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#their partners are not always happy about it
auspicioustidings · 15 hours
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Johnny likes to pick a random little coffee shop in whatever place the mission takes them and sit for hours sketching the people around him. Something about it is a ritual for him, settles him in this new place and reminds him that this is what he fights for, the freedom of people to go get themselves a fancy coffee after a hard day if that's what makes them happy.
The day he sees you his sketchbook has pages of you. He usually moves quickly between people and he didn't even realise that he wasn't until he gets back to base and Ghost has a look at his sketches as he always does.
"Fancy a tea tomorrow then?" he asks.
They go but it was a longshot, you're not there. They visit again a few times when they can, hope you'll walk in. Gaz and Price keep an eye out too once they see the sketches.
They don't know you but you become so familiar to them. They've never met you but their allies all know your face. You are just a regular person going about your day never knowing that sometimes you are what is keeping a soldier on another continent going. You criticise your appearance in the mirror unaware that you've become somewhat of a mythic creature, a divine thing, a good luck charm across special forces and PMCs and rebel groups. Your face that you are trying to learn to love has been replicated so many times on the pages of those who have fallen in love with it.
And maybe you never ever find out, or maybe one day you're watching a news piece showing barracks and see your face up on the wall. The reporter asks the man if that's his partner back home. He smiles softly and says he wishes that were the case, but it's just a person he saw in a coffee shop years ago that he has never been able to forget.
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caprisunnydays · 2 days
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Stardew Valley x Reader Bachelor Headcanons
Alex
Before you and Alex got together, you probably became long time friends
He was def like "damn they hot" but then when it became more than just that he was like "DAMN THEY'RE HOT"
It's been a bit since he's felt those silly little butterflies, it genuinely makes him nervous
Que him leaning against a wall like "Hey bbg" but he's sweating bullets
After his confession, he feels much better, and the nervous air that only you could really pick up on has disappeared
Very PDA, arm is always around you, probably not in the back pocket but if he's tipsy enough then boom it appears
Insists on going in the mines with you but saw a slime and wanted to dip so bad but you protected him <3
"Heh...I totally wasn't scared. Don't worry babe I'll protect you" nah boy
He feels his heart melt every time he sees you and Evelyn baking together, or her just acting like your grandma
Even George has become a grandpa figure, giving advice with alex or general things
Alex is secretly insecure about himself, but with you, he finds room to grow as a person and find that those worries are unwarranted
Though he doesn't say it often, you make him feel seen, and he truly appreciates that
Elliot
(Personal fav right now so I'm about to go OFF)
If you picked romance for his book he's imagining you both as the main characters
Not a complete parallel because he's like "can't be creepy" but a teensy bit
Speaking of "can't be creepy" he has written multiple sonnets about you since realizing his feelings
Unlike some of the other bachelors, he embraces his feelings more, using his passion to inspire his writing and other endeavors
Heavy on the gifts and courting stuff
Gives you love poems at least once a week he has so many piled up but he doesn't wanna go overboard
Says the sappiest things all the time with this love struck look in his eyes
PRETTIEST MANNNNN
Words of affirmation kinda guy, he's poetic like that
Leah pokes at him for being a simp but mans could not care less he's proud
Picks out pretty sea shells that wash up on the shore and gives them to you, and they're always intact!
Big fan of the flower dance and looks forward to getting to dance with you in front of the entire town! maybe your worst nightmare but he's just happy to show you off (and his dancing skills lol)
Speaking of which, mans is gonna teach you how to waltz and a bunch of other old timey dances
At some point he WILL show up in the pouring rain to profess his love, or give you flowers, or both
You're like "Elliot we're literally dating was this necessary and he's like "OF COURSE MY DEAR"
He'd love heartstopper
Harvey
Insert too sweet by Hozier
Silly little doctor guy tries to avoid you but can't help but be drawn to you
He sees you running around doing your daily tasks, and just watches you from afar from the window of the doctor's office
Maru notices and tells you to come in sometime cuz her boss ain't gonna get nowhere by himself
When you start coming in more often he can feel himself die of embarrassment when he fails to make interesting conversation
Is very worried about your health though and fusses when you pass out in the mines/street
He gets even more adamant about you taking care of yourself once he's confessed
Way less nervous though!
Looks at you with adoration eyes when you do anything
Tipsy Harvey is a cute Harvey because he starts spilling his guts on how often he thinks of you
Whenever you're not busy with work he appreciates you stopping by the office, just to talk about both of your days
He yaps to everyone about you btw
Doesn't mean to but when someone brings you up he's like "oh yes me and my partner love to-" or "my partner loves-" etc etc
I used to not be a fan but he's such a sweetiepie
Sam
"I just love a guy who plays guitar <3" - u @Sam
That's it
I JEST
Originally he's like "hey come and hang out with me, Sebastian, and Abigail"
Then you start coming over and it's just you both alone
He's not creepy about it, just wants to spend time with you one on one
Loves showing you the songs he works on and if you want he'll show you how to play guitar too!
He's also happy with how well you get along with Jodi, always trying to get you both to bond, it makes him feel nice that you feel like you're apart of the family
Once y'all are together he does sneak you in anytime he gets the chance
He'll text you like "come over" You : I've gotta be up at 6am Him : "PLZPLZPLZPLZ-"
OG golden retriever bf
You both go shopping at Joja at 3am for fun and goof off
Or go run around in the forest taking aesthetically pleasing pintrest photos
Sebastian
You can't tell me he's not an arctic monkeys kinda guy so insert R U Mine? By Arctic Monkeys
It took him time to warm up to you
When he did you became one of the few people he could hang out with after a long day of socializing and not feel drained around
I can see him doing things that aren't always super platonic and thinking he wants to do them because
"Platonically" holding your hand, cuddling, etc
At town events he stands all close to you, complaining about how much he hates it, but showing disappointment when you mention leaving
Everyone's like are y'all dating and he goes NO way too fast
When you both finally ARE together though he's actually much less affectionate and public, but it doubles when you're in the comfort of his basement room
Finds the most joy in keeping you trapped in his bed with him until noon when you say you should be working on your farm
Especially in the colder months, then you can also share his mom's pumpkin soup
He's almost catlike with his affection
Another guy you run around and take aesthetically pleasing pintrest photos with, but his are more grunge esk
"Accidentally" leaves his hoodies at your place but he likes seeing you in em
I imagine that the characters have those closets filled with the same outfit, so when you try and give him his stuff back he goes "nah" and whips out his 100th hoodie
Shane
PACK IT UP SAVIOUR COMPLEX I mean what who said that
After you rescue him from the depths of his depressive alcoholism, he feels guilty for having feelings for you
Part of it is because he's like "fuck do I actually like them or is it just cuz they basically saved my life" and partly because it feels painfully stereotypical
Not a lot changes, though he is a lot more open to you then he is with other people, even with Marnie
Helps out with your chickens when he has free time
Talks to them about his problems and once you almost walked in on him ranting about his feelings for you (bro was shook)
But once he's confessed, well, he's still insecure about some things, but accepts your help with stride
Jealous easily, but tries not to show it
Acts of service kinda guy, so if you need him to run an errand while you're swamped with farm work? He's on it
Pulls up to your farm with a bunch of snacks and a bag full of movies for you to pick from
He sets it up while you take a shower to wash all the grime and dirt off from a days work so you can just come and cozy up on the couch with him
You're also basically besties with Jas, such a sweet girl, always asks you to play jump rope with her
You both go "say no to drugs" to her l o l
Marnie is also now your bestie so even when she's not working you can get stuff from the shop #WIN
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I loooooove stardew valley it's so cool so great
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clairdelunelove · 3 days
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itadori "wear what you want because I can fight" yuuji
he's not a violent person. well, most would claim he isn't. people tend to put him on a pedestal of fairness and morality due to his typical charm. the magnetism of his broad grins and upbeat compliments. always the comedic relief when situations escalated, and feelings were far from composed. and he'd agree that they weren't that far off with their assumptions. he views every individual as a holder of wills and dreams. the desire to strive for the value of life is enough motivation for him. he's a firm believer of sacrificing himself for the greater good– a selflessness that most couldn't fathom.
but by a rare stroke of luck, when the two of you began dating, yuuji noticed a drastic change in the perception he had of himself. he could be jealous. and in hindsight, it sounds silly because of course, there's nothing wrong with your partner being a bit insecure. it's human nature and happens to the best of us. but yuuji didn't lack self-esteem. no, he was just protective over you. guarded, vigilant, and careful about everything that involved you in some shape or form. and perhaps the inkling of keeping you all to himself has run through his mind more than once. these strong sentiments scared him, initially; rattled him enough to where he would ponder if it was normal. guilt was the typical consequence he dealt with and often confided in his mentors about it. conversed with them by using his large, expressive eyes and knitted brows. and when they hummed that his emotions were valid, well, it was like putting a soothing balm over an injury. he was as good as new.
so it isn't surprising when his nose crinkles at the abominable sight before him. he leaves for a minute, literally, to pick up the syrupy milkshake the two of you ordered beforehand. it's filled with candied toppings, a concoction that made your mouth drop in awe and caused him to immediately buy it to make you happy. and there's a bounce in his step when he waltzes over to your table. he's in pure bliss. just euphoric due to the fact that the both of you could spend the day together and it's been a dream come true. he'd taken you to the bowling alley, gotten some impressive strikes, and even snuck in a couple affectionate kisses. it's the equivalent of the cheesy romcoms that he watches when he misses you.
until it isn't.
because there's a guy chatting you up in yuuji's absence and okay, yuuji takes a deep breath and reasons that it's not a crime to talk to you while he's away. but cut him some slack, y'know. he almost feels bad when you catch his stare and a wave of relief washes over your features. emphasis on almost, however. his mouth twitches in response, plastering on a half-smile as he gets closer, until he has the misfortune of hearing what the stranger was adamantly uttering to you.
"you don't have to be coy, 'course you're dressing like that to get attention," the guy pointedly gestures to your outfit with a smirk, "you got mine, for sure."
and yuuji sees red. an intense burst of emotion that licks up into flames of animosity that drive him to the brink. it's instantaneous. scarily so, when yuuji's calloused hand seizes the stranger's before he can sleazily reach to pet at your clothes. because how dare this stranger feel the need to say that. yuuji recognizes the telltale sign of your brows drawing together, your self-confidence diminishing the more this situation goes on. so he snaps.
"what'd you just say to my girl, asshole?"
he doesn't even recognize the gruff, harsh voice that leaves his chapped lips. there's a huff of alarm from the sheer power of his grip on the stranger's wrist and you swear you hear an unnerving crack. you let out a distressed gasp. the blushy haired male doesn't verbalize the same sentiment, though. just blankly stares up through his brows, an ominous and haunting intent in his actions. and yuuji's a completely different person now. you note a muscle in his jaw that twitches. gone is your sweet, doting boyfriend. he's placed by a man with innate concentration and murderous intent to protect your honor– to defend you. the contrast is startling.
"she can wear whatever she wants, whenever she wants," yuuji moves to grasp onto the front of the stranger's shirt and forewarns him with a couple shakes, each word emphasized with the movement, "'cause she's with me."
and the blushy haired male rattles the other grown man like he was nothing. just a speck of dust that happened to get in yuuji's way. a nuisance that he'll willingly dispose of. naturally, the stranger is reduced to trembling and cowering in fear. the sleeves of yuuji's sweater are rolled up to showcase his solid forearms and rippling veins that are only more apparent in how tense he is. hysterical excuses leave the other male's mouth; mentions of who- or rather what- you were dating. how this wasn't right-minded or moral for him to be acting this way. this was just supposed to be a light-hearted 'joke.' but yuuji's not interested in listening. he casts a rather neutral glance to him, the kind where his brows drop in conviction. locked onto his prey and stopping any means of escape. his golden eyes are as sharp as daggers. a manifestation of the stranger's night terrors and much more. there's hostility evident in how yuuji shoves him to get lost and, as quick as the stranger appeared, he vanishes.
and after the whole ordeal, yuuji's busy scratching the back of his neck. the image of modesty and faultlessness being captured by how he tilts his head to the side while he watches the stranger retreat.
he even has the audacity to mumble an innocent, "gee. what was that guy's deal?" like the pink-haired male wasn't just playing violent mind games with him or how he wasn't just the sole embodiment of the harbinger of hell itself. all as an effort to protect you.
your heart skips. breathless, as you're engulfed in warmth that exposes your deepest desires. and you think that yuuji knows; well, with how he leans to press a tender kiss onto your forehead and eagerly takes your hand in his. how his casual display of strength melts you into a puddle. but when you're left flustered, heart pounding and mind racing, you realize that you're the one that's struck speechless on how effortlessly attractive he is. but it dawns on you that this is just how yuuji innately is. after all, he vowed to be yours; in every aspect there is. his commitment to you is unmatched. and it's the utter devotion that yuuji unveils to you in times like this that your love for him only grows with each passing day.
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momotonescreaming · 2 days
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All the things I would do
Rating: M | WC: 5.5k | Evan Buckley/Tommy Kinard Relationship Study, Kissing, Mild Smut [Read on AO3]
Buck loved having sex in the loft. He loved having sex with Tommy in the loft.
The way he could drag Tommy upstairs by his hand, fingers entwined, no walls or doors in the way to slow them down. The way he could fall backwards onto his mattress, sending Tommy tumbling on top of him with a playful tug of his hand, falling into place easily. Large thighs bracketing his hips, keeping him pinned, held in place — not that Buck wants to leave when Tommy has him like that.
Hand curling around Tommy’s waist, around his neck, pulling him even closer as Buck smiles into a kiss. His boyfriend (boyfriend!) falling into it naturally, almost entirely in sync. Letting himself be pulled, pinning Buck where he wants him. Bracing himself on the mattress to kiss and kiss and kiss Buck.
Buck’s had sex in the loft before, it’s a fact, logically he knows that it’s technically no different than when he was with Ali or Taylor or Natalia. That Buck and Taylor would hurry upstairs with the same desire and rush to have sex that he and Tommy do.
But it feels different. More. Better. Unlike anything else he’s experienced before.
Like he’s a giddy teenager experiencing dating for the first time combined with the freedom and experience of an adult. Maybe it’s just better with Tommy.
Tommy, who was better than Buck could have possibly dreamed.
Who took his whole world and flipped it upside down. Opened his eyes. He was free and he was Tommy’s. He had a boyfriend who was cool with this being his first relationship with a man (once he had gotten over the initial hurdle and panic, which, fair, Buck felt terrible about it too) because they both knew he was in this with Tommy. He wasn’t one hundred percent sure of what he was ready for — he told Tommy as much — but he meant it when he said he was ready for something with Tommy. He liked Tommy, he wanted to be around him, he wanted to explore what dating this incredible man meant.
This incredible man who was cool with whatever pace Buck wanted or needed to set — whether he wanted to slow down or speed up. Buck wanted to explore it all with Tommy.
Who’s always checking in, making sure Buck’s alright, and it never feels condescending. Partly because Buck actually really appreciates a partner doing that for him, showing that they care and don’t want to pressure him into something he’s maybe not ready for just yet. But also partly because he now knows that Tommy needs it as well. To be the partner he never had when he first came out. Not to say that he doesn’t listen to Buck when he says yes, he’s sure. He wants this. He’s ready. Because Tommy listens when he talks, really listens, and takes him at his word when he says he wants more, they can progress.
So they were taking it at Buck’s pace, and Buck couldn’t be happier. So was Tommy, if what he was telling Buck was any indication. The way he looked at him. And why wouldn’t it be. Tommy kept looking at him with happy, crinkly smiles that took over his whole face. With soft, tender gazes that made Buck feel like he was about to melt on the spot.
When Buck said that all he wanted to do was make out like teenagers, groping on his couch with no intention of going any further — Tommy said of course. And he was a very willing participant. Letting Buck explore his lips, his tongue, the way that he kissed him. Kissing him back. Feeling Tommy’s 5 o’clock shadow against his chin, stubble scratching against stubble. Resisting the urge to lick a hot, wet line in the cleft of Tommy’s chin. Muscled shoulders underneath his grasping hands. Sighing and moaning into Tommy’s mouth at every little reminder about just how masculine Tommy is. And just how into it Buck is. A part of Buck wonders why it took him so long to realise that this was something he was into.
Sharp cheekbones and a jaw so chiselled it was like he was made from marble. Short hair and muscles bigger than his. Buck finds himself moaning the first time he gets pinned underneath his boyfriend and realises that if anything, he’s the smaller one in the relationship. They’re the same height, both muscled, but Tommy’s just slightly broader, with a thick chest and biceps as big as his head. He kind of wants to bite him about it.
It feels easy with Tommy, natural, but not like he’s just falling into it with him like when Buck was in his other relationships. Less like he’s being whisked away in someone else’s current and more like he’s going with the flow. Together. He was choosing Tommy and Tommy was choosing him back. It was an easy decision to make. Like he was talking about with Eddie — they just clicked.
He wants to explore everything with him.
Tommy sent him his first ever dick pic, and it was kind of insane how good it was. Blew his fucking mind. He felt like a teenager again with how horny it made him. He remembers it vividly, Buck lounging on his brand new couch, flipping through channels for something to watch, texting Tommy. His boyfriend recently back from shift in his own house and starting to unwind. Took a shower to clean off the day, got changed, and so Buck flirted a little. Maybe asked for a picture. He felt all giddy and little ridiculous as he did it, excitement bubbling up in his chest as Tommy actually sent a photo back.
Reclined into his mattress, one arm resting above his head, gently flexing. Hair all tousled and curling at the nape of his neck where it was still damp from his shower. He was shirtless, because of course he was, camera angled to show off the full expanse of his torso. Showing off his abs, his scar, his pecs, that Buck definitely wanted to bite. Tommy knows what he’s doing, all casual and cool and Buck really can’t get enough of it. He also kind of wanted to make it the lockscreen on his phone, if he wasn’t sure Eddie and Hen and the rest of the 118 would tease him for it as soon as they caught sight of it.
So, biting lip, Buck sent a photo back. Tried to pose in such a way that was flirty, fun and sexy without him looking like a total fuckboy. Although, Buck thought — Tommy would probably like it if he flexed his bicep or lifted his shirt to show off his abs. Posed like a frat boy, just a little. Because he knows that Tommy’s into him. Doesn’t have to worry about sending a photo that’s too much too fast.
It was exciting, exchanging those photos that got sexier and sexier with each click. Buck unbuttoning his shirt, his jeans. While Tommy tugged at the waistband of his sweatpants. Shucking his pants down his thighs as Tommy sent a photo of him palming himself through the thin fabric of his grey sweats, dick tenting the fabric. And fuck, what Buck wouldn’t give to see that in person. He’d seen people online talk about hot guys in grey sweats before, not thinking much about it, but he gets it now. Slowly starting to forget about angles and flexing his muscles, trying to take the best possible photo for Tommy and focusing on just how fucking hot he felt. Pulse racing, breath coming heavier, excitement running through him. How he wanted to show Tommy just how much he was effecting him.
He was sexting a guy. His boyfriend, even. It was fucking exciting. Invigorating.
And then Buck got his first ever dick pic, and he shamelessly jacked off to thoughts of Tommy in the middle of his living room couch. Didn’t even make it upstairs. Didn’t even think about the possibility of anyone barging into his apartment. Was so caught up in the sight of Tommy — all of him, and damn there was a lot— in the thought of what his dick might feel like in his hands, heavy and warm and velvety skin. What sounds Tommy would be making — moaning like he did in the hospital lobby, gasping and grunting as he got off to thoughts of Buck.
Shirt falling off his shoulders, unbuttoned and baring his naked chest. Pinned on only from the couch underneath him, fabric wrinkling. He didn’t care. Jeans stretched around his thighs, straining as he adjusted himself. Underwear pulled down just enough to expose himself, tucked under his cock, fabric damp with precome. He sent Tommy a photo of that too.
Things progressed easily from there. Buck was all in, no hesitation.
It was like that photo finally broke through the final wall of nerves sitting in Buck’s head — the one of Tommy fisting his hard cock, pretty and pink and leaking, just for Buck. Head thrown back on his bed, exposing the long lines of his neck. That while he was in this, and knew Tommy was hot, had been shamelessly jerking off to thoughts of Tommy — the reality of seeing a cock like that had him a little nervous. It was first. Having a photo made it easier, Buck thought afterwards, breaking through the anxiety of a first time and the what ifs swimming around in Buck’s head.
Tommy was hot. Buck was horny. And he had nothing to be worried about. The heat and the lust and the want rushed through Buck and swept all the anxiety away like a wave.
He wanted phone sex and to come in his pants dry humping with Tommy on the couch. Wanted to drag Tommy into the shower together and get his hands on him. Maybe drop to his knees and ask Tommy to teach him how to suck cock.
And Tommy was there every step of the way.
Dirty talking on the other side of the phone, voice deep and smooth and sending a shiver down Buck’s spine. Relationship still so new but Tommy still somehow knowing exactly what to say to make him groan. To feel the heat pooling inside him as Tommy tells him exactly how he’s going to take him apart. To tell Tommy how good he is at this, how perfect. Tell him about all the things he does to Buck — his racing heart, his stuttering words, wanton moaning into the phone.
Ready and willing to rut against Buck like a teenager, sloppily making out in the living room of Tommy’s house. Never once complaining about the denim of his jeans straining against him as they fuck fully clothed. Pinning Buck to his couch, sinking into the cushions, grinding their clothed cocks together. One hand in Tommy’s hair, mussing up his curls; the other raking down his back. Grasping at fabric, feeling the heat of him, the shifting lines of his muscles. Creeping lower to grab at his ass and swallowing Tommy’s moan as he does so. Writhing and rutting against each other until they came in their pants, and Buck was kind of obsessed of the feeling of Tommy pulsing against him, hot and sticky. It was so hot, they’ll definitely be doing that again if Buck has anything to say about it.
Not to say that’s all their relationship is — sex.
Buck finally got to go on that go karting date — at that track out in the desert he’d been talking about — where he had a lot of fun discovering that Tommy was very good at it, actually. Made sense, since he was very much a car guy. It was kind of a perfect date. Out in the sun, clear skies, doing something exciting with Tommy. Racing around the track, calling out and teasing everytime they passed each other. They made a day of it, going for a drive, Buck holding Tommy’s hand over the Jeep’s gear stick. His boyfriend’s large, calloused hand entwined with his, warm and comforting. He felt lighter on the way home, that now achingly familiar giddy-happiness sitting in his chest like honey. Buck drove home with a grin on his face, hand resting on Tommy’s thigh.
There were other dates of course, where they tried a mini golfing place down by the beach and quickly discovered that they were both sort of terrible at it. Spending hours walking through the park together, just talking and enjoying the fact that he was allowed to hold Tommy’s hand. They re-did their dinner date and actually made it to the movie, sneaking glances at each other in the dark of the theatre.
Tommy was taking him on hikes — at some local trails he frequented, where they were surrounded by nothing but nature and the cloudless sky. In a muscle tee with the sleeves cut off, and his familiar blue gym shorts, Tommy led them up the trail with a grin on his face and a backpack strapped to his back. Water bottle, bug spray, sunscreen, emergency first aid kit. It was nice to date someone who got it, another first responder, someone who was just as prepared as he was. The sun beat down on them as they hiked the trail, sun warming his skin until he felt like liquid gold. Talking about everything and nothing, about calls and documentaries Buck had watched. About what work Tommy was doing on his car and a little more about Harbour Station.
His muscles were warm and he was sweaty by the time they finished the trail, Tommy much the same as he drove them both back to Buck’s loft. Safe to say he was distracted on the ride home. He was sun warmed and sated, watching a bead of sweat drip Tommy’s neck as he sighed into the cool air of the Jeep’s AC. Licking his lips, trying very hard not to think about leaning over the centre console and licking it up. Feeling the saltiness on his tongue, the warmth of Tommy’s skin radiating out, the way his breath would hitch.
But Buck really doesn’t want to risk a car accident and have to call 911 — they’ll never hear the end of it. So he lets Tommy drive, watching him navigate the roads of LA with ease. One hand on the wheel, and the other burning hot as it rests on Buck’s thigh. And then, he invites Tommy back up to his loft with a flirty gaze and a coy tilt to his head. He really doesn’t want this date to end. Buck thinks he could spend hours with Tommy and never grow sick of it, never feel the itch that he needs space.
Tommy agrees.
So Buck spent the elevator ride up to his loft bouncing on the balls of his feet, biting his lip and trying to keep his hands to himself. He won’t be able to restrain himself otherwise, and he really doesn’t want to piss off his neighbours. Tommy gives him a knowing glance out of the corner of his eye, gaze raking over Buck’s body. That familiar smirk on his face. He doesn’t feel objectified, like Tommy’s just in it for his body, he feels wanted. Desired.
It feels like the beginning of something.
Sex might not be the only thing their relationship is — but it is an important part. Hell, Buck was a self proclaimed sex addict for a time. It took a lot of reflection, and a lot of talking through it in therapy, but Buck was now comfortable with the fact that him desiring sex, desiring that intimacy — isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Having a high sex drive isn’t a bad thing. There’s nothing wrong with needing that connection to another person. Unabashed and unashamed. And he wanted that with Tommy.
Buck wanted that connection, that closeness. He wanted to explore sex, explore his bisexuality — with Tommy. Whether it was hard and fast, hot and steamy, or slow and exploring. He wanted it all.
So as soon as they shut the front door to Buck’s loft behind them — they were on each other. Reaching for each other in tandem. Hands grasping at waists and sweaty shirts, Tommy throwing his backpack onto the floor and kissing Buck as soon as he’s free of it. Buck pulling Tommy towards him by his waist, wrinkling the fabric of his sweaty shirt — sending them slamming into the door behind him with the force of it.
He smiles into Tommy’s mouth as his boyfriend brings an arm up to brace himself on the door — using the leverage to slow their descent into the door, just slightly. His heart jumps as he realises what Tommy did — trying to stop Buck from slamming his head into the door — taking care of him, even now. Even still.
Buck slides his hands up Tommy’s shirt, feeling the heat of his skin pressing into the palms of his hands. Burning hot, it’s not enough. Skating along the hardened muscle, the sweat pooling on his lower back. He wraps an arm around him, pulling him closer, closer.
Closing his eyes as Tommy kisses him back. Leaving his arm braced on the door above them, bracketing Buck in, the other burning a hole in his side. All he can smell is sweat and salt and Tommy. There’s nowhere he’d rather be. Kissing him, and kissing him, and kissing him. Prying Tommy’s mouth open with his tongue, wet and hot. Dripping spit down his chin as he sucks on his tongue.
Tommy groans into his mouth, a low rumble, and he can feel every shake of it where their chests press together. Sticking together with sweat. If Buck was less horny, he’d maybe think about how gross they both were, sticky from hours in the sun. But he is, and Tommy is so fucking hot like this. Sweaty and gross and masculine. He grips the fabric of his shirt, and uses the leverage to pull Tommy’s hips into his. Thin fabric of their gym shorts leaving nothing to the imagination. Feeling every inch of him, the thick hard line of his cock.
Then it’s Buck’s turn to moan unabashedly as Tommy starts to gently rut against him. Mouth dropping to his neck as Buck tilts his gaze towards the roof of the loft. Eyes fluttering open, gasping for air, letting his gasps and moans filter out into the open air.
A giggle escapes him. They’re still pressed to his front door.
Tommy slows, pressing wet kisses down his neck. Along the curve and lines of his jaw. Taking his time with each one, deep but not enough to leave marks. Buck finds himself pushing up Tommy’s shirt, exposing his bare chest as he ruts against him.
“Tommy,” he moans, the word shuddering as he exhales, and there must be something in his voice because Tommy pauses. Pulls away from Buck’s neck, leaving behind a hot wet mark that cools in the open air. Buck would pout at the loss of contact if they weren’t pressed together as close as they are.
Tilting his head, raising an eyebrow in that way he does, Tommy looks at him. Mouth twitching up at the corners. He can see how spit-slick and pink they are. He really wants to kiss him again. “Evan.”
“Why’d you stop?” Buck says, smiling. Panting through the words, heat of his skin cooling in the summer air. Running his hands up Tommy’s sides, along the lines and curves of his muscles. Dipping lower, enjoying every inch of their clothed cocks pressing together. Tilting his head to catch Tommy’s gaze, eyes shining. He still feels all giddy and bubbly inside. The heat and desire boiling up with this undercurrent of sheer joy. “I thought we had something good going.”
“We do.” Tommy says simply, smoothly, smiling softly back at Buck as if he has no idea what he’s doing to him. Bringing his hand down from the door above them, dropping to cradle Buck’s face. Hold his haw in his hand, thumb running in gentle circles. Calloused thumb scratching against his stubble. It’s a good sound. “But I was just wondering if we’d be more comfortable in that big fancy shower of yours. There’s room for two, isn’t there?”
“There is now,” Buck says giddily, the smooth tone of Tommy’s voice washing over him, rolling through him. Sending a shiver down his spine, straight to his thickening cock. He’s sure Tommy can feel it. Good. He loves it when Tommy puts the moves on him, and loves being able to show him exactly how much.
He grabs Tommy’s hand, laughing giddily as he pulls them both into the bathroom. Tommy’s chucking behind him, fingers entwined with his. Kicking the door behind them, slamming shut, but neither flinch at the sound.
Tugging gently on their entwined hands, Tommy pulls Buck back into his orbit, reaching out with his other hand to rest on his hip. Steadying them. Bodies pressed together, still warm and sweaty, but the red-hot urgency is cooling.
Buck can go at Tommy’s pace, too. It’s nice, when Tommy lets himself set the lead like this, when he knows it’s something Buck’s into and comfortable with. He bites his bottom lip, plush and pink, drawing Tommy’s eyes down as he gently brings their hips together again. Not moving, not writhing and grinding like he wants to, just pressing the lengths of them together. “Hi.”
“Hi, yourself.” Tommy says back, voice just on the edge of teasing. Buck kind of really wants to keep kissing him. So he does. Eyes fluttering shut as he brings their lips together again, hand resting on the back of Tommy’s head, tangling through his sweat-damp curls. He moans into Tommy’s mouth, deepening the kiss, when Tommy pulls back.
Buck chases his lips with his, almost subconsciously, already so caught up in the feeling of Tommy’s kisses. He’s sort of addicted already, ever since that fateful day in the middle of the loft. What can he say, Tommy’s a good kisser. Good enough to flip his whole world on his head. Open his eyes. Tommy chuckles gently at Buck chasing his lips, gently rubbing his thumb in circles at Buck’s waist.
“Wanna get the shower going for us, baby?” Tommy says, voice deepening as his eyes lock with Buck’s. Squeezing their entwined hands as he takes a step back, increasing the space in between them. Hands anchoring them together, even still, and Buck appreciates it. His heart jumps in his chest as he squeezes back.
“Oh yeah?” Buck flirts, eyes shining as he looks over at Tommy, shining under the overhead lights of the bathroom. “And what are you gonna do?”
“Well I don’t know about you,” Tommy teases, releasing Buck’s hand and smiling. A coy little tilt to his mouth, shining eyes. “But I figured I’d start here.”
And then he’s locking eyes with Buck, gaze darkening, as he reaches an arm behind his head to grip at his shirt and pull it over his head. Buck watches the shifting his muscles as he rolls out his shoulders, the grin on Tommy’s face as he shakes out his hair. As he puts on a little show knowing that Buck is watching.
Trailing down the length of his body, his pecs — shining with sweat, his abs, the trail of hair that dips below his shorts. Buck licks his lips, smirking back at his boyfriend.
“You sure I can’t just stay right here?” Buck teases with a tilt of his head. Angles his body, flexes his restless hands. “Keep watch. Make sure you don’t hurt yourself. I-I’m a firefighter, you know?”
Tommy huffs out a laugh, face crinkling up in that now achingly familiar way as he throws his damp shirt to the ground. Neither of them watch to see where it lands. “I’ll be fine. You can look all you want later.”
“You promise?” Buck flirts, deepening his voice and eyes darkening as he roams his gaze over Tommy’s naked torso.
"I promise," he says, smirking back over at his boyfriend. Teasing. Flirting. Just the way Buck likes.
"I'm gonna hold you to to that," Buck teases back, delaying the inevitable moment where he rips his gaze away from Tommy. From his now exposed chest, the sweaty tanned planes of his skin. Exposed and tempting. He bites his lip, eyes wandering over Tommy one last time. Drinks in the sight of him, the feel of his gaze locked with his.
He eventually gives in and turns to the shower. Opens the door and turns the water on, fidgeting with the controls. Trying to find the sweet pot between too hot and too cold.
Tommy, Buck was learning, was almost always cold. Always wearing an undershirt, or had a jacket thrown over his outfit. Always had a throw blanket draped over the back of his couch, or pulled over his legs. Thrived in the hot summer sun, and loved his showers scorching hot.
Buck was fine with the cold. If anything, the LA sun was an adjustment for him. Was walking around in shirts when everyone else was donning long sleeves. Layers. Found there was nothing wrong with a cool refreshing shower.
Hence, the need to find the sweet spot between not too hot, and not too cold. Logically Buck knew as soon as they were both in the shower together their attention would be drawn away from as something as simple as temperature. Towards sweat and skin and the heat of their bodies pressed together. But he couldn't help but try. Try and make it good for Tommy, for himself, for the both of them together. Find the sweet spot that worked for the both of them.
He wanted to make it work.
Logically he knows that it’s just a shower, that they’ll be distracted soon anyway, but he can’t help but want to make it good for Tommy. Make the water a little hotter than normal, just for him. Show Tommy that he wants to take care of him too, that he’s learning things about Tommy and he wants to keep learning.
There’s a rustle of clothes behind him, a squeak of shoes against tiled floors, barely audible over the sound of the now running shower. Buck bites his lip, barely holding back a grin, as he dutifully continues adjusting the water. Arm reaching in, feeling the water run over his hand. Wet and heating up quickly.
He’s barely focusing on the water. Letting the rush of water splashing against tile wash over him like white noise, absently adjusting the temperature and pressure of the water as he focuses on the sounds behind him. Of Tommy toeing off his shoes and peeling off his socks, placing them in a pile by the door. In that way Buck is noticing he almost always does. His stomach swoops at the thought — that Tommy’s been around enough for Buck to start to notice more of his habits.
Then Buck swears he hears the sound of Tommy’s gym shorts hitting the floor, and he can’t hold back the sharp inhale of air. Warm and cloying with steam, holding in his lungs.
Buck makes himself keep looking at the shower.
Hair at the back of his neck standing on end, goosebumps rolling down his arm as he feels Tommy’s presence behind him. Sweaty, naked, so fucking hot — and Buck’s not looking at him. The unspoken rule that they’ve created, when Tommy took the lead and told him to turn around. Start the shower.
Heat pooling low in his gut, that familiar itch burning underneath his skin, Buck’s in the middle of giving in and turning around anyway when he feels it. His hands on his waist, thick and calloused and burning into his side through the thin fabric of his shirt. Breath hitching as he feels the sheer presence of Tommy behind him.
Tilting his head to try and get a look at his boyfriend behind him, holding in place as Tommy slowly presses closer to him. He catches a glimpse of him smirking, face crinkling up in that way it does, before Tommy squeezes his waist and closes the distance between them.
Buck gasps as he feels Tommy press up behind him, all hard muscles and sweaty skin. Calloused hands holding him tight as Tommy’s cock presses up against his ass. One hand still braced in the shower, feeling the rush of water; the other reaching backwards to try and get a hold of any part of Tommy. To press him even closer, to feel his skin burning into his.
Now that he has this, now that he knows this about himself, Buck really doesn’t know how he didn’t realise this earlier. His attraction to men, and masculinity, and the way it made him feel. Broad shoulders and hands larger than his. Hard muscles and hairy bodies.
But a part of him actually really likes that Tommy was the one who helped him realise. That he’s not just attracted to men, he’s attracted to Tommy. He likes Tommy’s broad shoulders and mechanics hands. His muscles and the snail trail that leads down his abdomen. He likes his short hair and 5 o’clock shadow. He likes the way Tommy makes him feel. He likes the way Tommy shows up for him. To dinner, and to the café, and to hopefully many more.
He really likes the way Tommy is now kissing down his throat, leaving wet marks in his wake. Hands still on his waist, body pressed against him, enveloping his. Buck groans, tilts his head to give Tommy more room, and starts to rut backwards.
“I can’t help but feel,” Buck gasps, as Tommy nips at his skin and quickly soothes the mark with his tongue. “That I’m overdressed.”
“Oh you are, are you?” Tommy murmurs into his skin, and he can feel the sounds vibrating through them, rumbling his chest. “I can fix that.”
And the his hands are dipping lower, skating along his sides before pushing up the hem of his shirt. Achingly slow at first, skin on skin contact sending a shiver down Buck’s spine. Calloused hands sending out sparks. That itch under his skin building again, rising and burning with each inch of skin Tommy touches.
His boyfriend laughs behind him, calls him impatient, before kissing his neck again. And then they’re stripping him down, faster now, hands on waists and chests and grasping at fabric. Tommy pulling off his shirt and Buck kicks off his shoes, not caring where they land. He thinks he absently hears them thump on the wall before Tommy gets his hands on his shorts and all of a sudden Buck is very distracted.
He absently thinks how hot it would be if Tommy just ripped his shorts right off his body, as he grips onto the shower while Tommy slides his shorts and his underwear down his legs in one fell swoop. Hands gripping the waistbands, fingers curled under the elastic, pressed into his bare skin.
As soon as he’s free he grabs Tommy’s wrist and pulls, sending the two of them tumbling into the shower. Water burning hot, soothing worn out muscles and sweaty skin. Tommy dutifully following behind, closing the door behind him.
They instantly forget about the water. Focusing on sweat and skin and soap and their two bodies pressing together. Water soaked kisses where their spit mixes with the spray of the shower. Slick bodies moving in tandem, and yet rooted to the spot.
Tommy’s planting his feet and bracing an arm on the wall behind Buck. He’s making sure they don’t slip, that Buck’s safe in his arms. And if anything, that’s what drives Buck to determination. To grasp their cocks in one hand, to want to make Tommy gasp and moan and grunt as he comes apart.
He loves the noises Tommy makes. Cataloguing them in his head, making note of what he can do to pull a noise out of Tommy. Figuring out what he likes and what he loves. The exploration, the figuring things out has always been a favourite part of sex for Buck. He’s a good fuck, he knows this, but it’s the exploring what his partners like and wants is what really drives him. It’s not enough to be a good fuck in general, he wants to be a good fuck to them.
To Tommy.
He wants to be good for Tommy. To hear him groan and moan Buck’s name. To hear him say perfect, and right there, just like that, and you’re so good to me Evan.
There’s going to be a lot of soft, tender sex in their future, Buck knows this for certain. Doesn’t even have to ask. Tommy will pick him up and carry him upstairs like he weighs nothing, gently lowering him down onto his bed, gaze soft and loving. They’re going to fuck face to face, so Buck can hold Tommy’s hand and they can kiss each other senseless. Slow and sensual, the two of them sinking into the moment as they sink into each other. Kissing all the words that are too soon to say into each other’s mouths.
Buck can’t fucking wait.
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demonic0angel · 2 days
Text
Celestial Bodies AU (5/?)
(Part one, part two, part three, part four. Also on AO3)
Robin sighed as he sat in the passenger seat beside Batman. Another night of patrol had ended semi-peacefully with thankfully no injuries, but Batman still didn't look happy. He was still in the process of accepting Robin as his partner again, and it tired him out trying to mediate and smooth sharp edges. Everything was just exhausting.
The both of them began turning into the cave, where Nightwing was already standing next to the computers when both Batman and Robin entered. He seemed to have just finished his own patrol, but was still in his uniform.
Robin paused when he saw him.
He looked angry.
That was what usually happened between Nightwing and Batman. The two of them fought like dogs and cats over Robin’s presence and training. When one suggested one thing, the other would argue like their lives depended on it.
(In a way, it did. Robin’s life depended on it.
… or at least, Robin’s life had depended on it.)
Sometimes, he understood why Nightwing was so angry.
If he was disobedient, he could get injured. He didn’t know how many times Nightwing had pushed that idea into his head.
(And although Tim wished he was, he was not Jason. That Robin would never come back, no matter how much Batman tried to pretend he did.)
Both Batman and Robin exited the car and Robin went straight towards Nightwing.
“Hey,” Nightwing called out, his grimace switching out to a small smile, just like a performer would, “how was patrol?”
“It’s been an easy night tonight,” Robin said, peeling off his mask to give Nightwing a smile. “How was yours?”
Nightwing gave a singular nod and then a shrug.
So probably nothing worth noting either.
Batman was silent, taking off his gloves and cape on the other side of the cave.
Robin studied Nightwing’s face.
He was a pretty boy through and through, with long hair in a mullet style and a light smile on his face that made him shine like the sun. To Robin, Nightwing was his goal and his idol. He wanted more than anything to show him that his decision to allow and help him become Robin was not a mistake.
He looked right back at Robin, his eyes considering.
“Nightwing,” Robin began carefully, “did you want to tell me something?”
There was a beat of silence.
Nightwing paused. Then he nodded slowly, “Actually, yes. I wanted to ask you if you wanted to meet the cluster.”
Robin's eyes widened.
The Phantom Cluster was an important part of the Justice League’s history and the survival of the planet. Every time something apocalyptic was about to occur, the King of the cluster would warn the Justice League. On occasion, they would also communicate with their hosts through dreams and visions, and prevent even more disasters.
The hosts of the Phantom clusters were only Robins. No matter how much any other hero tried to appeal to them, the stars only favored the wards under Batman.
Though they also seemed to like the younger heroes a lot, having no problem helping them. Tim had heard that Dick’s star had given his personal approval for Starfire and had actually watched out for the Teen Titans before.
The cluster had always loved the Robins.
(Nightwing had called his bonded star, "mine," and his star had responded back in kind. Jason's nickname for his own star was supposedly "Princess." She had called him "dearest" and from what Nightwing would say, their bond was very strong.
It made something inside of Tim ache.)
Essentially, this was possibly an invitation for Tim to get his own star, if it was true that the cluster bonded to all Robins.
Batman, however, whipped his head around and snarled. “Absolutely not! You are forbidden from seeing the cluster!”
Nightwing’s attitude immediately changed as well. He rolled his eyes and snapped, “Who are you to decide that? You don’t have a damn leg to stand on!”
Robin eyed him. He suddenly felt his heart twinge at the thought that it was his fault that he made them start arguing again. The two of them continued arguing and it wasn’t until Alfred came down into the cave that he spoke up.
“Okay, okay. It was just a suggestion. All of the previous Robins met the cluster, so what's the big deal?" He said, trying to defuse the situation.
“Yes,” Batman spat, “all of the previous Robins met the cluster, and one of them died.”
Robin winced.
“Don’t you dare blame them for Jason,” Nightwing snarled. “If I can’t blame you, you can’t blame them either. They lost a sibling too!”
Robin did not speak again as he thought about the situation.
He wanted to meet them. All of the files on the Batcomputer about the Phantom Cluster had him locked out. All he knew was that it was a cluster made of sentient stars and planets and two of them had chosen an individual Robin to keep as a “host”. When Jason had died, his star had died with him. Everything else were anecdotes from Dick, who clearly loved them and his star very much.
But in order to be Robin, he also needed to meet them. The cluster made deals with all of the previous Robins. Now that there was a new one, would things be easier if he also became a host with a star?
(And maybe, just maybe, Bruce will accept him if he had a star of his own too.)
Robin started to speak again, "I—"
“No. That cluster has been nothing but trouble. Robin, I forbid you to go!” Bruce roared.
Robin gulped and shivered. The pure rage in Batman’s tone suddenly made him worried for what he was going to do. Nightwing wrapped a protective arm around him and pulled him back.
“The Cluster has never hurt a Robin before.”
“He. Will. Not. Be going,” Batman growled.
Alfred coughed into a fist and everyone shut up and looked at him. Robin tried not to move but he couldn’t help but try to press closer to Nightwing.
"Master Bruce," Alfred said sternly, "may I speak with you?"
Bruce wilted and then trudged after the true patriarch of the Wayne family.
It was almost funny, but Robin was still tense as Nightwing glared at the retreating back of their mentor and guardian. Alfred turned slightly to wink at him, and he relaxed with a faint smile.
Robin stared at Nightwing.
"... Nightwing?" He asked carefully.
Nightwing softened further as he looked at him. "Yes, Tim?"
"... it's okay if I don't go, right?"
Nightwing's eyebrows immediately went up to his hairline. It was like he couldn't believe that he would not want to go see the cluster.
Robin grimaced. He corrected himself hurriedly, "I mean— I want to go, but—"
"Tim, it's okay. If you don't want to go, it's fine. But to be honest, I'd rather have you go at least once. The cluster... they've always been allies of us Robins. I'd like you to meet my star, at least."
Us Robins. That thought made Robin pause.
Nightwing always tried to be accommodating and gentle with him. The thought of disappointing him gave him determination.
Robin shook his head and said in a firm tone, "No, I want to go."
Nightwing grinned. "Let's go now, then."
Robin glanced back at where Alfred and Batman had left.
"Don't worry about him. I'll take care of it, okay? I'll say that I forced you or something. B is just a paranoid asshole."
Robin's lips twitched but he nodded quickly and followed Nightwing. The two of them entered the teleportation tube that was installed in the cave and then away they went.
When they landed in the space station, Nightwing immediately locked the doors so nobody would enter.
Robin eyed him. Nightwing gave an innocent smile back and said, "It's just in case he decides to come after us."
Robin didn't say a word as Nightwing lead them through the metal halls before they finally ended up in the main room, where windows covered all of the walls, revealing a beautiful starry world outside of the space shuttle.
Robin gasped as he stared out the window at the close stars and planets. They were so close that Robin could almost see the surface of each star move and shift. Thankfully, the tinted windows allowed them to look directly at them.
"Hello, my star," Nightwing breathed and the stars remained silent. Nightwing didn't seem angry, just sad as he pressed his forehead and left hand to the glass, sighing.
Beyond the glass, the stars inched around an empty space, where the Jason's star used to stay.
Robin bit his lip again.
Jason's death had not only hurt Batman and Gotham, but also the heavens.
He might not have known it, but he was so very loved.
Nightwing exhaled again and then stood up straight. He looked at Robin with a thin smile and beckoned him forward.
"Come on. They don't bite."
Robin came forward, eyes darting towards the stars with silent awe and reverence. The stars and planets glittered and shone with a brilliance that matched the Sun, and Robin couldn't help but stare at the sentient celestial objects that floated in the sky.
"They're beautiful, right?" Nightwing said, and it startled him out of his thoughts.
"Yeah. They are," he agreed, because if he said otherwise, it would've been a lie.
It was awe-inspiring (and a little bit terrifying) to see somethings so big and large that were benevolent enough to help them.
It made Robin feel smaller than ever.
Nightwing hummed.
The communicator crackled then, taking away the sound of ocean waves and faint TV static.
Nightwing whipped his head around and Robin followed, staring between the communicator and the window, where the stars lied in silence.
"Hello," a thousand voices called and a shiver ran down Robin's spine.
Like the chorus of angels, a symphony of voices, a choir of sirens, the voices were soft and gentle.
They sounded sad. Tired. Wane.
Robin felt like it was odd that he understood what they were feeling, but he said nothing as he looked at Nightwing's face, which was tinged with the same exhaustion in the stars' tones.
"Hello. This is..." Nightwing gestured to him, "Robin. I'd like to introduce you to him."
The sound of ocean waves again. Robin felt his stomach swoop and drop.
Had they rejected him?
He knew he wasn't Jason, but he had to do it. In order for Batman to be the best hero that he could be for Gotham's sake, he needed a Robin.
Nightwing placed a hand on his shoulder and Robin tried to breathe past the panic.
The voices came back and said, ".... we know."
A different voice differentiated itself from the rest. It was distinctly masculine and adult-sounding, unlike the androgynous and childish voices of the others.
"My Nightwing," the voice called softly and Nightwing beamed.
"My star," he returned the call with a nod and a smile.
Nightwing's star continued, "Our little sister wants to make a deal with Robin. If he wants."
Robin startled. "Who?"
Hope filled inside of him. He wasn’t rejected after all!
Nightwing chuckled. "The little sister of the cluster is the protostar. That one, right there."
He pointed outside, towards a small, bow-tie shaped cloud of dust and gas, all of it converging into one center. She spun and consumed nebula swiftly, but did not move otherwise.
"That's the little sister?" Robin tilted his head.
She was oddly... vulnerable. With the way the other stars and planets circled the point of their cluster, and the way they directed the nebula towards her, they were clearly very protective of her.
"Yep," Nightwing said, but he was quickly interrupted.
There was a crackle from the communicator and then an angry hum like that of a buzzing hornet. Robin flinched and looked at Nightwing, who suddenly burst out laughing.
"My star! Please, Robin isn't going to take her away!"
Another angry hum, though less loud and more indignant.
Robin blinked and then relaxed. His lips twitched and he asked, "Is your star jealous that I'm looking at her?"
"He's the most jealous star I know," Nightwing said, in a loud and teasing tone that was clearly meant to be heard by the stars. "Such a sis-con."
Robin snorted, suddenly feeling a little better. He looked at Nightwing, who now looked more relaxed and encouraging. "You can talk to them," he said. "I promise, they're nice."
Robin nodded firmly and stepped up the communicator. "Uhm. Hello," he said, then winced from the awkwardness.
Silence again, and then, a soft, "Hello, Robin."
The word “Robin” was said with so much unspoken affection that it made him flustered. He stuttered then, but as Nightwing looked at him encouragingly, he continued.
Robin took a deep breath and said slowly, "I'd like to make a deal with the protostar, if that's okay. I can't promise that I'll be a good host, but I promise that I'll be the best host I can be. I'll take care of her and Batman too."
Silence.
Robin glanced back at Nightwing, who was grinning widely and giving an enthusiastic double thumbs-up.
Robin turned back as the communicator crackled once more and then the stars said, "Okay."
One voice in particular, softer than the others and lighter, spoke up then. "Let's make a deal, Robin."
She sounded tired, like she was struggling to stay awake and Robin felt his tone softening as he spoke to her, "Okay. I'll make a deal with you. We'll protect each other, okay?"
The protostar said softly, "I'll protect you."
Robin knew that she purposefully did not mention how he would protect her. He knew it, and he felt like he should've said something to make it fair, but the reassurance that she would be there for him suddenly made him breathless. He felt like he was robbed of all oxygen as he stared at the sky and suddenly understood why Nightwing was so fiercely and deeply protective of the cluster, even against Bruce.
They were kind. So very kind despite being cursed children who had become stars.
"Okay," he said slowly, already feeling a deep affection for his star blooming in his chest, "okay."
He instinctively put his hand on the glass and a bright light, flashing and fast, shot out of the nebula cloud she was consuming and flew towards him. It struck the glass and hot warmth entered Robin's body and then into his side.
He paused, taking a deep breath to calm his heart from racing before he opened his tunic, already knowing where the fated mark was.
On his left side, around the area of his ribs, was a four pointed star, white and pastel yellows and blues slowly tattooing itself into his side.
He beamed. "Dick! Look!" He had accidentally called him by his civilian identity, but Nightwing didn't seem to care as he bound forward and then picked him up and twirled him around.
"You did it! You've got your own star!"
Robin beamed.
He was accepted as a Robin and got his very own star from the Phantom cluster!
He wished he could've heard them singing, like Nightwing used to talk about, or maybe made a deal with his star in happier circumstances, but this was nice too.
Nightwing was still cheering and celebrating, but Robin couldn't help but look out past the stars. His protostar spun in place a little, looking a little more cheerful and he smiled.
"Thank you, Robin," she whispered and Robin grinned.
"No, thank you.... partner." That seemed like a good nickname for her.
A beat of silence from her and then she said, in a slightly more upbeat tone, "You too, partner!"
"Pfftt— you're like a couple of cowboys," Nightwing muffled his laugh.
Robin rolled his eyes and shoved him lightly. "Shut up, Dick. You're the one with the creepy, "my star" thing."
Nightwing gasped and put a hand to his chest dramatically.
"Y'know what? You're grounded! I won't take this slander anymore!"
Robin laughed and as the tension bled out from previous days of mourning and grief, he almost wanted to believe that things would be okay again.
He looked out the sky, as Nightwing put him in a headlock, and watched the stars begin to move slowly, as if suddenly gaining the energy to do so.
He watched that empty hole in space be avoided and he thought of Jason again.
No matter what would happen, he would make him and the stars proud.
————
Bruce seemed resigned when he came back bonded. He didn't say anything and just went to his room. Usually, Tim would've been worried, but he wasn't too concerned since he was so excited about having a star for himself.
Dick gave him the codes to unlock the files on the Phantom Cluster and Tim dove right in without hesitation.
He researched everything he could about the cluster, from what they told the Justice League, from Dick's own secret files that he sent over into his computer, from astronomy websites, and he even hacked into NASA's database on stars and astronomical bodies.
Tim finally found another purpose besides being Robin.
He was his star's host.
Being a host for a star belonging to the Phantom Cluster meant many things. For one, their condition reflected on their stars.
If Robin was whole and healthy, so would his star. If he was sick or tired, it would show on his star too.
For another, being a host meant being protected and watched over by the stars.
Nightwing had mentioned before that sometimes, the stars gave them powers. Robin had a hypothesis that with each host being bonded to a star, the powers that they were able to gain grew stronger or increased, since he discovered new abilities that were not recorded since he was bonded to his own star.
A lot of it were minuscule, barely able to make a difference unless it was a split second thing, when Robin miraculously needed just a little push to solve a mystery, fight crime, evade a dangerous situation, or defeat a bad guy.
Nightwing had mentioned before that he had never had a bad landing after being bonded, and that he had a small immunity to heat and fire. He had also said that sometimes, bullets would mysteriously be unable to hit him, but this was a hit-or-miss thing (quite literally) and didn't always happen, so Robin still had to be able to dodge well.
In the reports, the previous Robin mentioned how he would occasionally get brief, sporadic dreams of the future. Every once in a while, he would sleepwalk, and as if possessed, wake up with a new plan, an unknown secret, or an important clue in the morning. After the previous Robin had gotten his star, Nightwing had supposedly gained the same ability on the occasion, and even Robin discovered that ability, which proved his hypothesis.
Robin himself, had odd bouts of good luck, often causing him to end fights or solve cases even faster than Batman could. At other times, the good luck manifested in things like finding an unusual number of heads-facing pennies that were printed in 1943, or finding lost items whenever he lost them. When Robin fell asleep, nightmares were scarce and he would sometimes feel a weight against his side, as if he was resting next to someone with their head on his shoulder.
(When he woke up, he would feel refreshed, but with a slightly melancholy and loneliness. He wondered if it was from his star.)
Robin wanted to be depended on. He wanted to be important and loved and cared for, and his star was everything he wanted.
For her, he wanted to improve.
He trained under several masters, he made enemies and friends, he joined other hero teams, and he even created his own team, the Young Justice. Bruce’s team grew too, with Cass and Stephanie and others joining them in order to help Gotham City.
Every day, he grew older and his star grew alongside him, an eternal beacon.
She spun and whirled like a hurricane, absorbing and eating nebula and growing stronger, almost converging into a sphere as if she was about to begin her transformation into a star.
And then everything changed when Jason's star came back.
————
Both he and Dick had been in the space shuttle when she had reappeared.
The black mass that used to be the quasar still remained, still and quiet, but the other stars seemed to have gain energy from her silent presence. They spun around her happily, as she loomed over them with her inky presence, bending light around her like a lightless black hole.
With her arrival, it meant that Jason had come back.
And with Jason’s return, so did the Batman’s interest in the stars.
“How do they know?” He growled, as they poured over information and audio logs of the interviews of the stars. “How do they know what happens? Did they know that Jason would die and come back?”
Nightwing glared at him, but said tersely, “I don’t know. From what we know, their ability to read the future comes from Clockwork. He visits them and tells them information.”
Robin lifted his eyes up from the paper, which had a picture of his star on it.
“We’ve never seen Clockwork before, have we? We don’t know much about him either.”
“He seems to be an authority figure or warden for the cluster. They speak highly of him, but are purposefully vague,” Nightwing mused, rubbing his chin in thought. “I think I remember my star mentioning once that Clockwork helped him with his past.”
“So… he’s probably also a parental figure,” Robin said, and Nightwing nodded thoughtfully.
Batman looked exhausted, his cowl pulled down off of his head as he bent over the table with an almost inaudible creak of his back and stared intensely at the papers.
Jason’s star had come back, but there were no traces of Jason except an empty grave. They had all been too late when arriving at his grave, only to be met with a coffin that had been broken in from the inside. Whatever had happened, Jason had dug himself out on his own.
Robin knew that it killed Nightwing and Batman inside to imagine the boy they considered as family carving himself out of his own coffin.
The two of them were almost inconsolable at first, but they quickly gathered themselves up again and started investigating.
The cluster was surprisingly unhelpful, not even answering Nightwing when he asked questions about Jason. The only thing his star had said was, “Be patient.”
It was such a hauntingly simple and frustrating answer, exactly like what one would expect coming from an all-powerful and all-knowing being that lived for an unknown amount of years stuck with a child’s mind. Nightwing and Robin did not begrudge them, knowing that they were also protecting the quasar's secrets and bond with the other Robin, but Batman could not say the same.
Of course, they didn’t let that hold them down.
For the first time, Robin had been able to hear the song of the stars.
It was gorgeous. It was still soft, like waking up from a deep sleep, and sometimes it cut off like a bad connection, but Nightwing had looked relieved at the sound of it.
“There’s still another voice missing,” Nightwing had said sadly, “Jason’s quasar— her voice isn’t in the song.”
It already sounded so nice, with the melodic voices of the stars and planets and Dick’s star singing along, so if the loss of one voice was making it incomplete, just how beautiful was the sound when they were all together?
For many reasons, Robin wanted to find Jason.
He was reluctant to continue being Robin for awhile, but Nightwing convinced him to stay.
Once Jason was back, he would give back the suit.
“There’s something we’re missing,” Batman said slowly. “We need to review the facts.”
Nightwing nodded and looked at Robin encouragingly.
Robin began, “Okay. So on XX, XX of this year, we discovered that Jason Todd was revived or in some capacity, alive due to his star returning. He… dug his way out of the coffin himself, but has disappeared for now. The cluster seems to be aware of his movements and location, but is not planning to tell us where or why. The question is, how did Jason come back to life? Where is he, and if he's not in Gotham, did someone take him?”
Nightwing sighed. “We don’t have a lot of information. It’s just a whole bunch of what-ifs and wheres.”
Batman was silent, brooding.
Robin thought some more and then asked, slowly, “Have we reviewed the footage of the cluster before? What if… what if Jason’s star didn’t come back at the time that we thought?”
Nightwing blinked. “What do you mean?”
Batman, however, nodded suddenly. “I think I see what you’re saying. We should review the footage. Nightwing, maybe the time you noticed the star coming back isn’t accurate.”
“What! But I had been coming there every day!” Nightwing said, but then paused. His eyes went wide, and then rushed to the computer.
Batman patted Robin on the shoulder, making warmth ooze in his chest. Batman said with a cold, but vaguely grateful expression, “Good job on the new lead, Robin.”
Robin beamed.
They rewound the camera footage of the cluster which were all kept in the files, since Dick liked rewatching them.
And just as Robin suspected, it was true.
The empty space where the quasar had sat before her demise had not been as empty as Nightwing had thought. For at least a few days before her return as a black star, she had been very small and only noticeable in how light slightly bent around her tiny shape.
She had been shadowed and covered by her siblings until her final reveal and Jason’s ultimate return.
Nightwing covered his face. He seemed to be struggling to find the words on what to say.
Eventually, he said, strangled, “I should’ve looked closer. If I had known, we would’ve found Jason sooner!”
Batman sighed. “Don’t beat yourself up.” Both Robin and Nightwing looked at him with surprise. He sighed again and said, “I am… aware that I‘ve been upset and hostile of the Phantom Cluster. But ultimately, you are still bonded with them and they still offer you some semblance of protection. I am... also grateful that they gave us a chance to know that Jason is back. At least we know now that Jason had dug himself out a few days earlier.”
The three of them looked at each other.
Jason was going to be found and brought back to them. No matter what.
A few months later, almost 6 months after Jason's return, the silent mass that was Jason’s star suddenly bloomed into a protostar, larger than Robin’s. She was a ginormous, funneling top of blue and red nebula, quickly consuming the stellar remnants in the galaxy.
“… what does this mean?” Nightwing muttered as he stared at the footage of her new form. The other stars were cheerfully circling around their sibling again, their song now joined in by their returned sister. “Is he back for real? Was he not back before? Does this mean that he wasn't himself or something?"
Robin was silent, listening to the song. True to Nightwing’s words, the song was beautiful and ethereal.
It was a heaven’s choir, a siren’s song, a mother’s lullaby. It was beautiful in all sorts of ways. The sound was cold and sent shivers down his spine but oddly enough, he welcomed it.
“Do you think he’s… mad?” Robin asked. He felt strangely serene as he listened to the song of the stars.
“… hm?”
“Do you think Jason is mad that I’m Robin and that’s why he’s not coming home?”
Nightwing stared at him with such horror and disbelief that Robin quickly backtracked.
“It’s fine. He’s going to come home,” his tone was firm, hiding his inner insecurities. “The stars foretell it.”
Time passed and Jason’s star remained as a protostar, his own star often twirling around her in happy circles. Both sisters were cute to look at, especially because one was so big and the other was so small. The two of them spun cheerfully around each other, being fed nebula by their family, and Robin watched it all.
Of course, while the stars were in stasis, he was not.
He continued his duties as Robin, made secrets between only Nightwing and the stars, helped others and lived on, even when his mom was killed and his dad was paralyzed and in a coma. He could not prevent it because he had not known.
It was a cruel, cruel fact that the heavens did not care for civilian lives when they were lost.
(The stars did not care much for anyone but the Robins. It was a thought both flattering and terrifying.)
When his dad found out about him being Robin, he was forced to quit. He handed his uniform to Stephanie to keep safe for him, and then he was… normal again.
His protostar seemed unhappy with the decision, but thankfully not with him, because when he climbed onto the roof of the Drake manor to talk to her, she responded back just as eagerly as always. However, she had stopped moving, a sign of either displeasure, discomfort, or something from the future.
“Do I come back to being Robin?” He remembered whispering to her one night, and her answering twinkle made his heart swell.
He liked feeling important, but he also never truly wanted it. The pain and suffering that came from being a hero truthfully scared him. It was only the thought of Batman and Nightwing, as well as his star, that kept him from quitting all together when he first found out that Jason was back.
But he could admit to himself that he liked the feeling of flying through the air, beating bad guys, and saving people. He liked the feeling of recognition and attention.
He didn’t mind not being a hero for a little while. At least he knew that he would come back in the future.
Soon, Stephanie donned the Robin uniform, and at first, Tim could admit that he had been worried. She was reckless and foolhardy, but she was a good person with a keen eye for puzzles and problem-solving. He wanted her to succeed and in order to do so, she needed to meet the cluster.
It had been him who introduced her to her own celestial object and he was also the one who taught her about the Phantom Cluster and their abilities.
The both of them bonded over endearing and anthropomorphic astronomical bodies and Tim was the one who taught her to be Robin too, since Batman seemed insistent on kicking her down. It was difficult to make plans while Tim’s dad was also adamant on driving Stephanie away, but they made it work.
It was a peaceful night, as Tim snuck onto his roof and Stephanie quickly followed with a picnic blanket that was spread over his house shingles. It had been years since the both of them first met and then began working together in the hero scene, boosting each other up with their stars by their side. Now they were good friends after dating for a while and then Tim breaking up with her due to his change in status from a vigilante to civilian.
As they were chatting under the moon, with a tablet holding footage of their respective celestial objects, everything changed.
The song of the stars had cut off slowly, grinding to a halt and making both of them pause in their conversation.
“Uh. They just stopped singing. What does that mean?” Stephanie asked nervously.
Tim stared at the tablet and reached over to bring it closer. “… sometimes it means that there’s something we need to know or something is happening. I wonder what’s going on.”
He knew that Dick was also mostly likely noticing something was up as well.
Both Stephanie and Tim stared at the tablet in silence, tension building as nothing happened yet. The stars and planets slowed down and Tim’s star even stopped spinning, motionless.
Tim’s eyes were drawn to Jason’s quasar-turned-protostar.
There was another beat of silence, and then the camera’s feed turned to white with a sudden screech.
Both of them flinched from the loud scream and then watched a supernova consume the vision of the camera. It took a while before the brightness lowered and the shrieking of metal stopped ringing through their ears.
“Oh my gosh! Look!” Stephanie shook Tim’s shoulder, but it was unnecessary because he couldn’t take his eyes off of the screen.
Jason’s quasar had turned into a frighteningly enormous star. Almost 20 times the size of Dick’s star, Jason’s star had turned into a star that was so blue, it was white. She floated in space for a moment, before she then began a slow cycle around the cluster, carefully avoiding the planets so they would not burn in her luminosity. The rest of the cluster paused, as if taking in the sight of her before following suit and then…
Song burst from the feed again.
“Whoa,” Stephanie said, in a hushed whisper, “it’s beautiful.”
Dick had once described his and his star’s growth into adulthood with new identities. He had said that his star went supernova and transformed from a black hole to a giant star.
He had mentioned how the song had changed, with the addition of a fully mature voice of an adult star.
It happened the same way this time too.
Jason’s star had a light and delicate voice, distinctly feminine and quite high. She provided a soft harmony to the song alongside Dick’s star, with the both of their adult voices enriching the sound of the other stars, who were still children.
Stephanie gave another soft sound of awe.
Tim was more focused on what this meant.
It had been four years since his death. Now that his star had changed, it meant that Jason had also changed his identity, like how Robin became Nightwing. Whatever had happened, Jason had now grown up into an adult. He had come into a new identity in the four years he had been gone, and now he had found himself and alongside with it, his star.
But a question still remained.
Where was he?
————
Tim bopped his head to the music as he bent over his desk. It was another night of peace as he stayed in his room to do his school assignments, while his dad and Danna went on another date.
He was finishing up the last of his homework when he heard the door opening in the faint distance. He took a reflex glimpse outside the window, where he saw a cloudy sky, and then poked his head out of his room.
"Dad! Are you home?"
Silence.
Tim immediately tensed. He patted his pockets for weapons but found nothing. He inched back into his room and picked up the bat that was by his door. When he finally left his room again, he tried to go for nonchalant as he called out, "Dad! Did you bring home the wings I asked for?"
He carefully made his way to the foyer. But before he could turn around the corner and look at who had entered his home, he was knocked back by a fist.
He cried out as pain bloomed on his face. He squinted through the tears, silently wondering how they could hit so hard before he swung the bat. It was stopped with a hand, but Tim maneuvered his body and then lunged forward to kick the assailant back.
He darted backwards to get some distance and stared.
It was a muscular man, all clad in leather and black kevlar with a red helmet on his head.
Tim catalogued his appearance and could not figure out who this person was.
The only person with this kind of memo was the Red Hood, which was an alias that the Joker used, but that couldn’t be possible.
"Who are you?" He snapped. "What are you looking for?"
"What? I'm looking for a who," the man hissed, his voice coming through as electronic. "I'm looking for a Robin."
Tim's stomach dropped.
He said slowly, "I think you're looking in the wrong house. Robin isn't here."
"I heard you quit, Timothy Drake. I heard you quit being Robin and gave it to some other kid. Do you think it's that easy? Do you think it's that easy to leave being Robin behind?"
Oh crap.
Tim scrambled away as the man then lunged at him. He swung the bat again and as the man blocked with a fist, Tim lashed out with another kick. The man grabbed him by the ankle with the other hand and then threw him to the side.
Tim choked on his breath as his back hit the wall, knocking down some picture panes and shattering them on the floor. His back was already starting to ache, but he didn't have time to worry about that when the man struck again, punching him in the stomach.
Tim gagged on the bile rising up his throat before he attacked back with a jab to the throat. He then kicked the man twice in quick succession, making him grunt, and darted up on his feet, dodging a hit from the man's fist again.
"Who are you?!" Tim cried out, his blood freezing in his veins at the thought of Bruce and Dick's secret being known to others.
Would this man reveal their identities? Take Tim as a hostage? Use him to blackmail Bruce?
The man laughed mechanically. He reached behind his head and unlocked the helmet with a faint hiss of air. Then he dropped the helmet onto the floor and brushed his hair back with bright green eyes and a wild smirk full of teeth like he wanted to tear Tim apart.
Tim's eyes widened.
If the familiar face shape didn't key him in, it was the four pointed star on his cheek, unmistakeable and alight with bloody orange and turquoise, that told him just who had came into his house with the intent of attacking him.
"No..." he whispered in disbelief, scrambling backwards again as his breath came out quick and panicked.
Jason had come back?
Jason was back!
If he hadn't just been beaten by him with his fists, he probably would've been happy. Now he was just extremely confused and frightened.
"Oh yes," Jason purred. He was fully grown now, well muscled and clearly trained by someone other than Batman for the last four years. "You're in luck, Robin. You're the first one I saw after being back in this hell hole."
Tim was mentally making a list of the things he needed to do.
Finally, he replied slowly, "But why? Why did you see me first? And where were you?"
"I was dead, obviously," Jason scoffed. “And I came here to ask you a few questions.”
“Okay, cool,” Tim said nervously. “Did you need to punch me to ask me questions?”
Jason didn’t answer, but instead, swung to punch him again. Tim yelped and rolled to dodge. He was barely back on his feet before Jason grabbed his hair and pulled him down, kneeing him in the stomach.
Tim coughed but also took that moment while he was bent over to drop and kick out his legs, knocking Jason off his feet.
Jason fell and Tim jumped over him to get away. He flew down the stairs and barely reached the entryway when he was pounced onto by Jason, who felt like a damn elephant as he pinned him onto the floor with his body weight.
They wrestled but Tim was so out of Jason’s weight class that it wasn’t even funny. Tim could feel the panic within him rising as he struggled and tried to get away from the previous Robin, a once beacon of hope and light for Gotham.
“You have it so easy,” Jason hissed, as he started wrestling him to the ground. “A dad, money, a good home. You never had to dig through trash for scraps. You never had to take care of your dying mom while you were starving yourself. You never had to fight for your life while being tortured!”
Tim kicked Jason in the stomach, allowing just enough space for him to throw back his elbow to his chin. Jason made a faint noise of pain, and punched him once more, but before it could escalate, the most intense feeling of nausea struck Tim.
For a moment, he wondered if he was going to throw up over the previously dead Robin’s hands, but when Jason also paused and moved away from him with a gasp, he realized that both of them were struck with the same condition.
Tim blinked rapidly as the both of them stared at each other in thinly veiled confusion and distrust. Jason suspiciously stared at him, and then looked up out the window that was placed over the door. As Tim blinked away the stars in his eyes, he was beginning to realize that it was not just stars in his vision, but also stars in the sky.
The night was now clear, allowing them both to see a patch of sky with two distinctive lights.
Both Robins, old and new, stared at the rapidly twinkling lights in the distance. There were two flashes, blinking over and over, as if trying to get their attention.
The two sat there in silence. Then Jason looked down at his wrist, which held a watch that was now projecting the image of his star. She was spinning and bursting with solar flares like crazy, enough that Jason gave a disbelieving, almost angry laugh.
"Okay, jeez, I get it, Princess. You want me to keep your sister's fucking host alive."
Tim exhaled in relief, casting his eyes over to the night sky, which held his star in the distance.
Thank the stars that she helped him.
He didn’t want to know what would happen if her and her sister couldn’t get their attention.
He silently mouthed, "Thanks, partner."
The sky twinkled noticeably one last time before it stopped.
Tim jolted when Jason suddenly bent down and started taking off his shirt.
“Excuse me?!” He shrieked, feeling the bruises ache as Jason started undressing him. He struggled weakly, but Jason was still pulling apart his clothes.
“Shut up. Where’s the damn mark?”
Just to spare himself the indignity, Tim pulled his t-shirt to present his side and snapped, “Here.”
Jason stared at the four pointed star, colored with baby blue and butter yellow, for a beat and then stood up in a huff.
Tim glared at him. He loved the Robins and he loved Batman, but that didn’t mean he was just going to forgive him for almost killing him!
"Where are your medical supplies?" Jason asked, looking around his room.
Tim grimaced and said, "The kitchen."
“Where?”
He eyed him with distrust. Jason put his hands on his hips and waited.
“…. In the left cabinet next to the stove.”
Jason went off to look for it, probably, and Tim slowly sat up, rubbing his shoulder that had been knocked against several surfaces this night, while he lifted his eyes to the window again.
His star was still there, faint due to her distance from Earth, but she was still just barely bright enough that he could find her through Gotham’s smog.
Thank the heavens for her and her sister.
Jason came back with a stomp and the emergency medical kit in his hands. He sat down next to Tim and raised a hand, palm up.
"Hand."
Tim gave it to him.
Jason opened the kit and then began to inspect, clean, and wrap up his wounds. Even for his back, Tim was asked to take off his shirt and Jason applied bruise gel all over it. Tim was tense at first, but eventually, he just kind of melted underneath Jason's hands and closed his eyes as he was taken care of by the previous Robin.
Sometimes he would ask Tim questions.
“So what do you call your star?”
“Partner. She calls me partner back too.”
“Ha! You’re like cowboys.”
“You sound like Dick.”
“Like hell I do!”
But Jason didn’t hurt him again. Tim was full-on relaxing by the end of it.
When Jason was finished, Tim was lightly dozing from the warmth of the numbing creams and the fact that it was a late night on a school day. The fact that he hadn’t been hugged or touched in a while certainly aided his sleepy haze too. Jason snorted at the sight of him and said, "Aren't you too trusting? I just beat you up."
Tim grumbled as he opened his eyes and uncurled from his position. "You're an asshole, y'know that? What was all of that even for?"
Jason sighed and said, "I changed. And... I guess… sorry. I wasn't in a right state of mind when I came here."
Tim twisted to look at him. Looking at him closer, Jason's eyes were still green, though noticeably less bright.
The shade of green was so familiar that Tim stared for a long time before he suddenly blurted out, "The league. You were with the League of Assassins!"
Jason narrowed his eyes. "I was."
"Was it Talia? Did she revive you? What happened?"
Jason looked exasperated but he nodded with a deliberately careless shrug. "I died, crawled out of my grave like a zombie, and then she picked me up. I went with her to the League and she threw me into the Lazarus Pits before training me. Now I’m here again to take back what’s mine.”
“Robin?” Tim blurted again. “I’ll give it back to you. I was going to— but someone needed to be Robin and my dad made me quit so I gave it to a friend and she became Robin for a little while, but I don’t think she’ll mind if you get it back.”
“Breathe,” Jason deadpanned, eyeing him with an unidentifiable emotion. “And I don’t care for it anymore.”
“You sure? You definitely cared about it 20 minutes ago,” drawled Tim.
Jason glared at him and Tim narrowed his eyes at him right back.
Eventually, Jason rolled his eyes and looked away. “Well, I stopped caring.” He pointed at Tim demandingly. “I don’t give a fuck what happens next, but if you tell anyone I’m here, I’ll break your damn face!”
“But why?”
Tim could understand that Jason was angry. Whatever had happened in the League had changed him for the worse, but there was still that familiar, charismatic, and caring boy inside, evident by Tim's carefully bandaged wounds (despite being the one to inflict them, but whatever). He could see that Jason was feeling vengeful too, but he didn't want Jason to be estranged from Dick or Bruce.
"I have plans," Jason said with a sneer. "Plans for Gotham that can't have B and Dick interfering."
"... are you trying to get revenge?"
"So what if I am? I died. Better yet, I was murdered. It doesn't matter what you think, I'll do what I need to do and because you're the host of my star's sister, I'll let you go this one time."
Tim thought of Bruce's brooding and endless self-blame at Jason's death. He thought of Dick's almost desperate attempts in training Tim and his neverending grief from the loss of a brother and the loss of a possible future knowing him. He thought of Alfred's silent sorrow, his eyes full of fear when Tim used to suit up in the Batcave. He thought of that period of time where Batman brutalized every criminal he came across, even the petty ones, turning Gotham into a city of rage and pain.
".... They all mourned for you," Tim said, not really knowing what outcome he was looking for by saying this,"B and Dick mourned for you. It was so bad that I had to force them to make me Robin because Batman needed him. Batman needed you."
Jason stared at him, his eyes flickering between greenish hues before he looked away, eyebrows furrowed.
“It doesn’t matter,” Jason snorted coldly. “They clearly didn't care enough if the Joker is still alive. I’m going to stay here and I’m going to kill the Joker. No one else avenged me, so I’ll just have to do it myself.”
The Joker?
Tim's breath hitched as he froze so badly that even Jason paused and raised an eyebrow at him.
Tim stared at Jason with wide eyes.
He could not help but look down slightly, at the four pointed star that covered Jason’s cheek, a mark of the heavens that bound him to a star.
Jason snarled, “What?!”
Tim said slowly, “The… The Joker’s not alive.”
When Jason’s tense posture and aggressive stance slackened into shock, Tim had to continue and say, “He died a while ago.”
Jason grabbed him by the shoulders, fingers digging into his skin as he roared, “Who did it?!”
Tim pursed his lips.
Jason could probably keep a secret, right? He didn’t believe that he would go and tell anyone, especially because….
“Nightwing did. And I helped him hide the body.”
|||||||||||||||||||||||
Check out my CB!Jason art here
Tim and Dani are partners!! Hooray!
I'm sure you can guess who Steph ends up with, hm? She’ll get her own story, dw.
Tbh, I wanted this to be a 3+1 thing with all of the other Robins bc I thought it'd be short, but then it became longer than I expected, so I just... continued writing.... 😶 I think I got too excited again.
I'm trying to write in chronological order, but the history of the Batfam is so ridiculous that idk if I can do that, but if I don't do that, I'll get confused myself, y'know? Someone please help.
The scene where Jason beats the shit out of Tim apparently comes after he reveals his identity to Bruce… so I’m going to switch it for it to make sense. He was also supposed to choke Tim in this fic, but then it got too dark… so I changed that too :9
“How come none of them could figure out that he was with the League?” They knew he was revived in the coffin, so no one thought of the Lazarus pits bc they didn’t think he was basically a zombie (suspend your disbelief, please!). Also, more info on Jazz will be in the fic with Jason’s return.
Tim was originally supposed to go with Tucker, but then I thought about it and I changed it because 1) like Dick and Jason, his star is sort of the opposite of their personality, 2) I don’t see how they’ll encourage each other to grow, 3) a secret third thing
A deeper explanation of reason 2 is on AO3.
89 notes · View notes
gilverrwrites · 3 days
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at this point we should give dick a sionis!reader and call it a day 💀 all the batboys have one now except for him (but I have no idea what his plot would look like compared to the other three)
Yeah, Jason and Tim dating with his kids and now Bruce sleeping with his ex-wife, Roman’s hatred of them is becoming more and more justified. . Can I also just add that Roman would be the most miserable girl dad. Imagining him with his 3 bastard girls and ex wife who he's still hung up on but can't win back fills me with joy and its becoming a full on AU in my head.
Anyway, okay, so hear me out with my pitch; Jason/The Rebellious child, Tim/The Favourite child, Dick/The forgotten child
Specifically, one who has tried so hard all their life to not be. Even more specifically, a dancer, a singer, maybe a triple threat. It’s not that you need the attention, you’re good at what you do, you get the parts, you have a small fanbase, you’ve won some minor awards. But just once you’d like to look out into the crowd and see your father or your siblings out there cheering for you.
You try so hard to be supportive of the rest of your family, always there for everybody. You listen to your rebellious sibling and your father bitch about each other constantly, you help them mend their bridges. Rebel is notoriously flaky, but you always step up and cover for them.
You help the favourite study. You were the only one who knew when they started seeing Tim and you helped keep it a secret.
You attend all your fathers parole hearings, all his club launches. You wear the stupid clothes and play the happy, smiling child whenever he wants to show his kids off at events.
But no matter how much you do for everyone, they never return the favour. As soon as you bring up an audition you need help with or a new show you’re in, everybody dips. Nobody takes you up on the free tickets you can get them. When you were training, Roman footed the bills and told all his buddies about his kid the dancer/singer/whatever, but not once did he show up to a single one of your recitals.
But one day, at one of his stupid galas, Dick Grayson catches you dancing by yourself on the patio outside and is instantly smitten.
“Where’s your dance partner?”
“Oh, haha. Can’t you see him? He’s right here.” You jokingly gesture to the air.
“Ah of course, hello sir. Mind if I cut in? Not at all, please be my guest.” He puts on a silly voice as he answers himself before offering a hand to you. “May I?”
And you’re sceptical at first, but you take his hand, and you let him whisk you off. You dance around in circles all evening, laughing and joking, and getting to know each other. You have the night of your life, but dating Dick Grayson seems like a bad idea, it’s not that you don’t want it, it’s just that your dad would so not approve. So, you resolve to move on, but will always remember that magical night.
Until a few weeks later, you step on stage and spot him front and centre in the audience looking elated. And although it's downright euphoric for you to see him there, you're not prepared to face him. Alas, he comes to your dressing room straight after the show anyway. Reaching you before you can sneak out, and confronting you about never calling him back.
You explain your hesitations and that golden child part of his brain understands, his heart aches for you. But he so selfishly wants to see more of you, so he gently mentions how your dad doesn’t seem to care what you do... and hey, maybe he’s out of line here and if you want to tell him to take a hike he will but all he wants is a chance to be a part of your life, can’t you spare him one date? Please?
And damn is he hard to say no too. So, you concede. And one date becomes two, then three, and so on…
It doesn’t take long for you to fall hard and fast for him. C’mon who wouldn’t?
He’s handsome, and charming, funny, smart, and superb dancer to boot.
But what really does it for you is how badly he really does wants to be a part of your life. Dick Grayson wants to dance with you anywhere and everywhere; At galas, in the rain on the way home from a date, in your kitchen at 3AM.
Dick Grayson could listen to you talk about anything and everything all day long. Doesn’t have to be performance related, but he likes it best when it is. He especially loves reminiscing about his circus days with you.
And though his job may get in the way sometimes, Dick Grayson wants to be front row at every single one of your shows. He wants to clap the loudest, and bring you flowers, and tell all of his friends, THAT’S MY BOO up there! From the moment he met you, Dick Grayson could never, ever forget you.
How we feeling about this concept?
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moist-for-xavier · 22 hours
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NSFW Alphabet for Charles Xavier
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a/n: I did Charles before he got in the wheelchair as well as after (sort of as how things changed) but then I included Charles from Days of future past as well just as another comparison
✧・゚: *✧・゚:* *:・゚✧*:・゚✧ ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
❥ before wheelchair
He was the king of aftercare. Brings you glass of water, wipes you down even picks you up to use the toilet. Usually, after getting enough strength you two take a shower and then cuddle while he drones on about some topic
❥ in a wheelchair
He has now become the pillow princess he always took care of before. Unable to get up, it’s up to you to clean him up, give him a drink and take care of yourself. But you don’t mind. Not when he looks at you like you hung the stars on the sky
❥ days of future past
The aftercare went downhill from that point. Sure, he wipes you down and gives you some water, but the cuddling depends on the situation. Most of the time, he will leave. Cuddling is too much emotional vulnerability. He’ll up and leave, expecting you to leave soon as well.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
His were always his hands. Just because he notices just how much your eyes linger on his long, veiny hands when he reaches for his temple or twirling a pen when unsure what to write
On you, it was hips. He loves watching you walk ahead of him. He loves when he sits in a wheelchair or just a normal chair and you stand between his spread legs. Just how beautiful they fit into his hands, especially if you have hip dips
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
Before he got in the wheelchair, he liked seeing it on your face or in your mouth. But one time when he finished in a condom inside you he pulled out and noticed the condom was broken and his cum leisurely leaked out of your abused hole. Since then he could only accept his cum in you or on your cunt
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
He keeps your used panties around in his pocket somewhere. As a sort of souvenir or a reminder that you love him even if he’s in a wheelchair
Another dirty secret is that he used to listen to you touch yourself. He’d enter your mind and witness the same fantasies you did so he could jerk off as well. He never told you, never will. But you know, you could feel him probing your mind
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
He wasn’t all that experienced when he first got with you before the Cuba accident. Sure, he had couple girls, maybe a guy or two, but he wasn’t a fuck boy. So you guys were pretty even
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
❥ before wheelchair
Missionary or mating press. He likes to see your face as he fucks you. Just to see your eyes roll back as he projects more filthy images right into your mind
❥ in a wheelchair
Cowgirl or reverse cowgirl. There isn’t much of a choice if we’re honest with each other. Or face sitting. He’ll die a happy man between your legs
❥ days of future past
Usually doggy or against the wall if he’s too impatient to get you into a bed or a couch. Anything facing away from him so you don’t have to look at the mess of a man he is
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
❥ before and in a wheelchair
He’s very lighthearted. It’s all about being comfortable with each other. If it means joking, then so be it. He loves seeing genuine joy on your face and under no circumstance will it ever be a boner killer for him
❥ days of future past
Very serious, very frustrated. His mood is hanging on a thread and just a small giggle for you could kill his mood
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
❥ before and in a wheelchair
Not stripped clean. Just nicely trimmed with the cutest thin happy trail up to his navel. The colour matches, just a bit darker. And you always help him trim up, it’s a binding activity at this point
❥ days of future past
It’s a jungle down there. He can’t be bothered to wash his hair more than once a week. You really think he’ll care for the carpet?
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
❥ before and in wheelchair
Very romantic. The first time you had sex he had flowers, nice dinner, calming scent and candles. He can be beautifully romantic but also nasty. Depends on what you want
❥ days of future past
No romance. He doesn’t want to waste that much energy on someone who will inevitably leave. It’s very transactional even if you’re dating. Just something to take out both of your frustrations and move on. Doesn’t want to get attached because he’s sure you’ll leave him like everyone else
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
Very much. Often. Loves to listen to you when you do it. Mutual masturbation is a common occurrence. The problem lays in the fact that after getting in the wheelchair, he’s unable to make himself cum. So it’s just a whole lot of edging until you finish him off. But during days of future past, not so much. He was way too disgusted with himself to touch himself like that. He didn’t deserve it. But then fucking you into the mattress is okay
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Professor kink, praise, face sitting, breeding, pegging, voyeurism, exhibitionism
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
His study or the bedroom. Especially now that he’s in a wheelchair, he plays it safe
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
When you call him Professor in a sultry way, ask him to guess what panties you have on or just showing him and then later giving them to him while walking away letting him know you’re bare under the pants or skirt. Telling him what you think about or just asking him to read your mind
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Complete mind control. He doesn’t want a doll to fuck, he wants you, fully conscious, able to do things on your own
Pain. He would never hurt you. Sure, a light smack on the butt when you walk past or are riding him. But anything that will bruise is a no
Pee. No.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
Will always prefer giving. He always loved the taste of your arousal, how it would drip down his chin in a stringy, sticky mess. He wants you to sit on his face every chance possible, but not just hover over, but sit properly like a chair. If he were to suffocate and die, he’d die the happiest man on earth
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
❥ before wheelchair
Slow and sensual all the way. If you ask very nicely he will go faster or harder, it’s all up to you
❥ in a wheelchair
Pretty slow as well. It’s all up to you again, but this time literally. Sure, he can rub your clit, but hips down, it’s on you. So usually it’s just nasty, slick, sticky grinding your clit into his pubes, squeezing him inside and fondling his balls
❥ days of future past
Fast and hard. Your face usually pushed into the sheets, body just a tool for him to abuse and let out all his frustrations
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
❥ before wheelchair
Yes. Absolutely. Whenever chance possible. He’s a young man with a raging libido, he’ll take every chance he could get to rearrange your insides
❥ in a wheelchair
No. Having sex in this stage is a process. Just getting it up takes a while and getting off takes even longer
❥ days of future past
Most of these encounters are quick. Just a quick transaction so he can let you go as soon as possible. In his head, you don’t want to see him after, so he makes it quick and then vanishes somewhere again to sulk and drink some more, leaving you to tend to yourself
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
❥ before wheelchair
Yes. He’ll take whatever chance you’re offering. You want to have sex in the class before he has to teach? Okay, but make it quick
❥ in a wheelchair
No. Everything has been significantly slowed down with his disability. And it would be quite difficult to execute the same rendezvouses he used to have with you, but he misses them every day
❥ days of future past
Depends. Usually not. He’d wait until Hank would leave or shut himself into his room to have his way with you. It happened once that Hank walked in on you two and since then Charles took great care to never allow that to happen again
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
❥ before wheelchair
Whole lot of stamina. Able to go for about 4 rounds, even if the last two are a bit sloppy or rushed. He can hold his orgasm for a long time the first two-three rounds, mostly focused on paying attention to your pleasure instead
❥ in a wheelchair
He can go for about 5 rounds. All of them long since he can keep himself from orgasming for a while. Unfortunately, not by choice. But since you’re the one on top and your energy isn’t endless, your thighs usually giving out before the 3rd round. You usually lay together, his hand playing with your clit and you jerking him off just until/if you get more energy to continue riding him
❥ days of future past
His stamina has been greatly deteriorated from his younger days by his alcohol abuse. He can keep up for good 2 rounds, but they don’t last long since he can’t hold his orgasm for too long
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
❥ before wheelchair
Yes. The most common one is slipping a little vibrator in and having you walk around with it buzzing softly only your clit and in you to make you nice and wet for later. Sometimes he lets you use a strap on him and peg him instead. It requires a lot of trust from him, so expect it to be brought up at least a good year into the relationship
❥ in a wheelchair
The vibrator is still someone that stuck to him. He still uses it sometimes, just not as often as before
❥ days of future past
Not really. Not much to say there, he’s too afraid to do anything in case he scares you away
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
❥ before and in wheelchair
Yes. Loves it. Loves to play with the vibrator settings. He loves projecting the nastiest sex images of you and him right into your brain. Loves to watch you squirm and face grow hot
❥ days of future past
Not really. He wants it to be over to let you go. Again, too scared he’ll drive you away by being himself
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
❥ before and in a wheelchair
Whimpers. Panting and whimpering like a dog. He’s pretty loud, it’s not usual for you to cover his mouth or kiss him to silence him
❥ days of future past
Groans and pants. He doesn’t make much noise, choosing to keep it inside. Too much vulnerability again, too worried his noises will weird you out and you’ll leave as well
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
He is a closet pervert. He will use his telepathy to project his nasty thoughts into your mind. He loves to do it while in the presence of other people, maybe some unfortunate soul that has a crush on you. He’s also willing to have sex in front of other people only to later erase their memory of it. Also likes to look up your skirts
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
Average, but very beautiful. Good length with a perfect thickness. Beautiful pale with a cute pink tip and a nice thick vein on the bottom that makes him whimper like a dog
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
❥ before wheelchair
High. Extremely high. Maybe not for sex entirely, but extremely dirty minded, all the time. And loves to show you what he’s thinking about. And it usually leads to sex
❥ in a wheelchair
It lowered down with the amount of work he has as well as the fact he can’t get it up as easy. But with enough help from you, he will deliver
❥ days of future past
Low. Really low if you’re casual. Just once a month just to get his mind off of everything is enough. But his high libido from his youth is still present. The problem comes from being too worried that he’d scare you away with it
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
❥ before and in wheelchair
He doesn’t fall asleep until you’re safely tucked into his side and asleep. It’s normal for him to stay awake reading aloud to you to help you relax before he allows himself to relax as well
❥ days of future past
He doesn’t fall asleep. You can take a nap in his bed but he won’t stay with you. He might take a nap on his own in his study
✧・゚: *✧・゚:* *:・゚✧*:・゚✧ ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
a/n: Let me know if you find any mistakes and thank you for reading <3
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crucifiedkiss · 3 days
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◌ೆ୧  ͢YOUR MAIL HAS BEEN DELIEVERED ♡
𓈒⠀⠀⁺⠀𝜗 crucifiedkiss ╱ p. jackson x gn! reader 𝜚
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ꨄ︎ hcs dating percy ⏤ ﹙meteor shower﹚ 🪽 ˖ ׁ ⁩
  ಲ ͏ㅤ ׅㅤㅤcw: show!percy (i havent read the book(s) ...), season not specified, fluff, ooc (proudly), water && swimming, kissing (underwater), extremely cheesy/cringey type loveㅤ✿𝅼
( 。>﹏<) "on my grind ?22??!1 i love percy sm someone pls lock my phone away 😞 i drank tons of coffee today god help me pls (I POSTED IT BY ACCIDENT THE FIRST TIME RAHHH)" ⏤ c.k. と
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𝜗୧ ּ݂⠀💌 dating percy jackson would include ﹗
   ⏤  him practically showing u off with the most smug look ever ... like, "yeah, this is my partner– u guys could never :3" cause he is so goofy like that. probably on purpose does rlly romantic things with u near others just to either embarrass u or ,,, well ,,, yeah, rlly just to embarrass u honestly. the way he giggles at u when u push him away and say sorry for his behavior is so silly. whilst doing the romantic thing (ie. hugging u from behind) he sticks his tongue out at the person u were talking to like "haha i have their attention and u dont !!!" cause he is just a little mischievous guy – does rlly cheesy things ESPECIALLY😭 no matter if the view on him gets damaged for being to lovey/immature !! he loves to annoy u lowk.
   ⏤  him being like, rlly clingy and pda a 12/10 ^^" (as u can see) (the extra 2 is CRUCIAL). literally stuck to ur side and follows u around like a lost puppy even tho he is a literal demigod very capable of, like, everything pretty much ... besides archery seemingly. absolutely SMITTEN ,,, head over heels type smitten. grins from ear to ear just at seeing u be happy !! expect him to be like, everywhere near u, if its possible with his schedule and urs. he carries lotion around EVERYWHERE just so his hands r smooth enough for u to hold his hand, even if u would hold his hand without.
   ⏤  him dragging u out ur cabin at midnight, being way past curfew, and taking u to the beach to go swimming. the amount of times u guys have almost gotten caught is insane😓 the way percy loudly shushes u–him being louder then u when doing so but whatevs–and stays quiet for a moment to listen if that was a false alarm or not, swearing he heard a little rustle, but it ending up half the time being nothing (if it is someone he dunks his head underwater .. hope u can breath underwater for a long time aswell ..!!). if ur paranoid/anxious then its gonna suck being with percy cause of how he is always doing SMTH a little devious !!! that snarky lil grin he has when he pushes u into the water or just makes a wave hit u so u fall down– hope u dont have a fear of deep waters or just water in general cause if so u have chosen the wrong guy to love !!😣 /lh
   ⏤  him getting u seashells and making u seashell necklaces and bracelets :3 i think of percy as like, stupid in a silly way, but very creative and smart aswell, so he probably just makes u any jewelry with anything shiny he can find on the hot sand or cool water and it not just limited to the pretty seashells either :) makes u stuff out of just about anything he can find and, if ur hair is long enough, he will braid it or smth if u want !!! pls tell him whether or not u do like it or uncomfortable with ur hair/head/etc. touched😭 just a rlly crafty guy nonetheless tho !!! :)
   ⏤  him being aware of tons of stuff u like, even if u dont tell him. asks literally everyone at camp what type of jokes u like or figures it out himself and mentally writes it down just to see u laugh, figuring out ur favorite smells to get u candles/perfumes/colognes that smell just like it so u can be happy, figuring out what ur favorite flower is to pick that one exactly to give it to u, etc. !! pays close attention to what u say so do expect him to know LOTS !!
   ⏤  him flowerpicking constantly for u :) i said in the last little bit i wrote ("figuring out what ur favorite flower is to pick that one exactly to give it to u") that he finds ur favorite flower, so obv he makes u so many bouquets :3 him being the son of poseidon, those flowers will be the healthiest things EVER. it has so much water for free !!! just imagine having a whole shelf dedicated to all the flowers he has given u and other trinkets/things he made u (if ur not wearing them)
   ⏤  him SHAMELESSLY flirting with u in any instance ... usually in bad scenarios aswell ??? "are those new shoes ?? they look great on u !!!", "u looked hot killing that monster btw❤ (/silly)", "u look rlly good today ... are we about to kiss rn?" type stuff😭😭 freaking IDIOT !!!! /pos probably on purpose says the most outrageous things during the worst of times. fighting someone ?? flirt. yelling at someone ?? flirt. being yelled at ?? flirt. like can u pull urself together percy my goodness😞
   ⏤  him getting a custom made shirt that says "i love ___" or "if lost, pls return to ___", or wearing one of those "i ❤ my partner" cause he is so cheesy unironically😭 he is a absolute love-driven dork for u i SWEAR !!! just any shirt that is so dumb saying he loves u or smth like that and wears it out OPENLY ... ive told u once and i will tell u again: he loves embarrassing u !! whether on purpose or not, he is just a loser all together who loves u sm /pos
   ⏤  him taking u underwater and kissing u, not bothering to check if anyone is near or not. also, i feel like he would be the type to kiss u randomly whilst ur talking and just cheekily smile. anyways, back on the underwater kissing topic (i need to quit yapping omll😣) ... he is literally the son of poseidon and is as sly as a fox, do u expect him NOT to drag u underwater and just abruptly kiss u ?? never get near him when u two r swimming cause he will do it at any time. people around ?? kissing. not even in the correct clothes for swimming, risking getting his and ur clothes wet (he does not care if he gets his casual day clothes wet, personally😭) ?? kissing. he does not care i promise so be ready at any moment to be dunked underwater.
   ⏤  him taking u on dates 24/7 and it always being water themed or having water there. it can be a waterpark, a park with a fountain, a beach, a aquarium ... anything with water. also, make sure the places have blue foods/drinks ,,, papa smurf percy (/silly/j ik guys im hilarious❤) likes his blue !!! the way his dates r always planned out THOROUGHLY. if they do not have one of his needs (water, blue food, etc.) he will probably not go unless u rlly want to cause ur his weakness lowk🫂
   ⏤  extra: him getting u a pet fish ... tho its more for him. sobs hysterically when it dies and never gets another pet (thats a lie. probably a dog person and gets a golden retriever or smth ... and maybe another fish :3)
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mezzo-morte · 19 hours
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Being a Mulder/Scully shipper (aka everyone except Chris Carter) is such a profoundly confusing experience.
You get gaslit by the showrunner himself because for the first 6(?) seasons the characters are platonic. You get six years of them glancing at the other's lips, standing and walking so closely they're always touching, you get tender touches and warm embraces, you get forehead kisses, you get displays of jealousy and one of them even admitting to being territorial. You get this as soon as the damn pilot.
You get Mulder speaking into Scully's hair, you get Scully cradling and singing to him, you get Mulder making a scene threatening to fight anyone in sight when Scully is returned to the hospital, you get Scully wanting to have his child of all people.
You get that the connection is so profound they only trust the other and would (and have) gone to hell and back for their partner.
You have all of these feelings culminating in the intense way in which they gaze at each other, both directly and when the other isn't looking.
Then you have the actors, who were so horned up and fed up with the tension they went off script and made out like that, the same actors who did photoshoots in bed and kissed at award shows and interviews despite never being together, despite the characters never being canonically a couple. You get David, who when asked if he played it like he wanted Scully, he said he simply played it like he cares about her input and you get Gillian, who kissed David in the mouth before turning to kiss her husband when she won an emmy in 1997.
It's clearly love and although the absence of romance and sex don't make a connection any less legitimate or meaningful, I just don't buy it that there was never supposed to be an attraction from the beginning. That they remained friends for that long.
And still you're left questioning if it isn't all just projection because the two actors are so insanely attractive you can't help but want to see them in a sexual setting. If it's all just two good friends having so much chemistry that it makes it easy to come off as romantic. You're left to wonder if you have just been so blind in your own personal life that you have never so much as seen that kind of connection in marriages, let alone with coworkers. That perhaps you've just never had the fortune of having such a special connection with your platonic friend that you make out just for fun. You're made to believe that what you're seeing isn't desire but a deep understanding and care for the other's well being and happiness.
What is the truth. It's out there and at this point I have to believe it's all a ploy from the shadow government and Old Smokey himself to cover up what everyone already knows. The evidence is right in front of us and they keep trying to veer towards a specific answer and call bias if you don't agree.
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babybatss-blog · 1 day
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DOMESTICS
Sirius black x reader, 1100  words
summary: all you wanted to do was cook Sirius some chicken for dinner, but perhaps things don’t always go your way.
c/w: established relationship, alcohol consumption, swearing and crying, argument between Sirus and Reader. Practically just tame, basic relationship angst that turns into fluff :)
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The classic casual Friday night is always a big step in any intimate relationship. Stepping out of uncomfortable outfits and delicate table foods into comfy hoodies and junky snacks creates a whole new level of intimacy with a partner, and can be quite nerve wracking for at least the first few instances. 
But you and Sirius are way past that.
On the first date, you stayed the night at his for two whole days. You met his best friends on that second day, and he met yours just four days later. James said you were funny, and Lily said Sirus was smitten. He admired your comfortableness with him while you appreciated his lack of care towards your groggy state every morning, and a week in you both shared your deepest traumas with each other. On some random Wednesday your parents turned up unannounced in your apartment, which is when he met them both shirtless and slightly hungover (though he concealed the latter expertly).
So, two months later it is entirely expected to have Sirius lounging on your couch, watching some Netflix overproduced action show and as you cook dinner. Usually he prefers taking control of the kitchen because he “likes to spoil his girls”, but he did not impose when you insisted it was your turn to give him some love. The kitchen smells like a variety of spices and mouth-watering flavours, and despite the simple dish you are preparing the kitchen looks like a professional chef is making a world-famous meal. Plates, pots and pans are spread around, ingredients spilled on any and all surfaces and your state decreased to completely dishevelled, huffing and puffing at every slight inconvenience to come your way. “This needs to be perfect for him.” You think, anxiously managing every element with not a moment to spare. Unbeknownst to you Sirus has now snuck over, and softly places his chiselled chin on your shoulder as you peer over the cooking meat.
“Looks raw.” He states nonchalantly, arms creeping around your waist. “I know. It’s not done yet.” You explain bluntly, words leaving your mouth slightly more harsh than you intended. But you don’t take them back, as your focus is entirely taken up by the meal in front of you.
Wait, I thought it was done? What’s it meant to look like if it is done? What does it taste like? What more does it need?
He soon releases you, walking away to the bathroom as he calls out. “Sorry for not wanting to be poisoned I guess!” You huff, opting to not fight back in fear of putting too much energy into something that doesn’t really matter in the scheme of things. You and Sirius are both painfully stubborn when you want to be, and are often laughed at by your friends for getting in ridiculous arguments. Once, you needed to go on a walk and clear your head after the two of you debated which Barbie movie is the best.
As he returns from the bathroom he subtly side eyes the chicken, seeing you have now placed it on a plate ready for serving. Against his better judgment, he calls out, in a half cough half word amalgamation which complains “still raw”. Would it be smart for you to reply? No, of course not! But do you do it anyway? Obviously!
“WELL WHY DON’T YOU COOK THEN MR PERFECT?!” You snap, eyes erratic and wide as you face him. He scoffs, hands placed on the kitchen counter opposite you.
“I’d be happy to, but you didn’t fucking let me!”
”Didn’t let you? I’m not your mother, I’m sorry I wanted to do something nice for you!”
“Well it isn’t nice if I’m too sick to go to work tomorrow!”
“Relax hard ass, you start work at three!” The argument quickly escalates past the point of reasonable, as Sirius’ arms flail widely about and the vegetables are left to burn in the oven.
In a closing statement you call Sirius a “spoilt brat” and he storms off, slamming the bedroom door behind him so he can no longer hear you if you try to apologise. Tears well in your eyes as you look around, realising what just happened truly as your brain finally processes. How can your worst argument be about some stupid chicken? You rush to repair the damage of your distractions to the meal, pulling the vegetables out of the oven as your salty tears fall within. You can barely see through your exaggerated sobs, mad at yourself for all manner of things.
Why did you let his simple comments go to your head? What if he’s right, and the meals a disaster? Will he despise you now for going so off the handle? Is this the last night of your fleeting romance?
You quietly serve up the food as these thoughts run through your head, wiping away gushing tears and snot as you go. Once it’s done, you tentatively go over to the closed door of the bedroom and knock a few times. You hear some shuffles, and the door is opened to reveal an unimpressed Sirus. “Sorry…” You mumble, eyes glued to the wooden floor between you. He pushes past you in silence, grabbing his plate and sitting down on the plush couch. As much as you would like to beg for forgiveness and list all the reasons you should stay together, you don’t deem that important when he pats the space next to him to sit down, handing you a sympathetic yet weak smile. “I know you didn’t mean it.” He finally gets out, eyes drilling into your still shy figure. “I just was trying to help.” “I know. But I didn’t want you to have to worry. I wanted to spoil you; you know?” His hand falls onto your thigh, the other placing the chicken in his hungry mouth. You join him in eating the meal, and reluctantly admit what you wished wasn’t true.
“It’s not fully cooked.” You pout, tears still glossing your eyes. He chuckles, placing his plate down and enveloping you in a hug. “That’s fine gorgeous. UberEats it is.” You pull back and quickly peck his lips, a smile forming on both your faces as you respond.
“Only if it’s Mexican.”
“Deal.”
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thisgirlnamedblusy · 2 days
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Hiyah! could I request Donna with a reader who has a really ratty old stuffed animal that they’re super attached to that Donna is a little (very) jealous of? maybe during a crisis Donna tears it apart and reader is inconsolable for days and won’t even speak to her, until one day Donna very carefully repairs that stuffed animal for reader again. love some angst with a happy ending!
Yesss!!!! Thank you for your request!!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!!! :)))))))
A childhood friend
Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader
Warnings: Angst, fluff, Donna being Donna, Donna's POV
Word count: 7,770
Summary: How can I be jealous of a teddy bear...?
N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!! :))
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I would never have imagined that I was waiting for someone, that in the darkness of my bedroom, loneliness wasn’t my only company.
After so many years of loneliness, of so much crying, horror… Finally I wasn’t alone and I would never be alone again.
My life is of no interest to anyone, it never was. Maybe I could have the feeling that I really left the young and crazy Donna Beneviento to become someone important, so “lady” preceded my name and I would feel special.
No, that didn’t work. I will always thank the Black Gods, Mother Miranda, for having been chosen for a cause that I am still not sure of. I became a Lord, someone to be feared. Yes, that sounded much better than: the crazy and sick doll woman.
But thinking that something in my life would change after my transformation was only part of an illusion, a desire of my subconscious to abandon my loneliness.
Yes, I had power. I could do things I would never have imagined. Causing fear and suffering to those people who one day messed with me was a fun pastime, but it didn't last too long.
Power brings fear, and fear brings loneliness.
It's not that I wanted to suddenly find myself surrounded by people who begged to serve me, as my sister did. No, that false desire to share my life with someone was the only bit of sanity left in my sick mind.
No, I didn't need anyone. I had everything without having anything.
Thanks to Mother Miranda's gift I was able to give life to my partner Angie, my only friend, the only one who, even without existing, was by my side all those years. A miracle from the Black Gods, a gift I can never thank enough for.
But after years and years of thinking that perhaps loneliness would always be my condemnation, that, simply because I was born into my family, having spent my childhood, my life in that sinister village, I would no longer have the right to be a normal person.
You appeared as a coincidence, as something that shouldn’t be there and at the same time had to exist; a beautiful, perfect girl, daughter of the village weaver.
Were you really a coincidence? It was becoming more and more difficult for me to see it that way.
You had something I needed. You had fabrics for my dolls. At first it was unexpected. The Duke simply didn’t have what I was looking for. When I saw you… When I saw you I knew that I would never buy fabrics from that greedy merchant again.
I preferred to see you, to see your innocent smile, the lack of trembling in your body when I was near. You were different, you didn’t fear me, or you didn’t show it.
That was much more than I had in my entire life, someone who smiled at me, who didn't run away from me, who didn't beg for mercy. It was sudden, my heart started to move strangely, to pound when I got close to you. Yes, I never had the chance to experience that thing called love, so it took me a while to be sure that it was what I felt for you.
Longings, sighs, smiles… All those changes, those involuntary actions of my body were like a disease, one that I did like to have, for which there was only one cure: You.
After a while trying to put my feelings back together, assuming that I really loved you, that I visited you only to contemplate your smile, I dared to tell you what I felt.
I wanted you to guide me. I wanted you to tell me what those sighs meant, those smiles that you were unable to see through my black veil. I explained everything to you, with fear, fearing that you would think I was just stupid, a poor crazy woman who didn't even dare to talk to people.
Your smile grew bigger and bigger and then… Then you confirmed it for me. Those butterflies in my stomach, my mind ravaged by your beauty, the sighs, the desire to see you… It was love.
I wasn't surprised by your timid explanation but... When I lowered my head, ready to run away, so as not to hear your rejection, so as not to hear that I was just a monster, then you did it. Without fearing the consequences of your audacity you lifted my black veil. You didn't uncover my face, just a little bit of it, just enough for your lips to rest on mine.
A kiss, the first of my life but not the last, a kiss from those tender, brave lips that didn't flinch, that didn't hesitate... The best kiss.
You also felt something for me. Your body was sick in the same way, it was sick of love...
Explaining how little by little the kisses became routine, how my caresses became more and more emboldened by your skin would be too boring. Everything we lived always had an end, a bitter one, the moment when you had to go back home.
Desperate, being selfish and possessive, one of those nights I begged you not to leave ever again, to stay with me. You, always surprising me, said yes.
And that, that was the first night in which our bodies could embrace each other eternally, in which the warmth of your body remained in mine.
“Okay, I'm done,” you said when your usual clothes disappeared to give way to a nightgown, the clothes that would accompany you every night. “Donna?”
“Oh, yes,” I said, shaking my head, leaving that journey through my memories, that explanation I needed to know that you were real, that you did exist. “Come,” I said, patting the mattress affectionately.
“Wait, wait, something is missing,” you said suddenly, searching for something among your suitcases. “That's it...”
I blinked several times when I saw you with something in your arms, it looked like a teddy bear, or at least, it once was.
“What's that?” I asked pointing at that ratty animal as you got into bed next to me.
“It's Percy,” you said with an innocent smile, showing me the teddy bear and moving one of its paws comically. “Hello, hello”
“Percy?” I asked again with a frown, taking the bear in my hands.
The condition of that plush was terrible. It was missing an eye and the seams seemed to want to tear. The passage of time was evident in the old bear, it reminded me of Angie.
“Mm,” you murmured as I continued to look at that worn teddy bear. “I've had it since I was very young, it's important to me, you know, like a friend.”
“A friend…” I whispered with an inevitably unpleasant grimace.
 I hate broken toys.
“Yes, I've been sleeping with him for as long as I can remember, he's always been with me, you know...” you commented, sighing and looking at the gestures I made on the animal, trying to recompose one of his arms.
“You haven't taken good care of it,” I murmured, looking at you out of the corner of my eye. “It's destroyed.”
You simply shrugged your shoulders.
“Yes, well... I've always taken him with me on my adventures,” you said with a nostalgic tone. “Time passes for everything, but for me he's still the same.”
“The same? (Y/N), it's missing an eye,” I said with a mocking smile.
I wasn't used to joking, I didn't even know how to do that, I always failed and that time, you didn't even bother to fake a smile, you just crossed your arms.
“You are missing an eye too and I love you,” you said with a dangerous whisper, one that indicated to me that you weren't joking.
I looked at you quickly, offended by your comment. You weren't careful, (Y/N), you didn't know how dangerous it was to joke about my horrible appearance.
Well, maybe you did, because your face immediately changed and you bit your lip, placing a hand on my shoulder.
“Um, Donna, don't take it the wrong way... I, I meant it as a joke,” you stammered, with a reassuring tone.
I just nodded, taking one last look at that horrible bear and leaving it on the nightstand.
“Oh, no, no, wait,” you said climbing up my body and reaching out to grab the teddy bear. “Be careful, Donna.”
“Careful? Perché? I haven't done anything,” I said confused while you got off my body again, with that animal in your arms.
“Don't leave Percy anywhere, he’s fragile and... Well, besides, I already told you that I always slept with him so...” you said, placing the bow tie on that teddy bear, making me frown even more.
“Is the bear going to sleep here? In the bed?” I asked in a dark tone.
I didn't know why I acted that way, but I did, I had the need to do it, as if I myself considered that the bear was exceeding the limits of confidence.
“Yes... It's just that... Well, it may seem silly to you but... I continue, I continue sleeping with him,” you confessed a bit embarrassed, placing the bear delicately under the sheets, in a position that seemed horrible to me, between the two of us. “That way he could protect me.”
Ignoring the gesture of putting that plush to sleep with us, I laughed pleasantly, shaking my head and taking your hand.
“Come on, tesoro… You don't need it anymore, I'll protect you,” I said, moving the bear away from the bed.
You gasped, snatching it from my hands with a nervous, almost scared gesture.
“Um, I'm, I'm sorry Donna but I need it,” you said, looking away. “Well, unless… It's a problem for you… Be more careful, please…”
I blinked several times, trying to listen to your words over and over again and to interpret your serious expression as you returned the animal to that privileged place.
A part of me asked for tranquility, calm. The bear wasn’t something strange. I slept with my dolls, with Angie. I should know how important it could be for a person.
 The other part of my head, the one corrupted by hate, jealousy and madness, did nothing but scream at me to get that pathetic bear away from the place my body should occupy.
“Um, it's not a problem,” I said in a small voice, with an expression that surely didn’t show the intention of those words.
Does she prefer to sleep with that bear? How stupid you are, Donna…
“Taci!” I said out loud, startling you with the abruptness of my words.
Again I wasn’t careful. I let the voices in my head sound real, cloud my senses. Luckily, it was only for a moment, until your soft and reassuring hand rested on my cheek again.
“Honey, I didn't say anything,” you said with a nervous smile, with that tone you used when the shadows stalked me.
I was stupid to think that way, to believe that the pathetic bear could replace me. I wish I weren't condemned to madness, to imagine that, around every corner, there was a threat that sought to take you away from me.
“I'm sorry,” I said, rubbing my eye and kissing the back of your hand.
“Relax, I know the move has been stressful for you but...” you said, taking your hand away and lying down on the bed, guiding me to do the same. “I'm here with you now, my love...”
Your whispers, your words of love always served to soften my sharp soul. The day you were gone... I wouldn't want to continue living. Not even eternal life would be a gift. It would be a constant condemnation, a time in which your loss would never disappear from my wounded heart.
“Certo,” I whispered, forcing a smile, reaching out my hand to remind the softness of your skin, to remind myself that I wasn't living in a dream.
You laughed softly, like every time my imperfect hands touched your perfection. Not even the fact that my hand touched that teddy bear stopped me from enjoying your hand, getting a little closer to kiss your lips slowly.
“Careful, be careful, darling,” you said amused, harassed by the tickling my lips did on your skin. “Percy.”
I moved away as my smile faded, letting your hands leave me to take the plush out from under my body and position it again, ready to sleep.
“I'm sorry,” I whispered with a fake voice, glancing sideways at that one-eyed bear, one that seemed to enjoy its victory. At least that's what my mind interpreted.
It was our first night together, and the joy in my heart hid those irrational jealousies for a moment. Having your body sleeping next to mine, your deep, calm breathing reaching my ears like a lullaby... That was unbeatable, even with that disgusting Percy separating us.
I could barely sleep that night.
I couldn't sleep because I had you by my side, because my mind traveled from joy to sadness, then to fear, the fear as always irrational and almost psychotic. I thought when I dared to close my eye, I would lose you forever.
That didn't happen. I dared to sleep, to test my worries, and I won. Well, almost...
When the morning cold shook my body, forcing it to wake up, the first thing I did was to reach out my hand to you. You weren't there. The warmth of your body had abandoned me.
I quickly turned on the light and confirmed my fears. You weren't there, (Y/N), you were gone. My breathing became dangerously labored and my eye traveled all over the room until I lowered my head.
Of course, Percy was still there, looking at me with its one eye, mocking me. It wasn't what I expected to see when I woke up but at least... At least I knew that you weren't gone, you would never go without that filthy teddy bear.
Nervous because of that cold look, because of that bear's sinister shadow, I turned its head, its body, preventing it from continuing to laugh at me, even though it really wasn't.
“Good morning!” A high-pitched squeal made me stir.
Small, familiar footsteps walked towards the bed, jumping on top of it; my friend, my companion, my Angie.
“Don't shout, Angie...” I murmured, shaking my head. “Where's (Y/N)?” I asked curiously.
The doll laughed amused, climbing onto my lap.
“I think she's taking a shower,” she commented thoughtfully. “Did you sleep well?”
“No,” I said in a cold voice, briefly looking at the bear.
“Of course, of course, your conscience did its work,” Angie said with a haughty voice that made me frown.
“My conscience?” I asked, running a hand through my hair, constantly looking at the door, wanting for you to appear.
“Yes, silly Donna…” the doll said, putting a wooden finger on my nose. “I'm sure you felt guilty for having kicked me out of the room.”
“Oh, Angie…” I sighed, understanding the reason for that attitude. “We've already talked about it, you can't sleep with us. You disturb us.”
“Silly!” my doll shrieked. “That's unfair.”
“Angie, taci,” I said with a darker tone. “You have to accept that (Y/N) now lives with us, so do me a favor and behave, will you?”
“I can't behave with the silly girl who forced me to sleep in the office,” Angie protested, crossing her arms and letting herself fall on the mattress. “It's very cold there, Donna.”
“Stop complaining, you can't feel the cold,” I commented, shaking my head, refocusing my gaze on that bear and sighing.
The doll growled, mockingly imitating my posture until she noticed where my eye was pointing, until she noticed that strange presence on the bed
-Ohhh - she murmured curiously, cautiously approaching that teddy bear. -What is this filthy bear?
“It's Percy,” I said in a small voice, frowning and looking away. “It's (Y/N)’s.”
“Percy? Hello, hello Percy…” the doll said, shaking the bear's paw as if she was really greeting it.
I looked at her and couldn't help but smile at that scene. Angie was a demon, but sometimes she managed to look adorable. I don't know what would have become of me without her.
“Hey, you dirty bear! I'm talking to you!” the puppet said abruptly, indignant at not getting an answer.
I laughed amused, picking up the puppet in my arms and sitting her on my lap, fixing her messy hair affectionately.
“Ti voglio bene, Angie,” I whispered with my soul a bit calmer.
“Oh, cheesy Donna,” she protested, removing my hands from her face. “Hey, that bear is rude, he didn't greet me.”
I laughed again, leaving the doll alone.
“He doesn't talk, Angie, he's not like you,” I explained while the puppet examined the bear again with curiosity, shaking it comically.
“Che palle,” she complained. “Wait, wait, wait,” she said, as if she had just realized something. “I can't believe it Donna…”
“Mm?” I muttered, watching the door again in case you appeared.
“So, I, the wonderful Angie, the supreme Angie can't sleep here with you and that pile of dirt that looks like a bear can, right?” she protested, with an indignant pose, not leaving the poor bear alone.
I rolled my eye and sighed, relaxing my face again, turning it slightly dark.
“(Y/N) needs to sleep with it,” I explained looking down, remembering the conversation from the day before, those irrational thoughts that talked about stupid jealousy. “It's like... A talisman for her, or something like that.”
“How old is she, 5?” the doll mocked, laughing evilly. “Isn't she old enough for teddy bears?”
I sighed again, shaking my head.
“I can't judge her, Angie, until she came I slept with you,” I said in a low voice, taking the opportunity to remind myself that there was no problem with Percy.
“It's not the same, I can talk, and move, and be the best friend ever,” Angie said proudly, pointing at herself and sitting next to the stuffed animal. “Oh, look, look, he's missing an eye, like you...”
“Should I find that funny?” I said offended, crossing my arms. “It's (Y/N)'s teddy bear and she sleeps with it, that's all, there's no problem with it.”
“Are you talking to me or to yourself?” Angie asked, comically moving the bear's weak limbs.
I looked at her with a furious sigh, not having an answer for that accusation.
“I…” I stammered confused, but before I could try to defend myself, the footsteps on the wood indicated to me that, finally, you had returned. “Oh, (Y/N)…” I sighed with a smile as you leaned in to kiss me.
“Have you missed me, darling?” you asked laughing, surely due to my usual shower of kisses, a desperate one that tried hard to mark your skin. “Donna…” you said, pushing me away amused, kissing me for the last time and sitting next to me.
“I hope you slept well,” I said, forgetting for a moment about my dark thoughts, dazzled by your smile. “Have you been comfortable?”
“Oh yes, of course,” you said, nodding sincerely. “Besides, I already knew this bed…” you whispered in my ear, making the heat of my body move to my cheeks.
“Ugh!” Angie complained, interrupting unpleasantly. “Oh, my love, darling, give me a kiss, mooch, mooch, mooch…” the doll mocked, pretending to kiss Percy, something that made your smile disappear immediately.
“Hey! Don't touch him!” you screamed, moving nervously to snatch Angie's toy. “Don't touch him!”
“Ahhh!” Angie shrieked, fleeing from the unhinged fury of your words, hiding behind of me.
“(Y/N),” I said with a surprised look. I'd never heard you scream like that, I'd never seen you get that nervous. “Cal-calmati, amore mio…”
“It's not a toy, Angie, it's not for you to play with,” you said nervously, checking if my doll had caused havoc on that damn teddy bear.
“How dare you to yell at me?” Angie asked, peeking comically, pointing at you with her finger. “Say something, Donna, defend me.”
I should have, Angie was right.
“Behave, Angie, please…” I whispered, not sure that was what I meant. You looked at me gratefully, frowning, still holding Percy.
“Donna, you traitor …” the doll hissed moving away from me and getting off the bed. “I will get my revenge! You will pay dearly for your insolence! You and that filthy bear!” she shrieked before leaving the room, saying words that weren’t especially nice.
You shuddered, hugging Percy tightly, an image that my mind distorted horribly, making it not to look cute, but dangerous.
“Donna… She threatened me,” you said in a soft voice, getting a little closer to me with a scared look. “Angie won't hurt me, right?”
“Of course she won’t, tesoro,” I said, trying to reassure you with a sweet hug, with a soft kiss on your cheek. “Don't pay attention to her...”
“And Percy?” you asked nervously, moving away from my kisses, from my comfort, and hugging that stupid animal tighter.
I sighed discreetly, shaking my head and drawing your body towards mine again.
“No, tesoro, she won’t hurt Percy either,” I said reluctantly, trying not to make my passivity so obvious.
Luckily you were too preoccupied with the bear to notice the apathy of my words.
That's how our coexistence began, in a strange but satisfactory way. After all, you didn't leave, you stayed with me.
I tried to forget about that bear, I tried to pretend that it didn't accompany us every night, that you hugged it instead of my body. Meditating in the solitude of my workshop, I came to the conclusion that there was no danger in you finding refuge in a childhood companion.
Yes, I stopped thinking about it, or at least I tried. You were so perfect… Seeing you every day, being able to kiss you whenever I wanted, being able to tell you at any time that I loved you, that you were my whole life, was a better gift than the second chance Miranda gave me.
Always so cheerful, so happy, sitting next to me while we read, on my lap whenever I worked on my dolls… I spent all my time with you, all the time I could. The kisses, the caresses, the hugs… Those divine gifts were my new routine. I couldn’t say I got used to it, because I could never do that.
Getting used to it would be trivializing your presence. It would be provoking your kisses to stop causing me that incredible emotion, to stop worsening of my favorite disease, my love for you.
But, although everything was perfect, although the days passed with my body in yours, with my lips adoring yours, there came a time when I began to feel a strange discomfort.
It was like a sensation that made our loneliness, our intimacy disappear. It was like when Angie was around, like when kisses couldn't be diverted into passion. The feeling of being watched got worse as the days went by and, even though I tried to ignore it, I really tried, I couldn't do it.
That bear, that damn bear was always with us. It didn't matter what we were doing. Eating, sleeping, making love, walking... That damn Percy always accompanied us, silently, with that disgusting eye laughing at me.
Living with you was wonderful, but... Yes, I hated that bear.
Your arms hugged it every night, that piece of cotton and fabric had the privilege of feeling your warm body, separating it from mine. It could be an exaggeration, a jealousy that made no sense at all, but… If I couldn't hug you at night, why Percy could? Was he more important than me?
Maybe I was indeed exaggerating. Maybe my mental problems made me see that filthy bear as an enemy and not as one of my lifeless dolls.
Openly admitting that I was jealous of Percy wouldn���t be good for us, I knew it and that's why I decided to pretend that I didn't care about the affection you gave him, that I didn't care about the kisses you gave to that battered fabric, those caresses so different from the ones you gave me.
But time only proved me right, it only fed my darkness. My lap was no longer a place for you, yours was now the bear's favorite place.
It seemed to me that you were distancing yourself, that you gave him much more than you gave me. It could simply be that I didn't pay much attention to you when I made my dolls, I even came to think that it was some kind of revenge for something I didn't know I had done.
I tried, I really tried, but I couldn't take it anymore, not that night.
The kisses were hot, wet. The panting began to fill the bedroom with lust. My heart was beating fast, my hands were traveling over your body. I was in paradise.
“Donna,” you moaned amused by my caresses on your neck, by the way my hands climbed up your legs, ready to touch you, to make you mine, to love you madly…
I laughed, biting your earlobe, moving your body so it rested below mine while my lips began to go down your neck. My mistake was not letting myself get carried away by the voices in my head, by those voices that I began to ignore.
No, the problem was much simpler, I opened my eye.
On top of your bedside table was that filthy bear, the damn Percy. He was always there, always next to you, almost closer to you than me. Maybe that's why I wanted to make love to you desperately that night.
I stopped, catching my breath, staring into that lifeless eye, feeling intimidated, watched, as if that Percy hated me, as if he was capable of feeling the same jealousy as me.
“(Y/N)…” I sighed, sitting up a bit, relaxing the movement of my caresses.
“Donna, why are you stopping? Are you okay?” you asked curiously, running a hand through my hair. I nodded with a frown, looking away from that bear. “Come here, my love…”
Your tender words brought back the desire of my lips kiss yours, but it only lasted a moment, until my stupid eye opened again.
“Mm, no, (Y/N),” I said, moving away again, shaking my head.
You looked at me curiously, with a strange look.
“What's wrong?” you asked with a soft, understanding voice.
You were so perfect…
“It's just that… I, I can't,” I stammered, looking back at that disgusting bear. “It makes me, it makes me nervous,” I said in a low voice, pointing at the teddy bear with my head.
“You mean Percy? Oh, Donna, it's just a teddy bear,” you said amused, pulling my face back to your lips. I pulled away roughly, determined that you would listen to me.
“Can you take it away from there?” I asked, with a cold look. “I can't concentrate.”
“Don't pay attention to him, I promise he won't say anything,” you whispered seductively, silencing my protests with another one of your tender kisses. Not even the softness of your lips could comfort me.
“No, t-take it away from there, tesoro, please,” I asked more nervously, with a frown.
It was a kind request, (Y/N). I don't know why you had to refuse.
“Don't be silly, Donna, just don't look at him,” you said, with a slightly more relaxed look, trying to divert my face from your table. “Don't be childish...”
“Childish?” I asked offended, mouth agape. “Come on, (Y/N), don't be stubborn. Put it down for a moment...”
I reached out my hand to fulfill my wish, but yours stopped me.
“Stop talking nonsense and come here, forget about Percy,” you said with an impatient voice.
Nothing I say is nonsense, (Y/N)
I tried to let myself go again, but I was too nervous.
“Cazzo...” I growled, watched by that lifeless eye, oppressed by the pressure of that smiling expression that would surely laugh victoriously for having won. “Cazzo!” I shrieked, moving to hit the stuffed animal, to throw it to the floor in an unpleasant way.
“What are you doing? Have you gone crazy?” you asked startled, pushing me to get off your body, desperately throwing yourself to the floor to pick up your teddy bear. “Oh, nothing happened to it, right?”
“I can't believe it, (Y/N),” I hissed nervously, shaking my head. “Leave that stupid bear on the floor and come here.”
“It's not stupid,” you said with a look that pierced my chest. “I already told you that it's going to get dirty on the floor.”
“But... You, you...” I murmured, unable to say a word, controlling my increasingly sharp nerves. “Porca puttana...” I hissed, getting up from the bed.
“Where are you going, darling?” you asked, confused by my abrupt attitude. “My love, uh… Why did you do that? You know how important it is to me…”
“You know what, (Y/N)?” I said, turning quickly before walking out the door. Your eyes looked at me scared, terrified. I didn't know what to say, I didn't know what I wanted to say, but I knew it wasn't anything good. “I, I'm going to the workshop.”
My cowardice was useful for once. I wanted to tell you so many things… I wanted to talk to you about my absurd jealousy, about my fear about that scruffy stuffed animal taking my place but… I couldn't do it, you would hate me for it and that only meant my fears made sense, that the bear was much more important than me.
I would have to calm down, my hands were shaking. That time I managed to avoid the crisis, but I didn't know how much longer I could bear it.
The next day started like any other, a romantic breakfast, your body on my lap again while I worked… It seemed like that tense moment had caused you to realize what my concern was.
But the reality was very different. That bear was still with us all the time, even closer to you, as if you wanted to protect it from another one of my slaps. You hugged it, held it close to your body. It was even closer than me.
“You know? I've been thinking…” you murmured while we ate. My gaze shifted from Percy, accompanying us, as always, and went to your beautiful eyes.
I nodded with a slightly forced smile, one that stayed alive in the light of your smile.
“Tell me what you've been thinking, tesoro…” I sighed romantically, something that made you smile in the same way
“Mm, I thought we could go for a walk in the woods, it's a really nice day,” you said with that soft tone, with that shy smile.
“Yes, a walk!” Angie exclaimed, startling us both.
“Um, no, just me and Donna,” you corrected in a slightly abrupt but amused manner.
“I want to go too, I want to go too!” the doll protested, tugging hard at my black dress, making me almost choke on my wine.
“Angie, cazzo, lasciami…” I protested, pulling the garment away from her wooden claws. “No, you're not coming.”
“Oh, Donna said a bad word,” Angie mocked, in an exaggerated manner. I shook my head, rolling my eye and smiling at you amusedly.
That smile faded when I saw you look at the bear and shrug. It made me so nervous when you looked at it…
“What did you say? A bad word?” you asked curiously.
“Oh, well, Angie's right, you better not learn those ugly words, sweetheart…” I said, dismissing my outburst with a wave of my hand.
“Donna, silly, mean Donna, I want to go for a walk, I want to go!” the doll shouted again, causing me to sigh tiredly.
“I said no,” I said firmly with a stern tone. “You stay here watching Percy, mm?”
“What?” you asked, startled by my innocent words. “Oh, no, no, Percy is coming with me.”
“That's it, choose the filthy bear over me,” Angie whispered, with her hands on her hips. “Donna, tell her something!”
“Angie… Can we eat in peace?” you asked again, clasping your hands together in a pleading manner.
My gaze darkened again and the hand holding my wine glass began to tremble. I couldn't believe it, I just couldn't believe it.
What was supposed to be a liberating step, without stuffed animals or dolls, was nothing but a continuation of that horrible routine in which Percy was always present.
My hand squeezed the glass so hard that it broke, causing you to moan in surprise.
“Uh, wow, you're strong, huh, honey?” you joked, removing the two glass parts from my hands. “Wait, I'm going to throw this so you don't cut yourself. Percy, keep an eye on her.”
The anger could no longer stay inside me.
“Don't go, (Y/N),” I said, getting up from the table and getting in your way.
“Oh, do you want something from the kitchen?” you asked innocently, emptying the broken glass’ wine into yours.
“No,” I said abruptly, with my teeth clenched, with my fist wanting to break more glasses. “The bear is not coming with us.”
“What? Oh, um, why not?” you stammered, putting the crystals in a basket and looking at me confused. “Of course it’s coming.”
“Of course it’s not. The bear is staying,” I hissed, breathing more and more heavily.
“No, the bear is coming with us,” you said with a fake, nervous smile, as if I was saying something crazy. I wasn't, I was right. “What's wrong with you?”
Your words only increased my nerves. I couldn't stand it anymore. The madness was starting to make me lose control.
“What's wrong with me, huh?!” I screamed furiously, unhinged, letting out that contained rage, that stupid and absurd jealousy. “Qual è il tuo problema!?”
“D-Donna, you know I don't understand Italian,” you whispered cautiously, backing away slowly. “What's wrong with you? You're, you're very nervous…”
“How long are you going to keep laughing at me?” I asked in a lower tone, but just as dangerous. “Tell me, have you decided to make fun of me until I can't take it anymore?”
“What are you talking about? Oh, honey, you're losing your mind again… I'll go get your medicine,” you said nervously, passing by me. A bad idea, since my hand grabbed your arm tightly, pushing you back with a furious gasp.
“Yes, I'm losing my mind… Because of you!” I shrieked, clenching my fists tightly and approaching your side of the table, where that stupid Percy was resting. “I'm fed up, (Y/N)! I’m Fed up!”
“Donna, you're scaring me…” you stammered, grabbing the bear to hug it, to take refuge in it, instead of me. That was the last straw.
“Oh…” I growled furiously, snatching it away from you roughly.
“Hey! Give it back to me!” you shrieked nervously while trying to reach it, something impossible, since I was holding it above my head and you… You weren't exactly the tallest girl in the village… “Donna!”
“No! What's wrong, (Y/N)? If you love this stupid bear that much, what are you doing with me?”
“What?” you asked confused, jumping uselessly to reach your partner. “Donna, stop…. Donna!”
“Basta!” I screamed with more anger, pushing you roughly. “I'm sick of this filthy bear! Sick of you loving him more than me!”
“What the fuck are you saying?” you asked, furious, giving up and shaking your head. “Have you gone completely crazy? I knew you were jealous, Donna, really, I knew you were possessive but to be jealous of my teddy bear… It's too much, even for someone like you.”
“If you don't want me to be jealous, stop putting this stinky thing in my bed, stop hugging him at night!” I shouted, shaking Percy in my hand, noticing how the weak stitching on its arm slowly unraveled.
“I don't think you're the best person to accuse me of that. What about Angie?” you asked, pointing at the puppet, who pointed at herself and shook her head.
“Hey, don't involve me!” the doll protested.
“She's alive, (Y/N), this fucking bear is not, he will never be, he will never love you like I do!”
“You're going crazy. You must relax, give Percy back to me and go with your stupid dolls,” you said in a calm tone, getting a little closer to me. “When you get over that stupid craziness, we can talk calmly.”
I narrowed my eye, still breathing furiously as you extended your hand towards mine.
“Come on, Donna, be a good girl and give it back to me,” you said, with a demanding tone that ended up driving me crazy.
I growled, lowering the stuffed animal to your height but immediately removing it from your grip.
“Do you want me to give it back to you?” I asked with a dark look that was surely terrifying.
You nodded, you didn't seem moved.
“Come on, Donna, give it to me,” you said with an impatient gesture.
“Cazzo!” I screamed, grabbing the bear with both hands and doing the worst thing I could do, ripping it, pulling at those weak seams to tear it in half, to tear apart your most precious possession and throw it to the floor with a grunt. “Here is il tuo orsacchiotto di merda!”
“Donna!” you screamed, exchanging pride for the deepest sadness. “No, no, no!”
Screaming, you bent down to pick up the remains of the animal, bursting into tears that tore my soul apart completely. My madness didn't allow me to pity you, not even for a second. I thought I had triumphed.
“Why…?” you sobbed, trying to put the bear back together in a pathetic way. The cotton was sticking out of the tear and one of the arms didn't fit anymore. “Percy…”
I just looked at you, my gaze still dark.
“Donna,” you sobbed, hugging the parts of the teddy bear. “You are a monster,” you whispered, staring me straight in the eye, tears running down your cheeks.
You didn’t say anything else, not even that terrible insult made me stir until you ran out up the stairs and locked yourself in the guest room among horrible cries.
“Oh, Donna, Donna…” Angie sighed, coming closer when she saw the white on my knuckles disappear and I began to realize.
“Oh… What, what have I done?” I said, as if I had just woken up from a nightmare, running a trembling hand over my forehead, looking at a piece of cotton on the floor. “No…”
“Donna, my friend…” Angie sighed, hands on hips. “…You screwed it up.”
Angie was right.
My absurd jealousy, my sick mind forced me to break Percy, to take away your childhood friend. I hated myself, I screamed, I yelled, but none of that could ease my conscience nor heal my mistake.
You stopped talking to me, almost looking at me. You didn't even sleep with me. I had lost you.
But it wasn't a quick loss, you didn't abandon me completely. You were still in my house, you hadn't left me. What was initially a relief became the worst of my tortures. I could see you, but not have you. I could hear you, but not talk to you, I could look at your lips, but I couldn't kiss them.
I tried, I tried by all means to apologize, to beg you to forgive me, but it wasn't enough, it never would be.
“(Y/N),” I said when, as always, you sat down to eat with me. Your gaze was cold, annoyed, it seemed like you really hated me. My voice was soft, sad, apologizing with every word I said. It was of no use.
You didn't look at me or greet me. You just poured yourself a glass of water.
“L-look, I, I made lasagna… It, it's your favorite dish,” I said shyly, serving her a perfect piece that she reluctantly accepted.
“Do you expect me to thank you?” you asked, ignoring my gaze again. At least it was the first time in days that I heard you speak.
“(Y/N), per favore… Listen to me…” I said nervously, with a trembling voice and a tear in my eye.
“I don't want to listen to you,” you said in a gruff voice, dragging the chair. “If you don't leave, I'll go to my room.”
“Forgive me, I beg you, I'm, I'm suffering, tesoro, you don't know how much I am…” I said in a more pathetic tone, reaching out my hand to touch yours. You stood up with a cold look, without a smile, without the sparkle in your eyes.
“What do you know about suffering? You have no fucking idea about people's feelings, Donna. I'm going to my room, I'm not hungry,” you growled, getting up from the chair and walking back to the stairs.
“(Y/N)…” I sobbed when I lost sight of you, resting my forehead on my hand, letting the tear I was holding fall onto the table.
As if saying your name summoned you, you approached again, hurriedly, picking up your plate of food with an embarrassed look, making a proud gesture as you took that lasagna to your room.
A strange smile formed on my face as I shook my head. At least you were still enjoying my food.
“Is everything okay?” Angie asked, climbing onto my lap.
“No, it's not okay at all,” I said hoarsely, pouring myself some wine. “I'm losing her, Angie…”
“Well, you've broken her childhood teddy bear and hurt her feelings, you can't be surprised by her reaction,” the doll said. She was right.
“I don't know what I can do… I'm desperate,” I murmured, playing with my food. “I'll lose her forever, because of me.”
“You gain nothing by regretting it, silly Donna, do something,”  Angie said, guiding my face so I looked at her.
“What? I've apologized in every possible way, I've begged her and… It, it didn't help,” I explained while the doll listened to me, pretending boredom.
“If you think that by saying sorry you're going to fix things up, you're more stupid than you look, Donna,” she said, making me growl furiously, pushing her off my lap.
“Angie…” I hissed dangerously while a word stuck in my mind: fix. “Oh, wait… I think I got it…”
“What, Donna? What are you thinking?”
“Come, I need your help.”
The solution came to my head like a fresh breeze. Yes, it was true that saying sorry was absurd, that it wouldn't fix anything but… That only happened when there was nothing to fix. Fixing my mistakes wasn't something abstract, metaphorical. I could fix everything, really fix it. If I wanted to get you back, I should fix Percy.
With Angie's unmatched help, and with you not seeming upset with my doll, I managed to distract you so I could go up to your new room and get back what was left of Percy.
I spent two days in the workshop, without eating, without sleeping, searching for every piece of fabric, recomposing every part of that damn bear. If it had to be with us so I could enjoy your love, so be it.
Two new eyes, a restored bow tie, reinforced seams, clean and soft fabric, a rebuilt smile, he looked brand new.
“Well, there you are…” I murmured, running a hand over my forehead, yawning from exhaustion. “Welcome back, Percy. What do you think, Angie?”
“Oh…” the doll murmured. “It's amazing, Donna, I'm sure (Y/N) is going to love it.”
“Either that or she'll hate me forever… Is she upstairs?”
The doll nodded.
Slowly, I went up the elevator, with the animal hidden behind my back, walking slowly towards you, who seemed nervous, looking under the furniture, at least until you saw me.
“You! You crazy nutcase! What have you done with Percy?” you shouted at me, pushing me by the shoulders. I didn't move, I just shook my head. “It wasn't in its place... You threw it in the trash, right?”
“No,” I whispered with a hoarse voice, trying to keep my composure despite your angry pushes.
“Yeah, right, stop pretending, Donna. I'm sure you've gotten rid of it, how long do you plan to make me suffer?” you asked, pushing me harder and harder. “Talk, you crazy bitch! Tell me where Percy is!”
I didn't answer, no matter how much my heart hurt from your insults. I simply moved the bear from my back, holding it with both hands and showing it to you, who immediately froze, blinking several times.
“What…? Percy?” you asked confused, shyly taking the restored teddy bear. “What…?”
“Hello, (Y/N),” –I said without moving my lips, pretending to be the animal. You looked at me out of the corner of your eye and shook your head.
“It's, it's incredible… It's, it's like I remember it when my parents… Gods… What have you done?” you asked, looking at the clean bow tie, running a finger over its two now perfect eyes. The smile was starting to appear on your face.
“Donna fixed me up. She put a lot of effort into it. Look at me, I finally have two eyes,” Percy said again while I looked at you with a sad expression.
“I see…” you laughed with a sincere smile. “Look at the seams… It’s, it’s perfect…”
“Donna loves you so much. She’s tried so hard to fix me up to make you happy. She didn’t want to hurt you. She was just being silly, were you, Donna?” Percy said.
 I nodded slowly.
You shook your head and laughed amused, leaving the bear on a table and walking towards me, cupping my face in your hands.
“Donna, my love…” you whispered, with tears in your eyes. “Honey…”
“I’m so sorry, (Y/N), I didn’t mean to make you suffer… I, I just…”
You interrupted me the best way you knew, with one of your tender kisses, one that almost made me cry, one that you hadn’t given me in too long.
“I behaved like a fool too,” you said, playing with my hands. “I know the whole Percy thing was hard for you, Donna, but… Don’t, don’t worry, we’ll both make an effort to be a bit better, okay? I love you so much, my love…”
“I love you, (Y/N)…”
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elllisaaa · 19 hours
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can u do bf seungkwan thoughts please <33
BF!SEUNGKWAN who's both your partner but also your best friend.
one of his favourite things about you is that he can ramble to you without feeling you being uninterested because he knows you listen closely to every one of his words. everytime seungkwan needs to vent about a situation with someone or at work, he knows he can just yap for hours to you. and he likes it when you do the same, likes it even more when you're going on and on about a topic you like. i'm actually convinced that seungkwan keeps a list of all the things you like and dislike in his phone. on the same line, there's obviously gossiping sessions every week for the two of you - you settle with a hot drink on the couch and update each other on every ongoing drama or random thing that happened to you. that leads to seungkwan knowing every little annoying or funny person in your life, and even the names of your exes. he's the type to fake gag every time they are mentioned, but it's okay because you do the same with him. it's actually endearing how you can tease each other by making references to the things you gossip about and that only you and him understand.
"i have so many things to tell you when I get home tonight baby ! you're not gonna believe it."
seungkwan loves to spend some quality time with you. he's really busy because of his job, but every free moment he has, he spends it with you. even if it's just you coming to see him practice when you have time, or him sitting by your side while you're getting some work done, he's just happy to have your presence by his side, to feel that you're here with him. one of your rituals together is doing each other's skincare and hair. it's so relaxing to have your fingers applying creams and serum on his skin after a good shower, while you softly tell him about your day. and seungkwan does the same for you whenever you're tired, brushing your hair for you or braiding them when you don't have the energy either. another activity you love to do together is go shopping, be that for clothes, decorations items for your apartment, shoes and so on, you always have a good time and it allows him to offer some things to you. it's also an occasion to take cute pictures of the both of you on any mirror you cross, his gallery filled with these photos that he spends all his time looking at when he's away.
"i keep staring at your pretty face on my phone, i can't wait to come back to you."
another one of his love languages is physical touch. every night is worth cuddling, every time you snuggle on the couch together is worth wrapping his arms around you and pulling you on his lap, every time you cook is a chance to back hug you and kiss your shoulders. in conclusion, there's a bunch of cuddles all the time, not that you complain of course. also, seungkwan often gives you random kisses throughout the day - on your cheeks, your lips, your temples or your nose, he likes to see your cute smile every time he surprises you with another loving peck. whenever you praise him, he feels like his heart is going to burst out of his chest from too much adoration, his cheeks growing red. he scolds you and asks you to stop only because he's shy and you both know it. seungkwan love for you is obvious to anybody, and that shows through the way he always finds a way to mention you in every conversation, even when you are not there. everytime he repeats a fact that you taught him, he just has to let everyone know who told him that.
"yeah, actually y/n told me that last week, she's so smart."
BF!SEUNGKWAN who is literally obsessed with your body and the way you react to his touch, wanting nothing more than to please you.
seungkwan needs to give you everything you want, you just have to ask for it. be that his fingers, his mouth, or his cock, he's ready to give them all to you. he literally worships your body every chance he gets, every time you wear something a little revealing or tighter, seungkwan loses his mind. he wants to touch you all the time, to have his hands on you all the time. he often overstimulates you unknowingly, driving you insane just because he cannot get enough of the way you look and react when you cum. your moans turns him on a lot too, he's drinking every little sound you make. sex with seungkwan is very passionate and intimate - as much contact as possible between your body and his, lots of kisses and marks all over both your skins. he's often holding your hands too - when he's fucking you lazily, when he's eating you out and even when you're going down on your knees to suck him off. seungkwan wants you to know that he loves you and cares for you throughout the whole thing.
"your body's so fucking beautiful baby, i can't get enough of you."
in fact, he loves your body so much that he needs to take more spicy pictures of you with him when he's away, or he's getting withdrawal. seungkwan has a private folder in his phone filled with videos and photos of you or the two of you to help him get off when you're not there. there's videos of you sucking him off, touching him, riding him, unraveling while he's eating you out. there's pics of you in lingerie, touching yourself, completely bare in your mirror, wearing tight clothes that makes him hard just thinking about it. he also loves to take polaroid pictures in these moments. he has to hide them very well to be sure that no one except the two of you will ever see them, but it turns him on even more to have a material object reminding him of how good you feel around him. seungkwan can be a tease sometimes, so he will put these polaroïds in your bag sometimes or around the house for you to find them at such random moments, wanting nothing more than getting you turned on enough so that it would lead to the bedroom. also, he will lose his mind if you surprise him with new polaroids of you before he goes away, slipping them in his suitcase and he doesn't notice until he unpacks at the hotel.
"you're crazy, one of the guys could have seen this !" - "does this mean you don't like them ?" - "don't start, you know i'm gonna jerk off to your gorgeous body later."
again, intimacy is really important for seungkwan whenever the two of you are having a moment. and the highest form of intimacy in his eyes is when you let him cum inside of you. sure, he likes to just pull out and watch his release cover your pretty body. sure, he liked it when you deepthroat him and make him shoot his load down in your mouth. he loves it all. but he feels even better, even closer to you when you let him cum inside of your pussy. having your legs and arms wrapped around him, your moans falling directly in his ears, his hands holding your waist, and your walls milking him dry is definitely the best feeling ever. seungkwan insisted on keeping up with the condoms for a long time - he doesn't want to be a father just yet, he wanted to be sure that you were doing okay with your contraception. but the day he sank into you raw, his world was changed and he never wanted to come back in time. it felt like heaven every time, and he came embarrassingly fast the first time, even today, he's still not used to feeling your wet cunt without any barriers.
"s-shit… you feel so good, i'm not gonna last."
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throneofsapphics · 3 days
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the moth and the flame part 9: the yearning
poly!Nessian x f!Reader
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summary: after meeting Nesta in a bookshop, you find the darkest parts of yourselves bonding with each other. Naturally, Cassian finds himself entangled with the two of you.
warnings: light smut
a/n: this series is officially completely written, so I'm hoping to post the last parts this month!
series masterlist
You didn’t truly feel like yourself around them anymore. Instead, you’d become the version of yourself you carefully crafted and molded to please them. To make them happy. To your dismay, you hated it, but not as much as you thought you should’ve. 
‘A version of you, custom built for Nesta and Cassian,’ you thought bitterly, because apparently who you were before just wasn’t good enough. Would never be good enough. They called it your ‘lowest,’ but you thought they just couldn’t love you when you were yourself. 
That, or you were an addict with people pleasing tendencies, leading you right down these lines of thinking. In the end, you supposed there truly was no one but yourself to blame, but it was always much easier for you to blame other people. 
The high road was boring, you’d much rather be your chaotic self than a watered down version. With that in mind, you wrapped a jacket around your shoulders and took off into the night. Both Cassian and Nesta were out of town, and you had a few old haunts to track down, perhaps a friend or two who could help you out. You were good for the money, they knew that. It was time to test just how far your partner’s reach went, and just how much influence they’d attempted to extend in order to keep you how they wanted you. 
You didn’t make it far. Just seconds after you passed the threshold of your door, feet hitting the landing, the downstairs one slid open and two very familiar scents drifted in. Spring, but winter sunrise and snow chilled wind threatened to transport you somewhere else. The earlier hint of animosity you felt towards them vanished so easily you kicked yourself for it. Trying and failing to summon that back, you slid into your apartment and quickly shed your jacket and shoes. 
Questions about what you were planning on doing wouldn’t be good, because you had no solid explanation and if anything they hadn’t let you get away with vague answers recently. 
A lump formed in your throat. You were doing the opposite of what you’d vowed not to just moments ago. To keep the peace. To keep them happy. To keep yourself from going over the edge. Two of out three for them, just one for you, and it didn’t seem fair. It wasn’t fair. 
Key clicked in the locked, the door swung open, a gorgeous female and male appeared in your doorway. 
Swinging around, mouth parted lightly, careful to keep eyes wide, feigning surprise, you found a genuine sort of joy did fill you. They still had that effect on you. 
“Hello sweetheart,” Cassian strode in first, Nesta hot on his heels. After kicking his shoes off, he covered the distance between you in moments. His arms felt like home, like safety, like solace. A smaller, but still strong pair of arms wound around your waist from behind. 
“We’re happy you’re here,” Nesta whispered, as if they’d been afraid you’d be somewhere else. You didn’t like that. But ... keep the peace, you told yourself, not wanting to lose hold of that genuine joy that had gripped you, you brushed the words off. For them, you’d roll with any waves or punches, give everything you might not get back, do whatever it took to show your love. 
For you, love and hatred danced and blurred an already fine line. 
It had been so long for the three of you, that when the glances and looks grew bolder, none of you hesitated. 
When their grip on you tightened slightly, with a type of longing you didn’t remember feeling before, you leaned into it and let it anchor you. Maybe sex could be a new kind of drug to drag you to new and different highs. The thought was dangerous. Your actions were dangerous. Everything about this reeked of danger but you threw yourself into it regardless. 
Cassian’s hand ran down your thigh, pausing to squeeze right above your knee, his finger tips digging in. “Beautiful,” he murmured, almost to himself, as he pushed the fabric of your dress up further, pushing back on your shoulders to splay you out on your bed, not unlike a feast. 
Nesta crawled up next to you, her mouth kissing at your shoulder, then your breast, tongue darting at all of the sensitive areas surrounding your nipples except them. Cassian kissed up your inner thigh. 
Each movement was so tender, so sweet, and so full of something you couldn’t stand. You didn’t deserve it. You were broken and fucking unworthy. It felt like everything but love, and you couldn’t handle it a moment longer. 
“Stop,” you were barely breathing as you said the word, your heart thundering in your chest. 
Both froze in place, you slowly sat up, shifting sideways and taking care to avoid any contact with them. 
-
Nesta could only watch as you wiggled around them like they were diseased and any touch might kill you.
You grabbed your clothes, throwing them on your body haphazardly, dressing like you were running away from a one night stand. 
Never. You’d never shut anything down like this, and selfishly her first thought was what the hell had she done wrong, rather than what you might be going through. Nothing had been aggressive or rough or ... a door slammed. Then another. More clothes rustled. 
“I was just giving her a head start,” she heard Cassian say, “but I'm not letting her wander out there alone.” 
Her vision wasn’t really there, all she felt was the rejection. “I’ll stay here in case she comes back.” 
Not that you’d be able to escape Cassian’s monitoring from the sky, even in you wanted to, but she couldn’t quite track him down with you. 
It didn’t feel right, not when she’d already had one foot out the door. 
For someone with one foot out the door, she realized she was taking the rejection rather hard. 
Letting her nerves steel with a few breaths, she set about straightening up your apartment instead. It would give her something to do, and maybe show you just how little she was moved by your actions. 
-
general taglist: @rowaelinsdaughter @bookishbroadwaybish @nestaismommy @erencvlt @book-obsessed124 @callsigns-haze
acotar taglist: @lilah-asteria @yeonalie @I-am-a-lost-girl16
series taglist: @breadsticks2004 @shamelessdonutkryptonite @rowaelinsdaughter @fightmedraco @acourtofbatboydreams @readinggeeklmao @krowiathemythologynerd @kooterz @anxious-study @lilah-asteria @nestaismommy
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simpxxstan · 4 hours
Text
svt + nerdy y/n!!
a/n: this is absolutely self-indulgent. i'm sorry if i'm writing slower than usual, i'm trying to get back on track!
sfw content. gender neutral reader and established relationship.
very mildly suggestive (pg13 audience only!). nerd here refers to anyone with academic interests or a general high level of interest in uncommon/niche topics. i've tried to make the concept of nerd as inclusive as possible.
seungcheol
not a nerd himself but will encourage you 100% to be a nerd- buys you new pair of glasses when your eyesight worsens, new documentary CDs and even membership of a hundred foreign journals.
defo has a sapiosexuality kink- you can guess how attracted he is to your intelligence. but he's the smarter one on the streets, so he'll take care of you in every way possible while you stay in your little geeky bubble.
it's always baby let me recharge your phone bill for you; baby please eat your meals on time; baby you can't stop drinking water because of exam stress; baby if you're pulling an all-nighter, call me over, i don't want you to stay up all night alone.
jeonghan
loving jeonghan involves so much cuddling and lazy time when you both just lie under the blankets, his head is on your stomach and your fingers in his hair. it's at these moments that he encourages you to read out for him and he hums along whenever you pause to check if he's fallen asleep.
but jeonghan draws the line sometimes. he is supportive- but only when you're not trading off your time with him for the sake of peering into books.
you can sit with me and solve bivariate normal distributions or whatever you have to do, he whines into your ear. but you keep tickling me and i mess up the calculations! he laughs at this, i can't help it if you're just so ticklish, baby.
joshua
three years ago, joshua would've laughed if someone told him he would be more interested in the latest discoveries of astrophysics than in who's winning the la liga matches. but here he is- successfully converted into a nerd entirely because of your influence.
joshua was ridiculously easy to convert. all it had taken was the shiny, lovesick look in your eyes when you'd ask him if he wanted to watch a documentary on alternate universe theories with you, and he'd said yes in a heartbeat. and then it had just been a spiral into the metaphorical black hole. and he does NOT regret it, as long as he gets to spend time with you.
josh is this getting too boring? you'd quietly ask after an hour of the documentary, guilty for being too absorbed in it to even look at your boyfriend and see how he's faring. but joshua is melting at your concern, so even if it was a little bit boring, he'll reassure you sweetly, not at all baby! this is so new and interesting!!
jun
yes he may be from china, but clearly you know more about his own roots than he does! whenever you're watching news, jun loves it when you fill him up on some quirky background info that he didn't know about, but adds so much value to the context of the news.
in awe of your academic capabilities and keeps bragging about you to everyone. feels so proud when he can contribute to something you're passionate about too. he CANNOT fathom why someone as nerdy and intellectual as you should want to be with him.
junie, you're so smart! you praise him after he reports a profit he's making on a stocks investment. he shyly giggles, not like you, baby. you shake your head, i may be book smart. but you're street-smart!
soonyoung
hyper and calm partners!!!! he used to get annoyed with how you would pore into your books all day and how focused you were on your studies, but now he sees the charm in it all. it makes you happy, and in turn, he gets to wrap himself around you and be as clingy as he likes.
he really tries to follow with your nerdiness, his enthusiasm is there he swears! it's just not his fault that his attention span is so low and he ends up staring at your lips more than actually listening to you.
baby are you even listening? you ask, pouting. it drive him even more insane and he ends up giving in to his instincts and kissing you. yes baby! i heard everything!
wonwoo
WILL BE GEEKY WITH YOU! i imagine the two of you sitting next to each other at a table, him focused on his games and you're focused on your studies, your feet in his lap, and you're both sharing the same cup of coffee.
he loves collecting pretty little diaries for you, because he knows you write little poems and trivia in those diaries. whenever he's out on tour, he's bringing a locally-made diary for you, and if possible, he customises it with your name imprinted on it too.
wonwoo, there's a new adaptation of pygmalion getting shown in the theatre! do you want to go watch? i want to take notes from this adaptation and write about it on my blog... you need not even explain so much, wonwoo bought the tickets already when you began to talk about it.
jihoon
feels so giddy when he comes home from work and the first thing you do (in between his kiss attacks) is tell him a new fact you learnt today in whatever is your latest obsession.
jihoon loves his personal space, so when he's found you who's equally fond of your personal space and interests, it's literally a match made in heaven. they say it'll put distance between the two of you, but it really does quite the opposite!
jihoonie, can you help me learn this table? maybe ask me randomly and i'll try to answer. jihoon wants to tell the table to self-destruct from the entire world because you're near to tears trying to mug it up. but he doesn't. instead he says, love, how about i make a song for you which simplifies this? like a mnemonic but nicer.
seokmin
man was too desperate to get out of school to understand why you choose to be a nerd. but it's hella cute, so he doesn't need to understand. he's obsessed with your quirky habits- the way you bite your lips when you're finding a topic difficult, the way your glasses slip down your nose and you irritatedly push it up again, the way you crave the hot chocolate he makes when you're under exam stress.
admires your smartness so much! WILL brag about it to everyone he meets. WILL bring up the fact you told him yesterday, in today's conversation with his members just to show off your smartness.
posts stories about you being so cute while working hard for your exams but it's just you with oiled hair, acne breaking out like hellfire, and cramming notes at breakneck speed (you don't talk to him for an hour after this, but he doesn't get why you're so embarrassed, he only sees cuteness.)
mingyu
another one who WILL be nerdy with you. mingyu's always been a curious boy- even as a child, he would be drawn into new ideas easily. nothing is different now, and mingyu sits with you often when you're studying, his hands often wandering to your shoulders to massage them, and bringing you a regular supply of ramen and snacks.
you have a habit of repeating to yourself what you read, so mingyu steps in and asks you to talk to him and explain the topics to him as if you're teaching him. safe to say, he gets VERY turned on after such mock 'teaching' lessons and eventually loses focus on what you're saying.
gyu do you remember that paper i wrote last month? yeah, it got selected for a journal. you say it so nonchalantly that any other person would think you're showing off. but mingyu knows how much it means to you, and you're only downplaying it because you think mingyu won't think it to be a big deal, as most academic snobs tend to do. but lucky for you, mingyu knows exactly how precious an achievement it is to you, so he shows his appreciation to you instead of merely saying it (by showering you with kisses that make you tingle all over).
minghao
OH oh. will listen to your rants with the sweetest subtle smile on his face. will buy encyclopedias and reference books for your mini library. will take you to speaker sessions, workshops and other such informative events across the city, even places you've no idea about.
the most ardent supporter you could have asked for, he is in awe of your mental capabilities and your intelligence. you both have a lot of quality time where you're just sitting together and doing your things, but minghao values it like no other activity in the world.
hao? there's a new parcel at the door. you call him when a delivery arrives and he's at work. open it. he may not be around to see your reaction, but he can sure imagine the grin that's bursting out on your face when you squeal his name into the phone on seeing the hardcover special edition version of your favourite collection of essays.
seungkwan
lots of wide-eyed wondering at why you would want to stay rooted at a spot and read books over playing badminton with him. he wants to complain that you've chosen your academics over him, but that'd be a lie, so he can only half-heartedly whine about it.
comes around to your point of view as soon as you start showing him documentaries (on animals living in the Himalayas, as per your latest obsession). it begins with him finding the animals cute, to eventually finding you cute when you animatedly talk about them. and once he's totally converted, it's fairly easy for you to convince him to help you with exams.
expect eye rolls, smug smiles and hair being brushed back nonchalantly when the questions he had asked last night from your texts actually matched with the ones asked in the exam. i told you, baby, he whispers in your ear. now i want my reward, you've been drowned in books for way too long and not paying any attention to your boyfriend.
vernon
it was a surprise to him as well when he realised he's got a massive sapiosexuality kink. as someone who's run as far away from the education system as he could, he doesn't even know why he finds it so attractive when you're being nerdy. but, well, he does.
he loves hearing you talk about whatever it is that you're learning lately, and sometimes something or the other catches his attention. and then, you know he'll dive right deep into it to know all about it, until his curiosity is satisfied.
nonie, what's the video you sent me? you ask him when you return home from uni. i wondered if you've watched this one. it explains the theories of why the harappan civilization disappeared so well. you can only smile at his enthusiasm, i bet you've been looking at conspiracy theories again, nonie. the guilty grin on his face says it all.
chan
chan listens so well, but you can't really blame him if he doesn't retain the information. he's elated simply to have you wrapped in his arms as you talk about what happened in your classes today, and his nose in the crook of your neck so he can smell your lovely scent. intermittently nods his head (just wants to rub his nose on the soft skin of your neck) and hums in agreement of what you just said (suppressing moans when he can feel your heartbeat quicken when he presses kisses to your neck too).
it doesn't matter what your new niche is, but he's indulging it. he admires your ability to stay focused in a field as demanding as academia, and he's all for you to go ahead with your interests and education as long as you want to learn.
you wake up to post-its on your forehead every day when chan has had to leave early for work: get out of the house and get fresh air. shampoo hair today, interview tomorrow. practice the introduction speech again. drink water and take vitamins. STOP DRINKING COFFEE. and you giggle at each of them, because they're all things you've tried to remember for yourself and forgotten, so chan reminds you like this, but his cute handwriting and the little XOXOXOs he's drawn all over make your heart melt.
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cazzyf1 · 2 days
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The other day on my tiktok I created a simple post about how James Hunt is more than just the Playboy persona that is associated with him. This flew over someone's head who commented about how he was a Playboy. I responded explaining the point of the video but instead they doubled down saying that James didn't care about F1 only about partying.
So today I went through some of my books and gathered a load of quotes to show the James Hunt that most people do not know about, the one outside of the Playboy perception. I've posted it on tiktok but figured I'll upload it here as well so the true James Hunt can reach more people and slowly we can dismantle the reputation 'Rush' gave him ❤️
TW: Depression, unhealthy coping mechanisms/addictions
When you think of James Hunt you think of the 'playboy'. The guy who partied, drank lots, took drugs and slept with lots of women. Its true he did that, and a lot but to dismiss him as just that is wrong. He was a good driver, a person who tried his best, a kind man who cared for human & animal rights.
The next few slides I've compiled quotes from a few books and website to show what kind of person he actually was and what he went through in life and that less people will dismiss him as just a Playboy.
James Hunt's first marriage was rocky because James was already very involved in his addictions and he knew he didn't love Susy because he felt that he wasn't capable of love. But he felt responsible for her and wanted to look after her. Here is his own opinion from his book ->
"It was really THE problem. I thought that marriage was what I wanted and needed to give me a nice stable and quiet home life, but in fact it wasn't and the key mistake was mine. I really wanted to go racing on my own, and it wasn't much fun for Susy to sit at home and wait for me all that time. It was also a terrible hassle for her to come racing because race meetings were probably the most relaxing time in my schedule. The rest of the time you tend to be leaping on aeroplanes once a day and that made it even worse because it's bad enough organizing one person to get on an aeroplane. Organizing two gets to be twice as much hassle. It got to the point where it was a problem for Susy to come travelling and a hell of a deal for her to stay at home. It was making life miserable in the extreme for her and since I felt responsible for her it was making me miserable too. So we had agreed to split up and then Richard Burton came along and solved all the problems. We had had an immensely successful marriage because I learnt an awful lot about myself and life and I think Susy did too. We all ended up happy, anyway, which is more than can be said for a lot of marriages" - p14 Against All Odds
Much is said about James Hunt and the ladies he kept company, and without knowing anything about James you might assume the worst, but here's some quotes about what he was actually like with the ladies ->
"I don't usually have sex before a race because I am very definitely concentrating -I find that it is the communication between two people that makes it worth- while, and before a race I am pretty uncommunicative. However, if say I have an hour or so to spare before dinner on the night before a race then I can enjoy the physical release. But I will only do it with someone who is fully understanding" - p15 Against All Odds
"He was always attentive to his partners needs. Indeed much of his satisfaction came from giving pleasure. The only problem, some of them confessed, was that his desire to please often out-stripped their needs" - p264 James Hunt: The Biography
"I was sure he was gay, because he never made a move on me for so long" - p278 Jane Birbeck, long time partner, James Hunt: The Biography
"He missed the actual skirmish - he was inside getting drinks at the bar - but had to be forcibly restrained from going after the policeman who hit his girlfriend" - p284 James Hunt: The Biography
James Hunt had many affairs in his time, because he had become an addict to many things including women (more on this later) He was aware of his and it plagued James that he couldn't control it ->
"One evening she returned to their London home to find James in tears. He was tormented by feelings of guilt caused by his lust for other women. He confessed the full extent of his unfaithfulness, that it was unfair to her and that for her sake they couldn't remain a couple. It wasn't that he was bored with her, but that his desire for other women was insatiable and uncontrollable. He held Jane in his arms and they both wept" - p320
One thing that helped James in his life time was his love for animals especially his pet dog Oscar. Here are some quotes about his love for animals and how far he would go to help protect them ->
"I think in a way Oscar was the child James never had at that stage. He was a remarkable dog, no question, but James thought a lot about animals and their requirements and was very concerned about their needs. He gave Oscar the very best treatment and also was keenly intrested in the welfare of other dogs. He would look at a dog, wonder if it's owner was treating it well and bringing it up properly and if the dog was getting everything out of life that it could" - p281
"Before he came to know James better, the journalist Nigel Roebuck was pleasantly surprised by an incident involvinged stray dog. It was late in the evening after a Grand Prix and tha teams were packing up to leave when James, while talking to Roebuck, saw the dog wandering around the paddock, shiver-ing and obviously very hungry. Roebuck, also sensitive to the needs of an animal in distress, went with James to several of the team motorhomes where they got food and fed the dog. But that wasn't the end of it as far as James was concerned. He insisted that they should take the dog up to the race control centre.
Roebuck: 'He took the dog in there and would not leave until he was sure it would be looked after. James actually made this official sign a piece of paper saying he would take care of the dog and see that it was housed and properly cared for. I was very impressed with this. James was probably one of only a handful of people on this entire planet who would even give that sort of thing a second thought." - p281
"He also thought the wild animals residing on his estate should be left alone. If vermin had to be controlled it should be done in the most humane way possible, and he strongly dissaproved of blood sports. The very thought of fox hunting he found horrible and he vowed not to allow it on his property" - p308
James was also incredibly caring towards the young people in his life such as his sons and his younger siblings. Here’s an extract from his first GF about James and his siblings ->
".. the way he expressed his concern for the emotional youngest members of his family:
He really enjoyed looking after them, and just seeing the way the behaved with his little brothers and sisters you knew was instinctive in him. He was always going to be a good father.
One evening he invited her home where he was babysitting Jo Jo, Dave and Tim. When James had tucked them in he left Ping to read them a bedtime story. When Ping came downstairs James asked her if she had helped them say their prayers. When I said no, James said: "Right. You've missed out hugely there. Come on, we'd better go and do it." So they did. His attitude was that he was taught to do that by his parents and it simply had to be done.'
But he also practised what he preached, and he believed in the power of prayer. In the troubled years to come James would pray to God for strength and help, and he eventually passed on the bedtime prayer ritual to his own two boys, to whom he became completely devoted.
During his time with Ping he had talked about having children, and she thinks fatherhood earlier in his life would have prevented James from sinking into his period of decadence.
I felt so sorry for him then because I knew underneath it wasn't the real James doing this. I think he was trying to make life happy, the wrong way. If he had settled down earlier, had a more normal home life with children of his own when he was younger, one could have seen a totally different James.' - p26
James Hunt cared for human rights especially taking a stand against the Apartheids in South Africa. The Apartheids in short was a system of racial segregation. In protest most sports were not going to South Africa but Formula One still was, and James Hunt made it clear his thoughts
->
“We were once covering the South African Grand Prix during the days of apartheid. All of a sudden, and for no particular reason, he launched into an attack on apartheid.
“It was nothing to do with the Grand Prix, nor would it do British-South African relations any good. Our producer pushed a piece of paper across saying: ‘Talk about the race!’
“And then James blurted out on air: ‘Thank God we’re not actually there!”
But simply calling out Apartheid on the air wasn’t enough for Hunt. He sought to have his race commentaries blocked from being broadcast in South Africa, but was unsuccessful.
When that didn’t work, he instead — and secretly — gave financial support from his income as a race broadcaster to groups struggling to end Apartheid in South Africa."
"His deeply compassionate and loving nature was something that, unfortunately, wasn't adequately conveyed to the public, who only ever heard about the sensational side of James Hunt" - p282 John Watson
As mentioned earlier James Hunt was an addict. His playboy lifestyle was his addictions and this is all rooted back to the fact that James Hunt had depression which grew stronger and stronger. He relied on his additions to get rid of his depression which meant he kept doing more and more. Here are some quotes about his struggle with it and eventually how he overcame it ->
"At home James became increasingly introverted, uncommunicative and reclusive. He gave up golf and spent more and more of his time in the aviary tending his budgies. While the parties continued he would often leave the guests to Sarah and closet himself in the aviary for hours on end.
It became obvious that James was very troubled, but only Sarah and his closest friends knew the full extent of the anguish and despair James suffered during his bouts with what he called his 'dippers'.
Black dog' was the term Winston Churchill used for the recurring 'depressions which afflicted him throughout his life. Bubbles Horsley thinks James was 'born with a "black dog" on his shoulder. His racing pushed the "dog" away far enough so that it was no longer visible. But underneath that wonderful joie de vivre, the laughter and enjoying life, he was given to black moods. He was fearful of them and maybe it was that fear that drove him on. Perhaps without it he would never have been World Champion.
'And I think after the initial "honeymoon" of retirement from racing the black dog came and sat on his shoulder and wouldnt go away. So he became more fearful and sought distraction in various ways, through sex and drink and drugs and rock and roll, as it were." - p323
"At home Sarah watched her husband's condition worsen and desperately sought to help him. She thought his depressiond might partly be due to a chemical imbalance that James was born with, a theory that James explored himself. Then, too, to keep his dippers at bay he consumed too much alcohol and marijuana, both of which can temporarily bring relief but over the long term on have depressive effects.
Like others, Sarah felt that another reason for his 'dippers' might have been because he cut off his emotions early in his life and never learned how to open up to people, or to need them. He was essentially a lonely man and his inability to form close relationships made him despair. His depressions further deadened his feelings, and when he was unable to respond emotionally to marriage and children he grew progressively more despondent.
Sarah: 'He was at war with himself. His depressions became Intolerable and towards the end he stopped trying to fight them coming on because he knew they would take over for two days or week. His face would go black and he would take to his bed and stay there, even on Christmas Day. He'd gone to bed two days beforehand and we had Christmas stockings for the boys. I said, Come on, Beast, the boys are waiting." And he said, "Beast, i can't do it." And he was crying" - p333
"When James felt a "dipper" coming on he would go on two- or three-day benders, mostly drinking vodka. He would just keep going and going, which was always a bit terrifying, and after these deep, dark blank days he would suffer real self-loathing. He could forget his trouble with drink, but it always came back.
For many years trying to get rid of his depression was his major concern, which is why he got the budgerigars. He thought it would be such a huge amount of effort that it would distract him and they became an obsession rather than a hobby. He would sit in the aviary for hours, but he would come back still in the grip of gloom. And for a long time he was so down it was very hard to even converse with him." - p326
"He tried different treatments acupuncture, Chinese herbal medicine and looked into every possible theory. He went to different healers, therapists, psychologists, psychiatrists, psychoanalysts, the lot, to try and find the root of his depression. And in the end he cracked it" - p337
"He began to become more diet-conscious and to eat healthy foods. He also consumed information, in books and magazines, on overcoming addictions, and sought more professional help.
He knew he should stop smoking cigarettes and reduce his marijuana consumption, and he told some friends he thought he might be an alcoholic. He worried that his need for women was another form of addiction and feared he might contract AIDS and infect someone else.
John Hogan: 'So he stopped it all. Straightened himself out by absolute willpower. The strength of character of the man enabled him to get out of it. He cut out the cigarettes, the dope and drugs. the booze and the womanising and his sense of priorities became more well-balanced.' - p338
As he started healing himself of his addictions he became serious about F1 again. He always cared for the sport, doing everything he could to race when he was younger and now though he was retired he still commentated and took part in other ways to stay close to the sport ->
"James became serious about strengthening his position in the media side of Formula 1 racing. He took on an internationally syndicated newspaper column and spent many hours gathering information for it. Working with a journalist he applied himself conscientiously to making sure that every word was written to his satisfaction" - p338
James started to heal his relationships as well, becoming an amazing parent to his two boys and finally meeting a woman who helped him feel loved and be able to love after so long of not being able to ->
"The boys were real handfuls to look after but he was awfully good with them and he really fathered and mothered them extremely well. He was always up early in the morning cooking their breakfast and then the four of us would go off salmon fishing. James would fish properly and I would fool around fishing with the youngsters. And then in the evening we used to settle down and he would tell them stories." - p343
A letter James sent to his girlfriend Helen:
"I went to the parents' 50th in a totally negative frame of mind, feeling very much an outsider and wanting the floor to swallow me up. As the day went on, although I remained 'out- side', I could see and feel lots of generous, undemanding love around me. Something changed for me there with my family. Everyone was exuding love and I saw the wonder of it and want to be part of it, but firstly with you.
I realise now that the feeling of not being loved as a child made me close up to any incoming love projected onto me. I do see that I cannot live on without love. You brought it home to me when you pointed out how well I'm doing with the boys. Well I have had to work at that and I've got better at it and I have to do it with you. You are the girl of my dreams. Without you I have no future. I want to make you happy and continue to do so until I die.
All my love for the love of my life,
James"
- p350
Finally James was happy. He was healed from his addictions, in a healthy relationship, had two lovely sons and a job he loved. And best of all he was able to be open with Helen ->
"James confessed to Helen that he was unable to be faithful to anyone in the past because sex was for him just another addiction and he needed women to get his highs. He disliked social gatherings and only had parties or went to them to pick up women. Helen was willing to forgive and forget what went on before, but told him she wouldn't tolerate it in their relationship and he agreed to be faithful to her." - p350
Helen went away on a girls holiday before her and James were going to start trying for children. James proposed to her over the phone on the holiday to which she said yes. But she would never see her finance because he passed away from a heart attack. Unfortunately the previous life he lead caught up to him.
Thank you for reading all of this and I hope you now know more about James Hunt than you already did! It's sad that James is best known now for his unhealthy coping mechanisms for his depression, especially with the film 'Rush' romanticising it. But even if just one person reads all of this it means one more person knows the truth of James Hunt and that makes it worth it ❤️
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suzukiblu · 13 hours
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WIP excerpt: the Core Four gangs up on Kon's objectification kink. (( chrono || non-chrono ))
And really, Cassie has always been perfectly happy about having a cunt, but fuck, right now she can see the temptation of having a cock instead. She wants to fuck the mess of Kon’s mouth so bad. She could just go dig out her strap, obviously, but the idea of using a toy on a toy doesn’t really feel like it fits, and she doesn’t wanna break immersion or anything. 
“It probably would,” Tim muses, and then he buries his face against her shoulder, his breath coming soft and short and staccato. He’s definitely close, yeah. He can usually hold out pretty long, especially after all this time of learning how to best pace himself to keep up with the rest of them, but he’s still a baseline human. “Mmm. ‘Pretty’ how?” 
“Like pretty,” Cassie says, and drags her thumb down the come-slick center of Kon’s lower lip, pressing down on it and stretching it away from his teeth. He’s still not breathing, and his eyes still don’t try to focus. “Mm. You really made a mess in there, Bart.” 
She probably said that already, but considering her personal taste for a partner making a mess in her, well . . . 
That must feel good, that’s all. 
“I mean, whatever, I can mess it up however I wanna if I’m the one cleaning it out,” Bart replies with a dismissive shrug, not even bothering to look down at Kon as he says it. Cassie lets go of his face and wipes her sticky fingers off across his chest, making the gesture careless and uncaring. Like she’s just using the nearest surface she isn’t worried about staining, because a toy wouldn’t stain; like she’s not concerned about how dried come on his skin might feel for Kon if he doesn’t get cleaned up before it does, because why would a toy feel anything? 
“Fair point,” Cassie says as she reaches back to stroke through Tim’s hair a few times, because his breathing just picked up a little sharper and she’s pretty sure he’s about to– 
“Mm,” Tim murmurs quietly into her shoulder as he comes inside Kon, his body tensing up against her back and hands gripping her breasts tighter for a moment, purposeless and directionless. Cassie strokes his hair again and presses a quick little kiss against his temple as his hips slow and stutter through the last of his orgasm, and stops rocking her own hips and ignores Kon’s cock inside her as anything but a source of pleasant pressure and fullness, like it’s not as important as Tim right now. 
“Had fun?” she asks him, dragging her nails lightly against his scalp. He presses a kiss of his own against her shoulder and shifts back enough to pull out of Kon–which he doesn’t usually do that quick; usually he takes his time about it, because Kon likes how it feels. But if Kon’s not here, and just a toy is . . . well, then obviously Tim wouldn’t have a reason to do that, would he. 
Kon doesn’t make the whiny little disappointed noise he usually does when Tim or Bart pulls out of him, though. 
So–yeah, Cassie is pretty sure she’s going to get herself off to literally just this scene and nothing else until the next time they can all get together at once. Pretty much positive, actually. Pretty definitely positive.
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