konohagakure, despite being the largest of all the hidden villages, was small enough for the sound of your family name to send ripples cascading down the spines of every shinobi who resided here.

the clearing collateral damage of the warring states period, and the creation of the hidden leaf was a beacon of promise that guided your ancestors to ingrain themselves within the fabric of its history. your forefathers, once vehement warriors, abandoned their violence once and for all to exchange it for status. 

blades raised with the intention to kill became firm handshakes that birthed clan alliances.

the spilling of blood became the pouring of luxurious wines.

and cumbersome, blood-stained armour became bespoke clothing, woven with fine silks and embroidered with the most intricate of patterns.

your parents, the leader and matriarch of the (l/n) clan, could easily pass as architects. they mapped out your existence, and constructed it carefully to ensure you would align with the reputation that preceded you. 

your efficacy in combat. your savoir faire. the cadence of your voice: you were built to be the picture of civility, befitting of the eventual heir to a strong legacy. you recognised your privilege, and you were grateful for the luxury of being brought up this way. however, your feelings of resentment were greater than any feelings of gratitude you could garner.

you hated that your upbringing was never truly for your own good, but rather, for the good of whoever's hands you were going to get tossed into. your family cared more about preserving the clan image than you, and you hated it.

you hated that you felt like a mere mass of consciousness, sealed inside of a doll to be played with by others. you were trapped in your own body, and you were forced to watch as your own blood negotiated with your suitor's family. 

during visits, your suitor would look at you with soft eyes. they would have the nerve to smile at you. their kindness felt like salt being rubbed into an open wound. anyone would've liked them, but you simply didn't—you couldn't. further insult gets added to your injury when you hear everyone in the room talk about you as if you were breathing currency; like a prized possession.

you were a sacrificial lamb being offered to somebody you did not know, nor care about. it fanned the flames of hatred that burned in your heart to the point of rebellion.

it's a rebellion that's futile, but you indulge in the freedom it gives you regardless. you're willing to pay in punishment, because it's probably the last time you will be able to rebel. you don't care for a moment if it's all illusory and fleeting. the sun will set, and you will sneak out to see neji in the isolated forest you've been meeting up at for the past few years, like you always have.

it began when the two of you were paired together by lady tsunade—assigned to a long-term mission outside the village on the basis that you were both high-performing students with similar backgrounds. your clan were famed for their taijutsu, and so was his. you'd score near-perfectly in exams, and so would he. you accelerated up the ranks quicker than your genin peers, and you were spending less time with your three-man squad. just like you, neji was prodigious.

there was an air of gravitas surrounding your clan that neji acknowledged, because it reminded him of his own. so when you walked into the hokage’s office with blunt-cut short hair, he frowned. what others saw as a superficial aesthetic change, neji recognised as a reminder of shame and disgrace; a punitive style. he had seen the same thing happen to hinata in childhood, when it was decided that she was much too timid, and much too weak to be the heiress to the hyuga clan’s head branch. he wonders what shame hangs over your head. he wonders if you too, have been forsaken by fate. 

he wants to make things easy for you.

he knows you're more than capable as a fighter, but he still feels compelled to look out for you more than you need him to.

he carries you on his back when you complain blankly about a minor ache in your legs. he dresses your wounds, even though you could've done it yourself. he never moves when you rest your head against his shoulder. 

why? 

because it feels good to serve on his own terms, and not because of fate.

a month and a few days have passed. nightfall has arrived, accompanied by floating lanterns in the sky, and fireflies lighting up the path you're both on. once again, you find yourself being carried on neji’s back, with your arms draped loosely over his shoulders, and with eyes shut against him.

“neji?” you call out softly.

“yes, y/n?” his voice is equally soft.

“thank you.”

neji pauses briefly. “your gratitude is unnecessary, y/n. there’s no need to thank me.” he says, flatly. 

his tone makes you roll your eyes. 

“and don't roll your eyes at me,” neji continues his admonishment. “i have a feeling you did that.”

“why shouldn't i?” 

“because you know very well that it’s rude to.”

“i’m aware, genius,” you tease, caustically. “i meant to ask why i shouldn't thank you, not why i shouldn't roll my eyes at you, neji.” 

“because, y/n,” he bites back. “it’s standard for shinobi to protect their teammates. i should be doing this for you regardless.”

“sure, but my legs aren't even hurting right now. i could walk on my own.”

“so then, would you prefer to walk, y/n?”

in that moment, you realise that it's not about whether or not you want to walk. it’s about whether or not you want to let go of neji, and you don't want to. so you wrap your arms around his neck with more intention, resting your cheek against his head. his hair feels soft against your face.

“i don't want to walk…”

a rapid exhale escapes neji's nostrils. the ghost of a smile forms on his face, away from your vision. 

“fine. you don't have to walk, then.”

eventually, neji’s footsteps stop when you both reach the inn you’ve been staying at since the mission’s start. the doors open to reveal the innkeeper’s seat, which is now vacant. you're glad she isn’t here right now, because if she were, she wouldn't shut up about how close you two were. neji loosens the grip on your thighs, a cue for you to dismount from his back, and walk back gingerly to your shared bedroom.

the bedroom is dark, with the only sources of light being the moon and lanterns outside working in tandem. you’re sat on the edge of the bed, putting your hair in a silk bonnet. at last, you can finally slip out of your heavier shinobi wear, and into your night clothes. it’s a silken dress that flares gently at your bust and stops just below your knees. your clan insignia is a delicate pattern, faintly printed across the dress.

at times, neji would steal glances at the dress against your skin, and memorise the detailing woven into the fabric before falling asleep on the floor. you didn't like the fact that he chose to sleep there, and you had protested against it on the first night. neji, however, insisted that you have the singular bed all to yourself. his obstinacy was stronger than your objections, so you just let it go, and routine was set, never to be spoken of again. 

routine was deviated from on this night, though. 

you felt the mattress dip from behind you, paired with the shifting sounds of the bed creaking. it isn't long before you can feel the warmth of neji’s body radiating onto your back. it coaxes you to turn around, and settle on your other side. now, you're face-to-face with him. in a rare moment where his headband is removed, you can see the seal emblazoned on his forehead. he's zoned out with half-lidded, milky eyes that don't budge from your face. 

exhaustion from the events of the day. sounds of fireworks outside. the wind against the windows. it all leaves you both in a trance-like state, where you find that neither of you care about the fact that you're staring at each other.

“neji?” silence is finally broken.

he says nothing, but the light in his eyes return when you speak.

“why are you so…” you pause, looking for the most appropriate word to define neji's behaviour. “nice to me?”

“what are you talking about?”

“well,” you half-whisper. “i mean, when we share food, you always give me the bigger portion, as if you're not hungry. you always want to patch me up, even if it's a tiny scratch that’ll just heal anyway…”

his eyes dart quickly before meeting yours again.

“...even today, you carried me. i know it's okay to hold me.. but you keep doing it. do you think i’m weak or something? tell me.”

he scoffs. “no. lady tsunade chose you to accompany me for a reason, y/n. that alone is proof of your strength. you’re one of our brightest kunoichi. use your head.”

“okay, okay,” you sigh. “so if you think i’m not weak, why do you do all of that?”

“because i think you’re strong." neji pauses to reconsider his words. “because i think there's something you're trying to be strong about, rather.”

you remain silent.

“do you remember when you were called to lady tsunade’s office before this mission? you had longer hair before that.”

your heart pounds against your ribs. “yeah. i did…”

“you didn't look so good.” 

you kick his leg.

“i wasn't calling you ugly, calm down,” neji brushes your leg away. “i mean you had a miserable look on your face. i didn't want to be presumptuous, and i didn't want to overstep by asking you, but clearly, something happened…” 

he already has an outline of what it could be: a clan-related problem. he just wants you to confirm it.

“you wanna know?”

“yes, but only if you’re willing to tell me.”

you take a deep breath. your throat feels tight, but your words rise to the surface regardless.

“you're the first person i’m saying this to, okay?”

neji nods slowly, with eyes staring intently into yours.

“i’ve been betrothed to somebody.” your voice trembles. “i’ve met them, and while they do seem lovely, it’s not something i want at all. i don’t want to be something to just… give away.”

the corners of neji’s mouth grow slightly downturned at your revelation. 

“and it just hit me—is this what i was raised for? to be some bride that just happens to fight? there's no way that's gonna be my life. so, i told my parents that i didn't want to follow through with the marriage, and they told me i had no place to,” you clear your throat. “and that if i am to be a good wife, i should first learn to not object, and instead, accept fate. to hell with that,” a scoff leaves your mouth. “i know better than to bite the hand that feeds me, but i was so hurt. i couldn't contain my anger. you know how that feels, right?”

neji nods his head slowly. memories of his fight against hinata during the chunin exams return to him in fragments. each one feels like a blister reopening.

“i do.” his voice is quiet.

“i tried to land a hit on my father,” you continue. “he caught my fist, of course. and after that, he cut my hair in front of my entire clan. i guess it was to shame me, and it worked. he did humiliate me.” for a moment, its like you're reliving that situation. your words revitalise the past, and once again, it taunts you in the present.

neji’s suspicions were confirmed. you too, were foresaken by fate.

no, you didn't have a seal that would be released at death, but still, you were imprisoned by your circumstances, just like him. neji himself knew that eventually, he’d have to preserve the legacy of the hyuga’s branch family, and birth another caged child. he wouldn't know who his suitor would be yet, but the fact remained that it was inevitable and sure to happen, as fate is. 

“that wasn't easy to talk about, was it?” his voice is more subdued in approach.

you’re trying to keep yourself together, but the memories from that day flood your mind. the pain of it makes you sit up from your reclined position, with tears flowing down your face.

a weak “sorry” is all you can muster, but you should know by now that neji doesn't care for apology. just as you're about to wipe your tears, neji also sits up to cup your face in his palms. his thumbs brush away your tears as they fall. he doesn't attempt to speed up your weeping with verbal consolation. you have all night to cry, just as he has all night to dry your eyes. 

“it's justified. you shouldn't be sorry.”

neji wanted to remain reticent about his life. this was only a mission, and you were only his teammate—no more, no less. but he couldn't remain silent. he saw so much of himself in you. you shouldered a heavy burden against fate and shared it with him, so he decided to lay out his burden in front of you.

“i’ve also been placed in a situation i wish i could escape.” 

your tears cease to fall, and his hands detach from your face. it’s your turn to touch his face this time. your fingers delicately trace the seal on his forehead.

“this is a part of it, isn't it?” you ask softly.

“it is.”

“you spoke about it at the chunin exams. i remember.”

he nods. “i wish i could be free, but i know i won’t be. it won't be long before i continue this cycle. like you, i’ll be trapped in marriage, adding onto this cycle…” his tone is laced with bitterness.

your heart aches.

“but,” his tone returns to neutrality. “i think working with you is the freest i’ve ever felt. it could sound selfish, but the reason i do all this for you is because i want to. i somewhat lied to you when i said that it’s because i should be doing it.”

you tilt your head slightly, surprised at his transparency. neji, ever the professional, was finally talking about himself for once. 

“the main branch don't thank us for our forced servitude as branch members. but you always thank me for making my own choices. i tell you it doesn't matter, but it does.”

your fingers move from the seal on his forehead. they run through the strands of hair that frame his face.

“you’ve made things bearable. and i see the things you're going through. i think part of me wanted to make it bearable for you too… you don't have to be strong all the time.”

you don't know if this interaction would've still happened if you both weren't tired out of your minds. you're probably never gonna get this level of vulnerability with neji ever again, so you force yourself to stay up. to keep looking into his eyes.

“you don't have to be strong all the time.” his voice echoes in your head.

you've never felt so seen before. you lay back down on your side, with your head against the pillow. he mirrors your position, facing you. some of his hair falls over his shoulder, and you brush it away.

“neither do you,” you whisper. your eyelids feel heavy. “again… thank you.”

“it’s fine, y/n. get some sleep.” neji’s eyes are already shut. you both fall asleep right after that.

years have passed.

war is over.

and neji’s heart continues to blossom after that mission, albeit in quiet ways that go unnoticed by others. in a crowd full of people, his longing eyes will devote themselves to his memory by stealing glances at you from across the room.

he’s a ghost whose hands caress the skin of your thighs under the table when you sit together. he is the perfect stranger in public who leaves messages that are indecipherable to everyone except you. 

with bound wings, neji felt as though he could soar in your presence. he found himself believing in the doctrine of fate devoutly: that life is fixed, and the future is set in stone. but he could have never predicted how strongly he’d feel for you. with a distinguished family of his own and expectations that weighed on him, he found solace in you. your life was a mirror of his own. he know your heart as if it were his.

and you both know you're being reckless. you know it's impossible to stop your soon-approaching marriages, and you know that neji will disappear into the arms of another hyuga, instead of retreating into yours.

but still, you never fail to meet him at night in that same spot in the forest, laid down on a blanket of grass away from the watchful gaze of your clans. the trees here were the keepers of your most precious memories and secrets. they shield you as moonlight peeks through its thick branches. 

"i missed you, y/n,” neji whispers against your neck. "it’s ridiculous..." 

he pulls you onto his lap and inhales your aroma before pressing light kisses along your neck, as if you're made of fine china—like you'll shatter into pieces if he isn't careful. neji loved to embrace you particularly for this reason. your body was a space where he could forget his strength. he could get lost in you, imagining a life where he'd never have to fight again and instead, devote every ounce of his tenderness to you.

your breathy exhales fade into the wind for every kiss he plants. "i know," your faint voice lingers in his ears. "i missed you too, neji..." 

so much pain is trapped in so few words. in the past, the ache of separation was tolerable, because you knew that you’d find relief in seeing each other here again. but this time, you're not so certain. 

"they came to my house today, you know." you confide, cupping his cheek.

neji raises a brow in interest, his pearl-like eyes scanning yours. the despondency in your eyes is enough evidence for him to piece together what you're talking about.

you didn't want to desecrate this sacred space with talk of the outside world, but you couldn't allow neji to remain ignorant. 

he takes a pause that feels like forever. "what happened? what did they say?"

your hand slips off of neji's cheek, and it remains clenched at your side. "my family paid the dowry." you hated having to verbalise that. it felt like you were really speaking it into existence.  

"i see." he pauses. "so your fate has been decided."

"neji..." your voice falters.

"there's nothing we can do." a slightly mournful edge slips in between his words.

"we knew that this would happen, though.” your tone lowers. “your clan would never accept me, even though we've built such a legacy for ourselves. i'm no match for a hyuga."

neji takes the clenched fist from your side, and plants a soft kiss on the back of it. 

“in spite of that, you're a match for me.” the look in his eyes breaks your heart. “we can’t do anything about the future, y/n. let's do something about the present. while we still have each other.”

you're both like magnets, unable to resist the pull of your faces as they draw closer, and eventually, connect lip-to-lip. in the past, the kisses tasted sweeter. they were a teasing defiance in response to your future. you’d hold back smiles and laughs, thinking you were both above it all. it was thrilling, to put on a show in front of everyone, only to drop the act, and kiss and kiss until your lips grew pleasantly sore in private.

but now, as his tongue wraps around yours, you can only taste a fervency that’s driven by fear. a taste you recognise all too well, because it lives in you too. he's scared that he’ll lose you to the future. he’s scared that this is really going to be the last time. 

he knows it will be.

his mouth is still on yours when he leans forwards with a hand on your chest, gently pushing you onto the soft grass. he looms over you, with both forearms planted on either side of your head. when your eyes open, neji is the only thing you can see. it’s unfair how gorgeous he looks, with his hair spilling forwards, and a soft blush adorning his skin. he’s an empty promise, staring right at you.

“will you think of me?” he begins, kissing down your neck. his lips find your collarbones, and stop above the beating of your heart. “when you're at your wedding ceremony?” 

“neji…” your hand strokes over the top of his head. “you know i will.” 

he wastes little time in unbuttoning your shirt, allowing the breeze to blow against your exposed flesh. he pauses for a moment, admiring the way your skin glows underneath moonlight. he discards the shirt to one side, and promptly resumes his kisses in between your breasts, focusing on your sternum while his large hands massage your supple breasts.

you unclasp your bra to reveal the extent of your hardening nipples to neji, who's already sucking them, and rolling circles with his tongue around the circumference of them. neji is full of you: the sound your soft gasps in his ears. you, in his mouth. you, in the palms of his hands as they roam up and down your torso. 

it was always you. it’s just a shame that it can't be. 

open-mouthed kisses travel down your belly, before they turn into light pecks at the waistband of your skirt. you can't help the way your core pulses when neji looks up at you through his eyebrows, almost like a puppy, you think. 

“would you like me to, y/n?” 

you don't need him to complete the sentence in its entirety. you already know what he's looking for. 

“yes, please, neji. i want you.” you plead softly. “please...”

without further delay, neji reaches for the hem of your skirt, easing it down your legs. he swallows at the sight of you, clad in just your panties. he can feel himself growing harder than he already was. 

when you lift your hips, neji wraps his fingers around your panties and drags them down with your assistance. a string of your essence connects your pussy to the fabric of the underwear, making his face grow warm. he feels the same way too, with the pulse of his cock growing faster under his garments.

he returns to the space in between your legs, experimenting with a ghost-like kiss to your swollen clit.

“here?” he breathes.

you nod, “perfect.” 

the kiss earns a gasp from you, but neji has decided that a mere gasp is not enough.

you feel a wet warmth that wraps around the expanse of your clit, taking you in and out with a gentle suction that comes and goes like the ebb and flow of waves on a shore. it’s a sensation that you could never replicate by yourself. your own fingers pale in comparison to neji’s own hunger, as his lips slurp away at your pussy, as if it were a ripe fruit that oozed the sweetest of nectars. he had to have every last drop of you. he had to memorise the way you tasted. he felt as though nothing in this world could take him away from in-between your legs. this would be his first, and his last time consuming you. this meal would have to sustain him for the rest of his life.

it's impossible to articulate how good he's making you feel. he’s easily reduced you to a litany of breathless moans, and desirous requests for more, more, and more. your fingers are embedded within the thick, dark locks of his hair, impossibly tugging him towards a distance that's already been sealed. your toes are curled, and your hips are raised, grinding and crashing against his tongue as it swirls around your clit.

the signs of your impending orgasm begin making themselves evident to neji. that sweet pussy of yours begins to weep more of its juices onto neji’s tongue. he can feel the pulse of it, throbbing intensely against the tip of his tongue in perfect synchrony with your legs buckling in place, and your hips jerking upwards into his mouth. a final whine escapes your lips, and the grip on his hair feels as though you want to dig into his skull.

paradise ends when neji separates his mouth from your core, but it resumes when his eyes meet your own from between your legs, half-lidded and dazed in a haze of pleasure. the gratification he receives from it is bittersweet. neji can live the rest of his life knowing he drove you to such ecstasy, but at the price of never being able to do it again. 

“neji,” your voice is like music to his ears. “i need you tonight.”

neji crawls forwards until his head hovers over yours, returning to the same position you were both in earlier where he was above you, with his forearms framing your face. with a singular hand, his knuckles gently traces the contour of your cheek.

“i’m already here, y/n…”

“you are. but i need to have you closer to me...” 

you never once sever eye contact with him as your palm cups the erection poking against the fabric of his pants. his breath caves in when you feel over his solid length. he can feel himself crumbling in your hands.

it's uncharacteristic of neji to push past his imposed limitations. you were both intentional in your mutual choice to never search beyond one another's clothes—to respect one another's honour, for the first time was a bridge to be crossed with your spouses. but this situation was dire. things were moving quickly in your arrangement; neji felt it, and you felt it doubly. it’s the perfect justification to claim you before anyone else can.

“how much closer?” his breath is warm against your lips.

“inside of me, neji,” both of your lips are barely touching. “i have to feel you.”

your hands move from his bulge, to the waistband of his pants, where your fingers promptly hook themselves around the material and tug downwards. neji lends a spare hand to help you, simultaneously grabbing the waistband of his boxers and freeing his dick with a swift pull. his length stands on end, tip flushed and glossy with pre-cum as it pulses above your pubic mound. 

neji swallows. “we can’t go back after this, y/n.” 

“there’s nowhere else i’d want to go.” your hands wrap around the nape of his neck. “it’ll always be you, neji.”

his forehead connects to yours before he speaks again. “and it will always be you.” he grabs his shaft and rubs his dick between the lips of your pussy, catching your dripping slick and coating his length in it. you can’t help but whimper at the friction against your clit.

“are you ready, y/n?” neji whispers in your ear.

you nod wordlessly, parting your legs wider in preparation.

“if you could use your words, y/n,” he positions his tip at your entrance, teasing it ever so slightly. “i would appreciate that.”

“yes,” you oblige. “i’m ready for this, neji.”

“i’m pleased, y/n,” he presses a gentle kiss against your temple. “stop me at any point.”

inch by inch, the length of his dick gradually begins to occupy the space in your eager, willing pussy. the foreign sensation of your walls stretching makes you suck in air through your teeth. the pressure is yet to feel pleasurable, and your eyes brim slightly with tears. without thinking, your fingers start to dig into the flesh of neji’s nape.

“y/n.” neji calls. “you’re doing well,” he whispers in between gentle shushes. “so well, y/n. just keep looking at me, alright?”

you hold his warm gaze while he continues to sink into you, slowly and with care. he kisses at your swollen lips, feather-light, for every ingressive hiss you make, almost as if he were absorbing your pain and sealing it inside of him. it’s unbelievable how big he feels inside of you, despite the fact that he isn’t completely in. before long, you feel him skin-to-skin, completely bottomed out in your pussy. he moans softly at the feeling. every vein and ridge of his cock is completely sheathed in your inviting warmth, leaving no part of you empty. neji remains still for a moment, just long enough for you to acclimatise to the feeling of him inside you. the tears that were once threatening to spill from your eyes appear to have rescinded, and your grip on neji has become something of a more languorous hold.

“there.” neji purrs in your ear. “i told you you were doing well.” you hum in response, running your hands through his hair. “do you want me to move now?”

“yes, neji,” you breathe hungrily against his lips. “please, do something. anything.”

and he would do anything for you. if he can’t free you from the throes of a future without him, then he’ll at least do you the pleasure leaving the memory of him seared in your mind as he makes you come undone.

neji barely pulls out before pushing inside of you again, testing the ways in which your body relinquishes itself to him. you can feel the resistance of your pussy cease as it stretches and molds to the shape of his dick. for every little thrust he takes in and out of you, he trains your muscles to recognise the sensation of pleasure.

“you… you feel,” neji breathes in between thrusts, “so good. i can’t compare it to anything.” you notice how he blinks slower, as if he’s trying to capture your face in his memory for longer. you mirror his actions, and stare into his being with half-lidded eyes.

your breath mingles with his in the air. “tell me,” your foreheads touch, “tell me how it feels, neji.”

neji pulls out further now, setting up a more leisurely rhythm as he pushes into your pussy with more courage—more vigour. “you feel so warm,” he slams himself down against you. “like you’re sucking me in,” and again. “i can’t believe i’m inside of you.” and again. he steals a kiss from your tender lips with a voracious abandon that makes you moan in his mouth. to him, your tongue tastes so sweet with desire, and yet, so bitter with anticipated grief that has yet to actualise.

when the kiss ends, your lips remain agape, allowing a chain of soft moans to slide into neji’s ears. the tip of his dick finds that distinct, spongy spot in your pussy with a precision that makes pleasure accumulate in your lower belly. it makes you arch your back against him, and writhe beneath his body. neji absolutely relishes in the awareness that it is his actions, and his actions alone, that makes you react in such a way.

“n-neji,” you pant, “oh, fuck-” you pull him closer to your body, leaving your breasts flush against his chest. “you’re making me feel so good,” you start to hook your legs around his waist. “so, so good… i-”

“speak to me, y/n.” he softly pleaded.

“i wish it were you,” you rasp. “every single day, i wish it were you.” neji is practically pounding into you now, filling the air with sounds of skin slapping, and obscene wetness. “neji,” your eyes begin to bubble with tears. “i love you,” you whisper. “i love you so much that it hurts.”

“y/n,” he whispers back against your lips. “i’m sorry,” he never takes his yearning eyes off of yours when his thumb finds your protruding clit, rubbing firm circles around it. “i wish i had all the answers to heal your heart,” he thrusts harder. deeper. “i wish things weren’t the way they were,” his breathing grows more ragged, “i never wanted to let go of you. you are so special.”

you moan at the additional stimulation. “oh, i love you,” you both kiss each other light-headed, with teeth clicking and lips crashing carelessly. “i love you, i love you, i love you.” it’s a mantra from the depths of your heart. you could find love in the future, but it would never ever be as immersive, and as true as this.

“i know,” he exhales gently, dragging out the syllables. “i love you too.”

neji begins to lose the rhythm he established and maintained. he can feel his inevitable release approaching, and he chases it with just a few more thrusts. you aren’t that far behind either, with the feeling of sweet static deep in your womb getting more and more difficult to hold in with each slam of his hips. 

“y/n,” neji hisses. “i’m close…” 

“oh,” you gasp, “me too. fuck, fuck, fuck.” you wrap your legs even tighter around his waist, keeping him locked in place. “please don’t go anywhere…” tears spill from your eyes.

“i won’t.”

with a final groan, neji has buried himself to the hilt of your drooling pussy. your body becomes rigid, and every muscle in your body draws taut as your hole clenches around his throbbing dick.

you’ve soaked his cock with sweet, sticky essence that leaves a ring of cream around the base of his length. at the same time, long ropes of hot cum begin to flood your womb, spewing out with each final twitch of his cock. he continues to move slowly in your heat, until your sore pussy drains him to completion.

neji, still buried inside you, wipes the tears from your eyes. neither of you speak. you simply savour the silence, and allow yourselves to come back to reality after spending what feels like an eternity in sheer bliss. the night air feels like cooling liniment over the blazing heat of your sweat-glazed skin. it feels almost surreal.

both of you stay holding onto each other, as though releasing one another would make dawn arrive faster. moonlight catches onto the dark strands of neji’s hair.

“do you remember the first time we came here?” you gently break the silence.

“i do,” he whispers. “you tripped over a tree root.”

your eyes widen. “i did not.”

neji reaches for a kunai in the holster he haphazardly shoved away after he stripped for you. he throws it at one of the thick roots with such accuracy, that you know can’t be made up. “it was that one over there.”

“fine,” you roll your eyes. “i guess it was.”

neji rapidly exhales, smiling with the utmost softness.

“will you think about me?” you tried to stop the question, but it snuck past you anyway. neji didn’t seem to mind the abruptness of it, though. “i will,” he answers. “whenever i come here… all the time, to be truthful.”

he takes a brief moment to look around the clearing. “the trees. their leaves, their roots,” he looks to the sky, “the moon.” his gaze then returns to you. “you’ve made it considerably impossible not to think of you.”

“but won’t it hurt? thinking of me, when your mind is supposed to be with your betrothed?” the question, as heavy as it is, manages to float in the air for a while.

he finally speaks. “it will hurt. but, i can’t complain. i made my choice the day i let myself love you.”

you both come together, lips meeting for a final kiss. “i wish i could stay.” you whisper against his lips.

neji shuts his eyes against you, and allows a stray tear to fall down his face.

“so do i.”

a/n: i've had this draft since April omg get it away from me bro.....!:!.?: also, thank you for this request nonnie. my first time doing a bit of angst, and my first time writing for Neji! i hope this is how you envisioned it 🪷🪷🪷

But he apparently was, because when you said you didn’t like any of them, he got offended— and offensive.

He nearly threw the coffee in his hand as he spoke to you, “You hate the Green Lantern?”

“Hate is a strong word.”

“You don’t like him?” You shook your head. “Any of them?” You, once again, shook your head. “Why?”

You never thought of this question. Why did you not like them? Maybe because of the time when one of them pressed your car flat… Or maybe because of the time where you almost fell right to the ground while you were inside of a plane?

You just got anxiety when you saw any of them, to be honest. Could be the reason.

“I don’t know, Hal.” You shrugged. “Why is this such an issue?”

“It’s not.” He said, too fast. “Of course it is not.” Hal sipped his coffee and leaned back into the couch, throwing his leg over the other. “Well, I just like them because they save people, you know.”

“That’s great. I appreciate what they do. I just still don’t like them.” You shrugged. With every minute passing, you were going a lot more confused. He was acting stranger than ever. This was unlike him— at least, unlike him as you knew him.

Hal frowned as he thought. You wondered what was going on in there. You were sure his mind was a mess. But you didn’t get why he was so pressed over this because he had so many issues in his life and that was the thing he got upset over? Didn’t feel like him at all.

Or… He was such a secret fan and he had secrets to hide about it. You wondered if he had small posters on his walls and autographs and merch… It felt like he did, somehow.

“Even the tall one?”

“Uhh…” You were confused by his question. Many of them were tall. You weren’t sure which one he was talking about. “Sure, yeah.” Before he could open his mouth one more time, you got up from where you were sitting. “Okay, Hal, that’s enough superhero talk!”

He didn’t seem pleased to end the conversation, but he hadn’t seemed to like the conversation when it was alive either. “I should get going,” He left his coffee on the table and walked right into the front door without even saying a goodbye or anything.

“What— Hal? Where are you going?”

“I remembered I had something to do all of a sudden.” He opened the door but didn’t get out, turned to look at you as he kept the door open. “Thanks for the coffee and lunch! I’ll pay back. I gotta go.”

“You don’t need to—“ He was out and the door was closed after him. “Pay back…”

What the fuck was wrong with him?

You didn’t see Hal for the next day. He texted you, sure, but didn’t come up and do whatever he would normally. Your confession about superheroes disturbed him, that you could infer, but why? That was a mystery. Though, you had some theories. The first one was obviously him being a big fan of their work. You may have never seen him in silly and cheap costumes or anything but still, he could be a big fan without merch. The second one was that he was their secretary or something. And the third one was… Well, it was kind of impossible but maybe he was one of them?

You couldn’t help yourself and snorted at the thought. Hal could be everything, but a superhero? He wasn’t even punctual when it was you and him meeting, how was he going to manage superhero business like that!

While sitting on the couch, you were skipping through channels on TV but your mind was somewhere else. The Green Lanterns. You kept thinking about them and it was Jordan’s fault. Why was he such a creep about these… heroes?

That question swirled around your mind every second.

Hal being a little weird was not something new. He sometimes left you in the middle of coffee dates. Sometimes, he didn’t even show up. But this was something new and sudden.

When you saw a Green Lantern on the new channel you stopped right there and decided to watch. The news was about what happened yesterday night. One Green Lantern was there to save the day and there were so many video clips of him taken by different people.

This was what Hal was so overprotective about?

You didn’t get it!

It wasn’t like you were against them or something. You just… didn’t mind them. Their presence didn’t mean something to you the way it did to other people, including Hal.

The moment you got the remote to change the channel, you heard a loud breaking of glass coming from inside your house. You got up without thinking about anything, your eyes searched for something to protect yourself with, and when they landed on the baseball bat, you grabbed it.

With silent steps, you followed the sounds. You were hearing someone grunting. Someone was inside your house. Your apartment that was stories high from the ground. They broke in and were probably going to kill you and steal everything in your house. The creepy thoughts wandered around your mind, completely clearing the Green Lanterns. Taking a deep breath, you pushed the door with your foot and when it opened you looked inside without entering. You couldn’t see anybody, you were scared and the gruntings were louder than before now.

“Wait,” you heard someone— a man say. He got up from where he was lying and you almost threw your bat at him. “I’m harmless, lady.”

“Green Lantern?” You stepped inside. You couldn’t hide your surprise at your voice.

Did he just break into your house? What was going on?

“Sorry that I, uh, landed inside your house.” His hands were up in the air, as if he was surrendering to the police. “I’ll have it fixed.” He pointed to the broken window.

“You better.” This was so weird. “Are you okay?”

You didn’t know why you asked that but you did it anyway. He seemed like he needed help.

“Yeah, yeah.” He started walking towards you. “Just need to sit for a bit.”

“You can get inside, I guess.” You showed the way to the living room with the bat. He slowly nodded, smiling a little bit. His mask covered half of his face and you couldn’t see his eyes but he gave you the impression that he was just looking for something.

Did he know you were not a fan? How could he even know that you didn’t like him? He could not. He was just there in your house because he fell into it. That was why. No hard explanations or anything. That simple!

“Want some water?” You asked while putting the bat away. He stood in the middle of your living room, not sitting, just standing and looking like a beaten puppy.

“Sure.” He mumbled.

“You can sit.”

When you came back again with a glass full of water, he was perched on your couch. Just sitting. This guy was weird, so so weird but you didn’t mind. Maybe he had a concussion? That was definitely possible.

“Thanks.” He drank the water in one go. As he put the glass to the table, two white lenses were looking at you. “Nice house.” He put forward.

“Thanks.” You smiled weirdly at him. “So, uh, don’t you need to save people or something?”

“Oh, I definitely do. But I got some help, they can handle it while I’m resting here.” He looked at the TV and when he saw himself he grinned. “Oh, that’s me. You are a fan or something?”

Should you be as honest as you were with Hal? You probably shouldn’t.

“Kinda.” You averted your eyes from him. “You can say that.”

He leaned back to the couch. “Really?” You nodded. The grin on his face disturbed you so much that you wanted to punch him. “Want an autograph?”

“No.” You replied too fast.

“You sure? I thought you’d want it. You are watching news about me and all…”

You had to have him stop talking and leave, but didn’t know how. He wouldn’t harm you, sure but still you didn’t want to be too harsh on him.

“I think they might actually need you out there.”

“Right.” He got up. Walking to the window, he looked at you over his shoulder. “See ya, lady.”

And with that he was gone.

“This Green Lantern guy is creepy.” You uttered in a very normal date with Hal. The birds were chirping, the wind was flowing and cars were passing by… Hal was holding your hand as he led you through the street. His other hand was in his pocket. But when he heard your words, Hal stopped in the middle of the street as a reaction. He was frowning. Was he anxious? Worried? You couldn’t tell. But it looked like he wanted you to explain.

You stopped a few steps ahead of him and turned around to face Hal. None of you said anything. The street was not that crowded, so nobody could disturb you— or you couldn’t disturb anyone.

“What do you mean?” Hal said finally.

You shrugged. “I mean… Weird? He came to my house yesterday.” You tested the waters, his reaction. “More like he was thrown into my house. What a coincidence, right?”

“Did he… do something?”

His voice had suspicion in its essence. You huffed as you turned around and kept walking. Your heels beat the ground, marking your anger at him. He was not asking the question you wanted him to ask.

He could ask why he was there or… You weren’t even sure! But that was not what you wanted to hear… Not exactly.

“Hey!” He followed you. He was taller than you, his tall legs would catch up to you easily— and that he did. Grabbing your arm, he stopped you and pulled you to a more calm place: Between the walls of two apartments. “I’m serious, what happened? You think I led him to your house?”

“No!” Maybe… You could never be completely sure or convinced at this point. “No, it’s not that… Hal, I was just, I don’t know, freaked out.” His grip on your arm fell down. You felt the emptiness of his hand. It felt colder. “I mean he was harmless. And now I have a window to get fixed.”

“Fuck, I never thought of that.” He mumbled.

“What?”

“You are staying with a broken window. That’s dangerous and—“

“I’ll have it fixed today, it’s not a problem. The problem is… Hal, the Green Lantern was at my home!”

“That’s a problem?”

You wanted to slap him. Why was he being like this? Something was wrong with him since that chat about Green Lanterns with you.

“No, Hal. Or maybe, yes. He isn’t supposed to be there. He even offered to give me an autograph, thinking I was a fan of his.”

Hal seemed relieved. He licked his lips and slowly nodded, deciding what to finally say. “I’m glad you were safe. And I’m sorry for your window.”

“It wasn’t even your fault.”

“I know, I know… I’m just sorry.” He threw his arm around your shoulders and pulled you closer. “Let’s go, dinner’s on me.”

You didn’t say anything after that.

He squirms, trying to get rid of your grip, but you shove him face down onto the bed, his bunny tail twitches wildly as you rip those shorts down, exposing his already slick hole. 

“I’m not letting you fuck me!” he shouts, trying to move his head, but you keep him in place. “C’mon! Let me top you!”

You try not to laugh, your cute bunny hybrid wants to top you, is that what this whole attitude is about? You take a look at his asshole. Fuck, he’s so wet for it, dripping down his thighs. 

“Mm, Dio, you’re too wet and needy to top someone, don’t you think?” Your free hand drifts lower, kneading one of his asscheeks and circling his tight hole with your finger, without pushing yet. Dio whimpers immediately, trying to hide his face in the sheets but you grab his floppy ear and tug it. 

“No hiding, bunny. You wanted my attention so bad? Now you’re gonna take it how I give it.”

You spread both of his cheeks now, positioning yourself behind him fully, you circle him again, slow as hell and he’s already pushing back. Smack! You hit his ass to leave a red mark. “Stay still, Dio.”

You push one finger in real gradual, feeling his walls clench hot and silky around it. Dio moans loud, high and needy, his cock twitching underneath him and leaking all over the bed.

“M-More... please,” he whines, but you just chuckle and keep it torturously slow, pumping in and out so he feels every inch dragging against his sensitive spots. Your finger curls just right, pressing against that prostate until his legs shake and his bunny ears pin flat against his head.

“Shut up and suffer like the brat you are,” you tell him, adding a second finger after what feels like forever. You scissor them open lazy and deep, stretching him nice and filthy while he pants and drools into the sheets. “Two weeks without sex and you’re already falling apart. Such a desperate bunny slut. Bet you’d let anyone finger you like this if I wasn’t around, huh?”

“No! O-only you... fuck mmph, please go faster,” Dio begs, voice cracking into these broken little sobs. His hips try to fuck back but you hold him down, making him take every slow thrust. His tail is quivering, fluffy and cute against your wrist while his insides pulse hot around your fingers. You twist them just so, rubbing his prostate over and over until he’s a whining, desperate mess, tears pricking his eyes and his cock dripping nonstop.

“That’s it, bunny, cry all you want, I’m gonna keep you like this till you beg properly,” you murmur, leaning down to bite at his neck. 

Dio’s ears twitch hard and he lets out the sluttiest moan yet, completely broken and at your mercy.

Tim’s hair was longer now, falling into his eyes in wild strands that made him look softer — distracting enough to overshadow a dark bruise fading at the curve of his jaw, if the fact that he was shirtless hadn’t made you dizzy enough to almost not scold him.

“I’m not backseat building,” he protested, all feigned innocence, even as he reached past you to gently adjust the tension on the cable with two careful fingers. “I’m… offering emotional support. From a very horizontal-adjacent position.”

You flattened the cable in place just as his other hand reached over to try and steal the flush cutters you were working with.

“Down, boy.” You smacked his wrist and he whined, immediately dropping the tool into your awaiting palm. “This is my work station, by the way — if you haven’t realized — and I don’t want your grimey hands all over it.”

“Thought you liked my grimey hands.” He leaned over to kiss the side of your face, then your cheek, and another one right below your ear. The slight wince from the pull of his sore ribs was obvious, accompanied by the nasty bruise still on display exactly where you left it, like a painful kiss at the curve of his ribcage.

“You don’t love me anymore? Is that it?” Tim complained.

You did. Even with the bruises. Especially with the bruises, because they were proof he was home and safe enough to be annoying.

“Do not even think of sitting down, you need to get back to bed.”

On the TV, Sailor Moon struck another dramatic pose and the music swelled to a crescendo as Tim pretended he didn’t hear you at all.

“I came to watch Yu-Gi-Oh actually,” he hummed matter-of-factly while he sprawled out on the massive sectional, stretching his legs out and draping himself against your side. “Not to see you. Or the Sailor.”

You laughed, tangling one of your legs with his. “What is your deal with Sailor Moon?”

Tim’s hand lazily found your thigh, squeezing gently as he shifted closer, peeking over your shoulder. “I don’t have a deal,” he mumbled. “I just think it’s unrealistic that the bad guys wait for her to transform before the actual fight happens.”

“Right… Because Yu-Gi-Oh is so realistic.”

“Well. If you’re asking—” He stretched one long arm toward the coffee table without untangling his legs from yours, grunting at the flex of his aching muscles. “An argument can be made about its applications to any kind of strategy based initia—

“Again, I don’t recall this being a collaborative effort.” You swatted his arm away. “Shoo.”

Tim made a pathetic little sound and snaked his arms around you again, only tighter, before his hands eventually settled on your hips and pulled you closer, just until your back was flush against his chest.

“You should be recovering,” you continued. “R and R remember? Rest and relaxation—” You shifted so you could face him better, easing yourself up onto his lap gently at first, waiting for him to give you the full go ahead.

“I am recovering,” he mumbled, lips brushing your jaw. He didn’t wait another second before pulling you down onto him, stretching his legs out on either side of you with a sigh. “This is like homeopathic medicine. Skin-to-skin contact, all that stuff. Very healing.”

You shook your head, a hand reaching behind you blindly to push the hair back from his face, your fingertips brushing the faint scar near his hairline before sliding between the strands to scratch lightly at his scalp.

“You are the worst patient on the planet.”

“And you…” he whispered, pressing a slow kiss to the curve of your neck. “Are sooo pretty…” Then another. “When you’re concentrating.” And another, working his way up until he could nuzzle right behind your ear. “It’s distracting me from how much everything hurts.”

You melted despite yourself, tilting your head to give him better access. “Manipulation tactics. I see you, Drake.”

“Are they working?” He whispered. Your stomach did a flip.

“Unfortunately.”

You could feel him grinning against your skin. “Still got it.”

One of his hands wandered down to your thigh again, just to rest there, while the other slipped down to where you held the flesh cutters in your palm against a cable. This time, you let him intervene — his longer fingers sliding between yours to grip the tool a little tighter.

“Don’t backseat me,” you warned, as he guided your hand in the opposite direction you would’ve gone. “I’m serious.”

“I won’t,” he said. “Scout’s honor.”

And he kept to his promise for a little less than two minutes.

Tim’s lips puckered against the skin where your neck and shoulder met, trailing up the line of your neck until he reached the curve of your jaw, burying his face there with the tiniest kisses.

“Maybe,” he whispered. “And this is just a suggestion,” he continued, voice low. “Let’s... not use PiSugar for power supply…”

“Oh my God, you promised.” You groaned, but there was no real heat in it. His lips were too warm against your skin, his hair tickling you softly as he nuzzled closer and closer.

“I’m not helping,” he murmured with faux innocence, voice still raspy from sleep and the remnants of last night’s patrol that he was rightfully benched from midway. “Just… offering constructive criticism. From a very restful position. And I think that this… this just isn’t it, babe.”

Tim paused to shake the flush cutters from your palm, instead forcing you to pick up the little, black rectangular power cell.

You slapped his wrist in protest and he blew a raspberry against your cheek — so sloppy and wet it made you recoil with disgust and a squealed ‘Ew, you fucking creep—!’

He tossed the PiSugar cell out of the DS’ hollowed shell and toward the pile of unused tools with a victorious smirk.

“Muuuch better,” he said. “Why are we using PiSugar anyway? I’m kinda offended…”

You twisted in his lap just enough to shoot him a look as you rubbed the wetness from your cheek. “It’s cheap and it works. And I would prefer not throwing money at an overpriced battery solution, Tim.”

He made a scandalized little noise, arms tightening around your waist as he pulled you flush against his bare chest. “Now, with all due respect—”

Tim stopped himself when you glared at him hotly.

“Babe. Darling. Smartest girl in the whole wide world—” He continued. “You did not see me use PiSugar or some cheap ass LiPo pack when I made your first cyberdeck. I am disappointed.”

“Jeez, sorry Dad.” You snorted, leaning back into him despite yourself and he hugged you close. “Maybe I just didn’t wanna outsource a battery fit for a supercomputer… It’s not like I’m catching criminals as a hobby.”

“Dad?” Tim laughed softly, the sound rumbling through his chest and against your skin. “Low blow. And no— it’s reasonable and it works better. Geekworm is the go-to, baby. I’m ordering one later.”

“No,” you objected immediately, easing up and reaching for the discarded PiSugar just to make a point. “That is exactly what we’re not gonna do. It’s like fifty bucks, Tim.”

“More like eighty with shipping,” he corrected, completely unbothered, as he hooked his chin over your shoulder again, pulling you back into him. “But I’ll have it here by tomorrow if I—”

“We are not dropping eighty dollars for a battery, you capitalist freak. The PiSugar is fine.” You elbowed him lightly as you tried to squirm free from his grip. “And seriously, go away— I have to finish this—”

He made an exasperated sound, somewhere between a whine of protest and a sigh, then pressed another warm kiss just below your ear. “But I’m bored. And you’re so... so hot when you’re all focused…” Another kiss to the back of your neck, then another, and back up again to press one more against your cheek. “Let me help.”

“Leslie said intensive bed rest. And no activities that require more than ten minutes worth of focus,” you reminded him, trying — and failing — to focus as you reached down to thread another ribbon cable.

“Oh yeah?” Tim’s palms slipped under the hem of your shirt and idled over your stomach, squeezing gently, while his fingers traced silken patterns that made it very hard to keep your hands steady. “Nothing at all?” Your entire body felt hot as he whispered in your ear.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, perv. It’s not happening,” you laughed. “Wouldn’t want you to get a Charlie Horse and die.”

“Okay, mood obliterated.” He deflated. “Even doctors overreact sometimes. I am fine.”

“You came home looking like you lost a fight with a tank. Again.” You looked at him over your shoulder. “And you told Lonnie I was beating you at home, when you know damn well—”

“Firstly, that was a joke made in good faith that is much closer to the truth than you like to admit—”

“—I will ignore that because I refuse to give into the stereotype of punching you in the mouth.”

Tim continued, teeth grazing your shoulder. “Second, it was the line that failed me,” he corrected, lips brushing your jaw. “And I won—”

“You got punched into another building. Then fell from the highest floor of said building while trying to zipline your way back down.”

“Semantics.” Tim shrugged. “Your boy’s always a winner, baby.” Another kiss, this one so much sweeter, your face felt hot. “C’mon…. Let me help. Just the cable management. I’m excellent at cable management. World-class, even.”

You turned your head just enough to glare at him again.

His eyes were soft and heavy-lidded, his tousled hair falling into them, and that faint bruise along his jaw making him look unfairly pathetic, in an endearing way.

“Terrible at staying put, is what you are.”

“Please? I’ll be good.” Tim blinked slowly. “Scout’s honor? Again?”

“You were never a scout,” you laughed, your prior defenses now rendered null and void. “Like, ever.”

“Have pity on me,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “I’m hurting all over, you know?”

You frowned. “I’m being manipulated again, I think.”

Then another kiss, slower, coaxing. “Make me all better?” He pouted. “Please, sweetheart?”

“Tim—”

His lips met yours softly, and you instinctively turned to him for more, the kiss lazy and slow but full of heat. You could feel him smile against your mouth before he pulled away, forcing that same pout to keep his grin at bay.

Then you sighed dramatically and handed him the flush cutters. “Okay, fine, whatever. Cable management only. But if you even think about ordering that Geekworm before we finish this section, you’re sleeping alone.”

He gasped dramatically. “You wouldn’t.”

“Try me, rich boy.”

“I’d like to.” Tim’s grin was immediate and devastating and you audibly boo’d him as he shifted you both slightly so you were still mostly in his lap but could both reach the coffee table easier. His longer hair kept falling forward as he leaned in, and you couldn’t resist reaching up to tuck it behind his ear.

For the next hour you worked like that—tangled together, half-lazy, trading slow kisses between crimping cables and snapping accessories shut.

His arms framed you on either side, one hand steadying the DS shell while the other passed you tools or held wires in place and every time he leaned forward, his bare chest pressed warm against your back, chin hooked over your shoulder so you were cheek-to-cheek, breathing the same air.

Whenever he reached too far and the ache in his ribs made him wince, you’d scold him gently and kiss the fading bruise on his jaw like it would help heal the rest of him. He’d just smile that small, deafeningly self-satisfied smile and pull you back in.

At one point Tim paused, peering at the exposed internals. “Hey, want an LED status light right here?” He tapped a spot near the hinge with one long finger. “Just a little power indicator. Would look sick when it’s closed.”

You hesitated, then shook your head. “Nah, it’s fine without.”

He gave you a long, knowing look, the corner of his mouth slightly curving upwards. “Uh-huh.”

Two minutes later he was carefully soldering a tiny LED in place anyway, one arm still looped around your waist to keep you steady against him while his other hand worked with that effortless precision you fell for.

“Tim...”

“Relax. I’ve got a steady hand.” He whispered, teasing. “And I know you want the blinky light, even if you’re scared of the iron.”

“I am not scared of soldering,” you lied, cheeks warming as you watched the focused pinch of his brows. The faint smell of solder mixed with the earthy petrichor drifting through one of the cracked windows, and the faintest ray of morning sunshine struggled against the rainclouds.

“Mhm. But you want the blinky light,” he murmured, blowing gently on the fresh solder joint. “I’ve got you mapped.”

“You’re the worst,” you whispered, but you were smiling as you turned your head to press a kiss to his temple. “Fucking show-off.”

“Your show-off,” Tim corrected happily, a dopey grin on his face. “And you’ll thank me when it looks sick as hell at night.”

The cyberdeck build came together slowly but surely after that with your vision and his refinements until it eventually started to look less of a disassembled mess and more like something usable.

The rain kept falling in steady sheets outside as the final Sailor Moon episode on the television faded into the opening chords of Yu-Gi-Oh.

Tim perked up slightly at the familiar theme, unable to hide the excited childlike quirk in his brows, but his movements were growing slower and heavier as the work became more about holding you than building— the little kisses pressed to your shoulder, the pads of his fingertips thrumming against the warmth of your stomach, the feel of his unclothed heartbeat against your spine took up more and more of your attention.

Between the distant sound of Yu-Gi-Oh and the occasional soft click of tools, Tim’s breathing also changed behind you, his body hunching forward against your back in a drowsy fold.

“You falling asleep on me already?” you whispered, amused.

“Halfway there,” he admitted, voice slurred and muffled against the nape of your neck. “...‘S your fault,” you felt him smile a little, nuzzling deeper into your skin, or trying to. “You’re warm and you smell like my shampoo… and you’re doing tech things…. You’re so beautiful.”

You sat the tiny keyboard down carefully and twisted in his lap to face him properly, straddling his thighs. His eyes were half-lidded, his eyelashes fluttering gently with that unguarded softness he only ever showed when he was here and all yours.

“Poor baby,” you cooed, brushing the hair back from his forehead, fingers trailing over his hairline. “Got beat up by bad guys on national television.”

“It was a local broadcast, please.” Tim deadpanned, tilting his head to catch your fingers with a lazy kiss. “And you’re supposed to be nice to me…” his teeth grazed the tips of your fingers.

“You’re spoiled, you’ll live.” You leaned in and kissed him, tasting the faint mint from his toothpaste and all those assorted flavors of him needing you. He sighed into it, one hand sliding up your back under your shirt, a warm palm splayed across your skin.

“Take me down a peg,” Tim hummed lazily, pressing another lazy kiss to your mouth. “I like that.”

“Pervert.”

Still, you kissed him again as the rain kept pouring and Yu-Gi-Oh dueled in the background. When you pulled back, his eyes were brighter despite the exhaustion and he pressed his forehead against yours with a long sigh.

“Does it hurt bad?” You asked, carefully trying to shift your body over his lap to ease the weight on him. You could feel the faint twitch of muscles every time you moved, but he never complained.

“Stay,” he whispered as his arms tightened around your waist, pulling you closer against his chest while the half-finished cyberdeck was forgotten on the coffee table next to you. “Hurts less when you’re right here.”

You hesitated, hovering just a little. “Tim… your ribs—”

“Are fine,” he murmured, already tugging you down with gentle insistence. “C’mere. I want you on top of me. Proper R and R.”

You let out a soft laugh but gave in, carefully lowering your full weight until your chest pressed against his and you were nearly melded to him. You stayed tense for a second, hyperaware of every bruise while Tim just hummed contentedly, one hand stroking slowly up and down your spine.

“See?” he whispered against your hair. “Perfect. You feel good like this.”

You relaxed bit by bit, melting into the steady rhythm of his breathing and the warmth of his bare skin as the rain drummed steadily against the windows and the low sounds of card duels came from the TV.

“Can you sleep like this?” you asked after a while, pressing a kiss between his brows as his eyelids fluttered closed. Tim murmured an ‘mhm’ and hugged you closer, his head leaned back against the cushioned sectional. “Don’t drool on me though,” you said, burying your face in the side of his neck.

“I do not drool.”

“And I’m Batman.”

Tim snorted, his nostrils flaring from amusement and you kissed his jaw.

After a quiet minute, his voice came out soft and drowsy. “We should make one like the Millennium Puzzle.”

You smiled against his collarbone, tracing patterns on his chest with your fingertip. “You seriously have a problem.”

“Hm, you’ll see my vision soon,” he said, voice low and warm. “Tell me your ideas instead. For the rest of this one, I mean. The layout, the interface, all of it. I wanna hear.”

You shifted a little lower so your chin rested on his sternum, careful not to press on the worst of the bruises.

“Okay… I was thinking the top half could have some custom acrylic designs maybe? I wanna see what I can do with that 3D printer you spent a million bucks on— I can give it a mini computer look… but I like the sort of Y2K gaming console turned high tech spyware concept in my head… if that makes sense, I don’t know—”

Tim’s hand kept stroking your back in slow, lazy circles, his breathing growing softer beneath you. “Mmm… keep going,” he mumbled, eyes already drifting shut. “What about the interface?”

You kept talking softly, describing the power cell you secretly did want just to run a bunch of gaming applications, the messaging interface you wanted to design just to sync with his cyberdeck, how you pictured the whole thing looking and operating like pure magic.

“—and that’s where the Raspberry Pi is gonna go…”

Tim’s responses got quieter, made up of little hums and half-formed words. “...Raspberry Pi.”

“…and maybe a small speaker for gaming effects, we can run an emulator for Yoshi’s Island,” you continued, grinning to yourself. “And Final Fantasy.”

You waited for his usual chuckle followed by some cheeky remark about the longstanding rivalry you two had in all things Final Fantasy concerned. But all you heard were the same slow, even breaths.

“Tim? You still with me?”

No answer. All you could feel was the steady rise and fall of his chest under yours and his arms still loosely wrapped around you like he’d fallen asleep mid-caress.

You lifted your head to get a good look at him, and his face was completely relaxed now, lips slightly parted and messy dark hair splayed across the cushiony sectional in fluffy tufts.

“Tim…” you called out to him in a whisper, but he didn’t shift. “Paging geektopia,” you giggled, nuzzling your nose against his cheek.

He twitched softly in his sleep, fingers tightening around your waist. “M’ awake…” he inhaled deeply through his nostrils, squirming tighter against you. “I’m listenin’.”

You let out a quiet, fond laugh and pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Sure you are,” you whispered, nuzzling closer.

“Sure I am.” He repeated, grinning with his eyes closed. “Just resting my eyes, sweetheart,” his fingers danced in shapes over the skin of your waist — crooked little circles, lopsided hearts, the occasional RR symbol like he couldn’t help himself.

You stayed draped over him, your weight like a warm blanket that he refused to let shift even an inch.

The rain had softened into a gentle drizzle against the windows, and the Yu-Gi-Oh soundtrack played like a lullaby in the background. Every so often Tim’s fingers would still as sleep coaxed him away, then start up again, chasing the feeling of your skin as if touching you was the gravity holding him here.

“You’re gonna build the Millennium Puzzle cyberdeck with me, right?” he mumbled after a long, quiet minute, voice thick and barely there. “We should… date night… gonna be so cool…”

“Yeah, baby,” you murmured, brushing his hair back again. “We’ll build it together.”

Tim made a soft, contented hum, the sound vibrating against your chest as he murmured to himself. “So many Raspberry Pi’s….”

You chuckled.

Then his arms tightened once more, pulling you impossibly closer. “Don’t go anywhere.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” you promised softly, pressing one last kiss to his bruised jaw. “Sleep, baby. I’ve got you.”

When you pulled back, Tim was smiling that small, lovedrunk smile, straining his eyes open a tiny fraction. “Love you, you know that?”

“Yeah, I know….” You let your head settle against his chest. “I know…”

His breathing evened out for good after that, deep and slow as his eyelids fell closed, the faint lines of unspoken pain smoothing from his face.

You watched him for a while, peering up through your lashes at the way his jaw relaxed, the flutter of those soft eyelashes against his cheekbones, and that tiny twitch of his mouth like he was still half-dreaming about his own Millenium Puzzle like a little boy on a lazy Saturday morning.

Outside, the rain kept falling while Yu-Gi-Oh played on low and your boyfriend — your stubborn, bruised, brilliant, and finally resting boyfriend — dozed in your arms.

You stayed right there on top of him, listening to the sound of his heartbeat against your ear drowning out everything else, perfectly content to let him sleep as long as he needed.

Within the tangled warmth of your limbs and his, you whispered, “I love you too,” and the rest of Gotham remained blurred away outside the glass as sleep took you too.

“Don’t start.” You huffed, burying your face in the pillow briefly as you grumbled. “It’s been a week and nine days. You know how much I hate sleeping without you.”

There was a beat of silence. Then Oracle slipped away and it was just Babs, warm and velvety like home. “I keep reaching over for you at night,” she whispered. “Keep thinking about you. The way you kiss me… how your eyes get so teary when you need me.”

You bit your lip as it trembled. “Barbie… I’m aching for you.”

“Tell me where it hurts, sweetheart.”

You shivered. “Between my legs. I’ve been wet since I heard your voice.”

“Mmm. My poor girl. All worked up and no one there to take care of you.” Her tone shifted into that perfect commanding lilt she used when she was running point. “Tell me what you’d do if I were there right now.”

You shifted on the bed, already feeling warm under her imagined gaze. The ache in your abdomen grew hotter by the second, and you squeezed your eyes shut, recalling every curve and contour of her body as if she was right next to you.

“You’re so beautiful,” You breathed, a hand sliding down your stomach and under the waistband of your sleepwear. “I’d pull you on my lap… push those pretty panties down your thighs, and feel how wet you already are for me.” A palm hovered over your clothed cunt. “Are you wet, baby?

“I’m fucking soaked.” She exhaled slowly. “Been like this since you said you missed me the first time.”

“What are you wearing?”

Barbara stifled a giggle at the cliche, but it broke through and you scoffed in her ear. “Oh, fuck you, I’m working with what I have,” you complained. “Tell me, I wanna know.”

The smile remained in her voice, light and teasing. “That Gotham U hoodie you left here a while back.”

“Is your hair down?”

“Perv,” she huffed. “Yes. And no, I’m not wearing panties, I took them off. The glasses too.”

You let out a shaky breath, fingers finally pressing down over your clit through the thin fabric of your panties. The relief was immediate but nowhere near enough. “Fuck, Babs… you’re killing me.”

Barbara hummed approvingly. “Good girl. Spread your legs wider for me. I want you to talk to me, okay?”

You obeyed, thighs falling apart. The cool air hit your soaked cunt and you whimpered, you folds weeping as you rucked your panties down to your ankles.

“Touch your clit, baby. Slow circles. Just like I do with my tongue when I’m teasing you.”

Your fingers slid down, slick and eager. The first gentle rub made you moan her name. “Shit— Barbie…”

“I know, baby. I can hear how wet you are.” Her voice dropped lower. “I’m touching myself too. Grinding my clit into my hand thinking about that pretty pussy. You always get so desperate when you’re away from me.”

One finger on your clit turned into your index and middle, rolling the sensitive bud in figure-eights then pinching it softly between the knuckles. “So good, baby, missing your cute little tits right now… so fucking soft…”

You trembled from the memories of your time together. Barbara beneath you, her pretty tits bouncing as you suckled a sensitive nipple into your mouth.

“I miss you so much,” she rasped, the faint wet sounds of her touching herself came from the other end of the line. “I’m so fucking wet thinking about you. My good girl, touching herself for me miles away. Such a needy slut for Oracle’s voice, aren’t you?”

You whimpered, rubbing tighter circles as your other hand slid up to squeeze one of your breasts as if it was hers. Your hips bucked forward to chase the stimulation.

Barbara’s breathing was getting heavier. “Let me fuck you, puppy. Come on, two fingers inside — stretch that little pussy like I trained you.”

You obeyed instantly, sliding two fingers into your dripping cunt with a wet sound that made Barbara groan softly in approval.

“That’s it… juuust like that,” she praised, her voice husky. “Curl them up, baby. Feel that spot? Right where you need me?”

A broken moan tore from your throat, tears leaking from your eyes as you followed her instructions, pumping slowly at first, then faster, the heel of your palm grinding against your swollen clit. “Babs—fuck, it feels so good… but it’s not enough. I need you.”

“I know, puppy.” Her breathing was ragged now, the faint rhythmic sounds of her fingers moving between her own legs filtering through the comm. “I wish I could be there to see you... Fuck yourself harder for me. I want to hear it. Let me hear how sloppy that pretty pussy gets from my voice.”

You cried, pumping your fingers faster, the obscene wet sounds filling the quiet safehouse as your other hand left your breast to grip the sheets, knuckles turning white. “Barbie… fuck, baby… wanna fuck you so bad— tell me you want it, tell me you want me inside you. Please, please…”

A low, pleased growl came through the comm. “I miss the way you fill me up— hah—! fuck, when you make me ride you til my thighs shake… wish I could bounce my pussy all over yours baby… need you to fuck me like that again.”

That needy, desperate switch in her tone that was almost begging, sent a fresh rush of heat through you. “There’s my girl,” you sighed in ecstasy. “Just needed to turn your fucking brain off for me…”

“Yes—fuck, yes,” she gasped. Her voice cracked beautifully, the wet sounds from her end growing louder and faster. “I need you, I need you so fucking bad, baby.”

You curled your fingers harder, thrusting deep as you took control. “Yeah? You want my cock stretching you open? Fucking up into that cute little cunt?”

“I’d be so good for you… riding you just how you like. Fuck, I miss you using me. Please, baby—fuck me...”

“Atta girl, Barbie….” You added a third finger with a moan, the stretch burning so perfectly. “Fuckin brat, you had your fun.”

Barbara whimpered at your tone.

“I know what you need.” You moaned. “Do it harder. Play with your clit for me.... Rub it fast while you finger that pretty cunt. I want you to imagine my cock buried inside you, pounding you deep while I hold your hips down.”

A high, broken sound escaped her lips, echoing in the tower’s halls that made your own pussy clench around your fingers.

“I’m—hah—I’m doing it. Feels so good… I’m so close already. You always make me lose it when you get like this.”

You fucked yourself harder, hips bucking off the bed as you withdrew your fingers and focused on your clit, chasing that edge right alongside her.

A sharp cry cut through the comm, followed by a string of breathy curses. “Baby—! I’m gonna cum—fuck, I’m gonna cum so hard—”

“Not yet,” you whined, even as your own breathing grew ragged. Then, softer, almost pleading, the plea in your tone clear. “Wait for me, baby. I wanna cum with you— I’m almost there, just hold on—”

The sloppy wet sounds of your arousal splashing and making mess from how rough you were made Barbara’s his shake with need. “You’re so good— so fucking good. Fuck yourself like that. Harder, baby— cum for me, cum all over my pussy.”

You shrieked, grinding faster, your poor clit throbbing from the overstimulation. “Babs—Barbie— fuck, I need you—”

“I’m yours,” she gasped, fingers pumping faster, each squelching sound making your eyes roll. “I’m yours— only yours—”

That raw, possessive edge in her voice mixed with total surrender sent you spiraling as you ground your palm against your swollen clit, thighs shaking violently as your climax began to crash through you. “Fuck—! Oh god, I’m gonna cum— cum for me, Barbie—”

Her orgasm hit her hard as you cried out her name, thighs shaking while she clenched around her fingers, hips jerking and voice hoarse with a low, throaty moan. Her head tipped back as she rode her own hand through it.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” You moaned her name like a prayer, your pussy pulsing hard around your fingers as slick heat spilled down your thighs and onto the sheets, making a mess. “Jesus Christ— I’m shaking—”

“Ride it out, baby,” Barbara cooed, lightheaded and glowing.

For a long minute afterwards, the only sounds were your shared, ragged breathing and the faint city traffic outside.

Finally, she let out a soft, wrecked little laugh in your ear, the soft thump of her forehead hitting the keyboard making you smile. “Holy shit… I think I saw stars.”

You smiled, slowly pulling your hand away with a shiver, your body still tingling. “Mmm. Same. You sound so fucking pretty when you cum for me.”

“And you sound even prettier when you’re bossing me around,” she teased, voice warm and sated, full of affection. “Since when are you so mean to me?”

You chuckled, chest heaving. “Gotta keep you on your toes, Oracle. Can’t let you stay in control all the time.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” She hummed happily, a faint wet pop sound on the other end. “I like it when you take care of me.”

The silence between you two settled with the warmth of the afterglow.

“You okay over there?” You eventually murmured, and she murmured an ‘mhm’ back to you.

“You should go clean up and get some actual sleep.” Barbara said, soft but firm. “You’ve got watch later.”

“Back to business even after you just came your brains out,” you murmured fondly. “How romantic”

“You love it.”

“I do. I really do.” You paused, heart full. You paused for a moment, then sighed. “I love you, Barbie. Miss you like crazy.”

“I love you more,” she whispered, soft and sincere. “Just hurry home to me, okay? Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“...Right,” you laughed. “I’ll behave.”

The silence settled again, and neither of you spoke between the sounds of heavy breathing.

As the line remained open and the minutes passed, Barbara’s breath soon turned even and slow, her comforting presence in your ear taking you under as exhaustion finally settled over you like a warm blanket.

“...I’ll come home to you,” you whispered.

“Don’t start.” You huffed, burying your face in the pillow briefly as you grumbled. “It’s been a week and nine days. You know how much I hate sleeping without you.”

There was a beat of silence. Then Oracle slipped away and it was just Babs, warm and velvety like home. “I keep reaching over for you at night,” she whispered. “Keep thinking about you. The way you kiss me… how your eyes get so teary when you need me.”

You bit your lip as it trembled. “Barbie… I’m aching for you.”

“Tell me where it hurts, sweetheart.”

You shivered. “Between my legs. I’ve been wet since I heard your voice.”

“Mmm. My poor girl. All worked up and no one there to take care of you.” Her tone shifted into that perfect commanding lilt she used when she was running point. “Tell me what you’d do if I were there right now.”

You shifted on the bed, already feeling warm under her imagined gaze. The ache in your abdomen grew hotter by the second, and you squeezed your eyes shut, recalling every curve and contour of her body as if she was right next to you.

“You’re so beautiful,” You breathed, a hand sliding down your stomach and under the waistband of your sleepwear. “I’d pull you on my lap… push those pretty panties down your thighs, and feel how wet you already are for me.” A palm hovered over your clothed cunt. “Are you wet, baby?

“I’m fucking soaked.” She exhaled slowly. “Been like this since you said you missed me the first time.”

“What are you wearing?”

Barbara stifled a giggle at the cliche, but it broke through and you scoffed in her ear. “Oh, fuck you, I’m working with what I have,” you complained. “Tell me, I wanna know.”

The smile remained in her voice, light and teasing. “That Gotham U hoodie you left here a while back.”

“Is your hair down?”

“Perv,” she huffed. “Yes. And no, I’m not wearing panties, I took them off. The glasses too.”

You let out a shaky breath, fingers finally pressing down over your clit through the thin fabric of your panties. The relief was immediate but nowhere near enough. “Fuck, Babs… you’re killing me.”

Barbara hummed approvingly. “Good girl. Spread your legs wider for me. I want you to talk to me, okay?”

You obeyed, thighs falling apart. The cool air hit your soaked cunt and you whimpered, you folds weeping as you rucked your panties down to your ankles.

“Touch your clit, baby. Slow circles. Just like I do with my tongue when I’m teasing you.”

Your fingers slid down, slick and eager. The first gentle rub made you moan her name. “Shit— Barbie…”

“I know, baby. I can hear how wet you are.” Her voice dropped lower. “I’m touching myself too. Grinding my clit into my hand thinking about that pretty pussy. You always get so desperate when you’re away from me.”

One finger on your clit turned into your index and middle, rolling the sensitive bud in figure-eights then pinching it softly between the knuckles. “So good, baby, missing your cute little tits right now… so fucking soft…”

You trembled from the memories of your time together. Barbara beneath you, her pretty tits bouncing as you suckled a sensitive nipple into your mouth.

“I miss you so much,” she rasped, the faint wet sounds of her touching herself came from the other end of the line. “I’m so fucking wet thinking about you. My good girl, touching herself for me miles away. Such a needy slut for Oracle’s voice, aren’t you?”

You whimpered, rubbing tighter circles as your other hand slid up to squeeze one of your breasts as if it was hers. Your hips bucked forward to chase the stimulation.

Barbara’s breathing was getting heavier. “Let me fuck you, puppy. Come on, two fingers inside — stretch that little pussy like I trained you.”

You obeyed instantly, sliding two fingers into your dripping cunt with a wet sound that made Barbara groan softly in approval.

“That’s it… juuust like that,” she praised, her voice husky. “Curl them up, baby. Feel that spot? Right where you need me?”

A broken moan tore from your throat, tears leaking from your eyes as you followed her instructions, pumping slowly at first, then faster, the heel of your palm grinding against your swollen clit. “Babs—fuck, it feels so good… but it’s not enough. I need you.”

“I know, puppy.” Her breathing was ragged now, the faint rhythmic sounds of her fingers moving between her own legs filtering through the comm. “I wish I could be there to see you... Fuck yourself harder for me. I want to hear it. Let me hear how sloppy that pretty pussy gets from my voice.”

You cried, pumping your fingers faster, the obscene wet sounds filling the quiet safehouse as your other hand left your breast to grip the sheets, knuckles turning white. “Barbie… fuck, baby… wanna fuck you so bad— tell me you want it, tell me you want me inside you. Please, please…”

A low, pleased growl came through the comm. “I miss the way you fill me up— hah—! fuck, when you make me ride you til my thighs shake… wish I could bounce my pussy all over yours baby… need you to fuck me like that again.”

That needy, desperate switch in her tone that was almost begging, sent a fresh rush of heat through you. “There’s my girl,” you sighed in ecstasy. “Just needed to turn your fucking brain off for me…”

“Yes—fuck, yes,” she gasped. Her voice cracked beautifully, the wet sounds from her end growing louder and faster. “I need you, I need you so fucking bad, baby.”

You curled your fingers harder, thrusting deep as you took control. “Yeah? You want my cock stretching you open? Fucking up into that cute little cunt?”

“I’d be so good for you… riding you just how you like. Fuck, I miss you using me. Please, baby—fuck me...”

“Atta girl, Barbie….” You added a third finger with a moan, the stretch burning so perfectly. “Fuckin brat, you had your fun.”

Barbara whimpered at your tone.

“I know what you need.” You moaned. “Do it harder. Play with your clit for me.... Rub it fast while you finger that pretty cunt. I want you to imagine my cock buried inside you, pounding you deep while I hold your hips down.”

A high, broken sound escaped her lips, echoing in the tower’s halls that made your own pussy clench around your fingers.

“I’m—hah—I’m doing it. Feels so good… I’m so close already. You always make me lose it when you get like this.”

You fucked yourself harder, hips bucking off the bed as you withdrew your fingers and focused on your clit, chasing that edge right alongside her.

A sharp cry cut through the comm, followed by a string of breathy curses. “Baby—! I’m gonna cum—fuck, I’m gonna cum so hard—”

“Not yet,” you whined, even as your own breathing grew ragged. Then, softer, almost pleading, the plea in your tone clear. “Wait for me, baby. I wanna cum with you— I’m almost there, just hold on—”

The sloppy wet sounds of your arousal splashing and making mess from how rough you were made Barbara’s his shake with need. “You’re so good— so fucking good. Fuck yourself like that. Harder, baby— cum for me, cum all over my pussy.”

You shrieked, grinding faster, your poor clit throbbing from the overstimulation. “Babs—Barbie— fuck, I need you—”

“I’m yours,” she gasped, fingers pumping faster, each squelching sound making your eyes roll. “I’m yours— only yours—”

That raw, possessive edge in her voice mixed with total surrender sent you spiraling as you ground your palm against your swollen clit, thighs shaking violently as your climax began to crash through you. “Fuck—! Oh god, I’m gonna cum— cum for me, Barbie—”

Her orgasm hit her hard as you cried out her name, thighs shaking while she clenched around her fingers, hips jerking and voice hoarse with a low, throaty moan. Her head tipped back as she rode her own hand through it.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” You moaned her name like a prayer, your pussy pulsing hard around your fingers as slick heat spilled down your thighs and onto the sheets, making a mess. “Jesus Christ— I’m shaking—”

“Ride it out, baby,” Barbara cooed, lightheaded and glowing.

For a long minute afterwards, the only sounds were your shared, ragged breathing and the faint city traffic outside.

Finally, she let out a soft, wrecked little laugh in your ear, the soft thump of her forehead hitting the keyboard making you smile. “Holy shit… I think I saw stars.”

You smiled, slowly pulling your hand away with a shiver, your body still tingling. “Mmm. Same. You sound so fucking pretty when you cum for me.”

“And you sound even prettier when you’re bossing me around,” she teased, voice warm and sated, full of affection. “Since when are you so mean to me?”

You chuckled, chest heaving. “Gotta keep you on your toes, Oracle. Can’t let you stay in control all the time.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” She hummed happily, a faint wet pop sound on the other end. “I like it when you take care of me.”

The silence between you two settled with the warmth of the afterglow.

“You okay over there?” You eventually murmured, and she murmured an ‘mhm’ back to you.

“You should go clean up and get some actual sleep.” Barbara said, soft but firm. “You’ve got watch later.”

“Back to business even after you just came your brains out,” you murmured fondly. “How romantic”

“You love it.”

“I do. I really do.” You paused, heart full. You paused for a moment, then sighed. “I love you, Barbie. Miss you like crazy.”

“I love you more,” she whispered, soft and sincere. “Just hurry home to me, okay? Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“...Right,” you laughed. “I’ll behave.”

The silence settled again, and neither of you spoke between the sounds of heavy breathing.

As the line remained open and the minutes passed, Barbara’s breath soon turned even and slow, her comforting presence in your ear taking you under as exhaustion finally settled over you like a warm blanket.

“...I’ll come home to you,” you whispered.