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therobotmonster · 8 months
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On the subject of comic books and emphasis.
Getting some use out of my Tyrannomax extras.
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robo-dino-puppy · 4 months
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colors in repair bay TAU
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unusualshrimp · 1 year
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i have a theory that if you touch any part of your body regularly enough it becomes weirdly sensitive. and i know how this is worded but i dont necessarily mean in a sexual way
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shadowofwar-goober · 2 years
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That Moment When Your Little Brother is Thousands of Years Late, but Still Manages to Arrive Just In Time (Orc OCs)
A little brother that's thousands of years younger, a little feral, and also a pyromancer? It's more likely than you think. Hûra has waited almost too long, but Norûk was well worth the wait and heartache.
  Every uruk and olog was a threat to his and Ar-Beka’s safety. Norûk growled and hissed when they would draw too near or when their eyes would linger on them for just a moment too long. He hated everyone that wasn’t Ar-Beka. 
   Until he met his big brother. 
   It was more of a feeling than anything else. In place of the overwhelming fear and hatred that he felt towards others there was something far more gentle, almost familiar, about that uruk that made Norûk look up at him with a wonder that he’s only felt towards Ar-Beka. 
   He felt it too, it would seem. 
   They were similar in both appearance and temperament it would seem. Hûra’s hair was as black as his own, perhaps like tar pitch or coal dust- obsidian…- long and down to his thighs! His eyes were striking, that of amber or fire, but they were so warm and kind… Perhaps tired… Hûra smiled, bittersweet and gentle when Norûk reached out to take one of his hands in his.
   That day was a special one. Norûk never thought he would have a brother, but Hûra said through a smile and tears that he had been waiting for him for so long… Waiting… for him? His brother was the second person in his entire life that he had hugged. Norûk was exhausted from the day’s events, but he was happy. 
   Ar-Beka and Hûra talked. Norûk didn’t know what about- he didn’t care. He slept on the olog’s lap and when he reawoke, they were walking. He felt pain in his chest. His brother…? Still here! Walking beside Ar-Beka, they conversed about things Norûk couldn’t keep up with. 
   “-picking up.” 
   “Hrmph. More to the vats, then, it would seem. It never ends.” Ar-Beka’s hand protectively held Norûk to his chest tightly. As nice as his steady and rhythmic steps were, it made the pup nauseous. He closed his eyes and clung to the olog’s apron with his hands- Oh. 
   His one hand… 
 …
   The days traveling with his brother had been some of the best of his short life. It's like they’ve known one another for as long as they’ve been alive! Hûra was a shaman- THE Bone Shaman! In his excitement, Norûk forgot to hide his emotions and the fire burned and roared with unnatural intensity. 
   Hûra was intrigued and fascinated by his little brother’s gift. Pyromancy… Something ancient and powerful. And already he has moderate control over it… How has it gone unnoticed by Sauron and his generals?
   “I hid it deep inside. I was scared… No, not of it, but… the Shriekers…” Norûk rocked and gripped at his thigh. He would have done the same with his other side but… His arm… 
   Hûra never asked. It’s not that he ignored it, rather he acknowledged it with a glance upon their first meeting and did nothing more. It was a relief for Norûk. Many looked upon him with pity. Others looked at him as though he was easy prey. Some muttered about him “being thrown back to the vats”. Others call out asking if he wants to be “evened up!” 
   Norûk “”accidentally”” set one of those smug pricks on fire. 
   He held onto Hûra's hand. It felt as natural as latching onto one of Ar-Beka’s much, much larger ones. His claws were long and polished black, reminiscent of hawks' nails. Norûk noticed scars on both of his hands but didn’t dare to let his eyes linger on them for too long. He idly thumbed the length of one of his brother’s nails as they continued towards the East. 
   “...others?”
   Norûk clung to his brother’s robes. Hûra smoothed down the pup’s wild black hair with a stroke of his hand.
   “One is my blood brother and the other is my own son, just as you are to Ar-Beka. They are trustworthy and kind, Norûk, I assure you.” He didn’t think his brother was lying to him but… 
   Norûk dug his claws into the fabric of Hûra’s thigh. He doesn’t want to be around anyone else! He has his brother and his- his father…! Norûk doesn’t need anyone else! 
   It was enough to make his knees buckle and for tears to spring to his eyes. Norûk buried his face into his brother’s leg and wailed.
   “N-NOOO!! I D-DON’T WANT ANYONE ELSE!!! BROTHER! F-FATHER-R-R…!”  As Norûk collapsed to the ground, his voice cracked. Along with the fires of the smithy that were now raging out of control. 
   Hûra and Ar-Beka managed to pull the pup away from prying eyes as everyone was focused on the sudden and chaotic outbreak of the flames. 
   “W-Wha-?! How?!” 
   “Was it the Dark Lord?!”
   “...a blessing or a curse?!”
   Norûk needed to be carried the rest of the way for every time he was set down to walk, he would fall to the ground in a sobbing heap as he clung to his elders’ legs. He couldn’t bear it. He couldn’t bear the possibility of them leaving him behind. 
   The others left Norûk behind when he lost his arm. Dead weight. They pulled a knife on him, a feral look in their eyes as they screamed at him to go away! Leave us alone! Norûk had to dive into the river to avoid the Gondorian reinforcements that ultimately killed his former company. 
“We love you Norûk… We will always be at your side.” He believed those words. Norûk clung to them as tightly as he clung to that old olog’s shoulder. The fear of abandonment didn’t recede but didn’t grow, either. He… can make do.  Norûk can coexist with others. As long as his brother and father remain at his side he can do anything, he’s sure of it. Even if he will hate every waking moment of it.
@space-arsonist @elvenmoans @sinick
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johnfpederson · 3 months
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fistful of rat tails (6)
run from the truth
buttress all your defenses
don't second guess just
follow me
tear out your eyes
build a wall and a fence and
board up the windows
then you'll see
i can't change you
if i could it wouldn't last
it's a shame to
watch you slip into my past
there is no spark left in these eyes
tell me why fight when you can hide?
in a world so devoid of honest men you can't trust anyone
this is one night terror you can't shake
this is one mare you'll never break
in a world so depraved the only hope you have is giving in
steal from yourself
from your friends and your family
lie 'til it's easy
scrape and claw
drink to forget
your despair and regrets and
pine 'til your deathbed
softly calls
in a vat of broken dreams
come ferment your rotten soul with me
we'll get drunk on apathy
and leave our hearts to rot inside our chests
of a thousand ways to die
make it slow and one day at time
only question half the lies
and sleep at night with one eye open
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dbphantom · 1 year
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Thinking very hard about a ffxv version of the xam'd lost memories opening and crying because i will never have the skills to make it reality
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#cruddy rambles#im finally feeling well enough to sit up straight (literally after i went to the dr today grrr) AND THIS HAS BEEN HAUNTING ME#yes i have just been staring at it motionless for the past 45 minutes. yes it's only a minute and thirty seconds. it's a good opening ok#i literally have it playing on loop on my other monitor in vlc bc it is not available online anywhere i could find#and thankfully 3ish years ago i downloaded it to my laptop for a different pet project that ALSO went nowhere#i literally. in my mind's eye it fits SO WELL#luna and noct throwing the notebook to each other. gladio yeeting his shield to hit the behemoth prompto is running from.#prompto is probably on a chocobo bc ofc he would be and pissed off a behemoth#ignis running in with the groceries in hand or with an apron on with a ladel. gentiana looking off camera in the field of sylleblossoms.#PROMPTO TAKING PICTURES WITH THE CAMERA. RAVUS OFFERING LUNA A PIECE OF FRUIT AND HER LOOKING AWAY#aranea in the bg with biggs and wedge in the group shot. iris in the front with a stuffed moogle. cor is there probably#king regis looking up paralleled by ardyn in the next shot and when he reflects his face in the sword its all starscourgey#bitch boy verstael and emperor aldercapt looking at a cloning vat/a vat of miasma/magitek stuff in general#noct in the sky using the armiger and he and ignis stare at each other and nod and then noct sprints and catches the notebook from luna#it's literally. so. perfect. im so mad.#[lies on floor and dies]
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sleepingdead96 · 2 months
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Prepared for Anything Pt. 3
Part 1, Part 2, Part 4, MasterPost
What was with Danny’s luck and fires? He wondered as he searched a warehouse he’d come across for survivors. He’d been flying home(invisibly of course) when a nearby building had exploded. Flames licked at the grease spattered floor and ate at old crates, but the biggest issue was the smoke. It billowed thickly like the smog that filled Gotham’s skies, and impeded even Danny’s enhanced vision. He could taste the ash in the air. He knew there were people here. He heard someone coughing and the sound of fighting going on ahead. 
He forged onward, dashing towards the sounds, and the layers of smoke lessened enough for Danny to see what was taking place.
The first thing he noticed was the scuffle. About a dozen of what were clearly henchmen fired guns and grappled with. . .
Danny sighed.
More vigilantes.
One wore purple and had long, blonde hair. The other wore black with gold accents, and a mask covered her face. Both sides of the fight wore rebreathers.
The second thing Danny noticed was the red vigilante with bandoliers across his chest, bound with chains, and hanging by the ceiling. He hung over a vat of boiling oil that was alit with flames.
. . .
. . .
What was this? Some scene from a childrens’ cartoon?
Danny hurried forward, egged on by the lung Red was hacking up, one who very much was not wearing a rebreather.
Danny pointed a finger at the chain suspending the poor vigilante, and shot a small ecto-blast from the tip. The chain broke.
The vigilante screamed as he fell towards the boiling vat and Danny leapt to intercept him mid-air.
“Huu—“ The vigilante huffed at the impact, Danny’s shoes squealing as he landed and skidded to a halt.
The red guy wheezed. “Thanks.”
“Sure. Couldn’t just leave you hanging around, now could I?” Danny grinned.
Tim groaned.
Danny didn’t think the vigilante had room to complain.
Immediately, they were beset by attackers.
“Oop.” Danny dodged a bullet, shifting only the needed inch to avoid it. “Hey! Watch it! I’ve got cargo!”
“Carg—?!” The vigilante tried, only to hack again. He sounded offended. Danny didn’t really care.
A few goons were closing in on them from all sides, and Danny found it highly annoying that they were interfering with his mission to get this damsel in distress outside to fresh air. It wouldn’t take too long to knock ‘em out, but still.
One of the lackeys raised his weapon and Danny prepared to—
Flying in from the left came a foot, clocking the man in the jaw. Danny watched a small and lithe black figure move like she was the manifestation of violent, deadly grace itself. Danny was in awe as she took the man out, gliding and dancing as if it was all she breathed and all she lived. Her movements were efficient and so quick, Danny could barely catch the motions taking out the next three men after.  She tore through them like they were nothing. They fell at her feet as if they were insignificant gnats, as if one look was enough from the goddess of death over here to kill them.
She turned to Danny when she’d cleared his immediate attackers, and he stared at her, mouth slightly agape. His heart fluttered.
“That was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. . .” Danny muttered mostly to himself. He could watch her do that over and over and over again and never get tired of it. It was captivating.
The black vigilante went still for a moment, her eyes seeming to lock with his through her mask, before motioning for him to flee.
“Right.” Danny dashed past her, lugging the red one in a bridal carry. A fireman’s carry would probably be hard on his lungs.
“Wh—at w—s tha—t?!” The red one coughed up. Danny couldn’t tell if he was laughing at him or judging him. Or both.
“Shush.”
Danny blew through the nearest doors of the warehouse to meet fresh air and sucked in a deep breath. The smoke didn’t bother him, but this was still nice. He distanced himself from the warehouse quickly, worried about wasting time and risking this dude’s life. Or health. Danny had no idea how bad the smoke inhalation was. Pretty bad, he was guessing.
Danny laid him down in some alley. Mechanical whirring announced who had arrived. Danny looked up as the purple and black vigilantes dropped down from the roofs.
Danny’s eyes briefly glanced over Purple to rest on Black.
“Oh, hey. That was quick.”
The purple one shrugged. “We were almost done any—where did that come from?”
Danny uncoiled the tube to the oxygen tank and mask, fixing it over the baffled face of Red.
“Huh?” Danny fiddled with the knob on the tank and Red took deep breaths.
“You just have an oxygen tank on you at all times?” The purple one laughed.
“You don’t?” Danny countered. He tried not to smirk as Purple choked on her laugh.
“I was joking!”
Danny shrugged.
“Good job.” Black complimented and Danny’s heart palpitated. Her voice was so soft and gentle and the most melodious thing he’s ever heard.
“Yeah, thanks, I mean, no problem, just passing by, I'm in burning buildings all the time, wasn't any trouble." Danny rambled as he went back to fumbling with the knobs.
"Wait, what?" Red croaked.
Purple took in a long breath, as if hit with some amazing bit of realization.
Danny abruptly stood where he’d been sitting on the ground next to Red.
“Here. These are for you.” Danny thrust his hand out to Black, holding a bouquet of exotic, beautiful flowers, native to the Infinite Realms, and at least six times the size of his head.
Purple nearly seized back. “What the—?! Where are these things coming from?!”
Danny had received a multitude of bouquets for his coronation and he was suddenly very glad that he’d frozen them in time to decorate his keep with. Jazz had insisted it would brighten up the place.
“Ah, well, you never know when you might need a professionally done, extravagant bouquet of exotic wildflowers to present to your rescuer. You were my knight in shining. . .whatever kinda armour that is. . .”
Purple’s jaw went slack. Black seemed to pause before shrugging lightly and looking away, curling a little into herself as if embarrassed. Her body language said she was still happy, though. She carefully took the bouquet from him.
Danny was gonna die again. The butterflies were going to mutate and burst out of his stomach.
“Oh my gosh! Stop flirting over my dying body!” Red interrupted.
Danny spluttered. “I am not—“
“You totally are!!” Purple cackled as if this was the most entertainment she’s had in weeks.
Danny ignored her. “Anyway, can I have your name?” He asked Black.
“Wait. . .”Purple tried to get herself under control. “You don’t know who we are?”
Danny shrugged. “I’m, uh. . .from outta town.”
“Well, that was kinda obvious.” Red said.
“Orphan.” Black gestured to herself.
Danny paused. He blinked. Alright, that was. . .that was some oddly personal information to go straight to, but okay.
“I’m. . .sorry for your loss.”
Purple guffawed and slapped a hand over her mouth. Red hacked up another lung. He was gonna run out soon.
Black shook ever so subtly with her own laughter and Danny nearly melted.
“No. Name.” She gestured to herself. “Orphan.”
“It’s her vigilante name.” Purple was still laughing.
“Ah. . .yes. . .right.” Danny blushed. “My name’s Danny. It’s nice to meet y'all.” His words implied he spoke to all of them, but he looked only at Orphan.
“Yeah, I’m lucky you were there to grab me. I don’t know how that chain broke.” Red said from where he’d sat up from the ground. Danny’s lips pursed. He honestly kept forgetting about him.
Purple took a steadying breath, warding off the laughter still treading her words. “We should probably get him some medical attention.”
“Psh, I’m fine.”
“I thought you said you were dying?” Danny asked.
“That was like, ten seconds ago, I’m fine now.”
“Yeah, about as fine as a chain smoker with a drinking problem. Have you heard yourself? It’s like you swallowed a sword and gave it a good swishing around down there.” Purple retorted.
Red scoffed.
Danny backed out of the alley, flashing Orphan a smile before disappearing.
<><><><>
“What happened to all your food?!”
Danny came home to Jason(AKA Red Hood. {The wacky ectoplasm kinda made it obvious. Danny was working on that}) peering into his fridge judgementally as if it was an a affront to his person. “I loaded it up just a couple days ago!”
Danny reached past his friend to grab the orange juice and poured himself a glass. He went to sit at the counter. “I ate it all. Duh.”
“There was a week’s worth in there!” Jason gestured indignantly at the empty fridge, staring at Danny.
Danny took a long sip of his juice, keeping eye contact with Jason all the while. When his thirst was parched, he set the cup down with a quiet clink. He leaned his elbows on the counter to hold his face. 
“Obviously not, because I ate it all.”
Jason pinched his nose and sighed before letting the fridge door drift closed. He poured the kettle he must’ve boiled earlier into a prepared mug.
Danny stared down at his half-emptied glass. “I think I’m in love.” He murmured thoughtfully into it.
The tea bag bobbing in Jason’s mug paused, before continuing. “Oh?”
“Yeah.” Danny sighed, mournfully. He wondered if Orphan would care if he was half-dead or from another dimension. Would he meet her again? He really, really hoped so. “I met her in a burning building.”
“. . .What?”
“Yeah, what an amazing coincidence, right?”
“That’s not—“
“She was so cool.”
“. . .kaaay?”
How did Danny get her attention? He couldn’t just show up wherever she was vigilante-ing, could he? He didn’t want her to feel like he was stalking her.
Danny shuddered and made a face. Ugh. Ew.
No. He needed to find another way.
A small smile wound it’s way over his lips as an idea came to him.
“What’s her name?” Jason asked.
“Umm, you’ve probably heard of her. She said her name was Orphan.”
Jason choked on his tea.
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Vat Paste manufacturer and supplier in Brazil | RK Dyechem Pvt Ltd
RKindustry is the best vat paste supplier in Brazil. We are one of the top vat paste manufacture or supplier industry in Brazil. this paste is use for printing. Call now
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clipartdinosaur · 4 months
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Griddlehark Fics
I have read an absolutely insane amount of Griddlehark fanfics in the past few months so I figured I could make a like...list of all of my favorites that I bookmarked. I'm not sure if anyone will use this but if anything it will be for my own self-indulgence LOL. Just a heads up, this list WILL contain spoilers up to Nona the Ninth, so proceed with your own discretion. Anyway here we go!
(♥︎ = favorite!)
Short (<15k):
"By the Sword" by JeanLuciferGohard (2.6k)
The Reverend Daughter of the Ninth, Necrosaint, Ascended, the greatest bone adept in an Age, does one push-up, and collapses. Harrow does not beg for her cavalier. Harrow rakes her hair back and snarls, “Nav, I am going to unzip your cranial sutures. One by one. And zip them up again sideways.”
"Your Necro Questions Answered" by Magichorse (8.8k)
Syndicated columnist "Nav the Cav" offers a sympathetic ear to cavaliers across the galaxy and dispenses practical, no-nonsense, real talk advice on how to properly manage and care for your necromancer.
"A Lesson in Bones" by Magichorse (3.8k)
One of the laboratory trials at Canaan House compels Harrowhark to swap bodies with her cavalier. What will Gideon do with the power of the most talented bone adept in generations at her disposal? Nothing good, probably.
"Visions of Gideon" by tothewillofthepeople (13k)
Oh my god they were roommates...
"true love's kiss, or something equally nauseating" by corpsesoldier (4.6k)
She was where she needed to be. She was going to pull her necro out of this godforsaken tomb, end the game of musical bodies they were playing, and then everything would be all right. Harrow would be alive. And Gideon was going to give her shit for approximately the next myriad for not just taking what she’d offered and saving them a whole lot of trouble.
"The Big Warm Dark" by decalexas (haelstorm) (2.7k)
Gideon Nav knows how to swing a longsword, brandish a rapier, bridge the gap between life and death, punch the dead in the face, and maybe overthrow an Empire along the way. What she doesn't know how to do is reach for the girl who made all of this possible.
"carrion comfort, despair (not feast on thee)" by NotAFicWriter (5k)
Some time after Alecto wakes, Harrow and Gideon finally have a moment to speak to one another. Hearts are bared. Teeth are bared. Intentions are bared. It all comes at great personal cost (emotional honesty).
"never exhale all the way" by pigflight (1.2k)
Harrowhark paints Gideon's face.
"such an almighty sound" by CountingNothings (10k)♥︎
“I need you to marry me,” Harrow says, a propos of absolutely nothing that Gideon can see. And, uh, okay, this is not what childhood best frenemies say to each other upon discovering that both of their graduate programs have weird residence requirements. “What,” Gideon asks, “the fuck?”
"A Handsomely Dangerous Thing" by zoicite (1.5k)
Had Harrow ever looked at Gideon and felt pride before? Surely not. It sat like a tumor in her chest, a cancerous lump that had grown where it did not belong.
"How it didn't happen" by Nary (1.5k)
"How did you lose it?" Coronabeth asked, more softly than her sister's shrill voice. The group assembled at Canaan House barely knew her, and yet here they were, asking the most irritatingly personal questions, and acting as if they were being kind and thoughtful by prying into her secrets. "I dropped my pen into a vat of acid and reached in to grab it without thinking," Harrow said dryly. Coronabeth recoiled, screwing up her pretty nose. Ianthe looked unsure whether to believe her or not. Their meatslab of cavalier just stared blankly. "The Daughter of the Ninth House was blessed in this manner from her birth, as a symbol of her strength and power over the mysteries of necromancy," Ortus interjected. Harrow glared at him. "Oh," Coronabeth said, an expression of disgusting sympathy on her flawless face. "But then you would never have known who your soulmate was!" Harrow's glare intensified. "My soulmate is bones."
"Halcyon Nights" by Morike91 (10k)
It was hard to tell what was worse: feeling the full warmth of those unguarded honey eyes fall on Harrow, or watching them narrow in recognition and contempt, their warmth now hotter with something else.  “What can I get you?” It has been at least four years since Harrow last heard the voice of Gideon Nav, but it was still as familiar as her right hand. 
"I completely fucking hate you" by ClaraZorEl (7.5k)
In the coming weeks, Harrowhark learns an unfortunate great deal about Gideon Nav. The kind of porn she likes, the number of bread rolls she can fit into her mouth at once, that she always leans too heavily on her left leg when she fights but can do fifty-seven push-ups in a row without stopping, that her biceps rates 11/10 on the scale of good biceps, that her laugh rumbles like an army of skeletons, and most importantly, that she can’t fucking stand her. Gideon Nav is so grating that Harrow has no doubt she will be her undoing. OR Harrowhark Nonagesimus has been invited to Canaan University's ball. But to successfully represent her house, she needs a cavalier, and unfortunately, her only option is her least favourite barista from her least favourite coffee shop.
"A Thousand Teeth, Yours Among Them" by pipistrelle (7k)
"In the end, she poisoned Ortus; so it was Harrow Nova who walked out to the shuttle a half-step behind the Daughter of the Ninth, the chain of Samael Novenary wound about her offhand wrist, the black blade of the Ninth at her side."
"The Only Prayer We Know" by pipistrelle (12k) [Part 2 of "A Thousand Teeth, Yours Among Them"]
It's like a bad joke: two cavaliers (alive) and two necromancers (one dead) walk into a rebel faction of humanity, looking for a new life -- in every sense of the phrase. What they find is each other, and (in some cases) themselves.
"The Flames of Hell Are Warm" by silverapples (7k)
In which Harrow is a repressed evangelical Christian and Gideon performs burlesque in a lesbian nightclub. Feat. nipple pasties, chewing gum, and a steaming mug of gay coffee (wake up and smell it, Harrow).
"Necro Business" by rnanqo (1.6k) ♥︎
“Gideon,” you said carefully, “I will need to examine your mouth. Various structures, primarily the jaw, but also the lingual muscles—the tongue—” You stopped there. Your cheeks were going red, probably with indignity. “Yeah,” I said, a bit too loudly, “yeah, sure. Do it.”
"Holy Cross, Alaska" by softieghost (10k) ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎
Harrow meets Gideon. They go through it together.
"my love will be your armor" by TheKnightsWhoSayBook (2.3k)
"The princess has a right to bestow her favor on whoever she wishes to win a match," Gideon tells her. "Are you going to?" "Why would I? I don't want to marry him," Harrow answers bitterly. "Do you want me to win?" Princess Harrow will be engaged to the winner of the tournament, and her only champion is her useless bodyguard Sir Gideon Nav, who isn't going to save her. Unless...?
"The Meaning Of The Word" by pipistrelle (8.4k)
Harrow, along with a good percentage of Canaan University's necromancy students, has the flu. Gideon has a lot of feelings that she is in no way equipped to handle. It's a tough week.
"(i shine only with the light you gave me)" by sashawire (1.7k) ♥︎
God prods, gently, “Even just starting with their physical description, and we can go from there.” “Imagine,” you say, from somewhere outside your body, “the worst shade of orange you’ve ever seen in your life.” * Harrowhark receives her saintly title.
"i will learn to love the shears" by corpsesoldier (4.7k)
The avulsion trial left Harrow's hair in a sorry state and Gideon offers up her expertise with a blade. Or, Gideon gives Harrow a haircut.
"The Titty Texts: A Work of a Stupendous Titty Nature" by EleniaTrexer (3k)
Gideon accidentally sends Harrow boobs. And then just keeps on sending them.
"can we start over?" by breeeliss (10k)
Gideon needs a tutor. Harrow needs someone to get her out of college gym class. All in all, a pretty straightforward arrangement to make with your ex.
"Dark Mode Enabled" by senseoftheday (12k)
Tech Company AU in which a certain Sales bro with no filter decides to ruin Harrow's life (and feature roadmap) by initiating the cross-functional project from hell. At least, Gideon has the decency to work remotely, and Harrow's new office crush makes some pretty great coffee.
"deconsecrated graves" by emotionsandphenomena (4k)
Gideon and Harrow got out of the cult they were raised in. Okay, what's next?
"settle up in heaven" by liesmyth (3k) ♥︎
“Isn’t this arrogance, Harrow?” Kiriona says. “Think you could fix what God couldn’t?”
"Quoth the Maiden" by Sarsaparilla (10.9k)
The bold outlaws Nova Hawk and Gideon meet for the first time on a narrow log-bridge. But is it really their first meeting? Or: what if Robin Hood and Little John were both lesbians?
"twice in a blue moon" by sinshine (8.7k) ♥︎
Gideon snapped out of her depressing reverie and blinked at her. "That's a really good idea." "Obviously," said Harrow, and it was only a little bit condescending. "Step one, sneak out of the party. Step two, acquire the necessary items at a store. Step three–" Harrow gestured vaguely at the deer in Gideon's hands– "And step four, profit." [G&H rush to fix a smashed snow globe that Dulcinea made so that Cam doesn't kill them before the clock strikes midnight at their NYE party. The fact that Gideon is back in her hometown after a long time away and she and Harrow have unresolved romantic tension is secondary and definitely won't be a problem.]
"It Came From Planet Slut" by LockedTombMemes (8k)
Well. Evidently going undercover to an Idan society fling in order to deliver a message to a high-profile BoE agent was a tits-out kind of look.
"Apostate's Yuletide" by sinshine (12.6k)♥︎
Gideon raised one eyebrow comically high. She smiled easily, erasing any hint of the anxiety that Harrow might have sensed. "What's with all the questions today?" Harrow huffed indignantly and fidgeted with the blanket draped across her lap, worrying the frayed hem with her fingers. "I thought your ego would appreciate the interest." "Yeah, but it's weird coming from you. I'm used to you monologuing, not playing twenty questions." "Perhaps it's a Christmas miracle," suggested Harrow, with an expression so absolutely devoid of joy that Gideon couldn't help but laugh. [Harrow and Gideon burn down a church on Xmas.]
"when it's over" by Adertily (2.5k)
Harrowhark had sworn to herself to live to see the girl in the locked tomb awaken. Alecto has risen. Now God is dead, along with everyone who had ever been dear to her - and Gideon has returned as a distorted creature. The war is over. Harrow wishes she could be too. Or: A character study based on Harrow's suicidal ideation and Gideon's determination to never run anywhere unless she absolutely has to.
"Supernova Bloom!" by sinshine (13k)
"It's just for a week, and then you never have to see me again," said Gideon. "I don't have time to find anyone else." And, "Please." Slowly, Harrow took her hand off the door and cautiously turned around. Gideon watched a dozen unspoken questions flicker across her face. She voiced none of them, but eventually settled on an expression of grim resignation. "I suppose I could suffer you for a week." [Gideon needs help getting her new flower shop ready for the grand opening. Harrow needs cash.]
"I still need your teeth around my organs" by sinshine (7.8k)
Although she was a beloved Daughter and a talented necromancer, Gideon's greatest vice was that she dearly loved to fuck around and find out. Knowing this, perhaps it shouldn't have been as shocking when she lifted one of Nova's hands, flipped it over, and kissed her palm. [4 times Gideon kisses Harrow, 1 time Harrow kisses Gideon]
"cuckoo, cuckoo" by sashawire (1.2k)
What Wake gives it is not a name. To do so would be a moronic, unnecessary cruelty. But she does deign to give it the microscopic dignity of a title, a goal, a purpose. Bomb. Eighteen years later, in the rubble of a once-sacred home, Harrowhark Nonagesimus reaches up and touches Gideon Nav’s grit-covered, blood-rimed face, splits a laugh like the world is ending, and calls her “flower.” * Six times God's unwanted daughter was nicknamed, and once she wasn't.
"my teeth will only cut your lips, my dear" by sashawire (<1k) ♥︎
Gideon chomps into her tongue as hard as she can convince herself, stifling a very dignified squawk. Her eyes water, Emperor’s left tit that fucking hurts, but—it works. Blood weeps from the bite marks, creeping down the back of her throat, up into her nasal cavity, staining her teeth. Okay. She has blood in her mouth. Blood that, somehow, needs to get into Harrow’s mouth. * Step #6: Consume the flesh.
"fifteen percent concentrated power of will" by surreptitiously (9k)
Teaching someone to do a push-up is a love language, when that person is very annoying.
"GHAZAL WHERE I'M BEGGING YOU TO TOUCH ME" by igneousbitch (12k)
You had your body and I had mine, and it was a miracle. Your hands against my face were a miracle. The rest of your meat attached to your hands was a prayer answered and a promise broken, but we were flush and gasping and alive, and Harrow—I really thought you might’ve kissed me then. But I felt it happen. The way your breath suddenly stilled, and your body locked up beneath mine, remembering. How with splintering gentleness, you pushed me away. “I’m so sorry,” was the second thing you said upon waking. The first thing had been my name. Stranded in a safehouse on an Edenite moon, Gideon and Harrow try to put themselves back together.
"catch you on the flip side, sugar lips" by corpsesoldier (4.9k)
Maybe if Harrow's brain runs enough scenarios, she'll find a way to keep what she's lost.
"hand to heart, I swear" by corpsesoldier (5k)
Gideon has a broken heart, and there's only one necromancer who can fix it.
Medium (15-30k)
"If you're doing it right you'll break their ribs" by almostnectarine (22.4k)
"How do you know Nonagesimus has gone somewhere dangerous?" asked Isaac. "Have you wired some kind of alert system?" "It's, uh. It's on the schedule," said Gideon. "I just... forgot. Because of the bread." Nobody was convinced by this, least of all Gideon. "It's a Ninth House thing," Gideon went on, backing away with increasing desperation. This was a slightly more plausible explanation, if only because nobody wanted to look too closely at what fell under the awful skeletal-ribbed and rotting umbrella of Ninth House things. "Gotta go—!" And she was out the door, gone. But it wasn't a Ninth House thing, except inasmuch as it was happening to the only two representatives of the noble and decrepit Ninth House on this quite literally godforsaken rock. Gideon knew Harrow had gone somewhere dangerous—knew that Harrow was back in the lab where they had only just completed a horrible trial—because she could see it, clear as day: an awful overlay on her vision of that terrible dangerous room and a pair of terrible dangerous hands drawing some kind of ward next to the plinth. The hands were definitely Harrow's. This was definitely a problem.
"If Home Is Where the Heart Is (Then We're All Just Fucked)" by JeanLuciferGohard (17k) ♥︎
When Gideon Nav gets a call that her ex-girlfriend, who never bothered to change her designated emergency contact, is in the hospital, she goes against her better judgement and responds. Everything after that just gets more complicated.
"blue gray green lavender" by smolranger (29k) ♥︎
Laser Radial sailor Gideon Nav just wants pass her classes, win a few regattas, and keep her head down. FJ sailor Harrowhark Nonagesimus has grand plans to qualify for the Olympics, preserve her parent's legacy, and save her home town. Despite the ties binding them together, the two have kept their college lives carefully separate for two years. But when Harrow's helm, Ortus, suffers a concussion mid-way through the fall season, their carefully separated lives collide. Harrow needs someone capable of taking Ortus' place for the remainder of the season or her Olympic dreams — and Canaan College's entire sail team — are in peril. And Gideon is her only option.
"Daughters of Hungry Ghosts" by zoicite (24k)
Harrow and Gideon and times they have (and also have not) shared a bed over the years.
"Disney World, Florida" by softieghost (24.6k) [Part 2 of "Holy Cross, Alaska"]
After the events of Alaska, Harrow thanks Gideon the only way she knows how: devotion. -- Chapter 3: The journey concludes. More confessions.
"we've got a good thing goin' " by sinshine (14.6k) ♥︎
“Not to sound ungrateful, but being here makes me wish that you had left me for dead,” said Harrow. Gideon had been staring hard at the face of the fountain’s statue. She was pretty sure that it was carved in the likeness of Naberius himself, but she didn’t want to say it out loud and make it true. She shook her head and turned to Harrow. “Leaving me to live out eternity in your bony sock puppet of a body? Hard pass.” Palamedes and Camilla shared a look. It was the mutual understanding of two people who had been trapped in close quarters with the bickering of Gideon Nav and Harrowhark Nonagesimus for far too long. [Team 69 hide out in Babs's vacation home. Because it's not like he's using it anyway.]
"Cake by the Ocean" by zoicite (15k)♥︎
Okay, so the thing was, Gideon had always been shit at plans. She knew that. Everyone knew that, but this--she really didn’t think it would be this hard! Gideon’s voice was like the least memorable thing about her. Bargaining her voice for a well-shaped set of human legs--that really should have worked in her favor.
"careful fear and (un)dead devotion" by sinshine (23k)
[Gideon and Harrow wake up back in their own bodies but both of them are missing large parts of their memory. Camilla tries not to kill everyone.]
"who ya gonna call?" by igneousbitch (24k)
“Fret not, honeybun.” Gideon shook her red hair out of her eyes, belligerent. “I’m not totally sold on your whole skepticism thing.” “Well,” Harrow said, ignoring the nickname. She turned to the rest of the room, clearing her throat politely before addressing the empty air. “Ghosts, if you’re real, give us a sign. Make a noise. Move something. Send a shiver down our backs. Whisper softly into Nav’s left ear—” “I seriously fucking hate you.” - (Casual sex and paranormal investigation. Not necessarily in that order.) (or: the Buzzfeed Unsolved AU in which Gideon is ready to fight a ghost, and Harrow just wants to be haunted.)
Long(>30k):
"Beneath a Blue and Foreign Sky" by zoicite (35k)
Harrow has a decision to make.
"A Heart Full Of Sutures" by Rohad (40k)
All Gideon wanted was to get outside and ride her motorcycle. No part of that plan had included eight weeks in Canaan Medical Center with a broken Pelvis and the meanest little doctor this side of the eastern seabord.
"Midnight at the Mithraeum" by zoicite (66k) ♥︎
It'd been two years since Gideon Nav gathered her wine key and her gaming license and escaped The Locked Tomb, a speakeasy-style cocktail bar managed by the hateful Harrowhark Nonagesimus. Now, dealing tables at The Mithraeum Hotel & Casino, things were really looking up. So when Gideon scored a date with the most beautiful showgirl in the Gilded Halls of Ida, the last thing she expected was to wake up married to her old nemesis and former coworker. The story starts the night of Gideon's date and alternates between the events leading up to the wedding and the weeks that follow as Gideon tries to navigate life married to someone who claims to want nothing more than to forget she exists.
"Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea" by pipistrelle (90k)
Being the journal of Reverend Daughter Harrowhark Nonagesimus, chronicling the journey of the Emperor's warship Cenotaph on its hunt to slay an immortal Resurrection Beast. Or: the Moby Dick crossover AU that nobody asked for.
"The Darkest Night, The Brightest Light" by eternaleponine (50k)
Harrowhark has known for a long time that her home's financial situation is dire, and not getting better. She has plans to fix it all, but can't implement them until she turns eighteen in a few months. When her parents announce that the best (perhaps only) way to save Drearburh is to marry off its heir, Harrow realizes the timeline has changed and she needs to take action now to save her home... and herself. Desperate times call for desperate measures, after all. Enter Gideon Nav. Detested foe, and Harrow's only hope.
"putting your fist through a thick sheet of glass (i know you don't want to)" by oretsev (46k)
Harrowhark Nonagesimus and Gideon Nav have always been at each other’s throats, and the animosity has only intensified since the death of Harrow’s parents. But when a car accident leaves Gideon without any memories of her past, Harrow sees a chance at the clean slate she’s wanted for years. Becoming involved in Gideon’s recovery assuages some of the guilt, but as she and Gideon become closer and increasingly involved in each other's lives, Harrow worries that some of her secrets may be more than she can atone for.
Ongoing:
"semi-charmed kinda life" by strangedelight (182k+) ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎
Gideon asked questions. Harrow surprised her with answers. They reached an agreement; they decided to be smart, to be patient. Gideon made a promise, Harrow gave her one in return. Wait and see. OR the year is 1994, and Gideon and Harrow leave their small town for life in the city. OR team 69 roommates au only this time it's the 90s
"Intern the Sixth" by apocalypticTaco (33k+)
ADDRESSING THE HEIR TO THE NINTH HOUSE, OR PRESUMED EQUIVALENT: PALAMEDES SEXTUS, HEIR TO THE SIXTH HOUSE, PRESENTS HIS COMPLIMENTS TO THE NINTH AND REQUESTS A FORMAL ARRANGEMENT WHEREIN HIS MASTER WARDEN AND CAVALIER APPRENTICESHIP UNDER THE NINTH FOR FOUR YEARS IN EXCHANGE FOR THE SIXTH’S SERVICES. *Details to be discussed. Please turn to back page. Timeframe variable. Services and agreements variable upon the Ninth's request. An internship of this caliber is highly unprecedented and likely unheard of, but any information valuable to the Ninth and into the Tomb will remain undisclosed upon request; Primary experience and study is required as the Master Warden has already decided upon such being his final thesis prior to his end studies. No takebacks, no denials. Pleased to meet you. Palamedes Sextus, Heir to the Sixth and Master Warden and Camilla the Sixth, Cavalier Primary and Warden's Hand of the Library
TO THE MASTER WARDEN: FORMALLY REJECTED.
"What's Eating Gideon Nav?" by labyrinthineRetribution (40k+)
After a miserable fifteen years at Blessed Saint Anastasia's School for Girls, Gideon's luck finally changes.
"We Have Always Lived in the Apartment" by labyrinthineRetribution (171k+)
John looks up from his Jack and Coke in drunken curiosity. "What's with the face, Harrowhark?" he asks, genuinely concerned. "Contrary to popular belief," Gideon butts in, "her face just fuckin' looks like that, bitch." She tends to use "bitch" as liberally as commas when off her ass. "You're piss drunk," you shoot back. "And you, my good bitch, are just as contemptible as the day you clawed your way up from Hell." - It is Harrowhark Nonagesimus' birthday, and it only gets worse from there.
PWP (basically):
"I'll hold in these hands all that remains" by corvidlesbian (6.5k) ♥︎
“Do you want me to try?” Gideon said. “What?” “You got all hot and bothered without me trying. Do you want me to try?” Their newfound habit of cuddling gets interesting.
"sting of a wasp" by brightbolt, imperfectlyctor (42k) ♥︎
"You’re a virgin,” Gideon said, testing it out. "Huh." Harrow didn’t like the sound of that huh. She knew Gideon’s noises, and that was a thoughtful, sinister huh. That was the same huh she’d made before putting canned tuna in Crux’s work boots. Her eyes narrowed. “What.” Gideon cocked her head to the side. “Is there a reason you’re waiting?” There was no judgement in the question— only genuine curiosity. Perhaps it was this that made Harrow more inclined to answer. “I don’t have the time to look for someone new,” She shrugged. “And my available pool is… somewhat limited.” “Well,” Gideon said, with just a hint of conspiracy in those glittering golden eyes. “If you ever want to change that, you have my number.” What? What? Harrow blinked. “What?” Or: the five times Gideon and Harrow successfully bone, and the one time they don't.
"Suckle, Honey" by zoicite (7.9k)
“You crave my juice,” Gideon accused. “I do not crave your juice.” “Fuck, you do though. You went off to explore that study alone, without your cavalier, using a key that I nearly gave my life for, and then you snorted some powder that made you crave my juice! Harrow. I never would have let you sniff powder from a ten thousand year old jar.” This was untrue--Gideon probably wouldn’t have noticed Harrow breathing in a puff of jar powder until it was too late--but it sounded like something Camilla Hect might say, so Gideon went with it anyway. Camilla definitely would have stopped Palamedes from accidentally sniffing old as fuck Eighth House jarred juice addiction powder.
"Five Times We Hatefucked and One Time We Didn't" by rnanqo (8k)
“Fuck you,” you said. “Fuck me yourself, you coward.” You ran a hand through my hair, fisted it, and pulled my head up. From here I had a spectacular view of your weird blown-out seething expression, like I was the worst thing you’d ever seen. Also a view up your blood-crusted nostrils. Choice. “Maybe I will, Griddle,” you said. “Maybe I will stop fucking you over and start fucking you." Gideon and Harrow realize, abruptly, that their hatefucking is no longer hatefucking.
"a call to motion" by groundedsaucer (coasterchild) (10k) ♥︎
Harrow and Gideon watch a porno.
"put her canine teeth in the side of my neck" by stranded_star (8.8k)
Harrowhark Nonagesimus is getting a PhD and a divorce. Against her better judgment, she goes out to the bar to celebrate and meets an incorrigible, absolutely ripped salt-and-paprika butch who takes her home and gives it to her good. To her horror, it's the best night of her life, and she sneaks home with her tail between her legs. Harrow has more important things to worry about - like raising her daughter and building the next stages of her career. But when her daughter's favorite teacher, someone named Griddle, turns about to be the Gideon she met at the bar, she's forced to contend with allowing herself (and her daughter) to find the happy ending she never thought they'd have. Featuring MILF!Harrow, Teacher!Gideon, and a very amused Camilla Hect.
"The Wound That Swallows" by seelieunseelie (7.8k)
Harrow can make out an uncomfortable amount of detail about Gideon’s body beneath. Powerful, strong as ever, yet somehow vulnerable for its supplication below Harrow’s. “Are we gonna get this over with?” Gideon says in a voice softly scratchy. She blushes then when Harrow sits on the edge of the bed. “It will hurt,” Harrow says. “Yeah,” Gideon says. “I think I can handle it.”
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fuckyeahgoodomens · 2 months
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The PledgeManager has launched!
Thank you for bearing with us. We’re happy to say that, as promised, the PledgeManager has officially launched!
In case you missed it, we detailed earlier this week that the publication of the graphic novel has been pushed back from its original July 2024 estimate into Spring 2025 - you can read the full update here. We also want to take a moment to say that we have seen the outpouring of love and support on Kickstarter, and across various platforms, wishing Colleen well in her recovery and the time needed for the graphic novel - a huge thank you from all of the team for your understanding and patience, and for the genuine community and care we’ve seen these past few days. We appreciate you all.
PledgeManager
With this in mind, we think it’s important to underline: though PledgeManager has launched, you do not need to pay for your shipping fees immediately.
The PledgeManager is there for those who missed the campaign to order the graphic novel, and indeed for any backers who would like to upgrade, get some other add-ons, or the new items. You, as a pre-existing backer, should receive an email with information via Kickstarter and/or PledgeManager to inform you that this is now open to you - note, these are sent in waves of smaller batches, so if you don't get yours immediately, don't panic! It will likely take between 12-18 hours to process all the backers.
You are, of course, welcome to pay your shipping right away if you'd like, however we completely understand that you may want to wait until closer to the fulfilment time, or when more solid dates are confirmed, before actioning this.
For this stage, we have compiled a quick FAQ below covering some key questions:
Will the whole project be moving from Kickstarter to PledgeManager? No. This is just for the fulfilment side and logistics - all updates will still remain here.  
Do PledgeManager backers get everything that Kickstarter backers do? No. While the remaining tiers will be made available for those who missed it, with certain stretch goals (e.g. additions to the book, loot boxes, etc), Kickstarter backers have a number of exclusives such as the Good Omens HQ discount code for when the store launches, and the backers only events.  
My PledgeManager address will be different to what is listed on my Kickstarter. Is that fine? Yes. We are handling all logistics through PledgeManager and, as such, that is the only place where we will need your address. If you move or need to change any details, that will be the place to do so.  
Can I change my address? Yes. You can update your address until we are at the shipping stage. We will keep this option open for as long as possible to ensure maximum flexibility around this.  
How are shipping fees calculated? It is based on both weight and the country it is being sent to. We have been working over the past months to streamline processes and bring the costs down from their original starting point.  
Do I have to pay just now? You do not need to pay immediately, but payment will need to be made prior to your items being shipped. You now have a bigger window during which you can make payment. As above, we will keep updating you on the progression of the publication schedule, should you be waiting for firmer dates before doing so.  
What about taxes and import duty? UK: VAT is included in the costs UK backers pay, there should be no extra tax charges. US: We believe (but cannot guarantee) that imports under $800USD in value should not attract import duty, those pledges above may be taxed at import. EU & REST OF THE WORLD: If taxes or duties apply to your pledge, these will need to be paid at time of import into your country. We’ve spent months trying to integrate the costs at this stage, but in having the project open across the globe, it has proven too complex to be able to fully refine and cover all instances and locations, and we’ve been advised that this is the best route forward.  We know a lot of international backers, particularly in the EU – for example – will already be used to this process, and we will keep you all updated on any developments on this front. For all of our backers, we are working hard to make labelling and declaring all of the contents of your pledges as transparent as possible, in order to make taxing and importing as easy and affordable as possible.  
I want to buy the new items, but am waiting to pay shipping. Are they limited? The pins, mugs, notebooks - all the new items specifically added to the PledgeManager are not limited and will be available regardless of whether you get them now, or months down the road. The only limited items are the remaining tiers that have moved over from the Kickstarter (e.g. the Obsidian Tier) that were limited to begin with, and a very limited run of the Alien Parking ticket. Everything else is fully available, in perpetuity.  
Will you be adding extra items to the PledgeManager? No. What is there at launch is all we plan to include at this point - any new items afterwards will instead originate via the Good Omens HQ store.  
Will Kickstarter backers get items first? Yes. We will have a staggered approach for fulfilment: Kickstarter backers, then PledgeManager, then everything that is moving to the Good Omens HQ store will subsequently be made available.
You can also view the more general PledgeManager FAQ at terrypratchett.com.
We will keep PledgeManager and logistical notes present in all the monthly updates going forward, but felt this warranted a dedicated one-off. 
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These are available as part of the PledgeManager. Another beauty from our pin designer, Carl Sutton.
Thanks again for your patience. Back in the April monthly update.
In short: :)
The Good Omens Pledge Manager has launched:
those who missed the Graphic Novel Kickstarter: Now you can order the Graphic novel, not all things that were in the original Kicstarter are available but there is stil a lot of options and fuckton of lovely ineffable add-ons! :)<3
those who participated inthe original GO GN Kickstarter: you should an email (Dunmanifestin needs more information to fulfill your reward) with a link that logs you (if not log manually) into the pledgemanager and lets you edit the order (add new add ons) (yep, my wallet weeps :D<3)
The addons:
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I mean... how can one resist for example these I do not know... :D
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dogbites-puppylove · 2 months
Text
Apple seed cyanide
TW: description of yandere mentalities and actions (obsession, possessive tendencies, stalking, etc)
Tags: Yandere! Joker x reader, Yandere! Harley x reader (platonic)
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If you want the honest to god truth, Harley knew that the Joker was spewing saccharine filth from the start when he reached out with promises of a sweet little life, one with a darling family of their own. She knew because, after years of watching him pant after the trials of Batman, she saw he had no room other than his obsession left in his heart. But like a moth to firelight, she flutters dutifully back into his arms attracted by promises already broken
Imagine her surprise when shes greeted at the door with a bright smile, almost sane enough to trick her. He ushers her in with a sweet note in the air and a “surprise waiting for her” in the living room. Bound and gagged a couple is crying out on the floor, shaking their hands in a pathetic plea, and attempting to crawl away, and usually, Harley would be all for making a joke or two, but instead, all she can see is you. Your little presence floods all of her senses, sitting perfectly pacified on the floor. Behind her, she's aware of her partner's sick laughter, but she can't shake off the trance she's in.
You couldn't be older than 3, still without proper motor skills and a morbid curiosity stopping any critical preservation instincts that might have had you crying. This becomes more evident when instead of screaming, you giggle as the clown prince of crime crouches down to haul you up into an embrace, even bouncing you up into the air a few times to pry out more laughter. She can barely hear the shrieks of your old parents as the Joker finally deposits you safely into her arms, and as she cradles you close to her chest that aches for you. It's a physical hurt that almost overwhelmed her, the need to crawl inside you and live there, or for you to do the same, and it is in a stranger's house that Harley falls in love again.
“Sweet as honey ain't they?” the Joker coos and cackles at you, waggling a few fingers in front of your face, grinning even wider as you grab at them. “Full of curiosity that one is, a real riot!” but Harley can barely hear him much less acknowledge him past the roaring of blood in her ears. Her heart beating out of her chest she thinks it might just spill open to accommodate the organ trying to crawl closer to her darling. For the second and last time in her life, Harley is chained and leashed to another's will, a fate of coming to their beck and call, your will, her darling wrapped perfectly in her arms.
To the Joker's credit he does love you, or as close to love as he can get. He hushes your cries, indulges you in sweets behind Harley's back, and she's even caught him humming silly little tunes as he dances with you wrapped up in his arms. You bring clarity to him, a surety in his life that he doesn't feel unless pulling Bats along in another joke. You were going to be his perfect legacy, proof that he cannot truly die, you're a part of him in this way. Of course, you’d need a quick little dip into a vat of toxins to truly make a perfect legacy but you needn’t worry, he still loves you. You just need a little preparation first.
Every week he takes you on little daddy-darling outings, he tells Harley your going around to sightsee, and he lets you play a lot of fun games until the sun sets. And he's truthful because his warehouses are far and in between, and every mutilation he leads you so lovingly through is a fun little joke. His little comedian, hell coo as he leads your hand tightly clasping a knife against the throat of one of his own boys who had tried to run. Isn't this fun sweetheart?
He underestimates, however, just how devoted Harley is because while she was fully delusional when they had first gotten into a relationship Harley cannot spare you as collateral damage to her own fantasies. She is painfully grounded as she takes in everything about you 24/7, your expressions, words, actions anything she can she takes to covet away in her mind forever. As much as she is a monster she is your mother and she loves you, you are anything she's ever had and everything she'll ever have. He doesn't realize that she obsessively checks over you, even spotting the smallest flecks of blood, how when she kisses you goodnight she can see the thin sheen of apathy take hold of your gaze.
The final straw comes in the form of a huge argument, she comes home early from work eager to see her little baby, when she finds the Joker cooing into your ear, goading you into doing your best as your hands wrap around a familiar gun. Like the devil on her shoulder, she can't even scream as you pull the trigger, eyes momentarily twitching but no other expression as your former parent's brains paint the windows. And she realizes as you turn around to smile at her sweetly with blood on your teeth and tears that seem so foreign streaming down your face that you need to leave, she has to get you away.
That night she takes you, just 9 years old, and runs. She has no real destination, just a desperate notion to get away, to save you from all that she knows the joker is trying to make you. She can't, she can't let you go through what she knows will force you into the type of person you never wanted to become. Because she can see herself in the mirror and can mourn normal happiness and stability, and she has watched the joker bleed himself dry until he has nothing to himself but an old laugh track repeating over and over again. It's a life of agony and you don't deserve that, not you, never you.
Of course, her body ends up leading her to Ivy’s place, and the woman can only stare in shock as her best friend who had gone radio silent all those years back collapses at her door holding a kid so close she might be trying to meld into one. “Please, please not my baby” Harley begs and any anger that Ivy could have had melts.
For a while it's paradise, the Gotham sirens all corralling once again in their glory, and with their very own new member, you. Selina takes to you quickly, cooing about how her kitten is just the most clever thing in the world as you quickly work through her little trips. (Privately she will worry to Harley about the lack of awareness you have for your own health, the way your eyes glaze over when a plan takes place, and the brutality you exhibit.) Ivy also takes to you quickly, teasing you with little nicknames (how can you be a sapling when you're a human?) and she teaches you how to nurture, how to care for plants and love them as they deserve. (And she will confide to Harley how you seem to take to poisons particularly well, how you are able to craft things more disastrous than she can dream, how your curiosity always leans to the morbid.)
Harley herself takes great energy and care into trying to undo what the Joker has done, it's laughable how Gotham's greatest villains all sit in a circle every week and preach about morals and empathy. But to their credit, it works, and though you may not be able to feel the full existence of motion, though you can't seem to feel it as deeply as others your heart still throbs with what must make you human. You learn consequences and cling with desperation to these little lessons that prove you aren't your mentor. (not father, not anymore)
And yet Harley can still see how your apathy takes hold in the face of curiosity, how you prefer crowbars over teddy bears, and how despite your hardest efforts empathy is always a little too easy to push away in favor of hard-earned apathy. (and she knows, she knows that as long as that bastard is still out there doggedly searching the ground for you, you won't ever truly be safe) so she makes a deal.
The phone rings and Bruce can only raise an eyebrow at the untitled phone number, he doesn't make a habit of giving out his number so uselessly so after the third ring he picks up.
“Hello? This is Bruce Way-”
“Hey Bats.” Alarm shoots through the roof at a voice he hasn't heard in years, and yet still so closely relates to his arch-nemesis.
“Harley? How did you get this-”
“Listen, listen I know it's gonna sound real bad but I- I need you to hear me out. A favor, I need a favor. I'll go back to Arkham, stay there for the rest of my days but, I” she breathes and it's far too shaky for the woman he knows her to be. “My baby” she sobs “You gotta keep my baby safe, he's out there Bats and he won't leave em alone as long as their alive.”
Through his confusion, Bruce manages to calm her down, and wrangles a short story out of her, how she and Joker had played family until she couldn't bear to see you break anymore and how she knew that she alone couldn't keep her darling safe. And maybe it's the boy staring at the corpse of his family in Crime Alley that speaks instead of himself but he finds himself reaching out to help. (he can't let another family split, not when he can help it). As long as Harley doesn't kill, no more lethal tactics, and as long as she reports everything she knows about joker, and works with him against him, she can stay outside of Arkham walls. And as for you?
Your tenth birthday hits and Bruce Wayne steps into your living room with a strangely calculating gaze and a warm smile.
“You must be Y/N? Ah, nice to meet you officially, my name is Bruce Wayne, and ill be your foster family.”
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Author's Note: Another reupload. ALSO! I HAVE GOTTEN THE ANON ASKS!! I AM JUST A SLOW WRITER I’LL GET TO EM I PROMISE!!
414 notes · View notes
mortytheestallion · 5 months
Text
let the light in
Word Count: 3.7k+
Warnings: Rick Sanchez x F!Reader, sex pollen, unprotected sex PIV, angst if you squint, cunnilingus, squirting, fingering, oral sex (m receiving), rick being kinda mean, this fic is 18+ minors dni
A/N: this was a fucking beast of a fic i've been trying to wrangle for months. based on this ask
>> Come over.
>> Emergency.
> real emergency? or morty didn’t like your vat of acid emergency?
>> I’m not gonna ask again.
Rick usually enjoys messing with you too much. He’ll beat around the bush as long as he can because it drives you insane. He loves to dangle the unknown in front of you for as long as possible, right up until you just can’t take it anymore. 
You don’t bother to rush over anymore. You used to fall all over your apartment, scrambling to find your keys amidst paperwork and weekly takeout. Cursing and throwing piles of clothes everywhere, just for them to be sitting nicely on the hook you never use. 
Only for Rick to need the screwdriver two feet to the left of him. 
“It’s important I don’t get distracted,” He would grumble at your obvious frustration, a self-important thank you as you hand it over and he sends you back on your way. 
Asshole. 
Or the time he’d let Morty’s ointment sit too long, and you had to help wrangle him back home. You seemed to be the only one who got bit, however, as Rick made it away unscathed. Typical. 
You let out a sigh, uneasiness settles like a stone deep within the pit of your stomach. 
You don’t have time to look up from your phone before a portal appears in the corner of your room. You pause for a moment, taking in the green glow and slight pulsing sound. It must really be an emergency if he couldn’t even wait for you to make the drive. It wasn’t long by any means, but you can’t ever remember a time he’s gone out of his way to portal you over. 
Slight annoyance runs through you at the convenience he’s withheld from you all this time, but you push it away. This must be urgent. That doesn’t stop you from lacing up your shoes, slowly rising to meet the portal before the familiar falling sensation hits. You still haven’t gotten used to it. 
The garage is dark, save for something that glows blue in the corner. It's not lost on you that the house’s defense barricades are currently in place. 
Rick’s sitting low on the chair he keeps at his workbench. Slouched as he braces his arms against his knees, long legs splayed open. 
His hair is even more unruly than normal. There’s a cut above his eyebrow, and dried blood that mars his lower lip. His usual look of boredom adorns his face, yet the slight twitch of his lips betrays his cool demeanor as he looks you up and down. 
Your instinct is to shrink away from him, but you hold Rick’s gaze. His signature lab coat is missing, his blue longsleeve is riddled with holes and burn marks. More dried blood makes it cling to his right side, but if it bothers him, he doesn’t show it. His long legs are spread wide as he casually lounges there, he looks much more broad than usual. 
“Are you okay?” Your breath catches, “I mean, is everything okay?” You curse yourself at the way your voice quivers under his unrelenting gaze. You hate that he has this effect on you. 
“I got hit on Gearworld-” Rick pauses, as if weighing whether or not to divulge more information, “Idiots are testing bioweapons on non-gear life forms.” His brow quicks at your panicked expression, he lazily holds one hand up to signal he’s going to continue. 
“I know this isn’t —uh, what you imagine when you slip those pretty little fingers into your pants at night, but I really need your help.” 
Your eyes go wide at his request. Sure you’ve helped him on all kinds of different planets in all different kinds of ways, but never anything like this. You can feel the heat creeping up your neck at the implications of what he’s asking. You can’t help but bite your lip, it doesn’t slip past you how Rick’s hips buck in response to the small action.
You can’t find the words. Why now? Why me?
“Now—now or never, baby,” His voice breaks your trance, “I got a fucking problem here and if you’re not into it don’t— I’m gonna take care of this myself.” 
“Why me?” You bite your lip, suddenly shy as you shift your weight. He lets out a groan, his spare hand dragging across his face in annoyance. Always the drama queen.
“Are you really gonna make me say it?” You’re locked in a stalemate. His chest is heaving from whatever they’ve injected him with, although you have a pretty good idea by now. He looks at you like he’s hungry. It makes you lose your train of thought. He lets out a groan and a soft fuck. Pleasure shoots down your back and settles down deep in your spine, it makes you shudder. 
““You didn’t think I wouldn’t notice the way you ogle me? I had to pull you out of an alien hole for god's sake, because you were too busy watching me instead of doing what I told you.” 
“You’re such a dick!” Embarrassment washes over you like a flood. The blood rushing through your ears is so loud as it carries the thump thump thump of your heart. 
It’s so Rick to have known about your feelings before you did. Part of you wishes you could crawl inside your apartment and never leave again. You’d just have to get used to the 24 DVDs piled against the TV, and apparently salisbury steaks are back. You could make that work.  
“Yeah I’m a dick with a problem so either get riding or get the fuck out.” 
Fuck he’s mean. You hate that it turns you on. You like to think that under different, less dire circumstances he’d be nicer. You know he cares for you, he wouldn’t keep you around if he didn’t. It’s so sick. You’re watching him get better, be better, and yet he seems to revert back just when you need him the most. 
You take a step toward him and he’s on you, instantly. His shoulders drop as rushes to get his hands on you. He huffs rucking your pants down your thighs. You kick your pants off the rest of the way, watching as he wastes no time to rip your lacy underwear off your body. 
“Fuck it feels good to do that for real,” you quirk an eyebrow at his statement, but he ignores you in favor of sucking a bruise where your hip meets your thigh. His other hand trails upward, tugging on your shirt to indicate he wants it off. You comply quickly, letting out a soft moan as he bites the tender flesh spot he’s been nursing below you. 
Rick always runs warm, handprints burning into your skin as he grips any piece of you he can get his hand on. You whine at the loss of contact as he uses his workbench you’re pressed against as leverage to bring himself back up to your level. 
You squirm underneath him, the press of the cool metal against your back combined with his rough clothes against your front proves overwhelming as he takes your face into his hands. 
He kisses you like you’re air and he’s drowning.
You go limp against him, allowing him to lick into the wet cup of your mouth. The metallic taste floods your mouth, he’s kissing you so hard his lip resplit. You can feel yourself clench around nothing as you bite it and he groans. 
His face is rougher, you realize, more than you imagined. Stubble rubbing against you as he makes his way down your neck sucking and biting. You can’t help the mewls coming from your mouth that he elicits, you can tell it’s fueling his ego as huffs below you. 
His sweater itches against you, but the burn only fuels the arousal as it pools within your core, you whimper as his hand brushes against your front. Your soft sounds egg him on as he returns to your mouth, he gives your lip a rough tug with his teeth before plunging back in with his tongue. 
Rick had always been rough with you, this was something else though. He shoves a knee between your thighs, groaning at how warm you feel against him. One hand reaches around to grip the back of your neck as the other catches the back of your thigh to bring your leg around his hip. 
He grinds against you this way, holding you so tight you worry you might break in half. You sigh against him, desperate for any contact that allows pleasure to ripple through you as the rough material of his pants continues to catch against your clit. 
Affection from Rick was so rare, you continue to drink in this feeling, relishing in being special enough to have him give you so much of his attention. 
You let out a whine as he breaks the kiss, upset at the loss of contact. He sucks air in through his teeth as he leans back, taking a moment as his eyes rake over your body. You take this as an opportunity to explore him with your hands, taught skin supported by firm muscle bounces back against your fingers. 
You don’t miss the way he’s straining against his pants, bulge prominent against the khaki adorning his legs. 
You take the natural pause as an opportunity to push his sweater up indicating you want it off, he wastes no time to fulfill your request as he rips it from his body in the blink of an eye. Goosebumps raise on his skin as his bare form meets the cool air, Rick presses himself back against you seeking your warmth. 
“Are you gonna fuck me, or-or are you just gonna—oh!” You squeal as he tweaks your nipple in warning, he gives into your request, nonetheless. You feel a slender finger drag down the length of your body. You lean forward to capture the corner of his jaw, biting softly to busy yourself as you wait for him to touch you. 
Your heart leaps, a shudder makes its way down your spine as his fingers catch on your clit, giving his attention to where you need it the most. You’re already wet and warm for him, a low groan escapes his throat as he feels you. 
He nudges a long finger between your folds, drinking in the sounds it pulls from you. He watches your expression intensely, the slightest indication of pleasure spurring him on as he seeks your validation. 
You can tell he’s holding himself back, sweat beads along his hairline as he’s lost deep in getting you off. You wish you could reach out and smooth his furrowed brow, but you’re cockdumb on his fingers alone. You always thought it would be good with Rick, but you didn’t know it would be this good. 
You buck into his hand as the arousal floods deep within the pit of your stomach, it's almost overwhelming how electric his touch feels. 
He shifts underneath you, attacking the soft spot above your collarbone as he sucks the flesh tender. He removes his finger from your clit, choosing to run it through your soft slit instead. You moan loudly at the sudden shift in contact, he grunts in response, releasing your shoulder from his bite. 
You open your eyes as he removes his hand, sucking in a breath as he brings it to his mouth and sucks. 
You gush as he moans around his fingers, the sound vibrating through his chest as you watch him savor you. He releases them with a pop, a strand of salvia linking them back to his mouth. He doesn’t hesitate as he pushes those fingers into you, and you jolt at the sudden contact. 
Your fingers are gripping the workbench so tight you’re sure if you looked down they’d be white. Your back arches as his fingers slide in easily to the knuckle. 
“Is this what you wanted?” He murmurs, but you know he wouldn’t hear the answer even if you had one to offer him, eyes half mast watching his fingers pump in and out of the tight channel of your pussy. He slips another finger into you, and your arms give out at the wave of pleasure that assaults your senses. 
Every muscle in your body tightens as he angles his hand so the flat edge of his palm can press against your clit. He continues to curl his fingers against the spongy piece inside you, focusing on how your cunt pulses slick and hot against him. 
“Fuck– Rick, I-I might, I’m gonna—” He can barely hear you, too distracted by the lewd he elicits out of you. There’s sweat beading along your hairline, he can feel your lowering muscles spasming as he twists and scissors his fingers. 
He picks up the pace, you can feel yourself dripping against his hand, clenching as your orgasm rapidly approaches. He moans as you grip his forearm, nails digging into the muscle. 
“Fuck!” You cry out as he fucks his fingers up, he twists his hand to press circles against your clit and you scream. You clench hard around him in soft, hurried spasms that make him choke on the groan he was about to let slip. He feels the rush of liquid that flows out of you as you burst across his knuckles. 
He watches as you arch off of his workbench, shuddering as he pulls pleasure out of you in waves. He thinks he could come in his pants from this alone, the pollen coursing through his veins making him lightheaded. His skin is too tight for his body, limbs feeling as though he’s moving through molasses. 
Every time you touch him feels like a douse of cool water. He shakes his head, trying to clear the fog of heat that makes his vision blur. He wants to bring you closer, he’d bury himself inside of you, carve himself deep within your chest if he could. Every cell within his body is screaming, urging him to lick and suck and devour you. 
“I can’t– I’m not gonna be able to be gentle with you,” you peer up at him, eyes wet from the intensity of your orgasm, “I won’t be able to take it slow.” 
You swallow, eyes flicking down to his crotch before meeting his gaze. 
“Do you think it’ll fit?” 
He barks out a laugh before curling his fingers you didn’t realize were still inside you. You cringe, at both the tender feeling and the loud squelch that emits from below you. 
“Yeah, yeah sweetie, it’s gonna fucking fit,” Rick wastes no time undoing his belt, wolfish grin ghosting his lips. He lets out a deep moan and fuck as he pulls himself out. 
You can’t help the noise you make at the sight of it, he’s thick and leaking. You wish you had more time, you’d love to take him in your mouth and make him see god. You take him in your hand instead, brushing your thumb along the top of his cock and humming when his body jerks with it. He thrusts into your grip impatiently, your fingertips catching every ridge and crevice along his length. 
You gasp as a calloused hand reaches up in one swift movement to grab your throat. 
He enters you with one swift movement, pushing your legs up to get a better angle, ignoring the way you groan as your back hits the wall.  
You ignore the pain, blooming for him—sucking him in with your molten heat that nearly blinds him. You want to make it good for him. You want him to know that you can be good for him. You want him to come back after a particularly rough day and bend you over his work bench, or call you in the middle of the night purring for you. 
“Fuck, Rick, oh my god,” your eyes roll back, cunt contracting around him. He responds with a heavy slap to your ass that lurches you backward, almost off of him before he slams back into you. His strokes are deliberate and powerful, he fucks you so hard he can hear it. 
He fucks and fucks you, every slam of his hips making your lashes flutter. You’re shuddering around him, walls spasming as you cross the line into overstimulation. You let out a strangled cry, your second orgasm hangs in front of your face and you start to push back against him, desperately seeking release. 
Rick’s jaw clenches, clicking from an old injury. He’s trying to control himself, but you’re burning hot and tight as all hell. He bites the inside of his cheek as you blossom around his length, throwing his head back as the loud slap slap slap of his hips keeps you dripping on his cock. 
You allow yourself to drink in Rick’s distracted state, dragging a soft hand up and down the side of his body, relishing in the way he shudders and gasps at your touch. The idea that he’ll discard you after this, making excuses about not being himself or reacting to the effects of pollen hits you like a truck. It almost sobers you out of your cock-drunk state. 
He draws you out of your spiraling with a strained gasp as your fingers find tender flesh, you hesitate before digging into the soft muscle with your nails. It pulls on your heartstrings to willingly inflict pain on him, but any remorse is instantly washed away at the way his dick twitches inside you. 
“Sh-shit, do that again,” Comes that dark, gritting baritone as he releases his grip on your legs, choosing instead to wrap a calloused hand around your neck, quickening his pace with sloppy thrusts. Rick lets out an honest to god moan and you clench around him. He pulls out abruptly, and you whine at the loss of contact. 
Hurt floods your features, anxiety clawing its way up your chest at the smallest sign of rejection. There's not enough time to ruminate before he’s back on you, sliding to the hilt. You hiss at the return of pressure, pain searing into you. Adjusting around him, you slide your nails down his back. He moans arching into your touch. 
“I don’t–,” He’s interrupted as a particularly deep thrust hits something spongy within you and you’re writhing under him. He captures your jaw in his firm grip forcing you to look up at him through hooded eyes. 
You look utterly fucked out. Tears leaking from the corners of your eyes make his cock twitch, he’s ready to come but he needs to tell you first. He needs you to know.
“I don’t think you understand just how fucking long— ” Your eyes go wide, “I’ve wanted to hit this hot fucking cunt.”
Each of his words is punctuated with a particularly hard thrust. Your breath hitches in your throat at his confession. 
“I know I’ve been a dick lately—” 
“Jesus, fuck, Rick, just shut up and fuck me!” You can’t take it anymore, god knows how he’s doing it in his state. Your outburst earns you a hard slap to your ass that he’s holding off the edge of the workbench, whimpering as his fingers dig into the burning flesh. Part of you wanted to hear what he had to say, but you need it to be from him. Not from the Rick with aphrodisiac poison coursing through his veins. 
The room is dense with the sound of wet flesh coming together again and again as he takes his thumb and rubs it over your clit in short, quick circles. His cock throbs inside you, you feel your pussy making room for him where you didn’t think possible, allowing him to carve you open and make you his. He grips your hips harder as you try to push away from him, the pleasure overwhelming. 
“Uh-uh, I’m not done with you. You–you wanted the Rick, baby, I’m gonna make sure it’s worth your while.”
His pace begins to chase something frantic, you writhe under him as he licks a hot stripe up the side of your neck. You’ve been reduced to nothing but high pitched moans, panting and shivering under him. Your pleasure crests until you feel you’ll explode.
And you do. Your vision goes black as your orgasm racks your body and you explode wet– nearly pushing him out of you as you shove the heels of your hands into your eyes because you cannot look at him right now. 
“Fuck,” He rasps, “Goddamn, did you— you just– you’re–,” it just melts into a pile of sounds before he’s groaning sinfully, a last, hard thrust before there is the telltale sprouting of warmth within you. 
You're drunk on him, absolutely fucked out as your walls still spasm around him. You yelp as he drops you back on the workbench before dropping down to his knees. 
He ducks his head to slide the flat of his tongue through your folds, tasting the slick that drips from you. You shudder, clumsy hands tugging his hair, pulling him off you. You manage to prop yourself up on one arm, looking down at him.
“God you’re fucking filthy.” “You like it.”
His chest is heaving, cock rehardening already from where it rests above the waistband of his unzipped pants. It makes you cringe, he must be in so much pain. 
If he is, he doesn’t let it show. It's something you’ve always noticed about him, the lengths he goes to hide himself from the world. From you.
He’s given you this, even in his own fucked up way he’s given you this. It makes your heart swell. Worry picks at you from deep in your subconscious, but you push it away for now. You want to give him something back, he knows how you feel but you need him to know. 
It’s why you’re sliding off the bench, sinking to your knees as he rises above you. 
“Damn, I would’ve fucking injected myself with that shit if I had known it would’ve gotten you here like this, for me,” He’s so fucking smug, stupid smirk gracing his lips as you take him in your mouth. You’ll wipe it off though, prove to him why he chose you. 
Make sure he’ll always want to choose you.
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strangemagicc · 3 months
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Nobody Has to Know | Chapter Two
masterlist | <prev | next>
pairings: modern!brother’s best friend!Eddie x fem!Reader
summary: the next morning Eddie is adamant about ignoring you but that only lasts so long
author’s note: I think this is the longest chapter for anything I’ve ever written and I enjoyed writing it so much. There’s just something about Eddie lately. I hope you enjoy sweetness because next chapter will be a little sour 🖤 comments/reblogs and feedback is always so appreciated ! I want to hear from you 🫶🏻
w/c: 9.4k
warnings: cheating (technically not reader or Eddie), smut - oral (reader and Eddie receiving), fingering, discussions of trauma/injuries relating to a car accident
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“Oh shit!”
Eddie could hear your worry as he rounded the corner. His heavy boots loud against the plastic tiled floor catching your attention.
The fear was vibrant in your eyes when you turned to him, a quiet cry for help and he couldn’t help but chuckle at the scene.
The kettle in the popcorn machine was overfilled, smoke billowing from behind the glass doors as you stared in horror.
Charred pieces of popcorn fell into the vat, the burnt smell wafted around you and filled the air.
“Way to go Little Lipton,” he laughed and moved around you to turn off the machine.
“Alright,” he sighed heavily, “this one is going to be out of commission for a bit so we’ll need to make sure that one is always prepped with fresh kernels,” he tilted his chin to the only other popcorn machine and leaned against the counter with his arms crossed.
“Out of commission?” Your voice rose an octave, face twisted in horror. His words raising alarm.
“Yeah,” he laughed as though his next words were obvious.
“We have to clean this one before we use it or all the other batches are going to taste like shit and that’s not the easiest or fastest task.”
“He’s going to kill me,” you groaned and dropped your head.
He being your manager and a major pain in your ass since the day you started working here. He wanted things a certain way; candies lined in a specific direction, cups displayed for the customers to see, popcorn made to perfection and not burnt until it turned to dust.
“Probably not kill, just maim,” Eddie shrugged with a crooked grin and stared down at you with amusement as you collected your thoughts.
“You never told me what to do if I burnt the kernels,” you abruptly looked up at him and swatted at his arm playfully.
“That’s because I told you not to overfill the kettle and never thought you’d ignore that tidbit,” he sighed dramatically, “guess that’s what I get for thinking.”
Reflexively he moved out of arm’s reach before you could do any serious damage.
Eddie enjoyed the way your lower lip jutted out, the way your forehead creased between your eyebrows when you were mad and fuck, were you pissed.
It had been nearly two weeks since you started working at Hawk Theater, trying to save up for the new camcorder you’d been eying, and Eddie had been assigned to train you.
Or his form of training which was a lot of “this is how they want us to do it but this is what works.”
The problem was that you’d been distracted.
It was the way his smile lifted to the side and the way he tied his long curls into a messy ponytail. And sometimes, the sun would shine through the glass and hit his eyes just right, making them look like molten honey.
You couldn’t help the nervous flutters that sprung when he was near, your childhood crush resurfacing with teeth and taking hold of you.
It made it hard to listen, to remember the instructions he told you like not to fill the kernels past the very obvious line or else.
He never expounded on the or else but negative consequences were heavily implied.
“You’re such a jerk,” you rebutted but the venom fell flat, the insult sounding endearing to Eddie’s ears.
“You already knew I was, sweetheart. Don’t know why you expected anything different now that you work with me,” he began cleaning out the popcorn machine. Dumping the burnt kernels into the trash can before adding the cleaning solution to the kettle.
Your heart was still fluttering, replaying the single pet name over and over again.
“Guess that’s what I get for thinking,” you mimicked him and began helping him clean so the two of you would be ready for opening in thirty minutes.
Eddie watched you from the corner of his eye, the way your gaze was lit with mischief as you teased him and he couldn’t help but smile to himself.
“Are you two trying to set this place on fire?” Mark Huntzberger, the manager, bellowed as he came down the stairs from his office eyeing the mess you had made.
He descended with a stern, critical eye that shifted over the concessions stand and back to you.
You couldn’t help the way you shrank under his scrutiny.
“I know this may just be some summer job to you, girl, but this is my livelihood. If you can’t get it together by the end of the week I will make sure this one fires you.” He turned his attention to Eddie whose face had gone flat, eyebrows set in a straight line. Jaw tensed.
“It was an honest mistake,” Eddie interjected.
“Clean it up,” Huntzberger ordered and disappeared into the ticket booth.
“Why did I think this was going to be easy or fun?” You questioned more to yourself than to Eddie, shoulders tensed.
You tied the trash bag containing the kernels and pulled it from the can.
“Because the town fuck up works here, how hard can it be?” He nudged you with a wink.
“Move over, Eddie. Someone’s about to take your place,” you giggled and walked towards the exit doors that led to the alley behind the cinema.
“Don’t do that, it’s the only thing I got going for me,” his grin grew wider as he followed behind you.
He was all self-deprecation all the time and you began to wonder how much of it he really believed. A pang of sadness twisted in your gut.
The summer air was suffocating with its humidity and the stench of spoiled food wafting from the dumpsters.
You began to lift the bag over your head when Eddie took it from you and hoisted it in the metal canister.
“Y’know it’s not true, Ed’s,” you began, looking up at him. Eyes squinted from the intensity of the sun.
“What’s not?” He questioned, leaning against the brick wall that hid the dumpsters from the rest of the alley.
“That you don’t have anything else going for you,” you cleared your throat, “you have lots of talents-“
“Ah, yes, I am known for my natural ability to annoy and antagonize,” he interrupted and you rolled your eyes.
“I’m being serious! I mean, I don’t know many people who can learn a new song on the guitar half as fast as you. Didn’t you learn Master of Puppets in like a week?”
You remembered that?
“And what about all the stuff you know about cars? Or the random tidbits about pop culture and music? You’re like an encyclopedia britannica,” you continued.
“For all things useless,” he corrected and you poked his side causing him to flinch away from your touch.
“I mean it!” You insisted, eyes wide. Endearing. The same look you got when you were excited about something and Eddie laughed, ears turning a shade of red from the attention you gave him.
“You’re just trying to flatter me so I don’t fire you,” he joked and you continued to look up at him with a dramatic bat of your eyes, inching closer.
“Is it working?” You retorted, exaggerating the breathiness of your voice.
“Flattery always works with me, sweetheart,” he winked and turned back to the building.
There it was again.
Your heart stopped, skipped, and started again as you willed your legs to move. You watched his retreating frame, eyes boring into the back of his head.
“You coming?” He didn’t stop walking and you took wide steps to catch up with him, walking in stride back to the theater.
Before you went back through the door you grabbed his arm, eyes pouring with sincerity.
“I meant what I said, Eds,” he looked at you with a questioning perk of his eyebrow.
“You don’t give yourself enough credit,” you swallowed hard and squeezed his arm before pulling open the door, the cold cinema air greeting you.
Eddie watched your retreating frame for a moment, a little taken aback, before following you to the concession stand.
The two of you fell into an easy silence as you worked.
You wiped the counters and finished cleaning the popcorn maker as instructed by Eddie while he set up the rope dividers in between each register, making sure things were organized just as Mark liked before the doors opened.
You were ready for the day; doors unlocked and fresh edible popcorn ready for the masses. A mass of moviegoers already lined up at the ticket booth.
The two of you rested against the counter waiting for the first customer to approach when he leaned over to you, warm breath fanning your ear.
“Thanks, (Y/N).”
It was the first time he said your name. Acknowledged you as something other than Little Lipton.
The first time Eddie saw you as more than just his best friend’s little sister.
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Eddie clamored into his trailer, heavy boots dragging across the worn carpet as he trudged to the kitchen and swung open the fridge, grabbing a six-pack that was nearly gone.
He spread out on the couch and chugged one can before reaching for another, eyes darting around his home. Eddie had it to himself for the week, Uncle Wayne out on another cross-country drop-off, and now the silence engulfed him.
The clock on the wall ticked loudly as the seconds passed and his thoughts clashed with each other.
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Eddie tried to keep his attention on the TV as you entered the room for the fourth time that afternoon and Rick shook his head.
“Dude, I think my sister might like you,” your brother laughed as you disappeared back into your room.
Eddie scoffed at his words but the thrum of his heart would’ve given him away if Rick could hear it.
“I’d never date your sister,” Eddie nudged his arm against Rick’s, eyes trained on the video game as he sniped an enemy target.
“Like I’d let you,” he chuckled.
Eddie’s brow twisted in confusion and it wasn’t lost on Rick when he turned to him to emphasize his point.
“Oh come on, I love you man but there’s no way in hell I’d let my sister date a guy like you.”
Eddie chuckled along with Rick to conceal the sting of his friend’s words
He knew all the things that people didn’t like about him. His hair, his tattoos. The bad reputation he’d more than earned but to hear it from his best friend made it sting more.
He wondered if you saw him that way; a loser with no future. Just the town freak and he promised he’d never put himself out there to know.
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Eddie pressed his palm to his eye, Rick’s words reverberated off his skull as he grappled with the feelings he’d long ignored.
The feelings that had sprouted and made a home of him since the summer he worked with you.
Eddie could still feel your lips against his, the electricity that hummed in his veins and he wished it had lasted a moment longer.
He made a mistake, a huge mistake, and winced every time he thought about the look on your face when he pushed you back into the passenger seat.
Eddie knew if it went further you’d only regret it once the sun came up and you’d sobered up. Once the realization hit that you’d slept with the pariah of Hawkins and he couldn’t live with you seeing him that way, with you regretting him.
Not when he already saw it in so many eyes around town.
He wasn’t exactly someone you could take home, someone you could brag about or show off a picture of. He knew that much, had been told that much so he accepted it to be true.
When girls got with Eddie they expected fun, they expected drugs, and a quick hookup.
Some of them never talked to him again, pretended they didn’t know him when they ran into him and others told him that being with him made them realize they’d hit rock bottom.
God, he couldn’t handle you telling him that he was your rock bottom.
Eddie decided it was better to ignore it, to ignore you. Better to pretend it didn’t happen despite the way he felt to spare himself from the regret he knew you’d feel.
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It was a rainy day, fat drops bouncing off the windshield as your father drove. Faster than usual. In a hurry but you didn’t know where to.
The air conditioner was off creating a layer of condensation on the windows, making your legs stick to the leather seats of your family’s beat-up station wagon.
You drew butterflies on the glass, finger tracing against the cool pane. Grin wide as your drawings exposed the gray of the sky, the way the dark clouds rolled against its expanse.
The low hum of Strawberry Fields Forever played over the radio but your parent’s voices were louder.
Angrier.
Your mom sniffled and you leaned up in your seat to see if she was crying, the length of her hair concealing her face from view.
“Mama,” you pushed against her seat with your sneakered foot but she didn’t respond.
“Jude, please pull over. I can drive.” Your mom insisted, tugging at your father’s arm but he shoved her off.
You unbuckled your seat belt and pulled at your mom’s shirt trying to get her attention.
“Mom.”
But your voice was cut off, muffled below the volume of the radio as your dad’s hand reached for the dial turning it until your ears rang.
You shrank back into your seat, lower lip jutted as you looked at them. No longer able to understand what your parents were saying, the scene in front of you a mix of gestures and twisted faces leaving you confused.
Your mother pulled on your dad’s arm again and he shoved her off, turning his head to look at her. Mouth wide as he spoke but you still couldn’t understand what he said.
Everything else became a blur of lights and pain.
Endless pain shooting from your leg and throughout your body.
Your cries wracked your body but were silent to your own ears.
The scene around you a mix of broken glass and lifeless eyes.
Then darkness.
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You woke in a cold sweat, tank top clinging to your body uncomfortably.
Behind your eyes, your head pounded in a steady rhythm, one that matched the way your heart was racing. Bile began to rise to your throat, the nausea that always accompanied the nightmare.
The sting of your leg a reminder of the accident, of the pain from that day.
You pressed your palms into the skin of your thigh massaging the muscle marred by a thick scar that was a shade lighter than the rest of your flesh.
It ached like it just happened, like you were ten years old again trapped in that car and you groaned trying to bring yourself back to the present. Tried to ground yourself with the distant sound of the coffee maker and the smell of burnt toast.
Slowly you came back to the present, heart settling into a steady rhythm as you glanced around your room.
Sunlight streamed through your sheer curtains in brilliant rays, yellow hues painting your walls and highlighting the dust that danced through the air.
You threw your head back against the pillow, not ready to face the day. Images of the night before flooding your vision.
Simon and Rachel, her mouth pressed to his. The way she smiled up at him, held his hand.
The scene too familiar for a random drunken hook-up.
You pressed your palms into your eyes, rubbing until you saw swirls. Until you were reminded of Eddie’s stunned face as you sat in his lap, hands on his chest. The way he bucked into you.
The way he pushed you back into the passenger seat.
“Fucking idiot,” you groaned with embarrassment, pulling your pillow over your face as you let out a scream.
You stayed concealed under the pillow, contemplating jumping into the lake and disappearing altogether. Not ready to face Simon and Rachel. Or Eddie.
You flailed your body as another wave of embarrassment rolled through you, causing your pillow to fall from your face.
The incessant buzz of your phone caught your attention and you looked at its illuminated face. The screen full of notifications that you could see without grabbing it.
Hesitantly you reached for it, eyes pouring over all the texts.
11:55PM
Simon: Guess you decided not to come tonight?
12:00AM
Simon: helloooo?
12:23AM
Simon: so you’re just going to ignore me now cos I asked you to go out?
Simon: not like we can’t do date night another time, wanted to go have some fun for once
1:03AM
Simon: so you did show up
Simon: you left with MUNSON?
2:30AM
Simon: you’re really just going to ignore me?
2:33AM
Rachel: (Y/N)?
Rachel: Simon is really worried about you
7:49AM
Simon: We need to talk
8:36AM
Rachel: Text me when you’re awake
You swallowed the emotion that arose and wondered if their guilt had kept them awake, if it had eaten at them or settled into their chest. Felt whenever they breathed.
Were they even capable of that?
Slowly you pushed the sheets off the bed and forced your legs over the edge one by one until your feet were planted firmly in the plush carpet, your back still pressed against the mattress. Your phone forgotten, lost somewhere in your bedding.
You willed yourself off the mattress and clamored out your door, mind focused on getting a glass of water to cure your dry mouth.
The throb of your head returned and fuck, why did you drink so much last night?
The smell of burnt toast grew stronger as you stumbled down the hall causing your stomach to twist into knots and you could only assume it was your brother’s fault.
“Is it really that hard to cook toast, Rick?” You complained loudly as you reached for a glass on the top shelf and turned to the sink.
Blissfully unaware that there was a set of eyes on you, watching as you whistled and filled your glass to the brim. Foot tapping to a song that only you could hear.
Eddie watched you, a little petrified like a deer caught in the headlights.
He knew he’d see you, it was your house after all, but he wasn’t prepared for how much he’d see.
His eyes traced over your legs, focusing on the swell of your ass. Watching as you leaned over the sink to get a better view of the lake from the window, exposing just a glimpse of your ass cheeks.
And it’s like you knew what you were doing, knew that he was watching and driving him just a little bit insane.
He swallowed harshly, refocusing his attention back on his breakfast. Doing his best to ignore you like he planned.
“If it isn’t little miss sunshine,” your brother greeted, words dripping with sarcasm.
You turned around to mock him but stopped in your tracks, eyes practically bulging out of your skull when you noticed Eddie and you gripped your cup harder.
Had he been sitting there the whole time?
He quietly nibbled on a piece of bacon. Avoiding your eye contact entirely.
Your embarrassment flared and god, you wanted to crawl into a hole to disappear entirely.
Blinking rapidly, you shifted your gaze from his frame to Rick.
He situated himself at the table, grabbing a plate and shoveling food onto its surface. Eggs, bacon, and the incredibly burnt toast.
“Have work today?”
“Like I do every Saturday,” you shrugged, tone bored and doing your best not to glance at the metalhead out of the corner of your eye.
You took a sip of your water, focusing on the way its cool temperature slipped across your tongue. Focusing on anything else.
“I’m not going to be able to take you to work. Mrs. Wheeler needs me to take a look at her car and then I’m picking up some extra hours at the shop.”
You had yet to overcome your fear of driving, already having a hard time being a passenger in a car. 
“Can’t mom take me?” you questioned but Rick’s head was already shaking as you spoke.
“The transmission is acting up in her car, need to look at it,” he stated around a mouth full of food.
“Then how is she getting to work?” You set your cup onto the counter sharper than you intended and folded your arms over your chest.
“She’s not, has one of her headaches again,” he gestured to his own head and shoveled more food into his mouth.
“That’s why I need the overtime and for you to go to work, we need the cash. Next deal isn’t coming in before the light bill is due.”
Your shoulders sagged, the constant stress of bills weighing heavy on you.
“I can just walk or get an uber,” you suggested with a tight smile, reaching over to grab a piece of bacon. The walk wasn’t that long.
“Your uber is already here,” he pointed to Eddie and your eyes nearly bulged out of your head.
Not happening.
“I can just walk,” you reaffirmed quickly causing Eddie’s eyebrow to quirk.
“Why are you acting like such a brat?” You rolled your eyes.
“I’m not, just don’t want to make Eddie go out of his way for me.”
You unfolded your arms and gestured absently towards him.
It was mostly true anyway, you didn’t like the idea of returning to the scene of the crime or spending the twenty minutes it would take for him to drive you to work in awkward silence.
“He’s not, stop being weird.”
“I’m not being weird,” you scoffed.  “Besides I can just ask Simon to give me a ride,” you shrugged nonchalantly, taking another bite of bacon. Rick didn’t need to know that you weren’t talking to Simon and definitely wouldn’t be getting a ride from him.
Eddie’s elbow settled against the wooden dining table as he watched you, the way you so easily lied to your brother.
“Jesus, fine, whatever.” Your brother raised his hand up to get you to shut up and chugged his orange juice. 
You reached for another piece of bacon but this time off his plate. Rick reached for your hand, shaking the piece out of your grasp, and turned to you, face twisting in disgust when he noticed what you were wearing.
“Go put some clothes on before Eddie gauges his fucking eyes out.” He wiped his mouth and waved a dismissive hand at you, chuckling at his own joke before biting into the piece of bacon that you tried to steal.
Eddie chuckled along with your brother, his pale cheeks blossoming pink and you sneered at him.
“Oh, I’d really hate for him to do that,” your voice dripped with sarcasm as you rolled your eyes and disappeared back down the hall to your room.
You pressed your back against the wooden door, annoyance making a place in your chest and overtaking any embarrassment you’d previously felt.
No, Simon wouldn’t be giving you a ride but neither would Eddie. You’d rather risk showing up a sweaty mess than sit in a car alone with him.
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What you hadn’t planned on was for it to start raining. One of Hawkins’ sporadic downpours graced the sky as autumn settled into its foliage.
The maple leaves had already started turning yellow, their brightness a contrast against the gray sky. The air smelled of the evergreens, the sharpness of their leaves mixing with the sweetness of the maple trees.
You took a deep breath as you continued your walk, the road feeling longer in the bad weather.
Your converse trudged through the mud splashing dirt onto the cuffs of your jeans. Your white assistant manager shirt clung to your skin leaving little to the imagination and you crossed your arms over your chest.
There was a small part of you that wished you had just taken the ride but there was a bigger part, the more prideful one, that was glad you hadn’t.
Not after the way he laughed at you, at the thought of even being attracted to you. When you’d just mauled him the night before and this would be the perfect time for lightning to strike you down.
To end your misery, the embarrassment clinging to you once again like your clothes did.
In the distance, you could hear a car approaching and you moved further into the dirt to avoid being hit hoping it wasn’t a creeper or a new serial killer looking for his next victim.
But it was worse.
It was Eddie.
Smiling at you from his rolled-down window, van driving slowly on the road's edge.
“Are you that fucking stubborn?” He asked, although he already knew the answer.
“Go away, Munson.”
You didn’t look at him, eyes focused on the road ahead.
“Simon a no-show, huh?”
You clicked your teeth, trying to appear nonchalant. Like the words didn’t dig at you.
“Doesn’t appear so.”
His shoulders sagged as you continued to ignore him, deciding to appeal to your sensible side instead.
“You’re going to get sick.”
“So?”
And why did he think you could be sensible?
He groaned and sped up only to stop the car just in front of you to block your path. You stopped in your tracks, listening as he climbed out of the driver’s seat and rounded the car.
“Are we really going to do this again?,” he questioned as he trudged toward you. Boots slamming into the mud. Curls a little wild when he looked at you.
“Do what?” You gave him an innocent smile, eyelashes batting dramatically. 
Eddie closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
“Just get in the fucking car,” he stated through gritted teeth, his annoyance only making your grin widen.
“Sure you wouldn’t rather gauge your eyes out?” Your voice dropped low, mocking Rick’s tone. You dropped your smile, gaze a little cold as it met his before and you pushed past Eddie.
He threw his head back, face to the sky. Of course, you were pissed about that.
“I’m sorry, okay?” He turned to you, watching as you continued to walk away from him.
“For driving me home last night and making out with me or for laughing at me this morning?” You turned around and began to walk backward, arms lifting from your side. A little tired, a little defeated and you stopped beside his van waiting for his answer. Concealed from the rest of the road.
“Laughing at you,” his voice was earnest, “I didn’t mean it.”
You nodded, his words a salve to that wound but still, there was the mortifying way he pushed you away from him.
Eddie began to walk towards you, drawing closer. The scent of his cologne invading your senses.
“Sure you aren’t sorry about the making out part?” You questioned, eyes trained on his amber gaze as he approached.
He swallowed roughly and debated whether he should be honest and simply shook his head.
You shrugged your shoulders trying to appear flippant, to seem as though his reassurance didn’t affect you the way that it had. Heart hammering wildly, legs a little wobbly because Eddie Munson didn’t regret kissing you.
“Well that’s good, I’m glad neither of us regretted it,” you turned from him, missing the way his gaze lit up at your words. The reassurance that he needed.
“Now you can go on your merry way and pretend that you gave me a ride. I promise I won’t tell my brother that you didn’t.”
His hand was warm against your arm as he spun you to look at him.
Your shoes slid against the wet earth from the force and it was for a brief moment that you saw him before you crashed into the soft mud.
“Fuck-“ your curses were synchronized as you fell and pulled him atop of you, his weight causing you to groan from the sudden impact.
Eddie’s knee was slotted between your legs as he lifted his weight onto his forearms, brown gaze boring into your eyes. An apology on his lips when you began to laugh. Giggles filling the air around you.
You looked at the evidence of your fall, your white shirt was painted brown, ruined, and marred from the mud. Your hair was a mess of dirt that clung to your face.
Eddie was void of any dirt, the only evidence was the mud that soaked through the pants of his jeans and it was a little bit annoying.
Slowly you reached your finger up and slid it across his pale skin with a wide mischievous smile. Chuckling at the way his eyebrows married at your actions, the way his jaw jutted to this side and he shook his head.
“You brat,” he lifted a hand and attempted to copy your actions as you tried to wiggle away. His free hand stilled you, holding you by the waist his he dragged the other across your cheek.
His playful smile mirrored yours.
“You jerk, I have to get to work!” But your tone didn’t match the light in your eyes.
“I don’t think Huntzberger wants you hovering over the popcorn, let alone walking into the building, like this.”
His eyes roamed your body, noticing the way your nipples were pebbled against your shirt. The way your jeans hugged the flare of your hips as you squirmed beneath him.
Your breath hitched as he took you in, chest rising and falling at a quickened pace that wasn’t lost on Eddie.
“How much time do you have before work?” His voice was a little gruff, affected, and it took a moment for you to form a coherent thought.
Your eyes blinked rapidly, hands resting on his chest absently and you cleared your throat.
He lifted off of you and reached a hand to help you up but you pulled him down into the mud beside you.
“You little shit!” Eddie looked at himself, the mud that clung to his jacket and jeans.
“Oops,” you shrugged and leaned out of his way as he threw mud at you.
“I have like two hours,” you laughed, looking at him completely amused.
“How long did you think it was going to take you to walk?” He lay there defeated, chuckle matching yours.
“I don’t know, it was just in case-“
“In case what? You had to fight a pack of wood rats to get through?”
“Shut up,” you shoved his face from yours, mud caking his cheek.
Eddie gasped at the same time you did, realization dawning as he tackled you back into the mud.
It was like the whole world fell around you, ceasing to exist except for you and Eddie. His muddied face hovering above yours, long fingers digging into your sides as you wiggled away from him.
Your giggles filled the air and you pushed at his chest.
“Stop! I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Tears sprang in your eyes as you pushed against his chest, dirt seeping further into your clothes as you lay there at his mercy.
“Say please,” he insisted and you shook your head, hands gripping his shirt,
For a moment he stopped, fingers stilled at your sides and he smiled at you mischievously. Face moving half an inch closer and your smile faltered briefly, gaze darting to his lips and back to his eyes. Their deep brown staring back at you, a light in them you hadn’t seen.
“You don’t regret it?” He questioned, needing reassurance. His breath fanning against your face.
You shook your head already knowing the “it” that he thought you regretted and he leaned closer, his lips a whisper above your own.
Shaky breaths mixing with yours.
Your heart skipped as you anticipated the first touch, your eyes fluttering closed.
Eddie pulled away, slowly. Hesitantly.
“Think we should get you back home,” he looked down at your dirtied clothes and chuckled, face hovering above yours and you tried to hide your disappointment as you nodded in agreement.
He pushed himself off of you wiping his hands along his jeans before stretching out his hand to help you up.
Your palm slid against his, caked dirt pressing against his warm hand and he pulled you against him. Sliding his hands down until they settled on your waist.
His nose traced yours as his fingers dug into your hips and he swallowed hard.
The composure he’d always managed to maintain quickly slipped away.
You tilted your face and ran a hand against his jaw, cupping his chin. Your thumb lazed against his stubbled flesh drawing circles in his skin.
“Fuck it,” Eddie’s lips pushed against yours.
The press of them made you gasp, just as soft as you remembered but more fervent than before.
His tongue pressed at the seam of your lips, swiping against yours when you opened for him.
He was sweet like spearmint and you hummed.
Exhilaration thrummed through you as you pulled him closer, arms wrapping around his neck.
Chest to chest.
Hearts synchronized, each beating at a rapid pace and you wanted the moment to stretch on.
For the kiss to never end.
Thunder cracked in the air and the two of you looked up at the darkened sky just as the rain began to fall.
Eddie looked back at you, dimpled grin wide as the first drop hit his cheek and you yelped when the first drops began to cascade against your cheeks.
He pressed a quick kiss to your lips, enjoying your surprised gasp. The way you instantly melted into his touch.
“Will you please get in the fucking car now?” 
You nodded rapidly, your hand slipping into Eddie’s warm palm. Allowing him to pull you towards his van and into the passenger seat.
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Your house was silent, the volume of your mother’s television low behind her bedroom door. Rick had long since left, his car missing from your driveway.
Slowly you tiptoed inside and pulled Eddie behind you like a teenager sneaking a random boy in. As though Eddie hadn’t been inside your house a million times before.
You slid the deadbolt into the door and turned to him with a wide grin, making his heart pulse with nervous energy.
His thoughts raced with uncertainty. Insecurity and god, what was he doing in his best friend’s house holding hands with his sister?
What if you didn’t regret it now but you did later?
Because you were bound to.
He was adamant you were.
Your lips made his thoughts dissipate, self-doubt replaced with a need he could no longer ignore. You both kicked off your muddy shoes, their soles landing with a soft thud against the tiled floor.
His smile grew under your kiss as you led him through the house and to the bathroom, legs moving backward as you tugged at his shirt.
Your back hit the wood of the door louder than expected and he broke apart from you, stilling to listen for any movement. His concentrated face made you giggle as you pulled him through and closed the door.
“Scared, Munson?” Your voice was teasing as you pushed him against the wooden frame and reached for the lock beside him. Twisting it until it latched.
Less than shy.
A little needy.
Challenging gaze trained on his as you pushed his leather jacket to the ground, grinning as it landed with a thud.
It was like a game, each of you teasing and feeling like you were about to explode.
He shook his head in response, crooked grin broad as he dipped his head closer to yours. Enjoying the way you leaned towards him instinctively already anticipating the moment his lips would be on yours.
“What was it you said last night?” His voice was gruff, eyebrow twitching up as he waited for your response.
You watched as Eddie traced his fingers up your arm, the warmth of them felt beneath your shirt. His pace was agonizingly slow as he created a trail to your face and rubbed an affectionate thumb against your cheek.
Your mind was swimming, eyes trained on his lips just inches from yours. Loud need surpassing any form of a coherent thought and he enjoyed how you were affected.
How you were a little dumb from just one kiss, from the press of his body against yours.
“Come on pretty girl, I know you remember,” his lips grazed against your cheek settling on the sensitive skin between your ear and your neck.
He pressed a kiss against the sensitive flesh, smiling as he felt your shudder.
“I said,” you swallowed and closed your eyes as he began to suck at your skin. The sensation driving you a little mad.
“Go on,” he instructed, breath warm against your ear.
“Nobody has to know,” your fingers tangled into his curls holding him against you. He hummed against your skin, tongue darting against the spot he just sucked.
“If you don’t want them to,” you finished, relishing the way his teeth grazed against your flesh. The way his warm breath made goose flesh sprout along your arms.
“Is that what you want?” He questioned heart hammering against his ribcage. The same self-doubt sprouting. A little mocking.
“I just want you.” He pulled away to look at you, brown eyes boring into your own. Measuring your sincerity. Not finding a hint of doubt. He swallowed hard and pressed a kiss to your lips, sucking your lower lip between his. The sensation making your toes curl and your hands tangle in his shirt.
It felt like there was electricity in the air, the hair on your arms standing on end as it buzzed around you.
The surface of his tongue dragged against your lip and you slid your own against his, matching his pace. He savored the way you tasted, swallowing your breathy moans as he led you further into the room until your ass pressed into the edge of your sink.
Eddie kissed the edge of your mouth, your jaw, your neck and lifted you to sit on the counter. Your small yelp made him smile against your skin as he pushed your collar aside and began to unbutton your shirt.
“Is this okay?” He asked, voice soft. Hands quickening as you nodded your response. The fabric dropped from your shoulders and into the sink, your breasts only concealed by the thin lace of your bra.
His cheeks blossomed red as he admired you, eyes trained on the bud of your nipples pressed against your bra and swallowed hard.
“You’re so beautiful,” his gaze met yours. Eddie’s voice sounded strained, as though he were struggling somehow and you began to push at the soft cotton of his black t-shirt. Running your hands at the patch of hair that led into his jeans up to his chest. Pushing his shirt up with your ascent and over his head, your teeth sinking into your lips as he stood before you. A new intimacy to the exposed skin you’d seen before.
It was your turn to make him shudder, to make goosebumps sprout as you dragged your fingertips down his abdomen and to his handcuff belt buckle.
Eddie’s eyes darkened as you unfastened it and tossed it aside, his fingertips tracing lines up your arms. Leaving behind a trail of electricity where they touched.
He lowered his head, breath warm against your skin as he placed kisses on your shoulder, peppering them up to your jaw.
He pulled at the straps of your bra and reached behind you for the clasp, unhooking it. Your bare breasts pressed to his chest, heat rising to deepen the color of your skin.
Eddie’s mouth was back on yours in an instant, kisses frenzied.
Need overpowering any thought as he made work of the button of your jeans while you made work of his with clumsy hands.
“Take these off,” you pushed at his chest and jumped from the counter to remove yours until you were in just your panties. Bare chest heaving with excitement.
His breath hitched at the sight of you, his hard arousal less restrained against the material of his boxers.
You kissed him again, slower. Deeper. Teeth grazing his lower lip as you stroked him over the thin material of his boxers. Smiling as he shuddered against your lips you pulled the rest of the material down.
Eddie’s hands dug into your skin as his hard cock sprang free against your stomach, the girth of it making your eyes snap open wide from the touch alone. Your pussy clenched as you thought of the stretch he would be and you needed him inside you.
He pushed your panties down until they fell to your ankles and walked you backward towards your shower, the cold of the glass door making you gasp as it touched your naked flesh.
Briefly, the two of you pulled apart.
Eddie’s pupils were blown, darkened by a different kind of hunger and breathing became difficult under his fixed gaze.
You began to stroke his hard dick rubbing your thumb against his tip, mouth-watering to have him pressed into your cheek as precum leaked down your hand.
Eddie swore he died and went to heaven as he watched you get down on your knees in front of him, your tongue dragging across the underside of his shaft.
“Holy fuck,” he breathed, bucking when you wrapped your lips around his tip. Cheeks hollowed out as you teased him inch by inch until he was pressed against the back of your mouth. It felt like you were swallowing his dick the way you pulled him into your throat, gagging as you looked up at him. Slobber collecting around his cock and dripping down his balls.
His hands fisted in your hair, watching you bob up and down his cock, dragging your hand over his shaft as you did.
Eddie whispered your name and it only made you more needy for his cum, wanting to taste his warm load against your tongue.
“Baby, baby,” his grip on your hair tightened and you stilled, eyes looking up at him with your mouth still wrapped around his cock.
“I’m going to finish before we even get started if you keep doing that,” his voice was a little strained as you pulled back releasing his tip with a small pop.
“That’s okay,” you whispered as you continued to stroke him.
He shook his head and stilled your hand, fingers wrapping around your wrist.
“Not yet,” he lifted you up and kissed your swollen lips as he reached inside the shower to turn the hot water on, steam clouds quickly filling the room.
A small giggle escaped you as Eddie hoisted you up, fingers gripping your ass. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, hands twined around his shoulders as he carried you into the warm water.
Your fingers slipped into the curls at the nape his neck until his chest was pressed against yours.
Your mouths were frenetic, all teeth and tongue. An animalistic need that came over you.
His fingers gripped you tighter as you slid your wet arousal against his shaft. The tip of his cock teasing your tight entrance.
Eddie pulled away and groaned into your neck. Teeth scraped against the sensitive flesh and you moved your head to expose more of the skin to him.
His tongue slid against your pulse, feeling the way your heartbeat thrummed wildly underneath it.
You tangled your fingers into his curls bucking against him, sliding your slick folds against his length, enjoying the way his hands clutched your hips tighter. Trying to hold onto the last of his restraint.
“I don’t have a condom,” he whispered, and you stilled.
“There’s always next time,” you promised with a kiss and Eddie couldn’t believe there would be a next time.
His lips locked with yours as he unwrapped your legs from his waist, setting your shaky legs underneath you.
Agonizingly slow, his mouth trailed down your chest. Tongue swirling around your budded nipple. Pulling it into his mouth with a gentle suck.
Your head fell against the tiled wall, nails scraping at his back as he showed your other breast the same attention. Kneading the other with his free hand.
His kisses trailed down your sternum, tongue grazing against your abdomen. As he neared your mound he lifted your leg, hooking your knee over his shoulder.
Steam billowed around you and against the glass panes, separating the two of you from the rest of the world. Water rolled down Eddie’s back soaking into his hair as his tongue left an agonizing trail up your thigh until he reached your center.
You gasped at the first swipe of his tongue, bucking as he parted your sensitive flesh.
He took his time, lapping at your already dripping arousal. Humming as he tasted you.
“Sweetheart,” he groaned, returning to your thigh to press kisses into your skin. You tilted your head back against the wall, his affected voice playing in your head on a loop.
“I knew you’d be this sweet,” his voice was gruff, vibrating against your inner thigh as he sucked and bruised your skin before returning to your aching cunt.
His tongue darted in and out of your sopping pussy, enjoying the way your quiet moans reverberated off the walls.
The way you bit your lower lip to keep yourself from moaning louder.
He began to rub gentle circles against your bundle of nerves and it felt like your mind became void of thought, ears whirring with the sound of your beating heart.
You wrapped your fingers in Eddie’s hair to keep you grounded, almost losing balance as he pulled your clit into his mouth with a gentle suck.
He teased your slick folds with his finger, prodding your entrance. Gathering your slick arousal before slowly inching inside of you until your walls were wrapped around him.
Eddie’s finger curled inside of you, pressing against your spongy center. A spot you were never able to reach on your own.
It had you seeing stars, moans growing louder and you covered your mouth to muffle the noise.
He groaned, about to cum at the sight of your pleasure with you wrapped around his finger. Slowly he added another digit, stretching you until he was knuckle deep. Your juices dripped down his hand as he quickened his pace.
The lude squelching of your pussy made his eyes roll, his tongue darting quicker over your sensitive clit.
Your grasp on his hair tightened as you began to ride his face, chasing the release you needed.
You bit back your moan and glanced down at him.
Eddie Munson was on his knees in front of you, dark brown eyes watching you as you ground your pussy against his face. His curled fingers darting in and out of your cunt, mouth sucking your clit. Freehand keeping you spread apart for him.
You gripped his hair, pulling at his curls as you began to come undone. Eyes slammed shut, the pleasure deepening until it felt like your entire body was a live wire thrumming, unfurling at your center.
You moaned his name over and over, the only word you knew how to say. No longer able to form a coherent thought as your pussy pulsed with the strength of your orgasm and Eddie didn’t move. Lapping at your release, relishing at the way you tasted as you coated his tongue.
He removed his fingers from you steadily, pressing kisses gingerly to your inner thigh, your abdomen, and up to your breasts until he was standing over you.
Eddie peppered a trail of kisses along your neck and up your cheek until his lips were pressed against yours.
You hummed as you tasted your release on his tongue, dragging your nails up his abdomen and to his chest. Enjoying the way his muscles tensed under your touch.
“Eddie,” you whispered his nickname between kisses, eyes still closed as his mouth worked against yours but your lungs were desperate for oxygen. Burning for a reprieve.
You pulled away slightly and peeked up at him through your lashes. Lungs constricting for a different reason. Obsidian eyes framed by long lashes looked back at you with an intensity that made you swallow harshly. Eyebrow pointed up as he waited for you to continue, to tell him what you’d planned to say.
His face was framed by his dark wet curls as they clung to him, porcelain skin blossoming a rosy pink from the temperature of the water, and holy, Eddie Munson was beautiful.
The kind that made your heart stutter, stop, and start again.
The kind that could have you dedicate paragraphs and soliloquies to describing the intensity of his gaze, the effect of his crooked smile.
The kind that had you staring at his lips, a little dazed and you could blame it on the world-altering orgasm. Could blame it as a side effect of the billowing steam around you. A little suffocating in its intensity.
“Yes, sweetheart?” His gruff voice broke through the silence, your train of thought, nose rubbing against yours and you crooned. Needy hands pushed at his chest and spun him around until his back was the one pressed against the wall.
Your fingers created a trail back down his abdomen and through the patch of hair that led to his cock.
“It’s my turn,” you whispered against his lips and began to stroke his length.
His jaw went a little slack, gaze trained on your teasing smile. 
Watching the way you created circles against his tip, your other hand massaging his balls. 
You pressed a quick kiss to his lips and began a trail over his jaw, settling on the sensitive skin of his neck. 
Your tongue grazed his skin, enjoying the way his dick twitched in your hand as you began to nibble gently. Sucking the sensitive spot into a bruise. Eddie groaned, head tilted against the wall as his hands explored your body. Caressing your tits, pinching your nipples between his fingers. 
His hands moved to your hips as you trailed down his chest, kisses peppered down until just above his cock. You watched him from above your eyelashes, gaze trained on the dazed look in his eye as you dragged your tongue along his shaft. Swirling it along the top, the taste of precum salty against your tongue. You moaned at his taste, eager for him to coat your throat in his release. 
Your head bobbed an inch and off again, teasing. A wicked smile on your lips when you looked up at him. 
Eddie was on the brink of destruction, about to explode from the sight of you on your knees once again and this time he wouldn’t last. 
“Such a fucking tease,” he grunted, fingers rubbing the side of your mouth. Tugging until you opened wider for him. He pushed his thumb in, groaning when your tongue swiped his finger. Sucked on it, releasing it with a loud pop. He rubbed your drool against your lips, watching it bounce back into place and you were back on his cock again. Not allowing him a moment longer to think as you sucked viciously on the tip while you fondled his balls. 
Eddie’s moans grew louder and you clenched your legs together, aching for him to stretch you. The image of him pumping into you spurred you to take him deeper and you pulled him further into your mouth, cheeks hollowed out as you took him inch by inch until he was hitting the back of your throat. 
He knotted his fingers into your hair, guiding your head up and down as you began to increase your pace. Until he was fucking your face. You concentrated on breathing through your nose, your tongue swirling while your hand gripped him. Stroking in sync with the movement of your head. Slobber coating his pubes and dripping down his balls. 
“Holy fucking shit,” he cursed, listening as you gagged around his dick and it felt like you were swallowing him whole. 
“I-I’m gonna come,” Eddie stammered, voice strained. You hummed against his cock, needy for him to finish. He pumped one more time until he was spilling into your mouth, warm come hit the back of your throat. 
You continued to suck on his cock, milking every drop out of him. Ascending to his tip to lick him clean, enjoying the way his tangy spent tasted against your tongue. 
Eddie’s body turned rosy, goosebumps breaking along his flesh. The orgasm rolling through him, felt deep in his gut and he swallowed the deep groan stuck in his throat. 
His fingers were still twisted in your hair and slowly he released his tight grip, eyes opening to see you still on your knees trailing kisses over his softening arousal and back up his torso. 
You smiled as you wrapped your arms around him as if this wasn’t your first time together. Comfortable, shyness tucked away somewhere and hidden from sight.
“Hi,” you smiled at him fondly, voice softer than when you first entered the room. Eddie rubbed an affectionate thumb against the apple of your cheek, fondness evident behind his half-hooded eyes.
“Hi,” he whispered back and held you close, pecking a soft kiss against your lips. Fast as if it were a habit. 
The two of you stood there, warm water hitting your back. Shrouded in steam and under the after-sex glow. The kind of glow that painted Eddie’s cheeks a permanent shade of pink and you didn’t think he could look any cuter. 
“I’m pretty sure I’m going to be late to work,” you giggled. Not eager to move, unsure of what would happen once you did.
“Shit, I forgot that’s why we came back,” he laughed with you. This morning’s conversation felt like eons ago.
“‘S’okay,” you grinned, “Mark will be fine without his AM for a bit. Just need to get cleaned up.” You began to push off his chest but Eddie held you there and reached over for the bottle of shampoo. 
“I can help you get cleaned up,” he offered, already reaching around you and putting too much shampoo onto his palm before you could respond. He rubbed it between his hands before massaging it into your scalp.
The smell of coconuts mixed with a floral scent filled the air as you mulled, enjoying the way his fingers felt in your hair.
“Oh my god-” you groaned, neck relaxing into his touch. Eddie chortled, enjoying the way that you melted into him even more. 
“Does that feel good?” 
“Munson, did I ever mention how talented you are with your hands?”
“I think you may have given me a hint,” he retorted, heavy on the innuendos and you slapped his chest lightly.
“Something about my mouth too,” he added, moving only slightly as you lifted your hand to swat him once more. His fingers still rubbing against your scalp, suds forming and lifting into the air. 
“You’re lucky you’re cute,” you muttered into his neck and his grin grew.
“Little Lipton thinks I’m cute,” he mused but your smile faltered as you pulled away from him. He looked at you quizzically, sudsy hands dropping from your scalp.
“What is it?” 
You pressed your palm to his chest, putting space between the two of you. Taking a deep breath. 
“I’m not Little Lipton,” you sighed, drawing invisible circles into his skin.
“Or Speilberg.” You rolled your eyes because as much as you hated, or pretended to hate, that nickname there was a part of you that felt a certain fondness for it. However small. 
“It’s (Y/N),” you swallowed, “I want you to call me by name.” 
He nodded but you didn’t look at him, eyes focused on the constellation of freckles that dotted his chest. The tattoo he let your brother do several years ago. 
Eddie pushed your chin up so you’d look at him. At the sincerity that hid behind molten honey. 
“(Y/N),” he whispered, your name never sounding any sweeter, and pressed a kiss to your lips.
“Eddie,” and he never realized that his name could ever sound saccharine on someone’s tongue. How it would be to hear it wrapped in affection. A hint of budding adoration. 
He pressed a chaste kiss to your lips, to the tip of your nose before gently pushing your back into the water to rinse the shampoo from it. 
-
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crushmeeren · 4 months
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Art by @birf__ on X — link to their account here.
Warnings; Mentions of injuries, Cursing, Kissing, Marijuana Use, Vaginal Sex, Dirty Talk, Squirting, Fem Reader
Or: You just want to spend one more easy night with Dabi before the entirety of Japan goes to hell.
Note; this is a completely re-edited, revised, reworked version of my previous Dabi/Reader—I deleted the previous one.
MDNI
It’s almost funny, you think, as you lean against the wall of the Leagues newest hideout. The reason you were convinced to join the A team in the first place—to go a long with Shigaraki’s convoluted plans.
It wasn’t Stain. Hell, it wasn’t even Shigaraki himself. It sure as fuck wasn’t All for One.
No, it was the scarred, absolutely deranged, blue eyed psycho that has daddy issues. The man who creates flames that burn over 2500 degrees celsius at their hottest, higher than Endeavors. The bastard.
To be fair, you didn’t know he had daddy issues when you saw him on TV for the first time. Yet, you saw the emotion in his eyes. Rage.
It flared, crackling brightly—hotter than the flames he produces himself.
It forced something to melt and seep into your bones, making your skin feel too tight, itchy, in an all too familiar way. You recognized another emotion on his face, one you were well acquainted with. Revenge.
You stopped at nothing to seek him out after that. Inevitably, you found him.
Now here you are, watching Dabi make, what equates to, a self-introduction video.

You’ve heard the story from him multiple times, you’ve seen him make the video over and over again. He’s shared his past and you’ve shared yours. You know people say Dabi may not feel much, hell even he says that. They say he’s heartless, cold, insane.
And—he is, but he’s also much more than that to you.
He’s kind to you, in his own twisted way, but he loves you, as much as he’s able to.
Which compared to “normal people” is actually quite a lot. Some would place him on the level of obsessed, unhealthy.
Although, who are you to judge? You act the exact same way towards him. Both of you would incinerate the world for each other, literally.
You also know he wants this video to be his own version of Dantes Inferno, about his journey navigating through hell since he was a kid.
You’ve had many conversations with Dabi about how much of a toll this takes on him. As if he’s weighted down by concrete tied to his ankles. Usually he gets so worked up that smoke ends up seeping through the seams of his staples by the end of it.
Nevertheless, he’s releasing the video tomorrow—whether it’s time for Shiagaraki to wake the hell up or not. No matter what, it’s going to rock the hero society. It’ll crumble the facade they have worked so hard to maintain. You’re lucky enough to know who he really is, the rest of the league, and the world, doesn’t. Yet.
You’re here for support, to make sure he actually gets the video fucking done, before you’re heading off for the day. Doing some sort of asinine errand for the Doc to help keep Shigaraki’s ass alive while he soaks in that vat.
You already decided that later tonight, you’re going make sure Dabi remembers he’s got you to come home too. No matter what happens after the world sees behind the veil.
After some time, you’re still leaning against the wall on the side of the room. Letting little flames ignite from your fingertips, just playing around, having one flame dance from finger to finger.
It’s another thing that had attracted you to Dabi. Even though flame quirks are a dime a dozen, and his flames burn hotter, it made you feel like you were similar, in a way.
Noticing that he’s stopped talking you look up, putting out the flame with a wave of your hand. You watch him walk to the camera to turn it off.
He was shirtless for the video. It shows off how lean he is, but it also shows all the burn scars that cross his chest and torso, up his neck and under his eyes. His hair is white right now and the staples holding him together shine under the light from overhead.
For a beat you remember how cool they feel pressing against your skin when Dabi pins you face down on the bed.
Your body flushes, warmth churning in your belly.
Being in love with a man like Dabi means he takes up most of the space in your brain, running wildly through your thoughts constantly.
To add on it’s not just Dabi you love, it’s Touya too.
You’re desperately aware of the fact that you’re not doing a very decent job of hiding the way your eyes trail his body when he speaks up. His smooth, smoky voice rumbling from his chest.
“You know, it’s rude to stare baby,” Dabi murmurs, inclining his head slightly to look at you. His gaze is sharp but his lips are pulled into a lazy catlike grin.
Embarrassment shoots through you, burrowing into your cheeks. A swarm of butterflies ravages you.
Using your hands, you set them behind you and you push off the wall, trying to form a response. Nobody else but Dabi makes you act like you’ve swallowed your tongue whole.
“Maybe I just like what I see,” you tease, trying to ignore the obvious flush of your chest and neck. Dabi turns to face you as you walk up to him.
You can’t get over the way he looms over you, forcing you to crane your neck to look up at him. The grin never leaves his face. He tugs playfully at a lock of hair that had fallen from your bun, making it seem as if you’ve swallowed cotton balls.
“Oh? You’re one to talk. I could fuck you where you stand and you’d let me,” he flirts, looking oh so casual the whole time.
Dabi twirls the same strand of hair around his finger tightly, before letting it go.
The man radiates fucking heat and it’s a bit like standing too close to a bonfire. It toes the line of too hot, as if your skin would start to melt if you got too close.
Your eyes flutter shut from the familiar warmth, and you taking a deep, steadying breath — willing away the lust that threatens to turn your insides to ash.
You desperately try to remember that now is not the time to let Dabi fuck you silly.
You reluctantly take a step back, only now realizing how close the two of you had gotten. Later, you remind yourself, trying to cool down.
Dabi pushes out his lower lip, pretending to pout.
“Dabi, c’mon, you know I’ve got to go soon. I just wanted to make sure you got this finished today,” you say with hesitation.
Dabi rolls his eyes, no doubt irritated they have you doing bullshit errands. You get it, you feel the same, but you know it’s just less of a hassle to get it done.
It’s not like you don’t want Shigaraki to wake up soon. The crazy, itchy fucker has grown on you.
Besides, you want to get the plan moving and all. Dabi knows this, yet it still pisses him off. He waves a hand dismissively, before turning back to the camera.
“Whatever, go on then,” he bites coldly. Your lips press into a line, the sting of hurt pulsing in your chest briefly.
You shove your hands in your pockets and turn to leave without saying much else. You’re not willing to get into it with him right now, the video has clearly already got him riled up.
Before you can take a step, a blistering palm grabs your forearm, turning you back around. You raise an eyebrow as you meet his intense gaze.
“Yes?” you bite back. Dabi stares down at you, hand trailing down to grip your wrist, wrapping his fingers around as a bracelet. His expression stays sharp, blue eyes piercing.
“Just come back to me tonight, okay?” Dabi demands, an underlying note of concern lacing his tone.
You can’t hold back the smile that pulls at your lips, previous hurt washed away by your adoration for the deranged man in front of you. You nod.
“I will Touya,” you whisper softly.
You tend not to use his real name often, only when you need him to know you’re serious.
It makes his eye twitch, his stomach more often than not twisting in fury when he hears it.
Not with you though. The way his name falls from your lips—he’d be remiss if he didn’t admit it soothes the open wound it’s left behind.
Without another word, Dabi bends down, brushing a kiss over your cheek, letting your wrist go. Your skin tingles where his lips were, the rough texture of his lower one always tickles. You smile softly.
Swiftly you press a kiss to the corner of his mouth in return.
“Love you too, dickhead!” You call out playfully, letting the door swing shut behind you. Dabi scoffs watching you go, but he wears, a small, loving smile at your jab.
He already wishes for the night. As long as can be with you again.
————————————————————
You’re covered in soot and ashes. Smelling like a fucking bonfire gone wrong. The flesh of your hands is singed, stinging, and you curse internally when you curl them into fists.
Generally, it happens when you overuse your quirk. The skin sizzles, steam rising from the reddened flesh. You shake your hands out as you walk, thanking God that it looks worse than it is. It’ll heal relatively quickly.
You’ve managed to procure only a couple bruises though, so you count yourself even luckier. You know Dabi will be fucking pissed either way.
You always have to talk him down from eviscerating the Doc when you wind up coming home banged up from one of his errands.
To top it off, it’s way later than when you normally return from these idiotic missions. It’s well past midnight and you’re sure Dabi is close to committing arson.
The job was a waste of your time. Granted, you admit you may have been a little distracted. You couldn’t stop thinking about the night that lay ahead of you and Dabi.
It’s hard to burn down that many buildings, discreetly, when you’re not focused 100%. You almost got caught at the last building.
Hence the new dark purple splotches covering your left bicep. They throb slightly when you accidentally brush your fingers over them. It’s a miracle you made it out, but you’re not telling Dabi that.
Walking into the front door of the, more or less mansion that is the hideout, you notice it’s quiet in the living room.
None of the usuals that hang out are down here. You look around quickly, thinking maybe you’d catch a glance of Dabi. You scowl when you don’t see his spiky white hair anywhere. You swiped something on the way home, an item that will help the two of you relax. It sits heavy in your back pocket.
You desperately want the two of you to enjoy the night before the world explodes into chaos tomorrow.
You slip your hand into your pocket, just to make sure it’s still there. Your finger tips trace the pre-rolled joints you snagged. You smile coyly to yourself, feeling your heart beat harshly against your rib cage.
A pleasant shiver rolls down your spine as you recall the last time you and Dabi had sex higher than a kite.
Smoking weed isn’t necessarily something you and Dabi do often, but when you get the chance you certainly take advantage of it.
How could you say no? Your body feels relaxed and warm, like your joints are made of butter. The pleasure is always dialed to a 10.
You know Dabi fucking loves it, the one chance he gets to truly relax. You make your way to the stairs as you chew on your bottom lip, mulling over your thoughts.
You’re hoping that once Dabi sees you’re okay, and that you have joints, he won’t be too tempted to set the mansion on fire.
You walk swiftly to your room. You pass by Mr. Compress on the way, the two of you wave in greeting. The sound of your combat boots echo on the wooden floor as you round the corner, stopping at your door.
The door is closed but that’s not unusual. Eagerly, you turn the handle and push open the door. It’s pitch black inside. That…is odd actually. Your grin quickly fades as you step inside, curious, you flip on the low light to the room.
Dabi’s not here. You feel an unwarranted flash of irritation at the realization.
As cliche as it sounds, recently you’ve been finding him playing some sort of game on his desk top computer. You’re not sure he’s ever played one before now and he seems to thoroughly enjoy it. Your chest warms as you think about him getting to experience some sort of normalcy.
However, he’s not at the desk. He’s not anywhere in your room. You shut the door behind you and walk in further. Shoving the feeling of annoyance down your throat, you remind yourself that the villain has got to be somewhere around the hideout.
Hoping he’ll pop up soon you decide it’s best to take a shower. To wash off the layer of disgusting ash you’re covered in.
Setting the joints on your dresser, you strip your nasty clothes off and throw them to the side. You grab one of Dabi’s shirts, one with a skull on it and nothing else before making your way into the en-suite bathroom.
As you stand under the spray of the scalding water, it feels unbelievable. The water acting as a much needed massage for your sore muscles.
You scrub yourself clean, hissing as the soap causes a burning sensation in your hands. You examine the newly pink, sensitive skin of your palms and flex your sore fingers.
The curtain suddenly rips open halfway and you scream loudly, arms flailing wildly. Your head whips to the side, heart in your throat as you see a smug looking Dabi. You place a hand on your chest, pulse thundering.
“You fucking jack ass! You scared the shit out of me! Where the hell have you been?” you shout, angrily flinging water at his face.
Dabi laughs as he brings his hand up in surrender, covering his face from your retaliation. You let out a frustrated noise, quickly turning the water off to face him. You push roughly at his chest, wetting his shirt and he grips the shower curtain with one hand for balance. He’s still fucking laughing.
“I got restless waiting for you. I was with Spinner, who wouldn’t stop yapping about some new video game. I saw Compress and he told me he saw you on your way up. I wanted to fuck with you.” He grins wolfishly, pretending to wipe a fake tear of amusement from his eye. The staples near the corner of his mouth tug at his skin.
You scowl, glaring at him playfully.
“You’re the biggest dick I’ve ever had the misfortune of meeting, ya know that?” you chastise him, unable to stop yourself from grinning widely at his relaxed demeanor.
Truthfully, you know nobody else sees this playful side of Dabi. The fact that you’re privy to it, it’s like knowing the world’s greatest secret. You want to put it in a box and keep it safe forever.
“Is that right? And yet, you’re the one who continues to stay with me, princess. I’ve just got you that cock drunk for me, don’t I sweetheart?” You blush violently at his teasing, but there’s absolutely no denying it.
Dabi smirks, taking the chance to let his gaze lazily trail up and down your wet, naked body. Slowly appreciating your form, and biting the tip of his tongue.
You wiggle your eyebrows playfully, popping your hip out, placing your hand there. It pulls an amused laugh from him and he winks at you. The sound of it sets your nerves alight.
Suddenly, you feel Dabi go stock still. The air raises a few degrees as his expression distorts into something feral, his happy mood vanishing.
Your stomach knots up and you shift your weight from foot to foot. You know he’s found the new, rather large, bruises peppering your left bicep. Delicately, he trails his fingers over them with his free hand. You wince.
The sickening scent of burning plastic starts to flood your nose. You glance over, panicking slightly when you see Dabi’s melting the shower curtain in a death grip.
“Touya!” You gasp. “I’m okay, really, I’m fine. Please, look at me baby,” you soothe, gripping his wrist to try and yank him free, but he doesn’t loosen his hold. You place your free hand on his cheek, forcing his manic gaze to meet yours. “It was my fault, I wasn’t paying attention,” you continue in a gentle voice, running your thumb over the scarred flesh under his left eye.
His snowy white eyebrows pinch together, and he lets out a pained sound, hesitantly letting go of the curtain. You swiftly take the opportunity to lace your fingers with his.
You take a peak at the curtain again, noticing a hand print has been permanently melted into it. Touya tugs on your hand harshly, asking for your attention.
He stares intensely at your face, pupils tracking back and forth rapidly, looking wild. When he speaks, it’s as if he’d swallowed a handful of gravel.
“Those goddamn idiots!” He snarls. “Sending you out, letting you get fucked up. If I fucking see that Doc again before Shigaraki wakes up, I’m incinerating him,” he manages to get out through clenched teeth. He’s furious, tone low and menacing.
It definitely does not turn you on.
Touya tangles his fingers through the wet hair at the nape of your neck, squeezing painfully. Your breath catches, scalp tingling.
A torrent of warmth rushes through you, pussy clenching eagerly around air.
It never fails to turn your brain to mush when he’s like this. Protective, possessive. It makes syrupy heat drip down your spine.
You shiver, not just from the chill of being naked, when you realize you’re still dripping wet. Unfortunately, you need a towel.
“I know Touya,” You laugh shakily , wanting to redirect his anger. “ I won’t stop you, promise. Let’s not allow those dumbasses to ruin our night, okay?” You squeeze his hand reassuringly. “I brought a surprise for us to share! So can you be a good boyfriend and please hand me a towel?” You plead, looking at him through your lashes.
Touya doesn’t move for a moment, narrowing his eyes slightly as considers your words, before his expression mellows out. He sighs heavily.
Touya releases his grip on your hair, trailing his rough fingers over your jaw and patting your cheek twice softly. He frees your other hand and turns to grab a towel from the cabinet.
You lift up your arms, very relieved, and wiggle your fingers happily as you wait. Touya sweetly wraps the cloth around your back and crosses it over your chest, tucking it into itself so it stays in place. You beam at him, letting your arms fall to hold it in place.
“Fine. You’ve convinced me not to commit murder tonight. Show me the surprise,” Touya concedes, catlike grin settling into his expression once again. You breathe another sigh of relief, stepping out of the shower. You balance with a hand on his arm.
“I got us joints! I figured some good weed would help us relax and,” you trail your finger over his jaw, biting your lip coyly. You lean in, whispering sensually to him. “I was hoping we could have some fun later, if you know what I mean.”
Standing up straight, you smile smugly, wrapping the towel tighter around yourself, watching his reaction. His head tilts back in delighted laughter.
“That’s the best idea you could’ve had. Let’s go get high out of our minds baby, and then I’ll fuck you into the mattress,” he purrs, grabbing the shirt you left to change into and tugging you along out of the bathroom.
You watch his lean frame from behind, admiring him as he walks. Your man is stupid hot, and you don’t just mean literally.
Once you’re near the bed the two of you release each other. He hands you your shirt and you let your towel unwind, tossing it to the side.
Touya’s hand comes out of nowhere to roughly smack your bare ass. The pain flares, making you yelp.
“Touya!” You scold. “Fuck off for a second will you?” you joke. “Let me at least put my shirt on.” You slip the clothing over your head as you speak, gathering your wet hair into a braid.
Touya snorts. You look at him with a raised brow as he’s taking his own clothes off. Your eyes linger for a moment on the V shape that disappears into his underwear. He winks at you in return when he catches your stare, but you just roll your eyes.
“Why are you even putting clothes on? You know I’m just going to get you naked later,” Touya complains as he crawls onto your shared bed. He leans his back against the headboard. Touya looks at you expectantly, patting the spot next to him as he shoves his long, pale legs under the blanket.
“Yes I know, but I still get cold sometimes, plus I like this shirt, it’s soft,” you reply, picking up the joints from your dresser, turning the overhead light off, and shimmying up the bed to him.
You make it a point to sit so your thigh and arm are squished against his as you recline next him. You use a pillow to support your lower back.
“You know I can keep you just as warm baby,” Touya coos, pulling up the soft fuzzy blanket that covers your bed so you can get your own legs underneath. He lets it rest at your waist.
Touya gently warms the space beneath and you swallow a moan. It feels amazing. Turning your head to look at him, you smile lazily. He wiggles his eyebrows as you hold up a joint to him, urging him to light it.
“I know, and later on you’re gonna make me sweat,” you tease, watching as he smirks.
He doesn’t even pay attention as he uses his finger to light the joint. A little blue flame that instantly eats the paper, setting it alight.
You kiss his cheek in thanks, selfishly taking the first drag. Fuck, it tastes like heaven. A twisted version of lemon flavor bursts across your tongue. It’s sweet, but also bitter.
You let the smoke swirl in your lungs while you hold your breath. Letting it out in a long exhale, the smoke ghosts across Touya’s face. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, groaning as he breathes out.
After a joint and a half in, you’re feeling the perfect level of high. You’re leaning your head on Touya’s shoulder, studying your fingertips.
You’re something akin to the warm butter that melts on top of pancakes. Your head feels fuzzy and you know Touya is in the clouds.
”Baby,” Touya softly calls for you, smooth like whiskey. His honeyed voice sends a shiver down your spine. Your head feels heavy when you lift it, looking at him with a dopey grin.
“Hmm?” you try to ask. Managing to giggle in response. He tilts his head down towards you. He’s wearing a matching lazy grin, his eyes half-lidded.
“Let me shot gun that pretty mouth,” he murmurs, taking the last large inhale from the joint. He holds his breath and puts out the joint on his palm, laying the roach on the bedside table.
You nod happily, stomach unbearably warm as you lean towards him. You let your mouth fall open obediently.
Touya looks sly, meeting you halfway. His different textured lips pressing to yours easily, slightly opened as he slowly pushes the smoke out of his lungs and into your mouth.
Your eyes flutter closed as the tendrils of smoke roll into your mouth. It makes you feel a bit feverish and everything feels like it’s rolling in slow motion.
You inhale equally as slow, taking your time, pulling it into your lungs. It makes you feel dizzy. You hold it for a moment, until your chest starts to burn and then you break from the kiss.
Turning your head minutely, you let it all out in one breath. Your tongue slips out to lick your lower lip, the aftertaste from the joint making your mouth water.
You slide your gaze to Touya’s. He brings his hand up, letting his fingers rest on your jaw as he runs a thumb over the lip you just licked. His eyes burn with a low heat, like embers.
“Feeling high princess?” he whispers, leaning a bit closer, lips only a couple centimeters from yours. He’s gentle, holding your jaw, fingers pressing in on both sides now.
Your eyes are lidded and it feels like his rich voice physically melts through your skin, into your veins. You admire how pretty his face is, feeling your pussy throb. You bite your lip and nod, tickling a hand over his collarbone. He shivers.
“So high,” you giggle and whisper your next sentence, as if you’re telling him a secret. “Will you fuck me now Touya?”
Touya’s fingers twitch before they slide down to wrap around your throat, squeezing lightly. The staples on his wrist scratch at your neck. He’s studying your face, letting his lips pull into a wicked grin as he inches forward, brushing his mouth against yours.
“With pleasure baby girl,” he rumbles, pressing the words into your lips. You moan into his mouth, kissing him slowly over and over.
You’re just starting to lick into his mouth when he puts pressure on your windpipe and you get the message, breaking the kiss with a whine.
He laughs softly as he releases your neck and you shift until you’re lying down flat on the bed, head resting on the pillow.
The change in position makes the room spin and you blink your eyes slowly. You’ve planted your feet on the bed, letting your legs fall open. Moving around makes your shirt rise up to your hips, slick pussy on display for Touya.
You’re vaguely aware of how wet you already are, and it’s too hot in the room, your face heats again and sweat trails down your temple.
The only light in the room is from the TV you had turned on absently. Yet, you can still see Touya’s chest. He has his own light sheen of sweat covering his skin, nipples stiff and perky.
The white haired man maneuvers to get in between your thighs. He sits back on his calves, palms resting on the tops of your knees as he takes a look at your soft pussy.
The sight makes his cock ache, straining to be free from his briefs. He feels his tip positively leaking, sticking to the soft material.
“C‘mere Touya,” you whine softly, reaching your arms out for him. His expression is relaxed, loving as he bends to your will, resting his forearms on either side of your head.
You wind your arms around his neck, pulling him down into another kiss. Your lips slide together eagerly, the heat between you blazing.
His bottom lip is rough but the texture makes you moan every time. He easily slips his tongue inside your mouth, rolling them together, and you bite the delicate muscle briefly.
A husky moan pushes past his lips, causing him to break the kiss.
“Goddammit baby, I wanna fuck you so bad,” he groans, voice wrecked as he sucks dark marks in a line up your neck, gripping the hem of your shirt.
“Please,” you beg, the word sticking to the roof of your mouth. Touya doesn’t hesitate, sitting back momentarily to free you of your shirt, throwing it somewhere behind him.
The air brings a slight chill, making your nipples harden. Goosebumps erupt along your chest and you whine. Touya rests his hands on your soft belly, dick jumping, drooling as he takes in your naked body. His large, warm palms cover most of the skin there, fingers splayed on your ribs.
His eyes are red and glossy as they trail over your tits, noticing your nipples are pretty little pebbles. God, he’s so hard he could cut diamonds.
He quickly shoves his underwear off, the urge to be naked swallowing him whole. His cock bobs free as it catches on the waistband of his briefs. You watch, catching sight of the curly white hair resting just above the base.
He settles again between your legs, gripping his shaft and squeezing briefly for some relief. His own touch feels electric and he moans through his teeth. He knows you’ll feel a thousand times better than his hand.
He’s quick to swipe his thumb between your pussy lips, parting them as he drags it up to your clit, starting to massage slow circles there.
You choke on an inhale, head feeling heavy. Your limbs feel like jello, warmth flowing through you. You hum, reaching out to wrap a hand around the silky smooth skin of his shaft. He lets out a broken moan when you pump his cock, letting his foreskin pull back.
“Touya, c’mon, pretty please? Don’t wanna wait,” you say with breathy sigh. You keep stroking his cock, twisting your wrist upwards and he groans again, sounding breathless.
“You don’t have to ask me twice baby, you know how much I love fucking you,” he purrs, looking exactly like the Cheshire Cat.
He places a hand on each of your inner thighs, spreading you open a little more. You tilt your hips up a little, so you can guide his thick cock inside of you. You tease yourself, sliding his tip over your swollen clit. You let out a low curse as it sends electricity up your spine.
A short whine slips through Touya’s lips as the head of his cock presses in smoothly. Removing your hand, you give him the reigns to do the rest as he stretches your pussy completely. You tilt your head back on the pillow as you start clenching around him.
“Oh,” you say as if you’ve been sucker punched. “Touya, you feel so good!” you cry out, thoughts disjointed. You tremble at the overwhelming pleasure, white knuckling the pillow under you.
You’re sure you could cum just from the stretch of his cock alone, your sensitivity at an all time high. You chance a look at your boyfriend, panting.
His eyebrows are scrunched and he’s gritting his teeth, eyes locked on where he’s disappeared inside you. Warm pussy wrapped around him perfectly.
“Shit,” he curses lowly. “You’re so fucking tight,” he laughs incredulously rocking his hips shallowly.
His own mind is fuzzy, body high so intense he could sob. You lay there and take it beautifully as he starts to fuck you for real, slow and deep.
Your limbs are like lead, and you’ve all but become one with the mattress, the pleasure all you can focus on. The sound of your skin smacking together makes your ears burn. You’re watching the way his fingers grip your thighs, the way the muscles in his lower abdomen flex with every thrust.
“You’re so fucking hot Touya, God - I can’t,” you all but sob. You can’t focus on anything else but the way his cock drags in and out of your pussy. Touya hums softly and leans forward, bracing his hands on the bed, caging you between. You look up at him through your lashes.
“What do you want baby? Hmm? Tell me,” he pants, voice smoldering. Your entire body flushes even hotter. Quirk raising up just below your skin and you keep your hands from the sheets for fear of turning them to ash.
Letting out a low moan, you grip his forearms, he can take the heat of your quirk. He sucks in a breath through his teeth when your scalding palms make contact with his skin.
You’re able to keep it under control for now. You take note of the way your tits bounce with each of his thrusts. He watches them, eyes almost unfocused, unfazed by the blistering heat of your palms, before his gaze locks with yours when you start to speak.
“Want you to fuck me from behind, please,” you mumble, words blending together as you try to keep your eyes open. The pleasure is making your brain feel thick.
“Fuck yes, turn that pretty ass around,” he agrees, leaning back and pulling his cock free. It bounces slightly and you notice he’s glistening from your slick, notching your arousal up by a few degrees.
You don’t waste a second, rolling over onto your belly. The sensation of moving underwater is what you would compare it to.
You raise up on your knees, showing off the curve of your spine as you rest your cheek on the mattress below. The sheets are soft, caressing your skin as you nuzzle against it, distractedly.
You’re gripping the sheets by your head when you feel Touya’s palm crack harshly against your ass,forcing you to jolt forward.
“Ah!” You whine into the sheets. He must’ve heated his hand, because you can feel your ass almost blistering from where he spanked you.
You assume that’s some sort of revenge from what you did to his forearms earlier. Not that it matters, the pain and pleasure mix together even better.
“Look at you, so obedient. You want me to fuck you like a dog, don’t you?” He teases, words sitting heavy on his tongue.
He grips the base of his cock and rubs the head between your lips, parting them easily.
You open your mouth to answer but you’re cut off. He’s already bullying his way back into you without abandon.
Touya grips your hips tight enough you worry he’s gripping the bone. His cock throbs, your pussy feels tighter this way.
It’s making his head spin, watching himself pull out, cock shiny and slick, before filling you once again. His heart thumps hard in his rib cage, thinking about just how much he fucking loves you.
“Oh god.” You shove your face into the mattress as Touya starts to move hard and fast. His cock filling you out perfectly with each thrust.
The friction is blistering, pleasure burning through your limbs. He presses his hands into your lower back, pushing the arch in your spine to its breaking point and he uses his weight to fuck you.
His cock bullies your sweet spot again and again, ripping muffled screams from your throat and into the mattress.
You’re starting to squirm under him, overly sensitive while he pushes you closer to your peak. You unconsciously try to crawl away from him, but he notices. You’ve started to fist the sheets again, for any kind of leverage.
“That’s the spot, isn’t baby? You’re so cute, trying to crawl away from me. You’re not fucking going anywhere. Be good, baby girl,” he demands, huffing lightly. He leans forward to brace one hand on the back of your neck, pinning you down.
He lets his other hand rest on the middle of your lower back, pressing down there too. How you’re able to keep your knees under you is beyond you. The first heavy thrust after that has you wailing, eyes stinging with tears.
“Fuck! Touya, right there, don’t stop,” you beg, feeling small underneath him. The pleasure is overwhelming. It’s not long at all before a knot starts to wind up taught in your lower abdomen, and you struggle to try and warn him.
“Go ahead princess, I’ve got you. Cum for me, I want to feel it,” Touya purrs, bending forward to brace one hand by your head. The other still pining you down by the back of the neck.
The staples adorning his wrist feel cold against your overheated flesh. Oddly enough, the difference in temperature is what pushes you over the edge.
You cum, brutally. Pussy fluttering, gripping Touya so tight you can’t believe he’s still sliding in and out of you. Heat gushes through you in waves, curling your toes.
“Oh!” you gasp, a pressure building in your bladder. “You’re gonna make me squirt,” you say in surprise. Fingernails bite into your skin, warm breath is against your ear.
“Then fucking do it baby,” he breathes, never slowing his pace. A thrill runs through you, fingers curling in the sheets.
Pleasure ripples through you as you squirt. Soaking the sheets and Touya’s inner thighs. Your mouth stays open in a silent scream.
Touya moans in your ear, whispering words of encouragement as he works you through it. You notice his cock start to twitch inside you as you come down from your high.
Touya murmurs sweet nothings against your ear, letting you know he’s about to cum.
You tell him just how much you want it, how much you need to him to fill you up—and he does just that. Pressing all the way in until his balls fit snugly against your pussy. 

Touya cums with a noise that sounds like it’s been punched from his chest. Panting as he nudges your knees out from you, so you both collapse to the mattress.
You both catch you breath for a moment, Touya letting himself go soft before he makes a move to pull out. 

Touya rolls off you gently, onto his back. You breathe a sigh of relief, turning your head to see if his face.
“Are you okay?” he asks, cheeks flushed from the strenuous movements.
“I’m great,” you laugh, poking his ribs. He chuckles, giving you a half smile. “Can you get me a towel? Seeing as it’s your fault I’m a mess now,” you tease. Touya rolls his eyes playfully.
You flip over onto your back as retreats to get a towel, returning swiftly.
”Thank you,” you hum, cleaning yourself the best you can, not bothering to put clothes back on as you get under the blankets.
You sigh happily, turning on your side as the bed dips. Touya settles down facing you, snaking an arm around your waist to tug you closer.
“I love you,” you whisper, trailing your fingers down the side of his face, stopping to press on one of his staples under his eye. 

“I love you,” he replies, just as softly.
”I’ll follow you to hell, you know that, right?” You say, raising an eyebrow. He sighs, leaning forward to brush a kiss over your forehead.
“I know. I’ll incinerate the world for you, you know that, right?” He teases, placing his forehead on yours. You laugh gently, nodding as you kiss him once more.
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eighthman-bound · 6 days
Text
Batman AU were an older Bruce is sent back to the body of a past version of himself, couple years prior to him returning to Gotham and becoming Batman.
He takes advantage of this advanced foreknowledge and makes a beeline back home to try recruit his enemies to join his crusade before they become supervillians.
“Edward you are a one in a million genius, I know your talents are being wasted and abused at this company, come join me in this crime prevention organisation I’m creating, I can give you the resources, respect and mental care you need for your creations. Oh the mental health thing, yeah that isn’t personal we do it for everyone don’t worry about it.”
“Selina Kyle come train our team your heist tactics and I will help you find evidence Carmine Falcone s your father.”
He flies to that prison in Santa Prisca to rescue the young man wrongfully imprisoned, to give the man who would be Bane hope and a just mission.
He gathers all the Doctors he can, Langstrom, Isley, Fries, Quinzell. Crane; I will give you the resources to continue your projects safely in return for your expertise when the need arrives… just for Gods sake don’t test anything on yourselves without my say so please!!
And Batman and Harvey Dent have never been closer.
With this new group and foreknowledge he can potentially take down big threats like the Court Of Owls. Ensure the Red Hood doesnt fall into that vat of acid.
He focuses his attention and takes down Tony Zucco long before the circus comes to town.
He takes in Jason Todd from the streets.
Makes sure his family live comfortably, even if in their eyes he’s just a stranger now.
Would all this intervention create a safer, less villian occupied Gotham? Or backfire in the worst way?
You decide.
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