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#could not have taken such nice photos without them
yukipri · 5 months
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Solar Eclipse - April 8, 2024 - 90%!
Turns out slightly cloudy ended up PERFECT for Eclipse photos!
Did y'all see it?
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opens-up-4-nobody · 2 months
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...
#im back from a week with my dad at home and at the lake#it was really nice to b home for a while but now im a mess lol#bc it really makes me wanna move back to Appalachia and not do another semester out here#and also this was our 1st trip to the lake without my mom being there. she loved the lake. she grew up on the water and was named after an#island. she died before she could use our new jetski. which my dad bought for her and she would have loved#and i stood in her sandles bc my dad keeps them out by the fireplace and my toes fit almost exactly into the impressions of her feet#and i came come with another bag full of her clothes. and i feel bad for my dad being all alone in that big house#i mean hes got the dogs but theyre 7 and 8 and theyre big boys so they probably dont have all that long left. itll be so sad when they die.#there was a moment where i was talking to the dogs and he said i sounded exactly like my mom. which was kinda intentional#on my part bc i say a lot of things bc she would say them. stolen phrases and intonations. pieces of things ive taken.#its still weird that she's just gone forever. the time in the hospital feels like it was some horrible nightmare.#and now shes never gonna kno where we end up. she's left rooms full of half tumbled rocks and half sorted photos and half organized#classroom supplies. the outlines of a person that will slowly be stitched out of existance as time moves on until theres nothing left and#the memories are gone. its just sad is all. especially bc she didnt deserve it. no one does but expecally not her.#but unfortunately life isnt about getting what you deserve. its chaos and coincidence all the way down.#unrelated
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lies · 2 years
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Sometimes when I'm birdwatching
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heavenbarnes · 6 months
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Pretty please may we have more about Johnny finding your photos in older bf Simon’s phone?
continuation of this
so like i said about older bf!simon who saves all the photos and videos you send him because he likes having a lot to work with. no matter how fucking filthy it might be, he saves it right to his camera roll.
no albums, no hidden folder, no passcode (all things you need to show him when he’s home) photos of your naked body or videos of you humping a pillow and crying his name- all hanging loose in the photos app next to sweet photos of you two on date night or the screenshots johnny had sent him earlier.
that’s where this all went pear shaped, johnny had screenshotted the directions and sent them to simon’s phone. simon was busy assembling his weapon when johnny asked if he could grab those pictures off him.
simon had agreed (well he’d grunted but johnny knew him well enough to translate)
johnny’s thumb was working overtime to get to the screen with the photos app on it (simon doesn’t understand categorising apps so he has like three pages of them) and when he finally finds it, it was already open in the background (simon also doesn’t shut any apps, they’re always running in the back)
in hindsight, the fact johnny went quiet for once should’ve been a warning.
there, in soap’s hot little hand, was a photo of you that looked like it had been taken from the floor. your legs looked amazonian and the pair of knickers you had on hugged the curve of your ass like they were made for you. trailing all the way up your body until he could see your hands cupping your chest.
“jesus christ, L.T- the fuck is this?”
simon casually walked over to join him, looking over his shoulder and grunting again- this time in recognition.
“nah mate, the photos you sent are up ‘ere.”
not a care in the world.
as a long finger reached over to begin swiping through the photos, johnny’s head nearly spun off his shoulders as he was treated to an effective carousel of you in compromising positions.
videos of your legs spread, photos of you in simon’s clothing, close ups, long shots- johnny shifted on his feet in hopes he could adjust himself without hands, without raising alarm.
heat rising in his cheeks, he was close to handing the phone off and telling ghost he’d be back in 15 when a video began to autoplay with a missed swipe and johnny found himself jerking the phone so he could watch it play.
you were on your knees on the bed, back arched and hand between your thighs playing with yourself. your head was rested on the bed, looking back over your shoulder to lock eyes with the camera as a heady moan drifted off your lips.
“si- don’t be gone too long, need you to come home and fill me up”
soap could see stars, they were twirling round his head like somecunt had dropped an anvil on it. his eyes were fixed to the screen in front of him, unable to look anywhere else.
he was snapped back to attention by a dark snicker that came from just on his six. he swore he could feel ghost’s chin resting on his shoulder as the man spoke behind him.
“y’like that, huh? if you ask nicely, i’m sure i could get you one too.”
simon could be generous, but not that generous- you were still his, end of story. but that didn’t mean he couldn’t share something small with his closest.
especially when it was a video of you getting filled up at both ends, just silicone now but who knows what’ll happen when they come back?
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metranart · 17 days
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Obsessed with Yuji and Sukuna who are inexplicably fascinated by your mere existence . <𝟑
Ft. Yuji x reader, Sukuna x reader. Both, vessel and curse, are thirsty for your unshared attention. Manipulation, gaslighting, horny pink-haired sorcerer, bad decisions, sneaking into your room while you're sleeping, slight! non-con elements.
Yuji was distracted.
His cheeks now own a permanent pinkish hue, his hands sweat an awful lot and his gaze seemed to have an automatic aim to find you.
You had perturbed the vessel of Sukuna.
This had never happened to him before and it worries him…a lot, almost to the point where he blames the king of curses for his recent indecent thoughts.
Yes, that must be it. Sukuna is morphing my thoughts into a perturbing fog of arousal and… depravity. Its definitely him.
Yuji convinces himself each time his eyes drag through the length of your bare legs or when your bra is visible under your white shirts and your round breast bounce when you run or happily jump at a joke he said, its practically hypnotizing and throughfully frustrating to let his mind run rampant.
His imagination is a nagging bitch which wishes to do more than just watch, he can only imagine the way your soft skin will feel under his fingertips.
If your breast will fit in his big, powerful hands and how good it will feel while massaging his dick in between the plump flesh.
Your mouth is a favorite of his, to have your lips wrapped around his meaty length must be nice and to be able to feed you his bitter milk every morning makes him shiver in his sorcerer uniform.
This thoughts are over the line for a sweet and simple boy like him and he cant stop from feel flustered every time but what worries him and has him in red alert is the persistency and the lewd air they were gaining with each day.
Jerking himself off each morning at the pray of your name is not helping to ease the rest of his day, anymore. He has begin to resource to much primitive ways to relax, ways that mortify and ashame him each time he blew his load.
Stole a pair of your panties to wrap his dick while he masturbates, once entered your room and bury his face in your pillow for almost an hour until he felt all his muscles loose. Has taken photos of you, like a thousand photos and the must precious ones where the ones when you had been tranquil sitting on the grass chatting with panda and Toge and your underwear was at display without you noticing it.
Those were his favorite batch and his first aid kit against sleepless nights and cold showers in the middle of the night.
Remembered doing his best effort to dismiss the pang of jealousy that kidnapped him when noticed how Toge’s eyes subtly drifted down to have a peek as frequently as he took a photo.
It was demeaning and wrong to be indulging in those kind of acts towards such a close and cherished friend but you were driving him to the edge just by existing.
Yet, must admit finds some comfort in the fact that he is not the only one struggling.
To have his eyes perch on you has its advantages and those are knowing exactly when the eyes of another sorcerer hover around your figure. He could attribute it to the low number of women in the school but deep inside knew what those looks really meant because he recognized himself in them. 
The hunger, the need, the temptation and your innate and blissful ignorance toward everything. It is intoxicating, making it a hard combo to ignore and that reality makes him feel less dirty and a little bit less like a perv.
The pink haired vessel can even swear he catch Megumi’s gaze glue to the back of your thighs in an occasion but when he looked again his eyes where looking ahead…so, he gave him the courtesy of doubt.
But what actually is raiding his brain to a maddening sharp end is the fact that he’s been standing immobile in front of your bed for almost forty minutes watching you sleep.
In his audacity he slip into your room, only wanted to stare at your face one more time before go to sleep but now that he is there—…is trapped and solely unable to leave. There is nothing wrong with the window he came though or the door without a lock, is only the realization he does not want to leave.
The hot weather has bless his sight with you wearing only a tiny pair of strawberries pattern panties and a white tank top which refuses to cover your breast in its totality.
Bless the thin fabric hugging your curves. 
It is breathtaking privilege to be able to look at you in such a state of relaxation, it almost makes him sigh out loud.
Touch her, she wont mind… a familiar voice whispers in the back of his head. She is deep asleep, Yuji, wont even be the wiser if you let your hand skim over her legs…Certain curse insisted.
Stop being a pussy, boy! And touch her already! 
“Shut up.” The confused boy curses quietly to his other half. Yuji can feel his heart beating out of his chest.
Thump, thump, thump.
His pulse is drumming in his neck, hands hang limp by his sides, fists clench and unclench as a recently acquired nervous tic.
We both know what you are thinking, Yuji–…You been driving me crazy with all your hesitation and damsel sighing, you fucking wimp! Stop ignoring me, brat!...If you want I’ll even pretend it is ME who forces your hand.
The curse teases, wickedly, knowing exactly were to press and when to let go to obtain his price.
“This is wrong-g…” the pink haired boy stammers beginning to feel cornered. 
What is wrong is to be this frustrated–you pathetic, pampered human.
Yuji’s lack of response send the king of curses a silent warning of the reluctance of his vessel. Forcing the immortal to change his tactic to break his will.
If you lend me control—
“No, fucking way–”
Just hear me out, fucking brat! If you lend me control I can submerge her into deep, catatonic sleep till the sun rises. He generously offers and his ruse is rewarded with his host pondering it. It’s a simple enough curse I can perform in the blink of an eye—
“If I let you loose, you’ll hurt her…” Yuji argues keeping his voice a raspy whisper, imperturbable gaze fix in your pleasantly rising breast. “I wont take that chance.”
Not even one hand…? Sukuna teases, sharp smirk peeking out from Yuji’s left cheek. Only lend me control of one hand and I’ll perform the curse and let you be to play all your sick fantasies in the flesh…
Yuji is looking for the trap, the deceit and lies behind his offer but his heavily clouded thoughts don’t let him think straight. The image you present in front of him is devastatingly tempting and infuriatingly irrefutable now that Sukuna offers him a way to be near you without consequences.
To let his growing necessities be satiated by your peaceful and numb self. He’ll be gentle, he swears.
Maybe just one touch wont hurt. He is not releasing Sukuna just lending him one hand and in the way freeing himself from his infatuation with you.
Yuji truly believes if he is able to play some of the heated scenarios raiding his mind, he’ll free his head from those thoughts cause it is just a whim. A vicious whim which refuses to part ways with him.
He does no understands why you rule his every thought, why his stomach feels like butterflies flying inside, why your eyes seem to look direct into his soul.
Maybe just a touch wont hurt anyone, you wont know and he wont tell.
If by chance we get caught…you can blame it on me. Sukuna’s teeth shine reflecting the light of the full moon trespassing through the open window, sharp and sinister stretched grin deforming the pink haired boy’s face. Yuji this is my last offer…take it or leave it, brat!
Yuji has made his mind and in deliberated firm and quiet steps reaches the door, he glances back at your peaceful and vulnerable form and a long, heavy sigh abandons his lips as his hand hugs the doorknob for a minute too long before lock it.
Good boy. The curse thinks pleasantly surprised. He just needs one hand to guide his most diabolic intentions into your vulnerable core. Stupid and horny, brat! Finally he’ll be of some use.
Muting his real intentions towards this night, he smoothly advices. Go on, let me work my magic.
The boy hesitates one last moment pondering between good and wrong, when suddenly you moan in your sleep and rolling over your back a nipple emerges like a close bud from under the frail and thin layer of snow that knows that summer is here.
Big light-brown eyes fall in trance at how you create such a fragile and lewd symphony just be laying peacefully sleep under the pale rays of moonlight and Sukuna feels how the boy grants control of his left hand.
One hard nipple and this boy is about to blow all over his pants, how pathetic. The king snickers and testing his rule over the limb, closes his fist before ordering.
I need to be closer to be able to touch–
“I want to be the first to touch her.” The boy quickly interjects cutting Sukuna midsentence as a deep blush spreads through his cheeks.
Sukuna laughs on the inside at how touch deprived this boy is but this time can relate to the feeling, for he is aching for pussy as well.
You’ll be the first, stupid brat, after all this is your hand. The king of curses says in a condescending tone, fanning the hand in question in front of the pink haired vessel’s face.
“I g-guess is ok, then.” Yuji pouts and begins to close the distance until his hand hovers over your face.
Sukuna places his thumb over your forehead, lightly and a small glint makes you sigh out loud before your body turns limp as a boneless fish.
Tada! Sukuna boasts, gloating at how Yuji immediately uses his other hand and shakes your body to test the efficiency of the curse.
The boy gently pinches your arm and waits for a reaction and earning none, squeezes your cheeks until your lips form an o-shape, a light grin ghosts over his lips when you stay imperturbably sleep, now he truly feels free to plunge into your skin.
His heart races at the possibilities. Too nervous, he sits on the side of the bed and allows his palm to tenderly graze the side of your uncovered breast just to feel the roundness against his fingertips but is not prepare to the soft, firmness that receives him. A shaky breath leaves his lips and growing hasty, carefully slips you out of your thin tank top in a swift motion which makes your breast freely bounce without the fabric on the way.
Most certainly is not ready to behold your perky breast at full display.
Shit! This girl has a nice rack, who would have guessed you had such good taste in women. Sukuna voices and his possessed hand lands placidly over your left mound and to Yuji’s horror, squeezes hard until the plump flesh is slipping in between his rough fingers and his long, black nails are about to break the skin.
“Knock it off! You are going to hurt her.” Yuji is quick to snatch the borrowed hand by the wrist and the curse opens his fingers.
Oh, I see…you just want me as audience to clap at your performance. He spats, amused. Well, I’m not giving you the hand back… so, take this as your first lesson at sharing.
Pulling the limb out of Yuji’s grasp, Sukuna hooks the index finger in one strap of your panties and without ceremony drags the fabric down your bare legs earning a soft groan from your parted lips.
The pink haired boy is about to reach for the rebel hand when your glistening pussy claims his entire attention. A look of pure lust gleams in his brown eyes and Sukuna seizes his chance to change positions.
His mouth materializes in front of the borrowed open palm and his tongue darts out to give a tentative lick to your engorged lips.
Your body unwittingly trembles and his smirk grows feral.
Lost for words, Yuji glances back at your face when you emit the most sensual little gasp and your body begins to squirm under the king of curses ministrations. His large, fat tongue is licking you like a freshly open lollipop and his saliva is coating your pink lips, each lick delivered with such precision it looks almost painful to bear.
Coming out of the daze, Yuji launches for his hand and unplucks Sukuna’s eager lapping tongue from your wet core.
“I said stop, dammit!”
Agh! What now, human!? He chastises, annoyed at the interruption. It’s pretty obvious you are a vulgar virgin who doesn’t know shit about properly touching a woman…so, pay attention and you may even learn something. 
“I’m done with your silver tongue for one night, Sukuna, give me back my hand!” he mutters, angrily.
The moment I give you your fucking hand back her eyes will open wide awake, shitty brat, we have a deal!…I keep her complacent and you lend me a hand…easy peasy! Now stop ruining my fun and get your own!
Yuji feels against the wall and the blade. If you ever find out what he is doing, you’ll hate him and surely never talk to him again. His heart aches just thinking about it and the curse sharing his body senses the fear running through the vessel’s veins.
Too bad, someone is obnoxiously in love…he thinks, patronizingly and knits some dark suggestions for the inexpert boy to follow. He will have his fun but apparently only if this brat stops interrupting.
Tell me, brat, have you ever tasted pussy? He asks, bluntly and Yuji’s face turns as pink as his hair, giving him away.
“Ah-hh…That’s not of your-r business–”
So, no! I can already guess that you haven't done anything fun, you've probably just held her hand for a minute before imploding in your pants. His burst of laughter is cruel but thankfully is short as well.
Unfortunately, I’m a captive witness of how many times you jerk yourself off with this girl’s name as your mantra but what I’m really curious about…Sukuna pauses to transfer his mouth to Yuji’s chest and uses the borrowed hand to held his chin before continue.
…Why are you wasting precious time fighting me when you can have her at your expenses. Fuck her mouth, cum all over her tits, wrap her hand around your cock and make her pump you until you burst—for all I care. Just let me have a little fun, that’s fair deal, isn’t it?
The king of manipulators knew how to pull the strings of temptation fairly well and on purpose had left your cunt out of the proposals, he wanted to enjoy it before the boy destroyed it.
Yuji thinks it through, he may never have another chance to be this near, your so vulnerable like a unwrapped gift waiting for him to claim it. He wants to make you feel as good as you make him feel just by merely breath.
Glancing at your nude figure his crotch sharply awakes to remind him of his promise of release and feeling his heart skip a beat, you stir trashing a little in your sleep and accidentally your hand gently falls on top of his and the pink haired shaman’s will melts like an ice cream under the warm rays of sun.
“Fine-” gulps. “Just promise me you wont hurt her.”
Hurt you? You were going to cum so many times it will hurt but in a good way. But of course that is not what comes out of his mouth. Sarcastically putting his borrowed hand over Yuji’s chest he crosses the boy’s heart. I cross your heart not to hurt her.
Yuji knit his brows at his taunting and Sukuna lazily adds. You know what I mean, princess, don’t be so touchy.
Sharply exhaling air through his nostrils, Yuji releases his wrist and hesitantly, his focus returns to you. His left hand goes out of his line of vision and his eyes widen in awe finally being able to truly admire how pretty you look all relaxed and naked, the moon light washing your nipples and producing a stark contrast with your skin.
In all honesty, Yuji feels spellbound.
Sukuna’s vessel delicately hovers over your sleeping face and gulping, timidly closes the distance until your parted lips are captured by the eager boy in the most slow and devoted kiss anyone could have ever deliver, its intimate and well-thought.
This lip lock is devastatingly tender and meaningful, the way his tongue dances inside your wet mouth ignites your pussy creating new puddles of flavor to the delight of the king of curses furiously lapping at your folds.
Slurp sounds are easily suffocated by the loud moans the pink haired boy emits and separating for sweet air, halts to admire your swollen mouth glistening with his saliva. Feels himself start to loose control and his innocent intentions rapidly turn carnal.
Yuji wants to cover each patch of your soft skin with his fluids, Sukuma was right…he needs to cum on your tits, fuck your mouth and jerk off with your warm palm but he lacks time.
So, he’ll choose his poison for the night and seals your lips for himself with a greedy kiss. His hand gropes your mounds of flesh and relishes in the softness of your bare skin, it feels like silk under his fingertips and it gives him the final push he needs to lose what little restrain he held.
Quickly stripping from his suffocating clothes, he gets back on the bed and hauls your limp body until fits nicely flush to his, skin to skin contact, Yuji takes a moment to enjoy the body heat your proximity produces and taking your arm, gently bends it around his neck for your nipples to greet his face.
Bashfulness is overshadowed by his arousal and he plops the soft flesh into his mouth, devouring your nipples with tentative licks, plunging the hardened nub to tease it with his tongue.
Enthralled forgets about everything and rejoices at how your nipple gets harder and harder the better he sucks, greedily pumping your delicate mound up and down like a newborn.
The king of curses delivers you a third orgasm which shakes your whole body in your tender sleep and opening a diabolic eye is amused out of his mind when sees the supposedly harmless virgin sucking at your nipple as if his life depends on it.
You should try it when there’s milk. His comment is left ignore in the air, for Yuji is willingly slaved by you. Only you exist for him.
Your cunt is trembling from exertion and Sukuna feels satisfied for the moment. He has eat you out like a ravenous beast, almost obsessing with the way your folds twitch and quiver as your juices soak his mouth and now you deserved a well earned rest.
Now you just need to unplug the boy sat on top of your ribcage, straddling you, one hand wrapped around your breast while greedily tries to hump your tits.  
The eager teen has change position and his throbbing cock is nested in between your mounds but his task is left incomplete at the lack of pressure.
“Sukuna give me back my hand, I need it!” His voice sounds thick and heavy with want, highly different from his usual merry and easygoing tune.
The vessel is lost on his own pleasure and desperate for release. The curse notes, seeing an opening. Why would I do that, brat? what's there for me? He inquires, sharp eye fixed on his vessel’s back as his body bluntly straddles your torso.
“Hurry up, I want to cum before dawn.” Yuji heaves, truly in despair, throbbing dick unattended and leaking precum. “Please, I need to–”
Cum? Yes, I heard you the first time, brat…be smart and make it good for me. Lets make a deal. He suggests, taking pleasure on the way Yuji’s body desperately squirms on top of you.
“No fucking way!” he curses out loud to then. “—What do you want?”
I want more than a hand, next time. He simply asks.
“There is not going to be a next time–”
Sure, Yuji, sure…but we both know there is going to be and I want more than a hand, you selfish bastard. 
“How much more?”
We can deal with that next time…sun is rising you ought to answer fast. The curse teases, sadistic tone hanging from his wicked lips. Tic, tac, tic, tac!
“Fine! Just give me a hand.” The pink haired boy is so lost to despair that he misses his poor choice of words and Sukuna is fast to take advantage.
With pleasure. His voice is raspy and cruel as he engulfs your breast inside his big calloused palm, harsh fingers wrap around its plumpness and his mouth materializes in front of the palm once again to let his tongue swirl your hardened nub.
Yuji sees him lapping at you and even not being a fan of what he is looking at, right now is more occupied using the hand to create pressure around his shaft.
A long, husky groan escapes his throat at the warmth and he starts to pump himself between your abused flesh. Your breast is so perfect for pressing together, creating a delicious massage around his cock.
Eyelids shut and mouth hanging open he can feel himself close, slowly building his orgasm to blow his thick cum all over your face.
“Please (y/n), be mine-e… I need you–… please, stop ignoring me!”
In desperate moans and ravenous speed, his heavy balls tense before his load paints your face with musky ribbons of cum. The boy rides the last sparks of pleasure ripping through his body and his panting chest begins to ease, fresh air fills his lungs, slowly and heartbeat relaxes into a peaceful drum.
Lost in the white state of peace can hear Sukuna’s voice yet his eyes remain close.
Phew! Even I must congratulate you, brat, you made a mess out of your precious darling! The curse mockingly laughs at the image.
You were a real, eye-piercing mess, face dripping with fresh cum, breast glistening from layers of saliva, exposed and abused cunt trembling from overuse. It was a captivating scene for the curse, who thought his vessel was a weak little shit but might be mistaken.
Aiming for the grand finale for their first wicked act–lets hope the kid has the balls for many more. Sukuna’s borrow finger starts collecting beads of cum to plunge it gently inside your parted lips letting the thick milk coat your tongue and slip down your throat.
Yuji’s eyes pop open at the motion and marveled by the filthy action, let the curse feed you his cum until your face is almost clean.
Dawn is upon them and profusely cleaning and making sure to leave your clothes exactly how he found them, the pink haired boy steals one last tender kiss before leave your sore and unknowingly, violated self to rest.
Maybe Sukuna is right and this can be an often occurrence, he wants to memorize all your little bumps, beautiful scars and learn to play you like a violin.
After all, he has to be ready for when you decide to realize that you belong to him and only him.
➡️ JJK NSFW ART
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woso-dreamzzz · 26 days
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Injured (Alba's Version) II
Alexia Putellas x Teen!Reader
Summary: Something is missing
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There is something missing, Alexia thinks that evening.
She isn't sure what it is but she knows there's something. Something should be at home but isn't.
It can't be Olga because she knows Olga is in Madrid with a client and won't be home for another week. Alexia misses her for sure, calling every night to make sure she's okay and ordering little gifts for Olga to find when she finally comes home again.
It's not Jaume because he's already in bed, fast asleep after a long training session after school. He's been doing well in school, solidly in the middle of the pack with all of his tests and exams. He's balancing everything very well.
The thought of her son fills her with pride. He's doing so well with his training too, leaps and bounds ahead of those in his age range and only seems to be getting better and better.
Alexia can already see, in her mind's eye, him debuting for Barcelona as a teenager. He's got the talent for it and the drive.
Playing for Barcelona is his dream, to be clad in the colours of the first team and play in a sold out Camp Nou just like Alexia did all those years ago.
She walks around her house, checking doors and windows are locked to try and work out what she's missing.
She checks the mantelpiece, in case a picture has fallen down but there's nothing.
All of Jaume's school photos are hanging up in pride of place for everyone to see. Nothing has fallen off. Nothing has appeared out of nowhere.
The only thing there is a layer of dust that should probably get cleaned up tomorrow when she has time.
But Alexia's not quite sure what she's missing as she heads back up the stairs.
Jaume's bedroom door is slightly open and she can see him snoozing happily through the crack like normal. Your bedroom door is closed.
That's normal too.
Your door is always closed. You always hide yourself away in your room, hidden from everyone else for most of the hours of the day.
Alexia sighs, shaking her head.
She's not quite sure what to do with you.
You finish school this year...
No, that's not right.
You finish school next year?
Maybe the year after that?
Alexia's not quite sure but either way you need to talk to her about your future, about what you want to do with your life.
Ballet is a nice hobby to have but Alexia doesn't know if you're talented enough to make it a job. Nothing has come home for you in a while and there's been no invitations to recitals and performances. To be honest, Alexia doesn't quite know if she's still paying for lessons for you because you never tell her about them.
It hardly matters though because soon enough you'll need an actual job and Alexia needs to know if you'll go straight out into the work force or if you're going to be going to university.
She isn't quite sure what you'd study but your self sufficient enough to know by this point.
Alexia can't remember the last time you've asked her for something but that hardly matters either. You've been independent for a while now. You know how to sort yourself out.
Alexia would just like to know in advance so she can plan her own stuff out like if you're going to need company when touring a university or if you're happy to do it by yourself.
She yawns, finally tearing herself away from your closed door.
It's very late and Jaume's got early morning practice that she's got to drive him to.
He could get himself there all on his own if he really wanted to. He's been very smug about his new bus pass, allowing him to meet up with his friends without Alexia shepherding him everywhere.
But, still, the mornings before football practice are something special between Alexia and Jaume.
Just the two of them in the car together.
They talk about everything and nothing.
It's the perfect time to catch up with her son, Alexia thinks. He's a very busy boy when school and friends and football is taken into account.
He does so much and has so little time so the car journey is always the best time to talk to him and find out what's been going on in his life.
It's a time that Alexia looks forward to every week but it's very early in the morning that they have to leave though so she really should be getting to bed.
Whatever conversation you and she should have can be delayed a little longer.
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dcxdpdabbles · 8 months
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Alfred's Boy Part 5
@donesodone said: I just wanted to know. Is there a continuation of Alfred's Boy in the Works? If not, that's fine. I just love it and want to see it continue.
Bruce didn't realize how quiet Danny indeed was until Wes appeared. He suspected, of course, that no child was removed from their home by a super secret ex-spy if it wasn't a terrible, horrible reason, but still, he was shocked to see the difference.
Alfred's foster son had a weight around him, wearing his sadness like a depressing cloak. It was apparent that Danny was just tired. As if though he hadn't gotten a good night's rest in a long time, even when he was moving about and doing his chores like nothing was amiss.
Bruce will admit that he hadn't realized that Danny was so sad. He had no previous reference to compare him to, so he assumed that the boy was naturally reserved.
If he's honest, he also thought it was impressive how Danny could take anything in stride without so much as a blink.
Finding out his boss was Batman? Another Tuesday.
Tim's photo album of him? Danny appreciates the art behind photography.
Damian burst into his room, covered in bleeding wounds, he just had to have Danny bind? He took lessons from Alfred and appreciated the change to practice.
What he failed to realize was through all those events, Danny had had a lukewarm reaction, as if he had forgotten how to enjoy things.
Now, however, watching him with Wes, he realizes that Danny is naturally bubbly. He smiled wide, talked a lot with his hands, and while the same sass he had seen before was still there, there was more ease in him wielding it.
"Fun Fact: Tango was initially invented to be done between two men, " He hears Wes say, as Bruce walks by the viewing room the two boys were in.
Unable to help himself, Bruce peeks into the room, fighting the urge to lecture Danny. The reason for the lecture is that Danny is currently sitting in Wes's lap, his back to Wes' chest, and both are staring at the book "Useless Information" in Wes' hands.
Not dating his ass.
"So what you're saying is: Tango is gay," Danny affirms, cuddling into the blankets tucked around him, and leaning further into Wes. "The dance of our people."
Wes hums, "If only we could dance."
"Boys." He calls because he really wants to step between them, but Bruce is already doing that against his kids, and he is done being the civilian in Jason's novels. "Would either of you like to go to an opera tonight? I have some box seat tickets a close friend gave me, but I had other plans and didn't want them to go to waste."
Bruce didn't, but a little white lie wouldn't hurt anyone. He could easily buy them before the kids got to the opera house.
Wes's eyes practically sparkled. Bruce knew they would; he heard Wes play some songs from three famous operas the other day while Danny was showering. "Opera with box seats!? I love to go!"
Danny grimaces, clearly not that big of a fan. "Now look what you did, Master Bruce."
"Please, can we go, Danny?" Wes whines, "I'll let you haunt me if we go."
Danny cracks a smile, and Bruce is stunned by its softness. Had he not noticed how empty Danny's smiles have been until now? "Okay, Okay, we can go. But if I fall asleep you can't complain."
"How could anyone fall asleep at the Opra?"
"Easy. It's boring." Steph snips, leaning on the door frame. Bruce hadn't realized she was there. He frowned in her direction, not missing how Wes rolled his eyes.
"Hello, green-eyed monster. How are you this evening?" He said, making Steph eyes narrow. Danny was swinging his head between them, looking confused, but before he could ask, Wes continued, "Want to go with us? Danny needs more people to cuddle, and my visit has an expiration date."
Steph looks taken back, but her whole face breaks into the largest smile Bruce has ever seen on her face in a while when Danny nods, seemingly embarrassed. "It would be nice to have more cuddles. I, ugh, realized I was going too long without them."
Hmm, that's the fifth time the two have mentioned cuddling since yesterday. Bruce knows he ignored Wes's entrance when he got here yesterday, but maybe he should look into it.
If Alfred allowed, of course.
"I'll go get ready!" Steph shouts, racing down the hall. There is a brief pause before a loud "Hey, watch it!" and quick, distant "Sorry, Jason!"
His second oldest stridden into the room, grumbling at the giant front stain on his shirt. A half-empty cup in his hand lets Bruce know Steph bumped into him, making him spill his precious soda.
"Can't get any peace around here," Jason mumbles.
"I can clean that for you, Master Jason." Danny is quick to say, standing up from his seat. Wes lifts his arm to let Danny wiggle out of his grasp, but Jason only shakes his head.
"Nah, it's fine, kid." With one hand, Jason yanks the shirt over his head. Wes drops his book, and Danny's face goes very red. Bruce has a moment of utter horror, but Jason doesn't seem to notice, throwing the ruined shirt over his shoulder. "I was going to shower after some reading anyway. What are you crazy kids up to?"
"O-Oprea," Danny shutters, staring up at Jason with strange emotion in his eyes. Wes looks like a deer caught in headlights beside him.
Jason's face brightens. "No way! I love the opera."
"You do?" We gasped.
"Yeah, though, I'm more of a play guy myself. I love the theater. Once a drama kid always a drama kid." Jason winks and, oh no, Wes looks to be swooning. What's worse, Danny seems to be swooning too.
"Want to come with?" Wes blurts, and Jason considers the invitation carefully before shrugging.
"You know what? Yeah, I love to. Let me go take my shower then get ready. It's at what time?"
"Seven," Bruce answers, stepping in when both boys seem unable to get their tongues to work. Jason nods, and then a wicked smirk grows on his face.
Bruce is instantly weary.
"Let's make this a family event. You guys don't mind, right?" Jason turns back to the boys, shaking their heads like bobble figures.
"The more, the merrier, Master Jason."
"Perfect" Quick as a whip, Jason pulls out his phone and sends a quick message. He leaves the room, but not before calling over his shoulder "I'll meet you in the main doorway at six-thirty."
Bruce's phone buzzes. He pulls it out, reading the message: Hey losers, Danny wants to see the Oprea. The really romantic one. Do any of you want to join us?
He feels a headache coming on. Especially with Wes and Danny looking at each other with shocked open mouths, looking like they were wordlessly expressing how attractive they thought Jason was.
Tim comes sprinting down the hall. Bruce is unsure what he is doing, seeing as his hair is wrapped in a towel, but he is wearing half of a chicken costume as he runs by. "I want to go, I want to go, I want to go! Don't leave without me!"
Wes squints at the open door hallway before laughing that strange, impish laugh of his. "This place is a riot."
Danny pauses before that same soft smile blooms on his face, and Bruce's heart melts. "Yeah, I like Wayne Manor too."
Maybe Danny isn't as happy as before, but maybe one day he will be. Bruce would be content with that.
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latenightdaydreams · 1 month
Text
Cowboy!König x Farmer (fem pov)
MDNI🔞
Master List ✍🏽
>cw: fem/afab, mention of death (widow), p in v, spanking, oral
2.3k word count
Set in 1890's America
🤠
.
.
It has been exactly four months and seventeen days since your husband, Henry, passed away. The two of you decided to leave your dull city life for the excitement of the untouched wilderness. Everything had been going perfectly. In only five years the both of you were able to build a beautiful home, a big barn with animals to fill it, and enough crops to feed yourselves and sell. Success to the point of needing to hire extra hands. It was the American dream.
It’s just you and a failing farm. The work just continues to pile up and you never seem to be able to catch a break. With no other options, you set off into town looking for help. You hang fliers in the local stores and on street posts, hoping someone reliable will respond. All you can do is wait.
Only just two days later while you’re outside feeding your chickens, you see a black draft horse approaching. You place the bucket of feed on the floor, wipe your hands off on your blue jeans, and adjust your cream-colored button-down shirt before walking towards him. As you approach you notice that underneath the cowboy hat is an odd t-shirt like mask covering his face.
“I hope you’re not here to cause trouble.” You rest your hand on the pistol resting on your hip as you continue to approach him.
“Nein, no trouble, Fräulein."
His thick Austrian accent takes you by surprise. Your eyes look over his body as he gets off of his horse, taking note of how massive this man is. He looks down at you with his pale blue eyes squinting from a smile.
“I’m König,” he holds his hand out to you, “I saw your fliers in town.”
“I’m, y/n. Have you worked on a farm before?” You weakly shake his hand, your body so exhausted from hours of work and no rest.
“I grew up on one in Austria.”
You cross your arms keeping your defenses up as you two speak. There are so many questions running through your mind about his mask, but you decide to not ask. Never in your life did you think a 6’10 giant would be the one to show up.
“Well, as the post states; I can’t pay much but I can offer food and a room to compensate.”
The fact that you can’t afford to pay the standard rate to a farm hand makes you feel ashamed. There used to be three workers and now it’s only you. You can feel the heat in your face begin to build as you wait for him to reject your offer. Without him, you might not be able to keep the farm past this coming harvesting season.
“That sounds like a good deal to me, Fräulein.”
A small smile cracks at the corner of your lips as he agrees. There is a wave of relief that washes over your body. The possibility of getting the farm back to its glory days lingers in the back of your mind.
“Come with me, I’ll give you a tour.”
You turn and start with showing him the farm land before walking inside the home. It’s a two-story farmhouse, well taken care of by your husband. On the walls there are two photos; one of you and your late husband and the other of your parents. You notice König eyeing them, but he doesn’t ask about it.
Up the stairs and around to the left is the spare room. It was supposed to be a nursery, but those hopes of a family died with your husband. In the corner is a single bed and a wardrobe on the wall. It’s not a must, but it’s all you could afford.
“Here is where you’ll be sleeping.” Your eyes follow König as he walks past. His muscles are so big the ripple though the tight blue shirt he’s wearing. His thighs would be so nice to sit on. Henry was a skinny little man. You didn’t know men could be this big. “There are some house rules. No parties, no drinking yourself dumb, and please clean up after yourself.”
König places his small bag on the bed; clearly, he travels light. He nods as he looks around and then his eyes land back on you. The beautiful shade of light blue is only accentuated by the black mask covering his face.
“Ja, I promise to follow the rules. When do I start?”
“You can help me now. All of the animals are fed, but the stalls need to be cleaned out.”
“I’m on it.” König says as he walks past you. You get a whiff of his musky smell from his travels. Deep inside you feel wrong but, on the surface, you can’t help but to be aroused by the man.
You wait a moment before going outside to tend to the crops. Right now, you just need to remain focused on the farm and Henry’s vision. There is no time for men in this life.
You march down the stairs and head to the barn to grab your tools. Once you enter the door you see König with the pitchfork shoveling the animal manure, just as you asked of him. Except his shirt is now off and resting over one of the hooks on the wall. His body is glistening with sweat as his muscles flex with each movement. Trying to not get caught staring, you turn and grab what you need quickly and leave. The sound of your heart beat echoes in your ears, what is wrong with you?
The day passes until the sun begins to set. You’ve noticed that König took the liberty to go around the barn and fix things that have been broken for a while. His work ethic only makes you feel even worse for not being able to pay him more.
A few days pass, the both of you have slowly begun to build a routine. It has been nice to have him around the house, the chores no longer seem unmanageable. There hasn’t been much conversation, but you steal glances of his body everyday when he’s outside.
Today as you’re bent over planting seeds, you feel a warm hand rest on your lower back. You can feel a tingle crash over your body as you stand and turn to him. Your bodies are so close that you can feel the heat radiating from him. All you want to do is rub your hand down his chest and feel his sweat on your body.
“I can finish up; you should go inside and rest.” His eyes flicker back and forth between yours causing your heart to flutter.
“No, it’s okay—”
“Bitte meine Liebe, let me finish.”
You nod slowly. His hand drifts from your back to the curve of your rear before dropping off. The look he gives you melts you completely. Thanking him once more, you walk forward and towards the house. You turn back to look at König and see his eyes following your hips before he continues working.
As you turn the corner, you realize that you forgot your jacket in the barn. You walk back and see it lying next to König’s shirt. With your jacket in hand, you look around before grabbing his shirt. Bringing it up to your face, you take a deep breath in, savoring his scent.
“Liebling, I thought I told you to get some rest.”
König’s voice causes you to jump, accidently dropping his shirt on the ground before turning around to face him. You can’t seem to find the right words to attempt to talk yourself out of this situation; it’s embarrassing.
“I’m so sorry, I know this must look—”
“Like you were smelling my shirt.” König says with a certain cheerful tone in his voice.
All you can do is nod, you’ve been caught; the thought of him quitting makes your heart drop. Words escape you; how does one apologize for this? You pick his shirt back up and hand it to him.
“I’m sorry.” You repeat in a meek tone.
König looks at you for a while before slowly approaching you. His massive hand ups the side of your face and tilts your head back for you to look directly into his eyes. A chill travels over your body.
“That’s…very naughty of you.” His voice is almost a whisper as his other arm wraps around the side of you, pressing you against his chest.
You look up with wide eyes at his response; it isn’t what you were expecting at all. Before you can say anything, his hand squeezes your soft plump ass through your jeans. He gently grinds his hips up against you, making sure you feel how aroused you make him.
“You are simply stunning, Liebling.” König growls in your ear, goosebumps travel all over.
Both of his hands move down to unbutton your shirt, every button felt like it was taking an eternity to undo. The way he looks at your bare breasts like a hungry beast causes your pussy to tingle, a rush of desire pulsing throughout your body. He gently pulls his cowboy hat off and places it on the wooden stable behind you, pulling off his mask as well.
You see a long and deep scar that travels down the right side of his face. It isn’t a turn off for you, he’s still a handsome man. With one hand you reach up and caress the right side of his face gently, König presses his face into your hand as he relishes your touch.
He leans down and wraps his lips around one of your nipples while he unbuttons your jeans. The feeling of his wet tongue swirling around your nipple causes you to let out a soft moan. Your fingers comb back his messy blonde hair as you watch him with closed eyes enjoy your body.
The fabric of your jeans brush along your legs as he pulls them down off of your body along with your underwear. His large hands caress your legs from your calves up to your thighs. He pulls away to look at your full body; your eyes drop to his hands to see his erection straining against his jeans. Your eyes follow as he stands up, towering over your much smaller frame as his hands undo his pants. In this moment you didn’t feel like a widower or even the stress of the farm. It’s just you and König.
A tiny yelp leaves you as he lifts you up and holds you in his arms. Your legs wrap around his waist while he walks with you to the barn wall. His lips crash into yours in a passionate kiss. You pull him to you, deepening the kiss. He tastes strongly of tobacco and smells like sweat from working in the hot sun all day.
König pulls away from the kiss, leaving your lips wet and craving more of him. His eyes look hazy, drunk at this moment. Then you see the head of his cock press against your sopping wet pussy. His once pale blue eyes are now blackened by his pupils.
With one harsh thrust, König shoves himself inside of you. A loud moan leaves your lips as your face scrunches with pleasure. König is such a strong man that he so effortlessly holds you and moves you down on to his cock to meet his thrust.
“Y/n.” He huffs your name.
No words can even be formed as your body experiences new heights of pleasure you’ve never felt before. His cock is monstrous, bullying itself inside of you. Your short finger nails dig into and drag across his pale skin, reddened from the blistering August sun.
Animalistic groans leave König as the most pathetic mewls leave yours. His body leans against yours as he presses you harder against the barn wall, his hips bucking up rapidly like a man in heat. You feel a way of electricity as his tongue licks across the side of your neck. He covers your pulse point with his lips and begins to lightly suck.
Beads of sweat begin to drip on your body, both of you growing increasingly slippery. He gently puts you down, but quickly grabs you by the back of your neck and walks you over to a stack of hay. Not being too rough, he bends you over the stack and presses your face into the hay.
You form goosebumps across your body as he gently caresses down to your hips, grasping them firmly. His pace continues, but you feel his heavy balls slapping against your swollen clit. Your eyes flutter back as one hand reaches behind you to push his chest.
“Too much.” You whimper.
König doesn’t listen, grabbing your arms and folding it behind your back instead. He reaches for your other arm to also hold it that way, one of his hands wrapping around both of your wrist to keep them together. Your ass ripples with every merciless thrust only bringing you closer to orgasm.
You can feel your pussy clenching around his cock, a low moan leaving him in response. This is just too much. The strong build up of ecstasy radiates from deep inside of your core throughout your whole body. In response to this sensation you tremble, König’s name being the only thing you can say as you cry for him over and over again.
“Can I—” König begins to ask, but before he finishes his sentence you can feel his cock begin to pulse deep inside. His heavy body leans forward and rest on you, pressing you more into the hay. He gives your marked neck soft kisses as your body takes every single drop of his cum.
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steddiealltheway · 7 months
Text
It's Cass Day!!!! Happy happy happy happy birthday @henderdads. i love you so so much, and I'm so thankful that you let me plot all my fics and ficlets (including this one ha!) in your dms. (and of course, I'm thankful for you forever and always for everything). I hope you enjoy and have a wonderful birthday :))))
Wednesday afternoons are Steve’s favorite afternoon out of the whole week.
There’s something about pushing a squeaky cart around the local grocery store and making small talk with the Wednesday regulars - a gossipy book club of moms who do their shopping at the same time so they have more time to complain about their husbands - that really fills Steve heart. (Or maybe it’s just the slight bitchy side of him that loves to rag on Elizabeth’s husband Tom who really needs to get his head out of his ass and appreciate the beauty in front of him, and of course he can’t forget Charles, Lisa’s dick of a husband who apparently doesn’t know what a date night is, oh! And Margaret’s husband Al… and really, he could go on about these husbands for hours without getting tired of it)
Really, he loves the routine of it all. And the way the women dote on him for being so kind to his girlfriend back home - which he constantly reminds them is not his girlfriend. But he sometimes wishes the groceries in his cart and the scribbled list in his hand was for someone he could go back home to greet with a kiss. (After giving Robin a hug of course, because in any fantasy, some of those things on that list and in the cart are always going to be for Robin).
But really, it would be nice to have someone to brag about to the group. Maybe bring up their spirits that love is not lost and-
Steve stops in his tracks, all thoughts gone from his head as he does a double take at the magazine rack near the checkout. And yeah, he knows that Corroded Coffin is popular. Hell, he’s seen Eddie’s face on the same rack at least five times before. But never like this.
The picture on the front page is taken at a lower angle, with Eddie clad in leather pants and a tight mesh black shirt that might be a crop top, but Steve can’t tell with the way Eddie’s guitar is covering his midriff, hands flying over the frets, showing off silver rings glimmering under the stage lights including the one that Steve helped Dustin pick out for him as a celebratory gift. But as Steve’s eyes trace over Eddie’s bare arms and the stark black tattoos, he’s led to wild curls perfectly framing Eddie’s face which stares down at the cords, mouth parted in an ‘o’ shape and eyebrows knitted together in concentration in a way that makes Steve feel weak in the knees.
And Steve’s suddenly hit with the question: Why didn’t anyone tell him that Eddie was hot???
He snatches the magazine off the rack before he can even really think about it, and tries not to think of what the moms will say about him when he leaves.
Maybe they’ll stop assuming he has a girlfriend at home at least.
During his drive home, he can’t help but think about the magazine laying between the loaf of bread and carton of ice cream that were packed together by the newest bag boy - which the ladies have a lot to say about, but Steve can’t think of anything besides that damn picture.
Once he’s back at the apartment, he puts the groceries away at an alarmingly fast rate, before making his way to the couch and laying back with the magazine in his hands.
It’s nice to see Eddie on the front cover of a magazine without it being attached to some weird scandal that Eddie had nothing to do with. Usually it’s an ill timed photo because he always happens to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. But this time…
Steve let’s out a deep breath and flips through the magazine, hoping that there’s some type of interview with more pictures that he can secretly stare at and panic about later.
There’s a bunch of boring looking articles and ads until he spots a page with bright red lettering and a number of pictures. Steve can’t help but wet his lips when he opens the page to find a picture of Eddie smiling at something off camera, looking totally different from the front cover. He just looks like… Eddie.
Yet, Steve finds his heart racing even harder at this picture, missing those dimples and that glimmer of mischief in Eddie’s eyes that’s usually directed at him. And Steve suddenly wonders what or who Eddie's looking at, feeling a bloom of jealousy in his chest.
He glances away from the picture and scans the page for another one. He smiles when he sees Eddie with the rest of his band mates, leaning heavily on Jeff while pulling his signature expression, nearly elbowing Jeff in the ribs to do his devil horns.
Steve laughs at Jeff’s face scowling down at him while Gareth and Frank cackle beside them. He wonders when they’ll be back in town.
Wait.
Steve dog ears the page before running up to his calendar where Robin had written “Dustin’s favorite day ever” on the upcoming Friday.
“Oh no,” Steve mutters to himself. That’s way too damn soon for Eddie to come home after Steve’s realization. He needs to give him at least two weeks to panic and process.
Okay, if Eddie was there with him, the panicking and processing would probably happen in two hours- no, minutes- maybe even seconds. But giving Steve two days is not the right amount of time. That’s just enough time for Steve to really start and settle into the panic. But hey, maybe he can dedicate the next twenty-four hours to panicking and the twenty-four hours after that to processing. Right?
Absolutely. He can do this.
-:-:-:-:-:-
"Robin, I can't do this."
Robin rolls her eyes at him. "I can't believe one picture wrecked you."
"It's not my fault! It's the damn photographer and whoever put that picture on the front cover," Steve complains, running a hand through his hair. "They're the ones who made me think of him like that."
"Uh huh."
Steve glances over at Robin who looks completely engrossed in painting her nails a deep purple color that looks black from where Steve is standing. He glances at himself in the mirror, nervously styling his hair before picking up the magazine from where it has made a permanent home on the coffee table. He flops down on the couch next to Robin who yelps and groans, "You made me smudge my nail polish!"
"We have more important things to worry about than the state of your nail polish."
Robin carefully cleans around the edge of her nail, stained with the dark color before turning to Steve. "Yes, the sudden realization that Eddie is hot is very important to me."
"You know what I mean," Steve sighs, leaning back against the couch as he opens the magazine to his favorite picture of Eddie in this edition. He looks at it for a moment, immediately closing it when he realizes he's smiling.
Robin blows on her nails and frowns before glancing back at Steve. "Okay. He's going to be here in less than an hour. How can I help you? Although, I really don't think you'll need my help at all."
"What do you mean?" Steve asks, a pinch forming between his brows.
Robin gives him a look. "You're going to act weird around him. He's going to eventually pick up on it. And then you're going to confess all these feelings you're having and then..." Robin has a sudden look of realization and immediate disappointment. "Then, I'm going to have to find somewhere else to stay tonight since you told Eddie he could stay here on the couch, which is not going to happen after your little confession."
"He's going to leave?" Steve asks quickly in confusion and slight panic.
Robin huffs, "No, he's going to be staying in your bed. And I really do not want to hear that."
Steve frowns. "You don't even know if he thinks I'm hot."
A look passes over Robin's face, first humor, then a bit of confusion, disbelief, and, once again, disappointment. "Steve," she asks, grabbing his hand, eyes staring hard into his. "This whole time you've had the magazine, you never read the interview?" Robin asks as if it's the most important question she's ever asked him.
"Why would I read it?" Steve asks with a shake of his head. When Robin's jaw drops, he gets the sudden message that he is definitely missing something. He snatches up the magazine and flips it open, somehow not getting to the interview right away although he was sure that he opened it to that page so much that it permanently creased the spine.
Just as he gets to it. There's a loud, persistent knock on the door.
Steve's and Robin's eyes meet in a panic. "Hide the magazine," Robin all but hisses as she makes it to the door raising her voice to say, "We have neighbors! Keep it down, dingus!"
Steve looks around, wondering if he can shove the magazine under the couch, but he knows Eddie would somehow see it in his antics. When he spots the stack of magazines on their side table, he rushes to put the magazine right in the middle of them. Hiding in plain sight. Perfect.
He stands up as soon as the door swings open, trying not to look guilty and failing miserably, only to breathe a sigh of relief when he realizes it's only Dustin. "Henderson," he says with a goofy smile launching into their handshake and ending it with a quick laugh, knocking off Dustin's hat to ruffle his hair.
When Dustin starts complaining about his hat being on the floor, Steve bends down to pick it up, only for a pale, ring-clad hand to grab onto it at the same time Steve does.
Steve glances up and locks eyes with Eddie. His heart starts to pound at an alarming rate as he takes in the familiar deep brown irises, moving on to take in the slight blush on Eddie's cheeks alongside a wide smile. "Steeeve Harrington," Eddie drawls out, the way he does when he hasn't seen him in a while.
"Munson," Steve says with a nod, a wide smile tugging at his lips that he tries to push down, as he always does when it comes to Eddie as if pretending not to care. The same way he does when he's trying to get someone to like him...
Oh.
Shit, he doesn't just think he's hot. He likes him. Hell, he's liked him for a long time even. And now he has even less time to panic about that.
Steve glances up, finding that Eddie has stood up, hat still between their hands as he stares down confusedly at Steve. He offers a hand, and Steve takes it, easily being pulled up into his space. He lingers close to Eddie, eyes dipping down to his lips, realizing how much he wants- needs this.
He glances up at Eddie, finding his pupils blown wide and his brow furrowed. And Steve finally feels that electricity that he's been searching months- no, years for.
"Am I getting my hat back?" Dustin asks, clearly annoyed.
Steve and Eddie both shove the hat over at the same time, eyes reluctantly leaving each other, only for Steve to see Robin giving him an unimpressed look. He can practically see her trying to figure out who she's going to call to spend the night with.
Steve glances back at Eddie and rushes out, "It's- uh, good to see you again."
Eddie grabs a strand of hair and pulls it in front of his face, kicking nothing as he says, "You miss me, Steve?"
Steve shakes his head automatically, "No." He turns to Dustin and asks him when the others are getting there, but his question is answered when the door opens behind them again.
"Do you guys knock?" Robin asks, stealing the words out of Steve's mouth.
"Do you guys lock your door?" Mike snarks back.
Steve sighs and moves to Robin's side, watching as the kids all greet Eddie excitedly. "Why don't they greet us like that?" Steve quietly bitches.
"Because we're not famous and gone all the time," Robin answers with a frown. "By the way, tonight is going totally as I planned."
Steve rolls his eyes. "No, it is not. I have been acting completely normally around him."
"Yeah, because you two have the tendency to eye fuck each other for an uncomfortable amount of time." Robin pauses and considers what she said. "Actually, I take that back. You two are acting completely normal."
"Since when do we-"
"Hey," Eddie says, successfully cutting Steve off, "When the pizzas get here, I'm paying."
Robin nudges Steve in the side after a few seconds pass, and Steve can't help but stare at the man instead of processing anything he said. "Hmm?"
"I'm paying for the pizza you all ordered," Eddie says, brows still furrowed. "Are you okay?"
Steve nods and crosses his arms. "Yes, it's just that we didn't order any pizza."
"But Dustin said..." Eddie trails off and glances at the kids. "Those little shits."
"Someone needs to give them a stern talking to."
Eddie raises his brows. "Are you shirking your co-parenting duties while I'm away?"
Steve huffs out a laugh. "Don't worry, I'm keeping your sheep in line."
Eddie offers him a big smile and leans in to say, "Sorry, I can't be here often, sweetheart."
Steve shoves him away with a roll of his eyes, ignoring the way his heart flutters at the nickname. "Go do your part and entertain them."
"And pay for the food!" Eddie reminds him yet again, walking toward the group, eyes not leaving Steve.
"My hero," Steve says, taking a page from Eddie's book of dramatics by crossing his hands over his heart and fluttering his lashes.
Eddie stops in his tracks, looking over him before shaking his head and going to the table where everyone is setting up.
"That was painful to witness," Robin says, scaring the shit out of Steve. She crosses her arms. "Did you really forget I was here?" When Steve doesn't respond, she walks away, muttering, "Unbelievable."
Steve runs a hand through his hair, willing his heart to slow down before he has to sit through this long-ass campaign - that he secretly really enjoys, but no one except Robin will ever know.
-:-:-:-:-:-
A few hours later, Steve finds himself giving the kids hugs as they rush out his door, nearly missing their curfew. When they make their way to Eddie, he whispers to Robin, "See, the night didn't go as planned at all."
Robin raises her eyebrows at him and whispers back, "Yeah, you're not going to act weird at all when you two are alone."
Steve gives her a panicked look. "What do you mean- you're not leaving are you?"
Robin throws her hands up in a shrug as she backs up into her room, leaving the door open as she very obviously packs an overnight bag. Steve wonders if there is any way to stop her without alerting Eddie.
"What's Buckley doing?" Eddie asks, startling Steve. Eddie reaches out and lays a hand on his shoulder. "Are you okay? You've been on edge all night."
Steve nods automatically. "Yeah, I'm fine." And yeah, he is fine. And he has not been on edge at all because that would mean that Robin is right.
Speak of the devil... "I'm heading out tonight! You two have fun," Robin says with a salute. "I'll see you tomorrow." Before Steve or Eddie can stop her, she's already out the door, leaving them entirely alone. Steve doesn't even remember when the kids all left.
"I'm guessing you know what that's about," Eddie says, eyebrows disappearing under his bangs as he stares at the door.
"No idea," Steve replies, making his way back to the dining area to clean up the remaining mess the teens made, and really he was going to have to give them another lecture about cleaning up after themselves.
"Steve," Eddie says softly.
Steve hums in response but doesn't dare to look his way as he stacks up various empty plastic cups.
"Steve," Eddie tries again.
And Steve knows that tone. Knows that if he fully engages, Eddie will want to have a serious conversation which is not something they often do. So he just keeps cleaning until there's nothing left to do except brush imaginary crumbs off the table.
"Steve," Eddie says, voice impossibly close to him.
Steve takes a deep breath and turns to him, heart skipping a beat when he finds Eddie hovering in his space.
"What's going on?" Eddie asks gently.
Steve shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair. "Nothing." He quickly moves away from Eddie, grabbing a napkin off one of the kitchen counters and tossing it into the trash on his way to the living room.
"Why are you acting weird?"
"I'm not," Steve says, resting his hands on his hips in the same way he does when the kids start to annoy him.
Eddie raises his eyebrows and crosses his arms, staring but not saying anything.
Steve stares back, jutting his hip out in a show of how adamant he is about his answer.
After a few tense seconds pass by, Eddie slowly walks closer to him, and Steve fights for his eyes to not flicker down to his lips. When Eddie is within arms reach, he leans forward. "Steve, what is wrong?"
Steve shrugs nonchalantly, but his eyes betray him and flicker to the stack of magazines beside the couch. He tries to keep his features carefully blank, but he sees the moment Eddie realizes there is something significant about that glance.
Before Steve can stop him, Eddie is diving down to the magazines, snatching up the whole stack in his arms. Steve moves forward to grab them, only to realize his error when Eddie scoots back and smiles wildly. "This is it, isn't it? What, did you hide a filthy magazine inside here or something?"
"Eddie..." Steve warns, standing above him, hands still on his hips.
Eddie smiles before turning his eyes to the stack and leafing through them. Steve moves down quickly, knocking the magazines out of his hands as he practically straddles Eddie. He stares down at him, eyes wide, about to move back when he notices Eddie's eyes resting on his stomach.
Steve glances down between them only to see the image of Eddie on the front cover staring back at him.
"Shit, I didn't know they released that yet," Eddie says, laying fully back, hands dragging over his face. He lets them rest there before spreading his fingers to ask, "You read the interview, didn't you?"
"No," Steve says honestly.
Eddie frowns and props himself up on his elbows. "When did you get this?"
"Wednesday." And curse his damn mouth for rambling without his permission.
"You got this two days ago but haven't read the interview?" Eddie's expression shifts from fearful to cocky. "Steve Harrington, did you buy this just to stare at me?"
"No," Steve says, crossing his arms.
Eddie sits up fully, and Steve becomes very aware of the way he's still sitting on top of Eddie's thighs. "Did you get all flustered about this?" Eddie asks, holding up the magazine teasingly.
Steve's eyes flicker to the front cover again, and his lips suddenly feel very dry. His tongue darts out to wet his lips. He glances back at Eddie and shrugs. "You look fine."
"Has anyone ever told you you're a bad liar?"
"Has anyone ever told you you need to get your ego in check?"
Eddie smirks at him. "Why would I need to do that when I know Steeeeve Harrington bought the magazine with my face on it?"
"Stop saying my name like that," Steve says, leaning forward trying to be menacing, but only satisfying Eddie by getting closer to him.
"Why? Steeev-" Eddie's cut off when Steve suddenly moves forward and kisses him, hands flying up into his curls to pull him closer.
Steve stills before pulling back, searching Eddie's eyes.
"You...?" Eddie asks before raking a hand through his hair. "You actually bought it to stare at me?"
Steve rolls his eyes. "You already knew that since I'm 'such a bad liar,'" Steve says adding air quotes.
"I was hoping you were. Christ, Steve, this?" Eddie asks, holding up the magazine.
Steve runs a hand through his hair. "You look hot!"
"Christ," Eddie says again, this time dropping the magazine to pull Steve into another kiss. He breaks it to mumble, "I can't believe you haven't read the damn interview." His hands run through Steve's hair messing up the strands before he pulls back suddenly. "Wait."
"Yeah?" Steve asks as Eddie's eyes practically glaze over in panic.
Eddie's chest heaves for a second before he says, "Fuck, you bought it because you thought I'm hot not because... fuck." He looks away from Steve and stares down at the magazine as if it personally offended him.
"Huh?" Steve asks, knees starting to ache on the hardwood floor. He climbs off of Eddie with a groan, but Eddie must take it wrong because he almost immediately stands up.
"Sorry, it's stupid," Eddie says with a humorless laugh. "Hey, do you think Buckley will be upset if I take her bed for the night? It's been a long day, and I'm about ready to clonk out."
Steve can feel his face morph into an expression of bewilderment. "Eddie, what?"
Eddie shakes his head. "Yeah, you're right. Dumb idea. Robin would kill me. I'll take the couch like usual."
Steve carefully stands and steps into Eddie's space, but Eddie sidesteps him easily. He watches as he flops down on the couch, refusing to look at him.
Steve's eyes settle back on the magazine, reaching down to grab it to find whatever the hell is in that interview.
"Steve, please don't."
Steve ignores Eddie the same way he ignored him, opening the magazine to the same page his eyes have landed on several times before. His eyes settle on the image of Eddie before moving to the words, skimming before he finds his own name staring back at him. He backtracks, looking at the question and answer.
Do you guys have any sources of inspiration?
Jeff: Oh, Eddie sure does.
Frank: He has what you might call a muse back at home.
Eddie: Please shut up.
Gareth: A beautiful muse with the most beautiful hair you've ever seen.
Eddie: Please stop talking about Stevie.
Jeff: He's just shy when it comes to his little crush.
Eddie: Next question, please.
Steve glances up at Eddie who sits red-faced on the couch. He clears his throat. "They told me they would cut it out entirely, but then they reached out later saying it was too good not to publish, but they did me the favor of changing your name to something more feminine so they didn't out me. Still fucked though. I'm sorry you got pulled into this mess."
Steve looks back at the magazine and then at Eddie. "Is it true?"
Eddie groans and lays back on the couch dramatically. "Please don't make me answer that. I've gotten enough shit from the guys, and I know you don't feel that way about me. It's okay that you only find me hot, I'll take what I can."
It hits Steve all at once what Eddie's sudden dramatics are about. "Oh my god. Eddie, I like you, too!"
Eddie's head pops up. "What?"
Steve turns the magazine to him and points at the picture of Eddie laughing. "This is what I've been so flustered and weird about. Yes, the front cover made me realize that, hey, I find you really attractive. But I've been staring at this picture for way longer, and I didn't know why until you got here tonight. And it hit me that I like you. I think I have for a long time, but I just didn't connect the dots before."
"You like me?" Eddie echos, dumbfounded.
Steve laughs. "Yes, I wouldn't have kissed you if I didn't have feelings for you."
"That's a fucking relief," Eddie says, scrambling off the couch and racing to pull Steve into another kiss.
Steve smiles into the kiss, pulling Eddie as close to him as possible as Eddie attempts to do the same.
"I'm going to give that photographer the biggest tip ever," Eddie says breaking the kiss for a moment only to kiss him again.
Steve smiles so wide that he can barely kiss Eddie back. When they break away, Steve says, "I'm going to have to buy another."
"Why?"
"I have to get the front picture and the interview framed," Steve says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.
"Of course," Eddie says with a laugh before wrapping his arms around Steve and pulling him in close. "I missed you so much."
"I missed you, too," Steve replies.
They hold each other for a while, not willing to break the moment until a sudden thought has Steve groaning.
"What?" Eddie asks, pulling back to look at him.
"Robin was right."
Eddie smiles. "When is she not?"
"Never," Steve answers simply.
They stand in each other's arms just happy to be so close, taking each other in as if it's for the first time. Steve wonders what to tell the Wednesday regulars and how they'd respond if he introduced Eddie to them. He thinks back to Lisa's comments about how the group should just date each other and how Sarah had responded with a little too much enthusiasm, and Steve thinks things will be just fine.
"What are you thinking about?"
Steve shakes his head with a smile. "What are you doing this Wednesday?" he asks, making a mental note to add two frames, another magazine, and Robin's favorite ice cream to the list.
"Anything you want," Eddie replies easily.
And with that, Steve finds himself looking forward to his Wednesday afternoon even more than usual.
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drabblesandimagines · 6 months
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Leon Kennedy x female reader, commissioned piece Lots of dumb fluff ahead! Thanks so much to the lovely @porcelainseashore for commissioning me with the brief of Leon using a dating app! I've said it before and I'll say it again - please do go check out Porcelain's fics! x
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“So,” Leon places his elbows on the counter behind, leans back and flashes a winning smile, “how about dinner later?”
The auburn-haired woman waits for her coffee to finish dispensing before she shakes her head, lips pursed. “No, thank you, Agent Kennedy.”
“Oh.” He was sure they’d had some sort of connection. Their eyes had met across the office on more than one occasion, flirtatiously so – had he read it wrong? “You have plans already tonight?”
“Mm, something like that.” She smiles, politely, picking up her DSO-branded mug and heading out of the break room without so much as a glance back.
Leon shrugs it off – he’s good at that – and places his own mug under the spout, about to make his coffee selection when a familiar voice chirps over his shoulder.
“Have you ever thought of internet dating?”
He spins round, surprised. “Claire?”
“Hi.” She waves with a smile. “So, internet dating?”
Leon’s brow furrowed, about to ask why she was here, but from the visitor lanyard around her neck it was clear it was down to some sort of TerraSafe business, but why is she going on about internet dating?
Oh.
“Wait, did you hear…?”
“The dinner invite? Oh, yes.” She nods, crossing her arms. “Does that ever work?”
“Yes.”
Claire quirks an eyebrow.
“Okay, not recently.” He retorts, turning back around and pressing the button for his black coffee to start dispensing.
“Uh-huh…” She steps forward, turns to lean against the counter to look at him. “I’m telling you, Leon - internet dating. I finally convinced Chris to give it a go about six months back, and he seems pretty happy. Been seeing a nice girl for three months now – a florist.”
Leon shakes his head, watching the coffee dispense with feigned interest. “Surprised Redfield went for it. How the hell do you introduce anyone to what we’ve seen?” At least with women from work, he didn’t have to skirt around what the hell he does all day.
“Heard of keeping work and homelife separate?”
“And Chris manages that?”
“I mean, she knows what he’s shared with her, but he took it slow. It’s not like the government can keep everything secret these days – not with everyone having a smart phone.” Claire grimaces, remembering the videos of the Alcatraz attack popping up on social media on a live stream. It was taken down pretty quick, but still popped up occasionally. They can’t hide it forever.
“Anyway, enough about Chris’ love life, I’m trying to help yours. Have you tried it? There’s websites and apps…”
Leon recalls a week of medical leave – battered, bruised and laid out on the couch on high doses of meds, flipping through the cable channels and losing hours to a show about people falling in love over the internet, only for the person to be using a fake photo of an entirely different identity and being crushed when they met in person.
“Isn’t that where the catfish are?”
Claire rolls her eyes. “We won’t set your radius that large.”
He looks down, a little confused. “My… radius?”
Leon’s not present on social media, but that’s hardly a surprise with his work. Maybe, if things had been different, he would’ve trawled through it at some point – joined a group for graduates from the Police Academy of ’98, checked in, gone to some sort of graduating class reunion where they would’ve swapped stories from precincts over a lukewarm beer or two in a hall dressed up with balloons and streamers.
Come to think of it, he doesn’t really remember the names of anyone in his graduating class, though he’s not sure if that’s down to a certain amount of knocks to the head throughout his career getting to him. He could look them up – they’ll be in some sort of database somewhere that Hunnigan could help him locate, but what would he say?
“Me? Well, I had one day on the job – hell of a first day, actually – and then I was ‘recruited’ into military training, so technically not a cop anymore either.”
“Phone, please.” Claire has moved to sit down at one of the small tables in the kitchen, now holding out her hand expectantly. He finds himself joining her, mug of coffee in one hand and the other pulling out his cell from his suit jacket pocket. He hands it over because it’s Claire and he’s known her long enough now to know she’s not going to drop the subject so easily.
“Have you got any selfies on here?”
“Don’t think so. Why?”
“To put on your profile. Anything I shouldn’t see in your gallery?”
He shakes his head.
“Seriously, Leon?” She must’ve opened the app by the way she’s scrolling down on the screen. “These are all sunsets and photos of your motorcycle.”
“What should I be picking pictures of?”
“Oh, wait… Here’s one.” She turns the phone around. It’s him, grinning, next to a corpse of a zombiefied lion. “I repeat – seriously, Leon?”
“Ha, yeah.” He smiles in acknowledgement. “I was trying to get Hunnigan interested in fieldwork with the spectacular sights.” Claire turns the phone back around and the sound of a camera shutter clicks out of the speaker.
“Ooh, that’s a good candid – and no-one needs to know what you were looking at.”
“Look, it’s nice of you to offer, but I don’t know about all this…” He rubs the back of his head.
“It’s 30 days free. Just try it and if you still don’t like it by the end of the trial, you can delete it off your phone and I won’t bring it up again.”
He stalls, taking a long sip of his coffee as he thinks. Claire means well, after all and if Chris has had luck with it, considering what Leon knows he’s seen and lived through, what does he have to lose, really?
“Fine. 30 days.”
“Great! Now, let’s set up your profile…”
--
Claire had given him a tutorial – swipe left if you’re not interested on a profile, right if you are. If the person swipes right in return, it’ll set you up as a match and you can start a conversation – signaled by a small speech bubble icon appearing on the bottom right.
It wasn’t until that evening that Leon tried it out properly, sat on his couch, killing time before bed and begins to swipe through. It feels a little odd – he usually likes to get to know a person somewhat before offering out his dinner invite, but this is mostly on looks alone, with a tiny snippet of profile information – age, location, what they’re looking for.
He swipes right on a blonde, her profile full of photos from beach vacations or something, says she’s not too far away from him and is ‘looking to connect with someone deeply.’ A chat box pops up immediately and after a moment or two, three dots show Beauty – he’s not sure that’s her real name - is typing.
Hey, big boy. What’s bigger – your forearms or… An eggplant emoji?
Oh.
He hesitates over writing back a response. He can flirt with the best of them, but how is anyone meant to make a genuine connection over this app? Maybe he’s too old for this shit.
He puts his cell down by his side and switches on the television instead.
--
“So…” Claire drawls over his shoulder over three weeks later, tracked him down to his desk.
“So…” He mocks back with a tease, swinging around in his office chair.
“Any good dates recently?”
He laughs. “How do you even get that far?”
“You’ve not gone on one?”
“Not for lack of trying.” It’s true. After Beauty, he had struck up conversation with a few more genuine girls that seemed to be going well until he’d broached the idea of a date and they’d drop off the radar. “A couple seemed interested but then stopped replying. I got one date – she didn’t show up.”
“Oh, come on.” Claire leans against his desk. “That can’t be everyone. Let me see.” There’s the expectant hand again. He sighs, picks up his phone and opens the app before handing it over to her.
She sets to scrolling through new arrivals for him, before she pauses. “Well, this one looks sweet.”
“Claire, I appreciate your concern but I just don’t think this app is for me. I gave it a go, I swear.”
“I know, but you’ve got a few days left on the free trial at least - you won’t lose anything. Just take a look?”
He takes the phone back and looks at the screen – a cropped picture of you, it looks like, your friends’ arms around your shoulders, a big, genuine smile on your face. Not a pout or a smolder in a night club mirror.
“Aw, you’re smiling.”
“Fine.” He swipes, but the message bubble doesn’t pop up. That’s the one thing he doesn’t like about this app – you never know if the other one will swipe back.
“No match.”
“Give her a moment,” Claire elbows him, playfully. “Not everyone is scrolling for dates at work.”
“Hey-”
“Speaking of, I’ve got a meeting. See you!”
--
You throw yourself down on the bed, a little bit tipsy after an evening of drinking with your friends, and hold your phone dangerously above your face – you’ve been so close to giving yourself a black eye from the drop so many times but never learn – and open up that stupid app. Your friend had encouraged you to sign up to it after declaring you’d been in a pity party for long enough now after your last break-up and it was time to get back out there.
You scroll through the latest arrivals, swiping left as you go. Everyone internet dates now, you don’t know why you only seem to attract utter creeps on it. You’d been on a few dates, but they’d all been entirely awkward outside the safety of the chat box.
You pause on one new arrival, Leon, 41, the first photo in the set clearly a candid. He’s dressed in a suit – no tie. Businessman, you wonder? Amazingly hot and maybe the most shiniest hair you’ve ever seen.
You roll over onto your stomach and swipe right, smiling when a chat bubble appears.
--
Leon had just settled into bed for the night when his phone vibrated angrily on the bedside table. He threw a hand out, blindly, and looked at the screen, half expecting it to be an email from work or a message from Hunnigan.
It’s neither – a notification from the app.
Hi, Leon. Thanks for swiping. Can I ask something?
He frowns – a unique opener, but it could still go the way of the others, he reckons. He’s not a prude, per say, but he’s seen a lot more than he was intending to these past few weeks. He backs up and has a quick scroll through your profile, vaguely recognizing your face from when he’d swiped right earlier that day – the girl Claire had deemed sweet.
Hi – ask away.
A bubble appears with three dots within.
How do you get your hair that shiny?
Leon barks out a laugh - definitely refreshing.
I’m sorry, I don’t think we’re at that stage of our relationship yet where I’m comfortable sharing my beauty secrets.
Please? Mine is so dull.
He clicks on your profile again and onto the photos but can’t see why you’re worried about your hair. Truthfully, all he registers when he looks at the picture is that sweet, genuine smile.
Looks pretty good from what I can see.
The camera adds all the shine. Are you using a filter?
Trust me when I say I wouldn’t know how.
Don’t know about filters but using a dating app? That doesn’t gel.
My friend suggested I give this online dating thing a go, so here I am.
Well, you’ll have to thank your friend for me.
Leon hesitates a moment, before shrugging it off.
I’ll be sure to, especially as it’s got me talking to you.
Your scalp tingles, but it seems nothing to do with the alcohol consumed earlier.
Too cheesy? I told you I’m new to this, right?
Nah, you’re gouda.
Leon grins.
--
The conversation continues to flow over the next few days. You talk about work – he keeps it vague, works in the government, can be called away on business trips last minute – and you are equally elusive in your response of office work. Internet safety, he reckons, smart girl that you are. Hearing his phone ping with a notification has quickly become his favourite sound.
Nice day? Definitely. Picked up my motorcycle – it’s been in the shop a while. Dare I ask what happened? He hesitates. Chasing a bioterrorist down a highway is perhaps a little too much…
Hit by a truck. I wasn’t on it - obviously.
Jeez. Insurance not just buy you a new one? I can’t think how that’s salvageable.
It’s my favourite, I couldn’t give up on her. You ever been on a motorcycle?
Uh-uh. Too scared.
What of?
Falling off, mainly.
No danger of that if you ride tandem - just need to be sure to hold on real tight.
You bite your lip, mulling over a response, but Leon fills the gap.
And I’d look after you, of course. Make a nice first date, don’t you think?
First date? That’s more, like, third or even fourth date material.
There’s your chance, Kennedy – don’t mess it up.
Well, then we better get the first date out of the way.
You bite your lip as you type back a response. Is that your way of asking?
If it is?
If it is, then I’m free Friday...
Perfect.
--
Friday morning arrives and Leon’s at his desk, typing up a report when his phone chimes. Checking over his shoulder, he pulls it out of his pocket and smiles when he sees it’s a text from you. You’d exchanged numbers the other night, deciding it time to take communication off app ahead of meeting up.
Morning. Question?
Morning. Still after my shampoo secrets?
Yes… But not that. How am I meant to recognize you?
I thought that’d be easy – by how shiny my hair is, apparently.
It’ll be dark out, though.
Is this you trying to be subtle about asking for another photo?
No comment.
Leon locks his computer, the screensaver switching to today’s date and time on a black background. He swings his desk chair around, looks around again to make sure no-one’s on their way past, and opens the camera app. He flips the viewfinder around and tries out a couple of smiles before snapping a selfie – if Claire could see him now…
He sends it through.
Included the time and date and all. Happy?
No comment.
Well, how will I recognize you?
Easy. I’ll be the one coming up to you and saying, “Hi, Leon.” See you tonight x
Until then x
--
The two of you had decided to meet at a bistro – varied menu for all tastes, not too intimate, excellent wine, spirits and craft beer menu.
Leon is nervous as he stands to the side of the entrance – an emotion he hasn’t truly entertained since 1998. There had been no time for it when bioweapons and death were staring him down the face. But, tonight… Well, he’s out of his element on this one. Leon had only ever approached women through work and, yes, it was to varying degrees of success but they’d already seen him properly in person, heard his voice, aware of what he does. There was a horrible niggle at the back of his mind that the date who had stood him up a few weeks ago had caught sight of him and turned heel on the spot.
He looks down at this watch to see it’s bang on 7.30. He’d arrived ten minutes too early, but didn’t want to chance being late and showing up in a fluster. When he looks up, slipping a hand back into his pocket, a figure with a familiar face is walking towards him, greets him with an anxious smile and an awkward half-wave.
God, you’re adorable.
“Hi, Leon.” 
“Hi,” He smiles, one hand still in his pocket, the other hanging down by his side. He wonders if he should’ve gone in for the kiss on the cheek, but he’s missed his chance.
“Erm…” You wring your hands together. “You okay?”
“Great. You?”
Why does he feel as giddy as he did when he picked up his girlfriend for prom back at high school?
“I’m good. It’s nice to put a… voice to a face?” You laugh – light and airy - and Leon’s already desperate to hear it again.
“It really is. Er, shall we?” He gestures forward with his arm.
You nod. “Let’s.”
The conversation is stagnant at first, a sentence here or there as you peruse the drinks menu and move on to ordering starters and entrees. With a little liquid courage, though, the two of you soon slip into easy conversation.
It’s just after the appetizers are cleared when Leon realizes he’s completely and utterly smitten.
You don’t even know where the time has gone, but all of the sudden the two of you are the only diners left and it’s clear the wait staff are looking for you to leave so they can begin their nightly clean down.
He follows you out and onto the sidewalk, a few metres away from the bistro entrance, standing awkwardly opposite each other – mirroring the beginning of the evening.
“So, fancy a ride?”
You tilt your head at him curiously before you burst out into laughter and he grins, rubbing the back of his head, awkwardly, as he realizes the context.
“I mean, I brought my bike here. I can give you a ride home - on my bike.”
You smile. “Not on the first date, remember?”
“Of course.” He nods. “Sticking to your principles – I respect that. Well, can I call you a cab?”
“Oh, actually, I’m gonna walk. I live just in that building over there…” You point up to an apartment building about halfway up the next block.
“I could walk you across the street?” He cringes as he realizes maybe he’s coming on too heavy-handed. “I’m sorry, I promise I can take a hint-”
“No.” You cut across abruptly. “I mean, walking me home would be nice.”
You cross the road in silence, both wrapped up in your own thoughts. You wish you lived slightly further away so you’d have longer to work out what to say, how to end the night.
“So…” Leon begins the other side of the road, the entrance to your apartment block just ahead. He’s trying to keep calm and collected, but there’s just something about you that has made his heart race, his palms sweaty. Don’t fuck this up, Kennedy. “I had a really lovely evening.”
“Me too.” You smile back – and you mean it – but you can’t help but brace yourself. Is this the part where he says, yeah, he had a nice time, but he’d rather not do it again? It seems all too good to be true. He’s the same as he was on the phone, messages and photos.
“Great…” You take a deep breath at his pause, unconsciously clenching your fists, “..cos I was wondering how you felt about a second date?”
“You’re really desperate to get me on that motorcycle, huh?” You tease, instantly relaxing. “But, seriously, I’d like that, to see you again.”
“Is tomorrow too soon?”
“That depends what you have in mind.” You stop, suddenly – the apartment foyer to your left. “This is me.”
“Well, we’ve done dinner, shall we work backwards and have lunch next?”
You take a step closer. “And then breakfast?”
“Fourth could be a midnight feast?” He steps forward too, misjudging the distance and something hard brushes against your stomach. Leon’s eyes widen in alarm. “Oh, wait, I…” He dips his hand into his trouser pocket and pulls out a travel-sized bottle of shampoo with a sheepish smile. “I meant to give you this at the end of dinner – my beauty secret.”
You yank him forward by his jacket collar and kiss him before you can even think properly about what you’re doing. You step up onto your tip toes to deepen the kiss, a hand bracing yourself against his chest for a moment before you mean to step back, maybe even apologise for pouncing on the man, but Leon’s arms wrap around your waist, holding you in place, kissing you back incessantly before you both have to retreat for breath.
“Well, if I knew the shampoo would get that reaction I would’ve started the night off with it.” He murmurs, pulling away and resting his forehead against yours. “I gotta ask though - you’ll kiss on the first date, but not ride a motorcycle?”
You shrug, half-heartedly. “One’s more dangerous than the other.”
He kisses you once more, softly, ending with a teasing nibble on your lip.
“Oh, we’ll see about that, sweetheart.” -- Masterlist . 1,000 followers event
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toast-on-dandelioms · 3 months
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🕷️Just Another Neglected Story🕷️
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[previous] - Part 4.1 - [next]
Any names that you find familiar, in this part, were taken (with permission) from the fanart made by @the-broken-truth, while some changes like description of what's happening were made by me then modified by my beta reader, my bbg, Jamie.
tw: Joker, angst/no comfort, small description of injuries, small description/mention of a panic attack (I am unsure if it was that, please tell me if I am wrong).
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Weeks passed with you still being Spider and a 'normal' teenager at the same time. But some changes and new things happened in these weeks.
You got visited by Superman almost daily, or nightly since he always visited when you were patrolling at night. You never questioned how he knew where to find you, you didn't want to think about it and just let him follow you during your nightly patrols.
He also helped you train while using all of your strength because you usually held back in fear of hurting people, so his tips helped a lot  considering that he also had the same problem before.
Furthermore, now that you started to help with small problems around Gotham, like small thefts and gang problems, those problems started to slowly stop, giving you more time to train with Superman and help around the community.
You still didn't join the Bats or even the Justice League whenever Superman tried to propose it, you just didn't want to fight big shots like Joker or other super villains.
You liked doing small things and loved seeing the change it brought from you helping.
Just defeating super villains won't reward you with a pie from the nice old lady after helping her move her things in the apartment and give her groceries if she can't go to the supermarket, or getting drawings of little kids after you help them go home safely.
You also scored candies whenever the moms had them, which made you incredibly happy because they always had the candies you loved. 
So you were happy, especially since Alfred never mentioned your breakdown after that night and kept on the usual routine of leaving your food on the desk in your room so you wouldn't have to come down to the kitchen.
You did notice him acting a bit weird but you pushed those thoughts aside since you didn't really notice anything weird happening around the Manor so you thought he was just nervous for something Bruce did.
You gave him too much trust and sooner than later you will regret doing that.
But something did change around the Manor, you just didn't notice because you started to walk on the ceiling, without shoes or Alfred would kill you, to avoid annoying encounters with anyone in the house, even if listening to music while on the ceiling was a bit difficult but you’re managing.
Well, Alfred knew that if he walked to Bruce and told him about you and what you felt he would've been ignored, especially since Bruce barely remembers that you even exist in the Manor and that you're a member of the family.
And even if Bruce did remember that you exist he would be annoyed, especially since he clearly hated your mother and was only paying the child support because he had to, especially since your mother threatened to take him to court if he wouldn't pay when he first got the news.
Talking to any of the batkids would've also been useless, because he also knew that no one in the Manor remembers you, especially now that you could walk on walls no one could even see you.
He couldn't count how many times he almost got a heart attack whenever he could see you on the ceiling, just hanging out or doing your homework, even though he still didn't understand how you could work without gravity making everything fall.
So he decided to do it in small steps, starting with leaving photos of you around the house in places where everyone sees them.
He put almost every picture that he owns of you, like you at a dance recital as the lead dancer or you at a science fair to which you won first place with an invention of yours.
One thing Alfred knew by putting your photos was that every person would notice how in all your photos you were alone and how your face never showed any emotion.
He knew it was small but he couldn't wait anymore, he needed to take action now or before you decided to leave for the Kent family, he couldn't let you go after he heard you talk about Clark and Conner while he made food in the kitchen.
He just hoped it wasn't too late for you, especially with your break down. He hoped you could still let someone in after all these years of being alone.
He did try his best but he was only a butler and he couldn't change someone's view of another person if that view was filled with hatred.
And you never noticed thanks to your walking on the ceiling or walls, moreover, you couldn't care less if they actually noticed you now. You were finally moving on and having a new start thanks to Spider.
But now it's not the time to think of Alfred's attempt of getting you acknowledged by the family, you were getting busier thanks to all the work as Spider, school and also dance classes.
You also kept on using yourself as a test subject, just to check the process of the spider DNA that's now in your DNA and seeing if anything changed or you had some mysterious new powers, taking videos to record the process of your evolution with the now Spider DNA in your body.
One thing you acquired after a while was invisibility, or camouflage as you called it since invisibility sounded magical and you didn't want it to sound like you were a kid.
How you found out you could use it was not a good experience.
You were in the kitchen with Alfred, just hanging out with him while he cooked when Damian suddenly entered the room to ask Alfred for some food for a new pet that he adopted.
In your panic at the sheer thought of Damian seeing you and hurting you like he did in the past made you freeze up, squeezing your eyes shut in hopes that he would just disappear from existence. Praying to every god you could recall that Damian wouldn't find you, you tried to not breathe too loudly so he wouldn’t hear you.
After a few minutes of paranoia passed and you didn't hear anything around you, you slowly opened your eyes and saw Damian still waiting for Alfred to give him the food for a cat he adopted and completely ignoring you.
You were still scared he would see you so you stayed silent and waited patiently, albeit apprehensively, for him to go away before actually making a sound, which was a loud sigh of restrained relief as air poured back into your lungs. Somehow you hadn't noticed that you'd been holding your breath the whole time. Strange.
You slowly got down from the counter you were sitting on and walked up to Alfred, confused as to why the old man wasn't looking at you and instead was looking at the ceiling before softly calling out his name.
You got even more confused and slightly worried when he got scared since you were standing right in front of him but he, for some reason, couldn't see you.
After a bit of Alfred trying to explain that he couldn't actually see you and you not understanding why, you finally managed to make yourself visible.
You quickly went to work at the corporation to take a few tests to see what happened and didn't see anything with those tests but after a few days of trying to understand what happened and how you could make it happen again, you managed to go invisible on command.
It took a bit but you managed to do it, which got extremely useful to sneak into the kitchen when you need to get some snacks in the middle of the night so that Alfred doesn't catch you on the wall eating chips at 3 am.
Plus thanks to that time you found out that your eyes glow in the dark, which was a bit weird since the spider that bit you wasn't a bioluminescent one but you figured it was your own DNA that changed some things.
In the time following that discovery and training with Clark, you slowly started to join him in solo missions for the Justice League, but made sure to tell him that you didn't want to partner up with another person except him.
And you made sure that he knew you weren't an official member of the Justice League or of the Young Justice League, you just joined him so you wouldn't get rusty since Gotham is still filled with crime but fighting with teens or men who just swing a crowbar or knife is not really challenging.
You didn't want anyone except Clark to join those solo missions, not because you were scared of hurting another person since you learned to control your strength thanks to him and got pretty good with your spider senses.
You just hated being around people you didn't know or trust, especially if they were a member of the Wayne family, you absolutely detested them.
You refused to look at them and especially talk to them even though you had the voice modulator.
One of the many reasons you used the voice modulator was to not get recognised but also because you hated your own voice and the voice modulator helped when talking to lost kids or just kids in general.
You never told anyone why you hate your voice, you just refused to talk one day and learned asl to communicate with people and also used notes if people didn't know asl.
The mask was like a hearing aid, it changed your voice and helped you use it more so you could talk sometimes.
As time passed, the birdies (basically all of Bruce's kids, you just called them all bird to show how much you didn't care about them) kept on trying to talk to you and showing up where you were when you were patrolling.
You had a list of most annoying to less annoying since you couldn't really do much about them, especially since Clark forbade you to throw another one of them off a roof if they got too close to your liking or just breathed wrong.
They never sustained grave injuries since you always threw them to another building or a dumpster, or to Superman if he was around.
Most of the time in a dumpster to make yourself smile since you would take a photo then swing away before they could do anything, but they started to pose whenever you would take a photo, making you annoyed and ruining your fun.
The most annoying was Dick, with how persistent he was even if he was stuck on a wall thanks to your webs when he got too close or made you uncomfortable by continuing to call you nicknames that he would use with Damian and Tim.
You hated how he would just laugh and call you his little sibling, especially since he would never call you that if you didn't have a mask on and you felt that it was unfair that he suddenly cared about you just because of the mask.
It made you feel like you were getting ignored and forgotten once again but this time to a version of you that he likes while the one behind the mask is always getting ignored.
Just like at the Manor, the real you will never be appreciated and accepted with love.
The second most annoying in the list is Tim, it was gonna be Damian but Tim took second place with how creepy he is around you and how he knows too much of what you do.
Like, you knew he's the one who knows everything about every hero and villain since you saw him work on the bat-computer while you were stealing a few grappling hooks for your web shooters since they broke. (You were invisible and you got lucky that Cassandra wasn't there or she would've found you immediately.)
But seeing him open a folder and watching how many videos and photos he has of you in the bat-computer, like when you were fighting some gang members or when you were helping some nice old lady crossing the street.
If anyone else showed you their collection of you doing badass or just normal stuff while you were a vigilante then you would've felt impressed and very honored because you never thought someone would actually go out their way to be a fan of you.
But seeing Tim, someone you still had some respect for, having so many files, especially from when you first started and hit so many walls while swinging around made you weirded out and somehow violated, especially with how concentrated he was while staring at the videos.
Seeing that folder and all the information he had on you made you lose all the respect you still had for the boy.
Another thing he did was that, whenever you met him while patrolling or eating a few hot dogs with your favorite guy, he would always talk of things you did like he was there and creeped you out so much that you had to restrain yourself from throwing him off a roof or wherever you two were.
Most of the time you just tased him and went your way, paying the hotdog guy a little extra so he wouldn't stop selling you hot dogs.
You're also starting to think that hot dog guy is using you for the tips since you always tip him 50$ or more to stay silent and let you grab more hot dogs from him.
Third annoying but still so annoying that you want to punch his face is Damian. Mostly because he treats you like you're his older sibling.
Like he respects you and looks up to you. But you knew it was because of the mask since you also knew that if you ever took off the mask in front of him he would try to kill you.
You have to be supervised by Clark and even Jon since your only solution to get rid of Damian when he’s around you is throwing him off a roof without worrying about not using your super strength.
You hated the kid and didn't really hide it but he never said anything about it since he thought you two were bonding and you acting like you hate him is normal.
You wanted to tase him when he dared to call you his older sibling in Arabic, hating the look on his face that had so much adoration and admiration for you since it actually made him look like a normal teen.
(You learned some Arabic to get close to Damian when you found out where he was from when you were young)
Like he didn't create so many scars on your arms and legs with his sword and those batarangs. Like he didn’t make you so afraid of the Manor that Alfred had to assure you that he wouldn’t hurt you or you would get a panic attack by getting near the Manor.
Least annoying but still annoying is Jason Todd. You hate that mask he wears because you can't see his face and know what he’s really thinking about, and especially how he acts like you two are two old friends who meet up everyday.
You hate how he pats you on the head when you're distracted, since the spider sense doesn't really deem him a threat for you, and manages to evade your attempts to kick him away or throw him off a roof, laughing whenever you try to do so.
Like you two were just playing and you weren't angry at him and wanting to throw something at him but couldn't.
So your one solution was ignoring him and walking to the side of the building so he wouldn't reach you since he couldn't walk on walls like you.
Which did make you smug whenever he complained about it on the roof of the same building, finding it funny when he acted all offended when he understood you were smug by how you were acting even if your mask didn’t show your face.
Yea you and Jason did get along sometimes, most of the time if you were having a nice day and if he was the first one you would meet of the birds.
You had a decent relationship with Jason, yes you did have fun sometimes but you wouldn't call him a friend or even your brother.
Plus you never forgot about the years he would ignore you and especially when he punched you in the eye and didn't even apologize decently.
Or how he would complain about how terrible of a father Bruce is, or how annoying Dick is to anyone else while you would just stand there, completely ignored since he was probably talking to someone else or to himself.
And acted like he was the only one who's life was 'ruined' when Bruce got in his life when he's still loved even after everything he's done.
Even though he's still remembered every Christmas and given big gifts that means that the person who bought them thought of him, and birthday while no one even remembered you had a birthday and you always celebrated it with a cupcake or some friends.
So you preferred to ignore him or you would punch his skull if he tried to complain one more time about Batman and his death.
Not like Cassandra, Duke and Stephanie were any better.
Cassandra was annoying because of how silent she was. You always managed to see her but you knew she wanted you to see her.
Plus, 'hanging out' with her was just you doing your usual stuff while she followed since you couldn't push her away like the others.
And fighting wasn't in the option since she could kick your ass with just a hand and without moving, so you just ignored her, even though your spider sense was always going crazy when she was around since she was a walking threat.
Even five minutes with her would give you the worst headaches that you had to ask her to stand very far or you wouldn't be able to even walk around without wanting to puke.
You hated her because she was taken in by Bruce like you but instead of being hated because of her upbringing, she got accepted with open arms and he always loved her.
What did she have that you didn't?! Why does she get all the attention and love you always wished for while you're getting forgotten and hated?!
You saw her getting accepted, getting all the love you always wished for, seeing your father going to her dance recitals while he didn't even bother to even acknowledge that you do the same sport as her but in a different and smaller dance studio since you couldn't afford to go to the one Cassandra goes because of how expensive even one lesson was.
Stephanie was another person you hated. You knew of her past, you used the bat-computer whenever no one was in the batcave when you managed to control the invisibility.
You knew about what her dad did. You understood her reasoning to become a vigilante. You didn't hate her for her past, god you didn't even care who her father was.
You just hated her because of how loved she was by everyone. She was like Cassandra but once again, all the love was going towards the two and it never even touched you.
You did try to bond with her when you arrived at the Manor but she did look like she wanted to be everywhere but not with you.
Even when you only talked about things you knew she loved, it still wasn't enough for her. She still avoided you and preferred to spend time with either Barbara, Dick or Tim.
And after a bit you gave up and let her live her life without you in her way since she clearly didn't care about you.
The worst part was that everyone prefers Spider than you, since she also keeps trying to hang out with you when you're patrolling or spending time with kids and teens.
Or getting beat during a game of basketball since you sucked at that game and the teens you played with would tease you which made you laugh since you liked spending time with people the same age as you.
But it would be ruined when she would show up, wanting to play too even though she would just play with you and make it obvious she wanted to make you win.
Which ruined the game entirely for you and always made you leave after a bit with the excuse of being busy as a vigilante, which made the teens and also Stephanie confused.
Duke was the only one of them that you knew tried to hang out with you when you weren't Spider. That's why he was one of the ones you hang out with most if he came to see you while you were patrolling.
He came when you were almost 15, you didn't remember how old you were but you knew he was one of the ones who actually paid attention to you.
But after a while, all his duties as Signal, as a high schooler and as one of Bruce's kids made him too busy for him to spend time with you, to which he explained whenever he was late for something you two planned to do.
And you understood, you cheered for him from the back and always smiled at him whenever he was with you as Signal, even if he couldn't see it. And he did tell you the best places to get food during patrols so you liked him for that, but you remained loyal to the hot dog guy.
But then there was Bruce, acting like he was the savior from his kids that kept annoying you even though he wasn't any better than any of his kids, he was one of the worst in terms of how annoying he was.
He was starting to compete with Dick for the first spot on your list, which you didn't like since you just wanted to be alone, or with Duke and Jason.
Like he would keep on calling you kid and other nicknames you heard him give to his sons over the years, which made you sick because it reminded you of when you were little and that your biggest wish was to also get a nickname like your brothers and sisters and spend time with him as your father even if he never paid any actual attention to you.
But what you hated most was how he always smiled softly at you, even when you tried to kick him away and he would just grab your ankle like it was nothing, like you were his favorite child. Like he didn't tell you that he would never be a father to you when you gave him a father's day card when you were 12 and trying to bond with him.
Looking at you with so much love and adoration, making you disgusted since he was the same man who once looked at you with disgust and hatred just for entering his office because you needed his signature for something.
The same man who clearly told you to not expect him to treat you like his child since you weren't. You were just an annoying kid who had to come to his house since no one else wanted to take you in.
You wanted to puke whenever he looked with love, refusing to forget about everything he did just because you were a child of someone he hated.
You understood why Bruce hated your mother, you couldn't force everyone to like what you like, but you still didn't understand why he had to ruin your life by keeping you with him.
He could have sent you to a foster home, he could have sent you to boarding school all your life so he could never see the face of the one he hates. But he didn't.
No, he decided to accept you in his home and ruined your life, making you miserable by keeping you there and then basically neglecting you and forgetting you even exist.
You wanted to puke whenever he looked at you with love when you were Spider, you had to take so many showers and had to scrub your skin so hard it turned red by how hard you tried to wash away his touch whenever he managed to actually touch you on either the shoulders or head.
You found comfort in Clark since he never forced you to interact with the Robins and Batman and understood why you hated them since you explained to him who you were but didn't tell him everything.
He did annoy you whenever he tried to suggest you to come with him to Metropolis even after you explained that you couldn't just move to another city right in the middle of the school year.
Moreover you were still a minor and you would need Bruce's consent, which you refused to ask since you refused to acknowledge that he was supposed to be your legal guardian.
Plus you always had fun with his kids when they were around since they would throw you in the air and catch you, making you laugh like crazy since their throw was like making you fly for like 2 minutes before catching you.
Conner was more fun to be around because he understood what you were going through since he also had problems with Superman when the kryptonian refused to accept the clone as his son.
Plus he always made the best jokes and made you laugh whenever you would have a bad day after seeing your legal guardian and his kids having a fun outing together while you were at the Manor since they didn't even remember you existed.
Or when you had a bad dance practice and almost destroyed your pointe shoes with your strength because you thought you weren't good enough to be a ballet dancer which spiraled to thinking that because of you not being good at dancing then you weren't good enough to be recognised by your legal guardian and his family.
He was more like an older brother than Dick, Jason and Tim ever were for you. And you didn't even care, you loved him as a brother and loved hanging out with him.
Jon was nice but he was also friends with Damian and you didn't really spend that much time with him because of that. You were scared Damian would be with him and you didn't want to see the evil spawn.
But the times you did hang out with him were nice, he always brought cake that his grandparents made and shared it with you while you listened to him talk about whatever he wanted.
He was fun and very nice but you weren't used to hanging around a small teen who actually wanted to be with you and actively seeked you out for your attention.
You were more used to a small teen who would glare at you and attack you if you dared do anything, even just breathing in his direction, the scars on your arms and back proved that.
But you never said anything to Jon about what his best friend did to you, you didn't want Jon to feel like he had to choose between two sides.
And you knew he would choose Damian's side, no one ever chose your side. You knew no one would even dare to be by your side.
Well after a while of going to missions with Clark and him letting you do most of the work as training with his close by to make sure you wouldn't get hurt, you were finally going on a relatively simple mission with Conner and unfortunately with Jason.
You knew Conner didn't want him there but he probably got Batman to convince Clark and him, so you didn't say anything to him about Jason being there and just stayed by his side while you were in the small ship.
The whole ride was spent in silence, only stopped whenever Conner would check the coordinates or by the sound of you fixing the web shooters to make sure they wouldn't go haywire when you were fighting.
You finally landed in the spot where you were supposed to start your mission, near the villain's lair, if you could call it that since it was an unused bunker a group of cultists found and are now living there, which made you get down eagerly since you wanted to finally do a mission without Clark's supervision.
But your excitement immediately died when you saw Stephanie waiting for you there, making you let out a loud string of curses.
And yes, you did ignore the message on your phone from Clark that said 'language' and just walked past Stephanie and Jason, just wanting to get the mission done and go home with Conner.
Plus he did promise you his grandmother's best pie if you finished the mission and you could not pass up the opportunity of getting another slice of that delicious pie.
As you walked up to the lair with Conner, you patted him on the back before standing in front of the door as Stephanie tried to open it by picking the lock. You waited exactly 10 seconds for Stephanie to unlock the door before pushing her away, kicking the door down with your strength since she was taking too long for your liking.
You didn't even care if they were watching, you just glared at them all in silence for a few seconds before they were able to hear you say.
"Stay here and you two don't follow me, Conner don't try anything or I will tell Clark"
Then, right in front of them you became invisible before walking off, the only sound they could hear were of your sneakers walking down the metallic stairs.
(Switch Pov to Stephanie)
Stephanie knew she wasn't the best person. She knew of her father's evil doings and she knew she wasn't the best Robin or the best vigilante.
But when she saw Spider, she thought that they were perfect. They were always helping people and never too busy for everyone.
She, at first, didn't even know who Spider is because of how busy she was with her life and her vigilante job. But when she saw Tim researching them, she was amazed.
She knew there were other vigilantes in the city, it was a big city but she didn't know about a vigilante who didn't fight big villains like the others.
She saw Spider helping old ladies, stopping small gangs from forming by helping the teens and just being an image for the people to rely on.
She knew Bruce stopped high grade villains like Joker or others but Spider, Spider was different.
They didn't fight Joker, no they just fought the criminals who would bother people that couldn't do anything to stop them.
She admired the vigilante and wanted to be friends with them, maybe one day she could convince them to join her and her family at the Manor.
But what she didn't understand even though she craved to know was why they hated her. Why they hated her and the rest of her family.
She tried so much, she craved their validation so much that she trained so hard and tried so many times to interact with them.
But she would keep on getting ignored or she wouldn't be able to follow them by the speed of them swinging or when they walk on walls to avoid her.
She cried so many nights at the thought of her idol, the one person she wanted, no craved validation would hate her so much when she can't even remember or know why they hate her so much.
But when she heard of Jason joining Spider for their first mission, she was so jealous that she used the bat-computer to check where Spider's mission was supposed to be and followed them in another ship.
She wanted to show to her idol how brave she was, so maybe they will praise her and laugh like when they're with Conner, Clark and Jon.
Plus she wanted to wipe Jason's smirk off his face since he kept on bragging about going to a mission with Spider for days and how he was the favorite since compared to the rest of them, he was the one who Spider stayed the longest before leaving or throwing him off the roof.
But all her excitement and hope died the minute she heard Spider curse when they saw her, her head slowly lowering as she tried not to cry.
And when Spider told them to stay there, god she wanted to protest but strangely Jason held her back and just told her to hack in the security system to watch Spider with the cameras.
She didn't understand why she couldn't follow Spider to help them but did as Jason told her to, watching all the cameras with him and seeing henchmen getting knocked out or tased by Spider even though they weren't visible.
Plus she found it hilarious when a goon got knocked out by a flying metal tray and the others just stood there confused before also getting knocked out by a taser or a punch then getting tied up on a wall or floor.
As she watched the security feed, she noticed that Spider entered the boss's sanctuary, filled with small and useless artifacts that the Justice League used to trace the villain so they could capture him and stop him before he tried to grow his cult or summon some demon.
She kept watching and trying to find a camera inside the sanctuary, starting to get annoyed and also panicking a little because if she couldn't see anything in the sanctuary then she couldn't call for backup if something went wrong, especially by how far Spider was, and even if they were going to help them, it would take too long.
She kept on switching cameras and trying to hack into anything that was electronic, getting more frustrated as time passed since she could see the villain approaching the sanctuary with someone next to him, making her confused since he wasn't supposed to have partners that helped him.
She managed to switch a camera in time to see Joker next to the villain, the blood in her face draining as she stared at the clown on her screen in silence, her eyes wide like bugs and no sound could be heard from all three of the teens.
She went back to where Spider was and noticed a camera was on, to which Stephanie immediately tried to warn them by moving the camera a bit but it was too late and both villains entered the sanctuary and closed the door so Spider wouldn't be able to leave without getting noticed by the cultist and the clown.
She watched the feed without moving any part of her body in terror that if she even moved then the two villains would notice Spider and do something horrible to them.
She gasped when she saw Joker suddenly pulling out a gun and pointing it at where Spider was supposed to be, not managing to hear what he was saying since the cameras were old and didn't register any sounds, plus his psycho-smile made it difficult for her to read his lips so she couldn't even use that to her advantage.
As Stephanie kept watching, not noticing that she was holding her breath by how focused she was on Joker then cursed loudly when she saw the screen turn black, throwing the tablet in anger as she got up, making signs for Jason and Conner to follow as she ran into the lair.
She quickly jumped over any henchmen on the ground, needing to get to Spider immediately and save them.
She had to help. She had to stop that psychopath from hurting them. She needed to protect them.
As she ran, her vision was starting to get blurry by the tears threatening to fall as she ran. As she ran, she suddenly got blocked by the metal door that was blocking her from saving Spider.
She immediately called Conner, wanting to use his strength to open the door but unfortunately he couldn't even throw a decent punch that could leave a dent on it.
Even after a few tries Conner didn't do anything so she started to try to open it by using the panel next to the door, her frustration already growing by how useless he was.
So Stephanie sent Conner outside to call Superman and Batman while she and Jason tried to open the door as they waited for the two heroes to arrive.
As the three of them waited for Batman and Superman to come, Jason and Stephanie saw something coming out the door that made their blood cold.
Some form of gas kept on coming out the door and the only thing they were able to hear were some noises of something or someone getting hit and coughing.
Stephanie did smell the gas, trying to pinpoint what the gas was but she couldn't recognise it since the only thing she could detect was that it had a sweet smell, which was nothing like all the gasses she ever smelled before.
The only thing she knew is that the gas wasn't the usual gas Joker uses on his victims since she wasn't laughing or having a maniacal smile but she still couldn't pinpoint what the gas was.
Stephanie stayed silent, trying not to show how terrified she was while Jason was trying to kick down the door while yelling curses directed at Joker.
Conner was outside the lair to use the ship and communicate with Batman and Superman, knowing they were both on different missions and he couldn't fly to both of them to ask for help, especially since he found out that he couldn't even fly, making him even more desperate for them to come.
As they waited Stephanie tried to make Jason stop punching the door when she saw his knuckles bleed, not wanting another one of her siblings get hurt because of her incompetence before looking at the door.
The blood drained from her face, her knees giving up on her and making her fall to the ground as she heard a scream, the cold metal floor the only thing she could feel at the moment.
She knew the scream couldn't be of Joker. He heard him yell before and this scream wasn't his. She hoped for every god as she tried to hack the panel of the door, even though she already tried before, with a bit of difficulty, her vision starting to blur as tears started to fall and her hands trembling as she was trying to ignore the multiple screams she kept hearing.
She couldn't let Spider get hurt, she should've been there to help them. They didn't deserve the pain and hurt she and almost all of the Robins went through because of Joker.
She stopped when she felt a familiar hand on her shoulder, the realization that she was just messing up the wires and making it even more difficult for the door to be opened when she looked at her hands tangled in between the wires.
She looked up at the man and visibly relaxed, completely giving out on the floor as Jason helped her by cutting the wires tangled in her hands while Batman examined what was happening as Conner explained what he knew, Superman next to him and waiting for Batman to give orders since he knew that if he acted irrationally then Spider would be in danger.
(Switch to Bruce's POV)
Bruce knew he wasn't a good person and a hero like Clark and Diana, that's why he called himself a vigilante since heroes save people and stop criminals but he couldn't save everyone.
Sometimes he was too late and he couldn't save someone innocent that unfortunately crossed ways with a villain or a gang.
Another thing Bruce knew was that he wasn't the best father because he let his kids get hurt by going on patrols with him as a vigilante, not thinking about what could happen to them if they fought someone too strong or if he suddenly decided to make them stop being a vigilante by saying that it was to protect them, which made everyone sneak out to be a vigilante.
He had to bury his children too early because of vigilantism and couldn't help his son when he was being trained by the League of Assassins.
But when he saw Spider for the first time, seeing a child that looked no older than 14, maybe 15, made him think that maybe, maybe he could help this one become the best version of themselves.
And if he was good enough, he could be a father again and get another child saved from the darkness and evil that surrounds Gotham.
Even if the only evil Spider saw was him and his family.
One thing he hated was that he couldn't understand why Spider absolutely loathed him and everyone of the vigilantes who live or have lived under his roof.
He couldn't understand why and even after checking every mission he ever did that included helping kids/teens in Gotham, nothing gave him a lead as to why Spider hated him.
And the worst thing was that Spider decided, out of all the heroes and vigilantes in the world, and especially in the Justice League, to trust and get close to Clark.
To Clark! His enemy! He was supposed to be the one teaching Spider to control their strength! He was supposed to be the one laughing with them while eating hot dogs and sharing funny stories of stupid people they say during patrol.
(He knows about it thanks to a small camera he put on Clark’s costume after he found out that he and Spider got close)
He didn't trust letting them go on a mission even if Clark told him that they could and that they were ready.
He thought it was too early and that they weren't trained to fight villains like he and the others fight everyday, especially with Conner since he wasn't perfectly trained so he managed to convince Clark, with much manipulation and guilt tripping, to let Jason come with them if there was trouble.
He didn't know Stephanie would also be there, especially since he didn't talk about it in the batcave about the mission but he already guessed that Jason bragged about going so she also went to also see her idol, knowing about her obsession with Spider to which he didn't say anything but encourage it with his own obsession towards the arachnid vigilante.
Not that he minded, two of his kids were better than none and Spider needed all the protection necessary even if the mission was one of the easiest possible. Especially since he chose it as a way to make sure Spider wouldn't be in actual danger.
But the moment he got a message from Conner explaining that Spider was in danger because of Joker, someone who wasn't supposed to be there in the first place, made his world crumble as he ran to where his jet was, needing to get there as soon as possible.
He couldn't let another person, no he couldn't let Spider get hurt or worse, killed, by the clown bastard.
He needed to save them, he needed to stop that fucking clown and he couldn't let Clark beat him to it. He knew that if he was the first one to save them, to help them then they would trust him more.
He couldn't lose that huge advantage to Clark or it would be impossible to even be able to get Spider to trust him or any of his kids. Which was already difficult but he saw them being more comfortable with Duke and Jason.
He arrived almost 3 seconds before Clark did, even though the kryptonian made his presence known since he made a crater at his landing and looked extremely infuriated as he walked towards Conner.
Bruce was already next to the boy and listening to his explanation on what happened, his usual frown that always made him seem annoyed with everything since he didn't want to show that he was scared.
He listened to superboy as he explained what happened in detail as they walked in the lair, a small smile appearing on his face whenever he saw henchmen and cultists knocked out and all tied up in Spider's web.
As they walked he noticed Conner and Clark weren't flying even if the space was big enough for them to even float, so he approached the boy, knowing it couldn't be Clark since the kryptonian was flying just two seconds ago, to see if he had anything on him and saw a familiar glowing green stuck to the boy's shirt.
He quickly grabbed it and put it in a container to block its effect since he knew it was kryptonite, the result showing on both kryptonians because they now could fly again.
He showed the container containing the kryptonite when both Supers looked at him "it was on Superboy's shirt, not sure who put it on him" he explained, now confused but especially enraged to who dared to interfere with the mission and put Spider in danger.
When they arrived at the door he saw something that made him frown more but also worried. He saw Stephanie continuing to tangle her hands in the wires of the panel next to the door, probably trying to open it but he saw her shaking and sobbing, making him understand that the girl was too focused on trying to save the vigilante inside the room that she couldn't focus on the task she was doing.
He then turned to Jason and saw him kicking the door and punching it, small dents on it to show how much strength he was putting in it and his bloody knuckles showing for how long he was doing that.
Bruce quickly checked on Stephanie and Jason before telling Superman to get rid of the door, the silence around them being too suspicious and dangerous since almost 2 minutes before they arrived both Stephanie, Conner and Jason could hear screaming from inside the room.
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juniperdugong · 2 months
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Photobooth - Wonwoo
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WC: 2.8k || Genre: Fluff, Angst (?) || Ooo they crushing on each other
A/N: We'll call this a late bday present for him lol lotsa fluff, is this also angst? Idk. This is the song I had on repeat writing this, Imagine it during the climax
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You and Wonwoo had hung around the same people for a while, your friend groups slowly merging before you could comprehend it. So it wasn't exactly a surprise that you'd see him here tonight but you're trying your best not to look in his direction all the same.
You guys haven't talked much... or really at all without someone else in the group being there. It's a given seeing as you're both on the introverted side anyway.
Over time you've grown to welcome seeing his face at a party or in a crowd and you've developed a little bit of a crush, one that you definitely did not mean to create. But really who could blame you?
It was Wonwoo. And the way his messy hair hung so perfectly over his face. How his glasses would fog up on occasion. And god... the way he'd lift his shirt up just a tad to wipe them. You might be insane for the thought but there's no way someone that attractive isn't getting gawked at 24/7, like clockwork.
And that's exactly what you're trying to hide as he sits across the table from you. You're drinking more than you had before he got here and you can feel the heat in your face as the buzz sets in. You've been avoiding his eyes as best you can, but you can't help noticing that he's been looking at you very intently since he sat down.
Wonwoo's been nursing a beer for the past 30 minutes, his face still slightly red from the pregame he and the boys did at the previous bar. Now he's sat in front of you. Purposefully he had pushed Dokeyom out of the way to get this seat but now that he was here he had zero idea of how to approach you. He's been trying to catch your eye the entire time but you haven't looked his way once. He goes to speak but is interrupted.
"Guys! I have a great idea!" Your friend stands up to address the table, the fact that most of you are completely out of it only makes it so that several people are cheering her on the moment she rises. "Let's go to a photo booth shop!"
In minutes someone's already handled the bill; No one cares to ask questions this far into the night. And your posse is perusing the streets looking like a bunch of fucked up college students; Not exactly wrong but not right either.
You're hanging back in the pack like you usually do. The cold air hitting your warm face feels so good that you have to close your eyes to take in the feeling. "Hey." You're startled from your daze as you see Wonwoo pull back and wait for you to catch up to him, "The night air?"
"Yeah, feels nice." The silence grows between you two as you continue walking side by side. Neither of you can tell if the heat you're feeling is from the drinks or from the intense blush you feel coming on but both of you are glad that tonight is breezy, the air serving to calm down some nerves. The last time you were alone was that night.
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Not too dissimilar from tonight actually. A bunch of your friends were hanging out at a camping-themed cafe where you could sit around a fireplace. Due to how many of you there were several campfires were taken up.
You and Wonwoo sat a few chairs away from each other, by coincidence you had ended up in this smaller group as a close friend also sat here. It didn't take long for either of you to notice the other. Small glances back and forth and flickering smiles when you caught each other's eye.
Somewhere along the way, almost everyone got up to go and order more food, and as people trickled over to the counter you and Wonwoo were eventually left alone.
The tension was thick with unspoken attraction and you were both waiting for the other to make any moves. Finally, with a lump caught in his throat, Wonwoo got up and sat in the chair next to you. "Y/n, right?" You gave a little nod and chuckled, "Yeah and you're Wonwoo?". "Yep, exactly right."
You guys kept talking and talking the entire night, the conversation never dipping into silence or awkwardness, it felt like you could be here forever and never get bored. It all seemed to come naturally with Wonwoo.
Even once your friends came back the chatting didn't stop. Some of them eye the way you guys had gotten close within a matter of minutes, smirks as they could see the connection forming before their eyes. The way that with each new topic, you guys somehow managed to get physically closer. Scooting your chair to hear him better. Wonwoo leaning in subconsciously as you ramble. Both of you are practically knee to knee by the end of it.
More and more of your group dispersed as it got later in the night but you both were too enthralled in conversation to notice anyone had left until it had gotten dark.
"It was nice talking, y/n." The way the moonlight and campfire gleaned on him made your heart race.
"Yeah, I had a lot of fun Wonwoo." His cheeks hurt from smiling so much and his chest burned whenever anything so much as a smirk was on your lips.
"I'll see you around?" You hoped he was talking sooner rather than later.
"Of course!" He held onto those words like a promise.
It wasn't until you both had gotten into your cars that you realized that you didn't get each other's numbers. Shit!
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It's been months since then. You've seen each other at other hangouts but neither of you had the guts to talk to the other again. Something ate at the confidence you had that night and you haven't been able to look him in the eye since. You'd never thought that you'd have a crush this intense at your age but something about Wonwoo made you feel like a highschooler again.
And he's been the same way, although a bit more direct than you. Every time he's seen you since then he'd try to get closer to you, at least be near you to quench his thirsty lovesick heart with your voice... Even if it's not directed towards him. Just staring at you made him flutter, honestly. He's been festering on these feelings for a while, even since before that night if he was being honest, but every time after that his tongue hasn't been able to form coherent sentences around you. It's like a curse.
A curse that it seems some alcohol can quell, at least for a little bit.
"We haven't talked much, have we?" He starts, the shop is just around the corner yet right now he prayed that it was miles away so he could take his time.
"Nah, we haven't. Not since..."
"Not since the campfire?"
"Yeah."
"Hey! You two! Get inside!" A quaint smile forms on your lips as someone yells for you to hurry up. Wonwoo gives a small chuckle but bites his lip to suppress the touch of anger rising now that your conversation has been cut short.
As you get in you can already see that everyone takes charge in claiming different accessories and filing into photo booths in small groups. You didn't really feel up to taking photos, far too heated from Wonwoo's company from before. Looking around, you spot some fun sunglasses shaped like daisies. They were good enough for photos and who knows? Maybe sober you will like the outcome.
After grabbing the sunglasses you dip into an empty booth and begin going through all the different styles. You're slightly hiccuping and now you can definitely feel the alcohol kicking in.
"You mind?" You'd just settled on the only appealing style out of your choices, one obviously meant for couples, one surrounded by red and pink hearts. Of course, Wonwoo had to interrupt. You have half the mind to tell him you do mind jokingly but you're too swayed by him to joke right now, "Not at all."
Now you're sat squished up in the booth with him. The flush on your face could be explained by the drinks but it's more than likely getting redder due to Wonwoo's presence.
"Sorry, all the others were taken and I didn't want to be left out." An excuse, he'd seen you come in here and he was eager to talk to you again. Alcohol really did wonders for confidence.
"It's fine, really." You smiled a bit in his direction and suddenly his heart is thumping like a rabbit's foot. "I don't even like taking photos..."
"Why not?"
"I never like how they come out."
Impossible, you're like the most beautiful person in the world, y/n. He can't even begin to comprehend your way of thinking. You were the most stunning thing in his field of view whenever you were around, how could pictures with you in them ever turn out bad?
"What?" Fuck Did he say that out loud?
"What?"
"Did you just *hiccup* call me beautiful? Wonwoo."
"I don't know." His eyes are wide and suddenly he feels as sober as a dog. He feigns innocence with a confused stare in your direction and thankfully your drunkenness takes him for his word.
"Wonwoo..." A numbness came over you that allowed for words to spill.
"Yeah, y/n?"
"I think I really like you." Great. Now he's sure he's completely sober. He turns to you, the sunglasses hiding your drowsy eyes as you lean against the side of the booth. And he's not even sure if you'll remember saying this. Great!
"You mean that?" Please say yes.
"Mean what?" You're completely out of it and he can see it, as quickly as he resigns to you forgetting what you said you speak again, "That I like you? I do mean that."
His jaw drops and he isn't sure what to do. Does he run away and grab one of the accessories that will cover the intense heat on his face? No, he doesn't want to leave you. Does he tell you he likes you back? No, that's in vain you're already not all here. Well, you are in a photo booth... He presses the START button.
"Will you be mad if I kiss you right now, y/n?"
You look at him with glazed-over doe eyes, letting the sunglasses slip off your face and fall to the floor. You didn't know if this was some sort of sick joke, a hallucination fueled by the copious amounts of alcohol in your system, or worse a drunken mistake on his part. But it was too sudden a question for you to process the options in this state.
3...2...1...Say Cheese!
"Sorry, I shouldn't have asked-" He opens the curtain to the photo booth and is ready to get up. This was a bad idea. Nothing you said should mean anything to him but it doesn't keep from the pang of disappointment he feels. Suddenly your hand is gripping his wrist telling him to stay seated, and he does.
3...2...1...Give the Camera a wink!
Both of your hearts are racing. The tension of the moment suffocates you guys but you're too caught up to notice the heaving of your breaths. You grab his face with both your hands, trying your hardest to focus on just him. Your stupor makes it extremely hard but you persist with the small amount of soberness in your body.
It takes far too long for either of you to realize as your lips press together. The shock of plush lips lights you ablaze, it's as if someone held a flame to all the booze coursing through you. You're too far gone to know that you're the one that had leaned into him and not the other way around.
3...2...1...Blast off!
If Wonwoo's eyes could pop out of his skull they would. He's nearly out of the frame of the camera as you push up against him. Your brows furrow as you close your eyes getting more into the kiss and now he's feeling awkward with his eyes wide open. He thinks your focus might just be the cutest thing he's ever seen. God, you are all he wanted, huh? A smile creeps up on his lips before he lifts his glasses and deepens the kiss, placing a hand on the small of your back and using the other to gently wrap around the back of your neck.
3...2...1...Silly Faces!
Maybe it's all the drinks but both of you swear that the other's taste is addictive. Your hands travel from his face and down his neck, pulling him in impossibly closer. You're both hungry for each other, if any of the others saw it'd probably look like borderline cannabilism with how animalistic you were going at it. Mouths trying to trace the memory of each other onto the walls of your cheeks.
It was sensual yet innocent, any trace of lust replaced with an intense passion and love. You can vividly imagine the many kisses that you could share with Wonwoo in your lifetime. Pecks on the cheek, goodbye kisses as you leave the house, intense makeout sessions, all of it. All the little quiet moments of intimacy to the burning giant gestures of love, everything with Wonwoo. It's the only sober thought you think you've had all night.
3...2...1...Big Smile!
You release him from your grip, letting your hands rest on his shoulders. Wonwoo's arms hold you in place but loosen ever so slightly. Foreheads resting on each other you just take a minute to take it in. You let your eyes open and meet his, you feel his glasses fall on between you two.
"Sorry." You say as you back away, allowing his glasses to drop back down fully.
The silence is deafening. Outside you can hear as the rest of the group giggles and chatters on, oblivious to what's just happened. You wipe your mouth as you feel a slickness on your lips, your combined spit coating you both.
You're a lot more aware now. The kiss sobering you enough to maybe be able to remember this in the morning but you weren't confident in that thought.
While you're getting that realization Wonwoo's taken the liberty of doing the finishing steps on the photos. Printing 2 copies for each of you and inserting his own email when it asks him if he wants a video of the photo-taking process. Thankfully you weren't looking when he did that, hopefully, he can show you the video at a better time and you can reminisce on your first kiss.
You startle him as you stand up. A solemn look on your face at the thought of all of this being gone by tomorrow. You really wish you didn't drink tonight. That Wonwoo hadn't sat in front of you. That he hadn't stared at you with those eyes, the ones that made you so nervous that you had to chug drink after drink to just get a modicum of confidence. You wish that what happened in the booth had happened not because you were drunk but because you were ready.
He sees the look and wants to say something... anything if it'll make you feel better. He knows all too well that that look meant that you were regretting things.
You reach out to him, cupping his face in one of your hands and swiping at his cheek with your thumb before he can say anything. Biting your lip you look at him, the feelings are all too overwhelming right now.
"Hey Wonwoo, if you remember this in the morning... remind me of it so we can do it when we're sober sometime, yeah?"
With a slight nod, he leaned into your hand and gave a lingering kiss to your palm before watching you open the curtain and walk away. His eyes stayed glued on you through the window of the shop until the moment your taxi came. A hollow feeling overcoming him as the drunkenness sets in again, although he couldn't quite decipher if this down came from the drinks or from the pure ecstasy you gave and so quickly took away, maybe both.
He walked out of the shop, a group of high-schoolers giggling in merriment as they picked out their accessories and got into their booths. The thought of wherever his friends were was purely background noise at this point.
Getting out and into the cold air he stood with his back against the glass, clutching the photo strips in one hand and his phone in the other, he set an alarm.
"Remind y/n".
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A/N: I really really fucking like this one guys, smiling throughout the whole writing process. Also lovelies, for those of you reading Perfection pls know that the upcoming chapter has been delayed till next Saturday! Please reblog and comment your thoughts and as always my asks are open to any and all thoughts!
SVT Taglist (OPEN): @bemybabiibish @bath1lda
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Lucifer Morningstar x Pregnant!Reader Headcanons Part 2
I had a blast writing part 1, so here's some more headcanons of reader progressing through their pregnancy!
Warnings: Pregnancy Mention, Implied Smut
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- He doesn't have a pregnancy kink per say, but... seeing you pregnant with his child does things to him that he can't even begin to put into words. He's always found you beyond gorgeous, of course, it's just that now it borders on literal worship. Said worship will be expressed quite physically on a daily basis; he'll slide his hands over your middle, leave trails of kisses up and down your body, and catch himself staring multiple times even before the two of you get out of bed each morning. He can't even really believe that you've somehow managed to get more beautiful, but he'll consistently try to describe the depths of his devotion in song, gifts, and countless hours spent adoring your presence.
- He'll want to start preparing for all baby related events as soon as possible, in part because the arrival of another heir is going to be quite the occasion, but he also just wants everything to go perfectly. The official announcement will come with multiple days of celebration across Hell, including a massive party in the castle itself, and each event that follows will somehow manage to top the last. You'll get enough gifts to fill up multiple rooms, and so many cards with well wishes you could fill up an entire library, but Lucifer expects nothing less. Every ounce of his considerable power is dedicated to making sure you get the best of everything. This dedication also applies to the little things the two of you do together, like decorating the baby's room. He'll insist on hand crafting the furniture, the toys, and every decoration with you directing at his side, and he'll use the most magical materials at his disposal. Hand painting the walls with stardust is not out of the question.
- Things have changed a lot since Charlie was born, and he was previously unaware of the many technological advancements now available for expecting couples, specifically ultrasounds. He's amazed and wants to attend every appointment even more at the prospect of actually seeing your child before they're born. Of course, upon beholding the lopsided blob on the screen for your first check up, he's far more overwhelmed than he could have ever imagined. He can see little hooves and everything! The doctor doesn't quite know what to make of the King near to weeping at the sight of a being no larger than a peanut, but you take it all in stride. Once he finds out that pictures can be taken of the scans, he requests as many as he can carry, and his pockets are bursting with photos of Charlie and her not-yet-born sibling. He'll show them to everyone that does and doesn't ask.
- While he can be overly protective and his efforts to provide for you are more akin to spoiling, he's not at all without cause in doing so; carrying a child of Lucifer is no easy task. As your body becomes the epicenter for a developing power beyond imagination, you'll need him by your side with increasing frequency, especially once the baby's uncontrolled magic starts surging and affecting your reality. You'll be unharmed, but it's still quite nice to have Archangel level powers around to get things back to normal once you start inexplicably walking up the walls, speaking in dead languages or levitating random items with a glance. He takes it all in stride with humorous stories about how Charlie did the same before her arrival, though your cravings for increasingly esoteric rare foods do have him apologizing for the inconveniences of angelic biology, as even he needs a few days to acquire the rarer items your body demands.
- As delighted as he is to have another child, he can't help but be haunted by doubts of all he's done wrong as a father so far. No matter how much of it was out of his control, he fears everything that went wrong will happen again, and that he might just be gaining a second child to fail. It's only through your loving reassurance that he retains some faith in himself, and dares to believe he'll be a halfway decent dad to two children.
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klemen-tine · 6 months
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Glass Bones and Paper Skin Part 3
Platonic! Bruce x Model! GN! Reader
Trigger Warnings: Hint at suicide, Body Issues, Eating problems (not a disorder), Child Neglect, stalking, Partner Abuse
Part 1
Part 2
@problematicreblogger and @wpdarlingpan Since you guys wanted to be tagged lol
+++++++++++++
Y/N sat in the bathtub in the guest room. It’s been three days since they arrived, saw the photos, and the creepy trophy room. Three days since their conversation with Dick, finding out that they had all been on their terrace and taking photos of them. Stalking them. 
They wrapped their arms tighter around their legs, resting their chin on sharp knees and staring at the porcelain tiles and gold facet. Three days of walking on egg shells, somehow managing to evade most attempts in hanging out with the siblings and Bruce, and only really seeing them at meals. Y/N hasn’t built up the nerve to ask about the trophy room, but Y/N knows that everyone in the house knows that Y/N knows of the two rooms. They know of the photos, the ones taken without their permission or knowledge, and the clothes that have redefined their modeling career. 
Sighing, Y/N stared at their pruning hands and the now cool water. The bubbles dissolved a long time ago and the essential oils had become diluted enough that the scents no longer permeated the air. 
Finally dressed in a robe, lotion and oil on their skin and face and teeth washed, Y/N exited the bathroom and screamed at the sight of Jason on their bed. In the midst of their panic they threw the brush at the larger man, who caught it skillfully. 
“Wha-what is wrong with you? No-wait, why are you in my room?” Y/N walked around the large bed to where all their clothes are kept. Their eyes not leaving Jason’s imposing figure that was currently resting on their bed. 
“I knocked.” Y/N rolled their eyes, “I didn’t ask if you knocked, why are you in my room?” Jason shrugged, “Just felt like I haven’t talked to you in a bit.” Jason and Y/N’s relationship was like that of dragons in the old ages. Full of history and non-existent. 
Jason was already dead by the time Y/N had entered the Manor. A small body buried in the Wayne gravesite. In hindsight, Y/N’s timing had been awful. Moving in when Tim basically forced Batman to take him in as a Robin, Dick’s and Bruce’s relationship had worsened, Jason was dead for about a year, and Alfred had still been grieving. Truly a terrible time to join a family. Y/N could taste the tension when they had first moved in, and they understood immediately that they were just another unneeded burden. 
A 13-year-old Y/N cried in their bathroom, mourning their mother who had loved the fame more than them, the friends that loved Y/N for Y/N, and the life on the West Coast that they were now expected to continue on the East Coast. 
The unfairness of it all. 
“What do you want to talk about?” Y/N asked, rummaging through the drawers and finding a nice shirt and some nice jeans. 
“Hmm, oh you know, the casual how are you doing? How’s the model-life? Any fun stories you have? What have you been doing lately?” Y/N started changing in the bathroom, keeping the door cracked so they could hear the questions. 
When Y/N reemerged, now fully dressed and the robe hanging on the back of the door, they smiled at Jason, “I’m doing good, kind of tired but that's to be expected because of the ‘model-life.’ The fun stories I have are more of traveling around the world and seeing different cultures and eating good food. 
“As of late, I’ve been thinking about getting a cat.” Jason’s brow raised, “You travel though.” Y/N nodded, “Yeah, some models travel with their pets and I think that's what I plan to do. They’re easier to travel with than a dog, and I don’t think a dog would like my condo.” Jason nodded, “You could always leave it here. The little spawn would take care of it.” 
“I can’t do that to the family. It’s my pet and should be my responsibility.” Jason hummed, “Is it because you don’t want to visit?” The air stilled and blue eyes met E/C. Jason didn’t look bothered, if anything he seemed relaxed about the whole thing, “It’s fine if that's the reason. I hate being here too.” 
Jason came back as a dead person Y/N knew not to talk about. From the stairways, they would watch Jason storm out after a bad argument with Bruce. Unable to completely understand what exactly was going on, but from the hushed conversations they knew it was something they didn’t want to know about. 
“I don’t hate being here, I just don’t have reason to visit other than Alfred.” Jason continued to stare at them, “Not even for ‘family.’” 
“Jason, when have you ever looked at me and saw a sibling?” Jason didn’t banter with Y/N, never showed interest or any inclination that Y/N even existed. Y/N is pretty sure that to Jason, Y/N is just a stranger living in the manor. 
Y/N wonders if they will see Jason’s temper. Will it appear like the monster hidden in the closet, waiting for the right time to lash out at anything? Y/N has heard the screaming matches, the threats, the holes in the walls from Jason. For someone who has killed people, Y/N wonders if they should really be mucking around with Jason. 
When Y/N looks at Jason, they see the middle child of a family that had other priorities. Once upon a time, Jason was the youngest and loved by Bruce, but then younger Robins came. Jason died, and while never replaced, Robin was. 
When Y/N looks at Jason, they see the middle child of a family that Y/N is not a part of. 
They are not siblings. Not cousins, relatives, they are not even friends. Barely acquaintances if Y/N is honest. Which is fine. Y/N has gotten over the hurt and feelings of loneliness. 
It is just Y/N against the world, with Alfred partially in their corner. Not fully. Never fully because Alfred will always be in the Wayne family’s corner, and Y/N is not a Wayne. 
Jason sighed, “Mmm, I guess that night when you took a beating from that one dude for not getting in the car.” Y/N paused in brushing their hair, mind reeling and slowly turning their head to look at Jason who was instead picking at his nails. Y/N opened their mouth, but Jason beat them to it, “You went out partying, like almost every high schooler does, and your boyfriend was drunk.” 
“Just get in the car, Y/N!” 
“No! You’re drunk and you said you’d stay sober!” 
“I am sober, now get in the fucking car!” 
“Fuck off!” A 15-year-old Y/N stormed off, turning their back to Marcus Dueller, the then jock of the school. A rough hand grabbed their shoulder and a fist met their face, “You don’t talk to me like that.” 
“...Marcus wasn’t my boyfriend.” Jason didn’t show any signs of hearing Y/N, “You took a pretty bad beating, I’ll admit it. I was going to step in once he started choking you, but you took that brick to his head pretty hard.” 
Blood splattered across Y/N’s face as Marcus collapsed. The hands around their neck loosening and Y/N took deeply needed gasps of air. Their throat aching and lungs burning as they rolled over onto their hands and knees. Tears pricked their eyes as the pain and realization settled in. 
“I called his friends. He was fine, just a concussion.” Marcus and Y/N never talked again, and Marcus’s friends took one look at the bruises on Y/N’s face and neck to understand what had happened. 
They all stayed Marcus’s friends, because unlike Y/N, Marcus was loved by his family. 
“Then, you walked your beaten ass towards the liquor store.” 
“Oh my God! Y/N!” Stacey cried out in shock, and she gently cupped bruised cheeks and watched split lips grow into a smile. 
“Can I have that bottom shelf vodka please?” 
“Bitch, you need a second shelf from the bottom vodka.” They sat outside of the store, Stacey’s partner taking over the counter as she watched Y/N take swig after swig from the bottle. Her concerned eyes tracing over each and every bruise and cut, down to the clothes they were wearing and scrapes in their knees and hands. 
“How many does this make?” 
“Seven. Whoever said seven was a lucky number is a liar.” 
“Oh Y/N, why do you keep doing this?” Y/N gave Stacey the most beautiful they could muster. Not minding the ache in their cheeks or the burning of alcohol on split lips. 
Looking back at it, perhaps Y/N was on a downward spiral. Trying to find love in other people that weren’t the people at home. From ages 13 to 15, Y/N had dated over 9 people. Not one of them made it past two months, and none of them were healthy. 
Once Y/N got into modeling, all their attention went into it. Dating and friends were on a standstill as their career and education became a priority. Maybe that was another thing Y/N inherited from Bruce, a known serial dater. Although, Y/N knows for sure that their taste in partners was definitely inherited from their mother. 
Some of Y/N’s earliest memories are of M/N getting berated and smacked around by men bigger than her. When they would leave, Y/N would emerge with bandaids and tears on their face. M/N would smile at them, blood from her nose painting her lips red and she would cup soft cheeks and whisper in their ears- 
“Diamonds have never been made with gentle hands.” Y/N glared at Jason, who was meeting that glare head on. Now that they are older, Y/N has learned to hate that phrase. They have watched numerous models be in kind and gentle hands and still be beautiful. Still have a loving and healthy relationship with themselves and the other. 
Now that they are older, Y/N knows how untrue those words are. Yet, who said those words had to only be applied to romantic partners? 
“Now here you are, in your glass castle imitating diamonds.” Y/N’s nose scrunched, “Always the poet, reading the classics.” Jason shrugged, "Someone has to be literate in this messed up family. Sure as hell ain’t Bruce.” Y/N rolled their eyes, “So what? That still does not explain anything. More importantly, why now then?” Why was it now that they decided to make a move if they had supposedly been caring for a while now. 
Jason smirked, "Because finally, Bruce sees it too.” Y/N narrowed their eyes and watched with pursed lips as the bigger and stronger man got up from the bed, and walked over to them, “I’d wear comfortable shoes, Y/N. You’re going out with Bruce and the little spawn today.” 
“Wait, what do you mean Bruce finally sees it too? What is there to see?” Jason smiled at him, and it looked more of a monster preening at it’s prey. Callused hands reached up and traced the small, almost invisible scar on Y/N’s upper lip. 
“Make sure you smile, the vultures will be there too.” 
++++
“I do think green will look best on you.” Y/N smiled at Damian, “Green looks good everybody, Damian. You just need the right shade.” Between them was an emerald green silk shirt, the price displayed like a bounty and Y/N wanted to walk out of the store once they saw it. Yes, they made a lot of money, but Y/N also knows what it means to be frugal. 
Damian raised an eyebrow and continued to judge the piece as if it had insulted the family. Y/N set the shirt down and continued to peruse the aisles. Their eyes looking at all the clothing and trying to predict what will be in style. What could they use to match or create their own trend? It is still winter, meaning layers will still be necessary but how to make a stylish outfit when there needs to be layers. 
“Do you see anything you want, Y/N?” They jumped a bit, and whirled around to see Bruce smiling at them. Those blue eyes, intense like winter rivers, roamed over what Y/N was looking at and he raised a well groomed eyebrow, “Do you want that one?” 
“N-no, no thank you. I’m just looking.” Bruce hummed, and wrapped a large arm around Y/N’s bony shoulders and brought them close. He pressed his lips against his temple, an unusual act of affection towards his kids but everyone will chalk it up to Y/N being a model and still young. Bruce whispered against Y/N’s skin, “Just let me know what you want, and I will get it for you.” 
‘If I want to be left alone?’ Y/N didn’t voice it, but they didn’t have too. Bruce’s grin was sharp, “Within reason, Y/N.” A chill ran down Y/N’s spine and they swallowed down the bile threatening to come up. 
“I have money, Bruce. I can buy my own stuff.” Bruce picked up a shirt, “Let me spoil you. It is what parents do.” 
“You already paid off my condo, that is good enough.” Bruce continued to smile, “That was for the birthdays and holidays I missed while you were with us. I still have to make up for the time when you were with your mother.”  Y/N wanted to scream, “How about you donate that then?” 
Bruce smiled, “I already do. Let me spoil you.” He kissed Y/N’s temple once more before walking away, eyeing everything the way designers did when critiquing their pieces. Y/N had a feeling that if they didn’t get something from here, the store would be paying the price. Grabbing a sheer halter top and pair of black high waisted pants, Y/N let Damian throw the green top on the small pile and made their way to the check out. The cashier smiled nervously as the Wayne family stood in front of her. 
True to Bruce’s promise, he paid for the three articles of clothes, the pair of shoes, the jewelry, the accessories, the–
“I think that is enough.There are a lot of bags, and while I appreciate it, I really don’t need anymore stuff.” Y/N placated Bruce and Damian, already picturing the amount of trips it will be to take everything back home. The man seemed satisfied though, smiling and shrugging his shoulders, “If you insist. How about some lunch now?” 
Y/N wanted to decline. They wanted to go back to the manor and get away from everybody. The feeling of walking on eggshells and constantly being watched had their skin crawling and the need to take another bath. Bruce wrapped an arm around Y/N’s shoulder and brought them close, and Damian took up their other side. 
“You’re acting more as a bodyguard than a father it seems.” Bruce smiled, “We’re having a nice family outing. I’d hate it if one of your ‘followers’ interrupted." Y/N furrowed their brow, but they could not stop their body from tensing, “Someone is following us?” 
“Unfortunately.” The photos they saw in their old room re-emerged and a feeling of dread seized their muscles, making them lean further into Bruce. Yes, they were once all Robins, but not once in those photos taken from their terrace was there ever a reflection of the Bat. 
“It’s okay Y/N, I’ll make sure they won’t take any of you.” 
“How… how do you know its not you they want a photo of?” Bruce smiled, guiding them into a fancy restaurant, Damian requesting a table away from the windows, "Because they all know not to follow me.” There was something akin to a warning in Bruce’s voice that had Y/N biting their lips and following the wait staff quietly. 
Y/N watched as Damian and Bruce conversed casually, well, as casually as Damian can be. The topics went from school, a family named the Kents, and future prospects. Damian was still unsure about what exactly it is he wanted to do, and it most likely didn’t help that Tim was the one who was going to take over Wayne Enterprises. 
Y/N continued to eat and sip their tea, not wanting to add to anything as their mind wandered. After talking to Jason, it proved to Y/N that they were somewhat always being watched. Jason bringing up that one specific memory may have made Y/N’s heart rate spike, but it did prove that Jason was there. The photos, all of them that were taken without Y/N’s consent, show that everyone had at some point gained interest. 
However, why did they never act on it? Why wait until now to do something? 
‘Bruce finally sees it too.’ Y/N’s jaw clenched, what does Bruce have to do with any of this? Could they not interact without Bruce’s permission? Alfred would never allow that. 
Would he? 
“What do you think, Y/N?” The question jolted Y/N out of their thoughts and back into reality. Looking around the table to two expectant gazes, they gave an apologetic smile, “Sorry. I was thinking about something, what was the question?” 
Damian scrunched his nose, “What is there to think about when you have blood-related family members in front of you?” Y/N blinked in shock, and then remembered how much blood meant to Damian. They shrugged, “I have a busy schedule coming up.” 
Bruce stabbed the piece of steak with the silver fork, “You do, don’t you.” He stared at his child, one who he has left to their own devices and now is estranged from the family. Always keeping them at arms length, and never looking back to see if they are behind them. Not because Y/N trusts them to be, but because Y/N was used to them not being there. 
Y/N, for how proud Bruce is of them for standing on their own, is still naive. Still innocent. They didn’t notice the paparazzi lurking around, or maybe they got so used to them they learned to block them out. None of it sat right with Bruce. Those should have been things he taught Y/N. Things to prepare Y/N for a world that was bathed in camera flashes and gossip. How to look out for themselves. How to defend themselves, and what to do in case there is a stalker. Those should have been at least a fraction of what Bruce taught them. 
Yet, he never did any of that. Looking at Y/N sitting across from him, sitting tall and with a closed-off expression, had Bruce frowning. Y/N was still polite, smiled when they needed to and engaged in conversation, but there was still a wall between them. Almost like glass. Bruce is able to see everything and hear almost everything, but his ability to interact with his child is limited. All interactions stopped by the wall of glass put up by Y/N themselves. 
It's a good thing that Batman breaks glass windows on a daily basis. 
“You have some shoots in New York, will you be visiting afterwards?” Bruce watched Y/N’s eyes widen and lips pursed. He could see the breaking point, cracks spreading throughout the glass as Y/N’s mind tried to wrap around the question. 
“How–” 
“Is it odd for a parent to know their child’s schedule?” Y/N blinked, and processed the information. A tight smile formed on their lips, “How long have you known my schedule?” Bruce took a bite of the steak and Damian continued to eat his plate of some fancy pasta.
“Now Y/N-” 
“How long have you known my schedule?” Damian glanced up, irritated at their father being cut off, but the look on Bruce’s face had him settling down. The man was smiling, non-threateningly but all Y/N could see was the Bruce that had stood before them in the changing room after Gabanna’s runway show. The same eyes, full of intentions that had Y/N shivering and the money, power, and background to act on those intentions. 
“Like I have said, Y/N. I am making up for the lost time and neglect you have faced within our home.” 
“And I have said, Bruce, there is nothing to make up. That still does not answer my question about you knowing my schedule.” The cracks were spreading, chipping away and becoming weaker. 
“What parent doesn’t know-” 
“Don’t repeat that sentence. Bruce, you know what I am asking and you keep avoiding it. Who told you my schedule?” An emotion other than faux politeness finally filtered into Y/N’s voice, making the question sound firm and unlikely to bend or be swept away with Bruce’s elusivity. He smiled, “Oh Y/N, did Maya not tell you? GLM Agency has been under new agency since last year. Wayne Industries is now the parent of GLM Agency.” 
Y/N stared at Bruce in confusion, their pretty face twisting as the words registered with them. Everything crashed on Y/N, like glass shattering and bathing them in their shards. The guest room that is identical to their bedroom at home, the clothes that are from their closet, the two rooms full of their photos and mannequins wearing their iconic looks, that fucking Batman-inspired piece of clothing. 
“Y/N.” They’re walking away from the table, head lost in thought and body moving on autopilot. The need to get away from everyone was overpowering the logical part of their mind, and Y/N is walking towards the front door of the restaurant. Pushing the glass doors open, and being bombarded by flashes from cameras. 
“Y/N, what do you have to say about your mother?” A 13-year-old Y/N was guided out of the condo by police officers. Eyes rimmed red from crying and their only source of comfort was the blanket they managed to snag before being escorted out. 
“Were you aware of your mother’s drug-use?” 
“Are you on drugs?” A 17-year-old Y/N walked past the paparazzi, keeping their eyes forward even though they wanted to snarl at that person. 
“Y/N! Look over here!” 
“Look!”
“Over here!”  
A large hand gripped their arm guided Y/N through the crowd and towards the parking lot where the car was. The large body blocking the photos and shielding them from the flashing of cameras that had thrown Y/N back in time. Once inside the safety of the metal box on wheels, Y/N became aware of their rapid breathing and the feeling of their heart pounding. Irregular beats and sweat began to form on their skin as they struggled to take a breath. Just one breath.
The hand that had guided them to the car grabbed their wrist and placed it on a large and firm chest, emphasizing the deep breaths that Y/N needed and wanted to take. Rough fingers gently traced their cheek, up to their ear, and then to their hair. Gently bringing Y/N back to the present. 
“Shh shh, it’s okay Y/N. It’s okay. You’re safe.” E/C eyes drifted around the car, and closed once they saw the person’s reflection. 
“Father, those vermin have been cleared. All of them will be getting in trouble.” 
“Thank you, Damian.” Y/N rested their head against the glass and fought down the need to jump out of the car. Bruce eyed Y/N, and what made it worse was there was an apologetic look on his face. 
“Y/N, I… I am sorry. I thought Maya had told you.” 
“Seems like your manager isn’t doing their job if you didn’t know. You should get a new one.” 
“Don’t talk about her like that,” Y/N mumbled, feeling a headache forming and they wanted nothing more than to curl under the covers and die. They could feel Damian’s pointed look through the seat, “Maya is a great manager. She will not be replaced.” Damian sneered, “She didn’t even inform you of the change in ownership.” 
“Because it does not concern me. As long as I am able to get booked and get to my destinations, it does not matter who is in charge.” Y/N paused, “Although, now it looks like nepotism.” 
Bruce huffed at his child’s overdramaticness, "It's not nepotism. I had no say in what shows you did or who booked them.” 
“But you had a say in what clothes I wore.” Ice filled the car and Bruce gave Y/N a long look. 
“Just that one piece, and I asked her to do it. She didn’t have to do it.” Y/N laughed, long and hollow as they turned their head to Bruce, “Of course she had to do it. Bruce Wayne is asking for a commission piece, who would turn it down without risking their reputation?” The man sighed, “Y/N, I submitted a commission piece. That is the only thing I had a hand in throughout your modeling career.” 
“Others won’t believe that.” 
“Who cares what others think.” Y/N whipped their head around to Damian, “I do. I do a lot actually. I care a lot about what my fellow models say and think about me.” The boy rolled his eyes, “Why? Their opinions don’t matter.” 
“And your’s do?” 
“We are family!” 
“By blood, yeah! That’s as far as it goes.” Damian looked ready to snarl out more remarks, but the abrupt parking of the car had both of them pausing. They were already at the manor, and Y/N wondered just how fast was Bruce driving to get them here so quickly. 
Y/N was quick to jump out of the car, “I will grab those bags later. Please don’t make Alfred take them.” Bruce followed, “Y/N.” 
“No! No, ‘Y/N’ or anything. I want to be left alone.” Y/N pushed open the manor’s front door, and they wonder how many times they have snuck in and out of these doors before. Was it really even sneaking out if someone knew? 
“Y/N, we need to talk about this.” There was something in Bruce’s voice that stoked the right ember within Y/N’s chest. Whipping around, they glared at the two Waynes, “For fuck’s sake, I just want to be left alone! I was fine with how things were. None of this-this- whatever the hell this is! 
I was fine on my own. I was fine without you guys. I would have been fine if you stayed away!” Bruce didn’t even look bothered that Y/N was yelling, in fact the asshole looked relieved. He gave a patient smile with fake concern in those blue eyes, “The thing is though Y/N, you never should have done it on your own.” 
Y/N rolled their eyes, “Where the hell did all of this even come from?! This… this sudden need to be part of my life? You’re not even being subtle about it!” They were drawing a crowd, but Y/N couldn’t even bring themselves to care. 
“I keep telling you, it does. Not. Bother. Me that you all were inattentive. It doesn’t make me mad, it doesn’t make me upset, it doesn’t stir anything within me knowing you were not there. Yet here you are trying to make it up and all that nonsense, but when I tell you that it's fine you don’t listen!
“It genuinely seems that you are not doing this for me, but to ease your guilt.” Bruce met Y/N’s gaze, and it appeared they were in their own little showdown. Bruce’s gaze, not showing a hint of anger or irritation at his child while Y/N seethed. For once, Y/N looked liked the wild one in the family. Their teeth bared and eyes full of unadulterated rage, they glared at Bruce with the face of a raging angel. 
They hated how Bruce’s lips pulled into a smile, and the feeling of gloating eyes falling on their body from all their siblings. Like they all knew something Y/N didn’t. 
“Bruce finally sees it too.” 
Y/N pocketed that thought, taking a deep breath and trying to calm down. Nothing intelligent was ever said when angry– 
“So tell your big brother Y/N, how do you expect us to trust you on your own when you can’t even notice someone on your terrace?” 
– Fuck it. Intense E/C eyes landed back on Bruce, “If you bought GLM Agency a year ago, why now?” Bruce continued to stare into Y/N’s eyes, “Because it seemed like you needed a break from Gotham. So, I figured a year away would be good.” 
Y/N narrowed their gaze, “Then why didn’t you call?” 
“Because it looked like you needed a break.” Y/N chuckled, “I needed a break, or you needed time to get those rooms set up?” Bruce raised a brow, but Y/N continued on, “It's one thing to have photos from some photoshoots but not photos taken without my consent. Or the clothes I’ve worn on mannequins with almost the exact same physique as me.” 
“They are exact.” Y/N tore their gaze away from Bruce to stare at Tim, the thin and exhausted looking teen standing above them on the stairway. Chapped lips opened, “We used the measurements within the modeling database and created mannequins that have your exact measurements.” 
Y/N gaped at him for a quick second before rolling their eyes, “Wow. That’s not helping your guys’ case at all.” Dick approached them, going for a placating gesture and an easy smile, “Now Y/N, I think you might be overreacting–” 
“I think I am underreacting to all of this. I find out that you all have been taking secret photos of me, which someone them are from my ‘stalker’ and I don’t really believe that but whatever, you have access to my bank account, you bought the modeling agency I work for, commissioned a Batman-inspired piece, and that you have been keeping some of runway pieces on models that are exactly my measurements!
How else am I supposed to be reacting?! And I still don’t have my phone back!” Y/N snapped at Dick, and then began to rub their temples when the headache got worse. An Aspirin, they need an Aspirin. Now, preferably but Y/N has the strangest sense that even if they did take it, the headache would not go away. 
“Whatever, just… I’m going home tomorrow and whatever was bought today just… just ship it. Since you know my address and all that apparently.” Y/N began walking up the stairs, ignoring the panicked looks some of their ‘siblings’ were giving them and the dark look on Bruce’s face. 
Dick, ever the peacemaker, reached out, “Wait, you can’t go back yet! You still have a few more weeks before your next shoot. Just stay for a few more days.” 
“Add kidnapping and being held against my will to that list too.” Y/N continued walking, feeling exhausted and wanting to sleep. They missed the nod Bruce gave Tim and Damian, and they missed the dark and knowing looks on Jason’s and Dick’s face. The walk back to the room was long, and more exhausting than usual. The events of today caught up to them and Y/N wanted nothing more than to cry, scream, and then go to sleep. 
Because why not. 
“Y/N, you are making a mistake.” Dick followed after their younger sibling, who only sped up to get away from them. The man grabbed Y/N’s forearm, “Y/N, listen! You don’t want to do this.” 
“What is ‘this’ you are talking about Dick? I am literally just going home. It is not a big deal.” Y/N tried to pull their arm away from Dick, but to no avail. 
“It's how you are doing it Y/N. All we want is to spend time with you and make up for the lost time!” Y/N wanted to scream at Dick, but held it in and instead gritted out, “Why didn’t you do it normally then? Like… texting or calling.” Dick pouted, those blue eyes looking sad and his lower lip jutting out like a toddler, “We missed you, and we just wanted to see you.” 
Y/N’s face was scrunched, their mouth open in disgust, “How can you say that with that look on your face as if you all weren’t the ones who ignored me?” Dick looked heartbroken and some part of Y/N felt bad about that. They remembered the room with the photos and the other side of Dick that they saw only a few days ago. Their body seized in terror, but Y/N tried to keep their expression neutral. 
“Look, Dick, once again I am not mad about how my time here was spent. I’m genuinely not. But you guys keep throwing it back in my face and saying such contradicting things, of course I’m going to get upset about it.” They are trying to be civil. Trying so desperately to be civil and it feels like it is not working. Old wounds and painful memories continued to be dragged out of the crevices of their minds like it was some type of zoo attraction. 
A 16-year-old Y/N stared at the shattered mirror, tears racing down their face as they stared at their broken reflection. All they could see were the imperfections everyone continued to call out. Comparing them to their mother, to other models, to society’s twisted views of beauty that Y/N is trying to be. 
If their mother was alive, would she know what to say? Would she gaze at them with those soft eyes and long lashes, smiling beautifully and whispering, “Diamonds have never been made with gentle hands.” Continuing to remind Y/N that modeling was not a gentle job. It wasn’t a job for those with paper skin or glass bones. Those easily hurt by the meanest of comments, nastiest looks, and the horrendous words never made it in this industry.
Would this have been easier if they had the support of Bruce and his kids? 
Labored breaths and broken sobs filled room-turned-practice room as the mirrors caught the sight of a teenager breaking down. Crumbling and shattering under the pressure, pricking their fingers as they cleaned up the broken mirror and picking up their shattered image. 
It will be those same mirrors that watched those broken shards form their glass castle, posing as diamonds to deter others from trying to break in. 
Y/N continued to walk down the long hallway, ignoring Dick’s calls and locking the door behind them. It was only 2pm, and Y/N had plans to sleep the rest of the day. They had no bags to pack, and nothing here they felt like taking. All they needed to do is sleep the day away, which will be easy, wake up tomorrow, call a cab and skedaddle out of here. 
“Thats all we have to do, Y/N.” They closed their eyes for what only felt like a few minutes, until jostling and whispers of their name had them groggily opening their eyes. A yawn escaping them and their eyes struggled to open. 
“Why are you in my room?” Tim gave a small huff, “Its dinner time.” Y/N buried their face in their pillow, groaning out a ‘not hungry.’ The young man hummed, “I think you should come down for this one, Y/N. You might get the answers you want.” 
“Not interested.” Tim leaned down, his breath tickling Y/N’s ear, “You’re glass castle is shattering, Y/N. Don’t you want help fixing it?” Y/N wanted to swing. They wanted to do something to get their point across that they wanted almost nothing to do with this crazy family anymore. 
They opted to glare, and Tim gave a soft smile, “C’mon, lets go eat. Besides, Alfred said that the cab won’t be coming for you if you don’t eat dinner.” 
“Alfie!” Y/N groaned into the pillow, and they had stopo themselves from throwing up their arms and legs in a fit. Leave it to Alfred to do something so diabolical. Groaning one more time, Y/N sat up and mentally braced themselves for this shitshow of a dinner. 
E/C eyes looked at the door they know they locked, and chose that whatever little bickerment that will start was not worth it at this point in time. Throwing their legs over the bed, they followed Tim out of the room and towards the dining room. 
Everyone was there, and waiting for Y/N to appear. Once again, they were made to sit between Bruce and Damian, which they did so with little complaint. 
“Now, Y/N, it looks like everyone has some explaining to do.” Y/N gave Bruce the driest most unimpressed face they could muster, to which the man took with a smile, “So, what questions do you want answered?” 
‘They’re really doing this.’ Y/N could feel another headache forming, but decided to take the brightly colored bait. Looking at Jason, who was meeting their gaze with his green eyes waiting for this question, Y/N asked, “What did you mean when you said ‘Bruce sees it too.’” The man smirked, meeting Bruce’s eyes and back to Y/N, “Exactly that. The old man finally sees what you are to this messed up family.” 
Y/N narrowed their gaze, taking a bite of the pasta, and chewing slowly. Dick decided to chime in, “Y/N, you have been loved by us for a while. Something you probably pieced together, but Bruce took a while to see it because… well because you’re not us.” 
“Not like, you’re not Robin, but more like you’re not…” 
“You’re fragile.” Everyone’s head turned to Damian, and Y/N had half the idea to be upset about that. They raised an eyebrow, but before they could say anything Damian continued, “You are not meant for this life we lead. Vigilantism never suited you, and that is something I picked up on when I first came here.” 
When Damian had first met Y/N, it was like seeing a rare flower that had to be protected at all costs. Y/N was something that at the slightest gesture, could be hurt. When people come across something ethereal like that, the need to protect it can be divided into two different directions. 
Hovering or distancing. 
Bruce chose to distance himself, whether he knew it or not, and Damian had followed suit. He watched as his older sibling hovered from a distance, watching the rare flower bloom before it was finally the right time to engage with it. 
“Y/N, it isn’t so much that I didn’t want to interact with you, it is that I didn’t know how.” Bruce looked into his child’s eyes, “How could I interact with someone who needed gentle hands, when there is not a gentle bone in my body.” Bruce’s hands have broken more bones than the human body has. He has scars on his skin and calluses on the palm of his hands. 
“It took me a while to figure out why, but once I did, your absence became suffocating.” Everyone had been gasping for air, doing everything in their power for the slightest piece of oxygen. It was the fear of Y/N being harmed that kept them collared and chained to the photos, every interview, every runway show. 
However, Bruce knows that every now and then, children should be able to spread their wings and fall. Y/N ended up flying, soaring above them and never looking back down. Bruce, and the family, decided to give Y/N a year. Just one on their own. This gave them all plenty of time to improve the glass terrarium that they wanted Y/N to be placed back in. This time they will be protected and paid attention too. 
“When everyone stated that I can finally see the impact you have on this family, it means I have to come to terms with the fact that I no longer want to be hands off with your life and career.” Y/N’s brow furrowed, not liking the term ‘hands off.’ 
“You have done great on your own. A fabulous job. Clawing your way up and making a name for yourself, I am so proud of you. Everyone is extremely proud of you. 
However, there is no need for you to struggle anymore. You’ve proven yourself, now let us take care of the rest.” Y/N felt shivers go down their spine as they stared at their family in fear. They took in each expression, and when they made eye contact with Jason, the other had a daring look in his eyes. Begging for Y/N to do something, similar to how predators hope for their prey to fight back to make the kill all the more interesting. 
“But… But I don’t need your help, Bruce. I can do this on my own.” Bruce’s smile was that of honey, luring in unsuspecting insects and trapping them in its viscous fluid. If Y/N were younger, they may have fallen for it. They may have allowed themselves to coat their fingers in sugary words and sweet gestures, just so they could feel the love from a father. 
“I know. We know, but you don’t need to anymore.” 
“Now wait a minute-no. No no no no. You can’t just do that, explain yourself, and expect me to just roll with it.” Y/N set their napkin down, and tried to stand from the table, “I don’t need your help, although thank you for wanting to I guess. I am fine with it just being me and Maya.” 
“About that…” Dick grimaced, handing Y/N his phone and pulled up was an article. 
Y/N’s eyes widened and the world around them went cold. THey looked back up, “You’re lying.” Dick shook his head, fake empathy across his face as Y/N continued to read the article.
“No. NO this is a joke and a terrible one. Maya would never–” 
“They were found in her apartment, Y/N.” The headlines, eerily similar to ones from five year ago, flashed across the small phone screen. 
Manager of Model Y/N L/N Suspected of Drug Usage
Y/N wanted to cry. Horrible flashbacks resurfacing and tears pricking their eyes. They turned to Bruce who was still sitting and eating his pasta.
“Bruce, please. I know Maya, she would never do this.” The man said nothing. Y/N bit their lip, “Bruce… Bruce please. If its because of what I said then take that out on me. Please leave Maya out of it.
“Please Bruce! I know Maya. She’d never do that, and–and Bruce please.” Y/N was whimpering now, tears streaming down their face as the thought of losing their manager, the last person they had, nearly had them collapsing to their knees. 
“Lets make a deal, Y/N.” Bruce wiped the corner of his lips, and grabbed Y/N’s thin wrist. 
“You come home more often, during breaks and whatnot. I won’t have a lot of control over your modeling schedule, but make sure you include time each week for family. The only exception is when you are out of the country.” Y/N stared at Bruce in confusion, but nodded along. 
“In return, Maya gets out of trouble. Nothing will change other than the weekly meeting with family.”  Y/N can’t breathe. They cannot breathe and there were eyes all on them. Gulping down on whatever air they can get a hold of, Y/N sobbed out, “Why are you going to such lengths?” 
Bruce stood, and even though Y/N is tall, no one compares to Bruce’s towering figure. He smiled down at the model, and cupped a wet cheek with a calloused hand. Ice blue eyes stared into watery E/C eyes, and that smile turned too sharp to not be hidden blade, “I told you. It is too make up for lost time. Plus, as those photos suggest, you need protection. What better protection could you have that is not only part of the family, but also vigilantes?
“While it is true that diamonds are never made without pressure, diamond-encrusted jewlery require gentle hands and patience.” Bruce kissed Y/N’s temple, and the model flinched away. Ice blue met their eyes once more, “Now pick, Y/N. Either way, you will still be meeting us once a week, but you can have someone you know at your side or someone under my command.” 
+++++
“And cut! Good job everyone!” The flashes from the camera stopped and the stage lighting turned off, no longer blinding everyone within the room. Y/N stood up from the red couch, a smile still on their lips as they thanked the photographers. 
“Y/N, as always, perfect shots!” 
“Good job Y/N!” 
“Thank you for doing this, Y/N!” They continued to smile and acknowledge everyone that passed by, Maya right behind as they walked back to the changing room. Sitting on the couch was Jason’s large form and Tim’s lithe one. Both of them looking up as Y/N entered, ignoring Maya’s flinch. 
“You have a birthday gala you need to catch. Come on, change out of that and lets go.” Leave it to Jason to get the message across. Y/N nodded, taking to the changing room where they know their clothes are already waiting for them. They could hear Tim interrogating Maya in the politist way. Clipped words and empty praises. 
“Y/N they came out of nowhere! They stormed in and went straight to a vent where these-these drugs were! I’ve never even seen those there before! Let alone know that there was a vent!” Maya cried into Y/N’s shoulder as Dick and Damian watched on. 
Emerging from the changing room in jeans and a crew neck, Y/N sighed, “Alright, shall we get going?” Jason stood up and Tim shook Maya’s sweaty hand. Y/N gave his manager a nod, signalling for her to take the rest of the day off. Jason’s large hand rested on the small of Y/N’s back, and Tim led the way to the new car that Bruce bought. 
The ride was only two hours, filled with light conversation and catching up. Once at the mansion, Y/N greeted Alfred with a hug. Not as tight as they normally are, but it felt wrong entering the mansion without hugging Alfred. Bruce entered the foyer and grinned, hugging Y/N and kissing their temple. 
“Your clothes are in your room, and there is another present on behalf of Damian and Jason.” Y/N nodded, “Thanks, Bruce.” The man smiled, “Come and eat dinner when you are done. We’ll have enough time before the Gala to at least eat something.” Y/N began walking away, each step up the stairs feeling like there was lead on their feet stopping them from going any further. 
Once in the room, the locked the door and on the bed was a box and black and gold clothing. The black looking like it was made out of silk, and the gold was sequin. Y/N carefully walked towards the box, and when they lifted the lid, a white kitten mewed at them. Their fur still looking young and their eyes bluer than Bruce’s. They mewed and mewed, and Y/N could feel tears streaming down their face. 
In neat cursive and tied around the bow of the box, was a small note, ‘We’ll watch her when you decide to leave the country.’ 
Y/N bit their lip, and felt as if their world was falling a part once more. Broken glass surrounding them and no matter where they stepped, their feet will end up bleeding. Now forced to rely on their family to carry them out of the mess they made, and now… now there was a lifeform that this family can and most likely will use against them.  
Thin fingers gently picked up the cat and gave it a wobbly smile, as she mewed at Y/N. A red collar already around her neck, tied in a perfect bow. 
“Y/N, the makeup artists are here. Are you ready?” Wiping their tears, Y/N set the kitten down and took in the black and gold piece once more. 
“Not yet, but they can come in. I’ll get dressed afterwards.” 
“Alright.” The door opened, despite Y/N locking it, and it was Dick smiling as he let in the two artists who were now scrambling to get set up. Blue eyes traveled from the cat, to the clothes, and back to Y/N. He grinned and stalked closer to his younger sibling that was now being corralled into sitting in front of the makeup artist. 
He picked up the kitten and passed her for Y/N to hold, whispering in their ears, “Happy Birthday, Y/N.” 
______________________________________________________________
Honestly... I really like this series. I think I'm going to do other stories but in the other characters POV now.
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ironskyfinder · 7 months
Text
Bounce/drop
Goonettes are one of god’s gifts to man.
Naive, doe-eyed, innocent girls who get exposure to the right kinds of filth at the right time end up as self-addicted pleasure dolls, chasing the next edge, the next rush. The only problem - for them, not for anyone else - is that often they rub themselves so dumb they can’t be trusted to edge without making mistakes and giving into pleasure, and they get to be so brainless that they need instructions on how best to corrupt themselves. 
As I said, not a problem for anyone else.
Emily had still been a feminist, when she started following me - not much of one, but she still had moments where she'd go back to thinking she was equal, that she should go to college and have a career and make something of her life outside the kitchen and bedroom - and she hated it.
She mentioned, in one of her messages, that she had always wished she could make her breasts more sensitive - at a 38GG, I liked to remind her she had 'udders' - so, one of the times she asked for me to make her brain worse, I took her on an edge she still thanks me for even today.
ironskymaker [10:58PM] I wrote instructions for an edge for you, but this is a much more directed edge than just sending you gooning fuel and some degrading messages, so you’ll need to be able to narrow your attention to this so that you can respond when prompted. Understood?
ironskymaker [10:58PM] I'm not going to ask you to focus, I know you can't do that, not really.
goonette4everr [11:00PM] yes
ironskymaker [11:02PM] You’ll need to follow along closely, okay? I’m going to have you hump a pillow - I think you should use the pillow you sleep on - over and over and over, and I’m going to try and break your brain even more than usual. Ready?
goonette4everr [11:03PM] yessir
ironskymaker [11:04PM] As always, you should be naked when you edge. Take a selfie, once you are - think of it as the ‘before’ photo, so we can compare how you look once I’m done with you.
goonette4everr [11:05PM] you assume right. selfie taken.
ironskymaker [11:05PM] Face the mirror and start humping, nice and slow. Be gentle enough it’s frustrating, like I’m teasing you by holding your hips, slowing you down - just enough pressure that your clit begs for more, not enough to start you grinding mindlessly.
goonette4everr [11:07PM] ok...ok thas gonna drive me nuts
ironskymaker [11:08PM] That’s exactly the point. Light, little motions at first, enough to make you want to grumble and moan and swear because it's such a teasing sensation.
goonette4everr [11:08PM] fuck
ironskymaker [11:10PM] Good goonette, keep going. Little by little, faster and harder. Hips rocking back and forth, little by little pressing more against the pillow with those little motions. Watch yourself in the mirror, teased and frustrated but still grinding away like you’re told.
goonette4everr [11:10PM] hmmmnnn
ironskymaker [11:11PM] You’ve been craving this all week. Let yourself relax into it. You need this, turning your brain off and letting your clit think for you, edging for hours and hours until it’s all a blur. Keep humping, a little faster, a little harder  - you should be starting to feel it now. 
ironskymaker [11:13PM] How does your edge taste?
goonette4everr [11:13PM] goood, so wet
ironskymaker [11:14PM] Start grinding and humping faster, little by little. Every time you hump your pillow, you grind the littlest bit faster. 
goonette4everr [11:15PM] hunh...feelin it now
goonette4everr [11:15PM] fuck!
ironskymaker [11:16PM] Less and less gently, keep your hips moving, faster and faster. Let the motions grow, the harder the edge gets the more you move.
ironskymaker [11:17PM] Keep going, a little harder every time you hump. Make the motions bigger, gradually starting to grind with a little more pressure each time. Harder, faster, keep grinding on your pillow. Look at yourself in the mirror and make an ahegao face, grinding extra hard and extra slow while you let your tongue hang out until the drool hits your tits. 
goonette4everr [11:19PM] hnnnnnn oh ffuuuuuck
ironskymaker [11:19PM] Don’t forget to tug on your nipples a little to make them hard, if they weren’t already; don’t stop humping. 
goonette4everr [11:20PM] theyr hard, mmmm god
ironskymaker [11:21PM] Pinch and pull on your teats, grind on your pillow more. Reach back and tease your asshole a little.
ironskymaker [11:21PM] Remember, all your useful parts deserve to be part of your edge - speaking of your mouth, test your gag reflex as you start humping faster and harder.
goonette4everr [11:22PM] hkkkkkkkkk
ironskymaker [11:22PM] How are you feeling, lil goonette?
goonette4everr [11:23PM] goodsogood! fukkk
goonette4everr [11:23PM] i look so dum so horni
goonette4everr [11:24PM] fuck!!
ironskymaker [11:25PM] Good! But I want you extra desperate and broken, so I’m giving you a break.
ironskymaker [11:25PM] Sit up off your pillow, so your drippy clit is nowhere near anything that might stimulate it - then hump the air, bouncing a little.
ironskymaker [11:27PM] Understood?
goonette4everr [11:27PM] whait noo 
goonette4everr [11:28PM] nnnnnooo oh ok, ok, i will i will
ironskymaker [11:28PM] I know, it's hard to have self-control - but you don't need to! I'll have your self-control instead, just relax and obey.
goonette4everr [11:30PM] obeyying...is...goood....thanku sir
ironskymaker [11:30PM] Keep humping. Feel your tits swing as you bounce, feel how they want to pull you down, back onto the pillow. Grab one, suck on your nipple. Hump and grind and bounce. Grab the other and suck on both your nipples at once, then let them drop from your mouth. Hump the air a little more, bounce and let your udders drop, feel them pulling all the thoughts out of your brain.
goonette4everr [11:32PM] hnnnnnn
ironskymaker [11:32PM] Bounce and hump the air until your tits pull all the thoughts from your brain, until they pull you back down to humping your pillow.
ironskymaker [11:33PM] Doesn’t your edge feel better already?
goonette4everr [11:33PM] yyyyeesss
ironskymaker [11:34PM] Again, humping and grinding like a good girl, faster and harder. Grind your clit into your pillow as you reduce yourself to obedient holes for a stranger on the internet, like a real feminist traitor. 
goonette4everr [11:35PM] i feel so slutty an stupid
goonette4everr [11:36PM] itsh shooo gooood!!!
ironskymaker [11:37PM] Look in the mirror - do you like the slut you see?
ironskymaker [11:37PM] Hump and bounce and whisper to yourself that your holes and tits are all that matter, they give you value and purpose and a reason for men to find you useful. 
goonette4everr [11:39PM] i lov bein a traitor!! i luv lookin at myshelf bein a whoooore
goonette4everr [11:39PM] yessss hnnnn
ironskymaker [11:41PM] Grind even faster, even harder. You can really feel it now - you’re pressing harder, humping faster, hips moving more so you bounce - and when you bounce, your udders swing. When your udders swing, you feel your brain drain and you’re closer to just being tits and holes. Holes keep being drippy, tits keep bouncing.
ironskymaker [11:42PM] Now how does your edge taste, lil goonette?
goonette4everr [11:42PM] tassts like dspration
ironskymaker [11:43PM] Good. Keep going. Hump and bounce, letting the haze of the edge and the pull of your tits wash your mind away. 
ironskymaker [11:44PM] Harder, faster, humping and grinding, leaking all over your pillow - pause for a moment, to bury your face in the wet spot you’re making, take a deep breath. Then get back on your pillow and keep humping. The smell and taste of your edge everywhere, rewiring your brain to tie that to the overwhelming pleasure you’re feeling.
goonette4everr [11:45PM] hhhnnnnn
goonette4everr [11:45PM] so dirrty
ironskymaker [11:46PM] You liked that too much not to do it again. Put your face into the pillow, rub it into the wet spot. You love how the sensation corrupts you, how it makes your edge so much stronger. Don’t you?
goonette4everr [11:48PM] fuck pleas yess
ironskymaker [11:49PM] Edging makes you feel so good, your brain can barely take it - but that’s fine, you don’t need it anyway, you don’t need to think.
ironskymaker [11:49PM] The instructions become your actions.
ironskymaker [11:50PM] Your clit isn’t there to handle big thoughts, your udders aren’t made for thinking, but you were made to obey. Keep humping and grinding, edging and bouncing, faster and harder. 
goonette4everr [11:52PM] hmmm...yesh yeh no thnk...jus...edge
ironskymaker [11:53PM] The more you edge, the more you’re just drooling holes and bouncing udders. Wipe the slick juices running down your thighs all over your face and imagine tasting it on a thick cock filling your throat. Don’t stop grinding, don’t stop bouncing, keep your hips moving.
goonette4everr [11:54PM] bounc
ironskymaker [11:54PM] Wipe the slick mess from your cunt onto your nipples, pinch and pull on your teats. Keep one of your teats in your mouth, massage and milk the other. Hump and bounce and grind, let your brain go blank, then let your udder drop and suck your other nipple clean. Are you enjoying yourself?
goonette4everr [11:56PM] iy am...iam!!!
goonette4everr [11:57PM] i tayst so gud
ironskymaker [11:57PM] Does the girl looking back at you from the mirror seem like she’s having fun too?
goonette4everr [11:59PM] she dos, she looks sho happi, so blank
ironskymaker [11:59PM] I bet she looks like a porndoll. Her eyes all unfocused, sweaty, shaking, needy, her desperate clit soaking her pillow. 
goonette4everr [12:00AM] mmmhmmm...such a needyslut
goonette4everr [12:00AM] shooo dum
ironskymaker [12:01AM] Time for another break.
goonette4everr [12:01AM] hnnnnnnnn!!!!
ironskymaker [12:02AM] I know you don’t want to, but - stop edging, sit up so you can hump the air like the desperate fuckmeat you are.
goonette4everr [12:03AM] yeshyesytes!
ironskymaker [12:04AM] I know you’re horny, I know you’re needy, just let your hips move against the nothing and let the ache drain your thoughts away.
ironskymaker [12:04AM] And, while you do - pick up your tits, play with them, squeeze and massage them, hold them out and then drop them.
goonette4everr [12:05AM] mmm...
ironskymaker [12:05AM] Feel that pull make you dumber. Let the things you used to call ‘important’ wash away as you start bouncing in the air, as your udders pull your thoughts out of your mind
ironskymaker [12:06AM] Did you have work today, did you have plans after, were there errands that need doing? Pick up your tits, play with them, then drop them as you bounce, and all of it is gone.
goonette4everr [12:07AM] hmmm...gone. 
goonette4everr [12:07AM] allgone
ironskymaker [12:09AM] Bounce, drop. Take another selfie, see what you look like after I’ve played with your brain for less than an hour, and imagine how much more I’ll do.
goonette4everr [12:09AM] hheeehee she looksh crazi
goonette4everr [12:10AM] sush a mess!
ironskymaker [12:10AM] Hump, grind, bounce, drop. Tits don’t have plans. Holes don’t run errands.
goonette4everr [12:11AM] mmmmmm
ironskymaker [12:11AM] There’s only obedience, only edging and doing what you’re told. Bounce, drop, hump, grind.
goonette4everr [12:12AM] only
goonette4everr [12:12AM] please 
ironskymaker [12:12AM] How does your edge taste now?
goonette4everr [12:14AM] sssssgud
goonette4everr [12:14AM] ssssssnice
goonette4everr [12:14AM] fuckk
ironskymaker [12:15AM] Bounce, drop. More thoughts gone, brain all drained. Hump, grind, bounce, drop. 
ironskymaker [12:16AM] Bounce, drop. Take another selfie, see what you look like after I’ve played with your brain for less than an hour, and imagine how much more I’ll do tomorrow.
ironskymaker [12:17AM] The girl in the mirror just wants to keep edging and bouncing and dropping forever, and so do you. Bounce, drop.
goonette4everr [12:17AM] please ruinmy brain mroe
goonette4everr [12:18AM] hheeehee she looksh crazi
goonette4everr [12:18AM] sush a mess!
ironskymaker [12:19AM] And how are you feeling now, lil goonette?
goonette4everr [12:21AM] alll edged out, reallly hazy
ironskymaker [12:22AM] Good goonette. Bedtime, then, and no touching until the morning.
goonette4everr [12:23AM] ohh fuck  yessir please tomorrow 
goonette4everr [12:23AM] i can’t wait
@goonedoutdropout
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roosterbruiser · 2 years
Note
Bob and AdmiralsDaughter!Reader where the dagger squad finds out he's dating/engaged/married (whichever)
𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐠𝐢𝐟 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐞 @bradshawsbitch 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐀𝐥𝐞𝐱!!!
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𝐖𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐩𝐬
𝐚 𝐁𝐨𝐛 𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐲𝐝 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐛
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"Yeah, the little white one is Pearl," you excitedly tell the Dagger Squad as you scroll through the photos of your newest foster kittens. "And the little brown tabby is Poppy!"
You're leaning over a table in the training room, grinning ear-to-ear as you show off the billion pictures you've taken of the sweet little kittens that have been consuming your life.
The squad is doing everything in their power to show interest in the photos, swallowing yawns and making over-exaggerated nodding motions when you turn to look for their approval. It isn't just that they love you and genuinely wouldn't want to seem uninterested in something so important to you, but it's also that your dad could have their heads mounted on the walls if they so much as upset you.
You're a Simpson--Cyclone's only daughter and youngest child--but you couldn't be more opposite of your father. You're a bubbly person by nature, someone who could talk to a brick wall. You're the kind of person that could ruin their favorite jeans and still somehow have a good day.
Rooster and Phoenix have their arms crossed as you scroll through the endless pictures, one blurry picture of a little kitten to the next. But they adore you--you're grinning so big that you could light up a dark room. So they keep watching, smiling and nodding.
Bob's watching from across the room very subtly. At this point, the two of you have mastered subtly. As much as he wishes he could be one of the people that crowds around you to look at kitten pictures, he knows that he wouldn't be able to help himself from getting a little too close to you. He doesn't think he'd be able to stop himself from pecking your cheek or wrapping his arm around your waist. So he doesn't go out of his way to be overly affectionate to you when he sees you around on base, which is often. He's Bob, which means he's overtly polite and overly-nice, and he treats you the same as he'd treat anyone else on base. But it's these little stolen glances that keeps him going throughout the day--just ticking the minutes until the day is over and he can go home to you and your kittens. There he can do whatever he damn well pleases with you without having to worry about prying eyes.
"Oh, and just look at this video I got of Poppy..." you laugh, scrolling quickly through your camera roll in search of a video of Poppy trying to climb the sofa.
Your heart jumps in your throat when you pass the picture. It's quick, really, just a fleeting image across your screen. But you know what it is: it's the picture you took of Bob napping with the kittens the other day. It's unmistakably Bob, too, despite his stubble and un-gelled hair. You're praying no one else saw it, praying that everyone's lost interest by now.
But you have six of some of the world's greatest Fighter Pilots around you, watching your phone with their eagle-eyes. Nothing really gets past them.
"Wait," Hangman interrupts, pointing to the phone with furrowed brows. "Go back."
The rest of the squad makes a sound of agreement and you try to stutter something back, something that resembles an excuse, but then Rooster is reaching out himself and swiping back through the photos.
The chorus of gasps that fill the room draw Bob out of his trance. He looks away from where your fingers are curled around your phone and sees that all six of his squad-mates are staring at him with their jaws slacked and their eyes wide. Except Hangman--no, he's grinning ear-to-ear. You're already looking at Bob, too, apologetically grimacing and mouthing I'm so sorry to him.
"Bob Floyd," Phoenix starts lowly, glancing down at the picture again. Her voice is stained with disbelief--how could she have missed you and Bob? She loved both of you so much and Hell, she even trusted Bob with her life. How could she have not known before?
"You sly, sly dog," Coyote says, grinning, clapping you on the shoulder.
"Simpson's daughter?" Fanboy adds, like you aren't standing right there. "Floyd, you animal!"
What the squadron doesn't know is that your father is actually quite fond of Bob--he even insists that Bob call him Beau. They've shared a couple glasses of good scotch and Simpson has even invited Bob to play golf a couple of Sunday's. Really, your relationship is only a secret from the squadron--and you feel vindicated for making that decision as you watch all of them scramble to pat Bob on the shoulder.
"Well, I'll be damned," Rooster whistles with an impressed grin, squeezing your arm. "You and Bobby Floyd."
You're blushing something fierce, watching as Bob flushes at all the sudden attention, not confident enough to stand while the boys ruffle his hair.
"Guess the cat's out of the bag," Bob finally manages to say, laughing dryly at his poorly-timed pun.
Payback grins at you.
"You're a lucky lady, aren't you?"
The truth is you are a lucky lady. You and Bob have been together for longer than any of the squadron would ever guess, carefully tip-toeing around base when you see each other to not draw attention to situation. Bob makes your coffee every morning and you adopt kittens together. You iron Bob's uniform because you used to do it for your father and you think Bob is just as important. You dance on sunlit porches and share good wine with your family on Saturday nights after big dinners. Bob's the best person you've ever met.
And Bob knows that really, he's the lucky one here. Because you're the best thing that's ever happened to the world--period. You're funny, like the kind of funny that has him laughing before the sun's even come up and he didn't think that was possible. You still get excited every time he comes home, racing to the foyer and smashing your lips against his as you chatter about your day and help him unlace his boots. You're the kind of person that will bottle-feed kittens every two hours and not so much as complain about it, not even when the feedings are at three in the morning.
The two of you are totally and completely in love--you have been for a while. But, yes, Bob's right: the cat is out of the bag now.
"I am a lucky lady," you tell Payback, locking your phone and making your way over to Bob with a sweet, sweet smile.
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here is my tag list!!
𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤, 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐮𝐲 𝐦𝐞 𝐚 𝐊𝐨𝐟𝐢 ☺
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