#and i'm sure you can imagine how the rest of the story goes :)

[artekai]

AU where Artekai's werak is actually a pack of werewolves and Bartenak is the human baby they took in because he was lost

[lost-and-ephemeral]

helloooo, can i req cuddling with love and deepspace boys? :))

Imagine: Loving Embrace (ft. main trio)

Pairing: Xavier x reader, Zayne x reader, Rafayel x reader (seperate)

Tags: pure fluff

A/N: i'm still feeling pretty bad mentally because too many things happened and i'm no longer taking antidepressants, but this little cute request was hard to resist ♡ I decided to focus on different situations instead of writing simple hcs for cuddles

-`♡´- MASTERLIST -`♡´- 

Rafayel: Cuddles for Inspiration

"Come here, I can't find my inspiration without you."

At least that's what Rafayel always says when he can't find the right balance between painting and wanting to spend time with you. So why not combine both!

Yes, he's covered in paint and, yes, its smell completely soaked his clothes, but you never say no to him. How could anyone resist his cute pouty face when he's asking for something like this?

The moment Rafayel pulls you by the waist and sits you on his lap, be prepared to spend a very, very long time like this. Especially if he's really inspired by your closeness.

And he just can't let go of his muse in the middle of the creative process, right?

Rafayel holds you firmly but gently by your waist while his chin rests on your shoulder. His eyes are either closed as he thinks about something or focused on the canvas.

Sometimes his fingers draw invisible abstract shapes on your waist. He does it instinctively, without thinking. Or he plays with your own fingers while he draws details with his other hand.

"See? Without you, this painting wouldn't be complete."

Zayne: Cuddles for Productivity

"I need some cuddles to promote the production of oxytocin."

Zayne… Always remains Zayne, covering up his own desire to be closer to you with various medical terms and researches. It is cute in it's own way, actually.

He loves it when you hold him in your arms and he can completely relax for a while, resting his head on your chest and listening to your heartbeat. He'll definetely call it a way to check your heath too.

Zayne loves to cuddle before or after work most of the time, but he won't refuse to be there for you during his break at work.

He needs to find the energy to keep working, after all.

He probably prefers to keep quiet during yor cuddling session, but if you want to tell him something, go ahead, Zayne won't say a word against it.

In fact, he even enjoys hearing your stories. Just make sure they don't contain things about your work that might alarm him. Otherwise, he might go back into strict doctor mode. But it's still only because of his love and care for you.

"Have you heard that hugs or any other show of affection can have health benefits, including reducing fear, stress, and pain? So it is good for both of us."

Xavier: Cuddles for Sleep

"My internal battery is completely drained."

And with these words Xavier will make himself comfortable in your arms while you're lying on the couch or bed and scrolling on social media.

And that's not even a joke, he's actually completely exhausted after spending the last couple days on missions without proper rest. You know Xavier, he either works non-stop or goes into hibernation after that. It'll take some time to change his habits.

In this state, he's more like a big plush toy, and you can do whatever you want with him. But the best idea is to play with his hair. This action always relaxes him.

After all, only in your hands he can find such a desired comfort.

Xavier will tell you about how his last mission went while you cuddle. Well, he will try to do it before sleep finally consumes him. And you'll be able to hear perfectly how his voice grows quieter and quieter with each word.

He's so cute when he's sleepy, isn't he? You can even tell him that to get a quiet chuckle in return. Xavier doesn't mind your little teasing.

"It's so warm in your arms, I swear I… I can't stay awake anymore…"

[fuckmyskywalker]

i’ve been brewing this up for awhile.

anakin x nymph reader. very dubcon.

anakins been on a planet for awhile for a mission. on a day off he’s just taking a walk down a forest. he remembers reading tales about these forests when he was a young boy. then he spots a nymph woman. and the whole thing about nymphs is that they have no men in their species right? so anakin is calm and tried not to startle her, but the nymph comes over and starts touching him cause she’s never seen a man or the male anatomy before. this slowly leads to them making out for sure. anakin takes her back to the small cabin he’s staying at, and keeps her with them and makes love to her 🩷

🫧

18+. Smut. Nymph!Reader. Oral. Afab!reader | Fem!Reader.

This is such a beautiful, gorgeous idea I simply cannot leave it and not scream over it. I had to elaborate so much more about it, I am screaming. I skipped the cabin part because yes, mwah.

Obi-Wan constantly told him to not get close to the river because the locals said it was unexplored and unknown territory. But Anakin never listens. The deep dense forest is alluring, and he wants to know what's inside; growing up surrounded by sand, the lush views amaze Anakin, and he finds himself exploring deeper and deeper between the trees, reaching a nearby stream that leads to a tall, majestic waterfall.

He sees you from afar, and his eyes widen. He has never seen a nymph, only listened to local tales and other stories crossing the Galaxy... but seeing one up close is mesmerizing. He takes cautious steps, he doesn't want to startle you, but he can't control his curiosity. With a racing heart, every meter he erases between you and him gives him a tingly sensation. His eyes admire the flowers resting around your head, your gracious figure as you touch the water with your fingertips and the sheer dress that leaves little to imagination.

Stepping over a branch that breaks under his weight, your eyes snap up and squint, wondering from where the noise came from. You stand up, taking a few steps back, causing Anakin to sprint forward and approach you. His abrupt movements scare you, and his heart leaps inside his chest when he sees the fear in your eyes.

"Wait!" He exclaims, stepping inside the low stream, standing across you. His deep voice catches your ear, making your hands twitch. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

You stop, looking over your shoulder as a flower falls from your hair, landing on the water. Anakin takes cautious steps, picking it up and handing it to you before the water drags it away. He recognizes it as a lotus. A beat goes by, two figures only surrounded by the nature and the crude curiosity flowing between you; two creatures that had never interacted before. You tilt your head, watching his outstretched hand and doubting. How can you know it is safe? The other nymphs had warned you about these creatures... humans, they call them. Men.

"Who are you?" You ask, and Anakin could only compare your voice to the sweet sound of the cascade and wildlife surrounding him. It's pure and it holds a raw, mystic air.

He takes another step closer, smiling softly when you don't run away. "Anakin," He replies, lifting his arm higher, offering you the pink lotus. "Anakin Skywalker."

Hesitant, you approach. At arms length, you reach for the flower and a shiver runs down his spine when your fingertips brush against his palm. Tangling it in your hair once again, you stay still. He is different. He is... unique. His strong, chiseled figures are different from your soft ones. Anakin can tell you are curious. He stays still as you join him in the small river, circling around him and admiring him. You watch his heavy clothing, layer after layer of cotton and leather, and you see the lightsaber hanging from his belt.

"A Jedi?"

"You know who I am?"

You shake your head, brushing a strand of hair away from your forehead. "I don't, but I've heard tales about your... kind. With those bright sticks."

Anakin chuckles, and you wonder if it's a sound of joy or pain. Humans can be so volatile. "It's not a bright stick, it's a lightsaber. It's heat."

"Oh..." You mumble. You have seen humans before, but never one this close. His interactions are weird, or so you think. Face to face, you mimic a gesture you have seen travelers done before. Offering your hand, Anakin smiles. Humans are so strange! Always keeping their distance and talking behind each others' backs. You speak your name, and he nods... Your name sounds straight out from a fairy tale and it's something he'll never forget. "How do you humans say?... Oh! Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too," Anakin's eyes narrow as he chuckles, shaking your hand with his flesh one. "You are... beautiful."

You giggle. Humans always think those different than them are worth of a praise. "You are weird," He laughs, and you frown at his laugh again. Letting go of his hand, you touch his face, startling him. "What's this?" Your thumb traces his scar, leaning closer to inspect it further. "Does it hurt?"

"It doesn't," He replies, melting at your touch. "It's a battle scar, you know?" You don't but you nod.

Anakin follows you to the edge of the stream, sitting over a large rock and watching your every move. From all the orders he had disobeyed from Obi-Wan... this one has to be the best. He lets you touch him, he feels the need to satiate your doubts, and there's a comforting feeling under the touch of your hand over his face, his hair and his hands. Leaning closer, you nuzzle against his neck. He even smells different. It is a strong, masculine musk. Like curated leather and sandalwood. He smells like a thousand untold battles and... danger.

"You are pretty too— in your own way," Your index finger traces the curve of his lips, and his throat goes dry. "I have never touched a human before."

His words fail him, the proximity engulfs him and he inches closer. "Yeah?" He is breathless, thoughts spinning and world shaking. Tentatively, he places a hand on your waist, guiding you closer. His body presses against yours, merging your curves and his broad figure. "Can I kiss you?"

"Why?"

"I don't know," Anakin confesses, breathing out. His lips touch yours and you can only compare it to the touch of a butterfly on your skin. "I just really want to kiss you."

The kiss was new, and you weren't sure what to do at first so Anakin guided you. His chapped lips were like soft rose petals, merging with your own. It didn't took long for the kiss to escalate, growing heated and heavier. His hands roamed your figure, tracing every curve and melting the silk fabric of your dress. A man's touch was foreign but welcomed, a strange sensation flowing through your veins. This touch was firm yet surprisingly gentle... but demanding. You have heard countless stories of mankind's greed, and little did you know you were about to experience it first-hand.

Lifting your dress, he brushes your thighs, igniting a new sensation. A soft gasp escapes your lips, wondering if all humans are so handsy. Anakin is struggling to stop himself, thumbs circling your inner thighs to spread them further. There's lust dripping from his body and you can sense it. Lust is a dangerous emotion, even the strongest man had fallen because of it.

Being touched by a man is different from being touched by a woman. Anakin was impatient and eager, tracing your folds with his index and middle finger. He circles your clit, eliciting a quiet moan. Is he so rushed? You don't know. Laying down on the large rock, you arch your back, enjoying his attention. Anakin is rapt in your body and sounds, cock straining against his robes.

"You are perfect," He sighs, kneeling at the edge to nestle his face between your thighs. He buries his face in your heavenly core, closing his eyes and breathing in. There is something earthly and ethereal in your scent, like fresh rain and clear water, mixed with a floral perfume that makes his soul boil. His hot breath makes you giggle as his tongue teases your soaked pussy. "You are... like a goddess."

Your hands trace your sides, touching your chest as this insatiable human ravishes you, licking and lapping at your wetness. His manly groans spur waves of desire, warm tongue sliding in and out. His blue irises fixate on you, admiring how you contort and succumb to the s sensuality hat threatens to make him lose his control.

Anakin sucks your swollen clit, groaning at the responsive mewls and sighs. Maybe it is all a dream, maybe he is laying under the waterfall after he fell and is bleeding out from hitting a rock... and if that's true, then he would die happily with this vision. His hands grip your thighs harder digging the supple flesh. Your moans grow in intensity as he sucks harder, drowned in your essence.

He had heard his name many times, screamed in battle, in briefings, being cursed and dammed... but listening to you say it, prey of the uncanny desire is surreal. Anakin's cock throbs, restless to be inside you. He knows you had never had a man claim you— and he wants to be the first one.

With your thighs closing around his head, you climax with a gorgeous moan, getting lost in the nature around you, mixing with the lullaby of the forest and engraving this memory with water and blood in his heart. Anakin's cheeks are red from pressure and need, but he doesn't stop, decided to continue teaching you the arts of pleasure, a different form of profession corrupted by humans.

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, the leather glistening with a combination of your slick and his saliva. You are glowing, calling him like a mermaid, almost begging for him to finish the job he started.

"Is that how men pleasure their women?" You ask breathlessly, lifting your eyes, watching the butterflies and birds fly through the dense foliage. Being so connected with nature had never felt so good.

"Mostly," He chuckles, climbing back onto the rock and hovering over you. "But there's more... so much more."

[channelinglament]

Sksjdjjkskskskskksk

I know I should be focusing more on reqs, but I had to take this off my mind skskksskks (btw I'm rn in the underground belobog part of story) (I kinda called it SAHSR as in self aware hsr)

☆•°Self-Aware Honkai Star Rail°•☆

Tw: no proofread, mentioned drowning(but it didn't happen), war, hate, religious themes, self awareness, kinda ooc, grammar mistakes because I am typing this at 12AM instead of sleeping, isolation

So, you know how in the beginning we play as Kafka? Yeah, I'm pretty sure she felt your presence. At first she was kinda weirded out, and was on guard. Who knows what you would do to her, while controlling her?

Oh look, you're helping her.. Hmm, maybe you aren't that bad after all. Still on guard, but thankful. With you she seems to fight more faster and is more efficient.

Same goes with Silver Wolf. They don't seem to mind your presence that much.

You even helped them to pick a trailblazer! But after picking them, you left Kafka and Silver Wolf. They didn't really mind it. They have been doing good without you, so it should be fine!

Meanwhile, the trailblazer is confused. First, they don't remember anything except their own name(or the name you gave them), then Kafka leaves and someone is watching over them. Oh how confusing and strange. But they caught early on that you're helping them. You're not an enemy.

During their "adventures" trailblazer starts thinking of you as a family. Kinda annoying since you control their body most the time (unless it's a cutscene) but you're cool nonetheless. They see you as a safespace.

Meanwhile March 7th and Dan Heng don't understand what is happening. Who is controlling them? Why after they met trailblazer? Why are you controlling them?

I think March would, just like the trailblazer, like you and find you annoying at the same time. Dan Heng would stay on guard (but also see you as safe space/nice person to hang with). Not as much on guard as when you first...met but still. It'll take him time to get off guard. The more time you spend with them, the more familiar they are with you, the more they like you.

Why annoyed, you may ask? Well, imagine you want to.. for example fight, but someone controls your movement and does it instead of you. Or goes the other way (aka exploring) instead of the path you've originally chosen.

They certainly would like when you make them stronger. No matter who is on your team, they'll like it (I mean, who wouldn't?)

But.. sometimes, even if they like you, they get tired of always being on the team. Thank you, yes, but they need to rest too. They mostly rest when you're offline, since..time kinda stops there. But when you're online? damnnn they walk and fight so much.. (I fr walk everywhere to find enemies to fight, so uhh, if you're like me, they would be tired and maybe annoyed at it)

I think some characters would even hate you. It doesn't apply to the main trio btw, they'll always like you. The reason some may hate you is that they have so much stuff to do, yet you choose them to walk around and fight all day. They're even supposed to be here! (For example, using Herta when fighting someone in Belobog)

If they could, they would scold you. But sadly game doesn't allow that.

It only appears in normal, self aware circumstances. Aka a normal self aware. Some like you, some hate you. You just kinda exist. (That one strange friend/sibling, y'know?)

But what if they would see you as a God? Something divine? Like in SAGAU?

Well, you're doomed, what can I say?

Everyone would want to be in your team. Oh, poor Gacha system.

They would hate it tbh. While in just self aware some would avoid you on purpose (aka busy characters), here? Where everyone sees you as a divine being? Oh dear..

Imagine several people trying to come through a single door, all at the same time? Yeahhh that's what happens. The standard and limited banner would literally fist fight while trying to get "home" to you. So don't be surprised if nobody comes home, at all.

But some may cooperate, and you may get more 5☆ or 4☆! Basically characters you wanted.

Those on your team would be proud! Mostly if the main trio are still there. Some would be envious of trailblazer. You're always with them, even if they're not on your team.(how could you?!)

Kafka and Silverwofl would be devastated. I'm pretty sure Silverwolf could possibly destroy the gacha system and come home. Only her (and maybe Kafka)

People in Belobog would hate the lore and everything game makes them do what they do. They're so happy they met you! You're here to save them! They don't want to fight you, so please don't be mad at them.

Honestly, if you were to get isekai'ed into hsr, I would recommend to the normal au.

The ones who hate you would just tell you off and never interact again, while your family/friends would hang out with you. Plus you could help a lot in Astral Express!

Maybe get Himeko and Mr.Yang some tea? Or help Pom Pom with whatever he needs?

If you get into the Worshipping Lunatics au..? I feel sorry for you.. You would never rest-

Whether you choose to stay at Astrak Express, or Herta's *I forgot the name* or whatever, they are all ready to wage war against each other. And if you decided to stay somewhere, that means you clearly favor them and their place more! Those who were chosen are happy/smug. While other try to improve their place/copy the place you've chosen to make you reconsider and stay with them.

The amount of gifts.. try to not drown okay?

They might even all agree to keep you in one place. Lock you in there and hope you won't be mad at them.

That's all for now

(Gotta work on reqs now or in the morning, they're still open btw)

[watermelonlovershigh]

Friends Who Share Mutual Emotions {part 3.} (housemate!harry series)

Arguments and Confessions {part 2.} (housemate!harry series)

AN: i've been in a writing mood lately so i hope you enjoy me spitting out these stories left and right lol. anyways, here is part 3 to my housemate series. before you ask, yes there will be a part 4 and hopefully a couple more after that. let me know how you liked it and make sure to leave your feedback. thank you and enjoy!

This story contains: mentions of one-night stands, confessions of feelings, slight angst, fluff

{ housemate!harry - friendrry - soft!harry - au harry }

word count- 1,372

Harry confesses that you're the women he likes and after giving you some time to think, you have an eventful conversation about your mutual feelings and how you'd like to move forward within your friendship.

Looking deeply in your eyes, Harry answers clearly, "Her name..... her name is Y/n." The weight of his confession leaves you standing in the kitchen, completely shocked. When you initially asked him about his love interest, you never anticipated that he would reveal his feelings for you. Although he described some of your qualities, you didn't think much of it, as many people can possess similar traits.

Realizing that you need some time to process his words, Harry rises from his stool and states, "I don't expect you to feel the same way about me or anything. I'll give you some space to think, alright?" With that, he turns around and retreats back to his bedroom.

Now standing alone in the kitchen, you find yourself torn about what to do. On one hand, the man who kindly allowed you to stay in his home as a housemate, who eventually became your friend, and whom you've developed feelings for, has just confessed his affection for you. It seems like the ideal outcome, but what if something goes wrong? You would risk losing your best friend and a place to live.

On the other hand, if everything goes well, you could finally experience a fulfilling relationship. You could put an end to the casual encounters and truly understand the intimacy that others have experienced in Harry's bed. You would have the opportunity to feel his touch on your skin and savor his kisses, something you had only imagined during fleeting encounters with strangers.

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

You head to Harry's bedroom and upon reaching his door, you give it a hesitant knock. A soft voice responds with, "Come in." and you take that as your signal to enter. Inside, you find him sitting up in bed with his cat Pixie beside him, and the TV showing old episodes of Friends.

Approaching his bed slowly, Harry gestures for you to sit beside him. After a deep breath, you confess, "I want you to know that I have feelings for you too, Harry. How could I not? You're kind and sweet, and anyone would be foolish not to have a crush on you. But, I'm afraid."

Harry turns off the TV to focus on you. "Afraid of what, Y/n?" he asks, "We both like each other. What's there to fear?"

"It's not that simple, Harry," you respond with a hint of frustration. Why can't he see your concerns? Maybe it's a gender difference. Men don't worry about relationships as much as women do. Well at least from your personal experiences.

"Can you explain then, please? I want to understand your fears so we can move forward in a way that works for both of us."

Shifting uncomfortably on the bed, you express, "Harry, what if things don't work out between us? What happens then? I could lose a friend and I might not have enough money to cover regular rent in London."

"Y/n, our mutual feelings don't automatically require us to rush into a romantic relationship. We can proceed at a comfortable pace, one day at a time. Even if we don't progress beyond friendship, I value our bond too much to risk losin' it. As for your concern about losin' a place to stay, rest assure that I would never evict you if things don't work out romantically. You were my housemate first and foremost, and that won't change. Well, unless you want to move out someday that is."

Hearing his words have made your eyes gloss over. You can hear the sincerity in his voice and it makes your heart swell. But, you still need some clarification to move forward. "So like, where do we go from here, Harry? I don't want to think we're one thing but you assume we're something else. I don't want to constantly be questioning where we stand. What's too much or what's not enough."

Harry adjusts his posture, leaning closer to you. He carefully reaches out for your hands and clasps them within his larger grasp, holding them gently as he begins to speak. "As I mentioned earlier, Y/n, we can take this slow. Let our connection develop naturally. At this moment, I would describe our relationship as friends, but friends who share mutual emotions. And in response to a question I know you may have, no, I will not be sleepin' with anyone else. And I don't expect..."

Anticipating his next words, you swiftly interject, "No, neither am I. I mean, being involved with someone else intimately. I can promise you that. Besides, I never truly enjoyed having one-night stands. I only sought them out as a means to conceal my feelings for you. But now that my feelings are out in the open, there's no reason to hide them any longer. From now on I only want you."

Chuckling in relief, Harry murmurs, "Just me, huh?" He was incredibly anxious that you might still have the desire to sleep with other people, even though that didn't make much sense after you had confessed your feelings for him. However, he couldn't be entirely certain.

You lean forward, wrapping your arms around Harry's body, embracing him tightly. "Of course, Harry. I would never do that to you. Besides, most of the men I slept with were unsatisfactory, so I'm perfectly fine with giving up my one-night stands."

Harry reciprocates the embrace, then teasingly asks, "Unsatisfactory? Are you tellin' me those muscular, macho men you brought home hardly ever satisfied you?"

You respond, your voice filled with affection against his neck, "That's right. And when they did, it was usually because I was thinking of you."

"Alright, let's end that conversation right here or we'll have a problem on our hands and break our 'takin' it slow' rule." Harry remarks, trying to maintain a sense of caution. If you kept talking about how you always thought of him while having sex with all those strangers, he'd get hard in his pants and he doesn't want to make you uncomfortable right now. Nor does he want to move that fast. Like he said, he genuinely would like to take whatever you are, slow.

You laugh at his words and playfully say, "Can we take a nap? I'm feeling tired. Didn't get much sleep last night."

Harry nods in the embrace you still hold and replies, "Yeah, we can take a nap if you'd like. I didn't get much sleep last night either."

As you sit up, you carefully shift towards Harry's side where he's preparing a space for you to rest. "Seriously?" you inquire. Although you noticed his exhaustion when he entered the kitchen earlier, you didn't consider that it might be due to a lack of sleep.

"Yeah," Harry begins to coo while helping you under his duvet, "felt awful with how I spoke to you last night. The guilt ate me alive and I couldn't sleep."

Now laying side by side, facing each other, you whisper out, "Awe, well you can rest easy now. I forgive you." As your eyes flutter shut, Harry can't help but think about how you're too far away from him. Even though you're literally just six inches apart in reality.

So without thinking, he draws himself closer to you and wraps you in his arms. Which in turn has you pressed up against his clothed chest. "Is this alright?" Harry whispers quietly. Although he wishes to take things slowly, cuddling is typically considered a leisurely activity, isn't it? It remains innocent and platonic.

"Yes, very much alright." you reply and soon after fall asleep. The musky smell Harry produces along with the warmth of his body lulls you right to sleep. It may be only nine in the morning but with your lack of sleep the night before, have no trouble falling unconscious.

Harry also falls into a deep slumber. The comfort of having you in his arms lulls him into a state of relaxation, leading him to quickly doze off. His cat Pixie has now settled at the foot of the bed, peacefully asleep alongside you both. Harry's once anxious room is now filled with tranquility. The unfolding of your friendship will become more apparent when you wake up later today.

(PLEASE REBLOG BECAUSE WRITING IS NOT EASY AND IT'S FREE SO JUST DO IT)

(no more tags are allowed because i've hit my number limit. sorry : ( )

tag list: @one-sweet-gubler // @harryscherrysugar // @hsfanficsrecss // @lollypopsx // @harrycanyonmoonn // @allthelovehes // @damnasstyles  // @mrsstylesharry // @softmullet  // @meetmyblondemuffins  // @thegirlnextdoorssister // @stanleystyles  // @haarrrys // @michellekstyles  // @skyangel57   // @the-gardener-31 // @lhharrylilpumpkin // @yousunshine-youtemptress // @clairestylessss  // @kissmyaxe140  // @goldenmelonsugar-hi // @kaitieskidmore97 // @florencepughily  // @alienorknight //@dancearoundthelivingroom  // @swiftmendeshoran

 // @luv-flor7777  // @alohastyles-x // @tenaciousperfectionunknown  // @sleutherclaw // @siredtohybrid // @whoscamila // @a-strange-familiar  // @golden-elodie // @mrspeacem1nusone //  @goldenkhae // @lntwithhrry  // @shadowygladiatorlight  // @manifestrry  //@mendesblurb // @sunshinemoonsposts  // @depersonalizationsucks // @academiaghost // @zendayassimp // @reveriehs // @vsnnstuff // @dancinsunflowerkiwi // @quinnsgrapejuice // @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite // @justlemmeholdyou // @hsonlyangelxo // @luvonstyles // @howdey

______________

My Masterlist Masterpost

A Shift Occurs {part 4.} (housemate!harry series) (SMUT)

[dingochef]

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x You (OFC-Elsa Matthews)

Warnings: Swearing, Smut (MDNI 18+ Only), Unprotected P in V, oral (male receiving), power dynamics, size kink, creampie, deep throating, mild arguing, kink discovery, consensual use of degrading names (slut, whore, etc)

Summary: Jake and you discover a new mutual interest in the bedroom, all because you talked to a random guy named Darren at the bar.

Masterlist

Word Count: 4.1k

Fun Size

"El, you had to keep pushing? Didn't you?" Jake spits, angrily hanging up his jacket by the door.

"I have no idea what you're talking about,” you sigh, taking off your heels.

"Oh, I think you do. You were flirting with that giant meat head fuck,” he says, brushing past you briskly towards the kitchen. You follow and take down two glasses for water, filling them and handing one to Jake as you respond,

"Hardly Jake, I was talking to him, not flirting. You were playing pool and I was bored. He seemed nice."

"He grabbed your ass. Your ass, El!” he shouts, setting the glass down heavily.

"And I shut it down. You saw that,” you answer back, your voice raising in exasperation,

“He's got two very sore balls to think about now.”

Jake runs his hand through his hair as he sighs loudly.

"He wanted to fuck you!"

"And I don't want to fuck him. End of story. What's really going on here, Jake? Since when do you get jealous? Have I done something to make you doubt me?" you ask, making sure to soften your voice.

"No, no, I trust you completely,” he pauses,

“I don't know, El,” he says quietly. He leans, placing both hands on the counter and looks down towards the floor.

“Just seeing that fucking giant next to you, leering at you, it did something. It fucked with my brain, okay?" he answers, turning away from you. You reach out and place a gentle hand on his shoulder and turn him towards you. He goes easily and pulls you into his arms.

"Jake, babe, talk to me. What's going on?”

He leans down and tucks his head in your neck.

"It's weird and I'm not sure I want to talk about it," he sighs.

You turn your head to kiss his temple as you wrap your arms around his waist.

"If you don't want to talk about it, that's fine, Jake, but you can't be mad at me for something I don't know about. Hmm, okay?"

"I know, El," his voice goes quiet,

"I just got the image of him fucking you and something about it made me hard. You're just so tiny and he was so…..big, like a fucking giant."

“Okay,” you hum back, your lips on his temple, your hands rubbing soothing circles on his back, encouraging him to keep talking.

"I could imagine him just throwing you around, using you anyway he wanted….like some fuck toy. I don't know why but it turned me on. And I'm not sure I'm okay with that."

"Do you want to do that to me, Jake?” His breath stills, and you know you're getting closer to the truth.

“You're the same height as him, and in way fucking better shape.”

He rewards you a soft laugh, the tension in his shoulders easing.

"Want to use me?" Your hands start to wander lower down his chest and abs to drag a fingernail along the zipper of his jeans.

"Manhandle me right where you want it? Put my little cunt where ever or however you want to fuck it?"

"Fuck, El, you can't just say stuff like that,” he pants into your neck.

“Does it turn you on? Think about it, just how much bigger you are, how big your cock is in my pussy. How it took some time before I could take it all. You can just lift me up and fuck me anywhere."

He groans, this time more aroused than embarrassed.

“You're not some object to fuck because I think it's hot, El–,”

You interrupt, one finger on his lips,

“What if I want you to? Hold me up while you fuck me hard?”

He groans as you slide your hands down his arms to grab one of his hands.

“You're so much bigger than me,” you say as you align your much smaller hand in his, palm to palm, the difference blatant as he curls the ends of his fingers over yours. You guide his hand down your shoulder and bring it to rest on your throat. Threading his fingers around your neck, you talk into the space between you,

“I love that about you, how much bigger, stronger you are,” your other hand travels down and slides down the front of his jeans to cup his now hard cock,

“I feel safe, protected, loved when you're all wrapped around me.”

He bucks into your hand, seeking more. Jake's eyes are closed and his face still looks conflicted.

“But the idea that you can just throw me around, dominate me, take me in any way you want makes me very, very wet. You want to see?” you ask, and he nods. Taking his other hand, you slide it under your skirt and between your thighs. Jake's deft fingers push your underwear to the side and glide down your dripping slit.

“Fuck, El,” he groans, eyes snapping open as he slides his fingers further into you,

“You want this, don't you?”

“Yes, fuck me hard, use me,” you cry out bucking your hips down to get more of his fingers inside you.

“You want me to fuck you hard like the little slut you are?” he asks, and you moan and clench around his fingers at the thought. Jake chuckles, low and dark, and the look on his face fades from apprehension to lust,

“You do want it, what a little whore. Gonna let me take you anyway I want, put my big cock in that little pussy while I hold you up like some fuck toy?”

“Fuck, Jake,” you moan, fucking yourself on his fingers seeking more.

“You're gonna need to say it, baby. Ask me nicely, to use your little pussy how I see fit. Fuck you hard with my big cock.”

“Yes, yes, Jake! Fuck me with your giant cock. Use my little pussy, please, please!” you shout, getting desperate now. With that enthusiastic response Jake pulls his fingers from you, earning a dissatisfied whine from you, he laughs at your frantic state.

“Don't worry, baby. I'll take care of you,” he says, unzipping his jeans and taking off his shirt.

“On your knees, slut,’ he commands, low and steady.

You sink to your knees, a welcome relief for how wobbly your legs have become in this buildup. Power in your relationship has always been a baton you and Jake passed back and forth easily, both of you taking care of each other's wants and desires. The words are harsh coming out of Jake's mouth, but he knows that with your intense job that the opportunity to step out of that realm of control into this one, is welcomed and relished by you. Your absolute trust in Jake allows you to fully submerge into the fantasy and let go.

The cool tile is soothing on your overheated skin. Jake pushes his jeans and boxer briefs down, his cock finally released in all its glory.

Automatically you lean forward with your hands reaching out to grasp him.

He takes a step back out of your reach and you whine.

“Don't worry, you'll get my cock soon enough. Strip, leave that slutty little thong on for now. I want to see it on your ass as you blow me.”

With lightning speed you strip, breathless with anticipation, very happy with how the night is going.

Jake steps back to you and strokes your face gently.

“Use your colors, tonight, okay, El?” he says seriously, his face full of concern.

“Yes, sir,” you respond, keeping eye contact. He grunts at the honorific,

“Green, very green,” you answer back, voice breathy in anticipation.

“Good, now show me how well you can suck my cock,” he growls as he slides his thumb across your bottom lip.

You lean forward and take his cock in your hands, stacking them on top of each other to cover the whole length. Even then there's still a sizable amount left to slip into your mouth.

Jake hisses as your warm mouth slides over the head of cock. You swirl your tongue around the tip and slide in more of his cock till your mouth is stuffed. Your rhythm of sucking and sliding lasts a few more repetitions till you pull off and tongue down his entire length. Your tongue dances across each pulsing vein until you reach the base, where the neatly trimmed hairs tickle at your lips. You give a soft kiss to each of Jake's balls before you lay his cock across your face. The length of it nearly reaches your hairline from your chin.

Blown out green eyes look down from above. Before Jake can say anything you start talking and running your hands along his length, rubbing the velvet soft skin all over your face,

“Look how big your cock is, Jake. It's amazing I can fit it anywhere in me. It should split me in half, instead I get the best sex of my life. I love it and you so much.”

You place a sweet kiss on the tip to emphasize your point.

Jake reacts more in grunts and the urge to continue rutting his dick along your face but you have other plans. You run your, now undoubtedly, smeared red lipstick adorned lips along him and line his cock up to your mouth, just the head dipping in. You take a deep breath knowing what comes next, and without any warning you swallow Jake to the root. You lack a discernible gag reflex; a lucky find a few months ago one tipsy night after the Hard Deck and something Jake has thoroughly enjoyed. Above you a surprised moan erupts out of Jake as he realizes what you are doing to him. Jake's cock surges through your mouth as your lips get closer to the base. His cock slips past the back of your throat. When the hair at the base tickles against your nose, you grab Jake's hand and place it on your bulged out throat.

“Fuck, El,” he groans out above you, a light thrust from his hips pushing it deeper.

“You're choking on my cock, you gotta have it all, don't you, dirty girl?”

The filthy words go straight to your now pulsing core and you moan in response.

“You like it, don't you?” he asks, still caressing your throat wrapped around his cock. You nod as much as you can in your position and he huffs out a small laugh,

“My little slut.”

You moan as much as you can as your deep breath from before runs out and you tap Jake on the leg twice and he slowly pulls out of your mouth, watching as you pull in big gulps of air. Your chest heaves as Jake’s face softens and he holds your cheek in his hand.

“Color, El?”

“Green,” you reply quickly. A devious smile forms on Jake's face, as he reaches down to grab your hand where it is resting on his thigh and pulls you up to a standing position. He kisses you hard, his tongue in your mouth seeking any last tastes of his precum. His hands are on the globes of your ass, kneading hard as he walks to you back to the wall of your living room. The cool plaster of the wall startles you and Jake, lightning fast, catches the back of your head in his big palm before you bump against the wall. He pulls his other hand down quickly and rips apart the flimsy fabric of your thong, the tearing sound causing you to clench around nothing. The expression on your face must give you away, because Jake chuckles lowly,

“So desperate for it, aren't you, El?”

His intense green eyes focused on yours along with that signature smirk.

“Need you, Jake,” you pant.

Jake thumbs at your lower lip before kissing you hard, mashing you between his insistent lips and his palm on the back of your head. Your hands are scrabbling along his back, trying to find an anchor before you get swept away in the feeling.

He pulls back from the kiss and silently offers you his index and middle finger at your lips. Much like you take his cock, you eagerly get his fingers wet for what you hope comes next.

“Good girl,” he coos, withdrawing his fingers. They slide down your body to part your soaked folds, a ghost of a touch on your clit before he slides one into your dripping slit.

“Fuck, Jake,” you groan, your head tipping back against the wall as he pushes into you easily.

“So wet, so needy, El,” he teases, scraping his light stubble down your exposed throat,

“As much as you want it, sweetheart, got to get you ready for me.”

You tense around his finger and whine at the thought of him, of his cock inside you.

Smirking lips are felt against your throat, and he slides another finger in a light stretch pulling a moan from you.

Pumping his fingers slowly inside you, he grips your hip tightly as your legs start to buckle under you. Jake works his lips back up your neck, across your jaw, and to your ear.

“You ready for me, ready for this cock?” he rasps against your ear.

“Yes, Jake,” you nearly sob, as you reply eagerly.

Jake withdraws his fingers, leaving you empty and needy. Before you can say anything, Jake has slid his hands under your thighs and pins you against the wall, his strong thighs and hands supporting your weight.

Your legs are splayed out, your dripping core on full display for Jake. He stares hungrily at you and lowers you the slightest amount to tease you with the head of his cock. The hot tip against your clit is a temporary relief from the need for release clawing inside you. You squirm trying to get more, more of him.

He looks down at you with an amused look, and says,

“So desperate, El. You want this cock? You gonna take it all, baby?”

“Yes, It's so big, I don't know if it's gonna fit?” you question, playing into the fantasy. A flicker of heat flashes across Jake's eyes and he says lowly, still teasing you with his searing hot tip along your clit and folds,

“This little tight pussy is going to take every god damn inch and you're going to beg me for it.”

You try to move in response, trying in vain to get Jake inside you, your level of desperation building.

“Please, sir, give me your cock, I want it–,” you gasp as Jake thrusts into you, finally,

“Fuck, I need you!”

He bottoms out as he fully lowers you, impaling you fully on his length. Your head rolls back, and Jake latches onto your neck with his mouth, brutally sucking the soft skin. Each time he lifts you and thrusts up into you, he somehow goes impossibly deeper. The feeling of fullness and absolute pleasure floods your brain and pushes any other thought than that of Jake out of your brain.

“Fuck so good, El,” he grunts into your neck, he pulls his head back. His hand cupping your chin and guiding it down so you are staring into his eyes as he fucks you with a steady rhythm.

“Thank me for this cock,” he commands. Your walls tighten around him with this display of dominance. He slows his hips as you try to form the words, his eyebrows raised in question. Your desperation builds and you frantically shout,

“Thank you for your cock, sir! Thank you.”

“Atta girl,” he replies.

Fully seated inside you, he pulls away from the wall, and you cling to him with your arms wrapped around his neck and legs hooked around his hips. Jake walks effortlessly through the house, all while bouncing you up and down his cock. His hands firmly on your ass as he fucks you up and down on his cock. He's in control of it all, you're merely along for the ride.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Jake grunts stepping into the bathroom. He stands side profile to the mirror.

“Look at us, El,” he commands you, and you turn your head from where it's tucked into his neck to stare into the vanity mirror.

You're treated to the sight of Jake's tall profile, muscles rippling as he draws you up and down on his length, a light sheen of sweat coating both of you.

“Watch yourself get fucked,” he growls, increasing his speed.

“Fuck, Jake,” you gasp, the sensations building as Jake pummels your cervix.

“Is this what you saw when you thought about me getting fucked by that giant at the bar?” you ask, breathy.

You can't help poking the bear, wanting to see how he reacts.

“This is better,” he grunts and pulls you off of him, earning a discontented noise from you. Jake places you down on now wobbly legs. As you find bearings, he turns you around so you're facing the mirror, your back to his chest. He pulls you close, a hand snaking up your neck to pull you in for a kiss that feels oddly sweet at the moment. The honey sweet moment only lasts a few seconds before Jake breaks the kiss and turns your head towards the mirror. He stands up his full height behind, the top of your head well below his chin.

Jake's hands come down to cup your breasts, your entire chest covered by his large hands.

“Look at us, El,” he purrs into your ear, massaging your breasts and grinding his hard on into your ass as he hooks his chin over your shoulder.

“I love the way I can completely wrap you up in my arms,” one hand slides lower and the other comes up to your neck. You gasp when his hand cups your entire pussy in his palm, two fingers parting your folds to stroke your clit. The other hand is gently laid across your throat, his thumb gently sweeping across your pulse.

“I love this little pussy, makes me feel so good and makes you feel good,” he rasps, moving his hand around to get the fingers inside you and his thumb on your clit.

“I want you to come on my fingers, before you earn the privilege to come on my cock,” he murmurs into your hair, his pace quickening. The familiar coil starts to tighten low in your belly and you start to rock against Jake's hand, desperately seeking your high. Your climax starts to build, and you plead,

“So close, Jake, can I come, sir?!”

He laughs lowly and gives you the answer you're hoping for and answers in a slightly condescending voice,

“Yes, you can come slut. Come on my fingers and then you can come on my cock. Now watch yourself.”

His hand on your neck holds your chin in place so you can watch yourself fall apart. You shout as the band inside you breaks and you find your release.

“Fuck, Jake! Oh my God!”

He keeps a steady rhythm extending your high, the waves of pleasure crashing around your body.

“Are you going to thank me? Seems like you enjoyed that,” Jake sneers, his mouth next to your ear as you thrash in his grip. He pushes hard on your clit when you take too long to answer and you gasp,

“Thank–, thank you, ahh, sir!”

His mouth breaks into a satisfied grin as he watches you come back to earth, your head against his shoulder and your eyes closed.

“Sweet El, color?” he murmurs in your ear, his arms wrapped around you in a comforting embrace.

“Green, so fucking green,” you answer as you start grinding your ass on Jake's still present and insistent hard on. He chuckles,

“You just got off and you want more, what a greedy little whore.”

“Please, need you,” you pant, your arousal building again as you continue to grind against him,

“Need your come inside my little pussy. Need it dripping out of me.”

“Fuck, El, you're going kill me with that talk,” Jake groans, moving his arms.

You expect him to turn you around and pull you onto the counter, but he slides his big palms to the underside of your thighs and pulls you up towards his chest.

You yelp in surprise and Jake responds with more commands,

“Arms around my neck, and get those feet on the counter.”

You comply lifting your feet and planting them firmly on the counter, Jake holding you open. When you look in the mirror you turn your head in embarrassment at your puffy, well fucked cunt is on display, your legs spread eagle. Jake grunts in disappointment,

“Look at yourself, look how good I've fucked you so far.”

Your face burning, you turn back to the mirror and catch Jake's gaze, the green of his irises invisible with how blown out his pupils are.

“There you go, good little slut,” he coos as he lifts you up and slides you easily over his cock.

You can't help moaning at the feeling of fullness and spots inside you he's hitting at this angle.

“Look at that,” he commands as he starts to slowly fuck up into you, his hands under your knees pulling you up and down,

“That little cunt is taking it all like a champ.”

“Please, more, Jake, plea–”, you plead.

He responds by thrusting up hard into you,

“Such a eager little whore, can't get enough dick in you and now you're begging for more.”

He speeds up his rhythm, you feel completely debauched and so good as he pumps into you fast and hard. His moans becoming shorter and more clipped as he approaches his climax.

“Touch yourself, El. Make yourself come on my cock, you gotta earn this come,” he orders you and you quickly comply, your hand immediately on your clit.

“There you go, gonna come for me?,” Jake says,

“Come and milk my dick, suck that come out of me. Want to see it dripping out that little pussy.”

The combination visual of you trussed up like a pornstar and Jake's filthy mouth brings your end quickly and harshly.

“Oh, fuuuck!” you scream, Jake's rhythm speeding up as he comes.

“Fuck, fuck, there it is. Take it all, slut,” he shouts. Warmth floods your core as Jake continues to fuck up into you as he rides out his high, the sound of his come in your pussy echoing obscenely against the hard walls of the bathroom. He holds you hard against him, the last spurts of come adding to the mess inside you. Still holding you up, spread open, he slowly withdraws from you, watching intently in the mirrors as his come drips out of you onto the counter.

Gently he lowers you to the ground and turns you to wrap you in his arms. Leaning down he gives you a sweet and long kiss, his hands cradling your face. The kiss breaks and he leans his forehead against yours and asks, voice full of concern,

“Are you okay, El? I don't know where that came from…sorry I sprung that on you.”

You cut off his worrying babble, your hands on his cheeks and looking into his uneasy eyes,

“Jake, we're okay. Great even. I wouldn't hesitate to let you know if I wasn't into it. You know that, I know that and we trust each other, completely.”

A light rush of air fans across your face as he lets out the breath he was holding.

You continue,

“It was hot as fuck. I love that we stumbled into a mutual kink.”

Jake raises an eyebrow, and questions,

“Kink?”

“Yup, you have a size kink and apparently so do I.”

He smirks, and teases,

“Who knew you were so kinky? El?”

You rolls yours eyes affectionately,

“Only you, Jake. Only you.”

He smiles brightly in response and you step out of his embrace with a mischievous gleam in your eyes.

“I'll have to send Darren from the bar a thank you note for initiating such a good night for us,” you say, waiting one second for Jake's reaction before you bolt towards the bedroom. An outraged squawk comes from Jake as he starts to follow you, bellowing,

“Woman! You'll do no such thing!”

The sound of your satisfied giggle rings out through the house.

--

This is by far the smuttiest thing I've ever written. Hope you enjoyed it.

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[idyllcy]

saying we're just friends, thinking you're my man

word count: 11.3k

warnings: non-explicit smut, heavy making out

summary: Distance gives the soul time to think, and Tim thinks he's in love with you.

It's a textbook relationship.

Tim can't count the number of times he's read a fic like this.

In fact, he can already imagine the tags on your love story. Strangers to lovers, Friends to Lovers, Fateful Encounter, Alternate Universe - College, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn... the list goes on. You'd probably have a field day trying to finish the story inspired by the one the two of you experienced. Though, as he brushes his fingers through your hair in the kisses of the morning sun, he wouldn't have it any other way — even if he couldn't form a coherent thought when you were awake and talking to him. God, you make him weak.

In the blaring heat of August at orientation, you landed right at his feet after getting shoved around in the crowd of students.

"You good?" He holds his hand for you, and you take it, pulling yourself up.

"Sorry! They're quite a crowd." You laugh awkwardly. "I'm, uh—" Your name tumbled past your lips, an apologetic smile on your face, explaining to him that you were trying to get to the English building through the crowd of students. Tim told you his name (only first in fear you'd recognize his last) and showed you a shortcut to the building. You had taken the messily scribbled image, airdropped it onto your phone, and you had rushed off with a thank you yelled into the air. Tim hadn't thought much about you. It wasn't as if you'd be in the same department as him. He also had minimal GE classes, so—

Two days later, you sit next to him in his only GE class. He was required to take English regardless of his previous experience with it. His AP classes hadn't been kind enough to remove the requirement. Not even the fives on both of his English APs could have helped him avoid the expository hell all freshmen were required to take. So, he meets eyes with you as you apologize for sitting next to him, confessing that he was the only face you knew.

"So? What's your major?" You blink at him curiously as the class waits for the professor.

"I'm in Cybersecurity."

"Woah." You mumble. "Stem..."

"You?"

"Creative Writing." You grin. "Well, build your own major. But Creative Writing nonetheless."

"A writer?"

"Yeah."

Tim had watched as you played Minecraft the entirety of class, only skimming through the syllabus for his late work, absence, and attendance policies. He's not sure if you even caught the way the professor mentioned there was a syllabus quiz next class. Though it wasn't his job to tell you, but he still felt kind of bad if you were to fail it. He passes you a note, and you pause your game, glancing at the note. You grin at him, opening your phone and showing him your reminder. You go back to your Minecraft world for the rest of class, information going in one ear and out the other. (Tim found out later that you actually listen, and gaming was only a focus tactic you used.)

At the end of class, you save your world, push your chair in, and sprint for the door.

Tim shared no other classes with you. In fact, the two of you only had one class together for all four years of your college lives. Yet, there was something about you that had stuck with him. He didn't know what it was, but he hadn't felt that giddy over someone since his last relationship, his heart racing in his chest, his head spinning. He pushed everything down in favor of being able to pay attention in class. Though his coding skills were spectacular, his writing skills were less than stellar. He didn't understand how writing just came to you.

Especially not when you fell asleep halfway through your first monthly timed essay and still scored a 97. He could learn a thing or two from you, maybe. Were you doing memory consolidation in the middle of the exam? He has no idea how you did it.

Your name slips past his lips as you pack up after one class.

"Yeah?" You tilt your head at him.

"Are you," he pauses, (a little embarrassed. Tim Drake, son of Bruce Wayne, CEO of WE, was in need of help. Of course he was a little embarrassed.) "down to tutor me? My grade in this class is less than... acceptable." He grimaces at how his voice goes quiet.

You smile. "Yeah. I'm down. I'll give you my number and schedule and we can arrange a time. Expository writing isn't that bad. It's just the same sentence structure with some BS and then you're done."

"Easy for you to say," He hands you his phone.

"No. It's just like how you have structure when you code." You click your number in, texting yourself and saving his contact before you forget. "There is structure in everything you do."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." You beam at him.

Tim's next essay comes back with an 81. It's a big improvement from the 64 he scored the first time. You were right, the essays being the same thing over and over again. The structure is as easy as basic coding is to him. He understands you now.

He thanks you by taking you to the diner, paying for your meal.

You kick your legs at the booth, milkshake straw between your lips, lost in thought.

"Penny for your thoughts?" He raises a brow.

"Tim... what's your last name?" You frown. "It's fine if you don't tell me, but my friends have been asking who I've been tutoring and I realized I have no idea what your last name is."

"It's Drake." He scans your face for something when he tells you.

"Drake..." You pause, letting go of the milkshake straw. "huh. Like the CEO." You go back to your milkshake after the revelation.

"Not surprised?"

"I mean," You grimace at him. "You wear the down-low designer brands your adoptive father does, so not really. I had my suspicions, but I didn't want to pry in case you didn't want to tell."

"Down-low designer brands?"

"Bruce Wayne has a specific way of dressing casual." You bite on your straw. "I know this sounds creepy but I've done more research on brands billionaires wear than I'd like to admit."

"Does it have to do with your writing?" Tim thanks the waiter as his order is brought.

"Yeah." You smile sheepishly. "Is that creepy? Sorry."

"No. I've been expecting the unexpected from you for a while now."

You laugh. "Yeah?"

"I have an older brother who writes in his free time and the amount of things he's done for research is crazy."

"Right? Reddit and Quora are my saviors." You mumble. "I obviously can't kill for research, so the internet is my best friend."

"Do you search on incognito?"

"No. I prefer being able to dig up my weird research from my search history." You shrug. "I bet the FBI has me on a watchlist."

"I could check if you'd like."

You feign a look of shock. "Really?"

He smiles at you, and the two of you burst into laughter.

"You going to Connor's Halloween party next week?" You finish the last of your milkshake.

"Of course not." He deadpans. "Must I remind you I hate going out?"

"Awh," You pout. "I wanted someone to match maid dresses with."

"Excuse me?"

"For research."

The smile on your face suggests anything but.

"You can consider it as payment for all the times I'm going to tutor you."

"I've been paying you."

"No." You shake your head. "You pay me each time we have a session. I'm letting you pay me for the rest of the lessons by showing up to the Halloween party in a maid dress with me."

Tim looks at you incredulously.

"Actually, I'll even draft a contract if you don't believe me." You smile.

"And if I turn you down?"

"I'll find one of my friends to do it with."

"Then why ask me?"

"The thrill of the unknown? The endless answers you could have chosen? A grasp on your character better? It could be anything." You smile sweetly at him. "It's fine. You can continue paying me like you normally do."

"Who would you match with if not me?"

"Well, I was thinking Sam or someone else," You shrug. "but Sam doesn't celebrate Halloween. I'd match with the other guy friend, but one of my friends is into him so I don't want to make it seem like I'm making a move on someone I know she likes."

"So you asked me?"

"I don't know, Tim." You shrug. "You tell me. I thought you were a genius."

He leans in to read your face better. "I'd say you asked me because you're interested in me."

"Bingo." You grin wider this time.

"It's been less than two months."

"And? Hasn't stopped people from already hooking up." You shrug. "You can say no."

"See, I'd say yes, but Connor would take a photo and it would end up in our groupchat's blackmail folder." Tim slides his fries to the middle when he catches you staring. "You can have one."

"I thought you were a master hacker?" You pick a fry from the carton.

"Yeah, but friend code."

"Ah." You nod slowly. "It's okay to say no. I won't get offended."

"Maybe next year." Tim shakes his head.

"No worries!"

Tim stalks your Instagram on the day of Halloween, staring at the post where you're matching maid dresses with your entire friend group. In the back of his mind, he wonders, for a brief moment, if it would have just been you and him if he had agreed. The thought disappears just as fast, sighing as he puts his phone down and domino mask on. He had patrol. He could think about his mess of emotions later. Gotham needs him.

Your breath hitches from the spiked punch, your friends long lost in the crowd, your head spinning as you stumble onto the balcony of the apartment, resting your head on the cool of the metal railing, trying to calm the thumping of your head. You hear something rustle in front of you, the sound of someone swinging, and you open an eye to get a look. Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of Red Robin.

"Hey—"

"Dude... your costume looks way too realistic." You press your fingers to his armor, pulling him onto the balcony with you, mumbling under your breath as you feel him up through his costume. The smell of alcohol is apparent on your lips, the smell of your perfume flooding his senses — your cheeks are flushed beyond repair, and Tim finds himself frozen in place as you practically straddle him, fingers running to his face. His eyes dart to your cleavage unconsciously, staring back up to meet your eyes when he sees too much. You look sinful like this. His breath catches in his throat as he tries to loosen your grip on him without accidentally throwing you off, and he finally presses a hand of his to your stomach, successfully getting you to stop.

"Sorry." You mumble.

"No worries." He rasps, pushing you back onto your seat gently — heart drumming in his head.

"Ey, Red Robin!" Connor calls from inside the house. "You made it!"

"I'm not here to party. I was checking in on you to see if you were being responsible." He sighs.

You blink at him, doe-eyed, fascinated, drunken stupor all over your face.

"You're real?"

"Yes." He mumbles.

"Sorry for touching you."

"You're forgiven."

You lean back into your seat with an exhale, pulling out your phone as Connor leads Tim further into the party. He speaks to Oracle to let her know where he was, and he exhales when she tells him B says it's fine. He nods at the people who compliment his costume as he passes them, and he grabs himself a cup of punch, pausing when the alcohol stings his tongue. He dumps it in Connor's sink, eyes trailing to where you were sitting, breath catching in his throat at the sight of some sleaze slinging his arm around you. He rushes over to you, fingers smoothing down your neck to your shoulders, warning smile on his face.

"She has company for the night."

The man scrambles as you look up at him, beaming. His breath catches in his throat.

"Careful. I might just take you home."

"Don't you dorm?" He raises a brow in amusement.

"No one said my home." You turn around to reach for his jaw, fingers trailing down, breath fanning his. Tim would let you do this. He really would. He'd kiss you senseless on the balcony at Connor's house, yet he knows better than to do so. You're drunk from the punch. He'd be taking advantage of you no matter how much you want this when sober. So, he runs his thumb over your bottom lip, forehead meeting yours, every ounce of his willpower pulled into not just kissing you senseless here. If only you were sober. The things he would do.

"Where is she — babes! Time to go!" Your friend breaks the tension for him, pulling you away from him with a nod, alcohol riding off of her as well. He wonders if your driver is tipsy.

"I wanna go home with Red Robin..." You mumble, and your friend smacks you playfully. He notices one of you is sober, and he supposes that's enough. He heads back inside to find Connor.

Tim notices you miss class the next day. You text him to ask him to record the lecture for you, telling him the Halloween party was lit and you remember almost making out with a guy but your friend cockblocked you. Tim holds back a laugh in class, letting you know he'd email you his notes with the lecture recording. You thank him with an image, going offline immediately after. He clicks on his laptop, noting down whatever you might need. The recording would cover the rest. He sends everything at the end of class, your response instant. It wouldn't matter if you were absent from class. Your grade could take a hit.

He answers his phone when you dial him.

"Hey?"

"Timmers, you got Tylenol?"

"I can buy you some?" He offers. "I don't have class after this."

"Please? Oh, and throw in that one specific brand of bottled tea. I'll send you a photo." You grumble.

"Are you feeling better?"

"Like a dead girl walking."

"Taking that as a no. Want anything else?"

"I'll Venmo you the money. Bring me the receipt."

"You're sick. You can pay me back by actually being in class next lecture."

"Not hard. My head just hurts from the hangover."

"I'm guessing you got home safe?" Tim steps into the convenience store.

"Yeah. Our driver was sober. Thankfully."

Tim grabs the Tylenol and pauses. "I need the tea."

"Which convenience store are you in?"

"Metro."

"Aisle three by the American soda. It's green with white writing. You can read Chinese, right? It's Japanese but it says tea in Chinese."

"How'd you know?" Tim pauses. "Unsweetened green tea? The Japanese one?"

"Yeah. It helps a lot." You sniff. "Found out on google because someone made a compilation of you speaking foreign languages."

"So you assumed?"

"The part where you speak Cantonese, you were reading from a menu."

"Are you stalking me?"

"I'd prefer doing research."

"Stalking."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night."

Tim checks out, tapping his phone to pay. He takes the bag and pauses at the sight of the instant noodles. "You sure you don't want anything else?"

"Nothing. Feel free to get what you need too."

Tim hears you drink something.

"I'll text you my dorm building and number. There's no pin to get in just let them know you're here to see me. I'm pretty close with the RA."

"Networking already, huh?"

"Whatever you want to call it."

You text him your dorm building and number, and he knocks on your door.

You open it with a weak push of your arm.

"Are you actually sick?"

"No." You thank him as he hands you the plastic bag. You pop two pills out, swallowing them with the tea. "I'm extremely hungover. I drank too much punch."

"And you didn't realize?"

"No. I was trying to drink my thoughts away." You sniff. "So? How'd you spend yesterday?"

"Handing out candy at the manor with Bruce." Which was a lie. He spent Halloween using every last drop of self-control to not kiss your drunk self senseless at Connor's place. He can still smell your perfume.

"Sounds boring."

"I do it every year." He shrugs. Also a lie. He spends every Halloween patrolling Gotham because it's the one night of the year where every single criminal decides it's alright to go apeshit.

"mm," You yawn. "I matched maid dresses with my friend group. I posted about it. Do you have insta?"

"No. I keep a low profile."

"So you don't have a private account?" You raise a brow.

"I do, but what makes you think we're close enough for it?" Tim mirrors your raise of brow.

You hold your hand to your mouth, pretending to be offended. "We're not close enough for it?"

"I'm kidding." He mumbles. "What's your handle? I'll follow you."

"You better not turn down my request." You reach for the green tea again, drinking it as you show him your account. He already knows your account. He figured he'd have to ask or else he'd be a hypocrite for calling you his stalker. Well, he's already a hypocrite.

"Ough!" You sit up straighter, reaching for your laptop. "Connor sent me these photos that the photographer caught of me and Red Robin" You swoon.

"You're into him?"

You blink at him. "Did I not tell you I run his stan account?"

"You do wHAT." He freezes. "Are you the girl who gets caught up on the news every other week because you accidentally fall while taking photos of him?"

"Yep." You grin. "He's my favorite Robin."

Tim was extremely conflicted at the discovery. In retrospect, he should have known from the way you seemed to climb all over him and pull him onto the balcony without second thought, but he's still embarrassed at the idea that you had fawned all over him. Yet he shakes his thoughts away as he peers over your shoulder to stare at the photos caught of the two of you — well, of you. You didn't know he was Red Robin.

There's a photo of you straddling him, feeling him up, and Tim's neck snaps to the side.

"Tim? You good? You don't need to look if you're uncomfortable, you know?" You remind.

"No," He swallows. "I wasn't expecting photos like this."

"Isn't the photographer good? I'd pay this guy to take photos of me at parties any day."

"Yeah?" Tim raises a brow as you show him the other two. One of him with his fingers on your collar, the other of his forehead pressed to yours, thumb between the two of you's lips. You explain to him in excitement that you would have kissed him had your friend not pulled you away because you needed to leave. Tim rests his back on your closet, nodding along slowly. He had homework to do. Yet he spent the rest of the afternoon in your room listening to you ramble about Red Robin, conspiracies reminding him of someone.

"So let me get this straight." Tim interrupts. "I'm on a time crunch. I have something for one of my compsci classes due soon and wanted to get the big picture."

"Oh. I'm sorry for—"

"Don't." He holds his hand out. "I stayed. You run the biggest Red Robin stan account on Twitter and you're planning on posting those photos like he's some kpop idol?"

"Yeah?" You tilt your head.

"Are the fans not going to get mad that he's making out with someone at a party?"

"No." You laugh. "His fans are used to him being in relationships. The most they'd do is figure out who that is, which is me, but that's it."

"You won't get death threats?"

"His fans aren't crazy."

"Yeah? You seem pretty mental to me."

You gasp. "Rude." You look to the side, sucking your cheeks in. "But not wrong."

"Yeah. If you denied it, I'd just pull up every single time you'd fallen while trying to get good photos of Red Robin."

You pout. "Shoo. You said you had something due soon."

"Last question."

"Shoot."

"You don't mind that he's never going to date you?"

"Timmers." You laugh. "He's a hero and I'm a fan. It's like asking me if I'm ever going to date a billionaire. It's impossible. Not written in the stars. It's a groundless dream."

"Yeah?" His own heart cracks a little when you mention a billionaire.

"Yeah." You smile. "Now do your work. You have a GPA to take care of."

"Got it."

Tim finds that nearing the end of the semester, you meet with him less and less, tutoring him on Zoom instead, apologizing, explaining that you had a ton of creative work due for your other classes. You had been planning on graduating early, he finds out. It was your freshman year, and you were trying to get your sophomore classes out of the way. He was bothered. It was incredible — the sheer amount of classes you took. It was more impressive that you had time to write your own creative works.

"So?"

"How did you score last time? I'm starting to think you have me tutor you still because you're into me." You joke.

"Ninety. All we have left is the stupid final."

"You're set then." You yawn. "Why still have me tutor you?"

Your mind wanders as you click on one of your assignments. "Oh, how about this, then? I have an interview I need to conduct for my journalism class, and you'd be the perfect candidate. I'm expected to record it in the building and it's due in three days."

"Three days?"

"I bet you have everything out of the way, huh?" You smile at him, batting your lashes. "Hm?"

Tim, does, in fact, have everything out of the way.

"And if I don't?" He likes teasing you.

"Then I'll ask one of my friends. The topic is the discussion of a topic you aren't familiar with. You're good with coding, something I can't do past basic HTML to edit how text looks." You hum. "I'm grappling at every excuse I can to hang out with you, if you can't tell."

"Oh, I definitely can."

"Great." You smile. "How does tomorrow at 8 in the morning sound?"

"So early?" Tim raises a brow.

"I'll bring us coffee. Give me your order."

"Sold."

Tim realizes at 3am that you never gave him a dress code. Should he show up in casual? Business casual? Semi-formal? Formal — no, formal attire seemed like too much. He grimaces as he's in the Batcave, irritation all over his face.

"Something wrong, Timmers?" Dick raises a brow.

"Yeah. What do you wear to an interview?"

"Depends what kind." Bruce answers, pulling the cowl from his head. "Who's the interviewer? Is it official?"

"A friend is interviewing me for a project."

"Final project or just a project?"

"Forgot to ask."

"You can't go wrong with semi-formal. Dress like old money." Dick hums. "Polo shirt and khakis. Throw in a sweater tied around your neck and you should be good to go."

"I agree." Bruce hums.

"Do you need to impress said friend?" Jason raises a brow from behind the two.

"Wh-what does that have to do with the interview?"

Jason smirks at the stutter. "Get Steph to dress you. She'd make you look good and dress for the occasion."

"I think I'll go with Dick's—"

"Half-buttoned dress shirt and dress pants." Steph cuts in, pausing. "No, that'll make you look desperate. Grey sweats, blazer, and a white tee. Dark colored blazer but NOT black."

"Why can't I just wear a polo shirt and just—"

"You want to look good, right? Roll the sleeves up to right before your elbows. Mess up your hair a little too."

Tim sighs. "It's winter."

"Drake. Do you want to look good for your crush?" Damian cuts in.

"She's not a crush-"

"Last time you said that you were still pining after your ex." Steph laughs. "If you really want to look casual just wear what you normally wear but add some perfume."

"She's interviewing me for my major." Tim finally gets to speak.

"Then just dress like you normally do." Dick pats him on the back with a laugh. "Hoodie and sweats. Wear a tee underneath if in case you get hot so you can pull it over your head and she can watch."

"Hey-"

"I agree with that." Steph smiles. "If you're lucky, your shirt will ride up a little and she'll get to see—"

"Got it!" Tim yells, groaning. "My usual clothing it is. I'll bring a blazer in case she does want me to dress semi formal."

"Attaboy." Bruce ruffles his hair as he makes his way up.

Tim groans. He's not going to get enough sleep for this.

You call him in the morning when the coffee shop you frequent isn't open.

"Mm?" Tim furrows his brows, morning voice evident.

"Coffee shop closed. You mind if I just make one at the convenience store for you?"

"Knock yourself out. You're early."

"I need to set up the equipment." You hum.

"What color should I wear?"

"Something not green. I'm in red. See you in an hour."

"See you." Tim mumbles back, ending the call. He sits up, bed hair evident, staring at himself in the mirror. The exhausted part of himself wants to go back to sleep, but the better part of him — the giddy, excited, coming-of-age-has-a-crush-on-someone part of him — has him sit up from sheer willpower. (something he finds he has a lot of when it comes to you) He gets out of bed, pulling for the clothes he prepped the night before, combing his hair for once. He'd like to look nice for the camera, for you, he thinks. It would be a little frustrating to see the stand-in CEO of WE dress so casually. He has some sort of reputation to hold up when he isn't a student. Though he supposes he's being interviewed as a student, so there's not much of a need to dress so well.

But he supposes he wants to impress you.

He arrives five minutes before 8, locking his car and knocking on the door to the room.

"Hey," You smile at him.

"You didn't lock the door." He locks it behind him. "In Gotham during winter?"

"I knew you'd be here early." You adjust the cameras. "Your coffee's on the table."

"Thank you," He takes off his coat, hanging it on the rack. "Can I know what questions you'll be asking me?"

"Next to your coffee." You yawn. "You're dressed nice."

"Is it too little?" He smiles at you apologetically.

"No. Not at all." You smile. "Not when I'm dressed like," You motion at yourself. "This."

"You look like a friend." He points.

"Honored." You laugh. "The cameras are set up. I rented the room until 11. Take your time with the coffee."

"You're asking about me?"

"Yeah." You laugh. "The goal is to gradually have you talk about why you chose your major so we can have a relatively deep conversation. It's an intro to interviewing course, but the professor's ultimate goal was to make sure we make at least one friend."

"Yeah?" Tim puts his coffee down, smile on his lips. "Am I that friend?"

"Yeah," You smile back at him. "You can ask me questions too. It's supposed to be a casual interview. I'll only ask you a question when we run out of things to talk about."

Tim discovers a symphony of information from you. You open your heart to him the same way he can to some extent, smile on his lips when he tells you about his days during high school and his earlier relationships, forgetting that this was an interview for your class and that you would probably have to go through hours of footage in response to this. The plush of the seat is warm underneath him, your voice is a melody to his ears, Tim nodding along as you tell him about the one time you snuck out of the house as a teenager and got your ass beat because you got caught. The smile on your lips is contagious, he finds. He hadn't fallen for someone this hard since his ex.

Tim took you to lunch that day, desperate to get to know more about you, desperate to know you. He would have called it a date if you had let him.

You had your laptop pulled up, sorting through the footage (the three hour long footage) of the two of you's conversation, nodding along and rambling casually, clicking through to cut more personal matters from the interview, only required to give your teacher a clip and the raw file's total length to prove that you two hadn't just staged a conversation. You take a fry from his plate, your sandwich finished on your plate, humming when you finish editing.

"Are you always this fast?"

"Depends on what context." You wink.

"You were pretty fast to upload those new Red Robin photos too." If he noticed the sexual connotation of your words, he didn't mention anything.

"Well, other than lighting, I don't really need to edit anything."

"Speaking of which, do you even pay tuition?"

"Martha Wayne Scholarship." You yawn. "Your dad is looaaaded."

You submit your assignment to Canva, yawning. "That was my last one."

"You finished all those writing assignments?"

"Writing comes to me like hacking does to you." You close your laptop, tucking it into your bag. "Thanks for lunch, by the way."

"Mhm." He smiles. "Glad you liked your sandwich."

"My favorite." You hum. "So? Any updates? New girl? New boy? Relationship? Your dad adopted a new sibling? What's new?"

"Siblings keep teasing me."

"Oh? For what? For me?" You press a hand to your chest, wiggling your brows at him. You burst into laughter when he turns red. "Yeah? Because of me?"

"I asked them what I should wear to an interview, and suddenly they were asking me if I had a girlfriend."

"Yeah? So what did you tell them?"

"Interview from a friend." His eyes meet yours, eerily sincere. "Why?"

(the use of friend leaves a pang in your chest)

"Curious." You shrug. "So? Going anywhere for vacation?"

"Just Christmas at the Wayne Manor. You know, the rich people gala?"

You shudder, laughing. "Good luck."

"I'll need it. God knows who else I have to network with that night."

"Well, my dorm's open if you want it." You shrug. "But I doubt Bruce would let you leave since you are the CEO."

"Stand-in." He corrects.

"CEO nonetheless." You hum. "Should I send you a Christmas present?"

"What would you even send me?"

"It would be a surprise."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Tim finds a gift from you under the Christmas tree, presumably placed there by Alfred. He had missed when you dropped it off, knocked out in the warmth of his bed without the pressure of an exam for once, letting himself ignore the cases he promised himself he'd solve. He promised you he'd get one day of proper sleep. Your texts are the only ones that cause his phone to vibrate during break. (He's down horrendously bad for you, Jason had whispered to Dick while Tim had responded to your message, lovesick grin on his face.)

Distance gives the soul time to think, and Tim thinks he's in love with you.

It comes as a revelation on Christmas morning, coffee mug warm in his hand as he watches his siblings open their Christmas gifts, laughing at certain ones and holding back his face from a smile breaking past his lips at others. He's third on the list to open his gifts, third son and all, and Tim finishes the last of his coffee, fingers reaching for his presents, all wrapped in a shade of red different from Jason's blood red. He thanks everyone for their gifts, raising a brow in amusement when he pulls out Damian's, a genuine smile breaking on his smile at Bruce's. Finally, he finds himself reaching for the gift you had gotten him, his fingers shaking as he breaks open the wrapping paper, smile on his face at the camera you got him. There's even an SD card and a battery charger part of the box you had prepped him.

"Oooh, Timmers is that from your girlfriend?"

"She's not my—"

The family breaks into teasing remarks as Tim groans, blush fresh on his skin, heart racing in his ears — that's when he realizes, the painful realization, a realization that breaks him into silence — he's in love with you.

Bruce has everyone move on as Steph sits down to open her gifts, and Tim's throat dries at the epiphany. He's in love with you — and that same lovesick smile breaks on his face as he wonders if you got his Christmas present. It was as if the two of you synced with the gift. Maybe he'd catch you taking photos of him with your camera. This time, he should stare back at you, flash you a smile, strike a pose, something, anything to fluster you. He was already looking forward to patrol that night. He picks up his mug, excusing himself quietly to get another cup of coffee, pulling his blanket with him as he clicks on his phone, placing his cup under the machine as he thanks you for the gift.

You respond immediately, video-calling him on accident, flustered state caught on camera, hair still a mess from waking up.

"I'm so sorry—"

Tim laughs. "It's fine. Are you home?"

"No. I slept over at a friend's place since my mom and I don't celebrate Christmas." You smile at him fondly. "I brought the gift you mailed to me, though. I haven't opened it yet."

"Let's say it's for your bird watching."

"You did not." You gasp, looking over your phone. "I'll have my friend record a video when we rip open our presents. Have fun on Christmas, Tim. Love you lots—"

Tim's face turns utterly red at the words, blinking wide-eyed at the now-ended call. You just... wow. He takes his mug of coffee, sitting back at his old seat where his siblings were, in a half-blissed-out state at your words. (He's told later on by your friend that you had sobbed into her chest when you realized you told him you loved him on accident.)

You text him sometime during the afternoon with the video of you opening your present, thanking him for his generous gift. You let him know that you'd send him your new photos with his present first, letting him see how good the quality of his camera could be. He texts you to sit on your dorm roof instead, and you ask if he was planning on kidnapping you. Maybe you'd let him take you for a swing. Instead, he tells you it's a present for your fanpage. You ask him if he's going to call Red Robin himself. He leaves you on read.

Bruce notices the way Tim's eerily giddy for a Christmas patrol, but he doesn't comment on it.

You exhale into the winter air, the cold piercing your lungs as you hold the camera between your gloved fingers, kicking your legs as you sit on the edge of the building, strap hung around your neck. You hum quietly as you watch the snow start, and a shadow looms over your shoulder.

"Hey." Tim smiles at you, Red Robin outfit on.

"Woah. He wasn't lying." You gasp. Your name spills past your lips, rambling about how you were his biggest fan. He stares at you through the whites of his domino mask, smile breaking onto his face.

"I've seen your Twitter."

"Yeah?" You exhale, eyes sparkling. "Honored. I hope you aren't going out of your way to visit me or anything. Gotham needs their vigilantes."

"And if I am?"

"Then you should go." Your cheeks flush from the winter warmth, and he steps close to you, forehead pressed to yours.

"You remember me from Halloween?"

"We have a thing with meeting on holidays, hm?" You laugh gently, eyes crinkling, Tim's expression softening.

"Yeah, we do." He hums, leaning in further. "May I?"

"Yeah." You exhale, lips finally pressed to his under the winter snow, his hands warm on your face as you lean in closer to him, chest pressed to his, lips parted to give him access to your mouth. Your head spins deliciously from the taste of his lips, his perfume reminding you of someone you know all too well, your mind muddled with the fact that you're actually making out with Red Robin, your celebrity crush. You whimper against his lips when he nips at your bottom one, his breath catching in his throat.

"Fuck, pretty girl. You can't just do that." He heaves, resting his forehead on yours again.

"Wow." You breathe, starstruck, eyes staring up at his.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." You laugh melodiously, and Tim feels his heart grow full. "Can I get a photo?"

"For you? Anything."

You make a Christmas post on your Twitter, photo of Red Robin with a Santa hat and white beard staying pinned for the Holiday season. (Tim wasn't allowed to live it down from his family, but he had gotten to kiss you stupid, so he was more than willing to take the jabs.)

He invites you to his place for New Year's Eve, invitation tumbling past his lips and nearly getting drowned out by his panicked rambling, cheeks red beyond repair and stutter catching in his throat, only for you to tell him that you'd "love to" and that you were "honored." You asked him if there was a dress code, and he told you it was fine. Even if the Wayne gala was that night, he would just sneak to his room when you arrived. He could finish socializing with the rich in a couple of minutes. Hell, he'd flirt his way out of it like Bruce did if it meant he could see you early. He tells you to arrive in a nice dress anyway, asking for your measurements so he could send you something. (You didn't want to give it to him, but he insisted.)

You pull up to the gala perfectly on time, ignoring the paparazzi asking you who invited you and making a beeline to who you assumed was Alfred and asking him if you could be taken to Tim's room. The gala wasn't somewhere you wanted to be, and Alfred had been more than welcoming, leading you and leaving you in Tim's room, telling you to make yourself comfortable since you were Tim's guest. You spent twenty minutes looking through his photobooks before he stumbled into his room, a little sweaty since he had been running.

"Hey." He smiles at you dorkily, smiling like a nerd in love.

"Wow. You're dressed nice." You mumble, staring him up and down.

"You don't look too bad yourself," He hums, locking his door behind himself. "Did you get to eat anything?"

"I ate before I came and made a beeline for Alfred when I came. Too many cameras."

"Sorry." He exhales. "Looking at my photos?"

"They're nice."

"They're from years ago." He hums. "Before my parents passed."

You mumble something under your breath, eyes meeting his in something akin to sadness.

"It's fine, now." Tim presses his thumb to the space between your brows, your expression relaxing immediately.

"Ah, right." You slip out the SD card from your purse, blinking at him. "You have a card reader?"

"Yeah." Tim sits in his chair, opening his laptop through some series of codes, holding his hand out for your SD card.

You drop it in his palm, his fingers drumming against the table as he opens the files.

"I got photos of Red Robin." You grin. "He was there on my dorm roof. Did you send him?"

"Yeah." He smiles. "Did you like the gift?"

"My Twitter loved it." You smile. You neglect to tell him that you had kissed Red Robin breathless. (Tim doesn't notice the way you get embarrassed, trying to fight off the red on his own cheeks when he remembers the way the two of you had made out on the roof.)

Tim pauses at the photo of him swinging away.

"Why didn't you post this one?"

"I was actually planning on posting it today." You hum. "The ones of him in action."

"You have multiple?"

You click into a folder, enter your password, showing him the photos.

"The camera's great, by the way. Red Robin may not have an ass as impressive as Nightwing, but he still has a nice ass." You laugh, clicking open the photos. Tim chokes on the air at the photos, and he laughs.

"Oh, yeah, Twitter would love this."

You shrug playfully. "What can I say? It pays."

Tim glances at the clock on the wall. Two minutes from midnight.

"How'd you spend the morning?"

"My friend came to pick me up so she could do my makeup." You laugh. "Then she brought me to the mall so we could get me some heels," You kick your legs to show him. "And then another friend, the one with a nice car, drove me here. My other friends insisted they watch me walk off to you. I forgot to tell them your last name after I asked for it, so they were quite surprised when they dropped me off her."

"Maybe I should thank your friends for helping you look so pretty."

"Yeah?" You smile, hopping to sit on his desk.

He stands up, pressing his forehead to yours, tucking your hair behind your ear, nose brushing yours.

"Yeah. What do they like?" Tim hums, your perfume flooding his senses again, his doing the same.

"Ever been told you share a perfume with Red Robin?" You whisper.

"No. You'd be the first."

"What's the brand?"

The brand falls onto silence as you press your lips to his, fireworks signaling the new year going off in the back. Tim's hands dig into your waist, eyes half-lidded, tongue pressing into yours with so much passion your knees might've gone weak had you not been already seated. Your hands find themselves tangled in his hair, pulling lightly when his hand finds itself on the zipper behind you. He pulls away for a moment, begging for your consent, asking if this was okay.

You had told him yes in a heartbeat.

Thus, Tim found himself enveloped with you, senses sent into overdrive, your skin pressed to his, sweat mixing with his, body tangled with his in his sheets — the same sheets he had thought about you so often in, the one where he had thought about you while he spilled into his hand, fingers pressed to your skin, mouth on your skin, sucking, biting, marking, doing whatever you would let him do to you. Your dress was long abandoned by his desk, his own suit leaving a trail toward the bed where he had you in his fingers.

He prayed this wouldn't be a foolish dream.

When he wakes in the morning, pulling you closer to his chest, your lashes fluttering against his skin, his heart warms. He should ask you to date him right now, he thinks. But his heart races in his chest, wondering if you would agree. Maybe the two of you had kissed in the heat of the moment, and you had let him have you because he had asked so nicely. He looks down at you as your eyes are completely open now, embarrassed smile on your face. He misses his chance.

"Good morning." He looks at you like you're his whole world.

"Good morning." You smile back at him like he's the universe.

The two of you fall back into the pace you had established the previous semester, this time without any classes together, only texting every now and then with updates. Tim hates this new life he lives. He misses seeing you during class and watching you play subway surfers on your phone or Bloons TD on your laptop. He opts for texting you during class instead, typing notes as he types responses to your messages. He wonders if you miss him the same way he misses you. He's too afraid to ask, still clinging onto the way your skin had felt on his during New Year's. It doesn't help that your department is halfway across the campus.

The next time he gets to see you, he's Red Robin, and he catches the familiar flash of your camera on the rooftop as he swerves into action. He finishes with the thugs easily, swinging back up to land next to you, your camera pressed to your chest, clicking capture as he raises a brow at you. You blink at him, smile on your lips. You don't look apologetic at all, almost cheekily. It was as if you knew he'd notice you.

"Hey."

"Hey." You beam at him. "Nice fight."

"Thank you. Care to tell me why you're out here during the February cold to get photos of me?"

"Because you're my favorite?" You blink at him, eyes wide.

"That's cute." He hums. "Shall I take you home?"

"Oh, if you could be so kind." You smile. "I had a friend drop me off nearby and I think he left already."

"Yeah?" Tim wraps an arm around your back, pressing you to him snugly, your arms wrapping around his neck. You close your eyes as the winter air hits your face, only for him to whisper into your ear. "Open your eyes."

Gotham looks breathless from wherever the hell Red Robin was in the air. Your breath catches in your throat, staring in awe as Tim swings from building to building, finally landing on the one where you dormed. You let go of him, cheeks warm from the air and the view, turning to look at him.

"Thank you. Thank you a lot." You smile at him, Tim mirroring your smile.

"Can I get a reward?" He had meant it as a joke, only for you to press your lips to his cheek, his eyes widening at the feeling.

"Is that good enough?"

"I was thinking something else, but that works too." He presses his lips to the corner of yours, smile on his face. "Stay safe."

"For you." You wave at him as he swings away from your building. You look through the photos you had gotten of him, going down the flight of stairs to the elevator. You had stuff to post for the rest of the month.

Tim finally bumps into you at the convenience store one fateful afternoon, reaching for your wrist before he could even register that he was scared you'd run off. He blinks at you as you blink back at him, tilting your head to offer him an awkward smile.

"Hey?"

"Hi. I'll pay, um, if you'll let me have a moment of your time."

"Yeah? Yeah." You nod dumbly. "That'd be fine. I don't have class right now."

"Yeah. I'll take your basket." He reaches for it naturally, swiping his card with ease. He hands you your stuff back, and you follow him, popping open your green tea.

"What'd you need me for?"

"Missed you."

"Yeah? I missed you too. It's weird not sharing a class anymore." You press the tea to your lips. "Missed me or the insanely good sex we had on New Year's—"

"You." Tim smiles. "Missed hearing your voice."

"Awh, what a cheeseball." You snicker, staring at the green start on the trees. "Cherry blossom season is approaching."

"Yeah. So are midterms." He shudders. "How's your classes?"

"You know, drowning in work in order to graduate early." You hum. "I'm writing something right now."

"For class?"

"Yeah. For fiction writing. The story has to be related to something you've experienced in college so far and I was wondering—" You inhale sharply through your teeth. "If I could write about us?"

"As your friend or as the guy you slept with on New Years?"

You open and close your mouth. "Both. Yeah. Both."

"May I read it after you finish?"

"I'll share the doc." You smile. "Thank you. I've been meaning to ask you."

"I'm honored that you'd write about me as a college experience."

"Yeah..." You trail off. "Oh, did you see my Twitter update? I got these super clear photos of Red Robin fighting thanks to the camera you gave me. Thank you, again."

"You're welcome." He hums. "Doing anything on Valentines?"

You puff out your cheeks. "Supposed to hang out with friends, but me and my other friend want to ditch so the two idiots would finally get to hang out without us third and fourth wheeling."

"So you're busy?"

"Not if you want to hang out." You tilt your head, capping your green tea.

"You'd do that for me?"

"Yeah." You hum. "But you'd have to make it worth ditching for."

"Oh, then leave everything to me." He hums, fingers brushing yours. "I'll pick you up around nine in the morning."

"And what time will you have me back?" You tease, pressing yourself closer to him.

"What time do you want to be back?"

"Whatever time you want." You hum. "Please pick me up in a nice car your dad owns. I want to see the interior of one of them."

"Sure." Tim hums. "Any other requests?"

"How should I dress?"

"Casual." He hums. "Do you want to match?"

"We can color coordinate." You gasp. "What color do you own the most of?"

"Red." He hums.

"Owh! We can match red." You grin.

Tim walks you back to your dorm, staring as you enter the elevator and disappear from view. He thinks a little about where he should bring you, lips pulling up lightly when he remembers something you had mentioned off-handedly in your interview with him. He knew now.

Tim shows up at your door with roses, your friends peering from behind the door as you take the flowers with him with a light flush on your cheek. You're dressed completely casual, red sweatpants matching his red hoodie, grey hoodie matching his sweats. You smile at him sweetly as you take the flowers from him, and your friends pull you aside, staring him down. One of your friends, bless her, tells him to treat you properly. She jabs a finger into his chest, going off about how she didn't care if he was some rich dude — the same rules applied, especially when it was your first relationship. Tim's eyes widen at the fact, your eyes darting to the side, a little embarrassed. Your other friends drag her off of him.

"Why didn't you tell me I'm your first?" He whispers.

You pout. "Didn't want to come off as inexperienced."

"That's not something to be embarrassed about." He hums.

"You would've treated me differently if you knew."

Tim sucks in a breath. "Yeah. I would've."

"Point proven." You hum. "Thank you for the flowers. They're very pretty."

He opens your door for you, waving bye to your friends. You sit there, staring at him as he stares at you.

"Where are we going?"

"Remembered how you joked about being taken on a first date to Costco?"

"No." Your jaw drops.

"I have a membership." He pulls the card from his wallet, and you gasp.

"You spoil me."

"Save that for when you're actually inside."

You fake a swoon, smiling at him sweetly, lips curled upward and brows relaxed. Tim hums, pulling on his own seatbelt, handing you the aux to the car, and you put the flowers onto the backseat. You plug your phone in as he starts driving, and you blink at all the buttons on the car.

"What are these for?"

"One of them's for missiles."

"What." Your jaw drops.

"I'm kidding." He laughs. "Most of them are for defense. Bruce's very into cars."

"I can tell." You mumble. "What are we getting at Costco?"

"Your green tea," He stops at the light. "And whatever else intruiges you."

"Can I get a Costco hotdog?"

"Yeah." He laughs. "You want a slice of pizza too?"

"Maybe." You scrunch your nose. "Moreso a hotdog."

"We can get whatever you want." Tim hums.

"Wow, if I didn't know better, I'd think you were trying to woo me." You laugh. (Tim hates the way he notices your eyes crinkle.)

"And if I am? It is Valentines."

"Woah." You mumble. "I didn't consider that."

"Yeah?" For someone so good at reading people, Tim sure struggled with reading you.

"I don't know." You frown. "Are you trying to swoon me? Or are you trying to get into my pants again?"

"Whichever one helps you sleep at night."

You laugh. "Using my own words?"

"You speak better than I do." He hums. "Do you want your hotdog first or later?"

"Later." You unlock your seatbelt, leaving the car. It looks awfully unassuming on the outside. Great for Gotham, you suppose.

"I'll push the cart." Tim holds his hand out for you and you take it, fingers wrapped in his. He lets go once he gets a cart, handing you his membership as you show the worker at the door. "Want a new iPad?"

"You know, I should make you buy Costco for me." You joke, patting his shoulder.

"Two hundred thirty two billion dollars? That's Bruce's money, not mine."

You snicker. "You have it memorized?"

"Stock trading for the company." He hums. "Stock is currently around five hundred dollars per stock."

"How the hell do you have time for schoolwork?"

"Coffee and an insane amount of self-discipline." He hums. "And revenge procrastination."

"At least you have some sort of weakness." You finally catch the drinks aisle, rushing in to find your green tea, Tim following behind you.

"I'll get it." He hums, reaching and pulling the green tea with ease, sliding it to the bottom of the cart. "Want anything else?"

"Can we browse?"

"Yeah."

You wander through the aisles, a comfortable silence washing over the two of you before you decide to speak up.

"Does Alfred need anything?"

"He's probably glad he has the house to himself for once." Tim hums. "Almost all of us are on a date."

You blink in surprise. "Even the youngest?"

"Except Damian." He hums. "Bruce is out too."

"Woah." You mumble. "The house must be quiet."

"Yeah." he hums.

"That did not answer my question." You pout.

"I texted. He sent a list." Tim mumbles, sharing the list. "You don't mind shopping for my family?"

"No." You smile. "I like grocery shopping with someone. It feels warm."

"Yeah? We're in the snacks aisle, so let's start there."

The two of you work your way through Costco, checking off Alfred's list of groceries, double-checking everything over when you finished. Tim grabs a rotisserie chicken for Alfred without it being on the list, and he grabs a tray of croissants, knowing Cass would probably want something sweet to snack on during the day. You text your friends to check if they want anything, and only one of them responds, telling you she's good. You have a feeling the other two are hooking up.

"Anything they want?"

"No." You smile.

"And you?"

"Just the green tea."

Tim raises a brow. "I'll feel bad if I only get stuff for my family while on a date with you."

"The tea is plenty." You beam. "I promise."

You help Tim unload the cart and then reload it, rocking on your feet as he swipes his card, not even checking the price twice, handing you the receipt as he pushes the cart out. The worker swipes the highlighter through the list, and Tim takes a right instead of a left.

"The car's—"

"Hotdog." He hums. "Can you get us two hotdogs? Card's in my wallet."

You take his card and get the hotdogs, tossing them into the cart as you hold the two paper cups.

"What do you want to drink?"

"What are you getting?"

"A little bit of everything."

"Then get me the same thing." He smiles.

You wonder if he's going to hate the flavor on his tongue. Though it's not your problem as you fill the cups, putting them in the holder as Tim pushes the cart back to his car, the two of you loading it into his trunk.

"We'll drop by my place first, and then we can drive to the next place I have planned." He takes the drink, straw in his lips. He blinks at the taste, eyes widening. "Wow. That's a flavor."

"Certainly is." You smile. "Like it?"

"Tastes like something Dick would have." He hums. "I'll push the cart. Get in the car."

You sit in the passenger's seat, opening your hot dog as Tim comes back.

"Ever had one before?" He opens his own, biting down.

"Yeah. My friends and I drop by pretty often." You hum. "Love the hotdogs."

"I should do that." He hums. "Alright. My house."

You chew on your hotdog as he heads toward his place, the music from your phone filling the car.

You wonder for a moment if Tim was actually into you. You have no doubt that you're important to him, but it was a little strange. You had slept with him before. What does that make you two? Friends with benefits? Friends who have slept together? Plain friends? A situationship? You chew on your bottom lip as he drives, mind elsewhere. Also, what were you with Red Robin? You can't call yourself a fan when you've had his tongue stuck down your throat before. There was too much to consider and ask. Maybe you should just ask Tim. (You don't, out of a fear of something. You're not too sure of what.)

When the two of you arrive, You help Tim sort the stuff into bags, carrying them to the front door as he unlocks it with ease, calling for Alfred and Damian to help with the groceries. Damian comes first, taking some of the bags from you, Alfred after him, showing you where the kitchen is.

"Thank you very much for running groceries for me, Master Tim." He nods. "You too, miss."

You smile. "No biggie. We were at Costco and I figured it'd be nice to do the groceries for you."

"It's very kind of you."

"Are you Drake's girlfriend?" Damian's next, eyeing you up and down, a scowl on his face.

"No?"

He frowns harder. "You deserve someone better."

"I really don't think—"

"Demon brat." Tim's voice comes out like a warning. "Don't tell my date to leave me."

"Is she not your girlfriend? I would have expected you to have already—"

"That's enough." Tim warns again, and Damian shuts up this time.

"Shall I prepare food for the two of you?"

"No need." Tim hums. "We have reservations."

"You made reservations? Do I need to change?" You follow after him, waving bye to Alfred and Damian.

"No. It's at the diner. It's Valentine's, which means there's twice as many couples there."

"Ohhh." You follow him into the car, sitting back down as he starts toward the diner again. "Is that all you had planned?"

"Also planned to take you home after this." He pauses. "My home. I was thinking we could use the movie room in the manor, granted none of my brothers get to it first. If that doesn't work, we can use the projector in my room."

"Are we gonna have sex?" You wiggle your brows playfully.

"If you want, I can have you screaming my name loud enough for Metropolis to hear."

You wince, looking to the side, embarrassed. "Holy shit."

"Expect the unexpected."

"I'm going to throw a milkshake at you for that."

"Cry about it."

The two of you get to the diner just in time for the reservation, your regular orders already memorized by the waiter. You're a little embarrassed, but you suppose it's not the worst thing ever. Tim finds the time asking if you enjoyed the day so far instead. You pull out your laptop as you wait for your order, continuing with the assignment due soon.

"Writing?"

"Yeah. Writing." You puff out your cheeks, fingers flying on the keyboard.

"What are you writing?"

You look up from your screen to stare at him. You don't say anything, but Tim gets the idea.

"Need a reference?"

"Actually," You lick your lips, scrolling up through the doc. "I'd like to meet Red Robin again."

"Your date's right here and you're talking about another man?"

"Writing fanfiction for him right now." You deadpan. "Need to know his kinks."

Tim coughs in embarrassment, forgetting how straightforward you could be.

"For a commission?"

"No. Out of curiosity." You pause. "I was curious to know what he would be into."

"Why not base him off of me?"

You raise a brow at Tim, swallowing thickly.

"Is this your way of telling me you don't want me writing fanfiction of other men?" You ask him one question, eyes asking another.

"Yeah." He smiles. "Yes to both questions."

You close your laptop when your milkshake and sandwich arrive, and Tim kicks you gently under the table.

"So what was the other question?" He raises a brow.

"I'll tell you in the car," You smile cheekily. Tim knows what the other question is. He just wanted to see if you were bold enough to ask him. The two of you continue with dinner, catching each other up with your friends' lives, smile on both of you's lips as the sun sets and the moon rises, Tim paying as he said he would. You take his hand into yours as the two of you walk to his car, and he opens the door for you, joining you on the other side.

"Before I ask," You lean over slightly, lips brushing his. "Can I have a kiss?"

"That's a question too, but I won't say no." He leans in for his lips to meet yours, hand moving to hold your face, tongue swiping on your bottom lip, darting into your mouth. You moan into the kiss as his other hand squeezes your waist, and you pull away from him suddenly, licking your lips for whatever taste of him was left. You grin at him cheekily, reaching to wipe the lipstick from around his lips, your voice lowering.

"The question I actually wanted to ask was if you were Red Robin." You grin, wiping the lipstick on a napkin leftover from Costco. "And I knew you'd read it off of me."

"How'd you guess?" He tilts his head at you, eyes still on your lips.

"First it was your perfume," You smile. "Then it was the way you kissed me." You pop the vanity mirror down, reaching into your hoodie for your lipstick. "Not to mention the way your forearms feel the same. Both of you have a specific way that you hold me when making out. I think that was the nail in the coffin."

You pucker your lips when you finish with the lipstick, tossing it back into your hoodie, closing the vanity mirror.

"So? Where are we headed now?"

"My place." He mumbles. "Have to have you."

"You could have me in the car."

"As much as I would like that," He exhales. "That would be very uncomfortable for you."

"Can I have you in the costume sometime later on?" You bat your lashes at him. "If you'd let me, of course."

"Yeah. Anything you want." His head thumps as he stops at the light.

There's a long, drawling silence before you speak up. You're scared, but you might as well ask.

"What are we, again?" You lean over slightly to stare at him. Tim notices you haven't put music on.

"If you'd let me," Tim licks his lips, "lovers."

"Then lovers we are."

The second time Tim gets to have you, he's so much gentler, fingers kneading the skin between them, curling them inside of you until you're a whimpering mess, worried that you'd wake someone in his family, his kisses assuring you that all of his brothers were out doing the same thing he was, wining and dining someone they loved, rooms also soundproof. Tim goes back to you after that, soaked fingers and sheets, licking your cum from his fingers, eyes locked with yours the entire time, pressing his lips to yours after he finishes. Your eyes roll back at how lewd he was being, but you suppose it's what the two of you deserve after flirting for so long.

Tim makes sure you're properly pampered in bed, your legs twitching after your third orgasm, begging for him to fuck you, tears in your eyes. How could he say no? Not when you looked so dazzling under him. He seems to understand something as he pushes into you this time, pausing to drink your form in, still as pretty as you had been before. This time, arguably prettier. You were so much prettier when you were crying about how you were his, cunt still oversensitive from your previous orgasms. Your face twists in pleasure, crying about how you were unable to take another release yet relenting as Tim drilled into you. You have no idea how he has the energy, and you're too tired to ask when he finishes.

You grimace as he peels you from the bed, setting you on the tile seat as he starts a shower for the two of you.

"I love you." You mumble. Not on accident or out of habit this time.

"How long?"

You exhale. "Don't remember."

"Approximation."

"Since I fell at your feet at orientation, maybe." You whisper into the mist as he helps you wash up.

"I love you too." Tim mumbles into your skin as he presses a kiss to where he had left hickeys.

"How long?" You repeat his question, staring at him as he stares down at you, moving the shower head to wash the bubbles from your skin.

"Since Christmas." He whispers back.

You smile at him.

"Since I told you I loved you on accident?"

"Yeah." He stops the water, wrapping you in a towel, drying you. You hum in satisfaction as he dries the two of you off, your fingers warm around his wrist when you grow tired.

"Can we sleep? I usually air dry my hair."

"Yeah." He presses a kiss to the crook of your neck, lifting you into his arms as he takes the two of you back to bed.

"What tag would you put on our story?"

"Idiots in love." You smile as you drift off, and Tim presses his lips to your forehead.

His tag would have been requited love.

[c0ld0utside]

Hello there,I am a new follower and I'm just wondering if your comfortable to write a Yandere platonic royal family and a male y/n, only if you're comfortable i don't wanna pressure you

Imagine - Yandere Royal Family 

Hi! Yeah, that’s totally fine! 

Yandere Royal Family with a Male kid

Warnings: Overprotectiveness, coddling behavior, manipulation, familial hatred

You are the youngest son of the royal family, consisting of your Mother, Father, Older Sister, and Brother. You’re the baby, the one who can do no wrong, Mama's boy, the one who has to be protected at all costs. Your Older Brother doesn’t need to worry about fighting over the throne with you, and he’d never dream of it! You’re too pathetic and sweet! 

…Right?

Yandere Princess Sister who’s the first to notice your sudden…”everything” change over the years. You’re quieter, you don’t play as much and you’ve started to distance yourself. You’re rude to her. Rude. You hate playing dress up and being cooed at by her and her friends during teatime. You’re usually the first to finish dinner and you quickly excuse yourself and hide in your room. 

Yandere Prince Brother who’s the second to notice. He doesn’t interact with you much since he’s busy learning how to be king for when he eventually takes your father’s place, but he has made time to hang out with you when he can. No- you cannot spar with him. Mom and Dad don’t want you to hurt yourself anyway. Why don’t we read a story instead? No? You used to love it when he read you stories- where is this coming from? 

He feels worried when you storm out of the room. 

Yandere Empress Mother who’s the third to notice. You don’t join her for tea or walks in the garden. You don’t sit with her in her office, talking to her about what you did today. Sure, it was usually repetitive, the same old “I read a new book and saw a pretty bird from the window,” but she didn’t mind. You don’t tell her your wishes or troubles anymore. 

You want to learn how to sword fight? No, absolutely not, you don’t need to learn how to fight at all. You’re safe here, anyway. No, you can’t go out into town without your guards. I don’t care if your Sister only has one, she’s much older than you. What do you want to go into town for? I’ll place an order for you. You want to go outside without me, your Older Sister, or Your Older Brother? I’ll have your guards go with you, then. 

Yandere Empress Mother who simply wants the best for you and wants you to be safe. If you won’t come to her, she’ll come to you. She’s surprised when your answers are short. “Why haven’t you been spending time with me anymore?” “Is it true that you’re being rude to your siblings?” “Sword fighting? Again? No, you can’t. Your father and I don’t want you to get hurt. …Did you just tell me to get out?”

After you slam the door shut, she stands there in a stunned silence. Did that really just happen? She has to process for a long time.

She takes a deep breath before heading off to speak with your father.

With your Sister and Brother.

Yandere Emperor Father who does a double take at what he’s been told. Was this really you they were talking about? He immediately demands an audience with you. Unfortunately, he’s not gentle like your mother and siblings. He immediately asks you if what the rest of your family said is true, and like the good child you are, you admit to it. He can’t help but feel a little happy and proud about that- you coming clean. It goes away when it’s clear that you aren’t sorry. 

“Why have you been acting this way? Don’t give me that, you’re still a child. Stop talking back to me. Don’t argue with me. When did you become so disrespectful? No, you’re not a prisoner, that’s ridiculous! We all love you and care about you very much. You don’t understand how devastated we’d feel if you got hurt. We just want what’s best for you, you’re too young to understand. Didn’t I tell you to stop talking back to me?” 

Yandere Emperor Father who confines you to your room for a month. It’s a hard decision for him to make- he hates having to punish any of his children. Meals are brought to you and you’re allowed to leave to use the bathroom, but the servants aren’t allowed to speak with you. 

Only your family can. 

It’s mostly your siblings and your mother, who you turn away each time. Rarely does your father stop by, lecturing you and trying to get you to see reason. When you don’t, he sighs and adds another month to your punishment time. Unbeknownst to all of them, you have a plan. 

Yandere Royal Family who nearly died on the spot when you’re not in your room. Your older brother is the one to discover you’re missing. It went like this: He “found” your favorite childhood storybook in his room. He had read you the stories so many times he had them all memorized. He felt a bit guilty for hiding it all those years ago, seeing that sad expression on your little face. But he made it up to you by telling you a story before bed. You didn’t need the book anymore, after all. You need him. 

He thought it’d make you feel better. Imagine his horror when he sees the makeshift rope of the blanket and bedsheets in the open window. Imagine everyone else’s surprise when they hear him shouting frantically. When they see him running through the hallways screaming about how you’re gone.

Several search parties are sent out, your family counting the seconds and trying to stay calm. Their panic worsens when you’re missing for days. Where did you go?! Why did you run away?! Did you run away? Did someone take you? That can’t be possible, you don’t know anyone except your family. Because they’re all you need. 

When you’re found, you’re dragged back kicking and screaming. At first your family is worried, thinking you’re shouting because you’re injured. But no, it’s because you don’t want to be locked up again. Especially with them. They don’t notice some of the pitying looks you get, especially from a certain guard.

The guard who they didn’t know let you escape. 

They’re too relieved to be angry at you for long, and your punishment terms have changed.

You have to stay right by their side for the day. Yes, and night, too. Isn’t that fun, though? You can watch your brother swordfight, dress up with your sister (you look amazing, by the way), talk to your mother and father while they work, and have sleepovers…

You spent the day with your brother today. With a loving smile and a kiss to your temple, he wishes you goodnight and closes your eyes. 

Not noticing that you stayed up a bit longer, eyeing his sword on the rack.

-

Wuh-woh, looks like Reader’s getting other ideas on how to get out. This was interesting to write! Thank you all for the love so far! I’ll try to update once a day, I don’t really have a schedule for my posts.

[wandixx]

I just realized that there is literally zero fanfics with Danny Fenton/M'gann M'orzz pairing and idk, am I the only one who see nearly endless potential in it?

I don't know how they met but they're probably pretty fast friends.

With Danny being space nerd, he would ask M'gann all the questions about Mars. At the same time, from what little I know about Miss Martian, she is "Earth nerd" and would ask him all the questions about Earth and what normal teenage life is like, because YL team is not the best study case. Like, only Wally and maybe Artemis (I don't know a thing about her other than 'snarky/blunt archer') had normal human life. He is happy to answer, introducing her to his semi normal life before accident.

They exchanged stories about stars from their respective homes.

Just imagine, Danny binge watching "Hello Megan" just to know what she is talking about and it's not his thing, really, but he learnt to enjoy it because he associated it with M'gann (we can have Jazz being fan too and feeling 'betrayed' because she tried to strongarm her brother to watch it for years and all it took was to cute alien girl to mention it and he is pulling all nighters).

Just imagine, M'gann asking one of her teammates (probably Robin) to teach her to play Doomed, so she can play with her halfa friend and his friends and not ask about every controller. They don't really mind her being newbie but sudden progress doesn't go unnoticed or unpraised.

Everlasting trio inviting her to Nasty Burger every once in a while to talk about random, not hero related things.

Rest of the YJ may not even know about Phantom. They just know about this Danny, M'gann's totally civilian friend, who likes milkshakes and video games.

They share their stories and tips about heroing and powers they have similar. Mostly M'gann shares things she learnt from her uncle or in Mountain because let's be honest, self taught is rarely better than someone with proper mentoring. She for sure helps with ghosts if they attack during her visit, even if Danny tries to shield her from it. "I'm supposed to be your civilian friend, am I not?"

She definitely does what she can to help with his hero PR. She may or may not accidentally convinced rest of the Team she has celebrity crush on underappreciated ghost hero from the middle of the nowhere. They help her, spamming all negative news reports with praises for Phantom from both hero and civilian accounts. It caused some mess, Justice League had questions but Danny was happy so it doesn't matter.

If we go with ghost being super emphatic we can have Danny overwhelmed by everyone's feelings (honest hate his parents have towards his hero persona, confliction of towns people, concern of his friends, excitement of Casper students idk, EVERYTHING) and M'gann helps him overcome it. Later both of them being there for eachother when everything was just too much. Y'know just this mutual understanding that nobody else can really give them.

Maybe some communication troubles because M'gann prefers telepathy and Danny does not like it in a slightest (Freakshow flashbacks or something) but tries to accommodate. Or M'gann doesn't even try because idk, one of telepathy rules is "don't read thoughts of dying person unless they project it to you" and she feels it goes for dead (even if only halfway) too.

They're just vibing with eachother.

Then there is ghost attack outside Amity and Team is send to deal with it. M'gann is surprisingly competent at dealing with everything ghost does while evacuating civilians while someone magic competent is called. Suddenly she stops, gets her phone and makes a call:

"Hey Danny, do you have a moment?" whole team is too shocked to react, because in the love of whatever they believe in, why is Megan calling her civilian friend in the middle of the battle with unknown entity. "It's [insert whatever ghost you want] wrecking havoc. Can you come by at take them to the zone? I don't have thermos on me right now. Thank you."

WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN?

Que Danny flying top speed to wherever she is, fights a ghost and contains them. Que someone (maybe Wally) being like:

"When did you wanted to tell us that your civilian friend is a hero?"

M'gann honest to god forgot that Team thought Danny was a civilian.

"I worked quite hard to drag her into as little of my Phantom bullshit as I could. I am proud of being a civilian friend, thank you very much"

They all came in contact together after that.

Martian Manhunter tried to give Fenton a shovel talk but boy was too excited to meet his favourite hero and to focused on not making fool of himself to be actually scared or something. He deals with Skulker on a regular basis anyway, there are very few threats that could actually scare him.

Team members also tried to shovel talk him, just in case. They all failed for one reason or another

Or maybe Danny is already YJ member. Everything above can still happen just without ghost attack. Danny can have issues with Zeta Tubes though. That's a good stuff.

There can be a drama of "I'm your friend only because I'm alien/semi normal, am I not?"

Or we can go with space obsessed Danny going full Vlad on cute alien girl. Y'know, because "that's a halfa thing to do". M'gann is not into that. I'm not really excited about this take but that's a possibility too.

Use it as you will. Just please someone write it

[cuubism]

Bookstore cryptid Dream part THREE:

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Hob squints at his phone, wondering how he possibly managed to set his phone language to-- is that Thai? What? Granted, he'd once set it to Japanese in an extremely ill-fated attempt to learn a new language, only to realize his error the first time he tried to drive somewhere and lost all sense of the nav. And then took three hours trying to figure out how to reset the language. Never again.

So how the fuck did he get it set on another language he can't even transcribe into Google translate to get to Settings?

He sighs, shoving the thing back in his pocket and resigning himself to a phone-less day. Sad, to be thinking of it like that. Once upon a time he could live without a constant internet connection, but no longer, apparently.

Then he gets down to the cafe, and the handwritten menu has been pencilled so badly it's illegible. What are they teaching kids these days if not decent penmanship? He'd have sworn the uni kids he'd hired to man the cafe when he's not there could read.

But he's supposed to open in about five minutes, so he leaves it for now.

The rest of the morning goes reasonably smoothly. Hob makes coffee and sandwiches while one of the hopefully-literate uni kids handles the orders--he finds the repetitive process of espresso-making soothing.

Then Dream comes in, and Hob takes over. It's his cafe, and he'll take the orders from his pretty goth "librarian", thanks.

"Dream," he greets, before Dream can say 'Hob Gadling' in his posh, solemn voice. "You going to let me make you something? Or just delivering another book? Because I'll be honest, I'm not sure I'm ready for another revelatory story from my past yet."

"I will accept coffee, thank you," says Dream, inclining his head. Hob punches it into the machine--he's already decided he's not charging Dream for anything, Dream keeps giving him free books after all--but he's got to keep inventory.

Or he tries to punch it in. The screen is all glitchy and scrambled, the words unintelligible, and he sighs in frustration. Damn thing.

Hob gives up, makes Dream coffee, and when he returns Dream does, of course, have a book for him.

"Simply a recommendation," he says, when Hob looks at it with some trepidation. "I think you might enjoy it."

Hob exchanges the coffee for the book. Looks at the cover. And squints in confusion. "Dream, I'm sorry to tell you this, but I can't read Arabic." Or whatever language. He's pretty sure it's Arabic, but he's not an expert.

Dream, for once, looks flummoxed. "This is an English copy," he says.

Hob opens the cover, wondering if maybe it's a translation inside--but nope, still Arabic. "I'm pretty sure I know English, Dream."

Dream takes the book back. Turns it over. Flips through the pages. Holds it by the spine and shakes it out. Looks at the cover again, then at Hob. "This is English," he says.

What this is is the dumbest conversation Hob's ever had. "Dream. Come on."

"Does it not look like that to you?" Dream asks. When Hob shakes his head, Dream sets his coffee and the book down on the counter and takes Hob's hand, dragging him out into the cafe proper. Hob, stunned, just follows him.

Dream pushes him down into a seat. "Read this," he says, and somehow procures another book, smaller this time, from absolutely nowhere.

Hob looks at it. "This is in French." He does know some French, but not whatever niche topic this is about.

Dream makes a frustrated sound. "Spell it out."

And Hob... tries. But every time he latches on a word, the letters.... change. Somehow.

"What," he says, though it's more of a squeak. "I swear to god I can read."

Dream takes the book back. "It's as I feared." Then, instead of explaining whatever the fuck he means, he asks, "Where do you live?"

"Um." Hob tries not to imagine Dream in his living space. "Upstairs?"

"Come, then." And Dream stands and drags Hob after him to the stairs in the back hall, as if he's the one who lives here and not Hob. He's very determined, and still hasn't explained a bloody thing.

Once Hob's let them in the flat above the cafe, Dream goes straight for the bookcase. It's still a bit of a mess--Hob hasn't entirely moved in--but Dream starts scanning the heaps of books anyway, running his fingers along the spines, flipping them over, restacking them in complicated piles. Hob just watches nervously.

Finally, Dream whirls around, a thin black paperback volume clasped in his hands. "I thought so," he hisses at the book. And then to Hob: "Did you get this recently?"

"Um." Hob thinks back. It's not one from Dream's shop, he still only has the two. "Yeah? Think so. Someone left it downstairs." The cafe has a shelf of borrowable books that people can take as long as they leave one in return.

Dream actually growls at the book. Hob's not sure why. It's just a book of poetry.

"Will you tell me what's going on now?"

"The book I gave you is not in Arabic, Hob Gadling," Dream says. "Nor French. You have been cursed."

Hob has... a lot of scrambly thoughts about that sentence. But the first that comes out is, "By a book?"

Dream nods. "It was planted in your possession by whoever left it downstairs."

"Why? Wait, what does it even do? Make things look like different languages?" Hob really hadn't thought opening a cafe was going to get him put on a magical hit list. Jesus Christ.

"It makes the written word unintelligible to you," says Dream. "Whether via a language you don't speak, or via simple recombination." Hob remembers-- of course. The phone. The menu board. "More a nuisance than a true threat to your person. It was meant to send a message."

Hob sits down heavily on the sofa. Cursed? Seriously? "What the hell kind of message, Dream? If you hadn't noticed, I'm running a cafe, not courting the occult."

Although. Maybe he'd like to be courting the occult. If that occult is Dream.

"A message to me," says Dream grimly. "I have enemies."

Hob can't help himself, he bursts out laughing. "You own a bookstore, how do you have enemies?"

"It's a dangerous occupation," Dream says darkly. He sits next to Hob. "I... am sorry. That you were drawn into it. A penalty of being associated with me."

He sounds sad now, not so much about the "enemies", but at the thought that his company might have brought Hob to harm. Hob lays his hand over Dream's where it rests on his knee. "Hey, it's not your fault. And you know, there's still audiobooks."

Dream chuckles. "I can undo the curse," he says. Which is relieving. "And I will destroy this." He sets the poetry book on the coffee table with a look of menace.

"You know, I haven't even read it?" Hob says. "Just the first few pages."

"It is very good," Dream says, to his surprise. "Hence its danger." Then he turns Hob's face towards him with a hand on his chin. Hob goes totally still in surprise. With his other hand, Dream taps his forehead, and a static shock jumps through Hob's body. "There."

A cloud Hob hadn't realized was covering his mind dissipates. "That easy?"

"For me." Dream stands again, swiping up the poetry book. He looks like he's about to leave, and Hob is almost reeling too much to stop him, but he manages to snag Dream's sleeve. "Wait, won't you stay and finish your coffee? And I want to hear about the book that's not actually in Arabic."

Dream gives him a tiny smile. "Very well. For a little while." He tucks the poetry book into the depths of his coat, and Hob doesn't see it again.

Hob shepherds him back downstairs, makes him more coffee as the other's gone cold, and hears all about The Golden Tree, a novel about a modern-day quest inspired by the Holy Grail. And nothing more about curses, though he is rather interested in that, too.

And in Dream. And his strange magic. And his serendipities.

But he figures he'll have time to learn more about that.

Especially if he's intent on courting the occult.

[golbrocklovely]

cultish love // colby brock

A/N: first off, so sorry for this being so late, i had a lot of things i had to edit about this fic. also this is my longest fic ever ! like the other fic before this, this is a AU version of colby… where he, you guessed it, is a cult leader. and he is also corrupt (but like aren't all cult leaders). again this deals with some possible heavy themes, so give a good read of the trigger warnings before reading ahead. i've always joked about colby being able to lead a cult, and that's basically where this idea came from. this fic also took a turn i wasn't expecting, but i like it anyway. also the first half is written as a journal entry (all italized) and then the rest is an actual fic (not italized). lmk what you think, and happy haunting !

prompt: you're a journalist, and your next big story is on the 'empathic love' cult, led by none other than colby brock. this cult is not known well, but you are getting a first hand look at them and what they do. and quickly, colby takes a liking to you. || fem!reader x AU!cult leader!colby brock

trigger warning: SMUT, no actual sex but you do get mentally fucked (it will make sense in the story), cult vibes all around, love bombing, cursing, supernatural powers, colby is very intense and kinda scary but also still his charming self, slight dubcon similar in vain to sam's story - you never say no outright, but you do have general feelings of 'wtf is this, idk if i like' so if that's too much for you, feel free to read something else :), colby's aura is crazy good at giving you visions, strangers-to-soulmates?? don't know if that's a tag lol, also…. colby's technically bisexual in this????? but like barely

word count: 8610

I've been a reporter for only five years, and this story.... it could make or break my career. Cults aren't as prevalent as they once were way back when. They still exist, just in the shadows. A lot quieter on most fronts. Usually disguised as a business or religion, for tax reasons of course. But this cult, Empathic Love, is unlike any cult I've heard of.

Of course, they don't call themselves a cult, but that's what they are. How else would you describe a bunch of randos following one man around wherever he goes?

They only started so many years ago, right before I graduated university. The main founder, Colby Brock, is a pragmatic individual, according to his followers. The cult began blowing up in my town a little over two years ago, and now people flock from all over the world to visit the Love Compound. You would think it's Disney World the way people grow excited about it.

But I am here to get to the truth of this cult. What is their motive? What are they planning to do? Will this be another Waco or Heaven's Gate? What sinister beliefs hide underneath the modern-day hippie aesthetic they show?

These notes will document everything I experience for the next couple of days. And in case I go missing, these are my proof of who's to blame.

I don't think it will go that far, but you can never be too sure.

~~~~

Day 1 - Investigation

I'm still incredibly surprised I was allowed to come onto the Love Compound. The leader himself apparently reached out to my boss and told them that they wanted someone to come down and interview the group. They allow visitors from time to time, "new recruits" as some of the townspeople call them, but reporters have never been allowed in. Not once. Until me.

Driving up to the compound was nerve-wracking. I never imagined I would be nervous; I've interviewed plenty of criminals in my years, have done full blown investigations into scary, horrifying crimes. But something about this place freaked me out. Partially because I didn't know what I was getting into. But another part of me, and I will never admit this out loud, felt... at home.

The only promise I made to myself was I wouldn’t drink any kool-aid while there. So, I plan to stick to that. Pretend my previous statement never existed.

I was greeted by a beautiful woman when I got there: Avery. No one went by last names. And some apparently changed their names altogether, which was not surprising. My guess is there were most likely criminals hanging out amongst the group. But I had no proof of that, just a hunch. It easily could be a safe haven for those wanting to escape whatever life they had before.

The compound was three Victorian style mansions connected to each other and had a decent size farm attached - about 222 acres. Avery told me about all of the vegetables and chickens they farmed. Everything was organic and used up as often as possible. Anything that couldn't be eaten or produced too much for the only 100ish people in the compound, was sold at the farmer's market or given away to the local food bank. Avery explained to me very clearly that everyone in the compound chipped in one way or another. Some still worked normal jobs, but just lived here with everyone. But she noted that Colby hoped in the near future no one would have to work at all and they would be self-sufficient in a couple years.

A cult with future plans? Almost unheard of.

I told Avery that I was given an all-access pass to ask anything I wanted to, and nothing I asked could be ignored or deflected. She agreed to an interview. I recorded all of it, but here are the highlights of what I gathered.

I asked her why Colby was such a secretive man. There were very few photos of him that did exist out there, but all that was rumored about him was his alluring eyes and generally attractive presence. She agreed that he was handsome, describing his as having "ocean blue eyes" and his voice was to die for. "Deep and arousing", as she explained.

I noted that she seemed almost lost in thought at the idea of him, like she was envisioning him directly in front of her. Strange behavior; but not for a cult follower. Many end up falling in love with their leader, believing they have a genuine relationship with said person.

I bought up the name of the group, Empathic Love, and said it felt a little too inviting. She laughed and told me that it was right on the money - the best way to describe why everyone was there. She expressed to me that so many of Colby's followers wanted peace and love and light, and that being in this group felt like that. It was rewarding to be surrounded by those that cared and wanted to see each other succeed. Life outside the walls of the compound was rough, scary, draining; but inside, it was all love.

Call me cynical, but I don't believe that for a second. It took all the strength I had to keep from rolling my eyes at her. But I could tell from her voice, her motions... she was telling the truth. Well, her truth.

I wanted to know what brought her here, so she spoke of her previous life. She was abused growing up, moved around a lot in foster care. She was almost homeless, and then one day she ran into Colby. He had just begun the Empathic Love group, and she just knew she had to stick with him. Her life immediately turned around the moment he was in her life. The adoration in her eyes told me a different story, so I pressed her - "are you and Colby... together?" She smiled and said no, but she knew that they were life partners before, just not currently.

Oh... so it's one of those types of cults.

She said that Colby doesn't have a second in command, wife, girlfriend, whatever. Everyone is equal and heard. He's just the face of the group, which is a bit ironic given even I have no clue what he looks like. I knew he was young, in his mid-20s. But other than that, no idea.

I needed to know, why stay? What keeps you here? A dreamy look came over her, like she had said this a million times before: "Colby. He is love, and that's all anyone could ask for."

Chills ran up my spine at the tone of her voice. It was dull, and her words sounded like a mantra, the way she said them so easily.

I wrapped up my interview with her, quiring if I was allowed to interview others. She said yes and began sending over random people one-by-one to me.

If I hadn't gotten chills from her first, I would have from everyone else. Something about seeing everyone saying similar things, smiling happily, like the ship isn't sinking around them was eerie. It made my stomach churn when I would ask questions I already asked Avery, and get almost the same speech back.

I interviewed about 15 people. All variety of ages and genders. I suddenly realized that there were no children around, and everyone was over the age of 21.

Consenting adults… minus the supposed brainwashing.

A couple of the interviewees stuck out to me:

Penelope, 25. Her upbringing was similar to Avery's, but she still kept in contact with her family. Apparently, she wasn't the only one like that either. Many still kept in touch and even visited their loved ones. I asked her to describe Colby, tell me anything about him. She giggled, almost like a schoolgirl, and began to weave such a story about him. He was kind and caring. His smile was contagious, just like his laugh. And his singing voice was fantastic. She talked about him like he was a boy band member, and she was his biggest fan. I asked her to give one word to describe him, and she said "Love. He is love, and that's all anyone could ask for."

Greg, 36. He had fallen into rough times, and desired a fresh start. He had heard about this group online, and figured checking them out while he was in town wouldn't hurt. And that was a couple years ago. I wondered why he didn't feel weird listening to someone that was younger than him, and he shrugged. It was nice not having eyes on him. He loved being in a wallflower, and he believed that Colby deserved all the love he got from everyone in the group. Every ounce he got was ten-folded back into the group. Greg had never felt so connected to a group of people and he knew it was all thanks to Colby. "He brought love into my life like I never have had it before. Because that's who he is: love."

Heather, 29. She mentioned how for most of her life she felt like shit. Her confidence was at an all-time low when she met Colby. He encouraged her to keep at it, to love herself and find happiness everywhere. And by spending more and more time with him, she did. She has never felt more confident about herself, her life, her direction, and Colby is the reason for that. The tone that took over her voice when she bought him up was odd. It was very similar to a partner describing the love of their life, almost like wedding vows. I asked her haphazardly about her love life, how that was going for her. And she told me she had been on many dates - something she never used to do back when she was younger or before Colby. But she did note that regardless of who she ends up with, she knows that a part of her heart will always belong to Colby. They were connected, forever. "Love and light and happiness is what I desired, and I got it - all because Colby exists in my life now."

It felt like I was getting nowhere with some of these interviews. Many said the same thing, Colby being love and light and blah blah blah. I wanted someone that wasn't gonna just quote to me whatever mantra he made them learn. And luck was on my side, because I was able to interview their newest member, Ash. They were 23, and very beautiful. There was an almost smugness about them, like they knew they were the shiny new toy on the block. The confidence only a young 20-something year old could have.

I asked them, point blank, about Colby. Be brutally honest. They told me he was hot, and that's what drew them to him. They liked the idea of living in a group setting, especially since they grew up with many brothers and sisters. They liked helping out, and they liked knowing that Colby was keeping an eye on them the most recently. I then followed up with how long it took for them to join the group. "Three days. That's how long it takes for everyone."

I questioned them about the "Colby is love" thing, and they agreed it was a bit strange, but they couldn't help but feel the same way as everyone else. They were like a moth to a flame when it came to him. Everything about him was hypnotizing, entrancing. It was like staring at the sun; even though you knew to look away, you just couldn't help it.

Then I had to know: were they sleeping with him? Most of these cults feed off of the leader fucking every person they wanted to and leaving other members high and dry. But for some reason, it felt as if Colby was sleeping with everyone with the way they all talked about him. Ash dissented, saying no one was sleeping with him. He didn't sleep with any of his followers. But they all shared a deep, sensual mental connection with him. They felt like, sometimes, he was in their soul. And that sensation alone was euphoric, bordering on orgasmic. They also knew that in another life, they would have been together, similar to what Avery said.

It was then I knew that this group was clinically insane, or just really infatuated by what Colby was selling. It had to have been some crazy brainwashing. But it was odd; people were allowed to leave, to see loved ones, to have lives outside of the compound walls. Hell, some had dating lives that included those not here! That's unheard of, and completely stupid on Colby's part if he wants to keep things going.

A cult leader that wanted to watch his world implode.... I had to meet him. I had to meet the myth that was Colby Brock. And tomorrow I get my chance to.

~~~~

Day 2 - Interview with Colby

I feel the need to explain that these are my notes, not really meant for anyone else to see. And really, the only reason anyone would be seeing this is if I disappear or got murdered.

So, I say all of that just so I know, for myself, that this is a safe space for me to express my truest emotions and thoughts after interviewing Colby.

And all I can say, honestly, is that... I get it. I understand it now.

I felt my nerves hit their break last night before going to sleep, unable to stop my mind reeling from what was to come. I ended up bringing along a bodyguard, or really a photographer. I had known Trey since I started working as a journalist, and I knew I could rely on him to get us out of the Empathic Love compound if anything went south. I wasn't sure what I was up against when I went to interview Colby, but God... I didn't think I was so underprepared.

I met him in his office, Avery walked me over to it. It was up in the attic of the third house. It overlooked the entire property with wide windows. For an attic, I expected it to feel dark and dusty, but surprisingly it was light and airy. Almost like being out in the woods and taking a deep breath.

Colby was sitting in his main office chair. He spun around to see us, a light smile on his face. I'll be honest - I was taken aback by his beauty. I understood Ash's whole spiel about him being attractive and looking at him was like looking at the sun. It was intense. He was intense. His blue eyes bore into me, almost like they could see through me. I felt chills, but they weren't of fear. It was out of... excitement, of awe.

He greeted me, giving me a warm handshake. I hate to admit that I almost blushed at the sound of him saying my name. I had to take a couple deep breaths before starting. Avery left the room, and Trey sat outside the door, in case of backup.

I recorded our interview, knowing that I couldn't keep track of everything he said. But listening back to it now, his voice.... it's like a song. A beautiful, spellbinding song. I could almost fall asleep to it....

I asked him about his life, and how he came to be a leader for a group like Empathic Love. He spoke of his upbringing lightly, barely scraping the surface. He talked about growing up pretty normally, having a loving family, a great friend group, and then one day realizing that he could make a change in the world. That many people loved him and loved being around him. And that's when he knew that if he could make their lives better, he would. So, he started Empathic Love. Originally, it was just gonna be a safehouse for those that needed it. But then more and more people joined and suddenly, it grew into what it was today.

I asked where his family was now. "In Kansas," he told me. He said nothing further than that.

He humbly spoke of all the love he received from his followers, or his "friends" as he put it. They all cared about him in a way that he only wished he could return tenfold. I questioned him about the whole "Colby is love" thing. "How come everyone says almost the exact same thing, like they've been brainwashed into saying it?" He didn't even trip over his words as he spoke matter-of-factly to me. "I didn't come up with that phrase, they did. You would have to ask them. I take it as the highest form of a compliment, truly. I'll be honest, it's a bit embarrassing at times when they call me that, but I can't help what they do. I appreciate their love, nonetheless."

I continued asking him about different topics, until finally reaching the one I was most intrigued about. "How many of your followers - excuse me - friends, have you slept with?" He smirked, smirked, at me and said "None. Did any of them tell you that we slept together?"

"No, but the way they talk about you like the sun shines out of your ass does seem a bit odd, don't you think?"

He looked unphased. God, he had an answer for everything. "I'll be honest with you, some of my friends might be in love with me. But I make it abundantly clear that while I love them, and love their love, I don't have feelings for them. I'm still looking for the one."

I remember holding back a glare, "So, you're celibate?"

"Now, I never said that." He let out a chuckle, then his eyes darkened. "Why do you care so much about my sex life? Unless of course, you want to join it."

I tried ignoring his gaze and his words but stuttered through my next question. “Then who exactly is the right one for you, if it's not one of your followers or friends?”

It took him a while to answer, he even closed his eyes for a bit. He sat up once he knew, sauntering over to his window that overlooked it all. "I imagine the one for me is someone that will bring peace to me and my life. Someone that for all my faults, can see who I am truly deep down. She will love me, and I will worship her. I will show her what true love feels like. Our souls will be one, because they always have been."

Something strange came over me. I don't know why I said it, but I uttered, "What about looks?"

Who cares about looks! Why did I ask about looks? I was a serious journalist, not a reporter for Star Magazine!

He looked over his shoulder at me, "Looks aren't that important to me. What matters is mind and soul. Who you are deep down. But if I had to pick… someone like you. I feel someone like you would be a perfect fit around here."

I wanted to give him the sassiest voice and rebuttal I could muster, but deep down I was shaking. Energy raced through my body, like I had been electrified.

He kept his back to me, staring out the window. “I'm not trying to be overly complimentary. I'm just being honest. But I can tell that you would do so well to have us around. To have... me, in your life. I bring a lot of love to people's lives, that's for sure. But I also bring a lot of drive, and passion, and intimacy.”

Intimacy?

“People open up when I'm around. They tell me everything, even things they never dreamt of telling another person. And I allow it, because clearly, they needed to express it. And once they do, it's like the floodgates open. Love and light just start pouring into them, into their life, and it's overwhelming - but so worth it. Doesn't that sound nice?”

I guess so...

“I bring happiness to so many. My friends have told me that they get jittery around me, I'm like a shot of adrenaline. And that energy, that power, courses through them. And when it gets expressed, it comes out in…” He took a long pause, turning back to me. The look in his eyes… I can remember it as if he was still in front of me. “Pleasurable ways.”

I hate admitting this, and it's embarrassing to say it even now, but I felt a jolt of... something, run through me. I won't even say what it was out loud, in fear of never being taken seriously again. But what happened after that, I don't know if words can even express it well.

Colby continued talking, but I couldn't pick up on any of it. He was talking up a storm, but I couldn't help the sensations I was feeling. Even in my wildest of fantasies, I've never felt anything in reality. It was all in my mind. But in that very moment, it felt like it was happening to me.

I felt lips tread up my neck, stopping just below my ear. A hot, low moan breathed into my ear. My spine tingled at the sound, my hands gripping the armrests of the chair. If I didn't know any better, I would think Colby was behind me, making those noises. My hands suddenly felt hands on top of them. My eyes widened, looking down, but nothing was there. I couldn't really move my arms once the invisible hands were there. My whole body felt numb and heavy, relaxed. My mind was the one on edge, worried as to why I was feeling all of this.

I hadn't eaten or drank anything at the compound. Maybe it was being poured into the room by the vents? I don't know, but something was making me feel this way.

The invisible hands drifted up my arms, massaging my shoulders for a moment. My head lulled back, almost hitting the back of the chair. My mind was on high alert, but my body was about ready to fall asleep. The hands relaxed me so much that my eyes began to flutter.

But then... they drifted down my torso. They traced along my neck gently, drawing small, insignificant patterns. The hands grew lower and lower until they finally were on my chest. I felt the hands cup my breasts softly, my breath hitching in my throat. They kneaded my tits gingerly, my nipples hardening in my bra. I bit my lip, praying that I wouldn't make a sound. It was hard not to, especially when the delicate fingers of these invisible hands found my nipples, gently pinching them.

I remember closing my eyes tight. Trying to clear my mind. This wasn't actually happening to me. There was no way. This was a psychosis or a drug hallucination that was happening to me and Colby was doing nothing about it.

One hand drifted down my body, stopping right above my sex. I suddenly became very aware at how wet I was, my eyes widening. I felt a rush of blood flow through my cheeks. I was about to get caught. These invisible hands made me wet, and I couldn't stop them.

And the terrible thing was, I didn't want them to. I wanted them to finish the job. To get me off... in front of Colby. One hand rose back up my body, grabbing my neck and turning my face to look up at him.

A deep voice whispered harshly, "You want him, don't you?"

I didn't say anything, afraid of what would come out. But deep down, I knew.

"Say it, and it's yours. Say you want him. And he'll have you... forever."

I opened my mouth. I felt the words almost leave my lips. I stuttered out something. I closed my eyes, my body feeling high.

And then in a split second, it was all gone. The room grew quiet, and Colby cleared his throat. "Y/N, are you okay? You look flush."

I jolted out of my seat, being able to move freely again. I looked around and realized Colby was sitting once more, staring at me concerned. I finished the interview abruptly, saying I had everything I needed - even though I definitely didn't. And then he uttered words I wish I didn't hear.

"If you want, come back tomorrow. We are having a celebration here. I would love if you came by, even if for an hour."

I nodded, not even really taking in what he said, and left. Trey was confused as to why I bum-rushed out of the room, but I never told him the truth. How could I?

I knew deep down I shouldn't have said yes to go to the party. But getting that footage would be killer for my article. Interviews are great, but a party at a cult compound? That's bound to end terribly (for Colby, but great for me).

But something in me can't shake this feeling that I basically signed myself up for the end. End of what? I'm not sure. But I'll find out tomorrow.

~~~~~~

Stepping back onto the compound made my heart race. I was nervous as all hell, and just wanted this day to be over with already. Today was my last day doing this story. I was counting the minutes to when I could go back to my office and write about how this place was insane, or whatever narrative I planned to write.

I had enough proof that something was up here. All I needed to do was a bit more digging. And during the party is when I planned to do it.

Avery walked up to me, smiling brightly. "Hey, Y/N! How are you doing today?"

"I'm okay. I know it's a bit early, but Colby never specified when the party was going to take place." I replied.

"No, you're totally fine. The party is gonna happen later. Right now, though, we have something going on that you'll definitely want to see." She clapped excitedly.

"Oh? And what is that?" I questioned.

"We are inducting a new member!" she exclaimed giddily. "There's a whole process that we do, and everyone is involved. I imagine that will bode well for your article if you see it firsthand. It's all taking place in that tent."

I stared over at the huge tent, its plastic cover doors strangely inviting.

I hummed, "Sure, I'll be there in a moment."

Avery nodded, turning on her heels and prancing over to the tent, following in other members.

"What's happening in there?" Trey asked.

"Apparently they are inducting someone new into their cult." I informed him.

He blinked. "Group, you mean."

I rolled my eyes, "Yeah, whatever. Make sure to capture as much as you can."

He shook his camera, giving me a wink, "On it."

We both walked in, many members still up and around, giving everyone hugs and chatting. Avery waved me down, patting the seat next to her. I walked over and sat. My body tingled in anticipation. I wasn't sure what was going to happen. My breathing picked up as everyone grew silent, the doors opening. Colby walked in, and people rushed to their seats.

Colby called out, "Hello everyone, good morning."

"Good morning, Colby." Everyone said in unison.

Jesus, that was creepy.

"A lot of things are going to be different today. First, we have guests watching our festivities. Y/N and Trey. Everyone, give them a hand." He gestured to the two of us.

The tent exploded in applause, Avery evening rubbing my back sweetly. It felt like I was being congratulated on something I didn't achieve, my cheeks flushing at the acknowledgement.

"And secondly, sadly, the new member we were going to have decided not to stay." He frowned, his face dropping.

Members gasped, some audible "oh no" echoed around the tent. Colby nodded his head sympathetically. “I know, but fret not. I think this will be a learning experiment for our new guests. We can still do our traditional motions of having someone join us. But, imagine it as if it's a mock ceremony instead. Ms. Y/N, would you please step up here?”

My heart stopped when he looked into my eyes, the first time since yesterday. I glanced at Avery, who grinned enthusiastically. She pushed me out of my seat, my body following her lead. I gazed around, finding Trey, who pulled away from his camera with a concerned look. I stumbled up the walkway, stepping on stage with Colby.

Colby lowered his voice so I could only hear him, moving away from the microphone. "I know you wanted to know about how we induct someone into our little home, so I figured why not use you as an example? We aren't actually inducting you, in case you’re worried. This is just what would happen if you were joining. Are you okay with that?"

I gazed around the huge, white tent, making eye contact with many people in the audience. They all looked so eager, waiting to hear my response. Some were even shaking with excitement.

I stuttered, feeling Colby squeeze my hands to bring my attention back to him, "I-I guess so."

"Fantastic." He turned, still holding one of my hands, "Alright everyone, you know the drill."

The crowd cheered, suddenly many lining up to a microphone at the side of the stage. Colby lightly pulled me to a cushioned throne, sitting me down. "So here's what's going to happen. People are going to come up to that microphone, and they are going to give you plenty of love. Genuine love. And then the next person will go, and so on until everyone has spoken."

"Everyone here? Like, all hundred plus of you?" I whispered.

"Yes. It's gonna be a while, so get cozy." He laughed, rubbing my shoulders.

Time felt frozen as slowly everyone came up and said something nice about me. Some were quick, mostly just commenting on how nicely I dressed or how the stories I had covered in the past were interesting and thoughtful. But others, it's like they could see into my soul and point out the exact thing I was insecure about. Everyone was complimentary and it was nice, but exhausting.

The line had dwindled down, and the next person to speak was Avery.

She stepped up the microphone, giving me a huge smile. "Hi, Y/N. I know we don't know each other that well, but I feel like I've known you my whole life. These couple days of getting to know you, being interviewed by you, have just been the highlight of my life. You are such a lovely presence to be around, and you deserve all the success you've gotten these last couple years."

Lots of people in the crowd nodded, agreeing with Avery. She continued, taking a deep breath, "I wanted to add - you are so deserving of love. You are easy to love too, and I hope that you are surrounded by people that make you feel that way. I know that this is just a mock ceremony, but I truly believe you would be such a great addition to us. I know you don't trust us, but I hope that soon you will find that you have a safe place here. Even if you never come back here again. This is your home now, and forever will be."

My chest heaved suddenly, tears welling up in my eyes. What the fuck is happening right now? Why was I crying at what she said? Sure, it was sweet and kind, but... how did she know I needed to hear that?

I turned my head, wiping the tears before anyone could see them fall. The crowd clapped as Avery left, going back to her seat.

The last couple people were a blur, my mind still hanging onto Avery's words. Suddenly, a hand was placed on my shoulder, jolting me out of my thoughts. I gazed up, seeing Colby's beautiful face staring down at me.

"The ceremony is done. Now, time to party."

~~~~~~

It had been a couple hours since the ceremony, my body feeling almost numb but jittery all at the same time. It was hard to shake all the love and words that were thrown my way today. Sure, some were probably just lying and saying random things because they had to, because they were conditioned to. But it freaked me out how some just... hit the right spots, knew my insecurities.

The party itself was fine. Two of the houses had parties happening in them, and since all three houses were connected, you could leave one and walk into another. There was a dancefloor full of people, and multiple fully stocked bars. Tons of food was at each table. It honestly looked like an adult prom. But I wasn't in a partying mood. Trey, on the other hand, was enjoying himself immensely. Girls and guys surrounded him, laughing at his jokes and bringing him plates of food and wine. One girl kept rubbing his thigh, staring at him longingly.

I wanted to leave. I had had enough of today, and I just wanted to be as far away from Empathic Love as I could be. I decided fresh air was what I needed, so I got up and slid out the back door of one of the houses, taking a deep breath. There were still too many people around, but I noticed the last house, the one with Colby's office in it, had no lights on and no one around it. I walked through the yards, stopping once I was by the back porch of the third house.

I sighed, leaning back against a railing. I could still hear the party going on, almost getting louder now that I wasn't there. I shook my head, feeling overwhelmed.

“Hey, Y/N. Fancy seeing you here." Colby's voice broke through my thoughts.

I exhaled. “Hi, Colby.”

He cocked his head, “Are you doing okay? You seem... upset.”

I felt this sudden rush of anger, knowing in reality he was to blame for all of this. “No, I'm not doing alright. I want to go home, I'm extremely overwhelmed by this party and all the people around here. That ceremony was too much for me to deal with, and the only way for me to get out of here is Trey and he's getting rubbed down by your followers!”

He took a step back, putting his hands up defensively. “Woah, that was a lot. You must have needed that release.”

I glared, “You think?”

“Look, I get it. It's a lot to take in. I myself don't love going to all these parties. It can be really overwhelming and if I'm honest, it gives me a lot of anxiety,” he admitted casually.

“You get anxiety?” I scoffed, “How? Everyone here loves you.”

“I know. That's the stressful part!” He sat on the railing, turning to me. “I'm the leader of this family. I have to make all the right decisions, and sometimes that means upsetting some of the people closest to me. Not to mention, so many eyes are on me, and it's just all too much sometimes. Even if you think this group is a cult, I still care for everyone here. I make sure they are fed, have a job, and have a life outside of here. And that's a lot to take on.”

“How do you deal with all of it, then?” I questioned.

“Patience. And a lot of alone time when I can get it - through meditation, specifically,” he laughed. “I was actually going to go meditate before I found you. Would you like to join me?”

I shook my head. “No, I'm good.”

“Are you sure? Look, at the very least, it will get you away from the party and all the noise. You don't even have to join me, you can just... sit in the room with me while I do it.” He argued, shrugging his shoulders.

I gazed at the party, everyone had grew rowdier while we were talking, and I didn't even notice. But my head felt like it was spinning from the noise alone. I sighed, nodding my head. Colby smiled, opening the door to the house, and I walked in first. I followed him up to his office, sitting down on his couch as he sat in the center of the room on the floor.

I raised an eyebrow. “That's where you meditate?”

“Yeah, I know it's a bit silly. But I feel so much more grounded... on the ground.” He replied cheekily.

I snickered, sitting back and watching him. He crossed his legs, resting his palms on his knees. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He took multiple breaths until they were low and shallow. I furrowed my brow, my eyes never leaving his form.

It almost seemed like he was asleep, or in a hypnosis of some sort. He was completely still and silent. A dull glow appeared at the top of his head, growing brighter and larger. I leaned away from him, my eyes widening at the sight. What the fuck is that...?

An aura grew around him, surrounding him completely. He didn't move, unfazed by it. His eyes remained closed, and with each breath it grew.

"How... are you doing that?" I uttered, my mouth a gape.

"Doing what?" He spoke in a monotone voice.

"That... aura. How are you doing that?" I pressed.

“I've always been able to do it since I was young. You can get closer if you want to.” He suggested.

How did he know I was still far away?

I stepped off the couch, moving closer to him. I kept my distance, but the aura was almost pulling me in. It was beautiful, the light reflecting and growing bigger. I was almost engulfed by it, but it stopped right before getting to me. I could feel its warmth, its energy. It was calling to me, beckoning me to step towards it.

The aura wrapped around me, filling me with light and love. Or at least that's what it felt like. I gasped at the sensation, my legs shaking underneath me. I breathed in deeply, my lungs filling up with fresh air. I didn't feel like I was in the room anymore. I felt like I was flying, the world almost zooming around me.

“Let your body relax, Y/N. I know it's so much to take in.” Colby’s calming voice spoke.

I felt my body give out on me, falling onto the soft rug. I laid down on my back, staring up at the ceiling. Visions began to swirl in my mind and around me.

How is any of this happening?

He answered, reading my mind. “Because of me. Because of us. Because of the connection you and I share.”

My body felt very heavy, unable to move even if I wanted to. I could move my eyes, and out of the corner of them, I saw Colby stand up. The aura remained around us, almost engulfing the entire room.

“You know, I knew the moment you stepped foot on to the compound's grounds, you were going to like it here. You were going to stay.” He smiled sincerely, gazing down at my body.

I blinked, confused. “What? I-I don't plan to-“

He cut me off, “This is the final step, Y/N. Everyone gave you love, people celebrated you, and now... I'm allowing you in.”

I wanted to shake my head, but couldn’t. “But I don't want to join.”

He chuckled, “Yes you do. If you didn't want it, none of this would have worked on you. You wouldn't be seeing what is directly in front of your eyes.”

The visions morphed around me, suddenly showing Colby and I. But we weren't us, we were different people, at a different point in time. But I could feel it was us. We were in love, growing a family together. Our lives were beautiful.

What the fuck is this?

“That is our past, or present, or future,” he winked. “The thing is, Y/N, I never seek out anyone. They all seem to find me.”

“That's not true, you emailed my boss about being interviewed.” I remarked.

"Oh, you are so forgetful, Y/N. You emailed us, begging to interview me and anyone else that said yes. I only agreed because I knew you wanted to meet with me. You sounded very eager to join in your email." Colby pulled out a piece of paper, reading from it happily, "Dear whoever reads this, I'm hoping to score an interview with your group, Empathic Love, for an article I am writing. I would love to meet Colby, and really pick apart his brain on why he created said group. Maybe I could even join if you guys win me over. Please let me know if any of this sounds of interest to you. Sincerely, Y/N of Global Gazette."

He leaned down, staring into my eyes mischievously, "Now does that sound like someone that didn't want to be here?"

My heart raced, suddenly scared. “Why don't I remember writing that?”

“I couldn't tell you. All I know is you wanted to be here. And there's a reason for it.” He sat down on the ground next to me. I wanted to get up and run, but my body stayed still, heavy. “Growing up, I realized very early on that certain people just... gravitated to me. A lot of women, yes. But really it was anyone. And not only did they gravitate towards me, they became obsessed with me. At first, I was confused, uninterested in ever going through that. Who wants someone obsessed with them? But then I realized how much good I could do with so many people rallying behind me.”

He continued, “As I got older, my ability, or power, or whatever it is - grew twice as strong. Suddenly, all the people around me followed me, did anything and everything I could ask for. Then, I began getting visions, and I understood why this was the case. Everyone here: we had a past life together. Their souls and mine have always been connected. They find me and then continue to stay. And almost always, they fall in love with me. It's just so glorious.”

“You're insane.” I mumbled.

He hummed, “Interesting, especially since you’re seeing the same things I am.”

It was true. The whole time he spoke, I saw vision after vision of our past lives together. We were always destined to meet, destined to be with one another.

“But the thing is, I know you're different from all the rest. You and I, we are meant to be together forever. You are meant to love me forever, and I am meant to love you. That's why my abilities affect you so greatly.” Colby divulged.

“What if I say no? What if I want to leave?” I grunted, trying to shake free.

“You've had the ability to go all this time. You just don't want to. You know how much love I can give you. You know how much pleasure I can give you as well.” He bit his lip, his eyes snaking up and down my body, “You've known that since yesterday, haven't you?”

Blood rushed to my cheeks, memories of yesterday played in my head.

“And do you know what’s crazy about that? That's not even half the pleasure I can give you.” Colby kneeled next to me, a devilish smile on his lips. His hand lightly brushed my face, cupping my warm cheek sweetly.

A burst of arousal raced through me, my body spasming in ecstasy. “Oh my God!”

“I know, it's a lot to take in. But I just want to make you feel good, darling. You deserve it.” He leaned in slowly, “You are mine, after all.”

"This is what your followers meant by a deep and sensual mental connection," I groaned, feeling hands all over my body, touching me in the most lustful of ways. "You got inside their heads and mentally fucked them."

“...That's one way of wording it. But if they didn't trust me, if they didn't already want me, it wouldn't happen.” He winced playfully, “So in reality, it's your fault.”

“Fuck you.” I growled.

“But baby, that's what's happening,” Colby laughed darkly. “Those hands, those kisses and bites... that's all mine. I can tell you're losing it. You want me real bad, but you don't want to admit it. I get it, you’re overwhelmed.”

I felt like my body was getting electrocuted with pleasure. My hips grinded into the air, needing some form of relief. My nipples strained against my bra, wanting any form of touch. I closed my eyes tightly, embarrassment rolling through me as I felt my damp panties against my sex.

Fuck, he was right. I did want this, and him.

I didn't even need to say it out loud. Suddenly I felt a cock slid inside of me, too easily from how wet I had become. I ripped my eyes open, looking around. Colby was watching me from his chair, smirking.

He palmed his hardening dick through his jeans. “Imagine how much better it would be if I was actually inside of you, filling you up with every. fucking. inch.”

I thought about screaming Trey’s name. Maybe he could help me.

He grimaced, rolling his eyes. “He won’t do anything for you, sweetheart. He joined our group just a couple weeks ago. Right around the time you sent the email. So really, you have all the more reason to join us.”

“Even if I join this cult, I will never stay here. I will leave here and never come back.” I hissed.

“And that is your choice to make. But Y/N,” his gaze lowered at me, his eyes intense. “You will never be satisfied. You got barely a taste of what I can offer you, and you're gonna want it forever. Just like everyone else here.”

“You're a- fuuuuuucckk!” I moaned, the cock inside of me hitting my spot deeper. I caught my breath, glaring at him. “Y-You're a freak.”

“Says the girl almost coming to my invisible dick.” He spat, clenching his jaw.

I bit my lip, annoyed at how right he was. The hands exploring my body gripped my ass, slapping it lustfully.

“Okay, okay. I'll agree with you. I am a bit of a freak of nature. But let's not act like I'm some monster. I let people leave. But they always come back because they choose to. I can't force people that far. Pinky promise,” He stuck his pinky out, and I rolled my eyes defiantly. He huffed, “It's not like this place is Scientology, for Christ's sake. We are love. I am love.”

“You are the most tainted form of love that I've ever met.” I retorted, gripping the rug to hide my building arousal.

He deadpanned, “Ow. That hurt.”

Colby strutted over to me, laying down right beside me. The pleasure grew more intense, my hips bucking desperately. His one hand hovered over me, never touching me. It didn't matter, because having him this close felt like his whole body was on top of mine, fucking me hastily.

“If you allow yourself to enjoy this feeling, you might actually come. Because I won't force you to. I'll just keep you here, for hours, riving in pleasure until your brain melts into goo.” He smirked, “How's that sound?”

"I-I hate you." I gritted my teeth. Why did I feel like I was lying?

"No you don't. But soon you'll be able to admit the truth." He leaned his mouth in close, his voice low and sincere, "I know that this place might not be what you imagined your home to be like, but it is. You will always have a place here. You will always be loved here. And I know that's what you want deep down. To be loved unconditionally. To have every fiber of your being satisfied. And if you let me, I will do that. I will please you every night, however you want me to. But for me to do that, you have to let me in. You have to let love in."

The cock inside of me pounded faster and faster. I could barely think anymore. The only thing on my mind... was him. The lives we had together, the life we could be having. I knew I shouldn't want it, but I did. I wanted him in my life, forever. He was what was missing, and I couldn't live one more day without him.

I mewled loudly, my hips thrusting up erotically. Colby's hand cupped my face gently, turning my head to look him in the eyes.

His alluring eyes stared deep into mine, his jaw clenched. "You will always be mine. I am love, and that is all you could ask for."

"You are love, and that's all I could ask for." I repeated mindlessly, grabbing onto his arm desperately.

His face softened, “That's right baby. You're such a good girl for me. My good girl, forever. You want that, don't you?”

“Yessss, please Colby. I want to be yours forever.” I keened.

"You will be. I promise, you will always be mine." His eyes darkened, the pupils almost completely blown out. "You will never leave."

"I won't!" I trembled, my orgasm building closer and closer to the edge.

“You wanna come, Y/N? Get close for me. Don't I feel so good inside of you? You like when I do this?” Colby's hand snaked down my body, rubbing my clit sensually.

I begged wantonly, dying to come. "Pleaseeeeee! Please let me come! I need it! I need you."

"Of course you do, baby. You and I need each other. Our connection is unlike anyone else's. Tell me the truth and I'll let you come." He leaned in close, his lips brushing against my ear, "Tell me, baby. Say it..."

"I love you," I cried out, right on the edge. I direly wanted him to say it back, knowing it was already the truth.

“I love you too, baby,” he smiled sweetly, kissing my cheek. “Now, come for me.”

Hot, white pleasure shot through my body. I had the strongest orgasm of my life, my mind shattering as I rode every wave of pleasure that went through me. Colby stayed by my side, shushing me as my high lowered down more and more. He kept whispering 'I love you' repeatedly, my mind unable to hear or think anything else after a while.

I blacked out at some point but awoke when my body was lifted off the floor and placed softly into a bed. “Wha... happenin?” I slurred.

“Relax, darling. I just brought you to my bed. Well, our bed now,” he chuckled. “I want you to get your rest because tomorrow is a big day for you.”

“What's tomorrow?” I murmured.

“Your introduction to everyone as my soulmate.” Colby informed happily, tucking me in. “Everyone will be so pleased that you changed your mind about joining us.”

I nodded my head, snuggling deep into his bed. He dimmed the lights, whispering softly, "Welcome home, Y/N."

[gepardling]

I saw your blog and I love your writings sm🫶 Glad to see a fellow Gepard simp (JGKFKRJSHA HE'S SO HOT)

Going to my request, if you are fine with smut requests, is it okay for me to request husband!Gepard and spouse!gn!reader, featuring breeding kink and manhandling? It's up to you how you want to write how the story goes, surprise me 👀

Anyways, make sure to take care of yourself as well, stay hydrated, and thank you sm!!

happy anniversary w/ gepard.

desc. : im so srry for my mini-hiatus, my schedule is spaghetti ;p my mind was lowkey still buzzing abt the museum event, n i needed a good hook for da story okay !! to me, marriage means becoming a family, so i used dat to set the scene :) am also working on improving gn!reader smut so i hope i did good here ( wc : 1.9k )

tags / cw : nsfw, gn!reader, pretty fluffy i think, oral, unprotected sex (wrap it b4 u tap it!), top!gepard, bottom!reader, aftercare, manhandling, breeding (I HOPE I DID THESE RIGHT, I'M SUCH A VANILLA PERSON), not proofread !

Gepard couldn’t help but wonder if he was cut out for fatherhood, given his past encounters with children. It seemed that whenever he interacted with little ones, they either burst into tears at the sight of him or found themselves quickly bored by his serious demeanor. As such, he had never entertained the idea of having a family of his own – not until he met you, at least.

You had a habit of taking Gepard’s entire world and turning it upside down, making him question everything he thought he believed up until that point. This wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, and he quickly found himself drawn to your open-mindedness. Spontaneity was something that Gepard lacked in his life, and you delivered everything he needed and more. 

It wasn’t long before the two of you had married, and everyone knew it was a long time coming. No one could soften up the strict Captain like you could, especially when you manage to catch him off guard. Just the other day, Gepard's heartstrings were thoroughly scrambled when he saw you guiding a group of children through the museum. The way you handled the kids was beyond Gepard, and you taught history in a way that they understood, even enjoyed. 

After another one of your museum shifts, you and Gepard were relaxing at home. It was the evening of your first anniversary, having been married for a year. Gepard was immersed in a book, your head rested on his shoulder as you arranged your thoughts. Which is what brought you to this point. Here, in your shared home, you decided to finally raise the question. 

“You know,” you began softly, your voice carrying a mixture of wonder and uncertainty. “I can’t help but imagine… What if we had children?” Gepard’s demeanor instantly shifted, a fleeting tension washing over his body. Sensing his unease, you hurriedly backtracked. “I’m sorry, you don’t want to… And that’s okay!”

But before the words could fully escape your mouth, Gepard’s reassuring touch met your hand, his eyes filled with warmth. “No, not at all,” he assured. “You simply caught me off guard…” There was an excited tone to his voice, but some uncertainty still lingered deep beneath the surface. 

A sigh of relief escaped your lips as you absorbed Gepard’s response. “I think it would be amazing,” you uttered, a dreamy lilt decorating your tone. Gepard’s fingers gently traced the wedding band adorning your finger, and he was instantly reminded of your wedding, how radiant you looked as you stood before him. The image of you, eyes filled with unwavering devotion, etched itself permanently in his heart.

Your gentle laughter caressed his ears as your hand cupped his cheek, pulling him back from his daydream. “Don’t worry, we can wait until you’re ready,” you replied, softly pecking him on the lips. “There’s no rush, after all.” But between your gentle touch and his devotion towards you, all this family talk was getting Gepard a little hot beneath the collar.

He was sure you were aware of it too – your touches growing tantalizingly slow as your lips lingered longer and longer on his. With that same old mischievous glint in your eyes, you took the book from Gepard’s hands and set it on the table across from you. You snaked your arms around his neck, gently shifting yourself into his lap.

"What are we still sitting out here for?" You whispered, forehead pressed against his own. "It's our anniversary after all." Gepard's hands slowly came to rest on your hips, a rosy hue spread across his cheeks. You brought your hands down from his neck, opting to work open the first few buttons of his shirt. Dipping your hands beneath the fabric, Gepard shuddered lightly at your cold touch.

He moved his hands from your hips to your wrists, gently gripping them. "Not on the couch," he breathed. Of course, same old Gepard. That's one rule that's never changed for the whole three years you've been with him. You gave him a quick peck on the nose, followed by a mock salute. Gepard smiled in return, uttering "Your form is off," before scooping you up in his arms. 

Your surprise was quickly muffled by his lips on yours, his kiss filled with love and devotion towards you. He made quick work of whisking you off to the bedroom, lightly tossing you onto the soft mattress of your shared bed. You could barely sit up before he was leaning over you, covering your body with his large frame. 

"We're not on the couch anymore, are you happy?" You teased, smiling up at him mischievously. Gepard only rolled his eyes in response, lowering his head to kiss you once again. It was deeper this time, only growing more heated as your hands continued to undress him. Before you could undo his belt, his grip on your wrist stopped your ministrations. 

"Allow me," he replied, moving to undress you instead. He wedged his knee between your thighs, pushing them open before laying between them. He kept his arms wrapped around your legs, preventing you from closing them again. When he dipped his head between your thighs, you could only gasp at the feeling of his mouth on your heat. 

Gepard had more than enough practice over the last few years, and that much was evident. His skilled tongue worked across your sex, rolling over your most sensitive parts. The sensation of his hot mouth caused little stars to spot your vision, nails gripping the sheets so tight you were sure you'd rip them. Your gasps were like music to his ears, only fueling the fire deep within. 

His slicked fingers worked you open, gently scissoring your hole. Your back arched at the feeling as Gepard carefully prepared you, sparks of pleasure dashing across your body. But as the buildup started to reach its peak, mere seconds before your vision could go white and the fires of release consumed you, the sudden loss of his fingers and mouth left you cold and empty. The sensation immediately dissipated, fading into obscurity. 

Your breathing was ragged as your body attempted to come to terms with the orgasm you never had, blinking away the stars that dotted your vision. "W-Wait," you whispered, raising yourself onto your elbows. "Why'd you st-" But just as the words were about to leave your mouth, Gepard had turned you around onto your stomach, hand resting on your upper back. His free hand hurriedly worked to release his cock from the confines of his pants, as he pressed gentle kisses to the skin of your shoulder blades. 

Before you could complain again, he sunk his member deep into your heat. The weight of his body suspended above yours only added to the pleasure, slowly thrusting in sync with the rhythmic contraction of your walls. Each thrust was coupled with the soft grind of his hips, slowly working you back up to your pleasure point. He took his time, butterfly kisses dotting the back of your neck and ears. 

"Gepard…" You sighed, to which he replied with a soft hum. While you sincerely enjoyed his languid pace, you needed something more to soothe the ache in your loins. You pressed back against him, breathing a quiet “Faster,” to which he replied with a chuckle. Gepard slipped two fingers between your lips, hushing you with quiet whispers. 

You swirled your tongue around his digits, the cool metal of his wedding band contrasting the warmth of your mouth. When he pulled back his hand, a small whine escaped your lips, but your breath soon hitched in your throat as he suddenly increased his pace. He kept his hand pressed down on your lower back, preventing you from bucking back against him as he took you at his own pace. 

The way his cock slammed into you left you gasping for air, brushing against your deepest pleasure points. The heat was rising exponentially, drawing the knot in your belly tighter and tighter with each thrust. Gepard’s lips met the back of your ear, gently pressing kisses to the side of your head. As your cries intensified, you buried your face in the closest pillow you could reach, desperate to muffle the throes of your passion. 

But Gepard didn’t like the way you tried to hide, and he was quick to swipe the pillow from your hold. He pulled out in the process, and you whined at the sudden loss of contact. The heat from your core dissipated once again, and your orgasm fizzled out of reach a second time. Before you could make your disdain known, his hands gripped your hips to turn you around onto your back. 

At your gasp of surprise, his hands met your knees, pushing your thighs up against your chest. He buried himself back in your core, and the roughness of his actions made you wail into your palm. Gepard lowered himself to your face, prying your hand away with his own to clash his lips against yours. You reciprocated the kiss, interlocking your fingers with his. He swiped his tongue against your lower lip, to which you opened your mouth, your tongue meeting his. 

When he pulled back, your lips chased his, breaking the delicate string of saliva between you. Your chest heaved as you tried to regain your breath, tiny tears dotting your vision. You felt like you were melting in his hold, the heat of the moment escalating far beyond your limits. Your sighs were like music to Gepard’s ears as he made love to you, consummating your marriage a second time.

The hand from your thigh moved down to your abdomen, pressing into the skin to feel the way he moved inside of you. He gripped your hand tighter, slightly increasing the pace to chase his orgasm. His cock glided effortlessly, bruising your deepest parts as you sang him praise. The pressure rose even higher in your core, building on your previously denied release. 

Amidst his passion, Gepard managed to grunt out a quiet “Where do you want it?” ghosting his lips along the side of your face. You managed to compose yourself just enough to answer, barely squeaking out “Inside,” before another moan tore itself from your throat. Gepard’s hands came to rest on your thighs again, burying himself impossibly deep in your core.

The sensation of his load warming you from within sent you over the edge as well, whispers of his name escaping your lips as your nails dug into his arm. Sparks of electrifying bliss enveloped your body, walls clenching around his cock. Gepard rode out his high, gently grinding his hips against yours. His lips met yours again, this time kissing you much softer than before. 

When he pulled away, some of his cum dripped from your core. You finally released your iron grip on his hand, sitting up to meet him at eye-level. “Why don’t we go get cleaned up,” you asked, your hand cupping the side of his face. Gepard hummed in approval, turning his head to place a kiss on your palm. 

“I think a bath would do,” he spoke, pulling you off the bed and into his arms. Though you weren’t really sure how much cleaning you’d actually get done. All in all, any time you got to spend with your beloved husband was a win in your books.

(melts) i saw a ballet concert, had my hair done, went out w/ my dad nd played league wit my friends. nun of these activities allowed me 2 write my smutty smut dis week waahhhh hopefully back on schedule now :') i tried 2 write dis extra long as an apology, also referenced multiple online sources 4 gn!smut 2 attempt 2 educate myself........

[mystmesstolemysoul]

What if MC had no choice but to reset? What if, after enough cycles through each story, they know exactly which night they'll go to sleep next to their love then wake up all alone with a text telling them to go to an address they already know by heart. What if MC was cursed with repeating the same events over and over again, falling in love but never getting to grow beyond a certain point with the love of their life?

(lil drabble below the cut. There's a little bit of reset theory sprinkled in, along with a smidge of reference to a song I think goes with MysMes perfectly)

Which guy I'm talking about is intentionally vague so you can imagine your fave <3

Angst with a happy? bittersweet? ending

Not proofread, I don't have time for that shit, sorry lol

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

The first time it happened, it was jarring. A panic setting in as you woke up, back in your old old apartment, no sign of him anywhere. Had it all been a dream? Surely not.

Then came the text, and it all came flooding back. What was happening?

You were less fearful this time as you walked up to Rika's apartment, even knowing all that you did now about the mysterious circumstances that had brough you here.

When they, the RFA, your family, greeted you as a stranger, it stung in a painfully nostalgic way. Had they really forgotten all about you? But it wasn't that; they hadn't known you in the first place.

You did some things differently, this time around. You gave more attention to one of the members that you'd brushed off the first time. Confusion clouded you on day five when everything began to drift away from the story you remembered. Despite this change, your new bachelor managed to sweep you off your feet, though you always felt guilty whenever he, your lover from the first time, called or texted. You felt guilty having to push him away to stay loyal to your new man.

You had almost forgotten about that jarring day when everything had reset. Almost. Until it happened again. You were more prepared this time, but felt almost exceedingly empty as you read the text asking for your help. You wanted to ignore it, to stop this toying with your heart. But you knew you couldn't stay away from the RFA. You were bound, heart and soul. So you did as 'Unknown' asked.

You began to dread it more and more each new route, never knowing when you were going to wake up alone and start the cycle all over again. It became numbing. Heartbreaking. But you could never stay away.

Eventually, you'd seen every possible way it could end. There had been a time you'd hoped to find a road that wouldn't end. A path that wouldn't lead to you waking up alone, forced to greet your closest friends as new strangers. But you'd long since given that up.

You'd seen every success, every possible failure. Felt every swell of new love, every shattering heartbreak. Made friends, made enemies, just for it all to be washed away.

There was a time when you'd begun to intentionally run everything into the ground. It was easier to repeat random 5-day loops than to go months, years, before having it all ripped away from you. But bringing them heartbreak hurt you more.

You were careful now. So careful. Especially with him.

You could never bring yourself to be careless with him. You didn't know why, but after a while, he began to stick out to you more than all the rest. No matter which path you walked, he always caught your eye. The way he said things, his way of thinking, how he tried to look out for you in his own little way.

So you pursued him. You'd won his heart before, many times, but you did it again with a purpose. You knew it wouldn't last. You knew one day, you'd wake up and it would all be over. But you loved him. You really loved him. And when the night came that you knew would be the last, you tried desperately not to sleep. But it was as if some curse took over you, forcing your eyes to close. When you awoke, it was all gone.

But you wouldn't let that stop you. Again, you followed him, your north star, your guiding light. Again, you won his heart. And again, you woke up. It was the third time when you noticed something different. Just a moment. A spark. A faint look in his eyes when you saw him face to face, some wondrous shock, as if he couldn't believe you'd chosen him. More than that usual look in his eyes when he saw you for what you believed to be his first time.

But the look wasn't enough for you to say something. Not yet. But a fourth time, you chose him. Then a fifth. Till finally, on the sixth time through, he gave you a look as if you'd gone insane, and he loved you for it. You'd asked without thinking. "You remember, don't you?"

He hadn't had to speak a word for you to know the answer. You knew him too well. He woke up alone, the same as you. And you loved him fiercer. Again and again and again, determined now to always choose him. No matter how repetitive, no matter how painful, you couldn't choose anyone but him, knowing he'd have to watch you fall in love with another man if you chose any other path.

When the fateful night settled in, wrapped up in each others arms, you were silent. You both knew what this night meant. When the daylight comes I'll have to go. You felt his tears trickle into your hair. "I don't wanna start all over."

And you didn't either. "I know, baby, I know." You held him so close, promising, "I'll choose you. I'll always choose you." And you meant it. You'd never be able to make it through now without him. You had him, now, and you weren't letting go.

And when the daylight comes I'll have to go, but tonight I'm gonna hold you so close, 'cause in the daylight we'll be on our own, but tonight I'm gonna hold you so close.

[tarjapearce]

How can you describe miguel mentally and emotionally ?

Oh man... This is a tough one. I'll start by saying that, even though we saw a glimpse of his mindset on ATSV, we still have sooo much to learn and know about him. (We just had it for 15 mins. jsksk)

I did this thing a while ago, focusing mostly on his grieving that addressed the rest just superficially.

I won't say I know him better than anyone cause

1. No. Characters evolve and I feel it'd be disrespectful af to just reduce him to a couple of traits or claim that I know him better than I know my nipple jsksk.

2. He's a complex character that is so well written that makes us all go psychoanalysing his behavior 🤭. (And love me a man that puts me to think)

But jokes aside.

He's emotionally unavailable. Simple as that. And though it might sound obvious to some, (And our savior complex kicks in and tell us to fix him 👀 yeah, I'm talking to us jsksk) there's no way we can do that, cause that's up to him ~. (And you can't help someone that doesn't wants to be helped.)

Healing takes time. And guess who overworks himself to the point of having his cortisol running 24/7 through his body? Miguel. He doesn't have time for therapy. His fear of watching it all go to hell once more is a too fresh wound. Some traumas last decades, and naturally people find ways around it without interacting with it directly to avoid reliving such impairment.

(I do appreciate the fact that in the new comic book, we see him trying to make amends with Conchata though. He's trying!!! :D.)

2. He's a patient man. I mean, he recruited after all versions of Spiderman that have this trait in common: They're perceived as friendly. And they're mostly young adults and teens. (Both are a handful btw. And most stories and comics Peter Parker is depicted as a 18-23 year old)

But they like pushing his buttons, (cracking a joke every 5 minutes, doing whatever they want even when specific orders were given) however. He doesn't strike me as someone that is mean on purpose, he's just wary but not totally closed off towards people. Wich is kinda contradictory on its own since:

You don't go around trusting people first hand upon just knowing them, right? 👀. But at the same time he showed Miles his own canon event, trying to empathise with him before dropping the bomb. (He was mentally preparing him, something he wasn't able to get but to experience the worst way)

A hypocrite truly. And not in the bad bad way (He calls a nerd the NWH Peter yet he is one) , cynic to an extent (Since he keeps repeating he's been the only one trying to keep it all together, meaning he still doesn't fully trusts the people around him.) A showoff (Did you see the way he turns towards Gwen when he first appears? Or the way he says "I was gonna do that") , arrogant to also an extent. ("It's much more cooler than a watch").

He took the job as a leader cause he knew none else was gonna, and if there was another one willing to assume the role, I'm sure he'd be dissatisfied with it's development cause our man likes to feel safe in when he's in control. (A trait often met in people with generalized anxiety)

And when he's not, his brain immediately goes into threat mode, but even so is able to adapt. (I have a theory he learned this the bad way. We've still got to see the origins of his Rapture intake though 🤔)

Now, we know this man is emotionally unavailable, through and through. His love is work. And married to it.

Now, I might get a bit controversial after this and some might not like it, but I don't think he wants another family after that. (We don't know much about this Miguel's background or family except that he was looking for things, and he found Gabi's universe. And for you to look into another universe in need to be happy says enough to imagine his family or is non existent or is really messed up.)

I know we want him to be happy, (And the producers better give him some healing and closure or else.) Cause he deserves everything. But grieving doesn't work like that. A loss like that is unmeasurable, it changes literally your brain chemistry forever. The least appropriate thing you'd do is have another kid or someone after such event.

(I've seen what that is an it's not nice. Specially for the involved kid)

But we're all ill here so Thank goodness fanfics exist ❤️

He allowed himself to be selfish enough to be happy, had his fun but consequences caught up to him. Consequences that he didn't know and now has him perpetuating his guilt and mind berating.

Hence the workaholic attitude, the coldness. He's done with establishing something with people in general, not just someone special. He's done of getting trampled by life, so he sticks with something he knows he can do very well and pours into it. The Multiverse is his hyperfixation.

Keeps him busy, keeps him on control but curiously and contradictory again, it keeps him needed and useful.

He's a walking contradiction. He doesn't need people to watch over him, not cause he doesn't deserves it. He knows that people worry about him, that's why he just minds his own thing to not be a burden.

Self-Sufficient, over achiever (Alchemax CEO & Spiderman, a genius, bilingual, probably more languages on his list cause he leads a multicultural and multidimensional task force babes ~)

He's not bad, he just doesn't know how to direct his anger or allows himself to feel properly and often rationalises his feelings. (Another coping mechanism where you're tired of feeling stuff and justify difficult or negative with logical thoughts)

But again, curiously knows how to communicate. I know it's fucked to say when he threw a trash bin to Miles before that. But! Hear me out.

Retaking the previous point, he was preparing Miles to give him the talk. After he throws the trash bin, he knows that anger won't solve things (Even though he wanted to give some chancla spanks to Miles for being an anomaly) So he chills, and you can see the transition between being completely furious to a more emotional approach. (Parenting surge there.)

He starts explaining everything from scratch, (literally with drawings and stuff) so Miles wouldn't be lost on what he was on about. Then they moved to the canon events, and shows his major trauma to him as a sign of empathy and an invitation to honest talk.

He admits he doesn't like what he does, and if you look closer his face is so damn distressed when locking Miles in the trap. It pains him, but again, someone has to do it, yet none is scarred enough to bear the burden.

I just want to hug him and send him to therapy. Cause he needs it. (Pretty sure he gave up on that too cause it was too time consuming.)

I'd be satisfied if the writers gave him that ❤️. But yeah. That's one of my many takes on him. Hope it helps c:

[thisoneblackjacket]

🎬 NOW IT'S TIME FOR...

Eddie's notes hour!

I just wanted to take a closer look into all of the notes that we see on Eddie's desk within the hidden video + some input/speculation on them

...

1. Starting with the gift list:

I went into it a bit in a previous post, but I think(?) I now have the full list down (w/some help from others from that post) :

Julie - Chimney Cozy

Frank - Bug Catching Net (?)

Wally - Apple

Howdy - Calculator

Poppy - Doilies (still unsure about that one)

Barnaby - Bones (?)

Sally - Mirror

I will say that these gifts seem very fitting for everyone, but between the few questions marks next to some of the gifts, along with Eddie's doubts about Julie's and Frank's gift in the vid:

Sounds like Eddie HIMSELF is unsure if these gifts will work. It has the same vibes as trying to shop for someone that you sort of know the interests of, but not much else

Which sort of amplifies that he isn't the closest to any of the neighbors (seemingly he only gets to interact with them when they need something from him), so this might play more into the theme of Eddie being alienated from the rest of the neighborhood

...

2. Moving on to the grocery list:

Okay so I'm still struggling w/a few words, but I think it goes as follows:

Grocery (I think?)

Envelopes

Pencil

Construction Paper

Paper {Lined} (I think?)

Eggs

Milk

I don't have too much to say here, but it is a bit interesting that Eddie has to buy supplies for his own business from Howdy. I always figured that another reason why Howdy disliked Eddie was because he might have sold his own paper/stationary items at the post office, hence competition, but maybe not

...

3. It's TIC TAC TOE time!! ❌⭕

Now I am not about to begin to try to count how many games he played through that you can see on the screen (you can't make me!)

BUT, given the scoreboard:

Eddie (his left, I'm guessing the ⭕s): 4...?

Eddie (his right, I'm guessing the ❌s): 14

That's at least 18 games by itself, can you imagine how many if you included the draws ?!

Poor Eddie...

But listen - I'll end this post with something that has been scratching at me - Tic Tac Toe as a potential symbol in the story

Now I don't know HOW significant Tic Tac Toe is to WH, but I think it is significant.

Does anyone remember this post back in October, during the Halloween update? The one where OP had put this one tic tac toe game over the map? (go check it out)

I really do think that's a solid lead towards something big, and it was actually one of the first things that popped in my head when thinking back to this.

But even if it turns out it isn't, Tic Tac Toe has been showing up from time to time via drawings/surroundings, which is already enough to at least consider it moving forward

So here, while it makes sense in context as to why Eddie is playing the game a bunch in the video (waiting around for someone to show up with nothing better to do), and all this can honestly be a stretch, but to have him specifically play THAT game, after its been shown to pop up that often...makes me suspicious for sure...

...

Either way, this has been...

Eddie's notes hour!

(seriously, I'm not good at making title names)

[thestrawberrygirly]

romanticize your life🍓🍰

⋆｡‧˚ʚ🧸ɞ˚‧｡⋆

𝒈𝒊��𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒗𝒂𝒍𝒖𝒂𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒚 𝒃𝒊𝒕𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒊𝒇𝒖𝒍 𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆. 𝒕𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒂 𝒎𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒇𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝒑𝒂𝒄𝒆𝒅 𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒆 𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒚 𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒍𝒅 𝒂𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖. 𝒍𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆, 𝒑𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒆𝒇𝒖𝒍 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒂𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝒂𝒖𝒓𝒂. 𝒃𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒇 𝒊𝒎𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒆 𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒖𝒊𝒏𝒆 𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔. 𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒏 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒎 𝒊𝒏 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚 𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒖𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒐𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒎𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒊𝒎𝒑𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒍𝒚 𝒍𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝒃𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒈𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒑𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒓𝒚𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒖𝒑𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒇𝒖𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒆. 𝒕𝒓𝒚 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒃𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒍𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒕, 𝒍𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆, 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕'𝒔 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒓𝒖𝒆 𝒎𝒆𝒂𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒇 𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒊𝒔𝒎 𝒐𝒇 𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒊𝒏.

~ let's learn about how to enjoy the little moments of your life in few major points ~

🌷art of living a slow life🌷

learn to do nothing at times in your daily routine without getting bored. do not touch your phone or any electronics you own, just try to feel that moment of life by silently sitting under the nature listening to the little insects talking to eachother or quiet wind trying to communicate with you. ground yourself feeling the mother earth loving you. sitting under a tree helps you get positive energies flowing in your body, hugging a tree also cleanses from all the negativity you might have carried from other bodies and it converts into positive ones.

rest your body giving yourself some time to recharge yourself. hustling isn't always a solution of chaotic life, give yourself some time for selfcare and embracing the simplicity of slow pace life. show gratitude towards what you already have in the present moment and love your life.

🌷journaling is important🌷

owning any journal can actually change your entire life. build a habit of writing about your day and your feelings in your daily journal, it not only improves your precious mental health but also keeps you away from mindless scrolling in your phone.

if your mind goes blank by the time you pick up your pen like

"what should i write in my journal?!"

then i got you girl!!

don't stress your mind thinking of writing perfect story of your life, do not think about mainting any aesthetic of your journal. simply just start writing about your day, write about the tiny parts of your day which made you feel good, may it be the group birds flying towards the west or clouds trying to chase you. if you feel like to not write anything at that moment then just doodle whatever your mind imagines. i'm sure your mental health gonna be healthier and your life will be improved. you will literally start loving your life and yourself.

🌷 flower selfcare 🌷

treat yourself like a fragile little flower, water yourself with all love and care for yourself. wake up early in the morning like 6 am or 7? and open your windows let the fresh air hit your body and your environment. clean your room with a bright mind thinking with all positiveness. take a cozy shower and do your beautiful skin care. drink enough water daily to make your skin glow. move your body, do pilates and also stay still for 5 minutes or so being calm going in your meditative state.

go on a walk especially in early mornings, it will make your mind fresh and you will love the early morning atmosphere I swear. reading books also helps you think widely and positively, learn to add the habit of reading any book (non academic ones) daily. one important thing I would like to add is forget the need to always be doing something; it's completely okay if you didn't worked anything important today, it's completely fine if you rested today, give yourself some rest.

🌷 be calm 🌷

have patience, do not get triggered

learn that no one can trigger your emotions without your permission, be calm and think about only yourself not caring about what others are trying to feed you in your mind. become your own positivity and don't ruin your aura.

"becoming less reactive is a huge part of growth and decreasing stress. if you let everything get you worked up. you're damaging your mind, body and spirit."

neurologists claim that whenever you resist acting on your anger, you're actually rewiring your brain to be more calmer and loving. also being calm makes your mind find solutions of every problem that might occur. just trust yourself and love the calmness. being calm also makes you 10× more attractive so.......just don't think much, got it beautiful?

make your life like a movie! snap nice pictures, feel like the star, light a candle, read books, take walks, dance to your favorite tunes, treat yourself, do what makes you happy. It's your life, own it, and don't let anyone steal your joy!

- 𝘫𝘯𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦 🍓🧸🍰