#christ at least I caught it before I posted it

[dittomander]

ohh nnnnoooOOOOOOOO

oh my god i fucked it up

I got so caught up in the euphoria of fixing the desk problem that it completely slipped past me that I wrote a chapter with Gabe in it during a time where he ISN'T EVEN IN THE COUNTRY

OH MY GODDDDDDDDDD

[heartbeetz]

The idea of Bob being all excited to tell Kenzie about his kiss with Kelly is soooo cute to me btw. Like he was always a fan of Kelly's radio shows (he talks about it in a few different stories) and Kenzie DEFINITELY knew he had a fan crush on the guy (and was fully supportive of it ♡), so I think it would make a lot of sense.

It's ESPECIALLY funny for me to think about him going over to Kenzie's place after getting rescued from the power plant and being like "KENZ KENZ KENZ I KISSED HIM. also I was kidnapped and tied up so some crazed fans could pump me full of so much electricity I ascend and become their god or something idk BUT MORE IMPORTANTLY I KISSED HIM"

And Kenzie's just like. ??????????????????????

[heavenbarnes]

Hiii, I just devoured your older bf!simon posts and I got this one brainworm

So, he hasn't figured out how to make albums yet in his gallery, the first time he passed his phone around to let his team gawk at your photos, he had accidentally left one of HIS photo

Imagine the team scrolling through his gallery, drooling at your photo in skimpy outfits, various state of undress then BAM, the hottest dickpic of their L.t. appeared on screen (courtesy of your instructions ofc)

I just think it'll be A Thing™, like, obviously they know Ghost is hot, probably also know how big his dick is, but seeing it presented like that? Some of them definitely moaned. And I bet Simon noticed, probably will start leaving a few of his own photos in between yours, as a treat for the boys.

(Feel free to ignore this if this isn't sth you're comfortable with 🫶🏻)

this is fucking insane i’m going to wet my pants- thank you for this idea you’re a genius 🫶🏼 | effective continuation of this

the 141 would like to enter your older bf!simon’s phone into the museum of natural history for its significant contributions to peace keeping efforts.

if that phone hadn’t been in this safe house, there would be far more destruction in their wake. it goes without saying, really.

what you will say is, whilst his phone is the metaphor- it’s really you that’s giving the opposition time to breathe (limited, their time will eventually come)

the dining table was small, when you had four hulking great men around it the thing looked minuscule. room temperature beers in front of them, it’d taken at least three bottles each for the first to speak up.

“c’mon mate, put us out our misery”

obviously their captain would take one for the team and go first, eyes locking with simon. without being able to see his mouth, it was hard to tell but price was pretty sure that was a chuckle (he hoped it was)

a quick rustle as simon shoved his hand in the pocket of his tactical trousers, retrieving the battered android and laying it in the centre of the table.

bated breathe, you could’ve heard a fucking pin drop as they all watched him unlock his phone. one long finger hovering over the camera app before he pressed it, an almost collective sigh of relief emanating through the house.

simon couldn’t and wouldn’t organise his phone, apps always open in the background, unorganised on his home screen, not a fucking photo album in sight.

photos heaped together in the one collective mess. it was very possible to be looking at an old receipt one minute and then the small of your back with cum across it the next.

majority of the photos were you, and not always filthy. simon couldn’t take a photo to save his life but the ones of you always looked breathtaking.

if you asked him, that’s just what you always looked like.

however, the 141 weren’t there for photos of you smiling as you pet a friendly dog. they were there for the kind of photo simon was just about to pull up.

sat on the corner of the bed, photo taken in the long mirror against the wall. thighs spread and one hand playing between them as the other held your phone next to your pouting lips.

gaz was the first to state the obvious.

“jesus christ, mate”

simon didn’t even blink, finger swiping through the next photo.

on the bed on your knees with your chest pressed to the mattress. looking back over your shoulder with a fucked out expression as you practically gave your ass to the camera.

the unmistakable sound of johnny shifting in the seat to his left caught simon, adjusting his cock just out the corner of his eye.

photo after photo, full nude, lingerie, simon’s shirts, just the bed sheet. with every one that passed, the beer was soon forgotten about when the buzz they got off you was unmatched.

the sweet glow that seemed to radiate off you filled the otherwise dim place the men had been hold up in. photos beginning to blur into one until-

the photo was taken from mid-thigh, simon somehow looked even bigger from this angle. shirt lifted enough to show his scarred stomach but his balaclava stayed on. exposed eyes staring down at the camera as his large hand wrapped around his equally large cock.

dead silence speared straight down the middle by a moan, pathetically covered with a cough. simon pretended not to notice the accent, left the phone in the centre of the table.

nobody could look away, it was physically impossible to tear their eyes off the sight in front of them. had they ever seen one that big in real life?

“fuckin’ell L.T, what’ya doin’ w’all that?”

they all knew simon had a big cock, you could tell by looking at him- the way he walked. if you’d ended up in the showers with him on base and seen it soft you’d even know.

it was unmissable.

but seeing it like this? looming over the camera at this angle, practically eclipsing the natural light, his thick fingers just closing around the base. this was something else.

you were quite the artistic director.

nobody wanted to be the first to say what the other was thinking. allowing the silence to fill the space only broken by the occasional sound of someone adjusting their trousers.

simon didn’t need anything to be said, he knew what he had and he knew the effect it had on- anyone really. he simply sat back in his seat, spreading his thighs wider and ignoring the occasional glance that fell on him when he did it.

finally cutting them loose, simon swiped to the next photo- back to you with cum streaked across your face. throats clearing and murmurs arising from the group.

“that’s real nice”

“would y’look at the fuckin’ state a’that”

“what i wouldn’t give”

simon grunted in agreement, eyes flickering around the table with a feeling invisible growing in his chest. a feeling that he wasn’t used to but didn’t- mind?

he didn’t think too long, he couldn’t think too long.

those photos would just have to become part of the regular.

[cranberrv]

video games!

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ in which you and dallas get caught kissing

( a/n : i haven’t posted in 4ever, so im sorry this is super short but i miss posting n wanted to get smth out! adore this request xx )

the burgundy of buck merrill’s thunderbird reflected across the lake that hugged the highway. you and dallas winston are driving to the nightly-double, the local drive-in that both socs and greasers go to. usually, you two would walk, but due to construction you had to take the long way and go on the highway.

you never loved when dallas drove on highways. you knew him well enough to know that he was not the best driver in the world, and he loved to go fast. so on the highway, he drives like a maniac!

you’re holding onto his hand, and his other hand is on the wheel. dallas is swerving past cars, going inbetween lanes, and basically doing everything you shouldn’t do. you elbow him when he almost bumps into the back of a car once you reach traffic.

“christ, hate fuckin’ traffic,” he scoffs and honks on the horn.

you roll your eyes playfully. “don’t think honking will help, dal,”

“whatever, man,” he sighs and leans back. his little moment of rest doesn’t last long, though. he glances at you, sitting there peacefully, unbothered by the traffic. he doesn’t understand why you are so easygoing. “we’re gonna miss the fuckin’ movie,” he groans and smacks the steering wheel, annoyed.

“dally, it’s fine,” i say softly. “didn’t wanna watch a horror movie, anyway,”

“‘course you didn’t,” the edges of his pretty lips form a gentle smirk. “you fuckin’ pussy,”

“excuse me?”

he lifts his hands up in mock-surrender. “hey man, i said what i said,”

“you’re a jerk,” you respond, crossing your arms and pretending to be mad.

if there’s one thing about you and dallas, it’s that you two tease each other endlessly. well, more him towards you. but he can’t help it! that little pout on your face is just so cute, in his mind.

“y/n, i was joking,” he says, even though it’s blatanly obvious. “what, you actually mad or somethin’?”

you decide to go along with the bit, amused that he’s almost believing you. with a shrug, you keep your arms crossed and look out the window.

“c’mon, man, tell me if i did somethin’,” he insists. “don’t need to give me the silent treatment,”

you continue to ignore him, a smile crossing your face that he can’t see. he can be so gullible sometimes. he acts all tough and he’s always telling people that nothing can touch him, but the minute that you pretend to be mad at him, he’s practically at your feet begging for your attention.

“you want me to turn this car around? this movie is gonna be no fun if you’re mad at me,” he sighs, kicking himself for calling you a name. “at least look at me, man,”

the minute you turn your head to look at him and tell him that you’re joking and you love him, he doesn’t let you talk when he grabs your chin and kisses you.

you could say you’re surprised, but you’re not. dallas isn’t one to apologize, showing his endless adoration for you through stuff like massaging your shoulders, hugging you, kissing you, buying (or stealing) you a new necklace.

the two of you get into it too fast. you kiss him back after a few seconds of registering what’s happening, getting your pink lipgloss on his lips as you reach to grab the back of his brunette hair and pull him closer. the cigarette in between his calloused fingers burns out, and he throws it out the open window before reaching for your hand with the one that’s not holding your chin. he leans more into the kiss, trusting that you forgive him for what he said — even though you were never mad in the first place!

he pulls a millimeter away as he catches his breath, his gorgeous voice filling your ears as he whispers, “you forgive me now, doll?”

you smile and can’t hide the soft blush on your face as he whisper to you. even though you’re dating, it still feels like you have a silly girly crush on him, going pink at the most casual of words. “was never mad at you, dal,” you whisper back.

he’s about to say something, probably about how annoying you are, but you stop him before he can, bringing both your manicured hands to his cheeks and pulling him back in to continue kissing. a soft chuckle from him vibrates your kiss, he loves it when you initiate the kiss. in his mind, you’re just too cute.

but i guess you weren’t cute in the cops eyes. cars honking is all around, but you assume that’s just from this super annoying traffic. news flash, it wasn’t. the traffic is long gone, whatever accident that happened earlier was cleared up, but the two of you were still in the middle of the 6 lane highway, kissing in the thunderbird.

a cop car stops beside you, coming to speak to you. the minute you hear the deep voice echo from outside, you jump and pull away. dallas sighs and mutters something about you being a “prude” for ending the kiss so soon, until he realizes that the cop is there.

“hey, lovebirds,” the cop greets you. he doesn’t look very happy. “you’re blocking the entire highway. you know it’s illegal to stop on the highway?”

dallas gives the cop a side glare, raising his upper lip in annoyance. “yeah, we know,” dallas says harshly. “we ain’t stupid,”

“winston,” the cop groans. great, your boyfriends name is known by some random cop. “you wanna go in the cooler again?”

“you’re seriously wanting to put me in the cooler just because i’m lovin’ on my broad? huh?”

“go love on her somewhere else.” the cop says. “come on, son, you and your girl are holding up the traffic. off you go,”

“unbelievable,” dallas whispers under his breath, then he steps on the gas and drives away. a sea of cars follows. you were holding up a lot of people just by kissing.

it’s safe to say that when you got there, you didn’t catch one word of the movie.

[fiddleleafedfig]

@wolfstarmicrofic | April 23:rd Teacher AU | Also inspired by this incredible post | 971 words

“It’s because I’m gay.”

Dora’s words had echoed in his head for the better duration of two years.

Two years.

Jesus Christ.

It sounds more clear now that there isn’t an ever pressing haze of alcohol clouding his brain. But alas, he frankly can’t afford to be an alcoholic anymore. He wasn’t even that good at it. A bottle of wine every evening and Remus just turned into a weepier version of his otherwise quite bleak self and watched old rom-coms on tv until he fell asleep on the couch.

But an English teacher’s salary isn’t hefty enough to really support a proper addiction and Remus hadn’t ever been the type of person to steal a car or break into someone’s house just to fuel his habit. With his luck he’d get caught right away anyway.

“This can’t come as a surprise, Rem, we never even had an active sexlife.”

Sure, fine, maybe they hadn’t. But they had been married for years; university best friends turned adult lovers and confidants turned married at twenty five and divorced at thirty three.

The divorce had at least been simple, easy, just like anything else about their relationship. One second she was there, dying her hair in the tub and staining it all bubblegum pink — the next she was moving out and downloading lesbian dating apps.

Remus munches salad from his little packed lunch. He should be planning his classes whilst having lunch — he refuses to, he’d rather sit here all bent-backed and pretend that the salad actually tastes better, that he isn’t regretting moving across the country to get away from it all. That his new life isn’t sinking his mood just like the old one did.

There’s a knock on his classroom door.

Remus looks up from his sad salad. “Come in?”

The door, covered in prints of Shakespeare plays and old illustrations of Of Mice and Men and other English class classics, opens to reveal the knocker.

Sirius has his hair in a bun today, black strands tied back and into a scrunchy that could rival the cheekiest of cheerleaders’. Other than that he is in his usual all black attire, all except his rainbow colored lanyard which holds his keys and the miniature periodic table keyring.

Sirius smiles. It’s all gray eyes that look like they’re sparkling under the hideous fluorescents and can make even the toughest lunch lady blush.

“Hi Remus, is this a bad time?”

Remus tries to swallow the tightness in his throat.

He can’t really deal with Sirius popping by like this, he’s done it quite frequently since Remus’ first week.

“No, not really,” he says, trying to keep his hands from fiddling and his eyes from darting around the room. “What can I help you with?”

Sirius shrugs, careless and relaxed. “I was just wondering if I could borrow your stapler. Seems like mine’s wandered off.”

Sirius drives a motorbike to school.

Remus saw him get off it in the parking lot not too long ago. It felt like the world stood still or maybe moved in slow motion when Sirius removed his helmet and shook his hair out, kitted out in leather. Then his neck got all hot, for some god forsaken reason, and he had to go splash cold water on his face before facing his students in the first period.

So many of Sirius’ supplies have gone missing in the short time where they have worked together.

“Erhm… Yeah, sure— absolutely,” Remus stumbles through sentences as he stands to go fetch the stapler in the supply closet. He turns the little key and quickly looks over the closet, a bit too aware that Sirius is coming closer; if he isn’t misinterpreting the scuff of boots on the floor.

He grabs the stapler, turns around. “Here.”

Sirius is right behind him, right in front of him now. Looking up at Remus with his easy smile and rows of lovely black lashes and… and… and pink lips.

“Thanks, I’ll give it back as soon as I’m done, okay?”

“Yeah…”

Sirius leaves. Remus has to go sit down, he’s feeling dizzy.

“Are you even attracted to me, Rem? I mean— it’s fine if you aren’t. Maybe I’m not your type or something.”

There was always something hidden in Dora’s words, at least in those words. Remus hadn’t come any closer to figuring them out, not even two years later.

He just sits in his darkening apartment, playing those words over and over whilst watching-but-not-really-watching tv. He should really go over to Sirius’ classroom tomorrow. You know, just to make sure he remembers to give the stapler back. And it has absolutely nothing to do with what Dora said those years ago, nothing at all.

In the following morning, Remus dresses in his good shirt and wrestles with his hair for a touch longer than usual. Why? Don’t worry about it.

He goes into work with a determination and anxiety churning in his belly.

He walks up to Sirius’ classroom, a print of Neil deGrasse Tyson on the door, and knocks.

Deep breath.

Sirius opens the door. Light eyes and smiling lips and an overall undeniably beautiful face.

Stapler, that’s what he’s there for.

“Will you go out with me?”

What?! No!

Remus was supposed to ask about the stapler!

Fuck!

Sirius just looks back up at him, glittering eyes and widening smile. He doesn’t say anything.

Remus tries to backpedal. “The stapler — I really need my stapler, that’s what I meant.”

Sirius just smiles. “So I just missed the point two second window of going out with you?”

There’s cotton in Remus’ ears, ringing in his brain. “No— I mean… Wait— Did you want to go out with me?”

Sirius’ smile looks like it’s almost too big for his face. “I thought you’d never ask.”

[aheathen-conceivably]

Somewhere on the other side of downtown Strangerville the town’s shopfronts pettered off into the desert, and an old road led through stone buildings falling to the sands of time. Like everything else in this town, Jo figured they had been toppled by the wind and the air; but the people who lived there knew better.

It was just as far from the farmhouse as Jo was willing to walk in heels, although not much further from the bar than her own house was. The fact that she could now call it her house added some spring to her step, even if she had no plans for it to remain that way forever. But for now, it was at least enough to anchor her to her promise to Gio, and the knowledge that she would be leaving it in less than 24 hours made every sight and sound more appealing than ever before, especially since she was there to pick up her ticket out.

Not long after Jo had agreed to her father’s offer, Val had approached her with a smile like she held a secret or had somehow already outwitted Jo in a game she hadn’t even realized they had begun to play.

From the depths of one of her pockets she had fished out the keys to a 1932 Ford Roadster, laughing at Jo’s confused face. Almost as quickly as she had produced them, Val had tucked the keys back into her pocket where they most likely rarely saw the light of day, then explained that the car was Jo’s if she needed it for the tour. All of Jo’s subsequent questions were met with simple shrugs or smiles, so when she approached the house the day before they were set to leave she was still surprised to see Val actually leaning astride the car she had promised.

Before either of them could say a word Jo’s eyes began to wander the scene in front of her. None of it was anything like she had expected. The car was sleek but sturdy, modern and flashy, and utterly at odds with the woman using it like a simple fence post in the desert. Behind it was a small white house with bright shutters and a daring red door, juxtaposed against dilapidated wooden shacks flanking either side of it. Jo didn’t quite know where to look or what to take from the whole scene, so her eyes lingered on the rocking chair on the front porch and wondered if Val ever sat there near sunset.

Val caught her curious gaze and crossed her arms, “What? Were you expecting me to live in a teepee like the guidebooks told you I would?”

A flush crept up Jo’s face as her eyes darted back to the woman she was set to meet. “Val! That’s…that’s not it at all. It’s just so colorful, so new…” So unlike anything I imagined from you. From the house I thought about you going back home to night after night while I tried not to think about where you slept and undressed on my own walks home. Only now I’m here and you’re here and does the inside look like this too? Does your bedroom look just as warm and modern and…

Valcita’s laugh broke the tension settling over the air with every unspoken thought racing across Jo’s mind. “Jesus Christ, Jo, relax. I’m kidding! Come here, would you?”

She leaned off the trunk, gesturing for Jo to walk nearer as she began to explain the mechanisms and workings of the interior. Jo ran her hand along the swooping edge of the car, open to the sky above so that you could drive with your hair blowing in the wind. Already she could hear it deafening her ears, throwing off the protective cover of the truck’s thin metal roof where she had learned to navigate the winding curves at breakneck speeds and made a promise that was getting harder and harder to remember.

As Val kept talking, explaining which buttons to press and gears to shift, Jo couldn’t help but look at her standing between the glittering black paint and small porch. Her ever-present turquoise necklace caught the light of the sun and reflected the color of the shutters. It was usually her only adornment, but now it seemed like just a rock in the desert alongside this treasure she had never expected to find at the edge of the dust bowl.

Val was mid sentence, pointing to the levers for the windows and the locks when Jo’s question finally slipped from her lips. “Why do you have it anyway? The car, I mean. Do you leave? The bar is so close, and I’ve never seen it outside…”

Immediately Val’s arms went back across her body, although Jo was beginning to realize it wasn’t a stance of defensiveness for her the way she had originally thought. It was always paired with some sort of smile that told her it was usually amusement. Or even more likely, defiance. She shrugged her shoulders and confirmed it was the latter. “It was new. Suppose I didn’t need much more of a reason than that, did I?”

The keys now firmly in her own pocket and some modicum of knowledge on how to work the thing thanks to Gio, Jo followed Val around to the driver’s side door. She waited purposefully for Val to lift her hand to the door and pull it open before placing her own neatly beside hers.

As she went to step inside she lifted her right hand to the door, forgetting to move her other one away from Val’s as she looked at the interior of the car laid out before her like a new world. It was nothing like the truck she had learned to drive in, the same one she had dreams of stealing in the night and driving off into the desert with. Only she could already tell that this one was even faster, fast enough to take her all the way to California, or maybe even back to New Orleans. By the time anyone realized, she would be too far gone for them to ever find her again.

Her breath caught in her throat as she composed herself to look back at Val. “I’ll be back at the bar before you know it. It’s only a few weeks after all.”

Val pulled her hand away from Jo’s, as though to tell her she had seen exactly what she had been thinking and had no intentions of holding her back. “No you won’t. I’ve seen your brother play, and I saw how you handled him with my father. They’ll be another tour, and another, until you’re out in California with the rest of the women that look like you.”

Suddenly Jo felt her feet lock in place, and she hesitated to get into the car that she had considered running away in seconds before. “What’s - what’s that supposed to mean?”

As though she could sense the shift in Jo’s posture, Val leaned her weight onto the door. “I said it the day you walked into my bar, ain’t nothing about you that belongs in this town. Not sure how you got out here anyway. But here,” she said, nodding at the steering wheel and moving to shut the door behind Jo as soon as she stepped inside, “There’s your ticket out. Just try and return it to me in one piece, will you?”

[jflemings]

PROMPT 18 JFLEM

— out of the woods

prompt: 18 “i’m setting you free” from this post

a/n: i had this fic almost done and then tumblr deleted all of it and i waited too long to re write it so here’s a way more angsty version 🙂 also y’all can thank @pixiesfz for the angst. its jail time for the absolutely CRIMINAL jess angst that was posted xx

“you’re being ridiculous!”

“i’m being ridiculous? jesus christ jessie, you never even brought up the fact that you were thinking about moving to another fucking continent until you accepted the offer!” you exclaim loudly, anger simmering in your chest as you follow her into her bedroom.

you two had been going at it for the past hour and you were quickly running out of patience. she had brought up the topic of leaving chelsea a little while ago but you didn’t anticipate her moving to a whole different league, especially when the two of you seemed to be settling down.

“i didn’t think it would matter!” she says defensively, turning on her heel to face you “you were all for it when i brought it up before”

you scoff loudly “yeah, all for you moving to a different club in the wsl! jess how could you not bring this up with me?”

the canadian turns her back on you once again as she opens up her closet to grab some shirts she knows she won’t be wearing. she practically rips them off their hangers and carelessly throws them onto her bed “i didn’t think i needed to. it’s my future”

you’re taken aback by her justification. she’s right, it is her future, but considering the conversations the two of you have been having since the world cup you had assumed that you would be included in it, or at the very least spoken to about it.

the two of you had talked about moving in together and even gone as far as looking at places that were within your budget, so for her to suddenly drop the news that she was moving to the nwsl was coming from nowhere. or so you thought.

“how long had you been thinking about this?” you ask sternly

the midfielder sighs and throws another shirt onto her bed “since november”

your stomach drops and betrayal quickly puts out the flame of anger flicking within you. your brow furrows and your hands drop in defeat “november?” you question quietly “i was looking at places for us to live and you were thinking about leaving?!”

“it’s the best thing for my career!” she continues to argue as she turns around with her arms thrown out wide “it’s not a personal thing, y/n”

“what about the best thing for us” you ask bitterly “what about our future” your words are coated in venom as you speak to her, the hope of this turning into a civil conversation being thrown out the window.

she looks at you with a blank look on her face, the silence suddenly deafening you as the two of you stand just staring at eachother. the longer she takes to answer, the more sick you feel. you’ve always encouraged jessie to put herself first, always told her to follow her heart, but it seems like you had been stupid to assume that whatever road she took would always lead back to you. in your head, the future of your relationship was well and truely concrete: you’d move in together, get married, maybe have a kid or two and end up loving eachother for the rest of your time on earth.

jessie shuts her eyes tightly just as you feel your own well up with tears.

you had been wrong and she was proving it to you right now.

“right” you laugh bitterly, digging around in your purse for a polaroid photo that you carried everywhere. it was of the two of you sharing a drunk kiss at zećira’s for her birthday last year. sam had walked up to you with a polaroid camera mid-kiss and captured the alcohol fueled pda with a loud laugh. jessie had pulled away from you in a daze, her cheeks flushed and eyes glazed over without a care in the world that she had been caught on film in what she would call a compromising position.

you threw the photo onto her bed on top of the numerous shirts “since you’re packing up your life and throwing things away that you aren’t going to be needing you can take that. i don’t want it anymore” you say quietly, malice and hurt present in your tone.

jessie’s eyes widen as you turn on your heel “what are you doing”

“i’m setting you free” you say as you approach her bedroom door for the last time “hope portland has everything that london can’t give you”

[cat3ch1sm]

🐇~ HI EVERYONE! welcome back to my account :) im excited for today’s post because this is my first across the spiderverse writing! i hope you guys like it lol i couldn’t stop thinking about it (spiderman is my entire life now)

🐇𓆩♡𓆪☁️ fem!reader, sfw

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮- 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 <𝟑

~ miles g really does not like admitting he likes someone/ or even the idea of liking anyone at all. he obviously has things that are higher priority and he thinks it’s really a waste of time for the most part.

~ but then you come along,and he’s immediately enamored. like, imagine you’re just casually walking by miles while he’s sitting on his phone or whatever, and you accidentally bump into his leg. he looks up immediately to tell you to watch it, but instead is met with the most beautiful face he has literally ever seen. he legit double takes and completely forgets to even talk. you look down abruptly and are like “oh, i’m so sorry, i wasn’t paying attention!” you wait for him to say “it’s okay” or something like that, but when you look at him his expression is just blank. you kinda wave awkwardly and leave after that, and he watches you leave until you’re out of sight.

~ after you’re gone, he just sits there for a second before frowning and cursing at himself for being so caught up.

~…. “shit.”

~ miles g isn’t really the type to watch from afar, at least not for long. but for a short time, he does just watch you, admiring the way you do every little thing- smiling at your phone, the way you walk, how nice your voice sounds- things like that. it’s not long before he decides to make his move.

~the next time he sees you, he makes his move, cornering you when you’re alone and putting one arm beside your head so you can’t leave. needless to say, you’re definitely caught off guard when you turn around and are met with miles’ face- expression nonchalant and that unreadable glint in his eyes as usual.

~ yeah, don’t be fooled. miles is nervous as all hell and praying to every god imaginable that you don’t notice him shaking. but he isn’t the type to let fear or apprehension get in the way of something he wants.

~ “hey, you’re that guy i ran into the other day… um… hi!”

~ your smile almost makes him keel over. Jesus Christ

~ “hey, ma- glad you remember me. was wondering if you was tryna let me take you out sometime? i thought you were pretty.”

~ (yes, the whole atsv fandom has collectively agreed that prowler miles would call you “ma.” argue with the wall)

~ miles is crazy nervous for your response as he watches your expression furrow thoughtfully- but when you smile that smile again and say yes, he feels like a million weights have been lifted off his shoulder. sure, he’s the prowler, but he’s still a 15-year-old boy who probably hasn’t had a lot of experience in the dating arena.

~anyway, that was a fun little scenario- now let’s talk about miles actually going out with you, like how he is during the time where you’re going out but not quite exclusive.

~ the second he gets your socials, he’s all over them. he’s spending an amount of time he isn’t willing to disclose just stating at your pictures and admiring your beauty. he watches your TikToks religiously, liking them all, but literally immediately scrolls past the ones where you’re with any guy. he’s not jealous because he isn’t insecure, but he just does not care to see you with anyone else.

~ whenever you text him, unless he’s busy with prowler stuff, he’ll respond within like ten minutes at most. miles doesn’t want you to think for a second that he’s ignoring you or forgot about you. he has caught himself smiling slightly at his phone while he’s texting you every now and then, which he is so embarrassed about for no reason😭

~ yes, uncle aaron notices.

~ “aye, g, what’s got you cheesin’ at yo phone like that?”

~ “…nothin’, unc.”

~ “you know i can tell when you lyin’, right?”

~ “aw, c’mon-“

~”don’t even bother.”

- and rio notices, too.

~ “ay, miles, why are you on your phone so much lately? you know i don’t like- miles? what’s so funny on your phone?”

~ “nothing, mama.”

~ “nothing’s funny? then why are you smiling at your phone?”

~ “…uh…”

~ “waaaait…” *pause, hands on hips* “miles, are you talking to a girl?”

~ “mami!”

~ “so it is a girl! is it the same girl whose pictures you’ve been looking at lately?!”

~yes, she noticed that too.

~ “…mami!!”

~ “let me see!”

~ the next two minutes are miles and rio madly wrestling for his phone. (spoiler alert, rio wins.)

[hungharrington]

i looove the idea of steve putting on a few post vecna, his sweet sweet thighs and belly 😭😭❤️just completely oblivious and slightly confused to the adoration held for his softness. slow blowjob in the morning caressing his tummy and working your hand down his happy trail, before going to squeeze his cock. hands squishing and kneading his thighs as he’s sucked off, his pretty little whimpers escaping

THIS. THIS ASK HAS STUCK IN MY BRAIN AND FOLLOWED ME AROUND SINCE U SENT IT NONNIE LIKE YOU!! GET!! IT!! there is such pure adoration in this ask… u love stevie like i do i just know it <3 

it’s not that he’s skinny beforehand it’s just it’s year after year after year of living in survival mode does things to the body. steve’s on the leaner side and it’s saved his skin more times he can count, being nimble and fast. so, yeah, it does take a good year or two before steve manages to relax in his life and then at least one more for his body to catch up and let him settle. let him grow properly— give him that chub around his thighs, his tummy a proper lil pouch instead of lean and hard muscle. and to be honest, steve doesn’t really notice :’) he’s caught up in living his life fully with you happily and you only catch it, like really notice the difference, after seeing a photo of him back in ‘83 and it sets a fucking fire in you. you can’t contain it, can’t think normally about how much you adore the softness steve’s grown into with you — and it comes out the next morning, when you’re both getting handsy between the sleepy kisses. 

steve is surprised by how eager you are— normally mornings together are more of a slow cuddle fuck if anything— but today, you’re hungry for it, lips just caressing down his neck, sloppy kisses down his chest til you get to his tummy and steve loves it. he loves the view of you peering up at him, adoration in your gaze as you nuzzle along his happy trail with a content hum. your hands are soft, sweet, giving a ghost of a touch along the planes of his torso and you don’t mean to tease him, but his length pressed against your stomach isn’t enough to draw you from loving on him. it’s not til he starts squirming a bit that you notice he’s all hot and bothered, chest rising and falling a bit quick. “m’sorry baby,” you murmur, finally letting your kisses lead you lower, along his hipbone. “didn’t mean to tease.” 

you try to restrain yourself and give yourself only a minute on his thighs, little nips and lovebites, but even then steve notices it a bit, the extra attention you’re giving. he sounds a bit wrecked when he rasps his words out, “lotsa… christ, lotsa love on the thighs today, honey,” and you use that are your cue to slide his leaking cock into your mouth, pulling out this adorable soft little moan. you pull back, giving the head the smallest kitten lick, hands stretching up to his tummy for a moment, “bad thing?”you check. steve’s shaking his head against the pillow in an instant, “no! no, never. never… never a bad thing being loved by you sweetness,” his voice is all sticky with love and you know he means every word. your hands drag down to hold his thighs, kneading the softness as you start to suck him gently. the bedroom is golden in the morning sun and steve’s soft little noises, whimpers and moans, sound downright sinful and he feels so damn loved. it might just be a perfect morning.

[queenie-ofthe-void]

Tiger Club (part 2)

Steddie || ~1.6k words || rating: M || tags: single-dad steve harrington, teacher eddie munson, teacher chrissy cunningham, eddie and chrissy are best friends, steve harrington is dustin and max's dad, dustin and max are twins, meet cute, humor and fluff

Part 1 || Part 2 (you are here!) || Part 3 || ao3

~~~

Weeks go by, and Eddie always seems to miss Steve’s pick up days. Chrissy’s only seen him a few times, but both her and Eddie have been privileged with the presence of almost every other adult family member in the twins’ lives.

Aunt Robin picks them up most days. She always feigns exasperation at Dustin’s boundless energy and Max’s sassy jokes, but laughs every time they tackle her to the ground. Eddie was surprised to find out she actually lives with the kids and their mysterious father. He considered asking her more about the situation, but decided it wasn’t his business. 

However, he did find out from Chrissy that Robin and Steve went to the same high school but ran in different crowds. The two reconnected working at Hawkins Hospital, Robin as an interpreter and Steve as a paramedic. They bonded over a particularly difficult patient who’d come in through Emergency and didn’t want someone like Robin working with him, not realizing– as Robin had joked– that Steve was someone like Robin too. 

The more Eddie learns about the duo, the more it reminds him of his relationship with Chrissy. It’s at least a small comfort to know they’re not alone in this backwards town.

Aunt Nancy and Uncle Jonathan are the next most frequent visitors. He learned Nancy is a journalist at the Hawkins Post, but is looking to get hired working remotely at a bigger paper like The Chicago Times or Indianapolis Journal. Jonathan is a free-lance photographer, sometimes working for Nancy or the Post, but mostly shoots weddings and family photos. They seem nice enough, although he once caught Jonathan checking him out in the same way Robin had, glancing between Eddie and his own wife with a smirk on his face. 

The nerve of these people checking him out, leaving him flushed and spluttering when they aren’t even interested.

Hell, he even got to meet Dustin and Max’s grandparents before meeting their mysterious and elusive dad.

“Munson,” Jim Hopper, Hawkins Chief of Police, the twins’ adopted grandfather, scowled at him. He looked about the same as the last time Eddie had seen him, maybe a few more greys in his mustache and lines around his eyes. Easier to see the fine details when Eddie’s not cuffed in the backseat making faces at him in the rearview mirror.

Jesus Christ, is he lucky Hopper only ever brought him back home to Wayne for dealing instead of throwing him in a jail cell for the weekend. Eddie was twenty the last time the Chief picked him up, almost a decade ago now. He practically tossed Eddie in the backseat, drove them both out to the quarry, sat him down, handed him a beer, and explained in fine detail the differences between being a juvenile delinquent and an actual felon. Needless to say Eddie quit dealing and decided his calling was more educational.

“Oh Hop, leave the poor boy alone.” The small woman next to them playfully back-hands the Chief’s beer belly to get him to back off. “I’m Joyce, the kids’ grandma. And you must be Mr. Munson! We’ve heard so much about you.”

“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Hopper,” he says, unsure of how to navigate this extremely awkward interaction. The Chief’s stern glare hasn’t left Eddie’s face since he stepped out of the car. “I, uhh, wasn’t aware that you had family, Chief?”

The man grunts, but uncrosses his arms, shoving one hand in his front pocket and wrapping the other around his wife. “Steve’s not my son, but I’ve been looking after that boy since I picked him up for his first speeding ticket. Just a few years before the kids, back when he was dating Nancy.”

“Wait, wait, wait a second,” Eddie interrupts, shocked “Nancy, as in Auntie Nancy and Uncle Jonathan?”

“Jonathan’s my boy,” Joyce answers Eddie’s slack-jawed confusion. “Nancy and Jonathan met just after her and Steve broke up, but they’re all still good friends, obviously.”

“Yeah, obviously.” Eddie zones out a bit, trying to connect the dots in the tangled web of Max and Dustin Harrington’s family life. “Wait, wouldn’t that make Steve my age? And if you raised him–” he points to Hopper accusingly– “then that means he went to school here. With me. So why don’t I know him?”

But Hopper’s already shaking his head. “Kid went to the private school two towns over. Parents have an estate on the opposite side of town from Forest Hills, just barely inside my jurisdiction. I’m not surprised you two didn’t cross paths, he was only ever here for sports, which–” he gestures at Eddie’s everything, and yeah, Eddie gets it. But an estate?

This is the most information he’s been able to dig up so far. He looks back to the playground where Chrissy is still trying to rally the twins’ spilled bags. It’s an opportunity Eddie refuses to pass on.

“And the twins?” He turns back and just catches the end of a silent conversation between the couple, eyeing each other while glancing at Eddie. They stop when they notice him watching, and Hop sighs.

“Dustin and Max came around just after his senior year. The kid was set up for a full-ride to Indy on a swim scholarship his dad paid for. The mom was a girl he met at a party, and he didn’t see her again until she dropped them off on his doorstep. Parents kicked him out, then I took them in. Same week I picked you up for the last time,” Hop adds on with a laugh, like this entire conversation is chock full of cosmic coincidence. “What a hell of a week.”

Eddie tumbles the new information in his head over and over throughout the next few days. He feels himself growing bitter that someone like Steve Harrington exists. Someone who sounds too good to be true. Fake, like the many charming princes and noble knights he’s woven into his campaigns over the years. Except it’s hard to deny when it’s not just the kids, and Auntie Robin, Uncle Jonathan and Aunt Nancy, or hell, even the grandparents. 

It’s Chrissy. Every time Chrissy gets to talk to Steve, she raves about him until Eddie starts fake gagging just to get her to stop. She typically rolls her eyes, but he’s sick of hearing about how great this guy is and at this point, he’s not even sure if he wants to meet him. No one’s this great.

“Don’t you think it’s weird,” Eddie rants, like he has been for the past ten minutes, “that he can’t even be bothered to pick up his own children? And it’s like you’ve said, Chris, even when he does pick them up he’s always late! What kind of father is that, really?”

He’s halfway through his second margarita, and he’s lost track of the conversation entirely, not sure how they transitioned from Chrissy’s hinge matches to Steve fucking Harrington. Again.

Chrissy frowns at him, and yeah, he might’ve went a bit too far there. Maybe he’s a little sensitive about topics revolving around bad dads.

“Just because you’re hungry doesn’t mean you get to be a dick, Eddie,” she shoots back, pushing the basket of chips closer to him as they wait for their food. “It’s not my fault you decided to switch to detention yesterday and missed him because you were cold. I told you it was going to be chilly out and you still didn’t wear a jacket.”

“I was wearing a jacket, Chris,” he pouts.

“An actual, warm jacket. Not that threadbare, leather monstrosity you got from Goodwill for ten dollars. Just because you cover the holes with patches doesn’t mean the holes aren’t there.” 

He lets out an undignified shriek, but she continues on to the actual conversation, used to ignoring his dramatics. “You know it’s not the same as with your dad, or mine. Steve really is a great guy, even if you refuse to admit it. I think you’re just jealous you haven’t met him yet.”

“Of course I want to meet him,” he snaps back, but Chrissy just grins in response. “I have to listen to everyone talk about how great he is, and I’m just supposed to believe it all on face-value? Honestly, I’m sick of hearing about him, and if we keep talking about this it’s gonna ruin my buzz.”

Eddie refuses to believe a former trust-fund kid who hosted parties at his estate just to act like a fuck-boy actually leveled up to become a loving single father who’s adored by his family and friends, saves literal lives every day, and is one of the only queer people in this god forsaken town. 

Not that he spends his free time thinking about a random guy he’s gathered enough general information on to build a well-rounded NPC. A disowned nobleman cast out from his kingdom into squalor. With the help of the lonely prince’s new found family, he redeems himself by serving as Hawkins’ most beloved Paladin. 

Again, not that he’s actually building this character for next year’s campaign or anything, it just goes to show how much people won’t stop bragging about this guy, and Eddie’s over it.

“You’d really like him,” Chrissy says, putting an end to his stewing. She’s smiling like maybe she knows something he doesn’t, and it reminds him of the same smiles he’s gotten from Robin and Nanna Joyce.

“Yeah, well I’d actually have to meet him to like him.”

[maplegracefour]

You're high.

Summary: you've had a brownie and ask schlatt to pick you up

Warnings: marijuana use (edibles)

Word Count: ~450

Authors Note: i have never written anything like this before (at least not for a few years) so it isn't the best. I just enjoy posting the ideas I have :)

You weren’t a big smoker, never had been. It’s safe to say your tolerance is almost rock bottom. But after a day out with a friend, and a couple of edibles, you felt like you were on another planet. Trying to figure out how to get home was a little more stressful than you thought it would be so you resorted to texting Schlatt, despite knowing how much he was going to tease you for the state you’re in.

(Y/N): Can you pick me up? I’m at [ADDRESS]

J: I’ll be 10 mins. You good?

(Y/N): All good. :)

He was less than 10 minutes, he was pulled up in front of you, watching you through the window with a raised eyebrow before you even realised he was there.

“Hey.”

“You’re high.”

Your face feels hot, caught red-handed immediately.

“No. I’m not.” You tell him as you climb into the car, avoiding looking him in the eyes. If you don’t look him in the eyes, he won’t know. Right?

“You so are!” He laughs, hands draped lazily on the wheel as he observes you carefully. “How much have you had?”

You look down at your feet, suddenly the stitching of your laces is the most interesting thing in the world. Your face feels hotter. “Just a brownie.” You mumble.

He scoffs out another laugh. “You’re so fucked.” He chuckles. His foot presses down on the acceleration.

You groan and look out the window, not wanting to face him. He has a huge shit-eating grin on his face, occasionally glancing at you to make sure that you are actually okay.

You get back to his apartment and walk in silently, still feeling a tad wavy. Sitting down on the couch and pulling the throw blanket over your body. Schlatt watches as you kick off your shoes and curl up, clearly exhausted.

“You hungry?” He asks, leaning against the wall as he watches you with an amused smirk on his face.

The way your eyes light up tells him everything he needs to know and he lets out a small chuckle. A few moments later, he returns with a bag of chips and some chocolate. You sit up immediately, looking up at him as though he was the return of Christ himself. He tosses them to you and you immediately tuck in as he sits besides you.

After you enjoy your snacks, you settle beside him and he wraps an arm around you. Your high was depleting but you’re still feeling it, meaning that when he begins to thread his fingers through your hair, it feels euphoric.

“You doing okay?” He asks again.

You hum contently, leaning into his touch. “Never been better.” You murmur back.

[hollandorks]

haven

battinson! bruce wayne x f! reader

chapter seven

Summary: After the sudden deaths of your mother and grandmother, you’re forced to return home to Gotham…and to the man who broke your heart three years ago. Back in Bruce Wayne’s inescapable orbit, you vow to get to the bottom of your former best friend’s new cold personality. But Bruce’s secrets aren’t what you’re expecting. a

a/n: Fuck it, here's chapter 7 since the previous post was technically just an interlude! Once again I'm basically begging for comments/ messages/ any interaction other than just likes because I'm greedy!

Series Masterlist

word count: 3.5k

All she had was an eager cop, a detective, and the detective’s vigilante best friend. 

She hoped it would be enough.

Y/n knew that boredom would be her worst enemy, so she downloaded a police scanner app and listened to it almost religiously while she worked. The constant stream of voices helped keep the grief at bay and helped her focus. 

To her surprise, the cops seemed to want Batman around. There were a couple of calls those first couple of days–an armed robbery and a creep taking pictures through a window–where the officers mentioned him by name. He’d stopped the armed robbery before the cops got there and also caught the peeping Tom. One cop grumbled on the radio how all their work was being taken by some guy in a costume. The rest of them jumped to Batman's defense, saying there was more than enough crime to go around. “Besides,” one chuckled. “I wouldn't want to be the one to catch some creep with his dick out.” 

Y/n was almost pleased to hear the good relationship the vigilante had with GCPD. She wondered how much Gordon had to do with that. She made a few notes of their comments for her article, because it was definitely interesting to see that a city wanted a guy who operated outside the law around. 

It was a few nights before an interesting call came through. 

A witness reported a woman being shot. A young woman. The details were sparse but it was enough to pique her interest.

Y/n couldn’t say what it was that had her dressing warmly and grabbing her camera and phone. Stupidity, definitely. But it was one of those moments where she felt in her gut that something was happening, something related to her case.

Pepper spray clutched in one hand and camera in the other, she left the safety of Wayne Tower. Every shadow made her jump. She called a cab to take her to the crime scene–or at least as close as she could get. It was practically on the other side of the city and she definitely didn’t want to chance walking alone at night in Gotham. 

They were stopped two blocks from the scene, so she got out and peered around. It looked like the actual crime scene was on the other side of an apartment building to her right, but that alley was blocked off as was the street in front of her. So she walked a little further down to the next connecting alley to get to one street over. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“Shit!” She screamed. She whirled and swung her arm up to use the mace, but her wrist was quickly caught in an iron grip. She tried to scramble away and almost fell when the hand suddenly released her.

Her heart only slightly calmed when she saw who it was. 

The Batman. 

She pressed her knuckles to her chest. Her heart was jumping out of her chest. “Jesus fucking Christ. What are you doing here?” 

He watched her passively, half in the shadows. He had stepped away as soon as he let her go. “I asked first.” 

She closed her eyes for a beat and inhaled a steadying breath. “Probably the same thing you’re doing here.” She shrugged. Her pulse was still racing but she knew she was safe now. He wouldn’t let anyone hurt her. And besides, there were about a million cops just around the corner. If she screamed, they would come. 

“It’s too dangerous,” he growled. He took a half-step forward, like he would grab her again. 

She held up the pepper spray. “Not afraid to use this on you, buddy. Besides, you’re here now to keep me safe. And the other fifty cops out there.” 

He stopped. His eyes narrowed. She wanted to get closer, see what color they were, help narrow down who might be underneath the mask. 

“Fine, let’s go.” He started to walk past her, towards the blue and red lights at the end of the alley. 

She blinked in surprise. “That was easy.” 

He looked back over his shoulder at her. “Only because you’re going to do what you want to do. At least this way I can keep an eye out for you.” 

She grinned and winked. “You’re learning already.” 

They walked down the alley together, her shadowy protector moving to stay one step behind her like a bodyguard. 

At the end of the alley, the world was leached of color in the whirling red and blue lights, the flashes timed almost perfectly to the beat of her heart. She snapped a quick wide picture. She could see the area cordoned off with bright yellow tape. 

“Well, of all the officers in all of Gotham,” she said pleasantly when she spied Martinez keeping onlookers away from the crime scene tape. 

Officer Martinez’s young face brightened when he saw her, then changed comically fast when he peered over her shoulder. She could feel the Batman’s presence at her back, looming over her. 

“She’s with me,” the vigilante said. Martinez sighed but held up the tape to let them under. She sensed there was a story between them and itched to find out what it was. 

“If either of you touch anything…” Martinez grumbled. “It’s my neck.” 

Y/n flashed him her most winning smile. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep the big guy in line.” Martinez grinned back. 

“So Martinez doesn’t like you, huh?” she asked the vigilante.

He ignored her. 

The air around them was humid, wet. It must have rained earlier, like most nights in Gotham. A few cop cars were leaving already. She wondered what had brought on the intense response. Her stomach tightened as they approached another alley. Gordon was talking to a young guy, late teens to early twenties, taking notes on a small notepad as the guy wiped at his face. 

Y/n quickly fumbled for her phone and set it to record. She wasn’t making the same mistake twice. Except for, well, the whole leaving Wayne Tower late at night while a murderer might be after her mistake she’d already made. She snapped another sneaky picture of Gordon and the young man. 

She caught Batman watching her and arched an eyebrow as if daring him to say anything. 

He simply turned away and said, “Gordon.” 

“Thank you,” Gordon said to who she assumed was a witness. “We’ll be in touch.” 

The guy hurried off, shoulders hunched, his face almost green. 

Gordon turned, saw her, and sighed. “I would ask, but…”

She winked. “You’re both learning so quickly. I’m proud.” 

“What happened?” Batman asked, all business. Y/n glanced past Gordon and saw a body covered in a sheet. The medical examiner was unzipping a body bag, about to transport it. 

The detective’s attention turned to the vigilante. “Single gunshot to the head at close range. Woman in her thirties walking home from work. Guy heard the gunshots and came running. Said he didn’t see the shooter but immediately called it in. Unfortunately, his dinner has…contaminated part of the scene.” 

While they were talking, y/n quietly lifted her camera and started taking pictures. 

The medical examiner lifted the sheet. She took another picture but paused. 

She took a shaky step back and bumped into something. Gloved hands steadied her by her elbows. 

“Oh,” Batman said softly. He put it together quicker than she had. Her brain was scrambling to keep up. The girl on the ground was a bloody mess, face down, legs sprawled like she’d tried to run. She was wearing a similar outfit to y/n–leggings, sweater, running shoes. 

But that wasn’t where the similarities ended. 

The height, the body shape, the hair color, even the shade of her skin…

The woman looked like y/n. 

She didn’t realize she was shaking until Batman gently squeezed her elbows. 

“Shit,” Gordon said. He must not have seen the body when he first arrived on the scene. 

“Don’t look,” Batman said in her ear, pulling her away, his voice conjuring–of all people–Bruce Wayne. It was just her mind reaching for something familiar, comfortable, safe. She shook the thought away. The vigilante turned her around and held her close. “Don’t look,” he said again. 

She closed her eyes against the wave of emotion. Her stomach swooped dangerously. She’d seen a dead body or two before but not–not like this. 

“Guess we have confirmation, then,” Gordon said softly. She didn’t have to ask what confirmation they had. She knew already, her gut telling her what exactly had happened despite its churning. 

Someone had killed that woman because it looked like her. 

They knew what she looked like. They knew well enough to kill someone even with the chance it might not be her. 

Which meant they were desperate and that it was only a matter of time before they found her. 

“Come on, you need to get out of here,” Gordon said, and this time he had her by the arm. He pulled her along, the vigilante cutting a path through the crowd before them. 

Her mind was blank. The shock of seeing a body, of imaging her own in its place, had wiped everything clean. She didn’t protest as Gordon bundled her into the passenger seat of his car. At least he didn’t put me in the back like a criminal, she thought almost deliriously. 

Batman stood in the open door, staring down at her. She wasn’t sure when he’d gotten there but now he was filling her vision. Her eyes traced the planes of his armor, wondering what he looked like underneath, who he was. There were dings and scrapes in places, physical memories of past fights. 

“I’m going to find who did this,” he said. His voice pitched impossibly lower. “And keep an eye out for you.” 

This made her snap out of it. “You can’t be in two places at once.” He had black paint around his eyes. She hadn’t noticed before. 

The barest smirk on his lips as he looked away. She couldn’t tell what color his eyes were in the darkness of the night. “You don’t know that for sure.” 

She snorted. “You’re right. Maybe you’re some sort of mutant freak. Besides dressing like a bat, you know.” Despite the joking, her hands shook. She tucked them between her thighs. 

“Listen,” he said, serious again. There was a note of steel in the word. His voice was so low she could feel it as a vibration on her skin. “Stop sneaking out at night. It’s too dangerous.” 

She nodded vaguely but didn’t actually make the promise. If they wanted her dead, Wayne Tower wasn’t going to stop them. Slow them down, maybe, but not stop them. She needed to put the puzzle pieces together, and fast. They were getting closer to figuring out who she was, but she and Gordon and even the Batman only vaguely knew who they were dealing with. They needed to even the score. 

“Then give me your phone number so you can be my bodyguard,” she said. She was half teasing. 

The Batman seemed to consider it. Her eyes went past him as the gurney passed with the body on it. She shuddered and he stepped to block her view. 

“If you have to leave, let Gordon know and one of us will come. But only if you have to.” 

“Right,” she scoffed. “You’re allergic to texting.” And probably don’t want a reporter having your phone number, she silently added. 

Batman stepped back and then Gordon was there. He put one hand on the top of the car and leaned in, expression as serious as she’d ever seen it. “I’m taking you straight home and you’re going to stay there, alright?” 

She waved a hand but nodded. Satisfied, he shut the passenger door. She could hear muffled voices as he said something to Batman. Probably berating him for bringing her to the crime scene in the first place. Or telling him something he didn’t want her to hear. 

Within a couple of minutes, Gordon was sliding behind the wheel. 

“How’d you even know where to go?” he asked as they drove. 

“Police scanner app.” 

He glanced over at her. “I hate those things,” he muttered. “What happened to quid pro quo? I would have called you.” 

She bit her lip and shrugged. “I can’t just sit around waiting for someone to shoot me in the head.” She shivered at the image she now had of what, exactly, that looked like. 

“So you’re going to take yourself right to their doorstep instead?” 

“With the way my luck is going lately, it’s only a matter of time anyway. Might as well get as much done as I can first.” She hated to be so casual about it, but she had had really shit luck lately. There was no use hiding from it. If she didn’t leave Wayne Tower, they would probably find a way to break in. Or send a sniper after her. She thought about the times she’d leaned against the windows in the study and a chill went up her spine. 

“All you’ve done is traumatize yourself and give me a headache,” he said around a sigh. He really did sound like a tired dad half the time, she mused. She leaned her head back and watched the dark streets of Gotham pass by. She was reminded of another night in Gotham, years ago, on the back of a motorcycle with Bruce. 

She pushed the memory away and said, “I’ll pay for a bottle of ibuprofen.” 

Gordon laughed softly. “Listen, I know you reporter types are always rushing into danger, but this is your life. Can’t write the story if you’re dead. Text me if you have to go anywhere, and either I’ll come or send someone I trust.” 

“Okay,” she said. “But if it takes too long I might leave anyway.” She smiled so he would know she was at least partially kidding. “Have you learned anything new?” 

Gordon was silent for so long she knew it was bad news. He parked right in front of Wayne Tower–illegally, she might add. 

He turned to face her, his hands idly resting on his knees. “It’s definitely the Gallo family. And another of the suspects we caught is dead. Apparent suicide, but we aren’t so sure. The third one is under around the clock protection, but…”  

“Shit,” she said. Now she was the one with a headache. “That is…bad.” 

“Can you see why I want you to stay home now?” he asked pleadingly. “Like it or not, I’m responsible for keeping you alive. If we can catch the last guy and get him and the other to trial…you’re an important witness. The only witness.” 

“Aw, and here I was thinking you were starting to like me.”

A tightening at the corners of his mouth told her he was trying not to smile. “Let me walk you upstairs.” 

“Do you see all the security in there? I’ll be fine.” She gestured towards the lobby. It definitely looked more like a swanky prison these days, even at night when no employees were in the lower floors of the building. 

“I wanted to see if I could talk to Bruce Wayne.” 

Y/n did a double take. Just the sound of his name made her stomach tighten almost painfully. “Why? To tattle on me? Bruce Wayne is not my keeper. He’s not my anything.” She immediately bit her tongue. She’d said too much with that last sentence, let too much of her hurt and bitterness in. 

“I want to talk to him about his security, see if we can bolster it with our officers somehow.” Gordon was already up and out of the car. She scrambled to keep up, briefly getting caught in her seatbelt before yanking it off and hopping out. 

Gordon flashed his badge to the security. They all relaxed not at seeing it, but at seeing y/n. 

“You better talk to Alfred then, if he’s awake. He’s more in charge of that stuff than Bruce. He’s with me, it’s fine.” She said the last part to the concerned security guard–the new one whose name she still hadn’t learned, the one who had called the police for her the night she’d witnessed the murders. He was in charge of the night shift security, apparently. She wondered if he resented being the only guy at the desk at night to having a whole team around. Or maybe it was less lonely. 

Gordon followed her into the private residential elevator. “Be that as it may, I’d like to speak to Mr. Wayne too.” 

She sighed but hit the button to take them up to the residential part of Wayne Tower. “You really sound like a dad,” she muttered under her breath. 

Gordon cut his eyes at her then smiled. 

The elevators opened, and there was Alfred, already dressed and waiting. Security must have called up, warning him the detective was coming. Had he even gone to bed? She was starting to think that Alfred might be nocturnal. Or maybe he didn’t sleep at all. That was new–she and Bruce had gotten in trouble many times when they were younger for interrupting his precious sleep. These days he always seemed to be dressed impeccably, even late at night. 

“Detective,” Alfred said pleasantly. He briefly narrowed his eyes at her. “How can I help you?” 

Y/n idly scuffed her foot against the floor, suddenly feeling like a teenager again. She had always been caught either sneaking out or sneaking back in. Alfred had a knack for it. Or maybe she wasn’t as good as Bruce had been, who had been caught only twice that she could remember. 

Gordon nodded politely. “Is Mr. Wayne feeling better? I’d like to talk to the both of you.” 

“I would like to add here that it’s not sneaking out if I’m a grown woman,” y/n said helpfully. 

Alfred’s eyes narrowed again before he turned his focus back to Gordon. “Mr. Wayne is out.” 

Now y/n was narrowing her eyes at Alfred. He caught her looking. She raised one eyebrow. Was he street racing again? She remembered the bruises on his knuckles. Or part of an illegal fight club? Neither would surprise her. 

Another thought struck and stole her breath. 

Maybe Bruce had a girlfriend. 

“Do you know when he’ll be back?” Gordon asked. His tone was carefully neutral. 

“Well, as I was just told, the rules are different for grown men–and women. He comes and goes as he pleases and rarely includes me in his plans.” Alfred was being too professional with it. His tone was too flat. Oh yeah, Bruce was definitely up to something, and Alfred definitely knew exactly what it was. Fuck, she thought desperately. She couldn’t breathe. Alfred would know if Bruce had a girlfriend and he knew her well enough to hide it from her. 

Why did the thought of Bruce with another woman hurt so much, even three years later? I don’t love you and I never will, he had said that night. 

Which meant he was perfectly capable of loving someone else. 

Y/n bit her lip until the pain made the panic recede. 

“Of course,” Gordon said in an equally flat, professional tone. “I wanted to chat about security measures. There was another murder tonight, and while I can’t give details of an ongoing investigation…it definitely seems like y/n is a target.” 

She cringed, remembering how eerily similar the body had been to hers. Who had the woman been? She hadn’t gotten a name, an age. But she felt like she should know these things if the woman had died in her place. What if she was only the first? Would they kill every woman who looked close enough to y/n before they caught her?

Alfred blinked in surprise, the professional facade slipping. “I–of course, let’s go into my office.” 

Y/n wanted to go with them but decided against it. It really would be smarter to listen to Gordon. If she needed to leave, she would get an escort, even if it was Alfred. He may walk with a cane but she knew he was secretly pretty spry. He’d been a spy or soldier or something in his younger years, before coming to work for the Waynes. 

“Goodnight, Alfred,” she said, taking a half-step towards the hall that led to her room. “And thanks, Gordon.” 

They both nodded and bid her goodnight before disappearing towards the study. 

Y/n waited a second then darted to the elevator. The other elevator. Bruce’s. 

She didn’t really have a plan other than to see with her own two eyes that Bruce was gone and not just hiding. 

She hit the button for what was once the garage and again, nothing happened. She frowned at it and hit it several more times. Still nothing. 

What if Bruce was down there with a woman, showing her his cars? Or–She shut the thought down and mashed the button one more time, knowing it was futile. 

With a curse, she stepped back out. 

Fine, she would go to bed and leave Bruce alone. It didn’t matter if he was wrecking illegally souped up cars or beating someone’s face in and following the first rule of fight club. It didn’t matter if he was with a woman he might love more than he ever loved her. 

It didn’t matter. He didn’t matter.

Except, as much as she hated to admit it, he did.

Next Chapter

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[canaidliafail]

what she brings out of me

sadie adler x f!reader

4.5 k words MDI

old piece that isn’t proof read but I wanted to post it. Sort of canon compliant for 1/7 of the story so read at your own risk + bad english ahead. enjoy

hunting with Hosea was a chore more often than not but the man raised you to be the hunter that you are now and you were willing to tolerate the withered old man. He had his fun but he couldn’t do the miles he did before and his aim left much to be desired. But he kept you company and gave you maps for all the legendary animals he wanted to see and you, to catch.

That winter while you sought out shelter and a temporary camp while leaving blackwater,he was more prickly than usual.He insisted you stay in and help Pearston skin and cook the animals and man were you a shitty cook.

Pearston decided he would let you sneak out to hunt being the greedy drunk fool that he was so long as you brought something other than vegetables for the crew to eat.

You had barely managed to mount your horse when Arthur came back with Dutch and the rest with a new guest. a woman, frightened like a rabbit, shaking from the cold and the grief judging from her tear stained cheeks

the crowd came in with questions and she shrunk in herself stepping behind Dutch. You hitched your horse back and half ran your way to them

“This is Ms. Adler. Abigail help her out, she's had a rough night” he said and Abigail approached the woman who seemed reluctant to move from her spot as everyone discussed what took place. fed up with the situation you pushed the others away clearing a path for her and stopped beside Abigail

“Christ people give her some air can't you see she’s frightened?” You commanded and they lowered their heads, hats covering their eyes.

The three of you made your way back into the cabin and left it up to Abigail to talk to the woman.

Men widowed her that night and took everything else with them, money,silver, dignity….

the night was grim and you could hear her weep quietly, mourning her lost husband till daylight hit and she passed out from exhaustion. You woke up first and made coffee and left one by her bunk bed with a note

You probably won’t have much appetite but try to consume some liquids at least

Throughout your whole stay there you never conversed any further than a tip of the hat when you entered the cabin at night and a soft sigh when you replaced her untouched plate and cup in the morning.

You felt for her despite not knowing what it meant to lose a husband. You didn’t know what it meant to even have a husband in the first place

But your heart still ached to see such a lovely woman stripped of all joy and light

•••

“a 1000 pound bear and you thought we could take her out with our piss poor rifles?!” You asked bewildered and glanced at Arthur who had much more patience than you that day, which said a lot. Hosea passed him the map with a hand over his heart still scared and in shock how quickly he came face to face with death

“Ill head back…You two gonna chase after that thing are are you coming with?”

“coming with. Arthur its all yours” You said and mounted your house and he did the same

“Had enough entertainment for now. Let’s head back” He agreed and you all three started the two day journey back talking about everything and how everyone was settling in

“By the way, Karen has been asking for you again”

“hm?” you looked up at Arthur. Of course she was. you leave for a few days and she is looking for you again to let out some steam. You stay at camp and she won’t bat an eye your way. You took little offense however simply enjoying that you had someone to have your fun with when no one was looking

“Ill go by her tent later…” you mumbled

“Speaking of can you keep some company to Ms. Adler as well? You two have a spunky spirit and might lift her up a bit”

Sadie Adler had continued her daily routine of wandering off to the far end of the camp sitting on the rocks and crying. You caught her talking to Abigail more than anyone else and despite wanting to get close to the woman you had no idea how to approach her

“Ill…see what I can do”

you agreed and continued silently too tired to indulge in small talk

you arrived at the hideout the next evening. Arthur took off shortly to go back to blackwater for a lead on some members that stayed behind

You bathed in the dreadfully cold river and made it back to your tent combing your hair into two braids, putting on a clean pair of jeans with a shirt to go out and see if there was any coffee or herbs to make tea.

Your caught Sadie with the corner of your eye sitting by the rocks looking off into the distance and decided to give it your best shot. At this point you were the only woman who had not talked to her and it felt rude

you grabbed two chapped mugs and poured whatever hot liquid was available and made your way to her

“Evening Ms. Adler” she looked up at you

“Good evening”

“Mind if I keep you some company?” you said pushing the warm cup in her direction which she took without protest and schooched to the side giving you space. You sat next to her and looked at the dim light from the sparse fire pits enjoying the cracking of wood and soft unison of voices talking in the background

“Listen Im sure everyone had asked how you are doing so I won’t try to remind you of that but, I hope you are finding your stay with us of some comfort”

you said and dared a fearful look at her admiring her untamed blonde hair and freckled nose. A second longer and you may have found yourself in love with a widow so you turned your sights back on the coals and fire in the distance

“As much as I'd rather be left alone, its nice to have some company” she confessed and you nod, waiting to see if she had anything else to say. With a shaky voice she continued

“I just wish my Jacky was here with me. He was a good man you know, better than anyone out there”

your lips thinned almost feeling her anger. Karen passed in front of you in the distance quirking a brow indicating she would be waiting for you tonight

“I just wish it was me in his place. I feel so lost”

you brought your attention back to her and slowly pressed a hand against her back gently moving it in circles. she leaned into your touch and you felt her breath stutter

“I wish I could take my own life…but i’m not brave enough to do even that” you matched your breathing with her own pulling her closer silently trying to calm her down the minute you felt her shoulders shake

“To be brave is to keep on going. To keep on living” you quietly offered your thoughts and she shook her head tears falling again

“I don’t know…”

you kept caressing her back

“Keep on living Adler. Show those fuckers what you’re made of”

You said boldly and she turned to look at you surprised. she seemed to consider your words and then your face. maybe both. You knew you weren’t good at this but you were satisfied to see the tears stop and her features soften

You smiled and hesitantly tucked a lose strand of hair behind her ear and then stood up

“We are here for you. Take your time to grieve the man. He is worth it” she nod and took in a deep breath looking into the distance, taking a sip from her tea “Thank you for listening” your shrugged “least I can do for a pretty lady. Should you ever seek company my tent is open” you said and saw a soft smile graced her lips for the first time before she turned away. Remorse hit you quick and hard realizing you accidentally just made a pass at her and felt shame drown you.

with a tip of your hat you excused yourself.

You feared you had messed up, spoke too soon and maybe with too much ignorance. You prayed she’d brush your words off. Its not like anyone even considered that a woman could flirt with a woman.

You sought out Karen and her willing touch that night. You forgot yourself in the pleasure of her spread legs and let her soft gasps fill your mind.

However the next day you were surprised to see Sadie with her hair braided and her shirt tucked in neatly with a lovely brown straw hat shielding her face from the sun. she went to pour coffee and caught you staring and for the first time greeted you first with a smile

•••

Days turned into weeks and Sadies curt greetings turned to small talk that turned into long conversation and eventually she took interest in your role with the gang asking of your trips

“a huntress?”

you felt pride in your chest. sure women weren’t expected to do much but you loved that you challenged that standard from a young age

“I feel I am of more use with a bow in the wild than with pins and needles”

“What's up with you managing to have every woman all over you?” Arthur asked one day and you laughed pushing him away with a soft punch on his arm

“Its my talent”

“and here I thought that laid in hunting animals. ‘s that why we’ve been starving lately?”

he asked meaning no harm and you saw his crooked grin and the softness in his eyes, crinkling with wrinkles

“shut up arthur. Don't you have a train to rob or something?”

“my bad, I won’t take any more of your precious time with Ms. Adler”

You also quickly found out Sadie had a sharp tongue and a short temper. Her strength and quip was overshadowed by her grief before but slowly it raised to the surface and more people took interest in her. She grew more familiar with Arthur and her long skirts were slowly replaced by the occasional tight black jeans that accentuated her assets even better

Some nights she was still haunted by nightmares and you took it upon yourself to invite her to your tent. You talked for a while and when she tried to excuse herself you stopped her and patted the side of your bunk bed

“You can sleep here for tonight”

“and you?” you laughed “Ill also sleep here. Never had a sleepover with a friend before?”

“Not like that you prick” she said and laid next to you. Her eyes widened, noticing she was a little too close than she calculated. you held her by the waist guiding her “turn around for me” you whispered and she obliged. You pressed your chest against her back and held her like that and felt her tense shoulders slowly relax only to stiffen again when you spoke again close to her

“Goodnight Sadie”

“goodnight”

It only happened once but after that night You often caught yourself admiring her, those warm brown eyes, the raspy voice that gave you goosebumps and when no one paid you attention you shamelessly eyed her figure.

“You are no better than a man,huntress” Karen teased and leaned next to you against the tree. You chuckled and glanced at her “jealous?”

“you wish” she said. It didn’t go past you that she wore a dress that exposed her chest nicely yet it did little to arouse you and in horror you realized your mind drifted over to Sadie and how nicely she tucked in her shirt leaving no more than two buttons open barely exposing her collar bones

“The boys are going out for some job” she said leaving the invitation and you smirked looking down at her

“Hm…Maybe Ill join them”

“or..” she said and carefully flattened her palms against your chest pretending to fix your bandana for you “you can join me instead” she looked up at you with doe eyes and your lip twitched in a smile. She left swaying her hips and you let your gaze linger for a second before looking up. Sadie stood there with an unspoken question in her eyes and then cocked a brow in challenge.

you took two cigarettes out of your pocket and she approached you accepting your offer. she placed the stick in her lips and you motioned her to come closer.

her head tilted in confusion and you carefully pulled her in by the back of your head till the ends of your cigarettes touched and lit them both in one go

you tucked the lighter back in your pants and she took in a long puff in thought “You seem closer to Karen than the rest. Does your friendship go back in time?”

you laughed at the innocent and awfully unsuspecting question and decided to test the waters

“Friends ? Hardly, we are close though. In different ways” she seemed even more puzzled “Everytime you answer my questions I end up more lost and confused than I was before”

“Maybe I'm just that bad at conversing with others” she chuckled, a low raspy giggle almost “You give yourself too little credit. Had it not been for those coffees you left and your company Id probably still be on that rock crying” you smiled

“Glad I could help” you continued to smoke in silence and you inspected her clothes your eyes falling on the yellow brooch tied around her neck

“That's a nice brooch” she looked down and smiled “thanks. One of the few good things I own”

“Oh don't say that. You have a lovely sense of fashion darling” you held the ornament in your fingers leaning closer feeling her breath fan your cheeks. Something shifted and it wasn't even anymore. you looked up and saw her completely focused on your every movement catching her eyes that were stuck on your lips. Flattered, a cocky smile escaped you.

There was a tense moment that snapped from Peaston calling out to everyone informing them that dinner and drinks were ready.

You both pulled away from each other abruptly and pushed yourself off the tree patting your pants and dusting them off

“Will you join us?” you asked and she shrugged “Was about time I did”

•••

You were drunk. Way too fucking drunk.

“shit how many…” you tried to look around and count how many glasses of whiskey you had. everything was spinning and buzzing. Karen and Mary-beth were singing and you clumsily joined. Sadie sat next to you cracking a joke here and there but still was mostly quiet listening to all of you and sometimes laughing. Karen laid her head on your shoulder and her hand fell on your thigh beneath the table going upwards and staying there fondling your thigh. Too drunk to care if Sadie was looking, you indulged her sensual move and wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

unbeknownst to you Sadie withdrew from you slightly and confused looked at the pair of you her frown growing deeper as Karens hand traveled higher eventually tugging at the metal belt clasp

amidst the chaos- which you were uncertain if there was any due to your drunken state- you remembered getting up and escaping to the quieter place of the camp, then your hands were on Karens hips and her lips on your neck biting and sucking and everything else was a blur

had you been slightly more sober you would have noticed that you weren’t completely hidden. Because Sadie was interested in you in ways she couldn’t explain and she was out looking for you that night. And she unfortunately caught a glimpse of your nasty sexual endeavors with the other woman who you had so willingly pinned against the tree and who elicited the most pornographic sounds

•••

Sadie caught herself interested in you. She liked the fact that you were a huntress and she liked more that you took little pity on her state and gave her solid motivation to get back on track with her life. She realized she chased your polite compliments when she wore a new accessory or when she braided her hair.

but to feel like this towards a woman? how?

she questioned and doubted it immediately believing it was the grief that made her lose her mind. That was until she saw you devouring karen in the deep of the forest. Something woke within her. fiery jealousy and heat bloomed in her chest and her core ached.

She-at first- was convinced she was repulsed by the act, finding it vulgar. than she thought that she was simply taken aback by it but not in an unpleasant way. eventually she decided to sleep frustrated and confused, unable to understand what she felt.

two days later she sought out Karen who seemed very eager to tease and taunt her

“What a voyeuristic eye that you have Adler”

“Are the two of you in a relationship?”

she laughed, loud enough to almost make her feel humiliated and stupid as if the answer was obvious

“Gods no! I mean I know she only likes women but I don’t care for things like that”

“only women?”

“If you ever find yourself with too much frustration pay her a visit. In my opinion every woman should feel her tongue” Sadies eyes widened and then she shook her head in disappointment

“Ill find other ways to keep myself busy” she barked growing angry with Karens games

“Suit yourself. I'm just saying that I trained her well” and with that she left. Sadie was angry. Jealous.She saw Karen marking her territory and she didn’t like that

why does she try to claim something that isnt hers

She avoided you on purpose for the upcoming days and she hated seeing your confusion and visible pain to her dismissive attitude

You once tried to approach her more boldly and in her spitefulness she spat

“what's up with you? Nothing to do?”

You huffed out a frustrated breath and crossed your arms standing in front of her.

“Ive thought about it a lot and it all boils down to you probably finding out I swing the other way”

“I did find out”

you nodded in repeat looking away and she saw your jaw tense and your brows lower “well Fuck me then” you hissed exasperated

“Id like to be alone” she said with a low growl and you scoffed “Really Sadie? Am I that disgusting to you now that you won’t even say goodmorning to me?” you raised your tone and she stood up “Don't you use that tone on me”

“or what?!” she stared at you long and hard. You were the first to break contact and took a step back, arms swinging softly

“You know what Sadie? You wanna be alone ? then be fucking alone” she watched as you turned your back on her and left immediately regretting how sbe handled that conversation.

She didn’t see you for a week after that. That week she herself was busy with her first bounty hunt and she could hardly be happy about it. Her stomach felt like she’d swallowed stones and her throat was dry.

and when you came back it was with Arhur, Hosea and another woman. Someone you rescued on your recent bounty hunt who was as lost as she once was. You attention was on the hurt woman keeping her company making sure she felt secure with your group of people

“Listen we ain’t good but we ain’t them either” you consoled an arm around her shoulders soothing her and Sadie had enough of it. She approached you with heavy steps the heel of her boots digging into the dirt

“I wanna talk to you”

you looked up and the girl in your arms seemed intimidated by her. Sadie disliked that she seemed threatening to an innocent person but her focus was on you and you alone

you silently questioned her, eyes wide, jaw tense as if saying really?! now?!

she stood her ground until you gave in and followed her back to your tent where you could have some privacy

“You wanted to talk? speak”

“Why do you have to be like that?” she asked annoyed and you shook your head defeated “Like what hon? I am around you and you are repulsed, I give you space and you are equally unsatisfied. The hell do you want from me, woman?!”

“I just needed time! Time!” she emphasized the words and you sat down knowing your knees were too weak to handle this unprovoked attitude

“time? for what?” You tried peacefully and truly exhausted knowing someone had to be tame or this conversation wouldn’t go far without resulting in you pulling a gun to each others head

“Christ I- I just was confused. I didn’t know a woman could look at a woman like that”

“And why does it concern you?” you asked and she seemed taken aback. Why indeed

Because I considered you that way too

she came to the conclusion her tongue numb and heavy, unable to speak these words out loud.

She hated how quickly you caught on and in a delightfully predatory way she watched you stand up and approach her, circling her like a vulture

“Sadie did you hate that I look at women like that or did you hate that you weren’t one of those women?”

the hair on the back of her neck rose and heat pooled in her stomach again. A feeling she thought had surely died with her late husband yet here it was.

“I wasn't?” she asked, her confidence faltering. She was sure she caught you staring at her chest, her lips, her hips at first not questioning the wandering gaze until she put the puzzle pieces together to figure out the reason behind it

your hands were on her shoulders running up and down the length of her arms slowly

“Would you like to be?” she turned around and as if in a dance sequence your hands fell on her neck to pull her in for a hungry kiss

She could feel how starved you were in the way your lips pressed against hers tasting her, imprinting the feel of her skin against hers. She returned the notion with equal fervor if not with more and was reluctant to be the one to submit. her hands landed on your hips pulling you in and she was shocked to find how right this position felt. how velvety your tongue felt against her own and how your skin molded into her palms becoming one.

she pulled away to take in a few deep and heavy breaths looking at you and was pleased to find you putty in her arms, to see the mighty huntress small, fragile and ready to do anything she would ask you to

“Do I awaken something in you Sadie?” You asked and held her closer, your arms wrapped around her neck and she responded by kissing you again loving the power and control she had. The passion melted into something more gentle, affectionate and tender and when you pulled away the second time she held your cheek in her hand caressing the flushed skin

“ that answer good enough for you?” she asked with a lazy smirk and you huffed out a laugh still gasping for air “Never thought you packed such heat” you confessed and her ego grew dangerously “You haven’t experienced the half of it”

•••

Unlike you, who was secretive and shameful of your nature the minute Sadie felt sure in herself she didn’t hesitate to greet you with a good morning kiss letting everyone think about what they just witnessed. As outlaws you certainly had bigger problems than two girls deciding to kiss each other and you came to the stupidly obvious realisation. Hosea and Arthur were the first ones to tell you

well we knew men didn’t do it for you, but I didn’t exactly know what did so…I just do now thats all it is

and you felt good about his awkward and reassuring words. Sadie didn’t care on the other hand. if she spent the night in your tent she didn’t hide it and if she felt like making a move on you while at the saloon she would and dealt with the consequences violently and eagerly still needing to vent out her pain and frustrations.

“are you not…scared?” you asked her once at night when you both laid together, naked beneath a thin sheet and she smiled giving you small kisses on your cheeks, jaw, neck

“I am scared of other things darling. Death is one of them. Random drunk men ain’t on the other hand are not”

“You aren’t indestructible Sadie. I worry for you” you confessed and she smiled “Nobody’s taking nothing from me ever again” she said and kissed you “And nobody’s taking me away from you either”

[dreamofbecoming]

yeah alright this got away from me. posting in pieces, part one is just stobin, no shippy stuff. steddie and rockie to follow. i'll drop it on ao3 once all 3 parts are done

now on ao3!

platonic stobin

rating: t

wc: 3.5k

---

Robin stopped being surprised by Steve Harrington showing up at her bedroom window months ago. Jesus, there's a sentence her 16 year old self wouldn't fucking believe for a second. The Hair, climbing up the trellis her dad built for the roses her mom planted and then forgot about three months later? Yeah right, as if. But it turns out alternate dimensions and sci-fi movie monsters and Russian conspiracies in Bumfuck, Nowhere, USA are all real, so how surprising really is The King himself, collapsing through her window with all the grace of a baby giraffe, out of breath like he- holy shit, did he fucking run here?

"Dingus, did you run here? What the hell?"

"Had to- hang on, Jesus. Holy shit." He bends over, hands on his knees, panting like he just ran a marathon. Which, she guesses, he almost did.

"You have a car, you lunatic, what could possibly be so important?"

"Didn't think about it. Had to get here."

"Is someone dead?!" Oh fuck, Is the Upside Down back? Oh shit, oh no, it can't be back, right? Superhero girl closed the gates! Right?! Oh god, oh no, oh fuck, it's back, the Russians are back, they realized they couldn't let her live after what she's seen, her parents will never even know what happened to her, and they'll kill Dingus too, and dorky little Henderson, and that menace Erica, oh god, they're gonna die, and Hopper's gone and superhero girl is far away and she doesn't have superpowers anymore anyway, which is frankly bogus because what the hell, Robin never even got to hang out with a real live magic person before, which, ok, that's a selfish thought, but that's ok, we can think selfish thoughts and then set them aside and not act on them, thoughts are not actions, thoughts happen all the time without our consent, they don't determine our character-

"Bobs, you're spiraling. Nothing bad happened, I just realized something and I freaked out and I had to talk to you right away. Forgot to call. Sorry, I should have called. Ran straight out of the house. I don't even think my shoes match, what the fuck?"

She's gonna kill him, she really is.

She loves him so much.

"Jesus, you're insane. Sit, you absolute dweeb. I'm getting you some water, when I get back you can tell me what the hell is going on."

He's sitting on her bed when she gets back upstairs, staring at something in his hands. Christ, his hands are shaking. What the fuck, Dingus?

He takes the water and downs it in one go- ugh, sports guys- then flops onto his back and covers his eyes with a miserable groan.

"I know we've got the whole twin telepathy thing going on, bubba, but I'm gonna need at least a little bit to work with here. Give me something. Is it your parents? The kids? Uh, what was her name? From Thursday? Janice?"

"Janine, and no. Ugh. Here." The arm not covering his eyes flops out towards her, holding- ah. A zine. He had promised to drive up to Indy last weekend to the secret bookshop she told him about and get her some new ones, even though she couldn't go with him because her cousin Randy got caught cheating on his fiancée and her parents made her come with the rest of the family to help him move. Fucking Randy. Maybe he should make better choices, so the rest of them wouldn't have to clean up his messes. Jerk.

Anyway.

"Marked the page." Which, yep, there's a purple paper clip stuck to a page near the middle, because Steve knows how much she hates people who dogear books, even books that aren't really books at all, so he's been training himself out of it, because he's sort of the best. Again, 16 year old Robin would have her committed for thinking that, but here we are.

The pamphlet isn't one of the periodicals she sent him for, so he must have picked it up on his own. It looks handmade, just some folded sheets that look like they came out of a typewriter, bound with the kind of twine you can buy at the hardware store. It's called Awakenings. The page he's marked looks like a personal essay, no title, no real signature, just a pair of initials at the end of the page and a half of writing. She starts reading, trying to figure out what the hell spooked Steve so bad.

"I've always been normal. I've always had crushes on men, just like the other girls. There was never a feeling of "I'm different," or "Oh, this is wrong." There was never anything to think very hard about. I'd giggle and blush when the boys looked over at us on the playground, same as everyone else. Later on when I was older I looked at my poster of Harrison Ford, shirtless and hairy and sweating, and I touched myself, and it felt good, just like it was supposed to. I didn't mind thinking of my future husband, and our future kids, and the pretty house with the pretty garden we'd have, just like my parents have, just like they wanted for me. I was normal. Everything was fine.

I thought everything about me was normal. So I didn't understand why the other girls at sleepover parties would giggle and stop and say "Ew, gross!" when we practiced kissing. It felt nice! I wanted to keep going! But it seemed like no one else did. I didn't understand why none of them talked about getting butterflies in their stomach when Laura, who was the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen, transferred in our senior year, why they seemed so angry at her. Those butterflies were what jealousy felt like, right? So why did the other girls seem to feel so different?

I made my first lesbian friend in college, on the very first day, right across the hall in my dorm. We sat next to each other at Orientation and I thought I'd never have another best friend that wonderful in my whole life, so I'd hold on to her with everything I had. She came out to me the night before Christmas break, hiding under the blankets in my dorm room with the twinkling lights glowing. She was so scared. I held her and told her I loved her no matter what, and she seemed so glad, to have someone to talk to.

When she talked about falling in love with girls, I was so confused. The way she described it sounded like what it felt like to have girlfriends, I was sure. I felt that all the time. I asked her if she was sure she was gay, and she looked so shocked and angry and hurt, and I didn't know how to fix it, so I tried to explain. That what she felt couldn't be liking girls, because I felt that too, and I was normal. I liked boys, so I couldn't be gay. I couldn't be.

I'm glad it was her I said all that to. If someone else had told me about being bisexual, I think I would have hated them. I would have cried, and screamed, and said horrible things. Because I wasn't gay, I was normal, and it was so scary to think that might be a lie. Thank God it was her, my best friend in the world, who I never want to lose. Thank God I listened.

Because I'm not normal. I'm queer. I like men, and I like women. I can love them both the same, but it doesn't matter anymore, because I love her. I love her, and she loves me, and I don't need to be normal anymore."

Robin's face feels wet, which probably means she's crying. She cries a lot, reading these sorts of stories, in the zines she has to keep hidden under her bed, or, these days, at Steve's house. It's never going to be her, she knows. Not here in Hawkins, but it still makes something ache deep inside her, like pressing on a bruise, but in a good way, seeing love happen to other people. People like her. Seeing that it can.

"So?"

Oh shit. Right, Dingus. They're about him right now. Something about this essay in particular freaked him out.

"Uh. It's. A nice essay? I'm glad things worked out for them?"

Stevie lets out a pathetic whine, sort of like back at Scoops when he earned a particularly bad tally on the You Suck board. "Robbiiiiiiieeeee!"

"I'm sorry! I think I'm missing something, what's wrong with this essay? I don't get it, bubba, I'm sorry. I need some context." She does feel bad. Usually she can pluck whatever's bothering him right out of his brain and into the light, where it almost never looks as bad, but she's at a loss right now.

He's got both hands over his face again, and his response is so muffled she can't make out a word.

"Try again in human sounds, please."

"Ugh! I thought everyone felt like that!"

Huh? "Felt like...what, exactly?"

"Like that!" He flails wildly at the pamphlet in her hands. He's sitting up now, hair all askew from tugging at it, and there's a vaguely worrying crazed look in his eye, like right before he tackled that guard. "Like kissing boys and girls both feel nice, and like seeing a handsome guy and feeling jealous of him makes my stomach flutter, and like having friends feels the same as having crushes! I thought that was just how everyone felt all the time!"

Oh.

Oh.

Oh no.

Poor Dingus! No wonder he panicked and ran here like a crazy person!

"Stevie, can I hug you? Please?" She's not much for physical touch most of the time, but Steve is, and also she's found in the last few months that she doesn't mind so much when it's him. She sort of understands why other people like hugs so much, if they always feel like hugging Steve feels for her. And she really thinks he needs to be hugged, right now.

He nods miserably. She drapes her arms around his shoulders and holds on as tight as she can, hauling him sideways until he's practically laying down on her. He clutches her back and buries his face in her shoulder. She can feel her neck getting wet with tears, a sensation that would normally make her want to claw off her own skin, but this isn't about her. Dingus needs her.

"It's ok, bubba. I'm so sorry. I know how scary this is. When I first figured out I had a crush on Linda Sanderson I cried so hard I threw up, you know? I get it. It's gonna be ok, I promise. We'll make it ok. We faced down evil Russians and giant meat monsters, what's a little sexuality crisis, huh? We got this! We're the goddamn Wonder Twins!"

He snorts at that, which she's pretty sure leaves snot on her neck, which. Ew. Still. Problems for Later Robin.

"We are not, Will and El are the Wonder Twins."

"Uh, nope, no chance, I barely even met them so therefore I am vetoing their application. Sorry kiddos, better luck next time! Find your own nickname, losers!"

Steve sits back, laughing, and she preens a little at being able to bring him back from the brink so easily. She loves him so much she feels like she's glowing with it, sometimes. It almost makes her wish she was straight, because what girl is she ever going to find who loves her this much? But only almost, because. Well. Girls, amiright? Phew.

"So what now, Stevie? You wanna say it out loud? That helps, sometimes. You wanna not say it out loud? You wanna go to a gay bar and find you a boy? You wanna never think about it again? It's totally your call."

"Say it out loud, huh?"

"Hm. It took me like a month, and then the first time I could only say it sitting in the back of my closet with the bedroom door locked and the closet door closed, and I could only whisper it. Just "I'm a lesbian," to myself, like the world's most ironic little goblin. And I had to throw up again after. But it did feel good, once I rinsed my mouth out, anyway. Cleansing, you know? And it gets easier every time." Steve's eyebrows are raised and he's chuckling again, so that's a win. She's not lying, but it is sort of funny, she supposes. In hindsight, anyway.

"Ok. Ok, I can do that. I think. Yeah, I can do that."

She's so proud of him. He's the bravest person she's ever met, she thinks. "You wanna get in the closet?"

"Isn't the whole point to come out of the closet, Robs?" He's smirking at her. Bastard. She whacks him in the shoulder on principle. He may be having a crisis, but he's still a jackass. Her favorite jackass in the whole world, but still.

"Har har, you're a regular Bob Hope. Alright then, bigshot, let's hear it."

A little of that fear creeps back onto his face, and she wishes she could wipe it off, but that's not how this works. They can't make the scary things less scary. He couldn't make the Russians less terrifying, but he could hold her hand and make her laugh and carry some of that fear with her. She can do that for him now, too.

She grabs his hand, and he clutches back tightly. He takes a deep breath.

"I'm...fuck. Ok. Ok, I can do this. I'm...bisexual." The air leaves him in a big whoosh, and he laughs a little. "Yeah, ok, fuck. I'm bisexual. Holy shit, Robbie, I'm bisexual!"

"Hell yeah you are!" She's grinning so hard her cheeks hurt. She's so fucking proud of him.

He's laughing again, a little hysterically, and he hugs her tight again, and she holds him back just as close and thinks oh, he's like me. I'm not alone. I have Steve, and he's like me, and he's mine forever and ever.

When they separate, she looks at him seriously.

"So do you, like, want this to be a thing? Because we can totally make it a thing, and like, get me a fake ID and go to a gay bar and do all kinds of wild shit if you want, but we don't have to, you know? If you need to just, like. Digest this, for a while. It's totally up to you, I just know it took me a while to feel ok with it, and I have no idea if it's different for you but I just want to be what you need, you know? You've been so good with me, and I've never had a queer friend before, so I don't know how, but I want to be just as good to you. You're my Dingus and I love you and I don't know how much of a gay guru I can be on account of, you know, I've never met any gay people besides me and the pretty lady at the bookstore but I couldn't even get real human words to come out of my mouth when I tried to talk to her so I don't think that counts, you know? But I still wanna help! Let me help!"

"Bobbie! Bobbie breathe, you're gonna pass out. I don't think I need a gay guru, I just need a gay best friend, and I have that, so I promise I'm good, ok? Promise. Also I love you too.”

She takes a deep breath, following his lead the way they worked out in the horrible days after Starcourt, when she couldn't sleep without him next to her, warm and alive and breathing, and even then she would wake up in the night with her breath coming short and her vision tunneling and Steve would hold her hand against his chest and breathe slowly, in and out, until she could follow him, and the world wasn't so terrible and scary and loud anymore.

She still thinks about that awful hour underground, thinking she was strapped to the corpse of a boy she never let become her friend, but Steve is always there now when she needs him, and he never complains when she grabs his wrist or puts her head on his chest to make absolutely sure that big, stupid heart is still beating.

When she's breathing normally again, he drops their joined hands down between them, toying idly with the chain linking her ring to her bracelet. "I think...I think I'm glad I said it, and I'm glad we talked about it, but can we maybe just...put it away, for a while? Like it's not...ugh. I guess this is kind of shitty to say, so like, hit me if you want, I guess, but I kind of don't think it matters right now?"

"No no, that makes perfect sense! Like, you still like girls, right?" He nods. "And you don't like. Have a crush on any boys right now. Or do you? Oh man if you do you have to tell me though, it's platonic soulmate law. It's in the bylaws, Steve, don't make me soulmate fine you!"

He laughs and shoves her face away. "Jesus, Rob, no! I don't have a crush on any guys, who would I even crush on in this town? We're not exactly swimming in eligible bachelors. I don't have a crush on anybody at all, I'd tell you, I swear. I know the rules!"

"Oh phew, good. You have to tell me when you do, though, I'm way excited to get you back for making fun of Tammy."

"It was the God's honest truth, Bobbie! She sings like a muppet!"

"Oh my god, shut up, Dingus! Ugh! As I was saying, you super duper have to tell me when you do, but for now, I think maybe you don't have to think about it really at all if you don't want. I mean, practically speaking, it's not really relevant to your everyday life, so we can totally revisit when that changes, but you don't have to like. Join a pride parade tomorrow, you know? You are you who are no matter what. You don't have to prove anything to anyone, especially not to me, not ever."

He leans his head on her shoulder, and she scritches her nails through his hair. It really has no right being as soft as it is, with the amount of hairspray he uses. It's frankly rude, is what it is.

"Thanks, Bobs. I think I'm just gonna put it away for now. It just...another thing to know about me, you know? Like, I'm bad at fighting people but good at fighting monsters, all my best friends are kids except you, I'm bi but it doesn't matter because there aren't any boys to date in Hawkins anyway. Plus my dad would kill me if he found out. Like actually kill me, not "oh geez I missed curfew, my dad's gonna kill me" type kill me, like I think he'd actually try and beat me to death. So there's really no reason to talk about it right now, you know?"

There's a pit of ice in her stomach, and she tightens her arm around him like she can keep him safe just by holding on tight enough. She hates how casually he said that, just like she hates how casually he always talks about how his parents treat him, like he honestly believes it's normal. "Jesus, Dingus. You know you can come here if you need, right? My parents love you, they already think we're getting married. They'd make you sleep in the guest room, but I could sneak you in here easy."

He snorts again. "We're totally gonna end up married for tax reasons anyway, we're never beating the rumors." That makes her snort, too. He's not wrong, though. She isn't going to be allowed to have a wife anytime soon, and if she has to choose someone to be her next of kin, it's always gonna be him. They're planning to move in together when she goes to school next year anyway. No one is ever gonna believe them that they aren't dating, but that's...fine. Honestly, there are worse things. Better to have Steve by her side than not, and if no one else understands them, well, they understand each other, don't they? That's more than enough.

"Yeah, I know I can come here if I need, Robs. It's fine mostly, I swear. They're not home until Christmas anyway."

He takes another deep breath, like he's settling himself. "I'm just glad we talked about it. I feel better now."

She cards her fingers through his hair again, basking in the feeling of her favorite person so close, and so content. "I'm glad, Dingus."

They're alive, and they're together, and they're queer, and neither of them is ever going to have to be alone again.

"Hang on, did you say you've kissed girls and boys?!"

part 2 part 3

[brittle-doughie]

Looking Into the Mermaid’s Tale Update for CRK!

So soon? It hadn’t been that long since Black Pearl’s previous legendary costume, Ice Queen had yet to get one :(

Yep, I think Special Episodes are going to be the norm for events if here on. Wowie, that’s quite a lot of mermaids and a jellyfish! And a pirate too.

No Super Epic this update at least? Yippieeeeee

Basically renamed magic candies for higher rarity cookies like the legendaries, ancients, and dragons. I only hope it isn’t too grindy to obtain these materials.

I don’t know about you guys, but I’m eating good with these merwomen ;)

Abalone Cookie, my dudeeeee. Something tells me that the valuable thing they’ve caught is very..likely a living thing

Peppermint Cookie sounds so baby-like, Jesus Christ. I’m in the middle, I’ll need the update to drop so I can get a better listen to the voice.

This update is pretty interesting for story, but I know the new magic candies will raise alarm bells for people when arcane crystals are already a pain to grind for, but again, I hope there’s something in the update to help with that.

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This update is also giving me a sense of nostalgia. One of my very early posts was a quick write of the Duskgloom Sea update, the trailer barely came out when I wrote it and it became one of my very first posts to take off with it currently having 746 notes. So returning to the waters here is pretty surreal to me. I much appreciate you guys for reading and liking my stuff, here’s to many cool things coming soon to the game and my blog too!

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You stare in horror at Abalone Cookie’s eyes as you were hoisted out of the water from a net, an evil smile flashed across his face as he has a knife in his hand.

Abalone Cookie: To think we’ve caught something especially valuable before the eclipse! Ready the table, crew! We’re having a fea-

He’s stopped when he gets hit with a piece of coral to the back of the head, turning to see a group of very angry mermaids staring up at him and his crew from the water, amongst them was a very large, very angry mermaid.

Black Pearl Cookie: Release your filthy net from them and I promise you’ll be crumbled swiftly…

[sdv-confessions]

there are people keep saying sebastian is a loser while alex is some popular kid just because they look like the stereotypes of nerdy emo kid and a jock. saying this with whole my heart as a male alex liker, but sorry, you are wrong. sebastian didnt go to college but he managed to self taught coding and getting money out of it is fucking impressive. he has his own motorbike, and he has a group of friend who love and support him. he is pretty direct with his emotions and struggles once you get to know him on a certain level. and as for alex, this boy only has one friend (two, if you count emily in if thinking about the fact that he knew her through haley). he wished there were more girls in the town, but he never directly went out to talk with them besides haley,like boy what are you doing, but i kinda understand given how george was not much of a good figure good is not nice remember folks. alex did have a job, but it's more like a side gig given how his ice cream stand only open in summer and only in a certain time. and the fact that he tried to uphold his tough persona instead of opening up to anyone except dusty and the farmer, who accidentally caught him being sad, or how only after marriage he said that he never had many friends and didnt know what to do if the farmer didnt come here. that boy is a loser more than sebastian! but i love him for that <3

they are like "well sebastian lives with his parents" as if he didnt have a plan to move out. and not just him, there are many townies who are adults still live with their family like sam, shane, penny, haley and emily live with their parents before those two went travelling, etc, even his sister maru. and not to mention in some cultures, its normal to stay with your parents until you get married, hell, some households even have 2 or more generations living together. and living alone? in this economy? no fucking way my siblings in christ, saying this as an atheist

ok i know its getting too long but i also dont like how the fandom saying that alex is only good with male farmer and dismiss his sexist views towards female farmer at the beginning by saying it was because hes gay, given how there are gay men who are very misogynistic in real life. we all saw how george was when you married alex as a guy, and if you think deep enough, homophobia and sexist usually go hand in hand. like dont you look at me and tell me that peepaw doesnt have at least a sexist thought once. its good for both of them to grow out of it with both female and male farmer, but i think its worth mentioning that in male farmers route, we get to understand why alex turned out like that, as usually you would reflect some of your parents or caretakers behaviors, whether they taught it to you or you mimic them unintentionally. so i dont like anyone who hates him making alex being sexist as an engraved trait, he changed! he apologized and grew out of it later. also people who post character hate in their tags im watching you when you sleep if anything, pierre should get a fair share of hate for being sexist towards abby and caroline too, but i dont see people talk about it enough like how he acts towards the farmer and their products and stuffs

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