#But won't be a full 24 hours

[sastielsfandom]

Alright poll time but it lasts until I get my phone to fifty percent

Link to the fics and posts of these ideas:

First Option - Waking Up Anew

Second Option - Pity The Saved, Not The Damned

Third Option - Post to the original idea

[jackgarlond]

hmmm I do not see how I'm going to be able to make it to 26

[onrainynights]

got up the courage to call and confirm my interview but the hiring manager was busy so now I have to get up the courage AGAIN god I hate phone calls but I am not having a repeat of when the wendy's ai scheduled an interview on the hiring manager's day off 💀

[sayangrafayel]

LADS react to you saying you want to quit your job (prank)!

Jobs can be so annoying sometimes and you fantasize on quitting, but you won't actually quit because apparently you need to worry about financial responsibility and all that! But in this universe, you love your job and you just want to prank them!

Sylus, Xavier, Rafayel, Zayne, Caleb

Sylus

Gets so happy. What? You're quitting? That means you can spend more time with him, given his super flexible working hours!

Oh no.. now you're gonna steal the twins away from him even more than you usually do, huh... but he digress.

Quirks an eyebrow when you tell him it's a prank, he'd be lying if he hasn't fantasized about it.

Xavier

"But.. we won't be partners anymore.." "I mean, we'll still be partners but not partners, you know?!"

If you're quitting, then he's quitting too! He joins the Hunters Association only because he gets to work with you anyway! Even though he loves the job too but he can still do it without being tied to HA.

Relieved when you say it's a prank, since he knows how much you actually love your job no matter how tiring it is. Plus, you have him as your partner! He'll fill both your quotas!

Rafayel

GETS SUPPER GIDDY.

Really!? You're quitting your job? Then he's hiring you as his full time bodyguard and you can stay with him 24/7!!! Frowns when you say "No, I'm quitting my job AS your bodyguard!" "What do you mean by that!? Quitting as my bodyguard is not in your contract. 😤"

Feels happy and yet tricked when you say it's a prank... happy because you're staying with him tricked because what do you mean you can't be his 24/7 bodyguard and stay with him all the time!?

Zayne

Took it seriously.

"If that's what you want, then I support you. But can I ask why? Was the workload too much? I did tell you to quit many times because of your health but I always thought you loved it so much so I never really pushed-"

"Zayne, I'm just kidding." "Oh. Now that's the selfish brat I know." "HEY?" Somehow you become the subject of this prank...

Caleb

REALLY? REALLY? YOU CAN STAY IN SKYHAVEN FULL TIME NOW THEN!!!

"I make enough for the both of us so this is amazing! We can spend so much time together and you can finally move in with me! I can cook you breakfast and I can come home for lunch to see you!?"

You did not have the heart to tell him it was a prank.. but you had to.. but you suddenly can't remember why moving to Skyhaven and moving in with him are not the better choice...

[tangerineastronaut]

can you do how they would be when your pregnant ot8

ATEEZ during your pregnancy ❤︎ ot8

Pairing: ot8 headcanons Genre: fluff, mentions of smut Requested: Yes w.c. 2.5k Warnings: pregnancy discussion, talk, sexual bits (not a whole lot of smut I promise) A/N: This took a surprisingly long amount of time I'm sorry!! I'm not sure if you meant ateez or not, I assumed so since that's what I've been posting recently. If not please send me an ask and I will do this for another group! Requests: Open (link below)

Requests | WIPs Masterlists: BTS | ATEEZ | GOT7 | Stray Kids

Taglist: @baby-stay92 @cozypaint If you'd like to be added to my taglist, please DM me or click here.

🔞Content Below the Break🔞

Hongjoong

The absolute worst (best)

Scolds you for "doing too much" aka walking up the stairs or picking up a gallon of milk.

Buys you the most expensive brand of prenatal vitamins despite your doctor insisting the cheap ones are fine

Checks on you via text every hour when he's not with you

^ and when he is with you

Is lowkey afraid of failure as a father, reads parenting articles

Sends you decaf coffee at work

Wants to feel your belly but won't unless you invite him to

Teary eyed when he feels the baby kick for the first time

Sampled the heartbeat at the ultrasound visit to use in a song

Writes letters to you and the baby and keeps them in a memory book for you to read later (but you don't know this)

Nursery is fully decked out and the baby already has a full wardrobe

Your crying makes him panic, he hates seeing you cry and will frantically try to soothe you every time

Is grossed out by your cravings but will get them for you anyway—why do you have to crave vegetables?

Sex is soft and lazy in the best way

Side sex (think sunday morning sex except any day) >>>

Like imagine his chest against your back, his cheek against yours, one of his hands keeping your leg up so he has room to fuck you, asking if it feels good and if you're comfortable, except he's kind of whining and breathless ~

No pregnancy kink but thinks you're breathtaking, as always

^ even when you haven't showered, your legs are hairy, etc. He thinks you're a work of art

Plays music for you and the baby, asks what he/she responds to and makes note of it

Overprotective, does not like it when people touch you in general, let alone when you're pregnant

Visibly dies inside every time someone's hand goes to your belly without asking you first—would scold people if you'd let him

Posts photos of you each month documenting your pregnancy and leaving a words of appreciation for you

Keeps a copy of the ultrasound photo with him

May not have his hands on you 24/7, but he makes sure you know you're loved as well as the baby

Seonghwa

So freaking soft for you both

Loves babies anyway but your baby??

Him leaning against the headboard so you can lean against him, he'll curl his arms around you and rub your belly while you talk

Talks to the baby, even when you're asleep

"I can feel you kicking in there. Let's let mommy sleep, hm? She gets cranky at daddy when she's tired."

Watches parenting videos

Loves showering with you since you can't take baths

When you joke that there's not much room anymore he'll say he knows that and pulls you closer

Shaves your legs for you when it gets too difficult, even if you're too shy to ask him

Buys you gifts every time he gets something for the baby

"The mom group says it's important for me to make you feel as loved and wanted as the baby."

^ has joined mom groups on social media, because "dad groups are just full of men complaining"

Calls him/her 'the little one'

"How are you? How was the little one today?"

Isn't overprotective but has moments when he hovers

You don't mind

Sex is always slow and full of giggles and him reassuring you when you're out of breath

He likes you on your back so he can kiss you and keep pressure off of you, arms on either side of you to support his weight

Likes taking naps with you even though you're always napping due to exhaustion

^ rarely actually sleeps, just wants to be near you and the baby

Knows your cravings by heart

"Pickle juice and french fries? That's a new one."

His nesting is as bad as yours if not worse; you both frantically clean the house months before the baby arrives

Loves when you send him selfies/belly pics

Isn't fazed by your emotions, helps you work through them and validates you

"Being pregnant doesn't mean you aren't allowed to have feelings, pretty girl. I'm here."

Yunho

Probably the most excited externally

Loves rubbing your belly and watching the baby kick his hand

Unironically purchased the "I'm proof daddy doesn't play video games all the time" onesie

Brings you ice cream even if you don't ask for it

"I'm telepathically linked with our baby, he/she said they want ice cream. I don't make the rules, y/n."

p r e g n a n c y k i n k

"Look at you, so fucking pretty and full."

Sex is unbelievably gentle despite his filthy words

Won't put you on your back, likes to have you in his lap so he can do all the work

Likes taking you out and showing you off, even when you feel like a mess

Posts pictures of you constantly to the point where people joke he's running a y/n maternity account

Foot rubs

Sympathy pains

"Our heartburn is bad today. I want a cinnamon roll. With sprinkles."

Teases you relentlessly

"I'll race you to the kitchen—oh yeah."

Handsy af but you don't mind

Walks up behind you to hold your belly

Sits up at night to rub it when the baby won't settle

He/she loves Yunho's voice and they begin kicking when he speaks

^ he uses this to his advantage

"Mommy's calling herself ugly again, I'm gonna need some backup from my internal ally."

Already 2 v 1 and the thing isn't even here yet

His google search history is worse than yours

^ "can pregnant women eat carrots"

"how long does pregnancy really last"

"how to make pregnant woman stop crying"

"why is my pregnant girlfriend crying"

"why am I crying"

"how to stop crying when your pregnant girlfriend cries"

Loves when people ooh and awe over you; beams and grins like an idiot bc you're his and he put the baby in you.

Yeosang

Seems calm

Is not calm

Is just as protective/concerned as Hongjoong but is so quiet about it you don't even notice

You haven't lifted a grocery bag since he found out about your pregnancy

Has the dates of your appointments memorized

No one touches the belly. He doesn't even say anything to anyone. They just don't.

Does little things to make sure you're extra comfortable, bought you a pregnancy pillow

Whispers to your belly

^ "I'm afraid my voice will scare the baby. I'll just whisper."

Pouts if the baby won't kick for him

You: "Please, Yeosang, for the millionth time fetuses cannot choose favorites! Our baby loves you, I promise!"

King of pregnancy cravings

2 a.m. runs to the convenience store because you want some strawberry milk

Forehead kisses with a hand on your belly >>>

Will literally get on his knees for a chat with him/her

Like imagine looking down and seeing this man smiling up at you, both hands on your tummy with so much love in his eyes I just—

His calm facade dissolves when you cry

It physically hurts him to see you break down and he will do all he can to help you

Talks about you nonstop and your symptoms, experiences, etc literally to anyone with ears

Signs you both up for a parenting class

Cannot believe how horny you are, but is happy to help

^ a little afraid of you tbh but still very much in love

Like Hongjoong, prefers side sex so he can still be close to you

Also loves foreplay/eating you out even more now because of how sensitive you are

Ultrasound visits/pics make him choked up though he tries to hide it

His brain has not processed the fact that his baby is literally inside of you

It isn't going to fully sink in until there's a baby in his arms

^ is never going to put him/her down

San

Proud Dad™

Is excited, but calm

Similar to Yeosang but not as intense

^ still protective, but doesn't mind when people touch your belly as long as they ask first

Buys two copies of baby books for you both to read at the same time

Posts pictures of your pregnancy journey with quotes or long paragraphs about how beautiful you are

lowkey pregnancy kink?

Cautious

Armchair sex/you in his lap - super slow and soft

Loves showering with you after to hold you and massage your back/shoulders

Doesn't necessarily treat you like you'll break but is still very gentle with you

Hugs are softer, he doesn't squeeze as tight, likes to hug you from behind and look over you to see what you're doing

Touches your belly in a reassuring way, likes to brush his hand against it and feel the baby's reaction

Does it in public probably the most of the members, though it's not really intentional

His hands used to go to your waist and now they go to your bump ~

Doesn't talk to the baby as much as he sings to him/her

Is way too excited to take maternity photos

Gets caught staring at you by literally everyone

Does not care

Thinks you hung the stars

Loooooves being snuggled in bed with you with your bump between you, rubbing your belly and whispering as though the baby is sleeping

Is very expressive about his fears/doubts and wants you to be as well

Blushes when people call him daddy

Blushes harder when you call him daddy

Pretty calm when it comes to your emotions, will just go with the flow and give you what you need, whether that's space, affection, or food

secretly hopes you want another one

Mingi

When I tell you this man is terrified

Does not think he can care for a baby despite your reassurance

Asks all the questions

"I mean, how do we know when it's done? You know, like, cooked all the way?"

Oddly protective despite his fears

Does not like anyone touching your belly

Any time someone comments on your size/roundness/etc he's ready to throw hands, does not care if it's the ajumma two doors down from you

You: "Mingi for the love of god, I have told you, you cannot threaten people."

"She threatened you first!"

You: "She just said I look ready to pop??"

Horny af and has a pregnancy kink but will not initiate sex

You have to beg, and even then it's like ~

"No I mean just stand there, and I'll hold you and put it in. Yeah don't move at all."

Will still eat you out daily

Treats you like a glass doll

Belly kisses >>>>>

Buys baby books, gets one page in and declares this is too much to remember and you both should get a refund

^ shrugs at your look of horror "obviously I meant a refund for the books..."

Raps??? at your belly? Like nursery rhyme raps????

Also talks. A lot. Not cooing or baby talk

"Today at practice I slipped and it sucked, kinda hurt my knee. I'm still a good dancer, definitely better than Yunho. I'll show you. But I mean like after you can walk and stuff, or maybe you'll dance before you can walk and we can win money or something. Do they have baby dance competitions?"

Doesn't post the pictures he takes of you and your belly, looks at them when he misses you and won't let anyone else see them

Unironically refers to himself as your baby daddy and changes his contact in your phone [proudly]

When you cry, he cries, so please don't cry

Asks if he can attend his own child's birth

^ is excited when you say "...yes, Mingi. You can attend the birth of our child."

Wooyoung

Knows all there is to know about babies??

Is not concerned at all

Reassures you constantly

You ask him questions

Will lay on your thighs and absentmindedly rub your belly while watching tv or scrolling on his phone

Actually, will rub your belly anywhere, and usually does it without realizing it

Refers to you as mama and himself as dada even out of context

"Do you want a drink, mama?"

Is completely unfazed by your weird cravings and will get them for you as long as it's not harmful

"No, y/n, you cannot have sushi with your oreos. Mercury levels..."

Not overprotective in the slightest

Your biggest advocate

The only member who would fuck you properly while pregnant, as he knows it's safe within reason

Does not have a pregnancy kink, but loves how sensitive you are, the changes to your body, etc and thinks you're a goddess

Loves going shopping with you

Will absolutely argue with you over nursery themes

Finds you adorable when you're emotional, but will still try to calm you down and comfort you

Loves talking about you nonstop

May not praise you to your face as much as the others but tells everyone else he's so incredibly lucky to have you as the mother of his child

He was so clingy before

It's worse

His camera roll is full of selfies with him and your bump

Imagine woo making bunny ears over your belly (and telling your unborn child to say cheese)

Has full on conversations with him/her

Baby talks and coos and informs them they have the best parents ever

Jongho

Probably the most genuinely calm member when it comes to your pregnancy

Still very excited

Does not know as much as wooyoung but is fairly confident, not terrified or anxious like some of the others

Touches your belly from day 1, even without a bump

Sings and hums to it

The baby LOVES his voice and always kicks when he's near

He finds this adorable and loves talking to him/her while touching your stomach

Massages >>>>

Your pregnancy aches are afraid of him

Is a little shaken by your emotions but handles them well

Not too overprotective but really hates it when people touch you

Won't say anything though unless you're uncomfy

Sex?

Dear god

2ho breeding/pregnancy kink is my headcanon and I am sticking with it

Do not make eye contact for more than a few seconds

Is unbelievably horny for you

Doggy style with pillows underneath you >>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Is extra gentle despite how badly he wants you

Takes care of you first also ^ he knows it helps you relax so that's always his end goal

Loves the way you look while pregnant

Thinks you're beautiful anyway but something about the fact that you're literally creating a brand new human being

When you wear his t-shirts and nothing else because your clothes don't fit anymore it makes him melt ~

^ he complains for the fun of it but would probably cry if you stopped

Brings you snacks/drinks/whatever without you having to ask

Is willing to try your cravings with you as long as it's nothing vile (frito chips + peanut butter)

Wants to do every social media pregnancy trend with you

*buys your unborn child soccer cleats*

Doesn't post photos of you often but when he does, they're tearjerkers

Wants more kids but knows how difficult pregnancy/motherhood is so ultimately it's up to you

He's the cutest - kissing your temple while snuggling on the couch and rubbing your belly

"Our baby bear"

[lover-of-mine]

Okay so this week:

Bobby memorial "leaked" (if you can call being filmed out in the open in a busy street and allowing a guy to livestream it for hours "leaked")

Alleged fight over tomatoes

Jennifer Love Hewitt posts selfie with script in full display

Oliver Start posts story with script in full display

Oliver deletes said story minutes after

Director for 813 said they wrapped 7 days ago

Journalists got the screeners 30 hours before the episode is set to air

We got stills 24 hours before the episode is set to air

Season 9 renewal

Deadline saying buddie is a will they won't they

Deadline editing the article without adding an edited note to remove the will they won't they mention

The episode hasn't even aired yet

[strangersatellites]

posting this feels like I'm crawling out of my grave and gasping for air

anyway- inspired by this post by @inthedarknessofnight

here's 1.3k of concert photographer!Steve and rockstar!Eddie because I couldn't get this out of my head

gimme, gimme more

1.3k words | this is the most g-rated thing I've ever written, it won't happen again

Steve’s feet hurt.

They always do after a show, but this one was particularly hard on him.

He’s been at this venue for two years now and shot countless shows in that time. But never in his career has he been challenged so– athletically. 

The photo pit at this place is light years better than his last venue. There’s more than enough room for all of the photographers and their gear without stepping on each other. Usually Steve is grateful for this because surely there is only so many more beatings his 35mm can take before it kicks the bucket. Today though, he’s grateful for the space because of the full-tilt sprint this band had him in. 

He’s never seen anything like it.

Well, less so did the band have him in a sprint and more so the frontman but, semantics. 

The guy is everywhere. Steve could barely keep up with the way he ran around stage, jumping, climbing on equipment, leaning off-stage toward the barricade.

It was fun but Jesus, what is his deal?

Steve hadn’t even known who Corroded Coffin was 24 hours ago. Now he’s burned through two SD cards in an hour and a half. 

The guy’s hot and a good photo subject, sue him.

Well, he thinks he’s a good photo subject at least. He won’t know until he’s culled through every single shot. Steve’s a good photographer, took to it naturally the first time he picked up a camera. His downfall though, according to his college professors at least, was that he pays absolutely no attention to what he’s shooting while he’s shooting it. Hence the overshooting. 

On more than one occasion he’s gotten started on editing and someone is wearing an outfit he’s never seen before, someone’s got sunglasses on in every photo, a tag hanging off their jacket. All he’s concerned with is the framing, the lighting, and the focus. The content can be a problem for Future Steve. Everything can be fixed in post.

Almost.

Anyway, his feet hurt and he hates culling, so he pours himself a full glass of wine and plops down on the couch in front of an episode of trash tv with his laptop and props his feet up. Settles in for a long night.

2,461 images.

He throws his head back with a groan. Ugh. 

The first hundred or so are garbage.

They always are.

A few shots spent fucking with the exposure, a few the focus, some the flash.

He denotes the purple flag as his ‘good’ tag and orange as his ‘trash’ tag. The orange is stacking up fast. Around 163 he starts finding some good images. Ones that aren’t tainted by motion blur from his running around after this frontman. 

His photos of the drummer are pretty sick; he can't lie. The lights and the smoke and the near-manic smile on his face make for great photos. He’s not even this band’s personal photographer but he can imagine at least one of these will get posted to the band's socials. He’s good, what can he say?

He has a good bit of the bassist, his energy infectious enough you can almost feel it through the screen. Purple is making a comeback.

He finally gets through some crowd pics, some more drummer, some guitarist, some detail shots before he finally makes it to the frontman. 731 photos later. 

What did Wikipedia say his name was? Eddie, he thinks.

Weird, the very first shot Steve has of him he’s making fierce eye contact with the camera.

Ew.

No matter how long Steve does this, photos of people looking directly at the camera never get less jarring. 

Orange tag. Trash.

The next one is exactly the same.

Shit. 

He’s really bad to fall victim to the high speed shutter on this camera and often finds himself with a dozen copies of the same picture. Looks like he’s done it again.

Orange.

More piercing eye contact.

What? He squints and flips back and forth between the last two photos.

They’re not even remotely similar. As a matter of fact, Steve was in a completely different location in the pit for the second one. 

Green tag. Come back to this.

Taking a long swig from his glass he shifts so his laptop is closer to his face. Thinks that surely he’s not seeing this right. 

He takes to forgoing his tagging system and just flipping through every photo as fast as his fingers can press the arrow keys.

He’s clicked through about 200 when he starts getting worried, his heart rate speeding up. Surely he got something usable.

“What the fuck?”

He’s clicked through 50 or 60 more when he decides that, no he did not fall victim to the shutter speed at all. This guy is just making direct eye contact with his camera in every single photo.

Steve’s not mad, the opposite really. He didn’t spend much time looking at the guy during the show and now he gets to have an eyeful while he works. What’s there to be mad about? 

He is, however, mildly concerned that he won’t have a single decent photo to use for the venue socials when he posts about this show.

Whatever. Maybe fans of their music are also fans of uncomfortable eye contact. Who knows?

He finishes sifting through the rest of the photos, Eddie staring directly down the lens in every one, one’s where he’s not the subject included. Throws them all in an editing software and mass edits them all at once. He’ll detail edit later.

While the eye contact was a little unsettling, he did get one photo he’s particularly happy with. One that makes it look like the staring was on purpose.

It’s during the second to last song, a ballad– or as close as you can get with a metal band. Eddie’s standing center-stage and Steve had snagged the spot directly in front of him. He’s looking straight down, backlit with red spotlights, surrounded by smoke pumping from side-stage, and just close enough that Steve can see the sweat dripping down his neck. He looks a little bit scary, but that’s how Steve likes ‘em. 

That’ll be the cover photo for sure.

He shoots an album link to his boss to review before he distributes them anywhere, then spends  the next twenty minutes laughing to himself while he collects the goofiest photos of Eddie staring straight at his lens.

He puts them in a new album and copies the link.

When he opens up Instagram and searches Corroded Coffin he lets out a low whistle at the six million followers. Maybe he really should know who these guys are. With that many followers he doubts they’ll even see a message from his personal account, but whatever. He clicks on the message button on their profile and hits paste.

@ steveharrington.jpeg Great show tonight! Somebody tell this guy that he is allowed to look away from the camera though…

He only waits a few minutes for the reply.

@ corrodedcoffin HOLY SHIT THAT WAS YOU

@ corrodedcoffin Wait hang on

His phone pings with a message from a new account.

@ whoiseddiemunson HOLY SHIT THAT WAS YOU

@ whoiseddiemunson Sweetheart I wasn’t looking at the camera

Steve furrows his brows, confused. Starts typing a response but gets interrupted by another message.

@ whoiseddiemunson I was looking at the smoking hot guy behind it. Kinda hard to get a good look when he’s hiding behind the camera though.

Steve feels his cheeks flush and huffs a laugh to himself.

@ steveharrington.jpeg Well the guy behind the camera did manage to get a few good ones even though he was under surveillance the whole show. Wanna see those?

@ whoiseddiemunson Hell yeah I do. I just scrolled through your profile, your work is amazing. Do you want to show me the rest? Maybe over coffee tomorrow?

Steve smiles. His earlier heart palpitations replaced with butterflies.

@ steveharrington.jpeg Is this a date?

@ whoiseddiemunson It better be

[which-qsmp-egg-would]

I diiiiid it

I tried to make it look kinda like the drawing :D

(Bonus pictures under the cut)

I was thoroughly enjoying the snow and my mother snuck some pictures lol. I sure hope I don't suffer the consequences of my actions again!

We got a lot of snow today :D

[urfriendlywriter]

5 prompts a day !

(24 hours drabble challenge! Write a drabble within 24hrs (using any one or more prompts) and tag meeee I'll repost it in this account for 24 hrs!!)

a very silent night and they're back from home, utterly spent and tired and beeline straight for you. pulling u closer by ur waist and resting their forehead against yours as they barely whisper, "love me, [name]."

forbidden love when,

^ "We can't, [name]-" they cuts you off, lips crashing against yours in a fierce, desperate kiss full of love and longing.

they break the kiss, their forehead resting against yours. "I know," their voice is murmured, "I know we can't. I know it's complicated. I know it's crazy. But fuck, I've missed you."

they swallow hard, their throat bobbing. "If you tell me to stop. If you push me away again. I won't come back this time. I'll respect your boundaries, but I won't put myself through this torture again." (someone PLS. WRITE. AND GIVE ME. ANGST!!!)

[dontbesoweirdkira]

I love ur fics! ^^ How would platonic!yan batfam react to an affectionate/cuddly reader?

A/N: Thank you! I hope you enjoy this, thanks for requesting.

Warnings: none. Fluffff

Masterlist

Requests: Always open

I think the family would be more than over-joyed to have a bat!siblings that is extremely affectionate. They are all a very loving family with a mutual obsession and it's always such a fear that new kids won't understand that. You can imagine their sigh of relief seeing just how comfortable and loving you are with them.

Bruce isn't always the most available person in the family but when he is home, he could never turn his baby away from hugs. It warms his heart having you great him with a huge bear hug right when he walks in. The day he dreads most is his kids feeling "too old'' to love on their old man. It's nice knowing you have no shame in loving your dad.

His hugs are the absolute best, and I guarantee if he hold you more than a few moments, you are bond to fall asleep in his arms. It's just so warm and Bruce smells heavenly... He's a hugggeeeee tank that can easily pick you up and spin you around. He doesn't always make it to movie nights, usually it's just a siblings thing but he'd okay with cuddling you. Depending on your age he'll either have you in his lap or just have his arm around you..either way your head is always on his chest and he gives you a small peck on the head.

Bruce can be often intimidating and overly serious but for his bat, he'll do anything you ask. He loves you so much and the little moments you give him affection, he cherishes forever. Even on his worst day when he's sulking, your bubbly cuddles are enough to save him from whatever slump he's in.

Dick is just as affectionate as you. Often times he feels like he's doing the absolute most and sometimes feels a bit touch starved so it's nice having someone that's ready to cuddle anytime. He's not as big as Bruce but those strong arms are just as comforting.

He's always down for giving piggyback rides, doesn't matter your age or size, he can handle it. He'll run around the house with you, and be silly all day. He's literally the best, I love him. I just imagine that he's super into giving wholesome kiss attacks. Like he just gets intense cuteness aggression and he has to!

The nice thing about Dick is that he doesn't find it weird when you want to be around him 24/7 or even fall sleep with him in his bed. To him it's all pure and there's nothing wrong with siblings feeling safe enough to do so.

*will tell you that he loves you and that you're perfect about a thousand times a day*

He also gives tight squeezes when he hugs, sometimes it's too tight. He loves to help with doing your hair, doing skincare and silly dances. Anything that'd make your heart happy, he'll do.

Jason is maybe not as affectionate but he loves you just as much. Depending on which Jason you're thinking of may be a little uncomfortable with too much touching. But he doesn't mind a hug or two here and there. They are surprisingly gentle but full of warmth.

He often like to just to be near you. Maybe show off your favorite characters, drawings, shows and items to him instead. He'll sit and listen to you and give little praises. He'll let you tag along with him and follow him around. Don't ask him to help with your hair because he will accidentally tangle it lol.

He can also be playful at times and joke around with you and play games. He loves video and board games, but he's a sore loser that'll keep re-matching until he wins

He'll reciprocate your smiles and on a good day he'll engulf his body around you in his own cuddling manner.

Tim is unfazed by so much so your constant hugging and touching doesn't bother him. This boy is secretly deprived of all affection anyways. I think his preferred way of affection is when he lays in your chest while he works on his laptop and you scratch his head. He can be like that for hours and will probably throw a fit when you get up to leave.

Just plainly cuddling is a little too awkward for his liking so he might decline it at times. But Tim will hold your hand or allow you to hold his arm whenever you desire tho. I've said before too that he'll definitely let you hold onto the hem of his shirt or bite him lol.

He's not always great with words but he'll reciprocate your 'i love yous' and other words of affirmations. It's cute because he's slightly flustered and his voice always cracks. It's just a bit new for him but anything for his sis.

Another way of showing you affection is to info dump on you and ask you for your opinion on his detective work. He's showing that he thinks highly enough of you to share his interests with you.

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

A good grade.

Pairing: Perv Art Professor!Joel x afab!reader Words count: 4844 Rating: +18, MDNI Summary: You always thought you would have a future in the art world, until you met Mr. Miller, your professor who decided to make your life hell. What are you willing to do for a good grade? Tags: perv!Joel, soft!Joel, power imbalance, degradation, smut, blackmail, reader is described having female genitalia, no other description of her is given, unspecified age gap (in my mind 24/45 but you can imagine whatever, they’re both grown up anyway), unprotected p in v (reader is on the pill but you know, do better irl), oral (f receiving), mention of blowjob, edging, edging with a brush, creampie, pet names, slurs, Joel has a dirty mouth, a lot of swearing, some reader's thoughts marked in italics.

Disclaimers: English is not my first language, very poorly proofread, no beta, it's all my fault and I'm very sorry! I like art but I'm not an expert, I've never taken lessons (well, in high school I did but it was art history and it was only theoretical) and I don't really know how they work, I made it all up so if it doesn't adhere to reality please excuse me. I hope you like it anyway, the other morning I woke up with the idea of ​​Joel painting me as one of his French girls (heheheheh) and I started writing this thing 💀

If anyone wants to be added or removed from the taglist, please let me know. Thanks to anyone who reads, I hope you like it ♥️

You’ve always loved art, since high school it’s always been your favorite subject and drawing and painting your outlet, your way of expressing yourself. Your teachers have always praised you, considering your works not only perfectly executed but significant, mature, full of pathos. Everyone has always told you that you had an eye for recognizing artistic value, you’ve always been the best in your class and you’ve worked hard to get here.

You graduated with excellent grades and were accepted into a prestigious master's program. You would like to become a professional artist or at least an art critic.

You had a bright future ahead of you, until you met Professor Joel Miller.

He has done nothing but criticize you, your skills and your work from the very first day. 

And he always does it deliberately, in front of everyone else. No matter how hard you try, you never get more than F for every work you submit. The disdain with which he treats you makes you feel like a failure and your breath die in your throat every time he lays eyes on you and says the most hateful words you’ve ever heard about yourself. Today it happened again. You spent sleepless nights working on this portrait, begging the model called by Professor Miller to see you after class hours. You even offered to pay her and she was kind, she didn’t ask for an outrageous amount despite the fact that she could have taken much more lucrative jobs instead of posing for you. You’re just a master’s student trying to support herself by working nights in a bar. 

“What is this?” he thundered looking at your painting “You are only getting worse, miss, I have never seen anything like this. It is indecent that a person like you tries to make art, it should be prohibited by law. Look at this, wrong proportions, no harmony, no attention to detail, nothing. This does not even look like the same person I had pose for hours in front of you. You should be ashamed to present a work like this after 6 months of course” 

You won't be able to finish your master's degree unless you get a passing grade in Professor Miller's course, but he doesn't seem at all inclined to give you even a measly D.

It’s a nightmare.

You'd be forced to start all over again, ask your parents for financial help, which is the last thing you want to do when they've already sacrificed so much to help you pay for college, or do the unthinkable and give up on all your dreams, the career you have cultivated with strength and passion throughout your life up until now.

You decide to make a last-ditch effort and try to talk to Mr Miller during his office hours.

You've always avoided it until now because you thought things would get better but it's the third F you get and you can't afford to go on like this. 

The idea of ​​being alone with him doesn't excite you at all, but you hate losing everything you've worked so hard for even more.

You take a deep breath before knocking on the door, terrified of what he might say to you.

Mr Miller is also an established artist and his work has been appreciated abroad so his disapproval could really preclude you from many opportunities. 

“Come in” even from behind closed door his voice sends shivers down your spine.

You walk in muttering “good afternoon” feeling like a complete idiot, you are already convinced that it was a mistake to come to him, nothing will change his mind. 

Joel is sitting behind his desk, frowning as he corrects tests. He looks up from the papers only when you are in front of him “Oh. it's you,” he says in his usual dismissive tone of voice “What do you want miss?” 

You clear your throat and murmur, “I...” his gaze is already back on the tests, he doesn't even look at your face as he fills the paper with red marks and writes a big circled F at the top, the assignment of some other hapless person like you who will find himself failing his class. Incredible anger mounts in your body, you clench your fists and say "excuse me" in a stern voice. 

It infuriates you, it's maddening how he can't even treat you as a human being for a second. 

"What do you want?" he asks annoyed looking back up at you "and be quick about it, you are wasting my time." 

“I'd like to know what I need to do to have you evaluate me favorably” you try to keep your tone as detached and respectful as possible even though you despise the man in front of you with every fiber of your body. 

“Nothing, you can't do anything, I thought you had figured it out by now, are you also stupid besides not having the slightest talent?”

“Actually...fuck, I don't think I am that bad. And I think you are judging me too harshly,” you spit out feeling tears stinging your eyes. You promised yourself to keep calm but the way he is treating you only makes you want to insult him.

“I advise you to moderate your tone if you don't want to be expelled as well as failed in my class.”

He has the upper hand, you can't do anything about it. A sense of frustration and helplessness crackles under your skin as you plead with him, “Please Mr Miller there must be something I can do to change things. Anything...I…I don't want to fail.” 

An evil grin paints on his face “how much do you care about it?” 

“It's the only thing I care about, please, art means everything to me” you look at him feeling your whole essence crumble in front of him, you are desperate and tired of struggling, you just want to find a way to work things out. You have very good grades in all the other courses, he is the only one stopping you from achieving what you want most in the world.

“Actually you could do something to make it better,” Joel suggests, and you cry, ”Please, I'll do anything.” 

“Anything?” he probes ”are you sure?” His smug, dangerous expression unnerves you, maybe you shouldn't have made yourself so vulnerable in front of him, but there's no turning back now. "Yes," you shriek.

He leans against the back of the chair while continuing to sneer under his mustache “Well, then I have an offer for you. I'm working on a series of paintings of women, you could pose for me.” 

“Me?” you ask confused, the last thing you expected was for him to ask you to paint you.  

“Why not, if nothing else you're pretty,” he admits, and it's the first nice thing about you that's ever come out of his mouth. 

You wonder what the scam is behind his proposal, it can't be that easy, he's probably going to ask you to pose with some repulsive animal or in a way that makes you look completely idiotic or he's just pretending that this is the solution but then he's going to blackmail you and make you regret setting foot in his office.

He writes something on a post-it note and hands it to you “Meet me at this address tomorrow night at 8” he orders you “don't be late” 

“I really...” you try to say. 

“What? Is there something more urgent you need to do besides securing good grades?” he raises an eyebrow scrutinizing your astonished face. 

“No it's just that...I'm supposed to be working at that time.” You mutter.

“Well get your shift changed, or ask someone to fill in for you, pretend to be sick, I don't care, just show up.” He barks at you. 

“Okay,” you agree. You can't say no, it's your last resort, either that or total defeat. 

You walk out of his office with the feeling that you have gotten into big trouble. 

_____________________________

You get confirmation of this the next day when you show up at the address written by Professor Joel. It's on a suburban street with little traffic, in front of you is what looks like an abandoned former factory. A blast of cold air makes you shiver as you ring an old intercom near the front door. You huddle in your coat, wondering where the hell you are. Maybe he gave you the wrong address just to make fun of you, you took two buses to get here, at the very least you'll soon find out your professor isn't even here. 

Surprisingly, he answers you instead, his thick voice ordering you to come up. You enter through the doorway into a dusty, bare lobby, only an old freight elevator in front of you. You push the button and the elevator car begins to descend with a sinister, metallic sound. "What the hell is this place?” you ask yourself "my god, I'm going to end up dead and thrown in a dumpster". You get on the elevator with your heart in your throat praying that there isn't a serial killer waiting for you on the other side. 

The doors suddenly open wide onto a large room with concrete columns. You step out and look around, there is a large table in the corner, chock full of artists' materials, tempera, canvases, oil paints, watercolors, all thrown in bulk. Various canvases are resting on pedestals scattered around the room, and others lie leaning against the wall. There is an old leather couch in the corner and a double mattress resting on wooden pallets on the other side. Several rugs are spread on the floor. It's all messy and chaotic, but it definitely has the look of an art studio. 

"Oh, you're here at last," Joel grunts, popping up from behind a pillar holding a dirty brush stained with red tempera. 

He is wearing a pair of frayed jeans and a white T-shirt stained in paint, he is disheveled and barefoot. 

He doesn't even look like your professor; he always wears suits and perfectly ironed shirts at university. 

Two large leaded windows divided into small squares open on the wall in front of you. 

It’s dark by now, so the entire room is softly lit by several lamps and candles scattered around. 

“Where should I stand to pose?” you don't intend to put in more than is necessary; spending time with this obnoxious man is the last thing you want to do today. 

“Sit on the couch,” Joel orders, pointing to the old leather ruin to your right, ”I'll prepare the necessities and we'll get started.” 

You sit, quietly, dreading what lies ahead. 

Joel picks up a blank canvas and places it on a stand, takes a graphite pencil from the table and orders you " Undress" 

You squint your eyes, squeaking “I'm sorry, what?”

“I'm making a series of artistic nudes, didn't I tell you?” he grins 

“No, you don’t” you retort. 

Fucking bastard. 

“Strip” he repeats firmly. 

“But I don't-”

“Look, you're already irritating me, either take off your fucking clothes or get out of here” 

You've seen people pose nude in your art classes before, even in Professor Joel's class, and all you've ever cared about was doing a good job, but now it's different. It's just you and him, in a place in the middle of nowhere, you weren't warned before, and more importantly, he makes you uncomfortable. 

His gaze has done nothing but judge you from the first moment it landed on you. You don't want to lose that last bit of dignity you still preserve and let him see you in your most intimate form. 

“So what have you decided?” Joel presses you. 

With extreme reluctance, you begin to take off your coat, laying it on the couch. What else can you do? By now you have fallen into a trap, either you do this or your grade at the end of the course will be F. 

F for failure.

“Damn asshole,” you think, ”I hope I never see you again in my life after your fucking course is over.” 

The resentment must be clear on your face because Joel mocks you “Oh come on, don't pout like that. There's nothing underneath that I haven't seen a hundred times before. It's just tits and a cunt” he concludes in a dismissive tone, crossing his arms over his chest impatiently.

He rolls his eyes when after some hesitation you slip off the T-shirt you are wearing, revealing a light pink lace bra. 

He curls his lips "cute," he whispers in a lascivious tone " take that off too." 

“But Mr Miller I...” you try to retort

“Go ahead and take it off,” your arms reach for your back, you undo the hooks of your bra and drop it to the floor. You cannot believe this is happening, you are bare-chested in front of your professor. 

"Very well..." he acquiesces, "you see, everything is easier when you cooperate." 

He strokes his beard as he glances at you remove your shoes and pulling down your jeans, the same smug, dangerous smile he had in his office returns to peep across his face.

“Good girl.” 

You feel a knot in your stomach. And you who thought that commitment and talent were enough to get results...poor naive girl. 

You should get out of here and go to the dean and report him for unethical conduct but you suddenly realize that he may be the first, but he won't be the last. 

"Lie down on the couch," Joel whispers to you, his gaze not leaving your body, hungry and demanding. 

You don't want to be here, yet you feel you can't do anything else at this point. 

"Raise your right arm above your head," Joel instructs, "and bend your legs slightly." 

“Like this. Don't move," Joel stands in front of the canvas and begins to trace marks on the surface. His hand moves quickly, his fingers run over the traced lines smudging them. 

You remain still as he ordered you, feeling goosebumps across your body and your nipples harden from the cold. 

You have to admit to yourself that it is fascinating to watch him work; his gaze is alert and sure, his hands move expertly and competently. He is certainly talented. 

Joel observes the work done so far, scratching his chin, adding a few touches here and there as his eyes scan the entire surface of the canvas.

Maybe he really just wants to paint you and you're making a big deal out of nothing, maybe this will end well after all. He moves the easel to one side of the sofa you assume to look at you from another angle until he growls “Spread your legs for me, darling” 

“But I don't-”

“I need more shadows on your  body”

“What?” you glance at him, this sounds like a lame excuse. 

“Spread your legs” he repeats ”come on” 

You do so, feeling his eyes everywhere on you, feeding on every uncovered inch of your skin. And for some reason you cannot explain, you feel your body react under his gaze. You peak at the outline of his cock straining under his jeans, a rush of adrenaline rushes through you, a flush of arousal between your legs. 

No, you can't. 

You cannot crave for him to look at you. He's your professor who lured you here under false pretenses. 

Yet you realize how incredibly handsome he is. So far you had only thought of him as your teacher and had never truly paused to observe him, especially since he always treated you like a dirtbag. 

“Perfect, now stay still like this,” he mutters.

He hums as you do “Such a good girl for me” in a mellifluous and manipulative tone.

You feel his voice penetrate deep into your bones and another thrill of arousal runs through you all, gliding under your skin and straight to your pussy. 

This is so fucked up but on the other hand you are thrilled by the idea of ​​ending up in one of his paintings.

He makes a couple of changes to the sketch and then walks over to you, sitting on the armrest of the couch. He watches you intently, as if he wants to study every tiny detail about you, you still have your panties on but you've never felt more naked than that.

“Hmm, someone is wet.” he observes, gazing at the wet spot on your underwear. “It’s all for me?”

“I…uh…no, absolutely not” You don't want to admit it even to yourself but the situation is turning you on, no matter how wrong it is. 

“Honey, I advise you never to play poker,” he sneers. You look at him puzzled, and he adds, “You're not good at bluffing at all.”

When he reaches out a hand to touch you, you almost tremble, it's as if your body is crying out to him “take me. use me.”

All you ever wanted from the beginning was his approval and now somehow he seems to recognize something in you. You just want to stop arguing, to stop fighting, to stop feeling like you are worth less than nothing, you just want to know that you still have a future that consists of not settling for a job that you don't love and doesn't allow you to feel fulfilled and let you get the results you know you deserve. 

And most of all, you want him to be on your side.

“You're such a pretty little thing, you know that?” his voice gruels as his fingers run from your ankle to your knee and then up to your inner thigh. You stiff, feeling your heart raging up under your ribcage and a fresh flush of arousal dampening your cunt.

How did you never realize how sexy this man is? Now that his gaze has softened you notice the deep brown of his eyes, with some hazel undertones, and how he lights up as he stares at you. 

God, you want him so bad right now. 

You are almost on the verge of grabbing his wrist and placing his big hand on your pussy already, but you decide to let him. 

His fingers move slowly over your skin; instead of touching you where you need it most, his hand stops at your hip, fiddling with the hem of your panties. 

"Can I?" he grunts. 

You nod silently and he demands “I need you to use your words, baby. Speak to me”

“Yes” you breath 

He grins as he places his other hand on your hip and begins to pull down your panties. You lift your pelvis to ease him, and he comments, "mmm, so eager. You’re such a slut, aren’t you?”

You feel your cheeks on fire as you cannot take your eyes off him, desperately in need of his hands, his lips, his tongue and his cock. You want it all, right now. So maybe he’s right, you’re a slut and you don’t even care. 

Joel calmly moves your panties down your legs and brings them to his nose, inhaling your scent. “Sweet. I bet you taste even better.”

He gets up from the couch, tucking your panties into his jeans pocket, and takes a clean brush from a container resting on the table. He sits back right next to you, and grins. 

He caresses the inside of your leg with the brush, the feeling of the bristles flowing over your skin is incredible, soft and intense at the same time, leisurely moving on your inner thigh, raising up closer and closer to your pussy, his eyes set in yours, mesmerized by you.

You are subjugated by him as he fondles you, going up your belly with his brush, deliberately ignoring your pussy, moving deftly over every curve of your body. It is as if he is painting you, as if he has made you his work of art.

The bristles rub over your rib cage, slowly, then your breasts, moving in concentric circles from your areola to your nipples. He passes the brush back and forth over your hard buds and a deep moan escapes from your throat. “Please, Mr Miller” you whine. 

“You can call me Joel, darling” he whispers “what do you need?” 

“I…fuck” You’re dripping wet, your voice is a wail and your body is itching to be touched. 

“Say it.” he orders you, ”I want to hear it.”

“I want - fuck - my pussy” you blather, you are not even able to form a complete sentence right now.

Joel laughs faintly, descending again on your abdomen, very slowly, until he reaches your mound. He rubs the bristles from right to left lingeringly, then lowering again, descending on your outer lips, first one side and then the other. And then again and again. 

When he finally brushes over your clit, you are so pent up and needy that you arch your back, emitting a throaty moan. 

“Oh God! Oh my God”

Joel lowers the brush to your clit, surrounding it with the bristles, pushing and making concentric circles. He stops when he feels you on the edge. 

And then he does it all again, circling and pressing, jerking your bundle of nerves with the brush. And then a third time. 

You’re a crying mess at this point, mind completely numb and your body covered in sweat.

He spreads your folds with his thumbs and sighs, “Look at this pussy, all nice and wet for me, I can’t wait to dip into your sweet honey, babe”

He throws the brush on the floor, it falls with a dull thud bouncing on the carpet. 

“So fucking perfect” 

You squeeze your eyes whining “please" a riot of emotions assail you, your body is so on the edge you could explode just by the way he looks at you, moistening his lips with his tongue.

He puts his arms around your neck, “cling to me,” he whispers. You do as he says, instinctively encircling his waist with your legs, clinging to his body with all your strength as he carries you to the bed and lays you gently on top.

He undresses, staying in his boxers in front of you. 

You can't take your eyes off him, gazing at his wide shoulders, his broad chest, his soft belly with a thin strip of hair running down into his boxers. 

He kneels on the bed, facing you, gently spreading your legs and moving between them. 

He lowers himself on you, placing a kiss on your clit, making you whimper another pathetic "please." 

He sticks his tongue out and runs it flat across your folds, up and down, one hand firmly clinging to your hip, his fingers digging into your skin. 

"I was right, you taste amazing," he murmurs against your skin. 

You are no longer thinking about anything right now, not about your master's degree, evaluations or the fact that he is your teacher. 

You feel his nose hitting on your clit as he eagerly licks your folds, opening them with two fingers to sink his tongue in. 

You bite your lower lip, stifling your moans, burying a hand in his dark curls, pulling him toward you “oh fuck, yes”.

His tongue encircles your hard clit, swirling around, his lips lace over it sucking greedily.

“You don’t need to hold back, you can be as loud as you want in here, no one will hear us. Let me hear you, baby. I wanna know how you sound when you come” 

He doesn't stop sucking and licking until you feel your orgasm mount inside you like a flooding river, invading your body, curving your toes, clenching your fists on the sheet beneath you and rolling your hips on his face, wetting his lips, his chin, dripping onto your inner thigh. 

“Yeah, baby, come apart on my tongue, just like that”

He licks you clean until you calm down, devouring your juices to the last drop and then looks up at you “you have no idea how beautiful you are, starving for my cock” he groans “god, I must have you right now, I must make you mine, you hungry little whore”

You wait for nothing else, it seems your thirst has no way to quench today.

“Please, Joel,”

He pulls off his boxers, throwing them on the floor, his cock springs free and is incredibly hard, you can't stop looking at it. He's big, so big you don't even know how he's going to fit all the way inside you but you don’t care. “Fill me up, Joel, please”

“Yeah? You want this big cock inside you? Want me to fill you up so good baby?” He grumbles.

“Please, Joel, it’s all I need” you whine. 

He lies on top of you, tapping your lips a few times with the tip, running it along your folds and wetting it with your juices, aligning himself with your opening, “I'll give you what you want, then.”

He nudges at your hole a moment before he enters you, just the tip, pressing gently to let you get used to his intrusion. 

You moan feverishly, clinging to his back, bucking your hips toward him “more, please, more” you plea. 

As he plunges inside you, he stares at your face, as if he doesn’t want to miss a single second of your reactions, when he’s ball deep into you you let out an incoherent whine so graveling it doesn’t even sounds like your voice. 

He begins to pump into you as you circle his waist with your legs again, pushing to feel him deeper, your hands roaming in his graying hair. 

“Here you go, taking me so well princess, you’re so good to me” 

When his lips settle on yours you realize that you had not yet kissed until this moment. His lips are soft, demanding, his tongue penetrates your mouth licking eagerly, and you are more than happy to respond, savoring his taste of mint and cigarettes. 

One of his hands kneads your breast, his fingers close on one of your nipples as his cock doesn't stop sinking inside you.

You moan into his mouth feeling like you are on the edge of a cliff, ready to fall into the sinful pit of hell. 

“Where do you want me?” he whispers in your ear, and your voice comes out broken from the back of your throat  ”Inside. please. I'm - fuck - I'm on the pill.” 

You feel him spilling his load inside you a moment later, painting your inner wall with his hot sticky cum. 

You feel delirious and exhausted, guilty for what you just did. Your moral code has just been shattered under the hot weight of his body.

He kisses you again, lingering on your bottom lip. “You’re so much better than I thought,” he chuckles. 

He moves away from you and stands up naked to return to the sketch. He traces a few lines and makes some adjustments as you stare at him in amazement.

“Can you show me?” you ask. “Yes, come here,” he replies. You get up and stand next to him to observe the canvas. Your body is sketched on it and it looks perfect, you have never seen yourself so beautiful.

“You can go if you want, I’m done for today” 

“I- I don’t want to”

“Do you want more?” he sneers “god, you really are a slut.” he comments as he gets closer to you. 

He fucks you two more times, the first time he makes you get on all fours, licking your pussy from behind and then sinking into you while he holds you by the hips, his cock slamming against your cervix and his balls against your ass. Then you’re too eager to have him in your mouth, to taste your flavor mixed with his, so you offer to give him a blowjob and he fucks your mouth before digging back into your pussy again.

He drives you back to campus. “I may be an asshole, but I won’t let you walk around alone at night,” he says. 

You get out of his car feeling like you’re in a bubble, like everything that happened was just a surreal dream you can’t wake up from. You collapse into your bed after throwing your clothes haphazardly on the floor. When you wake up the next morning you feel like shit. 

You don't know how boldly you will look your classmates in the eye, but you can't skip class, and the thought of seeing Joel again thrills you, no matter how wrong it is. 

When Joel enters the classroom, he ignores you, probably so as not to arouse suspicion; it would be too strange for him to treat you with regard after denigrating you for months.

He begins returning graded tests proceedings slowly as usual, moving between desks and laying down the papers without making any comment. The test that rests on your desk has a circled A at the top.

Tag list: @aurorawritestoescape @baronessvonglitter @lemon-nomel @almostempty @thundermartini @harriedandharassed @pedrostories

[goldenstring6123]

Lnds: Reconciliation

Warning: Still a bit angst-y. no teeth-rotting fluff. lots of drama.

Author's note: Please read "Lnds: Fighting with them" first before reading this one.

Zayne:

Well, most of the problems have been resolved already when you have heart-to-heart talks with him in his office. Although it was inevitable that you would shed a tear of frustration, Zayne would never let you go to sleep with a heavy heart.

Despite being mentally exhausted from your work and your fight, his genuine kindness will never flicker, especially towards you. When he gets home, his first instinct is to find you and check on your state—sure, you've resolved the issue through the conversation. Still, he isn't naive to think that lingering afterthoughts of the fight won't weigh your heart down.

Zayne loves you, and albeit he can't say it directly, he'd show it to you instead.

When he finds you, you are most likely lost in your thoughts, reflecting or distracting yourself in one way or another, but it will almost always be the same scenario: you will be sitting out in the garden in your nightwear.

Zayne would place his bag down and head to the kitchen to brew your favorite warm drink, doubling the amount of sweetened cocoa powder. It's not healthy to drink, but it was okay once in a while. You could hear the clinking of the teaspoon hitting the mug, and shortly after, Zayne was behind you, draping a knitted shawl over your shoulders.

He would hand you the drink and simply sit beside you in silence. He wasn't on his phone and dared not speak, letting only the chilly air envelop you both.

It wasn't awkward; there was no tension. Just silence.

And a little warmth as his hands clasped onto yours, his thumb grazing your palm.

That moment made you think that whatever you fought about felt trivial and tiny.

"I'm sorry for getting mad," you tell him lightly. "Thank you for the drink."

Zayne had said his sorries, and he didn't really need to hear one from you, but nonetheless, you were heard. He felt your head rest on his shoulders, and together, you basked under the full moon.

Xavier:

Xavier was looking for you. He went to the office and to that small hidden field, searching for an inkling of your presence. He didn't know what he would do once he managed to find you, but it was the last thought in his mind.

You weren't in your apartment, and it had already been 24 hours. Xavier waited patiently in silence, reflecting on your fight. A phantom of pain from you slapping him amplified the fear in your face, sending an ache through his heart.

He shouldn't have done that. He didn't know why. You never had the habit of running away during a fight, so he was unsure why he was unconsciously pressing you against the wall. Xavier is more than aware that his strength is incomparable to yours. You would, quite frankly, stand no chance if he used force, but that was precisely the point; he had no reason to use it.

He wanted to apologize to you, and he wanted you to reprimand him. He could take another hit from you, but what he can never accept is seeing that frightened, cornered look on your face.

You arrived pretty late into the night, and he was still there on your sofa, patiently waiting for you, almost like a little puppy. You spared him a few seconds of your glance but turned away soon after, taking off your coat, dropping your bag, and heading to the bedroom to speak.

You lay in your bed, facing away from the door because you knew too well that he would come in after you. Even then, you didn't lock the door. Xavier looked more than dejected when you didn't speak to him. You kept your position and closed your eyes shut.

Quietly, the silver-haired man made his way to your bedroom, peeking before carefully entering and lying beside you. Lightly, he clutched onto the hem of your shirt. "I want to apologize," his voice cracked a little, almost making it seem he was on the verge of tears.

"I don't like it when you corner me," you told him.

He scooted closer. "I know, I'm sorry. I won't do it again. I promise."

"I don't like it when you don't listen to my side of the story."

"I'll listen to your side next time," Xavier said, his voice faint yet closer.

It was the perfect time to let go of your anger. You never really talked about his habit when you fight, and you were partly at fault for tolerating it, hoping he would just listen one day. But how would Xavier change something when he didn't know how it affected you so much?

You rolled over to finally face him, his eyes going wide. You stroked his cheek, the side which you slapped the day before. "I shouldn't have slapped you. I'm sorry." Luckily, you didn't hit him too hard; otherwise, the ring on your finger would've cut his face.

Relieved that you had forgiven him, Xavier grabbed the hand that stroked his cheek. He closed his eyes and basked in your warmth. "Don't be. I scared you, and I deserved that." It was a quiet moment for you. Neither of you really knew what you had to say to each other. All was forgiven, and what awaits is simply the both of you fulfilling the end of your promises.

To fill in the silence, Xavier scooted closer and closer, kissing the exposed part of your collarbone shortly after, burying his face in your chest. You smell like coffee, he thought, but rather than stir him awake, it lulled him to sleep.

It didn't take long for him to snooze off to dreamland; after all, he waited for you for a day, not once sleeping in the hopes that he could see you face to face.

Rafayel:

In this relationship, you're almost always the one who needs to go after him, coddle him like an infant, and practically mend the entire relationship. Almost.

On rare occasions, Rafayel would apologize. That was the case for that big fight between you two. You had gone no-contact, leaving him on read most of the time. You avoided the place where you could likely find him wandering about; after all, it was him who should be going after you in this fight. You didn't owe him anything.

You ended up on the sandy shore of the bay, watching the tides threaten to soil your shoe, only to retreat and slither back into the sea. The cold air brought with it the salty scent of the ocean water, bringing a slight comfort to your nose.

The roughness of the waters masked the crunching sounds of Rafayel's footsteps; only then did you notice his presence when those familiar, gentle arms circled around the dip of your waist.

Silence.

"I was looking for you," he uttered under his breath.

"Why?"

"To apologize."

"Do you even know what you're apologizing for?" That came out of your lips monotonously, yet it struck every fiber of Rafayel's being.

"I said too much. I was mad, and so were you, but that's not an excuse to insult you and your feelings." To Rafayel, the waves were ready to swallow him whole. Like a poor little crab, unable to run away from the sea. "I was wrong for doing that, and I was wrong for shutting you out."

The apology wasn't enough. It was sincere, but it wasn't enough. "You can't keep doing that to me, Raf. You don't even get to give me a chance to speak." You pried away the hands that tried to bring you comfort. "You curse at me, you insult everything about me, and then kick me out like I'm just a major problem you can toss aside."

You could see your lover bite his lip. Anxious.

You love Rafayel, and there's nothing that can change that, and even if you were the one running after him during your fights, he fails to comprehend that you get tired, too.

"I'm an adult," you started. "We both are, Rafayel. But when we fight, why do you belittle me so much? Do you really think that low of me? Do you think you can push me around and make me follow all of your emotional whims?"

"No!" Rafayel exclaimed, in disbelief that your thought process had led you to say what you said. "I was mad. I didn't mean anything that I sai—"

"Then treat me right, Rafayel. Is that so hard to do? Is it really complicated to just…talk? Is it so hard to just sit down on your couch and listen to me?" You kept your lips shut, eyes staring at him without much thought. The usual cheery tone of your voice, nowhere in sight, in its wake, exhaustion. "I can only do so much for you, and I'm growing tired the more you do this to me—I get tired as well, Rafayel. You need to realize that."

The poor man didn't know what to say. Your words invaded his head, ridding it of any thought. They hurt. They stung at his heart. His fingers raised to lightly pull the hem of your sleeve, eyes meeting yours, glossy and flickering with fear; with hesitation, he asked: "Are you…breaking up with me?"

"I love you too much to break up with you." You took his cold hands. "I want to make us work. So help me. I can't do this alone." You tell him.

Your fingers were tiny against his own, yet they belonged in the in-betweens. You closed them and placed a kiss on the back of his palm.

He pulled you into an embrace, tightly, like the world was about to end in a matter of seconds.

He was cold, but his hug was warm. "I promise I'll work on myself. I don't want to hurt you again, and I don't want you to get tired of me." Rafayel whispered in your ear. "So don't give up on me. I'll change…"

The spare hand that hung on your hand gradually crept up his back, finding its usual place between Rafayel's shoulder blades. You rubbed small circles, the only comfort you could provide despite your exhaustion.

"I'll hold you to your word." You pressed a kiss on his cheek. As you did, you realized something you didn't a few minutes before.

Rafayel's exposed neck, his thin clothing, and his sandals didn't cover his whole feet. In the cold seaside, Rafayel looked like a madman wearing an indoor outfit, as if he had just walked out of his home without much thought. No wonder why he was so cold. He was shivering both at the thought of you nearly breaking up with him and because of the chilly mists of water hitting his way.

You unrolled the cotton scarf that warmed your neck, wrapping it around him instead. "Let's head home, I don't want you getting sick."

He quietly complied, pulling away from you but keeping your hand locked with his.

Sylus:

The same things happen again and again; it makes you feel numb. Empty.

There was no difference when you woke up alone or when you woke up in his embrace. Not when you were fighting.

Not tonight.

Sylus was awake. You couldn't see him due to the sheer darkness of his room, but he was there, his thumb brushing against your nape while a leg crossed over yours. You stared off into the corner of the room, wondering who was going to speak first.

"We're not breaking up, sweetie." It was more of a demand rather than a statement.

"We won't," two can play at his game. "If you apologize." Nobody would want to be abandoned and left hanging for a month. Especially not you.

You mustered the strength to push yourself up, expecting a bit of restraint from your lover—to your surprise, he let you stand up.

"Apologize for what, exactly? It was you who decided to test my patience. You were the one who cursed at me, calling me names and even throwing things in my way, so pray-tell, sweetie, what do I have to apologize for?" He stared at you, his gaze unfaltering and intense.

"I'm sorry," you stood your ground, yet the apology was long due. "I don't remember what we fought about, but I apologize. For cursing at you, for throwing things in your face. That won't happen again."

A lengthy breath escaped his lips, sounding unsatisfied with your seemingly half-hearted and shallow apology. Sylus wouldn't want to admit it to you, but he doesn't even know why he was mad; all Sylus knew that evening was that he was overcome with too much anger, one that he would usually release through violence. But it involved you. He doesn't want to hurt you or lay a hand on you, so the best option he has is to get away.

He didn't know for how long he should be gone, and in the blink of an eye, a full month had passed.

His anger had long been gone the same time as your loneliness began to fester.

As simple as the apology sounded, it was more than enough for him. "You're forgiven. Don't do that to me ever again."

The man stood up, and you watched his figure as he strode closer to you. He could see the look in your eyes, the anguish mixed with despair, and as he was about to pull you into a hug, a reverberating slap echoed in his room.

The back of his hand stung. And so did your palm.

"You're not going to touch me until you apologize, too, Sylus." Your throat burned at your own words. Your feet felt like they were buried half an inch into the floor, preventing you from running away. He looked down at you, low-lidded eyes devoid of any life.

"Why should I?"

You wanted to laugh at his crap.

"Why is it that you demand compensation every time I leave you on read for more than 3 days? Why do I have to explain where I've been, who I was with, and why I was gone while you—" A bitter laugh bloomed out of your mouth, "While you come here and not even offer a single bit of an explanation nor an apology?"

Sylus offers nothing in exchange for your words. He avoided you, that he can't deny. He used his work as an excuse to bury you at the back of his head and intentionally minimized your presence in his life.

"Hah," the ache at the back of your neck crept to the back of your head, nearly sending your head to throb all over. "You're unfair, Sylus. You're so goddamn unfair that…" You couldn't continue the words you wanted to say. It will only fan the flame in your heart and his.

"I just," the shiver in your breath snapped Sylus into reality. The feeling in your throat was uncomfortable. It was slowly becoming tangled, choking you of air. "I just want an apology from you, Sylus. Even just a small apology for abandoning me." And the fact that you had to beg him for it is just…

Sylus wrapped his hand around you, keeping your arms in place. You tried to break free from his grasp, but he held on to you tightly, not offering you a way out. Your face was smashed against his chest, and you could hear his heartbeat, pumping, beating all too fast.

"Forgive me," Sylus whispered. "There's no excuse for what I did."

His words were like the key to your eyes as tears began to cascade down your cheeks. There was no need for him to say anything else; it was enough for you. There was no strength left in you to reciprocate his hug, but you wanted to.

Sylus slipped his hand underneath your thighs and lifted you up. Carefully trudging to the bed, he laid you down in the same place you got up, tucking a blanket over you. He got on the bed as well, pulling you closer to his grasp.

"I'll make it up to you tomorrow." He stroked your cheek and placed a kiss on your eyes. "We can talk properly, and I'll apologize again," Sylus said. The same hand that touched your cheek slid down onto your shoulders, caressing it up and down.

The weariness began to settle in. The soft mattress and pillows and his warm touch.

It was getting harder and harder to keep your eyes open, and you didn't know why you were fighting the fatigue, but Sylus' promise helped you settle down.

He doesn't go back on his words and doesn't say things he doesn't mean. You hold him up to his words.

And quietly, you drift off to sleep.

Author footnotes: I changed the writing style to a somewhat story-telling format. I hope you guys don't mind.Layout by me, using canva premium | Do not repost |

[mehwmidklpe]

Percy x reader with reader having the most kindest and purest soul that hasn't been touched by earth or gods madness and just loves everything and shows kindness to EVERYONE

(Basically child of philophrosyne)

that's cute

Oh that smile, that smile that could light up the entire planet within a second.

Those eyes that sparkle brighter then the entire galaxy if you look at them from up close.

That nose that scrunches in the cutest way possible, so cute even babies can't handle it.

Those cheeks that looks so soft you just wanna go full grandma-mode and pinch them.

"Percy!"

"Mhm?" Percy snapped out of his trance–actually, no he didn't, who am I kidding?

"You've been staring at Y/n for 25 minutes now." Grover points out.

Percy frowned. "25 minutes? That's it? Give me another 3 hours."

With that he rested his cheek against his palm again and went back to 'Peter-Parker-staring-at-Liz-in-Spider-Man-homecoming-mode'

Grover snapped his fingers infront of Percy's face, multiple time. "No, stop it, I can't see her like this." The boy whined.

"Well then go up to her. You'll see her from up close by doing it." The satyr responds.

Percy groaned. "I can't do that! I'll make a fool out of myself." "You do that every time and she still comes back to you." Grover reminds his friend.

"Of course she does. She likes everyone. Y/n is like–the nicest person to ever exist!" Percy acknowledges.

Grover sighed. "That might be true, but she's even nicer to you!.. for some reason.."

Percy rolled his eyes. "Don't act like you don't get flustered when she smiles at you, too"

The 24 year old blushed. "Everyone gets nervous around her! And by the way, I have a beautiful girlfriend, and you could have one too if you just go talk to her."

The son of Poseidon shook his head. "I can't do that. By the way, Connor is probably flirting with her again."

"Connor and Y/n have been platonic best friends for years! Even before she knew you. They never got together, they won't start dating right now only because you're in love with her. Now go talk to her."

With that, he pushed him forward, towards you.

Percy took a deep breath and almost tripped before finally approaching you.

When your eyes met his, your entire facelit up even more, he didn't even think that was possible.

"Percy!" Before the boy in question knew it, your hands were around his neck and you pulled him into a hug.

His heart started beating so fast and so loud he was scared you could feel it.

When you pulled back, you smiled at him. "I missed you, we haven't spoken in day."

Percy scratched the back of his neck. "Uhm, yeah, sorry, I just got.. busy.."

You shook your head with that same smile. "It's totally fine. You can make up for it by going to the strawberry field with me."

Percy blinked.

Percy gulped.

Percy opened his mouth.

Percy blinked again.

Percy froze.

"Percy?" You questioned. "Are you okay? Do you not wanna go with me? Oh I'm sorry I just–" "

No, no, I want to!" He quickly said. A bit too quick. A bit too loud.

You let out a small giggle. "Okay, that's great!" With that you took his hand and led him the way, only you walked into Connor on the way.

"Hey Con!"

Con.

"Y/n/n, Percy, such a pleasure seeing you two." Connor grinned. "Heading to the strawberry fields I see? How romantic, have fun!"

You smiled. As always. "Thanks Connor. Have fun pranking Lee!" "How did you know that??" He questioned in disbelief.

You just giggled and started walking again. When Percy went to follow, Connor stopped him.

Percy thought he was gonna prank him, too. For spending time with you.

Instead Connor gave him a flower and patted his back.

"Thank me later."

By the time Percy catched up with you, he qaw you with this little girl.

He remembered she had just arriver at Camp last week.

The girl was holding a flower crown. "This is for you, because you're my best friend." It sounded silly, but then again, she's bery young.

"Aw, it's beautiful, thank you so much, Lily." You said as you took the flower crown from her.

Then, the girl–who's name is probably Lily–'s eyes landed on Percy. She gasped and the wishpered into your ear.

"Is that the boy you keep talking about?" She asks you.

You bit your lip, trying to hide a smile. "Shh, he can hear you. But yes, he is." You wishpered back.

The girl's lips parted. "He's pretty." "He is, isn't he." You agreed.

"Now, I was planning to hang out with him, you can go back to cabin 4 and make some more crowns."

Lily squeeled. "Okay! Bye!" And just like that she run away.

"She seems nice." Percy states. "She's the sweetest." You nod before picking up a strawberry and taking a bite from it.

"Good?" "Amazing. You should try one." Before Percy could say anything else, you had already grabbed another strawberry and walked up to him.

Like a reflex he opened his mouth and let you feed it to him.

And he had to stop himself from blushingw cause if he did, he'd be twining with the straberry.

"Oh yeah, these are great." He nodded. You smiled. "Oh, you have some–" Instead of finishing, you wiped the juice off of his chin.

His ocean eyes followed your every move, and his breath cathed in his troath.

He must've gotten distracted, cause he hadn't noticed you peeking over his shoulder.

"Hey, what do you have behind your back?" You wondered. "Oh, uhm." Percy pulled out the flower Connor had given him.

You gasped. "Oh my gods. Is that for me?" You asked. Percy gulped. "Uh.. yeah.."

"That's my favorite!" You took it from him, held it close and carefully like it was your greatest treasure and smelled it, letting your eyes shut for a second.

The second was to short cause–

"Y/n!"

Annabeth. Freaking. Chase.

Of course she had to show up.

"Oh, I'll be there in a second, Anni!" You called out, tone sweet as always.

"It's beautiful, Perce. Thank you so much, I hope I'll see you later." And you pressed a kiss to his cheek before leaving.

Percy froze.

He forgot how to breath.

He might just pass out.

And maybe he did cause the next thing he knew he was laying in an infirmary bed.

The boy turned his head to the side to find Charles Beckendorf layung on the bed next to him.

"Percy."

"Beckendorf."

"Y/n?"

Nod.

"Silena?"

Nod.

That was all they needed to know.

Oh, and a way to thank Connor for helping out.

[willieverseetheland]

mama?

Dexter Morgan x reader

based on this ask!

Warnings: mentions of death, blood, violence, domestic violence, all the usual Dexter stuff, very much angst Summary: Following Rita’s death, Dexter and reader become close as they deal with the aftermath.

It was a quiet evening. You were sitting on your balcony watching the full, glowing moon. You were deep in thought when your phone began to ring, pulling you back to reality. The caller ID said Dexter Morgan, you thought this was strange as he and Rita were supposed to have left on their honeymoon. Maybe they decided not to bring Harrison along after all. But when you answered, it was a woman's voice.

"Hello? This is Debra Morgan with Miami Metro Homicide, is this y/n?"

"Yes?" You replied with a slight quiver in your voice, confused. Homicide? What is happening? "There's been an incident, Dexter thought you should know. However, he's preoccupied at the moment. Rita..."

Her voice begins to shake, you can sense that she's about to cry

"Um, Rita's been murdered, I understand you two were close."

It was like the entire world stopped. Murdered? Rita was the loveliest, sweetest, most pure-of-heart person you knew. Who would possibly have wanted to hurt her?

The phone slipped out of your hand. Thankfully you were already sitting down, or you may have fell off your balcony. You can hear the woman repeating "hello, are you there?" over the phone. But everything was static. Nothing made sense. As it all began to settle into place, what really happened. You let out a loud sob. Shaking violently, tears streaming down your face. You bang your fist on the ground, screaming. Angry at the world, or whatever higher power that existed. As you sat there and sobbed, you began to think about Harrison, Dexter, Astor, Cody, everyone else who knew and loved Rita. God! Poor Harrison. He hardly got to know his mother.

You think of all the times you saved Rita from Paul. All the late nights scared it would be the last time. Scared, because you didn't know when it would be the last punch, kick, slap. There were honestly times you thought he would kill her. You thought you had prepared yourself for this, but how could you, how could anyone. When he died, you were there to support Rita of course, but deep down you were glad. You saw first-hand how he treated her, how it affected the kids.

Rita was like a sister to you. You considered yourself like an aunt to those kids. A piece of you died today, something you don't know if you'll ever get back.

--

You were awoken by the sound of loud honking. You open your eyes to see the bright morning sun over Miami. It made you angry, how could the world go on when yours came crashing down less than 24 hours ago. You look around, you must've cried yourself into exhaustion and passed out on your balcony.

You go back inside. Your cat comes up to nudge your leg. You look down at him and he just stares at you and meows. You wish you could be like him, blissfully unaware of all the evil in the world.

You go to make a pot of coffee, but you just collapse on the floor of your kitchen. How can you go on? Rita is dead. Harrison, Astor, and Cody just lost their mother. Dexter lost his wife. And yet the world keeps spinning. Your phone buzzes in your pocket, it's your boss. You look at the time, you were supposed to be at work an hour ago.

"Fuck" you sigh, leaning your head back against your kitchen counter

You answer, telling him you won't be coming in today, death in the family. He can be a dick at times, but he's understanding when it comes to this.

You scan your apartment. Eyes settling on the picture on your bedside table. You walk over to it, picking it up. It's a photo of you, Dexter, Rita, and the kids at Rita's birthday party. You place it face down; you can't bear to look at it right now.

Dexter lingers in your mind. God! How could you be so selfish? He must be in shambles right now. Grieving the death of his wife and having to be responsible for little Harrison. Maybe you should go check on him, see Harrison. Might take your mind off of things. Or make things worse. You don't know. Either way you need to do something.

You throw on a sweater and your shoes. You know the house is likely still a crime scene so you can't go there. Dex and Harrison are probably with his sister, who conveniently lives at his old apartment, so finding the place won't be too difficult. You drive like a bat out of hell, trying to get there as fast as you can.

You arrive and knock on the door, no one answers. You knock again, still no answer. You figure nobody is home, so you turn to leave. As you start walking away, you hear the handle turn, and the door unlatch. You turn around, seeing Dexter peering out from the crack in the door. You greet him with a warm smile as he opens the door fully. You immediately lean in for a hug, which he doesn't move away from but doesn't exactly reciprocate. He just stands there with his arms at his side, stiff. He does lean his chin on your shoulder though. He sighs in relief, shoulders loosening.

"Deb called me last night, told me what happened. I know it's probably a stupid question, but how are you?" You look in his eyes, sincerity and empathy written all over your face.

He knows this is hard on you too.

"I'm doing okay, I have to, for him." He turns to look at Harrison, sleeping soundly in his crib.

You two go to sit on the couch, you place a hand on his shoulder, trying to be comforting.

"I found him sitting in a pool of her blood" He turns to look at you, face empty, exhausted.

Your hands fly to your mouth as you gasp

"Dexter, my god. I'm so sorry" Tears begin to well up in your eyes

"If it's too much you don't have to answer, but how did it happen exactly? Deb told me she was murdered, but not what happened."

"You've seen the trinity killer on the news, right?" He turns to look at you

"A single cut to her thigh, slicing the femoral artery. She bled out." His voice is steady, concise.

Anyone who didn't know Dexter would think he's unbothered, but you know this is just him. He's devastated on the inside.

"I, I uh... that's horrible, I'm sorry you had to see that." Your voice is soft, comforting.

"If it's any help, I wouldn't mind watching over Harrison for a few days, while you get the funeral things figured out. And Astor and Cody, if needed."

"They're with their grandparents, they don't know yet. They're coming back today. Thank you, that would actually be a big help." He gives you a slight smile, you can tell it's forced but you appreciate the effort.

--

The days go by, each one as painful as the previous. Everyone tells you to take it one day at a time, but nothing is changing. Nothing is getting better. Her funeral was devastating, you cried the entire time. You tried to stay strong, for the kids, but seeing her lying there, you couldn't. She looked beautiful, like she was sleeping. Astor and Cody went to stay with their grandparents in Orlando, which you know is hard on Dexter. He really loves them. You switched your hours around so you could work nights and watch Harrison during the day while Dex is at work. Harrison has been the only highlight of your life recently, one of the only things you have left of Rita. He's truly an amazing child, and thankfully he doesn't seem to be affected by what happened. You know Dexter was really concerned about that.

You've tried to be there for Dexter as well, but he hasn't been as accepting. You understand though. However, it's what Rita would want you to do. She always trusted you to take care of her family. You considered Rita to be like a sister, and it's what you would do for family.

You take Harrison back home that afternoon. Dexter has the biggest smile on his face as he takes Harrison into his arms, he's a great father and loves Harrison so much.

"How was he?" He questions

"Wonderful as always, he's such a little angel" You smile

"But the real question is, how are you, Dexter?"

"You don't have to worry about me, I'm fine" There's a hint of irritation in his voice

"Dexter, but I do worry about you. You've just suffered a great tragedy. I just want to be sure you're okay"

"I just told you I am okay, why do you care so much anyways?" He shakes his head and places Harrison in his crib

"It's what Rita would've wanted!" You exclaim

He turns around to look at you, you can see that he's distraught. Being a single parent is never easy, especially one that's grieving.

He sighs

"Yeah, I guess you're right. I really am okay, I promise" He gives you another one of his classic fake smiles, you know he doesn't want to talk about it anymore, so you don't press

"Alright, if you insist"

--

It's been almost a year since Rita's death now. You still miss her like crazy, but things have gotten easier. Harrison is walking and talking which has been very emotional, you wish Rita was here to see it. He's become a part of your regular routine now. Dexter offered to pay you to be his nanny, but you declined, quite aggressively. Dexter kept insisting but you would not accept under any circumstances. Spending all this time with Harrison has also meant spending quite a lot of time with Dexter as well. You've grown to really care for him.

One morning, you were over at Dexter's feeding Harrison breakfast. Dexter was getting ready for work. He came out of the bedroom, shirt unbuttoned. You couldn't help but stare, which made you feel guilty. You admired his hands as he swiftly fastened the buttons, his arms as he rolled up his sleeves, his sculpted chest peeking through the top of his shirt. You felt wrong. He comes over to give Harrison a kiss on the head. As he walks by, his shoulder brushes yours. You blush, in embarrassment and due to your true feelings. As you airplane another spoon of yogurt into Harrison's mouth, out comes something that shocks you to your core.

"Mama" Harrison babbles

You and Dexter immediately make eye contact. Your eyes are blown open wide, mouth agape.

"I'm so sorry, I have no idea why he would say that" You panic

"It's alright, he doesn't know any different" Dexter reassures you

You and Dexter just stand there, looking at each other. He smiles, a genuine smile this time. Something you've missed seeing.

He wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you close. He brings his hand to your cheek and leans in, placing a tender kiss on your lips. You immediately melt. You felt so guilty for feeling the way you did, falling for a man who was grieving his dead wife. You bring your hands up to hold his face. Deepening the kiss. When you pull away, you can't help but smile a big goofy grin. Dexter is smiling too, which makes your heart flutter.

You stand there in comfortable silence, before Dexter announces he has to go, and that he wants you to be here when he gets home. He kisses your cheek and leaves. Your heart feels so full. However, you still feel guilty, like you're betraying Rita, but you also feel like this is what she would want. You know her family well, and you love them like they're your own.

You lay Harrison down for a nap, kissing him on the forehead. You grab a cup of coffee and go outside. It's a chilly spring morning. As you're looking out over Miami, a white butterfly lands on your finger. A tear rolls down your, cheek. You've never been much of a spiritual person, but you know it's her, and suddenly everything starts to feel like it's going to be okay.

...

Literally almost cried while writing this, I love Rita so much. I hope I did your vision justice! Sorry it's so long lol

[dwaekkicidal]

Hey cutie, you've done puppy Seungmin and WolfChan, but what about when the bunny reader is in heat? I mean, she's always grinding on Channie, giving him hickies everywhere, just feeling way more possessive than she normally does, she's just onto him 24/7. (Also, if you're comfortable, please could you describe the reader as chubby? Sorry, English is my fourth language lol 😅)

Also, I looove your work. You're one of my most favourite Tumblr writers.

🥲🥲🥲 that last comment got me kicking my feet n shit :')) thank u that means a lot to me <3

wc» ~600

cw» kinda? chubby fem!reader, bunny!hybrid reader, heats, p in v, breeding (everybody act surprised), pregnancy mentions: 'kits' are baby bunnies btw

❥ Chris absolutely LOVES when your heat is coming around. He loves how clingy you get and the way you rub your face on everything you can.

❥ It's just all so endearing to him. The way you stay glued to his arm when you're out and about with him, and then once you're home you just push him onto the couch and throw yourself on top of him, expecting his immediate attention and cuddles.

❥ And the way you rub your cheek all over his arms or his tummy when you're cuddling with him, it being your nonverbal way of requesting his love and affection.

❥ He gets sooo riled up when your heat first hits. He always notices the day it starts, but you never seem to connect the dots. As if the way you latch yourself onto his neck and suck pretty, dark marks into his neck as your nails dig into his arm don't give it away.

❥ Your foggy little brain doesn't really process why the sloppy makeout sessions get you so built up and horny, or why you suddenly need his hands on you at all times during these sessions. It's almost as if you're subconsciously trying to make him claim you

❥ He feels like get into his own "human heat" when yours starts. The way you need him and his seed so carnally at all hours of the day drives him insane. Even more so when he wakes up the next morning to shower and finds deep, red scratches all over his arms and his back- he's almost the one waking you up ready to go again.

❥ It's still endearing even as you grind down onto him on the couch during movie night. Your lack of panties under your shorts being obvious thanks to the slick that's getting all over his sweatpants and leaving a dark spot right above his dick

❥ He'll just sit there with a dopey smile on his face as his fingers dig into the fat of your hips, helping you use him to get off, and even encouraging you.

"Shh... Good job baby. Take what's yours, yeah?"

"Channie's got you, Bunny. Keep being good and I'll breed you nice a deep."

❥ AbsoLUTELY eggs on your desire to get bred during your heat. During downtime will show you pictures of little Bunny-hybrid kits (that vaguely look like one of you) and will just so happen to scroll past baby clothes when he's doing online shopping "for us"

❥ And when he has you below him, bent into a million positions and drooling all over your nest, he's going to talk non-stop about how good you'll look round and full of his babies- of "our kits"

❥ He's gonna pound you so good and so deep as he says all these things, even telling you that he's gonna breed your heat away; that he's gonna fuck you so well and get you so pregnant so often that you won't remember what a heat even is

❥ Loves grabbing onto your tummy and pushing down onto it when he has you in missionary- making you really feel how deep he is and how deep his cum will be soon

❥ Sometimes even just rubs your stomach and says something about how "This is where my babies are" and how he's gonna keep his kin safe no matter what

❥ Is already a huge "boobs guy" and literally jumps off the fucking walls when he latches onto your tits and says something like "I need to enjoy these while I can. When we have kids, I won't be able to see them nearly as often" Will pout sooo hard while saying that and looks at them as if the world is ending

[yourshaylaa]

summary: valentine's day? this is nerdjo's perfect chance! pt.1

song list: (hella short cuz this is short)

espresso- sabrina carpenter

obsessed- mariah carey

kiss it better- rihanna

"i-i... well um, i think you're uhh, very... pretty... and i um, you'r-"

"so you mean i'm hot and you can't stop staring?" you say in a judgy voice, unable to comprehend what's going on— or 'flabbergasted' as what the dumbass in front of you calls it. "listen up, nerd: i know i'm a looker, and i don't need someone like you to remind me of that, mmkay? so scram." you say, pushing past like what? the 13th dumbass? and you're not even two hours in.

you look to your side, just to be met by satoru, a loyal puppy. even though he was the smartest, he did your homework for free, unlike the other nerds who'd grown some balls thinking they had a chance with you— except for the chance to finish your essays.

pretty face adorned with baby blue eyes, satoru wasn't that ugly. in fact, he wasn't ugly at all. just that... he was a nerd. with nerdy glasses, nerdy clothes, and thick, nerdy books in his hands 24/7. flustered, stuttering mess. hey, but he looks so cute wrapped around your finger, ain't that right?

"well," he chuckles and pushes his glasses up with an index. damn, 5 inch fingers? what about his co- "you're getting a lot of confessions, huh?" he shakes his head head slightly and walks alongside you.

"mhm... it's exhausting." you say tiredly, with a hint of smug in your voice. "oh, and did you finish my assignment? need to hand it over next period." you inquire, expecting the work. satoru was never late to anything. punctual, perfect, and what not? would be your mom's dream if you brought him home.

"oh, yeah! i did it for you, and i guarantee you'll get an A!" he says proudly, looking over at you.

"uhh.. okay, now hand it over?" you say with a bit of attitude, your hand open as you observe him scrambling for it in some bag. "here! here is it!" he hands it to you like some sacred treasure. you look at the paper, looking at what he wrote before you catch a glimpse of red and some scrunching of wrappers as he zips the bag up. your eyebrows furrow as realise what it is. roses. and chocolates. who the fuck is he giving that to?

"what's that?" you ask sternly, looking up at him, the assignment completely forgotten. "the thing in your bag. who's that for, huh?" you push him against a wall, quickly pinning him.

"w-what do you mean? i-i don't know what yo-"

"the roses. and chocolates. in your bag right now, who's that for, eh? some other nerdy slut? that blondie cheerleader? psst- she won't accept it, cut it out. no one would." you say harshly, not a single bit jealous. scoff, you've never been jealous in your life.

a flicker of emotions flash by his face and then it settles to a one of annoyance.

"not even you?" he says, a hint of smugness in his face.

"what?" you say, now truly 'flabbergasted'. what does he mean by that? there's no way he's...

"well, since no one would accept me... i guess you won't get those." he signals to the bag with his eyes and looks back into your eyes deeply. a full blown smirk adorns his face, the 'next period' completely out of mind.

"wait, i didn't mean that, come on!" you retorted. how could he speak to you like that? you were the famous y/n, who would not confess to you? you take the roses and chocolates out of his bag, and shove it into his hands. "now do it, properly. say how much you love me and what you find hot about me."

"i know you have guys all over you all the time, but they're all just desperate and weak. i ain't like them. i'm confident and i know what i want. and what i want is you. you're absolutely hot, and nobody else is gonna have you. so yeah, i want you, and i'm not takin' no for an answer."

lips crash and feelings form, you taking the first move. tongues moving and doing more to express more than words. you both knew you both wanted this. he switches positions and puts a leg in between yours, making it unable for you to escape. his thigh rubs against yours and he gropes you, out in the hallway, where anyone could see. but no one was around, and that was all that mattered (you as well). he breaks the kiss, a string of saliva connecting your lips.

"y/n, please... i need you so much right now."

pt.2