#Anyway have a drabble and I hope yall like it

[puppetmaster13u]

Even More Meat Marionette Au

But a lil drabble <3 Because my ADHD snatched this au and isn't letting go.

  There were tunnels under Gotham. 

   Everyone knew about them, even if they were rarely spoken of. There were tales about them, some whispered in hushed voices from mother to child, others creeping across withered pages stained with age. Stories of creatures, of living shadows, of men going mad, wailing about the things beneath. 

   No one went into the tunnels. 

  Not purposely at least. 

   For one Bruce Wayne, he had fallen the first time- slipped into a well after a night of rain and into those dark caves with stone as black as night and just as stained with blood as the rest of the city. 

   No one had gone down for a long time, and no one should have gone down for longer still, but the rain had made the crumbling stones slick, the child reaching just a hint too far, and so down he went, nails scrabbling against unyielding rock and blood dripping from soft skin. 

   The child did not scream, even if his terror was sweet in the air as his blood mixed with the water soaking his clothes. He did not stay, just like the others before him, but the caves remembered the sweetness of the fear he brought. 

   No one went into the tunnels, not anymore. 

   Yet the child did. 

   Oh he wasn’t a child anymore, not to humans, but to the ancient caves, he was still but an infant. He’d eventually leave, and they’d still be there. They had been there long before, and they’d be long after even when the city turned to dust in the sands of time. 

   And yet… 

  And yet. 

   Yet he kept returning, night after night and day after day, running a hand along the stone that should have chilled him to the bone. His fear was still ever so sweet in the air, even if it was lessening over the time. It was… curious. 

   There was still the scent of fear, of terror coming from the human, but it also wasn’t. It was coming from him, but it wasn’t his own fear. 

   The emotion clung to him, but it wasn’t his. It was others’ fear, others’ fear he was bringing down to the cavernous tunnels. Others’ fear he was feeding It, unknowing or not. A gift, a meal, something for It and It alone. 

   It was only polite to return the favor, to gift the little human something to fight and terrify. As much as the spilled blood pleased It, the tunnels understood that it would be far better for Its little human to stay healthy, to be able to bring blood not his own. 

   The city was always full of corpses and the tunnels stretched far longer than humans realized after all, It could reach any who fell. Purposeful deaths, accidental, it made no difference to the bloodstained stone beneath. 

   It would call to Its little human soon enough, Its gift was nearly complete after all. Something to fly without the creaking metal or suits of wires. Something new, something It hadn’t formed before. 

   After all, what use would It have for a living body? What use did flesh and stone need to move? It had been here for a long time, and It would be here longer still, but perhaps, perhaps just this once another would last past the crumbling of life and bones turning to dust. 

   A gift, from the tunnels to him. 

   For one Bruce Wayne, who had returned to them with sacrifices of flesh and blood and fear each night. For one child who had fallen and returned to the depths of the tunnels, for one child that was Its.

This is a combo of my Au & @phoenixcatch7's and you need to check out their Possessed Doll Au because it's amazing <3<3

[fbfh]

leo with baby fever? 🥹

i've always wondered what would he be like with babies of his own? 🥹💞

AAAAUGH. thank you for this one my dearest darlingest tumblr user pdlrnjlm. I'm violently sobbing over this one /pos. also excuse any egregious typos, I just woke up from a dream where my dyslexic ass couldn't spell "chris evans fine" to the point that autocorrect was beyond useless (and probably laughing at me).

ANYWAY. Leo with baby fever is... lethal. as previously stated, Leo is the motherfucking ceo of "one wouldn't hurt" but he sounds so... convincing when he says it. he says it so sweetly you start to think huh. maybe one wouldn't hurt. within a day or two his fyp is just cute baby fever inducing videos. he casually learns everything there is to know about child development and parenting in a matter of days. he starts treating your cat like a baby, talking to them and holding them on his lap while he works and good GOD if it doesn't start to hit you too. The tension and soul aching need to see you all big and preggers with his baby, your baby that you made together is almost too much. Then one fatal day, you run out of clean pajamas. It’s laundry day, and the only comfy thing you have on hand is a floral mumu from walmart that looks like something a grandma would wear, but you’re desperate and it’s soft and loose and comfy. So Leo, after spending hours rotting his brain with baby thoughts and thinking about how nice it’ll be to be a dad and how fulfilling it’ll be to come home and see a wrinkly little newborn having tummy time on your chest while you’re both half asleep to barrio sesamo playing on the tv. After a full day of ruminating on that, he comes home and sees you in your floral lil granny nightgown and good GOD something inside him snaps. You have this man feeling you up, snarling and growling, purring in you ear before he bites it. Something has gotten into him and taken full control of the primal part of his brain. And let’s be real here. You might as well consider yourself pregnant from the first “c’mon estrella, one or two couldn’t hurt… they’re so little, you won’t even notice them.” into your neck while he hugs you from behind. But yeah. Leo with baby fever is so simultaneously sweet cute fluffy domestic and rearrange your guts at the same time that it’s kind of inevitable. If Leo kisses your neck and rubs your tummy and says “you’d look so cute pregnant, baby…” you’re gonna fold. You have to. No one can resist that. And who would want to????

[steddieas-shegoes]

cw: mentions of scarring, canon-typical violence, flashback (not graphic), minor body horror (again, not graphic, mostly just emotional feelings about scars)

♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️

Everyone gave him weird looks when they walked in, quickly schooling their features when they noticed he was awake and watching them.

He didn’t know exactly what that was about.

They had him on a lot of good drugs.

But eventually he got weaned off them, and he noticed the pull of bandages on his side, and his arm, and his neck, and his face.

He was still unable to get out of bed. Still couldn’t even reach his arms above his chest for more than a few seconds.

But he damn sure reached up to feel the cloth and plastic surrounding his cheek. How had he not noticed for days? How had no one bothered him about it?

Maybe they had and he just didn’t notice. The morphine was one hell of a drug.

Wayne was soft, patient with him. Saw him touching it, saw the way his eyes filled with tears. He’d never been particularly vain, hadn’t cared much about what he looked like to others, but this felt bigger than that. This felt like he was changed in a way that everyone could see.

Add it to the list of things people could bully him for.

He cried himself to sleep, Wayne’s hand in his, silently comforting in the way he’d always done.

When he woke up again the next morning, he was alone.

It was the first time he’d been alone since the boathouse.

He could swear he heard bats outside his door, screams coming from the attached bathroom, flashes of someone dying on the ceiling.

He felt the sharp sting of teeth puncturing his skin.

He felt hopelessness creep into his bones as he gave in.

Maybe this time they would finish the job.

“Eddie!”

Steve Harrington’s voice broke through the thoughts, panicked enough to bring Eddie back to his hospital bed within a second of hearing it.

“Shit, are you okay?” He continued, hand brushing against Eddie’s bandaged cheek.

Eddie nodded once, closed his eyes, leaned into the touch.

He could blame it on any number of things if Steve felt weird about it. The morphine, the flashback, the loneliness.

“You’re okay, Eddie. I promise. Won’t let anything happen to you,” Steve whispered.

Eddie believed him.

He fell back asleep with Steve���s hand gently cupping the mangled side of his face.

If Steve could still touch him there, then maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️

Steve came by every day, sometimes in the early morning, before visiting hours officially started, sometimes well after Wayne had left to get some sleep. He always smiled when he walked in, a genuine one, not the one everyone else gave that was so fully of pity and pain he couldn’t bear to make eye contact. He sat down on the side of the bed, not the chair like everyone else, not scared to be close.

And every single day, without fail, he would run his finger along the edge of Eddie’s bandage on his face, watching his own movements and cataloging any changes.

Eddie sat quietly, still, scared to put words to anything happening. Scared to tell Steve what it meant to him to have someone acknowledge his pain in this way. Scared to think Steve could mean anything by it.

It was easy to pretend Steve was doing this because he cared.

Maybe he did care.

But he didn’t care the way Eddie wanted him to, needed him to.

So he stayed quiet, still.

He watched.

He fell asleep while Steve talked about his day, the kids, what Joyce made Hopper do around the house.

He woke up alone most days, but that was okay, because Steve would be there eventually.

♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️

“You ready to get that thing off?” Wayne asked, gesturing to the bandage.

“Oh. Today?” Eddie suddenly didn’t want to ever be without the bandage. Removing it meant he’d see what was under it.

It meant seeing how much that place had ruined him.

The pull of the stitches hadn’t been as obvious with the pull of the bandage masking it.

But now it’s all he felt.

The nurse smiled at him as she put some antibiotic cream over the area, saying he would probably still have to keep it extra clean for the next week or so while the stitches did their job.

Wayne smiled at him in the way that meant he didn’t really want to smile at all, but knew Eddie needed him to.

Steve didn’t come.

Eddie didn’t sleep.

♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️

He woke up with panic in his chest and a silent scream in his throat.

He woke up with Steve’s hand on his face.

Gentle, soft, but a strong comfort.

“Promise I washed them first. They said we have to be careful about germs,” Steve said quietly.

“You don’t have to. I know it’s…it’s gross. It’s ugly. I’m ugly.”

Steve shook his head. “No. Not gross. Not ugly. Alive.”

“Steve-“

“You’re alive, Eddie. You could have your entire face held together by staples and you would still be a miracle. You’d still be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

Well, Steve’s charm wasn’t an exaggeration, was it?

He wasn’t even sure if the skin barely pulled together could blush anymore, or if the heat that should be on his cheek was burning on the outside the way it felt like it was on the inside.

“It’s gonna be awful when it heals. I saw it in the mirror.” Eddie could feel every stitch in his jaw, the few that spread across the corner of his mouth and bottom lip, the ones that were nearly up to his ear. “I’ll always have a crooked face. The scar will always be huge. It’s all anyone will see.”

“Then they aren’t looking.”

Eddie bit his lip, eyes searching Steve’s. “But you are.”

“No. I’m seeing. There’s a difference. I see you. I see what you’ve survived. I see the mark it left on you. I know it wasn’t just the scars that cover your skin.” Steve leaned his head down, touching Eddie’s forehead with his own. “We all have them. And we’re all still here. Your heart’s beating. That’s all that matters to me.”

“Who knew you were so good with words?” Eddie smiled sadly.

“Robin says I’m just good at not having a filter.”

“She’s right as always.” Eddie wrapped his fingers around Steve’s wrist, turning as slowly as he could to kiss his palm. “You’re not scared of it.”

“No. Are you?”

“I’m scared that you’ll change your mind when it’s always there as a reminder of what happened.”

Steve kissed his nose, making him smile for the first time in what felt like years.

“I’ll have the reminder that I got you out of there. That no matter what, the bats couldn’t finish the job. That you were stronger and you made it.” Steve let his hand drop, but quickly laced his fingers with Eddie’s. “I know it’s a lot to ask of you to trust me, but will you? For today?”

“Just today?”

“I’ll ask again tomorrow.”

“And what? Every day after that?”

Steve smirked.

His eyes were glistening with tears, but Eddie could tell it wasn’t sadness or fear.

“If that’s what I have to do.”

They hadn’t even talked about feelings, not really. Nothing that made any sense to Eddie, nothing that they could define. A part of Eddie was still convinced he was in a coma and dreaming this entire conversation up.

But even the nurse had noticed the way Steve watched him, how he touched him, how he fought for him. She said he’d been a firecracker from the moment he carried him into the hospital, dripping blood on the tile, staining the halls with his demands for help.

Wayne said he barely left his side the first day, only doing so when the doctors had told him they would call the cops if he didn’t.

Erica even noticed how things had changed between them, stating that she refused to watch her babysitter and the only DM she had respect for make out.

But Steve held Eddie, made him feel like he could get out of the hospital bed and live a life that wouldn’t keep him running. Steve was there.

Steve might even love him. If not now, then some day.

And Eddie could trust him today.

He could probably trust him tomorrow.

“Kiss me?” Eddie probably shouldn’t. The stitches tugged when he talked, and another mouth anywhere near his wounds was just asking for an infection.

But Steve would be careful. He knew what Eddie could handle.

It was barely a kiss. A graze of the lips at most.

But it was the best kiss Eddie had ever had.

At least until tomorrow.

[milliumizoomi]

do you think armando is the type to wanna pay for everything? like the man will literally not let you pay for anything while you’re with him even if you protest against it

𝐇𝐎𝐓 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄: 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐘 𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐒

☆彡SUMMARY.; His money definitely talks but he doesn’t let yours do so much as whisper.

☆彡FEATURED.; ARMANDO x READER

☆彡TROPE.; ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP

☆彡FORMAT.; HEADCANON || DRABBLE

☆彡GENRE.; TOOTH ROTTING FLUFF

☆彡WARNINGS.; Google translated Spanish, Mature language, Armando being you’re resident sugar daddy

☆彡NOTES.; this was too funny and I loved writing thisssss,, tysm for the request and I hope yall enjoy!!😋💕

REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED🤍.

★ public service announcement

★ HE DON’T LET YOU PAY FOR SHIT

★ when you’re with him the only you gon need in that purse is ID and your phone

★ that’s it

★ if he catches you paying for anything, he’s taking the money from you and paying for it himself

★ don’t matter how much you wanna argue I promise you he not listening

★ the card in your purse? Confiscated.

★ the cash you have saved? It better stay saved.

★ I promise you this man is not playing with you at all when it comes to this

ミ★

It’s looking like the credit card you have ain’t good for nothing really.

You don’t have enough fingers and toes to count how many times you’ve been in this type of situation with your hardheaded ass boyfriend.

The both of you have been out all day. He wanted to spend the day with you since he barely gets to, with managing the mafia and all, so he decided to take you out. The only problem is…

You can’t look at anything for too long or he’s buying it.

AND, don’t ever say you’re buying anything cause he ain’t even entertaining that.

“Babe look at thissss!!” You pointed at beautiful white diamond anklet. You wanted it so badly because you knew it’d look gorgeous on you. So, you decided to get it. As Armando walked up to you, you were already talking to one of the sellers so they can retrieve the item for you.

“¿Qué le das a mamá?” He asked as he finally got near you.

“Esta tobillera aquí mismo... ¡es tan bonita!”

You practically skipped away to the cash register and started fishing for your card to pay.

Then your purse disappeared.

Just completely vanished.

You stood there for a moment, very confused, then you look over to see your boyfriend pushing your purse into his pocket and taking out his money to pay.

In cash.

The woman at the register was as wide eyed as you were watching this man casually count hundreds like they were ones.

“How much was it?” He asked.

“O-oh..! It’s $350 sir!” He handed her the money and all you could do was stand there and stare as he took the piece of jewelry.

“Come mama.”

He guided you, by resting his hand on your lower back, and took you to a nearby seat and told you to sit. When you did, he opened up the box with the anklet inside and took it off and began putting it on you.

All you could do is look at him.

When he was done, he stretched out your leg.

“Looks good mama..”

You smiled and agreed, thanking him.

“You don’t have to pay for me all the time you know.” Getting up, he pulls you up too and says, “yeah I do.. and don’t ever let me see you trying to pay for shit again? You hear me?” You couldn’t help the shiver that ran down you’re spine at his words, but you crack a small smile and nodded. “I’m gonna keep trying anyways but fineeeee..” He rolls his eyes at you and kisses you on the forehead and you both begin to walk out the store.

“Baby?” You call to him.

“Hm?”

“Can I have my purse back?”

“No.”

[GLOSSARY]

“¿Qué le das a mamá?” —“What you want mama?”

“Esta tobillera aquí mismo... ¡es tan bonita!” — “This anklet right here... it’s so pretty!”

ミ★

{TAGLIST} :: @armandosbabymama @ghettogirly @tinys0ftie @shurisgf @radioloom @butterflyybabe @dyttomori || if you’d like to be added to the taglist just let me know in comments or dms🤗💕.

ミ★

©2024 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED — MILLIUMIZOOMI. Do not modify, repost, plagiarize, translate or claim any work posted on this blog without my permission.

[f1rodrigo]

the mclaren boy mystery

l. norris / o. piastri

summary: in which your boyfriend is a formula one driver for team mclaren and when you finally decide it's time to start hinting to the world, the internet is confused on exactly which driver is your boyfriend. pairing: social media au || lando norris / oscar piastri x reader fc: jazmyn makenna

a/n: made this on a whim instead of studying for exams & doing hw. there will be more parts eventually... i hope you enjoy for the sake of my abandoned school work. (edit hours later) -> omfg i spent all day working on this (literally at the expense of my hw & studying lolol) & i was about to publish it when i went to my drafts & it was just GONE. i was about to be in tears. i tried everything & finally accepted the fact that it was going to be gone forever. BUT i just opened tumblr again & there she was!!!! so so happy. anyways hope you enjoy<33.

part two | part three

sweet relief series | valentine's day drabble

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liked by landonorris, and 22,019 others

yourusername fast cars n pretty girls 💌

view all 671 comments

user1 i have no idea who these girls are but lando is in the likes......

⤷ user2 fr i'm so curious now

⤷ user3 landos girl of the week i suppose 🤣

⤷ user4 prob just ur typical rich girls who spend their weekends at races 🤷🏻‍♀️

yourbestfriend same time next week?

francisca.cgomes gorgeous girls

⤷ yourusername love u kiks

⤷ user5 guys..... i am thinking Thoughts...

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yourusername added to their story

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liked by mclaren, and 542,111 others

oscarpiastri Singapore, the new helmet and I are ready ✨

view all 1,212 comments

mclaren ✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

user1 LETS GOOOOO

user2 oscar piastri singapore gp winner has a nice ring to it

user3 sexy helmet for a sexy man

user4 SLAYYYYYY

yourusername love the new helmet osc liked by author

⤷ user5 now she's in oscars comments wtf

⤷ user6 and he liked 😯

⤷ user7 are f1 drivers not allowed to have friends or something

user8 absolutely loveee 🫶🏻🫶🏻

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liked by oscarpiastri, yourbestfriend, and 44,921 others

yourusername we <3 singapore

view all 891 comments

user1 guys this isn't funny anymore WHO IS SHE

⤷ user2 lando's gf

⤷ user3 SERIOUSLY?? HOW DO YOU KNOW

⤷ user2 calm 😭😭😭😭😭😭 i was joking i have no clue but honestly wouldn't doubt it

⤷ user4 would yall call me insane if i said i think she's oscars gf

⤷ user5 yes

⤷user6 hmm im listening

user7 oscar in the likes... after she was in his comments...

user8 full main post of lando AND oscar ffs no shame

⤷ user9 maybe they're friends like wtf is the big deal????

⤷ user10 obvs clout chasing

⤷ user11 literally how 😐

⤷ user12 misogyny thats how 👎🏻

⤷ user13 cmon not even close, no one in the f1 community had any clue who this girl was and one day she starts posting about f1 immediately people start talking about her thinking she's dating lando and then next post she's posting him and oscar like clearly trying to get people to keep talking about her. she more than likely isn't with either of them and is she just cashing in her 15 seconds of fame or trying to live out her wag dream

⤷ user14 not the essay in the instagram comment section bffr

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yourusername added to their story

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landonorris added to their story

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part two

part three

reply or send me a message to be added to the taglist 🤍

[arcadia-of-pluto]

Bad Weather LADS Drabbles

Word count; 837

Warnings; fluff, reader is scared of bad weather

Notes; hey guys! I thought I'd just post something small and I've never tried my hand at drabbles before, so I hope they're actually decent enough. I'm also not sure how long they're supposed to be or if this is classified as a scenario instead? Either way, I felt bad for not writing anything new in my one-shots this week, so I hope a random little drabble will suffice!

Either way, I was just a bit inspired since I have a tad bit of bad weather coming my way (mostly just thunderstorms and high winds, a storm surge from the hurricane but it's not going to come anywhere close), and I was inspired to write since I don't particularly like bad weather. Big things in the sky scare me, to be honest.

Anyway, yall be safe out there if there's any bad weather near yall and I hope you have a good day/night!! 🩷

Sylus

“Hmm?” Sylus would wake up in the middle of the night with you in his arms, trembling from the sound of rain harshly hitting the windows. Wind whistling and whipping while your head was buried in his chest. 

“Kitten?” He would chuckle. “You're a mighty and proud Hunter, but this is what scares you?” 

A flash of light illuminates the room and your nails bite into the skin of his shoulder. 

Sylus would count out-loud how long it took for the lightning to follow behind the thunder. The low timber of his voice helps you calm down with your ear against his chest. 

His arms would tighten around you every time you jump from fear. 

“Calm down now, sweetie. Do you want me to have Mephisto fly out there and check the damage? Or should I have Luke and Kieran go out there and stop the storm?” 

A small caw is echoed through the room– a sign that Mephisto clearly did not want to go outside. 

You would laugh and shake your head. The thought of the twins trying to physically fight the storm, and Mephisto being blown around in the high winds, calms you down to where you can finally fall back asleep. 

Rafayel

“Hey…the studio isn't going to flood or anything right?” You would be worried, having heard on the news that Linkon would be hit with the storm surge coming off a hurricane. The hurricane wouldn't hit Linkon, however you were more worried about tsunamis– especially when you were at Rafayel's studio on Whitesand Bay. 

“It better not.” Rafayel would grumble as he tried to quickly put away any paintings he really cared about. “But if it does, you'll be safe by my side.” 

“That's…very reassuring..” you would say, not feeling very reassured because what could Rafayel do? He couldn't very well tell the raging waters to just stop…or could he?

As you excitedly turn around to ask Rafayel this, he puts his hand up in front of him. “I know what you're going to ask and my answer is no.” 

“Aw..” You would sigh before you'd nervously look out the window, keeping a close eye on the distant tide and the clouds in the sky. 

“Cutie..–” Rafayel tugs on your arm to pull you away from the window. “Seriously, don't look outside. You'll just stress yourself out, Miss Hunter.” 

He mischievously smiles, “Come on, let's go paint something together to pass the time or…I could distract you.”

Xavier 

“Xavier, does that cloud look weird to you or is it just me?” You would squint up at the sky, staring at the large bundle of clouds. “Mm…it's called a wall cloud.” Xavier would say from your couch, fingers tapping against his phone. 

“It usually means thunderstorms are on the way, and it can cause tornadoes.” The silvery-blonde haired man would shrug as if this wasn't a big deal, but it was. A big deal, that is. 

“Xavier, this is seriou–” 

A sharp noise would slip from your lips when a loud boom shakes the whole apartment and the lights go out shortly after. 

“Xav..” You would dart back inside from your place on the balcony and quickly shut the doors, trying to search for him in the dark. 

“Right here, starlight.” 

You would notice a tiny speck of light before a dozen others lit up the room. It almost felt romantic, if it wasn't for the rain pelting the windows and the distant sound of thunder. 

“Come here, we can hide out from the storm together in our own little world.” 

Zayne

“We gonna die–” you would blurt out the moment you began to hear sirens. Bundled up in a blanket on Zayne's living room floor, eyes locked in on the weather report coming from the TV. 

“I– Snow angel…” Zayne can't help but laugh as he returns to the living room with two mugs in hand. “Be careful, it's hot.” He would say as he sets your mug on the table in front of you. 

“Are you not worried at all!?” Your gaze would turn to him in a panic and Zayne would sit down next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. 

“If we die, I'll die with the person I love. That doesn't sound too bad, all things considered.” He admits. 

“You…What–” 

“I think we'll be just fine, angel. You fight wanderers daily, so I didn't expect you'd be this scared of bad weather.” Zayne leans forward and rests one arm over his propped up knee. 

“You know, even though I've known you since we were children, I'm still constantly learning new things about you…” A smile tugs at his lips as he reminisces on the past for a moment. “I hope we survive this ordeal so I can continue to learn more about you in the future.” 

“Zayne, you're not helping!” You would hit his shoulder and try to cover up your reddening face. But you do appreciate the way he was trying to get your mind off of the weather outside. 

[freyito]

Can you do the type of dates Mk1 guys will take you on?

idk if yall caught on but i absolutely love making these big ass drabbles for everyone... takes so long but its always so worth it. i got like 3 more in the drafts el oh el

cw: gn reader, juuuust fluff, bonus characters!, proofread

ᴛʏᴘᴇꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴅᴀᴛᴇꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴋᴏᴍʙᴀᴛ ʙᴏʏꜱ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴏɴ

⎯ Liu Kang

Need I say it? I'll say it anyways. Stargazing. Liu Kang loves taking you stargazing. He'll take you absolutely anywhere in the world. It does not matter that he's lived under these stars for ages and ages. He enjoys seeing Earthrealm's natural beauty. And the stars, of course.

⎯ Bi-Han

Bi-Han prefers private moments with you, so his favorite date is simply a nice stroll. Sure, he could be lavish and drop a whole bunch of money on you, but he feels like that does not display his love properly. He just likes quality time with you, really. A nice, private dinner with you doesn't sound bad, either... or even ice skating. As cheesy as that is for someone like him.

⎯ Kuai Liang

As much as Kuai tries to be simple, he really loves taking you to festivals. As often as he can, of course that kind of amounts to like eight a year. But he loves them, he loves every single aspect of them. Mainly pampering you and buying you all the food you could want. His favorite festival is actually the Lantern Festival, he loves sending off lanterns with you.

⎯ Johnny Cage

Johnny sets up the most fancy, frivolous, and expensive dates for you, always. Truth be told, however, he really just likes a night in with you. Ordering your favorite take-out, cuddling up on the couch, watching one of his favorite movies- which, surprisingly, isn't one of his! He really loves horror movie nights, too. He chooses the corniest movies, and gets kind of disappointed if you don't AT LEAST squeeze his bicep during the scary parts.

⎯ Kenshi Takahashi

I like to think Kenshi is a good ol' fashioned lover boy. He loves extending the date through the whole day. He starts off with surprising you with flowers in the morning, maybe going on for a nice little stroll, have lunch at a quaint little café, and finish it all off with some dancing. Perhaps in the kitchen, or at a club, whichever you choose. Kenshi is actually terrifyingly good at dancing, he's just smooth like that.

⎯ Kung Lao

Madam Bo's. Breakfast, lunch, or dinner. Are you surprised? No. I know you aren't. Kung Lao loves any date that involves food, but enjoying something as simple and humble as a meal at Madam Bo's specifically has been and always will be his favorite.

⎯ Raiden

Raiden loves picnics! Somewhere in the secluded country-side, just enjoying your time with him. A myriad of home-made appetizers and what not. He believes it's one of the most intimate ways to spend time with you. He also loves to admire the way the sun compliments your figure, as well.

⎯ Zeffeero

Zeffeero seems particularly excited when it rains. Of course. It's in the job description. He urges you in the most nonchalant way for a quick stroll in the rain. Which inevitably leads to dancing in the rain. He tries to keep his composure around you, to look like that respectable wizard all the damn time. But you make him crumble, and he just can't help but giving in to breaking that façade with you.

⎯ Tomas Vrbada

Tomas also loves taking you out for dinner at Madam Bo's. Partially because he still feels guilty. But he loves the food there, and he hopes you do, too. To be honest, any time spent with you is worth it. So when it comes to dates, he doesn't exactly have a go-to or a favorite.

⎯ Baraka

Stargazing. The wastes provide a great space away from any sort of light pollution, and truth be told, Baraka prefers any time away from any populated places with you. He's afraid of the backlash you could get, as well as just the overall fear of spreading Tarkat. He knows his place, really. But those moments, deep in the night, where the stars are the brightest make up for all the worry.

⎯ Geras

Geras kind of has... no concept on dates. Like, none. He's a construct, and he doesn't really know much of the human connection. He's content simply by seeing you- which is kind of all your dates amount to. He's busy regardless, he has to watch over the hourglass.

⎯ Syzoth

Would it sound weird if I said Syzoth really liked hiking...? Aside from just cuddling up with you, he likes to explore. Especially with Earthrealm being so new to him. Being all sort of tucked away in the mountains, just with you, where he's free to transform and explore and enjoy his new-found life and freedom just... sparks something within him.

⎯ Havik

Oh boy. Havik also SUCKS at dates. Given his rowdy and anarchist nature, it's really hard for him to find a proper way to settle down and enjoy the day with you. Aside from naps, he genuinely would like you to tag along with him on all his... excursions. Extreme they may be, dismantling some sort of order with you really makes his heart burn for you.

⎯ Shao Kahn

With his status, it's kind of hard to find proper time to take you out. However, when he does, it's always a stereotypical quiet dinner. He's got some pretty damn connections, and somehow always manages to land the right table. Under the moonlight, just talking about your days. He enjoys those quiet, mundane moments.

⎯ Shang Tsung

A day AND night out shopping is really what Shang Tsung loves. He spoils you (and himself), and he's all chatty while you two walk down the market. He's very observant, actually. Any little thing you so much as spend more than 2 seconds looking at is now in your hands. He loves buying you the little things.

⎯ Reiko

Being second in command to Shao, Reiko kind of knows his way around dancing. He's a soldier, yeah, but especially when he's close to the royalty I imagine there's some sort of luxury he has to uphold. Reiko's not the best at dancing by all means, but whenever some sort of ball event starts in Sun Do, he's bringing you. And he gets better, each time.

⎯ Bonus Points! Takeda Takahashi

KARAOKE. Takeda SUCKS at singing, but it's not about that. It is so fun with him. Getting a break from the Shirai Ryu, his father, the special forces, pulling you to some dive, screaming his heart out to some white girl pop, he loves it. And he loves it when you two do those silly little duets. He could care less about how bad he sings, it's just those moments he gets to let loose with you.

⎯ Bonus Points! Hanzo Hasashi

It may come as a surprise, but Hanzo loves little pottery dates. For a man like him, it seems so unlikely. But it's quiet, and actually needs a lot of focus. That's what he likes about it. It's something calming to do, with his love. And he likes to see what you come up with, especially. He kind of sucks at painting, though. So he'll pass off the bowls or cups he makes for you to paint.

© freyito, 2023 | masterlist | queue | kofi DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS.

[oukabarsburgblr]

Kicking my feet every time you post something,, between Sousuke and Daisuke who do you think would be more into dry humping?? It might just be me but I find it super hot,, plus the burn of overstim feels good idk

HAHAHAHAHA yeah ill answer ur question. But today i went to see a horror movie in theaters and booked one of those couple seat w my bfs LEMME TELL YALL I WAS IN HEAT

Theres sumth so intimate abt being close together in a dark place, but nah fiction stays in fiction i dont live that life so sousuke ure up

Id say Daisuke would not be into dry humping, hes raised a comfortable life so he doesnt like the feeling of his clothes tacky or wet so if he cums in his pants, he wouldnt like that, hed rather wait until u two are alone together to pull off ur clothes and shove his fingers up ur ass

SOUSUKE HOWEVER....that man is the epitome of raw human lust so hed accept whatever he gets, lets say you two (in a high school setting) during lunch hour and someone got a little heated so u both staggered into the janitors closet and sousuke wanted to eat ur ass then and there but time was running out so rubbing ur ass up against his crotch was the next best thing....

The friction against his bulge with the plump of ur bottom, ur trousers crinkling with how slow and desperate Sousukes thrusts are, u were bent over holding onto the shelves and his rough hands were on ur waist, dragging ur ass up and down his crotch, the heat pooled on ur contact and the pleasure from the fabric dragging against his privates and your stuttering moans was enough to make him cum.

You however, wasnt satisfied with just ur ass being humped, so u turned around, pulled him in for a kiss and shoved his hand down ur pants. His teeth crashed against yours and his prominent fangs brushed over your upper lip. His hand in your pants were fiercely jerking you off, pulling at ur cock and his other hand went to the backside of ur trousers to push a dry finger into ur asshole and thats when u finally busted a load.

The post-nut clarity passed quick and there was only the bitter taste of shame and guilt in your palate as u washed off sousukes hands who had tissues shoved in his boxers, the both of you struggled to clean up before the next class, your homeroom teacher yelling at both of you for being late.

Thats that. I might make a drabble abt this if requested. Daisuke deff wouldnt be into this, for foreplay maybe but to cum nahhh

Anyways im glad u asked this ngl, id love to answer more questions regarding this (albeit at a better time HAHA) ill answer the rest of the inboxes tonite too, see ya!

Oh and i love dry humping, the friction and pain really sets me off crazy and theres just sumth abt being humped in clothings, like dogs trying to have a go at it...(i hope someone request this so i can have a reason to write this w sousuke hehe)

[ggukiepie]

one of your girls (pt. 2) (jungkook x reader)

we go 'round again, we jump back in bed that's what you do when you love somebody these bad omens, i look right through them that's what you do when you love somebody bad omens by 5sos

pairing: jungkook x fem oc

tags: smut, angst, fluff, fuckboy!jk, fwb rel, oc is...she thinks with her heart <//3, college au, jungkook is sus and a bit mean but is oc any better ? hmmmm

warnings: kissing, fingering, protected sex, mirror kink, backshots wooo but make it romantic, light choking, multiple orgasms, a little bit of aftercare, cuddling :o

word count: 6k

a/n: weeeee part 2 is finally here !! sorry this took so long yall. i have two more parts to release for this series (flashback then part 3). anw happy reading !! uhhhhhh the ending..dont scream at me :D / part 1 / drabble i (flashback)

taglist: @yuwaimo @haileycannotcometothephonern @hoseokteardrop @hoodrejects @agrika @joonwater @moonchild1

..••°°°°••..°°••....••°°..••°°°°••..

It's sunny today which calls for hanging out at the quad. It's what you and your friends usually do to take advantage of the rare warm days. Jihyo's busy bickering with Mingyu, you don't know what they're really talking about because you're busy re-writing your notes. You haven't seen Jimin yet but he texted the group chat saying he's just buying food. And Jungkook...well you don't know if he's going to show up today. You haven't talked to him since that night. It's just been three days anyway.

You feel someone sit down beside you and you notice it's Jimin. He's wearing those skinny jeans he loves so much because he says it makes his ass look nice. You roll your eyes every time he mentions that.

"Cool guy alert," Mingyu suddenly calls out. You whip your head up to stare at Jimin who's wearing the biggest pair of sunglasses you've ever seen, it's covering half of his face already.

"Too sunny for you, Jiminie?" Jihyo teases this time.

You all watch Jimin silently as he removes the sunglasses. His left eye is bruised and it's ugly and purple and almost black.

"What the fuck," Jihyo says to break the silence. "What happened to you?"

Jimin doesn't say anything yet, just simply fixes his hair and shakes his head. You can tell he's trying not to get angry because his jaw is clenched.

"Jimin?" you whisper.

"It was Jungkook," he says gruffly. Your heart stops again at the mention of his name. Why would Jimin and Jungkook fight? Their friendship is pretty solid and they always get along well. You've never seen them annoyed at each other.

Your eyes flit to Mingyu and you think he knows what happened because he's silent, no hint of surprise on his face. He's looking down at the table while playing with his food.

"You guys never fight," Jihyo interjects. "What happened?"

Jimin turns to face you and you suddenly think you know why. You don't want to say it yourself but you think you've got an inkling why Jungkook punched him. You just hope you're wrong.

"You need to talk to him," Jimin tells you, completely ignoring Jihyo's question. You nod silently and check your phone to see if Jungkook has texted you at all. Of course he hasn't. Typical. But you'll find him today. You don't know exactly what went down but Jimin telling you to find him confirms your suspicions. It's enough to get you mad, your body heating and tensing up in simmering anger. You don't mind what Jungkook does to you, how he hurts your feelings without intending to, how he treats you like you're some disposable object, like you're just there always on the sidelines waiting for him. What you can't tolerate is Jungkook bringing both your friends into your situationship. What goes on between you and Jungkook should stay between you both and that's it. You can't handle him hurting Jimin as well.

There are a few places where you think Jungkook might be. You walk to the cafeteria first and search for him in the crowd. He's not there so you head to the library instead and your heart drops the moment you see him talking to some girl.

"Hey," you practically shout, suprising the people in the library and yourself as well, even. You're usually never this angry. Never address someone in such a venomous way. But you can't help but feel irked at what Jungkook's done.

He looks back and his eyes widen at your angry form. It only lasts for a second before he smirks and walks closer to you.

"Yeah?" he says, all smug and cocky.

"We need to talk."

Then you turn around and start walking out of the library, could hear Jungkook walking behind you already. Girl he was talking to all forgotten.

Surprisingly, you end up at his place.

You walk into his living room, ignoring him when he tells you to take a seat on the couch.

"Did you punch Jimin?" you ask right away, wanting to get this stupid issue over with.

You watch as his jaw clenches, tongue poking the inside of his cheek. He looks at you for a moment, eyes in slits at your hostility. "And what if I did?"

"What the fuck was that, Jungkook?" You look at him with stern eyes and could tell he's angry as well, chest rising up and down in quick breaths.

"Don't mess with my friends," he says.

"Jimin is my friend too!" you retort. "What happens between me and Jimin has nothing to do with you."

"Just—"

"Just what, Jungkook?" you cut him off. "You had no right to punch Jimin like that. Why'd you even do it in the first place?" You place your hands on your hips as you wait for him to answer you, puffing out a breath in frustration.

He looks a bit lost, eyes darting from side to side to look for an answer. The longer the silence goes, the shorter your patience gets.

"Well?" you prompt.

"Just don't, alright?" he says lamely. You roll your eyes. "You can sleep with anyone else except—"

"Who the fuck gave you the right to tell me who I can and can't sleep with?" You're almost screaming now but you don't care. This push and pull with Jungkook is making you so angry you want to punch him. You walk up to him and shove at his chest but he barely stumbles back. It just angers you even further. "I don't even give you shit when you sleep with other girls!" You continue pushing him back, practically punching his chest now. "It's not like you agreed to be exclusive. You said it yourself that you still wanted to fuck around. That was the agreement."

Jungkook grabs your wrists to stop you from pushing him. You watch him clench his jaw as he makes eye contact with you. "What if I want to take back what I said?"

"What?" you mumble dumbly, all the fight leaving your body.

He lets go of your wrists and takes a step back. You watch him pace back and forth in his room. "What if I want us to be exclusive?"

You say the first thing that comes to mind. "You're lying." He must be. He's just trying to lure you in, get him on your good side again.

He looks at you dead in the eyes and it seems like all the anger and frustration is leaving his body as well. He looks defeated and tired, and you're sure you look the same. "I'm not. I never lie to you."

"You do, Kook," you say quietly. But you're not saying it to make him feel bad. You're simply saying it because it's the truth and both of you know that.

He sits down beside you on his bed and buries his face in his hands. You watch him and try to keep your tears at bay.

"Kook, if this is some sick joke—"

"It's not," he says all of a sudden. "What if I want us to be exclusive?" he tries again.

You don't like it when he looks at you like that. Like you matter to him. Like he actually cares. Like he feels the same way as you. Looking into his eyes is too much so you turn your head away and stare at the wall instead.

"Why?" you whisper.

"Because..." he tries. "Because—"

"Because what, Kook? Suddenly you don't like the idea of me sleeping with other guys? But you can sleep with other girls? And if I say yes to you, what'll happen then?" you say harshly. "Huh? You're gonna forget about me? Just use me whenever you want?"

"It's not like that, sweetheart." He tries grabbing your hand but you shake him off. You stand up and walk to the other side of the room, suddenly wanting to be away from him. Being near Jungkook clouds your senses and makes you act irrationally.

"Don't call me that." You feel your lips trembling and you're pretty sure tears are streaming down your face. "I don't know what you want from me, Jungkook. You can't even explain why you want us to be exclusive."

He mirrors your expression, big doe eyes suddenly teary as well. "I'm sorry," he chokes out. It stays silent after that. You nod to yourself. Maybe this is the best explanation you'll get. You gather your things and mumble a goodbye. You exit his bedroom and Jungkook doesn't chase after you. At this point you don't expect him to anymore. You bump into Mingyu and Jihyo upon exiting Jungkook's apartment. They call out to you but you ignore them and speed walk out of the building.

Your heart hurts. Like, it physically hurts. You know you should feel happy with what Jungkook's just told you. It's what you wanted ever since you fell for him. But why are you pushing away? Why don't you want to believe him all of a sudden?

Because you used to. Believe him, that is. Used to look at him all starry eyed with whatever he said. Said yes to whatever he asked. Looked at him like he can achieve world peace. Something stupid of the sort. Wore your heart on your sleeve every time you were with him. Even when you weren't, now that you think about it.

You always showed your feelings through your actions. He just showed his feelings through his words.

It's different but it's the same. This time you don't believe him. Stopped believing his words some time ago. Always knew there was some lie beneath his words. Always doubted what he said. Or just brushed it over your shoulder. Never let it settle in the crevices of your heart, which is sadly just filled with him. Him, him, him.

Jungkook, Jungkook, Jungkook.

You should feel sorry for yourself for how much he's changed you without even trying to directly. You never thought you'd have to change yourself for a man. But here he is, making you doubt him and the world. You were never like this before.

You thought love was easy. That if it was the right person, everything would fall into place naturally. You didn't know love would be like this. That you'd always be cautious, always had your walls up, looking over your shoulder. That you had to fight for love, or that it hurt so much you found difficulty in breathing.

But is Jungkook the right person?

It's not something you want to answer yourself, because you'll get hurt either way. You just brush the thought aside like you do with your feelings.

You don't go back to your apartment because you know Jihyo thinks it'll be the first place you go to. Will barge in your room because she has a spare key. Is confrontational and protective of you like that, she'll ask questions right away.

But you don't want to think of what just transpired. You want to forget. Move on. Not sure if that means moving on from Jungkook entirely (you doubt you ever will) but you just want to forget about today.

So you keep walking. No destination in mind, you just let your feet walk you to wherever. Away from campus. Walking through some random park. Eventually, you end up at a Korean BBQ. Don't realize the meaning this place holds till you're seated. It's Jungkook's favorite restaurant. He brought you here twice.

Now you're here alone. You start feeling pathetic. Who the fuck goes to a restaurant like this alone? You scan the area—you see couples, friends, families eating together. But you're alone which means you have to grill the meat alone. Serve yourself. Eat by yourself.

You order two bottles of soju. Might as well be drunk while looking pathetic.

You think you've made a good decision. The food is good and you're doing everything yourself so you have no time to think about other things. Or people. Person.

You flip the meat only to see that you've flipped it too early. It's not properly cooked yet. Jungkook always knew when to flip it at the right time.

You sigh. That was what, twenty minutes of him being out of your head? At least it's progress. Somewhat.

After a while you decide you can't inhale anymore food. You'll probably explode. But a happy tummy is a happy heart. Or whatever people say. You're drunk, can't think straight. You're drunk but not stupid, so you ask Jihyo if she can pick you up.

She simply replies otw and is outside the restaurant ten minutes later. She comes in full force—which is really just Mingyu and Jimin with her in the car. It's Mingyu's car, anyway, so you expected to see him. You don't know why Jimin's with them, but you don't mind. Seeing your group of friends eases the ache in your heart even more. Even though one person's missing.

You don't mind. Well, just a little.

You smile at them as you walk to the car while Jihyo runs out of it to give you a big hug. She doesn't say anything as she rubs your back soothingly and you don't cry on her shoulder like you normally would. You're too tired of crying. Being sad.

You don't say anything as the both of you get back in the car. They don't ask about what happened and for that you're grateful. You don't want to process it yet, anyway. Don't think there's much to process. You love Jungkook and he doesn't love you back. Simple.

Your friends fill in the quiet pretty well. Jimin goes off on some tangent. You don't really know the topic. But Jihyo's interjecting from time to time. Mingyu makes a joke and it has all of you laughing. Eventually you get to Jimin's place. It's the usual hangout spot. A one bedroom apartment with a nice balcony. Not too big but not too small either. Just right for the four of you.

Usually five.

You don't know what transpired after you left Jungkook's place. How Mingyu and Jihyo saw you running out with tears down your cheeks. You don't know and you don't ask. You all watch a movie together. All fall asleep in Jimin's living room. Will complain about your backs hurting the next morning but you don't care. It's nice to be around them.

You leave Jimin's place the morning after. You, Mingyu and Jihyo leave because Jimin shoos all of you out. Says he has an exam to study for. He'll probably complain about it during lunch. Tuesdays are reserved for lunch with each other. Out on the quad, if it's sunny enough. In the cafeteria otherwise. You're not sure if Jungkook will show up. You doubt he will.

Mingyu and Jihyo walk you home. You shower and get ready for class. You move as if you're on autopilot. Shower. Get dressed. Get the right textbooks. Lock your door. Walk to class.

You put yourself in this bubble, in this false sense of security that things are ok. You'll be okay. You've been through a lot and you're still here standing, breathing, living. This? This is nothing.

You just have to give yourself time. Have to push your feelings away. Out of sight, out of mind. Don't think it works like that when it's about your feelings. Whatever. Your heart will mend itself back to place.

But what makes a heart whole? It's people, mostly. It's your friends. Your family.

Jungkook.

Always gonna be Jungkook.

And you're back at square one.

..••°°°°••..°°••....••°°..••°°°°••..

jk (sent two weeks ago): can we talk?

jk (sent one week ago): hi

jk (sent one week ago): can we talk pls?

jk (sent five days ago): y/n?

jk (sent three days ago): im so sorry, y/n. i just want to talk. please.

..••°°°°••..°°••....••°°..••°°°°••..

It's been two weeks since the incident and your group hasn't been complete ever since. Either Mingyu and Jihyo are with Jungkook, or with you. Things are starting to change for the worse, and it's making you sad.

At least Jimin and Jungkook have made up already. You don't know the details exactly (because you didn't ask), but you've heard that they've started hanging out again.

You and Jungkook?

You haven't replied to any of his texts. You haven't seen him for two weeks. It's weird. It feels like there's something wrong, something off. Like there's a small pebble in your shoe. Like there's a nagging voice in your head telling you to go back home because you forgot to unplug your straightener.

Like you're missing a piece of you. This hole in your chest that leaves you feeling empty.

You miss Jungkook. And not just the sex. You also miss the friendship. The intimate moments.

You don't have the courage to ask about him, to text him back or look for him. Frankly, you're still hurt from what transpired and you think you might just break if he hurts you again.

It's even raining today. The cold and gloomy weather dampens your mood even more. You baked cookies to try to cheer you up. You used to love baking but haven't done so in a while, you're not really sure why. But you needed an extra pick me up today.

You're holding the tupperware of cookies close to your chest when you walk in the cafeteria, looking for your friends. You always bake extra for them—love the looks on their faces when Jihyo counts all the cookies first and divides it accordingly, when Mingyu gets more than what he should have, when they all fight over the last piece.

When Jungkook would ask if you had extra cookies back at your place.

You don't think that'll happen anymore.

You spot your friends by a table in the corner of the cafeteria, next to a large window where the rain hits it outside in a steady patter.

You see Mingyu who's taking to Jimin, Jihyo typing something on her laptop.

And there's the missing piece, beanie-clad head hung low, tattooed hand busy writing on his notebook.

You feel your heart lurch in your chest. You stop walking, not minding that you're blocking the way.

You take deep breaths to calm your nerves. You have to see each other at some point. And also, you don't want your friends to feel awkward anymore.

You continue walking again and because the universe wants to torture you even further, the only available seat left is right across Jungkook.

"Hi," you chirp, trying to sound as cheery as you can as you sit down. Mingyu, Jihyo and Jimin all look at you in surprise, then Jimin starts talking about his day to fill in the awkward silence. The three of them try to make things go back to normal. You would've laughed at the looks of your friends' faces (sans Jungkook, because you refuse to look at him) if you didn't feel so nervous.

You join in the conversation as well, not an ounce of sadness shown on your face. You don't want your situation with Jungkook to affect the rest of your friends.

The both of you never address each other directly, but you do feel him looking at you from time to time.

You place the cookies in the middle of the table. Like old times, Jihyo counts all the cookies and tells everyone they can only have three pieces each. Mingyu eats more than three. The three of them fight over the last piece, Jimin proposing that they battle it out through rock paper scissors.

You're laughing at the scene in front of you. Good thing you saved some for yourself back at your apartment.

Amidst the chaos, you feel Jungkook lean over the table to whisper in your ear.

"You got more cookies back at yours?"

Your body stiffens at the proximity. Usually you'd say yes. He'd follow you home, make some small talk while you place cookies in a ziplock for him, then he'd hug you goodbye.

That was before the agreement. It was essentially the same routine when you started sleeping with each other, though of course he'd stay a little bit longer.

You turn your head and look at him for the first time. You will yourself not to cry, to steel your emotions.

He looks so soft, so comfy like he just rolled out of bed. He's wearing a beanie to tame his curls, and he's wearing one of his oversized shirts paired with gray sweatpants.

He smells good too. And you realize that you really, really miss him.

"Yeah," you say just as quietly. You feel your heart lighten, but your head's screaming at you to reject him.

Jungkook doesn't say anything else and neither do you. You wait for your friends to finish eating and once everyone stands up, Jungkook walks to your side. Jihyo looks at you quizzically but you just shake your head, silently telling her not to voice out anything out loud. You say your goodbyes and start walking towards your apartment, Jungkook right beside you.

It's silent. And a little bit awkward. You're thinking of what to tell him, whether he wants to talk about what happened, or he just wants your damn cookies.

You close the door behind the both of you and you immediately walk to your small kitchen, grabbing the container of extra cookies and putting some in a ziplock, like you usually do. You feel from the corner of your eyes that Jungkook's watching you, and you feel like your heart is about to burst at what he might say.

"About that night..." he starts.

You sigh and drop the cookies on the counter, turning to him to look at him directly. For the first time in a while, Jungkook looks nervous. Fingers fidgeting, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

"You know I like you, right?" you suddenly say.

"Yeah," he answers right away without a beat of hesitation.

"Then I want to stop whatever it is we have between us."

You watch Jungkook's face for his reaction. How his eyes widen, how he clenches and unclenches his fists, how his chest rises up and down in quick beats.

"Why?" he simply asks.

You bite your lip in thought, thinking of the right words to say. "I can't let you treat me like shit anymore, Jungkook. It's not healthy for the both of us. I don't know how you feel or what you want but look," you sigh. "You punched Jimin because what? Because I slept with him?"

"What if I want us to try?"

Now it's your turn for your eyes to widen, for your heart to lurch in your chest, body seizing at the question. Acting the same way you did when he asked the first time.

"Try?"

Jungkook nods, lips pursed as he walks closer to you. "You and me. Let's try. No more fooling around with other people." He swears under his breath as he comes to stand in front of you, both arms caging you against the counter. He breathes out and rests his forehead against yours, eyes closed like he's tired.

You're tired as well. But you let him do what he wants. Like you always do.

"(Y/N)," he starts to say. "Look, I— The thought of you sleeping with someone else... It made me crazy," he laughs dryly.

You lean back and scrunch your eyebrows at him. "Jungkook, I'm not some object for you to be possessive over. You just can't—"

"I don't mean it like that," he says, looking at you directly now. Your knees would've buckled at the intensity of his gaze were it not for your body leaning on the kitchen counter. "I just mean..." He turns his head to look away. "I just mean I can't bear the thought of you being with someone else anymore. Doing the things we do."

You open your mouth in reply then close it again when you realize you don't know what to say. You've been waiting to hear this confession for so long, but now that you've heard it, you're suddenly not happy. You're unsure. Guarded. Hurt.

"Jungkook," you whisper unsurely.

He turns his head back to you, gaze right on your lips before he locks eyes with you again.

"We can try. Please," he whispers. It's weird seeing Jungkook this way, all vulnerable and desperate. Begging. Usually, you'd be in his position. Not the other way around. "I promise this time."

You feel your resolve slowly crumbling. All the walls you've built up from your last interaction with him come falling down. You should hate yourself, you really should. But you know where your heart lies. What it wants. That you'd take any inkling of love he'd give you. Even if he may not mean it. Even if it might not last forever.

"Okay," you say, and the moment you do, you see the most beautiful smile grace his face. It makes you smile as well, ignoring the little voice in the back of your head to say no. "But we start slowly, alright?"

He nods his head, smile still there, body slowly pressing against yours. He nuzzles his head in the crook of your neck and your arms automatically go around him.

"Kook," you sigh. "We should probably talk first—"

"In the morning, baby," he says in between the kisses he's placing on your shoulder. "I promise."

You play with his hair while Jungkook does what he wants. Kissing your shoulder, your collarbone, up to your jaw. It's playful at first, big smooches echoing in your apartment. Then it starts getting heated the moment you feel his tongue on your skin.

"J-Jungkook," you stutter.

He grips your waist and lifts you up so you're seated on the counter. "You drive me crazy, I hope you know that."

You smile at him and say nothing else as you grab his face towards yours, finally reconnecting your lips with his. It's soft and sensual, no sense of urgency like how you usually kiss. Like how Jungkook had somewhere to be after. Or that he wanted to get it over with.

He's taking his time now by the way his lips mold slowly against yours, like he wants to map out how you taste, how you feel, how your tongue feels like pressed against his.

You stay like that for a while, just kissing and basking in each other's presence. Jungkook holds your waist firmly like he doesn't want to let go. Frankly, you don't want him to either.

You start getting antsy so you grab the hem of his shirt and try to slip it over his head. He laughs at your impatience as you throw the shirt somewhere in your apartment, hands going to his back instantly. Scratching your nails lightly down his skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake. Then your hands go down to his pants and you start toying with his jeans.

"Sweetheart," he leans back and chuckles. He holds your face gently. "There's no need to rush, okay? We've got all the time in the world."

You lean back as well, exhaling the breath you didn't know you were holding. "Okay," you agree. "Yeah, sorry."

"Let me take my time with you," he murmurs as he leans in again to kiss you.

Jungkook does his take time. Practically kisses every inch of your skin. Takes off your clothing one by one. Fingers you slowly that you're seeing stars. Cleans you up with his mouth that you're left breathless and dizzy. Disoriented. You're both (finally) naked by the time you're in bed.

"Look at yourself, baby," he whispers right into your ear.

His words go in your ear and out the other, head too clouded with the mind blowing orgasm he just gave you. You don't understand what he's telling you to do until he gently grabs your chin and turns it to where he wants you to look. Your eyes spot your full length mirror. You see yourself, bare and sitting on the bed with your legs folded beneath you, thighs open and pussy on display. Jungkook's right behind you in a similar position, body so big and wide that you notice the stark difference of your bodies.

You see your chest heaving up and down, tits moving in sync with your breaths. Your hands are resting on his thighs. Jungkook slithers his arm to wrap around your waist. Finally, you lock eyes with him through the mirror.

"See?" he says, though you don't really know what he wants you to see. "You look so pretty. S'why I can't get enough of you."

"Oh," you breathe out.

"Yeah, oh," Jungkook chuckles lightly. "Gonna fuck you now, okay?"

You nod your head in reply and Jungkook lifts you up a bit to enter you from behind. You gasp when he fills you up right away, a perfect fit like always. He starts thrusting slowly but deeply, and you feel his tip kiss your cervix each time. You would've toppled forward were it not for his protective hold around your waist.

"Feels good," you finally moan out.

"I know, baby," he pants from behind you. "You take me so well. Like you were made for me. Like we were made for each other."

Your heart seizes at that, and all words get stuck in your throat when Jungkook picks up the pace of his thrusts, both hands going to your chest to cup your breasts.

Jungkook presses his chest to your back, practically molding himself around your body, you're starting to feel as one. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, lips on your sweaty skin.

"I might not last long," he grunts.

"Me too," you mewl. It stays silent for a while, just both your breaths filling the room. It's not like you need to say anything, to be vocal like you both usually are. It's different this time and you know Jungkook can feel it too. With the way his body is pressed to yours, to his tight hold on you like you might disappear into thin air if he lets go, how his mouth never seems to leave your skin, how your hand holds his. Like you're too overwhelmed with the events that happened today, the past few weeks—since this started. That it's all coming to an end, but an end with a new beautiful beginning. It feels overwhelming because you're entering new territory. You still have your doubts (you don't think those will ever leave), but at least now you're on the same page with Jungkook. Together. Jumping into the unknown. Even if you're not sure how this will turn out—being together with him, for real this time. If it'll end in greater heartbreak or will be your best decision yet. But you're here because you want to try. You've let him in because you want to try. Because your heart has been with his from the start, you realize.

You're brought back to reality when Jungkook brings his hand up to wrap around your throat—not tightly, a hold barely there but firm enough to know he has you in his hold. You stare at yourself again in the mirror, at Jungkook moving his hips from behind you. How you're so pressed into each other.

"Jungkook," you choke out, suddenly so overwhelmed and full of emotion. His gaze shifts from your body to your face, looking at you through the mirror so intently you feel like melting. You move your hips back to meet his thrusts, your body feeling like it's on fire and that you might snap soon. "Kook, I—"

"I know, baby," he murmured. "I know." Knows that you're close, that this moment feels different, electrifying. "I got you, okay?" he whispers so sweetly. You lean your head back against his shoulder. "Let go for me. Hm?"

"Okay," you whisper, eyes closing and focusing on doing just that. It doesn't take you much longer to reach your peak, to let go and let the pleasure take control of your body. It comes to you gradually, getting stronger and stronger, and Jungkook talks you through it all. Though you can't make out his words since everything sounds so muffled. Like you're under water and the wave's crashed.

"Gonna come too," he grunts. "You're so beautiful when you come, baby. I can't—"

Jungkook reaches his orgasm after and fills up the condom. Fucks you so slow and deep through his high it sets you off once more. Don't realize that his finger is rubbing your clit slowly. Like he wanted you to reach your high again.

"That's it," he whispers. "So good for me."

You almost fall face first on your bed, but Jungkook catches you with a hand around your waist. Moves you around the bed so that you're laying on your back with him right beside you. You curl into him instantly as his arm wraps around your shoulder. He brings his lips to the crown of your head and places a gentle kiss.

You close your eyes and listen to the beat of his heart slowing down, focusing on the rise and fall of his chest. "We need to clean up soon," you mumble after a while.

"I'll do it," he mumbles back. "Let me just— Let me catch my breath first."

You laugh lightly, your body slowly succumbing to sleep. You feel Jungkook stand up and for a second your heart seizes in your chest. You keep your eyes closed while you try to listen for any sounds of clothes being picked up, of him getting dressed.

All you hear is your bathroom door being open then closed, then you feel a damp washcloth between your legs, and only then does your heart start beating again. Jungkook's back beside you in bed a few moments later, and then you finally succumb to sleep.

..••°°°°••..°°••....••°°..••°°°°••..

An alarm wakes you up the next morning. You know it isn't yours since it's not the usual ringtone you use. You open your eyes slowly and smile sleepily at Jungkook's arm draped across your waist. You look back to see him sleeping peacefully, mouth slightly ajar. You reach your arm out to your beside table to look for the noisy phone, realizing it's Jungkook's when you bring it close to your face to turn off the alarm.

You notice he's gotten a few notifications since last night, are about to place it back on your table when a text stands out to you. Waking you up fully. Your tummy churning, your breath seizing.

You can't see the preview of the message, but the name is enough to leave you feeling dizzy.

It's from Iseul. You know her because she's one of Jungkook's regulars. And you know this because she texts him a lot, her name always popping up in his phone. Not that you secretly went through it before, but sometimes Jungkook likes showing his phone to you and your friends, either of a cool photo he took lately or some random meme.

You try to stop your thoughts from thinking of the worst, but you can't help it. You and Jungkook haven't talked much about your relationship, because there is a lot to talk about. You know it won't all be fixed in one sitting. So you don't know if they're still seeing each other. You don't know if he meant what he said last night.

You start feeling ill, your palms sweating and your head beginning to pound. You find yourself standing up, getting dressed and grabbing just your phone with you. Never mind the fact that you're leaving Jungkook yet you're in your place. That he might still be here when you're back, whenever that will be. For the first time since you started this thing with him, you leave without saying goodbye.

[redhead-batgal]

Type: One-Shot (First part- Drabble) {If you want things to make sense you probably should read it, the first part, 😁😁😁}

Pairing: Fem! Student! and Soulmate! Reader x Damian Wayne/Robin

AU: Soulmate! Reader

Content: Swearing, angst, teenage stupidity, aged up kiddos 16/17, technical talk about soulmates, lowkey frustrations, some much angst yall, some fluff, mythology, toxic parents, and soul crushing

Word Count: 7,233

(P.S: Okay so this is going to be continuing from the I Feel a Sin Coming On drabble, I've been getting a few comments on it asking for a part two and someone sent in a request for a Shy and Smart Student! Reader with Damian and let's just say the gears in my head started turning. Anyways this could go on if you guys want it to, but it could also end like this! It will break you. I hope you all enjoy! :D)

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While, unfortunately, it's true the somewhat cruel existence of soul mates was around and kicking, love- true love was still there. Or at least it was believed to be there. It supposedly thrived even more for some reason. Some speculated that it was because there was a standing of everyone deserving love. Whether they were good or bad or in-between, they got someone who would love them for the rest of their life regardless of all the mistakes they made or continue to make. Others said it was because the universe deemed people good enough to have someone for the rest of their lives. Which seems a little close minded for a society in which everyone has a soulmate. But maybe that was because of the belief that if things didn’t work out with your soulmate- if you didn’t love them as you should or didn’t get the love you thought you deserved- it was because you weren’t good enough. Weren’t good enough to get the right kind of love. But in the end soulmates do exist. They exist and are for everyone. For each person you pass on the road, there is someone out there for them. Just as there's someone out there for you.

But the daunting notion that you have to be the right kind of good to get your perfect love chilled you to the bone. After all, if it wasn’t perfect what did that say about you? Because in the end weren’t they made for you? Maybe that’s why some still believed in true love, that it was real. Both because of and not because of soulmates. Rather because of the concept. Someone made just for you. Even if that person was flawed-if you are flawed, just as they were made for you, you were made for them. But sometimes, what is made for you can harm you a lot more than what’s not. 

It was why you believed that the reason true love might still exist was actually because some people fell for their soulmate before they realized they were fated to be. Before that dreaded bond-that agonizing pull kicked, of their own free will they fell in love. Because they didn't have to suffer through the pull of a bond they never wanted, these people were blissfully ignorant of what forced love was like. They did not know the horrors of those forced to stay with someone their heart loved but mind did not. And despite all your animosity towards soulmates, despite your fear and hatred, what made this all the worse-all the more ironic-was that you were technically one of those people. 

Before you even knew what a soulmate was to you-before you were old enough to recognize the pull, to feel, it’s dark and fervent demand for attention-you fell for him. For his laugh: in the way he tilted his chin back as if trying to suppress its joyous sound and his smile: in the way the corners of his would curve showing a slight dimple in his left cheek and revealing the softness his eyes could have. For his kindness: in the way he disregarded what others said and lived his life freely as himself despite the demand of society for him to be like the rest-to be normal. For his mortality: in the way he would never allow bullies to pick on others around him, even if he thought they needed to toughen up. But most importantly for the way he tried each and every single day to learn more and be better even if you’re the only one who noticed. For the way he seemed to be all what you dreamed, something that should have caused you suspicion but instead drew you in. 

That is until your 13th birthday and, much like many before you, you felt the tug of that dreaded bond.

You were six when you decided to loathe soulmates. Six when you swore on your very soul- your existence that you would never love your soulmate. You swore to live in misery of your own making rather than fates. No matter who they were, you would hate them.

But fate... well fate hated to be tested. So, fate did the worst thing it could. It made you fall for the one person you swore never to.

Your soulmate.

Your very own soulmate who seemed like the only light in the dark and suddenly you began questioning whether or not these feelings- these emotions you had thought were your own and genuine- were actually yours. Or if they were just fate pulling its strings and making you dance and dance and dance.

To say you were upset was an understatement and... well let's just say fate might be prideful, but you were twice as petty.

At age thirteen you shoved the emotions you had so dearly cherished so deep in your chest they seemed like nothing more than echoes of naive mind. You distanced yourself from him and only let yourself feel in your loneliest of moments.

Four years, it had nearly been four years since you had begun your battle against fate. And- and and fate was getting stronger... as you have been told. The older you get- the closer you are to your soulmate, the stronger the bond is.

Those moments... those lonely moments happened more often, and those stupid annoying emotions rose up with the beating of your traitorous heart.

Which is exactly how you ended up in the last place you ever wanted to be. Face to face with your soulmate... with them recognizing you and what you were to them.

"I'm your soulmate." Damian Fucking Wayne said his eyes locked on you as you felt your heart jump to your throat and all the color drain from your face.

"Fucking shit, " You whispered, unable to break his gaze.

Shaking-hand shaking and heart pounding at your rib cage demanding you acknowledge him-that you give in and tell him he’s right. That you are soulmates and let fate drive you. But there was something fate and your treasonous heart seemed to forget. You were one petty bitch. 

Weakly smiling you let out a nervous laugh and turned, avoiding eye contact. Eyes darting around they finally settled on your bare wrist as your other hand scrambled to gather your things against your trembling chest.  

"Oh- my,” Your voice cracked as you shoved your things into your bag, “would you look at the time! I need to get going." 

Fingers racing over the items in your bag you went to zip it close and make your escape when your eyes rested on your final item. The book you were reading earlier. Which just so happened (damn you fate) to be right in front of Damian. Eyes raising to him, gazes latching for just a moment you did the one thing you should not. You looked down, down and back at your book before making the stupidly impulsive decision to lunge for it. Your fingers brushed the cover, nails barely scraping lines into it when a hand-warm and firm clasped around your wrist. Pulling you back towards the table in a quick tug that caused your stomach to slam against the tables side. Wincing you stabbed your nails into your palm, not daring to look up. You had fallen for his trap, the oh so obvious trap you could have avoided had you just not looked at him. 

"I'm your soulmate," He said again, his voice clear and stanch as he gently pulled on your arm, clearly trying to get you to meet his eyes, "and you are mine."

Soulmate- God why did you have to care about him. Why- why-did it have to be him? Why-

why couldn’t fate just leave you alone?

Something about the tone of his voice made your heart shatter. It was almost desperate, but you couldn’t-you couldn’t allow yourself to be weak. After all, you would not let fate win. Petty- you were so violently petty and prideful- oh even fate knew this yet- it still tried... this- you wouldn't let this stand. You could-no would not allow fate to get away with even attempting this. Taking a breath in-a deep breath- you raised your chin. Steadying your mind with the thoughts of your parents, of how you needed to be around them. Calm, poised, emotionless. Ignoring the well of tears in your throat and the pressure behind your eyes you finally met his gaze. 

Green. All you could see was those beautiful green eyes, wide and desperate. Yearning-yearning for you to give a reply. But the one you were about to give would only hurt those eyes, regardless, it needed to be done. One pain- one moment or time of pain and sorrow was far better than a life of them. 

Slowly letting out the breaths you previously let in you tilted your head, feeling his grip on your wrist lightening. 

“I do not have a soulmate," You began instantly seeing the surprise on his face-the confusion, so you continued, “I won’t have one. Not you. Not anyone. You see, I don't believe in soulmates. So, I do believe you are mistaken.” 

His grip dropped but seeing the broken look on his face made your facade crumble in an instant as your heart screamed to stop. To comfort him. To take back your words and press yourself into his arms. But you were smarter than that, even if you weren’t strong enough to hide the tears anymore. Throat bobbing, you felt your mouth tremble as your eyes stung and something warm began spilling down your cheeks. 

Pulling yourself away from him, you smiled a bitter smile, not even daring to acknowledge the tears you were shedding. Head high, you turned. 

Voice cracking, you bid farewell, “Now, if you excuse me, I have to get going.”

Feet scrambling you nearly dashed out the door, leaving the book that got you into this mess behind. After all, it was now only going to hold harish and painful memories. 

As soon as your feet touched the gravel, you ran. Tears freely spilled down your cheeks and you sobbed and panted. Mind trying it’s best to soothe the heart that had just torn itself into pieces. But there was nothing it could do. There was nothing you could do but cry and run. Run away from him. From all the pain you had and were going to feel. It was hell, yes. But at least it was yours. At least you knew how and why it had happened, at least you knew what was to come. At least you were still you right?

By the time you had finally calmed your tears-though your heart was still howling, you had made it home. Wiping your tears you took a deep breath in and held it, hoping it would steady your mind and breathing enough to face what was about to come. You hesitated for a moment, then let the breath out wiped your face again and walked up to the door. It was then you heard the shouting. The rage filled voices cursing at each other, dishes and shoes flying, shattering and knocking things about. 

Hand trembling you pushed down the doorknob and walked in. The barrage of insults and dissonance of things being thrown slammed into you. Your feet shuffled across the floor as you saw the shadows in the kitchen, too caught up in their most recent argument to even acknowledge your existence-that is until they came into view. 

“God you never listen!” Your father roared

“Better than sitting on my ass doing nothing all day!” Your mother countered

Quivering you slowly moved towards the staircase as their fight pushed into the living room. Your father’s hands waved as your mother rolled her eyes at him, arms crossed. 

“Really that’s how you’re gonna be?”

“Yeah it is.”

“Fine then, I’ll just take this lazy ass of mine and leave!”

“GOOD!”

With that your father turned and stormed past you straight out the door, slamming it behind him. You flinched and turned to see your mother staring at you. 

“Ugh! I can’t believe him,” She hissed before she shook her head, scowling, “absentee father, sitting on his ass all day while I make the money and take care of the needless kid. God, pregnant at 18- now married to that loser! My life went down the drain. If only it weren't for you...”

Those words stabbed at your heart, sinking in their little daggers in the spots they knew best. You knew she didn’t mean for you to hear them, but you always did.  It wasn’t the first time you had heard things like this, but it did seem to hurt all the more due to what happened earlier this afternoon. Sniffing slightly, you lowered your head and your voice cracking as you had to fight off more tears whimpered,

“I’m sorry mom.”

As if a flip switched your mom’s brown furrowed and scowl dropped. She looked you over, concern in her eyes and she took a step forward. 

“Are you okay honey? You don’t sound too good.”

Raising your head you tightly smiled and nodded, “Of course, just stressed cuz of school. I’ve got some exams coming up and it’s causing my emotions to be all over the place.”

She nodded eyes raving over you, resentment heavy in them as she plopped onto the couch with sigh, “Okay, you better be doing good in school alright? Don't want you to end up like that louse of man your father is.”

You nodded again, “Of course! Actually I was about to go and study.”

“Good, you do that.” She replied as she picked up the remote and flipped on the T.V.

You paused, for just a moment watching her as the resentment began to slide from her eyes, her face softening. She was so pretty, yet harsh lines from constant scowls and frowns bore their way onto her cheeks. Line surrounded her eyes from the tears and sleepless nights. And it was all because of you. Turning, your hands tight on your bag, you raced up the stairs, dashing towards your room where you collapsed onto the ground the second the door was closed. Hand against your face you pressed your head against the door and bit your lip. You did not have the luxury of more tears.  

Turning you found yourself looking at your own reflection. The combination of your mother and father. The perfect combination. It made you wonder what they saw when they looked at you. Did they see a reflection of themselves? Or just an echo of the person they loathed to love. You knew for a fact they never saw you, just you. It was always tied with one or the other. You could tell because today your mother avoided your eyes, that was because you had your father’s eyes. So today, she must have seen him in you. At least until your hair covered your face-her hair- and she saw herself. Maybe that’s why she softened; you didn’t truly know. They loved you, yes. But only because they saw themselves in you. Because on the good days, they saw each other. Because in a way you were them. What hurt the most though, was not when they saw each other or themselves in you. But the fact that they would never see you. And if your parents, the people who were supposed to love you the most, the people who brought you into this world could never see you, who could? 

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It had nearly been a week since you last saw and denied being soulmates with Damian Wayne. In said period you spent your free time dodging Damian and all his friends as well as digging your nose into every soulmate lore, history or origin you could find. While you didn’t want a soulmate, that didn’t mean Da- you soulmate should suffer because of it. So, you had made it your mission to discover if there was any way you could break the bond now. Research had told you that if one party ignored the bond for long enough it would fade for the other. But you didn’t know how long that would take and merely telling Damian you weren’t soulmates tore you up so badly that the mere sight of him sends you into tears. Therefore, you needed to find a way to break the bond. Both for yourself and for Damian. 

But as far as you could tell it was impossible. Every single myth, origin and lore of soulmates explained them as the other half of each other, inseparable even incomplete without the other. Part of you hated that thought. That you were incomplete without your soulmate. Because weren’t you a person, able to function live, laugh and love all on your own? Without a soulmate? Only Greek mythology even considers you as whole without your soulmate. Though it does say that they are meant to be together and once they meet they will not want to part. Which did not read well for your plans. In Chinese mythology there was the Red String or Red Thread of Fate 

A tangible string, perhaps it was something that could be broken. But from what you read it could not, at least you could not cut it or tear it with your hands. It cannot be broken. It cannot be broken. It can-

Taking a deep breath in, you rubbed your brow. It didn’t really make sense to you that the string or thread or whatever it was couldn’t be broken. It also didn’t make sense that a soulmate was to be bound to you for life. Logically speaking there had to be a loophole. Afterall no one feels their bond until they are thirteen. If you were truly bound for life, you would always feel it. Therefore, there must be a workaround. A way to break the bond or someone- or someone to break it- to remove it. 

Since it is not there from the beginning it cannot be like in the Greek, Jewish or Hindu myths. But it might be connected to that string of fate theory. And there was one person who you could think of that might be able to remove or break the bond. The very person who put it there. And if the Chinese myth is right it’s Yuè Xià Lăorén or Yuè Lăo. But as far as you could tell no one was meeting old men at night right before their thirteenth birthday. 

It felt like a lost cause. You doubted anyone actually ever seriously tried to break their soulmate bond. No one ever seemed to have your determination or rather stubbornness. Most people would have surely given up by now, but you desperately needed a way. Because despite how much you hated it, how much it made you hate yourself. You couldn’t help but love him. And it terrified you. 

Your parents started out in love and now they were-... it’d be difficult to say what they had was anything other than torture. Day in day out fighting. Yelling and screaming. Shouting. Such anger at someone they were supposed to love. It made you wonder, were they really in love? Were they really supposed to be each other's happy ever after? Each other's eternity? If so, what did that mean for you? Did that mean you were doomed to be stuck in the same cycle of love turning to hate? Did that mean that you were going to lose a love you always told you had? Did that mean that you were going to die unloved? It was a fear- your biggest if you were being honest. That the person who was supposed to love you forever, doesn’t really love you. And you could take the chance. Not with what you knew- what you’d seen. There was no way in hell you were ever going to let that happen.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

It was truly unfortunate that you just so happened to have a mother deeply involved in her job. One that resulted in her dragging you to a gala because she needed to show she had the perfect little family. What a joke. A cosmic joke as said gala was happening at none other than Wayne manor. And its host? You guessed it,  Bruce Wayne himself with his gaggle of children all in attendance. How did you know this? Well, your eye caught one of the many children. The one you were trying your hardest to avoid. 

Damian Mother Fucking Waye.

And it seems you caught his eye as well, because the second he looked in your direction his face lit up. That is until you turned away from him, the next you saw the color drained from his face and he practically stormed out of the room. Though any random bystander would have thought he calmly exited, you knew better. Which was valid considering you had basically spit in his face and said he wasn’t good enough. But it still hurts. Nowadays it seems that everything hurts. Though it was all probably due to the bond you were so determined to reject. 

So, to dull the pain you clung to the walls of the ballroom. Heavily nursing the glass of champagne you snagged from an unassuming waiter. It had been probably close to two hours since you arrived and you hadn’t even gotten halfway through it, however you most definitely did not want your parents to see. You were underaged and they wanted to keep their ‘perfect’ image intact. Which is partially the reason why when the people began to make their rounds around the ballroom, you decided to slip out. Though you abandon your drink, you thought wandering around the manor’s halls might help you relax even if it was only a little bit. 

Wandering down the darkened corridors you listened to the faint music that trailed after you as you got further and further away from the ballroom. Night encompassing each hallway you turned down it wasn’t long till the sounds of the strings playing was nothing more than a faint humming like the buzz of a fly. Darkness and silence swallowed the area-well near silence. The creaking and settling of the manor seemed to be the only sound. That is until you hear a clattering and an all too familiar voice cursing in another language. 

Maybe, it was due to the slight buzz those sips of champagne gave you-maybe it was the exhaustion from the days of fighting off your feelings-or maybe it was because the pull was just too strong; you walked towards the sound and pushed a door open to find a disheveled Damian Wayne sitting in on a couch, a bottle of whisky clutched in his hands, a crystal glass at his feet with half melted ice cubes surrounding it. 

He did not seem to notice your presence, so you slowly began to venture closer. Noticing his messy hair, unbuttoned shirt and missing tie. Why did he have to look so damn beautiful? Better hearing his mutterings which were half in English, you pause to listen. 

“Seems like Todd was correct,” He mumbled as a hiccup stalled his sentence, “this does improve everything… or perhaps not.” 

His body shifted as he hiccuped again, and had you not seen it yourself you would not have believed that the high pitched sound came from him. It almost made you laugh, but you were able to restrain yourself and move closer. This time, it seems Damian heard you as his head snapped in your direction. He blinked a few times almost as if he was trying to get water from his eyes. Head tilting he narrowed his gaze, voice slurring as he asked, “Y/N?”

Sighing you nodded and walked even closer until you stood in front of him. Smiling slightly you waved and took a deep breath in before replying, “Hi Damian.”

He blinked more, brow furrowing as he muttered something you could not catch. Sinking deeper into the couch he gave you a blank look. 

“So have you come to inform me of our ‘non-existent bond’? Because I assure you if you do not wish to discuss it with me I will leave it alone.”

You raised an eyebrow and crouched so you could be eye level with him. Meeting his eyes you found yourself once again admiring their beauty.

“Really? Then thank you. I appreciate that.” You paused concern stirring so strongly in your chest you couldn’t help but let the worry take hold, “ But I’m not here for that.” 

Damian sat up glaring at you and you did not move, swallowing as he got a bit closer. 

“Then what are you here for?”

“I’m worried about you.”

As if it was instinctual, he replied, “And who's fault is that.”

Though he winced afterwards despite you merely sighing at his comment. Resting your chin on your knees you gave him a sad smile and nodded. 

“You’re right… I owe you an explanation.”

Heart in your throat you met his eyes again and asked, “Would you let me give you one?”

Silence thrummed between the two of you for a lot longer than you would have liked. His gaze not leaving your face as you took a deep breath in and let it out. You should have done this from the start and at the very least if things go awry he probably won't remember any of this. 

His hand gesturing to the place next to him he said, “Sit.”

You snorted and rose to your feet. Then the seat next to him shifted a bit awkwardly before you turned to him. He looked at you out of the corner of his eyes as he took another swig from the bottle. It stung far more than you would ever admit seeing him like this. But- but it would fade. It will fade. He won’t be like this forever. He won’t. 

“So… I should probably tell you why I don’t believe in soulmates.”

He grunted in reply, and you weakly laughed, “I-hmm… this is rather hard to explain. You see my parents are soulmates and they-”

You stopped yourself, watching as he stared across the room. Realizing that telling him about this was letting him in. And you could not let him in. Biting your lip you swallowed, squeezing your eyes shut as you once again fought off tears. 

“I really don’t like their relationship. I hate it. And and to me it seems everyone with a soulmate is miserable. They aren’t happy. Shouting, arguing, fighting. I will not risk the chance of being like my parents. I refuse.”

He was looking at you now. Brow furrowed and the bottle slipped between his fingers. Your voice cracked and you winced, swallowing as you shrugged. 

“I- i am a coward. I refuse to take any chances because I don’t want to get hurt.”

The unspoken ever again hung on your lips as your parents' rage flashed through your mind. Fingers picking at one another you looked down. Unable to keep eye contact without crying. 

“I’m scared and- and worried and and I- I’m so sorry. You deserve better and i-”

His hand was over your mouth and you blinked in confusion looking up to see him pinching his nose, bottle still in hand. 

“Please silence your excuses.” Damian snapped, “I will not hear anyone talk about you that way.”

Something jolted in you and you froze, tears springing to your eyes, you nodded and he removed his hand. Fingers darting to wipe away tears you began to turn from him. His hand batted your fingers away and cupped one of your cheeks. The other still clutching the whiskey bottle half cupped the other. Damian pressed his forehead against yours and looked you in the eyes. 

“I care not that you are a coward. I care not that you are running away. I understand your unease, I understand your logic. But I disagree. I can do no better than you, my soulmate. My other half. I will be here for you and will ease your fears, I will drive your worries away and treat your scars. Emotional or otherwise. I am here for you. I do not know what I have to do for you to understand I am yours. Whole and solely yours. As you are mine. Please- I beg you. Tell me what I must do for you to allow me to love you to my fullest capacity.” 

Unable to look away, your heart taking control as that bitter bond turned soft and sweet you began to cry. Tears spilling down your face, you pressed your forehead more against his, words slipping from you before you could even think. 

“Be forever mine and let me be forever yours,” You whispered. 

Something softened in his eyes, a warmth in them you desperately wanted to see but hoped you never did. He began to lean in a slight smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as his hands shifted, the bottle falling from his grasps as he muttered,

“Was that ever in doubt?”

You tilted your head and his lips pressed against yours. He tasted of bitterness, a darkness that burned so sharply it had you clinging to him. Hands bunched in the cloth of his shirt you found yourself leaning in. His arm wrapped around your waist and as he pulled you in tighter, body shifting as he couldn’t get you close enough. As if there wasn’t a way to hold you where he was near enough. It was as if he wanted to shift-sinking-melting completely and totally into you. 

Air, you had no air left, but who needed air? He was here. His touch gentle and constant, reassuring as he pressed against you, gripping you as if he was terrified the second he let you go, you would disappear. And he was right. 

You broke apart both gasping for air and his grip loosened. Foreheads pressed against each other he smiled, a smile that sent your already raging heart racing. His hand rested against your cheek, fingers playing with your hair. Squeezing his eyes shut he muttered,

“I love you.” 

Your heart skittered and-

Tug, there was a tug a mother fucking tug that made your whole-body ache. One that stole the air you had just barely regained. One that sent shivers up your spine and knocked some sense into you. 

You couldn’t breathe. Standing up suddenly, your head spun. Blinking a few times as tears sprang into your eyes you shook your head. 

“I’m sorry,” You whispered, “I'm sorry, I’m sorry.” 

And with that, you bolted from the room. Faintly hearing Damian calling after you, you rush down the hall brushing past a butler whose name you think is Alfred. He gives you a soft smile and you nod, quickly wiping away the tears. He paused but you kept moving. You had to get out of here. You had to get out of here now. No matter what it took. 

Feet nearly tripping over the other you stumbled back into the ballroom. There would be hell to pay later, you knew it. But if you stayed any longer you could get hurt beyond repair. Allowing the feeling of everything that had just occurred loose, you promptly burst into tears as you stumbled towards your stunned parents. Your mother frantically moved to you as your father’s eyes widened and he began speaking to the people before them. 

“Y/N, Y/N honey we’re in front of a lot of people. Can this wait?” Your mother whispered as she got closer.

Sniffling you collapsed into your mother’s arms, feeling her embrace again for the first time in nearly a decade. Trembling as sobs escaped you, you were able to get out. 

“I want to go home. Please. Please. Let me go home.” 

At first, she didn’t reply, then she began moving you towards the door. 

“Alright. Alright. Let’s get you home.”

She did not even turn in your father’s direction. After all, they had done what they always do, taken separate cars. Unable to quell the tears, you let your mother guide you out the door before he came to pull you back into fate’s vicious plot.

_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~

Two days, you hadn’t left your room in two days. Not that your parents had noticed, not that anyone really did. You doubted anyone noticed your absences from class. You hoped no one would notice truthfully. You couldn’t bear the thought of seeing his face again. It was driving you crazy. So you locked yourself in your room and hoped-prayed-that these growing feelings would just die. Or maybe you could just die. That sounded like a solid solution as well. It was part of the reason why despite the late hour, despite living in Gotham you had unlocked and opened your window. 

There was a sound that awoke you, yanking you from the nightmares that never seemed to cease. And as you opened your eyes to the familiar shapes and silhouettes in your room you found one that did not belong there. 

"Who are you?" You whispered to the woman hiding in the shadows, not really caring if acknowledging her would lead her to strike. 

After all, who would lurk in the shadows of someone's room while they were sleeping unless you planned to kill them. It was a relief of sorts, that you were more than likely going to die soon. It would help you feel less guilt about Damian, about the situation that occurred a few nights before and the feelings that refused to listen to reason. 

Stepping into the moonlight the woman towered before you. Half her face tilted towards the light and you blinked twice almost recognizing it- but- but that couldn't be possible. There was no way you knew this woman. You hardly knew anyone, let alone an murder or assassin who would sneak into sleeping peoples rooms. 

"You don't have to worry about that.” She replied in a soft voice, her accent reminding you of something-something…something! 

You just couldn’t quite place your finger on what though. It nagged and nipped at your mind, tugging and swirling in faint recognition you could not connect. 

The woman took a step forward, her black hair swaying as she crossed her arms, her tone sharp and barbed, “I think who you are is a more important question.”

Her gaze did not leave you and you adjusted your blanket before glancing towards the open window almost blankly saying, 

"Nobody special I can assure you."

This caused the woman’s posture to relax a little. She hummed slightly as you crossed your legs and set your elbows on your knees. 

"Hmm, really?"

Nodding you rested your face in your hands as you looked at her shadowy figure. She seemed kind, in a way. She was at least talking to you before killing you. That was something was it not? 

"Just the byproduct of fate's meddling and destructive hands."

"Ah, your parents are soulmates?' Her stance relaxed even more and you noted how from what you could see her outfit was nothing like the things the Gotham vigilantes wore. 

"Unwilling but yes, soulmates." 

It was more of a snort than a reply, but it didn’t seem to phase the woman as she rested herself on your desk the moon light allowing you to see the curve of her jaw and shape of her nose. Familiar features that made your gut churn. 

"Oh, oh. I see. They did not choose-"

"To have me?” You interrupted with a sigh, shrugging you nodded, “I guess you could say that."

Silence followed and you saw the woman’s eyes narrow. She crossed her arms again, stance tightening. 

"... you do not seem the type to share your innermost troubles with a stranger, why are you talking to me?"

Pulling your face from your hands you gave her a shrug as a yawn slipped from your lips, "Well, for one I think you're here to kill me and two... I've needed to tell someone for a while. Why not a perfect stranger?"

"Your parent's fate troubles you that much?" Her voice seemed to begin carrying concern, which only troubled you because it made you think there would be a possibility she wouldn’t kill you. 

"They are living proof- hell I am living proof that soulmates shouldn't be forced together…” You paused crossing your arms with a scowl, “and because fate is cruel, I have a soulmate too. Despite how awful they are."

"Your soulmate is awful?"

Something in her tone said she did not believe what she was asking in the slightest. Which was true, yet it still caused that buzzing familiarity to ring just a bit louder. 

"n-no, he's not.”

Squeezing your eyes shut you sighed deeply, running your hands along your face, “ He's kind and- and all I could ask for but- but... how do I know he's all I want? How do I know any of this- any of my feelings are mine? How do I know that it isn't fate pulling my strings and wanting me to dance? How do I know he won’t leave? That the bond will only become apparent when we fight and won’t exist otherwise? When the love is gone and only the bond remains? How will I know that I won’t be abandoned again? That I won't be hurt again? That I will gain a love that will last? I won’t.  Not to mention even if I didn't like him... I would have to be with him."

"No,” The woman scoffed, “you wouldn't, dear."

"Yes, I would. My parents- they tried and now- now I live in the shambles of a home. They are together because of that damned bond even though they hate each other." You were crying now, of course you were, "fate does not like to be ignored and I don't like to be told what to do."

Angrily grabbing a tissue you blew your nose, faintly hearing the woman laugh. From what you could see, she had a look in her eyes that seemed soft- understanding. One you most certainly did not expect your killer to have. 

"Oh my, really?" She mumbled head turned towards the window. 

"Yes! I'd rather live in a hell I have control of, a hell I made rather than one fate forced upon me. If- if I ignore it enough... I heard it will fade for him, I- I will still feel it but- but because he tried, he will be spared. He'll have a chance- one I never had. And though- though I can't truly tell if these feelings are mine, it's all I want. I love him. I love him”

You stopped yourself trembling as you said it yet again, “I love him.”

Nodding you continued on, “and… I want him to be happy without me. Because- because I won't give way to fate, not even for him."

"Hmmm. I have a question for you.” 

“Yes?” You pulled the tissue box closer to you sure more tears would come. 

“Do you really want to die?”

“Excuse me?”

The woman shrugged, waving a hand, “It’s just, it hardly seems to me that you want to die. Rather it seems like you want to live.”

"What- I, I’m sorry I-." You were at a loss for words. 

She was smiling as she replied with a shrug, “You have told me of a cause you wish to live for, no? To fight against the soulmate bond. While I personally disagree with your choice, I hardly think dying will do anything other than let the bond win.”

“Wha-... I-,” You sputtered, mainly because what she said made sense. 

It made an insane amount of sense. So much so that it had your head spinning. Why exactly did you think dying was the best option? You may not have the best life, but it was yours right? 

“I’m-I’m sorry.” The whisper escaped not entirely directed at the woman but rather just as a declaration in general. 

The tears on your face felt silly and you blew your nose again as the woman sighed. Causing silence to spin about the room until she remarked,

"I believe I should be the one apologizing."

You laughed, wiping the tears from your face, "Why?"

"Because I'm not here to kill you."

Something in you skipped a beat and you shook your head. Of course she isn’t. Who would want you dead after all. You hadn’t done anything that would cause a reason to be killed.

"Oh darn." You snorted, rubbing the back of your hand across your face, "Here I am looking like a fool asking for something I don’t even want from someone who can’t even give it to me. Fate is cruel… Though life does seem crueler."

"Yes," She muttered looking over her shoulder at the window, "indeed it is."

A figure loomed where she looked, a familiar figure in green, yellow and red. The woman smiled at you again and she moved towards him patting him on the shoulder before climbing out the window. 

“It was nice to meet you Y/N.” 

Blinking in confusion you latched onto the vigilante who was now looming in between your room and the outside, "Robin? What are you doing here?"

He sighed, the woman disappearing as he rested on the window frame, "I am afraid it is quite difficult for me to explain at the moment."

"Wha-.... wait-wait."

In the silence of the night, with the slight breeze trailing in from the window where Robin was perched, you felt a tug. A heart wrenching tug you had felt just the other night. A tug that sent aches all over and made your throat tighten.

"...you're-oh."

Biting, you lip you fought off tears as he slowly entered your room. Breathing deeply, you began picking at your fingers before you finally found the courage to look him in the eyes.

He was right in front of you as tears spilled down your cheeks and through sharp stabs of pain you tightly smiled remarking,

"...hi Damian."

He was silent and you bit down harder, weakly you took in a breath. His voice was soft in reply,

"Y/N... are you- are you alright?"

You didn't know what to say. After all, he must have heard something... then again, he might not have but-

"How-" Your voice cracked as you avoided looking at him despite him being so close, but it was hard as you could feel the heat from his body, "how much... How much did you hear?"

His was quiet and you squeezed your eyes shut, heart dropping as you tasted blood. Pain dancing across your lips and air fighting to leave you. A tiny sob escaped you and you took a ragged breath in as you opened your eyes facing him. Rob-no Damian raised a hand and brushed it against your face before he leaned in. His lips almost pressed against your ear he said,

"I heard everything."

Tag List: @andromedaj2003 @thomasbeloved @instabull @zvtanna @daemonnix96 @neon-scenery @ssak-i @achromaticerebus @1lellykins @hyperfixiation-station @legendarylearner18

[lordsukunas]

tldr: bf!yuuji being needy for kisses. please give him a kiss.

cw: none! a buncha fluff ft. protective yuuji moment. megumi cameo (dont ask why). also black-coded!reader !!

a/n: can yall tell i rly like bf!yuuji... its getting outta hand atp, i have like two or three drabbles for him in my drafts, but this might be the only one making it out of there (i have way too many drafts... :p) anyway, hope yall enjoy this lil snippet

“hey.” poke.

“hey, baby.” poke.

“heyyyyy–”

“yuuji,” you huff, but there’s that familiar smile on your face that just makes his grin grow, revealing pearly whites. “i’m tryna read.”

he looks up at you from where his big head is resting on your thighs, and his fingers play with the fabric of your shirt. his shirt, really. “did you give me a kiss today?”

you flip the page. “i did. i gave you one when we went out to eat for breakfast,” (he remembers that because you tasted like maple syrup and strawberries) “and during lunch after i got beat up by maki.” even after five hours and a melted icepack, the bruise on your ass still hurts.

yuuji’s lips curve downward into a little pout. clearly, he was trying to catch you off guard, which was dumb. you’re never gonna miss his scheduled kisses.

“mmm, okay...” he taps his chin in exaggerated thought. “buuuut did you give me one this evening?”

this evening? that’s new.

you place your bookmark in between the pages and set your book down. finally, you’re looking at him, brow raised with a mischievous glint in your eyes. “oh, so we’re doing dinner kisses now?”

a light red dusts his tan cheeks, but he nods. “well... yeah.” a beat. “c’mon, baby, i jus’ want one!” big caramel eyes peer up at you, lips puckered ever so slightly for a kiss.

the sight is adorable, and the part of you that never wants to deny yuuji anything is practically screaming for you to give him that kiss. on the other hand, the little devil on your shoulder is telling you to keep teasing him a little.

unfortunately for your boyfriend, you’re feeling a bit cheeky right now. and you maybe, just maybe want payback for him letting you get your ass beat by maki.

“okay, but if i give you one now, i can’t give you one before curfew.”

yuuji’s jaw drops like you just told him the world’s ending, and he shoots upright, his body twisting on his bed to properly face you. “what?! no, please! that’s not even fair. y’know i need it, otherwise i can’t sleep good and fushiguro gets all mad at me.”

you shrug, barely fighting back a smirk. “then you gotta pick. you either get a kiss now or later. i only have three kisses per day.”

“only three?! babe, tell me you’re not–”

there’s a loud thump against the wall that yuuji’s bed is pushed against, and both of you freeze, his arm shooting out in front of your body.

“can the both of you shut up?” megumi’s voice is muffled, but the irritation in it is crystal clear.

immediately, yuuji’s arm drops and the tension drains out of your bodies. he sighs. “sorry, fushiguro.”

you might have heard a grunt of approval before it falls quiet again, the faint chirping of crickets and the familiar hum of his fan in the background. your boyfriend is still giving you the puppy-dog eyes, practically batting his dark lashes. “pleaseeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee?”

ugh. you’re never gonna win — he’s too cute! plus, megumi is a little scary when he acts like an angry mom.

“fine, c’mere.” you cup his face, bringing his soft pink lips closer to yours. your lips touch, and a burst of energy rushes through you as yuuji places his hands on your hips.

after a few long moments (because heaven knows you can’t help but get a little greedy with him), you pull away, a small grin on your face. “there. is that enough to tide you over until curfew?”

“nope,” he says, and leans right back in for another kiss. you move your head to the side, so instead of connecting with your mouth, his lips press to your cheek.

you tsk, theatrically wagging your finger, which earns a snort from yuuji. “now you’re definitely not getting another kiss. needy self.”

“what?! it’s not my fault you taste good!”

“maybe you just needa have more self-restraint.”

he huffs. “how am i supposed to have self-restraint when it comes to you? that’s like telling a bee not to make honey!”

oh.

heat rushes to your cheeks, and you’re glad it doesn’t show when you blush. how is your boyfriend so unknowingly good with words?!

you pinch his cheek and pray he doesn’t notice the slight strain in your voice. “whatever. let me finish reading, and maybe i’ll think about giving you a kiss before bed.”

“if you finish reading early, do i get extra kisses?” yuuji hands you the book, grinning.

“gotta think about it.”

surprise surprise — he ends up getting extra kisses.

[ma1dita]

my love, mine, all mine

based on this drabble : mean!remus

words: 2.8k

summary: Sometimes is not enough for someone who loves Remus this much. 

warnings: mean!remus x fem!reader !!!! mentions of sex; much angst they both cry, a lot of kisses & a very open ending, situationship blues, remus is a self-deprecating piece of shit!! 

a/n: thank you for the request anon!  i watched the eras tour movie and thought of mean!remus and reader during ‘tolerate it’.... sooo don’t blame me for what you’re about to read. title is from a song by mitski <3 always down to flesh out mean!remus and lovely!reader more if yall want--feel free to send in more requests and comments <3

(posted & edited: 10/15/23)

—

Sometimes he lets you down easy. You’ve memorized his face by now, every minuscule detail and the way it hardens when he makes up his mind. Remus is very deep set in his ways, a creature of habit forced by the resolution of hiding in the nighttime, waiting for the darkness within himself to find him under the light of the full moon. You know the whisper of a smile that dances across his face when he sees you, the way a scar kisses his brow when you surprise him, the mechanical tightness of his jaw when he dissociates himself from your embrace.

There’s a particular way his eyes drop that resembles falling snow and it tells you that he’s about to let you down again, buried under him and his excuses. It’s heavy. You wonder how someone so gentle, so fragile can leave you feeling cold, but you bare yourself to him anyway, trudging through the hope that whatever is between you can be more than sometimes. You know him intimately, wholeheartedly. But does he know you? Sometimes is the keyword here, and yet it is tiring, all of the time.

Your breaking point had to have been something big, something explosive. It had to, or why else would this facade have lasted so long? Why did you let him? Perhaps it was when he kissed your neck after Potions, asking to meet up after dinner. He moved away before you could follow him out into the corridor and joined his friends instead. The boys looked back at you, wanting to wait but Remus kept walking on. Or maybe it was when you woke up in his bed again, his side cold and your clothes folded properly at the edge. Remus was propped against his desk, mumbling that he had a very busy day ahead, and the silence that followed was enough to make you leave. Always good enough to bed, but never wanted by morning. It’s best to act like he wasn’t the one who asked you to stay.

—

None of those moments ruined your perception of him though. It was the lightest feather touch of a reaction that shattered the glass. He was walking you back to your common room after prefect duties, and you squeezed his hand gently, swinging it back and forth.

“D’you want to study for midterms tomorrow in the library? We could try to get that little table in the corner you like…” you said nudging his shoulder. He sighed, and his breath was hot against the crisp winter air as it landed on your cheek. Remus’s silence was your answer, and of course, it hurt. You’d do anything for a half-assed utterance to fill the shrill noise of your hope filling the space between you right about now. But this time was different though. This time he truly didn’t care. Remus looked at you with dead eyes, his mind somewhere far from where you were standing with him.

“Not this time, lovely.” The boy was tired, and so were you. The physicality of it was apparent in the way his posture hung low, and the way your shoulders fell from the emotional avalanche that his lack of effort pushed down on you.

“It’s okay. I hope you get some rest then.” Your eyes study his face, gliding from the crinkle of his temples to the scar on his nose and the freckles across his cheeks. He grimaces at your response. You wonder if any part of him hurts like this too. 

“Will I see you before we leave for winter break? Maybe you have time during the holiday.” Remus speaks quietly as if he’s the one being inconvenienced.

“Maybe,” you say. He makes a noise in recognition of that, nodding with his eyes closed. Stepping away from him, you turn to walk away before he’s behind you, lips against your hair.

“M’sorry.” He mumbles, breathing you in like wafting amorentia. His hands are shuffling through his pocket before he pulls out the wool mittens his mother knit for him the year prior. 

“Shouldn’t let your pretty fingers freeze in the cold.” He puts them on you daintily snapping the buttons closed, his nose against your ear. The corridor is silent alongside the slow thud of your heart. You walk away wordlessly, shoulders pinched like a chill has traveled down your spine.

—

Remus doesn’t see much of you in the days before winter break. Between studying for exams and his monthly run-in with the moon, there isn’t much time to catch his breath. He knows the hold he has on your heart is a devastatingly gory scene. You’ve let him in deeply as he burrows in every fang and claw he has to offer you. And in turn, he takes what he can grab with his razor-sharp touch. He tries earnestly to be gentle but the more of you he caresses, the more blood he has to mop up. 

His fingers are tapping on his forearm methodically as he waits for you outside of Transfiguration. Sorting through his thoughts as he waits for the rest of the class to finish the exam, Remus’ mind always falls back to you. Love is difficult, like many other aspects of his life, you see. He knows he loves his parents and his friends, but it makes him uncomfortable, much like someone undergoing anaphylaxis, to be honest with you. To lay himself out vulnerably to someone like you…He’s worried he’ll scare you off.

Students trickle out of McGonagall’s classroom, and you step out with your friends in tow, babbling about the exam. The feeling crawls up his throat as he tries to say something, but air and any coherent thought escapes him. What he feels for you has been making him do that a lot lately.

“Hey lovely.” he blurts out, body turning as he pushes off the wall in an attempt to catch your eye. But you keep rambling with your friends, throwing an arm over your roommate as you hardly spare him a glance. It’s not until your group reaches the end of the corridor that you look back at him for half a second, lashes fluttering as you turn back to your friends. And his heart is growing desperate, swelling, sighing as you continue to walk away.

—

You left for winter break without saying goodbye. The letters that he made his owl Nougat deliver to your bedroom window almost every day had you running out of treats to give her when she’d try to nip you for sending her back emptyhanded. Poor thing is getting fat. 

Your mother is so intrigued by your behavior that one night as you feed your baby brother a spoonful of mashed potatoes, she asks you something you’ve been wondering yourself.

“Honey, do you have a boyfriend?” The silverware clinks against your plate as you contemplate the answer. How do you explain this to your mother? How do you explain him? Has he hurt you so much that you bare your soul to her in hopes that she’ll put her work away and listen? Yes, but you let him, the little voice in your head says, so the guilt inside you keeps your response prompt.

“I don’t think so,” you say, your lips drawn tightly. Your brother spits out some mash and it dribbles down his chubby cheek as he laughs at the sight of you making faces at him. 

“What a mess, darling. Best clean it up.” You watch your mother’s eyes flit across your face instead of his before she says no more and goes back to cutting into her roast chicken. The napkin across your lap is wiped across his tiny face as you swallow hard.

What a mess, indeed.

After washing the dishes and excusing yourself, you crawl into bed staring at the ceiling. The moonlight shines brightly, a beam of light reflecting on the pile of unopened letters on your nightstand. Turning towards the wall, you shut your eyes and try to fall asleep.

You dream of him often. And in your dreams, he’s always just a little bit out of reach, always running away as you trip over snow-covered cobblestone, arms extended toward him. Though these dreams plague you, the realization hits that dreaming of him is better than your reality. In your dreams, your love is still pure and untouched. When you close your eyes you let yourself be the girl who was hoping at the beginning of it all. 

—-

The day after Christmas a pair of tiny hands shake you awake. Your eyes shift open to see your three-year-old brother peering up at you, hands tangled in your duvet.

“Your fwend is outside,” he whispers almost comically loud as you rub the sleep from your eyelids.

“What?”

“Your fwend is outside. I saw him in the window. He looks cold, sissy.”

You scoop him in your arms, carrying him back into his room and tucking him under the covers before you shuffle out front, watching Remus lean against his beat-up car. Throwing your coat on, you walk down your driveway, meeting him in a flurry of hot breath and cautious smiles.

“You’re not Nougat,” you say, raising an eyebrow at him as you stop short at his feet, crossing your arms.

“She’s almost too fat to fly now. Thought I’d get a message to you myself.” he chuckles, and it makes you remember why you liked him in the first place.

“Fancy a ride?”

He props the door open for you, hand ghosting the curve of your back. As you step past him to take a seat, he pulls you in for a kiss. It makes your knees tremble, having deprived yourself of everything about him for the past few weeks. The kiss sucks you in deeper as you anchor yourself onto the nape of his neck, and he’s moaning into your mouth. You hope your little brother isn’t watching through the window.

He drives you around in silence, neither of you knowing what to say. The heat is on high as he finally stops at the park, and he looks over at you. This time last year, he taught you how to drive here, both of you anxious for two different reasons—you trying not to crash and him discerning if you like him back. You both had sex in the backseat after you got the hang of it, windows fogged up and steamy. 

“Did you read my letters?” he starts, and you sigh before the end of his question. “No,” you mutter, looking out the window.

“Hey…What’s on your mind?” His fingers pull at your chin for you to look back at him, and you jolt back like he hurt you. You lean forward, pressing your palms into your eyes, breathing hard. He’s looking at you like he knows what’s coming, but he still hopes it’s not true. A boy made from Hope and of hope, that’s all he is. But it hurts to hope though. It hurts to hope for more when he knows he’s pushed you past your limits.

“There’s only so much you can expect of me, Remus. I’m just not sure I can do this anymore,” you whisper.

“Do what?” His voice is desperate and he’s hoping you won’t end this, even though you’re well in your right to do so.

“This. Whatever this is. Sometimes it feels like we’re together, but I know we’re not, and um… I’ve lost the plot. You’ve cut me too deep, Remus.” Your bottom lip is trembling as you croak out the words feeling sorry for yourself.

Remus leans his head against the window, knuckles white as he clutches the steering wheel. He’s going to lose you, and he’s petrified. 

“Look, if this is because I haven’t spent time with you at sch–”

“It is. But not just that. There are many reasons,” you cut in, your head tilting as you look at him. “You don’t make time for me, you’re embarrassed to be seen with me half the time. You act like I’m your girlfriend and Remus, you lie, constantly. I can’t keep up with what you throw at me and it’s too much, okay? I’ve let you hurt me for too long.” You get through most of it without hiccupping, but he can’t do anything but watch as you wipe your tears away.

“Do you love me?” he pleads, and if he’s ruined it all by asking that, he can’t tell. His hands run through his hair and he thinks he’s ripped to you pieces at this point. The carnage of the truth sits in his passenger seat as you sit there motionless, staring out the windshield.

“That doesn’t make me yours, Remus. It never has. My love is mine. That’s the only thing you can’t take away from me.”

Remus chokes on a sob as he watches your resolve harden. The windows are fogging up and it’s getting hard for him to breathe.

“I’m so sorry…I just don’t even know how to tell you th—”

“That you have lycanthropy?” Somehow hearing it from your mouth doesn’t scare him. This confession and your candor makes the shame he’s carried with him all these years feel lighter.

“You can say it how it is, lovely. I’m a werewolf. I– The moon shows me who I really am. A monster. I-shouldn’t…I don’t want to hurt you any more than I already have.”

Your hand brushes against his cheek, pressing the tears into the indents of your fingertips as you wipe away his sorrow. He does hurt like you do. And you’d take it all away if you could. 

“A monster doesn’t worry about if they hurt people they love. You didn’t mean to hurt me, did you?”

He sniffs, wiping his nose with his sweater as he shakes his head. Both of you brush over the notion of love. There is a time and place for that, and it sure as hell isn’t right now. He’s being vulnerable to you for once, so you tell him what he needs to hear. 

“You’re not a monster, Remus. You have a big heart, and you’re wonderfully sweet, but sometimes your actions hurt. I know….everything about you. And from the reasons I can’t do this anymore, lycanthropy isn’t even in the top 10.” You lean towards him, noses touching.

“But I never said I regret it.”

You wish you could find better words to tell him he’s not as damned as he thinks he is. That anyone is deserving of love, especially him, but it’s hard to convince him that. Remus surges the small distance to meet your lips, and you can’t help but indulge, because if he’s damned then so are you, pulling him over the console as he sighs in relief. 

—-

Later, he drives you home, one hand on your thigh rubbing circles as you watch his side profile, less taut, but without a smile. The secret’s out, and there’s not much left to do but navigate the bloodbath. He hopes that he’s able to pick up the pieces and do you right. Remus pulls into your driveway and the car engine rumbles lowly as you sit, unmoving.

The door unlocks and he waits for you to make a move. Your hand glides over the door handle before you turn instead to look at him and his hand is extended towards you, a millimeter away from yours.

“I really am sorry. For treating you like shit.” he sighs.

“I know.” A smile graces your lips as you lean in and you kiss him again tenderly, once, then twice. It soothes the tightness of his jaw and he hopes you don’t hate him after all of this. The passenger door opens, and you climb out and look at the sky. It’s snowing. He watches you standing there, snowflakes sticking to your hair. 

“I do love you, Remus,” you admit, biting your lip. “Isn’t that the worst thing you’ve ever heard?” The laugh that follows is humorless, his eyes wide as you shut the door. Trudging your boots through the snow, a shiver wracks your body. You peek back at the car once you get in the house and give him a kind smile before you step in.

Remus sits there with the weight of your devotion. Brave in all aspects but love, he hopes you can wait a little longer for him to catch up. For now, his eyes fall to the passenger seat as he shifts the gear into reverse. His wool mittens occupy the seat. Your hands must be cold again.

—-

“Sometimes, home is not a home, but a claw lodged inside you. A river you step into because it holds light. You are waist deep, wading in what mauls you.”

-Athena Nassar

love me some tunes! i listened to this while writing: my love, mine, all mine by mitski & sleep tight by holly humberstone

taglist: @jsjcue

[raythekiller]

. . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Welcome ˎˊ˗ ⌨

hi!! I'm Ray (they/he/it), hope you enjoy your stay!

(yall can send requests in EN, PT or ES)

˗ˏˋ requests: open ´ˎ˗

╰┈➤ Rules

I write for: (BanningK's) Jeff The Killer, Ticci Toby, BEN, Eyeless Jack, Masky/Tim & Hoodie/Brian (u can request others tho, I'll probably check the creepypasta and write for them anyway, but these are my main ones) (pls request some creepy women I'm begging)

needless to say I won't do stuff like pedophilia, zoophilia, non-con or anything like that. I also won't do yandere for now.

NSFW however is totally allowed.

honestly just don't be weird. if you don't know if I'm comfortable with something, send it in and I'll let you know.

the reader is always gender neutral unless stated otherwise. I'll also write non x reader content (like general headcanons and such)

I also take drawing suggestions (not "requests" cause there's no guarantee I'll actually do it)

I delete asks when I don't have any ideas for them, so if I didn't answer yours, this is why. You can send smth else tho

tags: #ray.writes (for headcanons/scenarios) #ray.draws (for art) #ray.talks.shit (for random asks/ramblings) #oc.lane hellshire (for stuff about my child)

╰┈➤ Masterlist (UNDER CONSTRUCTION)

GENERAL HEADCANONS

- ,, # JEFF THE KILLER MASTERLIST - ,, # BEN DROWNED MASTERLIST

- ,, # TICCI TOBY MASTERLIST

- ,, # EYELESS JACK MASTERLIST

- ,, # LAUGHING JACK MASTERLIST

- ,, # MASKY MASTERLIST

- ,, # Personality HC (Jeff, Toby, Ben, EJ, Masky, Hoodie)

- ,, # Mean S/O With A Soft Spot For Him (Hoodie)

- ,, # Their Petpeeves (Jeff, Ben, Toby, EJ, LJ, Masky, Hoodie)

- ,, # Realizing They're In Love (Jeff, Ben, Toby, EJ, LJ, Masky, Hoodie)

- ,, # Plus Sized Goth S/O (Toby, Masky, Hoodie)

- ,, # Their Ideal S/O (Jeff, Ben, Toby, EJ, LJ, Masky, Hoodie)

- ,, # Their Music Taste (Jeff, Ben, Toby, EJ, Masky, Hoodie)

- ,, # Quiet Reader (Toby, Masky, Hoodie)

- ,, # Reader Who Dissociates (Toby, Masky, Hoodie)

- ,, # Corruption Kink (Hoodie)

- ,, # NSFW Headcanons (Nina, Jason)

- ,, # General Headcanons (Kate, Clockwork, Jane, Nina)

- ,, # Bimbo Reader (Nina)

- ,, # Their Kinks (Jeff, Ben, Toby, EJ, Masky, Hoodie)

- ,, # Reader Sucking In Their Stomach (EJ, Masky, Hoodie)

- ,, # Their Music Taste (Nina, Clockwork, Kate, Jane, Helen)

- ,, # Reader With A Quiet Voice (Toby, Nina)

- ,, # Reader With Narcolepsy (Clockwork, Hoodie)

- ,, # Reader Gets Hurt (Jeff, Ben, Toby, EJ, Masky, Hoodie, Clockwork, Nina, Kate, Jane)

- ,, # SFW And NSFW Headcanons (Lane - OC)

- ,, # Femme S/O (Clockwork)

- ,, # NSFW Alphabet (Nina)

- ,, # Reader Happy Stimming (Toby, EJ, Clockwork, Jane)

- ,, # S/O Making Them Jealous (Jeff, Ben, Toby, EJ, Lane - OC)

- ,, # General Headcanons (Cody)

- ,, # LGBT Headcanons (Jeff, Ben, Toby, EJ, LJ, Candypop, Masky, Hoodie, Cody, Helen, Clockwork, Nina, Kate, Jane)

- ,, # Their Ideal S/O (Clockwork, Kate, Nina, Jane)

- ,, # Jennifer's Body-Like Entity Reader (Jeff, Ben, Toby, EJ, Masky, Hoodie)

- ,, # Reader With Anxiety Tics (Jeff, Ben, Toby, EJ, Masky, Hoodie, Clockwork, Kate, Nina)

- ,, # Reader With A Thick Accent (Jeff, Toby, EJ, Masky, Hoodie, Helen)

- ,, # Innocent-Looking Hypersexual Reader (Toby, EJ, Nina)

- ,, # General Headcanons (Lane - OC)

- ,, # Vampire Reader (Jeff, Ben, Toby, Masky, Hoodie, Clockwork)

- ,, # Reader Who Gets Tired When It Rains (Toby, EJ, Clockwork, Jane)

- ,, # Slendermansion Headcanons

- ,, # Reader Who Uses ASL (Jeff, Ben, Toby, EJ, Hoodie, Jane)

- ,, # SFW Headcanons (Nina)

- ,, # Shy Reader (Jeff, Ben, Toby, EJ, Masky, Hoodie)

ASK GAME

- ,, # Dislikes Headcanons (Lane - OC)

SCENARIOS/DRABBLES

- ,, # Heaven And Back (Hoodie x Prude! Reader) (NSFW/suggestive)

- ,, # Mine (Lane - OC x GN! Reader) (NSFW)

ART

- ,, # Nap time (Sally)

- ,, # Goofy guy (Jason The Toymaker)

- ,, # Lane The Lurker (Lane - OC)

- ,, # Aishite (Lane - OC)

- ,, # Brahms The Butcher (Brahms - OC)

- ,, # Fanservice (Lane - OC)

- ,, # Amigos (Lane - OC, Ghost Boy - OC)

- ,, # Plushie (Lane - OC)

ANONS MY BELOVEDS

🪦 Anon

🫀 Anon

🦇 Anon

📚 Anon

Caliginous Anon

👾 Anon

🔪 Anon

🥩 Anon

🐚 Anon

🧸 Anon

🦈 Anon

Tulip Anon

🦐 Anon

🫧 Anon

🚙 Anon

🐦‍⬛ Anon

🐇 Anon

🌙 Anon

🌻 Anon

🍬 Anon

🗯️ Anon

🍒 Anon

🌲 Anon

[bigdealsgoddog]

I dont know if you take requests but imagine DG with a bratty reader where he buys her anything she wants but one day hehad enough of her behaviour amd just start punishing her by fucking us roughly.Even though it had to be a punishment we still enjoyed it.I hope you can take this request if not its ok.And keep up the good work.

I Do take requests! They just sometimes take me a long ass time cause i get busy very quickly lmaO However if yall wanna see more activity there is the discord server linked in my bio 👀

Anyway I do apologize for this one taking as long as it did, I do have a bit of trouble writing for DG i've noticed But heres a fun little drabble of implied!sugardaddy DG x bratty!reader CW: Blindfolding, Deafening(Earplugs), Implied edging, Choking, punishment, overstimulation, Bondage, Toys, brat taming

You let out a moan as you felt him curl his fingers inside of you, your arms tugging at the rope that bound you to the bed. You couldn’t see anything-making it impossible to know where he was going to touch next as his hand that wrapped around your throat quickly pulled away to pinch and play with your nipples, making you let out your moans loudly.

     What was it that was getting you this treatment? You had to be a damn brat and try to cause problems. Constantly complaining he wasn’t giving you enough attention, whining to him when your outfit wasn’t the right shade you wanted, giving that fake sugary voice you put on when you wanted him to buy you something and your little tantrums you throw when he has to leave for work so he thought he’d put you in your place just like he did anyone else. Taking away your senses. He had you tied down to the bed with your ankles tied down at the ends of the bed making it impossible for you to squirm from his touch. He pulled his fingers out of you, making you whine at the loss of touch as you wiggled your hips. DG pulled away from you completely, leaving you there with nothing. You whimpered for him but you couldn’t even hear your own voice thanks to the damn earplugs he made you wear. It made it so much harder when he grabbed a vibrator, turning it on and pressing it against you. 

    A squeal was ripped from your throat as your back arched and you tugged at your binds, the sensations making your entire body shake as he slowly moved up your body, leaving kisses from your stomach up to your chest before he wrapped his hand around your throat. It was the moment as his hand squeezed around your throat he shoved the vibrator into you that you remembered his warning-his little threat. 

    “You better tell me when you’re about to cum. Cum without telling me and I won’t stop making you cum even if you’re begging and crying me not to-got it?” You could tell he was trying to get you to cum before you could even think of the words as he started to pump the toy in and out of you, squeezing your throat tight enough to cut off your oxygen. As you feel your thoughts begin to grow fuzzy, he let go of your neck and started thrusting the toy harder, making you practically scream “Fuck! Fuck DG-Dg gon-” Before you could finish you threw your head back to let out a moan as you came, your body shaking with the toy as he continued to pump it in and out of you “DG-DG-Too much! Too much!-” Your words are cut off as he squeezed your throat tightly, the message getting itself across 

   “What did I say, brat? You didn’t warn me in time. Beg all you want, I'm not stopping.”

[miss-anachronism]

I posted something yesterday throwing my hat into the ring of Merlin and Valen relationships, and people seemed to like it! These guys are best buds to me, im glad yall see it too. It inspired me to write a little drabble, so here ya go <3 this is Valen and my (fem) Merlin, so it gets kinda specific at parts lol

…

It’s been a long day.

And as much as Valen wishes it were the easier type of long day: boring and uneventful, where he has to drag himself from task to task; it was quite the opposite. Exhilarating, exhausting, and deadly; now he was sinking into a sofa chair in the Mystical house, nursing a spiked drink and a sprained ankle.

It wasn’t even a mishap- he’d launched the attack perfectly, but that godforsaken golem had grabbed his leg at the last moment and slammed him back down into the ground. Lucius said he was lucky to have avoided a concussion. But what does Lucius know, anyway.

All this to say, the entire ordeal has left him grumpy and secluded. He’s tucked into the library, where the din of the bar can’t touch his slowly receding headache. It’s lovely in here, quiet and serene, fresh air drifting through the large open windows on the south wall. The smell of old books mingles nicely with the outside breeze, stopping just shy of being overwhelming. He would have never thought himself a library person; the one in Holistone was lackluster. But Merlin, as she often did, had flipped his conceptions upside down, and provided Valen one of his favourite spaces in her impressive library.

It’s a little ridiculous to expect privacy and solitude from a house that isn’t your own, especially one housing at least five others, but Valen still finds his every muscle tensing when he hears the library door open and close with a soft click.

He exhales slowly through his teeth, trying not to make his disappointment too obvious. He sends his farewells to his peaceful rest, and a quick prayer that whomever has entered isn’t in a talkative mood. He really doesn’t feel up to playing up the charm.

The soft pattering on the floor and the long exhale that come from behind him, however, chases those fears away. The momentary panic slips from Valen’s body, and he glances to the side, grinning when a green, eerie eye catches his gaze.

Merlin grins back at him, though she looks just as tired as he feels. “Hey, sorry. I know you’re hurt, but it’s winding down out there, and I wanted to do some research before I turn in. Hope you don’t mind.”

“Of course not,” Valen chuckles, “It’s your home.”

“Well, yes, but you’re my guest. And if you want me to shut up and leave you alone, say the word and I’ll be gone, no harm no foul.”

“It’s alright, Merlin,” he confirms, slightly surprised that he doesn’t even need to lie, “your company is appreciated.”

She grins at him and sets her own drink down on the small coffee table, and pulls another chair up. “Thanks, Val. I’ll keep it down, promise.”

She’s true to her word, shuffling through a few eclectically stacked books around the floor of the library before settling with three in hand. She puts the biggest one between them, and opens it up to reveal a collection of beautiful woodcuts, depicting various temples across the globe.

Valen lets out a low whistle and leans in, watching as she flips through a few illustrations, and then spins the book around to show him a full two-page print. It takes him a moment to recognize.

“The Moon Temple?”

Merlin nods, her eyes never leaving the paper. “Back in its heyday. We were talking about it, and Dolly mentioned that I should have an old book of prints in here somewhere. I’m lucky I found it so quickly.”

“How old is this book?”

“Four hundred years, give or take.”

Valen half gasps and half laughs, staring at the book in wonder. He’s shocked Merlin even has the balls to touch the thing, let alone open it.

“I can’t believe you just have ancient scripture lying around.”

“Hey, this is far from ancient,” she teases, glancing up to wrinkle her nose at him.

“You’re right, you’re right. It doesnt hold a candle to the oldest artifact in this room: you.”

Merlin sticks her tongue out at him, and Valen returns in kind, before they both return to the book.

The Moon God had been dead for a thousand years or so before this print was made, so the Temple isn’t exactly in perfect condition. Still, it’s a far cry from the decrepit ruins that it’s in today. Beautiful pillars surrounding the pouring, majestic fountains, each flaw and imperfection dutifully recorded… Valen finds himself being drawn in by the skilled execution of the print itself, scanning over the evenly spaces hatching and intricate detailing in the stonework, the water, the attention to values… it’s a beautiful recreation. Valen can even make out the carvings on the pillars themselves.

There’s a little blurb of writing at the bottom of the page, in a language Valen can’t identify. He reaches out to tap at it, stopping just shy of actually touching the book.

“Can you read this?”

Merlin hums in assent. Instead of flipping the book back around to face herself, she stands and moves over to Valen’s side of the table, kneeling next to his chair.

“It’s not much. ‘The Moon Temple, for the greatness and majesty of Nakalig the many-faced…. Cast a moonstone into the divine spring… a chance for divine lunar enlightenment…’ yeah, we know all this already.”

“It’s still interesting,” Valen contests, watching as Merlins finger drifts over the words. “You’ll have to teach me how to read this.”

Merlin scrunches her nose again. “The language is pretty dead, Val. I think you’ll only find Celestials who speak it fluently, nowadays.”

“So? If it’s spoken by Celestials, I’m sure it’s gorgeous. And mysterious. All the more reason to learn it.”

Merlin scoffs. “If you received a love letter written in the old, dead language, would you actually go on a real life date with the sender?”

“A date? I’d bed them on the spot,” Valen jokes, and Merlin throws her head back and cackles.

“Gross, ugh.” She sneers, giggling. Valen grins.

“Thousands of years old, and you still have the humour of a teenager.”

“Shut up,” she huffs, lightly punching him in the shoulder, only for her eye to immediately widen in concern.

“Ah, shit, that didn’t hurt did it? You’re hurt, I shouldn’t be jostling you around.”

“Merlin, babe, do you really think you can push me around?”

“You underestimate me! I could totally beat you up.”

“Mhmm,” Valen chuckles, taking another sip of his drink. Merlin gives him a wry smile.

“Seriously, though, you okay?”

Valen pauses a moment, taking stock of himself. Yes, his ankle still aches, but the spinning pain in his head has thankfully receded. The exhaustion still runs deep in his bones, however; he thinks if Merlin asked him to stand up, he’s simply collapse.

“I’m alright, all things considered,” he settles on, “but tired. Exhausted.”

“Hey, bright idea here! Maybe you should go to bed!”

“A genius, you are.”

“They don’t call me Merlin for nothin’.”

He chuckles. “It’s nice here. I don’t get much time to relax. And the sun’s only just setting,” he waves a hand towards the window, bathed in pinks and oranges, “let me have an hour, at least.”

“Fine,” Merlin conceded, resting her head on the arm of his chair. Dutifully, Valen proceeds to use her head as an armrest. She huffs in amusement.

They stay like that for a few minutes, Merlin lazily flipping through the book, pausing every time Valen leans closer to inspect a print. Eventually, she complains about her neck, and Valen lets up to allow her a slightly more comfortable position.

“I don’t know how to teach languages,” Merlin says suddenly, startling Valen out of his concentration, “but I think, with Hammie’s help, I could teach you a couple phrases and see where it goes from there?”

Valen blinks in surprise. “You don’t have to do that, Merlin.”

She shrugs. “I want to. Gives me something to do. If you want to, of course.”

Valen pauses, thinks it over, takes another long sip of his drink.

“…sure. We’ll see where it goes.”

Merlin nods, and flips the book closed.

“but if I’m a bullshit student, you can’t be mad at me.”

“I’ll never believe you are,” Merlin sniffs, scooping the book up and standing with a grunt. “Deep down, you’re a nerd like the rest of us, Mr. Playboy Solitaire.”

[arlowthenacho]

having thoughts abt carmy with a true crime obsessed s/o

carmen was cooking in the small kitchenette in his apartment, as always. you, on the other hand, were perched on the countertop, chattering away about the new true crime podcast you were binging.

“ok, so basically, this guy is a complete psychopath, as most serial killers are. and he has the sob story of a bad childhood too—“

you cut yourself off midway through your sentence, distracted by the smell of whatever carmy was making tonight.

“oooh, what’s that?” you asked, swinging your legs back and forth in the air, your heels hitting the wooden cabinets below.

“s’just a recipe tina sent me. arroz con pollo, i think it was?” he swipes open the screen of his phone and checks his camera roll, zooming in on the title of the recipe. “yeah, that’s it,”

you smile and hop off of the counter, looking down at the pan on the stove.

“it looks so good, carmy, thank you.” you peck his cheek sweetly and walk back over the countertop, jumping and landing onto its surface.

“anywho, this killer guy, he has the classic ‘abusive dad, absent mom’. thing going on, right? and because of that, he started plotting to murder his family and frame it on his sister—oh i forgot to tell you!”

carmen snorted at your forgetfulness, and you throw a faux-annoyed glare at him, your smile betraying your facade.

“he has a sister who, in his delusional little mind, his parents like better than him.”

“yeah, ok. crazy dude wants to kill his parents and frame the sister. go on, baby.” he kisses your cheek and goes back to setting up the new rice cooker you got him, as his old one was far too old to be considered healthy.

“yeah, and he’s only, like, twelve right now. but anyway—” you’re cut off yet again when carmy beckons you over to try something for him, a little bit of chicken cooked to near perfection.

“open up, sweetheart. wan’ you to try this,” his fingers find their way to your chin and thumb over your bottom lip, urging you to part them.

you do just that and eat what he’s given you, humming in satisfaction.

“carmy that’s so good,” you press a lingering kiss on his lips as a thank you and go back to talking about your podcast.

carmen just sits back and watches you, noticing how empty your ring finger looks.

a/n: ending is kinda shit again :( but hope yall enjoy this lil drabble 🤍