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ghost-proofbaby · 10 months

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twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn

→ warnings: strong language, smut (oral, f receiving), overload of cheesiness, upside down does not exist, minors dni

→ wc: 11.8k+

→ a/n: this might be the cheesiest, fluffiest thing i've ever written, and i can't even be bothered to care. it might be unrealistic. it might be too much. i do not care. this has been a long time coming and i think we all deserve all the cheese after this story.

i don't even know what to say besides thank you. thank you to everyone who followed along from the beginning, to those of you joined the journey along the way, to those of you who are reading as we finish it up. thank you for all the support and love you guys have shown this fic. i will always, always, appreciate it more than i know how to say. i love these idiots, and i love you all.

if you would like to see this story continued through small blurbs, my ask box is officially open to requests from this universe. i will also probably be posting some "beyond the hours" content over the next few weeks.

thank you. i love you.

without further ado...

masterlist.

spotify playlist.

EPILOGUE: A BET

TWO MONTHS LATER

“Why are there so many fuckin’ options?”

Eddie stares at the line up of smartphones before him, all different models and different physical sizes, different colors and different memory amounts.

“There’s not that many,” you murmur, wrapping your arms around him from behind as you rest your chin on his shoulder. It’s a bit of a stretch, making you lean up onto your tippy toes, “Besides, isn’t having options a good thing?”

He scoffs as he brings a hand up subconsciously to where your arms overlap on his torso, grip gentle as he runs a thumb over your skin and gives a squeeze, “Sure, options are great. But there’s at least twenty different iPhones on display here, sweetheart.”

The last few months had been interesting, to say the least. A new and exciting journey initially, but also a fairly stressful ordeal given all the hoops you two had been jumping through. You’re both busy people, having to suddenly figure out how to carve out a specific space for each other amongst bustling lives. It wasn’t the same as making time for friends or a weekly night out; it was figuring out times for dates, times for lazy afternoons, times for just you and just Eddie.

And, occasionally, time to take Eddie shopping for a new phone. Finally.

“Well, better pick one fast,” your fingers dig into his side playful, and he blows out an annoyed breath as he side-eyes you. You only retaliate in a fast peck to his cheek before whispering in his ear, “We’re gonna be late if you keep taking all day.”

It was Argyle’s birthday party tonight. His actual birthday wasn’t for another week, but he’d be venturing back home to California for that. And so the group elected to throw him a preemptive party at one of the group’s favorite bars.

Which — fine. Awesome. You were excited, you really were: you loved Argyle, you loved your friends, you even found yourself warming back up to parties.

But your friends didn’t know.

Two whole months, and neither you nor Eddie had told a single soul of what had become between you two. Not even Steve. Not even Nancy.

At first the excuse was to give this time to grow, to find your footing before you brought your lovable yet rambunctious group of friends into the equation. But then you two had found your footing, and you’d worried what they would say. Eddie had nearly made himself sick with anxiety over Nancy finding out he’d kept this relationship from her. They’d support you two — that wasn’t a worry. They’d proven that since the first time the entire group had hung out after the bet.

“So,” Robin started, narrowing her eyes at you and Eddie sitting on opposite ends of her and Steve’s couch. Neither of you had said a word to each other yet (Plenty had already been said that morning as you’d snuck him out of your dorm), “You two really aren’t together?”

“Why is everyone so adamant that the bet has to end with us getting together?” you jeered.

Eddie didn’t help the cause when he was quick to take your side, “Exactly! The bet’s over. We lasted twenty four hours. We’re friends now — isn’t that what you guys wanted?”

“I actually wanted to help you dudes plan a winter wedding,” Argyle chimed from the kitchen where he was retrieving a coke, “So I’m gonna side with Birdie on this one.”

“Of course you are,” you muttered beneath your breath.

Everything in you ached to be sitting next to Eddie rather than so far. You ached for his arm around you, his lips pressed to your temple. Just to share body heat, even — innocent thighs brushing with layers of denim between would have been enough.

“It’ll happen eventually,” Nancy mused from her seat on the kitchen counter, Jonathan beside her and matching her confident energy with a sly grin, “Just give them time.”

What they hadn’t realized is that it already did happen. The moment Eddie showed up to your dorm and the two of you said to Hell with space, it was inevitable.

Now, it was just the challenge of letting your friends in on the secret.

“What about the red one?” Eddie asks you as you finally unravel from him.

“Of course you’re choosing the red one.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he scowls, no malice behind it as you step up to occupy the space next to him, brushing shoulders for only a moment before his hand is grabbing yours, intertwining fingers like second nature.

You recall that moment on his balcony, where he had once been so nervous and hesitant to hold your hand.

“Nothing,” you shake your head, smiling to yourself as you look at the specific model he was talking about, “You’re just getting a little bit predictable, Munson.”

He opens his mouth to argue, to nip back at what you always offer him, when one of the salesmen approach you two.

“Hi folks! Can I help you with anything today?”

Eddie squeezes your hand, no doubt in an effort to withhold his laughter at the man’s overly chirpy tone. You squeeze back, if for nothing more than to let him know you felt him.

Despite Eddie’s previous claim to a decision, he still chooses to entertain the man. Asking questions about different models, inquiring for recommendations as if they’d change his mind. They go back and forth, both polite enough, but the conversation easily bores you. In five seconds flat, your mind has officially wandered off.

You two hadn’t really discussed the specific details of the night to come. Whether you’d ride with Eddie there, how you’d navigate Eddie’s natural born clinginess once he got a few drinks in him, if tonight might be the night to finally tell your friends.

The last one felt a bit obvious. It was Argyle’s night — you didn’t want to snatch the attention from him for even a second.

But there were layers to your anxiety. Because it was more than just how to navigate how you two would display yourselves to your friends on nights out.

It had been two months, and you still hadn’t said those three little words back to Eddie.

He didn’t pressure you. He never once brought it back up, never once pressured you. But just because he wasn’t constantly reminding you vocally that he loved you didn’t mean you didn’t feel it. You’d felt it, impossible to miss, when all those lazy morning fantasies became reality. You felt it during movie marathons and you felt it every time he’d worship your body. It was there — in the late nights, in the early mornings, in the dull afternoons. A wild thing unleashed in your gardens, all those vines you’d worked so hard to see flourish threatened to be torn up by impatient claws at the feeling growing rapidly in your chest every time you looked at him.

And slowly, surely, you knew that there was only so much longer that like could suffice in describing your feelings for Eddie.

You were falling, whether he was aware or not. You just needed to figure out the right moment for those three little words to unstick, to go from hot honey on your tongue to easy breaths between you two. He’s given you time, he’d filled the months you’d awarded him with making up for every previously bitter exchange, and yet you still couldn’t give him this. And you’re starting to believe maybe that’s why you couldn’t imagine telling your friends yet.

You sort of hated yourself for it.

You’re pulled back to reality once the salesman departs, no doubt into the back to grab Eddie’s choice of phone. You don’t even have to ask; you know he got the red one.

“Hey,” Eddie fully turns to you, bringing your knuckles to his lips in chaste kisses. Your stomach still kicks with flutters, your heart still warms at the gesture. Eddie’s affection has yet to lose novelty, “Where’d you go?”

“What do you mean?” you twist your face, “I was here the entire tim-“

“Not where’d you physically go,” he clarifies, letting your conjoined hands drop back to the sliver of space between your bodies, “Mentally. Where’d your mind just go?”

You hadn’t thought he’d notice your drifting.

“Nowhere,” you shrug off.

“Nowhere? So you’re really just that interested in the newest iPhone model?”

He pointedly looks up at the widescreen display you don’t doubt you’d been blankly staring at the entirety of his conversation with the man who had yet to return.

“Oh, absolutely. You know me so well.”

All bark, no bite. These days, all the previous venom that had infected exchanges with Eddie prior to the bet had finally been sucked clean from the wound, long gone to make room for all the genuine affection to seep into its place. You still argued — or perhaps bantered was a better word for it — but you didn’t fight. You both still grated on one another’s nerves and managed to slither beneath the other’s skin, but not in an unwelcome way.

It was a nice change.

It made you hate yourself even more for not saying those three little words.

Eddie seemingly reads your mind, “Are you nervous for tonight?”

“I-“ you consider lying to him and saying it hadn’t even crossed your mind, but the look he gives you warns against it, “We just haven’t… discussed it.”

“What’s there to discuss?”

You hold up your interlocked hands for emphasis, raising your eyebrows at Eddie.

His mouth falls open softly, eyes widening, “Oh. Are you- Are you wanting to tell them tonight?”

No, your gut screams, absolutely not tonight.

“Is Argyle’s birthday party really the best time to explode their minds?”

You try to keep your tone teasing as you sense Eddie’s own nerves creeping up. Sometimes it was fun, standing in a room with everyone and pretending to be more akin to strangers than lovers. But sometimes, it was just plain painful. Sometimes, the entire group would be laughing at something, and you craved nothing more than to be pressed into Eddie’s side and feel the vibrations of his shared joy rather than just having to listen to it from across the room.

It’s not that you wanted to tell your friends and cause a scene — you just didn’t want to have to hide anymore. And maybe you wouldn’t have to, if you’d just tell him how you felt.

“Probably not,” Eddie murmurs, “I mean, it’s his night. We can always tell them the next time we all get together.”

The issue is that’s what the two of you always say. You always brush it off for the next time.

You can only sigh in defeat as you see the salesman finally bounding back out from the back room, a small box holding Eddie’s purchase in his grip, “Yeah. Next time.”

You can’t even be mad at next time. It’s the same thing you tell yourself every time you felt those words on the tip of your tongue, so close yet so far from revealing the most terrifying truth you’d discovered yet to Eddie.

You let go of his hand long enough for him to check out, hardly overhearing when he questions how they can transfer all the data from his current flip phone. When he seems particularly worried about pictures transferring, you don’t think anything of it.

—

STEVE-O: do i need to pick you up tonight?

You don’t see the text. You’re a bit busy with something when it comes through.

Something is currently still between your legs, curls threaded between your fingers as your back arches off his mattress and his name starts to come out as a desperate whimper rather than a chant.

STEVE-O: ???

The initial buzz of your phone on his nightstand doesn’t phase either of you. Eddie’s tongue still works you eagerly, circling your clit as you tug particularly harshly at his roots. Each flick sends white hot pleasure through your bones, nearly making you see stars.

“Fuck,” you gasp out when he brings his fingers into the mix. You can feel his smile against you as he curls his fingers inside of you, mimicking a come hither motion and relishing in your little pants as your thighs tighten around his shoulders, “Oh, fuck. Right there, Eddie. I- Eddie.”

The way you’re moaning his name only encourages him as he slips in a second finger, stretching you further. You feel cool metal bumping your entrance, sending shocks up your spine as his lips suction against you and he sucks hard.

He hadn’t even taken the time to remove his rings when the two of you had gotten home. He had been too eager, dragging you to his bedroom with his lips attached to your neck from the moment he’d shut the front door behind the two of you until he’d thrown you down on his bed.

“That’s right, baby,” his voice vibrates against your clit, “Say my name. Tell everyone who’s making you feel this goo-“

STEVE-O: helllooooo????

“Okay, who the fuck keeps texting you?” Eddie finally pulls back when he realizes you’re slipping out of that bubble he’d created, your head having turned towards the nightstand in curiosity, “Let me guess, it’s your other boyfriend?”

Your head is still spinning and your chest continues to heave from that lingering pleasure he’d been offering so generously to you. He sounds annoyed, but you can guarantee you’re even more irked.

“I don’t have another boyfriend,” you blandly reply, not taking his bait.

It only makes him wrap his hands around your thighs on his shoulder, giving a playful squeeze as you reach out for your phone.

“You sure?”

You squint at the notifications, but don’t properly read them, only rolling your eyes at both the fact that Steve’s the one interrupting this precious moment and at Eddie’s valiant teasing.

You slam the phone back down, eyes trailing down to his, “I am, but I can certainly find another boyfriend if you don’t get your mouth back on me in the next three seconds-“

He doesn’t need a second warning. In an instant, the warmth of his tongue is back on you, lapping at all the spots he’s come to memorize as of recently. That pleasure comes back into reach, edging your vision with feathery black as your eyes flutter shut and the coil in your stomach tightens.

You throw your head back into one of his pillows, one that has started to smell like your shampoo now rather than his, and let a drawn out whine escape your lips.

“You were saying?” he teases, grinning wickedly. He takes that brief moment to come up for air, turning and sinking his teeth into the soft flesh of your thigh beside his cheek. Not hard enough to draw blood, and probably not hard enough to leave indents. But it is enough to have you preening once more as your heels dig into his bare back and you try to lift your hips, desperate for his mouth again.

He was edging you. Without even meaning to, he was repeatedly bringing you to the edge only to leave you teetering.

With your focus back on him, you can admire how pretty he looks. Mouth slick with you, pupils blown out, hair an absolute mess. You like him best this way, you think, when he looks so absolutely devoted to you. When he’s looking at you with a hunger you almost can’t place. It makes you want to scream from the rooftops about how you’ve fallen for him. How you feel so much more than like for your boy.

STEVE-O: seriously. if you don’t respond, you can just walk. you have five minutes.

At the buzz of the phone, your hands leave Eddie’s hair to form fists, pounding them into the mattress at your side in a brief tantrum. He ceases all actions, pulling his lips away from you again, and it only makes you pout more.

“Baby,” he coos, fingers trailing up the sides of your thighs before he reaches out to hold your fists down, “Maybe you should answer him. Tell him to fuck off-“

Eddie’s interrupted as your phone fully bursts to life with your ringtone.

You were going to kill Steve Harrington.

“On second thought, let me answer it,” Eddie groans as you reach out and grab it once more, “Give the fucker a piece of my mind.”

“Shut up,” you hiss as you realize it’s Robin calling. You turn the screen so he can see, and his eyebrows lift in surprise.

He makes no move to remove himself from between your legs, though. He stays face to face with your aching core.

“Hello?” you snap after swiping to answer.

“Finally! My God, Steve’s been texting you-“

“I didn’t see the texts.”

“Do you need a ride?”

“Nope.”

You’ve never been so short with your friends.

But that pleasure is slipping from you, the flames of your impending orgasm dying down to nothing more than embers. It’s enough to piss anyone off.

“Are you sure?” Robin asks, sounding genuinely concerned, “It’s kind of a far walk-“

“I’m running late,” you sigh, realizing that you were going to have to come up with a lie to get off the hook. Another thing you hated about the hiding — it led to your friendships being littered with dishonesty. Always a new excuse as to why you weren’t available, always feigning reasons as to why you didn’t reply to texts as timely as you used to. “With getting ready. I could- I don’t know, do you think Eddie might pick me up? Isn’t my dorm along the way to the bar from his place?”

At the mention of his name, he perks up. His cheek settles against the exact spot he had bit just moments before, nearly nuzzling into you as your free hand comes down to gently push back his bangs. On instinct, you find yourself soothingly pressing your fingertips in slow circles against his scalp. You’re nearly melting beneath his soft gaze, those big and wide eyes locked on you with bated breath.

“You want Eddie to pick you up?” you suddenly hear Steve exclaim in the background.

Your face scrunches up, a wrinkle forming across the bridge of your nose and between your brows. It’s so damn cute to Eddie that he can’t help but press a quick kiss to the skin he continues to lay into, beginning to smile as your absent-minded head massage continues.

So much more than like.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know I was on speaker.”

“Why do you want Munson to pick you up?” Steve ignores your sarcasm, voice sounding closer to the phone now, “He drives a motorcycle, you know. That’s dangerous.”

Eddie must be able to catch some of Steve’s shrill exclamation, his eyebrows raising ever so slightly. You feel his curious hum against your skin and you don’t hesitate putting your own pesky friends on speaker.

“Motorcycles are not that dangerous,” you retort, and it makes Eddie have to hide a slight scoff into your thigh in an effort to stay silent. It was ironic that they cared about how safe it would be for you to ride with Eddie on his bike now, after that allegedly dangerous vehicle had been your main source of transportation for nearly two months now, “He has a helmet, right?”

“Isn’t your dorm the opposite direction of the bar from his place?” Robin questions, “I mean, I’m all for you asking lover boy if he’ll give you a ride but-”

Steve interrupts her flatly, “It’s making him go out of his way. Besides, he might have already left for the bar by now.”

You don’t know what to silently laugh at first. The assumption they were making that couldn’t be further from the truth, or Robin’s new nickname for Eddie.

Lover boy is fitting for him in this current position. He’s still latching onto your leg, cuddling you in every way he could from where he laid, staring at you and hanging onto your every last word. The poster boy for pathetically in love, he gives your leg another kiss, starting a fiery trail with his lips until he reaches your knee. It pangs in your chest, wondering if he can see your feelings also painted so obviously across your face.

“Steve,” you murmur, breath catching in your throat as Eddie’s lips linger in the ditch of your knee. It takes a second to remember you’re on the phone, “No offense, but Eddie hasn’t been on time to a single get together the entire time I’ve known him.”

Eddie reacts in real time to your insult, forcing an over-exaggerated offended look before he bites you again. This time, his teeth do leave an imprint from his nip, and it makes you slap a hand over your mouth to avoid yelping.

Don’t bite me, you mouth at him.

Don’t be mean, he answers right back, silent as ever.

“Technically we’re all already late,” Steve points out. It makes you sit up quickly, startling Eddie in the process. You squint at the clock across the room and- fuck. Steve was right, “Nancy just texted me that she and Jon are there, Argyle’s on his way. She said she tried texting Eddie but didn’t get any response,” there’s a long pause as you motion wildly for Eddie to get up with you, the boy watching as you fling yourself off his mattress and carry the phone with you to his dresser, “Have… you heard from him recently?”

“Why are you saying it like that?” you jab, throwing open one of the drawers Eddie had cleared out for you to keep some clothes here in his apartment. At this point, a good chunk of the tuition you paid was going to waste considering the fact you rarely spent the night at your dorm. You were already half moved into Eddie’s space.

You try not to think too hard about it, because just last week, you’d had a panic attack at the revelation.

You were afraid of smothering him, even if he was the one always insisting you could leave more of your things here. He was always the one conning you into spending another night, promising soft murmurs of giving you a ride to class the next morning if you did. You rarely ever had much of the choice in the matter; once he’d wrap his arms around your waist, curl his body flush against yours, it was always game over.

Practically living together, and you still hadn’t said those words back to him.

“I’m not saying it like anything!” Steve defends himself, “I’m just asking an innocent question!” Eddie’s snort this time is audible, and you freeze as Steve clearly mistakes it for your laughter, “Shut up. It’s a reasonable question. You guys are friends now, remember?”

Friends. Of course, because all your friends jumped at the chance to bury their mouths against your cunt and make you cum repeatedly until you had tears streaming down your cheeks. Because you let all your friends sleep in the same bed as you, and wake you up by burying deep within you as they bite your shoulder with a moan. You and Eddie were friends.

“Trust me,” you glance over your shoulder in your haste, looking at Eddie as he stretches out on his side and props himself up on his elbow, “I remember.”

He gives you a knowing smile, squinting his eyes at you in entertainment.

“Babe, it really would just be easier for you to ride with us,” Robin’s voice sounds again as you tug a shirt out of the drawer, something casual and comfortable that you could style for the night, “Unless you’re just hellbent on having alone time with Eddie for some reason-”

“I’m not hellbent on being alone with him, Robs.”

Another lie. I definitely am. But not in the context you think.

“You just sound like you are.”

“Well, I’m not,” you yank a pair of black jeans free from the drawer and slam it shut, standing and turning to Eddie.

He hardly has time to react before you’re tossing your phone down on the mattress in front of him, the small device bouncing and hitting his chest. He winces and throws himself back dramatically, letting out a small oof that you pray neither Robin or Steve pick up on.

As you dress, throwing on the random t-shirt and shimmying on your jeans, Robins laughs, “Denial isn’t a good look on you.”

Eddie watches you, never moving to get ready himself. All he does is stare as you button up the pants.

When you give him an expectant look, he merely mouths, bra?

You shake your head. You don’t know where Eddie had flung your undergarment, and you’re not in the mood to frantically search for it. You’ve gone without a bra before – you can survive one night out without one.

Eddie’s entire face and chest immediately flushes pink. Cute.

“Now you guys are just being assholes,” you scowl despite the fact that only Eddie can see it, waving your hands to motion for him to get up and also get dressed, “I’m texting Eddie. If he has already left, I’ll just walk. Fuck you guys.”

“Tell lover boy I said hi,” Robin teases.

“Even if he’s already parked at the fucking bar at this point, we both know he’d jump right back on his bike and come pick you up,” Steve’s voice grumbles over the line.

It almost makes you smile. “Someone sounds jealous.”

“Not jealous, just annoyed,” Steve corrects as Eddie finally stands from the bed, “When are you two going to get your shit together?”

“What do you mean?” you play dumb.

You’ve had this conversation with your friends multiple times. They were truly going to have your head once they realized what you’d been keeping from them for months now.

“Don’t you have a 4.0 GPA?” Robin inserts herself back into the conversation, “You can’t possibly be this stupid.”

Eddie pauses in his fumbling with pulling his jeans from the pile he’d left his clothes in at the end of the beg, face scrunching in silent laughter. You almost walk over and smack his bare back angled towards you.

“First of all, no. I don’t have a 4.0 GPA. Thanks for the reminder,” you grab your phone back off of the bed and decide to leave Eddie behind in the room, heading into the bathroom to finish getting ready. You hate to admit it, but if you have to keep watching him giggle so cutely to himself, you’ll also probably break. And you aren’t in the mood for any further interrogation from Robin and Steve, “Second of all, I’m hanging up now. I’m going to call Eddie. At least he won’t be such a dick to me.”

“Oh, you must see the irony there-”

You cut Steve off, “Bye! See you in… like, ten minutes.”

Once you’ve hung up, you put your phone down on the bathroom counter and look up into the mirror. Your hair is a mess, wild and tangled from all the writhing you had been doing before being so rudely interrupted. You give it your best effort, trying to tame it a little bit to look more presentable, but it’s a lost cause at this point. Fuck it.

Eddie appears in the doorway behind you, fully dressed and his hair pulled back into a bun, leaning into the door frame with his arms crossed and an impish grin on display, “Oh, you’re going to call me now, sweetheart?”

You glare at him in a jocosely manner through the reflection, “Don’t look so proud of yourself.”

He pushes off the frame and comes up behind you, still locking his eyes only through the reflection as he leans his chin over your shoulder, “And what if I don’t want to give you a ride? You have been awfully mean – insulting my punctuality, throwing your phone at me, teasing me by going without a bra. The list goes on and on.”

Something deep within you stirs, those embers that still ache to burst into a forest fire. You hate that you could easily spend the entire night here with him, letting him take you every which way between his sheets. And even without sinful actions involved, you would be plenty content with just his presence tonight. As a matter of fact, you might be more content with that outcome rather than heading out to see your friends.

Sorry Argyle, you think guiltily.

“I’m teasing you?” you question just as his hands land on your hips, moving so that he was pressed firmly against the curve of your ass. Making sure you could feel how hard he was against the seam of his jeans’ zipper, “You didn’t even make me cum.”

“Seems like we’ll both be spending the night frustrated, then,” he smiles, almost gleefully, almost devilishly, “Besides, that was technically Harrington’s fault, not mine. We both know I usually have no problems making you cum on my tongue – without interruptions, of course.”

He rolls his hips ever so slightly into you, and your mouth falls open, eyes going glossy as you continue to stare him down through the mirror. The stirring in your abdomen is persistent now as your heart hammers against your ribs, mind melting and completely forgetting the obligation at hand.

And Eddie knows this. He’s well aware of the effect he’s having on you, and it’s deliberate.

Suddenly, his body completely pulls away from yours, “I’ll meet you downstairs. Don’t want to keep them waiting any longer, do we, sweetheart?”

Damn him. Damn him, and damn his dimples, and damn how good his legs look in those jeans as he’s walking away from me right now.

You linger in the apartment, alone, for a few extra minutes to compose yourself. Trying to quelch the heat between your hips that had slowly spread across your entire body, threatening to consume you. You even go as far as to splash cool water across your cheeks, giving yourself a few smacks for good measure as you try to prepare yourself to go into public and put on the usual act. And beneath it all, you also hush the animal in your chest, the one that claws at you to tell him. The one that wails everytime you simply tell him you like him, the one that roars when you let another moment slip you by. It has to quiet, just as your flames need to settle, all for the sake of the act.

You deserve a goddamn Oscar at this point.

After deciding that touching up your makeup would take up far too many precious seconds, you’re darting out of Eddie’s apartment, locking up behind yourself before you head down to where he’s waiting. He’s already straddling his parked bike, the engine roaring to life like the animal inside you as you exit the main doors of the building and his hands extend his only helmet. You don’t fight him on who’s going to wear it – that’s a battle, you’ve learned, you will always lose.

We really need to just buy a second helmet.

The thought makes you smile as you hold the clunky thing. Buying a second helmet. Something Eddie had never done before, because he had never had a regular passenger before. He had never had someone glued to his side as you had become, not even Nancy. It sounds terribly domestic; perusing aisles with him, debating which helmet fits your style best. He’d probably make a joke about your head being big. He’d probably tease you for looking at the ridiculously expensive ones and tell you to opt for a cheaper one. You’d probably end up with a pricier one in the cart regardless, and Eddie would probably refuse to let you pay for it.

Domesticity. The image of it doesn’t ache like it had that night all those months ago. This isn’t something you yearn for hopelessly, smoke and mirrors that dissipate when you dare to reach out for it. It’s something finally in your grasp. Something tangible and something bound to happen, all you’d have to do is say the word and Eddie would comply eagerly.

Anything to keep my girl safe, as he would tell you any time you pointed out how dangerous it was for him to go without a helmet. He’d gotten creative in saying his own version of those three little words.

“M’lady,” he hums, nodding for you to put the helmet on before sweeping a hand over the empty space in the seat behind him, “Your chariot awaits.”

You don’t have a snarky quip to throw back at him, only grinning at the ground as you flip the helmet around a few times to prepare to put it on. All those embers aren’t just desire for him – there’s a warmth there that always exists. A candle on the windowsill of the home you had finally found.

You raise the clunky thing and tilt your head when Eddie suddenly says, “Oh, and babe?”

Immediately, you lower it, eyes wide in curiosity, “What?”

“That’s my shirt.”

“What?”

He motions to the t-shirt tucked carefully into your jeans, “That fine shirt you are currently wearing is mine.”

You look down, and he’s right. It’s too late to go back inside to change, and you know he’s aware of this when you catch his amused smirk. He probably noticed the moment you had put it on, and had deliberately waited until it was too late for you to do anything about it to inform you.

Bastard.

“I-” you pinch the fabric between your fingers, looking between it and Eddie wildly for a second before your shoulders slumped in defeat, “It’s fine. I doubt they’ll even notice.”

—

You were wrong. They do notice.

Everyone is already waiting inside for the two of you, nestled around a table in the bar in a similar arrangement to the very first night you’d been introduced to the group. There’s only two empty seats left conveniently, right next to each other. You don’t miss that mischievous look of success on Robin’s face as she looks overly proud of herself.

They’d set it up so we’d sit next to each other.

You’re grateful for your friends’ antics until you go to take the empty seat next to Steve.

“Is that Eddie’s shirt?”

Robin is leaning around Steve eagerly as she says it, ridiculing the shirt intensely.

“What?” you laugh nervously, looking down and tugging at the fabric.

Lie. Make up a lie. Make it good.

“That is Eddie’s shirt,” Nancy looks surprised across the table, looking up at the two of you questioningly.

“What?” you repeat yourself. Eddie has already taken his seat, and is avoiding the stares of everyone, “No, it’s not.”

“He has one just like it,” Jonathan adds fuel to the fire, “He literally wore it - what? Two days ago?”

In a pathetic attempt of an excuse, you plop down in your seat and force an offended look, “People can own the same shirt. He’s not the gatekeeper of-” you look down, and nearly erupt in embarrassment when you see what the shirt is. “Deftones.”

Ah, fuck.

It’s not just the embarrassment of being on the verge of getting caught in your lie – it’s the memories that flood back. You, on Eddie’s lap. Your mouth and his becoming one. Steve calling, and you sucking so innocently on Eddie’s neck.

Fuck.

You really wish Steve and Robin hadn’t interrupted earlier.

“It’s not like I got it at a show,” Eddie shrugs, and you wonder for a moment if he’s lying, “They’ve gotten more popular lately. I’ve seen their shit in Target.”

“Exactly!” you exclaim a little too loudly, a little too quick to defend yourself, “Exactly. I just thought it looked cool at Target. Besides, tonight is about Argyle.”

You smile at the birthday boy, and he returns the joy as he waves a little at you. The reminder is all it takes for everyone’s attention to return to the focus of the night – everyone’s attention but Nancy’s.

You can feel her eyes on you as conversation sparks up and debates of ordering shots begin. Everyone is busy asking Argyle what his plans for next weekend are – which are mostly composed of normal family gatherings, probably a homemade cake, etc. – but Nancy is watching you and Eddie like a hawk. In the peripheral of your eye, you watch the way she leans back so casually into Jonathan's around her shoulder, looking like she knows. You’re probably just being paranoid. You’re definitely just being paranoid.

You try to ignore it, and instead let yourself just enjoy the moment. All your friends gathered, a group in which you finally feel like you belong to, jokes being made and laughter being exchanged that has you feeling a bit giddy. It’s nice. Even between the smoke of the room and the flickering lights overhead, murmuring chatter of nearby patrons mingling right in with your group’s noise, it’s homely. The smell of drunken cigars and fruity cocktails should be overwhelming, but you just let it wrap you up instead.

And when you turn your head, inhaling deeply the smell of cinnamon and musk rather than all those other foreign anomalies, you find Eddie already looking at you. Soft eyes, bitten grin, a few loose curls framing his cheeks as his bangs curl up into his forehead. Even in the shoddy lighting, he takes your breath away.

He’s looking at you. Just like that first night. Dozens of other people in this room at this moment, and he only has eyes for one – he only has eyes for you.

“So!” Argyle announces, “I think, my dudes, instead of doing what Birdie had so… excitedly suggested,” and oh, he was being generous and calling Robin suggesting he took twenty three shots for his twenty third birthday just her being excited rather than foolish, “We should just take the twenty three shots and split them up amongst the group.”

Steve and Jonathan immediately groan, protesting how they’re driving, and Eddie only shakes his head with a chuckle. So far, he’d only ordered and been nursing on a plain coke, no whiskey.

Somehow, sitting beside him with the group is worse than keeping distance.

When he’d taken off his jacket, you’d silently begged for him to rest an arm across the back of your chair just as Jonathan was doing to Nancy. And he had, almost too naturally before he’d caught himself. It would have been easier to play off cooly, probably would have gone unnoticed, but your boy had practically jumped out of his bones as he’d flinched and tucked his arm back into himself suddenly. He’d even bumped his elbow against his own seat in his haste.

And Nancy had noticed.

“That’s only three shots per person!” Argyle defends, “Four for me, since you know – birthday boy.”

While Eddie may be avoiding alcohol tonight, you aren’t. Not unusual, but it had been odd when Eddie had told the waitress your order of an amaretto sour rather than you telling her yourself.

Another strike. Another thing Nancy had noticed with her watchful eye.

“I’m down,” you shrug, “Hell, I’ll even take an extra shot if those two dumbasses won’t.”

“Is that a good idea?”

You wish Eddie had been drinking to excuse his idiocracy. Because all it takes is him saying that, not with malice but with concern, and the look on Nancy’s face told you she was officially catching on.

He hadn’t said it with the concern of a friend prepared to warn against drinking yourself sick. He’d said it with the concern of someone who would be taking care of you by the end of the night, of someone who would be dealing with the aftermath of that many shots.

You two were bombing this whole secrecy, to put it lightly.

You try to save the moment but laughing it off, turning to him slightly and teasing, “What, are you my keeper now?”

Despite your best efforts, the statement doesn’t come across as friendly banter. It’s not quite fighting either. It’s a dare, you dangling something in Eddie’s face that no one else at this table quite sees. A stupid, idiotic continuation of your flirtatious game of cat and mouse from earlier in the apartment, when he’d deliberately gotten you hot and bothered. When he’d deliberately let you leave in his shirt. His palm is warm when he shifts ever so slightly, placing it on your thigh beneath the table. Out of sight from everyone else. Fueling and fanning all your growing flames.

You two were toeing a very dangerous line tonight.

His eyes darken a bit, and you pray no one else notices in the dim bar lighting, “I don’t know, am I?”

Everyone is distracted enough with your idea. Steve and Jonathan were agreeing, saying they could take one shot and then others in the group could shoulder the extras. Robin was quick to also say she’ll take an extra one. But Nancy is silent, watching your quiet exchange with Eddie.

“I don’t think you are, Munson.”

Except he is. Without a single doubt in your bones, you know that he is.

Your playful smile betrays you. It tugs up the corners of your mouth and it’s clear to any outsider this wasn’t a brewing argument. The game was obvious if anyone was watching close enough. And Nancy, ever the smart one, was watching close enough.

She’s playing her cards right, you realize, when she waits until the group has ordered the round of shots to say anything.

“So, Eddie,” she begins, drawing the entire group’s attention to her best friend, “Do anything fun today?”

He nearly chokes on his coke subtly. “I- Um-”

“You just didn’t answer any of my texts today,” she continues on, “Must have been busy, yeah?”

Eddie retracts his hand from your thigh, far more elusive in this action than he had been about removing his arm from your chair, before he fiddles with his hands in his lap. “Yeah – no, yeah. Sorry about that, Nance.”

He pulls his phone from his pocket for no apparent reason. The shiny new smartphone, having not even bought a case or screen protector yet. You’d already yelled at him for that, claiming out of everyone, you trust him the least to not break the phone on the first day. He’d only laughed and shut you up with a kiss.

His new phone is placed face down on the table, cherry red glinting, “I just had to go to the mall and-”

“Is that a new phone?” Argyle interrupts him, catching sight of the movement and the glinting, “Oh, holy shit, my dude! That’s a new phone! That is an iPhone if I’ve ever seen one!”

Everyone – Robin, Steve, Jonathan – are rapidly leaning to catch sight of it as if they can’t believe it. Eddie continues to shrink at being the center of attention suddenly.

“It is,” Steve laughs in disbelief, “Never thought I’d see the day, Munson.”

Robin scrunches her face, “Does this mean we have to add him to the group chat?”

You let out a giggle at that, lips pressed to try and contain some of that smile breaking through as you look at him and wiggle your brows. He immediately rolls his eyes, but picks up the phone regardless to give everyone a better look.

“Yes, yes. I’ve finally joined the dark side,” he teases everyone just as the waitress returns with the tray of shots. Jonathan is the only one with enough sense to look away from Eddie’s spectacle, thanking her kindly, “Feast your eyes, my friends, for this is where my five hundred dollars went-”

“Holy shit.”

Nancy’s sudden whisper of an exclamation has everyone freezing. Eddie stops spinning and flipping the phone to show it off, staring at her with nothing but concerned, “What? What happen-”

Nancy shares a look with Robin as they both grin.

Oh no.

“Eddie,” Nancy says slowly, turning her head back his way slowly.

“What?” Eddie frowns, eyes flitting back and forth between Nancy and Robin.

Robin is the one to ask the question rather than Nancy, “What exactly is your lockscreen?”

Eddie goes pale. You’re confused, looking at the phone he’s currently cradling with the screen against his palm.

Did he even change it? Wouldn’t it just be one of the default ones?

“Guys,” you decide to come to his rescue, still impossibly confused, “It’s probably just some default screen, don’t tease him.”

“That was not a default screen,” Nancy laughs out.

Argyle looks around at everyone. Nancy and Robin, both with mischievous glints in their eyes. Eddie, still ghostly white as if he’s been caught red-handed. Steve and Jonathan, both just shrugging at each other. “Uh…. Why do I feel like I’m missing something here?”

“Show the class your lock screen, Eds.”

“Fuck off, Nancy.”

“Oh my God,” Robin coos, leaning across Steve and pressing you back gently to catch sight of Eddie, who’s dipping his face down, “He’s blushing!”

“Guys, leave him alone,” Steve insists, sharing a look with you now. But you have no clue what’s going on.

You have no clue what his lockscreen is.

“Edward Munson, show us that lockscreen right now, or I’m Venmo-requesting five hundred dollars from you,” Robin continues to threaten.

You look away from Steve and at Eddie immediately, leaning in closer to his space. He looks at you, clearly focusing on your presence more than everyone else’s, and smiles like a child trying to get out of trouble.

“Eddie,” you say quietly, almost impossible for your friends to hear, “What the fuck is your lockscreen?”

He slowly and carefully turns the screen towards you, making sure only your eyes can see it, and- oh.

It’s a low quality photo. Clearly taken on his flip phone. Details just a little fuzzy, and the darkness of the photo wasn’t helping. But you can see it clearly. You can make out exactly what it was that had Nancy and Robin losing their minds.

It’s a picture of you and Eddie, with your head on Eddie’s chest.

For a moment, everyone else at the table doesn’t exist. You hadn’t been insane that night – he had taken a photo. A snapshot of the moment where everything had changed. The moment in which you had given up the fight and completely succumbed to just how much Eddie meant to you, how badly you pined for him and how deeply you liked him.

“I was going to make it the one of you at Betty’s,” he whispers, “But, I just- I really liked this photo.”

He’s still tense, as if he expects you to be upset with him.

You’re the farthest thing from upset at him.

“You made me your lockscreen?” you breathe out, a slow-growing smile beginning to stretch your lips.

You’re not upset at him. As a matter of fact, you’re in love with him. You want to scream it from every rooftop, shout it to every stranger on the street – you are in love with Eddie Munson.

And you have been for a while. You just hadn’t found a way to tell him yet.

“Yeah,” he loosens up a little when he realizes you’re happy, enamored with the fact, “Yeah, of course I did. Who else am I going to make it besides my favorite…. Enemy?”

He says it loud enough for everyone to hear clearly. All of Nancy’s teasing has come to a halt, Robin has settled back into her chair, and Steve is finally looking too curious for his own good.

“As birthday boy,” Argyle breaks the moment, shatters away the bubble you and Eddie always seemed to end up in, “I am demanding I get to see this lockscreen.”

Eddie doesn’t make any move to show the screen to any other person, only watching you for approval.

Well, so much for next time.

You give him a little nod.

Eddie makes a dramatic show of it, sighing heavily before he very slowly turns his lockscreen to face everyone else. But even in his dramatics, you can see that weight lifting off his chest.

This, as a matter of fact, changes everything.

No more hiding, no more lying. One simple flash of his phone screen, of a photo he had taken on a night that no one has even been gifted the details of yet, and all your friends suddenly know.

The reactions all vary.

Argyle leans forward and squints before his face breaks out into pure joy for the two of you, “Oh, fuck yes! Best birthday gift ever. Pay up, my dudes!”

Jonathan leans backward, digging out his wallet as he murmurs, “Son of a bitch.”

Steve only smiles and shakes his head, also digging for his wallet as he seemingly chastizes himself, “I should have fucking known.”

“Hold on,” you look between everyone as Jonathan digs out a couple twenties, “Wait, did you guys fucking bet on this?”

“We did,” Robin answers you, holding up a hand to make Jonathan and Steve pause their retrieval of cash, “What do you take us for? Idiots? Now, gentlemen, before either of you payout, we’ve gotta ask the most important question,” she shoves a palm against Steve’s chest so that he’s out of line of sight, gaze set on you and Eddie, “When did this happen?”

You don’t have any time to be mad at your friends. Because when Robin asks you this, suddenly you’re back to two months ago. You’re outside your dorm with Eddie, kissing him as if tomorrow would never be promised, and you’re home.

You pulled back from Eddie finally, both of you gasping for breath as he held you steady. Your exchange from moments before still hung heavy in the air.

You liked him, you liked him, you liked him.

And the feeling was mutual.

You’d already known, but it was nice to hear. It was nice to be reminded that this, what had happened between you two, was so very real.

“I don’t wanna start over,” the words tumbled from your tongue before you could consider them, upheaving from your chest, desperate for Eddie to heard them, “I- I don’t need to start over. I like our story, okay? You had been right – it wasn’t all bad, and… and I don’t want to start over. I never want you to be a stranger again, and I know that sounds stupid-”

“It’s not stupid,” he interrupted you, forehead meeting yours, “So very not stupid.”

“I don’t care if you were a dick,” you continued on, carefully, “I was, too. We were both… shitty. I forgive you. I’ll forgive you a thousand times over, as long as you keep trying to make it up to me.”

“Make it up to you?” he grinned playfully, “And just how do you suggest I start making it up to you?”

“Ask me out,” his eyebrows raised in surprise, and you knew you must have looked like a wild idiot to everyone else, but you didn’t care, “To dinner, to a movie, to just hang around your apartment with you for another twenty four hours – I don’t care. Just… Just please, Munson, ask me out.”

And so he had. A first date, a second date, a third. You two had gone through the entire ordeal of every cliche relationship despite the unconventional beginning. You’d gone to dinner, you’d gone to a movie, and you had done plenty of hanging out around his apartment and more.

“The night of the bet,” Eddie answers as he finally brings an arm up around your shoulders, just as he had wanted to earlier.

Immediately, both Robin and Argyle let out their own curses, pulling out their wallets just as Steve and Jonathan had.

You look between them, all the annoyance you should feel just being run over with adoration for these idiots. Your eyes land on Nancy, and when you realize she’s the only one at the table not coughing up any cash, you ask her, “I’m assuming you guessed correctly?”

“I did,” she nods, looking proud of herself.

“How’d you know?”

Nancy raises a threatening finger, before suddenly pointing it right in Eddie’s direction, “That idiot has always been down bad for you-”

“Okay, okay,” Eddie stops her, “I’ve already told her the nitty gritty details. No need to embarrass me.”

“No need to embarrass you?” Nancy asks in disbelief, “Good God, just how many times did I have to sit and listen to you pine for her? No, no – I have earned this, Munson.”

You look at Eddie, a glint in your eye, “You only told me about the first time.”

“I only remembered the first time,” he counters, blushing under yellow and faded lights, “I was usually dru-”

“Don’t lie,” Nancy stops him, “There were plenty of rants where you were dead sober.”

Everyone only smiles at Eddie, a few teasing comments made his way, but none of them matter as you lean into his side, your shoulder bumping his to the best of your ability with his arm still around you.

“Aw, babe,” you coo, warm all over for the man beside you, “You had a crush on me? That’s cute.”

His chin lowers, eyes boring into yours with unlimited affection. For a moment, it’s just you and Eddie. The guise of you two having your own bubble of a moment.

His head tilts further, his ears brushing your ear as he whispers for just you to hear, “So did you, if I’m not mistaken.”

“Not mistaken,” you whisper back. Money is now being exchanged, tossed across the table with grumbles that hold no heat.

Yeah, you did have a crush on Eddie. You still do. You don’t think you’ll ever stop having a crush on him, even as he’s surrendered himself as yours. Especially not when his thumb is stroking your shoulder as it is now.

Just like that very first night. The smoky bar fades to nothingness, your tunnel vision focused on Eddie. You know jokes are being made about the two of you by your friends, but it’s all white noise when he’s looking at you like this. Like you’re everything to him, like he’s just returned home after a long week.

You’d really like to be his home to return to after every long week, for the rest of your lives, but there’ll be time to ponder on that later. For now, you two have time.

The voice inside your head suddenly comes to life as it recognizes that this is your moment. You can tell him. Now that you’ve told everyone else, you can tell him those three words. Finally get them off your chest. Make it real.

“Hey, Munson,” you say, still quiet enough for the words to only reach his ears. He perks up, eager to drink your next words. You have all his attention. You always have all his attention, “I-” and then you choke. He stares curiously for a few seconds, and the words just won’t come out. You want to scream – you wonder if it would work if you screeched the three words at the top of your lungs. Probably not, “I’m just really glad you didn’t really hate me,” a pathetic excuse at a coverup, “And… I’m really glad they made that first bet.”

He smiles so softly, it strikes you right in the center of your chest. Right amongst your garden that not only had you tended for him, but that he had also had a hand in watering these last few months.

You should have told him. You love him, and you should have told him.

“I’m really glad I didn’t hate you, too,” he remarks, squeezing your shoulder a little tighter, “Actually, I’m glad you don’t hate me. Not anymore, at least.”

“I never really did.”

“You definitely sort of did. You tried to take me out with a glass, remember?”

You burst into secluded laughter, hearing your friends beginning to pass around the shots but paying them no mind.

Eddie can’t help it. He pulls you in close, placing an impulsive kiss to your temple and letting his lips linger there. Just pressed against you, breathing in the scent of you.

That kiss sends shivers down your spine, warmth through the center of your bones. You love him.

You love him, you love him, you love him.

So why can’t you just tell him that?

“Aw!” Robin pulls the two out of your bubble, “Aren’t they just adorable?”

“Yes, yes,” Steve passes two shot glasses down to your end of the table, “Absolutely adorable. It’s nauseating. Also, I’d like to go on record – I totally knew the entire time. I was just giving them the benefit of the doubt.”

“Playing the Devil’s advocate?” Argyle asks, lining up his multiple shots, “I dig it. Even though you’re totally lying right now.”

“You’re so lucky it’s your birthday, dude,” Steve rolls his eyes, clearly holding back an insult.

Eddie’s arm stays heavy on you, a welcome weight as you sit up straighter to take your own several shots.

These were your friends. Somewhere you belonged, filled with people you loved and a boy you could come home to after all your long weeks. A certain happiness that is rare, and impossible to place, and can nearly bring you to tears overwhelms you as you grab that first shot.

“Also-” Steve turns to you and Eddie, “I knew that was Munson’s shirt. The day he got it, all he did was brag about what a rare find it was. Fuck off with your Target bullshit.”

Eddie’s hand leaves your shoulder long enough to reach out and thump Steve, laughter booming and vibrating against you, “Sure you did, Stevie.”

“Target has some nice things,” Nancy offers with a shrug, now holding her own shot glass.

The seven of you all hold up the first of what will probably be too many shots tonight, the beginning of a night that will probably be remembered through killer hangovers tomorrow and possibly even captured on camera by the likes of Jonathan, Steve, and Eddie.

“To Argyle,” you take the lead on the cheers, jittery and anxious as all the love you continue to withhold buzzes in your chest, lifting your small glass in his direction, “The most lovable twenty three year old I know.”

Everyone moves to drink, but Argyle immediately shakes his head, “Nah, fuck that. It’s not even my birthday yet – I demand a new toast.”

He lifts his brows, staring you down and silently adding, you know what to do.

And yeah, you did know what to do.

“Fine,” you sigh dramatically, leaning further forward, Eddie’s arm following. You relish in the tense silence as everyone waits for what you’re about to say instead. Even Eddie is waiting with bated breath, watching your every move, a contrasting yet easy smile on his face, “To bets.”

A booming applause from your group. Glasses tapping against the wooden table before shots are downed. Groans of disgust as the tequila hits everyones’ tongues.

Eddie hardly waits before you’ve both swallowed to remove his arm and grab your face, turning your cheek so that his lips can capture yours. Everyone only cheers louder, Steve letting out an obnoxious whistle as Argyle claps. You’re surely going to get kicked out of the bar at this rate. But you really don’t care as you kiss your boy back.

Next time. You have to tell him next time.

—

The night ends in more of a whisper than a bang, surprisingly.

Everyone has suddenly become a happy drunk, probably from all the love and good news passed around throughout the night. It’s all warm feelings and warm hugs, tequila on the breath and love on the mind.

You don’t even get kicked out of the bar. Your waitress only smiles at your rowdy table from time to time, and you figure that all the good vibes must be rubbing off on her.

Steve is the first to call it quits. Robin has drank enough to give herself the hiccups, and he says that after that, she almost always gets viciously nauseous. He wants to get in the car and home before she gets to the point, for the sake of his car’s interior not getting covered in puke.

It’s a domino effect from there.

Argyle quickly agrees, Jonathan offers a guiding arm to Nancy, and Eddie’s arm only tightens around you. The group closes out the tab, putting off worries of everyone paying Jonathan back until tomorrow. Quick, simple, painless.

Until you all get outside. And goodbyes are exchanged – that’s not the part that gets to you – with promises of seeing each other throughout the week. Everyone congratulates you and Eddie one more time for good measure, Nancy and Steve looking the most proud of you two as Argyle and Robin giggle like children about it. And it’s fine – you laugh along and it’s all good. You let them get in all their I told you so’s and know it’s all in good fun.

It’s all fine. Until you two branch off from the group, Eddie’s bike across the lot from everyone else’s cars.

The moment you two are alone, you can’t tell if it’s the alcohol or if it’s the levity of suddenly having a moment that only belongs to you. Your mind wastes no time of reminding you of your pathetic cop out: I’m just really glad you didn’t really hate me. None of those words even sound akin to the real ones you should have said.

I love you.

It’s not because your friends have found out. You know it’s not that, because just last week, right after your breakdown about whether you were smothering Eddie by half-living in his apartment, you’d had a breakdown because you realized you wanted to fully live in his apartment. You’d had a breakdown because you hadn’t grown tired of him yet, hadn’t satisfied the need to see his face every morning when you first wake up yet. You hadn’t gotten bored with all his lingering affectionate touches. You hadn’t gotten used to the way he’d kiss you in the middle of sentences. He was still taking your breath away, two months later, and you had a breakdown because you realized it wasn’t novelty or a pathetic crush making you feel this way.

You had a breakdown because you love Eddie.

You love him, ardently so, and you still can’t find the right moment to say those words to him. He deserves to know – the entire foundation of this relationship was honesty.

It’s all you can think about as his hand finds yours and he’s walking up to his bike, practically dragging you up to his bike as your legs forget how to work amongst nerves.

“So, I was thinking,” he carries on conversation so casually, “You want to spend the night at my place? I know you said you don’t have any class-“

Now. Not later, not next time. Now.

“Hey, Eddie?” you interrupt him, stopping the two of you a few paces away from his bike.

His face is impossibly concerned as he looks down at you, clearly reading the worry on your face, “What’s up, babe?”

Here goes nothing – be brave.

“I-”

Why is this so hard?

It shouldn’t be this hard, because loving Eddie is easy.

It’s easy when he’s looking at you like this, like he always does. It’s easy when he wakes up after you, and he comes into the kitchen to just wrap himself around you as you make him coffee, no matter what time of day it might be. It’s easy when he catches your eye from across the room during outings, sometimes winking once he knows you’ve found his gaze, just to see you laugh. It’s easy when he tries to distract you from homework when you’ve been spending far too many hours hunched over your laptop on his couch, coming and bugging you, laying his head on your lap and insisting his girl needs a break. It’s easy when he kisses you and everything just feels right.

It’s easy. He loves you – you love him. It isn’t hard. You’re making this hard, when it never was.

“I love you,” you admit quietly, voice shaking as the words leave you easily.

Loving Eddie is easy.

“I love you,” you say more surely, voice raising in volume as you find the willpower to look into his eyes, “I love you so fucking much, Eddie.”

Each time you say it, you gain confidence in it. It’s true – you love him. You love him so much, it encompasses every inch of your being. It entirely consumes you. You love him.

His face falls slowly, mouth agape and eyes boring into yours.

You don’t wait for his response. You already have it – in the way he’s still holding your hand, in the way he holds you at the end of each night, in the way he knows both your orders at bars and coffee shops. In the way he will always put himself between you and the street when walking down the sidewalk, in the way when he roughly stops his bike at stop lights that his hand always flies back to hold onto you. In every soft touch and every expression of devotion he has offered you for not just two months, but for over a year.

“You love me?” he softly asks, finally beginning to come back to life.

You nod without hesitation, “I love you, Eddie.”

Now that you’ve started saying it, you can’t stop it. And each time, it’s still heavy and sweet like honey, even as the confession comes as easy as breathing. It’s pouring from every crevice, filling up the night air around you.

He takes you off guard with a harsh kiss. His teeth colliding with yours, his breath stealing yours, his entire being molded with yours.

“Say it again,” he begs in a murmur as he pulls you in even closer, desperate as you break into a smile, “God, please say it again, sweetheart.”

“I love you,” your cheeks begin to ache, the kiss no longer even to be a considered a kiss as you two are just mindlessly pressing your smiles together, “I love you, I love you, I love you,” with each repeat of the sentiment, Eddie drinks it in, “I’m so fucking in love with you, Eddie Munson. You and your stupid lockscreen and-”

“You do not think my lockscreen is stupid,” he pulls away, raising his eyebrows as his palms squish your cheeks, “I saw the way you looked at me. You were eating that shit up.”

You bite your lip, trying to pull further away from him, but he won’t let you, “I was not-”

“You were,” he cheekily teases, eyes bright as he looks at you, “You were, and it was the best thing ever. Totally worth stealing Argyle’s spotlight.”

“We didn’t steal Argyle’s spotlight,” you try to defend yourself.

“We so did.”

You shake your head to the best of your abilities, face still between his hands, “We… Okay, we sort of did.”

He grins like a young boy, all his youth and all his love on show for you as he leans down, pausing right before pressing another kiss to your lips, “We definitely did. And it’s fair, because they fucking bet on us.”

“They did,” you agree, not even feeling guilty anymore, too consumed by the love for the man right in front of you, “They tend to do that a lot, don’t they?”

“They do.”

He finally surges forward, lips sealing against yours one last time. It’s less messy this time, more meaningful. A bit more patient as he takes the time to fit his lips into yours, just as they should be.

You have an audience. You’re completely oblivious until you hear the cheering from across the parking lot, snapping apart to both glance at where Argyle and Robin are jumping up and down, screaming their heads off.

“Hell yeah, my dudes!” Argyle’s voice booms as Robin only produces incoherent coos to echo.

Nancy, Steve, and Jonathan are all just watching silently, shaking their heads, but you can also see their grins. Almost as radiant as you felt.

Steve finally cups his hands around his mouth, sending his voice to you over Argyle’s continuing whooping, “Get a room!”

Perfectly in sync, you and Eddie both throw up a hand with your middle fingers raised in their direction, still half tangled in each other.

Your eyes find Nancy. She’s looking at you two with overwhelming pride, a certain satisfaction that breathes out the relief of finally. This may be a weight off not only your chest but Eddie’s as well, yet you can’t help but imagine just how she feels. How many nights she had stomached Eddie’s rambles about you leading up to this very moment. The pay off must be unimaginable.

Finally.

“Congrats on finally getting the girl, Munson!” she calls out, but her eyes are on you, winking.

You see it now. Why they’re best friends. How all her best parts and Eddie’s best parts overlap and compliment one another perfectly.

Jonathan is the final one to yell across the parking lot at you two, one arm slung around Nancy as the other moves to unlock his car, even his usually grumpy face showing signs of elation in that timid smile, “Now take your girl, home, dude. Spare the rest of us the gory details.”

Eddie’s laugh reverberates against you physically from how he holds you, also making its way to burrow deep within your chest where all that liquid bliss belongs, as he throws his entire head back and makes you finally focus on just him again. Home. Not just his apartment, but him. You realize now that it’s simply wherever he goes. Where he leads, you’ll follow. It could be a shitty dorm room with a mattress that leaves your back aching, it could be a comforting apartment that holds you ‘hostage’ for twenty four hours straight – it doesn’t really matter. Wherever he is, home is. He’s your home; you love him, he knows you love him, and he’s your home.

When his laughter finally fades, and he’s looking at you again, his dimples are prominent as ever through his whisper, “Just in case you’ve forgotten – I’m very much in love with you, too, sweetheart.”

His lips meet yours for good measure.

It’s been the longest week of your life, the longest year, but you’re finally home.

taglist: @catherinnn @haylaansmi @gaysludge @paprikaquinn @manda-panda-monium @audhd-dragonaut @blushingquincy @hellkaisersangel @eddieslittlewh0re @ajkamins @prettyboy200 @munsonzzgf @blue-eyed-lion @digwhatudug @madaboutjoe @wickedslashdivine @sweet-villain @somespicystuff @big-ope-vibes @jadequeen88 @sylviin @emma77645 @notbeforelong @lolalanaie @lo-siento-ama @happy-and-alone @micheledawn1975 @aysheashea @moon-huny @munsonswrld @bambipowerblueaddition @averagestudent03 @bakugouswh0r3 @mattefic @mxcheese @bietchz @nativity-in-black @stezzil @vngelis @coley0823 @folklorebau @luvmunson86 @theherothesavior @keene200213 @hargrovesswifee @m-chmcl-rmnc @cherrymedicine13 @iunaelumen777

#twenty four hours #eddie munson #my writing #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fic #i cannot believe it's over holy shit #holy fucking shit #told y'all the photo would make a reappearance!#im resisting the urge to be so so sappy jesus christ

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depravitycentral · 8 months

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Yandere! Uvogin NSFW Profile

Yandere! Uvogin x fem! reader

Tw: mentions of non-con, masturbation, non-consensual aiding of masturbation (? not sure what to tag this but you'll see what I mean), excessive cum-play, snowballing, facials, stalking, kidnapping, mentions of degradation, exhibitionism, implied that Nobunaga jerked it to you I'm so sorry for your loss, kind of allusions to breeding but nothing explicit, fem reader, MDNI

I do not condone any of the actions described in this post - this is fiction and should be treated as such. If you or a loved one is in a similar situation to anything contained in this post or my blog in general, please seek help. You're in charge of your internet consumption; please make responsible choices. With that, enjoy!

WC: 10K

HABITS:

In general, Uvogin is no stranger to sex. He’s had his fair share of hookups over the years, and while he’s never really had a long term partner (being a criminal and always on the run makes it a bit difficult), he’s got a good, solid amount of experience under his belt.

And so, while he may be intimidating and a bit scary, there’s always plenty of drunk women at the local bars or clubs who are more than willing to take their chance at managing to take him.

And for the most part, Uvogin is completely satisfied with this – hookups and flings are fun, and he’s able to get his rocks off whenever he pleases.

However, once you step into his life, his frequent sex with strangers take an abrupt and very strict hiatus. Not only does it feel wrong to sleep with any woman besides you, he simply doesn’t find the allure anymore – if he were to sleep with anyone aside from you, he’d spend the entire time focused on all the things that are different from you rather than actually enjoying the experience.

Maybe their hair is different – yours is prettier, he thinks.

Maybe your voice is different – it’s not as annoying and shrill and whiny as the other woman’s, and Uvogin can very confidently say that he likes yours much, much more.

Maybe their body is different – your curves are different, better for him, and you’re softer and warmer and just better.

Hookups are out of the question once he really decides that he wants you – but unfortunately, the same can’t be said of his hormones. He still craves sexual contact and release, perhaps even more so now that he has you to actively imagine and think of and desire, but his tried and true method of finding someone random to relieve some pent up stress isn’t an option anymore.

And so, once his obsession develops, he finds himself masturbating much, much more often.

It’s not as nice as having a living, breathing person there to help him out, but it’s his only option – you’re not an option yet, as much as he desperately wishes you were, because while he’d give anything to sink into what he’s sure is your tight, warm, soaking wet cunt, he doesn’t want to reserve the progress he’s made in worming his way into your life all for one night of pleasure.

And so, he falls back on pleasuring himself with a bit of an aid – it’s not enough to simply fist himself and imagine your body or your sounds.

No, it’s not nearly enough – so instead, Uvogin finds a way to seamlessly involve you in his self-pleasure, all with the wonderful caveat of you having absolutely no idea of your role.

Uvogin’s already reaching for the hem of his shorts as he plops down onto the ratty couch in the living room of his current hideout. He’s quick to shimmey them down, all the way down to his ankles, only to unceremoniously kick them off to some corner of the room.

His cock is already semi-hard, the knowledge of what’s coming next unconsciously exciting him. He sighs and lets his head roll back slightly, resting on the frame of the couch, his hand sneaking down the plane of his abdomen and settling lightly over his cock.

Idly groping at his balls (just soft, teasing squeezes – nothing too serious yet, not when the action hasn’t begun), his free hand reaches to the next cushion and picks up the cheap burner phone Shalnark had provided him with last week. There’s only three numbers saved in it – Chrollo’s, Shalnark’s, and yours.

With a sharp swallow, Uvogin presses on your contact listing, listening as the familiar dial tone rings through the speakers. Your voice is surprised as you pick up, a delighted little oh, I wasn’t expecting a call from you!

It makes him bite his lip, squeezing at his balls just a bit harder.

Yeah, sorry, but I was bored and wanted to hear your voice. He smirks at the soft little sound of surprise you make at that.

Oh! Oh, sure, yeah! Okay, well, uh, how has your day been?

And although you’ve said absolutely nothing even remotely suggestive, Uvogin’s cock twitches against his forearm, making his thighs tense slightly.

Good, drank some beer and watched the hockey game, the usual. I want to hear about you, though. Tell me everything about this week, yeah?

And with that, he settles back further against the couch, truly getting comfortable as you start telling him about how this week you’ve done this and that, then this, then that…

He’s not really listening, and some part of him – the part not currently imagining the way you’d look with his cock down your throat – feels guilty about not giving you one hundred percent of his attention, but as you suddenly gasp and say oh then this happened he finds himself not caring.

Soon he’s transitioning from groping his balls to wrapping his fingers around his length, careful not to hiss into the phone receiver as he slowly, almost painfully slowly brings his fist up to his tip, squeezing a bit, then bringing it back down.

Your voice is a constant through the phone, the familiar lilt and pace of your words only slightly distorted through the device, and as he slowly works himself, he closes his eyes to listen more carefully. He likes the way you pronounce things – occasionally you say his name, and his hips jerk up a bit to fuck up into his fist each time you do, making him hold in a grunt each time.

Slowly he picks up the pace, moving his wrist a bit faster with every sentence you say, letting his eyes flutter closed again while his head lolls back slightly, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip.

He can practically imagine you here with him – the way you’d be straddling him on this couch, your soft thighs pressing against his hips, your pussy rubbing and grinding against him because you want to tease him, your hands splayed across his chest as you tell him that you want him, that you need him, that you need him to touch you and taste you and feel you and fuck you –

Uvogin? Uvogin? Are you okay? You sound like you’ve just run a marathon…

Your voice brings him back to reality, and immediately his eyes are snapping open and his hand freezes, his heavy breaths ringing through the receiver. After a beat, he swallows and reassures that he’s fine! Sorry sorry, that stupid neighbor of mine just stood outside my front door – you know how loud he breaths. Don’t worry about it, keep going. I like listening.

You seem a bit hesitant, but you keep going, and Uvogin makes sure to mute himself this time. Now he can listen to you talk and not worry about being too loud. Immediately he’s picking up where he left off, hips coming up to help fuck up into his fist, grunts and groans of your name slipping past his lips all the while you chatter on about last Wednesday.

Uvogin’s feet plant flat against the floor as he uses them for leverage to thrust up, pretending you’re perched in his lap with his cock buried between your legs, your pretty tits squished up against his chest while you gasp and moan and cry out his name, his thrusts only getting deeper and harder and stronger, the desire to truly fuck you and mold your cunt to the shape of his cock getting the better of him.

Soon he’s fully groaning out phrases into the phone, going on about how you’re so damn tight, fuck baby just like that, shit clench just like that, oh fuuuck! His hips are making an audible sound as they smack back into the couch cushions with every thrust, and with wild eyes he stares down at his lap, imagining the sight of his cock sinking into your cunt over and over, your slick spilling down your thighs and getting everything wet and sticky, the sound of his balls clapping against your ass over and over.

He's close, feeling the trace edges of his orgasm approaching, his toes beginning to curl and his abs starting to tighten and his balls starting to clench and oh –

I missed you that day, Uvogin, I wish you’d been there.

He comes with a near shout of your name, his hips pistoling into his fist as ropes of cum spurt onto his chest, his breathing heavy and uneven as he shakes, his hand trembling slightly as it grips onto the phone so tightly it nearly breaks.

You’re still speaking, but Uvogin’s not listening as he replays your words over and over in his head – you wanted him there, wanted to see him, wanted to be with him. He’s still saying your name over and over, his breathing slowly calming down as his cum slowly dribbles down his chest, and he lets a smile sit on his lips. Running a hand through his hair (still slightly stained with cum, but the euphoria swimming through his veins makes it hard to care), he swallows, saying your name one last time with a small chuckle.

Fuck, only you can make me like this, huh? You’re making me into a real loser, you know that? Fucking himself and pretending you’re here with me. God.

Soon, once he’s gotten enough of a grip on his breathing, he unmutes himself, just in time for you to finish up your report.

That’s about it, sorry for rambling! But anyways, what are you up to?

He smiles at that, giving his cock one final squeeze and licking a bit of cum off his finger.

Just wondering if you wanna get dinner tonight, how about that Italian place you were talking about the other day?

And when you agree, eventually hanging up, Uvogin can only sigh and slap his thigh.

Soon, very soon, he’s sure he won’t have to imagine anymore – soon it’ll be your hand instead of his.

Just the thought makes him groan, blood already rushing south again.

FAVORITE BODY PARTS:

Your Ass

Uvogin likes every part of you, but he’d be lying if he said he doesn’t have a special spot for your ass.

It doesn’t matter the shape or size – it’s yours, and by extension, Uvogin wants to touch It and squeeze it and grope it.

Constantly.

He’s generally a touchy person, both in and out of sexual contexts, and while his handsiness is often innocent regarding you, his hand finds its way to your backside much too often to be considered truly accidental.

He’s a bit fan of idly groping you, letting a hand wander down and give a playful squeeze, only to feel you jump a bit out of surprise.

(He’ll always send you this toothy grin afterwards, telling you that he can’t help it baby, it’s just right there and it’s so damn cute and fuck, if you could see it you’d understand.)

He likes to come up behind you and hug you, pressing himself directly against your backside – your heights likely mean that his cock doesn’t directly sit against your ass, but even feeling his legs against the soft area makes him lick his lips, already imagining the way the soft skin would feel under the rough pads of his fingers.

He likes to smack your ass when you walk by him – it’s always, always light, of course, just enough to startle you but not enough to actually hurt.

He likes the way you get irritated and swat at him, telling you with a cheeky wink and grin that you can always return the favor, babe.

And when you’re actually intimate with one another, this habit of his certainly doesn’t change – he’s always slapping your ass when he’s fucking you in doggy style, going on about how you look so pretty from this angle, all the while groping and squeezing at your poor cheeks until they’re nearly purple.

He’s always cupping your ass when you’re riding him, helping move you up and down with a palm on each cheek, squeezing and holding you so tightly you nearly have no control over your own movements.

He’ll fuck you in a prone bone position, all the while staring at how your ass jiggles with each smack of his hips against it, his fingers (that he’d intertwined with yours above your head) clutching onto yours even harder at the sight.

He’s just genuinely in love with the way your ass looks and feels, and although he wouldn’t bring it up unless you wanted to, Uvogin would love to have you sit on his face, letting your pretty ass be the only thing he sees as you grind and scoop and use him, letting his tongue brush across your clit over and over again all while he gets to admire.

(He wouldn’t even mind if you wanted to scoot forward a bit, letting your pussy rub against his chin while his tongue works diligently at the tight, taboo little hole you don’t normally let him touch. He’s sure it'll feel good, that you’ll enjoy it, that he’ll enjoy it, because it’s just another way to be close to you, another way to claim something of yours as his his his.)

Expect your ass to fondled and groped and smacked at least twice a day, if not more – he just can’t control himself, and surely you understand?

If you were as deeply obsessed and attracted to yourself as he is, you’d have to understand that he physically can’t help himself – not when you’re so goddamn tempting.

His mouth

Because Uvogin is such a pleaser in bed, he’s very quickly exploring the variety of ways he can utilize to get you off.

Of course, he likes the tried and true fucking, making you melt on his cock, but something about it feels a bit barbarian, a little bit too rough sometimes, even if he’s addicted to the feeling of your pussy.

Even his fingers are sometimes a little too much, just because you always tense up so much, your walls clamping down on him and making it difficult to move, the stretch from them alone feeling like the size of any of your previous partners.

Of course, he still likes fucking you and fingering you, but there’s something about using his mouth on you that he simply can’t get enough of.

Maybe it’s because it’s so much more intimate, like something special the two of you are sharing. He’s tasting the most private part of you, a place only a handful of people have ever gotten to see (much less taste), and something about that knowledge makes him swell with pride, a smirk settling across his lips.

Regardless, Uvogin takes every opportunity to use his mouth on you that he possibly can – the two of you are sitting on the couch while you read one of the few books he picked up for you and he watches TV, and suddenly he’s between your legs and pulling down your lounging shorts, looking up at you and licking his lips with a positively feral expression, murmuring that he’s feeling a little hungry, yeah?

Every sexual encounter between the two of almost always including Uvogin’s lips against your cunt in some capacity – he’s a very firm believer in the necessity of foreplay (particularly due to his size), and he spares no expense in making sure that you’re properly wet for him, that you’ve come at least once his tongue, that you’re as prepared and ready as possible in order to take him with minimal pain.

And Uvogin is good with his mouth, too – he’s got amazing stamina, and is able to stick with a consistent speed and tempo.

His fallback is to lick small, tight circles with medium pressure, but he’s always stealing glances up at you to check your facial expressions, adjusting anything and everything he think she needs to in order to get your eyes rolling to the back of his head.

He’ll start with light kisses spanning along your inner thighs and all around your core, pressing butterfly licks against your folds that are barely there and leave you wanting more more more.

He’ll press kisses against your clit, coming down to kitten lick and stare at you the whole time, a smirk sitting on his lips each time you bite your lip or keen.

He'll slowly add more pressure, building up the pace a bit too, until he’s licking shapes against your bud and occasionally sucking it into his mouth lightly, feeling the way your thighs tense up a bit around his head, loving the way your eyes flutter closed and you grasp onto the pillow underneath you.

He’ll occasionally dip down to lick long stripes along your folds, dipping his tongue in to tease your entrance, making lewd, obnoxious slurping noises just to hear you get embarrassed.

He loves it, and as soon as he gets to a pace he thinks you’re liking, he’ll stay down there for as long as it takes to get you coming, whether that be five minutes or an hour – it’s worth it, because when you get all doe eyed and shake and writhe and cream on his face, you look so fucking pretty, so perfect he can’t help but grind against the bed, anything to relieve some of the ache.

DRIVE:

In general, his sex drive is high. It’s always been that way, really, even before you stepped into his life – the thrill of combat and sex are two of his guiltiest pleasures, and he’s absolutely no stranger to hook ups.

He’s not unbearably horny, but he toes the line quite well, needing to get off at least two times a week in order to stay functional and sane.

So really, once his obsession with you forms, sexual thoughts revolving around you are very, very quick to follow.

Frankly, when he first realizes that he’s drawn to you, that there’s just something about you that he can’t seem to leave alone, he genuinely believes it’s simply a sexual attraction to you that’s messing with him. He rationalizes these infant stages of his infatuation with you as simply wanting to fuck you, rather than wanting to have you.

And Uvogin is a man of opportunity – he can’t not imagine stripping you bare and cupping at your tits, smacking your ass, perching you on his lap and bouncing you up and down like you’re just some glorified sex toy.

The images come quickly and startingly easily – too easily, really, because imagining all the different ways he wants to get you screaming his name and gushing for him really should’ve clued him in to the fact that his feelings for you go way beyond physical.

And eventually, once he decides that you’re more than just a hot piece of ass, he can’t just forget about the multitudes of nights he’s fantasized about spending hours with his face between your legs, or the number of times he’s soaked his fist with cum from merely thinking about how you’d look with your pretty face pressed into the mattress, his form caging you into a prone bone position while he absolutely destroys your tight little pussy.

He can’t – won’t – forget, and so as his obsession becomes richer, deeper, more hopeless, Uvogin’s sexual fantasies revolving around you become harder and harder to control and fight. Because really, how can he not imagine even more once he’s realized he’s in love with you?

Sure, he still wants to shove his cock down your throat and hear you choke and struggle with his girth, but now he also wants to trace his tip along the shape of your lips, to see your pretty eyes sparkling up at him with a few tears dotting the lashes, to feel you moan around him at his taste.

Sure, he still wants to bend you over and feel that perfect, tight little pussy of yours, but now he also wants to thrust softly and sweetly, to get deeper and brush against the spot he knows you like, to make you cry out his name rather than just scream and gasp.

The sexual fantasies are still explicit, but they’re more loving, more like making love rather than just animalistic fucking – and of course, once these thoughts develop in their entirety, Uvogin has to exercise an extreme amount of self-control to not act them out.

He’s painfully aware of the fact that you likely aren’t clamoring to sleep with him, partially because you’re infuriated at him for kidnapping you, and terrified of him because of his physical stature and criminal status.

He’s sure you don’t particularly want to be with him in a sexual way (though he hopes, desperately, that one day you will), and the last thing he wants is for you to be even more afraid of him, or to hate him even more.

And so, Uvogin won’t force himself onto you.

He won’t force you onto your knees or strip your clothing off of you or anything of the sort. He wants to, of course, so badly that it nearly drives him insane, but he won’t do it out of respect for you and a selfish desire to get you falling in love with him.

What he will do, however, is make it perfectly, abundantly clear that if you’re ever in the mood, he’s more than willing to oblige.

He’ll tell you, pretty much from the beginning of your captivity with him, that if you ever desire absolutely anything physical at all, he’ll be naked and eagerly waiting for you within seconds.

And that includes everything: simply using those massive palms of his to grope and squeeze at your breasts, calloused fingers gently rolling a nipple between them and listening to the way you sigh out.

(He’ll approach you with this particular offer when he knows your menstrual cycle is nearing, when you’re bloated and soar and desperate for any kind of reprieve – you need someone to hold those for ya, babe? They’re looking awfully heavy, and you’d be surprised how gentle these fingers can be.)

He’ll offer to finger you when you seem stressed, that grin of his wolfish and eager but also strangely genuine, as if the prospect of pleasuring you isn’t just some sexual urge and rather something he wants to do, as if it pleasures him, too.

(This offer is always accompanied with a rather showy wiggle of his fingers, making sure the veins and tendons in his hand are visibly flexing, just to try and entice you even more – and it works, because although you shake your head and tell him that you strongly pass, he can see the way your eyes are glued to his fingers, how your thighs press together ever so slightly, how you can’t hide the desire swimming in your eyes.)

He’ll offer to let you sit on his cock when you’re feeling lonely, telling you that he’ll be there the whole time, how you can’t possibly feel lonely when there’s literally someone inside of you, patting his groin – with pants barely holding back his straining erection – and telling you that he won’t try anything funny he promises.

(And he’ll stay true to that promise – it’s actual torture to not fuck up into you, to not bounce you up and down in his lap and feel the way your walls desperately clench down on him, but he holds himself back. Besides, feeling you slowly, slowly work your way down his length is a treat enough, each inch stretching you further than you though possible, your little hisses and whines and whimpers making him physically throb inside of you.)

He’ll even offer to fuck you when the mood feels right, telling you that he’s never left a partner unsatisfied, that he knows how to treat you, that he’ll be slow and gentle and soft and sweet, something that he means with every fiber of his being.

(At least, he’ll be all those things the first time he gets you naked in his arms – after that, anything goes. He can’t always be expected to control himself, after all.)

It’s mildly intrusive and will make you uncomfortable in the beginning, but as time passes and he doesn’t actually force anything onto you, merely offering, slowly your walls will start crumbling.

If you’re stuck with him, maybe it isn’t the end of the world if you get something out of the ordeal – you’re trapped with him, but does that mean you aren’t allowed an orgasm?

Sure he’s kidnapped you and keeps you locked away in a modestly furnished home, but is it really so wrong of you to accept the pleasure he seems more than happy to give you? Does that make you a bad person, or a selfish person?

With time you’ll start thinking no, that perhaps letting Uvogin eat you out for hours and bring you high after high wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world – and he’ll be very, very happy to oblige.

(And you can tell, too – the way he groans and growls against you makes it hard to ignore, as does the way something warm and wet and thick splatters against your thighs when he’s got you hovering over his chin.)

MAIN THREE KINKS:

Size Kink

Uvogin is more than aware of the size difference between the two of you.

It doesn’t matter how tall you are, or how large you are – he is bigger than you, both in stature and presence and every other measurable way. He’s a hulking figure that takes up the entire side of the dining table you share meals at, needing to wear shirts that literally fall off your frame, dominating and bigger than you in every sense of the word.

And he knows this - he’s completely aware of how you’re so small compared to him, so tiny and adorable and breakable, and when it comes to really anything between the two of you, he has a tendency to take this fact to heart, to be beyond careful in making sure that he does absolutely nothing that could ever put you in harm’s way.

Though he won’t admit it, having you hurt or afraid of him in any way is genuinely one of his worst fears, and although he knows he can do nothing to change his physical appearance, he takes care to come across as least threatening and as welcoming as possible.

And when it comes to the bedroom, Uvo is even more hyper aware, because when he’s buried inside that tight, cute little cunt of yours, his orgasm rapidly approaching, it’s almost disturbingly easy to lose control, to just pin you down and fuck the absolute shit out of you, until you’re nothing more than a quivering, split open mess below him.

He has to keep an incredible amount of focus when his orgasm looms near to make sure that he doesn’t dig his fingers into your skin too hard lest he leave bruises, or that he doesn’t fuck into you at the pace he truly wants to lest he push a little too far and tear something.

He doesn’t want to hurt you, so he tries his absolute best to keep you on top, to keep you controlling the pace and everything else in order to keep you safe and feeling good.

(Besides, he’s got a great view when you’re on top – he can see, all in the same glance, your pussy sucking in his length over and over, your breasts bouncing and jiggling, even your face all twisted up in ecstasy as you ride him as hard as you can. He’s not particularly hands-off during sex, but often he’s tempted to simply lay back with his arms crossed behind his head, content to watch your show and let your cunt bring him steadily closer to orgasm. His desire to see you gasp and stare wildly at him in shock and pleasure often outweighs this urge, however, because he almost always settles his hands on your hips and helps guide you, suddenly thrusting just a hair deeper into you and hearing your cry of a-ah Uvo too deep!)

However, that isn’t to say that Uvogin doesn’t enjoy the size difference between the two of you – on the contrary, he thinks it’s beyond cute, that it’s adorable just how tiny you are in comparison to him.

And while the fear that he could hurt you is very much omnipresent, he can’t deny how it makes his heart race and blood pump to his cock when he sees how just one of his hands engulfs your entire thigh, how you struggle to straddle him because his waist is just so muscular and wide, how your breast is completely engulfed by his palm when he roughly fondles and kneads at it.

It’s endearing in a way, how cute and small you are beside him, and even more obvious when you have your hands wrapped around his cock, your fingers not able to close completely around his girth.

Seeing you struggle so much to simply jerk him off makes Uvo smug, a smirk falling across his face while he groans, little murmurs of your name tumbling past his lips while you work at him, trying desperately to get him to come, to get him to tell you how you’re a good girl, fuck look at your hands, ngh wanna – gonna stretch out that tiny little cunt with this fat cock, you want that?

It’s most definitely a guilty pleasure, something that makes him feel big and strong and important, and in the context of your sexual relationship, there’s just simply no way to get around the fact that Uvogin quite literally towers over you.

(Especially when you’re on your knees, staring up at his imposing stature and the large, swollen, veiny cock sitting at eye level, his voice teasing as he tells you to go on, it won’t bite, I promise. Only I do that.)

Praise

Generally Uvogin isn’t particularly derogatory in bed. He’s not a big fan of degradation in general, both in and out of the bedroom, partially because he’s not a naturally mean person (aside from the criminal activity and murder, of course), and partly because he really does cherish and love you. He thinks you’re beautiful and perfect and everything he could want in a woman, and his honesty bars him from ever saying anything to the contrary.

He doesn’t want to tell you that you’re just a slut, that you’re a hole for him to fuck, that you should stay quiet and let him get what he wants – he wants you, in more ways than one. He loves you, in his own twisted, fucked up way, and he wants your time in bed together to reflect that sentiment.

And so, Uvogin falls on the opposite side of the spectrum from degradation – that is, there’s a nearly overwhelming amount of praise in the bedroom.

Comments about how pretty you are or how good at something you are constantly slip past his lips, his voice gruff and low as he tells that you look so damn pretty on your knees baby.

He’s got a compliment or praise ready for every possible situation in bed – you’re undressing, struggling to get the giant shirt Uvogin had forced you into this morning up over your head? He’s chuckling, grinning, slapping your ass and telling you that you’re so damn cute, princess, makes me go crazy when you wear my shit.

You’re kissing him, pinned below him with your wrists over your head? He’s licking his lips as he pulls back, planting kisses against your neck and telling you that you taste so good, you’re so fucking pretty.

You’re biting your lip and carding your fingers through your hair as he sucks and playfully bites at your nipples? He’s burying his face between your breasts and vigorously shaking it, laughing and telling you that these tits are so perfect babe, god I always wanna touch ‘em and kiss ‘em, how about no more bras around the house? Or maybe no more shirts at all – don’t expect me to control myself, yeah?

You’re sinking to your knees while he sighs and grabs the base of his cock, running his tip over your lips while he stares down at you? He’s telling you that you look so pretty babe, can’t wait to see these lips with my cum on them instead.

You’re perched on his lap, his tip barely nestled inside you while you wince and bite your lip? He’s running soothing hands up your sides, cooing at you that you’re doing so good baby, ‘m so proud of you, fuck you’re tight, feels so damn good.

You’re on your hands and knees, chest and face pressed in the mattress while he mounts you from behind, hips flush with yours and pummeling into you with no mercy? He’s leaning all the way over you and growling into your ear that you’re mine, babe, fuck don’t you ever forget, god this pussy is so good, y’so damn tight and wet, gonna make me come baby, you want that? Yeah? You want my cum?

You’re underneath him, tits bouncing every which way and body physically thrusting back and forth as he fucks into you with a sturdy hand pressing right over your naval? He’s laughing breathlessly, using his free hand to push back his hair and telling you to take it baby, fuck yeah just like that, you look so damn hot like this.

Even when he’s in the middle of coming, thick spurts of white shooting from his swollen, red tip, he’s praising you – telling you that you take him so well, that you always take – fuck, take it all, look so damn pretty with my cum in you.

He just genuinely believes that you’re beautiful, and because he’s naturally quite talkative, this shows in the bedroom – he can’t not comment on how you look, how you feel, how smell, how you taste.

It would be wrong to not let you know how much he’s enjoying being with you, how badly he’s dreamed of fucking you, or how long he’s dreamed of touching you – so really, even if his constant praise embarrasses you, you’d best get used to it. He won’t stop, and if you were to return the favor?

Well, his ego isn’t particularly fragile, but he can’t deny how it affects him any time you moan out about how good he feels or how big he is or how you’re close – oh god, ‘m gonna come, oh god Uvo Uvo Uvo-!

He can’t deny the way his cock jumps, how it twitches and pulses and oozes out precum at just hearing your voice and words, hearing his name and feeling the way your body seizes up all because of him him him.

He’s a sucker for it, so expect sex with him to be loud and full of compliments – even if they’re a little vulgar sometimes (fuck babe, these tits – I wanna fuck ‘em, get them all messy and covered in my cum fuuuck-) or oddly specific (god you taste good, those panties of yours don’t even come close…).

He just can’t help himself, so get used to it – he won’t stop, even if you beg him to.

Cum play

He’s possessive, and it shows in the bedroom.

He’s always got a hand on your body, hickeys bruising your throat, collarbone or inner thighs, handprints decorating your ass, or even a light bite mark here and there along your thighs and stomach.

He likes the concept of claiming you and physically showing that you’re his, and while this presents itself in normal ways like previously mentioned, Uvogin’s favorite form of showcasing that you belong to him is by getting his cum absolutely everywhere on your body.

He produces an insane amount of it with every orgasm – it just keeps coming, spurt after spurt shooting from his swollen tip and landing on your body or the sheets underneath you, all the while he’s groaning and his hips are involuntarily thrusting, making everything even more messy.

His orgasms last easily twenty seconds, with a constant stream of white, and Uvogin loves nothing more than to absolutely paint you with it.

When your hands – so small and cute and soft compared to his calloused skin – are wrapped around him, pulling and tugging, the slick sound of spit and lube clicking in his ears, he’ll give a warning of here it comes, shit baby take it – and immediately your hands are covered in it, pools of cum dribbling down onto your fingers, slipping down your wrist and leaving everything sticky and wet and warm, Uvogin’s chest rising and falling with both the force of his orgasm and the sight of his cum against your skin.

(He’ll always grab your hands afterwards, slipping your fingers into his mouth one by one and licking away his cum, only to kiss you afterwards and push it all into your mouth, entertained by your surprised sound and the way you squirm against him.)

When you’re struggling to fit him into your mouth, only able to take the first few inches and leaving your hands to deal with the rest, he’ll dig his fingers into your hair and hold you there, biting his lip and telling you to swallow every last fucking drop, don’t wanna see any wasted babe before letting go, listening to the way you gag and eagerly swallow everything he’s giving you.

He’ll pull away with harsh breaths, watching the way you eagerly suck in air, your lips wet and glistening with spit and cum, your tongue still painted a white color.

(Sometimes, when he’s feeling particularly possessive, he’ll instead pull back right before letting go, telling you to stay sitting on your knees while he stands, fisting his cock at a near inhuman speed before pointing it right at your face, letting go and watching as ropes land across your cheeks, nose, lips and forehead, your entire face streaked with him in a way that makes his knees weak. Often, he’ll shake his cock a bit right at the end, eager to get every little bit out and onto you, groaning in satisfaction when the last, weakest little spurt lands right on your outstretched tongue. He’ll lean in closer and smear the cum across your skin even more, his voice sounding genuinely awed as he tells you that you’re so damn beautiful baby, fuck, get on the bed, I need to fuck you. Now.)

He loves to have you take his cock between your breasts, regardless of their size – he wants you suckle on his tip and rub your skin against him, feeling your pebbled nipples and the soft plush.

When he gets close, he’ll pull back and finish himself off, having you lay on your back while he straddles your waist, painting your breasts white and paying special attention to smear it across your nipples, pinching and twisting and pulling at them.

And even when he’s actually inside you, his penchant for being picky about where his cum goes doesn’t change – nine times out of ten he will come inside you, pushing his hips all the way the hilt so that he can finish as deeply as possible, the groan he lets out sending pleasure racing up your spine.

You can often literally feel it inside of you – something warm and wet filling you up, his cock spasming with every spurt, his balls clenching and tightening against your ass as he whispers your name under his breath.

(Most of the time, there’s simply too much to keep inside of you – it just never seems to end, and eventually there’s some dribbling out of you, smearing against your folds and dripping down the curve of your ass, sometimes even leaving a small pool against the bedsheets. Uvogin is equal parts proud and irritated when this happens, though – proud because god, you look perfect with his cum leaking out of you, but irritated because all of that really should be inside of you, not wasted and sitting on the bed. So, he'll scoop it up with his fingers, pushing it back inside you and fucking it up into you until he’s satisfied, the wet shmucking noise making him grin.)

Sometimes, though, he’ll pull out right at the last minute and instead come onto your cunt, letting the white settle against your inner thighs and coat your folds, leaving everything in a layer of opaque cream as he growls out your name.

He’ll often have you keep your legs spread even after he’s finished, moving closer to peer at his handiwork, getting so close and staring so hard that you inevitably get embarrassed, especially when he uses both thumbs to spread your folds and watch the cum dip down inside, even a few drops dribbling down inside you, the sight making him inexplicably satisfied.

Really, Uvogin just likes seeing you with his cum – whether it’s on you or inside you, he will find a way to incorporate it – it helps quell his possessiveness, and he can’t deny that the sight just looks so right, like something carnal and primal and natural.

(Unfortunately, though, he is a bit sensitive about you trying to clean it up – he often won’t let you shower after sex, telling you that it's better if you keep it on you or in you, and if you were to complain about it, he’ll just grab a pair of your panties and force them up your legs, the mess he’d left between them soaking into the fabric and making them damp every time you sit down or move. Again, don’t try to fight it – you won’t win, and Uvogin will often reach down between your legs just to ensure that you haven’t cleaned up – it’s a waste, he’d say, and he knows his girl isn’t wasteful.)

OTHER NOTABLE KINKS INCLUDE:

Overstimulation

In general, Uvogin loves to please you.

He’s by no means submissive, but there’s something about bringing you pleasure and watching you fall apart for him that gets him harder than he’s ever been, all the blood rushing to his cock so quickly it nearly makes him dizzy.

He just loves the way you look on the brink of an orgasm, how you look at him with such wide eyes and need, how you clutch onto him and chant his name over and over. He likes how your hips twitch and jerk in his grasp, how he has to physically hold you still so that he can keep his tongue working over your clit or his fingers thrusting into you.

It’s addicting, honestly, in some ways even better than his own orgasms – and so, Uvogin finds himself making it a priority every time he gets you naked that you find your high, unwilling to stop until you come at least once.

And that’s really the key – at least, because any given sexual encounter with Uvogin generally results in you having at least three orgasms. He absolutely loves to overstimulate you – watching you come is one of his favorite sights, those dark eyes of his always hyperfixated on your pretty face as you fall apart, and the face you make when he doesn’t stop?

When he keeps his fingers on that cute clit of yours, still rubbing and pressing and making you feel good even as you gasp and whine about how it’s too much?

Well, it makes Uvogin grin, pearly teeth on display as he tells you to take it baby, be a good girl for me, yeah?

He likes the way you squirm and beg for him, your legs shaking like crazy and your abdomen visibly clenching and unclenching.

He likes the way you get so sensitive and grasp onto him like he’s your lifeline, pushing him to get you off twice, three times, four times, sometimes even five in a single session.

Of course, he likes seeing you pleasured, but there’s a bit of selfishness at play too – because when you’re holding him so tightly and moaning out in that perfect voice of yours please – please Uvogin (he’s not sure whether you’re begging for him to stop or for more – and he suspects you’re not sure either), how can he not feel utterly self-satisfied?

How can he not feel like a good lover, not feel like your dependence on him is growing more and more with each orgasm?

He views it as a good way to simultaneously get you a trembling mess for him and to also solidify your growing feelings for him - plus, he gets to lick his fingers clean of your wonderful taste while also getting to sink himself inside your soaking wet, twitching, hypersensitive cunt already practically milking him for everything he’s got…

It doesn’t take him long to come after that, and the sight of you exhausted, twitching, and leaking thick, white globs of cum is positively droolworthy.

Femdom

But in a very specific way – you’ll never be truly in charge in bed with him, if only because there’s not a single submissive bone in Uvogin’s body.

Sex with him is under his terms and conditions, but he’s generous enough to care about your pleasure and your desires, too.

That said, Uvo is incredibly entertained by your attempts at dominating him – it’s not necessarily hot or attractive, but it’s incredibly endearing and sweet, and serves to make his heart melt and his cock swell with the knowledge that eventually he will be shattering this fragile illusion of control you’re creating.

He likes when you get on top of him, your poor hips struggle to straggle the expanse of his own, his cock pressing harshly and insistently against your ass while you bite your lip and steel yourself.

He likes the way you try to move his arms over his head forcefully (you aren’t actually moving them, even if you think you are – he’s letting you, manually moving them for you, letting you believe that you’re doing it when it reality it’s all him), seeing the way your eyes light up and your thighs squeeze around his hips tighter.

He likes the way you lean down to kiss him, your tongue rushing into his mouth, your kisses noticeably more aggressive than usual but still nothing particularly dominant.

And yet, Uvogin lets you take the lead, letting you control the pacing, the angle, everything just to maintain this illusion of dominance.

He’ll let you tie the blindfold around his head, limiting his vision but not hindering any of his other senses, conveniently forgetting to mention to you that he can still feel your every breath, hear your every movement, practically taste what you’re going to do next.

He’ll let you slowly sink down onto his length, pulling back every few moments to tease his length and leave him wanting more.

Uvogin will take it all in stride, entertained at the way you try to be dominant and in control, only to shatter it once he decides you’ve had your fun, once you pull off of him one too many times and leave his cock wet, throbbing and needing your pussy so badly it hurts –

It’s not hard to rip his wrists out of the dingey bindings you’d placed them in earlier, fingers immediately digging into the plush of your hips to force you back down onto him, setting a brutal pace combined with his own thrusting hips and moving your body up and down so that every brush of his cock into you leaves you gasping, panting for air because it’s all so unexpected and he’s just so deep and big and god…

You can try being dominant all you want, because he finds it entertaining and endearing, but know that at the end of the day you will be the one at his mercy, your body simply his to toy with and tease as he sees fit.

BIGGEST FANTASY:

It's no secret that Uvogin is possessive – you’ll learn this from the very moment you become aware of his feelings for you. He firmly, whole-heartedly views you as his, just as he is yours.

And in the context of your sexual relationship, this mindset of his is only more apparent, more blatantly obvious with the way he clutches onto you and tells you how much he loves his little pussy between your legs, the way he leaves bruises on your hips and ass from smacking you or holding on just a bit too tight while he’s fucking you, or even sinking his teeth lightly into the flesh of your shoulder so that you’re marked as his.

It satisfies the intense desire he feels to keep you by his side and away from everyone else, all with the added benefit of getting you writhing and moaning his name.

And so, most of Uvo’s fantasies in the bedroom tend to branch off from his possessiveness – specifically, while it would be unlikely to happen, he desperately, desperately, wants to fuck you in a semi-public space so that his fellow Troupe members can hear.

He wants them to hear you screaming his name, your pleas and cries sounding like music to his ears and showing them exactly who gets to touch you, who makes you feel good, who’s allowed to dump fresh, potent cum in your cute little hole.

It makes him giddy, genuinely, excitement brewing in his chest because he loves the idea of publicly claiming you, about making sure that everyone knows that you’re his, that every part of you belongs to him.

He likes everyone knowing that only he gets to touch you and make you moan and scream, that it’s only ever his name that’ll be leaving those pretty lips of yours.

Plus, this fantasy fulfills that possessive urge without actually letting other people see you – he can’t stomach the thought of any of his fellow Troupe members actually seeing your naked body or the way you look at the height of your pleasure – Shizuku can’t ogle like she does, Shalnark can’t fist his cock to the sight of your tits bouncing, and even Franklin can’t swallow and ghost a hand over his crotch at the sight of your body taking his too-big cock.

It’s perfect, a fantasy that he’s harbored since the early days of his infatuation with you – and while it’ll take a while for him to actually act out, he wants nothing more than to utterly claim you all while his friends can hear.

“You gonna scream for me baby?” Uvogin grunts, his hips snapping into yours just a bit harder.

Everything feels like too much – he’s holding you up against the wall, the cold brick digging into your back just mixing with the onslaught of pleasure his cock is giving you, bullying its way inside you and leaving you clenching down on him with every thrust. He’s so big – stretching you out nearly past your limits, making you drool and moan and shake, thoroughly destroying you long before he’s even bothering to reach for your clit.

You’re a mess already, and Uvogin knows it. It makes him smirk, staving off his own orgasm in favor of making sure he fucks you just right, just to make sure the rest of the Troupe can hear you on the other side of the wall.

“I can’t hear you.” He growls, burying his face in your neck and biting his lip to hold his release at bay. It’s hard to – you’re so damn tight and warm around him, and each time he pushes just the tiniest bit deeper inside you, you squeeze up like a vice, massaging and pulsing around him so well that it makes his knees weak.

“Fuck, Uvo Uvo Uvo Uvo -!” You’re chanting his name, the words slurred together and sounding strained, and it only makes him thrust into you harder, enough force landing on each push of his hips that it physically gets you bouncing, even mid-air.

He can hear faint, muffled talking from the other side of the wall, and it only makes him bare his teeth, lightly biting the shell of your ear. His fingers dig into your thighs, his grip on them firm and tight.

“Shit baby, tell them who’s fucking you like this,” He starts, only to cut himself off with a groan when you clench down on him particularly hard. His hips stutter for just a moment, and you claw at his back at the sensation.

“It – it’s you, Uvogin!” Your voice is strained and slurred, and it makes Uvogin grin.

“Who’s cock is this perfect little pussy taking? Who’s it belong to, huh?” His voice is gravely and deep, husky and making your toes curl as your eyes roll to the back of your head.

“Uvogin Uvogin Uvogin!” You’re practically screaming at this point, and he hears a dull thud from the next room over.

He barks out a laugh and buries his face into your neck, forcing his hips to go faster, harder, deeper, anything to get you louder.

And it’s working – you’re physically trembling, hips twitching and jerking wildly in his grasp, a non-sensical slurry of words spilling from your lips that make his heart and cock ache, each sound you make sending him closer and closer to his end.

“Tell me what you want baby, fuck fuck fuck, tell me where you want it.”

“Inside! Please Uvo, inside, need it inside me –“ You’re blabbering, but he doesn’t mind. A finger comes down to roughly press circles against your sensitive clit, and your reaction is immediate – you tense up, every muscle in your body seizing up as the pleasure mounts and mounts, his hips never stilling and drilling into that spot inside you over and over and over again –

You come with a scream of his name, your cunt fluttering wildly around him, squeezing and pulsing and massaging him in a way that gets his knees scarily close to buckling, his own orgasm right on the brink as he presses you even tighter against the wall, leaving no space to breath as he literally fucks you into the brick.

“Don’t you dare stop,” He warns you, each word punctuated by a sharp thrust.

Another loud bang comes from the other side of the wall, and Uvogin freezes for just a moment as he hears the faintest sound of panting, of someone cursing under their breath, of something muttering out an oh fuck…

He comes with a loud groan of your name, spurts of warm, thick cum settling inside you and making you cry out again, the sound music to his ears. A muffled groan sounds from the other side of the wall, and pride swims in Uvo’s gut as he watches you try to recover, your body shaking and your lips all swollen from biting them. He kisses you, hard, his tongue slipping into your mouth immediately, before helping you stand on your own and paddle to the bathroom to clean up.

Once the shower starts running, Uvogin sighs and slips out the door, walking into the other room with a smirk spread across his lips. Feitan, Phinks and Nobunaga all look at him, the first with a disgusted look, the second with a noticeable blush, and the third with dazed eyes, clearly in the aftershocks of his own pleasure.

Uvogin laughs, settling a hand on his hip. “Like what you heard, huh?”

Nobuanga nods, Phinks’s blush only settles deeper, and Feitan snorts.

Uvogin’s smile drops at that, his nen flaring up. “Too bad you’ll never even touch her.”

His cock twitches at the mere thought, and soon he’s sliding open the glass door of the bathroom, pressing your chest against the tile wall, determined to see if his friends can still hear you over the sound of the rushing water.

#yandere hxh #yandere hunter x hunter #yandere uvogin #hxh smut #_hxh #_uvogin #_lee's profiles

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obeymematches · 27 days

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MC acting oblivious!

since you're accepting hcs now, how about an mc whos a big tease/bully (aka mammons worst nightmare lol)? im quick to realize when someone has a crush on me and when i like them back i turn into the biggest tease on earth until the other person confesses. im good at acting oblivious so its always "wait, they cant possibly know i like them, right??" poor, poor souls lmao. so im wondering how the brothers+undateables would handle an mc like that! keep up the great work! 💕

Hi, good to see you again !!! <3

okay i love this so much lets go !

Lucifer:

Okay so in his case it’s mentioned several times that he is in love with the MC so this ain’t just some crush he’s being teased about but that’s one of the reasons why he loves you so much.

He is rather guarded emotianlly as his pride isn’t going to let him just fall for anyone. But once he does he is not going to deny it!

Lucifer is someone who will ask you out on a date without a warning. The only thing you might notice beforehead is that he spends suspiciously lots of his time with you. (by a lot in his case I mean something in between 30 and 60 mins every second day. he’s a busy man)

Him: My schedule is tight today but I would like to spend time with you, MC, would you care to join me at a confectionary? MC: sounds like you’re very busy, are you sure about that? 🥺 Him, slightly offended but still lovingly: Yes, MC. Let me express myself better... would you please have a date with me today? MC: oh....um-

Mammon:

● oh god, oh jesus, oh no

● We all know The Great Mammon has a hard time admitting his feelings out loud, with words, bluntly.

● So the way I see it, the situation is about to be Awkward As Hell.

● Mammon is clearly sweating, butterflies occupying his entire stomach, he fiddles with his nails.

● Him: So MC, I was thinking- I mean I'm thinking- wanna go skating with me tonight?

MC: Oh that's a very romantic idea- but I think friends don't just go skating, you know.

Him: Friends??! I don't wanna be just your friend MC-

You: Then? Then what?

Him: Goddamn I- I just want to be yours- Jesus ya are makin' it so difficult MC, it is not easy as is!!

Leviathan:

● ahh the frustrated face he makes through this conversation isn't just a facade. He really is stressing right now.

● Him: MC.... there is something I must tell you. And you only. Please listen and don't tell anyone!

MC: Don't worry Levi, I too hate people who gossip-

Him: No it's not like that. I have a desire in my heart that I must share with you as you are the most special person I ever met and I can only hope you feel the same way for me and- I feel so embarassed but I've been meaning to ask you this- would you be my partner? My player 2?

MC: well if you wanted me to play you could have just said so like you always do-

Levi: What?? Is that what you understood? No MC you don't get it! Ahhh I knew I shouldn't have asked you my chances with you are close to zero-

MC: Wait Levi I'm so sorry-

Satan:

● You could tell he was acting different these past couple of days. He was texting you more, he offered to spend more time with you- it was obvious he likes you.

● He knocked on your bedroom door and as you liked him just as much as he liked you, of course you let him in.

● I think you acting like you don't know what's going on turns him on? Like he know you ain't stupid. He knows you like him at least a little bit too, otherwise he wouldn't be here talking with you.

● Him: So MC, are you free now?

MC: Well, it depends on how you define "free" I think.

Him: Oh quit it please.

MC: I would if I knew what you were up to right now-

Him: Alright. You are going to make it more complicated, I see. In this case, meet me at 4PM at the common room. Please. I'd like to take you on a date if you're free.

MC: Inside the house? Weird if you ask me-

Him: ...... you are right actually. Let's meet at the park then. Don't be late.

Asmo:

● Again he would absolutely love you acting like you noticed nothing when he couldn't be more clear about what he wants.

● He knows this game though & he is quicker than you are.

● Him, cuddling you: So MC I have been thinking about us....what are we?

● MC: We are.... the best. Me, a human, and you, a demon.

Him: Nooooo, you know that's not what I meant!!!

MC: Well I don't know what you mean Asmo. Aren't we though?

Him: Aren't we what? A human and a demon?? Ahhhhg stop playing with me MC!

Beelzebub:

● Ohh babe is going to believe you actually don't know what' going on-

● I think he'd find it funny when he realizes you were just acting like such-

Him: MC. I like you.

MC: Okay, I like you too. That's why I'm your friend.

Him: Yes we are friends I know... but to me you are the first person I want to talk to if anything happens, good or bad... you are on my mind all the time, no matter what- I haven't felt like this in my entire life- you are the most special person to me, MC.

MC: Ohhh... I didn't realize-

Him: I only went out with Mammon yesterday because I thought... I was hoping you'd be there to, that you'd join... I just wanted to spend more time with you. But you weren't there. Let's go somewhere together today- I mean, if you want to-

Belphegor:

● MC you are about to annoy him to deatg to be fair.

● Depending on his mood he might join you though!!!

Him: So human- I mean MC. Let's hang out today.

MC: We already do.

Him: I meant as a date, stop playing stupid.

MC: I don't like being called stupid. Is this how you are asking me out on a date??

Him: See I knew you knew what I meant!

MC: Why would you ask me on a date though, aren't we just friends?

Him: .....

Him: We could change that- I want to be your one and only.

MC: Well if you are my one and only friend I might get lonely when you're too busy for me though-

Him: Stop it don't say another word. Are you coming today or not? MC? You listening?

MC: you just asked me to shut up-

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prismatic-bell · 1 year

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I’ve seen some posts going around about how only dummies think nuclear power is dangerous, so I want to just put it out there, in the hope that maybe I’ll create a bit of understanding:

Provided storage space is adequate, I’m not afraid of nuclear power.

I’m afraid of THE COMPANIES THAT PRODUCE nuclear power.

Let me explain.

I know new nuclear power plants have more failsafes than there are stars in the sky. And that’s great…as long as they were designed correctly, the pieces were all manufactured correctly, and nobody lied.

I know nuclear power plants are subject to strenuous inspections. And that’s great…as long as the inspectors actually check everything regularly as scheduled and nobody lies.

I know nuclear storage barrels are safety-tested. And that’s great…as long as they’re manufactured correctly, buried where they’re supposed to be, and nobody lies.

Because here’s the thing. I’ve watched a pretty fair amount of videos on nuclear disasters both power plant-related and otherwise. And every single one, every single one, can be traced back to the same source: someone lied in order to save money.

Plant maintenance is neglected to save money.

Plant inspections are neglected to save money.

Plants that say “dear Company That Produces This Critical Part Of Our Infrastructure, this piece keeps failing even though we’re using it correctly, please advise” will get ignored or accused of lying/user error, so The Company That Produces Etc. can save money. One case I saw involved a piece of cancer-radiation machinery that was shooting people (seemingly) at random with lethal doses of radiation, and the production company went “we investigated ourselves and found nothing wrong, are you sure you’re not just stupid?” Turns out they’d never even included a user manual with a piece of lifesaving-but-also-potentially-lethal machinery…to save money. And there were many, MANY things wrong with the machine, actually, as was discovered when an outside agency did an investigation.

This is not a problem unique to nuclear power. But if a wind turbine is seated wrong, it can be dismantled and reseated elsewhere (expensive but not unfixable). If a coal plant catches fire (heaven forbid), the result is absolutely Really Not Good but the worst of it can be fixed in just a couple of years, and we understand the potential related health problems enough to treat them. If a hydro plant isn’t working right, it’s not going to fry the entire ocean.

But if a nuclear plant blows because—and again, I stress this is what has happened IN EVERY NUCLEAR DISASTER IN HISTORY—a company lied to save money, that’s 26,000 years the affected land may be uninhabitable. You can cover your face with a mask or shirt to get away from coal ash while you evacuate. There is absolutely nothing the average civilian can do to protect themselves from nuclear fallout while they evacuate. And unlike coal ash, just a few minutes of that initial radioactive exposure can be enough to kill you. There’s no going back, either—lungs can be flushed, but mutated or even shredded DNA can’t be fixed.

Let me be clear, I DO NOT want coal power forever. (To me, the future is solar.) I think it’s wasteful, environmentally toxic, inefficient, ecologically devastating and unsustainable. But I question if nuclear is the way forward not because of the dangers inherent in what’s in a nuclear reactor—I question if nuclear is the way forward because there are too many greedy people with too much to gain from pinching lifesaving pennies.

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factual-fantasy · 10 months

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Happy 1st Birthday Jangles!!

This post was originally going to be a humongous comic filled with lore, goofs, and even a bit of angst? 👀 And then have a funny/wholesome ending. Just like Bibi’s birthday comic.

But.. I ran into a problem. I didn’t know what to get for Jangles.

For Bibi’s present it was obvious what to get him. He wanted a real friend. Bringing Jangles to life was perfect and really tied the whole comic together.

But Jangles? What does he want?

I wracked my brain for days. And when I finally thought of an idea? I only had 8 days left to make it happen. Sketch the comic out on paper, sketch it again in digital, line it, color it, backgrounds, dialogue.. I also had to make the actual present so that its picture could be used in the comic. All while having a very busy schedule for this week AND while working on Moon Malfunction..

I thought I could pull it off. So I got to sketching right away.

The comic would start with me in a big black blob. Locking myself away to try and get this project done as fast as possible. You know, like a total drama queen XD

Bibi and Jangles break in, and Bibi tries to talk to me but I ignore him. Meanwhile Jangles goes over to this goopy present by the wall. The present has a tag with Jangles name on it. As he goes to open it I do a spoopy jump scare and tell him not to. Jangles and I then proceed to go back and fourth. “Why not?” Because its not good enough yet. “I’m sure its fine, what is it? What’s it for?” I cant tell you what its for because its not that day yet. “What is that day? And why cant we know about it?” “BECAUSE, its a S E C R E T-”

Bibi then says I need a break. I tell him I cant because I’m running out of time. I tell him that it needs to be posted on a specific day and that it has to be perfect but I don’t know what to do..

Jangles then deadpans “Its my birthday isn’t it?”

“...Yes. It is.”

“Okay? So what? I get wanting to post it on the day. But why all this pressure for the perfect gift?”

I explain that Bibi got a big special comic for his birthday. It had all the bells and whistles and it had the perfect gift. Jangles. And I wanted to do the same for him. I explained that the problem though was I haven’t really written enough of Jangles character to know what he would want.. I then wrote for Jangles response to be,

“Well what I dont want is you stressing yourself out over me.”

..I stopped sketching the comic at that point. I realized that I was stressing myself out way too much over this comic. It was 1 in the morning at that point. I was already pushing myself so hard to get this done on time and make it perfect that all the fun was just zapped right out of it.

But I still worried a bit. I care about Jangles as my character and I wanted to do something cool for him. I wanted to post this at midnight on the dot, but that would require me to stay up until then when I’m still wiped out from the day before.. I also still wanted to get him a cool present.. But again I figured Jangles wouldn’t want me to stress over this “big comic” and “special gift” stuff. So I just settled for a break.

This entire post was prepared early, and posted when ever I was awake enough to post it. All the days beforehand I spent just taking my time with Moon Malfunction and focusing on my schedule. And on the day I’m posting it, I plan to draw nothing. Just relax and take a break from everything. I’ll get back around to all my projects tomorrow.

I think a post with minimal effort and day of no Tumblr, is probably exactly what Jangles would have wanted. So Happy Birthday Jangles! And thanks for the day off! XD

#bibi and jangles #my original stuff #Happy Birthday Jangles!

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bsdtrash · 1 year

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Ranpo, Poe, Junichiro, and Oda as bottoms!!

18+ content below the tags! Minors DNI

- What a fucking brat. Like no for real this man is gonna be such a power bottom and so bratty too. Like you have your work cut out for you as his top.

- This little shit loves playing his mind games and pushing you to your limit! Will be saying things like “Oh? Is that really all you can do?” Just egging you on!

- Needless to say he won’t ‘shy’ away from some punishment. Probably comes off as bored until you really get him going. This brat will really have the audacity to yawn and check his phone until you really give him what he’s asking for.

- To me Ranpo comes off as the type to be into some kinky shit, honestly between him and Dazai I don’t know who is more kinky.

- Please pull his hair and make his head crane back, he’ll let out the sluttiest moan you’ve ever heard.

- This man is so out of pocket when it comes to anything, like feel free to choke him and spit in his mouth he’ll love that.

- Ranpo has no issue demanding what he wants in bed, when you finally work him into a needy state he’ll be begging and directing you without batting a single eye.

- This man is willing to try almost any kink once, could also see him being in to voyeurism since he’s such an attention whore.

- Speaking of him being an attention whore he definitely has a praise kink. Call him the best detective in the world and you got him kicking his feet and giggling.

- Also has a SLIGHT degradation kink call him your pretty little slut and just see what happens! This gross brat is also the type to make you do all the cleaning!

- POOOOOOOOOOOE OMG!!! THIS ROMANTIC BITCH BOY IS GONNA BE ONE OF THE BIGGEST BOTTOMS EVER!

- Hold his slutty little waist while he whimpers and withers around in pleasure! Ya’ll are gonna have a safe word because when this man says stop he doesn’t really mean it.

- Like he’s saying stop because he’s feeling a lot of pleasure but if you actually do stop he’ll whine and look at you as though you just insulted him.

- A messy bottom for sure! Drool is running down his chin and tears are running down his cheeks!

- Is really into overstimulation, don’t let that boy leave the bed until his legs are jello, I’m telling you with the stress he carries he definitely needs it.

- The type to have a goofy smile and feel dazed by the end of it. Please hold him and gently run your fingers along his back to bring him back to reality.

- Is a completely embarrassed wreck when he realizes how loud he was. It happens every single time and he tries to keep his voice down but it never works!

- The noise complaints from the neighbors are never-ending, your apartment owner at this point is threatening to kick you out.

- You’ve tried using a gag once but well, who would want to muffle Ranpo’s pretty little voice huh?

- That being said ya’ll keep a pillow close by for Ranpo to bite on to for when he’s getting a little too loud.

- PILLOW PRINCE!!! This man was made for the bottom life tbh ( I picture him as a switch with a bottom leaning tendencies)

- Has no issue laying back and letting you take complete control, you’ve earned his entire trust the second you two started dating. Don’t be afraid to boss him around he likes that!

- Treat him gentle though, he’s only slightly kinky, and is surprisingly delicate! He easily bruises so make sure to put that mouth of yours to good work!

- SENSITIVE! Please don’t make fun of him when he orgasms too quickly, he tries so hard but poor thing isn’t used to feeling so good, not to mention being provided such pleasure from someone he loves.

- Lets face it you milk this man dry and he loves every single second of it, by the end he’s dry orgasming and sobbing from the pleasure. Please have mercy on him!

- His body has the after trembles and he is CLINGING to you! Stay by his side while his body calms down or he’ll start to cry.

- Once he stops trembling please go run ya’ll a bath, Junichiro really thrives off of the aftercare part.

- Make sure when you bathe together he’s laying in your lap and you’re washing his hair! Careful though because he may fall asleep.

- Whisper in his ear sweet little things you love about him while you help clean him and please be mindful of your hands.

- Junichiro will drink up all the love you give him and simply respond with his own words of encouragement while trying to stay awake.

- Oda is one of the more silent bottoms that you have to earn the trust of ( Similar to Dazai and Akutagawa)

- This man has spent so many years taking care of others that he can’t even recall the last time someone had gone out of their way to take care of him.

- It’s hard to top Oda since he just naturally falls in to the role of taking care of you and topping you. That is unless you specifically tell him that you want to top him he won’t get the hint.

- Once you do confide your desires with him then he will try his hardest to fulfill them. He wants to provide you with as much happiness as he possibly can.

- Please go slow with him at first, the feeling of you attending to his needs is unusual but not unpleasant.

- He’s gonna be a bit stiff at first and a little quiet, but once you loosen him up with some kisses he’ll slowly relax.

- He’s surprisingly a soft bottom, please hold his hands and make sure to look in to his eyes as much as possible, he finds it intimate, he feels vulnerable but he enjoys it and wants to hear you say that you love him.

- Oda is the type to enjoy giving pleasure as much as he enjoys receiving it so don’t be afraid to sit on his face either!

- Afterwards he’ll try to get up and take care of the aftercare so you’ll have to put him in his place and remind him that you’re taking care of him tonight.

- This definitely won’t be the last time you top him, he’ll request to bottom on nights when he’s feeling stressed or tired!

#bsd #bsd smut #bsd x reader #bsd x y/n #edogawa ranpo imagines #ranpo x y/n #ranpo x reader #poe x reader #poe smut #ranpo smut #tanizaki junichirou #junichiro x reader #junichirou smut #oda x reader #oda smut

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lxvenderdreamy · 11 months

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🍓♡Saiki Kusuo Confessing his love to a S/o who is quiet♡🍓

When Saiki took attention to how quiet you were then everyone else, he actually took a liking to you.

He started to acknowledge you. Kinda like how he did with Satou…can’t have you getting weirded out.

Saiki has actually seen you speak to other people but never to him. At first he didn’t care but soon enough it got to him.

Why did you speak to everyone else but him?

Before your relationship with Saiki, you never acknowledged him or spoke to him yet you acknowledged everyone around you and spoke to people around you.

When it finally hits Saiki’s mind that you may only speak to people who your close to, that becomes his main goal. He simply just has to befriend you so that you’d befriend him.

Surely you can’t be that hard of a person to befriend right? He kept a close eye on you and he really didn’t think that it would be hard, you were nice to everyone around you so why not.

…But it indeed was hard. How could it be hard for someone like Saiki?

Was it you? No, of course not it wasn’t you! Was it Saiki’s very stupid friends? Surprisingly…no. Was it Saiki? Yes.

Something about you just made him feel a certain way. When he tried to make his first move, he just couldn’t do it. But why was he feeling this way?

Then a damn bus knocked him in a the head and he finally know why he acting this way. He had a crush on you. How sweet.

He thought that going back into acting like he never knew you, never knew that you even existed would help. But no. It didn’t. You were on his mind constantly everyday, everytime, anywhere. It made his head hurt. It almost made him think you were putting a spell on him..but he debunked that rather quickly because who can blame a precious person like you for something like that? Wait-what was he even thinking?

Things got even fucking worse when his idiotic group of friends started to realize and see signs. He was a prisoner in hell at this point.

What added something was how Toritsuka kept flirting with you. It made him jealous.

After all the stupid crap his friends tried and did, he needed to put matters into his own hands in the worst way possible. Confessing his love to you.

It was on the rooftop, classic. Before, he put a note on your desk and awaited for your appearance (while also making sure nobody touched it, or see him put it there.)

You were pretty confused, but also nervous. What if Toritsuka put it there..? But you went up to the roof anyway, it was After school hours.

To your surprise, it was Saiki from your class. You never talked to him..but he sure did try to talk to you. But his friends got in the way or he would back out…

You were so surprised when Saiki confessed his liking to you, as well as his feelings. It was the first time you’ve ever heard him talk…but yet you felt a small tint rise to your cheeks when you heard those words.

It sure didn’t look like it on the outside, but he was stressing.

Yet he felt all of that stress go away when you suddenly hugged him, he felt like he was overheating. You had accepted his feelings, you also expressed yours, saying how you just were too scared to come forward and talk to him.

After that was done and over, he walked you home, feeling like a whole entire weight was lifted off of his shoulders. You both said your goodbyes before you both parted ways.

The first week of your relationship was slow, but you guys picked it up. You guys were closer and you were seen together all the time.

When word got out, everyone was shocked. Teruhashi wasn’t so..fond of you guys but hey who cares, this is y’all’s life.

You two are happily together and Saiki’s family loves you, treats you as if your their very own daughter.

Saiki loves you a lot and cares for you, he’s happy to be around and be with someone who isn’t such a nuisance, before or after you two were in a relationship, it was all good memories that is very beautiful to think and remember about.

#saiki k #saiki headcanons #kusuo saiki #saiki x reader #kusuo x reader #fluff #the disastrous life of saiki k.#nendou saiki k #teruhashi kokomi #kaidou shun #aiura mikoto #hairo kineshi #toritsuka reita #[🍓]

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anxiousnerdwritings · 5 months

Note

Peppermint Anon would like to ask if you have any general yandere headcanons for Duplikate from Invincible? Peppermint Anon understands if you aren't taking requests at this time and thus will humbly apologise.

Yandere Kate Cha/DupliKate Headcanons (general)

You can say goodbye to any and all alone time you once had. All personal space will also be a given with Kate in your life now. You won’t ever be alone again, something Kate promised very early on. A promise she never plans to break.

She is extremely clingy but not physically so, like she isn’t hanging off of you but she is glued to your side, attached to the hip really. She really likes to be in your presence, she feels content, whole even. There isn’t anywhere else she’d rather be than with you.

Kate has no problem monopolizing all of your time, whether it’s her or her clones, she just can’t take someone else having your attention. It’s not like she’s trying to be controlling over what you do or don’t do. You can still do a good majority of what you want but she just wants to be right there along with you while you go about whatever. She gets extremely anxious and on edge when she isn’t with you, no matter how little those times are when she actually is totally away from you. Kate just has a really hard time being able to separate herself from you even for the tiniest amount of time.

She isn’t the most trusting of those around you either, even if they are her own teammates. Kate just can’t willingly put her trust in anyone to be able to protect or care for you like she can. The only one she can really trust you with is herself (i.e. her and her clones). Noboby else is capable or rather worthy enough to be by your side. To take her place.

It starts out small, almost insignificant when Kate first begins occupying your time. At first it’s just her and her alone. Then one clone gets added to the mix, and then another, and another until eventually your entire friend group has all become just Kate. She’s able to isolate you now, the she wanted from so early on. You can still have your ‘friends’ though, of course you can, but Kate will still always be right there. An overseeing presence completely unwavering in her rightful place where she belongs. And she sure as hell is here to stay.

To say Kate can be spoiling is an understatement. She and her clones are extremely attentive towards their darling, no matter the relationship. She wants to make sure her darling is taken care of to the fullest extent and she’s the only one who can ensure that they are. To an extent, Kate’s darling will be handled and tended to like a doll. She and her clones will help her darling get ready; they will assist in dressing you, brushing/styling your hair, picking out and putting your clothes on for you. Kate especially relishes in being able to bathe her darling. Kate’s favorite thing is being able to take a long, hot shower or bath with her darling (platonic or romantic) after a long day, and get them and herself ready for bed, spending the rest of that time with her and her clones all cuddled up together with their darling right in the middle as they sleep the stress of the day away.

Kate doesn’t really do punishments, she never felt she had to. Now that doesn’t mean she’s completely forgone the idea or the necessity of punishments, but as of right now she feels she doesn’t need to go that route. She’s already pretty much monopolized you to just her, the most she may do for a punishment is isolating you even from herself. Even the mere thought of having to do that throws Kate into a near panic attack. She would much rather avoid it altogether but if it’s a must than she knows she can find it in herself to get through it. After all, if it’s what needs to happen to further ‘improve’ your guys’ relationship than so be it. At the end of the day all that matters is you and her, and she’ll do anything to keep it that way.

Now with a romantic obsession, Kate has much more creative forms of punishment for them that she takes full advantage of. She’s much more willing to partake in punishments with her darling in this case. As far as she sees it these kind of punishments bring you and her closer together, she gets to show you just how much you mean to her while still being able to get a point across too. But honestly, she can’t leave her darling without for too long.

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luxaofhesperides · 7 months

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greener on the other side.

Danny makes a habit out of hopping into portals and exploring he places he ends up. It just so happens that this time, he ends up in Gotham right as the Signal begins his patrol. Duke meets the strangest, funniest, cutest guy on the roof of the Gotham City Public Library. He knows Batman would not approve of literally anything he’s doing, but sue him, he wants a meta friend and this guy seems to up for it. – OR: how Duke and Danny got together despite having secret identities and living different dimensions.

chapter two: how it grows - 10.7k

read chapter one here or the entire fic on ao3.

here's the duke pov! one chapter left from danny's pov, then this fic is complete and i can get started on the rest of the series focusing on their relationship! . . .

Duke doesn’t like to make a big deal of things. He’ll try to handle things on his own and roll with the punches. As long as he keeps his cool, things will work out.

Unfortunately, feelings are not one of the things that just ‘work out on their own’ and he has to admit that he might just need some outside help for this. The problem, then, becomes a question of who he can go to.

He’s come a long way since he was part of the We Are Robin gang and knows that he can rely on the rest of the Bats for help. He’s one of them, something that still feels surreal when he thinks about it for too long, but Duke has his place with them both in and out of the mask. He gets along well enough with Damian, trains often with Jason, bothers Dick for help when he gets in over his head, and makes fun of Bruce with Tim and Cass and Steph.

They’re good people and he trusts them. They’re messy, with lots of history and fights between them all, but what family isn’t like that?

They’re good people and he wants to ask them for help, but Duke can’t bring himself to go to the Manor. They’re all just… Some of the advice they give him for his civilian life is suspect at best. So instead, he’s going back to Jay’s house, hoping his cousin will have some normal advice for him.

Though he spends a decent amount of time with the Waynes, Jay technically still has custody of him; Duke doesn’t want to leave his family behind at all, not if he has any other choice, but he knows that looking after a teenager while being single and not having the biggest paycheck is stressful. Plus, it allows less time for any resentment to spring up between them with the amount of secrets Duke is hiding from him.

As unprepared for him as Jay was, he still does his best. He’s waiting in the living room when Duke arrives, dropping his keys into the dish on the side table in the entrance hallway. A bowl of popcorn and two glasses of ice tea are set on the coffee table and Duke gladly takes one and drinks half in one go before he even sits down.

“Alright, man,” Jay says, “What’s going on? You never ask me for advice.”

Duke sighs. “It’s, uh… dating problems? I guess?”

“You guess?”

“I don’t actually know if it was a date or not and I need a second opinion.”

Jay gives him a long look. “Usually, just having to ask tends to mean it was a date and you just didn’t notice in time. You getting back with that Izzy girl?”

“No! We both decided to stay friends, and it’s not like we’ve been hanging out much at all since the break up. This is someone new.”

“Anyone I know?”

“Nah, he doesn’t live in Gotham.”

The smile falls from Jay’s face and he leans closer to Duke, suddenly growing serious. “If this is an internet friend, I’m going to have to lecture you on stranger danger. Come on man, I know you’re smarter than that.”

Duke shakes his head, pushing his cousin back into the couch. “No! No, no, definitely not! Do you really think I don’t know anything about internet safety? Not the point. The point is, he’s from out of town and he’s really cute and I spent most of yesterday just hanging out with him and took him to the best food trucks I could find. Was that a date?”

“Honestly? Sounds like it. Good for you man. Just make sure to let him know if you want the next one to officially be a date.”

See? Simple, normal advice. Jay is just telling him to communicate like a normal person. It’s not that simple, of course, since Duke isn’t going as Duke but as The Signal, but it’s still good advice. Once he finds the courage to ask Danny out on a proper date, he’ll do it in a way that leaves no confusion.

It won’t be any time soon, though. Not when they’ve just met and Danny doesn’t even know his name.

“It’s that easy, huh?”

“Sure is,” Jay grins. “How do you think I got all the girls when I was in school?”

“Is that also why you can’t get any dates now?”

“Alright, you little shit,” Jay laughs, throwing an arm around Duke’s shoulders to trap him in a noogie. “See if I give you advice ever again. Is this the thanks I get for looking after you?”

Duke can break free from his grip easily, but it’s been so long since he had a nice, easy interaction with his cousin that he just sinks into it, laughing. Time apart has made things better between them; there’s less stress involved with hiding his identity, and Jay isn’t worried out of his mind about raising Duke right while also making enough for rent and groceries.

“You staying the night?” Jay asks, finally releasing Duke.

“Nah, the Waynes want me over for game night and I really wanna see them try to kill each other. But I got a couple of hours until they’re expecting me.”

“Up for a movie?”

“Is it another zombie movie?”

“You know it.”

Duke shrugs. “Sure, put it on and I’ll try not to laugh too hard when you get scared.”

It’s nice and lets his mind finally stop spinning in circles, going over everything he can remember from his not-date with Danny. He’s missed spending time with his cousin even if living away from him is a lot less stressful. As great as the Waynes are, they can’t give him this.

What they can give him is chaos and embarrassment.

“Caught you slacking yesterday,” Jason says casually as he drops onto the couch next to him. Both of them watch as Steph and Damian team up to kill Bruce for taking all their properties in Monopoly, and Duke suddenly has a feeling that he should have stayed with Jay after all.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replies, “I’m never slacking as the Signal. I’ve never done a single thing wrong, ever, in my life.”

“Didn’t you lead a gang?”

“Didn’t you decapitate eight men?”

Jason pinches his side in retaliation, making Duke jump. “So, you pulling a Superman? Flirting with a civilian you saved?”

They didn’t go anywhere near Crime Alley. How did Jason just happen to stumble across them? He probably should have expected someone to have spotted him. None of the Waynes care too much for other people’s privacy.

“No,” Duke says slowly. He is flirting with a civilian, but Danny is not someone he saved. Danny is someone who helped him out when fighting crime, and is fun to be with. “I was just showing him around Gotham?”

Jason’s eyebrows go up. “An out of towner? Didn’t think they’d have the balls the stay in Gotham longer than a few hours.”

“Yeah, well, he’s not one to be scared away so easily.”

“And does this someone have a name? If he’s spending time with you, I wanna know his name.”

Duke side eyes him. “Why do you want to know?”

“Look, it’s good to keep an eye on any civilian that gets close to us. In case they’re a threat, and in case they get caught up in the bullshit that saturates every part of our lives. The longer they’re with us, the more danger they’re in. But I can help you look out for him. So: name?”

That is… a depressingly good point. Duke can’t save everyone despite how hard he tries. It would be good to have someone else looking out of Danny while he’s in Gotham, just in case.

“Danny. His name’s Danny.”

“No last name?”

“I don’t know it. Look man, I only met him two days ago. He’s a meta like me and he’s not from Gotham. That’s about all I know.”

“That’s it?”

“Again, we literally just met. If he decides to keep coming around, then I’ll learn more about him.”

Jason gives him an assessing look, then gives him a sharp grin. “Oh, I’m sure he’ll be coming back for you. Boy was giving you doe eyes the entire time he was with you. Don’t drag him along too much, yeah? Poor thing’s got it bad for you.”

“He does not!”

“I’m not blind, Narrows. And I know you saw it too.”

That’s the problem. He did see how flustered and cute Danny was around him, always finding some way to bump into him or have their arms brush as they stood around, always sticking close as they soared through the air almost close enough to hug. It was cute, so adorable that Duke wanted to squish his cheeks and also lie face down on the ground. But it wasn’t Duke who was causing Danny to blush was the slightest of touches. It was the Signal, the daytime hero, and Duke knows they can’t build anything good together when it’s built on a foundation of secrets.

Danny’s got his own secrets too. Being a meta is only one of them and he’s not sure he’ll ever get to know those parts of Danny when the guy can just choose to never return to Gotham again.

That doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to try. It’s stupid and reckless when they’ve only known each other for two days but no one has ever made him feel so normal before. Even in the midst of using their powers and hopping around Gotham fighting crime, there was a sense that they understood each other, that their lives rhymed and it made everything so easy and comfortable between them.

“And?” Duke sighs. “He doesn’t even know my name. It’s not really anything right now, okay? We just get each other and it’s nice to spend time with someone like that.”

“Want me to find him for you?”

“Please don’t.”

Jason shrugs. “Alright, your loss.” He looks back to where Bruce is calmly stealing Steph’s Monopoly money as she has her arms around his throat, trying to choke him as she clings to his back. Damian is trying to steal everything back. None of them have caught on to the fact that Tim and Cass have teamed up and have taken over the bank and are steadily taking properties on the board, fully and shamelessly cheating.

He’s so glad he chose to sit this game out.

Jason seems content with leaving the conversation there, so Duke cuts his losses and leaves before Tim and Cass have to fend off everyone else and turn this entire game night into a blood bath.

It’s not like anyone’s going to win against Cass anyways.

Duke fully intends to go up to his room and get a full eight hours of sleep while everyone else goes on patrol. He’ll take some time to think about how excited he is to see Danny again when he brings his friends over next week, but only for a bit. His sleep is so important.

Batman could never compare to how much he values his sleep.

He’s got good priorities, okay? He’s not changing them for anything.

Instead of sleeping, though, he ends up laying on his bed for hours, all his thoughts swirling around in a restless tangle. This is why he can’t ask the Waynes for advice on Normal People Shit. They just make him overly paranoid and sure that everything is going to go wrong.

Danny’s a mystery. He didn’t feel like one when they met; Danny was just an average citizen standing on top of a building, and the Signal had a duty to check up on him.

But when Danny turned to face him, his eyes were a bright blue, practically glowing, and there was a light emanating out of his chest, as if he tucked a star into his ribcage. No normal human looked like that, and Duke would know. He’s seen a lot of weird shit with his powers, especially once they started affecting his eyes even more, but even people who dabble in magic didn’t look like that.

Danny had looked ethereal. Unreal. As if he wasn’t from this world at all. Like someone who had stepped out of a story and into the real world.

And he was fun.

That’s what’s tripping Duke up. He’s met other metas before. They tend to either be 1) homicidal, 2) depressed and traumatized, or 3) serious and heroic. Sure there were some that had a sense of humor, but it was just to keep the mood light as they went around saving people and being more Hero than Person.

That’s what Duke had become, growing into his role as the Signal until he worried that it was taking away from Duke Thomas. The other Bats seemed to have no problem with their various identities, or enjoyed being in the mask far more than they enjoyed taking it off. Duke, as he usually was, is the outlier.

It’s why he always has to wrestle with imposter syndrome, forcing himself to stick around until he can finally feel like he belongs with the heroes of Gotham. He can act unbothered as much as he wants. It will never change the fact that, at his heart, Duke is still the terrified and angry boy sneaking out of foster homes and orphanages to search for his parents, refusing to find a place in the world that wasn’t by their side.

As the only meta on the team, his powers are both a blessing and a curse. They’re another reminder that he’s the odd one out, the one who doesn’t fit in as easily as all the others, but also a tool that lets him help in ways no one else can.

He always has something to prove when he’s out as the Signal. He always has to make himself worth keeping around as Duke.

With Danny, all of that fell away.

Using his powers was fun with him. They darted around the city, from rooftop to rooftop, stopping crimes and teasing each other as they went. There was no pressure to conform or prove himself, just the easy joy of feeling the air rush by him as he swung through the skyline, hundreds of feet in the air.

It doesn’t hurt that Danny is cute, too.

Sighing, Duke rolls over and shoves his face into his pillow.

He hadn’t realized how lonely he was until he met another meta who wasn’t trying to attack him. Sure, he has other hero friends, but they’re either regular humans or not human at all. One day with another meta, just shooting the shit, enjoying their time together, makes him all too aware of how much he’s wanted something like this since his powers first manifested.

Jason said that Danny was down bad, but Duke’s not doing any better, honestly.

He can’t wait until he sees Danny again.

It takes putting on some soothing music and trying not to let all his thoughts drift back to Danny before Duke finally feels sleep take a hold of him and gladly gives into its embrace. . . .

The glow appears suddenly, a flash of light in the distance, and that’s all Duke needs before he takes down two muggers and zip ties their wrists together quickly. “Stay safe!” he calls to the victim, quickly grappling away as she glares at her attempted muggers. She’s looking rather violent, and if she wants to whack them over the head, then that’s her right.

Duke doesn’t need to worry about it. He’s already dealt with the problem and now he can make his way to Danny, falling into the familiar rhythm of catch, fall, and release as he chases after the cold star-glow of Danny.

He makes his way to the glow until he can see Danny standing on the roof of the mall in Diamond District. Duke stops a few buildings away, taking the time to catch his breath and make sure he’s in Signal mode instead of Duke Thomas.

Then, as prepared as he’ll ever be, he shoots his grapple out.

Danny and his friends are already facing him when he lands, eyes flickering between him and his grapple gun.

Duke tucks it away and offers them a small wave, giving Danny a soft smile.

“This is him!” Danny announces, turning to face his friends so he can do a little flourish and show off Duke. “This is the Signal, and he’s a legit hero here.”

A goth girl looks him over with an unimpressed gaze, then clicks her tongue in a way that reminds him way too much of Damian. “Too much yellow,” she says, “You should update your armor to be less… this.”

“Sam!” Danny says, smacking her arm. “Uncalled for!”

“What? I’m right. That’s way too much yellow.”

The other boy pushes his glasses up his nose and glares at Duke. “So you’re a hero, huh?”

Duke blinks and the sudden hostility, then nods. “Yeah, sure am.”

“And you save people?”

“I do my best.”

“Even if they’re not human?”

Oh, Duke realizes, they’re just being overprotective of Danny. It kind of sucks to be on the other end of it, but he’s glad to know that Danny has people that will stand by him. Being a meta without any support is awful and often dealy; human traffickers especially love to target vulnerable metas.

“Even then,” Duke says. “If anyone needs help and I can help them, I do. It’s how I got into the hero business.”

“Quit the interrogation,” Danny hisses, then turns to Duke with a strained smile. “I am so sorry about them. This is Sam, and this is Tucker.”

“Well, welcome to Gotham.”

Danny hooks his arms with Sam and Tucker’s, pulling them closer to himself with enough force that they stumble. “Stop being mean, guys. We’re here to have fun, remember?”

Sam sighs, then gently knocks her head against Danny’s. “Yeah, alright. We’ll behave.”

“ Thank you. Let’s hit up Wayne Tower first, then the botanical gardens and maybe lunch after that?”

“Sounds good,” Tucker says, pulling his arm free from Danny’s grasp just to hop onto his back. With Tucker secured, Danny sweeps Sam up into a princess carry, and all three look at Duke like this is something totally normal that happens all the time. And maybe it is! It’s probably normal for them and Duke is not going to judge them because he wants to make a good impression and not be a hypocrite.

He’ll just… not talk about the Bats and how bizarre they all are. Duke himself is not exempt from this.

“You gonna be able to hold them both and fly around?” he asks, just to make sure. He definitely doesn’t want anyone falling to their deaths while he’s leading them through Gotham.

Danny just offers him a grin, the tips of his sharp canines just barely visible. The glow in his chest gets a little stronger and his eyes flicker from blue to bright green. “Don’t worry. I’m strong enough to be their Uber today.”

“We’re not paying you,” Sam and Tucker say at the same time, then high five. Danny rolls his eyes, and Duke can’t help but smile seeing their little routines.

They must have been friends for a long time to be so close.

Duke makes a mental note to spend a day just hanging out with his own friends soon. It’s been a little too long, hero work and school taking up all his time, and though they understand and try to keep him in their lives through texts, it’s all too easy to slip away from each other.

Focus, Duke, he tells himself. Today is for Danny and his friends.

He’s the Signal. There’s no time for Duke’s problems. He’s got crime to fight and three teenage tourists from who knows where to show around Gotham. He’ll deal with his own shit later.

“I’ll lead the way to Wayne Tower then,” he says, walking backwards to the edge of the roof. Danny lifts up from the roof, hovering a foot in the air, and it’s so hard to look away from him when he’s literally glowing, eyes bright and hair turning white. “Also, just as a heads up, I may have to leave for a few minutes to deal with crime, but I will come back. Just stick to the roofs and you’ll be safe.”

Sam looks around, assessing the city. “Lots of crime here?”

“We’re called the Crime Capital of America for a reason,” Duke responds wryly and she grimaces.

“Well. At least the aesthetic is pretty nice. I’m digging all the gargoyles.”

“Wait ‘til you see some of our churches. Stained glass, dark stone, really Gothic. I think you’ll like it.” Then, to Danny, he says, “Ready?”

Danny nods, and Duke turns and jumps off the roof.

Behind him, he can hear a gasp, and then he shoots his grapple out and begins swinging through Diamond District, trusting that Danny is following behind him as they fly above the busy streets. And sure enough, when he flips off the edge of another building, Duke catches a glance behind him and sees the shimmer of an invisible Danny flying towards him, with two additional little shimmers that must be his friends.

He goes back to grappling through the streets, keeping an eye out for any crime.

“Come in O,” he says quietly, activating his comm.

“Signal, everything good?” Oracle asks, hopping onto his frequency within a second.

“Yeah, I’ve just got a few visitors I’m escorting around Gotham. Can you keep an eye out for any crimes that need my attention? Just let me know where they are and I’ll deal with it.”

“Sure thing. Who are these visitors?”

“Out of towners. One’s a meta and they wanted to do a little sightseeing, and you know how this city is dangerous for people who aren’t used to it. And with meta human trafficking…”

Oracle makes a small sound of understanding. “Yeah, best to stick close to them while they’re here. Good call, Signal. I’ll keep an eye out and let you know if anything pops up, but so far, it’s all looking quiet.”

“Good to hear.”

There’s a pause, and then Oracle’s voice turns teasing, bringing more Barbara into the forefront. “Soooo,” she starts, and he can already hear the grin in her voice. “Making friends, Signal? Looking to start up your own team? It’s tradition, you know; we’ve all done it.”

“Nah, they’re not looking to join the cape scene. They just want to see the sights, hang out a bit. Are you looking for information on them right now?” He can hear her typing loudly, fingers flying across the keyboard. She’s supposed to be working in the library, but she’s also got her own office in there now that she’s the most senior employee. It would be just like her to pass off patron duties to the other libraries and bust crime rings from her office desk.

Zero separation between regular work and night work. The curse all bats and bat-adjacent folk struggle with.

“Who do you think I am?” Barbara scoffs. “If you’re making friends, then it’s my duty to make sure they’re good friends. At the very least, I can’t let you run off with villains in the makings, or cultists wanting to sacrifice you or something.”

“They’re normal civilians,” Duke hisses into his comm. He casts another glance behind him to see Danny flying off to the side. From what he can make out from the movement of the shimmer, like a heat mirage given form, he’s pointing something out to his friends. “And how likely is it that they are villains? I doubt anyone looking to hurt me is going to ask me for a tour of Gotham.”

Barbara hums. “You never know. Tim befriended Anarchy. And a couple of League assassins.”

“Tim’s a special case. He can befriend literally anyone. I mean, didn’t Jason and Damain both try to kill him? Now look at them. Thick as thieves.”

“He is something special,” Barbara agrees, amusement coloring her voice. “Say, can you tell me their names?”

“Who?”

“Your tourist guests.”

“Danny, Tucker, and Sam. Why?”

There’s a pause, even the clicking of her keyboard going silent. Oracle being stopped in her tracks is never a good thing and Duke is suddenly worried that she did find something that will connect the trio to some evil world domination plan.

“I can’t find them.”

“What?”

“I’ve run their faces through the databases, I’ve searched for people matching their descriptions, I can’t find any tech on them that I can hack into… It’s like they don’t exist. Digitally, that is.”

Duke lands just a block away from Wayne Tower, staring up at it. The glass glistens in the few rays of sunlight that force their way past the clouds hanging heavy in the sky. It’s taller than any other building in the district, overlooking Gotham all the way to the bay. He hears the slight shuffle of feet as Danny lands on the roof behind him and sets Tucker and Sam down.

He wants to keep talking to Barbara because he can’t recall a time she wasn’t able to find something. She’s ruthless in the pursuit of information, effortlessly hacking into even the most protected files, capable of finding people and vehicles and buildings and everything else someone might need for a case.

The fact that Danny and his friends have hidden themselves from Oracle’s all seeing eyes has him on edge.

He really hopes it’s nothing. He wants to be friends with Danny. He wants to trust him to be a good person just trying to live a quiet life as a meta. He wants just one thing to not blow up in his face.

“Here we are!” Duke announces, showing off Wayne Tower with a flourish. “I can’t get you much closer to the tower without people noticing you pop in out of nowhere, so you’ll have to walk the last two blocks to get to the building.”

“Impressive place,” Tucker comments as invisibility slides off of him. Sam appears a moment later, followed by Danny, the glow in his chest softening and growing a little dimmer.

“Wayne Enterprises is always striving for perfection,” Duke agrees. “Though, between you and me, I’m 99% positive that the only reason this building is as big and impressive as it is stems from Wayne’s need to be better than Lexcorp.”

“Lexcorp?”

“Rival company in Metropolis. Lex Luthor is the CEO and we all hate him for a lot of reasons.”

“I kinda want to pit Vlad against these guys,” Sam says, shooting Danny a grin.

Danny snorts and shakes his head. “Vlad has a cheese castle. I think he’s already lost.”

Duke is really interested in hearing about the cheese castle, but a quick glance at the watch hidden in his wrist gauntlet (put there only so he can dramatically check the time and leave with some insane excuse when criminals were complaining to him about their own poor choices) tells him that it’s nearly time for the next tour to start.

“Alright, folks,” he says, “You’ve got around eleven minutes to sign yourselves up for the next tour, so if you want to make it, you’d better get moving!”

Tucker swears, then sprints for the edge of the building. “Danny! Get me down there! I’m not waiting another hour for a tour!”

Danny rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling fondly as he flies over to Tucker and scoops him up. They both disappear over the edge of the building, leaving Duke alone with Sam.

“So,” she says, and her tone could be mistake for conversational if it wasn’t for the coldness of her eyes. “You’re getting pretty friendly with Danny, from what I’ve heard.”

Duke smiles nervously. This is the beginning of a shovel talk, isn’t it? “I guess so. I mean, I’d like to be friends with him.”

“How old are you?”

“What?”

“How. Old. Are you?” she bites out, walking closer with a glare.

“Why do you want to know? I can’t just be giving out information about my identity, you know.”

“If you’re not a teenager, then I am going to have a few knives sharpened for when you make a wrong move towards Danny.”

“Wait, wait! I’m still in high school! That’s fine, isn’t it?” He definitely shouldn’t be telling anyone this, but if one of his friends said they were hanging out with someone they don’t know outside of a mask, or a username, or whatever, he’d want to make sure that person wasn’t a creep. Her protective anger is admirable, really. And besides, he gets it. If telling her his age (or age range) will reassure her that he’s not going to… groom Danny or something, then he’ll tell her.

He’d never fault someone for looking out for their loved ones.

“You better be telling the truth. For your own sake.”

“Cross my heart,” Duke says.

Danny pops up through the roof a moment later, startling both of them, easily breaking the tension. “Come on, Sam, Tucker’s signed us up and doesn’t want to wait for you to get over there.” He picks Sam up, then glances between her and Duke. “Wait. Sam. Tell me you didn’t threaten the Signal.”

“Do you want me to lie to you?”

“I can’t take you guys anywhere, I swear…” Danny mutters, then flies down to the street.

Duke blinks at the empty roof, then decides that he’s just going to move on with his day and enjoy spending time with Danny.

He grapples closer to Wayne Tower, following Danny’s glow to make sure they get inside just fine. It’s only a block, but anything can happen in Gotham; better safe than sorry. As soon as he watches them go into the building, Duke sets a timer to display on the corner of his helmet visor and gets back to patrolling, keeping watch over Gotham while he waits for the tour to finish.

“Signal,” Oracle says, and Duke snaps to attention, landing on the next building at the end of his grapple, hopping down from the ledge with ease.

“What’s up, O? Got something for me?”

“Not quite. I’d like you to keep an eye on your guests. One of my drones picked up a strange reading that’s similar to magical residue.”

“You think they’re magic?”

“I think there’s something going on with them that we should keep an eye on. I know you said they’re just here as tourists, but you know we can’t take chances in Gotham.”

As much as he understands Barbara’s concerns, Duke can’t bring himself to be suspicious of Danny or his friends. They do have secrets, and none of them have even hinted at how they arrived in Gotham, appearing suddenly and without warning on a rooftop. But he’s always been one to give the benefit of the doubt. To try to talk things out, figure out a solution where no one needs to get hurt. Most of the time, it doesn’t work since whoever is causing problems really only cares about venting out their pain and frustrations through property damage and loss of life. Sometimes, though, the people causing problems need a little help, need protection, need some space to calm down and get themselves under control, and having a horde of Bats chasing them only makes things worse.

“They really are just tourists,” Duke says. “I know how you feel. I get it, there’s definitely something more to the three of them. But it’s not causing any harm right now, so I say it’s none of our business.”

He hears Barbara sigh down the line, but she’s always been good at respecting boundaries (when it doesn’t come to privacy) and will let people do as they believe they should. It’s why she helps out Jason every so often despite his violent methods and familiarity with killing. It’s why she has her own group and leads them without controlling them the way Batman tries to.

“Alright,” she says, “You make the calls since they’re your guests. Just be ready for me to say ‘I told you so’ when something goes wrong.”

“Yeah, yeah, we know you’re always right, O. Let me make my mistakes in peace, alright? We’ll fix it when we need to.”

“This is why you’re my new favorite,” Barbara jokes.

He makes to respond, maybe poke fun at some of the others with her, when he catches sight of two guys trying to break the lock on a bike to steal it from the sidewalk. Dropping down from the roof, he casually walks up to them, then clears his throat and shakes his head in disappointment at them when they jump and whirl around to stare at him.

“Really?” he says, judging them harshly, “Stealing someone’s bike? In broad daylight?”

They both flush with embarrassment, scowling at him.

“Well, we gotta get home somehow!” one of them says, kicking at the bike in frustration.

“Can’t you take the bus or something? Walk?”

“We don’t have any money on us for the bus and we’re heading to Robinson Park. I ain’t walking that far.”

Well. At least they’re just trying to get around and weren’t planning on selling the bike off.

“Two options,” he says, and both guys tense up immediately, prepared for a fight. He hates that that’s the reaction people have to Gotham’s heroes. As soon as they turn to a crime, no matter how petty, they’re prepared to be beaten down into submission. It’s a precedent set by Bruce that he’s never really liked and Duke does his best to embrace how different he is from the rest of the Bats to show the people of Gotham, criminals and all, that everyone can turn to him for help.

“I can buy a week-long bus pass for you both. Or, I can give you two a ride.”

They share a glance, slowly relaxing. “Can we do both?” one asks. “Get a ride from you and the bus pass?”

Duke glances at the timer in his visor. He’s still got forty minutes before he needs to go back to Wayne Tower.

“You know what? Yes, we can do that. Let me get you those bus passes and then we’ll get going.”

The two men share an excited grin, stepping away from the bike and its slightly mangled lock. They follow Duke to the nearest bus station where a little kiosk is tucked under the awning. Barbara, listening in as she always is, buys the bus passes for him, getting them to print within seconds when they get there.

“Sending your new motorcycle to your location,” she says as soon as he hands both bus passes to the men.

As far as Duke knows, he only has one motorcycle. He wishes he could ask what Barbara meant with new motorcycle without anyone listening in, but he’s gotta give the guys his attention, keep them company while they wait.

They make small talk for a bit, the two asking him what being a hero is like while Duke chats about life in Gotham and shares some Batfam gossip (mostly patrol blunders of one of them slipping while crossing the rooftops and eating shit).

It only takes seven minutes for the motorcycle to arrive, appearing in front of them in the street as the cloaking turns off.

“Woah,” one of the guys breathes, staring at it in awe. “Man, you heroes get the coolest shit.”

“Perks of throwing ourselves into the line of fire. Literally.”

He sees why Barbara sent him an entire new motorcycle (!!!) because his original plan of having three people squeeze onto the seat of one motorcycle was clearly going to end in disaster. This new one, Signal Yellow as it should be, is more armored, a little larger, and has an extended passengers seat attached to it so three people can ride it easily.

Duke swings his leg over it, settling into the seat and grips the handlebars. “Come on,” he smiles, inviting the men to join him. They do, nearly tripping over themselves as they get seated, excited grins on their faces.

It’s nice to know that no matter how old people get, a cool motorcycle is the way to most people’s hearts.

And what a change it is to see two men, likely college students in their final years, go from scared and unhappy people to acting like kids again, jumping at the chance to ride a motorcycle with a hero.

Small interactions like this, where everything goes right, is exactly why Duke is determined to give everyone the benefit of the doubt, a chance to choose differently and be good.

“Hold on tight!” He revs the engine, then takes off, the men letting out whoops behind him as they rush down the street. The motorcycle picks up speed quickly and runs so smoothly it’s as if they’re flying, easily dodging all the cars around them.

Normally, he’d go invisible and use the cloaking mode on his motorcycle to get around, but with two civilians riding with him, he’d rather be visible so cars don’t accidentally hit them.

The ride to Robinson Park takes fifteen minutes at the frankly dangerous speeds Duke was going, and he has no regrets about speeding because 1) it’s fun as hell and 2) the guys with him are clearly having a blast.

He slows down once they reach the park, then pulls over to the side of the road.

“Thank you for riding with Signal Wheels. Be sure to leave a review!”

“Five out of five!” one guys says as he gets off the motorcycle. His hair is a mess, completely windswept and tangled when Duke turns to look at him. “Holy shit, dude, I think I’d marry your motorcycle if I could.”

“Oh same,” Duke laughs, holding out a hand for a fistbump which is readily granted.

The second guy needs a moment longer to get off, laughing breathlessly. “Ten out of ten,” he says, once he’s next to his friend.

“Trying to one up me, huh?”

“Just being honest here.”

“Alright, well you two take care now,” Duke says, shifting his weight to one foot in preparing to kick off and head back to Wayne Tower. “And be sure not to lose those bus passes!”

“Thanks Signal!” they both call out as Duke heads back down the road, turning invisible as soon as he gets to a good speed.

He’s got just enough time to make it back to lead Danny and his friends to the botanical gardens. He cuts it close, but he makes it, pulling into an alley and hopping off the motorcycle.

“O, would you mind getting this back to wherever you piloted it from?”

“Not going to take your new friends on it?”

“Nah, I get the feeling they prefer flying.”

“You got it, Signal.”

The motorcycle pulls out of the alley silently, then heads down on road once cloaking is enabled. It’s gone just in time for his guest to walk out of Wayne Tower, trailing after Tucker who talks with his hands moving around energetically, too distracted to watch where he’s going as Sam and Danny pull him this way and that to keep him from crashing into other people.

Danny spots him first, after he stops and his brow furrows, a look of concentration on his face. Then his head turns and his eyes snap onto where Duke leans against the wall at the mouth of the alley. He grins, the glow in his chest flaring brighter for a moment, and Duke offers a small wave, unbearably charmed by how cute Danny is, especially when he’s so clearly delighted to see him.

“How was it?” Duke asks once they’re close enough to hear him.

Tucker immediately launches into a rant about WayneTech and the R&D Lab and how he would give his liver to work there. Then he starts rambling about technology and coding and a few of the things he’s created and how he’d love to look through what WayneTech does. He doesn’t stop even as Danny flies him up to the roof, Duke following after with his grapple, Sam clinging onto his back.

“So, so cool,” Tucker gushes, “I could probably take over the government in Amity with this kind of tech.”

Okay. Kind of a concerning statement to make, especially in the wake of Barbara’s suspicions of them.

Sam snorts. “You could take over the government in Amity now, if you wanted to.”

“Yeah, I could.”

“Not that you’d be good at it. What would you do as mayor?”

“Create a steak festival to celebrate steak and all the meals you can make with it.”

“Oh you little—” Sam lunges at them and Tucker falls back with a shriek. And then they’re tussling on the rooftop, arguing about meat and veganism and the farming industry, which, what a subject change.

Duke looks over at Danny, who watches them wrestle with fond exasperation. “Should we… stop them?”

“Let them get this out of their systems,” Danny replies. “They’ve been having this fight for years. I’ll stop them in a few minutes, and then we can go to the botanical gardens.”

So they stand together and watch Sam and Tucker roll around the roof, trying to choke each other out. And all Duke can think is, Man, I can’t ever let them meet the Bats. They’ll get along like a house on fire.

Or, it’s all he thinks until Danny shifts closer to him, just a few tentative steps. He’s suddenly starkly aware of how small the space between them is, how Danny’s close enough to touch, how much he’s been looking forward to this moment since Danny left a week ago.

Boy was giving you doe eyes the entire time he was with you, Jason had said. Duke saw it, when he was with Danny, reveled in it, basked in the attention. It wasn’t that he didn’t reciprocate, but he knows it can be hard to convey anything through his helmet, but there’s only so much action can do.

But it’s what he can do, so Duke shoves away his nerves and wraps his arm around Danny’s waist, pulling him closer.

Danny lets out a cute little squeak, cheeks filling with color immediately, and Duke is so, so endeared he wants to cry.

“So, what’s the story behind this fight of theirs?” he asks, leaning closer to ask his question quietly in Danny’s ear.

“Oh! Um,” Danny blinks at him, visibly flustered, and Duke wants to squeeze his cheeks together, he’s so cute.

Oh, he really is down bad. Damn. He hopes Barbara isn’t watching through his helmet camera, but he knows better than to expect her to not be collecting blackmail on him for this.

Which is whatever! Jokes on Barbara, he’s not at all ashamed of what he feels for Danny!

He could do without the ribbing from the rest of the Bats. They have no leg to stand on when it comes to relationships and being honest about their feelings. He’ll turn every conversation about Danny into improvised therapy if he has to.

“Well?” he prompts.

Danny glances at his friends, then leans into Duke and turns to him with a small smile.

“So,” he begins, then launches into a wild story from his freshman year about Sam and Tucker splitting the school into two groups to have a mini civil war over meat vs vegetarian food. Which lead to eating grass (?!) for lunch, a ghost lunch lady attacking the school, and the teachers having their own hidden meat lunch kept secret from the students, which lead to more chaos once it was discovered.

“That was a wild school week,” Danny concludes, just as Sam and Tucker’s fight winds down.

“Dude,” Duke says, staring at Danny, unsure if he wants to laugh or ask follow up questions. “What kind of life have you been living? That’s so much. The only thing we’ve got here is shootings and so much crime. Also a zombie in the sewers.”

“See, you drop info like that on me and suddenly I’m convinced that my life is actually pretty tame compared to whatever’s going on here.”

“No, no, listen. In Gotham, you expect this kind of nonsense. But your story started so deceptively normal! ‘Just a fight between friends’ and then a ghost attack? Betrayal from the teachers? Grass? Danny, everything you said left me reeling.”

“It’s not that bad!” Danny laughs. “The ghosts barely cause any problem anymore. They’re just kinda like anyone else, now.”

“What’s this about?” Sam asks, brushing her skirt off as she stands. Tucker pushes himself up to his feet and takes a moment to wipe the lenses of his glasses.

“The first time we met Lunch Lady.”

Sam and Tucker make a sound of understanding, nodding. “That sure was something,” Sam says.

“To think we were so young and innocent back then,” Tucker says with a fake sniffle. “So innocent!”

“You’re still as insufferable as ever,” Sam replies, taking his smack to her arm with grace.

“You two ready to head to the botanical garden now?” Duke asks, getting them back on track. Danny moves out of Duke’s grasp, unfortunately, to return to his role as their personal Uber, this time getting Tucker in a princess carry while Sam clings to his back like a koala.”Well. Guess Danny’s decided you’re ready.”

His friends snicker while Danny rolls his eyes and mutters about their unending arguments, then nods at Duke to lead the way.

Giving him a little salute, Duke readies his grapple, then takes off, leaping off the building to return to the skies. Danny follows him effortlessly, a soft glow that occasionally passes by in front of him playfully, sticking close as they head north.

The botanical gardens are a large spot of green in the otherwise urban landscape. It’s a few blocks away from Robinson Park, close enough that everything nearby is deemed Ivy’s territory, but far enough away that most people can pretend it’s like any other building and visit it safely. It’s been a long time since the botanical garden was attacked, or use for Villainous Purposes™, so Duke is comfortable letting Sam, Tucker, and Danny explore it on their own.

Plenty of other people are also in the gardens, from what he can see a roof away. And no one’s run away screaming, which is definitely a good sign.

“Oh, wow,” Sam says once she hops down from Danny’s back. She stares at the gardens with something unreadable in her eyes, as if she’s seeing more than what’s there. “There’s so much…”

“Poison Ivy—one of our rogues who can control plants and is doing a lot better these days, don’t worry—she takes care of most of the gardens. The greenhouse in the middle is hers for studies and experiments with plants, but she lets the public walk the garden. She’s even added little informational cards for kids to read so they can learn more,” Duke says, walking up to where Sam is leaning concerningly over the edge to get a better look at the gardens.

“That explains it,” she says, explaining nothing. “Do we have to pay to go in?”

“Just five dollars per person. It’s her income, and we’re all encouraged to leave a donation so she doesn’t turn to crimes to get enough money to support herself again.”

“Well!” Danny claps his hands together. “Let’s go, then. Jazz made sure we had cash on had, so it should be fine.”

“I can cover our tickets,” Sam offers, “Since this is for me.”

“Then I’ll cover lunch,” Danny says.

Tucker shoves his hand onto Danny’s face to push him away as he says, “No, I’ll pay for lunch. Danny, you’re not spending anything since you’re the one that scoped out this place last week for us. Got it?”

“Yeah, yeah, got it. Thanks, guys,” Danny smiles, then turns to Duke. “Would you mind waiting here for a bit? I’m gonna check out the gardens for a bit, but then I’ll be back.”

“Sure,” Duke says easily. It’s a quiet day anyways, and he’ll take any excuse to spend more time with Danny.

“Great. I’ll be right back!” And then he wraps an arm around both Sam and Tucker’s waits, picks them up like they weigh nothing, and casually hops off the roof.

Duke sits down on the edge of the building, watching as they cross the street and enter the botanical garden, Sam pulling out her wallet to pay for their entry. He idly kicks his heels against the wall, looking around the street, enjoying the rare Gotham peace.

No one is calling for help and Barbara hasn’t alerted him to anything. This is a good thing, but it doesn’t change the fact that Duke is bored.

He pulls out his phone, which he knows he shouldn’t have while he’s in the suit but it’s his day shift, he can do what he wants, and checks his friends (no Bats allowed) group chat and sees that Izzy is active. He opts to leave the chaos of the group chat to message her directly.

flashlight: hey izzy u know how we broke up

2(00)chains: oh boy. strong opening. but yes i am aware we broke up

flashlight: would u be mad if i started dating someone new or is it too soon?

2(00)chains: OMG DUKE??? WHO IS IT YOU NEED TO TELL ME RIGHT NOW

flashlight: izzy.

2(00)chains: babe u gotta give me something to work with so i can know if i should give u my blessing or not

2(00)chains: but also if u want to date and they make u happy, then yes u can date

flashlight: okay thanks!! wasn’t sure and didn’t know if it would be rude

2(00)chains: rude to date when ur single?? it would have been a problem if we were still together but that ship has sailed bby

2(00)chains: but duke PLSSSS i need deets. give me some tea… a girl is parched…

flashlight: lmao. so dramatic. but uuuuuuh

2(00)chains: little concerned by that pause there duke

flashlight: ok hes a meta

2(00)chains: ok strong start, u dont need to hide powers from him

flashlight: he’s not from gotham and doesnt live here so idk how well long distance would do

2(00)chains: duke. is this an online friend u’ve never met before.

flashlight: no!! i met him in person in gotham!! he’s just visiting!!!!

2(00)chains: ok ok go on

flashlight: uh

flashlight: he may only know me as the signal?

2(00)chains: DUKE.

2(00)chains: i understand the need to keep ur identity secret

2(00)chains: but PLS do not be a superhero love story cliche. im begging here. u didnt even keep it secret from me

flashlight: he may also not exist in this world (universe?)

2(00)chains: .

2(00)chains: u know i think u can make it work

2(00)chains: u have my blessing! if he says yes when u ask him out (which he better do 🔪) then i demand to meet him!!

flashlight: u got it izzy

flashlight: thanks!! u always got my back ☺️

He only has a faint prickle on the back of his neck to warn him of Danny’s approach, looking up through gut instinct only just to see Danny’s fuzzy glow fly up to him.

Danny pops into visibility a moment later, pouting. “I was hoping I could sneak up on you.”

“It’s gonna take more than that, babe,” he laughs. “I’m hard to sneak up on.” Bar that time Cass… and Bruce… and Tim… Dick, also… Jason, too…

Okay, so anyone who isn’t a Bat won’t be able to sneak up on him easily.

“Babe?” Danny repeats, his voice suddenly much higher. Duke freezes and takes a moment to curse his loose mouth; he and Izzy love pet names and still call each other terms of endearment even now when they’ve broken up. And since he was just talking to her, habit made him put his foot in his mouth.

“Yeah,” Duke says, committing to it, “Babe”

Danny makes a little whine in the back of his throat, face going red, and then his hides his face in his hands and floats up higher, curling his body up into a small ball. The movement reminds him of the videos he’s seen of astronauts in space, moving in lazy circles in zero gravity.

“Sorry,” he adds on, “I was texting a friend and we call each other things like that, so I just… slipped up. Didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“I’m not,” Danny mumbles.

“What?”

“I’m not uncomfortable.”

Duke smiles. “Alright. Wanna come down and join me, then?”

Danny continues hiding for a few moments longer, then reaches a hand down towards Duke. He doesn’t look at him, shyly turned away, still red in the cheeks.

How is he so sweet?

Duke has never met someone so cute, and full of light, and literally glowing. He never stood a chance.

He takes Danny’s hand, gently pulling him down to the roof, wrapping an arm around him once he’s sitting to make sure he doesn’t go floating away.

“So, what did you want to talk to me about?”

“Oh, I was just… I really like hanging out with you and you’re super cool and I thought I should explain a few things about myself.”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“I do,” Danny says, resolutely. “First, I’m not from here.”

Duke stares at him. “Yeah, I got that. Kinda obvious after we spoke for the first time.”

“No, I mean. Really not from here. From a different dimension.”

Oh. So Danny’s just casually walking the multiverse, apparently, and chose to return to Gotham to spend time with Duke. That’s honestly really flattering.

“Makes sense,” he says.

Now Danny’s staring at him, incredulously. “How does that make sense? Do you not have questions about what that means, or where I’m from, or how I got here?”

Duke shrugs. “Not really. Listen, there’s a lot of weird shit in Gotham. Like, a lot. Batman was lost in time once and presumed dead until Red Robin helped get him back. There’s incomprehensible magic and time travel and so many aliens, dude. This is not that out of the ordinary.”

“YOU HAVE ALIENS?” Danny shouts, then claps a hand over his mouth, eyes wide. And then, whispered, “You have aliens?!”

“Yeah, we have aliens. Some try to kill us and conquer Earth, some live here as superheroes.”

“No way,” Danny breathes. “Can I stay here forever? My dimension doesn’t have aliens. I really want to meet aliens.”

“If you stick around long enough, it’s kind of inevitable that you’ll get caught up in some crazy shit, and you’ll probably be able to meet Superman then. Or maybe Martian Manhunter, if he’s available.”

He watches Danny mouth Martian Manhunter in awe and is so charmed by him and his visible excitement about aliens. Most of this is just how he lives life, knowing all these impossible things are out there but have very little to do with him. It’s only mind blowing when he actually meets Superman and all, but that’s because meeting big heroes is like meeting celebrities and it never stops being cool.

“Wait, I’m getting distracted.” Danny shakes his head, then lightly claps his hands against his cheeks. “Okay, so. I’m from a different dimension. And Tucker has made a few phones that can work literally anywhere. But only to contact other phones he made for interdimensional communication. I had him make one for you so we could keep talking even when I go home, if you wanted.”

“I want it! I very much do want it.”

Danny grins. “Great! Perfect, okay.” He reaches into his own chest (?!) and pulls out a phone.

“Um.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I can use my insides like a pocket dimension for extra storage.”

Sure. This might as well happen. Duke takes the phone and looks it over; it looks like a large, square flip phone, but when it opens, the screen and keyboard are both touchscreens the glow a faint neon green. He opens up the contacts menu, finds Danny, and shoots him a quick text that consists only of a smiley face.

“Man, this is so cool,” Duke says. “Thanks for giving it to me! I really am glad I can talk to you some more.”

“I feel like I should be thanking you for giving me the time of day.”

Duke knocks his shoulder against Danny’s. “Come on, man, don’t say that. Anyone would be happy to spend time with you. Besides, I’m really not as cool as you think. I’m a normal guy outside the suit.”

“You still have powers.”

“I do, but I’m not the only one.”

“I know this is a bit of a bad question, and I do understand how important secret identities are! But do you think I’d ever get to know you when you’re just… you?”

Duke thinks about how much Batman would disapprove, the lengths Tim went through to protect his own identity as Red Robin, how everyone around him would become a target if anyone figured out who the Signal is…

But then he thinks about how much keeping this secret puts a strain on his relationship with his cousin, how much of a relief it is to have his friends in the know so he doesn’t have to constantly lie to them, how he’s the only hero Danny knows in this dimension and the only person who can help him while he’s here.

“I’ll tell you one day,” Duke says, “Promise. When we get to know each other a little more, yeah?”

“Yeah, alright, that’s fair. Thanks, Signal.”

“You need to get back to your friends?”

“Nah,” Danny shakes his head, “They can manage on their own. Besides, they agreed to one hour each place, and Tucker’s hungry enough to drag Sam out as soon as it hits that hour mark.”

“Well, in that case, why don’t you tell me a little more about your dimension while we wait? Or any other place you’ve visited.”

Danny grins, leaning closer, and says, “Have you ever met a yeti? Cause I have.” . . .

He doesn’t get to see Danny or his friends off when they return to their dimension. They’d been in the planetarium for hours, and Duke had to end patrol and turn in for the day to look over cases with Steph and Tim, then work on his college application.

He does get a text from Danny, his new phone going off with a soft sound of a wind chime, in the middle of looking at different colleges and stressing out.

Danny: got home safe! off to fight dinner now 🤺

Danny: wanna talk more tomorrow?

Signal: sure! i’d love to!! good luck with dinner?

There’s a brief pause, and then Danny sends a blurry picture of a rotisserie chicken flying through the air towards a woman with red hair, holding out a steak knife, ready to attack.

…Yeah, he’s going to question that tomorrow. For now, he just sends Danny a thumbs up emoji and goes back to staring at his list of potential schools he wants to go to with growing despair.

Does he want to stay in Gotham? Gotham City University isn’t all that bad, and he’s familiar with the campus. Or maybe Montclair State University. Rowan University and Rutgers University don’t sound bad either, and both are still in the state, so he wouldn’t be too far from Gotham. Maybe he could go to his parent’s alma matter; UCLA and Penn State are both out of state, though, and way more expensive, even if Bruce offered to cover his tuition.

What would he even study?

So lost in thought, Duke almost doesn’t realize that his regular phone is ringing until the noise cuts off. His head jerks up and he stares at it, wondering who could be calling him right after he finished eating dinner.

Then it rings again, Barbara’s name popping up on the screen, and he lunges for it, worried that something’s going down in Gotham without him noticing.

“Babs! Is something wrong?”

“No. Should something be wrong? I was calling because you didn’t check in with me before you ended patrol, and you haven’t been responding to any of my texts,” she says, sounding distracted as the sound of her keyboard continues on steadily in the background. She must be working as Oracle already, preparing to assist the Bats on their patrols.

“Oh, sorry. Everything’s fine, our visitors were from another dimension and they really were just here to sightsee. Nothing to worry about.”

“I saw that you got a gift.”

Duke understands exactly what she’s calling about, now. He should have expected Barbara to fall to the siren call of new tech. “I did,” he says, offering nothing else just to mess with her.

“Duke,” she says, “It’s a matter of safety.”

“Just admit that you want to check out interdimensional tech.”

Barbara sighs, then says, “I want to look at interdimensional tech. Come by the Clocktower tonight and drop it off.”

“I don’t know, Babs,” he says teasingly, “I think Tim might want a look at it first.”

“I should have never believed Dick when he said you were well behaved. ‘The good one’ my ass,” she grumbles. “What do you want?”

“A favor to be decided in the future. No questions asked expect what’s needed to get that favor done.”

“Deal.”

“I’ll swing by soon. Do you think you could help me with my college apps while I’m there? I have no idea what to do or where to go.”

“Sure,” Barbara agrees, her voice warm, “I’d love the chance to big sister you. Jason hogs you too much.”

He does, and Duke doesn’t really understand why Jason gets along so well with him, but he’s not going to question a good thing. Street kids gotta stick together, after all. Even if neither of them are living on the streets anymore.

It’s nice to know that the others are just as willing to help him out, even if he works separate from them most of the time these days.

“Oh, and the phone I got from Danny has contacts already added to it. Please don’t text Danny or anyone else without saying it’s you.”

“That sounds like you’re giving me permission to talk to me.”

“I figured you’d want to talk to Tucker some, since he’s the one who built it.”

“Well,” Barbara says, and he can hear the smile in her voice, “Thanks for the permission. I’ll be sure to get as much information as I can from him.”

“Please don’t ruin this for me.”

Barbara laughs. “Oh, don’t worry Duke. I know how to be nice, especially with people you’re trying to impress. It’s Dick you should be worried about.”

She’s right.

Duke drops his head onto his desk with a groan.

“I’ll see you later, Duke.”

“Yeah, alright. See you, Babs.”

She ends the call and Duke sighs, contemplating taking a nap before he heads out. But that would mess up his sleep schedule, and he’s willing to do a lot, but not that. Instead, he flicks through his phone to the group chat with his friends, and sends a quick question about when they can hang out again.

He’s missed them. Seeing Danny with Tucker and Sam reminded him of how much he loves his friends and spending time with them. He should take a page from Danny’s book and spend a day with them, just catching up and enjoying their company.

And if they tease him about his crush on Danny, well, better them than the Bats.

#ghostlights #duke thomas/danny fenton #dcxdp #dpxdc #dp x dc #dc x dp #dc x dp fic #dp x dc fic #my writing #its been months but the second chapter is here and the boys are even cuter than before!!#tbh i dont think ive ever written such a fast burn before #now to think of a name for this ghostlights series on ao3...

230 notes · View notes

marvelouslizzie · 8 months

Note

sooo, i read your fic "like someone i know" and it was absolutely hot AND amazing. i am obsessed with miscommunication of how they thought they hated/were against each other but not. 😭

if you do take requests, could you write a drabble or something of them finally dating and bucky still teasing the reader but obviously in love now? JBJDJSHS maybe make the entire class confused bc they're aware of their rivalry. i just LOVEEE the fluff after enemies/rivals to lovers plots. 🥹

if you don't take requests, it's okay!!! your fic was amazing and now i shall read more of your work to my heart's content!!!

Thank you so much for the kind words ❤️

Oh, I absolutely love this! I tried to write a cute drabble and I hope this works for you.

summary: Set after Like Someone I Know. You and your former academic rival, Bucky, begin a secret romantic relationship. What happens when you two have another exam?

pairing: College!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

warnings: None actually. Pure bickering and a bit of fluff + no mention of y/n.

word count: 842

All work is mine, please do not repost or translate without my permission.

Another day, another test. You feel stressed by the number of lessons you had to study for this one. There were so many things, even though you went through all of them, you feel like you remember nothing. Nothing at all.

You open your bag and reach for your notes while your back rests against the cold wall. Maybe you will feel confident enough if you go through them one more time. Refreshing your memory does not hurt, right?

You start to read and repeat the most important info in your mind, trying to remember where and how you wrote them so you can use them during the exam, but it’s hard to concentrate. Especially, when Bucky’s voice is booming through the hallway. His laugh is so loud, and it annoys you because he isn’t laughing like that because of you. He’s just messing around with Steve, Sam, and Natasha, as usual. You are pretty sure Natasha is the one that made him laugh this loudly, and jealousy takes over you.

“For the love of god, just stop talking for a sec! Some of us are trying to study here.”

No one bats an eye. They are so used to you two bickering before and after exams, but Bucky immediately turns to you. You see the mischievous spark in his eyes. He’s so amused by the comment.

“Do you mean yourself, princess? Because I don’t see anyone else besides you studying right now.”

You make a sour face when you hear him calling you princess. That’s new. He usually calls you doll.

“Does it matter?”

“Matters to me.”

“Fine. I’m trying to study. Shut your mouth, kay? Bye.”

You try to turn back to your notes, but no, Bucky is not done bickering with you. Of course, he isn’t.

“Don’t worry, you will get a good grade. You always do.” It could’ve been such a sweet encouragement if his tone had been different. It just feels like he’s patronizing you.

“So what? I should stop studying?”

“Yeah. Give yourself a break, doll.” He stops for a second, then dramatically adds. “Live a little.”

“Studying first, living later.” That kinda sounds like a promise, but no one but Bucky gets that.

You think you can finally read again, but Sam doesn’t let go of the conversation for some reason. He always likes to interject.

“Are you worried Bucky will get the best grade?”

“Oh, come on, Sam!” Steve sounds tired already.

“I would like to see him try.” After years of being rivals, your answer comes automatically. You forget there’s no need for this anymore.

“I got the best score last time, remember?” Luckily he doesn’t sound offended. Maybe he just missed your usual bickering.

“And I will make sure that doesn’t happen again.” You give him a fake smile. You really want to get the best score, even if that means beating your boyfriend.

“You always say that, but…” Suddenly he stops talking, and you wanna know how that sentence ends.

“But what?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Come on!” You challenge him. He shouldn’t stop himself from voicing his thoughts just because you started to date a while ago. Your rivalry is still there. He should be free to say whatever he wants. “Say it.”

“Maybe later.” He resists.

"Come on, Barnes! Since when are you afraid to speak your mind?" Your taunting works like a charm.

“You always say that, but I never saw you upset because I beat you.”

You can’t help but smile. If someone is gonna get the better grade, it has to be Bucky. Any other option is simply not acceptable.

You feel the stares of Steve, Sam, and Natasha on you. They didn’t expect this turn of events. They have been holding their breaths to see your reaction. Are you gonna get mad? Snap back at him? Shove his flirtatious comment up his ass?

“If it's not me, then it has to be you, right?” You watch Bucky’s smile grow while others mumble with confusion.

“If not my girl, then who else?”

Oh, he really went there. He didn’t miss the opportunity to claim you, and even though you wanted to do that very differently, you can’t help but feel giddy about it.

You don’t say anything at first, slowly walking towards him. You stop right in front of him, staring into his pretty blue eyes. He doesn’t know what to expect, so you can see how puzzled he is. You stand on your tiptoes and gently place a kiss on his cheek.

“Good luck, baby,” you whisper into his ear, then you just turn on your heels, like nothing happened. “See you after the exam.” You don’t look back, but you hear others talk.

“What the fuck just happened?”

“Did she just-”

“I told you they would eventually fuck, Rogers! Pay up!”

“Language, Sam! We don’t even know…”

“Oh, they definitely did.” Natasha sounds rather amused.

“Fine!”

“Oh, come on! You betted on us?” Bucky’s charming voice is the last thing you hear before entering the classroom.

311 notes · View notes

crepezinhos · 15 days

Text

Anti-Stress

(Kazuha Smut)

POV: It’s 2022 and Kazuha and a friend are celebrating the final game of the year’s World Cup by betting quantities of money that are extremely high to you but low to them. But suddenly, the game suddenly takes a turn in less than two minutes in the second half of it and Kazuha is beginning to feel stressed and worried about losing the bet. To solve that, he uses you to de-stress.

⚠️ WARNINGS:

— Kazuha is not the greenest flag here

— Reader uses SHE/HER pronouns

— Contains mentions of sex work

— Possible TW for patriotic French people

“Kaedehara Kazuha!” The man screams inside the room as he heard you open the door for Kazuha and you to get in.

He was sat down in one of the only two sofas in the room with open arms and a just-blown cigarette in his hand, welcoming Kazuha like a good old friend.

You and Kazuha were in a private room at the top floor of a soccer stadium. There were many other rooms like this in made for the players’ guests or rich people like your employer, Kaedehara Kazuha. One of the walls of the room is entirely a window which had a great vision of the camp and of some of the common fans in the public seats of the staium. You could hear all their muffled, excited screams and cheering of anticipation. It was the final game of 2022’s World Cup and you weren’t excited at all even if this game mattered a lot for the whole world.

You just stood there with your high heels in the closest corner to the door so you could watch the game even if it isn’t your favorite thing. You wished you could sit too because you knew those heels would begin to hurt at some point, but your posture really mattered as a secretary, especially when other people were seeing you work.

“Mr. Harukami!” Kazuha greeted a little less excited, walking at his direction with slightly open arms. “I apologize for my tardiness, it was difficult to find the private parking slots.” Kazuha answered while sitting down at the other empty sofa.

“No, no, I get it, it was difficult for me too.” The man replied, blowing his cigarette right afterwards for a brief moment, which made him realize your presence in the room. “Who is the girl?” He asked, some smoke got out of his mouth.

“She’s my secretary, why? Do you feel bothered by her presence?” Kazuha replied for you.

“No, not at all. I just wasn’t expecting you to bring anyone to watch you lose.” Mr. Harukami joked, making Kazuha chuckle.

“I actually brought her to watch you lose.” Kazuha joked back. “But in all seriousness, I would’ve not find the private parking slots if it wasn’t for her, so please, let her relax in this chilly room.” Kazuha showed you off. “Thank you again, Y/N.” He turned to your direction to thank your efforts and you just nodded back.

You find weird how Kazuha always presents you as this gift from God, a prodigious woman wasting her potential being common worker, but technically there’s no bad sides to it so you never felt like asking him to stop with it. And indeed, due to Kazuha’s job, you work hard every day, responding stupid e-mails, scheduling meetings and the company’s agenda… you deserve to be recognized by him and his other colleagues.

“Well then, she’s more than welcome to stay. Good secretaries are an underrated privilege.” Mr. Harukami complimented as he grabbed his packet of cigarettes out of pocket. “Want a ciggie?” He offered Kazuha, who nodded his head in denial.

“No, thank you.”

“Well then, how much are you betting again?” He said while blowing a second cigarette.

“Unfortunately, I’m not betting as much as our last matches, Harukami. Final games are already a big pressure to everyone… the players, the spectators, the betters, so I don’t to worsen it. 20.000 dollars in Argentina.”

“20.000? I thought you were more courageous than that…” The man chuckled at Kazuha’s bet.

“I’m also betting an extra 5.000 on Di Maria scoring. How about you?”

“50.000, France.”

“Wow! You really are into it, aren’t you?”

“Sure am… Oh! There they are…” Mr. Harukami said excited as soon as a very loud music begun to play outside in the stadium, which was thankfully censored by the glass wall of the room.

And both men finally begun to pay attention at the game about the start and the announcer speaking in the radio in the table.

But unfortunately, your peace in that little corner would soon end.

“Y/N, do you mind getting me and Mr. Harukami more wine?” Kazuha asked to you a little anxious and still in his seat as he grabbed both glasses to hand it to you.

“Yes, sir.” You responded even if serving him like a maid wasn’t your job and begun walking to other side of the room where was a fridge.

It was the beginning of second half of the game now and Argentina had scored twice, which was making Kazuha feel comfortable unlike Mr. Harukami. But for some reason Mbappé, from France, managed to score twice in less than 2 minutes which made Kazuha unstick his back from the comfy sofa and begin watch the game seriously. In worry of losing his 20.000 dollars, he begun to involuntarily drink sips of wine more frequently, which made his glass become empty in seconds. Even you got a little invested in the game but was interrupted by Kazuha’s order.

You came back with both glasses in your hands filled with a fair amount of wine, serving them from behind to not call their attention.

“You look uneasy, Kazuha. Are you scared of Mbappé turning this game around?”

“Yes, I will not lie. As long as I’m a huge fan of Messi, this is his last game… he’s become old. Mbappé is a young, talented player.” Kazuha replied, laying down at his chair again as he sighed, involuntarily realizing that you something was behind him. He took a look behind him and met you zoning out to pay attention at the game, making him chuckle.

“Do you like the game, Y/N?” He asked with a cute smirk in his face.

“It is getting quite interesting, sir.” You replied, putting both your arms behind your back and holding your own left wrist.

“Why don’t you sit down, dear? Your legs must hurting from those heels. Come on.” He suggested while tapping at his right leg with his hand, making you feel confused at his orders.

He was tapping his lap. He wants you to sit there?

“I’m fine, sir, and I believe there are no more places for me to si—”

“I insist, Y/N.” He interrupted, still with that smirk in his face but his voice got demanding.

Still confused with his intentions, you nodded in response and walked to the direction of his right leg, where you sat down. As soon as you did that, you felt Kazuha’s hands instantly hug your waist from behind and pulling you the closest to him he could. You two were so close to each other that you were able to hear his normal-paced breathing blowing bits of wind behind your ear. You thought that position was awkward but Kazuha was acting like it was the most normal thing ever. And that’s how you stayed in his lap for some peaceful minutes until the ball suddenly managed to be kicked all the way close to Argentina’s goal. You heard Kazuha sigh in worry but something else bothered you. A sudden touch of the same hand he used to hug your body slowly attempting to slide under your tight black skirt, making you slightly gasp and hold his wrist down.

“What are you doing?” You whispered, looking at him in pure confusion.

“I just want to enjoy this beautiful woman in my lap.” He replied with a smirk, seeing that you got annoyed with his perversion, gently cuddling your waist with his thumb.

“Kazuha, we’re not in a safe spot nor alone.” You protested, trying to get out of his lap but you were instantly pulled back to his lap.

“Don’t worry, Y/N. Mr. Harukami won’t pay attention to us and these windows are fully black in the vision of whoever is outside, that’s why it has this darker effect for us. No one can see us, not the cameras nor the people. I promise I’ll make it up to you, my dear, but this game is getting on my nerves and you are irresistable in this uniform.” Kazuha whispered with his nose barely going inside your ear, showing a bit of his stress as his hands slid under your skirt.

“Kazuha..!” You called out, with no good argument to use against him even if you still were reluctant.

“Yes… just keep saying my name and I’ll make sure this will be quick.” He chuckled in your ear as you felt his managing to go all the way down and touch the tip of his fingers in your clothed entrance, beginning to tease by cuddling it up and down.

You moaned out and your hips flickered from the tickle and slight pleasure it gave you. Your other hand moved to Kazuha’s left leg, to squeeze it and push yourself upwards whenever he accidentally touched a soft spot. He was miring you very attentively, very amused by your noises and face. So as soon as you and him started to feel your underwear getting slightly wet from his bare touch and your cheeks go pink, Kazuha began to move his hand upwards to slide it under your panties.

“W-Wait..! Not there—!” You tried protesting again but Kazuha managed to touch your clit before you could finish, making you moan in agony and stop complaining for a moment.

Kazuha chuckled at your reaction and kissed your cheek passionately before he begun to pay attention at the game again like he wasn’t playing with a woman’s pussy at the same time. His face was completely normal aside from his usual smirk, eyes locked in the ball as his fingers did wonders at your pussy.

You could feel Mr. Harukami’s gaze sometimes mire your embarrassing situarion whenever your moans got too high.

“Well… this is definitely something new to my eyes, but don’t worry, I’m not complaining.” You hoped that would be the only comment you’d ever hear from Mr. Harukami in the moment.

What Kazuha was doing to you was so embarrassing, finger-fucking you in front of another man and possibly to many cameras, but why the fuck his fingers made you feel so good? Kazuha wasn’t even getting hard meanwhile you were screaming like a dog in heat for his fingers going halfway in and out from your swollen pussy. Even if there was air conditioning in the room, your body was quickly getting really heated from the tense of sex and very easily too, making you become sweaty, your cheeks go pink and the makeup in your eyes begin to crumble from the amounts of slight tears and your strong blinks from agony of being teased.

“Aaand… GOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAL! MBAPPÉ SCORES AGAIN!” The announcer in the radio in the table between the chairs announced again meanwhile the whole left side of stadium outside, where the France cheerers were, went wild.

Kazuha sighed very hard but you felt him suddenly press your clit with 2 fingers way too hard, making your body entirely flinch and a scream escape your mouth.

“Ah! Kazuha! Don—” You screamed out, looking at him behind you annoyed but Kazuha was quick to suddenly take his hand away from your clit and shove his 2 wet fingers in your mouth as his other hand moved to your clit to replace the other one’s job.

“As long as I really enjoy your moans, I need you to be quiet now, ok? You can bite my fingers or squeeze my legs if you need to scream.” He whispered in your ear very calmly but you could feel his stress taking over his usual playful tone and changing the way he aggressively thrusted your pussy.

His fingers in your mouth were also pounding inside it, wanting to be fully sucked and taken by your mouth to censor your distracting noises. You hated how pathetic you looked, choking and drooling in his fingers in front of a window but he was making you feel so good that you didn’t care, you just wanted to fulfill your pussy until it reached a nice orgasm.

“Kazuha, please..!” You whimpered, looking at his face, pulling his hand out of your mouth using your right hand and all your remaining energy. Kazuha smirked in amusement of hearing you call his name so desperately but didn’t even bother to pay attention to you.

“You promise to be quiet, dear?” He whispered again, still more focused in the game than your teasing, fucked-out face.

“Yes!” You whispered highly, making Kazuha chuckle in pride of having you acting so slutty to him.

But still, the same hand he was using inside your mouth was moved back to your waist, crawling it inside your white social shirt and then under your bra, pushing your bra upwards and painting your body with your own saliva in the way. He stopped when he had his palm right on top of your right nipple. His hands begun to slowly pinch it and rotate it in rhythm of his finger thrusts, making you throw your head back in agony. But to obey his previous orders, you rushed a hand to slap your own mouth shut.

The way he played your nipples was making you go insane. You could feel it slightly wet from the saliva that remained on his hand, and just wanted more. You wanted him to squeeze them until they were red-marked, you wanted his dick shoved all the way down in your pussy, you wanted the real thing, but you couldn’t have it. That agony of being tortuously fulfilled made some tears begun to form in your eyes. You tried your best to not let them fall but some of them just couldn’t be held. Your makeup must be looking terrible now, and Kazuha liked the mess he was making of you. His smirk grew wider as he felt a tear coincidentally drop in the hand messing with your hard nipple.

“Kazuha… I’m gonna cum…” You whispered as low as you could, making Kazuha change the way he played with your breast to begin squeezing it and moving it around just like you desired.

It was like he had read your dirty mind. You had to make extra strength in your mouth to not let your scream out as you felt the contrast of his cold hand with your warm, sweaty breast mass.

“Cum all around me, my love.” He ordered, beginning to play with both parts of your bodies quicker than ever.

You wish you could lay your hand on top of Kazuha’s hand and help him to make you reach your orgasm quicker, but you rathered to not disobey his orders. It felt embarrassing to have your whole body twitching and worming right on top of your own boss. His chest and legs felt like a warm pillow, like your face would suddenly just burry in his chest as he toys you infinitely. Your legs were fully spread away at this point, trying to not get dirty by your wetness and begging to be fulfilled. Your hips were trying its best to move upwards to somehow free yourself from his fingers, but Kazuha’s arms felt too strong and hard for your little, wobbly body. Even if you wished that orgasm more than anything, you knew it would hurtful and a lot due to the torture it’s being to reach it. But being edged would be worse, wouldn’t it? If that's how Kazuha makes you feel with a single round, you don't feel like being edged multiple times by his fingers.

Suddenly, you felt your whole body collapse and your breath get caught in your throat. That was it, the moment of release of all that painful, overwhelming pleasure he gave in these 20 minutes. Your mouth was barely ripped apart by your own hands from your own effort on shutting it up and you brought your legs and knees together again, trying to contain the agony of cumming and smashing Kazuha’s hand even if it wasn’t doing anything to torture your sensible pussy anymore and letting you cream his fingers. As soon as you finally stopped making any kind of force, he pulled you back to where you were in his lap and leaned to your ear again.

“Thank you, I feel a lot better.” He complimented as he took his creamy, white fingers off your pussy and licked the juices leaked around them precisely.

He pulled out a tissue from his pocket with his other hand and begun drying his fingers. Right after cleaning himself, his both his hands began to roam around your body to fix your clothes back to normal like you were a doll in a girl's hand. You would be looking normal again if your cheeks weren’t pink, and sweaty, your mouth breathy, your makeup slightly ruined and your soul obviously defeated.

“Seems like we have 2 minutes before the initial timer ends.” Mr. Harukami finally spoke up after those very awkward minutes of silence.

This entire time after Mbbapé’s goal, there was no other goal from both teams.

“Would you like to stand up to watch the final penalties better?” Kazuha asked Mr. Harukami while curling a piece of your hair, assuming that there would be final penalties to decide the game’s winner.

“Of course, I believe I should’ve rented another room… this one doesn’t have the best angle of the goals.” Mr. Harukami commented as he got up.

“Oh, don’t worry Mr. Harukami, the game is still pleasant.” Kazuha said as he grabbed your body and made you stand up for a quick moment just for him to switch your positions and place you back at his spot in the sofa as he grabbed his glass of wine you had filled before. You felt like your entire pressure had dropped to zero when he pulled you up, which made a quick pain in head show up as soon as your body relaxed in the sofa again.

“Rest now.” He asked as he pat your head gently and kissed your forehead before walking away to watch the game from the closest view.

In the next few minutes, you just breathed in and out like a brainless worm until you finally begun to come back to reality again. And… you were mad. Literally how dare he? How dare he treat like a doll? Like a prostitute? Did Kazuha really need to do what he did to you? In front of a man you didn’t know? Was he going to keep doing things like this to you without any kind of prize or money for it? In annoyance, you finally leaned up to a normal sitting position and crossed both your arms and legs in stress, anger and embarrassment, just waiting for Kazuha to notice it and realize he made a mistake in understimating you.

“Well then… I believe this is the end of this year’s World Cup.” Kazuha joked and chuckled at the same time as the crowd in white and blue shirts started to scream with all the strength in their throats.

“Very funny, Kazuha.” He said stressed at Kazuha’s satiric behavior even if it was hypocritical of him.

“So… how are you going to pay me?” Kazuha asked as he drunk a sip of his wine.

“In cash, I’ll have it at your door by tomorrow.” He offered.

“I hope you do, Mr. Harukami. It’s 50.000 in total but spending some time with you is more valuable to me.” Kazuha joked as he finally turned to you again, offering a hand for you to get up.

You looked back at him dead in the eye and completely ignored his gentleness by getting up by your own and walking towards the door to open and hold ir for him.

“Well, I have to agree that today was definitely fun, especially how you de-stress yourself. I might even take the hint to myself.” He commented with a smirk, glazing at you for quick moment with a certain hunger, making you feel even angrier at Kazuha.

Indeed, Kazuha had noticed your displeasure but for now he decided to pretend it didn’t exist and just chuckled at Mr. Harukami’s indirect message for you.

“I would recommend it, Mr. Haru—”

“Sir.” You called Kazuha out during his moment, which could’ve been very risky to your job.

Kazuha turned to you a little surprised at your actions but still took the message, quickly changing his pace in grabbing his stuff.

“Well then, I guess we’ll bat again in the next Olympics?” Kazuha asked as he stepped in your direction but still looking at Mr. Harukami.

“For sure, Kaedehara. Now go, I have some calls to do.” Mr. Harukami agreed with a certain anticipation as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. “See you at January’s convention in China!” He waved before you finally closed the door very carefully.

You begun to walk pretty quickly, taking the lead for no reason at all. And after some embarrassing seconds of walking in a really long corridor with your making loud noises each step, Kazuha finally spoke up.

“Are you angry, Y/N?” Kazuha asked, accelerating his steps to reach you.

“Yes sir, I am.” You replied, involuntarily letting some of your anger out.

“I apologize, Y/N.” He said and you finally stopped walking because you two had arrived at the elevators, pressing the button to go down before turning to him very confidently.

“You can’t just keep using me like this! If that’s all you see and want in me, I believe I shouldn’t be your secretary anymore!” You confessed how you felt, letting more of your anger leave.

“Now, now, let’s not skip so many steps.” He said, trying to get you to calm down as he stepped a little closer to you. You wish he wasn’t that confident too or that you could authority to stop him from getting close to you, but you couldn’t. So you only kept immobile, challenging him with your own body. “That is definitely not how I see you, Y/N.” He confesses, finally taking the situation as serious as it is. “You are one of the most interesting women I’ve ever met.” He complimented with a tiny smirk.

“Of course I am, I let you fuck me for free!” You joked with yourself.

“Oh, Y/N, that’s definitely not my main interest in you. You’re still a mysterious woman for me even if we’ve been together for a year and it deeply pains me. Luckily, we’re both adults, we can both have sex as we wish to. This is just the easy way for me to learn more about you, but I want to learn so much more…” He confessed and one of the elevators opened upon arrival.

“What do you want to learn about me so bad, Kazuha?” You asked, thinking he was joking as you walked in the elevator.

You aren’t rich, talented or the prettiest woman Kazuha knows. What could he possibly like in you?

Unfortunately, you decided to lean yourself against a wall with your arms crossed. So as soon as Kazuha pressed the “G” button in the table, he leaned closer to you until your foreheads were touching, his hands holding the handrail by your side. You were cornered.

“You’re a sexy, independent, intelligent and precise woman… always working hard to make my life more peaceful, better and entertaining. But unfortunately, you always restricted us to our professional relationship, so I never got to know too much. I know who your parents and siblings are but I don’t know why you have a bad relationship with them or what happened on that one phone call, remember? Where you were saying that you didn’t want to pay it? I was dying of curiosity but you still didn’t let me help you out. You’ve been edging me just like I edged you in that sofa, but for months. I know you can clearly see my burning with desire for you, Y/N. This isn’t the first time I got you embarrassed like this.” Kazuha confessed, leaving you speechless as the elevator shakes for a quick moment and the doors opened again.

“Parking lots.” The robotic female voice stated.

But both of you stood there for many seconds, and just like Kazuha mentioned, you can feel him burning in desire of bringing your lips together and fuck you like an animal right at that exact wall.

“Well, I definitely did not expect this.” You confessed with a smirk growing in your face too, making Kazuha just more amused with you. “That day, Kaedehara Kazuha, my parents wanted me to pay a debt they’ve caused by themselves in a casino. I’ve always warned them to not go there, but they didn’t listen. I didn’t only want you to not know I came out of those hags but I also didn’t want you to waste your money in them.”

“So protective of me…” He teased.

“It's my job... don't take it personally." You teased back. "But... I'm gonna trust you, Kazuha. Even if you have a lot of work to do to redeem all those make-out sessions we've done where you didn't even bother to prize me for.” You threatened jokingly, curling a piece of his hair in your fingers.

“Oh, I will… in fact, want me to work some of it out in the backseats right now?” He challenged and you stared at him for some seconds before chuckling at his desperation to savor you.

“Sure.” You said, finally pushing your way out of his prison gently, edging him yet another time. "Come on, boss." You said, stopping right at the door and leaning your body against the metal door, holding it for his passage in a very sensual pose.

"You're gonna regret being this naughty." He whispered in your ear with his usual calm voice as he walked out of the elevator following the direction of his car.

But you could feel it. He can't hide it from you.

It being his lust for you.

#genshin impact #smut #genshin smut #kazuha #kaedehara kazuha #genshin x reader #genshin kazuha #kazuha x reader #world cup

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