fire, just a pizza you had picked up a few hours ago and s’mores.

There’s chocolate around Leon’s lips as he chews on his s’more, yours goes ignored for a few minutes as you stare at him. The fire in front of you is low, you and Leon face it and lean back against the table part of the wooden bench, your knees knocking together.

“I know I got shit on my face.” He says to you, turning to look at you as he licks the marshmallow off of his fingers.

You smile at him and shake your head softly, taking a small bite of your s’more. “I’m just looking at you.” Leon only giggles, wiping his mouth with his palm.

“You’ve had plenty of time to look at me.”

“I know that, doesn’t mean I have to stop. And besides, you look at me all the time.”

“Yeah, that’s because I’m talking to you, you just stare at me sometimes.”

“Because I missed you terribly, and I’m happy to have you back home.” You joke a little bit, finishing off the dessert in your hand. “I’m still gonna miss you when you go back to the city.”

“Well, maybe you wouldn’t miss me so much if you came to visit every once-in-a-while. You know it wouldn’t kill you to drive three hours to see me. You’d like the city, anyway.” Leon scooted even closer to you and nudged your shoulder with his, still keeping his eyes on you.

“I know, I know. Just goddamn, I don’t get why you couldn’t have been a local sheriff or deputy or some shit. You could give me parking tickets everyday.” You laugh, his smile drops a little.

“Raccoon City is as good as it gets for me, I could give you parking tickets everyday of the year if you lived there.”

You drop a hand to his knee, squeezing it gently and leaning in closer to him. “Hey, I wasn’t trying to be mean. I know the city’s a big deal for you, and I’m really, really happy for you. You worked really hard.”

“You flatter me,” Leon’s smile brightened a bit again, your heart fluttered. “You haven’t seen me in action yet.”

“Yeah? And what exactly is ‘action’ for you? Helping old ladies cross the street? Maybe pulling someone over for speeding?” You chuckle, letting go of his knee and pushing against him.

“God, when did you get so mean?” Leon snickered and rolled his eyes, grabbing your bicep and pushing you away from him.

“Oh, come on, I’m supposed to be mean to you, that’s what best friends do. You’ve never complained before.”

“Yeah, you complain constantly when I do it.”

“Because boys aren’t supposed to be mean to girls. That’s the rule, aren’t you supposed to know all the rules, officer?”

“Don’t call me that!” Leon laughs, pushing you further away. “Listen, just- just come over. I just wanna see you, even if it’s for a couple of hours. I miss you a lot.”

You can feel your heart clench a little at his words. You know he means it, he’s always tried to come over and visit when he was able to, even when he was in the academy. You just didn’t want to be a bother to him, he’s living his dream, and you don’t want to get in the way of it.

“I’ll try, I promise. Maybe I can come over for a weekend in September.”

“Good, I’ll hold you to it. I was starting to think you didn’t like me anymore.” He jested, turning his gaze to the fire that was almost completely gone now.

“Jesus, don’t say that. I’ll always like you.”

That caught him off guard a little bit, you watched as his cheeks turned red and how his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as he swallowed.

“That- that’s good.”

You smile at him, scooting closer once again and bringing your hand to rest on his shoulder to shake him gently. “Don’t forget it.” There’s a pause. Leon looks back up to you from the fire, his eyes bore into yours for a few long seconds before they trail down to your lips. It doesn’t go unnoticed. “Let’s go to the lake, it’s fun to swim when it’s getting dark.”

—

Leon had raced you back to your campsite three hours later and won. It was dark now, nearing eleven p.m., the fire was now completely out and all the other campers were asleep. The campground is illuminated by streetlights placed sparingly along the road, you can hardly see anything on your site besides your car and the outside of your shelter.

The lake had been fun, it was different from when you’d come here together a decade ago and push each other off the dock and into the water, but it was fun in a new kind of way. Luckily, there weren’t many people there due to the late hour, not that either of you would’ve really stopped even if it had been packed. Yours and Leon’s swimsuits cling to your skin, you probably would’ve run the race, but once he got in front of you you couldn’t tear your gaze away from the way his back muscles looked when they were wet.

“Fuck, I didn’t set up my air mattress.” You chuckle as you follow Leon into your campsites shelter, shuffling your bare feet along the ground to try to keep yourself from tripping.

“Well, hurry up then.” He giggles but waves you off, his back turned to you as he runs his towel over his wet hair once again. You scoff at him half-heartedly, turning away and going to get your air mattress out of the trunk of your car.

You discover that Leon’s air mattress is bigger than yours once you finally pull it back into the shelter and lay it down next to his. The air-pump is already attached to the nozzle, Leon sits at the bench and watches as you try to inflate the mattress.

“This isn’t working,” You groan, rising up from your squatting position and letting go of the air-pump to shake your arms free of the strain. Leon just shrugs at you, you roll your eyes and squat down again, patting down the air mattress, looking for rips, and you find one that you can fit your entire fist inside. You groan again, more loudly this time. “My mattress is trashed, I don’t have tape or any patches that’ll fix this.”

Leon rises from his seat at the bench, stepping into the shelter along side you and looking down at your air mattress. “You can share with me.”

“Really? You sure?”

“Yeah, of course. I don’t mind, it’s probably gonna be a bit colder tonight, anyway.” Leon offers you a small smirk, offering a hand to you to help you stand up.

“Thanks,” You say as you take his hand, he pulls you to your feet, holding onto your hand for a second before he pulls away. The two of you put your hands on your hips at the same time, glancing around the site. “I gotta get changed.”

“Alright,”

“I don’t wanna walk all the way to the bathroom, though.” You sigh, Leon chuckles and looks towards you.

“You gonna change here?”

“Yeah,” You don’t miss how his face drops slightly, the color returning to his cheeks. “Can you hold the flashlight for me?”

“Wh-“ He cuts himself off when you reach for the hem of your wet shirt, already pulling it up over your head and revealing the one piece you wore underneath.

“You don’t gotta look at me, dumbass. Just hold it so I can see what I’m doing.” You don’t see Leon nod, but you see the bright flashlight turn on and shine against you. You drop your wet shirt to the ground and reach for the straps of your swimsuit, beginning to pull it down over your shoulders.

You make the mistake of glancing over at Leon, he hadn’t turned away in the slightest, his gaze was locked onto you like it was absolutely necessary for him to watch you undress. Despite this, you don’t stop. You don’t know if he saw you look at him, but he keeps watching you as you begin to peel to wet swimsuit off your body.

He swallows thickly, his Adam’s apple goes up and down once again as he does so. The flashlight in his hand shakes slightly as you pull the swimsuit off your body completely.

Leon looks back up at your face for the first time and immediately winces, his free hand goes to his eyes as if to cover it and pretend he hadn’t seen you fully naked.

“Leon-“

“No, I-I’m sorry. You just- no, goddamnit, that was- shit, y-you’re just really pretty and I-I get it if you’re mad.“ His apology stumbles out of his mouth, his face is even more flushed and his hand that he had moved to cover his eyes now runs through his damp hair. You trail your eyes up and down his body, unsure where to focus, but your gaze keeps landing on the tent forming in his swim trunks.

“I’m not mad.”

“… S-Seriously?” Leon’s gaze meets yours again, he looks a little dumbfounded and awestruck, you can’t help but grin at him.

“No.”

“Oh,” He chuckles awkwardly, clearing his throat and looking down at his feet. “This is just k-kinda embarrassing.”

“… Sorry.” You mumble, looking from him out at the dark campsite.

“What? No- don’t apologize. You just look pretty, I mean, you’ve always been really fucking pretty and I’m just looking at you like- God, I don’t even know. Just don’t apologize.”

“Thanks,” You look back at him, you can’t help the smile on your face when he calls you pretty.

“I mean it, I’ve thought you were the prettiest since like, high school.”

“Actually?”

“Yeah. I don’t wanna sound weird or anything, but I’ve always kinda… liked you? Like, more than a-a friend. And I’m sorry for telling you this when you’re naked in front of me, I just-“ You don’t let Leon finish his sentence, shutting him up with a kiss instead of letting him get his thoughts out.

He melts against you almost instantly, his hands finding their way to your hips as the flashlight is discarded onto the floor. Your hands anchor themselves in his hair, keeping his head in place as the kiss goes on for another five seconds before the two of you split apart for air.

“I should’ve asked, I’m sorry-“ Your own apology is cut short when Leon pulls you against him even closer, kissing you again but only for two seconds.

“I told you not to say sorry.” You smile at him, your hands moving from his hair to the back of his neck. Before you can even stop yourself, your lips attach themselves to his neck, kissing and sucking along the skin you find there.

Leon groans, his fingers dig into the flesh of your hips as his head tilts back to give you more skin to work with, which you happily accept. Your hands move again, this time going from his neck to graze over his bare chest. Leon takes that as a sign to move his hands, leaving your hips to grip just underneath your ass. You giggle and push yourself up against him more, he gives a soft chuckle in response.

“This okay with you?” He asks, one hand moves up to cup your ass and squeeze it gently.

“Yeah, it’d be better if we weren’t standing, though.” You pull away from him, his grip on you loosens as he takes your hint and sits himself on the ground at the foot of his air mattress.

You wanted to straddle his lap, but when you lower yourself down to do so, Leon grabs hold of your hips once again and flips you so the upper half of your back rests on top of his air mattress as he hovers over you. He kisses you again, this time tracing the seam of your lips with his tongue to ask for entry. That doesn’t take any negotiation for you, his tongue meets yours, your arms find their way around his neck as he lowers himself down on top of you more, your breasts pressing against his chest.

“We need to be quiet,” You whisper to him once you pull away from his lips.

“Everyone’s asleep by now, and there’s only like, two other campsites near us.” He chuckles slightly, pulling back a few inches to get a better look at you.

“Leon.” You scold quietly, his chuckle turns into a snicker as his hands find their ways up to your breasts.

“Okay, okay,” Leon shakes his head slightly as he brushes his thumbs over your nipples. “Don’t ruin my fun just yet, I’ve been wanting to do this for years.”

“Have you now?” Your arms kissed around his neck, you push yourself further into his touch.

“You’ve got no idea,” He looks up from where your tits rest in his hands to your face, leaning in to kiss you again. The kiss goes on for what feels like thirty minutes before one of your arms unwraps itself from his neck and goes down to the hem of his swim trunks, you tug on it lightly.

Leon pulls back to look at you, his hands leave your breasts to rest on your thighs. The teasing smile on his face is gone, now replaced with a look of concern.

“You’re absolutely sure you’re okay with this?”

“Absolutely.” You smile at him, you cup his face in your hands and give him a small peck on the lips, feeling him smile against your mouth as his hands leave your thighs to pull down his trunks. Leon’s hands are back on you two seconds later, dipping in between your thighs to run his fingers through your slick folds.

“Fuck,” He murmurs, leaning his head down to press kisses to your cheek as his thumb presses against your clit, gently probing against your entrance with his middle finger. You whine softly, it only seems to spur him on, he gently pushes his finger inside you, continuing the soft amount of pressure on your clit. “You’re really pretty.”

“You keep saying that.” You giggle a little bit, your hands move to rest on his shoulders as your head tips to the right.

“Because I mean it.” You’re not sure why he groans, but he does once his finger slides deeper inside of you. “I missed you so much, I didn’t think that this was gonna happen when I came back to town, but I’m so happy it is.”

“M-Me too,” You agree a bit breathlessly, Leon’s kisses trail down to your throat as his pointer finger slowly joins his middle finger. You’re not even really sure how to feel right now, you’ve been craving this for so long, maybe not in a campground with a shelter that hardly concealed any noise, but you really hoped that this wasn’t going to be where things ended for you and Leon.

Leon’s kisses turns into gentle bites as his ministrations continue and the pressure on your clit increases. You bite down on your lip, trying to not let yourself get too loud, but the noises that do slip past your lips, Leon responds to with his own.

“Leon, please.” Your small whimper makes him stop, his fingers come to a halt inside you and he pulls back again to look down at your face.

“You sure?” You only close your eyes and nod, your nails dig into the skin of his shoulders as you wait. “Okay, I got you, I- I’m gonna be gentle.”

His fingers slip out of you, you whine quietly at the loss, earning a tiny snort from him as he pulls back to sit on his knees, keeping one hand attached to your thigh, longing himself up with your entrance. Leon pushes in slowly, watching your face and how your mouth falls open at the intrusion. He lets you adjust for maybe fifteen seconds before he starts moving slowly, keeping one hand on your thigh and slipping the other underneath your back to hold you up a bit.

“Holy shit, you feel s-so good.” He mumbles to you, biting down on his own lip to keep his groans from getting too loud. You nod, unable to find any words to respond with while you begin rocking your hips gently to try and meet his movements.

Leon’s thrusts don’t get much faster than this, he’s trying his best to be gentle and quiet, you’re sure it would be a different story if you were back home. You let your whines get a bit louder as you let the feeling of him pushing in and out of you take over, the soft squelching noises don’t help.

Your hands roam over his chest and shoulders as he continues on for the next few minutes. You can’t make any complaints, you’re sure he can’t, either.

His hand that had been on your thigh had left to trail in between once again, finding your clit and circling it, letting strained pants and whimpers fall from his lips as he hovered above you. Neither of you can find words to say to each other, too focused on how the both of you feel as you move together.

After a few more minutes, the feeling coiling up in your lower abdomen is beginning to become unbearable. “L-Leon, mm fuck- Leon, ‘M gonna-“

“It’s okay, ‘M not gonna stop just y-yet.” Only then does his hips snap forward a bit harder, determined to push you over the edge.

The moan you let out when you came was louder than any other noises you had made that night, Leon seemed to appreciate it, you could tell by the grin that grew on his face as you began to calm down, not that he stopped moving. He pulled out before he came, instead, cumming on the shelter floor and your thighs, you couldn’t say that it bugged you.

The two of you laid there for maybe five minutes, trying to catch your breath as you pressed kisses against each others skin. The floor was a mess but Leon only focused on wiping his release off of you, a stupid smile was painted on his face as he did so.

After the two of you went to piss on separate sides of the site, you met back up in the shelter and actually got dressed this time around. Leon didn’t push you away when you crawled onto his air mattress with him, and he was more than happy to wrap his arms around you and share his blanket with you. Your hands rested on his shoulder blades, head pressed against his chest, listening to his heartbeat and feeling the rise and fall of his chest. One of his hands was in your hair and the other rested on the small of your back, holding you close to him.

“I don’t… want to leave you just yet.” He said quietly.

“We’ve got a couple more days.”

“No, I know. What I mean is I- I want you to come to the city with me. Just for a few days. I just wanna figure things out between us because I think there’s a lot we should probably discuss and I just really, really don’t want things to end here.” Leon’s voice was a bit louder, you could hear the slight tremble in his words as he spoke, but you didn’t look up at him.

“Would you really be okay with me coming over?”

“All I want is for you to come over. Please.”

“Alright,” You smile against his chest, closing your eyes. “Just don’t keep me waiting with your fancy job.”

“I’m sure my bosses would understand me needing to put a few things on hold for my dream girl.”

[fatehbaz]

In just eight blocks of sidewalk in quiet neighborhood, walking through the not-quite-rain of a sunshower, today I encountered four missing shoe soles. Little pieces of plastic and rubber, detached from pedestrians' shoes, now lonely on the concrete, with the weeds.

No such thing, really, as a "weed", though. "Weed" is not a botanical term. Instead, describes perceived pests, at the discretion of the observer. At the discretion of the authority. Designated as weed by the one with power over that land. The agronomist, the rancher, the plantation manager. The weed wastes space that could otherwise be given to a monoculture cash crop, an "economically significant" plant. The weed interferes with the productivity of the plot of land. The weed interrupts the extraction. The weed diminishes the value. The weed doesn't belong in this place.

People are made to be weeds, too.

Some cities will designate you as a weed, and then they'll take action to pull you out. They'll uproot you. But it's not always explicit, like "we're outlawing loitering" or "we're outlawing taking a nap in the park" or "we're defunding the library". Sometimes it's quite clever, it's written into the physical landscape. Self-congratulatory "progressive" cities learn to co-opt language, to obscure the violence, to use and abuse space.

Thinking about things you might encounter, you might perceive, after you've been destitute, broken, lived at a homeless shelter, for years. Little signs of other peoples' misery. Indicators of desperation that some might overlook. And the way that environment shapes, and is shaped by, these miseries.

A friend asks "why is there always an unusual amount of scuffed detached missing shoe soles on this particular stretch of sidewalk? There are hardly any homes around here, it's all asphalt and empty lots, so where are all these be-shoed people coming from?" Because even though this is a wide expanse without either home residences or any kind of commercial or recreation space someone would want to visit, these blocks are the straight-line direct path between a low-income apartment complex and the cluster of corporate big box stores, and there's no bus line that runs between the two areas. "But don't the vast majority of customers of shopping malls and box stores drive vehicles, hence the obscenely massive parking lots?" Sure, customers drive, but guess who actually has to work at those places? An underclass of people living at that apartment complex with harsh restrictions and cheap amenities, who can't afford car insurance or who might be too physically disabled to bike. And so that apartment complex is a de facto "company town", the residents are essentially in confinement. It is written into that landscape. It can be read. "Why is there always debris, wrappers, coins, etc. in this particular quiet couple of blocks of the boulevard?" Because these blocks are between a thrift store and a same-day drop-in clinic, so many impoverished people will routinely be walking between these two locations. They attend their appointment, and then have forty-five minutes to kill before the bus comes back around, so why not check out the thrift store? The city and county collaborated and placed all the low-income assistance offices on the far side of town, which conveniently forces the poor and disabled to both stay away from the luxurious downtown district and also to waste their time making a four-hour commute, catching various connecting buses or else riding the bikepath, across the city just to attend a ten-minute-long appointment.

Then this spatial layout, this city's physical environment, will shape the physical body. This violence writes itself into the flesh. The way the denim is chafed and discolored on the left shoulder of someone's jacket from carrying a small backpack around by foot, day after day after day. The way someone's heart rate increases when they see a white and black vehicle in the periphery of their vision, subconsciously recollecting institutionalization and institutional abuse, or fearing what a ticket fee would mean for their budget (they might not be able to afford rent). The way someone develops a painful limp, maybe occasionally depends on a cane, because they had to walk great distances every day to get to work and their shoe sole fell off on the sidewalk, but they can't replace the shoes because their employer is underpaying them, and they're forced to stand all day at work anyway, and they already had some modest nerve damage in their foot because they've been rationing their insulin and can't afford their prescriptions, and federal medical insurance keeps denying them because their physical letters in the mail always show up too late or not at all, and groceries are too expensive so it's hard to get good nutrition to heal, but the diabetic nerve damage has by now damaged their digestive tract too so they have a strictly limited bland diet and can't enjoy the simple pleasure of a home-cooked meal (if they can even afford a home, at this point), and all those "little" miseries add up, and now they're hungry, and in pain, because they were forced to walk kinda funny for a long time over all those decaying sidewalks with all those other weeds.

[itsdannycragg]

Hi Tumblr!

I logged da fuck off at some point and will continue to be very much so not on social media! Believe me when I tell you life is better on the other side.

I do want to pop in with a life update for the curious!

I'm out here in Durham, NC, and three years after moving here with Shelby and Brian, I can confidently say there isn't a place in the world I'd rather put my roots down.

I never knew what actual community looked or felt like until I came here. I'd made friends in town everywhere I'd lived, of course, and we would go out to eat or on a vacation, visit a gallery or something, but in Durham it's just different. Looking out the window during a car ride, chatting with a stranger in a grocery store, checking out a thrift shop or going to the library, I find myself declaring "I love living here..." the same compulsive way I tell my partners I love them. Durham isn't just a place I live, it's where I belong.

I've been calling myself an ex-cartoonist, and preaching the nightmare of trying to make art for infinite-profit focused megacorps. It's not that I didn't love making cartoons, it's that I did. It may not be that way for everyone, but for me, working a job I loved meant I was working every second of my life. Being an artist is a core part of my heart and soul, and near the end, I had become so burnt out I would spend hours just trying to start doing the work I used to fly out of bed excited to do.

So I did some of this and that, worked a retail job that fucked my hands up so bad that I had to have double carpal tunnel release surgery. 29 years as an artist and I get carpal tunnel from hefting around boxes in a warehouse!

Since then, I've pivoted into building a career as a graphic designer. (And I'm learning web dev too!) I'm getting involved in the local nonprofit scene, meeting so many incredible people and finding so many cool and exciting opportunities to focus my design work on community awareness, nonprofits, small businesses!! I didn't expect that to be so viable for a Graphic Designer. I had the misconception for a long time that I'd have to put my creative sensibilities aside for more dry, sensible corporate phooey. But there's so much more. Graphic design is truly a delight and a challenge! I have always enjoyed thinking critically about all forms of human creation. Why am I so drawn to this book cover? What makes that building so weird? Why do these casserole mix boxes piss me off? Why does that person's outfit look so fucking awesome?

Taking those thoughts and using them to inform how I approach design is an entirely different beast from animating and illustrating. I'm fighting for my life out there formatting text, morphing vectors and and scooting things around a comp until it works. A picture's worth a thousand words, but you don't have space for a thousand words in a graphic design. Condense! Condense! It's challenging, and a lot of fun.

Working as a cartoonist was my dream come true, and I am forever proud of and thankful for the part I have played in the history of animation and queer representation in entertainment. I had the privilege of having the life crisis I had at 21— "I never thought I'd get this far. What more could I want? What do I do now?"

Well, a decade later I confidently know what comes after having my dreams come true. I get older, and I experience new things, meet new people, struggle paying bills, endure all kinds of misfortunes and problems, and come out the other side astounded and proud to have survived it. Grow closer to my family friends and community as the years deepen our history together, and just be amazed and thankful that I made it this far, over and over.

It's funny being called old by my younger friends, because I have never felt so young in my life! I JUST cracked 30. There are so many things I haven't done yet, and so many things I don't know that I don't know yet. And I have the power to take ALL of this and to create art about it. Hopy shit!

Speaking of making art and sharing it, one of the reasons I'm excited to be learning web dev is so I can carve out places online where I can share anything and everything I want to. Media Crit, comics, essays, comics, illos, however I want to present it. I'll share it when I get the site running. Or maybe I wont and you'll have to find it by chance.

And of course, I'm still actively writing Neokosmos with Shelby and Brian, and doing other little things here and there. :) See ya when I see ya, Danny

[songmingisthighs]

Let Go

group : ateez

pairing : ex boyfriend!idoll!yunho × reader

genre : angst

wc : 4.3 k

tw : break up, angst, accident , dark theme (do not read if you're susceptible to dark thoughts)

a/n : i got this idea from reading @nonclassyparty's series, the 'subtle variations of heartbreak' particularly the yunho one and I'm not in a mentally good place so ofc i thought about this lmao

buy me coffee ?

Yunho was never one to loom in the past. His motto had always been 'just keep swimming' so he made sure that whatever happened in his life, he would go with it and just face it like a man. That was why people thought Yunho was so perfect, he had no regrets. But they would be wrong. Out of all the things in the world, there was one thing he regretted the most and being back at the place where it all began stirred something in Yunho. Maybe it was a mix of nostalgia and guilt, but whatever it is, the pain was a bit addicting as it allowed him to indulge in the memory of you.

It was around the time he graduated from high school. Everyone was excited to go forward, most of his friends had passed the college entrance exam while some had decided to continue their family business. That was what people expected from his town which was why when Yunho announced that he was going to focus on being an idol and move to the heart of the country, people were thrilled.

One of those people was you.

You had been Yunho's rock ever since you both started dating in the 9th grade, sticking together through thick and thin, you with your studies and Yunho with his training. It was hard but you both made it work and you both became the school's power couple, the couple who will end up together no matter what. In fact, you had been the one encouraging Yunho to pursue training no matter the distance while you helped as best as you could. So you both really had gone through everything including fights because you both were tired, had doubts over the future, and bad exam results from your hakwon and his monthly evaluation. You both wet through all that and still stuck together.

So it made sense that even after you got accepted to a prestigious university in KAIST, you still made plans to be in Yunho's life. Little did you know, he wasn't planning the same.

It was one afternoon and you were scrolling through your course catalogue with your mom while discussing how to move your things to the dorm in two weeks time when there was a knock on the front door, surprising you and your mom. But it wasn't a surprise to see Yunho on the other side with a small smile on his face. You noticed that he had been rather gloomy this past couple of weeks and you thought that it was because he was sad that he was going to be separated from you. Well, in a sense he was.

"Hi Mrs. (y/l/n), can I borrow (y/n) for a while?" Yunho politely asked for permission which had become some sort of redundant request since your mom would actually be the one to encourage you two to spend more time together. Even though you lived on the same street, your mom knew that as youngsters in love, no amount of time is enough time, especially with what's just up ahead. So it didn't really surprise you when your mom practically pushed you out the door and told you to not worry about coming home late, she had even given you and Yunho some money to spend.

So you both found yourselves walking side-by-side with ice cream in your hands. You both got an ice cream cone of your favourite flavours. But not even the sweetness of the treat managed to melt the sourness off of Yunho's face. You had even tried to hold Yunho's hand as you both walked slowly from the convenience store but he was too deep in his thought to even notice. Heck, he was too deep in his thought to utter a single word.

Just as you were about to ask him what was wrong, Yunho abruptly halted his steps and turned to look at you.

"We need to break up," he stated.

For a moment you thought you heard wrong so you tried chuckling it off, "Um, what?" you asked awkwardly, feeling your heartbeat rising. Yunho sighed and stood firm, "We need to break up," he repeated, the same intonation and cadence making him seem so robotic and detached. But even then you recognize the seriousness which caused your eyebrows to furrow, "Wait, what the hell? Why? Where is this coming from?" Without wavering, Yunho looked directly into your eyes determinedly, "We are about to journey our own paths. Let's not hold each other back," and you couldn't help but get more confused, "Hold each other back? What- Where- How-," it was obvious that the logic alludes you because you had planned the perfect strategy to still maintain your relationship with Yunho while he was preparing for his debut and you for your education.

Then an idea hit you.

"Did the company ask you to break up with me?" Now it was Yunho who furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "Did you tell them before we could make a plan on how to tell them?" you added.

You both were well aware that once Yunho's debut date got nearer you two would have to press pause on the relationship in a way. You both knew that it was unrealistic for an idol to be dating not because he was trying to put his fans first but more because you didn't want his dedication to stray. You knew how a relationship can cause someone to lose sight of their goal and Yunho would be sharing his goal with apparently seven other people, one whom you've grown to like as he was just like the gentle giant of a boyfriend you had. So you both were planning on telling the company together, trusting them to protect Yunho and should it come down to it, you as well.

"No, they don't even know I'm dating anyone. But you made a good point, I don't feel comfortable going through a commitment with my agency with this big of a secret weighing me down."

The words Yunho used hurt you because first, he insinuated that he WANTED the breakup not because you two should and then he was basically saying that you were in the way.

So you scoffed and crossed your arms on your chest, standing up to him, "So I'm a burden now?" Even during your previous fights with Yunho, he'd know when he'd struck a nerve and he would either take it back or explain what he actually meant. But the sigh he let out before answering you gave you the chills and not the good ones. "If you're going to act this way then yes, I think you're a burden now." You didn't know how Yunho was able to say such things to you so easily because you know for a fact that had it been you in his position, no matter the situation, you wouldn't have been able to say something with such gravity towards someone you know you live with what you can only discern as nonchalance.

If Yunho felt bad at the way you reacted to his harsh words, shoulders slumped and eyes glassy, he was doing a particularly great job at hiding it. Even as you sniffled and wiped some stray tears away, the look on Yunho's face didn't change. It wasn't like you were expecting for him to change his mind or take back his words just because you were looking so pathetic, but you didn't expect him to seem so detached either.

"Look, this was bound to happen anyways, (y/n), you know it. We had agreed that we would pause our relationship when-" "PAUSE, Yunho, not BREAK UP!" you cut him off, this time unable to hold your emotion at bay. "Well, why wait? Why do we have to wait to take a pause when I FINALLY debuted? Even then, why should we hang onto each other, hovering in uncertainties for God knows how long? I don't want to live like that, (y/n), not when I'm leaving tonight!"

As if things weren't already so abrupt and surprising for you, you were thrown with the newest revelation. The plan was for you two to leave home on the same day, preventing the other to remain in loneliness in the place you both shared so many memories with. But truly, this was a betrayal on top of more betrayal.

Considering the situation Yunho had put you in, it was hard to not believe that Yunho didn't care at all about you. In the past 10 minutes, he had hurt you more than anyone else ever did in your life and you just want to get away.

So you did.

You took a step back and sighed in defeat, looking at him for what you thought would be the last time ever, "Well then, I wish you the luck you deserve, Yunho. Truly, I hope your decision stays with you longer than you allowed me to." With that, you turned around and walked back home alone, crying the whole way, leaving Yunho in his spot to let the reality of what happened sink in. He never expected you to react well, he was breaking up with you or goodness sake, but he never expected the situation to taste so bitter in his mouth. All he could do was hope that it was truly for the best. Regret be damned.

"So how are the boys, Yunho?" his mom asked, smiling at her eldest as he slurped down his noodles. Yunho took a moment to chew his food properly before answering, "They're great. We've been so busy with work, we don't even have time to argue properly," he joked, making his parents laugh, "How's Gunho? How's the house?" The question made his mom roll her eyes, "You wouldn't have to ask if you come home! We've moved to the new neighbourhood for two years already and you barely spent two weeks in total!" because home is not home when (y/n) is not around, "Sorry mom, my schedule is very unpredictable so I can't really do anything about it." Thankfully, his dad chimed in, nodding along, "He's right honey, you know Yoo Seunghwan's son, the one working at that corporation thing, he's worked so hard that he couldn't even stay back during that school reunion! You remember that, right Yunho?" of course Yunho remembered. It was the first high school reunion and Yunho had to reject the invitation, saying that he was expected to go abroad around that time when in fact, he didn't want to face you. Not since the last time he saw you. And it wasn't even that time he broke up with you in front of the convenience store.

In all honesty, Yunho had been thinking about you nonstop these past couple of months. It had been years since Yunho saw, talked, or even heard about you. He became irrational, actively avoiding people just so he wouldn't know how much you thrived without him while he remembered the night of his debut when he cried himself to sleep and had to be consoled by San, Mingi, and Wooyoung who thought he was emotional over the achievement when in fact he was crying because he had worked so hard for the debut and that he wouldn't have been ab;e to go that far had it not been for your support but now that the moment arrived, he couldn't share it with you. It was then that he realized how badly he fucked up by breaking things off with you so coldly. You meant so much to him but he let stress get the best of him so much so that he took it out on you. He could still remember the way you looked at him and no, it wasn't that time he broke up with you in front of the convenience store.

"Do you guys know what happened to (y/n)?"

Yunho froze when he realized he had accidentally blurted out the question. He had wondered internally, of course but he didn't mean to ask it out loud. He was about to take it back when he saw the way his parents looked at each other weirdly.

"What?" He asked, curious, "Do you guys know something?" he pressed, now curious. While his dad avoided his gaze, his mom was looking at him with pity in her eyes.

"Oh my God, she got married didn't she?" Yunho choked, feeling his heart clench so painfully, thinking that he had lost you to another man. Not that it should have meant anything to Yunho considering he was the one who tossed you aside so easily.

His mom frantically tried to calm him down, disliking the distressed look on her son's face. "No, no, no, no, no, honey, no! It's nothing like that, believe me! It's just..." she trailed off, slapping his dad on the arm to make him look at her. One stern look and he sighed, relenting and nodding, "I guess he should know. It's about time," he said. Yunho stared at his parents with furrowed eyebrows, "Know about what?" he asked, but his mom only smiled sadly, "We'll take you there after this." The way they were acting and speaking made Yunho worry and he started internally blaming himself for not trying to get an update about you sooner. It would have probably been a better idea for him to still keep in touch but again, the pain of remembering that it was his fault that the whole thing even happened in the first place was more than he could bear. He was being so pathetic.

The rest of the lunch was concluded rather quickly after that and soon enough Yunho found himself in the backseat of his parents' car.

Another wave of nostalgia washed over him as he watched over the road, remembering the last time he had passed the same street which was the same day he broke up with you. The very last time he had seen you with his own two eyes, shrouded in the darkness of the night but still very much visible to his eyes.

Yunho decided not to dilly-dally, shoved everything he needed to bring into the trunk of his parent's car, and slammed the door shut. At the same time, he turned around to get back inside the house to call for his parents, he saw you slamming the door of your house and speed-walking to the other side of the road as if trying to get away in a rush. Had it been any other time, Yunho would've rushed to your side and done whatever he had to do to make you smile again. But his convictions solidified his decision and hardened his heart so instead of rushing to you, he simply turned and went on with his plan.

Yunho thought that it would be hard to decide to pretend to not care about you. Well, he was correct on that because his mind was plagued by the distraught look on your face. sure he only saw it for less than 5 seconds, but the impact was greater than he could imagine. It didn't help that the car drove in the exact same path you took and Yunho kept wondering what you might be thinking about. Pathetic.

The constant questions of you in his head halted the moment he saw a familiar figure in a familiar spot. His eyes had been so used to your figure that it just immediately recognized you sitting in the spot you both had claimed. Yunho immediately got reminded of the time you both ducked there to shield yourselves from the scorching summer sun, the time the two of you were joking around too much that you accidentally pushed each other into the deep pond, causing you both to be fished out and scolded by the authorities, and although it was a bad idea, the time you two found shelter during a harsh rain with thunders that terrified you but you told him that you felt safer because he was with you. The memories didn't help Yunho. In fact, it made him feel nauseated, almost vomiting in the car from the mixed feelings. He didn't want to admit it then but the guilt was gnawing at his insides so ruthlessly, he thought it was simply him finally experiencing a break-up and that the feeling was normal.

Almost comically, as the car's headlights illuminated your figure, you turned around and your eyes stared straight into Yunho's. Not that you knew because you were practically blinded. On the other hand, Yunho could see the redness on your face and the tears streaming down your cheeks so clearly that the pain that was already plaguing his heart increased tenfold.

"Yunho, dear, isn't that (y/n)?" His mom asked.

Time moved slowly for him and in that duration, he was able to carve the brokenhearted look on your face in his mind. But even then, Yunho only averted his gaze and softly muttered a reply to his mom, "Yeah, that's her." Sensing that he didn't want to talk about it, his parents kept quiet and drove on, allowing Yunho to his own thoughts.

"What are we doing here?" Yunho asked as he got out of the car, nervously looking around the park where he last saw you. The parking space they took was not far from your spot. Heck, he could see the tree from where he was standing.

"You remember the last time you saw (y/n)?" His mom linked her arm around Yunho's and she slowly started to lead him forward, obviously going towards the spot while his dad walked alongside him on his other side.

The night I ignored her crying at our spot. "Yeah, I broke up with her in front of the convenience store," he lied. His mom shook her head, "No, sweetie. We were driving you to move into your dorm when we passed by her, right in this park, over there by the tree," she pointed, not realizing that Yunho knew damn well what she was talking about. "Oh..." Yunho couldn't help but duck his head in shame, the closer the spot got, the harder it was for him to keep his emotions in check and it was almost impossible when his dad placed a hand on his shoulder. "We don't have to do this if you don't want to. I only suggested it because I think you deserve to know," his dad said.

Anxiety bubbled in Yunho's chest, he didn't like the way his parents were talking as if something had happened to you.

"You guys are freaking me out, what-"

His voice died in his throat the moment they arrived at the spot. What was usually a clear spot with grass under the big tree now had a small spot seemingly dedicated to something, trinkets littered the spot; small ones like beaded bracelets and bigger ones like some very familiar plushies, But on top of them all, the picture of you stood out the most to Yunho.

"What's this?" Yunho asked, voice wavering slightly as his eyes continuously scanned the area. Deep down he already knew what happened, but he didn't want to believe it. He couldn't believe it.

His mom was already tearing up the moment they got there, reliving her memories when she had heard about you. Seeing this, his father stepped up.

"I'm sorry to say this, son. (y/n)... She's gone. She died," he stated with a voice so emotional and so soft, that Yunho almost thought that he was hallucinating.

"Wh- when- How? How long ago was this?" he asked, glassy eyes finally lifted from the trinkets to look at his dad, seeking answers and hope. Though reluctant, his dad decided that he couldn't let another minute go by without letting Yunho know as he had been kept away from the information long enough.

"That day we drove you to your dorm. (y/n) had an accident."

There it was, the loud crack of his world-shattering.

You had been crying yourself since you came back from the convenience store. Heart broken, hopes shattered, it didn't help that your mom had attempted to console you. Her kind words and caring treatment only made you feel worse which was why you felt the need to escape reality, you wanted to wallow to yourself for just a while before you were told that everything was going to be okay because it wasn't. It was absolutely not okay for you and you needed to not be okay first before you could be okay again.

Despite fearing running into Yunho, you pushed past the fear and ran straight out, going to the first place you could think of where you could be safe with your feelings. You had cried so much that you couldn't even cry properly anymore, only silent tears as pain engulfed you whole. It was hard to breathe and it felt like it was hard to go on living. It wasn't just the fact that you were broken up with, it was the fact that it was Yunho who had broken up with you in such a ruthless way. As much as you hated to admit it, you couldn't help but feel like it was as if he had used you. For what, you didn't know, you no longer knew what to think because first, you thought that you and Yunho were solid but apparently that was utter bullshit, then you thought that you and Yunho had a plan but apparently, he had one of his own that he preferred, and lastly, you thought that you and Yunho could go through anything but apparently, the fact that each of you had different paths planned was enough to break everything.

As if life wasn't making such a joke out of you enough, you saw Yunho's car coming your way. The headlights blinded you and you weren't sure what was going on inside. But for some odd reason, the blinding lights were enough to numb you completely from all the senses there is. For a moment, you couldn't see anything and all you could hear was the ringing in your ear but it felt comforting.

Without you realizing it, you head moved too close to the edge of the grass and slipped into the pond. The cold rendered you inanimate and the water engulfed you completely. At first splash, reality hit that you had fallen into the pond but soon the cold water provided some pressure that felt like a hug to you. The darkness and the way the water blocked sounds other than the comforting sloshes of water pulled you into a realm of otherworldly tranquillity and in that moment you made a decision that would alter your life forever.

You decided to let go.

This time, at the same spot you mourned over your heart, Yunho found himself mourning over his love. His love that was lost. His love that HE let loose.

"They found her body in the morning, her parents thought she had gone to one of her friend's houses considering the state she was in when she left, they didn't think to worry until the police found her right here," his dad explained, he too was crying at the memory of finding out what had happened to you.

Yunho's knees buckled and he staggered to find support on the tree that held a lot of the memories you both shared. "W-why didn't I know this? She was g-gone for so long, how- how did I not know?" Yunho was stuttering, his mind working doubles trying to make sense of things. His mom crouched down next to him and grabbed his hand, "You were starting your journey, sweetie, we didn't want you to stray because of this. Also," his mom paused to look up at his dad who could only nod at her slowly, "(y/n)'s parents asked us to not tell you that early. They told us that (y/n) had did her best supporting you throughout everything, wanting nothing more than you to succeed in your own path so they don't want to jeopardize her dedication. They want to make sure her efforts paid off."

It wasn't as if Yunho had hoped to hear something that would make him feel better because he knew nothing in the world would. He had been so horrible to you that last day and he had been so horrible after that by actively not trying to get to know how you were. His pride should not have mattered to him so much so he settled with just not knowing how you were. That was not something he was supposed to do. More and more, he regretted the way he treated you that final day and how he had been so unfair to you. No amount of tears and no matter how loud he cried would make up for what he had done and he believed that your demise was his fault. Had he stopped the car that night to acknowledge you even for just a moment, maybe the situation would have been different. Maybe he wouldn't have lost you.

Lost you.

That was ironic since he was the one who pushed you away. He broke you in your final moments.

And now, Yunho was left unable to properly apologize to you for what he had done. Unable to tell you how much he hated himself for what he did. Unable to tell you how you deserved way better than him. Unable to tell you how he wanted to work, no matter how hard you would make it, just so you would accept his apology.

But now all he could accept was the bitter reality that there was nothing he could do to make things right.

All he could accept was that he had let go first.

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[astroismypassion]

Hi there, I would like to know what are some indicators in a natal chart for where you should live specifically a country, town, or city. As I am getting older, I am thinking of moving out of my family's home and living by myself, and also having a job or career with work and life balance. Yeah, I'm curious where people including myself could live.

Honestly, I think you can't really tell specific city, town with astrology. Maybe more so with astrocartography. But the sign over your 4th house, planets and IC sign actually give a general idea where you would feel comfortable (especially after retirement or in the old age)

ARIES IC/4TH HOUSE

in a hot climate

somewhere sunny

with not a lot of rain

TAURUS IC/4TH HOUSE

sunny weather

somewhere where vegetables, fruits, herbs can grow

probably near a pond, lake, a small body of water that is looking nice

probably near a park, forest or near flowers, botanic garden

GEMINI IC/4TH HOUSE

honestly probably a small city, that is very "compact" (the stores are near, the market is close, the school, workplace is nearby)

around close friends

near a library, maybe even elementary or high school

CANCER IC/4TH HOUSE

just move next door to your family

in your family home where you grew up

near a sea or a place where you can go swimming

near a garden or a barbecue, picnic place

LEO IC/4TH HOUSE

this one is very extreme, either in the city, in the spotlight, where there is cinema, theatre, stores, lots of events or in the countryside, there is no inbetween with this one

VIRGO IC/4TH HOUSE

near your high school, elementary school friends

near your workplace, the company, near your job

near dentist's, a pharmacy, a gym

LIBRA IC/4TH HOUSE

near a bakery,

a restaurant, where there are clothing stores

as near as possible to your partner's home

SCORPIO IC/4TH HOUSE

dude, somewhere in the forest, just away from big crowds and too many people

i noticed from experience they end up living sometimes near a hospital or cemetry

SAGITTARIUS IC/4TH HOUSE

in a different region, state than your home

or a foreign country, but still the same continent

you might like to live in a multicultural, diverse area, you might have an age difference with your neighbours or they could be more or less educated than you

probably in the city as well, unless you are very adventurous, then the countryside

CAPRICORN IC/4TH HOUSE

near your parents

or even grandparents

near your job, workplace

you may live near a care home for elderly

you may also live near the mountains or the terrain has is very rocky, stone could be prominent

could do well in a colder climate

AQUARIUS IC/4TH HOUSE

again, one that does well in a colder climate

probably in the city though, you know where the people and the culture is

because you like busy, lively gatherings

PISCES IC/4TH HOUSE

probably another country or even different continent not gonna lie

you probably don't have much luck in your own hometown, because you're just too different or somewhat "exotic" in comparison

near a lake, sea, pool, even on the road, like in a van, camper

[robinsno1lesbian]

Can you do where reader is reading a smutty book and is ignoring robin while being to into the the book until robin takes the book and recreates the scene on reader or havens her read the book while she goes down on reader <33

𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐭𝐲 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 ⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚

- r.b. x reader

summary: everyone has their guilty pleasure. yours just happens to be a steamy sapphic romance novel. (2.6k)

warnings: SMUT!! (mdni), vaginal fingering (reader receiving), rough-ish sex, dirty talk, pet names (baby, love, good girl), slight praise kink?, established relationship, basically reader gets caught whilst horny over a sex scene in a book.

a/n: i found this in the depths of my drafts and figured it would be good enough to be posted to the summer fic collection. that being said i didn’t beta read. just made the header and called it a day. so. spelling errors are guaranteed here.

you love your girlfriend. of course you do. robin is everything you could've asked for: kind, generous and so caring with you.

everything is perfect with her: from the way the freckles on her nose look under every ray of sun that falls upon her face up to how her voice sounds when she talks. robin does a lot of talking but it would never occur to you to get annoyed by that; you love it. you could listen to her raspy voice for hours, no matter what she's actually talking about.

that's until now: for the very first time in your life you can't put all of your attention on robin buckley's voice. the sound that normally seems like music to your ears -low, husky even, and with these all too familiar cracks whenever she picks up her pace of speech- is something you can't quite focus on right now.

not because what she's talking about bores you, but because of the book you're holding up in front of your face.

you got it at a bookstore when you were out of town: you would've never been able to gather the courage to pick up such a book in the little store in hawkins. you doubt they even sell this type of book in the small town you live it.

either way, when you first saw it you knew you had to get it. you had paid for it in a rush then, all red in the face as you handed the woman behind the counter the money and quickly walked out of the shop.

now you're laying on your bed, your parents are out and the only person around is robin, who surely wouldn't judge you for reading a sapphic book.

obviously you want to make good use of this one chance you've got to read it. so, while robin was pacing back and forth through your room, you got it out from the spot where you kept it hidden under the pillows.

you're now about 25 pages into the book and, with what's currently described on the pages in front of you, it's getting harder and harder to keep a straight face.

you try to get yourself together, you really do, but you've never read anything like this before. never had the chance to, really, with the lack of representation in literature.

you almost drop the book on multiple occasions and there is a familiar heat pooling between your legs at the images your mind creates; fantasies of robin doing these exact things to you.

your current state doesn't go unnoticed by your girlfriend like you had hoped it would: "and then" she says when you turn another page. "i told him he can't just walk around yelling the word boobies like that but, you know steve, he's- hey"

you smirk at the book, not even aware that you've been called out.

"earth to y/n" robin steps a bit closer and pokes her index against the book cover. that's when you finally look up. "uhm- what? sorry i-" an amused expression flashes over robin's face when she sees the blush on your cheeks.

"were you even listening to half of what i just told you?" your blush deepens and you tilt your head. "something about...steve?" robin makes a face and flops herself onto your bed. your mattress bounces under the impact. "you sound a little too uncertain about that" she says teasingly and leans forward until her head is in your way of reading and she can scan the pages. "your book must be really interesting" you pull it away from her quickly and press it against your chest. "oh?" robin raises a brow with a grin plastered over her cheeks as if she knows exactly what's going on. "well now you'll have to show me"

you immediately shake your head eratically. you know robin wouldn't judge you, but still. she already knows the effect this has on you, so showing her means admitting that you're into what's happening: while you and robin have had sex before, it's never been like it is in the book: it's always been passionate and loving with robin, it was never so rough, so loud, so hot. your girlfriend, however, just rolls her eyes at you and chuckles. "pretty please y/n" she pleads "it can't be that bad now. and, besides, i'm your girlfriend. you know i won't judge you, right?" "i know" you tell her and hide your face behind your palms to cover your burning red cheeks. it gives her the perfect opportunity to snatch the book from where you've put it down. "robin!" you exclaim and reach out to take it from her again, but her eyes are already scanning the words on the page. "god" you groan when she smirks knowingly and throw your face into the pillows. "robin stop it!” robin puts a hand onto the back of your thigh and you turn to face her. her hand is still holding the book but something about her expression has changed. "it's not embarrassing at all" she finally whispers. her fingers reach out and she traces your jaw before they settle on your chin. "y/n" robin rasps "look at me"

when your gaze falls upon her face she gently pulls you towards her. the book has left you wanting for the past minutes and you gladly give in when she puts her mouth on yours.

“come here” she murmurs, closing the distance between the two of you. you part your lips immediately, kissing her with all the built up hunger.

“wow” she leans back just enough for the distance to settle heavy upon your heart. “so you liked it that much huh?” robin concludes.

you bite your lip. the evidence must be written all over your features so you don’t even bother to make up some lame excuse for your racing heart or the way you’re nearly panting under her gaze.

“is this” she taps the book. “what you want?”

once again, all you can do is nod at her, amazed by the sudden shift in robin’s energy when she leans in closer.

“yeah?” she rasps when she drags her lips over yours, just the brief, gentle ghost of a touch. “you want me to give it to you?”

all you can do is whimper. it’s enough.

-

robin is behind you. you’re on all fours for her, ass up and back arched. still, you can feel every inch of her exposed skin pressing against yours from behind. you can feel where her pebbled nipples are pressing against your shoulder blades, where her breath hits your earlobe in quick pants.

“you like this?” her voice whispers.

you can hardly hear it at all though. all you can hear are the wet noises two of her fingers are drawing from your soaked cunt.

she’s deep. deeper than she’s ever been, pressing two of her long, delicate fingers against your g-spot from behind.

usually, you’d be facing her whilst she makes love to you slowly. you’d spread your legs wider and she’d curl her finger inside you until you’re moaning her name.

usually, she’d whisper sweets words of praise to you until you’re shaking with the build up of your pleasure.

this isn’t what you usually do. this is different. it’s raw and rough. it’s oddly hot.

“yes” you whimper, your eyes rolling back so far in your head you can see the ceiling above.

“yes?” robin growls, while pushing her fingers even deeper.

“oh my god” you moan. this isn’t any of the usual love making. this is her fucking you. it’s her ruining you on your sheets, your moans and the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing through your room.

she presses her hips against you hard from behind, draws them back as she simultaneously pulls her fingers out from your slick folds, and then snaps them back immediately the moment she pushes back inside you. like she’s really fucking you.

it briefly occurs to you that you’ll have to invest in a strap-on, so she can really fill you up from behind and fuck you into oblivion, but any thought is cut short with another deliberate curl of her fingers against your g-spot.

“oh my god, robin -baby- yes!” you whine. the sound is so desperate and dirty you press your eyes shut in embarrassment.

robin, on the other hand, can’t seem to get enough of it. her free hand traces your spine as she whispers: “that’s it. that’s my girl. don’t hold in those pretty noises, baby, i wanna hear you”

as soon as a third finger slips into your tight pussy and she starts pumping them in and out, you can feel your arms starting to give out underneath your body. she’s never fucked you like this and your previous reading session had already left you wet and aching.

now, ever thrust of her fingers inside you feels like fucking heaven.

it’s not like you hadn’t hoped for this to happen; for the book to be an inspiration for what robin does to you bed. for it to be fuel to your fantasy when robin isn’t around to take such good care of you and all you have is the image of your girlfriend. and, still, this is better than anything you could’ve ever dreamed of.

and, yet, here you are: the relief of robin’s fingers deep inside your pussy. she’s pressing and curling and exploring your depths with three of her calloused finger pads.

your forearms tremble under the weight they’re currently holding up.

“robin robin robin” you chant, rocking back and forth with each of her thrusts. your head falls forward into the pillows, which do nothing to stifle the obscene sounds that you’re making.

“robin please”

“that’s my girl” robin hums proudly. “take it. let me make you cum. come on”

you can feel her kissing your sweat stained back, but it’s all white noise in comparison to how good she’s fucking you.

you borderline scream when her fingers start rubbing your clit, fast circles to match the brutal pace she’s set. robin herself is panting too, breathlessly rutting up against your ass. you wonder if she’s soaked through her panties by now. you know it’s easy to get your girl wet and with how she’s moaning, you wouldn’t be surprised if her arousal has left a visible, wet patch of her crotch.

in the end, it’s the sound of her voice that sends you over the edge, ragged and desperate as she asks you to cum for her.

“come on baby, cum. you can do it. be a good girl and cum for me”

everything else fades to back except for the burning hot pleasure that builds and builds in your core until the tension snaps and you come with a shout of her name.

robin is still thrusting deep into your convulsing pussy as you hold onto the duvet for dear life, clutching the soft fabric tightly into your fists.

you’re vaguely aware that you’re gushing for her, hot fluids soaking her wrist and the bed underneath you. robin has never managed to make you do that. she watches in amazement, even slows down the movement of her fingers inside you to let you recover from the intensity of your orgasm.

“holy shit” she whispers in awe. “holy shit holy shit holy shit baby”

“yeah” you nod breathlessly. “holy shit”

robin withdraws her fingers from your throbbing heat. immediately, you let your weight drop onto the mattress. immediately, robin is there to hold you.

“you did so good” she whispers. “so so good for me, my god, y/n”

you hum, happy to feel her arms as they wrap around your back.

“you’re gonna have to bring home those books more often” robin chuckles, gesturing to the long forgotten book.

you huff into the pillow. maybe she’s right. maybe you do have to bring home more romance books.

[bleghxy]

GL manga recs:

Summary: Maki's first love was her high school classmate, a girl named Midori. But Midori broke up with Maki at graduation, saying they were now "too old to be fooling around dating girls." Ten years later, Maki still can’t get Midori off her mind, and when the two women reconnect after a chance encounter, Maki realizes that, while her feelings haven’t changed, Midori has long moved on—in fact, she's engaged. Yet the more Maki hears Midori talk about her soon-to-be-husband, the more red flags she notices. And Midori has another secret, one she hasn’t yet shared with Maki. Will it be the last blow to Maki's hopes that their romance might be rekindled? Or will it be the push that sets them on a new path—one they'll travel together?

Review:

There's so much depth to this. At a glance it looks like a simple story. You read the summary and think oh well it's the same old plot of getting back with your ex but it's not. It deals with heavy topics like abusive relationships, comphet and the fear of being alone. It's very realistic in its portrayal. Both of the women are very well written especially Midori.

Status: Completed

Summary: Cooking is how Nomoto de-stresses, but one day, she makes way more than she can eat by herself. And so she invites her neighbor Kasuga, who also lives alone. What will come out of this dinner invitation?

Review: This manga is such an excellent read. There's so much that I love about this manga. I don't wanna spoil it so I'm gonna let you find out on your own. It points out the troubles women face due to the stereotypical portrayal of them in society. There's a good amount of discussion on lgbt especially on Nomoto's end. I won't say much about Kasuga because I don't wanna mistakenly spoil her past. There are also new characters in vol 3 who are as well written as the main characters. The women in this story are very well written! I really recommend this one! Also trigger warnings are given before anything heavy or disturbing is mentioned in this manga.

Status: Ongoing

Summary: Dani's promising future as an elite athlete is cut short when, during the middle of the television broadcast competition, her heart collapses. This ordeal will not only affect her health, but also destroy her relationship with her mother and skip her tennis career. In order to get away from the hustle and bustle of the big city and all its problems, she decides to go with her cousin to the small coastal town Levant and it is there where she will meet Blanca, a girl full of life and love for astronomy who will remind her that life can be beautiful and that Dani can shine again as the stars do.

Review: This is very short but still a good read. Even though I wished it were longer, it still managed to carry out the development between the two main characters. The only issue I had with this is, since the manga is very short, it fails to properly carry out the development between Dani and her mom.

Status: Completed

If you want more GL recs:

[wardenparker]

Woo hoo! big congrats on the 2.5k. now onto the prompt: I think a Dave York and "I'll protect you" combo could be interesting

Dave York. 1,269 words. "I'll protect you." Co-written with @absurdthirst

Wounded Dave, description of wounds, cursing, character holding a gun. Takes place directly after the events of Equalizer 2.

The address for the farm where you live is pretty straightforward. He’s had it since the day you closed on the property nearly ten years ago. Never needed it until now, but he’s glad that he had kept. Moving is slow, unable to be as stealthy as he once was with the nerve damage and loss of vision in one eye. It takes him nearly three days of watching the small clearing with several buildings before he decides to creep into the house when you are away.

Grocery shopping is only a small project, but you do it once a week at the break of dawn on Sunday morning when most of the devout town in the valley below your little farm is either at church or having a family meal. Most people don't bother with you after so long. You have your little farm and you're mostly self-sustaining at this point. There is fishing and hunting in the area so no one notices when a few extra fish or one more deer go missing every once in a while, and you only need to venture into the local grocery store for a ten minute trip of things you simply can't buy or make yourself.

Or sometimes, like today, you just need a little treat. A bag of chocolate chips and some bananas make their way back to the farm with you in what is probably your most decadent purchase in a year.

Something is different when you get to the farmhouse, though, and even the simple act of walking through the front door has you on high alert. The house feels different. Smells different. And you glance down at the threshold to see mud caked in your entry way. Just a dab of it, but it's enough to have you carefully and silently dropping your groceries inside the doorway and filling your hands instead with the gun you carry every time you leave the house. It's small, concealed, but effective.

"You have to the count of three to get out of my fucking house," you call to whoever it is that has snuck in, in your absence.

He’s got to give it to you, you haven’t slipped. Your senses are just as sharp as they had been when you left the team. Purposefully making noise to alert you to the direction he’s coming from, Dave manages to shuffle forward enough to step into the doorway. “Might take me longer than three seconds, Slim.” He huffs, calling you by the nickname that you had begrudgingly adopted when you realized it wasn’t an insult. They had been talking about your slender fingers and how you could do some of the delicate work they couldn’t. He’s exhausted and ready to collapse, but he keeps his lone eye on the gun in your hand.

You recognize his voice faster than his face. It's been ten years since the last time you saw Dave York and he's in rough fucking shape. In fact, he is the smell that first alerted you to your house being compromised when you got home. He reeks like three days in a swamp. But it isn't until he comes around the corner that you understand why.

"Fuck, Dave." One look at the wreck he's become after whatever the fuck happened to him and you're slipping the gun back into its holster and rushing forward to keep him upright long enough that he can make it to an actual seat instead of collapsing on your floor. "What the hell happened to you?"

“Bad day.” Dave jokes weakly, barely managing to not lean all his weight against you as you guide him to a chair. His wounds are still bleeding, seeping through the bandages that he’s managed to wrap around them and to be honest, he’s got a fucking infection or ten. “McCall.”

“Ah, fuck.” For whatever it’s worth, you never liked McCall that much. Too self-righteous. Smug about being intelligent. Sanctimonious to the point of irritation. Parting ways with the team a decade ago had been a blessing. “Is he gonna come track you down while I’m cleaning you up, or do we have time to figure out how bad a shape you’re actually in?”

Dave grunts in pain after he tried to shake his head. “He— he thinks I’m dead.” He hisses. “I should be.”

"Stop trying to move, you dumbass." 'Affectionate heckling' is what you once called the name calling on the team and apparently you haven't lost that touch. Although it shouldn't surprise you – the other reason you left the team when Dave and some of the other guys were getting into mercenary work is because you've had feelings for Dave York so long that it feels like part of your DNA at this point. "Let me get my kit and a wash basin. We'll get you cleaned up and rebandaged and figure out how fucked you are. Okay?"

“Same old Slim.” Dave grunts, but it’s warm, softer than he would have talked to anyone else on the team. Not that he can talk to them anymore. They’re dead. He thinks about Carol and the kids and his stomach twists, knowing that he has to stay away now. He will be a danger to them if he shows up again. His entire world is gone and now he has to figure out what to do.

"Do I even want to know what happened?" The farmhouse isn't large, and once Dave is leaning against the counter you dart across the room to scoop up your groceries and get the few cold things put away before you head into the bathroom to retrieve your first aid kit and a basin of clean water.

“Shit went sideways.” He can always be honest with you; in a way he couldn’t be honest with the team or with Carol. You know his soul. Even as dark as it is. “We tried to clean it up and there was a casualty that was McCall’s friend.”

“The rest of the team on your heels?” If they are, you’ll need to prep. There aren’t enough places for four guys to sleep in this house, but you’ll make it work.

“Everyone’s dead.” Dave murmurs quietly. There was no way anyone else survived. Hell, the only reason he survived was because the water was freezing. Slowing down the bleed out and the storm washed his body away before McCall could do anything else.

"Fuck." That has you stopping in your tracks, whipping around on the spot to turn and look him in the eye. The one he has that is still working well. The wreckage of the powerful man you had fallen in love with so many years ago and pined for ever since makes your chest ache in a hollow and long-forgotten sort of way. Like your heart had forgotten how to beat, but even the sight of a bruised and beaten Dave York is enough to bring it back again.

"Don't worry," you murmur, reaching out to put your hand over his. "We can keep you hidden up here as long as we need to." It's no small feat, but you have and would do far less for this man. "I'll protect you. I promise."

Closing his eyes, Dave relaxes, knowing you will keep your word. He’s always known you’ve had his back, even when you left the team. You left because of him, because of Carol, and not for the first time he wishes he had followed you. “I know, Slim.” He murmurs softly. “You’re the only one I trust. Always have been.”

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer @shakespeareanwannabe

My Masterlist!

[creepy-friday]

Happy Valentines Day!

Summary: small date while you two are in an established relationship,it's up to the reader if it's on a random day or this day specifically

Warnings: today I want to fulfill someone's fantasy so just some suggestive content

Toby can make anything a date,even before the two of you started dating, in his fucked up head of his he tricked himself into thinking that even a mission could be one. Going into town might be difficult because of his jealousy issues and how quickly he might become suspicious of everyone around you,so anywhere where just the two of you would share warmth would be perfect for him.

Romance isn't his talent but during his personality switches,Tim can make a pleasant environment once in an eternity.He would take you to the lake inside the forest and bring some bad convenience store canned coffee with him.During that time period tension might be released and for once,you two don't have to talk about work,but about yourselves.

Altough Brian is a woman pleaser,he would want to take you somewhere private during the night in town to give you a false sense of danger,just to keep you close to him and to make you feel safe only because he's there master manipulator.He would take you star watching and do that annoying thing where he would stare at you whenever you are too focused on the sky.

Abandoned trailers and bottle throwing is Jeff's ideal hangout with their special other.He would sit on an armchair with his legs on the other side and look at you while you try to hit all the emtpy bottles,throwing either some harmless insults or dirty praises,all while letting out some giggle in between.

BEN might try to take you into his special made digital world just to show you the places he specifically made for you to see.It gives you a fake feeling of freedom and he lives to hear your praise over the designs,textures and how beautiful they are.That guy would probably not even show you all of it so that your attention remains on him.

Clocky is the typical take you to her room sort of gal,and if the two of you have a special thing she would put in effort to decorate and to bring some of your favorites in there.

On the other hand,Jane would take you to her room during the night to listen to your toughts,opinions,and to get to know you better and to actually see who you are as a person. The two of you would sit at her table with the window open and the smell of tea intoxicating the room while she rubs your hand and gestures you to keep on venting to her.

[rollinouttahere-writes]

Happy valentines ! Can I request dark chocolate for 5 and 8 please for Ace 🙏

This is lowkey a prequel to this one tbh

Yandere Ace x GN!Reader

1.3k words

Prompts:

You deserve this and more. Everything in the world, if you ask me.

If you don’t make a decision, I will.

Everyone tried to change your mind and discourage you from continuing your relationship with a certain pirate, but the heart wants what the heart wants. 

Well, to be fair, you’re not sure you could call it a relationship. You two were in the throws of a flirty, will-we-won’t-we phase. Ace was extremely charming in a goofy, boy next door sort of way, and you found it irresistible. He was something new and exciting in an otherwise boring town. You couldn’t pass up the opportunity to have as much fun with him as possible while you could. Sure, the rest of his crew was filled with other fun individuals that you’d also enjoyed getting to know, but Ace was a definitive favorite.

When he asked you to meet up with him in a secluded spot late at night, you eagerly agreed and spent all day looking forward to whatever he had in store for you. He seemed excited about it too, so you’re sure that it’s going to be something good. Given how wary everyone has been in regards to Ace, you told no one about it. The meeting would be a secret rendezvous between two maybe-lovers. At least that’s how you were seeing it.

After making sure you looked your absolute best, you snuck out of the village and headed for where Ace said to meet him. Your heart pounded in anticipation, wondering what the night would bring.

At the south end of the small island you lived on was a cliff face overlooking the beautiful expanse of the endless ocean. The spot was actually already a well established location for romantic rendezvous, and you couldn’t help but wonder if Ace was aware of that. Was it purely a coincidence, or had he done that intentionally?

Using the forest as a means to hide yourself from any prying eyes did make the trip a little longer than it needed to be, but you didn’t want to risk anyone you knew seeing and trying to stop you. The trees eventually started to thin out, and you could see the clearing of the cliff face peeking through the spaces. You pressed forward with a renewed energy, feeling giddy like a teenager with a crush.

The first thing that caught your eyes was Ace’s bright orange hat, it was impossible to miss. It seemed he had his back to you. Grinning mischievously, you reduce your light jog into a slow creep, careful not to make a noise in the brush as you close in on your unsuspecting love. In the last few steps, you lurch forward; crashing into his back and wrapping your arms tightly around his middle.

Ace yelped in surprise, but relaxed quickly upon hearing your familiar giggles. He squirmed around in your grip so he could face you. His strong arms circled around you, returning your gesture gently but firmly. You sank into him, nuzzling your face into the fabric of his yellow shirt and basking in the comfort of his scent. Notes of the sea, a campfire, and his natural musk.

“I’m glad you came, I was nervous that you wouldn’t show,” he spoke in a quiet voice. One of his fingers was tracing circles on your back soothingly.

“Of course I did, how could I ever pass up on this?”

His arms tightened and he chuckled, “You’re too kind to me.” Ace relinquished his hold on you, and you begrudgingly did the same. You finally properly took in your surroundings and noticed a blanket thrown over the ground near the cliff. A lit lantern and a basket sat on top of it. 

You squealed excitedly and hugged Ace again, “Is this a picnic? Oh, You didn’t have to do all this for me!”

“I wanted to do this for you. You deserve this and more. Everything in the world, if you ask me.” The words were spoken with such conviction and sincerity that it made your face hot to the touch and your heart flutter. How could any of your fellow villagers think of him as nothing more than some awful brute? He’s such a sweetheart.

He motioned for you to sit down and make yourself comfortable, and you had no reason to object. You’d been so preoccupied about tonight that you’d neglected to eat, so the late night meal was more than welcome. While you were happily digging in, you couldn’t help but notice that Ace wasn’t doing the same. All he did was pick at his food and occasionally steal glances at you. Upon looking a little more closely, you can see that he’s blushing.

Was this going to be it? Would he make your relationship official? 

Your staring didn’t go unnoticed. Ace made eye contact with you, only for his face to turn a deeper shade of red and look away. Feeling emboldened by what, in your opinion, was confirmation of your feelings being mutual, you scoot closer to him and link your arms around one of his..

“So… Did you bring me here so you could tell me something?” You’re far too eager to let this progress naturally, so you try to goad him on.

The tips of his ears now matched his face, but he found it in him to speak. “I did.” There was a pause as he mentally prepared himself for what was about to be said. With a shake of his head, the nervousness dissipated and shifted into determination. He turned to face you fully and took your hands in his. The skin was rough, but so warm that it teetered on the edge of hot.

“I’m in love with you.”

Your breath catches in your throat, and you can only gawk at him.

“I’ve met so many people, but no one has made me feel the way that you do. You’re so perfect that I feel wrong for even touching you, but I can’t help myself but want more of you. I know it’s selfish, but I need you. I need you by my side. So I need to ask you something.” Ace pulled you closer, resting his forehead against your own, “Will you come with me?”

The elation from his confession abruptly crashes down around you as the reality of the situation hits you. Could you really go with him? Could you leave everything behind for a man that you’ve only known for a week? As love struck as you are, it’s not enough to completely blind you from reason. 

Your hesitation and lack of a response punches Ace in the gut. His face falls and the heartbreak in his eyes almost makes you cave and agree. “You… You don’t feel the same.”

“N-No! That’s not it! I do feel the same! I mean- I love you, too. It’s just…” You trailed off as you struggled to articulate your dilemma and averted your gaze. “I don’t know that I can just up and leave so suddenly. My whole life is here… I need to think about it, okay?”

You look at his face once again, hoping to see understanding in his eyes. Rather than that, all you saw was hurt and betrayal, like he couldn’t believe your words. His hands still tightly grasped yours, but now they trembled. You wrack your mind to find the right words to sooth him, but you’re coming up blank.

“If you don’t make a decision, I will.”

The statement from Ace catches you entirely off guard. It… It almost sounded like a threat. The sparse lighting of the lantern only made his expression look more ominous. All you can do is stammer out a meek, “Excuse me?”

“We set sail tomorrow. If you haven’t made a decision by then, I will make it for you.” He finally let go of you and you were quick to put some distance in between you two. The warnings from your friends and family were starting to make a lot more sense.

“You’re going to be on that ship with me.” There was no question here, Ace appeared to already have his mind set on a specific outcome, and you’re afraid of what’s going to happen if you try and keep that from happening.

[fluentmoviequoter]

Family Name

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x reader (reader was in the Army and SWAT in Central City)

Summary: After ten years away, you return to Gotham. When you discover you know the true identity of the Joker, you join Batman's fight to save Gotham.

Warnings: angst, fluff, vague references to several DC Comics movies and timelines, murder (I can't get too specific about the murder warning without spoiling a plot point, but there is a friendly fire aspect and an assassination by a sniper)

Word Count: 6.6k+ words

A/N: This is my first time writing for Bruce Wayne (or at least posting it lol) so he may be OOC. I actually wrote most of this a year ago and just put the finishing touches on it, so I'm not sure if it's worth reading. Feel free to let me know what you think and send any Bruce Wayne requests you have so I can keep practicing for him! (If you want a specific characterization/actor let me know.)

The map that I used as a reference while writing is included at the end!

Masterlist | DC Masterlist | Request Info

Gotham is still cold, wet, and smelly. Some things never change, no matter how hard a certain vigilante tries. It’s been nearly ten years since you last set foot in Gotham, and things have changed. For better or worse? Who can tell?

It is raining as you walk out of the train station on the outer border of Gotham City. You shiver and pull your jacket closer to your body as the cold drizzle starkly contrasts the sunny Central City you came from. You hail a cab and tell the driver the address of your temporary apartment. The news station on the radio catches your attention, and the driver turns it up when you ask.

“After a fearsome showdown last night with the Joker, who is still missing from Arkham Asylum, the Batman has been spotted in downtown Gotham. The GCPD is on high alert following several tips of illegal business at the Iceberg Lounge,” they report.

“You new in town?” the driver asks.

“Not exactly. I haven’t been here in years though,” you explain.

“Then you’re new. This is a whole new Gotham. Just stay on the good side of the Batman and you’ll be fine, kid. This is you.”

After paying the driver and pulling your bags from the trunk, you stand on the sidewalk and look up at the place you now call home. The apartment building is old but in decent condition. Especially considering where it is. As the rain grows heavier, you move inside, climbing the stairs to the third floor and entering your apartment. The unit came furnished, so you only have some clothing to unpack. You start a list of the housewares and cleaning supplies you’ll need to buy. Walking around the living room, you notice the cable is hooked up and turn on the television. The local television channels are either out because of the rain or playing broadcasts of last night’s story. Any background noise will do, you suppose, as you leave a news channel on and begin unpacking and cleaning with what little bit of supplies you have.

After cleaning, you take a break and fall back onto the couch. The news is still on, and a face flashes across the scene, filling you with an odd sense of recognition. You lean forward to get a better view before exclaiming, “No way.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“When did you come back?” someone asks as you enter a small department store.

Looking up, you smile when you see a familiar face. “Barbara, hey! Last night. Been in Central City for too long.”

“Should have stayed there,” she says, laughing humorlessly. “Gotham is quite literally the most crime ridden city in the world now. It’s on the sign and everything. At least in Central you have a vigilante to protect you.”

“So does Gotham,” you point out. “He’s all over the news.”

“Yeah, we do. But for every criminal he puts in Arkham, ten more pop up.”

“Is your dad still a cop?”

“He’s the commissioner now. Actually…” She pulls a card out of her wallet and hands it to you. “Call him if you ever get in trouble. Be careful, okay? This isn’t the Gotham you remember.”

“I will. Thanks.”

You watch her leave before you begin shopping for the items on your list. After shopping, you are back in your apartment, cleaning and organizing. The Gotham News has more showtime than Hannah Montana in the 2000s. You find yourself invested in every story they present. Maybe this isn’t the Gotham you remember, but it is still Gotham and your home. If this city needs help, you'll offer everything you have.

“Citizens of Gotham, I am Police Commissioner James Gordon. Regarding the recent red alert at Arkham Asylum, the GCPD is urging residents to stay indoors, lock doors and windows, and most importantly, stay calm. We are not sure at this time how many, if any, patients escaped the asylum. Anyone with information is encouraged to contact crime stoppers at 800-”

You mute the television and look at your closet. An armour-plated uniform hangs front and centre, practically begging you to put it on and fight for your home. If Barbara doesn’t think Batman can handle all the criminals, maybe he would appreciate a little help.

“Don’t be stupid,” you chastise yourself, still looking at the closet. A few minutes later, you find yourself standing in front of the closet, thinking, “But you have the training.”

✯✯✯✯✯

Gotham looks much darker from a rooftop. You find a lookout spot a few blocks from Arkham, assuming anyone who escaped will have to pass you eventually.

“Oh, sweet Gotham! Riddle me this!” a high-pitched voice calls. A moment later, you see a man dressed in a green suit entering the alley below you.

“Now or never,” you whisper as you move toward the edge.

“The more of it there is, the less of all you see. What is it?” Riddler asks.

“Darkness,” you answer as you grab his shoulders.

You pull him backwards and knock him to the ground. His breath rushes out at the impact, and you bring your elbow down to his face, rendering him unconscious before he can catch his breath. The burner phone you bought earlier is programmed with James Gordon’s number in it.

“Gordon,” he answers.

“Riddler is unconscious in the alley at Tomlinson and Pygall,” you say lowly, hoping your voice is disguised enough, before hanging up.

Your attention is ripped away from the unconscious criminal as a silhouette of a bat floats across the sky.

“There’s hope yet, Gotham,” you say, smiling.

✯✯✯✯✯

It seems as though you are better at vigilantism than you expected. Everywhere you go, Batman is either already there or crosses your path. He has yet to see you, that much is sure. Lurking on a dark rooftop, you hear the telltale sign of his grappling hook and are a second too late in realizing he is moving onto the same roof as you.

“So, you’re the one who’s been stealing half my jobs?” he asks, walking toward you.

“You seem busy, thought you might like some help,” you respond, shrugging as you change your voice again.

“Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the thought. But you need to go home. This is dangerous and you could get hurt.”

You internally roll your eyes at his obvious arguments. “So could you.”

“Doesn’t matter if I get hurt.”

“Me neither. Any idea how many more of them are out there?”

Batman sighs and turns away from you to look over the city. “One or two,” he answers. “The city got lucky; Joker was in solitary and didn’t get out.”

You nod to yourself, moving toward the edge as you ask, “Why does it seem so easy to escape Arkham?”

“Poor security, not enough staff, an old building. The list is endless. Every time someone tries to strengthen it, a stronger foe comes along and breaks it again.”

“You’ve been doing this a long time.”

“Yet nothing’s changed.”

A sound behind you stops your answer. Turning toward the sound, you launch yourself onto the fire escape, ignoring Batman’s pleas to stop. 

“Whoa,” you breathe, looking at the plants growing in the alley. 

“You’re not the Bat,” Poison Ivy, whose news special aired last night, says. “You’d look much better in green than him.”

“Every plant I’ve ever owned has died. It’s one of my talents,” you taunt before throwing a canister from your belt. 

“It won’t work, Buttercup. I’ve been tear gassed many times.”

“It’s not just tear gas,” you call as the plants begin to wither. “It’s concentrated sulfur dioxide. Deadly to plants and debilitating to people.”

She coughs several times before falling. An arm wraps around your waist, and you are hoisted through the air before landing on a rooftop. 

“What was that?!” Batman demands.

“Sulfur dioxide.”

“That’s not what I mean, and you know it! You can’t just run around taunting criminals in a mask. What if that hadn’t worked and she had hurt you?”

“She didn’t. Besides-“

“No! You don’t get to justify this.” He keeps talking, and you feel like you have heard him before. You watch him closely as he continues berating you. 

“This is not a game. Do you understand that?” Bingo. You smile at him, his chest heaving as he prepares to yell at you again.

“You’re still really protective,” you say lightly. 

Batman turns toward you quickly, shaking his head before asking, “What?”

“In middle school you wouldn’t let me jump from the top of the swing set. Just funny that you’re still so protective when you risk your life every single night.”

“What are you talking about?”

You move toward the edge of the building and look over your shoulder at him. 

“Goodnight, Bruce.”

Batman runs to the edge after you jump, but the alley is empty. 

“Alfred,” he calls into his earpiece. 

“You’ll figure it out, sir. Eventually.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“Didn’t I tell you to stay home?” Batman asks as he walks up behind you. 

“No. You told me I couldn’t run around taunting criminals in a mask. Which, by the way, I have some questions about. Can I walk and taunt criminals in a mask or is it the taunting that’s the problem?” you tease, looking up at him from your crouched position. 

“Ha ha,” he deadpans. “I’ll give you a pass for the other night, but you need to go home. Right now. I’m not letting you get hurt for this.”

“Then don’t. Watch my back and I’ll watch yours.” You extend your hand for a handshake as you stand. 

“No deal. Go home.”

“I’m not going home. So, stay with me and we can help each other or I’m going to go hunt him down on my own.”

He narrows his eyes at you before sighing and shaking your hand. 

“Why are you smiling?” he asks as he releases your hand. 

“We always were a pretty good team.”

You see the moment of recognition as his jaw drops under the cowl. He recovers quickly and points at you. 

“Ground rules. Number one: you don’t engage. Two: stay hidden. Three: run if things go south.”

“Got it. Be boring,” you relay. 

“This is not the time for jokes. Our lives are on the line. You don’t even have a good reason to be here.”

“Yeah I do.”

“Please enlighten me,” Batman prods impatiently. 

You can tell he is mad you were here and are not listening to him. Too bad, Bats, you think. Gotham is your home, too, and you aren’t going to let it fall into the hands of some crazy clown or any other criminal. 

“But before you tell me that, tell me what makes you qualified to be out here.”

“Look at me. Armoured uniform, tear gas, I’m a CCPD jacket short of official.”

“You’re CCPD?”

“I was. SWAT officer for five years after I got out of the Army. But I grew up here and I’m not letting this city go without a fight.”

“Why this fight? The one criminal we haven’t been able to stop for almost a decade?”

“Because...” You look up at him and smile. “I know who he is.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“Thank you, Batman,” Commissioner Gordon says, shaking Batman’s hand. “We’ll get him in solitary.”

“Thanks, Jim,” Batman replies. 

“Who’s your new helper? Everyone at the station is talking about the reaper that popped up and knows how to take them all down.”

“An old friend. Try to keep them in a while longer this time, will you?”

Commissioner Gordon turns around to see Batman is gone. “We’ll try,” he mumbles into the dark. 

✯✯✯✯✯

The next night, Batman is gone. You don’t so much as see his shadow all night. There is only one criminal out; maybe they’re all on vacation, too. Killer Croc used Arkham’s sewer system to escape and pop up downtown. It was a long and tiresome fight, but you got him on the ground, and the GCPD took it from there. You finally reach the rooftop, preparing to cross them to go home, but don't make it far. Hitting the roof, you feel pain shoot through your ribs. After running your hand across the area, your skin is stained red. Great, you think. 

“What were you thinking?!” Batman reprimands you as he appears and kneels beside you, pulling items from his utility belt. 

“Mostly about what I was going to eat for dinner,” you joke, hissing when the antiseptic hits your skin. 

“I’m sorry,” Batman says quietly. “Are you okay?”

“Peachy. At least it wasn’t my neck this time.”

“I told you not to use your belt to traverse the jungle gym,” Batman mumbles. 

“So, you do remember me,” you say happily.

“You’re still an idiot with a death wish.”

“And you’re still Mother Hen Bruce.”

“This’ll help for now,” he says, helping you stand up and hooking his arm under your shoulders. “But I’m taking you back to the cave to get you checked out.”

“Didn’t do enough checking out in high school?” you slur before passing out.

“Alfred, we’re inbound,” he says into his microphone. 

“Glad to see blood loss doesn’t dampen her sarcasm,” Alfred responds, “I’ll be ready.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“What did you mean you know who he is?” Bruce asks. 

You blink several times to make sure you aren’t imagining him. He looks different than the last time you saw him. Without the mask, he’s more like the Bruce you grew up with, just older and barely holding Gotham together.

“You got hot,” you say without thinking. 

“Thanks. Now tell me what you meant.”

“That I know who he is?” you clarify, standing up. 

“Please stay down,” Alfred chides as he returns with tea. 

“Thanks, Alfred. Good to see you again.” You smile as you accept the tea. 

“You as well. Now take it easy. You should be battle ready in a day or two but that’s only if you rest properly.”

“No, you will not be battle ready. There is no more battle for you,” Bruce adds. 

“You know I’m not going to listen and if you tell me no I’ll just do it myself.”

“We’ll have this conversation later. For now, tell me what you know about Joker.”

“Okay. He’s my uncle. Like twice removed, or-“

“There’s no way you’re related to that monster,” Bruce interjects. 

“I’m not, really. We’re related by marriage. His aunt or somebody else married my cousin and I happened to meet him a few times. Fate, I guess.”

“Do you know his name?” 

“No. Everyone in the family called him J. I thought his name started with a J but see now that it’s because he’s cuckoo for cocoa puffs.”

Bruce chuckles and shakes his head before turning serious again. “Are you really okay?”

“I’m great. Thanks for the assist.”

“I’m glad you’re back. Even if you are endangering yourself and ignoring everything I say.”

“Me too.”

“But Alfred’s right. You need some rest. We can finish this conversation later.”

“I can go home,” you say, standing up.

You stumble slightly, and Bruce catches you, holding you upright against him. 

“Can you?” he asks, the ghost of a smile appearing on his face. 

✯✯✯✯✯

“I think I found something,” you cheer when Bruce answers the phone. 

“Where are you?”

“My apartment. It’s by Sacred Heart.”

The line goes silent, so you say Bruce’s name. 

“You’re living by the Narrows? I thought you just went out there to fight.”

“It’s a fine building. I’m not in the Narrows.”

“No but you’re between Crime Alley and Arkham Island. You need to find a new place. Now.”

“I can’t afford anything else, Bruce. It was this or Slaughter Swamp.”

“Pack your essentials. I’ll be there in twenty.”

He hangs up, leaving you with a dozen questions. However, you know he means what he says, so you pack the stuff you can’t live without and are ready to go when he shows up twenty minutes later. 

“You’re staying at Wayne Manor until we find you a new place.”

“That is not necessary.”

“It’s not just that this is close to the Narrows. We’re going after Joker, and I need to know you’re safe.”

“We’re not going after Joker,” you correct, “we’re finishing this.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“Bruce, I can’t find a marriage certificate. They may not have been married; maybe they were just living together or something and didn’t want to explain it to a kid,” you admit, disappointed in your lack of findings. 

“It’s okay. We will find something. And if we don’t, we can do it another way,” he assures. 

✯✯✯✯✯

“This is the fourth Arkham breakout in as many weeks. When do you sleep?” you ask. 

Alfred laughs faintly through the communications system. 

“During Wayne Enterprises meetings, usually,” Bruce answers. 

“I got one. Going dark,” you alert before jumping to meet Captain Boomerang. 

After a short fight which results in your earpiece breaking, Captain Boomerang is unconscious, and you prepare to call Gordon. 

“Ha ha ha ha,” an eerie voice cackles behind you. 

You freeze in place before turning slowly and coming face-to-face with the Joker. He knocks your helmet off in one swift move, and your face is now visible. 

“I remember you. My aunt married your second cousin. Horrible family you have. Or should I say had? Ha ha ha ha.”

“What do you want?”

“Is a family reunion not enough? No, I guess you’re right. I mean, marriages end so are we even related anymore?”

“We never were.”

“Oh, that’s where you’re wrong, Reaper! You know everyone calls you that, don’t ya? Personally, I think it’s a bit morbid but to each their own. I also heard from a little bird that you’re working with the big, bad bat. I had such great hopes for you, and you let me down.”

“What do you want?” you repeat slowly. 

“To be family again,” he answers, smiling as he runs his fingers over your face and hair. 

“What about Harley? Isn’t she your family? You were all she could talk about the other night.”

“Not anymore. She settled for some used piece on her Suicide Suckers. But me and you? Me and you could be the dream team. The family to end all families.”

“I don’t want to be part of your family.”

“When I found out Harley was a harlot, you know what I said? I said I’d peel off her skin and put it on a new body. But I can’t imagine those words coming from her. So, from now on…” he moves his hand to rest in front of your throat as his smile drops. “If Harley wouldn’t say it, you don’t say it.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“Alfred, where is she?” Bruce asks.

“Toxic Acres. She’s still not responding,” Alfred responds, watching your tracker blink in the same place for the fifth consecutive minute.

“I’m going after her,” Bruce declares.

“Be careful, Master Bruce.” Bruce doesn’t respond, and Alfred mutes the private connection as he watches Bruce’s tracker move toward yours. “And don’t do anything you’ll regret.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“You’re making a mistake, J,” you hiss, the pressure of Joker’s hand on your throat making it hard, but not impossible, to breathe.

“No, they made a mistake,” he argues, moving his hand slightly as he steps back to look at you.

“Who?”

“Your family. All families. Everyone who treats people like outsiders.”

“You mean to tell me you’re doing this - all of this - because you never felt like you belonged in a family?”

“No!” Joker yells, leaning his weight against your throat as he smiles in your face. “Because no family has ever accepted me. I know I don’t belong, but everyone expects families to lie, right? Especially their own, but no, poor Joker always got told the truth! ‘You’re too strange,’ ‘You’re dangerous,’ ‘The kids are scared of you,’ yet no one ever offered to help me fit in.”

You raise your hands to his arm and claw at his skin, growing desperate for air as he rants. He looks over when your hits grow weaker and pulls his hand back. You fall to the ground, wheezing, as you try to take deep breaths. 

Holding your neck, you look up at him and ask, “Then what do you want?”

He kneels in front of you and holds a knife out in his hand. “I want you to find a family and make a Joker-sized hole for me to fill.”

Shaking your head, you argue, “I’m not like you. I won’t do that, J.”

He cocks his head as his smile falls. “Harley wouldn’t say that, would she? And, besides, you’re more like me than you think, aren’t you? And what’s more interesting is that I think you know it. We’re the same, you and I, whether you like it or not.” The knife is raised to your throat as he threatens, “Do it, or I will make another hole in your family.”

“Another?” you ask.

The blade presses against your skin, and you close your eyes, unwilling to give him the theatrics and attention he so desperately seeks. A grappling hook sounds somewhere above you just before the blade is removed from your throat. Joker’s words echo in your head, and your eyes stay closed. Someone gently touches your neck and your face, but you don’t open your eyes, in case it’s him trying to trick you. He does that; you remember that too well.

An arm loops around your waist as a hand pulls your arms over broad shoulders. Only when you’re flying through the air and clinging to him are you ready to admit that Bruce is saving you. Opening your eyes, you see Wayne Tower in the distance. You tighten your arms around Bruce’s neck, and his hand squeezes your waist in response. He lands on the roof of Wayne Manor and rushes into the Batcave.

“What did he do to you?” Bruce asks as he sets you on a medical exam table. The same table you sat on when he saved you after the fight with Killer Croc.

Bruce tries to step back, but you cling to him. He’s the only family you have left, and Joker opened an old wound with his talk of carving a hole in a family to fill himself. That’s what he tried to do with your family, but when he still didn’t fit, he kept carving.

“Please don’t leave me,” you whisper into Bruce’s suit.

Bruce’s arms wrap around you, pulling you to the edge of the table as he cups your head to his shoulder.

“I’m right here,” he soothes. “Not going anywhere.”

He holds you for longer than you realize; time slows down in Bruce’s arms. When you pull back, he cups your face in his hands and looks at you intently.

“Want to talk about it?” he asks.

“Not right now,” you whisper.

“That’s okay,” he promises, nodding.

“The guest bedroom has been prepared and dinner is awaiting you, Master Bruce,” Alfred calls, briefly appearing in the doorway of the Batcave.

“Can we talk about it in the morning?” you ask.

“Of course. Whenever you’re ready. And you’re staying here tonight.”

You don’t argue, nodding as you stand and follow Bruce upstairs. He shows you to a guest room with clothes, toiletries, and more books than you can count. Telling you to use whatever you want; he leaves to change before meeting you for dinner.

When you enter the bathroom to change into the clothes you found in the closet, you see yourself in the mirror. Mostly, you see the red line running across your neck. Joker has hurt more than enough people, you decide, and you meant what you told Bruce; you plan to finish this.

✯✯✯✯✯

Bruce sits up suddenly. The sun is coming through the cracks in his curtains, but something feels off. He pulls a shirt over his head and walks down the hall, knocking on the door to the guest room where you’re staying. After a moment of no answer, he lets himself in. There’s a note on the bed in your handwriting.

I can’t let him do it again, especially not to you. Please stay home tonight and let me finish this fight. I should have done it ten years ago, but I was scared and ran. This is my chance to make everything right. Please forgive me.

Bruce takes a deep breath, suppressing his urge to punch a hole in the wall. Alfred wouldn’t appreciate another one. He rereads the note, then goes downstairs for breakfast like everything is fine.

“Where is our guest?” Alfred asks when Bruce enters the dining room. “Resting, I hope.”

“She’s gone. She left in the middle of the night to, quote, finish a fight like she should have done ten years ago.”

Alfred’s eyes widen as he stops moving trays onto the table. “You’re going after her, then?”

“No, Alfred, I am not.”

Bruce picks up the paper, as nonchalant as ever, and more convincing than when he turns on his Brucie Wayne charm.

“Why ever not, sir?”

“She asked me not to. And after her reaction to me last night, I’m inclined to listen to her.”

“You can’t be serious.”

Bruce drops the paper and looks at Alfred. “I am going to do exactly what she said.” When the paper covers his face again, he adds, “For a while.”

“Good man,” Alfred mutters, returning to serving breakfast.

✯✯✯✯✯

Realistically, you know that breaking into Arkham and executing a patient isn’t the best idea, but it would solve the problem. However, there’s the downside of life in prison for first-degree murder that you’d have to contend with. Bruce would surely visit you, but you don’t want to lose him before you get him back.

Perched on a rooftop, you watch Arkham and hope your trap is being laid as planned. The security lights blink on seconds before the alarm sounds. If Arkham Asylum is good for anything, it’s the consistency of frequent breakouts. No matter who breaks out tonight, you’re prepared. All you have to do is convince them to lay a trap for Joker, convincing him that you killed someone, and then you can pounce. Watching the alley below you, you furrow your brows as you lean forward.

“Catwoman?” you ask incredulously.

She looks up, tilting her head at the sight of you. “Reaper?” she asks, sounding far too excited.

“What are you doing here?”

“What do you think I’m doing?”

“Thieving, I presume?” She nods, and you lower yourself onto a fire escape before jumping to meet her. “There’s nothing here worth stealing.”

“Maybe.”

You clench your hands into fists and look down the alley.

“I think the better question is what are you doing here, Reaper? I’m not exactly in your demographic.”

Under your mask, you press your lips together and consider confiding in her. She cares about Batman as far as you can tell, so if you tell her Joker is planning to kill him (though, in reality, Bruce is his likely target), she may be willing to help.

“Batman dump you? He does that,” Catwoman hums.

“What? No, no, we’re not together like that.”

“Yet,” Catwoman interjects.

“Look, Joker is going to try to kill someone that I love. He’s already ruined my family forever.”

“You just moved here, who could you possibly love here? I thought I fell fast.”

“I grew up here, and-“

Your mind races as you remember that you haven’t been seen with Bruce since returning, but Joker has been out since then. Pulling the earpiece from your pocket, you hope someone is in the Batcave.

“Hello?” you ask into it, desperate and terrified for your family. “Take whatever you want,” you tell Catwoman when you don’t get an answer, “heck, take something for me too. But if you see Batman, tell him I’m looking for him?”

“Sure.” You move toward the end of the alley before Catwoman asks, “What should we call you?”

Smiling, you answer, “Reaper is growing on me.”

“Good luck, Reaper.”

You could have taken a grappling hook before you left Wayne Manor last night, but you were more concerned with Bruce’s safety than yours. Getting off of Arkham Island and into Gotham Heights will take too long on foot.

“Batman?” you ask, trying the comm again. “Anybody?”

“You called?”

You slide to a stop, nearly falling over, when you see Batman perched on a roof, looming like a gargoyle. He spreads his cape as he moves to the road before you. Looking down at you, though you can’t see his eyes, you know he’s trying to ensure you’re safe and unharmed.

“He’s going after Barbara. I thought he meant you, but he was out when I saw Barbara.”

“I’ll call Gordon. We need to get to Gotham Heights.”

“We’ll never make it in time. The alarm sounded twenty minutes ago.”

Bruce’s head turns toward you as he presses a button on his utility belt. The Batmobile turns a corner, coming to a stop beside you. Your eyes widen as the top opens, jumping in the passenger seat as you look at everything in awe.

“Barbara is stronger, and knows more than you think, but she can’t hold him off forever.”

You nod, prepared to do whatever you have to do. Even if it means making Bruce hate you.

“And I forgive you. Whatever you do, I understand,” Bruce says quietly. “Just- just remember that your actions affect more people than just you.”

✯✯✯✯✯

It’s a trap. The driveway beside Barbara’s place is decorated like the cookout where you met Joker.

“Go check on Babs, I’m right behind you,” you tell Batman.

He hesitates, noticing exactly where your focus is, before tapping your shoulder and running toward Barbara’s door. When Batman is out of sight, Joker’s laugh surrounds you.

“Did you do it?” Joker asks, stepping out of the shadows.

“No.”

“Whyever not?” he asks with a laugh.

“Because I’m not a killer. We are not the same.”

“Come over here,” he demands. You listen despite your body’s urging to leave. “And give me a real reason,” he adds when you stop across a picnic table from him.

“That is the real answer. I will not do to another family what you did to mine. I’m not a killer.”

“Now, now, now, that’s not true.”

His eyes are fixed on your mask, likely imagining your furrowed brows and scared eyes. “Is the mask necessary, Reaper? We know one another. It’s just family here.”

You swallow as you rip the mask off, levelling your gaze on Joker, determined not to show him how much he is affecting you.

“If you hurt her, I will end you.”

Joker flaps a dismissive hand. “She’s fine. I just needed a reason to celebrate, but you didn’t keep your end of the bargain.”

“I’m not-“

“A killer, yes, so you say. However, there’s a family out there that begs to differ.”

You lick your lips, unsure how he knows this. The record was redacted and eventually destroyed, so no one outside of your team at the time should know.

Joker’s laugh draws your attention back to him. “You are a killer. Just like me.”

Shaking your head, you flinch when Joker slaps his hands onto the table, leaning forward to get closer to you. 

“Joseph,” Joker whispers, smiling widely at your surprised movement.

Someone screams in the distance, and you remember your promise: to protect your home, no matter the cost. Unholstering the gun you hadn’t carried in years, you hold it to Joker’s forehead.

“Do it,” he begs, leaning against the barrel. “Show them how alike we are.”

Your arm shakes as you fight to do it. With a finger on the trigger, Joker should be gone already, but you can’t do it.

Lowering the gun, you sigh, preparing for Joker’s next idea or a surprise dose of his laughing toxin. He watches you until he reaches for something. Before you can lunge forward to stop him, a shot rings out in the Gotham night. You hear it as Joker jerks to the side, slumping to the ground. Turning toward the right, you search the skyline for the shooter. You see a familiar salute and laugh to yourself as the silhouette disappears.

 “Reaper!” Batman yells, rushing toward you. He slows as he sees you standing over Joker.

There’s a note, half blown apart. He took credit. You laugh again, oblivious to Batman’s concerned gaze on the back of your head. The laughter quickly turns to hiccups as you fight to remain composed. You walked out of Wayne Manor prepared to assassinate Joker. Now that you have essentially been an accomplice to his death and reminded of your worst mistake, you’re falling apart.

Bruce whispers your name, a hand on your arm as he turns you away. He raises a hand to your jaw as the first tear rolls down your cheek.

“I killed him,” you admit.

“No, you didn’t. That shot was too far away, no one will blame you.”

“I killed Joseph,” you repeat. “I didn’t see him, and there was so much fog and- I shouldn’t have taken the shot.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I left the Army and joined SWAT because I killed a civilian. I don’t know how Joker knew, but he was right. I am a killer.”

“Hey, hey.” When you don’t respond, Batman summons the Batmobile, whispering to Gordon on the phone as he helps you into the passenger seat.

Once you’re in Wayne Manor, dressed in a pair of sweatpants and one of Bruce’s shirts, he pulls you into his arms.

“You’re not like Joker, and you’re not a killer. Friendly fire is a terrible thing, but it’s not your fault. You can’t keep blaming yourself for that. Saving people has its costs, and if I could take the guilt from you, I would.”

“I don’t even know how it happened,” you confess, “I dream about it all the time, but I don’t remember actually pulling the trigger.”

“You may never know. But either way, you can forgive yourself and move on.”

Wiping under your eyes, you lean against Bruce’s chest as you ask, “What did Gordon say? How’s Babs?””

“Their ballistics team is examining the velocity and angle to find where the shot came from. Barbara didn’t even know anything was happening, she’s fine.”

“The roof of Verdant in The Narrows,” you whisper, laying an open hand over Bruce’s heart.

“That’s too far for a shot like that.”

“Not for Army snipers.”

“Friend of yours?”

“Used to be,” you shrug before adding, “Lawton started killing for money, and I couldn’t support that.”

“Wait,” Bruce interjects, pushing you back slightly, ducking to look into your eyes. “You’re telling me that Deadshot just killed Joker? For free?”

“He doesn’t do anything for free,” you answer, smiling. “But I didn’t pay him if that’s what you think. Besides, he left a calling card of sorts.”

“Not at all. Batman will call Gordon tomorrow and let him know.”

“What’s Batman doing tonight?”

“He’s on vacation,” Bruce sighs, leaning his forehead against yours. “And Bruce Wayne is catching up with an old friend.”

Smiling, you turn sideways to press your chest against Bruce, laying your arms over his shoulders.

“I think that sounds like a great night.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“I found something,” Bruce says, removing his cowl as you enter the Batcave.

“A life?” you joke.

“Ha. No, I had a friend of mine go searching for that destroyed Army record.”

“Why?” you ask quietly, wringing your fingers together.

“Because you didn’t kill Joseph. Your gun never went off, and the shot came from a different direction with a much higher velocity. This looked like sniper.”

“You think it was Lawton?”

“Wouldn’t be surprising.” Bruce tilts your head toward him and looks you in the eye to add, “But the important thing is that you have no reason to keep carrying that burden.”

“Thank you. I don’t know what to say.”

“Come on patrol with me.”

“I thought you didn’t want me to get hurt.”

“You won’t. Not with me around.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“Hey, Bats.”

“Catwoman,” Batman answers.

“Reaper was looking for you a few nights ago.”

“Yeah, we ran into each other. Thanks, though.”

“She said you weren’t together like we were, but I find that very hard to believe.”

“Give them back,” you say, surprising both Catwoman and Batman.

“Give what back?” she parrots.

You hold your hand out. “The pearl necklace and earrings you stole. They’re not worth anything to the woman, but they’re sentimental.”

Catwoman huffs, pulling a small bag from her pouch and tossing it to you. “I chose them for you anyway.”

“What?”

“You said to steal something for you too.”

“I thought my best friend was about to get murdered, I didn’t mean it!”

“And did you mean what you said about not being with Bats here?” She places a hand on her hip, and you take the opportunity to look at Batman before answering.

“He’s just not my type,” you answer, shrugging one shoulder.

You see his jaw twitch before he nods his farewell to Catwoman.

“I didn’t mean it,” you whisper as you walk past him. “And we’ve got a crocodile to catch.”

Batman sighs. “Welcome to Gotham.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“Whose are they?” Bruce asks as you examine the pearl jewellery.

“Mine,” you answer, not looking at him. “What are the chances she’d use my permission to thieve to rob me?”

“Not bad with Sel- Catwoman.”

“Selina Kyle, yeah, I know.”

“Sentimental, huh?”

You turn toward Bruce, passing him the necklace.

“I told your mom that I liked her pearls, like five months before she was killed, and the next day she surprised me. She picked me up from school and told me we were going shopping. They’re the cheapest ones the store had, but I’ve loved them ever since because they came from someone I loved and… I guess they made me feel a bit more like her, and she was amazing.”

When you look back at Bruce, he’s still holding the necklace, but his gaze is on you. He sets the necklace down, stepping toward you. Gripping your waist, he pulls you against him with a wide smile.

“You’re amazing too.”

“Not like her.”

“There’s no one quite like her. But she loved you too, more than you know. Actually, she thought we were going to get married,” Bruce adds, nudging his nose against yours.

“I did too,” you whisper.

Bruce kisses you quickly, pulling back to gauge your reaction.

“Based on the newspapers, I thought you’d be better than that,” you tease.

Bruce clicks his tongue before pulling you into another kiss. While he takes your breath, he fills you with love and hope. His hands keep you as close as possible, one sliding up to hold your head as he deepens the kiss, whispering something against your lips.

“Wait,” you mumble, moving your hands from his jaw to his chest. “What did you say?”

Bruce smirks, the charm that no one gets to see any more on display. “That I love you.”

Your eyes widen, and you grip his shoulders as you rise to kiss him, informing him that you feel the same. “I love you more,” you say against his lips, melting into him as you become one.

“My mom would want you to have her pearls,” Bruce whispers, rubbing his thumb in large sweeping motions against your upper hip. “And she’d want us to see where this goes.”

“Your mom was very smart,” you muse, putty in Bruce’s hands as he moves to the couch, tugging you into his lap.

“Did you love my mom enough to take her last name eventually?”

“This is more important – I love you enough.”

“Finally!” Alfred exclaims as he walks in with a tray of tea and biscuits. “It is about time you officially join the family and take the name.”

[rafesslxt]

🐰 secret bunny⎥rafe cameron

part 2 ⎥"bunny 🐰"

「 ✦ 𝐇𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞.✦ 」

summary: A Costume Party? Rafe as Ghostface? Where can I sign? Both of them see each other for the first time again, which brings up some old memories.

word count : 3k

warning: sexual tension, language, ghostface!rafe, alcohol, best friends brother, making out, seven minutes in heaven - game, touching, English is not my first language

Scarlett's POV:

Full of anticipation, I walked through the city in hope of finding a good costume. After I woke up, Sarah called me and apologized for Topper's behavior where I told her that I was also a little bit ashamed of JJ's actions.

She asked me if I would like to come earlier and get ready together. Of course I agreed. She recommended a store in town where they sell costumes, which I was now standing in front of.

I went in and had a look around. I didn't want anything too flashy but still something that would be recognizable. I found myself standing in front of a bunny costume. It consisted of a headband with big fluffy ears, a furry nose and a flower for the bottom.

I paid for it and left the store. I quickly called a cab to take me to Sarah's.

When I arrived, I looked at the Cameron's estate. Now that I was older, I realized for the first time how huge Tanny Hill actually was. I walked slowly through the front garden, which was bigger than John B's entire home. Sometimes I wondered how fair this world really was. Why can Sarah and I live in big houses and John B and JJ live in small huts and have to fend for themselves?

I rang the doorbell and waited a moment before it opened and two arms wrapped around my waist. "Wheezie! How big you've gotten!" I looked down in amazement and looked at Sarah's little sister. "Sarah is upstairs in her room waiting for you. I'll be in the kitchen if you need me." "Thank you." I smiled at her before going upstairs to Sarah's room. Everything felt so familiar but so strange at the same time. As a child, I had never thought about what happens when I wasn't in outer banks.

But now, especially after last night, I wondered more and more what I had missed.

I opened the first door in the hallway. " Hey Sarah." I smiled at her as she came towards me. " Hey." She hugged me tightly and exhaled deeply. " Sorry again for the mess yesterday. This is not how I had imagined our reunion." " It's all right. As I said, JJ wasn't entirely innocent either." " How is John B? Is everything all right with him?" " Yes, a black eye and a few bruises. Nothing he can't get over." " Good good." She nodded. " So? Did you find a costume?"

I unpacked my things, including my costume, and showed her my options. " Hmm.. the pink satin dress would look super cute together with the bunny ears. "

"Yes, that was my favorite too. I think I'll leave out the nose though." We laughed and held them in front of each other's faces.

" Who is actually coming to the party?" " Pretty much everyone. I just hope everything stays a bit more peaceful today than yesterday. " She sighed and put on her costume. She had a headband with a halo on it and big white angel wings that she put on over a short white dress. We got ready for the party together, put on our make-up and styled our hair. I left mine down with my natural waves. 

I was putting on my lipstick when Sarah came into the room and spun around. "And? How do I look?" She looked really great. Almost like an real angel.

" Fantastic. If you weren't with Topper, I'd almost say you were taking someone home with you tonight. " Her cheeks flushed and she looked into the mirror. "You know that feeling when something just doesn't feel right? Like it shouldn't be."

I stood up slowly and stepped behind her. " Are you thinking about Topper?" I asked cautiously. " She shrugged her shoulders. " You know, I've only been in one relationship so far, but what I do know is that the right one never makes you doubt whether he's the right one or not.", I told her.

"He tries so hard, but I always have the feeling that it's more about appearances. The most important thing is that we look good together and show up everywhere together. I don't know if that's what love is supposed to feel like." Without wanting to tell her anything wrong, I hugged her from behind and rested my head on her shoulder. "I have a feeling you already know the answer to that."

2 hours later

The first guests arrived an hour ago and the house was getting fuller by the minute. After we'd finished, Sarah and I decorated the house and got everything ready. She took care of the snacks and I took care of the drinks. Sarah took Wheezie to a friend of her's.

Like us, most of the guests had masks on or were wearing light make-up.

The party went great. Sarah introduced me to a few of her friends and I caught up with some old faces. " Hey Scar I know you probably don't like Topper very much now, but he's just coming through the door." she whispered to me before he stood next to us with Kelce. He kissed her and pulled her close to him. He was wearing a black costume with some blood and 2 small horns on his head. Kelce next to him was dressed as a vampire. "Ah, good and evil I presume?" I pointed between Topper and Sarah, whereupon Sarah looked sheepishly at Topper. "Yes, we wanted to be recognizable as a couple," Topper said, hugging Sarah from the side. 

"The most important thing is that we look good together and show up everywhere together. I don't know if this is what love is supposed to feel like." Sarah's words replayed in my head.

"So, did you bring any of your friends with you?" Topper asked me, looking down at me cocky. " Why? Do you want to die again?" I knew I was going a bit too far, but if there was one thing I didn't like, it was arrogance. Whether it was wrong or right of JJ to hold a gun to Topper's head was one thing. But running your mouth the next day after almost wetting your pants is beyond crazy to me.

" Excuse me?!" He was visibly angry and took a step towards me, letting go of Sarah. " Topper..." Sarah intervened but I also took a step towards him. "No, that's okay Sarah. He's welcome to learn that even a girl can beat his ass up." I could see the red color rising in his face. " Oh yeah? How about we- " before he could continue, he was interrupted by a male voice.

" Hey hey hey, why don't we all calm down first?" Someone said with a foreign voice, dressed as ghostface. He was wearing black jeans, a black shirt and the mask. He put his hand on Topper's shoulder, where I immediately noticed the golden rings on his fingers. They looked familiar but I just couldn't think of who they belonged to.

"How about you two lovebirds and Kelce get out of here and I'll take care of our little bunny?" He let go of Topper and put an arm around my shoulders. " Ra-" " Like I said, I'll take care of it," he emphasized again.

They just nodded and disappeared. Sarah turned around and whispered "I'm sorry" to me. "So that's how you greet old friends in the Outer Banks, huh?" I turned my attention to Ghostface next to me. " Old friends? I don't know when I've ever been friends with Topper," I said, walking along with him. He walked me out of the house, into the garden, where only a few people were standing to smoke or talk.

We sat down on a bench with a table in front of it and a tarp over it. His arm was still around my shoulders, so he pulled me closer and whispered in my ear, "Maybe not with Topper, but I would have thought my greeting would be a little sweeter." His voice was deep and somewhat muffled by the mask. Nevertheless, goose bumps formed all over my body. "Why should I greet a stranger?" "Am I? Am I a stranger?" He confused me more and more. "Who the hell are you?" " Oh bunny, I didn't think you would forget your first kiss so quickly."

My first ki- "Rafe?!" I looked at him, startled, and pulled the mask off his face. " Did you miss me?" There was a big grin on his lips as he scanned my shoked face. "I almost didn't recognize you when you were standing next to my sister last night. " " You were there last night too?" " Yes, but not long enough to see the fight. "

I didn't know what to say. He was the first person in a long time to leave me speechless. I also had no idea what he wanted from me. " What do you want from me?" I asked straight out.

He pulled me closer again and looked down at me. His eyes were always to fall in love with. Wait. Pull yourself together Scar. It's still Rafe. I took a closer look at his face and quickly realized how grown up he had become. He was incredibly handsome and only now did I realize how good he smelled. I looked into my cup and thought about how much I had to drink.

"Why do I have to want something? Isn't it possible that I just want to chat with you and find out how you are?" I've always been good at reading people and I knew straight away that he was lying and wanted something. "I'm fine Rafey, how are you?" I started to grin because I knew how much he hated it when I used to call him like that. He rolled his eyes and straightened up a little. "Now that you're here, I couldn't be feeling better, bunny. And I see you're just as cheeky as you've been for the last few years."

"Hmm, I'm beginning to think you've missed me," I replied. He softly put his hand on my knee, brushed his fingers over my skin and looked me in the eyes. Why couldn't I move? Why did his gaze captivate me so much? He lowered his head to the level of mine until his lips were right next to my ear again. " Would that be so bad? The last time I saw you, you were 14 and you just got your first kiss from me. " I tried to look away as my cheeks got hot but he took my chin between his fingers and turned my head around. " How 'bout trying again? You can't imagine how much better I am now."

His hot breath bounced against my skin. I bit my lower lip and tried to breathe normal. "Why so shy now hm?" he whispered. "Or didn't you like our first kiss as much as I did?"

We all sat in a big circle and waited excited until Chalsey had finished with the notes. After what felt like an eternity, she came into the room and placed an empty bottle in the middle of our round. "The rules are simple. Everyone takes a piece of paper from the bowl and reads out loud what it says, then spins the bottle and has to do what it says with the person the bottle is pointing at."

I was 14 at the time, as were most of the others in the room. The oldest were 16.

Linda next to me pulled a piece of paper out of the bowl first. She unfolded it and read out loud "kiss". A chorus went around the room as everyone waited to see who the bottle would land on. She crumpled up the scrap of paper again and put it back before taking the bottle in her hand, spinning it vigorously and waiting tensely. The bottle slowed down and stopped at... Kelce. Everyone looked up at the two of them and cheered.

Linda stood up shy and walked over to Kelce, who was sitting nervous in an armchair. His boys pushed him towards Linda. He stood up and slowly approached her face. When their lips touched, everyone started cheering and whistling again. They both sat back in their seats and looked sheepishly at each other.

"Scar, it's your turn." Chalsey said, holding out the bowl of notes to me. Excitedly, I took one out and opened it carefully. There it was and I couldn't believe my eyes. "Tell us, what did you get?" Sarah, who was sitting opposite me, asked me excited. "7 minutes in heaven."

My heart was beating incredibly fast as I took the bottle and spun it. I hoped it wouldn't be someone I didn't like. The bottle slowed down and my heart beat faster by the second. It stopped and my gaze followed the direction it was pointing at. Now my heart dropped in my pants. "Uuuhhh" everyone started giggling and whispering. Rafe. The bottle stopped at Rafe.

"My brother? Ew!" Sarah looked at her brother in disgust and shook her head. " You can use the wardrobe at the end of the hall. There are usually only umbrellas in there. We both stood up and walked towards each other. Rafe took my hand and pulled me behind him to the closet. He opened the door and let me in first. It wasn't really big, so I was slightly pressed against Rafe's torso as he got into the closet and closed the door.

Some light fell in through the crack in the closet and I could see Rafe's face. "Hi." I said shy. "Hey." He smiled a little and carefully put both hands on my hips. " We don't have to do this if you-" " No no no- I mean- it's okay Rafe. I'm not a kid anymore." The truth was, I'd always had a little crush on Rafe. I knew he was Sarah's brother, but I couldn't help it. Besides, I was sure he saw me as nothing more than his little sister's girlfriend. And I was only a year younger than Rafe.

I didn't want him to think I was a little girl who was scared, so I placed my hands on his chest. I could feel his heart beating fast under my palms. Was he nervous? His face moved closer to mine until I could feel his breath against my lips. " Have you ever kissed anyone?" I shook my head. " No." A smile formed on his lips before he brushed them against mine.

My heart felt like I was about to have a heart attack. "You smell good." Rafe whispered and looked me straight in the eyes. I got goosebumps as his grip on my hips tightened. "You too."

His lips finally touched mine and he closed the distance between us. He placed a hand on my cheek and stroked it with his thumb. His lips were soft and he tasted of the popcorn we all ate earlier. His second hand slowly stroked my stomach, which was exposed by my crop top. It startled me briefly, causing my mouth to open slightly. Rafe took his chance and ran the tip of his tongue over my bottomlip and then into my mouth.

I didn't know what to do so I did the same as he did, whereupon his grip on my cheek tightened a little and he pressed his body against mine. He let go of my lips and breathed just as quickly as I did. "You're a really good kisser," he moaned.

Out of breath, I could hardly answer and just nodded shyly. "Hey! Seven minutes are up!" Chalsey's voice rang out from behind the wardrope. "Too bad you're going home tomorrow," Rafe whispered in my ear and kissed my cheek.

I snapped out of my thoughts when Rafe stroke my cheek. " I think you did." he smiled and looked at me. "My question is still open though, what do you really want from me?" His eyebrows furrowed and his expression became a little more irritated. "Bunny, I told you I don't want to -" "Hey! Get your slimy hands off her!" I jerked my head to the side. " JJ?" Now I was the one who was irritated. "What are you doing here?" " I wanted to talk to you, to find out how you're doing. We haven't spoken all day." Rafe stood up next to me and looked at JJ. "Are you surprised she doesn't want to talk to you after you put a gun to Topper's head yesterday?" "You stay out of this Rafe!"

I stood up and put a hand on Rafe's chest to hold him back. "Rafe, please go inside. I'll sort it out." " Are you sure?" I nodded and smiled at him briefly. " Okay, I'll be inside if you need me." " Thanks, Rafe." He went inside and left me and JJ alone.

"JJ...what were you thinking?" I sat back down on the bench. "I don't know. I just saw him almost drown John B and then, well... that was the first thing that came to my mind." "Why did you even have a fucking gun on you?" " It's a long story but John B and I found it a a few weeks ago." I shook my head and eyed him. I could tell he was really sorry, but that didn't really change anything for now.

" JJ, I'll be home tomorrow or tonight. I'll write to let you know. But please go now." He sighed but listened to me." Love you, Scar. See you later." "Love you too, JJ." I watched him leave the property and then went back inside myself.

" Scar! Is everything all right? I'm so sorry I left you alone with Rafe, it was so stupid of me." I smiled and looked at my hands. " It's all right. He wasn't that bad to be honest." " Wow. Are you sure we're talking about the same person?" " Uhm, Sarah.. can I sleep here tonight?" " Yes, of course. When the party's over, we'll make ourselves comfortable and it'll be just like old times." I could tell she was happy and I hoped she was right.

At least one thing was going to be like it used to be. _

thank you so much for reading, let me know If you want part 3

xoxo Sarah

Secret Bunny Masterlist

[mothxmoons]

Wolf pack!

You’re a wolfwalker. Are you a fable? No. Just what more ancient werewolf stories were based off of, only when you’re asleep does your form take that of a wolf until you return to your sleeping body.

An average day of work, you’d say, rather boring actually, not many people coming in today. The only thing keeping you from not falling asleep was the magazine from the desk, nothing much in there either, though you did enjoy people watching. There was something up with this part of town, not in a creepy small town kind of way, no, no. The people here, besides every average Joe you come across, are different. The way they talk is off when they say certain things or how they act with one another. You’ve seen a few fights, a few tumbles, holes and more and seen them walk away fine.

This is also the only part of New York that has a sheriff that isn’t a policeman. Which is strange but you only ever see him when he comes in to buy his cigarettes, which is rare since he buys them in bulk, also weird but his health isn’t your concern.

Another strange thing was how some people talk to him, most will just brush him off or greet him before continuing on their way, but some will be actively rude to him. Not something you would think of doing when he’s their sheriff, but you’ve never said anything.

There was something strange about this part of town…but then again, you were probably just as strange. A wolfwalker in New York, a wolf in the city, typically that would be cause for concern but thanks to wildlife preservation near where you live just outside the city, so you were fine, you had the city and all the comforts of a human and the outdoors with all the comforts for a wolf. Though…unlike a certain someone who would sometimes be around when the sheriff was in the store, you didn’t think these guys were vampires. You weren’t that crazy. Immortals maybe, but in a different way.

Well…it actually really obvious when you think about it, they didn’t even try to hide things. Come on, Snow White. The sheriff’s name being Bigby Wolf, it’s pretty obvious. Not to mention the whole frog you see walking around sometimes. But who were you to judge? You had a secret too, and you didn’t really think about hiding it, not that anyone could catch you and link it to you. Hell, you were wearing a crest from your family that was closely linked to Wolfwalkers but only people who had that kind of obscure knowledge would know.

Then again, maybe you should be careful around these guys, since they are just a bunch of fairy tale characters all together in a single community so they just might have access to that obscure knowledge. Speak of the devil, there’s Sheriff Bigby.

“Hey sheriff, the usual?” You asked, looking up from the magazine you still held, though you were more zoned out than you were actually reading it.

“Hm, yeah. And this coffee pack, of course.” The tired, scruffy man replied with a small shrug, his eyes caught on the magazine to your hands before finally looking up to your eyes. “That’s an odd ring.”

“Oh, yeah, family heirloom.” You shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant about it as you took his items to ring up for him.

“And I’m guessing it's not a very interesting magazine. You were staring at one page when I walked in.” He commented, gesturing with his head, his hands in his pockets. He was really observant, maybe too observant for your own good.

“No. Slow day, got zoned out.” You said, placing his items, coffee and his favorite brand of cigarettes, into a bag for him. From the way you were around everyone so often and didn’t seem to kick up any fuss about seeing strange things, Bigby was sure you knew, and you didn’t know how you knew he knew. But you were sure.

“Hopefully you’ll have a similar day, Bigby.”

“One can only hope.” He sighed as he took the bag with a deep sigh, placing the money on the counter before walking out the door. He seemed more tired than usual, maybe something happened and he had to clean it up. As per usual.

It wasn’t until you fell asleep in your home did you see him again. You didn’t know why, you never usually venture into the city as a wolf, but something just told you to.

With one last look to your sleeping figure, you slipped out of your home, running down the path, panting as you made it to the sidewalks. Maybe it was the confirmation you wanted, to know what these guys were. Whatever the case, you were a wolf running around the city, knocking some people over and startling a few others but no one seemed bothered. Probably too used to seeing strange things happening to really care. Your nose led you to an alleyway, where a certain sheriff was, like you back at home, laying down. He was on the ground though and seemed a little rougher up and groaning slightly.

You tilted your gaze upwards to see where he fell from, a broken glass on the third story seemed to be your answer. You approached him slowly, sniffing at his face, being the usual bother as he started to come to, pushing your face away as he pulled himself up into a sitting position. He blinked, once, twice and then looked quickly over to you, eyes wide as he stared at you. Your ear flickered with a blink from you, taking a moment to see if he was okay. Your head tilted to the side as you looked him over, he seemed okay, though probably shocked from seeing a wolf in the city, leaning forward to sniff at him again.

“Hey there, pup. What are you doing this far into the city?” Bigby asked, groaning as he stood up, dusting himself off. He leaned forward, to look down at you, your gaze following him closely, his hand slowly coming to your head and rubbing your ears. His hand was so slow, almost scared that you would shy away from him, or get scared and run off, but seeing you stay and lean into his hand he had a different idea. “Say, why don’t you be my little helper for the night?”

Your response of course was a bark and your tail wagging which was shaking your whole body.

“Alright, alright, I get it, pup.” He chuckled, leading you out of the alleyway. “I just need to bring a perp in and then do…a lot of paperwork. If you’re alright with being in my company.”

If you could nod you would, but you could only wag your tail, walking close to him.

Bigby couldn’t explain it, but this random wolf in the city could not be a coincidence, sure, strange things happen all the time here, but this was different. He knows that smell, he’s so sure he’s smelled this wolf before, he just couldn’t place it. As he stalked down the sidewalk, looking for the guy he was searching for, his eyes always started back down to the wolf that stuck by his side without a second thought.

Maybe it was because he himself is a wolf that made this wolf feel so comfortable around him. Or maybe something else was going on, this familiar scent that came from the wolf…he knew it. But where?

His eyes drifted up again to see the guy he was chasing down, the other tweedle twin, whichever one it was. Bigby immediately sprang into a run, alerting the twin to start running to, and he could hear his new wolf friend following closely, probably even faster.

“Atta pup!” He called as the wolf overtook his speed and was right on the heels of the tweedle twin, causing a yelp of shock from the very round man.

“I didn’t know a dog needed a dog!” He yelled as he ran, trying to keep his attention split from running away and keeping his ankles away from the wolf.

The man skidded into an alleyway hoping for an easy escape only for the wolf to not stop its speed and leapt off the wall and onto him, tongue hanging out, having its best life, knocking the tweedle twin to the ground.

“Aw…thanks…pup… whhooo.” Bigby breathed heavily, catching his breath as he jogged over to the wolf. The wolf’s tail was wagging with their tongue hanging out of its mouth as they looked up at him, happy and proud.

“Didn’t know you had your own lap dog. Thought you were the lap dog.” The tweedle twin laughed at him, trying to get up from under the wolf accompanying the sheriff for the night.

“Actually, this here is a wolf. And probably not done growing, I think you got lucky.” Bigby said, grabbing the twin by his arms and heaving him up to start the twin’s walk of shame to the office. The wolf happily trotted after him.

Though Bigby never liked having attention on him, when he put the tweedle twin with his brother in a cell, he did find a sense of humor in the faces of the people waiting outside of Snow’s office. Seeing a wolf…following a wolf. Bigby opened up his office door for the wolf, watching it walk in before sitting down himself, sighing heavily as he pulled out his paperwork.

He doesn’t know how long he had been working on his paperwork, but it seemed to go by quicker with the wolf next to him, snoozing away. Sometimes the wolf would look up to him and set their face on his lap when he groaned or sighed at some of the requests and complaints. Which earned a little rub at the ear, but all things must come to an end.

Bigby was planning on letting the wolf stay with him but he didn’t want to pry the wolf away from the forest like he had been so many years ago. So when the time came to go home, he walked the wolf all the way down to the path to the forest. The wolf wagging its tail still, rubbing around in a circle happily, nuzzling his hand once more before bolting off. Bigby waved at the wolf off with a soft, gentle smile, before heading home, scratching at his neck.

The next day, very early in the morning, Bigby felt like eating something fast to get the rest of his work done before having to go out and patrol for any dangers or complaints. So he went down to the small shop he’d buy his coffee and cigarettes from when he smelled that familiar smell from that wolf last night. He followed the scent closely, maybe it was because he hadn’t smoked his cigarette yet so his senses were sharper now, and now he could see why that wolf smelled so familiar.

His nose led him right to the store, with the shopkeeper outside, opening the door. You. You turned, smiling warmly, knowingly and waved at him, just like how he did to the wolf, before walking into the store. A wide smile still on your face as you looked at him through the window, and in turn, a smile crept up on his face as well.

“Well, I guess I have a reason to start talking to them now.” He said to himself, following after you with a soft smile, finally…he wasn’t the only wolf.

[cevansbrat0007]

I am of course wanting to learn more about Ari and his Bird because Sweet Renegade lives rent free in my brain 😍💖

10. Do they share any hobbies or interests? How do these things bring them together?

14. Do they enjoy PDA, or are they more private with affection?

10. Do they share any hobbies or interests? How do these things bring them together?

They actually share a passion for the great outdoors. Although our girl is every inch a bookworm, she does enjoy going on the occasional hike. Which is perfect for a nomad like Ari, who gets a little twitchy if he's forced to stay indoors for too long.

He's actually trying to convince her to go camping with him. Bird is thisclose to saying yes. Her Beast has dreams of teaching her how to fish, before building her an amazing fire to make them dinner, and then make love to her under the stars.

Additionally, they also love watching documentaries. The next one on the docket is season two of The Jinx.

14. Do they enjoy PDA, or are they more private with affection?

It's taken some time, but Bird has grown increasingly more comfortable with public displays of affection. She still occasionally tenses up when they're in town, depending on where they are and the time of day.

If they're out grocery shopping at 5:00pm, Ari will settle for resting a hand on the small of her back or keeping a hold of one of her hands. But if it's later in the evening, say around 9:00pm, when the store is mostly empty, it's a different story.

The gentlemanly hand that is normally reserved for the small of her back now rests on her hip. And instead of lacing his fingers through hers, he uses his big body to trap her between himself and the cart as they shop. Meanwhile, she's too busy giggling and occasionally grinding her ass against him, to tell him to stop and sound like she means it.

That said, Ari and Bird are the most comfortable when they are hanging out just outside of town limits where nobody knows them. Now, when they're out exploring nearby fun, that same proprietary hand that was once reserved for Bird's lower back and hip can now be found tucked securely in the back pocket of her jeans.

When they feel free to be themselves, Bird has no problem pressing kisses to their clasped hands. The same way Ari has no problem sneaking up on his woman to nuzzle at the crook of her neck before whispering something dirty in ear.

In those moments, she doesn't ask him to stop - not even in jest. Instead Ari is treated to a soft, breathy moan followed by three little words: "tell me more."