#maybe its just my laptop throwing things off

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

ouagh Wallee.... so so happy he's a seventies boy. peak fashion

bonus:

[houseofanticipation]

It's impossible to count the number of times you've imagined this moment. Late at night, under the covers; in the bathtub, and the shower; on slow days at the bookstore, the summer before senior year; during Mr. Madrigal's long, droning lectures. You fantasized so vividly you could see each scene on the back of your eyelids, hear each sound between breaths. Many a time your hand migrated southward, almost of its own volition. If you were in public, you'd hold it against your crotch, pressing it into yourself with the force of your clenched thighs. In private, you'd be far less subtle.

In all those fantasies, you never imagined it would look quite like this.

The hallway smells like cigarettes and industrial cleaner. The haphazardly patterned carpet is coming up at the edges. The yellow tube light overhead might be attempting morse code, the way it flickers. Paint peels from the door in front of you, and one of the metal digits in the room number has been replaced with one that doesn't quite match: room 233. You raise your hand, your knuckles inches from the door, and then you pause. You're not sure if you can go through with this.

Before you can decide, the door opens anyway.

You started posting pictures in your first year of college. It was just your tits at first. You'd been quietly following those subreddits and tumblr blogs for a while, and you thought it would be a bit of fun, a little thrill. You didn't expect the response you got: dozens of people telling you how much they'd enjoyed it, asking for more. So you posted more, and the people asked for different things. Post your ass. Post your cunt. Post your fingers in your cunt. Post audio of you moaning as you came. The more you revealed of yourself, the more attention you got, and the more attention you got, the more you wanted to show. People wanted to send you tips, so you set up a Cash App address. You never got much, a few dollars here and there, but it was nice to get a free coffee now and then.

And somewhere along the way, apparently, you let slip that you were a virgin.

The message came late last semester, from a Cash App user whose name was just a string of numbers. It read, "I will buy your virginity for $100,000. So you know I'm serious, here is $7000 for you to keep, deal or no deal. Let me know if interested."

It was like one of those hypotheticals you talk about with your friends at the dinner table. Would you work nonstop for a year if it meant you never had to work again? Would you cut off your hand if it meant you never had to die? Would you let a stranger from the internet take your virginity for a hundred thousand dollars? You thought about it for weeks. The 7 thousand in itself was a windfall you never could have imagined. It was the new laptop you needed, four times over. It was a large iced coffee ever day for three and a half years. After graduation, if you were smart, it could be your living expenses for the better part of a year. But a hundred thousand might be a house, or a car, or a few years of freedom to pursue your goals. And when you asked how you could trust him to pay when he'd gotten what he wanted, he told you he'd be happy to pay up front.

So here you are, in a dingy hotel, face to face with the broad-shouldered, potbellied older man in front of you. "I saw you through the peephole," he says. There's something impish about him. Maybe it's the toothy grin, or the way his ears stick out from his head, or the obvious glee in his voice as he looks you up and down. "My, you're much better in person. Come in! You got the money then?"

You nod. You didn't leave the Lyft until it was there in your account.

"Good," he says, throwing the dead bolt. "Let's get to it then, shall we?"

"What should...I mean, how do you want to..." you feel yourself talking strangely. Breathing in the wrong places, words tumbling over each other. "Maybe we should...talk first? Get to know each other?"

"No need for that," says the man matter-of-factly, unbuttoning his shirt. His chest is smooth, his skin a mottled pink. He waves a hand at your body. "Go ahead and get those off."

Back in high school, one of your recurring fantasies involved Jason Meier having his way with you in the back of that beat up convertible he used to drive. That old thing used to get you so wet. It was a piece of junk, but something about the exposure of it...In the fantasy, he's driven you out to some secluded spot outside of town. Cicadas drone all around. The night sky shines bright with stars. He cups your face with one hand, strokes your cheek with his thumb, asks you if this is your first time. He kisses the side of your mouth, then your jaw, then below your ear, then down your neck. As his hands undo the top button of your blouse, he tells you he'll be gentle.

The man is watching you expectantly. With his shirt on, he looked like a portly old man. Without it you can see that every inch of that stocky build is hard muscle. That pink skin strains against his mass, muscle rippling beneath it as he moves. "What are you waiting for?"

Your legs tremble. Your knees feel like they're about to buckle. You can hear your heart pounding in your ears. Your body has never done this before. You didn't know you could feel this kind of fear, and yet there's nothing to fight, nowhere to flee. You agreed to this. You decided this was what you wanted. Slowly, you pull your shirt over head.

He groans in the back of his throat, a long, growly sound. His face is a mask of focus, the impish joviality gone, his eyes fixated on your breasts. "And the rest."

You kick off your shoes, pull off your socks. An inch at a time, you slide your shorts and panties over your ass, down your legs, past your trembling knees. You step out of them, and now you're completely exposed. You cross your arms over your chest, then lower them when he grunts disapproval. Almost urgently, he unbuttons his pants, pulls out a long, rigid cock, and begins to stroke himself.

You didn't discover internet porn until your senior year, and before then the only penises you'd seen were a few drawings in your health textbook. In the fantasy, you unbutton Jason Meier's pants and fig. 7.5, "The penis becomes engorged when in state of arousal," pops out of his underwear. You take it in your hands, feeling the weight of it, the girth, and look up into those beautiful brown eyes of his.

This cock is much...realer. It has bounce, texture, even a sound as his hand slides up and down its length. It's longer than the one in that old fantasy, too, and it leans slightly to the left. For years you've wondered what it would be like to see a cock in person, and now that you're here it terrifies you.

"Come here," says the man, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Get on your knees."

You falter. "You didn't...I mean, we didn't agree to that."

"I bought your virginity," says the man. "You ever suck cock before?"

You shake your head.

"Then your mouth is just as much a virgin as your cunt. Get down here."

It's almost a relief to get off your legs, the way they've been threatening to give out. Close up, you can see the purples and blues of the veins under his skin. The head of his cock pulses with anticipation as your lips part, your tongue extends...

You don't think you can do this.

Then his hand is on the back of your head.

You always imagined Jason Meier whimpering as you took him into your mouth. You were never quite able to picture what he would feel like between your lips, on your tongue; the movie camera of your imagination always panned up at that point, to focus on his face. He would let his head fall back in pleasure, eyebrows knit with sensation, lips slightly parted. Now, though, there's no camera to pan. You are here. This is real. And his powerful hand is pushing your mouth onto his cock.

A sound you can't control comes out of you. Your back arches, your hands flail, and then by pure instinct they're on his belly, pushing against him, away from him. Spit runs down your chin, and you wipe it away with the back of your hand. "I'm sorry," you say, looking anywhere but at his face. "I'm sorry, I can't, I thought I could do this but I can't."

There's a horrible darkness in his voice. "I already gave you the money."

"I know, I'll give it back, I'm sorry." The words trip over each other on the way out of your mouth. "I'm really sorry, I shouldn't have, I just, I thought I could..."

His hand is on the back of your head again, and this time his fingers are curled tight into your hair. He jerks your head back, forcing you to look at him, and his eyes are cold and predatory. "I'm not interested in returning what's already bought and paid for." He jams himself back into your mouth.

You always imagined yourself savoring it, taking your time to explore every inch of Jason's length with your tongue, but there's no time for that now. The veiny, throbbing thing in your mouth bypasses your tongue entirely, forcing past your uvula. You gag, then gag again. Your stomach churns and you convulse as your body tries to remove the foreign object, but the man just pushes harder. Your eyes water as he slides deeper, deeper, making your throat bulge, your limbs spasm. As his balls touch your chin, you close your eyes and try to relax your throat.

He holds you like that. You gag for a third time, and thick saliva explodes through the gaps around his cock, dripping down your chin and collecting in a long, dangling rope. Tears roll down your cheeks as you try to acclimatize to the feeling, try to convince your body that nothing is wrong. You think you've got it, and then he moves slightly, and you're gagging again. He groans, grips your head tighter, and in the back of your throat you feel his cock swell slightly. He likes it when you gag for him, says a voice in the back of your mind. The motion is pleasurable for him.

You've got another problem rearing its head. You can't breathe. It was fine at first, but the man shows no interest in freeing up your airways, and in all the gagging and crying, you haven't exactly been conserving your oxygen. You pat his leg, trying to signal to him, but all he does is clap you on the side of the head. Your ear rings, you gag again, and his cock throbs. Black walls are closing in on your vision. The effort of struggling against him becomes too much, and your arms fall to your sides. Your eyelids flutter. You're going to pass out. You're going to pass out, and then what will he do to you?

But just before the world fades to black, he pulls your head back again. You feel every inch of his cock as it slides out of your throat. He lifts your face, and your eyes struggle to focus on his as you take lungful after lungful of glorious air. Drool spills across your lips, but you don't care. You're alive.

The man slaps you hard, leaving a stinging impression of his palm on your cheek. You whimper. Two of his fingers are in your mouth, pushing on the back of your tongue. Not knowing exactly why, you close your lips around them and shut your eyes.

"That's better," he says.

The first time you saw a male sex toy in use was in an ad before a porn video you were watching. You were taken aback by the way the performer had pounded it over his cock, barely more than an extension of his hand. You're reminded of that image as he parts your lips again, and the rape of your throat begins in earnest.

You haven't thought about Jason Meier in years, but at this moment he's the only thing keeping you sane. As your face rams up and down, up and down, you retreat to that beat up convertible, and Jason's soft, thoughtful face. As the man tightens his grip, Jason runs his fingers through your hair. As the man grunts and growls with pleasure, Jason coos your name. With each stroke of his cock down your throat, each spasm of your body, you focus on a different part of Jason's body: his large hands, his long fingers, his shoulders, his jawline, his liquid brown eyes. By the time the man finally releases your hair, you can barely feel your body any more. The convertible is far more real than the squeaky motel bed. The hands on your body are Jason's, soft and tender.

He climbs over the center console straddling you. You lock lips, feel your tongues in each other's mouths, kiss so deeply that it feels as though you share the same breath. He pulls the lever to lay your seat back, and then he's over you, on top of you, lifting your skirt, pulling your panties to the side.

This is the part where, in the old days, you would have slipped a finger or two inside yourself. But this time you don't have to. This time you can feel him inside you, really feel him, and he fills you up like your fingers never could. There's some pain—they told you there'd be pain, didn't they, your first time—but it falls away to the thrill, the lust, the pleasure. Jason whimpers as he slides into you, deeper, deeper, and you moan into each other's mouths as his pelvis meets yours. You take a moment to savor it, breathing each other in, and then he begins to thrust.

You feel drunk. It's exactly like you always imagined it, and somehow better than you could ever have expected. Each movement of his hips brings another sensation: a spasm in the arches of your feet, a hitch in your breath, a churning, swirling need in the depths of your abdomen. Deeper you tell him, harder, and he obliges, pulling you into him, and him into you.

You can feel the orgasm building, but it isn't like any you've had before. Every time you've ever cum, you've been in control. This time, Jason is in control. Jason decides when you cum, how you cum. One hand supports his weight as he leans over you, and the other slides up your belly. You used to watch those hands obsessively. The way he held a pencil, the way he bit his knuckles when he was thinking. Now that hand slides up, caresses your breast. Now that thumb brushes your hair out of your face. Now those fingers close around your throat.

You know you're safe with Jason, but the pressure on your throat triggers some animal fear response in you. You try to squirm away, but his arm is strong, and his hand his firm. Your hands go to his wrist. "I don't like that, stop." He just smiles. It isn't his usual sweet smile, either. This one is cruel. Predatory.

Your face feels tight. Your eyes bulge. You're beginning to panic for real now. "Jason, seriously, stop!" You beat at his arm with your fists, but he easily takes both your wrists in one hand and pins them over your head. You try to kick at him, but he's already past your defenses, between your legs, pushing them uselessly apart. His grip tightens, his rhythm increases, his cock swells inside you. He's getting off on this.

All at once you're back in the hotel room. The man's sweaty red face is inches away from your own, and the lust in his eyes is obvious. His cock seems to push deeper with every thrust, and the horrible thing is that the orgasm is still coming. It's close now, you can feel it, and it's like he knows exactly how to bring it out. You feel floaty, tingly, and that awful pleasure is welling up inside you, a pot about to boil over...

"That's right," he says, his eyes locked on yours. "That's what I was waiting for. That perfect mix of...pleasure...and...fear." He punctuates each of these last three words with a long, deep thrust, and it's these that send the orgasm spilling over. A choked moan pushes itself out of you as your back arches, your toes curl, your legs wrap involuntarily around his waist, tears roll down your cheeks. That floaty feeling has combined with the orgasm to create something like how you imagine heroin must feel; a wave of mind numbing, soul deadening ecstasy. Your insides feel hot, and at first you think that must just be what it feels like when you cum from sex, but then you see the look on his face and realize that he's cumming too. His grip relaxes and he pounds away a few more times at your now-limp body. You stare at the ceiling as he moans, buries his face between your tits, pumps round after round of his warm, thick cum into your cunt, your womb. After one final push he collapses onto you, his cock still inside you, his bulk crushing you into the bed. You don't move.

He strokes your cheek. Fondles your nipple. Kisses your neck. Then he kisses your mouth, his tongue pushing your lips open, his breath like damp earth. You barely see him.

It must be almost ten minutes before he finally gets up, his limp cock sliding out of you at last. You can feel his cum dripping from your cunt as he puts on his underwear, then pants, then shirt, then shoes. "The room is paid for the night," he says with his hand on the door handle. "Thank you for struggling. Taking someone's virtue is so much better when you actually get to take it.

You don't respond.

You don't know how long you lie there, motionless, dripping cum. Oddly, the man who just raped you isn't the one burned onto your mind's eye. Try as you might to return to that sweet teenage fantasy, all you can see is Jason Meier as he held his hand to your throat, and that cruel, predatory smile on his face.

[cyberpunkhwx]

When they find your p*rn dash

❥Pairing: ateez maknae line x gn(fem?) Reader

❥Genre: suggestive

❥Warning: mention of porn, mention of future sexual actions, suggestive, comedy?(nah just me trying to be funny)

❥Word count: 1k

❥Requested? No

San:

A hand covering Shibers eyes and he stared at your pc screen. Jaw almost reaching the ground.

Well, that's how you found him.

"Sannie? What are you doing here??"

Your voice made him flinch as he closed the tabs and shut the pc.

"Nothing love" he said giving you his bread smile and running out of your shared room, suspiciously giggling to himself.

"weird" thought as you let it slid. You're used to having a giggly human being in your apartment anyways.

2 weeks later

"Sannie feels so g-good omg!!" You whined squirming away from his wondering hands all over your skin.

"I got a surprise for you" He said letting a breathy chuckle out.

He moved from on top of your body to the bed desk on the side.

Your body heat start to miss the warms of him thick fingers and you start to shiver.

But the awful feeling was soon forgotten when you heard the low noise of a vibration nearby.

"Sannie? What's that?" You asked him; staring at his handsome bare face for a sort of hint. But as you slowly lowered your gaze, you saw the pink long item shaking around itself. Almost as identical

as ....? NO WAY

"Oh?" He said the smirk never leaving his face.

"So I bought the wrong size? Guess I was to busy getting the right shade of pink that I forgot what size you're used to"

"I know you'd rather have the real deal here" He paused grabbing your ankles and dragging you closer on the silk mattress of the bed.

"But bet you wanna try out your gift first right princess? You probably touch yourself all night to it"

Shit was about to get real girl.

Mingi:

After a long day all you wanted to do was to lay down and do nothing. But a curtain fancam of your boyfriend say otherwise.

Mingi been at the studio with Hongjoon the whole day. As if Hongjoong is his gf and not you.

You huffed. Unfair. You wanted to call him to come back but then another idea reached your brain.

You grabbed your laptop and layed down comfortably on your shared bed.

"Who needs a boyfriend when my twitter girlie share their bf railing them for lonely other girlies" 💅🏻

After setting the laptop in a good angle letting your hands travel everywhere.

"Mingi~" you whined. If he ain't taking care of you, you'll do it yourself

.....

"Jagiii I'm home" He yelled when he didn't find you greeting him when he finally came back. Not like you were still mad, you just decided to take a shower, leaving your laptop on your bed.

He heard the water running in the bathroom so he assumed you're in there. So he throw his shows off and threw himself on the couch, checking his socials.

He could hear some noises from your shared bedroom but he just let it slide. But the noise kept on getting louder.

"Y/n? Darling? Are you upstairs already? Did you not see me?" He said making his way toward the door, but no one was there. "Y/n?"

The closer he got to the noise the more he realised that it doesn't sound like you at all.

"Oh maybe she was watching Netflix 👀" He lifted your laptop to pause the video. He almost dropped the laptop he saw a girl getting railed to the 7th cloud.

"Damn, that's some nice inspo she got" He said as if it's a daily thing. Sharing the link to his messenger so he can *hmph* study it later.

Woo:

"Jagi do you also watch jjangjjang roleplays ? "

He asked from behind you, scaring the hell out of you.

"Hey wai-what- what do you mean? How do YOU know?" You said feeling like your braincells had nothing to say to him.

"Oh everyone knows them! The sanie dude is really hot ain't he? He's My rolemodel" He said proudly taking a closer look to the phone in your hand. Holding it close not letting you take it away. Too stunned to react in any way.

"Oh is it short videos? Tsk,  its 2023 don't be so poor 🙄 I already bought the subscription to their OnlyFans for a year" He said going through your saved videos.

"What-?"

" Here let me logg into my ID. The recent video was a pet play one and they were gonna try a new toy! We should watch it together!!! I'll bring the snacks"   

He said running downstairs to bring whatever he finds in the refrigerator. Leaving you all frozen and shocked on you side of the bed

Jongho

"Babe have you seen my phone?" You yelled from across the hall, walking around looking confused.

"How am I supposed to know love?" He yelled back at you not taking his head away from the his game set.

"Babeeee, come and help me at least" you said walking towards him. Trying to get him to pay attention and reached over his shoulder to grab the controller out of his hands. Jongho barely looked up, muttering something about "just one more level" as he continued to play.

You rolled your eyes before you got an idea. You grabbed the CD that was lying next to the game console. You knew that this was the game Jongho had been dying to play for weeks, so she figured that if she took it away, he would have no choice but to pay attention to her.

SMART ASS 😗

Well you must've forgotten that Jongho was stronger than a whole ass grizzly bear. As soon as he realized what you were  trying to do, he grabbed you by the waist and manhandled her back onto the couch.

"Let me goooooo" You protested, trying to wiggle out of Jongho's grasp.

"Nice try, nope"

"Could you pleeeeease help me find my phone?" You asked, pouting slightly.

He finally gave up, not wanting to annoy you already. He got up his chair, after pausing his game of course!

He finally found the buzzing phone under a pillow beside the bed.

"Why would she drop her phone down here?" He bent down to pick it up, declining the call leading you phone the twitter side that made poor Jongho face a women in a  maid cos-play riding a pink ass dragon dildo.

"What the he- ooooh" He squinted his eyes when literally the whole screen got blocked by white liquid-

"Oh Jongie, did you find my phone thank yo-

"You barely fucking take half of me and then you put your sausage finger in your pussy to THIS?"

He said throwing you phone back on the pillow, dragging you arm and pushing you on the bed.

"You're gonna be freaking shaking after I'm done with you"

A/n: I'm not opologising for Wooyoung, you should've expected it yourself😊

Masterlist

[vanwritesfan-fiction]

Omg I have one what if reader accidentally calls jack by one of her guy friends name after she just went on a trip with her friends or something and he gets mad, hehehehe I love me some angst

Jack walked by the dining room on the way to his studio, focused on his phone. He stopped in the doorway, leaning in the threshold as he looked through the menu of a local restaurant.

You were elbow deep in a project that was quickly approaching its deadline, and to say you were stressed was an understatement.

"Babe, I'm gonna order dinner for us. Does Mexican food sound okay?" You were so engrossed in your work, you didn't hear him walk up or speak.

"Babe?" He called for your attention again. "Does Mexican food sound good?"

"Yes, sounds good Chris." You responded with an exasperated breath. Jack's brow furrowed. "Who the hell is Chris?"

"What?", you ran a hand across your face. "Oh, Chris is just some guy that I work with. Sorry, that was a slip of the tongue."

"This guys name has never come up before, and now you're calling your boyfriend his name. Doesn't sound like a fuckin' slip of the tongue to me." Jack knew he was being ridiculous, but the last couple of weeks had been really busy, and you had barely seen each other. He was using this opportunity to take some misguided frustrations out on you.

"What are you even talking about? It was an accident. I just got off a call with Chris, his name was just on my mind." You scoffed, turning back to your computer. "I don't have time for this right now."

Jack walked into the room, continuing to dig. "So this Chris guy, what's his deal? Is he married?"

"You better think twice about what you're accusing me of, Jackman."

"I'm not accusing you of anything. I'm just wondering who is this guy that you're spending all this time with. What do you really know about him?"

"You know what I do know about him? He's not a jealous asshole like my boyfriend. He doesn't question whether or not I'm cheating on him because I accidentally called him another guy's name one time."

"Maybe if you spent less time on work, and more time with your boyfriend, he wouldn't have to worry where your loyalties lie." Jack was yelling at this point, his face beat red as he tried to catch his breath. You were on the verge of tears, the lump in your throat building.

"Wow that is really rich coming from someone who missed his girlfriend's birthday because of work." You slammed your laptop shut. Jack opened his mouth to speak, but you stopped him with a hand up.

"Jack, I'm always very understanding of your busy schedule, the least you could do is respect my time as well. I know I'm not a famous rapper, but I am a person with her own goals and dreams that don't involve just being a rapper's girlfriend." You wiped a stray tear from your cheek, trying your best to hold in your cries until you were alone. You weren't going to give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry.

"Please, don't try to pretend this is the same thing. No matter how many women throw themselves at me, I never forget your name." Jack was grasping at straws at this point, he had already lost the argument.

"You know what? I don't have time for this." You quickly gathered your things, pushing past Jack on the way to the front door.

"Oh, and by the way, Jack. Chris is a 65 year old man, with a wife he's been with for over 40 years, two kids, and 5 grandkids. You jackass." You punctuated your sentence with a slam of the door, leaving Jack all alone in the mess he created.

[oathkeeperoxas]

Hello, my friend! 44 or 71 for Icemav, if you're still warming up? <3<3<3

ELWEN yesssss going wild for this one. Forehead press my number 1, you will always be famous to me

71. lingering forehead against forehead, consumed by each other and barely having enough strength to breathe

The call comes at 6:43pm.

Ice lets it ring for three trills, still in that limbo of not knowing. Dead, or not dead? And the less important question of if the mission was a success or not. These two things are not related to each other. A successful mission could still mean a dead pilot. If that's the case, then he's already living in a world without Maverick Mitchell. If that's the case, then he has five more seconds of not knowing about it, before the knowledge sinks its teeth into him, inescapable.

He picks the phone up. He's has a lifetime of doing the hard work, making the terrible choices that no one else wants to make. He can't avoid this forever, and he wouldn't want to, so he puts the phone to his ear and listens, and when he puts it down he has to lean his elbows onto his desk, face in his hands. Gut swooping like he's just pulled an emergency barrel roll and hadn't had the chance to prepare for it. Sick, like he's grown so used to over his treatment, sick, like he's really going to throw up. But he's had a lot of practice with this too, so he swallows it all down neatly enough. There's still work to do, maybe more work, now that they'll have to switch to soothing Russia's ruffled feathers at having their sovereignty impinged upon. Mav and Bradley won't be back in the country for another day at least. He has plenty to do to fill the time until then.

The seconds tick past, and the minutes dribble through his fingers, and the hour hand on his watch inevitably ticks forward. He gets into a shouting match with the SECDEF and is called into conference with the JCS and watches as updates on the pilots who flew the mission trickle into his inbox. Mav's medical report is last, which means he only nibbles on dinner, a bad habit that Mav would scold him for. Ice would take it, would take any words from him, as long as he he here to speak them.

He works through the night and gets to sleep somewhere about quarter to five, and is back at his computer before ten. Mav's report has come in, and while it doesn't look great, it's not all bad news. He's walking under his own power, and while injured, apparently isn't in too much pain. Ice holds his own reservations about that. Mav's never enjoyed telling an authority figure everything. Ice will get the truth out of him when they see each other next.

All the pilots are in flight back to North Island, which means they're out of contact even if Ice wanted to reach out, which he doesn't. This isn't the first time that Mav has been on a mission and Ice has been able to do nothing but wait for him to come home. He prefers to wait to see Mav in person before they talk to each other. It's better that way.

He fends off orders to fly to Washington, at least delaying until tomorrow or the day after, and makes up for it by sitting on conferences all afternoon while typing away furiously at the dozens of emails that have landed in his inbox. Everything is a flurry of activity, everything needs his attention now, and yet he puts everything aside when he sees that the transport has landed at North Island, and that all the pilots have been taken for debriefing, except for the two who spent time on the ground, who have been shuttled to the base hospital. Ice packs up his laptop and notifies his driver, and is on the road immediately.

He's not in uniform, so manages to fly mostly under the radar until he hits the two Marines standing guard outside Mav's hospital room, who only give way when they recognise him. Ice bids them to wait outside, and closes the door behind him when he enters. There's a curtain that's hiding most of Mav from his sight; the only part of him that Ice can see are his feet, which are bare. His toes are poking out from the side of the blanket that Mav has thrown over him, and Ice is hit with a wave of emotion that's as irrational as it is powerful -- Mav's feet are uninjured. His toes are okay. He can see that. It makes it hard to breathe, and he steadies himself before stepping forward, not wanting to cough and worry his partner. This is not a moment for Mav to be worried about Ice.

"Did you bring me some real clothes?" Mav grumbles. "I'm not wearing this. This is an attack on decency. I'm fine. I don't need to be here. Who do I have to speak to, to go home?"

Ice closes his eyes and musters himself after that volley. Then he moves forward under full sail, to stand at the end of Mav's bed and lay a hand on his ankle.

"I didn't bring you any clothes," Ice rumbles, voice hoarse from all the speaking he's been putting it through today. "And you can come home when the doctors say you can leave."

"Ice," Mav says, eyes wide, and Ice can't stay away from him anymore. Mav is already struggling to sit up, and Ice sits on the bed and ropes his arms around him, lashing them together. Mav makes a low sound, torn somewhere from deep in his chest, and presses their heads against each other. Ice tilts them so their foreheads are together, noses and mouths close, breathing the same air. "Ice," Mav repeats, desperate, and Ice wants to squeeze him and never let him go for scaring Ice so badly, for coming to him in the first place and asking to do this, for daring to get shot down and for making Ice receive the news that he's dead, only to be told that he'd pulled off the impossible--

Ice presses a palm to Mav's neck to feel his pulse, and they're both gasping against each other, clinging like they're at sea and the other is their lifeboat. Like lovers to be parted on the morrow. Like they'll never get another day quite like this one.

"You scared the shit out of me," Ice manages, and Mav barks a laugh through his tears.

"You're telling me," Mav manages, cupping a hand on Ice's cheek and wiping away the wetness under his eyes. "I was pretty scared myself."

"The kid?" Ice asks.

"He's better than me. Young bones, and all that."

Ice can hardly breathe. He pulls away to clear his throat, and then comes back to lay his head on Mav's shoulder and press his face into Mav's throat. Mav's hand rests on the back of his neck. There's still so much to do. Ice can feel the weight of his emails piling up in his inbox. But he can put off making the hard decisions for an hour. He can let himself be human for an hour. Mav's arms have the power to protect him. He hasn't lost that privilege. He hasn't lost Mav.

"If you think I'm letting you do anything like that ever again--"

Mav laughs. "Yeah, yeah. I know. I used that one favour up. Won't happen again. We're even now -- how about we don't do that to each other again, yeah?"

It's good he's sitting down. The dizzying relief would have forced him to anyway. He lays a kiss over Mav's pulse.

"I don't think cancer and flying into a deathtrap are particularly equivalent," Ice grits out. "But I'm willing to overlook that if you are."

Mav cradles him gently, laying kisses against his crown. "Sounds like a plan to me."

Ice sighs and sits up. "Are you okay?" he asks. "I know you've been lying to try and get out of here faster."

Mav sniffs, pretending to be offended. "They're not falling for it," he says plaintively.

"Good. Start telling them how you really feel. I'm not going anywhere, anytime soon."

"Yeah?" Mav asks, looking up at him.

"Yeah," Ice says softly. "Gotta keep an eye on my troublemakers."

Mav's eyes crinkle into his familiar smile, and Ice is home, home, home.

A hundred different kisses prompt list

[shidouryusm]

𓆩♡𓆪✿༝༚༝༚ -> You're so cool. It makes me hate you so much

Kuroo x reader (gn)

word count- 2.5k words (excuse me wtaf?!)

content: hinted rivals to lovers, mutual pining, lots of bickering between reader and kuroo, mention of cunt (not in smut way).

A.n -> once again this is my worded desire of having a rivals to lover trope in my life. Also it's my first time attempting so let me know how it is. not proofread bruh it's almost 2:30am here.

The night arrives with all its glory of darkness. People marching out in costumes – fake  crimson blood dripping off the sides of their lips while face smothered in white paint, or dark cloaks shrouded their body while a skull mask decorated their face.

Loud music blares into life through the screen of your phone as you watch a small snippet of a party that was getting wilder and wilder via your bestfriend/roomate’s instagram story. She just took a swig of her drink and you were concerned how is she going to hold herself up.

Hollers of enjoyment and rhythmless singing along to songs were mixed with the deafening bass of music.  Everyone was out and about…everyone except you. 

Well, with a stuck up snob as a professor who assigned a report immediately the morning after and with final exams edging near, you had no option but be the bummer and cancel on all invites, leaving your costume hanging sadly on your closet and get down with laptops and notes. 

Frustrations bubbles inside you and FOMO nearly kills your motivation to even study. You put aside your phone, not indulging in moping over other people’s stories anymore. A sigh leaves your lips as you continue finishing the report you wished you didn’t procrastinate. 

Your mind still ponders over the party that you could have went to.

“well at the end, the little A’s splayed all over the grade sheet would be worth all of it.”

You attempt to console yourself. You shall compensate by scoring the top on the finals and rub it on the face of a certain ravenette. Smiling devilishly at the thought.

You hate to admit but a majority part of you keens to perform the best in this elective course that has remotely no relation with your major is to beat that one particular student in your class.

Kuroo Tetsuro. 

The overachieving dumbass nearly topping every exam that he takes. Waltz around the campus with a smirk that urges all the nerves in your body to break through and act on their accord to strangulate him. It’s been only the second time that you matched a course with him but no one in university was more competent than him when it came to pop a vessel in your forehead. 

You don’t even recall how the dynamic between you two ended up like the way it is but you would rather throw yourself from a cliff, down into a lake of acid before thinking about being civil, let alone be friends with him. 

Maybe you are exaggerating, you consciously think, before the memory of him completely destroying your arguments in a debate just a few days back resurfaced in your brain. 

The smug smirk and quirked eyebrows that he flashed your way after the professor referred his points as “seemingly unbeatable” and “you could learn a thing or two from him!!” made your insides fill with bitter grudge against him once again.

But are you the one always getting the short end of the stick? Absolutely not. You are positive that your feelings are reciprocated by him whenever you raise your hands to critic his works. The narrowed hazel eyes and scorned face mirrors all your emotions whenever you bite back his words with equal wit and banter, effectively shutting him up. And that fills you with brimming satisfaction. 

However, amidst this back and forth competition of getting the better grade and constantly critiquing each other, your eyes don’t miss out the way he looks. The unmissed tension that lies between the space whenever you both get in close proximity always leaves you a little breathless, like you’re holding your breath whenever he’s this close. The way his lips looks so glossy whenever your eyes land on them. Your mind subconsciously wondering how they might ta-

Tsk

You snap the book shut and click your tongue in annoyance. Why are you even thinking about him? Pretending that your brain did not just conjure the thought seconds ago, you open your book and return back on doing your work, your mind occupied with newfound competitiveness against him. 

--

The clock hit 10 pm when you rose from the chair, your back stiffened from being in this position, like any wrong movement could crack it. You decide on a quick shower to relieve yourself from the piling stress and stiffness. 

Just as you were finishing up with your skincare, humming while a towel robe drapes your body and hair saturated with water, a series of doorbell broke through your comfortable bubble. Constantly pressing the button like some stubborn kid wanting a trick or treat. 

“If you keep on ringing like that, you best believe I'm tricking your whole lifetime” you mutter as you hurriedly prod towards the door. Opening it with a bit more force, you are met with your stumbling roommate, head hung low and the smell alcohol reek off her. Her feet barely doing any work to balance her and no sooner than that, she topples over, wrapping herself around you.

“Yui?! Oh my goodness. YUI! Are you okay?” you barely register the second person accompanying her as you try to retrieve your passed out bestfriend.

“I don’t think she’s gonna wake up anytime soon”, the deep voice rang through your ears. Your brain processing it two times to reconfirm you actually heard that before your eyes finally landed on the second company. 

His hair was spiked up as usual in his bed hair. Eyes the same batch of hazel and honey. A white dress shirt adorned his upper half, sleeves rolled till the forearms and finally your eyes zooms on his nearly cat-like face. 

“What on earth are you doing here?” your tone carrying equal measures of accusation and surprise. He scoffingly laughs, “well I certainly did not drop by for a chat and some tea time with you. If you haven’t really noticed, your bestfriend is shitfaced to the point of no return. So me, being the gentleman I am, dropped her off.”, you roll your eyes till it reaches your forehead, a snide chuckle escaping your mouth.

“Humour me. You and gentleman don’t exactly fit in one sentence.” you taunt, drawing a sigh out of him. 

“Just like you and compassion, kindness, gratitude, appreciation do not?” he sneers. Before you can retort, you feel Yui’s weight slip off of you and you hastily try to balance her before she falls face down.

But an unconscious person carries weights like a sack of boulders, making it difficult for you to handle. You look over Yui’s shoulder to see Kuroo still standing, a look of pure amusement plastered on his face as he enjoyed the mess in front of him.

“Mind helping?” you bite back at him, barely able to hold the now tumbling Yui. Kuroo swiftly steps in, draping one of Yui’s hand over his neck and balancing her. 

“There’s a nice word called “please”, but of course you wouldn’t know.” you hear him mutter breathily. 

“People lend a hand voluntarily without asking in such situations but ofcourse, kuroo the entitled tetsuro needs a laminated invite card” you dryly say, watching his eyes narrow and mock hurt creeping up on his face. 

“For someone looking pretty as you, you surely got a foul mouth” kuroo hums and you act like your heart didn’t do an unsolicited somersault at that, you clear your throat, muttering a low "anyways" and focus on guiding your bestfriend from the threshold of the door to her bedroom. 

Grin crawls on kuroo’s face knowing he did hit it where it was supposed to be. 

Once settled into the bedroom, you carefully take off her shoes, and remove little of the makeup that she got smeared all over. Her hair was matted with tangles and a little remnant of her puke dried on the side of her lips, that you quickly wipe with a wet towel. 

“What made you all drunk like you lost your lover, Yui?” you wonder out loud. Yui was in no condition to answer so the only response you received from her were snores.

Kuroo chuckles behind you, the sounds of his laughter making you turn. He was leaning against the study table. His stance radiating confidence and ease even in the silent room.

“Haven’t you got a party to attend?” you ask him. He clicks his tongue, “nah not feeling it anymore. I already got out of there with your piece of a work best friend so don’t really see a point going back.”

“Did she talk your ear off with her breakup lore?” you genuinely laugh. The sound of it reaching Kuroo’s ear, further travelling down to his heart, tugging at a string. 

“I wouldn’t say she was a sad drunk, she was hollering, singing tunelessly throughout the car, surely embarrassed the shit out of me”

“Well, if there’s anything that is left of you to get embarrassed, that is. Pretty sure she cockblocked you rightly” you say slyly.

“Says you. Weren’t you destroyed in pieces in that debate? Should have learned a thing or two from me” kuroo snorts out his sardonic laughter as he parrots your professor’s words back at you. Purposely riling you up. 

You step in closer, jabbing your pointer at his chest, “listen you. You made points stupid enough to leave anyone clueless right at that time” you hiss. Stupid counter-attack but he really grinds your gear with comments like that. 

“Points stupid enough to be “unbeatable”. Let’s accept it, sweetheart, I was better. Wouldn't kill you to do this” he grabs your pointer finger, bringing it close to his lips. For a sec, you think he's gonna kiss but he soon lets it go.

Acting like a million thoughts didn't run through your head, you quip against him.

“Uh huh? who’s leading the assignments and questionnaires then?” you proudly retort to which Kuroo shakes his head. His face inches closer, closer till remnants of his cologne hits your nose. 

“Is this why you stayed at home? Busy being a nerd? Didn't digest your defeat well?” you can feel the jeering lilt in his voice, and closely enough you could even see little evil horns sprouting at the top of his head. 

“looking for me in the crowd? Also being ahead in your work doesn’t count as being nerdy. It’s productive. I’m pretty sure I’m way ahead of you while you slack away in parties” 

“Oh yeah? What if I was?” Kuroo steps towards you, scooting a bit to the right. Now towering over your figure. You unknowingly took a step back and press against the edge of the table. You could make out how sculpted his body was underneath the white shirt, illuminated with the golden light radiating from the study table. His hands reach against your sides, knuckles brushing against the towel robe. You momentarily forget you were in nothing but a robe like that and soon heat creeps up over your cheeks and neck. He dips down till he’s face level and now you could make out the pools of honey that his eyes possess. The shirt was unbuttoned till the first two buttons and that exposed a healthy part of his collarbones and the expanse of his neck. The space between you thick with the tension and shared breath and your eyes once again land on his lips, to which you lick your own. 

Kuroo cages you between him, the scent of your shampoo now directly reaching his nose. It’s so significantly you that he audibly inhales, the sweet fragnance of creamy vanilla and coconut engulfing his senses. 

" you were what?" you glare.

"What if I was looking for you in the crowd? Had a few things to say anyways" his stare was intense, voice holding a little rasp and breathlessness that skipped a few of your breaths as well.

Kuroo wouldn't lie, he actually felt grateful for the drunken Yui back there for landing him into this situation.

The moment you had opened the door and he discovered you like that, he was itching to be closer to you. His knuckles brush against the soft fabric of your towel as he grips the table on either sides of you. His eyes landing on the way you lick your lips and he tries his best to not get ahead and close the gap between them. His mouth curves into a smirk at your faltered expression, drinking in the way you look so cute. 

How can a girl with whom he engages in a tooth and nail fight when it comes to academics can invade his thoughts like that? Randomly popping in his thoughts throughout the day and making his insides feel giddy. The front he has to put up to prevent his real emotions reaching his face makes him feel like a teenager with a stupid crush. So he acts his usual self, suppressing all the little hints of affections and thoughts he harbours for you.

But to his relief, he is sure that he is not the only one who feels the exact same way. Annoyance, competition mixed with the little hint of affection. Constantly wanting to push each other to perfection and having thoughts that blends perfectly with one another. Without the constant bickers, you both would be a team that is formidable. 

You don’t know how much time has passed while you are still like this. Your hands rest against the table right beside his and you look at him. Not wanting to break the little staring competition god knows who started. Kuroo reaches over your ear, his breath tickles you slightly as he whispers your name. Your heart thrums like it is daring to leap out. His voice holding a musky timbre and the way it sounded like dulcet almost made you forget all the times he made you want to strangle him. 

“Tetsuro…” you reply with a breathy air, not daring to break the silence that has befallen. The light snores were drifting away into the background and the only place mattered to you was this little section where you and kuroo were attached. 

“Tetsuro huh? Not sure I’d ever let you call me kuroo again, darling” his lips curve into a smile and you shamelessly ogle them. Apart from the times he manages to be the menace, he really is handsome. it is not your first time registering it but the way you are looking at him like it’s the first time is really debatable. 

“I’ll call you an insufferable cunt instead” 

“Ouch that hurts” he grumbles, still unmoving. His left hand slide over the table and it’s almost encircling you. His face scoots closer to you as if a millimeters distance will close the synapse between you. He reaches over your ear once again, finding amusement in the way it causes you to shiver ever so slightly. “You have to know this, Y/n.” kuroo huskily says. 

Anticipation bubbles inside you, as you itch to know what he’s gonna say next. 

“It’s just…I…” you wait with patience, intrigue written all over your face.

“I…already submitted up the report that you slacked on and had to finish it, leaving out on all the fun.” he brings out a file that you had freshly printed out before shower, “impressive work, darling. But as always there are some mistakes you ought to fix” 

“KUROO TETSURO GET THE HELL OUT OF MY HOUSE” you bombard him with a series of slaps across his chest while he half-heartedly dodges them, his unfiltered hyena laughter ricocheting off the room. Yui groans in the background to which you both pause before you silently launch your onslaught of attacks.

In a series of punches and slaps, you drag him towards the exit door when he grabs your hand, stopping you. Tugging your closer, this time his hands wrap against your back and once again he crouches down, whispering against your ear, an act that you discover freezes you against him.

Unfortunately enough for you, he seems to realise that too. 

“You should let Yui get shitfaced like this often so that I get the lucky opportunity to see you in a towel robe more. See you tomorrow, sweetheart.” His fingertips traces your jawline before his hands reach down your head and give a gentle pat.

uhh..what.

The tapping of foot indicates he has left, his presence still enveloping you, along with the hint of his cologne wafting through the living room. You contemplate on calling in sick tomorrow.

Damn you, Yui.

I'm not sure how to feel about this. may not be my absolute favourite but this is very self indlugent (not surprising). This is very rushed and it's me writing about kuroo after such a long time so lmk how I did!!

likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated.

tagging: @tetzoro , @kuroosexuall , @itadorey (cos I saw u not being able to see the posts on dash :(( ), @sookisaurus @quirrrky @sir-kuroo (I looked at the tags and went :0 I deadass thought I had tagged you, my most longest kuroo lover moot in this app how could I not include you im so sorry boo)

[talewrites]

Fragile Part 6

���😈😈

(This chapter got too long- I had to cut it short,,,, :]]] Enjoy!)

Generation: Bayverse TMNT

Tmnt x Reader Fanfic

Pronouns: Gender Neutral (except ‘dudette’, 'miss', and ‘princess’)

Warnings: injury, blood, electrocution, graphic depictions of torture, not proof read

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Today you were spending time with Donnie while he worked in front of his monitors. You liked it there much better than in his lab. He had a map of the city up with little marks indicating spots where the Foot had been spotted. But that wasn’t what he was working on right now.

No, you and Donnie were doing much more important things at the moment.

Like playing the new update in Stardew Valley.

“Fishing mods are cheating.” 

You gawked at him in mock offense. “But you can’t pause in a multiplayer farm, there’s no time to play the fishing mini game!!”

“That’s why it’s more of a challenge!” He stuck his tongue out while he clicked his mouse rapidly to fight off a slime in the mines.

You pouted, adjusting the laptop in your lap. “I don’t need my cozy farming sim to be challenging…” 

Donnie did not miss the cute grin that graced your face after, his heart fluttering in his chest. 

These past few days you found yourself smiling more and more easily. Whether it was Mikey getting covered in flour while you baked cookies together, or Raph teaching you how to purl stitch, or Leo showing you how to wield a sword. You were enjoying spending more personal time with the turtles as you got to know them better.

Your toes curled where you were perched in the chair beside Donnie, glancing up at the map again. Your eyes always drawn to the blinking red dot marking the location of the lab you escaped only weeks before. The police had raided it and found it empty, which only increased your unease as to where Dr Stockman might be hiding. It already felt like a lifetime ago, that night when the turtles first found you. 

You owed them your life.

“Hey (y/n), you almost ready for afternoon training?” Leo came over, snapping you out of your thoughts. Leo leaned against the back on Donnie’s chair, earning a dismissive swat from his younger brother.

“We’ll stop after we finish up this day, Leo.” Donnie said not even taking his eyes off the screen. You giggled and got back to fishing on the beach.

You were two hours into your training session with Leo. 

“Okay, good. Now when you kick, focus on your balance. Stay firmly planted and your leg should have more power.” Leo coached you. 

Master Splinter was supervising while sipping his tea. It had barely been 5 days since your mutant abilities had manifested. But you were already making astounding progress in unlocking its potential. Leonardo had played a big part in the process, being the one who had helped you work through your fears of using your mutant reflexes, so the abilities came more easily to you when training. He trained with you every day, while Master Splinter provided guidance. Everyone was doing their best to support you through all the changes.

Casey suddenly jogged in through the entrance of the lair. 

“Guys! Just got word, the Foot are planning to rob a warehouse full of high tech weapons tonight. We gotta go intercept it.” He said waving around his cellphone.

“What? Where? Their communication frequency has been quiet since they moved those chemicals to the old Sacks building!” Donnie spun around in his chair to face Casey, you and Leo walking into the living room with Raph and Mikey close behind.

“Queens. Our contact in the Foot Clan leaked the info to us just half an hour ago.”

“Huh, that’s strange. That’s all the way on the other side of town. Aside from Sacks Tower, they’ve only really been active around the East Village and ChinaTown this past week. Maybe they changed their frequency again to throw us off track.” Donnie was quickly typing up info on his keyboard. 

“Well, regardless, we better go check it out.” Leo sighed. He wanted to keep training with you, but it would have to wait.

“Heck yeah! I’m bringin’ the steak-out snacks. Who wants Doritos?” Mikey grabbed his ratty old Jansport backpack and started shoving cans of Orange Crush into it. 

“(Y/n), you stay here and keep an eye on Donnie’s computer. The Foot might try to communicate about their raid tonight. Donnie’s program will intercept it. April will be here in about an hour, so just tell her if anything suspicious comes up.” Leo asked you.

“Right!” You said standing to attention and giving a military salute with a silly little grin on your face. 

It made Leo’s heart melt in his chest and his expression turned soft. 

“Just, stay safe, okay?” He patted you on the head then headed for the exit. 

As the rest of the boys filed out of the lair, they each stopped by you. Mikey getting a high five, you quickly cleaned Donnie’s glasses for him, and Raph, always last, ducked down for a quick hug when his brothers weren’t looking. Casey rushed ahead of them.

Master Splinter waved goodbye to his sons next to you. Once the boys had left, he informed you he was going to go meditate, and to come find him if you needed anything.

About 45 minutes later, you were casually watching YouTube videos on Donnie’s computer when a flashing red light appeared on the screen. It was indicating that Donnie’s program was intercepting a message from the Foot’s closed communication server. A message popped up on the screen, and you gasped.

“We have captured the turtles. Continue with the plan.” 

Then a video feed loaded up on the main screen. 

Your blood ran cold.

It looked like the feed from a security camera, depicting Leo, Mikey, and Donnie all locked in glass cages, restrained with thin tubes of red connected to their arms. They looked weak, they looked bad.

“What….? No… No, not this… please no…!”

Where was Raphael? He was nowhere to be seen. How did they get captured so fast…? They had barely been gone an hour!

Your mind was racing. You recognized those machines. Dr Stockman used them to take blood samples from Bebop and Rocksteady. If that was the case, there was no time to lose.

You made up your mind.

You snuck past the dojo and muttered a quick apology to Master Splinter. You knew Master Splinter wouldn’t let you go, so you kept quiet. Then you grabbed the handheld GPS device Donnie left on his work table. You entered the location on the map where the message was sent from. 

The old Sacks Tower. 

Time to move.

April arrived at the lair much later than expected. She and Casey had just finished speaking to the commissioner about police activities being leaked to the Foot. When they entered the living room, they were confused to only see Master Splinter waiting for them. The old rat was pacing and anxiously stroking his beard. 

“Splinter? Where’s (y/n)?” April asked, confused.

Splinter shook his head. 

“You don’t know where they are?” April became concerned, walking further into the lair. 

“It appears, that our greatest fears have been realized.” His expression deeply troubled. Before April could ask, she noticed what Splinter was looking at. 

Playing in a loop on Donatello’s monitor was old CCTV footage from when the turtles had been captured 10 years ago by Shredder and Mr Sacks. April breathed a sigh of relief, immediately recognizing the scene.

“Splinter, the turtles are safe. I spoke to Leo on the phone only 10 minutes ago. They’re staking out a warehouse in Queens. This is old footage.” 

Splinter’s eyes widened and looked back to the screen. His expression turned contemplative. 

“If that is so, then perhaps Miss (y/n) has made the same mistake.” He spoke gravely.

April had a look of shock. She quickly pulled out her phone and speed dialed Leo’s number.

Leo thankfully answered quickly. “Hey April, anything new?”

“Leo, is (y/n) with you?”

Leo paused a long moment and sent a look over to his brothers, getting their attention. “No…. Aren’t they at the lair?” All of his brother's eyes were suddenly on him. Leo turned the phone on speaker.

“No!! They’re gone. And there’s a video playing on Donnie’s computer. It’s a recording of you Mikey and Donnie locked up at Sacks’ estate from over 10 years ago… I think this is what (y/n) saw before they left.”

“They left?” Leo felt his heart drop into his stomach. “To go where, Sacks’ estate?” His brothers immediately started packing up their stakeout equipment to leave. 

“No I don’t think so, the sender’s location was tracked, it’s still on the screen. It says it was sent from Sack Tower in Times Square.”

Donnie came over and joined in the call, typing furiously at the keyboard on his wrist. “Sacks Tower. That’s where they were spotted smuggling those stolen chemicals into the other day…! From my notifications, it appears that the message was sent through an older Foot Clan communication frequency approximately 43 minutes ago.”

“Donnie, how long will it take (y/n) to get to Sacks Tower.”

“From my calculations, if (y/n) left the lair heading to the Sacks building about 40 minutes ago, going by subway, they should arrive in about uhhh, approximately 8 minutes.”

“And how long will it take us to get there.” Raph asked.

“From where we are now, if we manage to hitch a ride on the next nonstop train to Times Square…… about 1 and a half hours.”

“Shit!” 

Raph cursed loudly and turned away frustrated, and Mikey put his hands on his head. Donnie was typing away at the keypad on his arm, trying to find any kind of faster route and muttering about how stupid he was for not making you a shellcell.

“We don’t have a minute to waste. Let’s move out.”

That’s all they needed to hear. Everyone sprung into action and booked it for the closest subway station manhole cover.

“April, we are headed to Sacks Tower as fast as we can. And get ahold of the police commissioner again. Whoever gave us the information to come to this warehouse tonight was intentionally planted with misinformation. There was no sign of the Foot at the warehouse. …..It was most likely a diversion.”

“Right. I’ll get back to you soon.”

Leo hung up the phone and jumped off the apartment building and dove down towards the street’s manhole cover.

Leo grit his teeth.

“Hold on (y/n).”

The halls of the building were eerily empty. This place made your skin crawl. The laboratory felt all too similar to the one you had been trapped in before. But this one had clearly been abandoned for a long time. Broken glass, graffiti, turned over chairs, scattered paper. But strangely the power was still on. You didn’t dare try to use the elevator in fear of giving away your position. But you were confused as to why you had yet to see any guards. This is where the message was sent from, the turtles had to be here, right?

You climbed the steps to another floor, but paused as you creaked open the door exiting the stairwell. This floor felt like a world apart from the previous ones. It was clean.

And the lights were on.

You kept low, and hyper vigilant. Steadying your breathing like Leo had taught you, you crept into the sterile white hallway. There were glass windows along the hall looking into different labs. One held chemistry equipment, another held big bulky medical equipment that clicked and beeped. Finally, the last room at the end of the hall, a room with no windows. You had a sinking feeling in your gut, but still you crept towards the door. Slowly and quietly you pulled open the heavy door, and revealed a large lit room with a high ceiling, and there you saw it.

“Guys….!”

There along the back wall were 4 glass boxes with 3 of the turtles strung up and being drained of blood. You had found them! Seeing no one else in the room, you rushed in. 

“I’m going to get you out of here, just you wait!” You went to the first machine in front of Donnie and reached out to touch the screen-

Your hand passed right through.

“What…?” You tried to touch it again but there was nothing there.

The hologram distorted, and then the turtles disappeared. You gasped.

It was a trap.

You turned around to book it towards the exit, but the door was opening again. Bebop and Rocksteady squeezed through the small door one at a time, and blocked your exit. Then over an intercom you heard the familiar laugh that sent a shiver down your spine.

Stockman chuckled darkly. “Just how I planned it! Like catching a fly with honey. So predictable!”

You backed up slowly as Bebop and Rocksteady approached you. 

“Did you miss us, little kitty?” Rocksteady sneered.

The intercom buzzed as Stockman spoke again. “Bebop, Rocksteady, keep them occupied until I arrive. I will be there momentarily. And let’s not have a repeat of last time, please!” There was a clicking sound and the intercom went quiet.

Bebop chuckled. “Hell yeah! It’s been so long since we last played! Let’s make the most of it.” 

“That’s right! And we gotta pay you back for all the trouble you caused us! We missed you so much after you left. You wanna go first Beebs?”

“My man!” Bebop smiled at Rocksteady and clasped his hand, they both laughed. 

You tried your best to steady your breathing like Leo taught you. Your hands were trembling. But you needed a way out. Bebop and Rocksteady were not fast, if you timed it right, maybe you can get past them to the door.

Bebop approached you. You stayed still and waited. Then when he got close enough, you ran right towards him, surprising Bebop. He reached out to grab you but you slid right between his legs, then jumped up behind him and tried to run past Rocksteady before he could react. He was still too close to you and managed to grab you from behind, but you were ready for him. Just like in training, you reached up and grabbed him around his neck, and taking a deep breath, you threw all your strength forward and down and managed to flip Rocksteady onto his back- stunning him. You quickly jumped over him and ran for the door, slamming into it fast and wretched the handle to pull it open. 

Locked. (Warning for graphic depictions of torture ahead.)

“No…!” You felt a bruising grip close around your arm, and you were torn away from the door. “NO!!” You cried out as you were thrown hard onto the floor between the two oversized mutants. 

“See? Now that’s your problem. You gotta go makin’ our job harder than it needs to be!” Bebop complained. 

Rocksteady was picking himself back up, rubbing the back of his head tenderly. “Don’t let them get to ya Beebs, we’ll sort them out quick before Stockman gets here.” Bebop then reached into his pocket and pulled out an all too familiar black taser. 

Rocksteady took the taser and chuckled. “Little kitty needs a check-up!” 

You tried to get up and run, but Rocksteady stomped down hard on your left arm. There was a sickening snap and you screamed, writhing in pain. You were pinned. 

“Tsk, tsk. You know what happens when kitty gets naughty!” The taser was flicked on, all you could do was close your eyes before a strong surge of electricity was shot into your ribcage and throughout your body. You convulsed as the shocks seized you, your shoulder getting dislocated from the spasms, then collapsed back on the floor. 

“Just like good ol’ times!” Rocksteady passed the taser to Bebop.

Rocksteady laughed and removed his foot from your arm, then Bebop tased you in the ribs again. You yelped and rolled onto your stomach, tucking your very broken arm underneath you and tried to crawl away. 

“Hey, where ya goin? We’re just getting STARTED!” Rocksteady punctuated his sentence by kicking you in the stomach hard enough to throw you across the room. You hit the ground and your body rolled another few feet until you stopped on your side and curled in on yourself, the air knocked out of your lungs.

Bebop took his time strolling over to you, and grabbed you by the hair to lift you up. You coughed and gasped for air, grabbing at his hand and tried to pry his fingers off of his grip. 

“Think you can just up and leave whenever you want, do ya?” He growled in your ear, then dropped you down haphazardly to the floor. You were on your knees, buckled forward and holding your left shoulder, when suddenly Bebop’s foot stomped down on your right ankle and you heard a loud crunch. 

You shrieked. 

Exhausted and riddled with unbearable pain, you crippled to the floor. It took everything you had just to pull breath. 

“Alright, I’m back! How is our lovely patient doing?” Came the cheerful sing-song voice of Dr Stockman entering the room through the locked door, Karai tailing behind him. 

“Hey boss! Uhhh, we were just warming them up for ya! See? They can’t run away no more.” Bebop nudged your side with his foot, knocking you onto your side so Stockman could see the pain riddled on your face. You were barely conscious by this point. 

“Excellent! Bring them to me.” Stockman ordered.

Bebop picked you up by your good arm and carried you over to where Dr Stockman was walking to in the back of the room. Karai stepped in Bebop’s way for a moment, taking in your beaten appearance, and back-handed your face hard for good measure, leaving a shiny bruise and angry red gash across your cheek. That woke you up a bit. 

Just enough to retaliate.

You took a deep breath and tore your arm out of Bebop’s grasp and punched Karai in the stomach, hard enough to throw her into a large display screen next to where Stockman was standing. Stockman squawked in surprise. She rolled onto the floor, and pushed herself up onto her side. Spitting a bit of blood onto the ground and wiping away at her lip. 

You tried to stand on your good leg but you were too weak and collapsed back to the floor. Bebop and Rocksteady grabbed you by each of your arms and brought you in front of Stockman.

He was looking at you in awe, and reached out tentatively to swipe at the blood on your cheek. He rushed over to his desk, jumping a bit in excitement. He put a drop of your blood onto a slide, and observed it under his microscope.

“Ha…! HA HA…! YES!!” Stockman shouted in excitement and did a little dance. Bebop and Rocksteady exchanged a confused look and Karai stood up and walked over to Stockman, eyeing you angrily and rolling her shoulder.

“What does this mean?” She questioned him. 

“It means that the mutation was a SUCCESS!!! Those stupid turtles must have triggered it somehow. And now we can finally proceed with the plan!!!” He grabbed something off his desk and skipped over to the stairs leading up to the circular titanium base in the middle of the room. “Bring them here!!” He called over, waving his hand to Bebop and Rocksteady.

They dragged you over to Stockman, and were deposited on the round podium that sat under a large glass tube. Stockman started to pull down long rubber tubes from above, and attached large thick needles to the ends. You tried once again to crawl away with your good arm, as Bebop and Rocksteady retreated. 

But Stockman approached you from behind. In a quick jab, he stabbed the two needled tubes deep into your back. You grunted and groaned in pain, but could do nothing, collapsing on the podium. Beaten, bruised, and bleeding.

When Dr Stockman was finished, he descended the stairs and rushed over to his computer, giggling excitedly he typed in a command and the glass tube descended over you until it clicked into place at the sturdy titanium base. Locking you inside.

“They’ll be placed in suspended animation. Once the tank is completely filled with the preservation fluid, they’ll become nothing more than a convenient blood bag, supplying an endless supply of mutagen for our mutant army.” Stockman rubbed his hands together evilly.

“And what about the turtles?” Karai asked. 

“It is already too late for them to stop us. Even if they manage to get through your guards, they will be unable to free them from this tank. Once I start the filtration process, I will delete the programmed command to empty or release the containment cylinder. They won’t be able to free them without my help!” Stockman typed away quickly at his computer. 

One of the tubes connected to your back began to pull blood from your body, leading up through a small opening in the top of the cylinder then down into a canister at the base. Then from the second tube, a white milky substance full of liquid nutrients began to filter through and down into your body. It did nothing to numb the pain you felt as you laid there in a state of half consciousness. 

Suddenly, the loud banging of gunshots could be heard somewhere outside the door. 

“We’re not ready yet! Hold them back!” Stockman ordered Bebop and Rocksteady, who positioned themselves between Stockman and the door. 

The door suddenly blew wide open, and the four turtles rushed into the room, angry and weapons at the ready.

“Where’s (y/n).”

Part 7

@itsberrydreemurstuff @thecreat0r64 @eli-chris @kurlyfrasier @autisticnutcase @drenix004 @donniesgirlie @cherryp-op @foggyturtleknightangel @blackrockshooter780 @l-n-g-t @peachesdabunny @silverwatergalaxy @willy-the-witch @caeliasaida @veri-varily @xnorthstar3x 

If anyone else wants to be tagged for the next update, let me know in the comments! :]

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Treat You 3

Warnings: dark elements, noncon, violence, abuse, other dark elements. Proceed with caution. (Tall!reader)

Note: Please let me know what you think as it helps me a lot with ideas and I love interacting with you all.

Part of The Club AU

"You're useless!" Your dad slather's spit on your face as he holds himself over you, penning you in on your bed, "fucking idiot!"

You whimper as he growls and huffs his tobacco-tinged breath in your face. You wrinkle your nose and bat your lashes as tears prickle along the brims of your eyes. You shudder as he shoves himself off of you, snarling as he heaves his weight off the mattress. Another rude awakening, though for what you don't know.

"I'm sorry, da-" You begin as you sit up, only to have him spin and crack his knuckles across your cheek. You fall back and cradles your skull as it vibrates. "Ow, dad, what did I do?"

"Where the fuck are my smokes?!" He hisses.

"I dunno, I dunno," you sit up, holding out an arm to shield yourself, "you know I wouldn't touch them."

"I know you're a sneaky fucking bitch," he barks and goes to your dress, shaking it as he tears open the drawer. He scoops out the contents and throws them so the fabric scatters over the floor.

"I didn't touch them," you sniffle.

"Stop fucking lying!" He blusters as he stomps over to you, grabbing you by the front of your tee shirt, "look at you, lazy piece of shit, hiding in your room all day, doing what?!"

"Dad," you murmur.

"Bitch!" He shoves you back and you once more fall flat, biting your own tongue.

He surges around the room and there's a thunderous crash as he swipes your desk clear of its contents. You sit up and watch, helpless as he rips like a tornado through the space. He hollers and hurls until he's out of breath. He leaves you with a slam of the door. A promise in the shake of the frame. If he sees you again, it will only get worse.

You get up and switch your pajama bottoms for jeans. You retrieve the clunky laptop from the floor and tuck it into your bag. It's the only thing of value you have. It's how you make your living, typing away captions and sending the words in for pennies. You swipe up your book and the small change purse with not much in it.

You listen before you emerge from your room. You creep down and take your denim jacket and sneakers from the entryway, tiptoeing out and putting them on in the hallway. You stand straight and touch your throbbing cheek. You must look a mess. It doesn't matter, you just need to get out of there.

You get out to the street and find a bench just around the corner, sitting to think of where to go. You need to get the next project done. Tonight's the deadline to get a few extra dollars on the next deposit. You need wifi. Usually you can leech off the neighbours' but there's no way you're staying in the apartment with your father like that.

The library isn't an option. You can't even access the wifi without an account and you have fines since your father destroyed several borrowed books last month. Besides, it's too far out of the way and you have no bus fare. Maybe...

Is it worth it? You don't know if you have any change. You sift through your bag and open your change purse. A couple of quarters; seventy-five cents. Hmm, how much is a cookie? Just one of the small ones?

All you know is the cafe has wifi. You'll test your luck and see how long they put up with you. You head off, disappearing into the urban ebb and flow, happy to drown in it and forget the morning.

🍵

The cafe is busy enough for you to sneak in with the rush. You find a seat in the corner and set up there, hoping you can fade into the background as usual. You glance over at the menu, there's nothing you can afford there. You sigh as you slip the heavy laptop out of your crochet bag.

You open it and hit the power button. Nothing happens. You lean in and try again. You notice how the frame of the screen is split at the seam. Oh no. The thing's taken a beating over the years but it's usually fine. He's done it now. It's broken.

That's it. That's the only thing you got and it's just as garbage as everything else in your life. You hang your head, holding it in your hands as you stare at the table. You're numb, to hollow to feel anything. You should cry but you can't.

Your vision blurs as you sit there, frozen. What do you do? What can you do? You are totally screwed.

You don't know how long you stay like that. The world skews around you until suddenly it centers on a gentle tap on your shoulder. You pop your head up, nearly tipping the chair as you look up at the barista. It's the same one as last time. Peter, you think he said.

"Excuse me--" He begins but he gapes and stares at you.

"I'm sorry, I... I'll go," you gulp and shake your head, "I don't have money for a coffee."

You stand but he doesn't move. He's close as you reach for your laptop and he reaches to stop you from closing it.

"What happened?" He asks.

"Nothing," you lie.

"Something must've happened--"

"I must've hit it on the door when I came in," you mutter pushing until he moves his hand, snapping shut the broken screen.

"Not the computer," he says, "you?"

"What?" You frown and wince as the bruise twinges and you notice how you can see your cheek swelling from your left eye.

"Did someone hurt you?" He asks.

"Please, it doesn't matter," you turn to unhook your bag from the chair, "I'm just going to leave. I told you, I don't have any money--"

"Coffee's on the house. Or tea," he insists, "please, sit down."

"I can't."

"Why not?" He asks.

You cringe and stop. You turn to face him, looking down at his warm brown eyes, "why are you bugging me?"

"Am I?" His forehead ripples, "I wasn't meaning to."

You squeeze your lips together and a pang of guilt tweaks in your chest. You hang your head, "I'm sorry, I wasn't trying to talk back."

"Look, seems like you've had a rough morning. If you stay, I promise I won't bug you. I'll just bring you some tea and let you be."

You look away as your nose flares, tingling dangerously, "why would you do that?"

"Nice things always come around," he shrugs, "and they don't cost anything."

You nod and hide your face, "thanks."

"No problem, oh uh, one thing," he turns a palm out, "I didn't get your name."

You put your bag on the table as you touch the back of the chair. You eke out your name before you sit. He repeats it brightly, "alright, I'll be right back."

You stare out the window, refusing to look anywhere else. You're too embarrassed to let him see the tears in your eyes.

[reqxxyt]

snowed in d.r

[unedited] requests open !

pairings: daniel r. x f!reader

warnings: none (?)

masterlist

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

Usually, when someone asks another to come over at 12 am directly, it’s expected to end up in a bed. When I got the text from Daniel to come over at 12:15 am, I didn’t think much of the situation thinking it was just out of boredom. That’s how I ended up at his apartment, snowed in. He didn’t think to tell me that the chances that this would happen were high seeing as there were ice on the roads and the streets were barely walkable. 

“I can’t believe you dragged me here” My breath could be seen as I bundled myself up into what was meant to be a heated blanket he offered the first hour when the electricity was going but now was just a regular blanket after the power outage. 

“I didn’t want to be alone” he argued in disbelief that I would leave him. I only rolled my eyes, still shivering while watching the downloaded movie that was playing on his laptop on the brink of dying. We stayed underneath the same blanket for heat support meanwhile my own heart was pumping abnormally fast each time his skin would brush against my own leaving harsh goosebumps. 

An intimate scene came on screen, having the two main characters near kiss underneath the starlight night. Without realizing, I leaned closer being invested in the movie until the laptop suddenly shut off. 

“What.” I said pushing my upper body back where Daniel had been leaning against the couch now having his front touch my back. I groaned now too invested in the movie wanting it back on. Daniel chuckled beside me and I lifted myself up, allowing part of the blanket to drop on the edge of the couch. “I should just leave, what am I still doing here?”

“You wouldn’t dare” his jaw fell and I only glared in response ready to say yes, not being serious. “Fine. Let me walk you outside then” 

My heart stopped for a second, thinking if I should take back what I said not being serious about me leaving. But maybe he was tired of my complaints so I headed to the door with him tracing behind me. 

I stepped foot outside the apartment building and immediately felt snow rush to my neck, crawling downwards. I shrieked at the feeling before turning around seeing Daniel with a mischievous smile on his face. 

“Oh you’re so dead” I accepted the request and grabbed a fistful of snow before chucking it at him, plastering it straight to his face making me laugh while he coughed up some remains from his mouth. We kept throwing snow balls at each other laughing whenever one tripped just to fall right afterward. 

Heavy laughter could be heard all the way from down the street if one tried to intervene but no one would walk out while snowing this badly. As I went to pick up another snowball ready for the best throw of my life, I turned my head not being able to spot Daniel. 

“Daniel?” I called out, feeling my throat get itchy amd could already hear my voice sounding horsed. As I was about to turn to check behind me, I felt a giant body weight land on top of me only to spot the person I had been looking for laying on me. He laughed while I groaned trying to shove him away. “Get off”

“Never going to happen” he booped my nose and it finally settled the position we were laid in. My breath slowed down as he stared down at me with soft eyes, our visible breath connected with one another as my hands that were before trying to shove him, comfortably laid on my chest not sure where to lay them. 

My heart started to pick up its pace the longer we lasted in the position, wishing he would be the first to move whether that was forward or backwards. 

“Your nose is really red” was the only thing he whispered to me. Finally my consciousness came back as I shoved him to the side making a joke out of it in fear he didn’t mean anything by laying on me. 

“You owe me food for practically killing me” I said getting myself off the ground. He laughed nervously before following me to the car garage. 

“You really shouldn’t drive in this weather” his voice filled with only concern, I looked to my car before looking back at his pleading eyes and finally caved in. 

“It should’ve been at my house” was all I could say as we went back inside feeling a small relief that it was a bit warmer compared to outside. I didn’t want to mention what happened only 5 minutes ago and I doubt he wanted to either so we stayed silent the entire way back to his apartment. 

My phone had been on the brink of dying for the last hour and I refused to use it knowing I didn’t want a dead battery so there wasn;t much to do as the morning started to rise.

“Want to go to sleep?” I heard Daniel ask behind me as we entered immediately wrapping myself in the blanket. I nodded and followed him to the bedroom thanking myself for my earlier decision on wearing sweatpants and not jeans. Neither of us said anything as we lie down, on opposite sides of the bed having trouble going to sleep with the constant reminder of the cold. 

The silence was loud. I tried going to sleep but the constant teeth grinding heard from the other side was starting to get irritating. “Daniel?”

“Yeah” was barely above a whisper, we turned to each other and without much light in the room I could still see cheeks turning a pink tone. 

“You're shivering,” I said with a concerned tone pushing him the heavy weighted blanket that I had. “We can share” 

“Thanks” he said huddling up closer to me but with enough safe distance to have both of us feel comfortable. 

Hours passed by and the sun finally shined through the window, little warmth entering the bedroom as I started to wake up. I felt arms wrapped around my sides, confused I look to above to be showcased a VIP of Daniel's face. 

Immediately, my face flushed and I wanted to get out. Our arms had been intertwined, mine wrapped around his own torso meanwhile our legs were wrapped around each other. I physically couldn’t see a way out of his grasp so I stayed there knowing how grumpy he’ll be if woken up. 

Half an hour passed by and I stayed, not moving. Contemplating all my past life choices. My heart kept going fast every time I would glance at him and he would mumble something. 

“It’s not nice to stare” was the first audible response I heard before I jumped at the sound quickly getting out of his grasp, thankful he woke up but also missing the warmth that his body brought. “You okay?” He asked seeing my stumbles out of the bed. I only nodded trying to get myself to calm down. 

“Sorry if I woke you up” I quickly apologized as he slowly adjusted himself to sit up, leaning against the headboard. 

“Don’t be. I enjoyed having a personal heater. "His smile made me want to jump out the window. Not my best idea considering we were on the third floor. I sat o. The edge of the bed having my hands laid flat on both sides with my back facing him. I heard sounds of him moving before I finally felt his hand graze my own sending goosebumps up my arm. 

“What are you doing Daniel?” I asked, turning to see him still playing with my hand, tracing the outline before looking up at me with curious eyes. His gaze kept drifting downwards to my lips, debating whether to do it himself. “Daniel-”

Lips interrupted me mid sentence as I felt his lips harshly land on mine, bringing his hands on both sides of my face. With not much hesitation, my lips followed, crazing for more as I could feel my own stomach doing summer salt flips with the way my heart had no intention of slowing down. The kiss turned gentle as he had brought himself forward, now having to lean down to reach me. 

“I don’t know why I didn’t do that sooner” his voice made my heart stop for a moment, loving the way it sounded from it being early in the morning and the intense make out we just had. I stayed silent, not sure how to approach this. “Y/n? Don’t tell me I just threw our four year friendship because I couldn’t handle my emotions” 

“I’m glad you did do just that” With a small smile, his own brightened. 

[klbwriting]

Finally Home - Jason Todd Blurbs

You Have a Bad Day, Jason Makes it Better

Fandom: Red Hood

Pairing: Jason Todd x GN!reader

Warnings: none

Summary: you have the worst work day and when Jason hears about it he knows just how to make it better

Notes: I'm still obsessed with how sweet these are, please if you have any ideas and want to see them written let me know! One person has asked for a Batfamily thing so I'll maybe write that one next!

               Why the universe had decided to make this the worst day of your life you didn’t know.  First was the bus ride into Old Gotham on your way to work.  A random bump and you spilled coffee down the front of the brand-new leather jacket your boyfriend had bought you.  It was hot, it rolled to your pants, and you knew you were going to feel icky all day because of it.  You arrived at work, quickly going to a bathroom to clean up the staining as much as you could, but ran out of paper towels before you could do a decent job and were left letting it dry naturally, probably making these pants permanently damaged.  Then right before you were supposed to leave for lunch your laptop gave you the blue screen of death and you called IT only to be told to come down and wait in their office and they would assist you.  That was a two hour wait and you missed lunch.  The only seeming bright point to that horrendous wait was the texts you were exchanging with Jason. 

What’s wrong sweetthing?

Everything! Got coffee on the jacket you just got me, on my pants, then I couldn’t get them cleaned up so I’ll probably have to toss them, and now I’m just waiting for them to give me a new laptop and they told me not to go anywhere and I’m starving

That is so shitty, don’t worry when you get home I’ll make it all better, love ya babe

Love you too Jaybird

               The ride home wasn’t much better, you were seated next to someone who decided they wanted to shower in their perfume, and you were having trouble breathing.  You got off the bus and in between the block between your bus stop and your apartment you stepped in something you hoped was just dog crap.  You couldn’t wait to get home and see Jason, but when you entered your shared apartment he wasn’t there.  You sighed.  Perfect, bet Bruce or Dick called needing help with something.  You understood, the protection of innocents and all, but today you were just so worn down from the day you wanted your boyfriend to be there, wrap his arms around you, and tell you everything was alright now.  You were home.  You headed to the laundry room, stripping down and putting your work clothes in the wash, scrubbing your shoes in the sink, and throwing them in the dryer before going to your bathroom to take the longest, hottest shower possible. 

               By the time you got out of the shower you were feeling a little better, dressing in comfy sweats and one of Jason’s shirts, inhaling the scent of him and letting that bring you some more comfort.  You heard something in the living room, not sure if Jason was home you did what he said.  ‘If you don’t know who’s in our place you grab one of my guns and then you find out’ he told you.  You grabbed the small gun that was under the bathroom sink and headed into the living room, held ready but finger off the trigger just like Jason taught you. 

               “Hey sweetness, its just me, but nice form,” Jason said, unloading food from a grocery bag on the kitchen table.  You let out a sigh of relief, setting the gun down on the nearby end table and going over to him.  He accepted your hug with a big one of his own, his arms finally making you feel safe and completely at home.  “Go settle on the couch, I already got your show ready to stream, I’m making your favorite for dinner and I even got us some cake for dessert, everything you like to turn this shitty day around right?”

               “You are truly a god among men Jason Todd,” you said, kissing him softly.  He chuckled and patted your rear as you turned to go to the living room.

               “Tell all my other partners that,” he teased, making you stick your tongue out at him as you got comfy and turned on your show.  You half watched, you had seen these episodes dozens of times, mostly watching Jason as he danced around the kitchen, you could hear his phone playing music he liked, volume low so not to disturb you.  You smiled as he worked, every once in awhile he would catch your eye and wink at you, maybe blow a kiss.  You know, for being a lethal killer at night he was an absolute sweetheart at home.  You settled back to watching your show, the smells of his fantastic cooking taking up the room.

               “Hey dinner’s ready, want to eat in there?” he asked.  “Or do you want to rant about your day at the table?”  You thought about it and since right now he had made you forget about all the bad shit that day you patted the couch.

               “I’ve already forgotten, did I have a bad day?” you asked.  He plated up dinner and brought it over, setting in on the coffee table and giving you another kiss.  “You’re here now, in my eyes that makes my day perfect.”

[michelleleewise]

Sorry this had taken me a minute, I was waiting for inspiration to strike, then my life got blah! But here we are......based in this prompt, I did tweak things a liiiittle bit... I hope thats ok!!! I hope you like it!!!!

=====≈==========≈===================

Life Lessons

Pairing: Loki x reader

Warnings: innuendos, flirting, mild swearing, groping.

Summary: with your last year of college coming to an end, determined to be the first in your family to graduate, you prepare for finals, when your English teacher throws a wrench in your plans.

*college au, Loki is captain of the soccer team and Thor is captain of the football team (of course 😁)

Part one-

You made your way down the halls to your last class of the day, English literature. It was the one class you dreaded. You loved the class, your teacher Mr. Banner was by far your favorite, it was your classmates, well one in particular who seemed to enjoy making your life miserable.

You bolted in, sitting at your desk as you pulled out your laptop, preparing to take notes "Well well, there you are, i haven't seen you in the stands during practice, I thought you may have been avoiding me." He said, propping himself on your desk. "Loki, could you get your ass off my desk please?" You asked, looking up at him, his green eyes bright as ever "I thought you liked my ass, you seemed to when I see you at practice." He smirked making you roll your eyes.

"Maybe I just like soccer, the world doesn't revolve around you and your ego." You said looking back to you laptop. "Ouch, that hurts darling." He said grabbing his chest. You did your best to ignore him, you admittedly had had a crush on him for awhile, who wouldn't, with his long black hair, and chiseled features he could have any girl in school he wanted, and he usually did.

"My laufeyson, take your seat." You heard Mr. Banner as Loki jumped up practically running to his seat. "Morning class, I know you are all prepared for finals, hopefully." He smiled as the class laughed "but, I'm going to change things up a bit. I'm going to pair you off into teams. And I want you to do an analysis of any of Shakespeare's works. You will create a presentation on its significance to modern times, and the importance of the writing, you will have three weeks to complete it and then you will present it to the class." He said pulling out a piece of paper. "As I call your names, find your partner and start discussing which work you would like to do." He said.

You waited anxiously, looking around you would love to be paired with Steve, be was always studious. Or wanda, you knew she always recieved top marks. "And finally Ms y/l/n, you'll be paired with Mr laufeyson. Find your partners and get started." He said sitting behind his desk as you looked at Loki, leaned back in his chair smirking at you. "Shit." You muttered, going up to Mr. Banners desk.

"I'm sorry sir, but is there any way I can get another partner?" You asked as he looked up at you. "And what's wrong with Mr. Laufeyson? You two seem to get along fine." He said, looking back seeing Loki watching you "Sir, Loki is an egotistical jerk, and I would rather work alone then with him, please I'll do anything." You pleaded "y/n, you need to learn to work with people who you may not get along with, it's part of life. I suggest you suck it up and try to get along with him, this project is a large part of your grade." He said "yeah, I know." You sighed, heading back to your desk as Loki gestured to the desk next to him with a smile. "This is going to be a long three weeks." You sighed, grabbing your things.

"So, what were you thinking about doing?" You asked him sitting down. "Well, there's lots of things I was thinking about doing." He purred wiggling his eyebrows "do you have to be a pig all the time?" You asked as he laughed "why don't you harass your girlfriend." You huffed opening your laptop "I don't have one." He said looking at you "Well that's surprising." You said pulling up a reading list of Shakespeare's works. "I have several. I'm a bit.....insatiable." He smirked "eeww, could you not." you said glaring at him. "Can we just get this over with please?" You sighed as he smiled.

You spent the rest of class deciding to do Romeo and juliet, slightly cliche, but popular nonetheless. As the bell sounded you grabbed your things and quickly left class without looking back. "Y/n...y/n wait!" Loki yelled making you stop. "What Loki, I want to go home." You said crossing your arms. "D..did you want to come by practice? We can go over the assignment after?" He asked slipping on his jacket "no I don't think so, I'm just gonna.." you started "Looooki, baby there you are." You heard a girl yell behind him as she ran towards you both.

"Hey Stacy, what are you up to?" He asked as she leaned up, pressing her lips to his as you looked away. "I came to find you, I wanted to walk you to practice." She said, running her hands up his chest. "Whose this?" She asked looking at you "this is y/n, she's in my English class, we were paired up on a project." He said looking at you. "And i was just leaving so.." you said as she ignored you "come on loki, let's go." He said grabbing his arm dragging him off.

You shook your head as you turned to leave, missing the glance he gave you as he was pulled away. This was better you thought, you were not about to be another knotch in his bed post. You made it to your car, throwing your bag in you climbed in. You looked up seeing the soccer field, your eyes immediately finding him. His hair pulled back into a bun, his uniform showing of his muscular frame.

You sat staring as he jogged around the field, until that girl, Stacy, ran towards him jumping up as he caught her kissing her. "Uugh...." you sighed, starting your car as there was a knock on the window making you scream. "Thor, what the actual hell!" You yelled rolling your window down. "Sorry y/n, I was just wondering if I could catch a ride, my brother had practice so he needs the car." He said smiling. "You don't have practice." You asked. "Nope, no football today, coach wants us to "take a day" Whatever that means." He air quoted making you laugh. "Sure, jump in." You said smiling.

You dropped Thor off, making your way home, if you call the closet of an apartment home. You plopped on the couch, scrolling through your phone as you opened Instagram. You followed Thor so occasionally pics of Loki would pop up if he was tagged, this time it was him and that Stacy girl, it looked like she had taken a selfie in the car as his face was hidden in her neck and her hand was on her breast as she sat on his lap. Scrolling down, seeing the caption "this girl gettin lucky tonight" with a winky face, and she apparently tagged eveyone be knew.

You rolled your eyes and tossed your phone aside before making your way to bed, preparing for the longest three weeks of your life...

💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚

If I missed tagging anyone let me know please!!

@lokisninerealms @lokiprompts @high-functioning-lokipath @vbecker10 @lonadane @buttercupbestie @lulubelle814 @tjellisworld @sinsandguilt

[messers-moony]

SONG ONE: WELCOME TO NEW YORK | T.D

Pairing: Husband!Tim Drake-Wayne X Wife!Reader

Summary: Tim plans a surprise trip to New York City, its better than he could've ever imagined.

Word Count: 1.4K

A/N: Apart of my new series! The Track list of 1989 (Taylor’s Version) used for imagines of Tim Drake! The master list for this series should be posted soon!

Her hands shook. The ground beneath her trembled due to turbulence. A steady weight of polyester was around her waist, keeping her in place. The plastic tray in front of her stumbled slightly. Her computer screen was trembling slightly. 

Beside her, the sound of clicking was like white noise. He hadn’t stopped since they boarded the jet an hour ago. Star Labs in Central City had invented a new device that Wayne Enterprises was interested in partnering with. Tim had insisted that they fly to Star Labs the next day to discuss details. 

She had rolled her eyes but woke up at eight in the morning anyway. 

The computer in front of her held documents for the fundraising event in Park Row. Jason had suggested they do something small for the kids living in the area. Neither of them had protested. Y/n had begun planning different things to bring up to Jason when they landed in Gotham. It was small things like libraries, small housing units, better convenience stores, and possibly, as a more extensive improvement, a school. 

Her heart was whole. She closed the laptop and let it click shut. Her hands loosened the seatbelt slightly, and leaned her head on Tim’s shoulder. He recognized the motion by turning to kiss her hair. She hummed and closed her eyes, lulled asleep by the plane's rumbling. 

It didn’t feel much longer before Tim shook her awake, “Wake up, we’re here.”

“Mmmm,” She hummed. 

He chuckled, “Come on, wake up.”

Y/n stretched off his shoulder and rubbed her eyes. The laptop was gone in front of her, and her bag was zipped up in front of her. The sun was setting outside the jet window. She went to grab her bag before a hand stopped her, “You won’t need that, come on.”

“What do you mean?”

“Trust me?” 

His smile could’ve stopped the earth from turning. It was close-lipped, and yet it made her heart flutter every time. Tim’s face was soft and kind. It always had been, even through his worst moments. He held himself together like an artist molding clay. He carefully carved every piece of himself together and showed only what he wanted to let others see. 

She could see through it where a tiny mark of imperfection covered every smooth mark. Where someone had molded it too many times, and it became too tender. Where the colors had changed into different ones from trying to cover up past mistakes. 

Tim walked out of the seat and held his hand out for her. She placed her hand in his cold, soft one and allowed him to lead her. He led her to the exit and climbed down the stairs. She followed behind. The air was dry, frigid, and cold. Thankfully, she had a hoodie, sweatpants, and beanie from when they got onto the plane. The dress and heels had been uncomfortable. 

He was dressed similarly. He was wearing an old Bludhaven University sweatshirt stolen from Dick. His sweatpants were an old pair of his, the faded Gotham Academy logo on the top left of the pant leg. Jason’s hand me down converse on his feet and almost falling apart. He wouldn’t throw them away. His grey beanie from Bruce when he had gotten cold as Robin. Yet on his left hand, on his ring finger, held his most prized possession. His wedding ring with the girl he’d love until he died, and he would make sure it wouldn’t be anytime soon. 

“Tim, this is not Gotham.”

He rolled his eyes, “Brilliant observation, Einstein.”

“Where are we?”

“New York!” He exclaimed happily, eyes sparkling, “I thought maybe we could use the night and day tomorrow just to relax.”

“There’s so much stuff to do during December in New York!” Tim continued, “We could go see the Rockefeller Christmas tree, or we could go see the Dukes Heights Holiday lights, or visit the Bank of America Winter Village at Bryant Park-“

She placed her freezing hands on his cheeks, “It sounds lovely, Tim. Thank you.”

He was putty in her hands, “You’re welcome, sweetheart.”

Tim brushed a piece of hair from her face. His hand lingered behind her ear, and he gently pulled her closer. His lips brushed hers before pulling her closer. Y/n hummed and kissed him back. Tim’s lips were soft and so gentle. They always had a faint taste of mint from his chapstick. He pulled away, “What’re we doing wasting our time up here? Come on, we gotta go.”

Y/n chuckled, and that’s when she realized how far up they were. The jet had landed on a helipad far up in the air. She looked at the view and saw the Empire State Building and the smaller buildings beneath them. Under her feet was an illuminating sign that read Wayne Enterprises. Tim’s hand reached for hers before pulling them down the stairs and into the elevator. 

He pulled her to his chest. Her ear rested over his heartbeat. His hand rubbed her back and the other on her waist while they descended the building. It took minutes because people stopped to enter and exit through their trip to the bottom. Some made small talk with Tim, surprised to see him in the New York office. He had smiled politely and contributed to the small talk. 

They reached the bottom and walked out of the elevator to the outside of the building. There was snow fluttering around them. Some landed on their beanies and the tops of their shoulders. Their hands stayed connected as they walked through the city together. Christmas lights lit up the city at almost every corner, and the ground was covered in little specks of white. 

The night could only be described as magical. They roamed through the city. For once, having nothing on the agenda, just spending time with each other. No interruptions, no patrol, no training, and no people waiting to kill them. It was a smooth night. She could feel her eyes sometimes and see the flash of cameras, but it didn’t bother her this time. She felt proud. 

Because, yes, she was spending the day with her husband in New York City, and nothing could stop that. Not nasty paparazzi, not fangirled crushing on her husband, not the girls that giggled at her as they passed, and definitely not the older adults that glared as they talked too loud. Her heart was content. 

Tim swore he had never had so much fun in his life since chasing Robin and Batman around in the dirtiest parts of Gotham. There was nothing that made his heart feel as complete as the heavy camera in his hands watching Batman kick butt and Robins quips. But right here, right now, his heart felt even more full. His wife a steady weight beside him, her laugh boisterous and beautiful, the flecks of snow in her hair, the tip of her nose turning red. He wanted to marry her all over again. 

They spent the night in absolute bliss. The lights illuminated her face, and he wished he had his camera. However, he knew this memory was too precious to keep in a photograph. He loved photography, but he knew its limits. It could capture a moment, but it could never capture the absolute love in this moment. 

He saw something in the corner of his eyes. His heart sped up with the meaning of it. Purposefully, he led her that way, and she stumbled when he stopped, “Tim, why’d you stop?”

“Look up.”

Her face turned red, “You’re kidding.”

“I’m not,” Tim wished he could bottle the feeling up and keep it for whenever he wanted, “I love you, and I want to kiss you under the mistletoe.”

“Timothy,” Y/n scolded playfully, “You’re a dork.”

He grinned, “Your dork.”

“Keep tellin’ yourself that.” She quipped before pecking his lips. 

Tim watched her pull away, “Nope, not enough.”

He pulled her back tightly. His lips planted on hers, and he let himself have this moment. They weren’t one for public displays of affection, but he wanted this. He wanted it so bad. His tongue swiped her bottom lip, and she allowed it. His body went warm and soft. He could stay in this city forever. He’d leave Gotham forever if it meant feeling this every day. If it meant he wouldn’t have to feel the stress, the pressure, the anxiety. He’d do it in a heartbeat. 

They pulled apart. Her cheeks flushed, her lips swollen, and her eyes sparkling. His pupils were blown large, lips slightly parted, and his nose pink. At that moment, they felt a flash of light. Tim chuckled, and she rolled her eyes playfully. He turned to the man with the camera, “How much will it cost to get that picture emailed?”

[elliesflower]

i saw you in a dream [4]

chapter 3 here

summary; you finally take your anticipated final

chapter; 4/? 2.6k words

cw (per chapter); recreational marijuana usage, language

an; *peaks out from behind the curtain* hey lol

thank y'all so much for bearing with me, i know it's been over a month since the last chapter and i'm gonna try real hard not to let that happen again. just a genuine, sincere thank you to every single one of you who have reblogged or liked this story, given kudos on AO3, messaged me, sent anonymous asks, all of it. you all make my heart swell, thank you for supporting my works and loving this story. i love you all endlessly <3

okay enough sappy syd, on to the story! (as always, find it on AO3 here)

Okay. You have her number now. That was the easy part, and you didn’t even have to work for it. She just gave it to you. Which must mean she wants you to have it…right? There’s no other logical explanation as to why she’d email you if she didn't care. But now, the hard part was actually formulating a response—which you couldn’t do if you just stared at the screen. 

And, there was another facet—you actually had to attend your final before you could let Ellie know how it went. But, should you respond anyways, just to let her know you got the email? For fucks sake, its the twenty-first century, of course she knows you got her email. But maybe, you should just reply anyway, and let her know you were planning on texting her? Your finger hesitated over the touchpad of your computer, cursor tauntingly hovering over the reply button at the top of the screen.

God, maybe-kinda-sorta liking someone is annoying.

“Don’t you have a final to go to?” Dina suddenly raised her voice, snapping you out of your thoughts. You glanced up at the time on your computer and realized you were running a bit behind. 

“Shit,” you mumbled under your breath, quickly closing your laptop and rising from your seat. The music stopped abruptly as you turned around to face Dina, who was now watching videos on her phone. Even at the risk of being late, you had to tell her about the message. 

“Dee, you’ll never guess who just emailed me,” you said, words coming out rushed and giddy. She sat up quickly at your tone, leaning over the railing of her bunk to give you her full attention. 

“Oh my god--wait, let me guess,” she replied excitedly. “The Queen of Sheba?!”

You resisted the urge to step forward and flick her in the forehead, instead opting to give her the finger.

“Ellie fucking Williams,” you beamed, unable to contain yourself. Just the sound of her name rolling off your tongue filled you with joy, curling up like a ball in the pit of your stomach. It was literally already impossible to get her off your mind, and it sure doesn’t help that all you’ll be able to think about for the foreseeable future will be that email—when to text her, what to text her, if you should text her.

Dina’s mouth fell open as she gave you an amused look. 

“I knew it, I knew she’d be the first one to say something,” she said confidently, leaning back onto her elbow. “Come on, admit it. I was right.” 

You rolled your eyes, turning back to your desk to grab your wallet and keys to put in your backpack.

“What, you have absolutely no faith in me?” You feigned shock, and Dina shrugged at you. “I’m sure she just wanted me to let her know how my final goes for proof of her extra credit.” 

“Well, what exactly did she say?”

“She said to let her know how my final goes,” you said nonchalantly, turning back to face her. “And she also gave me her number and said I can text her if that’s easier.” The last part came out rushed, again. Dina’s hand flew over her mouth, muffling a scream. 

“For fucks sake, it’s a good thing you’re not a journalism major, always burying the lead!” She exclaimed, throwing her blanket off and climbing down the small ladder at the end of her bunk, landing on the floor with a soft thud. “That’s amazing! So what did you text her?”

“Nothing, yet,” you admitted, sitting back down at your desk to gather your sheet music for your final. You heard Dina plop into her own chair across the room. “She literally emailed me like five minutes ago.”

“Okay, so what?” Dina pressed. 

“So, I don’t wanna seem desperate!” You whined, spinning around to face her again. The sheet music creased between your fingers as you gripped it in your sweaty hands. 

“Dude, she made the first move, I’d hardly call you the desperate one,” she replied, and you had to let out a laugh. 

“Well I’d hardly call it ‘making a move,’” you scoffed, turning back to your desk to grab a pen. “She probably just wants me to confirm I did well on my lesson so she actually gets her extra credit.” In your haste to grab the pen, you knocked the sour pineapple pre-roll off your desk, and it flew across the room.

“Yeah, but email works just fine for confirmation. She didn’t have to give you her number,” she pointed out, bending forward to snatch the pre-roll off the ground. “And she definitely didn’t have to give you this expensive-looking pre-roll—” she popped open the cap and inhaled the deep, earthy scent. “—you don’t give perfectly good weed out to just anybody, you know?”

Your shoulders slumped in defeat, a smile still playing on your lips. In your mind, you knew Dina was most likely right. But your insecurities definitely got the best of you when it came to this sort of thing, not letting you fully believe Ellie may just be kind of into you too.

“Maybe you’re right,” you admitted reluctantly, standing up to pack away the papers into your guitar case. 

“So, what are you waiting for? Text her now!” Dina exclaimed, sliding the pre-roll out of the tube. 

“Okay, I take it back, you were wrong,” you held your hand out to her and beckoned, silently asking her to hand you the joint. “I’ll text her after I don’t completely fuck up my final.”

“You’re gonna do great,” Dina rolled her eyes playfully, pulling a lighter out of her back pocket. “And you’ll do even better if you share this pre-roll with me before you leave.” 

She left you no time to respond before she was lighting the tip and opening the window. 

*********

Okay, maybe smoking half a joint before taking a really important final wasn’t the best idea. 

In theory, you feel like you had done okay. After practically running to make it to the music building on time, you still felt like a bundle of nerves despite the high—heart racing, palms sweating, brain fog—even weed couldn’t suppress the fact that you were an anxious test taker. 

It felt like everything Ellie had taught you was slowly fading away. Though, you found that if you just closed your eyes and pictured her sitting there, strumming her guitar with those perfect fingers and that goofy sideways grin and that quiet breathy singing you could…fuck, what were you doing again?

“So that’s it?” You asked when you were done, palm laying flat against the strings on your guitar. Your teacher sat in a small folding chair across from you, one leg crossed as he took notes in a small notebook. He briefly glanced at you from above his glasses before looking back down. 

“Yes. I’ll have your final score posted online by the end of day,” he said dismissively, continuing to write. As you stood, you tried to nonchalantly crane your neck to get a glimpse of what he was writing, but damn him and his tiny, scribbly handwriting.

“Okay, uh, thanks for that, and for a great semester,” you smiled weakly. Sure, they say flattery will get you nowhere, but it’s worth a shot, right? You received nothing but a tight-lipped smile in return, and he couldn’t be bothered to glance your way again. 

Dick. 

You packed away your things hastily and left without another word, wanting to get as far away from your professor and this goddamned class as possible. With a deep breath, you took your guitar off your shoulder, sliding down the wall at the end of the main hallway. You crossed your legs and pulled out your phone, opening your email and re-reading Ellie’s message over.

Did you tell her what time your final was at? Surely she’d think you’re obsessed if you took less than an entirety of five whole minutes to text her after it was over. But she actually needs to know how you did for her extra credit, so, you’d actually be doing her a favor by texting her as quickly as possible. You know, so she gets her extra credit…quicker. Or something like that. 

Dina, SOS

Obviously, you weren’t going to be able to craft a message to Ellie on your own. 

oh no, did you bomb your final?

i’ll never be able to find a roommate as cool as you if you fail out

Very funny.

First of all, fuck you. Second, what do I say to Ellie? Should I text her? Email her?

Dina will know what to say. 

text her, definitely

maybe something like “hey, just finished my final, wanna bang?”

then say “oops i meant hang”

Okay, never mind.

You have been absolutely no help at all.

You rolled your eyes at her response:

love you roomie &lt;3

Alright, so Dina helping you was out of the question. Looks like you’ll just have to formulate a response all on your own, of which the thought was looming over your head already. Closing your eyes, you leaned your head against the wall, sighing. 

“This is so stupid,” you mumbled quietly to yourself. 

“Final was that bad, huh?” 

You nearly broke your neck looking up to the sound of the familiar voice. 

“Ellie,” your voice broke pathetically with your surprise, and before you could even have another thought, she was sliding down the wall next to you. You could smell her, that same woody aroma melding into the ever-present trace of weed. Holy fuck, were you dreaming?

You looked to your left and had to stop yourself from consuming every part of her at once, in fear of losing all inhibition. You started with her face, those iridescent jade eyes that could even look pretty in the shitty fluorescent hallway lighting, halfway covered by heavy lids and long eyelashes; the freckles that littered constellations across her face, that fucking crooked smile. It had to be a dream. 

“What are you doing here?” You found yourself saying for lack of a better response. It didn’t seem to phase her though, as she smiled just a little bit higher on one side and slid her backpack into her lap. You watched her tattooed arm flex, her bracelets tinging together softly as she reached into the open zipper and pulled out a few papers. She was so close, you noted the way she practically felt like a furnace next to you, despite the chill outside.

“Just turning in my extra credit. Last minute as always,” she shook the papers in her hand for emphasis. Right—she was a Music minor. A completely valid reason to be in the music building at the same time as you, during finals week. She obviously didn’t come here just to see you, that would be ridiculous. “Don’t tell me my tutoring was that bad?”

“Oh, no, not at all!” You exclaimed, sitting up just a bit higher. “My final actually went pretty well, I was just texting my friend. She’s…thinking about getting back together with her ex.” Yikes. If Dina were here she may have slapped you for that one. 

“Yikes,” Ellie mirrored your thoughts, and maybe it was just the fact that she seemed a little high too, but she didn’t seem to notice your cover-up. “I know plenty about those toxic exes.” She smirked, putting the papers back into her bag before zipping it closed. Briefly, you wondered what exactly she knew about them—part of you wanted to ask her, but you definitely weren’t to that stage yet. For fucks sake, you were barely acquaintances at this point.

“Uh, did you need me to sign one of those papers for you or something? For proof of the tutoring or whatnot?” You pointed lamely at her backpack. It was like your brain and your body were fighting over what to do or say when you’re around her. 

“Nah,” she shook her head, fidgeting with one of her bracelets. “I have enough signatures. I’m just glad your final went well, and that I could help.” Ellie looked up at you now, that goofy grin slowly spreading back on her face. Your heart felt like it was about to jump out of your throat. 

“Oh, okay, yeah,” you smiled back, looking down at your phone in your hands. She was so close, you could almost feel the fabric of her hoodie against your arm, you wanted to feel the fabric of her hoodie against your arm, oh god— “Well, you were a great teacher. I couldn’t have done it without you.” 

Ellie leaned into you slightly, and you felt like you might light on fire. 

“I’m glad I could help,” she said softly, before sitting up just as quickly as she had leaned in. Swiftly, she grabbed her back and stood up. You watched her legs extend and her shirt ride up just slightly over the top of her jeans, revealing a small expanse of her skin. You had to look away, you had to, or she might see the stars in your eyes. 

“You leaving?” She asked, shrugging her backpack over one shoulder while extending her other arm. You looked up at her hand and it seemed like there was no other answer except yes. 

Her long fingers nearly enveloped your hand as she gripped, pulling you up with seemingly no effort. Her hands were almost exactly how you’d imagined them—warm, the skin on the back of her hand soft in comparison to the rough, calloused pads of her fingers. You yearned to feel them again, in your hand, on your face, anywhere. Whatever she would give you. 

Ellie dipped down quickly to grab your guitar case before you could protest, and it felt like when you were standing in her doorway, stomach doing backflips and full of nervous excitement. 

“I know I already said it, but I’m really glad that I was able to help you with your final. I’m sure you did great,” she said, and her confidence slipped, just a little. She passed your guitar between the two of you and you took it, careful to avoid the touch of her hand. “And I’m really glad I ran into you just now. It was good to see you.”

Yeah, this had to be a dream. Was that…a blush creeping up her neck? Oh no, stop looking at her neck. 

“Me too,” you said stupidly, but it earned you another grin nonetheless. “To both those things…you know, you helping me with my final, seeing you now…” You trailed off, running a hand through your hair nervously. 

“Hey, my roommate set up this…open mic thing as part of her final,” Ellie started, her casual tone of voice a contradiction to the nervous shuffling of her feet. “I’m gonna be performing a song and…I was wondering if you’d maybe wanna stop by. There’ll be other acts to watch too! Some cool poetry, other musicians, stuff like that. Oh, and free food, of course,” she began to ramble a bit, adjusting her backpack higher on her shoulder, scratching lightly at the back of her hand.

Oh. Oh. Holy shit. She was inviting you to something and playing it off like she wasn’t. 

“Yes, I-I’d love to!” You exclaimed, maybe just a bit over the top. You had to respond before she changed her mind or something. That earned you a smile though, and it was almost worth the embarrassment. 

“Cool, cool,” she replied. “It starts at seven on Friday, in the black box theater downstairs.” 

“I’ll be there, for sure,” you said, your knees feeling weak.

“Great. See you then,” Ellie gave you one last smile, and a small wave before turning and disappearing around the corner. 

You may or may not have pinched your arm just to make sure this was in fact, real life.

chapter 5 here

[hopelesslys-world]

50 SHADES OF FUCKED UP | CH.4

TRIGGER WARNINGS!: TOXIC RELATIONSHIP, reader is kind of a bimbo, heavily detailed smut, basically porn, loss of virginity, harsh language, anger issues, stalking, obsession, jealousy, controlling behaviour, DOM-SUB themes, BDSM Expand considered to be portrayed with incorrect/poor etiquette, emotional abuse, physical abuse, sexual abuse/assault, statutory rape.

EXTRAS: Vomiting, alcohol !

Tell me if I missed anything...( As you can see most of the warnings will appear in future chapters. )

I apologize for any grammar mistakes...

Y/L/N: Your Last Name

Y/N/N: Your Nickname

Y/M/N: Your Middle Name

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*𝙔𝙊𝙐𝙍 𝙋𝙊𝙑*

┅┅

𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊, 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐃 concrete of the garage with its bleak fluorescent light, I speed towards Bella's car getting inside as if someone was chasing me.

What was I thinking? Unbidden and unwelcome incoming tears make my eyes water.

Why am I crying? I sink to the ground, angry at myself for this senseless reaction. I hide my face in my hands and wipe a stray tear off my cheek.

That is so embarrassing. I embarrassed myself out there thinking that we were going to kiss. I'm so stupid, being sad of something I never had. How ridiculous. Something that never was – my dashed hopes, dashed dreams, and my soured expectations.

I have never been on the receiving end of rejection. Okay… so I was always one of the last to be picked for basketball or volleyball – but I understood that – running and doing something else at the same time like bouncing or throwing a ball is not my thing. I am a serious liability in any sporting field.

Romantically, though, I’ve never put myself out there, ever. A lifetime of insecurity – I’m too pale, too skinny, too scruffy, uncoordinated, my long list of faults goes on. So I have always been the one to rebuff any would be admirers. There was that guy in my chemistry class who liked me, but no one has ever sparked my interest – no one except Christian damn Grey.

Maybe I should be kinder to the likes of Paul Clayton and José Rodriguez, though I’m sure neither of them have been found like me inside their car in a dark parking lot.

I should go home, do my studying. Forget about him and stop all this self-pitying, crap!!!

I take a deep, steadying breath and start the engine. I will not think of him again. I can just chalk this incident up to experience and concentrate on my exams.

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Bella is sitting at the dining table at her laptop when I arrive. Her welcoming smile fades when she sees me.

“Y/N/N what’s wrong?”

Oh no… not the Isabella Clark Inquisition. I shake my head at her in a back-off now Bella way – but I might as well be dealing with a blind, deaf mute.

“You’ve been crying,” she has an exceptional gift for stating the damned obvious sometimes. “What did that bastard do to you?” she growls, and her face – jeez, she’s scary.

“Nothing Bella.” That’s actually the problem. The thought brings a wry smile to my face.

“Then why have you been crying? You never cry,” she says, her voice softening. She stands, her green eyes brimming with concern. She puts her arms around me and hugs me.

I need to say something just to get her to back off. “I was nearly knocked over by a cyclist.” It’s the best that I can do, but it distracts her momentarily from… him.

“Jeez Y/N/N – are you okay? Were you hurt?” She holds me at arm’s length and does a quick visual check-up on me.

“No. Christian saved me,” I whisper. “But I was quite shaken.”

“I’m not surprised. How was coffee? I know you hate coffee.”

“I had tea. It was fine, nothing to report really. I don’t know why he asked me.”

“He likes you Y/N/N.” She drops her arms.

“Not anymore. I won’t be seeing him again.” Yes, I manage to sound matter of fact.

“Oh?”

Shit. She’s intrigued. I head into the kitchen so that she can’t see my face.

“Yeah… he’s a little out of my league Bella,” I say as dryly as I can manage.

“What do you mean?”

“Oh Bella, it’s obvious.” I whirl round and face her as she stands in the kitchen doorway.

“Not to me,” she says. “Okay, he’s got more money than you, but then he has more money than most people in America!”

“Bella he’s– ” I shrug.

“Y/N! For heaven’s sake – how many times must I tell you? You’re a total babe,” she interrupts me. She’s off on this tirade again.

“Bella, please. I need to study.” I cut her short. She frowns.

“Do you want to see the article? It’s finished. José took some great pictures.”

Do I need a visual reminder of the beautiful Christian I-don’t-want-you Grey?

“Sure,” I magic a smile on to my face and stroll over to the laptop. And there he is, staring at me in black and white, staring at me and finding me lacking.

I pretend to read the article, all the time meeting his steady gray gaze, searching the photo for some clue as to why he’s not the man for me – his own words to me. And it’s suddenly, blindingly obvious. He’s too gloriously good-looking. We are poles apart and from two very different worlds. His words make sense. He’s not the man for me.

This is what he meant, and it makes his rejection easier to accept… almost. I can live with this. I understand.

“Very good Bella,” I manage. “I’m going to study.” I am not going to think about him again for now, I vow to myself, and opening my revision notes, I start to read.

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It’s only when I’m in bed, trying to sleep, that I allow my thoughts to drift through my strange morning. I keep coming back to the ‘I don’t do the girlfriend thing’ quote, and I’m angry that I didn’t pounce on this information sooner, when I was in his arms mentally begging him with every fiber of my being to kiss me. He’d said it there and then. He didn’t want me as a girlfriend. I turn on to my side.

Idly, I wonder if perhaps he’s celibate? I close my eyes and begin to drift. Maybe he’s saving himself.

Well not for you, my sleepy subconscious has a final swipe at me before unleashing itself on my dreams.

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I put my pen down. Finished. My final exam is over. I feel the Cheshire cat grin spread over my face.

It’s Friday, and we'll be celebrating tonight, really celebrating. I might even get drunk! I’ve never been drunk before. I glance across the sports hall at Bella, and she’s still scribbling furiously, five minutes to the end. This is it, the end of my academic career.

I shall never have to sit in rows of anxious, isolated students again. Inside I’m doing graceful cartwheels around my head, knowing full well that’s the only place I can do graceful cartwheels.

Bella stops writing and puts her pen down. She glances across at me, and I catch her sly smile too.

We head back to our apartment together in her Mercedes, refusing to discuss our final paper. Bella is more concerned about what she’s going to wear to the bar this evening. I am busily fishing around in my purse for my keys.

“Y/N/N, there’s a package for you.” Bella is standing on the steps up to the front door holding a brown paper parcel. Odd. I haven’t ordered anything from Amazon recently. Bella gives me the parcel and takes my keys to open the front door.

It’s addressed to Miss Y/N Y/L/N. There’s no sender’s address or name. Perhaps it’s from my mom or Ray.

“It’s probably from my mom or dad.”

“Open it!” Bella is excited as she heads into the kitchen for our ‘Exams are finished celebration Champagne’.

I open the parcel, and inside I find a half leather box containing three seemingly identical old cloth-covered books in mint condition and a plain white card. Written on one side, in black ink in neat cursive handwriting, is:

Why didn't you tell me there was danger? Why didn't you warn me?

Ladies know what to guard against, because they read novels that tell them of these trisks...

I recognize the quote from Tess. I am stunned by the irony as I’ve just spent three hours writing about the novels of Thomas Hardy in my final examination. Perhaps there is no irony… perhaps it’s deliberate.

I inspect the books closely, three volumes of Tess of the D’Urbervilles. I open the front cover. Written in an old typeface on the front plate is:

‘London: Jack R. Osgood, McIlvaine and Co., 1891.’

Holy fuck - they are first editions. They must be worth a fortune, and I know immediately who’s sent them. Bella is at my shoulder gazing at the books. She picks up the card.

“First Editions,” I whisper.

“No way...” Bella’s eyes are wide with disbelief. “Grey?”

I nod. “Can’t think of anyone else.”

“What does this card mean?”

“I have no idea. I think it’s a warning – honestly he keeps warning me off. I have no idea why. It’s not like I’m beating his door down.” I frown.

“I know you don’t want to talk about him, Y/N/N, but he’s seriously into you. Warnings or no.”

I have not let myself dwell on Christian Grey for the past week. Okay…I know it will take an eternity to expunge the feel of his arms around me and his wonderful fragrance from my brain. Why has he sent me this?

He told me that I wasn’t for him.

“I’ve found one Tess first edition for sale in New York at $14,000. But yours looks in much better condition. They must have cost more.” Bella is consulting her good friend Google.

“This quote – Tess says it to her mother after Alec D’Urberville has had his wicked way with her.”

“I know,” muses Bella. “What is he trying to say?”

“I don’t know, and I don’t care. I can’t accept these from him. I’ll send them back with an equally baffling quote from some obscure part of the book.”

“The bit where Angel Clare says fuck off?” Bella asks with a completely straight face.

“Yes, that bit.” I giggle. I love Bella, she’s so loyal and supportive. I repack the books and leave them on the dining table. She hands me a glass of champagne.

“To the end of exams and our new life in Seattle,” she grins.

“To the end of exams, our new life in Seattle, and excellent results.” We clink glasses and drink.

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The bar is loud and hectic, full of soon to be graduates out to get trashed. José joins us. He won’t graduate for another year, but he’s in the mood to party and gets us into the spirit of our newfound freedom by buying a pitcher of margaritas for us all.

As I down my fifth, I know this is not a good idea on top of the champagne.

“So what now Y/N/N?” José shouts at me over the noise.

“Bella and I are moving to Seattle. Her parents have bought a condo there for her.”

“But you’ll be back for my show, right?”

“Of course, José, I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” I smile, and he puts his arm around my waist and pulls me close.

“It means a lot to me that you’ll be there Y/N/N,” he whispers in my ear. “Another margarita?”

“José Luis Rodriguez – are you trying to get me drunk? Because I think it’s working.” I giggle. “I think I’d better have a beer. I’ll go get us a pitcher.”

“More drinks, Y/N/N!” Bella bellows.

Bella has the constitution of an ox. She’s got her arm draped over Levi, one of our fellow English students and her usual photographer on her student newspaper. He’s given up taking photos of the drunkenness that surrounds him. He only has eyes for her. She’s in a stunning red dress that hugs her curves perfectly with black high heels and curls that reach her back elegantly.

Me, I’m in my usual skirt outfit but Bella made it more 'club like' and I love it, I feel very comfortable.

I move out of José’s hold and get up from our table. Whoa. Head spin. I have to grab the back of the chair. Tequila based cocktails are not a good idea.

I make my way to the bar and decide that I should visit the restroom while I am on my feet.

Good thinking, Y/N. I stagger off through the crowd. Of course, there’s a line, but at least it’s quiet and cool in the corridor. I reach for my cell phone to relieve the boredom of waiting in line.

Hmm… Who did I last call? Was it José? Before that a number I don’t recognize. Oh yes. Grey, I think this is his number. I giggle. I have no idea what the time is, maybe I’ll wake him. Perhaps he can tell me why he sent me those books and the crypticmessage.

If he wants me to stay away, he should leave me alone. I suppress a drunken grin and hit the automatic re-dial. He answers on the second ring. “Y/N?” He’s surprised to hear from me. Well, frankly, I’m surprised to ring him.

Then my befuddled brain registers… how does he know it’s me? “Why did you send me the books?” I slur at him.

“Y/N, are you okay? You sound strange.” His voice is filled with concern.

“I’m not the strange one, you are,” I accuse. My courage fuelled by alcohol.

“Y/N, have you been drinking?”

“What’s it to you?”

“I’m...curious. Where are you?”

“In a bar.”

“Which bar?” He sounds exasperated.

“A bar in Portland.”

“How are you getting home?”

“I’ll find a way.” This conversation is not going how I expected.

“Which bar are you in?”

“Why did you send me the books, Christian?”

“Y/N, where are you, tell me now.” His tone is so, so dictatorial, his usual control freak.

He's a freak. The thought makes me laugh.“You’re so… domineering,” I giggle.

“Where the fuck are you?” He asked angrily.

Christian Grey is swearing at me. I giggle again. “I’m in Portland… s’a long way from Seattle s'a long way from your bizarre ass.”

“Where in Portland?”

“Goodnight, Christian.”

“Y/N!”

I hang up. Ha! Though he didn’t tell me about the books. I frown. Mission not accomplished. I am really quite drunk - my head swims uncomfortably as I shuffle with the line. Well, the object of the exercise was to get drunk. I have succeeded. This is what it’s like – probably not an experience to be repeated.

The line has moved, and it’s now my turn. I stare blankly at the poster on the back of the toilet door that extols the virtues of safe sex.

Fuck, did I just call Christian Grey? Shit. My phone rings and it makes me jump. I yelp in surprise. “Hi,” I bleat timidly in to the phone. I hadn’t reckoned on this.

“I’m coming to get you,” he says and hangs up. Only Christian Grey could sound so calm and so threatening at the same time.

What the hell. I pull my skirt up. My heart is thumping. Coming to get me?

Oh no. I’m going to be sick… no… I’m fine. Hang on. He’s just messing with my head. I didn’t tell him where I was. He can’t find me here. Besides, it will take him hours to get here from Seattle, and we’ll be long gone by then. I wash my hands and check my face in the mirror.

I look flushed and slightly unfocused. Hmm… tequila.

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*𝘾𝙃𝙍𝙄𝙎𝙏𝙄𝘼𝙉'𝙎 𝙋𝙊𝙑*

┅┅

The bar is crowded, full of students determined to have a good time. There’s some indie crap thumping over the sound system and the dance floor is crowded with heaving bodies.

It makes me feel old.

She’s here somewhere.

Elliot has followed me in through the front door. “Do you see her?” he shouts over the noise.

Scanning the room, I spot Isabella Clark. She’s with a group of friends, all of them men, sitting in a booth. There’s no sign of Y/N, but the table is littered with shot glasses and tumblers of beer.

Well, let’s see if Miss Clark is as loyal to her friend as Y/N is to her. She looks at me in surprise when we arrive at her table.

“Isabella,” I say by way of greeting, and she interrupts me before I can ask her Y/N’s whereabouts.

“Christian, what a surprise to see you here,” she shouts above the noise. The three guys at the table regard Elliot and me with hostile wariness.

“I was in the neighborhood.”

“And who’s this?” She smiles rather too brightly at Elliot, interrupting me again. What an exasperating woman.

“This is my brother Elliot. Elliot, Isabella Clark. Where’s Y/N?”

Her smile broadens at Elliot, and I’m surprised by his answering grin.

“I think she went outside for some fresh air, she responds, but she doesn’t look at me. She has eyes only for Mr. Love ’Em and Leave ’Em. Well, it’s her funeral.

“Outside? Where?” I shout.

“Oh. That way.” She points to double doors at the far end of the bar.

Pushing through the throng, I make my way to the door, leaving the three disgruntled men and Clark and Elliot engaged in a grin-off.

Through the double doors there is a line for the ladies’ washroom, and beyond that a door that’s open to the outside. It’s at the back of the bar. Ironically, it leads to the parking lot where Elliot and I have just been.

Walking outside, I find myself in a gathering space adjacent to the parking lot—a hangout flanked by raised flowerbeds, where a few people are smoking, drinking, chatting. Making out. I spot her.

Fucking hell. She’s with the photographer, I think, though it’s difficult to tell in the dim light. She’s in his arms, but she seems to be twisting away from him. He mutters something to her, which I don’t hear, and kisses her, along her jaw.

“José, no,” she says, and then it’s clear. She’s trying to push him off. She doesn’t want this.

For a moment I want to rip his head off. With my hands fisted at my side I march up to them. “I think the lady said no.” My voice carries, cold and sinister, in the relative quiet, while I struggle to contain my anger.

He releases Y/N and she squints at me with a dazed, drunken expression.

“Grey,” he says, his voice terse, and it takes every ounce of my self-control not to smash the disappointment off his face.

Y/N heaves, then buckles over and vomits on the ground.

Oh, shit!

“Ugh—Dios mío, Y/N/N!” José leaps out of the way in disgust.

Fucking idiot.

Ignoring him, I grab her hair and hold it out of the way as she continues to throw up everything she’s had this evening. It’s with some annoyance that I note she doesn’t appear to have eaten. With my arm around her shoulders I lead her away from the curious onlookers toward one of the flowerbeds.

“If you’re going to throw up again, do it here. I’ll hold you.” It’s darker here. She can puke in peace. She vomits again and again, her hands on the brick. It’s pitiful. Once her stomach is empty, she continues to retch, long dry heaves.

Boy, she’s got it bad.

Finally her body relaxes and I think she’s finished. Releasing her, I give her my handkerchief, which by some miracle I have in the inside pocket of my jacket.

Thank you, Mrs. Jones.

Wiping her mouth, she turns and rests against the bricks, avoiding eye contact because she’s ashamed and embarrassed. And yet I’m so pleased to see her. Gone is my fury at the photographer. I’m delighted to be standing in the parking lot of a student bar in Portland with Miss Y/N Y/L/N.

She puts her head in her hands, cringes, then peeks up at me, still mortified. Turning to the door, she glares over my shoulder. I assume it’s at her “friend.”

“I’ll, um, see you inside,” José says, but I don’t turn to stare him down, and to my favour, she ignores him, too, returning her eyes to mine.

“I’m sorry,” she says finally, while her fingers twist the soft linen.

Okay, let’s have some fun.

“What are you sorry for, Y/N?”

“The phone call, mainly. Being sick. The list goes on,” she mumbles.

“We’ve all been here, perhaps not quite as dramatically as you.” Why is it such fun to tease this young woman? “It’s about knowing your limits, Y/N. I mean, I’m all for pushing limits, but really this is beyond the pale. Do you make a habit of this kind of behavior?”

Perhaps she has a problem with alcohol. The thought is worrying, and I consider whether I should call my mother for a referral to a detox clinic.

Y/N frowns for a moment, as if angry, that little v forming between her brows, and I suppress the urge to kiss it. But when she speaks she sounds contrite.

“No,” she says. “I’ve never been drunk before and right now I have no desire to ever be again.” She looks up at me, her eyes unfocused, and she sways a little. She might pass out, so without giving it a thought I scoop her up into my arms.

She’s surprisingly light. Too light. The thought irks me. No wonder she’s drunk.

“Come on, I’ll take you home.”

“I need to tell Bella,” she says, as her head rests on my shoulder.

“My brother can tell her.”

“What?”

“My brother Elliot is talking to Miss Clark”

“Oh?”

“He was with me when you called.”

“In Seattle?”

“No, I’m staying at The Heathman.” And my wild-goose chase has paid off.

“How did you find me?”

“I tracked your cell phone, Y/N.” I head toward the car. I want to drive her home. “Do you have a jacket or a purse?”

“Er…yes, I came with both. Christian, please, I need to tell Bella. She’ll worry.”

I stop and bite my tongue. Clark wasn’t worried about her being out here with the overamorous photographer. Rodriguez. That’s his name. What kind of friend is she? The lights from the bar illuminate her anxious face.

As much as it pains me, I put her down and agree to take her inside. Holding hands, we walk back into the bar, stopping at Bella’s table. One of the young men is still sitting there, looking annoyed and abandoned.

“Where’s Bella?” Y/N shouts above the noise.

“Dancing,” the guy says, his dark eyes staring at the dance floor. She collects her leather black coat and purse and, reaching out, she unexpectedly clutches my arm.

I freeze.

Shit.

My heart rate catapults into overdrive as the darkness surfaces, stretching and tightening its claws around my throat.

“She’s on the dance floor,” she shouts, her words tickling my ear, distracting me from my fear. And suddenly the darkness disappears and the pounding in my heart ceases.

What?

I roll my eyes to hide my confusion and take her to the bar, order a large glass of water, and pass it to her.

“Drink.”

Eyeing me over the glass, she takes a tentative sip.

“All of it,” I command. I’m hoping this will be enough damage control to avoid one hell of a hangover tomorrow.

What might have happened to her if I hadn’t intervened? My mood sinks.

And I think of what just happened to me. Her touch. My reaction.

My mood plummets further.

Y/N sways a little as she’s drinking, so I steady her with a hand on her shoulder. I like the connection—me touching her.

She finishes her drink, and retrieving the glass, I place it on the bar. Okay. She wants to talk to her so-called friend. I survey the crowded dance floor, uneasy at the thought of all those bodies pressing in on me as we fight our way through.

Steeling myself, I grab her hand and lead her toward the dance floor. She hesitates, but if she wants to talk to her friend, there’s only one way; she’s going to have to dance with me. Once Elliot gets his groove on, there’s no stopping him; so much for his quiet night in.

With a tug, she’s in my arms.

This I can handle. When I know she’s going to touch me, it’s okay. I can deal, especially since I’m wearing my jacket. I weave us through the crowd to where Elliot and Bella are making a spectacle of themselves.

Still dancing, Elliot leans toward me in mid-strut when we’re beside him and sizes us up with a look of incredulity.

“I’m taking Y/N home. Tell Bella,” I shout in his ear.

He nods and pulls Clark into his arms.

Right. Let me take Miss Drunk Bookworm home, but for some reason she seems reluctant to go. She’s watching Clark with concern. When we’re off the dance floor she looks back at Bella, then at me, swaying and a little dazed.

“Fuck—” By some miracle I catch her as she passes out in the middle of the bar. I’m tempted to haul her over my shoulder, but we’d be too conspicuous, so I pick her up once more, cradling her against my chest, and take her outside to the car.

“Christ,” I mutter as I fish the key out of my jeans and hold her at the same time. Amazingly, I manage to get her into the front seat and strap her in.

“Y/N.” I give her a little shake, because she’s worryingly quiet. “Y/N!”

She mumbles something incoherent and I know she’s still conscious. I know I should take her home, but it’s a long drive to Vancouver, and I don’t know if she’ll be sick again. I don’t relish the idea of my Audi reeking of vomit. The smell emanating from her clothes is already noticeable.

I head to The Heathman, telling myself that I’m doing this for her sake.

Yeah, tell yourself that, Grey.

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She sleeps in my arms as we travel up in the elevator from the garage. I need to get her out of her skirt and her shoes. The stale stench of vomit pervades the space. I’d really like to give her a bath, but that would be stepping beyond the bounds of propriety.

And this isn’t?

In my suite, I drop her purse on the sofa, then carry her into the bedroom and lay her down on the bed. She mumbles once more but doesn’t wake. Briskly I remove her shoes and put them in the plastic laundry bag provided by the hotel. Then I unzip her skirt and pull it off stuffing the piece of clothing in the laundry bag.

She falls back on the bed, splayed out like a starfish, all pale arms and legs, and for a moment I picture those legs wrapped around my waist as her wrists are bound to my Saint Andrew’s cross.

I sit her up and she opens her eyes. “Hello, Y/N,” I whisper, as I remove her jacket slowly and without her cooperation.

“Grey. Kiss,” she mutters.

“Yes, sweetheart.” I ease her down onto the bed. She closes her eyes again and rolls onto her side, but this time huddles into a ball, looking small and vulnerable. I pull the covers over her and plant a kiss in her hair.

Now that her filthy clothes have gone, a trace of her scent has reappeared. Apples, fall, fresh, delicious…Y/N. Her lips are parted, eyelashes fanning out over pale cheeks, and her skin looks flawless. One more touch is all I allow myself as I stroke her cheek with the back of my index finger.

“Sleep well,” I murmur, and then head into the living room to complete the laundry list. When it’s done, I place the offending bag outside my suite so the contents will be collected and laundered.

Before I check my e-mails I text Welch, asking him to see if José Rodriguez has any police records. I’m curious. I want to know if he preys on drunk young women. Then I address the issue of clothes for Miss Y/L/N: I send a quick e-mail to Taylor.

•••

From: Christian Grey

RE: Miss Anastasia Steele

Date: May 20, 2023 23:46

To: J B Taylor.

——

Can you please find the following items for Miss Steele and have them delivered to my usual room before 10:00.

Skirt: Black Size 4

Shirt: White. Pretty. Size 4

Boots: Black Size 7

Socks: Size 7

Lingerie: Underwear—Size Small. Bra—Estimate 36C

Thank you.

Christian Grey

CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

•••

Once it’s disappeared from my outbox, I text Elliot.

Y/N is with me. If you’re still with Bella, tell her.

He texts by return.

Will do. Hope you get laid. You soooo need it. ;)

His response makes me snort.

I so do, Elliot. I so do.

I open my work e-mail and begin to read.

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Nearly two hours later, I come to bed. It’s just after 1:45. She’s fast asleep and hasn’t moved from where I left her. I strip, pull on my pajama pants and a T-shirt, and climb in beside her. She’s comatose; it’s unlikely she’s going to thrash around and touch me.

I hesitate for a moment as the darkness swells within me, but it doesn’t surface and I know it’s because I’m watching the hypnotic rise and fall of her chest and I’m breathing in sync with her.

In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. For seconds, minutes, hours, I don’t know, I watch her. And while she sleeps I survey every beautiful inch of her lovely face. Her dark lashes fluttering while she sleeps, her lips slightly parted so I glimpse her even white teeth.

She mutters something unintelligible and her tongue darts out and licks her lips. It’s arousing, very arousing. Finally I fall into a deep and dreamless slumber.

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[ series masterlist ]

DON'T BE AFRAID TO SPAM WITH LIKES AND COMMENTS. I WOULD ALSO APPRECIATE IT IF YOU COULD REBLOG THIS POST <3

[hotxcheeto]

Can you do brat-tamer ellie and she’s sweet but of course very rough. If it isn’t obvious this would be smut with a female reader. Ty!

━ 𝐂𝐑𝐘𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘

𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜(𝙨) - Ellie Williams x Fem!Reader 𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 - Cursing, rough/messy sex, slight choking, brat tamer!dom!ellie, brat!sub!reader, slight mean!ellie, mentions of drool and the reader drooling, strap on use ( r! receiving) , fingering ( r! receiving ), afab!reader, pet names, slight degradation, praise, slight dubcon, hickies, bro its long and messy

𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙤𝙛𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 ? - Yeah/Nope

𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧'𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚 - holy hell this took me like 4 days, a lot of breaks, started playing snake halfway through, got bored, ate nachos and here it is!. I hope you enjoy and please, remember Jesus probably cries everytime I open my laptop <3 all jokes aside, thank you darling for the request <3

"Why're you in a mood?" "'m not." You muttered from your place, squished against Ellie's pillow. Laying on your stomach along the end of the bed. Ellie huffed, throwing her jacket onto the couch before walking over to you.

"You are." "No I'm not. Leave me alone." You huffed, staring at her TV , snuggling deeper into the fluff of the pillow. "Babe.." Ellie got onto the bed, walking on her knees over to you. "You were flirting with her!" You huffed, rolling onto your back.

"She was giving you that stupid smile and goo-goo eyes and you just sat there! You didn't even look at me." You huffed, a small pout crossing your face as your eyes met Ellie's.

The girl had a small smirk on her face, looking down at you.

"Stop giving me that stupid face. You were ignoring me! You didn't even notice when I left." Your hands smacked against your bare thighs as you rambled on. "I did notice." "But you didn't come." You crossed your arms, looking away from her.

"I'm sorry." "Ellie!" You huffed and sat up, sliding off the bed while Ellie only raised her hands. "What do you want me to say?" She laughed slightly, watching your bottom lip stick out, a small frown on your face.

"I wasn't flirting with her Y/n. You're doing the jealous thing again." "No I'm not! Stop being an assh-" "Hey-" Ellie grabbed your face, squishing your cheeks together. Not enough to hurt you, just taking you by surprise. Goosebumps rising along your skin "-stop talking to me like that."

"Okay.. 'm sorry." "Are you?" She let go of your face, fingers slowly trailing down your to your jaw. Then tickling your neck. "Yeah, I just wanted you to sit with me but you sat with her." "Because someone wanted to go talk to... what was that fuckers name? Right, Derek, the guy who used to want to fuck you."

You knew better than to answer the question, hearing her go on. Knowing the crush Derek used, or still had, on you. Looking down, avoiding her eyes. Instead, shrugging as her hand fell to your hip.

"I bet you think she's prettier than I am. Maybe I should've flirted with him, then you would've payed attention to me." Your words came out in a snappy way, attitude laced between your lips as you crossed your arms. Hiding your pounding heart.

"Now leave me alone." You let out a dramatic noise before going to stomp off and away. Or as far as you could get in the small space.

But before you could Ellie had gripped you up, pulling you right back in front of her. Standing in between her thighs, you met her eyes. Darkness clouding her green irises, her smile having fallen away.

"Y/n." "What?" "Quit it." Before you even got a word passed your parted lips she'd cut you off. "Maybe you should've flirted with him, went home with him. Or maybe you're gonna listen to me now. And be good?"

You didn't say a word.

"You know what to do." And you did, as much as you wish you didn't you couldn't help the excitement spreading throughout. Biting back any form of happiness at your success, your fingers found the bottom of your shirt.

You pulled it over your head with ease, reaching behind yourself to unclip your bra. Moving slowly as to draw it out, lightly pushing the straps from your shoulders leaving the garment to fall to the ground.

"Don't tease me." "Sorry.." You muttered only to feel her grab the back of your thigh and squeeze. "Keep going. Don't talk." Your fingers looped into your waistband and pushed the shorts down your legs. This left you in just your underwear.

You felt hot under her gaze, your hands moving to cover your stomach and boobs. But she hadn't let you, grabbing your wrists before you got the chance. Pulling you down, letting you crash into her lap.

"Ellie.." "Shut it, unless you wanna go keep flirting with fuckface?" You shook your head, playing with the neckline of her shirt. Running your fingers over it, lightly brushing her skin. Green eyes watching you. Her words running straight in between your legs. The ache worsening the more she teased.

Ellie's fingers then snuck around to your nipple, brushing over it just slightly making you shift against her. Throbbing cunt being brushed over by her other hand. Ghosting over your inner thigh, watching as your eyes glanced to look down at them.

A little whine passed your lips before the touch was gone. A pout finding itself back onto your face. Ellie sliding out from under you, sitting you down on the mattress.

She kissed you again, taking your breath away, melting into the kiss. It made your head dizzy and fuzzy, out of breath and wanting more. Lips plump against her own.

Leaning forward, chasing her mouth, feeling her hand slipping towards your neck. Taking its place just in the middle, grip slowly becoming more prominent.

Her roughness in kissing you picking up at the same time, beginning to push you back into the bed.

You hadn't realized Ellie was slowly getting you to crawl further back. Forcing herself forward and towards you getting you to sit in the middle of the bed, any farther back and you'd be on the edge.

"He just couldn't help himself, huh?" Ellie let out a breathy laugh, kissing down your neck. Creating marks in her wake before shoving you back against the bed. Your body bouncing slightly before she continued her attack, focusing on your tits this time.

"I guess I get it." Her lips muttered against your skin, chills falling down your back making you shiver. Ellie's mouth latching around your nipple, a grumbly moan leaving your lips, pushing yourself towards her mouth.

"Ellie, please, just-" "No." You whined earning another grab of your face, puffing your lips up for her to kiss. A small chuckle of hers filling the near silent room. The TV still going in the background.

"Take them off." Ellie stood up, tilting your head as you hooked your fingers under the sides of your panties. Staring her in the eyes as you slowly pulled them down your thighs. Bringing your legs close while sliding them down, the fabric dangling on your fingers.

You smiled as you dropped them onto the floor in front of Ellie, leaning back as your wet cunt finally became visible to her. But her eyes never left your own, a nervous yet tingly feeling entering your gut.

"Touch yourself." "Wait but-" "Now." You could've whimpered at her words, instead opting to swallow your noises. Dragging your hand down your body, fingertips grazing your nipple before falling down in between your legs.

You felt small under her stare, beginning to rub little circle around your clit. Body jolting as you made contact, a little moan passing your lips.

You laid back against the bed, picking up the pace as you rubbed you sensitive nub. Biting your lip as more sounds filled the room, vibrating your throat, other hand moving to your chest.

Your eyes suddenly squeezed shut, dipping your fingers into your hole. Your noises filling the room along with the wet sounds of your fingers moving in and out of yourself.

"Keep your eyes open, babe. Look at me." "I can't-" "Yes you can." You watched Ellie, fingers still moving in and out of yourself. The girl in front of you beginning to undress herself, starting with her shirt.

"Ellie.. El please hurry up-" As much as you moved your fingers in and out of yourself, it wasn't the same. Fingers pushing against your walls yet not bringing near as much pleasure as Ellie's. Not reaching the spot you needed to just graze, just a little bit. "No, I think I'll take my time pretty girl."

You whined out loud this time, watching her unhook her belt before pulling it through its hoops. Discarding it on the ground.

"Please Ellie I'm sorry- I won't talk to him anymore. I promise, I promise-" You repeated like a mantra, legs shaking as you tried to work yourself towards your high. Ellie stood in just her underwear and sports bra, staring down at you like you were her main course at dinner.

You could feel your stomach tightening, the sight of her beginning to draw you closer to your finish. The feeling of your orgasm creeping up, pussy throbbing under your fingers despite the pumping of your hand.

"Please Ellie, pleaseee-" You dragged your words, quickening your pace, squelching sounds mixing with your cries and pleads for her to just touch you.

Ellie's smile soon returned, falling onto the bed on her knees before coming towards you. Pulling your hand away from your pulsating core, hips jerking towards her mouth as her hot breath began fanning your wetness.

"Please, I won't talk to him anymore please. I promise, I'll be good." You both knew that was a lie, you'd start acting up again as soon as you'd gotten your way. Later, probably finding something else to piss the green eyed girl off with.

"You look so pretty when you beg." Ellie took a long lick up your slit, your head falling back and off the bed, dangling against the edge of the mattress. "Oh Ellie, oh fuck-" You cried out, throaty moans filling the air along with a string of 'yeses' following along as her tongue moved skillfully around your clit. Circling it, thumb prodding at your hole.

"More, please faster- I want- your fingers-" "Ask nicely." You picked your head up to look at her, sucking on your clit harshly, not giving in. "Please El, please I want your fingers please- please-" You didn't get another word out when her two fingers slipped inside, still continuing her focus on your little clit.

You could barely get a few coherent words out, blabbering as her fingers practically slammed in and out of you. Ellie's quickness yet force made your body move everytime her fingers pushed back in, a light wet slapping sound filling the air.

"You still wanna talk to him?" She could see you just barely shaking your head, "-no, no, no fuckkk-" Your stomach tightened so much you felt like you couldn't catch a breath of air, choking as you cried out in pleasure. "El- El 'm gonna cum-" "Come then Y/n."

You let out a few more blabbering words, her tongue returning to your clit, playing with it while tears welled in your eyes. Falling down your cheeks as you snapped cumming against her face, uncaring at how loud you'd gotten.

You clenched around her fingers, fluttering around her mouth as you came hard. Eyes rolling back into your head, mind going fuzzy while small little pants passed your lips.

Ellie didn't let up though, fingers still moving in and out, slowly this time. Half-lidded eyes looking up at you through her eyelashes

"El.." you whimpered out, moving down to grab her hand while she only let out a breathy laugh. Kissing your inner thigh. "I'm not done." Your body jerked towards her fingers, squeezing your fingers, still drawing out your orgasm when she began picking up her pace once again.

"Too much." You whispered, trying to close your thighs around her only them to be forced back open. "One more, come on you can give me one more." "Okay.. okay-"

Ellie cut you off with a kiss, smirking into it while adding a third finger, pumping her them in and out, moving faster and faster making your head spin at the sudden pick up in pace.

The tips grazing against your g-stop, muffled moans entering Ellie's mouth within the kiss. Not stopping, taking your breath away and making you feel even hazier, eyes glossed over when she pulled away to see your face.

"Babe, I think your drooling." You mumbled something in response, Ellie wiping your face with her free hand, pushing back the baby hairs that stuck to your forehead. "I'm gonna come-" You practically cried, her hand moving so fast you couldn't keep up with the bubbling feeling in your gut.

"Yeah?" "Yeah, please.. please-" "Then come Y/n." You did, with a loud scream that Ellie swallowed up, kissing you. Her body practically laying against your shaking one, legs failing to stay open as your hips jumped, bucking her away.

As she brought you down from your high, her fingers finally left your heat.

"Open." Your mouth open, jaw going slack as her fingers entered your mouth. Lust-filled eyes meeting your own blow out ones, batting your eyelashes at her as you licked her fingers clean.

She then pulled them out with a 'pop', kissing you once again before pulling away. "Will you get on your stomach?" "Ellie.." You whined, but she only laid a light smack to your thigh. Grinning down at you, a small pout on your face, but nonetheless you rolled onto your belly.

"Are you still upset?" You muttered into the sheets, Ellie grabbing an all-too familiar box, opening it. She didn't respond though, pulling out her favorite strap, turning to look at you with it dangling on her fingers.

You felt her grab your ass as she got close, clipping the strap around her hips. The tip teasing your slit.

You could feel your pussy flutter once again, against the silicone. Ellie smiling as she pushed it watching your pretty cunt envelope the fake cock, sliding in with ease.

"Oh..." You barely got a moment to adjust, Ellie beginning to pull in and out. Slamming her hips against yours, the slapping sound from earlier now amplified. Crashing against each wall, filling the room up to the brim with moans and skin against skin.

Ellie's hand slipped underneath your head, grabbing your neck, pulling you up so her mouth was beside your ear.

"Do you think that boy could fuck you like this? Do you think he could make you come all over his cock?" Ellie's other hand wrapped around to rub your clit, a loud cry filling her ears making her smile. "Huh?" "No- no- only y-you El-Ellie-"

Her hand suddenly shoved your head down to the bed, keeping you pinned there as she fucked you hard. Drilling into you, fingers keeping pace at your clit adding to the wet mess between your thighs.

"Only you-" You blabbered on, tears in your eyes and spilling down your cheeks. "My pretty little crybaby.." Ellie kept your head down, one hand on your hip and the other squishing your cheek.

"You think I'd fuck that girl like this? Like I fuck my little crybaby?" "No, only fuck- on- me-" "Only you." Ellie let go of your head, but you didn't move, feeling both her hands on your hips squeezing your plush skin.

"I'm g-go-gonna commee.." You said lazily, biting down on your bottom lip that was covered in your saliva. Drooling onto the bed, loud moans barreling off the walls as the coil in your stomach began to tighten taking your breath away.

"El-" "Let go Y/n/n, come for me." Ellie hands were sure to leave bruises along your skin, your high finally tipping making you scream out. Throat already sore, picking your head up from the bed as she continued to slam into you. Ellie grabbing at some of your hair to get you closer to her face.

"Too much- Ellie too much- I can't-" Ellie didn't slow down at first before finally her pace began to slow, massaging your hips with her hands. Pulling the fake cock from your cunt. Feeling you collapse against the bed.

"Hey..." Ellie helped you move to lay on your back, looking at your dazed face, eyes glazed and blown out. Humming when she laid a hand on your cheek, leaning into her touch.

"I've never heard you get like that.." You giggled quietly, a lazy smile on your face. Making a noise and leaning upward. Ellie snorted before leaning down to kiss you softly, giving you another one. Then another before she could feel you laughed, smiling into the many more kisses she made sure to give you.

"Alright, I'll be right back." "Hurry up, or I might die." "Seriously?" Ellie laughed again before pressing a kiss to your forehead. Standing up and leaving you to sit up and push your hair back.

"I wasn't flirting with her by the way." Ellie came over with a wet towel, pushing your legs apart. Looking at your face when you huffed. "Yeah right. First you ignore me and then you move on!" Ellie smiled at your dramatics, wiping you down, the sweat from your face being cleaned off while you grumbled out some more complaints.

"Shut it." "I love you." You said in a sing-songy voice, leaning up on your knees to kiss her again. Falling forward slightly when your legs shook underneath your weight.

"Lay down..." Ellie held her laughter back while you pouted, falling back on the bed with a loud groan. "I love you too." "You hate me." "Yeah so much." You gasped, Ellie biting back her laughter before walking off to get you clothes. Tossing the towel towards her pile of dirty clothes.

"I want a sandwich." "Anything else?" "Mm my girlfriend." Ellie soon returned with clothes, tossing your shirt to you. "I need help." "You're such a brat." You giggled, Ellie moving to put the shirt over your head. "Only for you." "Hm, is that right?"

A/n: ahaha, this is so bad

more ellie smut coming soon

[luvly-writer]

“XOXO”

Ch. 3 Part-Time lovers, full time problem

—•—

Tim Drake x reader

Fic + social media Au

warnings:

taglist: @w31rdg1rl @mxtokko @loonymoonystuff @grandstrangerphantom

Author’s note: One thing i love about Christmas is all the free time i have to write new stuff after finals 🤭 (she said as she still has a few finals to finish 😍). HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS CHAPTER!

For those wondering about “BOCM” i am having such a hard time finishing it. When my phone got changed the notes i had on that story got deleted and so i had to improvise a little cause i forgot its ending and it’s so frustrating cause i always want to give you guys quality content. I am scratching my head trying to finish it so i’ll continue this one and update slowly so that i can finish it correctly. Love you all and thank you for your patience.

Masterlist:

“Absolutely insufferable, she is,” said Tim to himself as he ran his hand through his hair. He had been begrudgingly cleaning his apartment. He was tempted to leave it dirty just to take a piss at Yn but he was sure that wouldn’t look good for his reputation so here he was. He would have hired someone to do it for him but recalling all the things he had regarding his alter ego, he knew he would have been fucked and he really couldn’t risk someone else knowing.

Finally, he finished ensuring everything looked great and sat back on his couch with his laptop. "There must be something about her that I can find. I refuse to be outdone and unprepared for this," he said, searching for any leverage he could hold over Y/n's head to bargain for his secret to remain so. Thirty minutes later he had found absolutely nothing. Unlike her two best friends, Clara Dupont and Satine Abbott, who were known to be found in scandal after scandal every week, Y/n had a clean slate. Satine was constantly partying during some fashion week or getting caught sleeping around with some governor's son or a married businessman. Clara has been known to pay off people to do her bidding, caught buying off police, lawyers, teachers, professors, judges and so, to run the city however she pleased. Yet, Y/n had nothing against her. Every article he found was about a charity she had worked on, a program she had opened, or an award she was given; and were all of them legit. She seemed like the angel in their group, but Tim knew better than to trust the all-too-shiny act. He has some recollection of them during high school though; he was a grade above them. They were known for their tight and exclusive group of three. He remembers how girls would do anything to become one of them. If it meant they had to step on someone else to appease one of the three, they would have done so. After all, having them as a connection moved mountains. Tim quickly grew frustrated. No psycho exes, no drug addiction, no jail time, no one dead, no bribes, nothing that could have stained the Vanderbilt name.

Throwing his head back, he heard his phone ring. Y/n was here. He sets his laptop on the coffee table and walks to the door, opening it and revealing a dazzling young woman in an outfit he thought someone as flashy as she never would wear. White Converse, comfortable mom jeans, a laid-back button-up up, and a cozy long brown coat. Her hair was loose and her face fresh with little makeup. Even after spending hours looking at pictures of her during his search, she still managed to take his breath away every time he was in her presence.

"I know I'm mesmerizing, but can you please let me inside? I'm freezing here," she said with her nose a little red.

He rolls his eyes with a laugh and lets her in. "I was gonna go more for repulsive but if that helps you sleep at night."

"Says the one that looks like sewer trampled rat" she quips back.

Tim couldn't help the snort that came out of him. She was an endless supply of good comebacks. He wonders how an interaction between his brothers and her would go, maybe he finally found someone to go head-to-head with Damian. She takes her coat off and lays it on the couch, together with her Burberry bag. He takes notice that her coat is also Burberry and decides to tease her a little. "And here I thought you were actually looking a little humble, but the coat and the bag ruin the look," he says as he scrunches his nose. He feels laughter bubbling as he catches the deadpan she gives him. "Whose less humble, me for wearing it and not saying a single thing or you for identifying it rather quickly and feeling the need to point it out?" she asks as she places a hand on her hip smirking at him.

"Touche"

She nods satisfied at his response and sits on the couch in front of him. "Ok. First order of business-"

"First order of business is giving me the reason as to why you are doing this." Tim interrupts her. She sighs and looks up, "God give me strength to not strangle him" she whispers and Tim tries to hold back a smirk.

"I wAS going to get to that before you so rudely interrupted me. The first order of business is giving you the context I am sure you are dying to hear." she pauses to look at him and he gestures for her to continue. He sees her look down and seem almost embarrassed. He can tell she is hesitating so he tries his best guess, "Are you trying to make someone jealous?"

"No, it's not that, it..." She takes a deep breath and spills it out. "My parents want me to marry a man who is very much too much older than me with the idea that it will help solidify the family lineage which I think is absurd because my sisters are right there AND THEY ARE MARRIED already to someone they love. But because Aurora and Charlisse keep on fighting to become the next CEO, my parents think it is only right to marry ME off to a very wrinkly and truly disturbing man who i am sure 20 years older than me because someone should continue the line whilst the other two are focused on their careers and making something out of their lives. SO, I needed to find a boyfriend who would be suitable for their standards whilst Aurora and Charlisse sort it out so that when they do, the attention and pressure of continuing the line will go back to them and not me." Y/n finishes breathing out. Tim was taken aback. Not only the normally composed girl he was used to seeing, spoke 7 words per second, but he was blown away by the information she had just given him.

"I need...a drink? Do you want one?" he said standing up and heading to the kitchen. No wonder she said this might take a while.

"Yes please" she said with a tense smile. "do you have wine?"

Tim made a sound of confirmation as he poured some scotch. He wasn't much of a drinker, but years of being part of the business world made him earn some appreciation for the drink. Especially on times like these. He poured some wine for her in a glass and walked back with both drinks. He gave her the glass and sat down. "Isn't that a little medieval?"

"Old money has habits that are tough to kill, unfortunately" she mutters dejectedly to her glass. "So, Timothy, any questions?"

"A few actually"

"Go ahead" she sad as she leaned back and got comfortable.

"Whose the old man?"

"Mr. Morris."

"You are fucking with me!" Tim reacted horrified, making Y/n laugh. If he hadn't been so shocked he would have delighted in her laughter but atlas, the situation did not give him the flexibility to do so. "Y/n say you are lying! That man is too old"

"I know, next question."

"Why me?"

"You are a good candidate and a lucky coincidence. I was going to ask Satine and Clara to help me but, that frankly would have ended in a disaster. I believe that as long as a plan stays between the parties involved who have something to lose, it will be successful. Satine would have chosen some random man who she's probably been involved with and Clara knows everything about everyone in the city-"

"Everything?"

"Except this of course, as I was saying she probably would have created a fake identity, assigned it to someone then, bribed them into playing the part."

"Much like you did?"

"I blackmailed you, not bribed you, get it right. Continuing, it was rather easy to choose you. You are Bruce Wayne's son, and even without that, you come from high society from your biological family, so you know the social cues and the ways of the people I am constantly surrounded by. You have proven to be quite ingenious as well as a good businessman. Knowing your "other me" proves you might as well be honorable too and what hero is not dammed with a savior complex can resist a damsel in distress? It is in your nature to want to influence things to be okay. My parents are friendly with Bruce therefore making things more appealing for the situation. I had the perfect leverage, the perfect candidate, and now I just need the perfect situation. So, lucky me when you bumped into me"

"You mean when you bumped into me?" he asked and she glared at him. "Careful, pretty boy," she said, and the way she said it caused chills to go down his spine.

"Any more questions, perhaps about my clean histoy and my best friend's not so clean image?"

Tim looked at her and she gestured to his laptop.

"What do you have to hide?" ha asked leaning foward.

"Wouldn't you like to know? Next question." she smiled as she also leaned forward in her seat. "What's our story?" he asked looking down at her lips, a little bit stained by the wine she had been drinking. Tempting

"Well, that's why I'm here huh, detective?" That nickname shouldn't have had the effect it did on him, but God, he wanted to hear those words from her again. "Show me why Red Robin is the world's greatest mind, second to Batman's only," she said leaning back and taking a sip of her glass once again.

"World's greatest detective, not mind, and some would say I have surpassed Batman, get it right," he said as he repeated her words in the end. "We need cero plotholes, so much so that it has to be so good that not even my family can find them. We are after all a family of detectives"

"Amazing" she said, sitting up straight, her entire focus solely on him.

"We both went to GA, so that's a starting point, we may not even have to lie. We met at Gotham Academy a few years back, you crushed on me for some time seeing as I was a year above you, and then forgot about me when I dropped out. Years later, we bump into each other on the street, and sparks fly or whatever the fuck will make the crowd fall in love with us, and then we start from there. Depending on how desperate are our odds, we will explain our timeline, but we have to agree on it before going public. How did you react when your parents told you the news?

"It waaaass..messy. A lot of screaming and crying"

"Then you will tell your parents of how heartbroken you were when they told you because you finally get the chance to be with your one true love and"

"Wait wait wait wait! Why do I have to be the lovesick puppy in this and you the prince charming" she said narrowing her eyes at him.

"Whose the one in dire need of escaping the situation?"

"Who's identity is in danger?"

"Who will be recreating the handmaid's tale?"

"You bitch!" She gasped at his insinuation

"Exactly so, puppy love for you it is. As I was saying, you finally got the chance to be with the love of your life, and the moment you are prepared to tell them, they spring this news onto you. So how dare they. We can coordinate public appearances, photos, family dinners, and posts so that everything will flow perfectly. Finally, once, you are liberated, we coordinate and stage a breakup and you hand me all the information you have on me cause I know you made copies of everything and I will eliminate all. of. it. We will just be another famous couple that got together and broke up and moved on." Tim was satisfied with his work. Y/n looked absolutely amazed by him.

"Wow...and you came up with all of that, that fast?" she said full of wonder. Tim felt a tug in his heart due to her reaction. It had been a long time since he had managed to make someone truly amazed by him in a really long time. He had been so used to being surrounded by skilled detectives, assassins, meta-humans, and aliens, that he forgot how great it felt to simply just be and have someone admire you for it. The little praise-seeking self in the back of his mind was thriving on her admiration. "Yes."

"Fuck...I think I couldn't have ever picked a better partner for this if I tried. Your reputation does you justice, Timothy, you are brilliant." she smiled. Y/n felt relieved. She was soon going to be free from her family's pressure. Another scheme has gone perfectly. She cleared her throat and masked her face once again. "We have to make a contract, establish some ground rules."

"By all means," said Tim. "I am serious. First rule, I get all evidence of my alter ego destroyed once it's over. I am doing this only if that is assured."

"Deal. Second rule, no one, absolutely NO ONE, knows except for the two of us." she said and he nodded, "I agree"

"Third rule, Kissing only happens if the situation requires it," she said. He hadn't noticed she had opened a doc in his laptop and was writing this entire thing down. He hummed in agreeance, too busy admiring her....admiring her...WOOP WOOP! EARTH TO TIM! This is a fake relationship and you are already getting fond of her?!?!??! WAKE UP

"Fourth rule, no feelings. This is strictly professional" he snapped, making her look at him strangely. "I think that was already implied but sure, if you want it written, I'll add it" and turned to his laptop again.

He felt a pit in his stomach. This was professional and besides, he just found her attractive, he can anyone attractive and it doesn't mean anything. Plus she is kind of an asshole. She is blackmailing him into a fake relationship...to save herself from being sold like cattle and forced to marry a creepy man which if he thinks of it maybe it is the best way she saw fit. AND AND she was very rude to him and has quite the attitude..although it is so attractive how she goes head to head with him. Tim was sweating' bullets.

"And done. I added a few things such as we have to have some sort of PDA, and how we might coordinate things. You know, some silly stuff that most people think isn't important but might end up being so. Do you have a printer?" She asked to which he nodded and gestured to his office. She sent the paper to print and went to look for it. Tim took a deep sigh, he just needed to calm down. He just found her attractive and interesting like a new case that needed to be cracked.

"Perfect, I printed two contracts; one for you and one for me. I also took one of your blue pens and signed on both papers, here, sign here and here." After it was done, she had noticed that a few hours had passed. "I should get going. I promised Satine and Clara that I would have dinner with them if they kept the paparazzi off me so that I could get here unbothered and we didn't have any issues." She said as she went for her coat and her purse. "Have a nice night, Timothy"

"Tim"

"Huh?"

"My friends and family call me Tim," he said looking at her.

She smiled softly, "Okay...Timmy, have a good night and get some rest." His heart melted at the fact that she took his nickname and altered it to make it hers. She heard her driver arrive outside and walked towards the door, Tim not so far behind. He noticed she faltered her step a little and looked at him hesitating. "Be....be careful tonight" she said but it was more like a whisper.

Tim nodded, "Thank you, enjoy dinner and get home safe," he told her as she went outside and went to her car. He stayed there until she got in the car and it began moving.

As she left, Y/n unfolded the contract from her purse and read the last rule...no feelings...

"you are going to be trouble.." she said fighting off a tiny smile and thinking of the handsome boy with the sharp quips, magnificent brain, and gorgeous blue eyes.

"What was that, miss Vanderbilt?" asked Donnie, her driver.

"Oh, it's nothing, Don. We are headed to L'amico, I'm meeting the girls for dinner," she said sweetly and her driver nodded.

Author's note: What do you think of their dynamic? Liking it so far? Feel free to give me any feedback you'd like.