#so I become defensive when he starts in on that shit and then on top of all of that he tries to make me feel like I’m crazy for having a | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

daddyslilchickenfingers2 · 6 months

Text

Kinktober (reuploaded)

Pent up (Chris)

Request: None

Warnings: Small fight, horny Chris, besties to lovers (when is that not the case?), minimal crying, inexperienced Chris, handjob, embarrassment/humiliation if you squint, switch Chris & reader, cumshot, riding, minimal degradation, begging

Chris’ pov

I’ve only ever had sex once in my life, it was when I was 17 and it was pretty trash, not gonna lie. It’s been 3 years since then and it’s been up to me to get myself off, which had been fine until recently. Nothing I do is working, I’ve tried switching hands, grinding on my bed, fucking pillows, humping random things, using a vibrator, and I still can’t cum. That doesn’t stop my dick from getting hard though, sometimes I go all day with a half-hard dick. It’s gotten to the point where it’s uncomfortable and starting to hurt because basically, all I can do is edge myself. I haven’t been able to fucking cum for 6 weeks, I don’t do hookups or one-night stands either so I’m literally screwed. (or not screwed in this sense)

Now that our friend Y/n from back home has moved to LA as well, my usually half-hard dick has become fully hard. We’ve known her for about 8 years, so needless to say she’s our best friend but that doesn’t mean I don’t find her attractive. Sure, in middle and high school I wasn’t attracted to her like that, plus she was more so Nick’s friend until we turned 16 and he came-out. She’s recently gotten a bigger following on social media and had moved out to LA for better opportunities, it was also obviously a plus that she’d get to see us more.

If I’m being honest, ever since Covid, Y/n has really had a glow up, we all have. However, I wasn’t used to seeing her all the time, except for on FaceTime, but her attractiveness never really affected me then. Now with Y/n coming over all the time, it was hard not to be affected by her attractiveness. It’s even harder when she wears short shorts/skirts, crop tops, or tank tops, and especially when she’s braless. I’d never say or do anything though, I don’t want to make her uncomfortable. Plus, what am I supposed to say? “Oh by the way, you make me hard when you wear clothes like that, could you please stop?” there’s absolutely no way I’d do that.

I’ve been doing my best to avoid Y/n for the past month and I think she’s starting to catch on, she probably thinks I’m mad at her. I catch her giving me hurt and confused looks all the time and Matt says I hurt her feelings by pushing her away for no reason. Except there was a reason, but nobody knew that and nobody was going to find out. At least that was the plan until today as Y/n came over yet again. She walked through the door as usual, saying hi to Matt and Nick before they left for some reason. I was extremely confused because we didn’t have any plans and they didn’t mention that they were going somewhere.

Y/n came over to the couch and sat next to me, I just stayed on my phone until she took it out of my hand. She set it down on the coffee table before wrapping both her arms around my left one. Y/n put her head on my shoulder and sadly said, “I’m sorry, I don’t know what I did but I’m sorry.” that made me feel like shit. I sighed and removed my arm from her hold to give her an actual hug. “Don’t apologize, you didn’t do anything wrong. If anything, I’m sorry.” I sighed again as I heard her sniffle. She wrapped her arms tightly around my torso and I heard her sniffing a second time.

“Please don’t cry Y/n, I’m sorry. I’m just going through something with myself and it’s difficult being around you” I really should’ve worded that better because Y/n immediately pulled away. She was now understandably defensive and upset “What’s that supposed to mean!? You don’t like being around me!? I literally paid Matt and Nick to stay the night at my house so I could talk to you privately and now you don’t even want to be around me!?” she yelled at me. She got off the couch and started walking towards the door crying.

I felt like an asshole so I immediately went after her, pulling her into a tight hug before pulling away and wiping away her tears. “God, you’re gonna fucking hate me after I say this.” I said before taking a deep breath and continuing. “It’s difficult to be around you because you turn me on and make me extremely hard. It’s not your fault, it’s just my body being stupid. I can’t believe I’m telling you this but I haven’t been able to cum in like 6 weeks, I get painfully hard and can basically only edge myself. You know I don’t do hookups so I can only rely on myself and it’s just not working. I’m sorry.” I told her truthfully.

Y/n started laughing, like full on hysterically laughing. I stood there, not finding what I just funny but still cracked a smile at her laughter. “Oh my god, you’re such a jackass!” she joked, making me a little bit confused. “You could’ve just said that and I would’ve given you a handjob weeks ago!” she said between laughs. I didn’t know what to say back so I just stood there staring at her in shock. “Bullshit, I’ve been trying to hide the fact that you’ve been making me hard for weeks just for you to say you’d give me a handjob!? That’s fucking crazy!” I laughed while shaking my head.

Y/n’s pov

I can’t believe all the confusion and hurt going on, on my end was all because I turn Chris on. Yeah no shit he’s one of my best friends, but he’s also obviously very active and I’d honestly give him a handjob just for fun. I love the thought of making someone cum with just my hand, I’m obviously a bit more experienced than Chris since I had a boyfriend for 2 years and we had sex but it didn’t bother me. I like knowing I’ll be the only person to have given him a handjob and the second to touch him intimately like that.

After Chris said this was all crazy, I turned to walk back into the living room when he grabbed my wrist, turning me around. “And where do you think you’re going?” he asked in a cocky tone, “To sit down, what are you doing?” I said back. “I believe you owe me a handjob. Can’t believe you came over to talk to me in such a slutty little outfit and expected me to not get hard” Chris said with a smirk as his hands went to my waist. He pulled me against him so I could feel his half-hard cock and he’s fucking huge.

I decided to mess with him a bit and pull away, doing a little spin before saying, “You don’t like my outfit? Is it because I look bad?” I fake pouted. Chris grabbed my hips once again but his hands almost immediately went down to my ass. “I love it, I just don’t want others seeing what’s mine.” he said lowly, “Possessive.” I teased him, poking his chest. “Is that a problem?” he asked, “Not at all.” I replied. “Good. Now about that handjob offer-“ he started before I cut him off, “ Yes, I’ll give you a handjob now c’mon.” I laughed at his neediness.

We got to his room and I sat on his bed, taking my shoes off while he took off his shirt and laid down, propped by pillows. “Wait! Y-You know um…” he trailed off so I spoke up instead. “Know that you’ve only ever been touched and seen naked once? Yes, I’m aware.” “Oh, um okay, yeah that’s what I was gonna say. I was also going to ask if we could like makeout first? You know, to make me less nervous…” Chris blushed cutely. “Anything you want, tonight is all about your pleasure.” I smiled at him before moving my lips to meet his. Right before our lips we’re about to meet Chris mumbled, “Want you on my lap” pulling my waist so I was now sitting on his lap.

I once again leaned down to attach our lips, my left hand was on his chest while my right cupped his jaw. The kiss was a little slow at first and I could feel that Chris was still half-hard, slowly getting fully hard when he deepened the kiss. I wasn’t expecting him to run his tongue across my bottom lip or squeeze my ass so he could gain access to my mouth, but I was glad he did. The kiss started to get hot and I loved the way Chris whimpered a bit before pulling away. “Want you to touch my cock.” he panted with a smirk. Chris took off his pants before asking me to take off my skirt, which I did, “Goddamn baby, you’ve got such a nice ass.” he said before slapping my ass, making me laugh.

“Just sit back, relax, and enjoy” I winked at him before placing another kiss to his lips, sliding my hand over his hard-on. I pulled away and saw a bit of fear flash through his eyes, “Chris, are you okay? Do you want me to stop?” I asked softly, removing my hand from him. “No, I want you to keep going. I just- this won’t ruin our friendship or be awkward after, right?” he asked nervously. I brought my hand up to stroke his cheek, “I promise this won’t ruin our friendship or be awkward. I just wanna help you, plus it’s fun and enjoyable for me too.” I smiled. Chris smiled back, “Okay good. Please continue.” he said while blushing.

“Do you have lube and can I take off your boxers?” “Yes and yes” he replied, leaning over to grab the lube from his dresser next to his bed. He handed it to me before pulling down his boxers and blushing. “Holy fuck Chris! You’re fucking huge!” I said shocked because he’s a lot bigger than I expected. “Mmm shut up.” he whined back embarrassed, gasping loudly when I started slowly jerking him off. I looked at his face as it twisted with pleasure, I started to move my hand a bit faster as he looked at me, causing him to close his eyes and bite his lip to prevent any moans from falling past them. His face turned a bright pink, making me smile as I moved my other hand to his face, pulling his lip away from his teeth with my thumb.

“C’mon Chris, let me hear those pretty moans. Open those gorgeous eyes for me.” I softly ordered him. His hands were by his sides, balled up in fists as he gripped onto the sheets below him. He let a small whine when he opened his eyes and saw mine looking back at them. “Does that feel good?” I asked seductively, “G-Go faster.” he said, “Can you use your manners for me?” I teased. Chris gave me a pleading look, not wanting to beg but that quickly changed when I stilled my movements. “No, don’t stop! P-Pease go faster!” he groaned, immediately avoiding eye contact with me. I lightly gripped his jaw as I started moving my hand again, I turned his head to face me before saying, “So good with your words.” I smiled before slowly making out with him.

Chris pulled away to let out a particularly loud moan as I felt some precum leak out of his tip. I decided if I wanted to go faster, I’d need to use the lube, squirting some directly onto his cock. I sped up my movements, making Chris’ whines and moans get louder. “Talk to me.” “What?” “Dirty talk to me, tell me I’m being good. I don’t know just talk to me, I’m getting close.” he said. “Awe that’s cute, I haven’t even been jerking you off for 10 minutes and you’re already gonna cum.” I teased thinking he’d get mad at me but instead let out a loud whimper. “You like when I do that?” I asked when I started moving faster, Chris just whined and nodded his head erratically, feeling slightly humiliated.

I dug my thumb into his slit, collecting precum before using my other hand to play with his balls. My fist would tighten every time I went up towards the head, making Chris whimper and whine. I was so focused on pleasuring him that I jumped when I felt his hands come up towards my boobs, “Sorry, I ju-“ he started being I cut him off. “It’s okay I just wasn’t expecting you to touch me, go ahead and do whatever you were gonna do. You’re being such a good boy.” I added the last sentence experimentally to see if he’d like it, and to my surprise, he let out a loud, whiny moan. He moved my tank top straps down and lowered it so my boobs were now visible. Chris looked from my boobs up to my face, getting embarrassed when he found me already looking at him.

“Fuck Y/n/n don’t look at me like that, you’re gonna make me cum.” he whined. I decided to move positions and go in between his legs so I could get a better angle, Chris’ eyes blew out with lust at that. He became a whining, whimpering mess, “Fuck, fuck, fuck! Shit ‘m gonna cum!” he loudly moaned out. I started moving my hand as fast as I could, trying to keep his hips still at the same time. Chris’ left hand came down to tightly hold onto my right wrist as the pleasure was overwhelming due to him edging himself for so long. I saw his stomach flex and thighs start to shake a bit, signaling he was about to cum. Not wanting to make a big mess, I moved his cock so it was up against his stomach, that way he wouldn’t cum all over his sheets.

“Fuck Y/n! Oh shit- yes I’m cumming!” he groaned out loudly, “Be a good boy and cum for me.” I replied seductively. Chris let out something that was a mix between a whine and a growl, which sounded so fucking hot. Within a couple of seconds, thick strings of white cum started to paint his body as I jerked him through his orgasm. I watched in awe as this was the biggest cumshot I’ve ever seen, some cum even made it all the way up to his face. That was fucking hot, I helped him through the aftershocks of his orgasm, during which he let out multiple whimpers and whines. I was so out of it that I didn’t realize Chris’ cock had now turned soft, “S-Stop too much, ‘m sensitive!” he moaned, causing me to finally let go of his cock.

Chris was breathing heavily but he looked so fucking good covered in his own cum like this. “Chris, are you okay?” I asked gently, with his eyes closed all he could do was whimper out a response that would turn me on even more. “P-Picture! Take a picture of me covered in my cum!” I was a bit shocked but nonetheless, I got up to grab my phone. I wasn’t even turned around for a more than a minute, but by the time I got back to the bed with my phone, he was already hard again. I took a few pictures before telling him to open his eyes, Chris looked at me with an extremely fucked out expression and a dopey smile as I took the last picture.

Even though Chris was basically fucked dumb at this point, he still somehow managed to take control of the situation. He grabbed me by my throat and pulled me closer to him, causing me to let out a surprised whine. “Clean my cum up with your tongue and ride me. Like you said earlier, tonight is all about my pleasure, meaning you’re gonna be the slut who does all the work.” he stated in an authoritative tone. I replied with a quick, “Yes sir.” before I started licking up his cum from his stomach all the way up to his face. He actually tasted really good, once he was clean of his cum, he sat up against the headboard.

Grabbing the bottom of my tank top, he said “Take it off.” before watching me pull it over my head. I was honestly a bit surprised at how much of a power bottom Chris was being right now, considering this is only his second time having sex. He pulled me onto his lap before smashing our lips together, biting mine as he pulled back to toy with the side of my panties. “Take these off before I fucking rip them off.” he growled, I immediately took them off and sat back on his lap. “Can I please just fuck myself on your cock now?” I whined, “Well you’re the one who’s gonna do all the work so go ahead. Condoms are i-“ he said cockily before I cut him off. “We don’t need one of those unless you want it.” I told him before kissing his neck, “Goddamn, no condom then.” he grunted.

I slowly sunk down onto his massive cock, “Jesus Christ! You’re so fucking tight!” he moaned out while his voice cracked. “Mhm you’re so big Chris!” I whimpered as I started bouncing on his dick. Chris helped me move by griping onto my ass while I started sucking hickies into his neck. “Baby you can’t leave marks, Matt and Nick can’t know.” he panted out, making me loudly whine. I didn’t stop though, I really didn’t care about his brothers finding out. However, I did stop when he slapped my ass and pulled my hair, “I told you to fucking stop!” he growled in my ear. I started moving a bit faster as he started sucking hickies into my chest, “Just wanted to mark you up!” I whined.

“Why? You tryna claim me as your own or something? Can’t stand the idea of other girls looking at me?” he teased me. Suddenly I turned into the whiny one, blabbing out incoherent sentences without thinking. “Don’t want others looking at you. Only me, you’re mine- please Chris! Want you!” I cried out as the pleasure started to become too much. “Please what baby? What do you want me to do?” he asked, looking at me with his eyes full of lust, “Just want you!” I said frustrated. Chris started thrusting up into me, “Yeah, you want me baby? You got me, I’m yours princess, kiss me.” he said softly in my ear. I moved my hands to wrap around his neck and thread through his hair as our lips met in a feverish kiss.

Chris helped me move faster as he thrusted up into me as well before he moved one hand from my waist to rub my clit. He moved his kisses down my neck, sweetly sucking more hickies into the skin. “Feel so good around my cock princess.” he mumbled, “Shit, Chris I’m gonna cum!” I cried out. With that Chris flipped us over and started drilling into me, looking down at me with a smirk. “Cum on my cock babe, cum so I can fill you up with mine.” he groaned, I pulled him down for another kiss, moaning into it. He was fucking into me at a fairly fast pace while rubbing my clit in tight, fast circles. I tightened around him as I started to cum, moaning loudly. Chris’ thrusts grew sloppy and before I knew it, he was loudly groaning and filling me up with his cum.

He fucked into me for a couple more seconds then pulled out, laying down next to me. As I came down from my high, a wave of emotions hit me and I suddenly got nervous. “Chris…” I said barely above a whisper, he just pulled me into his side, laying my head on his chest. He pulled the blankets up over us, “Shhh, it’s okay, I know. We’ll talk about it in the morning, I promise this doesn’t change anything in a bad way. Just go to sleep princess, everything’s gonna be okay.” he said in a soothing voice, calming my nerves. “Okay, goodnight Chris.” I said softly, “Goodnight pretty girl.” he replied back, protectively wrapping his arms around me.

Taglist: @angelic-sturniolos111 @biimpanicking @biplrbtch @chrisolivia4l @christinarowie332 @chr1sgirl4life @creamoncreamoncream2 @delimeats-000 @devthepoet @ermdontmindthisaccount @flowerxbunnie @fionaheartswomen @gilbertscurls @heartsforchrisandmatt @iheartchrissturniolo @ilovemattsturn @its-jennarose @justaslvttygirl @kvtie444 @lustfulslxt @luvysworld @meg-sturniolo @m6ttsturniolo @mangosrar @mangoposts @meerkatzthings @mattsnutsack @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @recklesssturniolo @solarsturniolo @soursturniolo @strniohoeee @strawberrysturniolo @sturniolocoded @sturniofilmd @sturniolohoe @sturniolopepsi @sturniolo0ntop @thecynthh

All work is subject to copyright

©Daddyslilchickenfingers2 2024

Do not steal, use, or reupload my work

417 notes · View notes

yandere-kokeshi · 9 months

Note

Pregnant! Darling with kratos mhmhmh. The reassurance on both sides, and constant soft comments on how Kratos is better than he was before not only for their unborn child but Atreus mhmhmmm

— Yandere Kratos with a pregnant darling

Warnings: yandere behavior and pregnancy

A/N: I fucking love this, please send in more shit like this. I'm feral for this man <3. Enjoy!

Once he finds out, he’s quiet. Kratos is staring at you, then hovers down to your stomach. His body is stiff, hands clenching and unclenching before a hand reaches and touches your stomach, grasping at it as his fingers glide over your skin. It’s only a matter of seconds as he brings you into a tight embrace as he repeats his promises.

“Are you — sure? I promise. I promise to Atreus, and to you, I will take care of you two.”

Atreus loves to ask questions which only result in the baby. He’s just as excited as his father, and promises to protect you.

It’s no surprise Kratos is paranoid. Even at the start of the few weeks, he’s constantly checking up on you; asking if everything is okay, or does all-nighters to ensure you and Atreus are safe. He knows it’s unhealthy, but he can’t stop the guilt — the obvious fear of losing you. He’s always ready, in a sense that danger is around, even though it’s been days from fights.

This also comes with him being a severe mother hen. Any noises or sighs coming out of you, has him hovering and asking what’s wrong. If you say nothing, he seemingly doesn’t believe you; giving you an ‘are you sure?’ look before huffing and returning to whatever he was doing.

He’s always been a gentle giant with you, touching you with such gentleness. But now, with you being pregnant? He’s extremely careful with you. Always treating you like a shell from the sea ready to shatter. He’s always guiding you with his hands on your hips and lower back, and yelling at ‘no’, when you try to help with house chores.

On the topic of house chores, he doesn’t let you do anything. Not a single chore or hunt is done by you; he orders Atreus or goes by himself to do it. In his defense, he doesn’t want you wasting your energy, or pulling a muscle, especially if you’re far more down the months.

Morning sickness is guaranteed and when it happens, Kratos takes it with a stroll. He’s there next to you, holding your hair back if you need, or rubbing your back. He brings you fresh-cold water to sip on and insists you stay hydrated.

When the baby bump starts showing, Kratos spends most of his time just looking at them — admiring your body, and how gorgeous you are. He finds the pregnant body attractive, how your body grows accustomed to the baby: long and spreading stretch marks, the black line, and muscles that become more prominent. He enjoys tracing them, especially if it’s the time when you two can rest.

When sleeping, he’s always had a habit of you having your head lay on his chest or directly on top of him. Now with you growing a kiddo, he’s constantly wanting you on top of him — your weight helps him sleep better and eases his mind while he overthinks. Plus, he gets to grasp and hold your tummy.

From his experiences with pregnancy, he knows it’s difficult — especially for you, so he never gets mad or upset whenever you yell at him or suddenly cry. Surprisingly, he’s good at supporting you when your emotions are unregulated; always comforting you, and rubbing your back when everything becomes too overwhelming. His hugs tighten, and leaves you alone when needed.

Kratos is always following you, especially in the baths. He enjoys sitting behind you, washing your back or places you cannot reach. Towards the end, he just holds your stomach, rubbing large circles on your lower hips and kissing your sore muscles, whispering how much he adores your perfect body.

The best healers are assigned to you. He’s always with you, asking questions regarding your health and the baby. His demanding presence is enough to scare them, if not his rough voice that constantly shuffles to you and back to them. If he feels unsure, both of you are leaving and going to Freya’s — to which he tries to avoid, but if it needs to be done, then so be it.

Even though he doesn’t want to say it, Kratos worries about the day of meeting the baby. He’s excited of course, wants to meet them and can’t wait for the day of their cries, he’s scared of hurting them– large hands filled with old tainted blood and guilt; what if’s playing in his head.

At night, on the ones he can’t fall asleep, he loves to talk to your stomach — his low baritone asking questions and ensuring their safety, with his own blood, will be his top priority.

Kratos loves seeing Atreus engaging with you.

The boy always reassures you of bending over on an object that he’s already reaching for, and treating you like glass; just like how his father does. He hunts, brings you food, spends time with you and sometimes asks if he can feel the baby. He’s just as attached as his father, and already views you as his other parent.

—

Masterlist || Reblogs, comments, and likes are very much appreciated!! Stay well!!

844 notes · View notes

papaya-twinks · 2 months

Text

just an assistant - l.n

Warnings: Angst, ghosting, swearing

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader

A/N - y’all are gonna hate me tehe 🤭

Lando was starting to see you as more than ‘just an assistant

And it was well and truly bugging him. You woke up, from your bed, and decided to change into your outfit, a simply, tight white sleeved top and grey joggers, along with some white trainers. The thoughts and sound of Lando from last night, the sound of your name on his lips….you couldn’t forget it.

You’d be psycho not to. You were distracted as you made his toast, the bread coming out a lot darker than you’d hoped, not burnt, but definitely over cooked. Shit. You spread the butter anyways, silently hoping Lando wouldn’t notice as you put the plate down on the table beside him. He noticed, obviously.

Lando was a picky eater, you knew that, but surprisingly, he said nothing, eating the toast anyways, and trying not to spit it out. Your next mistake was when he asked you to the clean his simulator rig, and you’d accidentally knocked over your bucket of soapy water, and it had flooded onto the bottom, luckily not getting any wires.

“Y/N, what the hell?!” Lando exclaimed when he walked in, seeing the little puddle under his face seat. “I-,” you started, but he interrupted this. “God…just try not to mess everything up,” he snapped. This wasn’t like you. This wasn’t like you at all, you never made mistakes.

What had happened to the Y/N he knew? And then the thoughts started flooding in for Lando. Had you…maybe heard him last night? Had he been caught red handed? Did you hear the way he groaned your name? Or how his mind went into overdrive when the sweet, sweet sound of your name left his lips?

He had to talk to you. Lando just had to. To make sure, that his worst fears were not confirmed, and you were having an off day, or something. You tried to avoid him as much as possible, every time you saw his face, images of him between your legs, pressing kisses to your stomach, his lips trailing down past your hips, down your legs, his lips pressing right to your-

“Y/N,”. You were snapped out of your thoughts by the sound of your own name, not a moan this time, but a colder, sterner tone, as you looked up from the floor you were scrubbing, your hand wrapped tightly round the sponge. You’d look pretty holding something else. Lando mentally scolded himself for the dirty thought, shaking it away as he stared down at you.

Look great on your knees. Enough! This was getting out of hand, and way too far. Lando couldn’t be thinking these things about you, you were supposed to be just an assistant. You were nothing more and meant nothing more to Lando than the person who cleaned up after him and did work and shit. That was your purpose.

“Get up,” he said, his voice commanding yet showing no emotion. You did what he said, trying to push the images out your mind as you looked to him, cheeks tinged slightly pink. “I have a question,” he said, trying to hide the waver in his voice as he looked anywhere but your face, his eyes roving from the floor, to your hands, to your chest, to the wall, to your chest, to the floor, to your chest, to your shoes, to your chest.

Ah. This was getting a bit repetitive. “When did you go to bed?” Lando said, choosing his words carefully. Well shit. “10pm,” you responded simply. It was the time you had GONE to bed, but not necessarily slept…

“Don’t give me that,” Lando said, his voice raising to a snarl. “When did you go to sleep?” he asked, immediately becoming defensive. “Around 11,” you said. You had fallen asleep at 11, but you had just woken up a few times during the night. “Did you wake up during the night?” Lando said, leaning forwards. “A bit,” you saw, cheeks red, as his eyes widened.

“Why’d you ask?” you added, a sudden burst of confidence in your voice. “No reason,” he said quickly, “just wanted to see why you were slacking,”. So you had heard. Shit. Lando ignored you the rest of the day, leaving you to your tasks, and not bringing any girls home that night, instead dealing with himself in the bathroom.

finish the jobs on the list, y/n, I’m out for the day.

That was what the note on the kitchen counter read when you came downstairs, Lando nowhere in sight. He’d gone out, that was reasonable, but he’d usually told you before, at least the day before he’d leave. The list was long enough to keep you preoccupied and you did the work, well enough, when your phone dinged, a message from your friend, Eryn, flashing on the screen.

Eryn: heyyyyy, isn’t that dude u work for’s name Lando Norris or something

You frowned at the sudden message, you’d told her you had a job and mention Lando a few times, but didn’t say anything more. You responded with a 👍 as the three bubbles appeared once more, before she sent you a link. ‘Lando Norris spotted with mystery girl on at a restaurant - could it be his assistant, Y/N Y/L/N?’

You stared at the image of the article. She looked very much like you - incredibly beautiful, of course, and quite similar, but not enough to be as pretty as you. But thanks to the blurry photo, she happened to look exactly like you. There were loads of articles about you and Lando supposedly at some restaurant together, your eyes wide.

Ah shit.

A/N - meow

#lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris x you #lando norris #lando x reader #f1 #lando norris smut #just an assistant

302 notes · View notes

notmyneighbor · 2 months

Text

instinct | doppel francis x female reader

rating | explicit

part 3/?

words | 4.8k

cw | explicit sexual content, light breathplay, breeding kink

ao3 link

fanart credit | kri_stasss on X

taglist | @maskedpacific @dreamndestiny @r-o-s-e-0

“We can’t do this.”

The words tear reluctantly from your throat when your mouth is finally granted a reprieve, the doppelganger’s lips now teasing beside your ear.

“Why not?” His voice purrs, punctuating this question by licking a stripe around the thin skin shielding the curve of cartilage.

Fuck. “Because it’s unprofessional, for one thing.” You try to make your voice stern but you notice the distinct waver when his mouth distracts you yet again.

“Given your behavior earlier, I don’t think you entirely understand the meaning of that term.” His teeth clutch your ear lobe, tugging lightly, and your breath escapes in a sharp hiss of sound.

“Are you still giving me shit for that? I said I was sorry.” You’re trying to hold onto your anger from earlier, to regain some sense of control and composure. But it’s becoming more and more obvious the cause is lost. His hand clutches your hip, his pelvis grinding against your body and your brain short circuits over the next lined up protest once again.

“And I said I didn’t believe you. I still don’t,” he reprimands, rolling his hips so the bulge at the front of his suit pants nudges your groin.

“What’s it gonna take to convince you, then?” Your fingers have mussed the mimic’s hair completely, finally abandoning that zone to move further down, nails scrabbling against your partner’s shirtfront.

“You could start by inviting me in properly. Bring this somewhere more comfortable. Unless you want me to fuck you up against the door. That’s also an option,” he murmurs, his tongue stroking up the arch of your throat.

“Jesus,” you hiss at his brazenness.

“Francis, actually.”

“You’re making jokes now, too?” This comes out almost as a squeak when his hand begins palming one breast through your blouse, his fingers managing to pinch your nipple even through the layers of clothing shielding it.

“Adapting to the situation.”

“You do this with all your police partners?”

He draws back to look at your features, his body suddenly going still. “No. Never. You’re the first. Why?”

You shake your head. “Nothing.”

“You’re jealous,” he decides, nipping at your bottom lip.

“No, I’m not. Why would I be?”

“Defensive, too. You can relax. It’s just us. You don’t have to prove anything to anyone. I know you’re a hardass.” Another kiss. “And I know your heart is in the right place. I know I’ve said this before, and you said you agreed, but I can tell you’re not really willing to trust me. You absolutely have got to work with me, not against me. Okay?”

There is nothing mocking in his tone now. The replicant stares at you with those dark eyes housed in bruised looking sockets and you find yourself surrendering a little. “I am trying to do the right thing,” you reply. “You don’t know how difficult it is, being a woman in this field, seen as something lesser just because of your very nature, something you have absolutely no control over…” Your voice trails off as you realize the implications of what you’re saying. “You do understand,” you say softly.

“I do. All too well.”

Your final surrender is issued in a gentle sigh. “You want to come in? Maybe take this somewhere more comfortable?” You echo his words from earlier.

His lips twitch in a smile. “Yes, I would.”

“Okay.”

He steps back to give you room to move. The sudden absence of the warm press of his body makes yours ache with longing already. You lead him to the bedroom, trying to push the rest of the doubts and misgivings from your mind.

Once you’ve reached your destination, you turn to face the milkman’s clone. You rest a palm against his chest, feel the thudding of his heart. Start small, you think. One step at a time. Don’t overthink it. Just do it. Let it happen naturally.

You slide your fingers to the top button of his shirt, unfastening that one and the one below it. Curls of dark hair are faintly visible beneath his now exposed undershirt. You lean forward to kiss his chest through that thin layer of fabric and he hums a little appreciative sigh. His fingers weave through your hair and tip your head back and his mouth captures yours. There is no teasing now. His tongue sets forth to map the interior of that warm, wet opening you offer, starting with the tip and then sliding along either side of the base. Another burst of heat sizzles between your thighs when he reaches for the fly of your pants, unfastening them and jerking them down to your thighs, along with your panties.

“Your scent has been driving me insane. Begging to be bred.” The hand forcefully knots in your hair, tugging your head back further, and you glare at the doppel, challenging him. “The real question is, do you want to be fucked by a man, or do you want me to show you my true potential?”

You refuse to answer, suddenly tight lipped, teeth stubbornly gritted but your nostrils flare, dragging air in sharply at this unexpected opportunity. You’re still struggling over the idea of intimacy with a replicant, who is supposed to be an enemy species, but the seeming wrongness of it excites you. You can feel the slick arousal oozing between your clenched thighs, your body way ahead of your mind.

“I want to devour you,” he says, and you can see the faintest hint of his teeth growing sharper, narrowing into points, the tongue no longer the modest replica of the human he’s impersonating. Devour me? Does he mean…? The clone’s pupils snap from abyssal pools to small specks surrounded by burst vessels. Your pulse ratchets up even further, caution whispering in your thoughts. He’s still dangerous, alliance or not. Each revelation of what truly lies beneath makes you shiver with a combination of fear and anticipation. Your lips part and you gasp when you feel his other hand at your mound, thumb wedging in between your nether lips to press firmly against your swollen, aching clit. A sharp point digs into the pink flesh bordering it, something claw-like that doesn’t penetrate, merely letting you know of its presence.

“Give yourself to me,” he rasps, the hand at your pussy lifting, settling at the neckline of your blouse before dragging down in one swift, sharp motion. The row of buttons surrenders, the threads severed and the plastic pieces scattering to the carpet.

“I didn’t like that shirt anyway.” You try to keep your tone light and playful, but it shakes as much as your body does.

The doppel regards you, the grin of those fangs now wolfish. “Are we cracking jokes now?” His words echo yours earlier. “Or is this merely false bravado? You’re terrified,” he says, the adjective caressed by the thick tongue coiled in his mouth, “but so brave.”

“Just don’t rip my brassiere. It’s one of my favorites.”

“I can see that.” His hand inverts, the backs of his fingers sliding over satin and lace. “Take it off for me. Everything. I want to see you laid bare.”

“You asking or ordering? Because I don’t—”

You’re interrupted by his mouth crushing yours. Oh. This was different. There’s so much of that tongue, now. The texture is smoother, the saliva coating it thicker. It’s more agile, too, no longer restricted by that fragile little tether beneath, free to roam, twisting and stroking your cheeks and palate and tongue before creeping back further and further. Deepthroated. Like choking on dick, only this has so much more mobility. Your gag reflex kicks in and your throat reflexively clutches, trying to expel this intruder but you remain resolute, forcing yourself to relax, to accept this challenge.

He withdraws and you gasp for air. You can feel the spit, some of it yours but most of it his, gushing over your lips and chin and trickling down your neck. “Oh, you’re good, sweetheart. Taking it so well. I’m going to love shoving my cock down there later. More of a challenge, to be certain, but I’m sure you can handle it.” He grabs one of your hands and moves it to the front of his crotch and your eyes widen. He’s not bragging idly. The image of that invading your mouth, your cunt, sends a fresh wave of arousal spilling from your channel. “Don’t make me wait any longer. Let me have you,” he growls.

You fumble with the hooks at the back of your bra, trying to divest yourself of your garments as hurriedly as possible. He still seems so methodical, unfastening the sleeves of his shirt, running down the remaining fastened buttons lining the front—not tearing through his own clothing, you notice—then easing out of his jacket and then finally pulling his undershirt overhead in one smooth motion, reaching overhead between his shoulder blades. You’ve managed to clear everything from your upper body and you sit on the edge of the bed to finish the job he’s already started on your lower half, watching raptly as his leather belt strap is slipped free of the belt buckle, pants and briefs thrust down and fuck, you’d known, you’d felt it in the palm of your hand, but still, the display in front of you was more than a little intimidating. His cock angles up and slightly to the left, leaking red, circumcised; like the original milkman’s, then, you suppose there is not a single detail he’s left imperfected, but that size surely is more of a reflection of his own, making you wonder not for the first time what he really looks like, beneath the handsome human countenance, scaled and monstrous, never meant to be viewed by human eyes.

Once he’s standing naked he finally moves towards you, pushing you back into the bed, your ass skidding along the top sheet, rumpling the material. Your head lands near the pile of pillows at the top, or close enough, anyway. You don’t care about the comfort of those cushions, already distracted by his mouth back on yours.

He doesn’t linger, doesn’t test your reflex this time, instead lapping his way down your body. He teases along your collarbones and slides between your breasts, then over each nipple, the sight of his hand grasping each globe to raise the stiffened centers into his wicked mouth terrifying erotic when you see those dusky claws digging into your flesh. You’re trying to stifle most of your noises of pleasure, mindful of the thin walls and your neighbors, but the doppelganger frowns over this, the tongue that has just painted a line to your umbilicus after outlining several of your ribs pausing.

“Don’t do that. I want to hear you.”

“The neighbors…”

“Fuck the neighbors. I want to hear the pleasure I’m giving you.”

You whimper but nod, neck craning to watch where that mouth is traveling, knowing exactly where its final destination lies. You feel his teeth scrape along one hip and the inside of your thighs that you spread for him, never piercing the skin but leaving red welts behind. Your body tenses in anticipation before he plants a surprisingly gentle kiss at the top of your mound, his eyes locked on your features. You know he’s smiling, even if your view is blocked at this angle. Then his tongue darts out, flicking your bud so sharply it’s like a slap, and you moan, your hips rocketing upward.

Francis’ clone wraps his arms around each leg, keeping you anchored and splayed for him, braced against his face. He sucks and lavs at your clit until you see stars. You could explode right then, but you want to see what else he will do, both fearing and longing for something to fill your aching insides.

You don’t have to wait long for your fantasy to come true. One finger thrusts into you, and you tremble, thinking that sharp tip must surely do damage, but he somehow manages the task, penetrating the muscular tunnel and curling around the spongey, sensitive tissue nestled near the front of your body. You reach for the replicant, your fingers knotting in his hair, grinding yourself against his mouth, against the pair of fingers that now corkscrew and spread and curl inside of you. His tongue joins in, stretching past those digits and exploring even further. It aches in the most delicious way, the feel of that wet, foreign intruder wriggling and stroking, marking the path that his cock will follow later. You can’t hold back any more, climaxing over everything the doppel has thrust inside, your entire body tremoring violently as you cry out and toss your head from side to side. He doesn’t stop, even after you’ve relaxed your grip in his hair and your body has gone limp and soft. The obscene slurping continues, your oversensitized clit twitching as you beg him for mercy.

At last the doppelganger grants you a reprieve, climbing back over your body, his mouth on yours again. You know what you taste like already, having sampled it before during self pleasure sessions, but it’s even stronger tonight, so deeply saturated on the mimic’s lips and tongue and even his chin, he’s drenched in your fluids and saliva and you lap it up greedily.

“You are the best thing I’ve ever tasted,” he murmurs, his breath warm over your lips. “I could eat you out for hours.”

Even as intense as the orgasm you'd just enjoyed had been, you can’t deny there’s a little thrilling heated tingle in your core at this declaration. You have no doubt he could. Would. An entire day and night spent in bed, with him just ravaging your pussy with his mouth.

In a different timeline, of course; you can’t indulge in that idea now. There is still the case to be solved. You may be allowing yourself to be distracted by carnal desires at the moment, but the impending sense of time slipping out of your grasp has not abandoned you.

Francis’ doppel notices the change in your expression, the solemnity washing over your features. “You’re thinking about the case.”

“I can’t help it. I’m sorry.” You thread your fingers through his tousled hair and stroke his cheek. “It doesn’t mean I’m not enjoying this. That I don’t want to continue.”

“I have no intentions of stopping just yet. Not when that delicious pussy is begging for my cock,” he adds, nuzzling the side of your neck. “I’m going to fuck you hard, honey. Going to stretch you and fill you to the brim. You ready for it?”

Your breath shudders. “Yes.”

“Good girl.” Normally you’d balk at praise like that, but coming from his lips it makes you melt. He shifts positions, leaning back onto his knees, looping his hands around your thighs and tugging you closer. His gaze never leaves yours as one hand manipulates his erection up and down your slick sex, paying special attention to your still recovering clit before it presses against your entrance. He pushes, leans, and the air leaves your chest in a rush as he begins penetrating you.

“Oh, fuck,” you curse. Still more than you’d anticipated. Still unprepared for this sensation, even with the use of his tongue and fingers to pave the way. Burning. Speared fleshed stretched taut to accommodate his prick. Like being a virgin all over again, your body violated, reshaped, remade.

Your eyes flutter closed and you bite your bottom lip. He’s barely begun, still easing into you gently. You find yourself conflicted between wanting him to be buried to the hilt in one go, like ripping a bandaid off, and taking his time, letting you get accustomed to his length and girth.

“Look at me,” he says, and your eyes snap back open obediently, watching this creature that is now straddling the line between man and doppelganger, a little of both presented to you. He shoves in a couple of inches and you visibly tense, making him rest a hand along the side of your waist, thumb stroking small circles of encouragement. Despite his promise to fuck you hard, he’s being surprisingly tender and patient.

“Francis,” you whisper, letting your hand slide over his.

He huffs a little sound of pleasure at your caress, body leaning forward, the momentum burying him further inside of you. He lets his weight drop his hips down, his cock now finally sunk fully inside, his face greeting yours with a sloppy kiss.

“Oh, sweet girl. You’re so tight around me. Doing so well taking me.” His pelvis arches and then slams forward, knocking the air free from your chest again. “So brave. Letting me eat you. Letting me fuck you.” Another repeat thrust and withdraw, followed by another, the pauses in between shorter. The introductory period is clearly over. He nips at your shoulder, still not breaking the skin, but you’re beginning to wonder if he won’t do so inadvertently in the throes of passion. How much control did he actually have over his true form?

“Does it feel good?”

“It’s…hnnngh…” You’ve been rendered incapable of proper speech. It aches. Every part of you throbs. Sore, but also pleasurable. When you’ve recovered enough of your senses your body rocks to meet him, driving you further and further away from the discomfort and into something sublime.

“You’re mine, now. I’ll never let another man touch you. Another doppel. No one will ever have this. You’re mine,” he repeats, his voice sultry, lust and pleasure blanketing each word. The mattress creaks, the headboard sent against the wall—there goes my security deposit, you think wryly—and the lewd slap of damp flesh meeting serenades you. You rake a hand down his spine, halting when you reach the slight swell of one buttocks cheek, kneading the flesh. He growls, hips slapping harder, his mouth sucking along your collarbone. You know for certain this will leave a mark, the skin burning when he draws it away from the bone and against his tongue. At least he’s chosen somewhere you can conceal with your clothing.

You’d only intended to rest your hand in a similar location on his body, but the replicant surprises you when he shifts it from the strip of bone connecting his shoulder to the base of his throat, his hand squeezing your fingers, indicating what he wants. You’ve never attempted breathplay; you’ve always been pretty vanilla when it came to sex. But the doppel clearly had all sorts of kinks, and you think this is just one of many on a long list of depravity. Still shy, your first attempt is soft, and he growls disapprovingly, flexing again over your fingers until you comply, pressing against muscle and tendon and cartilage and his eyes roll back.

You can feel him try to swallow, hear the narrow wheeze of air before you relax your grip. He clutches your wrist before you can move it away, that impossibly long tongue stroking against the inside of your wrist. “I want to cum in you.”

You’re not on birth control; don’t even know if pregnancy is a worry with the mimics. Was it biologically possible? You’d just finished your period a few days ago so the chances that you’re ovulating again this soon aren’t likely, but fuck, why is it so stimulating to consider the idea of him filling you up, impregnating you, just imagine the scandal of that, a human and a doppel successfully mating…

“Do it,” you say out loud, granting permission.

“Yeah? You want it, sweetheart? Want me to fill you up, breed you…?”

“Fuck, Francis, yes.”

He hums approvingly, gifting one last kiss to your wrist before pummeling into you with renewed vigor. The dirty talk seems to have reset your release, and you feel another building.

“That’s it, good girl. Cum on my cock.”

“Francis, I’m going to…fuck…” Your back arches and you feel the wave of your orgasm crash against you. Your body spasms, massaging and wringing the prick inside of you and it sends your partner over the edge. He moans—so loud, you love it, never a fan of the quiet ones, but still, the neighbors—and you feel the answering shudder as his body begins pumping ropes of sperm into you. It quickly becomes apparent how much there is, spilling back out as he withdraws, only to replace that sudden vacancy with his fingers again, fucking his cum back inside of you. He presses his thumb hard against your clit and your back arches again, surging violently against him in another wave of bliss.

You’re both panting when he finally removes his hand from your body, slumping beside you. You stare at the ceiling, wiping absently at the perspiration that dots your forehead. The air smells like sweat, like sex, a nearly palpable humid layer of fragrance.

“Fuck,” you mutter. “God damn.”

“I take that to mean you enjoyed it.” You let your head tip to regard the replicant. His features are completely human again. Normal eyes now, pupils blown, bordered with clear white. His teeth flat edged again, revealed in the little half grin he offers you.

“Fucking hell. As if you couldn’t tell.”

“Hmmm.” He reaches for one of your hands. The claws have vanished. “I was fairly impressive, wasn’t I?”

You gape at him, noticing the little smirk that’s developing anew, and you release his hand to shove at his shoulder, rolling over until your face hovers near his. “You…”

“Me…what?”

“Yeah, it was great.”

“Thought so.”

“Proud asshole. I’m going to have trouble walking.”

“Good.”

You playfully slap him again, fingers colliding with one pectoral muscle before you gentle that touch, guiding it up to his jaw.

He covers your hand with his, regarding you with those sleepy eyes, and you feel something lurch in your chest.

“Francis…”

“You know we’d get more accomplished if we got an earlier start in the morning. If I spent the night it would save us some valuable time.”

“You’re inviting yourself to sleep here?”

“No. I’m asking you.”

“We wouldn’t sleep. Then we’d be too tired to wake up in the morning, undermining the entire process.”

“I’ll behave,” he promises with a soft smile. “I won’t even lay a hand on you. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“You’ll do no such thing. If you’re staying here, you’re going to be in my bed.” You sigh. “You really think you’ll sleep?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t think I will,” you concede.

“Am I that irresistible, then? This doppel that you claimed to hate?”

“I told you, I don’t hate you. I didn’t mean it.”

He nods. “Don’t say it again. I don’t like you lying to me.” His eyes flash and his grip on your hand tightens. “I did mean what I said before. You’re mine, now. I won’t let anyone else have you. You understand?”

A little nervous flutter makes your stomach quiver as you nod.

“Say it.”

“I’m…I’m yours now.”

“Good girl.” He relaxes his grip and lets his head loll back to the center.

You’re still not sure how you feel about this new habit of praise he’s adopted. During intimacy was one thing, but outside of it? Your natural instinct to dominate was bristling right now, objecting to being quashed down.

”I can hear those mental gears turning from here. You practically have steam coming out of your ears,” he teases, his eyes on your face once again. “Come on, out with it then.”

”It’s…I’m not sure how I feel about this ‘good girl’ stuff.”

”Ah. I thought it might be that. I think you secretly enjoy it. I wouldn’t do it out in public, of course. That’s just between us in private like this. And no, it doesn’t mean that I think I’m superior to you. You don’t need to feel threatened. It’s more like…affectionate, I suppose. Like a pet name.”

”I guess.” You mull this over. “I don’t know what to call you, though. Like I can’t see calling you babe or honey or…I don’t know. I don’t know why I’m so focused on this. It’s foolish, really.”

”I like when you call me Francis,” he says quietly.

”But that’s not really who you are,” you murmur.

”It’s who I am now.”

You swallow thickly, nodding. “Okay, Francis.”

The doppel heaves a contented sigh and stretches his arms. “Well, now that that’s been addressed, we should have dinner and discuss strategy for tomorrow. What do you think?”

“Yes. I’m starving,” you admit. You always got ravenous after a really good climax. “What did you have in mind? I picked last time, so I guess it’s your decision to make now.”

“How about pizza?

“Oh, that sounds good. With extra cheese. You don’t like gross toppings like anchovies, do you?”

“Don’t know. I’ve never tried them. We can get whatever you want.”

“Alright. The place on West Ninth delivers now, I’ve heard. We don’t even have to leave the apartment. We can have them bring soda, too.”

“Convenient.” His face turns to you again. “Do we have time for a shower, first?”

“Yeah, I think we can squeak that in after we order. But we’re just bathing,” you remind him. “No funny business.”

He adopts a mock hurt tone. “You really have no faith in me. I can be a gentleman when it’s required.”

“I think I like it better when you’re not,” you murmur, leaning over to place a kiss on his shoulder.

“Now see that is exactly what got you into this mess in the first place. Tempting me. Challenging me. Wasn’t it nice just to let yourself go for once? Let someone else be in charge?”

“Careful. That sounds awfully similar to the toxic masculinity bullshit I keep encountering at work.”

“Nothing like it.” He shifts positions, moving until you’re beneath him again, his hands lightly bracing your wrists. “I know what you need. Let me give it to you. It’s not about your career. It doesn’t extend beyond these walls. It’s just for us. It’s okay to surrender, sometimes.”

“When do I get my turn to be on top?”

He smirks. “Whenever you want, sweetheart. I’m more than happy to oblige. You can ride me—”

“—That’s not what I meant,” you interrupt hastily. “It can’t always be you being so possessive and domineering. It’s only fair that I have a chance to exert some of that, too.”

His features grown solemn. “I know. There are so many things we can explore together. So much pleasure we can share,” he murmurs, abandoning one wrist so he can graze his fingertips along your bruised collarbone, then stroking along the notch at the base of his own throat. “It’s not completely black and white, not all one way or the other. Compromises must be met. Here. Even back out there,” he nods towards an imaginary target to indicate the world beyond your residence. “I think you’ll find that if you loosen the reins a bit, people will be more cooperative with you. You won’t lose respect. You won’t be looked down upon. You’ll just level some of the imbalances out. I know your past experiences have colored your outlook. I know it’s hard to let those walls you’ve built up around you lower. I’m not asking you to destroy them completely. Just let people see what’s behind those boundaries sometimes.” He kisses your mouth gently.

“What happens to us when the case is closed and we’re not working together anymore?”

“We might be asked to team up again. But even if we aren’t, this doesn’t have to end. There can still be an ‘us’,” he says.

“I’m a little overwhelmed here,” you confess.

He nods. “Frightened?”

“Yes, that too.”

“Do you think I’ll harm you?”

“Not intentionally. Maybe not even physically by mistake. But in other ways…I don’t want to get hurt again. There’s a reason I’m single. Why I’m so defensive. A hardass, like you say. The reason I have those walls you described in place. It isn’t just about my career, about being a woman in a man’s world. I don’t want to ever let anyone hurt me like that again,” you finish in a whisper.

“I have no desire to see you hurt that way, either.” He combs his fingers through your hair.

“It’s a bad idea, Francis. Not just the sex. Being…emotionally involved. It compromises judgment. It can be costly at precisely the wrong moment.”

“I’m fully committed to this case. You know that. You are, too. I don’t see it as an issue.”

“But what if something happens? What if the suspect threatens me? Will you be able to stay calm? Not do anything brash?”

Francis’ clone remains silent, his lips pressing into a thin line at the thought of that scenario, his hand stilling, buried in your scalp.

“That’s what I’m talking about. The more time we spend together like this, the harder it’s going to get.”

“I won’t fail. Not the case. Not you,” he adds, caressing your cheek. “You have my word.”

#francis mosses x reader #francis mosses x you #thats not my neighbor #francis mosses #that’s not my neighbor #milkman x reader #milkman x you #the milkman #tnmn francis mosses #doppel francis #tnmn smut #francis tnmn #francis mosses tnmn #doppelganger francis mosses

173 notes · View notes

butterfly-lies-chase-them-away · 6 months

Text

Behind the Mask - Jonathan Crane x Fem!Reader (ONESHOT)

Pairing: Jonathan Crane x Fem!Reader Scarecrow x Batgirl!Reader Word Count: 15079

Warnings: Enemies to Lovers, fear toxin, Scarecrow x Batgirl

Summary: (REQUEST) While chasing down the Scarecrow in Gotham, Y/n forms an unexpected bond with the mysterious figure. As their relationship deepens, Y/n finds herself navigating the blurred boundaries between friend and foe.

A/N: I got a request for Scarecrow x Batgirl!reader with enemies to lovers and I fucking JUMPED at this one, I did not mean to write this much, holy shit. I didn't really have a plan going into this one, so when I started writing, I was going from top to bottom, so whatever happened happened and I clearly went OFF! While writing this, I kinda had comic-book!Scarecrow in my brain for reasons I couldn't explain, but ya know... it's the same dude so yeah. I really hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it 💚

"I'll need you to be on watch in the Narrows tonight," Bruce instructed Y/n as he fastened his suit, his tone carrying the weight of his responsibilities.

"Any you want me to keep an eye one in particular?" Y/n asked, adjusting her own suit in preparation.

"Many, but the Scarecrow’s been more active recently, I want you to look out for him, I have the Joker to deal with." Bruce replied, his gaze distant as he mentally prepared for the night's challenges.

It had been a a few months since Y/n first became the Batgirl. Y/n often found herself in the wrong place at the wrong time, or perhaps it was the right place at the right time, depending on how one looked at it. As a bystander in Gotham City, she frequently stumbled upon scenes of crime and chaos, unwittingly becoming entangled in the city's never-ending struggle for order.

On one occasion, while walking home from work, Y/n witnessed a mugging in progress. Without hesitation, she sprang into action, using her self-defense skills to fend off the assailant and protect the victim. Little did she know, Batman had been monitoring the situation from the shadows, impressed by her bravery and resourcefulness.

This became a regular occurrence for Y/n after that, seeking out injustice in the city and protecting those in need. With each encounter, Y/n found herself drawn further into Batman's world, her actions catching his attention time and time again, forging an unexpected bond between herself and the Dark Knight.

Under Batman's guidance, Y/n evolved from a mere bystander into Batgirl, a symbol of hope and strength for the citizens of Gotham. With her skills and determination, she stood shoulder to shoulder with the Caped Crusader, ready to confront the darkness that threatened to consume their city.

The two of them went their separate ways, Y/n finding herself in the Narrows, poached on a building. And as if on cue, she heard screams coming from an alley. Immediately jumping into action, Y/n dropped down and rushed to the scene, and just as she expect, the man with a burlap mask stood over a helpless person, screaming and scratching on the floor.

"Refining your toxins, Scarecrow?" Y/n's voice echoed down the dimly lit alley, drawing his attention like a moth to a flame.

"Alone in the shadows, Batgirl?" Scarecrow's distorted voice floated back, his eerie presence sending shivers down Y/n's spine.

Without hesitation, Y/n surged forward, her determination driving her towards the looming figure of Scarecrow. Scarecrow's agility was surprising, a testament to his cunning and prowess.

Despite his speed, Y/n's athletic skills allowed her to gain ground. With a swift motion, she held out a Batarang, sending it spinning towards Scarecrow's feet. The makeshift trap worked like a charm, causing him to stumble and crash to the ground.

"Lost your footing?" Y/n taunted, her voice laced with determination.

"Lost your vision?" Scarecrow retorted, his words accompanied by a sudden burst of suspicious powder that engulfed Y/n's senses.

Coughing and disoriented, she struggled to maintain her balance as her surroundings blurred into a hazy fog.

In the midst of the chaos, Scarecrow seized the opportunity to strike, delivering a well-aimed kick that sent Y/n tumbling to the ground. With a pained groan, she collided with the unforgiving pavement, the impact jarring her senses and rattling her confidence.

As Scarecrow's footsteps faded into the distance, leaving behind only the distant echoes of the Narrows, Y/n cursed her carelessness. Still reeling from the encounter, she struggled to regain her bearings, her vision still clouded and her body aching from the fall.

"This better not be permanent," Y/n muttered under her breath, frustration evident in her voice as she struggled to regain her footing amidst the haze of her blurry vision.

With the aid of the wall for support, Y/n navigated her way out of the Narrows, determination guiding her steps despite her impaired sight. Fumbling for her walkie-talkie, she summoned Batman, her admission tinged with a hint of embarrassment.

"Hey, uh... Could you bring the Batmobile? I can't see," Y/n confessed, her tone a clear indication of her frustration.

"On my way," Batman's reassuring voice crackled through the device.

As she waited at the end of the alleyway, the familiar roar of the Batmobile's engine signaled Batman's arrival. He lifted the roof of the vehicle, his presence a comforting presence in the midst of Y/n's uncertainty.

"You getting in?" Batman's usual impatience brought a hint of levity to the situation, his words a welcome distraction from Y/n's predicament.

"Yeah, could you help me? I can't see properly," Y/n admitted, her voice tinged with embarrassment. "It's all just a black blob."

Without hesitation, Batman leaped out of the car, his strong hand reaching out to guide Y/n safely into the vehicle. As they embarked on their journey through the city's shadowy streets, Y/n couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the steadfast ally by her side.

"Rough night?" Batman's gravelly voice broke the silence, cutting through the tension that hung in the air.

"You could say that," Y/n replied, her tone heavy with disappointment as she settled into the seat beside him. "Will my vision be like this permanently?" Y/n asked, the question bugging her for the last 10 minutes.

"Hard to tell with the Scarecrow, but you should be okay. It's a surprise he didn't use his fear toxin on you," Batman remarked, his voice betraying a hint of concern.

Y/n let out a sigh of resignation, her shoulders slumping as she leaned back against the seat. In the darkness of the Batmobile, surrounded by the faint hum of the engine and the steady rhythm of the city outside, she couldn't help but feel a sense of vulnerability. But even in her moment of uncertainty, she found solace in the presence of the silent guardian beside her, a reminder that she was never truly alone in the shadows of Gotham.

Fortunately for Y/n, her vision returned within an hour, relieving her of the temporary blindness. Despite Bruce's insistence that she call it a night and rest up, Y/n's determination to uncover more about their adversary remained unyielding. In the depths of the Batcave, she was immersed in her research, combing through databases and news articles in search of a lead.

"Thought you'd be down here, Master Bruce holding you back?" Alfred's familiar voice echoed through the cavernous space as he descended into the Batcave.

"No, I was supposed to head home an hour ago," Y/n admitted, her attention still fixed on the glowing screen before her.

"Well, shall I fetch you some supper then?" Alfred offered, ever the attentive caretaker.

"It's alright, Alfred. Thank you," Y/n replied, offering a grateful smile in his direction.

As Alfred approached, he cast a glance at the screen, taking note of Y/n's diligent research and the meticulous notes scattered around her workspace.

"My, you've certainly done quite the thorough job. It's no wonder you landed that internship," Alfred remarked, his tone filled with pride.

"You and I both know I only got that internship at Arkham because of Bruce's influence," Y/n laughed.

"You ought to give yourself more credit, Miss L/n," Alfred's voice held a gentle admonishment as he glanced over Y/n's work. "When is your first day, anyway?"

Glancing at the clock, Y/n realized it was already 1 AM. "Tomorrow," she answered.

"I beg of you to go home, Miss L/n. Your sleep schedule is bad enough as it is," Alfred urged, concern etched in his voice.

Y/n let out a weary sigh. "I guess I'll have to leave the Scarecrow for another time."

Y/n and Alfred made their way back up to Wayne Manor, Y/n gathering her belongings in preparation to depart. Despite her reluctance to leave her research behind, she knew that rest was necessary if she wanted to be at her best for the challenges that lay ahead. With one last glance at the Batcomputer, Y/n bid farewell to the Batcave, her mind already turning towards the mysteries that awaited her on her first day at Arkham.

Y/n's first day at Arkham Asylum began with a mix of anticipation and nervous energy. The towering, foreboding structure of the institution loomed against the gray skies of Gotham, its reputation preceding it.

Working at Arkham Asylum had always been a dream for Y/n, fueled by a deep fascination with the psychology of criminals. And there was no better place than Arkham. She was aware that Bruce had played a pivotal role in securing this internship for her, primarily to make it easier to access the criminals and their files. Yet, this knowledge did little to dampen her enthusiasm. In fact, she saw it as practical to use her role for the greater good, combining her academic interests with her goal to protect Gotham.

As she stepped through the heavy, security-laden doors, she was greeted by Dr. Penelope Young, one of Arkham's leading psychiatrists and her supervisor for the duration of the internship.

"Welcome to Arkham Asylum, Miss L/n. I'm Dr. Young. I'll be showing you around today and discussing what you can expect during your time here," Dr. Young said, offering a firm handshake that Y/n returned.

Their tour began in the more benign corridors of the asylum, where Dr. Young outlined the history of Arkham, its purpose, and its challenges. She spoke with a passion that contrasted the grim surroundings, her belief in rehabilitation and understanding of the human psyche evident in her every word.

"As you'll soon learn, Arkham is more than just a holding facility for Gotham's criminally insane. It's a place of complexity, where psychology and security intersect in ways you won't see anywhere else," Dr. Young explained as they navigated through secure checkpoints.

The tour included visits to various departments, including the high-security wards where Gotham's most notorious villains were held. Dr. Young's explanations were thorough, covering the protocols for dealing with dangerous inmates, the importance of mental health assessments, and the ongoing research aimed at better understanding and treating profound psychological disorders.

"Your role here, Miss L/n, will involve assisting with patient assessments, participating in therapy sessions, and contributing to our research projects. It's crucial work that not only helps us understand the minds of those we're treating but also aids in ensuring the safety of Gotham City," Dr. Young said, her tone serious yet encouraging.

As they concluded the tour in the library, filled with texts on psychology, criminology, and the history of Arkham itself, Dr. Young offered some final advice.

"Always remember, the work we do here is challenging and often thankless. But it's also incredibly important. You're going to see and experience things that will test you, but I believe you have the potential to make a real difference."

Y/n left the tour feeling a mixture of awe and trepidation. The weight of her responsibilities at Arkham Asylum was now fully realized, but so too was her determination to meet the challenges head-on. As she prepared for her first assignment, she couldn't help but feel that her journey into the heart of Gotham's darkness was only just beginning.

Patrolling the rooftops alongside Batman had become a familiar part of Y/n's night life, yet that particular night, her performance was far from her usual standard. Missteps, a lack of balance, and a series of other minor blunders affected her efforts. Aware of Bruce's patience, she nonetheless couldn't shake off the feeling that she was more of a liability than an asset to Batman during their late-night surveillance.

"Fuck, sorry," Y/n muttered, hastily picking herself up after her foot caught on an uneven crack on a rooftop in the Narrows.

Batman halted his advance, turning to face her with a concern that seemed to pierce through the shadows of his cowl. "You should head home, you need rest," he suggested.

Y/n's gaze dropped, a wave of embarrassment washing over her. She knew he was right, yet admitting it felt like conceding to a weakness she couldn't afford.

"You're exhausted. It's been a long day," Batman tried to reassure her, recognizing the toll the day's events had taken on her.

"I know, but I feel like I need to be here," Y/n insisted, her voice a mix of determination and frustration.

"Is this about the Scarecrow again?" Batman's question cut through the tension, his insight honing in on the heart of her persistence.

"...Yeah," Y/n admitted, a mix of resolve and vulnerability in her voice.

Her obsession with stopping Scarecrow had pushed her to her limits, yet she felt an unyielding need to confront the fear he spread across Gotham. In that moment, beneath the expanse of the night sky, her dedication to their cause was as clear as the weariness she fought against.

The Scarecrow was Y/n's first real challenge with one of Gotham's notorious Rogue's. Until now, her experiences had primarily involved run-ins with lesser-known criminals. Unmasking the Scarecrow, whose identity remained a mystery to all of Gotham, would be a monumental achievement for her.

"Why don't you hang back a bit? You can stay on the scene, but I'd rather you not engage in anything major," Batman suggested, his voice carrying a note of protective caution.

Y/n nodded in agreement. She decided to approach the situation with caution, opting for observation over direct confrontation. From her vantage point on a nearby rooftop, she kept a vigilant eye on the Narrows, tracking Batman's movements as he patrolled the shadowy labyrinth below. That's when she spotted him.

Quickly, she grabbed her radio to alert Batman. "Scarecrow spotted near the north apartments!" she reported, urgency lacing her voice.

As Batman sprang into action, heading towards the reported location, Y/n felt a surge of determination. She knew she couldn't just stand by. Moving with purpose, she leaped across rooftops, her movements a blend of precision and grace, as she closed in on the two. Her heart raced with a mix of excitement and fear, fully aware of the dangers that lay ahead yet driven by a deep-seated resolve to make a difference.

His pursuit was relentless, a testament to years of honing his skills for moments just like this. The Scarecrow, a master of terror and manipulation, darted ahead, his movements erratic and desperate, aware that the Dark Knight was closing in on him.

The Scarecrow, realizing the inevitability of his capture, turned to face Batman, a sinister smile playing across his lips, hidden beneath the grotesque mask that had become his signature.

In a swift movement, Scarecrow pulled from his tattered coat a small canister, unleashing a cloud of his fear toxin directly at Batman. The gas, a potent concoction of Scarecrow's own design, filled the air, a visible miasma of terror.

Batman, caught off-guard by the sudden assault, attempted to evade the cloud but inhaled a breath of the toxic fumes. The world around him twisted horrifyingly, his vision blurring as the gas took hold, plunging him into a nightmarish landscape of his own fears. Towering figures of his past adversaries loomed over him, their taunts echoing in his ears, while the loss of his parents replayed in agonizing detail, a never-ending cycle of pain and guilt.

Y/n's heart skipped a beat at the sight of Batman collapsing, overcome by the Scarecrow's fear toxin. Without hesitation, she reached out to Alfred through her radio.

"It's urgent. Batman's been incapacitated by Scarecrow's fear gas. You need to get him immediately," she relayed with urgency.

Without waiting for Alfred's confirmation, she sprung into action, her body moving almost on instinct. She descended from her vantage point into the alleyway below, her cape billowing behind her as she set her sights on the retreating figure of the Scarecrow.

"You just can't let it go, can you?" Scarecrow taunted, turning to hurl a canister of his sinister concoction in her direction.

The moment the toxin enveloped her, Y/n's reality twisted into a nightmarish tableau. She fell to the ground, a scream tearing from her lips as the shadows around her seemed to swell with judgment and scorn. But this was different, alongside the overwhelming fear, a heavy drowsiness dragged at her consciousness.

This was no ordinary fear toxin, she realized with a struggle to maintain her awareness. Her breaths came in labored gasps, each one a battle against the encroaching darkness. Her strength ebbed away, leaving her helpless on the cold, unforgiving ground of the alley. Her vision blurred, yet she could make out the Scarecrow's figure looming over her, his mask a grotesque visage that pulsated in her dimming sight.

As her field of view narrowed to a point, she saw Scarecrow bend down beside her, his hands reaching out to grasp her. Then, as if a curtain had fallen over her world, everything succumbed to darkness.

The throbbing in her head was the first sensation that pierced through the fog of unconsciousness, a relentless pounding that seemed to echo through her entire being. Gritting her teeth in discomfort, Y/n reached up, her fingers pressing into her temples in a futile attempt to sooth the pain. With her eyes still firmly shut, she sat up from the surface beneath her.

As she became more aware, her palm registered the unmistakable chill of metal against her skin. Hesitantly, she allowed her eyelids to part, squinting against the dim light that filled her unfamiliar surroundings. This place, cold, sterile, and decidedly unwelcoming, was far from the familiar confines of her home or the Batcave. Panic fluttered in her chest as the realization set in.

She found herself lying on a stark, metallic table, the centerpiece of what appeared to be a neglected laboratory. The air was thick with the scent of chemicals and decay, a testament to the room's dubious purposes. With a growing sense of dread, Y/n ran a hand through her hair, her movements halting as another alarming detail dawned on her, her mask was missing.

She took a sharp intake of breath as she frantically searched her surroundings, her heart racing. Though still clad in the protective gear of Batgirl, minus her utility belt, the absence of her mask left her exposed, vulnerable.

The sound of the door creaking open sent a jolt of adrenaline through her. She became tense, preparing for who might come through that door, her mind racing through possibilities and plans of escape.

As the door swung open, the Scarecrow stepped through, his presence immediately filling the room with a palpable sense of dread. His iconic, scratchy burlap mask seemed to leer at her, the tattered edges of his suit fluttering slightly with his movements. Y/n's heart sank, deep down, she'd known he would be her captor.

The realization of her vulnerability flashed through her mind, sparking a defiant glare, even as she attempted to shield her identity by casting her gaze downward.

"You needn't bother trying to hide now," Scarecrow's voice cut through the tense air, a smirk audible in his tone as he closed the distance between them. "I've seen all I need to see."

Acknowledging that hiding was no longer an option, Y/n understood that resistance might still sway the balance in her favor. With a burst of energy, she attempted to launch herself off the table, only to crumble to the ground, her legs betraying her strength.

"Easy, you've only just regained consciousness," Scarecrow taunted, his steps hastening towards her prone form.

In her struggle to stand back up, Scarecrow's hands suddenly steadied her, pulling her up with a firm grip on her arm. Yet, even in this vulnerable state, Y/n's resolve didn't falter. Her hand darted out, seizing a scalpel from a nearby table, and she held it towards Scarecrow, who instinctively raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. The air between them crackled with tension, each poised for the other's next move.

Scarecrow's voice was calm, yet firm. "You're hardly in a position to resist effectively. Let me help you back onto the table before you injure yourself further. The scalpel isn't necessary," he advised, his tone bordering on reasonable.

Y/n couldn’t help but notice how professionally he spoke.

"So you can subject me to more of your experiments? Yeah nah," she laughed, sarcastically.

Scarecrow, unfazed by her resistance, replied with a hint of a threat, "Whether you agree or not, you're in no condition to stand. It's only a matter of time before you collapse again."

She knew he was right. She could barely feel her legs, and the bits of sensation she did have was undeniable pain. With a reluctant sigh, Y/n let the scalpel clatter back onto the table.

Seeing her give in, Scarecrow lowered his hands and gently supported her around her waist, guiding her with a care that contrasted with his usual menace. He lifted her effortlessly, placing her back on the medical table with a carefulness that seemed out of character. Her legs dangled off the side, the height of the table leaving her feet dangling in the air, a subtle reminder of her current vulnerability.

"Why am I here?" Y/n demanded.

"Had I not intervened, you would be dead," Scarecrow replied.

"So, you hit me with your gas for shits and giggles? Or am I just another subject for your midnight experiments?" Y/n's tone was laced with anger.

"I never intended to expose you to the gas," Scarecrow clarified, moving to grab an item from a nearby table.

"And what? Your hand just slipped?" Y/n retaliated with sarcasm.

"I thought you were the Batman," Scarecrow confessed as he returned to her side.

"And how does that change anything?" Y/n challenged.

Ignoring her, he held a cup, what appeared to be cloudy water. Scarecrow pressed the cup into her hand.

"What's this?" Y/n asked, raising her brow.

"For your headache and numbed legs," Scarecrow responded.

Y/n eyed the cup warily, her skepticism evident. Scarecrow sighed, his voice distorted by his mask.

"If I intended harm, it would have been done already," he assured her.

"Then answer my question," Y/n pressed.

"What question?" Scarecrow responded quickly, playing the fool.

Y/n rolled her eyes. "Why does it matter that you gassed me if I work with Batman?"

Scarecrow remained silent, his gaze fixed on her. She returned his stare, peering into the depths of his blue eyes, an aspect she'd never noticed before, having never been this close to him without a fight.

"Why don’t you want to hurt me?" Y/n rephrased her question.

"Because I don’t want to," he replied simply.

Y/n's shoulders sagged in defeat as she took a sip from the cup, relieved to find it tasted just like water.

"What's your name?" Scarecrow's question caught her off guard.

Y/n shot him a judging glance. "Seriously? Are you dumb? Or do you think I am?"

Scarecrow chuckled, the sound crackled by his mask. "Your face isn't much of a secret now," he remarked.

"True, but a name would give away too much, wouldn't it? Besides, I doubt you'd share yours even if I asked," Y/n countered.

"Fair enough. Batgirl it remains," Scarecrow said.

Concern creased Y/n's brow as she broached the subject weighing on her mind. "So, what's your plan for me now?"

"You're not in any shape to leave just yet," Scarecrow observed.

"Okay, but when I am?" Y/n pressed.

Scarecrow hesitated. "I can't say for certain when that'll be," he admitted.

"You're the reason I'm drugged up…it was your toxin," Y/n pointed out.

"I didn't anticipate having to save anyone after using the gas," Scarecrow replied, his gaze drifting away.

Y/n sensed there was more to his reluctance than he let on. "Why won't you let me go?" she demanded.

"I told you—" Scarecrow began, but Y/n interjected firmly, "I want the real reason."

Scarecrow settled into a chair at a nearby desk.

"Aw, is the Scarecrow feeling lonely?" Y/n teased, her tone light despite the tension in the air.

Though she couldn't discern his expression behind the mask, she could practically feel the weight of his glare.

"Hey, if you keep up with that attitude, I might just have to pay you a visit in the Narrows," Y/n teased further, her words laden with playful defiance.

Y/n couldn't shake the uncertainty creeping into her mind. Was she really entertaining him with her banter?

"I suppose I'll have to hold you to that," Scarecrow retorted, his tone tinged with a hint of amusement.

Y/n couldn't believe what she was hearing. Did he actually want her to visit?

"...Batman must be worried about me," Y/n spoke aloud.

"You'd be correct. He's been searching the Narrows looking for you," Scarecrow confirmed.

She's now aware of their whereabouts. Somewhere in the Narrows, not entirely helpful, but better than nothing.

Relief washed over Y/n. "So he's okay then?" she asked anxiously.

"I only administered a small dose. He's perfectly fine," Scarecrow reassured her.

"Can I leave in about 10 minutes?" Y/n requested.

Scarecrow sighed. "Yes, but let me perform one final check first," he insisted.

He approached her. "Can you stand?"

Y/n noticed a tingling sensation in her legs, a welcome sign of returning strength. She gingerly hopped off the metal table, feeling Scarecrow's supportive grip immediately. Taking a moment to steady herself with his assistance, she eventually managed to push him away gently.

"Considering how quickly Batman bounced back, I'm sure he'll be able to assist you if you encounter any further issues," Scarecrow remarked.

"So, can I go?" Y/n inquired.

"Yes, but you'll be blindfolded," Scarecrow detailed.

Y/n watched as Scarecrow grabbed an unexpected item from his coat, her mask which she had completely forgotten about. She accepted it, placing it securely back on her face. Following this, he produced a blindfold, carefully tying it around her eyes.

"What about my utility belt?" she questioned.

"It's been left in the alley. I expect Batman has already located it with the tracker," Scarecrow informed her.

It made sense, had the belt been here, Batman would have pinpointed her location instantly due to its tracking device.

"Give me your hand," Scarecrow said.

Y/n reached out, feeling Scarecrow's grip. His hand was bare, contrasting with her gloved one, allowing her to feel the unique texture of his skin. Together, they navigated towards what Y/n presumed was the exit.

"Mind your step," Scarecrow instructed.

With extra caution, Y/n raised her foot higher than usual, stepping over what she imagined was the door frame. The sound of metal underfoot suggested they had transitioned onto a metallic grate.

"Coming up to some stairs," Scarecrow said.

As Scarecrow slightly descended, he guided Y/n to the first step. Clutching Scarecrow's hand for support, her free hand found a handrail. They carefully descended the staircase together.

"Last step," Scarecrow informed her.

Her feet found solid concrete below. They continued their journey outside, Y/n blind to their surroundings. After about ten minutes wandering the Narrows in silence, Scarecrow halted.

"I'm going to spin you so you won't know which direction we came from," Scarecrow explained.

Y/n snorted, "Feels like a weird game," she joked.

Gently, Scarecrow placed his hands on her shoulders and started to spin her. Y/n laughed, her steps becoming unsteady as she spun. Once she was sufficiently dizzy, Scarecrow ceased the spinning.

"Can I take off the blindfold now?" Y/n asked.

Scarecrow loosened the knot, freeing her from the blindfold. Blinking against the light, she surveyed her surroundings, her balance off from the spinning.

"I have no idea where I am," she admitted, scanning the area.

"That was the point," Scarecrow replied.

A small smile formed on her lips. "Hey, thanks for not killing me," she uttered, a phrase she never imagined saying.

"I apoligize for using the gas on you," Scarecrow said.

"I appreciate the apology...So! See you around?" Y/n tilted her head, looking at him.

Scarecrow seemed taken aback. "You aren't planning to tackling me to the ground for Batman?"

She shook her head.

"Then, yes... until next time, Batgirl," Scarecrow affirmed.

With that, Y/n walked away, the sound of her footsteps echoing in the alley. Glancing back one last time, she found he had vanished into the shadows.

As Y/n made her way towards the mouth of the alley, a familiar figure emerged from the shadows with a swift, purposeful stride. The figure's imposing silhouette was unmistakable against the dimly lit street. Batman, cloaked in his iconic cape, his gaze fixed intently ahead.

He approached Y/n, his presence commanding yet reassuring. "Where have you been?" Batman's voice, deep and grave.

Although aggressive, she knew it was his way of showing his concern.

Y/n sighed. "I'm fine, thanks! But I wouldn’t have been if not for an unexpected turn of events," she responded, her voice a mix of relief and bewilderment.

Batman surveyed the surroundings with a beading eye, then returned his attention to Y/n. "Scarecrow?" he asked, already piecing together the encounter from the clues left behind.

"Yep," Y/n confirmed.

Batman summoned the Batmobile with a press of a button, and it swiftly glided around the corner, halting with precision in front of them. "We'll discuss it on the way," Batman suggested, sliding into the driver's seat of the Batmobile.

Y/n quickly followed, hopping into the passenger seat. The top sealed shut with a soft hiss, and they set off toward the Batcave, the engine's low rumble filling the air.

"As soon as you were hit with the toxin, I ran after Scarecrow. I know you said not to but I couldn't just stand by," Y/n recounted. "He hit me with some kind of super version of his toxin... I blacked out and later woke up in his lab... He had saved my life," she reflected, still piecing together the surreal events.

"Scarecrow...saved you...after he was the one to endanger you..." Batman's voice betrayed a hint of skepticism.

"Exactly... He said he mistook me for you and used a more lethal toxin," Y/n clarified.

Batman mulled over the information, "This must be part of some elaborate scheme."

"...When I was unconscious, he took off my mask," Y/n added quietly, the weight of her vulnerability in that moment hanging between them.

"We can't change what's happened," Batman responded with an unexpected calm. "For now, you need to stay at the batcave."

Y/n understood the protective gesture, Batman was ensuring her safety. This meant her encounters with Scarecrow would be on hold, a disappointing, yet perhaps for the best, turn of events.

Upon their arrival at the Batcave, Bruce insisted on conducting his own check up of Y/n to ensure her well-being. As he meticulously checked her condition, Y/n found her thoughts drifting back to Scarecrow.

The lanky figure behind the coarse, burlap mask now intrigued her more than ever. Despite her efforts to thwart his plans and her alliance with Batman, Scarecrow had spared her life. His actions defied the logic that he should have seen her as a direct threat, deserving of his lethal wrath.

Throughout their encounters, Scarecrow had consistently avoided using his fear toxin on her, opting for less harmful methods. And on the one occasion he did administer it, he promptly provided an antidote and went as far as looking after her back at his lab.

What puzzled her further was his reluctance, or perhaps refusal, to let her leave. There seemed to be an underlying reason he didn't want her to go, adding layers to his already complex persona. This unexpected mercy and the mystery shrouding his true intentions only deepened Y/n's curiosity about the man beneath the mask.

Y/n's second week interning at Arkham was unfolding better than she'd anticipated. Tasked with interacting with the less dangerous patients, she found them peculiar yet unexpectedly sweet, a stark contrast to her initial assumptions. Each person, in their own right, contributed to the unique tapestry of Arkham's inhabitants.

Walking through the asylum's corridors on her way to Dr. Young's office with a stack of files in hand, Y/n was absorbed in her thoughts, hardly aware of her surroundings. This lack of attention led to a collision with a passerby, resulting in her files scattering across the floor.

"Shit, sorry," she blurted out, immediately kneeling to gather the scattered documents.

The individual she bumped into stood frozen, offering no assistance or reaction. Once she collected her files and stood up to face him, she found herself looking at a tall, slender man adorned with rectangular, wire-framed glasses, his expression one of bafflement.

"Sorry, I wasn't paying attention," she said, hoping to break the ice.

Yet, the man remained silent, his eyes wide and mouth slightly open, offering nothing but a fixed stare. With an awkward smile, Y/n excused herself, moving past him to continue on her way.

"Sorry, again... Have a good day," she added, before turning her focus forward and spotting Dr. Young near her office.

"Met Dr. Crane, have you?" Dr. Young asked, observing the scene.

Glancing back, Y/n saw the man, now identified as Dr. Crane, retreating hastily down the hallway.

"Apparently. He a quiet one?" Y/n asked, intrigued by the unusual man.

"Not at all," Dr. Young confided with a hint of amusement. "He's known for being quite outspoken and, frankly, a bit abrasive. But let's keep that between us."

Y/n let out a soft chuckle, appreciating the candid insight. Together, they proceeded into Dr. Young's office. As they delved into their tasks and discussions, the brief encounter with Dr. Crane swiftly faded from Y/n's mind.

Barely two hours had passed, with Y/n engrossed in her task of organizing files, when Dr. Young re-entered the office, fresh from her break.

"It seems you've caught the attention of Dr. Crane," Dr. Young remarked as she stepped inside.

Y/n glanced up, puzzled. "Huh?"

Dr. Young, settling into her chair with a chuckle. "Well, in the cafeteria, Dr. Crane cam up to me out of the blue to ask about you. Considering he never engages in conversation unless it's strictly necessary, that was quite the surprise!"

Curiosity piqued, Y/n continued, "What exactly did he ask about?"

"Just your name and your role here," Dr. Young replied with a smile.

The thought of garnering anyone's interest, let alone Dr. Crane's, hadn't crossed Y/n's mind. Yet, she brushed it off, doubting it would have any significant impact on her internship.

Back at her home, Y/n found herself sprawled on her bed, engulfed in the unfamiliar territory of idleness. With Bruce sidelining her from night patrols, the once exhilarating darkness of Gotham's nights now stretched endlessly before her, filled with nothing but the quiet.

Letting out a sigh, she flung her book aside, a tangible sign of her growing restlessness. Reluctantly, she rose and drifted towards her computer, where the glow of her screen illuminated tabs of research left untouched since yesterday. Though the news articles of Scarecrow she had found offered little in the way of breakthroughs, she held onto the hope they might yet yield something of value.

It was then that a sudden thud against her window broke the silence, startling her. Turning to look, she expected to find nothing more unusual than a disoriented bird that flew into it. However, the repeated thudding suggested this was no ordinary accident.

With a sigh, Y/n approached the window to investigate. A crow was the culprit, determinedly striking the glass over and over. Attempting to shoo it away with a tap against the window proved futile, the bird was either stubborn or really dumb. About to turn away in defeat, Y/n noticed something clutched in the crow's beak, she naturally had to investigate.

Concerned it might be choking, she opened the window to offer assistance. The crow, uninvited, hopped boldly into her room and onto her bed.

"Hey! You’re gonna get my shit all dirty!" Y/n protested, trying to usher it off.

Yet the crow remained unbothered, stationed firmly on her bed. With a curious tilt of its head, it released its hold, letting the object, a piece of paper, fall onto her duvet.

Realizing the crow was unharmed, Y/n let out a sigh. "Okay, you can leave now," she suggested, gesturing towards the open window.

However, the crow remained stationary, its gaze fixed on her as if it had more to say. They stared at one another awkwardly, the air between them thick with uncertainty. The crow nudged the piece of paper with its beak, then lifted its eyes to hers, prompting her attention.

Reluctantly, Y/n shifted her focus to the paper, curiosity getting the better of her. The paper was torn and foled. She unfolded the ripped fragment to reveal a message that sent a jolt of shock through her.

'Found you.'

The simplicity of the message belied its ominous intent, transforming her initial confusion into a wave of dread. "Holy fuck," she muttered, her pulse quickening.

As if its mission was accomplished, the crow took its leave, soaring out the window. Y/n raced to the window, a futile attempt to keep it from leaving. "Oi!"

But her plea vanished into the night, leaving her to face the silence of her room. The solitude that had once been merely boring now felt ominously oppressive.

How had Scarecrow found her? The question echoed in her mind, a reminder that her sense of security was more fragile than she had ever imagined.

Y/n wasted no time in dialing Bruce's number, her fingers trembling with anxiety as she waited for him to pick up. When he finally answered, she didn't bother with pleasantries.

"He found me," she blurted out in a tense whisper.

"Y/n? What are you talk-?" Bruce paused. “How?”

"I don't know how he did it, Bruce. There's no way he could have tracked me from that night," Y/n replied, her nerves palpable. “He sent his fucking pet crow, or something to my window with a little note saying he found me.”

"I think it would be safest for you to stay at my place for a while," Bruce suggested, his tone urgent.

"Yeah, but what if he figures out… you know?" Y/n's worry crept into her voice.

"Is there anywhere else you can go?" Bruce asked, his concern evident.

Y/n's mind raced, but she couldn't think of any safe alternatives. "Not really," she admitted reluctantly.

"Okay, just stay safe. I'll be checking up on you," Bruce instructed firmly.

"I'll do my best," Y/n sighed, feeling a sense of dread settle over her as the call ended.

She dropped her phone on her bed along with herself. Sitting on her bed, she ran her hand down her face groaning. She just prayed he was as nice as he was the night before.

The next day, Y/n felt a sense of unease as she walked through the corridors of Arkham towards Dr. Young's office. Upon entering, she was met not only by Dr. Young, but also by the presence of Dr. Crane.

"Good morning, Y/n. I'm sure you're acquainted with Dr. Crane by now," Dr. Young gestured towards the man in the room.

Y/n nodded awkwardly, turning her attention to Dr. Crane. "Hello, Dr. Crane," she greeted, extending her hand for a shake.

"Miss L/n," he replied, his voice crisp and professional as he took her hand.

There was something strangely familiar about his touch, though Y/n couldn't quite place it. Brushing it off as mere coincidence, she focused on the conversation at hand.

"Well, we've decided to switch things up a bit and provide you with more opportunities around the asylum. Today, Dr. Crane has kindly offered to mentor you instead of me," Dr. Young explained.

Y/n nodded, trying to maintain her composure. "Oh... cool," she replied, though her uncertainty lingered beneath the surface.

"My work primarily focuses on the higher-risk patients, so today I'll be showing you around those areas of the asylum," Dr. Crane explained, his hands clasped behind his back.

"Alright, shall we get started?" Y/n asked, eager to begin.

"Certainly," Dr. Crane replied, opening the door for Y/n to exit first. She thanked him and stepped into the hallway, where Dr. Crane joined her.

"So, Miss L/n, what led you to Arkham?" Dr. Crane inquired, initiating conversation.

"Well, I studied at Gotham University for five years and managed to get an internship here. It's an opportunity I couldn't pass up," Y/n replied.

Dr. Crane nodded, showing interest. "You're interested in psychology, I assume?"

"Naturally," Y/n confirmed.

"And outside of Arkham, how do you spend your time?" Dr. Crane asked, delving deeper.

Y/n wasn't prepared for such a personal question, and she found herself struggling to formulate an answer. In truth, much of her time was split between intensive research and her activities as a vigilante. "Uh... research mostly," she replied, keeping her answer vague.

"Any specific areas of focus?" Dr. Crane probed further.

"Primarily psychology-related topics, and occasionally delving into articles about various personalities in Gotham," Y/n answered, trying to keep her response casual.

"Ah, the Gotham Rogues, I presume? Have any in particular piqued your interest?" Dr. Crane inquired, his gaze lingering on her as they made their way towards the elevator.

Y/n had been informed by Dr. Young that small talk was rarely on Dr. Crane's agenda, suggesting his continuous questions might stem from a lack of social que. Yet, as a psychiatrist, his understanding of social dynamics should be adept, making his approach puzzling.

"Ah, well... each of them are interesting in their own way, to say the least," Y/n replied, deflecting deflecting to keep the conversation neutral.

Acknowledging her response with a nod, Dr. Crane diverted his eyes ahead, the silence momentarily enveloping them as they approached and entered the elevator. With a practiced motion, he swiped his keycard and selected their destination floor.

The elevator began its descent in silence, the hum of its mechanism filling the small space. Dr. Crane stood with a composed posture, hands clasped behind his back, while Y/n could feel the tension in the air, an undercurrent of unspoken thoughts swirling between them.

After a moment, Dr. Crane broke the silence. "The study of fear is particularly fascinating, don't you think?" he started, his tone measured, eyes fixed on the elevator doors as if addressing the question to himself. "It's primal, yet so complex. A fundamental emotion that can be both a hindrance and a survival mechanism."

Y/n, caught off guard by the sudden shift in conversation, nodded in agreement. "Yes, it's quite a paradox. It shapes so much of human behavior, yet we understand so little about its underpinnings."

The elevator dinged, announcing their arrival at the high-risk patient floor. As the doors slid open, Dr. Crane stepped out, gesturing for Y/n to follow. "Indeed. And it's within these walls that fear becomes a canvas, each patient painting their own portrait of terror."

The topic of their conversation enveloped Y/n in a sense of unease. While it was natural for a psychiatrist to delve into subjects like fear, given her recent unsettling situation, discussing it now stirred an unwelcome and deep-seated discomfort within her.

They walked through a secured door after Dr. Crane keyed in a code, entering a corridor lined with reinforced glass cells. The patients inside varied in their reactions to the newcomers, some pressed close to observe them, others retreated into shadows, and a few remained indifferent, lost in their own worlds.

"As you'll see today, our approach to treatment varies greatly, tailored to each patient's specific needs and... inclinations," Dr. Crane continued, leading Y/n past the cells. "Observation and understanding is key. Fear can be both a lock and a key in our field."

Y/n felt a chill run down her spine, not just from the atmosphere of the high-risk ward but from Dr. Crane's words. They echoed with a depth of knowledge and an intensity that felt almost too personal, as if fear itself was a familiar friend to him.

As they continued their tour, Y/n couldn't shake the feeling that Dr. Crane was studying her just as much as he was explaining the procedures and philosophies of Arkham Asylum. There was a calculated curiosity in his gaze, a probing quality that made her wonder what he saw when he looked at her.

Their footsteps echoed softly as they walked through the corridor, eventually halting in front of a door.

"This," he announced, ushering the door open with a gentle push, "is my office."

Crossing into the new space, Y/n found herself standing somewhat awkwardly, uncertain of what was to come next.

"I have a few patient appointments scheduled today. You'll have the opportunity to observe. But first, there are some reports I need to deal with. I imagine you have tasks of your own to do in the meantime?" he suggested.

With a nod from Y/n, he settled into his chair behind the desk, drawing out several files and a pen. As he began to write, Y/n couldn't help but observe him, a sense of déjà vu washing over her. There was an inexplicable familiarity in his presence that she couldn't quite identify.

Catching her gaze, he looked up, peering over his glasses. "Is there something on your mind?" he asked.

Y/n hesitated for a moment, considering her response carefully. She wasn't sure if she should bring up her recent encounter with the Scarecrow, especially given Dr. Crane's interest in fear and psychology. But something about his demeanor encouraged her to speak up. She cracked it down to the fact that he was around higher risk patients at arkham so he should understand.

Y/n hesitated for a moment, choosing her words carefully. She didn't want to alarm Dr. Crane or reveal too much about her involvement with Gotham's underworld.

"Well, actually..." she began, her voice measured. "I recently had a rather unusual encounter with someone who... operates outside the norms, let's say."

Dr. Crane raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued. "Go on," he prompted, leaning forward slightly.

"There's this... guy," she began, her voice thoughtful. "Who put me in a rather diffucult situation. But instead of leaving me in trouble, this guy… helped me. He claimed that his actions were never intended to inconvenience me, but rather someone else entirely. It's all rather confusing to me."

As she spoke, Dr. Crane listened attentively, his analytical gaze fixed on her. There was a calculating intensity in his eyes that sent a shiver down her spine, but she pushed past it, determined to convey the essence of her experience without divulging too much.

He leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers thoughtfully. “Why do you think he wouldn’t have helped you?” he asked.

“Well this... guy... well, he’s not exactly known for his generosity,” Y/n said, choosing her words carefully.

"I see," he murmured, his tone contemplative. "It seems you've had quite the... encounter."

Y/n nodded, relieved that she had managed to convey the situation without revealing too many details.

“Well... what about the situation confuses you?” he asked.

“The fact that he helped me, I just don’t understand it,” Y/n said.

“Had you encountered this individual prior to that?” Dr. Crane inquired.

“Yes, and he wasn’t particularly pleasant,” Y/n replied.

“Perhaps he had a change of heart, felt remorse... or maybe you interested him in some way,” Dr. Crane suggested.

Y/n recognized that Dr. Crane might not offer much assistance, especially since her account was far from the complete truth, but she valued his perspective.

“Yeah... maybe,” she said, considering his viewpoint.

The two appointments proceeded smoothly. The first patient was a paranoid individual, tormented by incessant fears of lurking threats in the shadows. As for the second patient was a woman struggling with intense anxiety and recurring nightmares. Dr. Crane navigated through their sessions with his calmness and precision, offering insightful observations and gentle guidance.

As the day progressed, Y/n found herself drawn into the complexities of the patients' minds, witnessing firsthand the challenges they faced and the therapeutic approaches employed by Dr. Crane.

By the end of the day, Y/n felt a newfound respect for Dr. Crane's expertise and a deeper curiosity about the human psyche.

Leaving Arkham, they boarded the Akrham train heading to the city center. "I trust today has been insightful for you," Dr. Crane remarked as they found their seats.

The clatter of the train tracks provided a rhythmic backdrop to their conversation as they settled into their seats. Y/n nodded, reflecting on the day's events. "Definitely," she replied. "It's given me a lot to think about."

Dr. Crane inclined his head, his gaze thoughtful. "Understanding the human mind is a continuous journey, filled with both challenges and revelations," he remarked. "But it's a journey worth undertaking."

Y/n nodded in agreement, absorbing his words. As the train rumbled on, she noticed that her stop was nearing.

"Thank you, Dr. Crane. You've been a really amazing mentor today," Y/n expressed her gratitude.

Dr. Crane nodded, acknowledging her gratitude. "You're welcome, Y/n. If you ever need any guidance or have any questions in the future, feel free to reach out," he said, his tone surprisingly warm.

As the train slowed to a stop at Y/n's station, she gathered her belongings and stood up. "I'll keep that in mind. Thank you again," she said, offering a polite smile before stepping off the train.

"Have a safe walk home," Dr. Crane bid farewell as the train doors slid shut.

As she walked away from the station, Y/n couldn't shake the feeling of curiosity about Dr. Crane. There was something intriguing about him, something she couldn't quite put her finger on. But for now, she pushed those thoughts aside and focused on the rest of her day ahead.

Alone in the dark, a wave of fear washed over her. Her home was just a ten-minute walk from the station, but after receiving that ominous message yesterday, she felt more uneasy than usual.

The usual nightly weirdos on the street didn't bother her much, no, it was the thought of encountering Scarecrow that sent shivers down her spine.

As she walked, a group of guys stepped out from a dark alley, eyeing her with leering grins. "Hey, sweetheart, looking for some company?" one of them called out, his tone dripping with sleaze.

Y/n rolled her eyes, unimpressed by their attempts to intimidate her. "Sorry, boys, not interested," she replied, quickening her pace.

As they closed in, Y/n sprang into action with lightning speed. In one fluid motion, she lunged towards the nearest assailant, her hands moving with precision. With a swift twist, she disarmed him, the weapon clattering to the ground with a metallic clang.

Before the others could react, Y/n hit him with calculated strikes, each one finding its mark with pinpoint accuracy. With each opponent she incapacitated, the threat diminished, until finally, all that remained was a pile of defeated adversaries at her feet.

Just as she thought the situation was under control, a familiar chill ran down her spine. The dim streetlight cast eerie shadows as Scarecrow emerged from the darkness, his silhouette looming ominously. Y/n's heart raced, her muscles tensing in anticipation.

The air seemed to thicken with tension as Scarecrow's gaze swept over the scene. She braced herself as the Scarecrow raised his hand, expecting the worst. Shielding her face, she awaited the inevitable assault, but instead, she heard screams erupting behind her.

Reluctantly lowering her arms, she turned to witness a man writhing on the ground, his cries echoing through the deserted street beside a discarded firearm. Her gaze snapped back to the Scarecrow, her eyes widening in astonishment.

"One missed," he remarked coolly.

“Scarecrow…” she uttered, caught between greeting him and still processing the situation.

“Y/n,” he acknowledged.

“So...you know my name now,” she remarked, her tone barely masking her worry.

“Would you prefer I call you Batgirl still?” he asked, sarcastically.

“I suppose there’s no point,” Y/n shrugged, conceding to the truth.

Observing him in the dimly lit street, she couldn't help but notice his eerie yet intriguing presence. “Nice suit,” she commented, attempting to break the tension.

“Thank you,” he replied courteously, his mask concealing any expression.

Despite his seemingly benign demeanor, she couldn't shake off her unease about his sudden appearance. “What are you doing here?” she probed cautiously.

“Making sure you got home safely,” he responded matter-of-factly.

“You’re following me?” she questioned, her suspicion growing palpable.

“Looks that way,” he confirmed, his voice protraying no hint of emotion.

“...I’ll be off then,” she stated, turning to head back home.

His footsteps echoed behind her, prompting her to halt and face him. “You’re still here?”

"You don’t think I was just going to leave,” he remarked.

“Then can you at least not stalk behind me?” Y/n requested, her tone surprisingly composed despite her lingering unease.

Closing the distance between them, he fell into step beside her. “You know Batman might find you,” she warned.

“Not tonight, I saw him off chasing the Penguin,” he assured her.

Y/n looked ahead, contemplating their unusual companionship. “So… are you going to hurt me?” she questioned, her voice hinting her vulnerability.

“I didn’t hurt you before, why would I now?” he countered.

“Well, why else are you here?” she pressed, her curiosity piqued.

“It was you that said you’d ‘see me around’,” Scarecrow reminded her.

She recalled their earlier exchange, surprised that he remembered. “I didn’t think you’d remember… or care,” she admitted.

They lapsed into silence for a moment before Y/n broke it. “How did you find me?” she asked the question that was weighing on her mind since she got the note.

“It was coincidence,” Scarecrow replied cryptically.

“Seriously! That's all?” Y/n protested.

“I saw you... and gaining access to you was a simple matter after that,” he explained.

Y/n paused, contemplating the implications of his words.

“Wait, so you mean to say... Did I see you around?” Y/n's curiosity peaked.

Scarecrow's silence spoke volumes, confirming her suspicions. Y/n's mind raced, attempting to pinpoint any instance where she could have crossed paths with Scarecrow during the day, but nothing came to mind.

"You're annoying, you know that? Why can't you just tell me who you are?" Y/n pressed, frustration lacing her words.

"And give you the chance to share with your caped crusader? I think not," Scarecrow retorted with a hint of amusement in his distorted voice.

Y/n scowled, "This is bullshit. What kind of friend are you?"

"Friend?" Scarecrow echoed, a note of mock surprise in his tone.

Realizing she had referred to him as a friend, Y/n hesitated, "Well… I don’t know."

"Considering me a friend? That's rather... optimistic of you," Scarecrow jested.

"You know what? Fuck you," Y/n snapped, pushing him away in annoyance.

Scarecrow's laughter, distorted and chilling, filled the air.

"About that crow yesterday..." Y/n shifted the topic.

"Ah, yes, Craw," Scarecrow interjected.

"Craw... you named your bird after the sound it makes? What are you, five?" Y/n couldn't help but mock his choice.

"Feeling particularly bitey today, aren't we?" Scarecrow remarked with a hint of amusement.

"I'm just pointing out the obvious. You could have called him anything and you settled on 'Craw'? It's like naming a cat 'Meow' or a dog ‘Woof’," Y/n countered.

"I doubt your question was solely to critique my naming choices," Scarecrow deflected, steering the conversation forward.

"So, you have a trained crow... cool," Y/n conceded.

With a snap of his fingers, Scarecrow summoned the crow, which gracefully swooped down to perch on his shoulder.

"Fuck, that’s impressive," Y/n admitted, genuinely taken aback.

"He's a good companion," Scarecrow acknowledged, affectionately caressing the crow's feathered chest.

"And yet, when I mention friendship, I'm desperate?" Y/n teased with a scoff.

"I'm merely taken aback... You haven't even tried to call Batman on me yet," Scarecrow observed.

"Well, if he can have his criminal friend, I don't see why I shouldn't either," Y/n reasoned, thinking about Bruces weird thing with Catwomen.

"It only seems fair," Scarecrow conceded with a nod.

As they approached her apartment complex, Y/n paused and faced Scarecrow.

"I guess this is where I leave you," she remarked, a hint of reluctance in her tone as she gestured towards the looming building of her apartment complex.

Scarecrow tilted his head slightly, his gaze lingering on her for a moment longer than usual. "Seems so. You'll be safe here, I presume?"

Y/n couldn't help but feel a pang of irony at the question, considering who it was coming from. "Yeah, I'll be fine. Thanks for helping me back there," she quipped, offering him a small, genuine smile.

Scarecrow nodded once, sharply, as if dismissing any need for gratitude. "Take care, Y/n."

With those parting words, he turned and disappeared into the shadows from where he came, leaving Y/n to stare after him for a long moment. Shaking her head slightly, as if to clear it from the surreal encounter, she turned and headed towards her apartment, her mind swirling with thoughts about the night's events and the enigmatic figure that had just left her side.

The anticipation for her next encounter with Scarecrow had always been tinged with impatience, but now, there was a distinct shift in her desires. Gone was the sole focus on capturing him, instead, she found herself wanting to talk, even hang out with the guy.

Wandering the corridors of Arkham, her thoughts were abruptly interrupted by an exasperated shout not far from her location. “Damn bird!” echoed off the sterile walls.

Curious, Y/n turned on her heel to investigate. A large bird flying through the hallway, causing a commotion. But this was no ordinary crow, as it swooped closer, she recognized it instantly. Craw, Scarecrow's supposed good companion.

As the crow landed gracefully before her, Y/n crouched down, gently scooping him up. The security guard, panting from the chase, approached with a look of annoyance plastered across his face.

“Stupid bird,” he muttered, reaching out to snatch Craw away.

Y/n, cradling the crow protectively, assured him, “It's fine, I've got this. I'll make sure he's put outside.”

The guard, too worn out to argue further, simply shrugged and departed. Alone now, Y/n shifted her focus to Craw, who seemed quite content in her grasp.

Noticing a piece of paper held in his beak, she gently grabbed it, speaking softly to the crow, “Hey there, pretty. How did you manage to find me here?”

Placing Craw on her shoulder, she unfolded the note.

‘I’ll see you tonight.’

A smile unknowingly crept across her face as she read the message. Shortly after, Craw took flight from her shoulder, darting down the corridor.

“No! Craw, I need to take you outside!” she called after him, her plea falling on deaf ears.

With a resigned sigh, she watched him disappear deeper into the Asylum. “Well, he's someone else's problem now.”

Despite the mild chaos, the note clutched in her hand warmed her heart, igniting a flutter of excitement for what the evening might bring.

The walk home felt different for Y/n this evening. Each shadow cast by the dim streetlights seemed to promise the appearance of Scarecrow, echoing his note that said they would meet again. With every step, her anticipation grew, turning each corner with a mix of eagerness and anxiety, expecting to find him waiting in the familiar alley where their paths often crossed. But tonight, the alley remained empty.

The silence of the alleyway, usually filled with the tension of their encounters, now hung heavy with disappointment. She lingered for a moment, scanning the shadows and empty spaces where he might have stood, half-hoping for the rustle of his coat or the soft click of his approach. But there was nothing. Just the quiet of the night and the distant hum of the city.

As she continued her walk home, the excitement that had quickened her steps faded into a dull ache of letdown. Thoughts raced through her mind, pondering why he hadn't appeared. Had something happened to him? Had Batman managed to intervene?

Reaching her apartment, Y/n couldn't shake the sense of solitude that enveloped her. Inside, the quiet of her home only amplified her disappointment. With a heavy sigh, Y/n resigned herself to the evening's solitude, dropping onto her bed.

As she lay in the quiet of her room, Y/n found herself wrestling with thoughts that mocked her for entertaining the idea of a friendship with someone as complex and dangerous as Scarecrow. How could she, grounded in her own principles and duties, truly expect to build a connection with a figure who thrived in the shadows, a master of fear?

Her thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a thump against her window. Startled, she glanced up, only to find the familiar silhouette of a crow striking the glass. Hurrying over, she opened the window, allowing Craw to flutter into the room. Peering out the window, her pulse quickened at the sight below.

Scarecrow stood on the ground, gazing up at her with his usual get-up.

"May I come up?" his voice floated up to her.

Without hesitation, she swung onto the fire escape, releasing the ladder for him. As he ascended, a mixture of surprise and anticipation filled her.

"Why are you here?" she inquired, as he stepped through the window into her room.

"I said I'd see you tonight," he replied.

"I thought you’d just walk me home," she admitted, a smile playing on her lips despite herself.

"Indeed, I intended to, but I was held up," Scarecrow said, his voice carrying a touch of regret.

Inside her room, with the city's night as their backdrop, she couldn't help but jest, "So, the man behind the mask has a life?"

Scarecrow chuckled below the mask, “That I do.”

Now settled in her room, Y/n found a comfortable spot on her bed, her back resting gently against the headboard.

With a curious tilt of her head, she ventured, "Could I possibly hear more about the man beneath the mask?"

He hesitated for a moment before answering, "I was caught up at work, actual work, something that required my immediate attention."

This prompted Y/n to recall her little interaction with his crow eariler. "Speaking of work, how did you manage to send Craw into Arkham?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Let's just say he found his way through a window," he replied,criptically.

Scarecrow chose a spot at the foot of her bed, directly opposite her, and gracefully seated himself. Craw saw it as an opportunity to hopped onto his thigh, finding comfort in his familiar presence.

As they sat in Y/n's room, the silence between them was palpable. Y/n couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions. Curiosity, apprehension, and a strange sense of comfort in Scarecrow's presence. She studied him closely, trying to decipher the man, but his expression remained hidden.

"So, what really brings you here tonight?" Y/n finally broke the silence, her voice betraying a hint of nervousness.

Scarecrow glanced at her, his gaze piercing. "I wanted to check on you," he replied simply.

Y/n raised an eyebrow, skeptical of his intentions. "Check on me?" she echoed, searching his face for any hint of deception.

"Yes," Scarecrow affirmed, his tone unwavering. "After our encounter the other night, I thought I should make sure you're okay."

Y/n's initial skepticism softened slightly, replaced by a flicker of surprise. Despite their strange relationship, Scarecrow's concern for her well-being was unexpected.

"I'm fine," Y/n reassured him, offering a small smile. "But why go through the trouble? You're not exactly known for your kindness."

Scarecrow's lips quirked into a faint smile, the gesture almost imperceptible. "Perhaps I'm not as one-dimensional as you think," he remarked.

Y/n's curiosity piqued at his response, but before she could delve further, there was a sudden knock on her apartment door.

“Y/n? I called you but you didn’t answer,” it was Bruce.

The sudden interruption sent Y/n's heart racing, a surge of panic flooding her as she heard Bruce's voice through the door. She momentarily froze, realizing the difficult situation she was in. Glancing frantically at Scarecrow, she leaped into action, her movements swift and desperate.

"Under the bed, now!" she hissed, urgency lacing her whisper as she practically shoved Scarecrow towards the hiding spot.

Without hesitation, Scarecrow complied, slipping under the bed. No sooner had he vanished from sight than Y/n dashed to the apartment's entrance, her mind racing with excuses.

"Hey, Bruce, sorry about that. My phone's been on silent, what’s up?" she managed to say with a feigned nonchalance as she swung the door open, greeting him with a practiced casualness.

"I said I'd swing by to check on you. Everything's been okay lately?" Bruce asked, stepping past the threshold with a concerned glance.

"Yep, all good here," Y/n replied, her voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through her veins.

Y/n found herself desperately seeking a solution that wouldn't raise Bruce's suspicions, yet every moment he lingered increased the risk of Scarecrow's presence unmasking Bruce's own secret identity. Trapped between a rock and a hard place, she was at a loss, her mind racing for a strategy that seemed increasingly elusive.

Then, an ominous thump from her bedroom shattered the tense silence, causing her heart to plummet into her stomach.

"What was that?" Bruce's voice sharpened with alertness, his instinctive concern prompting him to move toward the source of the sound.

Y/n's anxiety reached it’s limits until, unexpectedly, a voice came from her bedroom. "Y/n? Who's at the door?" It was unmistakably Scarecrow, yet his voice was stripped of its usual menacing distortion, sounding disarmingly normal.

Panic painted Y/n's face with a stark shade of horror, a silent scream at the realization of her rapidly unraveling situation. However, Bruce's reaction took a turn Y/n hadn't anticipated. His expression, initially furrowed with concern, smoothly transitioned into an amused smirk.

"I didn't realize you had company. I'll leave you to your...guest," he said, his voice laced with an uncharacteristic lightness.

In that moment, Y/n's dread shifted to a baffling sense of relief to mild embarrassment. The flush of embarrassment that crept up Y/n's cheeks. The implication in Bruce's assumption that her "guest" was there for reasons more intimate was mortifying, yet it was a far more palatable scenario than him suspecting the presence of a notorious criminal in her bedroom.

"U-uh, yeah, sorry," she managed, her voice a mix of awkwardness and gratitude as she escorted Bruce to the door.

Pausing at the threshold, Bruce turned back to her, his expression lightly amused. "Have a good night," he said, his voice carrying a hint of jest before he delivered a playful wink and departed.

As Y/n closed the door behind him, a wave of relief washed over her, tinged with a lingering embarrassment. As Y/n reentered her bedroom, her gaze fell upon Craw, who had perched on the shelf by her door.

"Are you still hiding under my bed?" she asked, her knees pressing against the cool floor as she peered under the bed.

There he was, Scarecrow, his frame stretched out beneath her bed, an unexpected sight that was oddly endearing. "Yeah," came his muffled reply.

"It's safe to come out now," she assured him, her voice lifting with a mix of relief and warmth.

As Scarecrow emerged, his presence seemed to fill the room. "What was that thumping sound?" she asked, genuinely puzzled.

"Craw decided the door looked interesting," Scarecrow quipped, a hint of affection for the mischief-maker in his tone.

Y/n's eyes darted to Craw, her expression one of mock frustration. "You bloody bird!" she growled, though the crow seemed preoccupied with scratching his wing with his beak.

"And thank you, by the way. My heart nearly stopped when he headed towards my room," she admitted, her hands finding their way to her hips.

"Who was that, if I may ask?" Scarecrow's curiosity was evident, his head tilted.

"A friend," she answered simply.

"Just a friend?" he probed further, an edge of something playful in his voice.

"Jealous?" Y/n teased, a light chuckle escaping her.

"Should I be?" he parried, his voice laced with amusement.

Y/n's laughter filled the room, a sound of genuine amusement. "Bruce is just a friend. Though now he probably thinks I've got a secret lover stashed in here," she said, the humor in her situation not lost on her.

"Bruce? As in-" Scarecrow started, only for Y/n to jump in.

"Bruce Wayne? Yes," she confirmed, closing the loop on his thought.

"I would've expected the Batman, not Bruce Wayne," he mused, his voice carrying a note of mock disappointment.

"Batman wouldn’t bother with the front door, that’s for sure," Y/n laughed.

Y/n chuckled, her fingers idly tracing patterns on her bedspread. "So, did you... you know, take off the mask when you called out?" she asked.

Scarecrow's response was matter-of-fact. "Well, yeah. I don’t know if you can tell, but my voice isn’t naturally distorted," he pointed out.

Y/n's playful pout betrayed her teasing tone. "That's not fair! My room got to see your face before I did!" she exclaimed, feigning offense.

"Your room is quite the lucky spectator," he remarked, his tone filled with amusement.

"I bet you won’t show me cause you’re insecure," Y/n teased with a playful glint in her eye.

Scarecrow tilted his head. "Or perhaps I prefer the mystery. Keeps things interesting, doesn't it?" His voice was muffled slightly by the fabric covering his features.

Y/n laughed, shaking her head. "Interesting for you, maybe. I'm just sitting here guessing if you're secretly a model or if you've got a face only a mother could love."

"Guess you'll just have to keep wondering," he replied.

The room fell into a comfortable silence, filled only by the soft rustling of Craw shifting on his perch. Y/n found herself studying Scarecrow, trying to glean any hint of the man behind the mask from his posture, his movements, even the way he spoke. There was an undeniable curiosity bubbling within her, a desire to know more about the mysterious figure who'd become an unexpected constant in her life.

As the night wore on, their conversation flowed, ranging from trivial banter to more serious discussions about their contrasting views of the city they both operated in. Despite their differences, Y/n felt a strange sense of kinship with Scarecrow, a connection forged in the unlikeliest of circumstances.

Eventually, Y/n yawned, the lateness of the hour catching up to her. Scarecrow noticed, standing up from where he had been sitting. "I should go," he said, his voice carrying a note of reluctance.

Y/n nodded, feeling an unexpected twinge of disappointment at the thought of him leaving. "Yeah, I guess it's getting late."

As Scarecrow moved toward the window, Y/n called out, "Will I see you again?"

He paused at the window, turning slightly to look at her. "I'm sure you will," he said, a hint of a smile in his voice.

And with that, he slipped out into the night with Craw flying after him, leaving Y/n with a mix of emotions and the lingering thrill of their conversation.

After two calm weeks, Bruce finally agreed to Y/n resuming her nightly endeavors alongside him. Although he harbored lingering doubts about Scarecrow, Y/n managed to clam his concerns, assuring him that Scarecrow would not pose a threat.

As Y/n and Batman moved stealthily through the Narrows, the dense fog seemed to cloak their presence further, blending them into the night. This part of Gotham, with its tight alleys and towering buildings, felt like a world entirely its own.

"Keep your guard up," Batman whispered, his voice barely carrying over the mist. "The Narrows are unpredictable."

Y/n nodded, her senses on high alert. The Narrows always had a way of keeping you on your toes, its residents too used to the shadows. But tonight, there was an odd stillness, as if the very air was holding its breath.

Suddenly, Batman stiffened, his head tilting slightly, the universal sign that he was receiving a communication through the cowl's integrated comms. Y/n watched him, waiting for instructions, knowing that whatever had just come through could very well dictate their next move.

After a moment, Batman turned to her, the glow from the city behind him casting a shadow over his face. "Riddler's causing trouble downtown. I need to go now."

"I'll stay here. Keep an eye on things," she offered, already mentally preparing to handle the Narrows alone.

Batman nodded, a silent message of trust and confidence in her abilities. "Be careful," he said before grappling away, disappearing into the night sky.

Alone now, Y/n felt the weight of the silence around her. The Narrows, with its whispering shadows and secrets, suddenly seemed even more foreboding. She took a deep breath, centering herself. This was her domain too, her responsibility.

"Thought he’d never leave," came a voice below her, drawing her attention downward.

As Y/n leaned over the edge of the rooftop. To her surprise, Scarecrow stood on the balcony below, his figure illuminated by the faint glow of the city lights.

"You've been here the whole time?" Y/n exclaimed, taken aback by his sudden appearance.

"I've been waiting inside. The place was abandoned," Scarecrow replied calmly, gesturing towards the building behind him.

Y/n hopped down from the rooftop, landing gracefully on the balcony beside him.

"Wow, Batman and I need to step up our game," she remarked, impressed by Scarecrow's stealth.

"Haven’t seen you as Batgirl in a while," Scarecrow noted, his gaze lingering on her.

"Yeah, thanks to you. I was sidelined. Batman thought you were gonna go after me," Y/n explained, a hint of frustration in her voice.

"Keeping you safe. Wise man," Scarecrow replied cryptically, a faint smirk playing on his lips.

Y/n chuckled, shaking her head. "More like overprotective," she whined.

Y/n could hear Scarecrow smirk behind the mask. "He has reason to be. You're not exactly easy to replace."

Y/n rolled her eyes playfully. "Flattery will get you nowhere," she teased.

"Where's Craw?" Y/n asked, looking around.

"Is my presence not enough for you?" Scarecrow teased.

Y/n side-eyed him, and Scarecrow chuckled. "He's back at my lab."

Scarecrow leaned against the balcony railing, his gaze scanning the darkened streets below. "So, what's the plan now? Are you patrolling solo?"

Y/n nodded. "Looks like it. Batman got called away to deal with Riddler downtown."

Scarecrow hummed in response. "Well then, I guess it's just you and me tonight."

Y/n raised an eyebrow, a hint of skepticism in her expression. "You planning on causing any trouble?"

Scarecrow chuckled, shaking his head. "Not tonight."

They fell into an easy silence, the sounds of the city filling the air around them. Despite the darkness that surrounded them, Y/n couldn't help but feel a sense of camaraderie with Scarecrow, an unexpected ally in the night.

Y/n cast a sidelong glance at Scarecrow, noting the unusual cleanliness of his attire. "Not the usual tattered suit?" she pointed out.

Scarecrow glanced down at his suit. "Well, one has to look clean to impress," he replied, glazing at her.

"I'm sure Batman doesn't mind how you look," Y/n quipped, a playful glint in her eye.

Y/n leaned her back against the balcony railing, her gaze meeting Scarecrow's with a hint of mischief.

"Although, I must admit, the rugged look suits you," she teased, a sly smile playing on her lips.

Scarecrow chuckled softly, his gaze meeting hers with a spark of amusement. "Is that so? Perhaps I should stick to the tattered aesthetic then," he countered, his tone laced with flirtatiousness.

Y/n's laughter rang out across the night sky, the sound mixing with the distant hum of the city below. "You do you, Scarecrow. Just don't expect me to swoon over every torn thread," she replied, a playful glimmer dancing in her eyes.

Scarecrow leaned in slightly, his voice lowering to a whisper. "Ah, but what if I told you I have a whole wardrobe of tattered suits just waiting to impress you?"

Y/n chuckled, her heart fluttering at the playful tone in Scarecrow's voice. "Just for me? Scandalous.”

"Well, if torn threads won't do the trick, I'll have to find another way to catch your eye." Scarecrow added.

Y/n raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a mischievous grin. "Oh? And what approach are you planning to take?"

He leaned in even closer, his gaze locking with hers. "I suppose I'll have to rely on my charming wit and irresistible charm," he replied, his tone filled with playful confidence.

Y/n chuckled, the sound light and melodious in the night air. "Smooth talker, are we?" she teased, her own playful demeanor matching his.

Scarecrow's grin widened, a glint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "Only when I'm in good company," he admitted, his voice softening slightly as he held her gaze.

Y/n's cheeks flushed at his words, her gaze lingering on his captivating eyes. "You certainly know how to flatter a girl," she teased, unable to suppress the flutter of excitement building within her.

Scarecrow chuckled softly, the sound sending a thrill through Y/n. "Only because you make it so easy," he murmured, his gaze holding hers with an intensity that left her breathless.

"If I weren't on duty, I might have been tempted to steal a kiss from you right here," she teased, her fingers playfully tugging at his noose.

With a wink, she turned on her heel and disappeared into the abandoned apartment, leaving Scarecrow to ponder her words.

"You never know, the night is young," he remarked, his voice laced with playful innuendo.

"Oh, but I could never kiss a man whose face I've never seen," Y/n remarked.

"Oh, but the mystery adds to the allure, don't you think?" Scarecrow countered.

Scarecrow chuckled, the sound echoing in the dimly lit room. "Who says you haven't seen it before?"

Y/n halted in her tracks, her eyes widening in surprise as she turned back to face him.

"So, I have actually seen you before?" she asked eagerly.

Scarecrow nodded, a hint of amusement in his demeanor. "Yes, indeed," he confirmed.

Her excitement grew, and she leaned in closer. "Did we talk?" she pressed.

"We did," he replied, a slight smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

Her disbelief turned into sheer astonishment. "Oh my god! Seriously? Can you tell me more?" she exclaimed.

"We had quite a conversation, and we crossed paths a few times afterward," Scarecrow disclosed.

Y/n racked her brain, trying to recall any details, but she was drawing a blank. Feeling frustrated and a little foolish for not making the connection, she sighed. Despite now knowing what he sounded like without the mask, she still couldn't piece it together.

"Holy fuck! That's incredible!" Y/n exclaimed, laughter bubbling up from within her. "Can you give me just a tiny hint about what you look like?" Y/n pleaded.

"Sorry, but that would spoil the fun," Scarecrow replied.

Y/n persisted, "Well, do you at least know if I find you attractive?"

"Why do you want to know that?" Scarecrow questioned.

"Because it might have to kiss you after all," Y/n teased.

Scarecrow considered her words before responding, "...I don’t know. You didn't seem particularly impressed when you saw me, you were just a bit awkward at first. But to be fair, so was I."

There was a hint of vulnerability in his tone, though Y/n couldn't be sure. "Perhaps my awkwardness was due to the fact I was starstruck?" she offered playfully.

Scarecrow sounded unconvinced. "Unlikely," he countered gently.

"Or… could it be because my attention was already captivated by someone else? Maybe a certain Scarecrow?" Y/n teased, aiming to lighten his spirits.

Scarecrow's demeanor shifted, his voice tinged with defensiveness. "Why the sudden interest, Batgirl? You've never shown any feelings towards me before. What's changed?" he asked.

Y/n found herself confused by the unfolding situation. When had she begun to flirt with Scarecrow, and why was she so invested in making him believe she was romantically interested? Whenever this change occurred, she didn’t mind it.

"Woah. You started this, and don't act as if you weren't flirting with me too," Y/n retorted.

Scarecrow's tone never softened, his eyes narrowing as he studied Y/n's face. "And if I was? What are your intentions, Y/n?" he asked.

"I don’t know! I was just bantering, playing along… what were your intentions then? How do I know you're not just leading me on so you can gas me again?" Y/n retorted, turning the tables on him.

This clearly offended Scarecrow. "You know it was an accident."

"Do I?" Y/n challenged.

Scarecrow's expression softened, a hint of regret in his eyes. "I didn't mean to hurt you," he said quietly.

Y/n felt a pang of sympathy. "I know," she replied softly.

They stood in silence for a moment, the weight of their conversation hanging in the air. Eventually, Y/n spoke up again. "Look, I didn't mean to upset you."

"Look, I didn't mean to upset you," Y/n said, her tone sincere.

Scarecrow took a deep breath, visible even through his attire. "And I apologize if I seemed defensive. It wasn't my intention."

Their eyes met, an unspoken understanding passing between them. Both were treading uncharted waters, neither sure of where the current would take them but willing to navigate it together.

"So, I've been meaning to ask," Y/n began, again with the playfulness in her voice, "do you wear contacts?"

Scarecrow tilted his head slightly, "Prescription ones, yes."

"But not colored?" she probed further.

"No, why do you ask?" Scarecrow's response carried a mix of curiosity and amusement.

Y/n's tone softened, warmth seeping into her words, "It's just that... you have really pretty eyes."

"Again with the flattery?" Scarecrow teased.

"It's just the truth," Y/n replied with a grin.

"And here I was thinking I might get a kiss," Scarecrow joked.

Y/n chuckled, shaking her head, "I told you, I’m not going to kiss a man I don’t know."

Scarecrow shrugged, a playful glint in his eyes, "That’s a shame."

The distant wail of sirens interrupted their banter.

"I should probably leave now," Scarecrow remarked.

"Yeah… see you later?" Y/n said, a hopeful note in her voice.

"Count on it. Until then... See you at Arkham," Scarecrow said, disappearing into the night.

Y/n's mind raced to piece together the puzzle he had inadvertently presented her. It took a moment for the realization to sink in, but when it did, her heart skipped a beat.

"Wait a minute!" she called out, but it was futile, Scarecrow was already gone.

Her mind buzzed with newfound clarity. Tall, lanky, formal speech, glasses, and now, a connection to Arkham. It all clicked into place with a sudden jolt of realization. How had she not seen it before?

"Holy fuck," Y/n breathed, her pulse quickening.

The pieces of the puzzle were finally falling into place, revealing a truth she couldn't ignore. Scarecrow... was someone from Arkham. And in that moment, a single name echoed in her mind with chilling clarity.

The conversations they'd shared, the topics they'd discussed, all pointed to one undeniable truth. His fascination with fear, his strange approach to their encounters, it was all too familiar now.

The memory of their first meeting flooded back, and suddenly, it made perfect sense. The shock on his face, the careful choice of words. It was Dr. Crane, right before her eyes.

Y/n couldn't believe she hadn't seen it sooner. How had she missed the signs? How had she not recognized the man behind the mask all along?

Now faced with this newfound knowledge, Y/n was at a crossroads. Should she maintain the facade of ignorance, carrying on as if nothing had changed? Or should she confront Dr. Crane, acknowledging the truth that lay between them? And what about the promise she'd made, the playful banter about kissing him. Was it all just a game, or did it hold deeper significance now?

One thing was certain, she couldn't risk revealing her discovery to Bruce. As she grappled with these thoughts, Y/n resolved to tread carefully, to navigate this delicate situation with caution. The truth had been revealed, but its aftermath remained to be seen.

Throughout the morning, Y/n felt restless as she awaited her encounter with Dr. Crane. Stuck in Dr. Young's office sorting files, she impatiently waited for the opportunity to find him.

As soon as she finished with the files, Y/n swiftly stored them away and left the office, determined to seek out Dr. Crane in the secure section of Arkham.

As Y/n made her way through the corridors of Arkham, her mind raced with anticipation. She had been waiting for this moment, hoping to confront Dr. Crane. Suddenly, she spotted him in the distance, his figure unmistakable amidst the gloom. Their eyes locked, and she saw a hint of amusement in his expression, as if he knew she was coming.

Her heart skipped a beat. Feeling a surge of determination, Y/n hastened her steps, closing the gap between them with purpose. As she reached Dr. Crane, she grabbed his arm firmly, surprising him with her sudden boldness. His smirk widened slightly, betraying a mixture of surprise and curiosity at her actions.

Without uttering a word, Y/n tugged him along, leading him towards his office. Dr. Crane offered little resistance, seemingly taken aback by Y/n's assertiveness. As they entered the office, Y/n swiftly closed the door behind them and turned the key in the lock, sealing them inside.

"You sly motherfucker," Y/n breathed out.

Entwining her fingers in his hair, she drew him closer, her lips crashing against his in a fiery embrace. The kiss ignited a whirlwind of emotions, fueled by pent-up desire and the thrill of discovery.

Caught off guard by Y/n's sudden boldness, Dr. Crane hesitated for a moment before surrendering to the intoxicating allure of her kiss. His hands found their way to her waist, pulling her closer as the intensity of the moment enveloped them both.

For a fleeting moment, the world outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them in their own private universe of passion and longing. But as the kiss deepened, an obnoxious buzz interrupted the moment, reminding them of their surroundings.

Reluctantly breaking the kiss, Y/n and Dr. Crane gazed into each other's eyes, a mixture of surprise and desire reflected in their expressions.

"I... I didn't expect..." Dr. Crane began, his voice trailing off as he struggled to find the right words.

Y/n's heart raced as she searched his eyes for any sign of regret or hesitation. But instead, she found a spark of something else, a glimmer of longing and vulnerability that mirrored her own.

"I'm sorry," Y/n whispered, her voice barely above a breath. "I just couldn't resist."

She noticed a blush creeping up Dr. Crane’s cheeks as he adjusted his glasses.

"Am I fogging up your glasses?" Y/n teased.

Dr. Crane chuckled nervously. "Not disappointed, I see," he replied, his tone unable to hide his embarrassment.

Y/n smiled, her eyes twinkling with affection. "Now, I could never be disappointed in my Scarecrow," she said, her words filled with warmth.

Dr. Crane's blush deepened at the endearing nickname, but he tried to maintain his composure. "I hope you don't go around kissing all your superiors," he joked, attempting to deflect the attention.

Y/n grinned mischievously. "Just you, Dr. Crane," she said, her tone teasing yet sincere.

Dr. Crane's lips curled into a soft smile at her response. "Seeing as circumstances change, you can call me Jonathan," he offered, his voice tinged with newfound intimacy.

"Well, Jonathan… I'm glad to finally know the man behind the mask," Y/n said with a smile.

"You better not go off telling your bat friend about this," Jonathan warned playfully.

"And lose my nighttime companion? No way," Y/n retorted, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

Jonathan chuckled at her response. Y/n’s eyes drifted to the closed office door.

“We should probably be getting back to work now," Y/n said, a hint of reluctance in her voice.

"We should, yes..." Jonathan began, his gaze lingering on her. "But I've never been one to follow the rules too closely," he added, drawing her closer into his embrace.

Y/n chuckled softly, realizing she wouldn't be leaving the office anytime soon. With a smile on her lips and a newfound connection in her heart, Y/n embraced the unpredictable journey ahead, knowing that whatever was between them was going to be complicated. But as Jonathan's lips met hers once more, Y/n felt a rush of exhilaration, realizing that wouldn’t want it any other way.

A/N: Thank you so much for the request 💚 I really did enjoy writing this fic, enemies hit differently when it's in superhero fics and I love it. Even with the fic being 15k long, I wasn't sure how to make them 'lovers', so I ended up just making them playfully flirt and just turn it into real attraction cause...slay. So yeah, it's a bit fast paced but I am still happy with what I've written and I hope yous are too :) It took me quite a while to write as I've just been so busy with Uni and work lately, finding time between has been difficult. Thank you again and I hope you enjoyed 💚

#fanfic #jonathan crane #jonathan crane fanfic #jonathan crane x reader #dc scarecrow #cillian murphy scarecrow #batman scarecrow #the scarecrow #scarecrow #scarecrow x batgirl #batgirl #reader is batgirl #scarecrow x reader

342 notes · View notes

multi-fandom-things730 · 8 months

Text

Across Enemy Lines

Summary: Jon Moxley’s sister has been through a lot during her career at AEW, but Tyler has always been there for her. So when Wheeler starts messing with Tyler, Y/N is not going to sit by and watch it happen.

Warnings: family drama, fighting, arguing, violence, intergender fighting, weapons, threats, protective!Y/N, angst, fluff, Wheeler being a little jerk, bit of spice

A/N: I hope you all enjoy this fic!! It is quite long😅 But I worked super hard so I hope you enjoy!! The support I get on my fics really means the world to me and I love each and every one of you!!!!!!!!🥹🤍 And as always, a special thanks to @99hook , who always listens to me ramble about my ideas and helps me💛✨ And to @madhatterbri who listens to ramble as well, and helped me come up with the PERFECT name for this fic💜

Y/N let out a sad sigh, and watched as her breath swirled around the cold air in front of her.

She was sitting on a curb outside the arena, knees pulled to her chest as she waited for Taz's car to pull around and pick her up.

Tyler had been ejected from the building earlier that night, after getting into a fight with Wheeler and pushing an official.

She would have gone with him, but Y/N had recently become good friends with MJF and knew this night would be stressful for him as he looked for partners in his match against Jay White and his gang.

She didn't want to leave him, and Tyler said he needed some time to himself anyway. She knew he'd probably go to the gym and beat the crap out of some innocent punching bag until she got there, so she stayed.

But Y/N was now fully convinced the night couldn't have gone any worse. With Tyler getting thrown out, Mox beating the hell out of Orange, and MJF and the acclaimed losing, she just wanted to go curl up in Tyler’s arms and never leave.

But she turns to look when someone clears their throat behind her.

She turns to stare back up at the sky when she sees Claudio Castagnoli looking down at her. "What do you want Castagnoli?"

"Castagnoli?" Claudio sits down next to her. "I think you and I are far past last names"

"We used to be" Y/N says softly. "I don't know if we are anymore"

Claudio nods sadly. "We all miss you, you know? We'd be happy to have you back. Especially Jon. He misses his sister"

Y/N laughs, but they both know there's no humor behind it. "You think I'd come back? After everything? Especially the shit Wheeler pulled tonight?"

“I tried to get him to stop" Claudio points out.

Y/N lets out a sigh, her defensiveness fading. Claudio didn’t deserve it, he never deserved any of her attitude. He was the one who was always there for her. "I know... I'm sorry for snapping at you"

Claudio shakes his head. "No, don't apologize. I get it Y/N"

"I'm glad" she breathes out, before turning to face him. "Because, if you do get it; then you also get that I'm not going to just sit by and watch Wheeler mess with Tyler"

"I know" Claudio nods, but she can see the sadness he’s trying to hide in his eyes.

"I.." Y/N trails off nervously, before reaching over and putting her hand on top of his. "I miss you, Claudio"

He smiles sadly, and reaches over to wipe a stray tear from her cheek. "I miss you too Y/N"

"You know, I met Tyler during that feud we had with the Jericho Appreciation Society" Y/N reminisces with a smile.

"I know" Claudio smiles back. " I was there the night that Daniel was bothering you. I was just down the hall on my way over when Hook came and stopped him"

"Hey gorgeous"

Y/N rolled her eyes as Daniel Garcia came walking over to her.

"Don't call me that Garcia, and leave me the hell alone" Y/N huffs, trying to step around him and continue her way to the locker room.

"What's the rush? You should get used to me since you'll agree to go out with me soon" Daniel smirks.

"No, I absolutely won't Garcia" Y/N narrows her eyes up at him.

She tries to brush past him, but he grabs her arm to stop her.

Before he can get another word out, a hand grabs Daniel's shoulder.

Daniel drops Y/N's arm, and is then thrown against the wall.

Y/N's eyes widen as she realizes it was Hook who had come to help her.

The two hadn't really spoken before tonight, except for smiles and nods upon passing each other in the halls.

"You like can’t take no for an answer, huh?" Hook practically growls.

"Hook, it's fine. I'm fine, let him go" Y/N assures, placing her hand on his and pulling him off of Daniel.

Daniel gathers himself, and quickly runs away as Y/N stares up at Hook.

"You didn't have to do that for me, but thank you" She smiles.

"You don't need to thank me" Hook shrugs. "I don't like guys who act like that"

"You don't need to worry about me, I could take him" Y/N shrugs.

"I have no doubt about that" Hook grins. "But you shouldn't have to"

In truth, Hook wasn't just around by accident.

He had developed a crush on her, but was too nervous to approach her.

She was so beautiful, smart, and tough… and he knew if Mox found out he would beat his ass.

But as the two of them fell into casual conversation, and he got to watch her laugh at his lame jokes, he couldn't care less about what Mox would do. It would be worth it.

"He earned my respect that night” Claudio says. “He's a good man, stepping in to protect you like that"

"He is. He's the best man I could have ever asked for" Y/N lets a dreamy smile form on her face as she thinks about him.

Claudio smiles and squeezes her hand. "I'm glad; you deserve nothing less than perfect"

"He's not perfect" Y/N giggles. "The first time he was around me crying he had no clue what to do"

Claudio joins her in laughing. "When was that?"

"After Regal betrayed us" Y/N answers. "He came to my hotel room that night. He wasn't sure how to comfort me but, he came anyway. He thinks he did a terrible job but, I don't think anyone else would have been able to make me smile as much as he did"

Y/N didn't know what to do when she saw Regal hand MJF those damn brass knuckles.

She ran around ringside as fast as she could, and dove into the ring to try and grab it before MJF. But Regal grabbed her leg and pulled her back.

She whipped around to face him with fire in her eyes. "How could you do this?!"

He didn't give her an answer, just a sneer.

And before Y/N knew it, the bell had rung, and MJF was standing tall with the belt.

What should be her brother’s belt.

She felt like she could burst into tears, having to watch the man who had become like a father to her betray her brother.

But she kept her composure, and simply helped Mox out of the ring and up the ramp.

The fellow members of the BCC were waiting for them in the guerrilla, and clearly ready to go exact some much-deserved revenge.

Claudio walked over and took Mox's arm, helping Y/N hold some of his weight.

"Guys! Stop!" Y/N demands.

"We can't hurt Regal!" Bryan insists.

"He betrayed Mox! He betrayed all of us!" Wheeler yells.

"Shut up!" Y/N snaps, causing all of them to do so and look at her. "We can deal with what we're gonna do to Regal later! Now we need to get Jon to the trainer's room"

They all nod and make their way there.

Y/N and Claudio sit Mox down in a chair, and the trainers get to bandaging him up.

Y/N lets out a sigh as her eyes burned from the tears welling up.

"Are you okay?" Claudio asked her softly.

"I just... Can you guys stay here with him? I need some air" The guys nod as she rushes out of the room and into the hallway.

She leans against the wall and sniffles, a tear finally making its way down her face.

She scanned the hallway, trying to make sure no one was watching her cry.

But her eyes stop on Hook, Tyler, as he now insisted she call him.

He was further down the hallway, watching her with sympathetic eyes.

She attempted to smile at him, but she knew he saw right through it.

He looked back down at his phone, and Y/N understood why when her's buzzed in her pocket.

Are you ok?

Not really

Meet me at my hotel room, 189

Thank you Tyler

Of course mamas🧡

Tyler grinned when he saw a tiny smile form on her face. She loved being called that, and he loved watching her face turn pink and bashful every time.

But then Claudio walked out of the room, and Tyler quickly looked away before he got caught staring.

Little did either of them know that Claudio saw through the window of the door before he ever walked out of the room. But he waited to walk out to let them have a moment.

"Is there anything I can do to cheer you up Y/N?" Claudio asked.

"Could you, maybe, take me to get ice cream?" Y/N hesitantly asked.

But all Claudio did was laugh and nod. "Your wish is my command"

Later that night, Y/N approached Tyler's hotel room nervously, and when she got to the door she almost turned around.

But Tyler, who kept checking the peephole every few minutes, saw her approach and opened the door. "Hey"

"Hi" she replies nervously, a hesitant smile on her face.

"Come in" Tyler opens the door wider, and Y/N walks in and sits down on the bed.

Tyler sits down next to her, nerves coursing through his mind. He wasn't sure how to comfort her, but he damn sure was gonna try. "How are you feeling?"

"Terrible" Y/N answers honestly. "Hanging out with Claudio helped some though. And Jon.. he doesn't want to talk to anyone right now"

"I'm sorry" Tyler says softly, and places his hand on her thigh. "I'm sure he just needs a little time after everything"

"Yeah" Y/N huffs angrily.

She abruptly stands up and starts pacing back and forth. "That bastard screwed him! He betrayed all of us! Just threw us away like we were nothing!"

Unsure of what to do, Tyler sat and watched as she paced and yelled. His eyes stayed trained on her, listening intently to every word while simultaneously trying to ignore the incoming thoughts about how sexy she looked while angry.

"After everything, he just turned on us like it was the easiest thing in the world. Made us all trust and love him and then he shows his true colors. A sneaky little SNAKE is all he is" Y/N seethes. "When I get my hands on him I'm going to rip him into little pieces. I'm gonna leave him a beaten bloody pulp!"

"If you did that you'd never forgive yourself" Tyler interjects.

Y/N's head snaps over to him. "What do you know?! The only thing I regret is stopping Claudio and Wheeler from going out there and giving him exactly what he deserves tonight!"

"No you don't" Tyler insists. "You say all this now, but when it came down to it tonight you didn't let them do anything. Because you care too much about Regal despite what he did"

Y/N stops pacing, and a glare forms on her face. "Are you trying to make me feel better?!"

"Yes" Tyler replies quickly, suddenly scared of the glare that was now directed at him.

"And that's supposed to help?!" Y/N exclaims.

"I... I don't know.." Tyler trails off nervously as she begins pacing much quicker this time.

"Yes! Obviously I still care about Regal! But it's not like I want to! It's not like that's by choice! Do you think I want to still give a damn about that snake?! He's the reason my brother isn't the world champion anymore!"

Y/N suddenly stops pacing and just stares at the wall for a moment.

Tyler stands up, and slowly approaches her. He wraps his arms around her from behind in a hug. She leans back into him as he rests his cheek on top of her head.

"Why.. why do I still care about him?" She mumbles, and the sadness in her voice was enough to make Tyler want to punch Regal himself.

"Because you are such a caring and loving person" he answers, and places a kiss on the top of her head. "You are so in tune with your emotions, and because of that you love so deeply, and it's not easy for your love to break"

Y/N is silent for a second. "How do I stop being like that?"

"You don't" Tyler immediately answers. "It's what makes you, you. No one wants you to let that go. You wouldn't be you anymore"

"But it hurts so bad" she whispers miserably, tears beginning to fall down her cheeks again. She had lost count of how many times she cried that night.

"You're my strong girl" Tyler says, giving her a squeeze. "You'll be okay. Yes, it hurts right now. But I know you'll be okay"

A small smile makes its way onto her face, her mind now distracted by his use of the phrase ‘my strong girl’ instead of ‘a strong girl’, and she turns around in Tyler's arms. "Thank you"

He smiles back, and pecks her cheek. "Of course"

"I'm sorry for snapping at you" Y/N apologizes, placing her hands on either side of his face.

Tyler turns his head and kisses her palm, before smiling down at her. "It's okay, I understand"

"You're my knight in shining armor" she giggles, and he laughs too.

"Could I have orange armor?" He asks, and they both laugh again.

"Absolutely" she agrees, a smile growing on her face that finally reaches her eyes.

The two gaze into each other's eyes, soaking in the moment with happy grins.

"You are beautiful" he says softly.

"Thank you" Y/N replies. "You're pretty handsome yourself"

"Can I kiss you?" Tyler breathes out, his grip on her waist tightening nervously.

But she just rubs her thumbs back and forth against his cheeks. "Yes"

He wastes no time after that, and leans down to press his lips against her's.

It was short, but sweet and passionate. Everything you could hope for in a first kiss.

"He didn't ask me to be his girlfriend that night though" Y/N smiles. "He didn't want our anniversary to also be the anniversary of Regal betraying us. He said it wouldn't make for the happiest of celebrations"

Claudio chuckles and nods. "He was right about that"

"He waited a few days, and he took me out to dinner. Then to a random little park, and asked me to be his girlfriend there. It was so sweet. He gave me this that night too" She pulls a necklace out from under her shirt.

Claudio reached over and held the charm in between his fingers. It was a heart, with a pearl charm next to it on the chain, and the letter T was engraved on the heart. "It's beautiful"

"I know" Y/N grins. "I need to remember to not tuck it under my shirt. I'm just so used to hiding it from Jon"

The two chuckle at that, before Claudio says "I don't think that's necessary anymore. He definitely knows about you two"

"What if someone comes in?" Y/N rushes out as Tyler pins her against the wall of the trainer's room.

"They won't. The trainers are in the locker room tonight because of the renovations in here. Everyone knows that” Tyler replies against her neck, before he resumes placing kisses up and down it.

Y/N bites her lip as she runs her fingers through his hair, savoring the feeling of his body pressed against hers. "But Jon will be looking for me soon"

"Shh, it'll be fine mamas" That was all it took for her to nod, and stop worrying about her brother.

She smiled as his lips trailed up her neck and eventually connected with hers. She felt him smile into the kiss too, and give her ass a squeeze.

"We've checked everywhere but here Clau-"

Y/N pushed Tyler away as fast as possible, but it was way too late.

Mox had burst into the room, despite Claudio's best efforts to stop him. Claudio had seen Y/N slip into this room, and then saw Tyler sneak in a few minutes later.

And he didn't want Mox to kill Tyler.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Mox exclaims, and if looks could kill Tyler would have been dead on the spot.

"Let's not overreact" Claudio grabbed Mox's shoulders in an attempt to defuse the situation. "Let's give them some privacy-"

"Privacy was the issue!" Mox screams, before brushing Claudio off and stomping towards Tyler who quickly backs up. "You think you can put your hands on my sister and get away with it?!"

"Jon!" Y/N yells, stepping in between him and Tyler. "I don't need your permission to be with someone! I'm not a child anymore! And you don't get to treat me like one!"

Mox stares over his sister's head, directly into Tyler's eyes for a few moments, before looking down at her. "How long has this been going on?"

"A few months" she answers honestly. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you, Jon. But I wanted my boyfriend in one piece"

Mox huffs, before taking a few steps back and crossing his arms.

Tyler, who had been standing silent this whole time in an attempt to not further anger Mox, placed his hand on the small of Y/N's back.

"He makes you happy?" Mox asks, and Y/N immediately nods. "Yes. Very much so"

Y/N's eyes flicker over to Claudio's, who sends her a sympathetic smile before walking over to grab Mox's shoulders. "Come on, let's leave them alone and you and Y/N can talk privately later"

Mox sends one more glare over to Tyler before letting Claudio practically drag him out of the room.

Y/N lets out a sigh before turning to face Tyler. "I am so sorry for that"

"Don't be sorry mamas" he replies, putting his hands on her hips and pulling her towards him.

Y/N leans her head against his chest as he rubs his thumbs back and forth on her hips.

"It was kinda my fault anyway. I am the one who dragged your cute little ass in here" Tyler grins, before reaching around and grabbing her ass.

Y/N rolls her eyes. "It didn't take long for you to get back in the mood. Need I remind you my brother just almost beat you to death?"

Tyler pretends to think for a moment, before resting his forehead against her's. "I can't really remember that. Not while I have this gorgeous girl in front of me"

"You're so cheesy" Y/N giggles before pressing a kiss to his jaw.

"Only for you, and you love it" Tyler retorts with a grin, before kissing her jaw in return.

The Y/N and Claudio sit in silence for a moment, before Claudio speaks up. "Do you ever regret leaving?"

Y/N thinks for a second. "I regret that the situation happened. But it did, and there's nothing we can do about it. So no, I don't"

Y/N trudged through backstage with a frown on her face.

She didn't relish having to deal with Wheeler Yuta for yet another night.

And tonight was going to be especially bad, because tonight there was a parking lot match between the best friends and the BCC.

Y/N would have never told anyone, except Tyler of course, but she didn't like the way her teammates were acting.

The only person in the best friends that really did anything wrong to Wheeler was Trent, but here they were trying to destroy all of them. When they were already destroyed by the sadness of Wheeler leaving them.

Y/N almost cried at ringside during the match between Mox and Wheeler and the best friends. Watching Wheeler pin Chuck with the very pin he taught him how to do made her stomach twist into knots.

After that she started thinking about how their group acted as a whole, and how everyone was scared of her. It made her sad when she tried to be friends with people but they were too scared because of her being in the BCC.

And it seemed Orange Cassidy had started realizing that Y/N wasn't down with all of the BCC's actions.

Because as Y/N walked down the hallway, he stepped out in front of her. "Hey"

"Hi" she replies simply. Not saying anything more, but not trying to leave either.

"I noticed you seemed to.. hesitate last week when your teammates started with us" Orange says.

"I did" Y/N nods.

"Why?" Orange asks.

Y/N thinks for a moment. "Because I think the way they've been treating you is messed up. And I don't really like Wheeler"

Orange chuckles at the latter comment. "Yeah"

"Mhm" Y/N nods.

"Would you consider, maybe like, switching sides?" Orange purposes.

Y/N is quiet for a few seconds. She had thought about it, and to be completely honest, it sounded like a nice change. "Would I get to be on the t-shirt?"

Orange laughs at that before nodding. "Yeah"

"Then I'll definitely consider it" Y/N pats him on the shoulder before continuing her walk down the hallway.

"Cool" Orange nods before continuing on his way too.

Y/N wanted to run to Tyler and ask him what he thought about the offer. But at the same time, she knew it needed to be her decision and not influenced by anyone else.

Being a part of something where people would like her instead of fear her was a very tempting offer. She wasn't like her brother in that way, she didn't like people scrambling out of the way every time she walked down the hall.

It didn't make her feel powerful, it made her feel sad.

Y/N was practically stumbling over herself when she bursted into the best friends' locker room after the parking lot fight.

She was holding 4 first aid kits, as many as she could carry at once, and was out of breath from running.

"Are you guys okay?!" She exclaims, dropping the kits on the ground to run over to Orange and examine his face.

"Why do you care?" Trent grumbles.

"She's cool guys" Orange says before sending her a weak smile. "I'm fine Y/N"

"I'm so sorry they did this to you guys" Y/N breathes out. "I should have done something"

"Nah, I'm glad you didn't" Orange replies. "That probably would have just pissed Mox off more; he woulda just given us a worse beat down"

"So, are you on our side now or something?" Chuck asks.

"I.." Y/N trails off. "I'm not one hundred percent sure yet. It's not easy to think about leaving my brother but, I think I will"

Orange pats her on the shoulder. "We get it. It shouldn't be easy to leave the people you care about. That would make you like Yuta"

His comment makes everyone chuckle.

"And Trent?" Y/N says, making the man in question look over at her. "I need your help with something"

"Why the hell would you buy Trent's mother a new car?!"

Y/N rolls her eyes as her brother yells at her.

She was in the BCC's locker room, the entire team in attendance for Mox to scold her.

"I can buy whoever I like, whatever I'd like to" Y/N says firmly. "It's none of your damn business what I do"

"Yes it is, I'm your brother" Mox says through gritted teeth.

"Precisely!" Y/N stands up and crosses her arms. "You are my brother, not my boss! You think you get to decide what I do, and that all of my actions need to be pre-approved by you. But they don't!"

"Why do you even care about Trent’s mother?!” Wheeler snaps. “You know what they did to me-“

“They didn’t do shit to you Wheeler!” Y/N finally screams what she had been thinking for weeks. “Boo hoo, Trent was mean to you. But nothing that happened warrants the way you go after them!”

Then she grabbed her bag and stormed out of the room, brushing past the camera guy who was sitting outside of the room eavesdropping.

“So you’re on their side now?!” Wheeler yells, chasing after her.

“I’m not on yours!” She retorts.

Of course it was at that moment the rest of the BCC caught up with them. And then the best friends came running down the hall after hearing the yelling.

“Are you okay Y/N?” Chuck asks, placing his hand on her shoulder.

“Fuck off” Bryan snaps at him, but Y/N sends him a glare. “You fuck off”

“You know what?!” She screams, staring at her former teammates. “You can ALL fuck off! I’m done with you Wheeler! I’m done with running around behind you all like a puppet! I’m done with everyone being scared of me! And I’m done with the BCC!”

With that, she runs down the hallway with tears streaming down her face.

She gets to Tyler’s dressing room and knocks timidly on the door.

After a moment the door opens to reveal just the man she was looking for.

She immediately ran into his arms, hugging him around his waist and crying into his chest.

Tyler quickly closed the door, before guiding her to sit down on the couch. Where he pulled her onto his lap and held her as she cried. “Hey... it’s okay”

“No, it’s not” Y/N sniffles. “I just couldn’t take it anymore. I couldn’t take Wheeler, or- or the fighting, I-“

“Shh” Tyler gently shushes her. He wipes her tears away with the sleeves of his hoodie, before placing a chaste kiss on her temple. “I understand. But right now I need you to calm down. Can you do that for me babygirl?”

Y/N just nods in reply, and curls back into his chest.

The two sit in silence as Tyler places another kiss on her head and rubs his hand up and down her back.

“I love you” Y/N breathes out.

Tyler smiles softly. “I love you too”

Y/N sends Claudio a weak smile. “I really do miss you, Claudio. You’re my best friend. I just need to make sure you know that”

Claudio smiles back. “You’re my best friend too”

“And out of respect for you, I’ll do my best to stay out of the issues between Tyler and Wheeler. You know I stay out of your issues with the best friends. I don’t want to fight you guys. But Tyler’s a different situation. And I will only put up with so much”

Claudio listens intently as she stares directly into his eyes for the last sentence. “So you better either put him in check, or prepare him to deal with me”

Claudio nods. “I understand”

“You don’t have to come out there”

Y/N sighs at Orange’s words.

Her, Orange, and Tyler were walking down the hallways towards her dressing room. Tyler had his arm around her shoulders, and she was close to his side while Orange was walking beside her.

“But shouldn’t I? I don’t want anyone thinking I’m not 100% in your corner” she says.

“None of us care what anybody else thinks” Tyler replies. “We know you’re behind us mamas. But we also know it isn’t easy watching us fight your brother. And no one will judge you for that”

“What he said” Orange nods.

Y/N smiles, and leans up to kiss Tyler’s cheek. “Thanks you guys”

Y/N didn’t want to go out there.

She had avoided the BCC successfully since she left; she even managed to control herself enough to stay backstage at Wembley.

But watching Wheeler seatbelt lock Tyler, and then Mox start ripping into Orange about how he ‘ain’t shit’?

Well, that was simply too much for her to take lying down.

And for the first time in weeks, Mox paused when he heard his sister’s music hit.

She stormed down the ramp, and her glare somehow got stronger when Wheeler slid out of the ring.

He smirked, and made a mocking motion for her to get closer.

But his laughing stopped when she stepped right up to him, so close that their chests were touching.

“You have two seconds to quit that childish shit before I teach you a lesson” she deadpanned.

“What lesson would that be?” Wheeler challenges.

“What it feels like to get your teeth knocked out”

“Hey, hey, hey!” Mox climbs out of the ring and starts to walk over to them.

“Run off little gir-“

Wheeler didn’t even get to finish his sentence before Y/N’s closed fist connected with his mouth.

Wheeler fell backward, and Y/N jumped on top of him.

The crowd cheered as she rained punches down on him.

But then she was pulled off of Wheeler, and she yanked herself out of the person’s grip.

She whipped around and came face to face with her brother.

But she didn’t do what Mox expected her to. Her glare didn’t soften, and her fist didn’t open. Instead, she pushed him, making him stumble backward.

“Don’t put your fucking hands on me!” She screamed.

Then Claudio came sprinting down the ramp, and immediately put his hands on Y/N’s shoulders, stopping her from advancing towards Mox. “Hey, let’s all take a step back”

“You all take a fucking step back!” Y/N demands, ripping herself away from his grasp.

“Or what?!” Wheeler, who had just pulled himself up, yells.

“OR THIS!” Y/N screams, grabbing a steel chair and swinging at him.

Claudio yanked Wheeler back just in time, and pulled him further up the ramp. “Okay! We’re going Y/N! We’re going!”

Y/N held tightly onto the chair as she watched the three men retreat up the ramp, and didn’t let go until they had gone through the tunnels and were out of her sight.

She let out a breath, and dropped the chair to run over to Tyler. “Baby? Are you okay?”

“I’m good” he breathes out, pulling himself up.

Once he’s up he pulls her into his arms. “Are you okay after all that?”

“I’m fine” she answers, holding onto him tightly. “You’re not mad at me?”

“No” Tyler says with a little smile. “I’m not thrilled; you could have gotten hurt. But I can’t deny that you handled yourself. And I’m glad you got some good hits in on Yuta”

That makes them both chuckle, and Y/N pulls away enough to look at him. “I love you”

“I love you too” he grins, and they laugh into their kiss as the crowd pops around them.

They pull away after a moment, and they walk over to Orange.

“Are you okay hon?” Y/N asks, kneeling next to him.

“Yeah” he shrugs.

Y/N shakes her head at his monotone answer, but wraps her arms around him to help him up nonetheless.

Tyler helps pull Orange up, and the three walk out together with their heads held high.

Y/N had strolled down the hallways of the arena the next week with her chin up.

Tyler had won his match against Rocky Romero, and her best friend Kris Statlander had beaten Diamante.

And now after all that Y/N was curled up with Tyler in her dressing room watching Shibata fight Wheeler.

Tyler had his arm around her, and she had her head laid against his chest as she fidgeted with the rings he had on his free hand.

Tyler leaned down to place a kiss on her temple.

She smiled up at him and returned a peck on his cheek.

“You think Shibata’s got this, right?” He asks.

“Definitely” Y/N immediately answers. “He’s a much better wrestler than Wheeler”

But Y/N’s eyes widen when Wheeler throws Shibata into the ref, and then hits him with a low blow while the ref can't see.

“Are you fucking joking?!” Y/N fumes as Wheeler DDTs Shibata right on his head and gets the pin.

And as if that wasn’t bad enough, Shibata still tries to shake Wheeler’s hand. But Wheeler just low blows him again and hits him with another DDT.

Tyler jumps up and goes storming out of the room, Y/N quickly following him.

Y/N was ahead of Tyler by the time they were going down the ramp, jogging down it and right at Wheeler.

She picked up a chair on her way, and stared Wheeler down as Tyler climbed into the ring to check on Shibata.

Tyler didn’t even feel the need to watch his back, he knew Y/N had him covered. So he just focused on making sure Shibata was okay.

Y/N kept her eyes locked on Wheeler as he retreated up the ramp, paying no mind to the belt he was holding up.

She only looked away once he got to the top, and was more occupied with taunting the judges who watched him cheat.

She rolled into the ring, and grabbed one of Shibata’s hands. “Are you okay? Your neck is good?”

He nods in reply, sending her a weak smile.

Y/N and Tyler exchange looks, and they can both see the anger behind the other’s eyes.

Tyler walked into the hotel’s gym at 3 AM, still feeling half asleep.

He had woken up, and Y/N was no longer asleep next to him. He knew that she had a lot of pent up energy from all of the anger, and that there was one place she’d go to get it out.

He was proved right when he found her beating the hell out of a punching bag.

Being in the BCC had taught her a lot of things, some good and some bad. And some walked the line right between.

Y/N had learned to take her anger out in violence. She didn’t really know any other way.

She wanted to get her hands on Wheeler and rip him apart.

“Hey”

Y/N pauses when she hears his voice.

She takes in deep breaths as she catches the punching bag, stopping it from swinging. “Hi”

Tyler walks over with her water bottle, holding it up for her to drink.

“Why are you awake?” She asks him through deep breaths.

“I missed you” he smiles, causing her to smile back.

“Sorry” she says.

“Don’t apologize” Tyler shakes his head. “I understand”

“He just gets under my skin like nobody else. And TK won’t let me have an intergender match” she huffs.

Tyler laughs. “I should have known you would ask”

Y/N shrugs. “Wheeler would probably refuse anyway”

“Of course he would” Tyler laughs. “He knows you’d beat his ass”

Y/N laughs too. “Hell yeah I would”

“You should get some sleep though mamas” Tyler wraps his arms around her waist. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of Wheeler”

Y/N couldn’t help but smirk at the dark tone that overtook his voice. “Yeah?”

“You know I will” he replies gruffly.

Y/N’s smirk grows as she looks up at him, and places a kiss on his lips.

Tyler kisses back, and tightens his grip on her.

He pulls away and grins at her. “Consider it a Christmas present”

Y/N laughs at that. “I’ll only consider it that if you let me get a few hits in”

“I think you have gotten more than enough hits in” Tyler chuckles. “His mouth probably still hurts”

“I hope it does” Y/N shrugs. “That was just a warning”

#aew #aew hook #hook aew #aew hook x reader #hook aew x reader #hook x reader #hook imagine #send hook #aew x reader #aew fanfiction

323 notes · View notes

albatmobile · 5 months

Text

parent teacher conferences and other places to meet a pornstar pt. 2

[1] [2] [3] coming soon: [4] || ao3

𓅪 Rated: E | 8k includes: cam girl AU, teacher AU, masturbation, public sex, caught, fingering, voyeurism, come swallowing, facial, deep throating misunderstandings, confessions

𓅪 cam girl fem!reader x jason todd, cam girl fem!reader x roy harper, cam girl fem!reader x jason todd x roy harper

After your wild night out, you’re not expecting to be approached by Roy- Mr. Harper, you correct yourself.

“It doesn’t feel right with me knowing,” he says, clearly panicked when he paces into your classroom as soon as you open the door for him.

“Well, hello to you too, Mr. Harper,” you say. You rub at your temple, feeling a headache stirring.

You follow behind his quick gate, stopping yourself just barely from laughing as he plops into the small kid chair that sits in front of your desk. You move to sit behind your desk, noting how you’re suddenly an inch or so taller than him in your position.

You’re wearing a tight, white v-neck, long sleeve bodysuit over top form-fitting professional pants, red heels and your signature glasses. The low-cut top leaves Mr. Harper at eye level with your lofty cleavage, something he evidently becomes distracted by. He shakes himself from it quickly enough, though, to focus back on your confused face.

He seems to disregard your words as if too lost in his own head.

“I’m sorry,” he finally says. His guilty green eyes peer up at you.

“For…?”

You’re quickly losing patience and he’s quickly losing confidence.

“I didn’t mean anything by it,” he begins quickly. “The tip was a mistake. I was going back and forth on it, but again, I seriously didn’t mean anything by it and I-”

“Mean anything by what?” This dude is not making a lick of sense. What tip?

His eyes search yours for something, but you only offer him confusion in return. He seems to notice and continues on with his ramblings, “I swear I didn’t know it was you at first. Once, I did I just-" He continues to babble and you find yourself tuning him out.

Your hair keeps falling in your face and this is already the second time you’ve pushed it back behind your ear but it’s obvious it won’t cooperate. Maybe if you’d been paying more attention, you’d notice the way Mr. Harper’s eyes linger on the hair tie you have around your lithe fingers. Maybe you’d even notice how he trails off, mouth agape as you tie your hair up and out of the way.

When you go to stand to put an end to this, he pops up as well and it’d be hard not to notice his-

“Mr. Harper,” you trail off uncomfortably as you eye the growing situation in his pants. You can’t help but be reminded of the voyeur in the alley last night. “What exactly’s going on here?”

He quickly grabs a folder off your desk to cover himself, something you grant him the consideration of ignoring as you edge closer to the door.

“Jesus.” Mr. Harper uses his free hand to run a terse hand through his fiery locks. “I’m not trying to- Look. I just,” he trails off in frustration. “I know what you do,” he says, sounding the calmest he's been ever since this weird conversation started.

You freeze, hand on the door as you face the disheveled man in front of you. You don’t necessarily think he poses a threat, but you don’t fucking know and he obviously knows what you are.

Knows what you do.

You’re fucked. You’re fired. Sayonara, bitch- that’s how this always ends.

You mentally prepare yourself for the tough road ahead, figuring ending this conversation is the first step to fucking moving on, but he won’t even grant you mercy.

“Then say it,” you urge defensively, hand curling more around the handle with each passing second.

“avid_reader,” he says, watching as your hand tightens around the door handle.

You’re debating just leaving him there in your classroom, but your shit is all still on your desk. You probably should leave him in here and go get help, but you don’t. What would you even say, anyway? “Hey, I’m a cam model on the side and this dude who jacks it to me just figured everything out. Please help?” Yeah, that’s not going to work.

Instead, you stand there feeling tidal waves of embarrassment and anxiety washing down on you.

“You’re not the first person to figure it out,” you say. The words snap out of your mouth before you can stop them. You cross your arms across your chest as a means of comfort, but it only puffs out your cleavage even further. You sigh, dropping your arms as you approach the redhead. You don’t mean to but you stop closer to the man than you’d meant, leaving him to back against the desk behind him as you continue forward. “If you want to transfer Lian, I understand,” you offer, but he’s already shaking his head, eyebrows furrowed like you’ve got the wrong idea. Regardless of his reaction, you continue. “Just please don’t tell,” you plead with him. “I can’t afford to lose this job again.”

He looks completely stupefied by how this is unfolding.

You half expect him just to walk out the door as you’d planned to do, not even seconds prior, but he doesn’t. If anything, he seems relieved (?) by your reaction.

“Why do you even need the side job?” Out of all the things to come from his mouth, you’re definitely not expecting that.

“Technically, if we’re talking pay, this is my side job,” you respond, gesturing to the classroom around you halfheartedly. “35k a year doesn’t exactly pay bills, or well, much of anything at all,” you snort humorlessly. “Again, I totally understand if you want to transfer Lian, though.”

Mr. Harper’s mind still looks like it’s reeling from the reveal and his dick still obviously is, too, as it remains half-mast. His voice is gruff as he stares down at your smaller form. Even though he’s the one being cornered, you still somehow feel like the prey.

“Why would I do that?” he asks quietly.

There’s an obvious heat behind his eyes, one you’d have to be dumb not to miss. It’s clearly not escaping either of you that your close position is reminiscent of your infamous scene.

You watch as his lips open, then close as if debating whether or not to take it further. His eyes are half-lidded, almost like he’s high on your presence alone.

He gulps, watching your eyes trail across his every minute reaction as if it might stop at any second.

It has to stop.

It’s one thing to be a cam girl and it’s another to suck off one of the parents in the classroom. Yup, nope. Not doing it. However, you grant him the satisfaction of staying a finger-width away from his chest for just a moment longer.

You sigh, “I don’t have time for this superfluous conversation, Mr. Harper.” You give him as stern of a look as you can manage.

“Damn, you’re killin’ me here, babe- Miss,” he says your name again and watch as his breathing sputters under your slitted gaze.

“It’s best we keep this completely professional. Just because I…” you trail off, knowing he gets the point. “Doesn’t mean we can ignore the circumstances I’m under. I really care about these kids and I wouldn’t want anything to jeopardize this position.”

You know he’s holding off on a comment about the position you’re both currently in in favor of backing away in understanding.

“Totally got you. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable at all.”

You sigh in relief. Out of all the confrontations you’ve had about this topic, this has definitely been the easiest. Dare you say that Mr. Harper even seemed like a pretty cool dude. If you weren’t his daughter’s teacher, you’d definitely-

No, you can’t allow yourself to think like that.

“Thank you for, you know,” you hesitate, “not ratting me out.”

“Never,” he assures you with the most seriousness he’s displayed since you’ve met him.

You move, opening the door for him and getting blasted by whatever delicious cologne he’s wearing as you see him out.

He hesitates as if he wants to say something, but you beat him to the punch.

“Have a good day, Mr. Harper,” you say, granting him a small, genuine smile before shutting the door behind you.

You know he hasn’t moved and you know he knows you haven’t moved. The two of you stand there on either side of the door reveling in the last dregs of whatever the fuck that conversation constituted as.

Finally, you hear the tell-tale sign of his sneakers squeaking against the linoleum and you finally allow your heels to clack back over to your desk. You slump in your chair, head in your hand, wondering what the fuck you’ve just gotten yourself into.

➸💋➸

You received your annual invite to the Wayne Holiday Gala months ago, though you honestly had considered not coming this year. However, after your run-ins with Jason, you decide to show up.

You end up spending most of the night with the kids in the daycare area. As unappetizing as it may sound to some, making small talk with the stuffy Gotham elites in the other room definitely sounds like the shittier end of the bargain.

You’re in the middle of a makeover session, which seems to involve a lot of poking and pulling when you hear it.

“Oh, no fucking way.” Your body stiffens at the familiar voice. “This is so rich.”

“Mr. Harper,” you say without turning around. You thank the little kids around you for the glitter bomb they’ve set off on you as you rise. Your form-fitting, high-slitted dress unfurls as you do so, revealing the extravagance of your gown (x).

He cleans up very nice.

You try to hide how you check him out, but it doesn’t seem to matter too much as he’s preoccupied with raking his eyes up and down your curves. You watch as his freckled cheeks turn red.

“How’d you know?” His voice is extra scratchy tonight and it’s doing things to you.

“You’re the only one of my parents who curses like a sailor no matter who’s in the room,” you explain. At this, you gesture down to the kids who’ve made you look like you’re going to Coachella rather than a gala.

The little girl closest to you keeps trying to tug at your hair, but Mr. Harper sits down and offers her his long locks in your stead.

“Are you,” he trails off, looking away from your eyes to fiddle with his black tie. “Is it okay that I sit here with you?”

It’s a vulnerable question after the clear shift after he approached you in your classroom all those weeks ago.

“I don’t own the place,” you say with a shrug as you sit back down with crossed legs beside him. “So, what are you doing here tonight?”

“My friend’s back in town and said he might be here tonight, so,” he trails off as he motions to his cornflower blue tux. It’s fucking ugly as shit and, somehow, it couldn’t look better on the muscular man.

“Where’s Lian?” you ask, blushing as soon as you realize you’ve asked.

Roy, however, seems pleased by your question. He points over to the other side of the room where she’s playing some combo of hide-and-seek and tag with a group of kids.

“She loves these kinds of things,” he says. “She wouldn’t let me miss out once she heard we’d been invited,” Lian catches your eye and waves excitedly before she’s pulled back into the game. “What about you?”

His voice lulls you into an easy smile. “Didn’t expect to see me here?” you tease.

“I didn’t say that,” he jests back as he tries to navigate the minefield that is this conversation. “You look good,” he says finally, though his eyes are forcibly focused on Lian.

You follow along as she gets chased around to avoid being tagged. The smile that’s adorned your face ever since he came in the room has yet to dull, something you’re sure he notices as his cheeks burn red.

“Thank you,” you say quietly. It’s your turn to blush when you feel his eyes finally shift back to you. You make the hard decision to focus on the kids running around rather than on his stunning, verdant eyes. “You don’t look too bad yourself.”

It seems like your words have given him the confidence to… well, you’re not exactly sure, but he definitely seems more cocky now. However, a tiny voice interrupts before he gets a chance to respond.

“Go!”

“No, you!”

Your head turns to the gaggle of well-dressed kids currently shoving each other your way.

“Excuse me!”

“Hello,” you greet them, smiling at their cute display.

“They said you’re a princess,” a small girl in a tutu says quietly as she sidles up to you. All the while, she wrings her hands behind her back as three other girls stand behind her shyly awaiting your response.

Before you can think of something to say, Roy swoops in.

“She’s 100% a princess,” Roy assures them with a playful wink sent your way. “Right, princess?”

You snort, trying not to be affected by the wink, “Right.”

You’re covered in shitty body glitter in a gown that anyone else’s here easily dwarfs. You feel far from a princess. Hell, the only reason you’d even been invited anyway had been because of your mom’s legacy.

The kids convince you to play heroes and robbers. Roy watches from the sidelines as you use a pink bow and arrow toy to stave off the waves of robbers that now includes Lian. Soon, she drags her dad to play, convinced that he needs to show you how to use the arrow for some reason.

“You’re not lining up the arrow right,” he says as he comes up to stand behind you.

“Mr. Harper,” you can hardly contain your eye roll, “it’s plastic.”

“Is this okay?” he asks as his hand hovers above your own.

Is it?

“Yeah,” you breathe before you lose the courage.

His firm chest presses against your back as he guides your hands on the bow. His soft hands trickle along your skin, effortlessly teasing you all the while.

“You know, we’re not at school,” you startle at what he murmurs against the shell of your ear. “You can just call me Roy.”

You hesitate.

Is this crossing a line?

It’s just a name, you reason before giving in. “Alright, Roy,” you appease him. You just know he’s smiling big and a curious glance behind you proves it’s even dorkier of a grin than you’d imagined. “Don’t make me regret this,” you huff, settling back around the bow with his gentle guidance.

“Never.”

You release the arrow and, for once, it actually hits the target. The kids go nuts like you’ve just told them they get candy every day forever.

This is exactly when he shows up…

“Figures I’d find the two of you here.”

You startle, turning around with the toy bow and arrow still poised in your hands to find- “Jason.”

“What’s up,” he says, looking highly amused, though his only tell is the blatant mirth behind his emerald eyes.

Roy removes himself from around your smaller form to face your friend, who also seems to know Roy.

“I thought you didn’t come to these things anymore,” Roy says, confusing you even more.

“You know Jason?” you ask the redheaded man.

Roy backs away with an unreadable gaze as he shoots back a question your way, “Have the two of you met before?” It sounds pointed, like he somehow knows you guys fucked in the alley.

Your eyes flicker over to the darker-haired gentleman, wondering if Jason didn’t want him to know. He’s smiling like he’s in on something you aren’t, though, so you take it as a sign you can divulge.

“A couple of times,” you respond nonchalantly.

“A couple of times?!” Roy repeats in disbelief, shooting Jason a look he has no choice but to laugh at. After this, Jason and Roy seem to be holding a conversation with their eyes alone.

You hand off the bow and arrow to the little girl who asks to use it before turning your attention back to the men who seem to have come to some agreement without ever having spoken.

“I should’ve known the horndog dad she was talking about was you, Harper,” Jason says. At this, you clearly appear embarrassed to have been caught talking about Roy, but Roy’s too embarrassed that his flirting’s been so obvious. “So,” he drawls with his hypnotizing deep voice, “what’ve you guys been up to?”

“Just this mostly,” you tell him, gesturing to the glitter and toys scattered around. Your heels are starting to kill your feet, so you make to sit down again.

Both men, much to your amusement, help you down before sitting beside you. The kids immediately come up and try to play with his hair like they were with you and Roy, but it’s too short. They ultimately resort to makeup and more glitter, leaving you to wonder just who the fuck was giving these kids body glitter?

The three of you amuse the kids for a bit longer before Jason signals the two of you to follow him.

Roy tells Lian he’ll be right back and to stay in the childcare area while he’s gone. You watch after the two of them, not feeling Jason’s calculating eyes on the side of your face until you turn and meet them.

“What?”

He just shakes his head with a light smirk. An attendant walks by with a fresh tray of champagne flutes and Jason asks for them to stop and takes the tray from their hands. You raise a questioning brow when he hands you one before downing a glass.

Yeah, you could stand to get fucked up.

You smile, following suit as you down the glass, then another. Soon, Roy sidles up beside you and joins in on a few. Jason easily out drinks you and you’re not trying to get to the point where you’re too drunk. Right now, you feel a pleasant, tipsy hum vibrating across your tingling skin.

Roy takes the drinks slower but still downs one or two.

By the time the three of you are done, the tray of 10 glasses is completely empty. From here, Jason takes you and Roy around the parts no one else dares venture, ultimately stumbling upon Bruce Wayne’s office.

“Holy shit,” you gasp as you walk into the ornate room.

The entire room is covered in deep, rich wood and is filled with shelves upon shelves of old-looking literature. It looks like what the two cheap sets you’ve been on were trying to emulate but could never come close to.

Your fingers trail delicately across the fabric spines of books that adorn the wall-to-wall bookshelves in appreciation.

“Yeah,” Jason says. The muscular man sidles up beside you to pull out the copy of The Happy Prince you’ve been eyeing. “Haven’t been in here since I was a kid, but it still holds up to what I remember.” He stares down at your pick before handing it off to you. You hold it delicately, something he chuckles at, “You’re not going to fuck it up; trust me, he wouldn’t notice even if you did. Old man doesn’t have time to read anymore.”

“Oh?” you respond, not quite sure what else to say.

Jason merely nods. “I used to sneak in here or the library after patro- bedtime,” he coughs as he corrects himself. “Wilde is one of my favorites.”

You feel the all-telling stare of Roy from behind where Jason has you trapped against the shelf. When you turn around, however, he pretends to be preoccupied with the random knickknacks on the desk.

“Who’s your favorite, Roy?”

He looks up from the paperweight he’s holding as if surprised to be addressed by you. “John Knowles is always good. Can’t go wrong with Ray Bradbury,” the redhead says.

You nod in approval, missing how Jason’s eyes flash mischievously as he glances between the two of you.

“A Separate Peace has always been one of my go-to’s,” you add shyly.

You don’t know what it is. Maybe it’s because you’re not at the school, maybe it’s the fact you’re far away from the party, but you actually feel nervous around Roy right now. What’s making it worse is that Jason seems to notice. Much to your chagrin, he ups the ante between the two of you as if finding amusement in seeing the two of you blush so profusely.

Jason suddenly moves from beside you and off somewhere in the corner to fiddle around with an antiqued globe. You watch, trying to ignore Roy in your peripheral, as the top half of the globe opens to reveal crystal glasses and containers.

While Jason pours the three of you more drinks, you and Roy get to talking about, well, just about everything. The cadence and ease at which the two of you switch from topic to topic is incredible. You feel like you’ve known the freckled man forever by the time Jason’s handing you a heavy, intricate glass.

You thank him, quirking a brow at his knowing smile. He just shakes his head. “You two are fucking hilarious, you know that?” Jason teases.

You don’t.

A quick look at Roy proves his confusion as well. However, one glance at his friend leads to another one of their eyes-only conversations that seems to bring Roy in on the joke. You, on the other hand, are left to flounder in front of your attractive company.

“And why is that?” you finally bite.

Roy seems content to sip at his glass with raised brows as he watches the scene unfold.

“I’m just surprised you guys haven’t up and fucked already.”

You and Roy begin sputtering at the same time. Luckily, Roy seems to gather his bearings fast enough to respond so you don’t have to make a fool of yourself.

“Jay, what?” Roy practically chokes.

You and Roy still, looking at Jason to gauge the seriousness of his words. Roy then looks down at you to judge your reaction.

You know you shouldn’t fuck him. You really shouldn’t fuck him.

You can’t fuck him, but…

“Guess it’d only be fair,” Roy snorts at Jason’s words, but you don’t understand. “I don’t mind sharing with friends.”

The three of you return to a silent stare-down of who’s going to be the first to make a move.

Fuck it. You’re tipsy and horny and there are two attractive as fuck men in front of you. This is definitely a far cry from the boring night you thought you were in for.

“Are you sure, Jason?” you finally ask.

Roy’s breath catches audibly in his throat once he realizes you’re seriously considering it. “Princess, you’ve had a lot to drink. I don’t think- I wouldn’t want you to feel like this is,” he trails off, eyes searching yours.

He’s cute and thoughtful, okay? How can you not fuck him now?

With Jason’s blessing, you push forward, corralling Roy against the desk until your chest is flush against his.

“Takes more than liquor and a few glasses of champagne to count me out, Mr. Harper,” you say, realizing too late you’ve used the wrong name, though it doesn’t seem like he minds in the slightest. “Sorry,” you start, but he cuts you off.

“Don’t be,” he bites his lip, “it’s really fucking hot.” His hands close around the mahogany desk behind him as if keeping him from ravishing you right then and there. “Gotta admit, though, it’s been a few years since I’ve done anything,” he begins the tell-tale signs of his signature rambling, but you cut him off with a deep, slow kiss. It steals the rest of the words from his mouth as your body melts against his. “You don’t care that I’m out of practice?” Roy asks vulnerably.

You slowly wipe at the spit you’ve left on his lips before allowing your eyes to flicker up and meet his. He’s already looking at you when you do like he can’t believe this is actually happening.

“Not at all,” you smirk lightly at his surprised look as you turn his words back on him, “it’s hot.”

He groans at your words as if he’s holding himself back from flipping your position and fucking you against the desk. He doesn’t, though. Roy sits back against the desk and lets you do whatever you please.

“Really?” He stares down at your wandering hands with wide, uncertain eyes.

You nod, biting at your bottom lip. “I can help you practice,” you offer salaciously.

His jaw drops and you can’t help but laugh alongside Jason.

“Can I touch you?” his deep voice rumbles across your skin, further spurring the stammering beat of your heart. You nod, but it’s not enough for him. “Tell me you want me.”

You smile up at him. “I want you, Roy,” you breathe.

“Fuck,” he moans. You watch as his dick twitches against the pants of his ugly suit. “Jay, are you sure you want to share?”

He’s sitting in the large chair behind the desk behind Roy, palming himself through his pants. “Just fuck already,” he replies darkly, voice thick with arousal.

Jason looks absolutely sinful. His thick thighs are spread temptingly in the head chair with his button-up completely unbuttoned to reveal his toned stomach. His suit jacket remains on, as well as his tie, though it’s loosened and strewn lazily across his shoulder.

Roy exhales sharply before flipping your position in the blink of an eye.

Suddenly, you’re being lifted onto the desk with Roy slotting between your thick thighs before your mouth is overtaken by his. You arch extra for Jason, who’s behind you and break away from the redhead to turn around and lean down slightly to kiss the other man.

Jason’s rough thumb runs along your jawline as he flicks his tongue teasingly against yours. Meanwhile, Roy’s hands roam your body tentatively as if he’s scared he’ll do something wrong.

“Jason,” you breathe against his soft lips as you pull apart, “tell him he’s not going to break me.”

“Tell him yourself,” Jason huffs like he can’t believe you pulled away to say that.

Soon, he’s shoving his calloused hands into your dress to cup your lofty tits and expose them to the room. You gasp, something he uses as an opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, though his hands eventually move, finding Roy’s hands and moving over top of them to sink them into your skin.

“Shit,” Roy groans as he finally allows himself to divulge in your curves. He throws off his blue suit jacket, unbuttoning the top few buttons of his dress shirt before focusing back on you. His eyes linger over your tits as if memorizing them.

It’s cute.

Your finger beckons him hither. Your half-lidded eyes slip close as two sets of hands and mouths descend upon you in all the right places.

Jason moves to stand behind you at the desk, caressing up and down your exposed skin. His mouth leaves slick kisses along your neck, stopping to suck every few seconds to draw airy moans from your plump lips. Meanwhile, Roy’s mouth attaches to your collarbone, moving lower to suck your tits into his mouth with an appreciative whine as his fingers explore lower.

“Jay,” Roy’s voice breaks, leaving you to moan in response. His fingers trickle close to the top of the slit of your dress, begging to go further. k“I don’t think she’s wearing any underwear.”

Suddenly, they’re on each other, kissing over your shoulder with a clashing of tongues and teeth. It’s aggressive and, honestly, some of the hottest shit you’ve ever seen. You spread your legs even further before allowing your fingers to trickle up to your pulsating clit, but Roy stops you.

You look at the redhead in dazed confusion, just wanting some fucking relief, but he won’t allow it. “Please,” you beg, shifting your hips flush against the bulge in his pants, but he refuses to relent. “I need you to touch me.”

“Say my name,” he says darkly, fingers hovering right above where you’re desperate for it.

You meet his wanton gaze head-on, whimpering as Jason leaves hickeys across your shoulders. You so desperately want to buck into Roy’s hand, but his firm grip on your hip prevents you from doing so.

“Roy,” you moan, using your cam voice.

He seems to notice because his resolve seems to crumble. “So good, baby,” Roy starts to ramble. “You’re so fucking sexy. You want to get fucked?”

Jason’s breathing sputters against your ear as he finally allows himself to unzip his pants. His hard member rocks against the top of your ass and lower back with his hands reaching around you to tease your nipples. You arch backward against him with a loud cry.

“Please!” You’re not even necessarily answering Roy’s question. You just need something, anything from either of them and you need it right now. You squirm in the hold, bucking and writhing for any kind of contact you can get, but both are playing hard to get.

“Should we give her what she wants, Harper?” Jason turns to Roy, ignoring your pleas completely.

You mewl when Roy finally rubs his thumb against your aching clit. However, the contact is gone as quickly as it began, leaving you just as desperate as you’ve felt this entire time.

“I don’t know, Jay,” Roy responds sadistically. “Maybe we should make her wait a little bit longer.”

If they’re going to tease you, you’re definitely willing to do the same.

If they weren’t going to touch you, you’d just have to touch them. You waste no time in latching on to Roy’s sweaty neck, nipping and sucking hickeys into his collection of freckles as you mouth along his exposed shoulders.

“How are we doing this?” Jason asks gruffly, stirring excitement in your lower stomach.

Regardless of all the talk, you know neither will be able to resist much longer.

Roy bites at his lower lip cheekily, eyes trailing down your exposed body as he considers the question. “I’m going to bend her over this desk, fuck her ass up,” Roy says. At this, the redhead gauges your reaction and, when he sees no hesitation, does just this. “Feel free to join in, I don’t care,” he says to Jason as he rubs his clothed erection against your arched ass as if testing the waters. “This alright, beautiful?”

Roy’s cock against your ass, or the dangerous look Jason has in his eyes as you come eye-level with his leaking cock.

“Answer him,” Jason demands cooly. He lifts your head with an assured grip as he draws your gaze from his twitching cock to his dark eyes.

Your body responds earnestly to all the stimulation, moaning his name with a broken, “Yes.”

The tip of Jason’s tongue pokes out to lick at his lips. You watch as his eyes flicker to Roy behind you with palpable desire as he brings his leaking tip against your pliant lips. He slips in with a groan, hands falling to the edges of the desk, curled white-knuckled to prevent himself from completely ravishing your throat right then and there.

“So good,” Jason praises. His thumb trickles at the corner of your mouth gently while his hips snap slowly but roughly into your mouth. “Now, show Roy how good you are.”

You groan around his thick cock, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he picks up the pace. At the same time, you feel Roy lining himself up with your cunt and start to suck Jason more ardently.

Roy’s cock pushes against your tight entrance, slipping in slowly with an appreciative sigh from both of you. You feel him bob up and down from within you as soon as he settles. A quick look behind you proves how his orange locks cascade deliciously in front of his flushed, freckled cheeks.

“You feel so good inside me,” you breathe. To gain more friction, you wiggle your ass around his thickness, spurring an accidental snap of his hips. The sharp momentum sends you forward into Jason, who merely cups your face and draws you up for a deep, edging-on, rough kiss that leaves you backing helplessly against Roy for relief. “Fuck!”

He finally offers it, probably knowing he wasn’t going to last for shit, anyway. The redhead’s freckled hands caress and spread your cheeks as he sputters out uncoordinated, breathy thrusts into your tight heat. All the while, he spews the absolute most obscene things you’ve ever heard. Roy wraps your hair around his hand, forcing the rhythm on Jason’s dick as he fucks into you with reckless abandon. This only lasts for so long before you feel the shakiness in his thrusts.

“Jason,” Roy calls out from behind, “I need to tap for a second.”

Jason merely rolls his eyes, drawing you from his cock to his mouth for a lewd, terse kiss that leaves you breathless. You watch as his muscular form moves around the desk to settle behind you by Roy.

“You still good with this?” Jason asks, still a way back from your ass that’s arched over the desk.

You look at him from over your shoulder with a playful glint behind your eyes. “Just fuck me already, Jason.” Jason wastes no time in pushing his tip into your tight heat. He remains like this, creating lewd noises as his tip bobs shallowly in and out of your slick cunt. “Please,” you beg after he continues like this for another beat. “I need you deeper. Jay, please!”

He chuckles darkly, “Well, since you asked so nicely.”

It’s all the warning you get before he pushes into you fully. He remains seated as you squirm against the large intrusion, with desperate gasps and moans spilling from you as you do.

Jason’s thrusts start out innocent enough, exploratory in a sense. They soon grow more desperate and harsher as he responds to the wanton cries you produce each time he bottoms out inside you.

Soon, Roy’s tapping back in and the fun truly begins.

That’s how you end up bent over the desk in your dress and heels, holding on to the edge of the desk for dear life as both men take turns fucking in and out of you. It’s completely sadistic how they use your body just the way you need, drawing noises and reactions from you that you’ve never experienced before. If this had been a stream, you know you’d rake in a record amount of tips- how could you not when you looked this wrecked?

You see yourself in the window in front of you, staring at your tits as they bounce in time with the varied thrusts. Eventually, they seem to catch on to what you’re doing and meet your unfocused gaze in the reflection as they make a mess of you.

“Shit,” Jason groans when his tip catches against your entrance as he slows down the pace once again to tease you. It works. You’re left mewling and bucking helplessly against his firm grip that keeps you in place from doing so.

Roy decides he wants you to get a taste of him and take the position Jason had earlier for you to suck him into your mouth. His member is slick and tastes like your pussy, only serving to make you moan wantonly against his thickness. The vibrations only amplify when Jason smacks your cheeks in quick succession, then moves to cradle and soothe them.

You feel completely and utterly used.

Soon, Roy’s breathing sputters in just a way that Jason knows to pull out. He begins to jack off over your jiggling ass as Roy slips inside of you once again. Their lips connect and you watch their sensual kiss through the reflection on the glass as you feel pressure mounting within you.

Your tongue lulls out without you even realizing it.

Jason, however, does.

“Two guys in your pussy isn’t enough for you?” Jason questions darkly as he makes eye contact with you. “You need a cock in your mouth, too?” You bite at your bottom lip, giving him all the answers he needs. “Tell me where you need me.”

Like he doesn’t already know.

“I need your cock shoved down my throat,” you say, panting lightly. The entire time, you maintain eye contact through the reflection in the window as you respond coquettishly. “Will you fuck my throat, Jason?”

“Say please,” he retorts in a dangerous voice that leaves you bucking back against Roy’s dick with a breathy moan.

“Please, Jason?”

“Good girl.” With this, Jason complies easily, choking you with his length as he thrusts against your pliant lips.

Roy doesn’t last much longer after you beg Jason to fuck your throat again.

“Fucking, damnit,” Roy curses, pulling out of you before you can even comprehend what’s happening. “Man, what the fuck?”

You pull off Jason’s cock with a lewd ‘pop’ as you look over your shoulder.

Roy’s got one hand cupped under his dick to collect his come, with the other running aggravatedly through his hair. It’s definitely not the ending you were expecting and you can’t help but laugh. He’s such a fucking loser and it’s only making you more and more attracted to him for some reason.

“Yeah, that’s what everyone wants to hear from a pornstar they bang,” he grumbles, though his words only make you laugh harder. He smacks you lightly on the hip, motioning for you to turn over so you can press your bare body into his firm chest. “Give me a sec, babe. I’ve got you.

“I’m actually quite flattered to be called me a pornstar,” you jest as you wiggle into the new position.

“Well, what would you consider yourself?”

“A random bitch who does porn.” He looks at you like you’re insane. “Your video got in the fucking tens of millions, dude.”

He draws another easy laugh from you, “'Dude’ is seriously what you’re calling me right now?”

“No,” he starts lowly, “but feel free to start calling me Mr. Harper more often.”

At this, his dick slightly twitches back to life, leaving you to roll your eyes. However, you gasp when he drops to a crouch, now eye-level with your pulsating cunt and inadvertently attempt to close your legs, but he won’t allow it. He pries your thick legs open with greedy eyes and a firm grip, preventing you from shutting them again.

You groan, arching against his restraint in anticipation of what’s to come.

Jason runs a calloused hand through your hair that’s splayed out across his father’s paperwork. He then collects as much of your hair as he can and grips it, using the hold to force your head back onto his dick. His one hand remains in your hair while the other trails down from your tits to rub at your clit.

Your appreciative moans vibrate around his large member, drawing the most erotic noises you’ve ever heard from the man.

Roy’s tongue finally trickles out, teasing you with light licks along your folds, then pressured kisses to your inner thighs.

“‘M so fucking lucky, babe,” the redhead groans against your cunt as he finally picks up the pace. Roy’s tongue seems to know all the right places and all the right pressure to get you bucking against his smirking mouth. “I’ve dreamed about this shit.” He meets your half-lidded gaze as he licks a long, thick trail from your entrance up to your clit. “Fucking you just like this, getting to taste your sweet little pussy,” he says. As if to prove his point, he mouths along your cunt, slurping your juices into his already dripping mouth. “Forced me to sleep in underwear so I don’t have to change my sheets every night, princess.”

“Roy,” you moan. You can’t help but push further against his tongue, hips sputtering against his skillful appendage for more. Your head falls backward, taking Jason back into your mouth with a forcefulness that has him tightening the grip in your hair.

“That’s right, baby,” he growls. “Say my name just like that.”

He eats you out, only removing his mouth to shove a finger inside of you when you’re getting close again.

You let out an embarrassing cry, leaving Jason to remove his cock. He smacks your flushed cheeks with his cock so he and Roy can both hear the full extent of you coming undone.

“Please,” you beg, arching off the desk. “Right there, Roy- fuck!”

With two different people working your pussy, you know you won’t last long.

Jason’s calloused pad against your clit and Roy’s expert tongue is all too much. You’ve never had it feel like this before- not even close. All the while, Roy continues to use moves you’ve never felt, but damn do you want to feel them again.

Preferably soon.

“You’re so fucking tight, baby. I need your come on my fingers,” he says your name like a demand.

You have no choice but to obey when he finally manages a second finger.

You come against Roy’s expert tongue. Your hips sputter sporadically against his curled fingers inside of you, all while you force Jason back down your throat, effectively giving you the best orgasm of your life. When you finally catch your breath, you lift yourself weakly onto your elbows. The sight that meets you makes you laugh as both men are standing in front of you, ready for another round.

Fuck.

This round is hazy and steamy as the three of you find a new, sensual rhythm that drives you crazy.

They continue switching off fucking into you with sloppier movements, taking turns kissing you and each other as Roy plays with your clit and Jason plays with your tits. At some point, Jason places his calloused hand on your lower stomach in a way that makes every thrust feel so much more intensified. You know you won’t last long.

Your hips snap tantalizingly against Roy’s thrusts. against his fiery hair with reckless abandon as you feel another orgasm drawing near.

“That’s it, baby,” he coos as your face scrunches up in absolute pleasure. “There we go. Give it to me, I want your come all over my dick. Good,” Roy praises as his fluid thrusts milk out your second orgasm of the night.

Your breathing sputters as you release on his hard length, squeezing down as you spasm around him until he’s forced to pull out. You’re still twitching in Jason’s arms as Roy spatters his come across your pussy and lower stomach.

“So fucking good,” you groan, allowing Jason to support the majority of your weight as you slink against his toned chest.

Roy stares at your fucked-out form in disbelief. He notices your smirk and blushes, beginning his usual rambling that you can’t help but be enamored by.

“If you want, my roommate won’t be in for most of the night.”

Jason snorts, you assume, at Roy’s attempt to get you back to his place.

You surprise everyone in the room, yourself included, when you ultimately agree, “Alright.”

➸💋➸

You wake up with a headache in an unfamiliar room.

There’s a random drum set in the corner, as well as various band tees and posters littered across the walls. Memories flood back to the forefront of your brain as you stare at the picture on the nightstand and groan.

Mr. Harper. No- Roy.

You hear the shower going from somewhere close by and use it as a chance to look around and gather your bearings.

You remember the office sex, driving back with Jason so Roy could put Lian to bed. You remember coming back to Roy’s place and fucking, changing into one of his loose shirts, then watching some dumb movie on his bed with tequila. After that, though, the memories all carry a hazy edge.

You find your dress lying across the desk in his room and silently pad over to it. Underneath the satin fabric is his partially opened laptop that dings out a familiar tone as if on cue. You change back into your evening gown, looking at your phone that lights up with a notification reminder about your stream later tonight. It’s too much of a coincidence for you not to sit there and debate snooping. Ultimately, curiosity gets the best of you as you open the screen fully.

What you find stops your heart.

He currently has tabs pulled up about some sort of mechanical issue with a motorcycle engine, the other tab is about nearby kids museums and activities. It’s the flashing tab all the way at the end that sends chills up your spine.

It’s your cam page.

Not only that, but it’s his chat log with you, showing the last message he sent.

inmyarsenal: have to stop coming by your streams. tAke this as compensation- no refunds :)

Holy shit, he’s a stalker.

Holy shit, you walked right into it.

The shower’s still going when you finally find yourself able to move again. You waste no time in rushing out of his room, searching desperately for an escape. The front door is too close to the slightly opened bathroom door for you to be able to sneak out of. You turn around and find a balcony, sighing when you realize this is your best bet.

Fire escape it is.

Donning last night's dress and remnants of body glitter, you slip out onto the balcony for your first and worst walk of shame ever.

No, actually, it gets so much worse.

“Well, this is a new one.”

You startle, turning to face Jason who’s smoking.

“Jason?” you exclaim in surprise. You’re entirely confused. He’s Roy’s roommate??? You move over to the ledge where he’s standing and look down at the ten flights you’ll have to traverse down in your heels with a sigh.

It’s going to be a long day.

“He slept on the couch, you know,” Jason says, taking a drag before offering it to you. “Nothing happened after the movie. I promise.”

For some reason, you believe him, but that doesn’t mean you’re not still seriously disturbed by what you’ve found. For fuck’s sake, Roy had watched your stream before the parent teacher conference knowing it was you and tipped you after. It’s entirely fucking creepy and way too contrived to be a mistake.

The pounding in your head takes over your senses as you take a hit off the cigarette. You sputter as soon as the smoke hits your lungs, immediately wishing you hadn’t taken the shit at all. Thankfully, Jason holds in the laugh you can tell is bubbling in his throat, something you appreciate.

Inside, the faucet squeaks off and you quickly realize that if you’re going, you better go.

You hand back the cigarette and shuffle down the first few stairs before looking back at Jason, “You never saw me.”

By the time you get to the bottom, you look up to find the man’s already gone.

You need a fucking aspirin.

A/N: work has been stressing me out and I recently got diagnosed w an autoimmune disease so we b dealing with that shit. i saw the eclipse tho and it was p cool!

[next] || masterlist || pinned || ways to support

#reader x roy harper #reader x jason todd x roy harper #jason todd x reader #reader x jason todd #my fic: parent teacher conferences and pornstars #dc x reader #x reader

181 notes · View notes

sailorblossoms-snowbaz · 3 months

Text

In awtwb, we see Simon take his cues from Baz – he doesn't know how to be in a loving relationship (outside of friendship) and doesn't know how to express romantic love or sexual attraction.

We see Simon slowly learn from Baz, picking up what Baz puts down (making progress in bed when he switches his focus to "pleasing Baz") or identifying the things Baz does for or to him that he likes, and trying to do them for Baz. "I like the way Baz constantly checks on my well-being, you think that could be annoying, but it makes me so happy I wish I always had this..." after reading Baz being Simon's rock, the shoulder Simon leans on for a whole book... we see Simon doing the same thing for Baz in SFC. We see Simon start to use pet names for Baz after Baz has been using them with Simon since they got together, so we can infer that Simon likes when Baz calls him love and darling (and he would, since he insistence on being called Simon and not Snow comes from wanting to feel closer for Baz, since he was used to associating Snow with their distance)... but it doesn't end there. Or rather, it didn't start there...

On their very first meeting, Baz holds back while Simon can't resist the incredible pull he feels towards him. Much can be said about their meeting, about how much it says about the characters and the way they act about their feelings for the other, once they become aware of what those feelings actually are, but I don't want to get sidetracked here. Simon is someone who refuses to process (and so isn't used to analyzing himself or his feelings, or knowing what he wants outside of the very obvious – that being "I want a family, stability, to belong"), who needs something to guide his actions at all times... and so would be used to react to what he thinks other people are putting down. It's a survival instinct.

I think Simon has always been taking his cues from Baz.

When Simon first meets Baz, it's a moment characterized by an irresistible pull, an unbearable pain that can only be soothed by touching Baz. That's how loving Baz feels like for Simon. That's how attraction feels. It's painful to not be able to touch Baz (he will pick fights not just for his attention, but because is the only way he knows how to touch him... note how quickly Simon escalates in his touches in less than 24 hours once the truce begins). And Baz reaction to Simon in that first meeting? He's feeling the same things too, and yet, he restrains himself. While such control can awake certain admiration, his restraint in the face of such intense feelings can also feel like a rejection. Why else wait to hold Simon's hand? Maybe he just doesn't want to touch him at all, maybe he sees Simon as beneath him – which is something Simon could feel and internalize on a subconscious level, even before Baz starts acting in ways that Simon feels like it’s saying that more blatantly (which is part molded behavior and part of a wall – when Simon is like "Baz is the most arrogant person I know" I think Baz was very much exaggerating that shit around Simon, but that's another post)

This sets the tone for their future interactions. I'll never stop saying this because I'm not a bitch easily fooled by unreliable narrators with unprocessed homosexual thirst: Simon has always been following Baz around. It's just the intensity with which he follows him that varies. In one way or another, he always found him interesting and mysterious and enthralling... I also always say Simon is the obvious one between the two of them – he doesn't know, but his behavior betrays him (when Agatha and Penny both figure out in hindsight that Simon's behavior towards Baz has been gay behavior for years... it's them mostly looking back at Simon's behavior, they didn't know Baz like that back then). Baz is way better at hiding himself, and the defenses he employs are thorny. His walls have barbed wires at the top. When Baz looks unimpressed by Simon, but his behavior makes Simon think he's absolutely despised? Simon lashes out – Baz is a(n incredibly fit) creep only capable of making 2 or 3 expressions >:c (yeah, I picture Simon making that face, like he's pouting... because he is! Mr. "I know you're alive because I have been observing your soul" doesn't truly believe this shit). When Baz looks unimpressed by Simon, but his behavior makes Simon think Baz loves and wants him? A turn on, actually. Baz’s resting bitch face makes Simon want to climb him like a tree and suck his face. The difference is in what Simon is picking up from Baz (even if other things also come into play)... that has always been the case, I think. He's not free of impulses (he's full of them, actually) but a lot of his behavior centers on what he thinks (or assumes) (whenever he assumes we have problems) he's getting from Baz.

#simon snow #snowbaz #simon snow series #simon snow trilogy #simon x baz #baz grimm pitch #baz pitch #baz x simon #carry on #wayward son #awtwb #31

122 notes · View notes

fullofgutsndopamine · 11 days

Text

Happy Holidays (Let’s Hope For The Best)

or: You always hated the holidays. Schlatt tries to change your mind

originally posted on a different blog of mine. i’m well aware it’s september.

i hope you enjoy! I've never written for Schlatt before, so I hope it's okay and i got his voice right

tw/cursing, angst if you squint, ‘jay’ for schlatt

schlatt knew your hatred towards the holidays.

long winded rants when you were less than sober, talking with your hands about how this holiday had become more on gifts than the actual spirit of christmas, the idea to stay in and be with your loved ones on a holiday-

and in his defense, for a long time, he listened.

eyes slanted as he slowly shook his head as you ranted, an occasional, “yeah, no. right-“ so you know he’s listening.

it started small, he didn’t force it.

“Jay,” The sigh is evident in your voice, “what the fuck is this?”

you hold the tiny culprit in your hand, a miniature snowman, made of ceramic and chipped with age, no larger than your palm.

"What do you-" He sets his phone down, eyebrows one, genuinely confused for a second before the smallest smile you've ever seen pulls gently at the tips, threatening to actually smile-

"Jay." You say gently, simply.

He gives himself away.

"I dunno who would do that," He shrugs, eyebrows knit as he stares at his phone again, "Especially knowing they live with the actual Grinch."

"Do you?" You tease, hope he doesn't see as you pocket the snowman, bury him deep into your jean pockets, a new lucky charm for you. Some of the ice melts away, slowly, a little crack falls off, but you wouldn't let him know that.

"Yeah," He snorts, pads over to the couch where you sit, wiggles his toes to be buried under your thighs, "Tried to fuckin' evict 'em, but it was too much work."

Days pass, and you almost forget about it.

Every time you slip into the jeans for work, you remember the small snowman buried deep into your pocket, rub it like its some sort of worry doll.

The snowman was the first, but not the last.

Second, it was the creepy santa soap dispenser shoved in the corner by your sink in the bathroom. Schlatt left the rest of the bathroom untouched, and when you squeeze it into your hand, your immediately hit with the smell of marshmallows.

“who the fuck is putting christmas shit out?” he says again, bites his lip to hide the smile, “Especially in the grinch’s lair.”

“yeah,” you tease back, “and i used it and it smelled like fuckin’ marshmallows.”

“marshmallows?!” he buffs, “that’s it, i’m writing the landlord.”

and he kisses the crown of your head and pads downstairs.

from then on, he gets bolder.

You come home and he’s gently wrapping christmas lights around the bush in the front yard, sees you coming and speaks first: “to keep the fuckin’ kids away.” with a wink, as if he has something figured out.

he has a stupid santa hat on top of a baseball cap, teetering, threatens to fall off any second, and his face is pink from the cold, his fingertips are ice and it’s obvious, from how lit up the house looks, that he’s spent a lot of time planning and putting this together.

“I don’t think that’s how it works.” you tease back, grabbing him by his coat and pulling him in for a kiss.

“what?!” he yells back, “that’s not how it fuckin’ works?! shit!” he teases back, the smile gives him away.

when you pull away, he takes the santa hat off his own head, shoves it over yours, and turns away, back to the bushes with a smile on his face.

You make your way inside, towards the kitchen to make him some hot chocolate to enjoy as the temperature falls more, and the sun slowly sets, and act as if you don’t see the mistletoe in the threshold of all the rooms, or the lights hanging around, even the little christmas village knick knacks that hang onto every surface-a post office shoved into the corner of the kitchen, and Santa’s Workshop sits in the front room-

days pass again, and you finally give in.

“Look,” you lean against the door as Schlatt comes in, a mixing bowl against his hip and a kiss the cook apron around his waist. “promise me you won’t make this a big deal.”

“okay,” he licks his lips, nods, “that’s ominous as fuck.”

“Just-sit on the couch, close your eyes, and promise to not make a big deal about it.” you grab him by the hand and gently lead him to the couch, have him sit on the edge of it and lift his hand so it rests over his eyes.

Schlatt bites his lip to keep from smiling as he hears something being dragged against the floor of the living room, before you speak again, obviously out of breath from the mini work out.

“Okay, don’t read into this,” you say one last time, “Open your eyes.”

he obeys, slowly blinks them open and sees the cardboard half busted tree box, and lets out a loud laugh: “Guess the grinches heart did grow two sizes larger, hm?”

he stands, pulls you close and kisses you on the lips, his voice drops, which is rare, his voice comes back gentle, which is also rare, means he means what he’s about to say, listen up: “I’m glad you changed your mind. Was worried id gone to far.”

you snort, “You? too far? never.” and your voice drops as well, “besides, had to give in eventually. make new traditions with you, or something right?”

you’re obviously referencing to the first few weeks of December, when he all but begged for at least a free, a string of lights-something, anything-is use to these lavish holiday traditions-only to be met by your stubbornness, the sting and ache of lonely holidays, another regular day too much for you-

“we can make new traditions,” he insisted one night, curled into you in the too small bed, the only light coming from the street light outside that flares into your eyes if you move your head the wrong way, “it doesn’t have to all be bad. let me help-“

“leave it, Jay,” you huff, shake your shoulders so his chin falls off form your shoulder as you flip to face the wall, sick of this discussion.

“that’s right-“ he smiles, surprised you were listening, “that’s exactly right, yeah.”

And he helps you drag the box into the corner, sets up his phone to play all his favorite christmas music, tells these stories of songs he loved growing up, doing certain activities to certain songs-

The music plays and though it doesn’t cal for it, Schlatt stops you every once in awhile, spins you around on your heels and dips you to a song, only for you to stand back up straight and slowly hang up the small collection of ornaments he stock piled away.

The night ends with cookies in the kitchen, the pre made kind that he bought the day after halloween and you kept shoving further and further back to try and forget of their existence, little cherry santa’s with crooked hats and little snowman placed on a tray as you two wait for them to be done, suddenly little kids again, the excitement of waiting up all night to try and find santa hangs in the air-

schlatt plates the cookies, makes hot chocolate and pads to the front room, throws a blanket over the two of you as you clink cookies together as a gentle cheers, settling on whatever movie hallmark is playing, even if it’s half way done.

schlatt is quiet next to you, plays with your hair as you rest your head on his chest, enjoying the sight of your new tree before you crane your neck to look up at him-

“i think i like our tradition now.”

he smiles, runs the pads of his thumb over your face gently, “Yeah? You a christmas fan yet?”

and you want to say the truth, how it’s hard not to be when your in his presence, how it’s hard to not smile and want to embrace every cliche, but instead you snort: “let’s not get carried away.”

he rolls his eyes, “of course not,” but his voice drops as he drops his head, rests his lips against your forehead as he speaks: “Im glad you’re enjoying it though, you deserve some good holiday memories instead.”

and he kisses your forehead as he settles back in, pulls the blanket togetber over you, and hangs you the obnoxious santa mug he had stored in the cabinet for you for when you finally came around

#caroline writes #jschlatt #schlatt #jschlatt fic #jschlatt fanfic #jschlatt fanfiction #jschlatt ff #jschlatt imagine #jschlatt x reader #jschlatt x you #jschlatt x y/n #schlatt x reader #schlatt x you #schlatt x y/n #schlatt fic #schlatt fanfic #schlatt fanfiction #schlatt imagine

73 notes · View notes

celabi · 2 years

Text

Fem!reader.

To say 𝐁𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐠𝐨𝐮 was mad was an understatement, because he was fucking fuming. His rough and scarred hands clawing at anything they could grab on to, with the unfortunate victim being the arm rest of the couch he was sitting on, well— half sitting on, considering the fact that his body, trembling in rage, was hunched so far forward that it looked like he would slip off at any second.

Kaminari— who was seated beside him (albeit further away then usual) decided he wouldn’t make a snide comment on this one, like he normally would, because he knew the moment he’d open up his big mouth, his head would no longer be attached to the neck. So he fought against his urges to tease the hot head and just mind his own business, though occasionally throwing him glances to make sure that he would not become Bakugou’s next victim when the armrest gets boring to scratch at.

‘I’ll kill that bastard, I’ll really kill him this time!’ The ash blond screams in his head, his fierce, red eyes locked onto one thing and one thing only— you. You looked so pretty in your casual clothes, better then the ugly fucking gym clothes you’d choose to wear when training, because the design of them does you no justice. But these clothes do. It’s cold today, so he’s at least glad you decided to be smart for once and wear a long sleeved shirt to stay relatively warm.

Though it’s not your choice of clothing Bakugou should be focused on right now, but the damn stupid extra, cluelessly standing right in front of you, and although you don’t seem to mind the closeness of their presence, It’s way too close for Bakugou’s liking, because in his opinion, you should communicate with anyone at least three feet away. But alas, he doesn’t own you and you have free will to say and do whatever you please. Though sometimes he wished you wouldn’t, not when the person you’re talking with is him.

Stupid, fucking, Deku.

Stupid fucking Deku who smiles at you so sweetly— a hand on your shoulder while you both converse about hero society and whatnot. Boring stuff that Bakugou couldn’t give a shit about, which is exactly why he shooed you off with a ‘leave me alone’ and left to take a seat when you tried to get him immersed into the conversation. Though now— if he knew how your attention would be solely onto the damn nerd, smiling and looking at him like he hung the stars and more— he would have put up with it and kept guard.

Is he jealous? No, Bakugou doesn’t get jealous. He gets angry. And when he gets angry, he takes it out on anything and anyone. So— with the already little patience he had, had finally dried up, he wastes not time in shooting up from the couch and stalking over towards the both of you, ignoring Kaminari’s exaggerated, loud exhale of relief when he leaves.

He successfully makes his presence known— either from his heavy booted footsteps thumping across the hardwood floor in your direction, or how he’s already shouting loud profanities at the top of his lungs, directed to the poor green head nerd he’s been violently eying for the past minute. “Damn Deku! Get your grubby hands offa’ her!” There’s not a hint remorse laced in his tone, a sign that he’s not messing around.

Izuku quickly does as he’s told, throwing his hands up in front of his face defensively, praying to god that he didn’t anger the boy even more the he already is, when he unconsciously lets out a small, pathetic ‘eek—!’ in surprise. “K-kaachan! What’s wrong?! What did I do?!” He stutters out, mentally passing out when his arms are swatted away and his shirt collar is roughly being pulled upwards, his tips of his feet just barely kissing the ground.

“What do you think you did, ya damn loser!” He carelessly shakes the poor, smaller boy around in air— excavating multiple scared squeaks from him in to process. And when you start to see vibrant, red sparks emit from the blond haired boys hand, you decide to finally step in and break them up.

“Katsuki, quit it. Leave Izuku alone, he didn’t do whatever you’re mad about.” He turns his head towards you, his previously narrowed eyes slightly softening when they land on your face. And although you’re staring at him in annoyance— he still thinks you look as beautiful as you did the day he met you, all while unconsciously letting his hand loosen and dropping Midoriya from his grip, letting him fall ass first on the floor.

“You’re on first name basis with this guy? When did you get so close with him?” He asks, mentally cursing himself by how much softer his voice sounds when it’s directed towards you. You blink once, then twice, making his eyes twitch when you blink a third time. “God, don’t look at me like that!” He tries to ignore the way his face starts to feel hotter, but he’s sure his ears are bright red.

“Why… do you care, who I’m friends with, or who I’m close to?” You slowly question— sending Midoriya an apologetic, tilted smile when he cautiously waves you off and quietly crawls away from the now awkward situation he found himself in. “It’s not like we’re dating or anything, I can bond with whoever I want to. But since you asked, Izuku and I grew close when I helped him confess to his feelings Ochako.”

Now it’s his turn to blink in confusion, staring at you like you grew a second head. “You mean, those two idiots are… dating?” You nod, a teasing smile slowly etching across your face at his baffled expression. “And you don’t have feelings for him… do you?” You once again, nod, making Bakugou let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“Why do you wanna know? You jealous or something? Ohh, I see. You like me, don’t you.” Except your teasing words don’t receive the reaction you were expecting. Usually when teased about his feelings, Bakugou would blow up and threaten your life, but this time, his voice his just above a whisper as he embarrassedly looks off to the side.

“Yeah… maybe i do. So what?”

3K notes · View notes

multiwreckedmess · 1 year

Text

Kinktober Day 4

Prompt: Teratophilia Pairing: monster!IN(Jeongin) x fem!reader WC: 3,395 (I literally said “what” outloud...no way) Summary: Would you still love me if I was a worm? Of course you would! But what if I had three tails and claws and teeth sharp enough to rip your throat out and black eyes? Would you still love me then? This is a work of fiction, it does not represent IN or any Stray Kids member. On top of this it is an 18+ work. For my comfort and boundaries please if you are under age do not interact with this. Additional warnings under the cut.

TW/CW: Idk a great tag for this but Jeongin’s conscious is essentially trapped when he shifts into a monster (unwillingly), the monster is very enthusiastic about fucking, Jeongin is not so much out of fear you’ll get hurt. That said IDK where to rate on the consent scale.

Also I use italics to indicate conversations between the monster and Jeongin. Sorry if that’s annoying or unclear.

Simple warnings - monsterfucking, big dick, humping, unprotected sex, breeding, knotting.

“Babe, I think you need to know something about me before you start fantasizing about our dream apartment together,” Jeongin sighs. He knew this day was coming. For as excited as he was to dream about the future with you, he was afraid. He knew if it got to this point he’d have to tell you. Mentally listing the number of people who knew and the number of people who’d stuck around he found the number could be held in one hand alone. You don’t even look up from your phone, scrolling aimlessly, waiting for him. Your eyes flick up to look at him as he fails to continue further. “Mhm. Okay? “You know how you have a time of the month and like, I am super understanding and buy you supplies and have no problem going out to grab pads or even, like, lay down a towel because a good orgasm can really help cramps? I’m going to need you to be just as understanding okay? Finally you look up from your phone, concerned. “You don’t need the monologue, what’s up? He takes another deep breath, hands gripping his knees. Staring straight forward he blurts his whole prepared speech, “I’m actually a monster. A real monster with teeth and fangs. Once a month I need to lock myself to a chair because the need becomes too strong and I could-I could hurt people.” You’re a blank, expressionless. It worries him, it isn’t a reaction he’d prepared for. “Okay? Like a theoretical monster or-” “No, like a schedule three restricted access elevated permissions type monster. As in only a few people and even fewer know who are alive. Real serious shit type of monster. Your brows furrow, “like a werewolf or…?” At least you don’t look scared. It’s only natural for you to have questions he tells himself. “It’s complicated. Not like one of those hollywood types. Technically I think I’m ‘otherwise unspecified’ but, to summarize, think scales and teeth and wings and talons and black eyes. The fear and regret and panic in your precious Innie’s eyes is hard to miss. The rapid way he’s rattling through the worst as a nervous habit proves his sincerity. You smile softly at him, “I think I need to see for myself.” “What no. NO. I could- did you not hear me? I could hurt you if I-” he shudders. “If I get free I don’t know-I couldn’t guarantee-I’m not myself. You shrug and turn back to your phone, “I trust you. I just wanna see.”

It takes weeks of working on him to get him to agree to let you join him on his formerly labeled “boys night”. It was not without a long list of compromises on your part. You were to only observe through glass of the french doors in his living room. He would wear additional heavy duty cuffs and chains to hold him back in case the first set failed. “No matter what,” he reminded you as you locked him into the recessed hooks behind his couch, “no matter what you cannot touch me and you cannot leave the next room. Not even to leave the apartment. The apartment door is the last line of defense and if I get out-” ‘I know. You’ve said a billion times Innie,” you say as you push his hair back. “It’ll be fine. I trust you. Jeongin shakes his head, holding his tongue. So stupidly confident, he knew no matter what he said he couldn’t shake it from you. Stubborn and confident in the face of the unknown. He couldn’t help but smile to himself as he looked over your handiwork. Everything was just the slightest big large, for now and not for long. The faintest shimmer crossed his forearm beneath the cuff. “Leave. Now.” Tucking back his hair again you can’t help yourself, tilting his chin up to kiss him. “I love you.” The kiss dries his mouth, he’s so thirsty he could die. His tongue presses to your lips, eagerly licking into your mouth as you grant him permission. You taste so sweet, sweeter than any candy he’s ever tried. Chasing your lips hungrily his teeth snap at you as you pull away. The sudden aggression making you both jump. “Are you deaf? Leave!” Jeongin’s fingers dig into his knees, veins popping out all over. Grabbing you he tries his best to toss you backwards, chains cutting his throw short. It’s just enough to send you stumbling backwards. A split second of fear shines in your eyes, a split second that he hates himself for. “Leave,” he whimpers, head hung as he hears the click of the door behind you.

It’s just in time. Jeongin’s arms start itching, he twitches and contorts to try to relieve the nagging flares popping all over his arms and legs. Slowly the iridescent shine stays, black scales tipping his arms and covering his hands. He screams as the bones of his finger morph curling back and up before lengthening into claws. The human part of him that remains is glad he can’t find you, hoping you left fully and locked the door behind you. Pain shoots through his spine, forcing him to curl in on himself. His jaw unhinges, gurgling through the spit pooling in his mouth, teeth turning to fangs as two feathery wings sprout from his back. Panting and screeching he’s a half formed creature. Part lizard, part bird, part wolf, and still some human left to spare. The doctors told him it would’ve been easier if he had been able to fully transform, that being in limbo is what made him able to remember it all. This partial transformation kept the sliver of human unable to act and conscious of his state. Full shift meant the human portion wouldn’t know, could escape the pain of knowing and being unable to act. The creature inside was pissed. It was always upset but tonight the cuffs felt particularly tight and heavy. Tugging with all his might the metal left raw impressions in the scales. Teeth snapping into the night air in desperation. He wanted to feed. He wanted more than food.

You sat in the small what the landlord considered “dining room” just beyond the doors. Hidden in the pitch black dark beyond the doors you followed your boyfriends’ instructions to remain still and calm. Watching the pain and anguish crossing his face, you want to burst through the door. Despite the various ways he could rip you limb from limb or otherwise harm you, he looked sad. Your heart ached as you watched him struggle, magnificent wings beating and folding and flexing to try to assist his fruitless tugs. Beautiful. He was beautiful, an angel even.

Almost an hour passed of him fighting frantically with his restraints until he wore himself out, scraped and bruised. Pitiful vocalizations were all that was left of his resistance. Feathers covered the floor, some falling from stress and others from effort. He was still beautiful. Hair hanging into his eyes, he was still beautiful. You watch him for hours, staring, though he really didn’t do much more than doze off and tug at the chains. The way the light falls on him is entrancing, dark scales seemingly twinkling at you like he was covered in stardust. Moreover he still looks like your boyfriend, despite the additions. Your heart ached for him, face covered in tear stains. The once loose cuffs looked far too tight.

The scraping of metal against metal perks his sensitive hearing. The most delicious scent of vanilla and coconut wafts past his nose. His breathing accelerates as the pat of a bare foot hitting the ground echos loudly in the otherwise empty apartment. The door clicks and his head snaps to face the intruder. Your stomach drops as his black eyes turn to you, grinning. His teeth are sharp and slick with saliva. “Innie, it’s me,” you whisper. Eat. EAT. Take. TAKEtaketakeeatdevourpossess. His senses go hayware, newly invigorated to tear at his bindings. What a delicious offering. What a snack. If only this body could have her whole- He snaps and growls in your direction, chains straining and cuffs cutting in. “Innie! Yang Jeongin! I know you’re in there!” The monster howls, doing one last tug before settling again. Don’t hurt her, you can’t hurt her. I will kill us if you hurt her. She’s not for eating, she’s not an offering. She’s my girlfriend. She’s my girlfriend. She’s my girlfriend. The monster huffs, head twitching to his shoulder, eyes narrowing as he gives you a once over. “I’m going to come closer. I’m-we need to be able to get along.” He sneers and growls at the thought. This tiny thing is right. No eating. Girlfriend. Fine. No eating. The monster appears to sulk as you draw nearer. What used to be your boyfriend’s body has grown much larger than you originally thought, almost completely covered in a pattern of smooth scales. “I’m going to touch you, the cuffs look tight. I want to make sure you aren’t hurting yourself.” Please no please no please no I can’t control it, I’m not- he’s not in my control. The monster gives you a sideways glance but makes no movement as you reach your hand out slowly. The scales vary from slick and soft like a snakes underside to thicker and more protective where callouses used to be. In particular where the cuffs encircle his legs and arms has built up a layer of armor. A small chirp noise eminantes from his chest over a deep rumble. “Are you purring? Do you purr?” You smile as you continue to stroke the soft side of his body. “Is the big scaly boy purring?” A small click comes from his throat, head shaking back and forth. Moremoremoremoremore this. Need this. Good. Hunger. Want tiny thing. Everywhere. Yes. Want everywhere. More everywhere. More now. More fast. Moremoremoremore. Practically panting his eyes slide closed into a state of bliss. Suddenly he flinches and pulls from you with a snap.

Your blood runs cold, teeth inches from your shoulder as you throw yourself backwards to the wall. “Hey! Innie! Be nice!” No leverage to hold over your words, a rush of adrenaline has you giggling. “I know you don’t mean it. I know my Innie won’t let you. I trust him so I trust you.” Stupid tiny thing. Pretty. Want. Want more. Need. He whines and hangs his head. “It was my fault, I went too far and you didn’t know how to handle it. Just warn me next time, okay?” You approach him again, speaking in a low soothing tone. He’d been overstimulated, he didn’t know kindness, he acted out of fear not out of a wish you hurt you. You made every excuse in the book. Heart beating wildly you were closer than ever before as he leaned back, shaking his hair from his eyes. Closer close, yes, close. Do not fucking hurt her, you know what will happen to us if you hurt her. Closetastytinyclosetastytiny. DON’T. Both of you barely breathe as you stroke his hair, slowly pushing it back so that it doesn’t bother him. You’d politely not looked at his boxers, previously loose now stretched to the max, but it was hard to ignore the twitch at your thigh. His eyes slide closed again and you withdraw your hand, his mouth twisting into a frown. “This time you’ll warn me right?” He chirps again. Stupid tiny thing more now more. Instead of returning to his hair you start touching his chest. He’s still human here, morphing into fur on his stomach and then to scale on his thighs. Your hands shake as your fingers caress down to the band of his boxers. The faint rumbling starts again. Long strokes from chest to waist, steady as you feel the muscles below relax. As your fingers ghost over the band he growls. “Not there?” You ask softly, shortening your path. Claim. Hurt hurt need claim. Tiny human need. Need. Breed. Spawn. Offspring. Yes. Tiny thing carry spawn. “Touch. Hurt.” The words are mumbled and unclear, monster unsure of the shape of the words when spoken. Your eyebrows shoot up. “Hurt? Where, how can I help? What can I do?” His head hangs down, staring at the nearly destroyed boxers. “Hurt.” Thumbs slipping below the waist band you watch his face, his mouth, his claws as you tug downwards. The soft thud of muscle against muscle as, whatever is going on down there, hits his furry lower abdomen. The noise he makes is new to your ears, a pleased trill traveling high to low. Pheromones flood the room, musky and masculine. Your head rings, blinking to clear your vision. “That help?” You don’t dare look down. Whatever it was sounded as monstrous as the being that had changed your boyfriend. Don’t you dare, don’t you dare let her. You can’t have her. You can’t. You’ll hurt her. The monster huffs. Eyes glued above his waist you continue to pet him, opting to skim his collarbones and shoulders instead of lower. “How is that my sweet thing? See we can be friends. I can help you. You don’t need to be afraid of me.” Purring, his head droops again, chin to chest, “more.” You gulp, heart dropping into your gut. “Oh-okay. If you’re sure.” Holding your breath your eyes flick south. “Fuck, more? More?” Your voice trembles. Innie wasn’t normally anything to shrug at, perfectly average length and just a little bit thicker. This, whatever the monster did to his body, this was the most. Your abs flex, walls of your sex clenching. His dick looked mostly human, deep purple and blue veins ran the thick shaft, all the way up to the head, tapered and an angry red. “Touch,” he insists. You’ll hurt her. She-I-. Your spawn too. Our spawn. Our brood. We breed. We spawn. He lightly growls as you hesitate. Shooting a glare at him you scold, “be nice, or I leave.” His claws grab what he can, the lower half of your calves, sharp ends carefully pressed. You weren’t going to leave him. Whining he almost looks sorry. “You manipulative little shit.” Pressing your palm to the base his cock easily passes the length of your fingers. “There’s just no way-” “Find. More. Moremoremore,” he moans and thrusts against you. The tang of need on his tongue. The chains rattle ominously. “Find. Hurt.” “Let me just take,” you try to scoot away from him, his claws scratching lightly as he tenses. “I need to take these pants off. To help. If you want me to help--” the grip drops immediately. Growling and snapping as you leave him he looks more like a feral creature than your beloved. Hair wild and wings stretching to his sides. She won’t leave. She should leave. God damn it, can you just control yourself? Listen to me and we can get through this. You’ll have her, fine, you’ll get to have her. My rules, her rules. You get your fucking claim can you just listen for once? The monster leans back, heels pressing into the floor. Naked in the moonlight you straddle him, bolder than before as you hear the familiar clicking and rumbling. “I promised. I kept my promise. Now promise, no bite, no scratch, no eat.” Your elbows rest on his shoulders, pressing his hair out of his eyes to stare into him, trying desperately to reach the boy inside the beast. He growls, burying his head in your chest. You heard her. Tentatively you wrap your hands around him, needing both to cover his circumference. He’s already sticky with slick. Self lubricating perhaps, or from the steady stream of substance trickling from his slit. You squeeze and pump him as you rub against his scaled thigh. IN looks pleased at least, head back and eyes closed as he purrs. However your arms quickly start hurting, range of motion and girth a challenge to your muscles. Meanwhile you’re practically dripping down his thigh, quickly growing desparate. Your scent is potent in the air, drool leaking from the sides of his lips. Delicious devour defile deep so deep want need wantwantwantwant candy dumb stupid tiny. Fragile mine mine have need mine. He grunts and whines, arms tugging again at the chains. For some reason despite the closeness, despite the fact that he could easily bite you, you aren’t afraid. “Normally you’d prep me but,” you smile adoringly at his pleased expression, “I somehow don’t think that’ll happen huh.” He chirps back, hips bucking enthusiastically upwards as your grip loosens. You’re glad for the tapered tip as you position him at your entrance. It’ll still be a stretch no double but at least it wasn’t a blunt one. Baring his teeth IN growls, writhing and thrusting up into your wetness. “My speed!” You yelp as the head pops passed your entrance. Her speed jackass go her speed! Warm, want more. Deeper need, need deep. Tiny thing is small tight warm warm tight need. He pants and groans as you slowly slip down, his hips canting and bouncing, eeking out whatever extra depth he could. Finally you settle, only able to take a little over 3/4th of him, leaving the bulbous, calloused base exposed. You bend forward and wrap your arms around his neck, rocking your hips as you get used to the burning stretch. With your ear to his neck you can better feel his pleased subvocalizations, trilling as your fingers scratch the leathery base of his wings.

“Good boy. You’re being really good for me,” you mutter as you feel him tense and shudder. “Doing well, going my pace. Feels good. Good right?” Leaning back you grind against his lower abs, letting the coil in your stomach wind back. “Just a little more and then I gotta rest, okay?” Your walls squeeze desperately around him. Your beautiful monster. Dangerous and hungry but yours. More need moremoremoremoremoremoremore faster go faster deep fast. He grits his teeth and yips, frustrated. His muscles flex, as his arms tug again. Grab, grab tiny. Grab fill breed fill spawn. Mate mine mineminemine. Hungry. Twisting and tugging again a link pops with a bang. Throwing you off balence, falling foward to grab him by the shoulders. Your overstimulated clit spasms, orgasm rolling painfully over you. Your scent floods his nostrils, sweet and musky and a little spicy now. Delicious. No don’t you dare don’t you dare. She’s my girlfriend don’t you dare. He tugs again, the second set of chains popping open. Our tiny. Our. The curve of his talons perfectly fit over your shoulder as his arms wrap around you. It all happens in the blink of an eye, the chains popping, his arms gathering you between them, the force of his hips driving forward as he locks you in his embrace. You’re screaming as he forces the rest of himself inside of you, practically roaring as you both fall forward. Hanging off of him he cradles you as he pounds brutally quickly into your cunt. There’s no art or finesse to it, only aim to drive himself as deeply as possible into your womb. Every noise he makes is strange and animalistic, rough tongue licking away at your neck as if he was preparing you for something much more sinister. You’re moaning, maybe, or choking on air, could be screaming. The blood rushing in your ears clouds your perception of noise. Cumming again on him, drives as deep as he can go, base of his cock growing thicker and locking inside of you. Whiting out from the pressure, your body is limp and vulnerable to the monster. Bitebitebitebitebitebitebitebite mate bitebitebite. He waits for the other man to speak. Bite? The other man has quieted or left. He bares his teeth, your neck exposed. It would be easy. He huffs, another spurt of release emptying into you, stomach distending slightly. The monster gathers you, sitting back and draping your form over his chest as he purrs. You shiver, locked to him naked in the cool night air. Two wings wrap around you, cloaking you in what little he can provide. The man will be back in the morning light, the monster is satisfied and so are you.

I was thinking about this one and as I was writing I feel like next year I’ll do fewer prompts but just...all monsters. Like monsterfucker october for kinktober. Assign different traits to all the skz and atz members.

#yang jeongin smut #jeongin smut #IN smut #stray kids smut #skz smut #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #stray kids kinktober #skz kinktober #kpop kinktober #kpop smut

261 notes · View notes

spliffymae · 2 years

Text

WRITTEN OFF.

synopsis: it’s just you and your ex husband speaking…at three in the morning…with tensions at a crazy high…you’re totally fine.

⚠️, swearing, mentions of cheating, smut, oral (m receiving), toji is a dickhead, reader experiencing body issues during pregnancy, angst with a mix of sadness.

pt.1 if y’all haven’t read it already :)

kio’s notes - guys i am so proud of this part. omfg idk what it is but i ate this shit up. also wanted to just say thank you all so much for interacting with my posts and loving my stories 🫶🏽🥹 honestly makes me so happy to know y’all love it!

now playing:

⊱ ──────── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.}──────── ⊰

“so my name can’t be said in your house, toji? what, am i voldemort now?”

“might as well be.” he mumbled, looking anywhere but at you. he couldn’t, not when you wore one of his old college sweaters he had forgotten at your house when you two started dating, four years ago. you ended up keeping it as a part of your wardrobe.

unfortunately, you hadn’t a clue that you were wearing something of his.

you folded your arms, leaning on your right leg. you were going to start with your attitude, you knew that for certain, and you didn’t care. “really? that’s how we’re acting? grow the hell up, toji. i’m not the one who ruined our marriage.”

“no just the one who ended it, right?”

you scoffed, “well i wonder why!” you said sarcastically. if he could play the ass then so could you. hell, you’d do it better.

toji rolled his eyes as a response. “i’m not doing whatever this is with you, (y/n). just tell me what megumi took and let me go take care of him.” he pinched the bridge of his nose with his empty hand. he was stressed, the evidence all over his face.

unbeknownst to you, he had been having the hardest time as a single father, trying to manage the complexities between todays adolescent life and the development of a baby. now add on his hefty paperwork from his missions and he was positive he could be sent to an early grave from stressing so hard. there wasn’t enough time in the day.

“i don’t know what the drug is, he—.” toji cut you off,

“the hell you mean you don’t know?” he spoke as if you should’ve known, almost judging you for not. the tone had your brow raised, now looking at him with narrow eyes. it was your way of telepathy, non-verbally telling him to ‘watch it’, because he was on paper thin ice.

“like i was saying—he got in the car and didn’t say. i didn’t even think to ask at that moment because i was just concerned with bringing him home first. it was a priority but at—.”

he cut you off again, this time with a scoff.

“just not top priority, right?”

you blinked.

you blinked again.

there was a silence between the two of you. a thick silence holding all the tension you two had created from being in the others presence.

toji had regretted the words just as they came out. he knew he messed up. he knew megumi had been your top priority when he didn’t have to be. when you were nothing more than toji’s friend who would just babysit the young boy whenever his father went out on missions.

megumi had been your first child, whether it be by blood or not. you loved him like he was, raised him, and became the parent he never knew he needed.

toji would always say it was your smile that drew him in, or say to his colleagues at work dinners it was your beauty, but truthfully—honestly, it was the way you loved his son like he was your own.

“i’m gonna give you a chance to take that back,” you spoke softly, voice slightly cracking. “because i know right now you’re just saying shit to hurt me. i love megumi, and if you wanna swing low, i promise you, toji, i will swing to hell.” you pointed. your eyes had become glossy with tears and you hated it.

megumi was a soft spot for you, always has been. whenever you and toji would get in spats in regard to him you were always on the defense for megumi. you were his advocate when there was no one else. but you were also reminded by toji (only when boiling points had been reached) that your advocacy did not need to be respected because you were not megumi’s real mom.

toji looked at his daughter, who had fallen asleep against his chest, soft and shallow breaths leaving her lips. she was your twin and he knew it was his karma. karma for his infidelity, his lying ways. he knew he shouldn’t have said anything, but he couldn’t help it.

“say it, toji. tell me i’m not his mom—do it!” you stepped closer. your eyes quickly darted to your daughter to see if your sudden volume increase had startled her awake. thankfully it didn’t.

“tell me he’s not my son, go ahead. tell me i went to every sports game, recital, and parent-teacher interview by myself because he wasn’t my son. say it, i want to hear you say, ‘(y/n), you’re not megumi’s mom. he’s not your son.”

there were tears in your eyes now, droplets falling after you’d blink. “let me remind you while you were out getting your dick wet in another bitch, i was home, pregnant and alone, with megumi who had a high ass fever. i took care of him when his own father put pussy over him. so don’t come to me about my priorities, ight?”

at the mention of his cheating, toji’s lips pressed into a thin line. he had definitely struck a nerve with his previous comment.

“i told you she meant nothing to me. i wasn’t in my right mind and—”

“and were just mad at your pregnant wife, so you decided to cheat on her. that would show me, huh toji?”

how many times was he going to have to apologize for what he did?

for doing the one thing he swore to not do?

he opened his mouth to speak. what he was going to say was what he didn’t quite know just yet. he wasn’t sure if he wanted to defend himself or just fight back. what was even the point of fighting back? everything you were saying was true.

rin had fussed from under him, her little whines being a reminder to her parents she was still present.

“i—” toji began but you cut him off by raising your hand up,

“shut up and feed my child. i’m going to go check on my son.” you didn’t wait for response from him as you turned to head upstairs, stomping away to let out some anger.

you left toji to realize he was in fact about to feed rin before arguing with you. and he cursed himself for forgetting what he originally came downstairs to do.

“shit.” he muttered as he went to the couch. he took her out the carrier and sat down with her. thankfully her bottle hadn’t spoiled and was still warm. damn you for being aware of your daughters needs.

“sorry, rinny. got distracted.” he kissed her forehead as he put the bottle to her lips. there was that feeling he felt in the kitchen again, that guilt. he hated it.

it was like someone took a fire to the inside of his stomach. it was hot, burning even. he was uncomfortable whenever it came because it was a feeling he couldn’t suppress.

he felt ever since that night, and it only ever grew as the days progressed.

toji had come home later than he told you, he had to stop to bring home food for you and megumi, as well as shower to rid himself of the smell of sex.

he didn’t mean to do it, honestly. he was just mad and needy. you hadn’t been giving him the attention he wanted from you. you wouldn’t let him touch you or even kiss you anywhere that wasn’t on your face. he needed the intimacy, and you only wanted privacy.

you claimed it was because you felt gross. you tried to explain to your husband how the pregnancy was affecting your mental state, mostly how you viewed your body. you already had body issues prior to being pregnant, but now, at your six month mark, you felt like you didn’t know who was staring back at you in the mirror.

but toji couldn’t understand. he kept trying to tell you how pretty you were to him, how beautiful you were all big with his baby, but you would never really take in his words. you just shrugged them and his reassuring kisses off with a fake smile and a quiet “thanks.”

you were supposed to go with him to this big work dinner. you had promised him you’d go and be his pretty little wife months ago. smile big in front of potential clients, mention your husband’s various accolades, basically put toji on a pedestal so they would choose him.

but when the night came, you weren’t feeling up for the event. toji of course wasn’t pleased as he had been telling you about this dinner for months. he tried to convince you to come but like previous disputes you two have had, it ended in yelling and arguments.

you yelled at him for his apathy; not understanding just how tired you were from carrying his baby, working during the pregnancy, and being the present parent for megumi in terms of school while toji went on his missions.

he yelled at you for not giving him the attention he deserves as your husband. for not being there for him when he needed you. honestly he knew it was dumb to have this argument. he should’ve just kissed you and agreed to let you stay home. but his stupid pride got in the way.

so he ended up going alone, dressed in his fancy suit and shoes, silver audemars piguet watch on his wrist and cuff links to match. he walked into the banquet hall and decided he would do it all himself—like he always did.

that’s when he stumbled into her, shoko ieri. she had complimented him on the way he flipped one of the biggest and most stubborn drug lords in the city to hire him for a hit job. she offered to buy him a celebratory drink, whiskey—since she was drinking it too.

it happened fast, at least to toji. the way they went from a playful banter by the bar to sitting next to each other at one of the tables. she had been a guest of his colleague, satorou gojo. she was a doctor for men in his line of work.

“so if i get injured on the job…” toji remembers starting, leaning back in the chair and putting his arm around the back of shoko’s. he had a smirk on his face as he manspread in his seat.

“then just stop by mine and i’ll make it all better.” she patted his cheek, eyes twinkling in mischief.

she ordered another round of whiskey for the two of them. the more he drank, the more you and megumi slipped from his mind. the more he ignored the gnawing sound in the back of his head. the one that kept telling him to stop.

another round of whiskey lowers the volume of his conscience. he can hear shoko better as she tells him about an impromptu surgery she performed on toji’s other colleague—and the godfather to your daughter, suguru geto. she touches toji’s bicep every now and again, as the story reaches turning points and it’s climax. the noise in his head comes back once she finishes the story, reminding him that you are waiting for him at home.

“but i don’t want to talk about me. i want to hear about the one and only toji fushiguro,” she leans in to him and his heart swells.

another round of whiskey. the noise has been minimized to a hum toji now hears every now and again as he tells her about an operation gone wrong in nagasaki. the conversation takes a flirtatious turn when shoko’s hand flies to his knee in a somber stroke, mumbling about how tired toji must’ve been after. his ego bursts.

another round of whiskey and toji does not recall there ever being a noise in his head. it’s quiet now, with only the sound of the jazz band and shoko having his attention. her hand remains on his knee, cherry red nails scraping against his thigh as it inches higher. toji makes a comment about switching to water for the night but shoko reminds him that just like the night they are both young.

another round of whiskey. toji’s hand is squeezing shoko’s thigh, his fingers grazing higher to places he yearns to explore. her lips now the colour plum, stained from the red wine she was nursing in between shots.

“there’s a hotel above us, y’know.” her eyes were piercing into his own. lips in a smirk and cheeks red from being flustered.

“so why are we still sitting here?” toji asked, lifting a brow. shoko smiled and unlocked her phone, passed it to him with the contact page open.

“add yourself. then wait for ten minutes.” she had a confidence about her that toji found captivating. so he did as she said, tapping his thumbs against her screen and filling out the information. when he gave her back the phone, she smiled and stood up, sauntering away.

his dick was hard. he was leaning back in the chair, wiping a hand down his face to calm himself down.

in the moments he spent to himself, the noise he had long forgotten slowly made its way back to max volume. he signaled to the waitress for another round.

the glasses of alcohol were brought in front of him, two tall shot glasses. he took them down without a thought, the liquid burning his throat.

his phone vibrated on his lap,

unknown

room 615.

it happened in slow motion, at least to toji. the way his fist knocked against the door of the hotel room and shoko answered with a smirk before pulling him in by his belt. then things started to pick up.

the way he cupped her face and kissed her hungrily. his anger from earlier and passion from the lust he felt were put into the kiss, the sounds of their lips smacking and shoko moaning ringing in his ears.

she broke away to flash a wicked smile before she bent down in her heels, becoming eye level with his crotch. she began pawing at the bulge in his pants, emitting a groan from him. his hand grabbed at her hair, chestnut coloured tresses bunched up in his fist and a gruff “suck it” leaving his lips.

his dick was hard and it was leaking for her. the way she sucked on his reddened tip had his eyes fluttering closed. she opened her mouth wide and took him until her nose was brushing against his freshly trimmed pubic hairs.

those same nails that had his leg jumping traced his prominent v-line. toji was seeing stars as she began to bob her head. he hadn’t gotten head in so long, months probably. her throat was so tight, so warm.

does it help if he said he thought of you during it, the cheating?

when he had her back arched over the bathroom sink and stared at her fucked out expression through the mirror, he saw you for a minute. he blamed the alcohol, of course.

would it make you feel better if he said he used condoms?

he didn’t want to bring anything back to you. and after that night, he got tested sometime that week to make sure everything was okay. it was, and he let out a sigh of relief.

can knowing he felt like absolute shit once he finished bring you solace?

when she had come for the third and final time in the bed, he gave her a kiss to the forehead as she fell to sleep. he walked bear to the shower and at the sight of himself in the mirror he wanted to throw up.

he came home just after midnight to find you were sitting outside megumi’s door with a blanket over your body and head resting back against the wall.

“love,” toji crouched down and shook you softly. you should have been in bed. “(y/n), wake up.”

you stirred, but eventually your eyes opened to see your husband, with a curious look on his face. “you’re on the floor.”

“why didn’t you answer your phone?” was the first thing you asked him. you didn’t say hi, you didn’t ask how the night was—you got straight to it.

toji pulled his phone out from his pants pocket and turned off his do not disturb to see he had five missed calls and ten texts from you.

“i put it on do not disturb so i could focus on the clients, m’sorry baby. what happened, are you okay?” he quickly scrolled through the messages:

wifey👩🏽‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏻💍

you seriously are going to throw a fit bc i’m pregnant and tired?

wifey👩🏽‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏻💍

fine fuck you then

wifey👩🏽‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏻💍

ok not fuck you fuck you. fuck you for now

wifey👩🏽‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏻💍

megs is sick and his head is burning. is your dinner close to finishing?

wifey👩🏽‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏻💍

toji i get we are beefing atm but our son is sick and i need your help

wifey👩🏽‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏻💍

he just told me to leave him alone bc he doesn’t want to get me sick and possibly harm the baby. i told him that won’t happen but he won’t listen to me. toji pls call him

wifey👩🏽‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏻💍

bro can you not be on your petty shit for a hot minute and just answer me?! i don’t know what to do he has chills now! holy fuck

wifey👩🏽‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏻💍

toji !

wifey👩🏽‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏻💍

update: it’s been an hr, idk what tf you got goin on but megs is still sick. i made him soup and he had a little before throwing up. i gave him some medicine and cold towel for his head but there’s no change. idek why i’m texting this shit to you 🙄

wifey👩🏽‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏻💍

if i lock your ass out pls know it was justified.

toji looked at you with apologetic eyes. you were mad, rightfully so. you had expressed to him how uncomfortable you had been lately, with your body in more pain then before. standing up for long was difficult, he knew this. he had heard the doctor tell you not to over exert yourself and take it easy on your body.

“started to think you wouldn’t be coming home.” you pushed the blanket off of you, dressed in one of his tee shirts and a pair of your pajama pants, your cornrows tucked away under your hair scarf.

you struggled to get up on your own, your max weight now being shifted to your front and creating an imbalance. but you did it with a huff, toji standing tall now and watching. he had offered to help but you slapped his hand away.

“(y/n)—.”

“shut the fuck up. i’m going to bed and you’re on the couch.” you pushed the blanket into his chest. he was still slightly drunk so he stumbled back a bit, but caught himself.

toji didn’t have any more time to dwell on his past actions. or to recall the night you found out, because you had come back downstairs. “megs’ still high, but he says it’s better than how he was before. he said he and his friends took a pill—probably molly. i ordered him some food to eat so hopefully it comes down fast. rin doing okay?” you stood at the bottom of the stairs, leaning against the banister.

in front of you was toji’s back as he held rin, who was fast asleep in a formula coma. the bottle was empty and she was content, snoring away in her fathers arms.

“she’s fine now.” he mumbled but you heard. and with a nod, you walked to the door to put your shoes back on.

“great, i’ll be on my way. listen out for his food. kiss rin f’me.”

toji heard you unlock the door, and heard the sound of it opening. before you walked out though, he called out to you.

“yes?”

“was there any part of you that would’ve taken me back….after everything?” he turned his head so he could see you in his peripheral. he wasn’t going to look at you as you said it, he couldn’t.

he doesn’t think you understand how hard it’s been to look at you since that night.

you blew air out your mouth, cheeks puffed and eyebrows raised. you hadn’t expected for this to be the question he asks you as you get ready to leave. not at damn near five in the morning.

but might as well, right?

“honestly, yeah. i would always have these random moments where i would feel like i needed you again, in my life or in my bed…but then i would remember that you cheated on me when i was pregnant, and when i was in the darkest period of my pregnancy, at that.”

the emotions were still raw for you, the betrayal and the pain. it was a feeling that felt almost close to that of stabbing. a piercing blade through your heart that turned deeper into the organ anytime you’d think about it.

“i, uh, remember how i stayed up crying for months after because i just knew that whoever that woman was, she must’ve been the definition of gorgeous—because you used to tell me there was not a being alive who could outshine my beauty. and i believed you.”

“i didn’t lie” toji said. his voice was shaky and he honestly didn’t know why he asked you such a question. it was obvious there was no sign of reconciliation between you two. but yet he asked anyways, hoping some higher being somewhere would give him back his family. he didn’t appreciate it at first, but he’s learned now.

you chuckled dryly, “no, you were just proven wrong. goodnight, toji.” you quickly left after that, not wanting to wait around for anything he had to say.

as far as you were concerned, that was the end. it was over.

pt. 3

#Spotify #🌞🍃spliffymae #jjk⋞〈⏣》⋟#toji fushiguro x black reader #toji x reader #baby daddy toji #toji zenin #toji smut #anime x black!reader #jjk #jjk x black reader #cheating #angst

814 notes · View notes