#I probably shouldn’t read more at work but I’ve been reading this all week and

[jenevawashere]

I’ve been reading Sansûkh for the first time and holy shit chapters 31-33—!

I don’t know how I didn’t start crying when my theory was proven right at the end of 31. 32-33 are both painful and sweet.

Painful for obvious reasons to past readers and sweet (and sad) because of the Dead Dwarf Peanut Gallery had a makeshift family reunion with their living cousin.

I’m half expecting the burglar to drift and show up in the middle of Pelennor and save his love’s dumb kingly ass 😂

[exopelagic]

I am baking cake at midnight and it is going to kill me <3

[rafesangelita]

⊹₊⟡⋆♡ having a pregnancy scare wasn’t on rafe and pogue!sweetheart!reader’s to do list anytime soon.. but alas, here they are waiting to see if two pink lines will change the trajectory of their lives forever.

warnings: pregnancy, mentions of a breeding kink lol, super sweet fluff, slight humor, lots of crying

a/n: this is my not-so-subtle way of introducing babydaddy!rafe to my blog (i’ve been reading a lot of babydaddy!rafe lately.. yum) also just a reminder: pogue!sweetheart!reader is only pregnant in this fic alone. meaning any other works i create with her are not correlated with this one UNLESS stated so <3 you could keep up with this little universe under the second tag of this post: ‘₊˚⊹♡ pogue!sweetheart!reader & babydaddy!rafe’

w/c: 1.3k

“a-are you sure you’re late?” rafe was pacing back and forth, tears pricking your eyes as you flipped through your little calendar book. “yes! i look at my calendar everyday rafe, it’s been three weeks!” you sniffled, checking for the millionth time. rafe joined you on your bed, realizing he probably wasn’t making you feel any better if he was freaking out too. “hey..” he cupped your chin, “it’s gonna be okay, baby. what do you need me to do? ‘want me to go get some tests from the store?” you cried even more, the whole thing becoming too real all at once. “i don’t know! i don’t know what to do, ray!”

he sighed, holding you as you wept in his arms. “oh, baby,” rafe rubbed your back, “you know i’m going to take care of us, of you.” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. he wiped the tears from your eyes, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “i know.. it’s just— this is so new, and even though we don’t have a for sure answer yet, i feel like i really am. you know.. pregnant?” saying it out loud made rafe’s heart drop to his stomach. you saw the way his expression softened, his eyes flickering down to where you two held hands.

while it shouldn’t be too surprising, considering you two never use protection.. it’s still a delicate matter that rafe took very seriously. “am i gonna sound crazy if i say i hope that you are?” you took a breath, stroking the side of rafe’s face. “no. i want it too.” letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, he pulled you against his chest, embracing you once again. “why don’t we find out? ‘go to the pharmacy and get some tests?” you nodded, the anticipation already feeling unbearable. “okay.” you pulled away, getting under your knitted blanket.

“you’re not going with me?” rafe laughed. “are you joking? the owner has known me forever. if he see’s us buying a pregnancy test, he’ll—” you lowered your voice down to a whisper, “he’ll know what we’ve been doing..” your cheeks heated at the thought of the sweet old man who’s known you for all of your life checking you out for a test that indicates you’ve been doing a lot more than just baking cookies. “baby, if you didn’t live in the middle of nowhere, and far away from any kind of civilization, everyone on this island would know what we’ve been doing.” he winked.

at his words, you shooed him out of your camper as a giggle escaped your lips. he wasn’t wrong. rafe knew all the ways to make you scream and tremble in pure bliss. it felt like forever since rafe had been out, but one glance at the heart shaped clock on your wall, and it had only been ten minutes. you laid on your back, fingertips skimming your tummy. imagining a baby, half of you, and half of rafe, a result of two worlds, both full of so much love, colliding into one and making the most beautiful creation you were sure to ever see, made a smile grace your pretty face.

now you were thinking about a nursery, wondering if you’d be painting it baby pink or powder blue. either color was fine with you. sitting up, you looked around your camper, really seeing just how small it was. you and rafe barely fit in here together, let alone with a little baby that’ll eventually grow and want to run around. now you felt sad at the indication that you might have to move out of the only place you’ve ever known. this would change your life, but with rafe by your side you felt more ready than ever. just as you were going to call rafe and politely tell him to hurry up, he walked through the door.

“i wasn’t sure which one you wanted, so i just grabbed one of each.” rafe gave you the bag, plopping down next to you. there was about ten different tests in there, including a lot of the snacks you’d been craving over the last week. sour gummy bears, chocolate, and spicy chips mostly. taking out a pink box, you read the instructions before looking back at rafe who already had his full attention on you. “can you come with me?” without hesitation, rafe helped you up and guided you to the bathroom. “alright..” he leaned against the doorframe, watching as you unwrapped the test.

“i can’t really pee if you’re looking..” rafe had zoned out, thinking about house hunting already and wondering what kind of car seat would be the safest for a baby. “right, i’m sorry.” he turned around, swallowing the lump in his throat. rafe needed the confirmation just as much as you did, his stomach doing somersaults as he nervously bit his lip. “you okay?” he asked. you hummed, peeing on the stick before setting it down on a piece of toilet paper. washing your hands shortly after, you and rafe left the test in the bathroom as you waited in silence.

“my heart is beating so fast right now.” you laughed, on the verge of tears as rafe rubbed circles into the flesh of your thigh. “i want you to know something..” rafe whispered, “whatever those test results come out to; negative or positive, we’re going to be okay. i don’t want you to worry about a thing, alright?” your chin wobbled as you nodded, your head falling in the curve of his neck. you stayed quiet for the rest of the time, the timer on rafe’s phone going off. “oh, god..” you whimpered, motioning for rafe to grab the test. “don’t look at it, just bring it over!” you called out.

rafe walked back with his eyes closed, nearly bumping into the wall as his hands trembled with excitement. “where are you?” he kept his eyes screwed shut, in which you followed suit. “i’m right here.” you squeaked out, holding onto his wrists. “on three we’re gonna look down.” you nodded even though he couldn’t see you. “okay, i’m ready.” both of you smiled. “one, two, three—” both of you looked down, rafe jumping and running out of your camper as you stared down at the sight of two, very prominent, pink lines. rafe was shouting outside, the sound making you laugh as you took a seat on the couch.

“oh my god.” rafe poked his head in, your teary eyes meeting his. thankfully, he was able to read the room and calmed down a bit. “oh my god.” he repeated, kneeling down in front of you. “are you okay? are you happy?” rafe rubbed the side of your thighs, his touch providing a comfort like no other. “yes! i just can’t believe it..” you hugged him, his arms wrapping around your waist. “we have a lot of planning to do.” you sniffled, pressing a kiss to his cheek. rafe could already see it. the white house, the white picket fence, both of you were already two steps closer to your dreams becoming a reality.

“yeah, we do,” he agreed, “let’s just take it one day at a time, yeah?” you smiled, cupping his face. “i love you so much, this is crazy.” he kissed your lips before taking the test in his hands again. “a whole baby..” you were in utter disbelief. “maybe i should take the rest of the tests?” you stood up, taking the plastic bag with you to the bathroom. by the time you finished, the sun was already setting, both you and rafe staring at the approximately ten tests in front of you. all positive. “looks like we took the breeding kink a little too seriously, huh?” you looked up at rafe through his reflection in the mirror. “that was a good one.”

[jj-one]

STRAY KIDS + WHEN YOU’RE BUSY AND THEY CRAVE YOUR ATTENTION !

this is smut, do not interact if under 18

pairing: skz x f!reader genre/tags: smut, fluff, nipple play, fingering, exhibitionism, voyeurism, marking, sexting, sending nudes, piv, unprotected sex (don't be silly, wrap ur willy), masturbation, oral (f receiving), dry humping, pussy slapping, multiple orgasms, spanking, there is probably more but i’m too lazy to write them all words: 4.4k

[note] if you remember seeing this before yes i’m the original author i didn’t plagiarize lol, i made a new blog and was formerly known as @milkychae but deleted a while ago. i’ll be reposting all my old deleted fics and using this as an archive !

BANG CHAN. It was finals week, aka your personal hell. You were always super nervous about tests and if you didn’t score over an 80% that may as well be a failure to you. You sighed as you opened yet another textbook to read, your dickhead professor thought it would be a good idea to pile more homework on top of the fact knowing you all needed to study. Your major was biochemical engineering so you shouldn’t have been too shocked by all this intense workload. As you were sitting on the bed you heard a noise come from the door, looking to the left of you to see Chan coming inside. You don’t really put much thought into it though since you see him literally everyday and you were just really focused on studying right now. That’s when Chan starts to come up behind you, rubbing your shoulders and planting a kiss to your cheek.

“Hiii y/n, I’m back!” He says cheerfully, “I couldn’t wait to see you baby,” he proceeds to try and pry the textbook out of your hands so you can give him your full, undivided attention but you pull it back.

“Sorry babe but I really, really need to study right now.” You tell him with an exhausted look on your face. You’ve been studying for only 2 and a half hours but it feels like the entire day.

Chan looks at you and puts his arm around you, “You look so tired sweetie, why don’t you let me give you a massage?” He asks, already starting by wrapping his hands back on your shoulders.

You loved this man dearly, he just came back home from an 8 hour shift at work but is still offering to give you massages and help you out when you’re stressed. You want to tell him no and that you seriously need to focus back on studying but the intrusive thoughts were slowly winning. Ultimately you gave in to Chan’s desires and he gave you a gentle massage. The massage started off pure at first with no intention of going any further but then his hands slipped a little too far and came in contact with your nipple. He noticed you weren’t wearing a bra underneath so he slips his hand through the opening of your t-shirt, light moans were now leaving your mouth from his touch.

“I’ve been thinking about fucking you all day babe,” Chan softly whispers while pinching your nipples, bringing his other hand down to your thigh and gently caressing it. Chan has always been good at being a distraction for you and his cock is definitely what you need instead of reading about the Principles and Techniques of Molecular Physics.

LEE KNOW. Saturday nights were the best, you had no work and got to do whatever you wanted for the whole day. You weren’t much of an outgoing kind of person so you chose to stay in and have your boyfriend Minho come over and be lazy with you. You were wrapped up in your cozy sherpa blanket watching your favorite kdrama season finale, you and Minho both loved kdramas but you got way too into them. Your eyes have been glued to the show since Minho got there and you only spoke about three sentences to him. He’s sitting on the couch next to you and he’s not as remotely interested in the show as you are, he keeps looking around the room and sneaking glances at you from time to time.

He can’t stop noticing how cute you look today, you were wearing very light makeup and had messy hair. He thought you looked so adorable in your current state, just in awe of your natural beauty. He wraps his arm tightly around you and tries to give you a kiss, but you quickly pull away from him so you can focus back on the TV, not trying to miss anything. Minho gets visibly upset by this, he wants to give you his affection yet you’re currently denying it. He tries one more time to kiss you but you continue to keep pulling away to watch the show. That’s when he decides he’s had enough and grabs the remote to turn off the TV, causing you to get frustrated with him.

“What the hell Minho?!” You say in confusion, you were getting so close to knowing who the girl’s father finally was.

He doesn’t say anything, instead he just starts roughly kissing you, pushing you down on the couch and hovering over your body. He pulls away leaving you breathless, then proceeds to nibble on your earlobe, dragging his tongue further down to lightly suck on your neck, touching a certain spot that makes you inhale sharply. He brings one of his hands to your stomach, rubbing it gently. Beginning to toy with the hem of your sweatpants and wants nothing more than for them to be off.

He was almost going to give in to that idea but a new one came to mind, an even more sinister thought. He grins as he continues rubbing down your thigh, you want him to wipe that smirk off his face so badly because you have no idea what he’s up to. Wondering what he could possibly be thinking about right now. Minho brings his fingers to your clothed heat, sliding them inside the sweatpants and starts rubbing your clit through your panties. You moan for him as you close your eyes, feeling the friction. You buck your hips in the air so you can feel more of him, but Minho grips your hips and holds them firmly in place.

“No, stop. No moving ‘til I say so,” Minho says sternly, giving your clothed pussy a little slap as he looks at you. “Since you’re so willing to ignore me, I get to tell you what to do from now on.”

CHANGBIN. You’ve been cleaning the entire house preparing for your parents to come over for dinner. You wanted to make sure that everything was perfectly spotless and the amount of cleaning you did today could account for your whole lifetime. You were cleaning the stove and just as you were about to grab another clean sponge you see Changbin with a whole box full of donuts from Krispy Kreme.

“How’s it goin’ babe?” Changbin asks while setting the donuts onto the table, he sees you wearing an apron and giant yellow gloves, “looks like you’ve been doing some serious, hard labor!”

“I’ve been cleaning for 5 hours now..” You say with an exhausted look on your face, “I haven’t even finished cleaning the stove yet.”

“Who cares about the stove y/n,” Changbin says, chuckling at your frustration about needing everything to be neat and tidy.

“I’m serious Binnie, I need to clean everything and make sure it’s all perfect!” You tell him while pouting.

“Why don’t you take a break babe.” He suggests out of concern, grabbing your hands to take your gloves off and sets them aside. He slowly brings your body up against the wall behind you, kissing you passionately. He must have been wanting you all day by the way he was hungrily kissing you, the man was sucking on your face for dear life, exploring the depths of your mouth as both your tongues were intertwined. He takes off your apron and grips his hands around your waist while your leg wraps around him, he held you so securely.

As things got more heated, and all your clothes were off, he aligned himself inside you. Your hands were snaked around his neck as you desperately move your hips to feel his cock, feeling every bit of his thrusts in you. Letting out a high-pitched moan as you grab a fistful of his hair and scream his name. Your legs grew weak with each and every stroke Changbin gives you, feeling like you’re going to faint. He continues pounding into you like no tomorrow and you hold tightly onto his shoulders for support. His skin was sticky and sweaty from all the work he’s putting into fucking you, his face looked super focused as he was hitting all the right spots. He was fucking all your stress away at this point and you were feeling so good. You feel yourself coming to your peak as he thrusts into your dripping heat, you’re seeing stars at this point. The harder his strokes were getting, the faster you were to reaching your climax.

“Mmm…gonna cum!” You cry out in pleasure, slowly losing your grip on him as you slip from his grasp. Changbin swiftly picks you up and pins you harder into the wall, making sure you don’t go anywhere by fully pinning his body up against yours. You feel so connected to each other in this very moment as you’re both about to cum, both letting out a string of moans in unison. You both reach your highs together, dizzy as your orgasm washes over you, feeling his cum leaking out of your cunt and dripping down to your leg. You just spent the whole day cleaning and now you have to get cleaned up before your parents come in approximately 30 minutes.

HYUNJIN. It was a long day at work, you were about 6 hours in and you already wanted to end it all. You work at a clothing store and on this particular day for some reason everyone and their mom wanted to come shopping. You’ve been working the register nonstop and you had yet to take a break, you were so busy that you forgot to even take one. You asked one of your coworkers if they could cover for you while you go on lunch and they said yes. You were so excited to finally be able to get to sit down and eat. As you sat in the break room you checked your phone for any missed messages, you see that you have a bunch of missed texts from the new guy you’re seeing. Hyunjin’s name is plastered on your phone and you check the messages straight away, eyes growing wide at what was shown before you. Hyunjin sent you a string of messages:

‘Hey y/n, what’s up?’ [1:15 pm]

‘Imyyy’ [1:25 pm]

‘Wyd? Are you at work?’ [1:42 pm]

‘Yea you’re prob at work :P’ [2:26 pm]

‘I’m a little horny lol’ [2:41 pm]

‘I want youuuu’ [3:02 pm]

He then proceeds to send you a couple shirtless pics of him in bed and a short video of him stroking his erect cock through his boxers. You quickly look around to see if anyone would be able to notice and you don’t see anyone else in the break room besides you. That’s when you open the video fully to see the rest, quickly get turned on as your wetness is only growing. You ran to the bathroom so you can send a photo back, snapping a quick pic of your boobs under your shirt and telling him how wet that video made you at work. You love that he now comes to you for when he feels needy, you like that he craves your attention while you’re gone. He sends you another message saying how much badly he wants to fuck you and he can’t to pick you up from work. You smile at that and tell him you only have 2 more hours to go.

You realize it’s time to get back to work and now all you can think about is that damn video Hyunjin sent you. The way he was stroking his cock all nice and slow made you want to be there to give him even more pleasure. You were walking around all day with wet and sticky panties since you came a little bit from fingering yourself in the bathroom to the video. You couldn’t wait to bounce on Hyunjin’s cock all night after you get off work.

HAN. This was now the fifth dress you tried on and you still haven’t figured out a style you liked yet. You were getting frustrated but you weren’t going to let your pickiness get you down from shopping. You were at the mall with your boyfriend Han and as much as he hated shopping he liked to see you try on the pretty dresses for him so it was a win-win. You go to a different store now and you check out those dresses, making a beeline for the pink ones since that was your favorite color. You check out all the various designs and ask Han which ones he liked best, he didn’t really give much input and just picked the shortest one for you.

You gave him a playful side eye and put the dresses you didn’t like back, heading over to the dressing room so you can try everything on. As you were trying on the dresses, Han was sitting on a bench outside the door, texting all his homies. He soon started to notice how long it’s taking you in there and although you were busy trying on dresses he was getting tired of sitting here and waiting for what seemed like an eternity. He sighs as he figures out what to do, but he ends up deciding to knock on your dressing room door. You don’t reply but he can hear stuff rustling from the inside so he knocks again and tells you it’s just him.

“Uh… I think I need help,” you tell him reluctantly, he’s not sure what you need help with but he comes in anyway. He sees you standing in the dressing room with your hands in the air and the dress halfway up your body, he starts to laugh at how you were stuck in it.

“This isn’t a laughing matter, please help get this damn thing off of me!” You whine, and he begins to unzip the dress from the back, releasing you from its tight grip. You feel like you can finally breathe once again and slip the dress off of you, now completely naked in front of Han. You were only wearing your skimpy g-string and you had your nipples pierced which Han loved about you. He looks you up and down, licking his lips as if he was about to destroy you. The only thought in his head right now was to kiss you, so he grabs your face and crashes his lips into yours, moving some of your hair out the way. You kiss him back but harder and even more passionately, letting him fondle your boobs and play with your piercing. As he toys with your nipples he looks at you with pure lust, his eyes were all hazy and he looked nothing but in love with you. He started kissing your chin and licked the side of your neck, making you get all wet and worked up for him.

“We shouldn’t be doing this right here baby,” you tell Han as he continues roaming all over your body.

“Doesn’t that make you wanna do it even more though?” He says mischievously, sucking on your neck and giving you small hickies. You knew the chances of getting caught were very high but at this moment, you didn’t really seem to care. All you wanted right now was Han and that’s all that was on your mind. His hands slid down between your legs, spreading your pussy lips with his fingers and coating them with your essence. Your wetness was leaking down to your thighs and it took everything in you not to scream from Han’s touch. He inserts two fingers in your tight little hole and goes in and out slowly, you press your lips together trying not to make a sound, so he covers your mouth.

“Shhh… quiet babe,” He whispers into your ear.

FELIX. It’s not secret to Felix that you were a workaholic, you often immersed yourself in your work a little too much. He knows you are an independent woman that enjoys the freedom of working but at the same time he really wishes you’d give that same energy towards him sometimes. You traveled a lot for work and although you two live together, it still puts a strain on your relationship being apart for long periods of times. Felix loves to be around his lover and the fact you are always so busy with work makes him want to shower you with even more love and affection when he sees you. You were gone on another usual business trip but this time it was for a week, that was the longest you’ve gone for work and it was driving him insane. Everyday he thought of you and he would text you little things that he saw randomly throughout the day that reminded him of you. You always appreciated how much Felix adored you and your work ethic, he loved you for you.

The day you came back home from work Felix came to you with open arms, he was more than excited to see you again and all he wanted for the past week was the attention of his beautiful lover.

“I’ve missed you so so much baby,” Felix says whilst giving you the biggest hug, his body was so warm and you melted right into him. You gave him a kiss and he moves you both over to the couch, pulling away from kissing you for a second with a weird grin plastered on his face.

“What’s with that look?” You ask, wondering what he’s thinking in that head of his.

“I got you a little something, I’ll be right back,” he quickly runs to your shared room and comes back with a black box in his hand.

“What’s this?” You ask curiously, holding the box up to examine what it could be.

“Just open it, you’ll be surprised.”

You do as you’re told and open the box, you see a purple velvet bag and you open to see what’s inside. It was a vibrator, it had multiple settings and looked very high quality and expensive. You instantly blushed as you held the item in your hand, looking up at Felix so he can explain what’s going on.

“I wanted to get something to relieve your stress..” he continues “because you’re always so busy and stuff, y’know.”

You smile at the naughty gift your boyfriend gave you, giving him another kiss and thanking him.

“Want to use it on me now?” You ask, knowing that he’ll say yes to you in a heartbeat. Felix’s eyes light up like a kid in a candy store and he agrees without hesitation. He sits next to you on the couch with the toy in his hand and you’re now making out. As one thing leads to another, you end up naked lying on your back with your legs spread wide out for him. He has the toy on one of the highest settings and you’ve squirted about three times for him already.

“Come on baby, you can give me another. Just one more,” Felix says demandingly, having too much fun with this toy.

You spring your head back as you feel the toy in your soaking wet entrance, you don’t know how much more of this you can take. Your legs were violently shaking and the couch was soaked with your juices, you felt like you didn’t have anything left in you. Felix keeps fucking the toy in and out of you making you scream out for him, he palms himself through his pants as he does it.

“I never want you to be away from me again y/n,” Felix’s deep voice rasps as he pumps the toy into you deeper, “I mean it this time.”

SEUNGMIN. You were laughing hysterically as you were scrolling through TikTok, you’ve been glued to your phone for hours at this point. You showed Seungmin, who was sitting next to you on his bed yet another TikTok that he probably wouldn’t think is funny. You put the screen up to his face to show him the video and he looks but doesn’t really seem that interested. You tell him how funny you think the video is and he just shrugs his shoulders.

“You know, I’d rather have you shoved in my face rather than a phone.” Seungmin says to you.

‘Ok boomer’ you think to yourself, not wanting to actually say it incase he gets offended. You decide to just ignore his comment and go back to watching hilarious TikToks. Seungmin starts to get bored and he when he gets bored he becomes bratty. You hear him whine a little bit, looking up from your phone to see him pouting and all you want to do is give him a kiss.

“C’mere,” You command for him to come closer, he quickly does so looking like a lost puppy. He plants a chaste kiss to your lips, then begins to leave a trail of kisses down your neck. He slips a hand under your tank top and lightly squeezes your boob. You sigh as you feel him innocently brush past your nipples, then he trails some more kisses down your stomach. Once he makes his way down to your lower body, he quickly takes off your pants with ease. Teasing your clothed pussy a little bit, watching as a wet spot starts to appear from the outside, he circles your clit and starts to sniff you.

“You smell good baby,” Seungmin compliments, finally taking off your panties and tossing them somewhere on the bed. He kisses the inside of your thighs and feels the warmth of your skin on his lips. He loves every inch of you and he wants to take his time with you. Flicking his tongue on your clit and you hiss at the feeling, you want him to fuck you with his tongue. He licks a nice long stripe across your wet folds, staring up at you while doing so, your phone still in your hand the whole time. Seungmin brought his head up more to face you, “keep looking at your phone while I eat you out babe, pretend like I’m not even here.”

You comply with his instructions, continuing to watch TikToks like normal and Seungmin goes back to devouring your pussy like the good boy he is.

JEONGIN. It was a very nerve wrecking day for you, you were meeting Jeongin’s parents for the first time today. You put on your most expensive Dior perfume and prettiest heels to meet his mom since Jeongin told you she was very into fashion and can tell when girl’s wear cheap perfume. You wanted to impress this woman as much as possible since this was definitely going to be the man you wanted to marry someday. Jeongin reassures you the whole day that she was going to love you regardless,

“Even if you wore perfume from the Dollar Tree she’d still like you!” He tries to give reassurance. You don’t believe that’s true but when you get to his mom’s house you meet her and the rest of his family. His dad was super nice and everyone was very welcoming towards you. You were actually shocked by how chill and laid back everyone was, you felt bad for assuming that they would be mean to you. Jeongin’s mom was the last person you met, when you met her she came off as a little timid but then she started to warming up to you once you started having a lot of things in common.

She was really sweet and super funny, you now know why Jeongin is such a charming guy. You see Jeongin come up to you so he can pull you away from his mom for a bit but his mom brushes him off to tell him she wasn’t finished talking. He walks away with a defeated look on his face and you continue talking with his mom. When the food is ready everyone gathers at the table to eat and you sit beside Jeongin, his mom was across from you both. You were busy for most of the day talking with his family and getting to know everyone. He wanted to be with you but he couldn’t even get the chance, feeling left out in the conversation. You feel your phone vibrate from the table and you pick it up to see who it is, seeing that it’s from Jeongin but you’re confused because he’s sitting right next to you. You turn towards him to ask him why he just texted you but he puts his finger to his mouth to tell you it’s a secret. You place your phone under the table to look at the message,

‘Come meet me in the bathroom upstairs by the laundry room ;)’

You instantly blush from reading that text and try to hide your flustered expression. You look at him and nod your head to signal that you understand. Jeongin shoots his head up and tells his parents who were across the table from him that he needs to be excused to go to the bathroom. You shoot yourself in the foot thinking about what excuse you can come up with so you both don’t look sketchy.

“Sorry please excuse me I have to take this important call for my job,” you quickly say to his parents as you head over to where you’re supposed to go.

You meet Jeongin in the bathroom where he told you to and you went straight to heavily making out. He grabs your ass and spanks it lightly, “How long you think we can be in here before they start to notice?” You ask, his lips now glued to your neck.

“I dunno, I honestly don’t really give a fuck.” He says bluntly, turning you around to face the sink and the mirror, pressing his bulge against your ass. He starts grinding his dick against you slowly, kissing your neck and running his fingers down your body. He lifts up your dress and drags his cock to rub against your clothed cunt, you lowly moan his name and he smiles. He’s about to fuck you so hard against this sink all the while his parents not having a clue where you two went.

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Words: 3,844 Pairing: Negan x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: Alexandria, after the war, Negan is imprisoned Warnings: language, mild gore (killing walkers) Summary: In lieu of Negan's failing mental health, Michonne looks for options and Y/N steps up to do her share. A/N: This is part 1 of a miniseries (maybe 3?? parts) for Negan that I've been working on! I started it as a one shot, but... you know me lol so here we are! Part 2 will be released next week on Wicked Wednesday! Happy reading! “I’m afraid we’ve got a problem,” Michonne said seriously. You exchanged a glance with Daryl.

“What kind of problem? Like, Annoying Steve is being annoying or a new horror is coming to destroy everything we have and love?” you asked wryly.

Daryl let out an appreciative dry laugh but Michonne remained serious. “Somewhere in the middle, I think,” she said. “It’s about Negan.”

Daryl swore and paced a tight circle. “Course it is. Somehow, it’s still always ‘bout him, ain’t it?” he growled.

Michonne forged ahead. “Gabriel is—fed up with him. There’s no other way to say it. He’s not trying to do anymore counseling and he needs a break. I don’t blame him. He’s taken on everything with Negan since—since Rick—”

You frowned, your brow furrowing as grief roared upwards in all of you. “What exactly is the problem?”

“His mental state is really deteriorating,” Michonne explained. “Being in there by himself all the time, just the odd hour or two outside, no one talking to him—”

“Why should we give a shit?” Daryl asked in a low, dangerous voice. “Ain’t the whole damn point of him bein’ in there so he has to suffer for what he did for the rest of his life? His mental state… Fuck. They fed me one fuckin’ dog food sandwich a day after they shoved me into a fucking closet naked. They —”

You reached over and put your hand on Daryl’s arm before he got further charged up. He stopped abruptly and drew in a long breath.

“I know. I know what he did, but no,” Michonne said. “The point isn’t for him to just suffer. If we do that, we become no better than him.”

Daryl glanced at you and let out an exasperated exhale. “Hell, ya already know what I think about it,” Daryl said firmly. “He shouldn’t even be breathin’ still. ‘M the wrong damn person to ask ‘bout this.”

Michonne sighed and leaned forward on her hands. “I’m just trying to honor Carl and—”

“We know,” you interrupted her quickly. You paused thoughtfully. “I—I can take this on. I’ve dealt with him the least so far out of the three of us. Probably makes it my turn.”

Daryl’s brow furrowed. “What’re ya gonna do? Rub his back while he cries? Hold his fuckin’ hand? I mean, how do we help somebody like him.”

Michonne shrugged. “A little more conversation to start, I think. He said being alone and the boredom is eating him alive. Maybe we come up with some more things for him to do outside the cell.”

You nodded. “I’ll brainstorm,” you said.

Daryl looked concerned, his eyes flickering over you. “Yer gonna have to be careful. He’s a manipulative asshole. And I dun trust a damn thing ‘bout him. If he can get out, he will. Don’t matter what he’d have to do.”

“I’ll be careful. I’m not an amateur, Daryl,” you said, shooting him a smile.

He nodded, ducking his head. “I know. I just gotta say it.”

“Are you sure?” Michonne asked. “It doesn’t have to be one of us. I can talk to some other people.”

“I’ve got it. I’ll start today. I’ll take him his meals and check on him, make sure he gets some time outside the cell. I’ll take care of it.”

_ _ _ _ _ _

Flat on his back, Negan heard the door open and shut but he barely moved. His eyes stayed closed and he heaved a heavy sigh, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose in some anticipation of annoyance. “Gabey-baby, I am not in the fucking mood for your guidance counselor horseshit today, so why don’t you just turn that tight little toosh around, waltz back out, and leave me the fuck alone…” he said.

“Wow. That was—gross…” you said.

Now, his eyes opened. This was something different. You were different. He swung his legs down and sat on the edge of his cot, his hazel eyes finding you and looking you over. “God Bless America, a change in the fucking monotony,” he said. “Is Gabe still mad at me?”

You approached his cell, tray in hand and nodded. “Yep. In fact, so pissed that he’s officially on vacation from you.”

“Gotta envy that,” Negan quipped. “How do I sign up for one of those?”

“A vacation from yourself?” you asked, cocking an eyebrow at him. “I don’t think that’s in the cards.”

“Damn. It was worth asking.” He seemed to be looking you over again and you rolled your eyes.

“My eyes are up here, Negan,” you joked.

His lips curled into a half-smile. “Sorry. But Gabe isn’t exactly my type and I don’t get much chance to look at anything so—”

“Just stop right there, okay?” you interrupted him. You slid his tray through the slot at the bottom of the door and straightened back up.

But Negan wasn’t interested in his breakfast. “It’s Y/N, isn’t it?” he asked.

“You know perfectly well what my name is, Negan,” you countered.

He cocked his head slightly. “You’re right about that,” he admitted. “So, what’s on the agenda?” he asked, finally moving to grab his tray. He returned to his cot and set it on the small side table.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, Gabe was always counseling me. Trying to rehabilitate me. Were you a therapist or something in the old world?” He grabbed the small apple and shined it on his shirt before taking a bite.

“No. But we’re perfectly aware that your mental health has taken a nosedive recently,” you said.

Negan let out a low laugh. “And you give a shit?” he asked skeptically. “I nearly fucking destroyed all of you and you’re worried about my mental health?”

You sighed and nodded once, stiffly. “We’re not the same as you, Negan. We’re trying to do better. And Michonne wants to honor Carl’s vision.” You watched as Negan’s face fell. The look in his eyes grew distant and his shoulders slumped slightly.

“Yeah… He was a helluva kid,” Negan said.

“You don’t know the half of it,” you replied, taking a seat in the stiff wooden chair set outside his cell. “I watched him grow up from a scared little kid and survive everything this world threw his way. You have no idea what kind of loss that was.”

Negan was looking at you thoughtfully and you were surprised when he didn’t reply, only nodded, and then returned to his apple.

“The agenda is for me to—” you hesitated for a moment. What the hell was the agenda? “For me to help you how I can. I know you’re alone a lot and you probably need some company, a change of scenery every now and then, mental stimulation…”

Negan laughed and smirked. “That’s not the only kind of stimulation I need,” he said.

You glared at him. “Jesus, Negan…” you murmured, rolling your eyes.

“It’s the truth,” he laughed.

“Yeah, well, I’m not helping you with that. I guess you’ll just have to try your hardest to think back to one of your past six wives,” you sassed.

The grin stayed on his face. “Five,” he corrected you. Then, the smile faded. “But, uh, only the first really counted.” Negan’s head dropped and you watched him curiously.

He was struggling. You’d never sensed so much truth or vulnerability in a single thing that had left his lips.

“I see,” you said.

For some reason, this made him laugh again. “You know, Gabe used to say that all the time. It’s some of that non-value, non-judgement counselor language.”

You stood up suddenly and sighed. “Finish your breakfast. I’m gonna go do a few things and then I’ll be back. We’re gonna get you out of that cell for a while today.” You fixed a stern and perceptive look on him. “If you think you can behave.”

Negan looked curious. “For you? I might.”

You cocked your head at him and looked unamused. “You will, or I’ll fucking kill you.”

Negan laughed again and turned back to his food. “Got it.”

_ _ _ _ _ _

“Why don’t I come with ya?” Daryl asked, watching as you slipped the pistol into your holster.

You looked up at him with a furrowed brow. “You think I can’t handle this?” you asked.

“Not that ya can’t handle it. It’s just—it’s Negan. We all know what he’s fuckin’ capable of,” Daryl said, walking behind you out the front door and across the steps.

“You’re conflating past Negan with Negan now. I just talked to him, and I’m telling you—it’s like he’s been robbed of all his menace and power. He’s been sitting in that cell a long time, Daryl. I don’t think he’s the same and I don’t think he’s going to—to suddenly hit me over the head with a rock or something,” you said.

“But outside the walls? Already? Why dun ya just—just start with somethin’ in here first and see how it goes? That way there are other people around and I can stop by when I can and check in.”

You read the intense concern on Daryl’s face and then nodded. “Alright. We’ll stay in the walls today. But I think part of the problem with him is that he hasn’t seen a single different thing outside in too long. He’s going a little stir crazy in there and I can’t entirely blame him.”

“Yeah, well, he fuckin’ deserves it,” Daryl growled.

“He does. But Michonne is right… we should be trying to be better. Otherwise, we should have just killed him.” You paused, trying to come up with something for him to do that would give him a little exercise and change of pace. “I’ll have him help me clear out that area for the new garden plots. There are some plants to harvest over there anyway before we clear it. It’ll teach him something too.`”

Daryl nodded. “ ‘Kay. I’ll stop by and check in,” he drawled. “Just be careful. Dun let yer guard down.”

“You know I never do.” You turned and headed back toward Negan’s cell.

Negan rose from his seat on his cot, the tray from breakfast sitting empty beside him on the small side table. He watched as you withdrew a ring of keys from your back pocket and fiddled with them a moment as you stood in front of the cell door, eyeing the lock. Was this a good idea?

Negan took a few cautious steps toward you, watching your face intensely. “Am I… getting out on good behavior, warden?” he quipped, flashing you a half-smile. It seemed to draw you back out from your reverie.

“Temporarily,” you replied, finally fitting the key into the lock and turning it. The metallic clunk was striking. “If you can handle it…” you added.

The pistol on your hip wasn’t lost on Negan. He nodded. “I think so,” he said. “What’re we doing? Hard labor?”

“Not so hard,” you said. “But I would appreciate your help with something.”

Negan froze just after stepping out of the cell and fixed a queer look on you. “Appreciate?” he repeated.

You nodded. “Mhm…”

His eyebrows lifted. “You better be careful with the way you’re talkin’ to me, Y/N. I might just fall in love with you,” he chuckled. “I haven’t felt appreciated in… oh, I don’t know—how long have I been in here?” he asked, brushing a hand back through his hair.

“Didn’t Gabriel speak nicely to you?” you asked, shutting the cell door behind him, giving him a questioning glance.

“Well, sure. Or maybe not nicely. He was at least neutral,” Negan said, slipping his hands into his pockets. “I think I ruined that though.”

You shook your head and sighed. “Yeah, he’s not pleased with you, Negan,” you agreed. “Look, this is just a test run. We’re staying in Alexandria today, but eventually… I’d like to get you outside of the walls on occasion.” Negan looked shocked. “Obviously, that’s going to take trust,” you emphasized. “But I think it would do you good.” You hesitated, wondering if you should admit this to him, but you decided it would be good for him to hear it. “You’re not the same as you were when you were locked in here. And—I intend on finding out if you can really be rehabilitated. Not that I’m ever going to forget what you’ve done… but there’s got to be more than this,” you said, gesturing to the cell behind him, “in your future. Otherwise, what’s the point?”

“You’ve just explained exactly what has me so depressed,” Negan admitted. “I’ve spent most of the last however many fucking years wishing Rick had just killed me.”

Those words hung in the air like a toxic cloud. You gulped and couldn’t help feeling an ache of compassion at his words. Compassion for Negan. What a peculiar thought… You tilted your head toward the door. “Come on. Follow me and stay close. And let me be perfectly clear; I will shoot you if you try to pull any bullshit,” you emphasized.

He nodded, his expression surprisingly serious. “Got it.”

You led him out into the summer sunshine and walked through Alexandria until you reached the overgrown section near the wall that you planned to tackle for the day. The two of you had gotten plenty of stares as you moved down the street, but you noticed that Negan had mostly kept his head down. His shoulders were somewhat slumped and he made no witty comments on the walk, though you caught him closing his eyes to enjoy the breeze or staring up at the blue expanse of sky overhead multiple times.

He stopped beside you, his hands in his pockets, as you stared at the tall grass and brambles ahead and sighed.

“What’re we doin’, boss?” he asked.

“We’re going to start clearing this area out so eventually we can put in some new garden plots. But there’s a little more to it. We used to have some medicinal plants in here before it got overgrown. I’m hoping to find them and save them for transplanting, so we can’t just start ripping everything out.”

“How the hell am I supposed to know what’s medicinal and what’s not?” he asked.

“I’m gonna teach you,” you said confidently.

Negan laughed a little at the assertion. “Look, doll… I was a gym teacher in the old world. ‘Not Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman,’” he said.

Your eyebrows lifted. “Wow. That was a deep bench reference,” you said.

He smirked at you. “I was pretty proud of it myself,” he said.

You couldn’t help a dry laugh and small shake of your head. “It’s not that hard. We’ll work together to start and I’ll show you how to identify them. The grasses can all be pulled, but we’ll identify the broadleaf plants and get them ready for transplanting if they’re something we can use.”

Negan looked skeptical but shrugged. “Well, you’re the boss. Not like I’ve got a full schedule,” he said.

“Exactly,” you agreed. There was a reason you weren’t just having him pull all the grass and doing the rest yourself. Negan was smart and not having any mental stimulation was probably contributing a lot to his mental health issues. If you gave him a task that was a little physical and a little mental, you were hoping it’d give him a sense of purpose and productivity.

You got started right away, mainly just pulling the grasses and clearing a large area that remained dotted with forbs. It was summer and the respiration of the plants you were sitting in made the air humid. It wasn’t long before you were wiping at sweat along your hairline and stopping to push wet strands back out of your face. For a while, you worked in silence beside Negan, only speaking to instruct him, but he finally tried to start some conversation on his own.

“So, what the hell did you do in the old world anyway? Were you some kind of plant guru?” he asked, pausing to pull off his gloves for a moment and get a drink from the canteen you’d provided for him.

You paused, standing up to look down at him where he knelt in the grass. He was sweaty too, like you were, and his dark blue shirt was clinging to his back in the heat. “I don’t think I owe you my backstory, Negan,” you said. Your tone wasn’t unkind, but it was a little stern.

“Aw, come on. This is part of that trust-building thing you mentioned earlier,” he said, taking another drink. “I’m just trying to figure you out a little bit,” he said.

You crossed your arms and surveyed him. “So, you can better manipulate me when it’s beneficial to you?” you asked.

“What? No,” he said with surprise, and you almost believed him. “I mean—I currently have no concrete plans to manipulate you…” he admitted, a small bit of jest in his voice. “I’m bored all the time in that fuckin’ cell. I could sure use the conversation. Isn’t that what this is about? My ‘mental health’,” he quoted, shooting an expectant look at you.

You sighed. “What do you wanna know?”

Negan licked his lips and then smiled, thinking about what he wanted to ask, but before he could say a word, bootsteps behind the two of you caused you both to look over to see Daryl standing there.

You went to greet him, pulling off your gloves.

“How’s it goin’?” he asked in an undertone, glancing past you to shoot a glare at Negan.

You shrugged. “Fine. It’s been completely fine so far.”

Daryl nodded, but still looked suspicious. “He ain’t tried anythin’?”

You shook your head, dusting the soil from your gloves. “Nope. We’re just working.”

Daryl nodded, still clearly apprehensive. “Well, s’almost noon. Get him back to his cell by 1 and I’ll bring his meal down,” he drawled.

“I can take care of that,” you offered.

“S’fine. I wanna have a word with him anyway.” He put his hand on your shoulder and gave it a friendly squeeze, giving you a small smile. “Yer doin’ enough for him. Be careful.”

“Okay,” you agreed, nodding. “See you later.”

When you turned around, you noticed Negan had been watching the interaction carefully. There was a thoughtful look on his face, but when you simply returned and got back to work, he joined you again in silence. You continued on for another hour or so, managing to clear quite a wide area by the time you needed to get Negan back to his cell for a late lunch. You walked beside him, both of you now dirty and plenty sweaty, and your hand strayed to the handle of your pistol again absently.

Negan noticed and broke the silence that had stretched for what felt like a long time. “You’re a fuckin’ great shot with that thing,” he said, nodding toward the gun.

“What?” you asked, turning to look at him, puzzled.

“I said, ‘you’re a great shot’,” he repeated. You still looked confused. “I noticed… during the war,” he said. “I mean—I noticed you but also your aim.” You stared at him, your brow furrowed. “You almost blew Simon’s fuckin’ head off,” he said with a laugh. “If he hadn���t flinched at the last second…” Negan let out a low whistle.

“How’d you know that was me?” you asked.

He shrugged. “Like I said, I noticed you.”

You looked… unsettled? Uneasy? Negan couldn’t quite define it, but there was some sort of tension in the air as you walked him back the rest of the way and finally locked him inside his cell again.

He gripped onto the bars and watched you turn away before he managed to get your name out. You turned toward him again, the high arch of your brow inquiring. “Thanks,” he said. “For today. It was the best fuckin’ day I’ve had in a while,” he admitted.

You gave him a baffled look. “I made you work outside in the sun all morning,” you laughed.

“Yeah… but I wasn’t alone. And I’ve had waaaaay worse company. Just—even if you decide you can’t do more than today, I want you to know that it mattered to me. Thanks.”

That look was on your face again, some mix of surprise and bewilderment. Finally, you sighed. “Daryl’s gonna bring you lunch. I’ll see you later, okay, Negan?”

He nodded, still gripping onto the cold, iron bars of his cell, and watched you walk out.

A short time later, Negan had washed his hands and splashed cool water from his basin over his face, dabbing at it with his small scratchy towel, when he heard the door open again. He looked up to see Daryl coming in with a tray of food and a scowl. He set it down by the slot at the bottom of the cell door and pushed it roughly through with the toe of his boot, almost spilling the water cup. Daryl’s expression didn’t change. It was stony and guarded.

Negan eyed him and then wandered over to grab the tray. He did feel hungry for once, something that had been rare for quite some time. When he straightened up, Daryl’s blue eyes were narrow and stinging.

Negan grabbed the apple off his tray and took a big bite. It was sweet and crunchy, satisfying and refreshing after being in the sun all morning. “Something on your mind, Daryl?” Negan asked, a faint smile on his lips.

Daryl stepped closer, right up to the bars. “Yeah. One thing. If ya fuck up, if ya try to hurt Y/N, if ya pull anythin’ I dun like, I don’t give a shit what Michonne or anybody else is tryin’ to do—I don’t give a shit about your rehab, I’ll put ya in the fuckin’ ground. Got it?”

That smile was still on Negan’s face, annoying the shit out of Daryl.

“I mean it, Negan. Ya hear me?”

“Loud and clear,” he said, taking another bite.

“Good,” he growled, and the archer left.

[rory-cakes]

A Buck and A Canary

What was she doing here?

Why was she smiling at him like nothing happened?

He left their child alone!

He let her die!

He lied to her!

It has been one week since the battle at the Habin Hotel. They were starting to finish the reconstruction of the hotel when something strange happened. An angel appeared. 

“Hello! My name is Y/n Altruist, and the higher-ups of heaven have sent me to oversee the progress of the hotel!” 

“THEY CHANGED THEIR MINDS!?” Charlie was practically vibrating with joy. 

“Why?” Vaggie asked skeptically. 

“Well, unlike before, we have proof that your hotel works! A certain serpent has shown up in heaven!”

“Sir Penitouse is alive!” everyone was filled with overwhelming joy. 

“Also”

Y/n bowed in respect. 

“I deeply apologize for the exterminations. They were never supposed to happen. Sera and Adam were working alone in that sense.” 

Charlie grabbed her hand and helped her back up. 

“So really, no one knew? How is that possible?”

“The seven virtues are the only defense against evil on Earth so they have their hands full with that, I’m afraid. I was at the meeting and I brought up the issue as soon as I could!”

“Why do you care so much about what happens to us? No offense, we’re really grateful you did what you did! But why?”

“Well, I'm afraid my answer is a little selfish. My husband is down here. He wasn’t a good man but he was a good husband and he would have been a good father hadn’t he died.”

How did an angel like her end up with someone down here?

Wait-

An angel like her?

“Im sorry, but what is your husband’s na-”

“Birdy?”

“Alastor?”

Alastor sat uncomfortably on the plush couch in his room. Y/n sat equally as uncomfortable in a chair of a similar design. You could cut the tension in the air with a knife. 

Alastor avoided making eye contact with his wife. I mean she had to know who he truly was at this point. How could she not?

“Alastor.”

She breaks the silence. 

“I’ve missed you dearly, my darling.”

Why was she smiling?

“I know what you did, and while I can’t say I’m pleased, that doesn’t change the fact that you are my husband.”

What?

“You cherished and loved me for so many years. You took care of me and Eudora. You loved me with everything you had.”

This isn’t right.

“So, if you haven’t stopped loving me in the time we’ve been apart,”

No

“I’d like to be your wife still.”

Alastor finally looked at his ethereal wife. She was so good. She shouldn’t be corrupted by his darkness. 

“I left her alone.”

“So did I.”

Y/n smiled at the man in front of her. This was her Alastor. This was the man she fell in love with. Sure, there were blazing red flags and she should probably be running for the hills. However, she can’t deny the urge to be with him. 

“I’ve been watching over her.”

“You have? How is she?”

“She’s lived a long life. She’s been married to her wife for about 40 years now. She adopted three kids and has a bunch of grandkids. She had her own radio show, Al!”

“She did?”

“She did.”

Y/n moves to sit beside him and grabs his hand with both of hers. Alastor finally pulls her closer,

“You deserve so much more than I am. I cursed you in life I can’t let you get hurt again.”

“You are all that I want, and if I get cursed because of it, that will have been my decision.”

She places her hand on his face, and he leans into it. 

“My darling Alastor, there is nothing you can do for me to stop loving you.”

“Alright, Birdy, I’ll have you for as long as you wish to stay.”

And so the Buck was reunited with his Canary.  

A/N: Hi! I hope you liked the last part of Alastor's Birdy! If you have scenarios you would like me to write with this au, just send me an ask and ill get to it as soon as I can!

Taglist: @crazed-flower, @nanamunath, @preferably-fictional, @eccedentesiast-sapphic, @leximus98, @cupidsgift, @mag-chan, @stygianoir, @thereeallink, @yelloeukulele, @mariaclarade-la-cruz1, blurpleuni-squid, @galaxywing-has-adhd, @just-here-reading, @deez-nuts0, @strawberry-gothic, @purplerose291,@1-800-mocha, @trashbin-nie, @queenmizuki, @nkirukaj @bennythebitch @otherthoughtsofbu, @fantasycantasy, @hunnybee11626, @notally-tormal, @valerie-36, @lovingyeet, @holographicage, @har-har-harvey, @i-love-jafar, @cupidsgift, @meow-meowo, @theblueslytherin, @deadt3tinside, @lyralibra, @the-unhinged-raccoon, @avitute, @alastorswifeee, @stygianoir, @sideshow-b0b, @deadlymouse123, @mysingularitybts, @emotionalfangirl2002, @t0xic1vi, @goodlittlepup, @starsatmyhome, @wendds, @reader3, @redfoxgotlost, @hurthermore, @frostychurro @isa-dragon

[literaila]

hi! you’re writings amazing, ily (i reblog everything i read from u, you’re fics are so- just so perfect)

can i request more of peter parker x mean! reader i thoroughly enjoyed that one, maybe just peter reassuring her that he’s not going to her hurt her and he’s not going anywhere (their in an established relationship but she’s afraid of getting hurt because she likes him so much- abandonment issues and all that 🫣)

involved

tasm!peter x reader

summary:

“i don’t know how serious this is for you.”

“you don’t?”

warnings: self doubt, undiscussed relationship stuff, peter obv.

*

you hear your name before you catch it on the edge of a breath. because you only know one person who would call out to you, and only one person who’s voice you would listen for.

and then peter parker’s hand is wrapping around your arm, and he’s smiling down at you like the world is slow enough for this moment to pass right by.

but it doesn’t. and you frown back. “hey,” you say, but what you really meant was—can’t you tell i’m avoiding you?

“where are you?” he asks, none the wise to your grump brows or hesitance to touch him back,

“walking by the mess hall?”

peter tilts his head at you, bumping into you with his elbow. “no, i mean, where are you all of the time? i haven’t seen you in, like, a week. i’m withdrawaling.”

“i’ve been studying.”

“for what?”

“my class?”

he snorts at you, hand trailing down your wrist to intertwine with yours. which you let happen, reluctantly. “not feeling very explanatory today, huh?”

“i don’t like answering dumb questions.”

“not even mine?” he pouts, though breaking almost immediately, and going back to his signature smirk.

you look away. stupid peter and his stupid smiles.

“want to hang out tonight?” he asks, flowing with this irritated version of you immediately. because he’s so understanding. “we could watch a movie, or something. grab take-out?”

“i have a test tomorrow,” you gently try to pull away from him, which peter doesn’t notice in the slightest. “so i probably shouldn’t.”

shouldn’t, you think, not can’t, or won’t. you probably shouldn’t be spending anymore time with peter parker and his short attention span. his long reputation.

“it’s friday.”

“correct, peter. good job.”

he snorts, again. “no, i mean, it’s saturday tomorrow. how do you have a test?”

“it’s a mental test. how long can i sleep in after going to bed at seven?” you say this without skipping a beat, trying to keep the wince off of your face.

because, despite all else, you’ve really been trying not to hurt his feelings. you don’t want to tell him that you don’t think this is working out, or that you don’t want to be alone with him for any amount of time in the foreseeable future.

no, ghosting is much preferred.

“so you don’t want to hang out,” peter drawls, casually. “that’s okay. if you’re tired, i get it.”

he’s being sweet. still smiling if just a bit dimmer than before. he takes rejection like it’s a suggestion.

something about it irritates you. if he were less cool, or more direct, or any other thing than the perfect person he is—

“i’ve got to go,” you snap out, before your mouth can even open.

you shake your hand from his and try not to linger on the remaining sparks flying through it.

you turn away from peter, walking the opposite direction of home, and not caring even a bit. each step further away from him is some relief—disappointment—curling up inside of you. crawling to your chest and staying there.

but peter follows, because of course he does.

“woah,” he tries to reach out for you, but yoh jump away from him, like he’s some type of poison. “what’s wrong?”

“nothing, peter.”

he takes a step closer, but doesn’t try to touch you.

you hadn’t even realized that you’d stopped.

“you’re upset,” he says slowly. “did i do something?”

“no.”

“did something happen?”

“no.”

“are you feeling alright?”

“no!”

you sigh and look away from him. his eyes are unbearable to look at. his easy-going nature and his inquisitiveness are irritating. he’s too nice for his own good. too nice for you, especially.

“okay, sweetheart, why don’t you tell me what’s going on?” he suggests this like suggesting something for dinner. “i might not be able to help, but i can listen. i like the sound of your voice.”

“ugh,” you get out, before you can think better of it.

“what?”

“don’t flirt with me. it’s disgusting.”

peter laughs. “havent we gotten past that? i’ve seen your—“

“don’t finish that sentence.”

“i was going to say bedroom.”

“yeah, right.”

“serious, baby. let’s talk. i’ve missed you.”

“talk,” you raise your brows. “right here?”

“well we can go to your place, or mine, but i don’t really feel like walking in awkward silence, so—“

but you’re not listening to peter. you’re watching his eyes dart around, and wondering how much you should be memorizing right now.

“for how long?” you blurt out, interrupting him and whatever he was saying.

“hmm?”

“you said you missed me. for how long?”

peter glances at you, quizzically. “since i last saw you, obviously.”

“no, i mean…” you kick at a rock with your shoe, unsure what to say, or how to say it. or how to do any of this without finding out the truth. “i mean, how much longer?”

“how much what, bub?”

“how much longer will you miss me?”

peter pauses. he’s staring down at you, biting on his lip. his eyes are questioning, and frozen, like he hasn’t heard a word you said. but he must have, because he says: “what?”

almost shocked like. almost like any of this is a surprise.

you shake your head, looking away from him.

“no,” peter tilts your head back to him, hand warm around your face. “what do you mean?”

“i just…” you feel lost for words. like you’re preparing yourself for the loss of something else. “i don’t know what you want, peter. i don’t… i don’t want you to say you like me for a few weeks, and then move on to someone else. i—“ you shake your head again, angry because it doesn’t make sense, and because peter is literally the only person you would say any of that too.

the only person you would want to.

“what? you think— you think i’m leading you on, or something?”

he sounds offended, so your eyes go to his, trying to read his face but there’s nothing there.

you sigh. “i don’t know how serious this is for you.”

“you don’t?”

“it’s not… i mean, it’s not like we’ve talked about it and i didn’t want to seem, um, too involved.”

“involved?”

“dedicated.”

“you didn’t want to seem too dedicated to me?”

your brows furrow at him. “you’re making me sound really lame.”

at that, peter finally cracks a small smile. “you said it, not me.”

“yeah, i know.” and then you roll your eyes at yourself.

“is this why you haven’t called me back in a week?”

“was it that obvious?” you say, voice dripped with sarcasm.

peters hand has dropped between the two of you. and his fingers graze against yours. in a moment of weakness.

“how long have you been worried about this?”

you think for a moment, making sure to keep your eyes off of him. “since the second time you asked me to dinner.”

his brows furrow. “that was last semester. like, a week in.”

“yeah.”

you peek up at him. his eyes are wide like he’s surprised. but there’s a hint of a smile on his face, a ghost of the humor he usually has.

so your head snaps up, and you frown. “are you laughing at me?”

peters lip twitches. “no, i mean—“ you step back from him. “i’m not laughing at you,” he swears, and then does just that.

you scowl, continuing to pull back.

“i’m not, really,” he shakes his head. “it’s just…”

“just what?”

peter looks up, praying to something that you don’t understand. you almost look with him. “i’ve spent the last six months just trying to get you to go out with me.” he says, finally.

you’re still frowning.

“honestly, i’m just a little shocked. i thought—“ he breaks off, wincing a bit. “well i assumed it would be obvious. that i was serious about this. us.”

“you—you’re like that with everyone.”

“i’m not the way i am with you around anyone else.”

you swallow. “really?”

“you make me actually insane,” he steps closer. “and that’s okay. i like it. but why would i spend all that time getting to know you, suffering from your abuse, or helping you out just to leave as soon as you started to reciprocate?”

“you like a challenge?”

“not that much.” his voice is loud, but his face is blown away. like you’ve shocked him enough to ruin any concern he had just minutes before.

“oh,” you whisper, feeling incredibly small.

he’s saying all of the right things, like he usually does, but you don’t have anything to say back. he still hasn’t managed to dislodge that fear from the pit in your chest.

peter must know this, the way he just knows things about you, because he grabs your hand, and leans down toward you. “i like you,” he says, so simply. a shrug to emphasize this point. like he’s already worked this thought out in his brain.

“i know you like me—“ you start, unprepared to lay yourself on the line with him, to care for him like he’s the only person in the world. even if you’ve already started

but peter stops you.

“i’m in love with you.” his voice breaks on the word.

just like your heart.

you stare at him, shocked, and bewildered, and lost in the whole idea of keeping him. coveting him like a prized possession.

peter is never serious. but he says this like it’s the only real thing in the world. like he believes it, wholeheartedly.

“okay?” peter whispers, like he’s repeating it. making sure you understand. you’re staring at him. “i love you.”

“you do?”

“more than i should,” he promises, smiling at the end.

“really?”

he laughs again and bends down to kiss you, his lips sweet and possessive. a signature at the bottom of the contract. when he pulls back, just slightly, he’s rolling his eyes. “i stalked outside your class so i could pretend to run into you.”

you frown. “that’s creepy. how’d you know what class i had?”

“you think i don’t know your schedule by now?”

“i—“ he interrupts you by kissing you again, hands wrapped around your face. “peter,” you whisper, when he breaks free.

“don’t avoid me, okay? i couldn’t think all week. i almost set myself on fire in the lab, because i thought every notification i got might’ve been you.”

you blink, looking away. “sorry.”

peter smiles, stepping back and taking the strap of your bag before you can protest. “you can make it up to me by buying me dinner.”

you scowl, looking back at his adoring face. “please.”

peter grabs your hand and begins to walk, and this time you don’t even mind.

“i also accept cash.”

“i kissed you. that’s worth, like, seven dinners. you’re lucky.”

he looks down at you, smirking once again. “damn right.”

*

[cleolinda]

I’ve read a few of the umpteen thousand upset comments about the paid Watcher service, and I’ve read comments angry about the upset comments. There’s one thing I want to point out, and it’s that this isn’t, or shouldn’t be, “You’re saying people don’t deserve to earn money for their work.”

The Watcher guys do deserve to earn money. I already give them money. I give them $5 a month on Patreon, not because I think they do or don’t give me $5 worth of media, but because I want to support them. I canceled Netflix for pissing me off with its price hike/ad tier, but I give Watcher Entertainment money.

They’re saying now that the Patreon will be solely about the podcasts, and they understand if people leave. I’m perfectly happy to switch the support I can afford to the streaming service. With the early adopter 30% discount, I’d actually save money. In fact, I tried to subscribe, but the site didn’t work.

Watcher wanting to profit from their shows isn’t the problem. It’s that they’re now discovering that their fanbase is young and broke in a terrible economy, judging by tens of thousands of comments on multiple platforms. I can throw them $5/month, so I do. But the Patreon only has (checks notes) 5874 paying followers, and there’s a reason for that. $60/year upfront would not be “accessible.” Patreon is literally patronage from the people who can afford it.

If the guys had said up front, “ONLY new shows and episodes will be exclusive to the service,” I think we’d be having a different conversation right now. But at first they did say, “We’re pulling all our content from YouTube,” to the point where Variety had to issue an update. Like, that’s in print and I’m pretty sure it was on video. Now they’ve backtracked to ONLY new etc.—but most people haven’t heard, and they feel crushed. And the trust is probably gone regardless.

So now four years of back catalogue will stay public. And now, you’re paying $6.99 a month for one episode, maybe two, of something a week, and now, not an exclusive back catalogue. I would pay for Watcher shows before I’d pay for anyone else, but I just don’t think the company is big enough yet for a SVOD at that price. They’re not Dropout size. They needed to build more programming and get a higher follower count first, or at the very least, charge less.

The international price/exchange rate situation is a nightmare and I don’t know what it is they’re not doing to make it… not… be like that.

I don’t know what they should have done instead of a full streaming service, but surely there were alternatives? I’ve seen comments from people suggesting they GET a Patreon. Lean on that more! Do the shows exclusive for a month and then let them roll onto YouTube! I don’t know! Anything but One More Fucking Streaming Service, which enraged me, and I was willing to move my support to it!

And I shouldn’t say this, but I will. In the “Goodbye YouTube” video the guys posted, they say that setting up the streaming service has allowed Steven to do a remake of Worth It where he and his cohosts travel the world and eat expensive food. This is the first new show they announce. Not “We have always been committed to diversity and we’re now able to bring on new creator(s) to expand our programming.” No, a redo of an old show that by definition has got to be expensive. Commenters are saying they can’t pay for the streaming service because they can’t make ends meet in this economy. The optics are terrible. I genuinely question what the thought process even was here.

I love the guys and I still watch their shows. I want to see Watcher succeed. I started watching Buzzfeed Unsolved in 2018 while recovering from surgery—as with a lot of people, their shows got me through a tough time. I’m as attached as anyone. If I can continue to afford monthly support—this is not a certainty—I’ll give it to them. I’m not a ~hater who doesn’t want Watcher to make money. But I am absolutely BAFFLED by every single decision here. I want them to figure out how to turn this around and go in a better direction, because right now, this ain’t it.

[messenger-of-babel]

Conversations

Summary: You wished that Kyle could distinguish between argument and conversation.

Word Count: 1.3K

Notes: Aaaahh I’m new to Kyle Rayner as I’ve just started reading his runs but I really liked him and wanted to give him a spin. He’s probably my second fav lantern (after Hal) and I’ve got some kinks to work out with nailing his personality, but I’ll get it with a bit of practice. I was trying to keep him in line with his dreamer/romantic side ya know? Anyways, first week down already folks!

(Additional side note: posting this early tonight cause of a killer migraine so please be patient with tomorrow's upload. )

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Even if you were yelling at him, Kyle thought you were beautiful.

The sun caught your hair in the morning light, and his eyes traced the sleep still in the corner of your eyes. There were lines on your face from the pillow, and your lip was sucked between your teeth.

"Kyle? Are you listening?" you sigh softly, and he responds with a faint smile.

"You're beautiful."

You pinch the bridge of your nose, exhaling. "Great. So, you're not even listening." you sigh. His smile wavers slightly. He knew you wanted to talk about something heavier than he would like for the first thing in the morning, but he couldn't help but try to steer it away from that. After all, you had said that you didn't intend to stay the night last evening, that you came over just to talk, but you ended waking up beside him the next morning. Surely, he could talk you out of this if he swung it correctly. His lips quirk up again, making his eyes light up with a playful warmth.

"I am listening," he defends. "I just can't help if you look beautiful this early in the morning."

"I'm not in the mood for flattery, Rayner." you sigh, hands on your hips. "I'm trying to have a serious conversation right now. You're not taking anything into account, which is the exact reason we keep having this argument." You throw your hands up in the air, clearly frustrated.

He puts his hands in front of him, making a soothing motion. "Woah, woah, we haven't been having arguments, we've been having conversations," he corrects sternly. "Those are two very different things, babe. We're okay."

"You always say that," you groan. "What kind of discussion ends with the tears, Kyle? This isn't a conversation if I'm the only one talking. You keep dodging the questions, the situation, and it just gets worse!" you say frustrated, hands coming to cover your face. "I shouldn’t have even stayed the night. I knew I shouldn't have stayed the night." you groan, a well of regret and shame writing around in your stomach as your pinch at the bridge of your nose again.

"Hold on," he interjects. "It's not a mistake. We're a couple, that’s what couples do."

You sigh through the nose at that. "Yeah? If we're a couple, why have I been sleeping at my place for the last week? Why haven't we gone on any dates? Why haven't we been calling? This is more than a rough patch, which you already refuse to acknowledge. We're essentially broken up. It was a long time coming, and if you actually stopped to listen for a moment, you'd realise that too. We need to break up." you say a matter of factly, slightly out of breath from your rant.

You didn’t want to say that. Hell, if you had asked yourself from a year ago if you wanted to break up with Kyle Rayner, the answer would have been an immediate 'Hell no'. You just couldn't do it anymore, the constant speed that your relationship had been progressing. Kyle took you on dates like he wanted to be married to you yesterday, despite only recently hitting your one-year anniversary. Don't get it wrong, you weren't complaining about him being in love with you, especially after the disappointing string of partners before him. He made it seem like you held up the sun and kept the world from collapsing. Like you were some goddess that could solve anything with a simple touch.

But that was exactly the problem.

He treated you like a martyr, like someone who could do no wrong. You were sick of being the princess stuck in the tower. Want to go to Gotham for a show? No, too dangerous, didn't you hear about the crime rate recently? How about going to Metropolis to visit your old college friend? You've got to be joking with him. Do you know how many superpowered maniacs tear through those streets on a daily basis? Coast City? It was essentially the walking dead every now and then and he wasn't going to risk you being there when it happened (plus Hal Jordan). No, you were to stay right here, in Los Angeles.

That kind of care was endearing at first, until you began to feel disconnected. from everything. You weren't some damsel that needed to be protected, god damnit, you were a fully functioning adult, not a child. But no. Kyle Rayner had to be there, had to be your knight in shining armour, had to keep the walls padded. It started to feel like you were dating a parent instead of a partner in the way that you would act and lash out to try and get him to relax his reins a little. He'd always just stand there, taking blow after blow without actually listening to your words. Just throwing back compliments, dodging the conversation skillfully and downplaying the situation. It was like dating a broken record, the same dismissive positivity on loop 24/7.

You were going to snap eventually.

It was wearing you down, the constant affirmations that everything was fine when it was not. Then it had begun the months of him putting you on that pedestal. Like all things it was fine at the start, but soon you became your own worst enemy. Soon you were chasing the perfect version of yourself that only Kyle could see, burning yourself out to be that person until you turned to see the damage you'd done to yourself. When you'd ask him to stop, that you were human like everyone else and had negative emotions, there was a small upset flicker across his face. He just couldn't understand why you'd be sad or angry or frustrated after a long day of work. Don't you love your coworkers? Why are you mad at your cubicle partner? You were the most understanding person on the planet, so surely you understood where they were coming from.

You had decided that you were done with the love bombing. You could see in the way his eyes looked at you, the dreamy expression on his face even in the midst of your fights that he was in love with the idea of you, not actually you.

And you would be lying if you said that it didn't hurt.

While you're standing on the other side of the bedroom, lip worried between your teeth his thoughts are running wild. However, no matter how fast they race, there isn't a pulse of panic that can course through his body. You both had always managed to fix any bumps in your relationship, and Kyle knew you were the best thing that happened to him. He wasn't going to let go anytime soon, and he was convinced that you wouldn't either. When he sees the start of the tears on your waterline though, his heart clenches. His lips tilt into a frown and he comes around to your side to lift your face, but you gently tip your chin out of his grip.

"Babe, why are you crying?" he asks, heart sinking at just the idea of you being sad. Sure, you sometimes cried during your conversations, but he knew that was just your way of expelling energy, of getting the bad emotions out of your system. They were disrupting your perfect relationship, so you were releasing them, he knew that. You just shake your head, choking down a hiccup.

"That's it, Kyle." you whisper. "This is it. You just don't get it." You frustratedly sigh, turning away from him to get your keys and purse thrown on his dresser from last night. "I'm gone. This has to be an official break up, we can't keep doing this." you choke out, voice thick as you throw your coat on, not caring that you look ready for the walk of shame out of his apartment. He tilts his head curiously as you pass him, your throat bobbing as you swallow.

"Goodbye, Kyle Rayner." you say, before you all but sprint for the door.

He sighs, running his hand through his hair. As he hears the front door slam, he exhales, disappointed. He was hoping he could take you out to that brunch place you liked near the park, and then go feed the ducks. It always seemed to make you smile, radiant and full of life. He mulled your words over in his head, a flash of panic shooting through his heart for a second. Were you actually going to leave? No, you wouldn't do that. Not to the perfect arrangement you two had. You were made for each other.

Break up?

Surely you just meant that you were taking a break.

[carmyberzattosjournal]

Entry 24: Property of: Darling

Screenshot credit: @neverscreens

Bearblr Promptober Day 24: Haunted House

Summary: Carmy's girlfriend's schedule has switched temporarily, and he hates the loneliness. So she joins him at the restaurant for one morning and leaves him a parting gift. Fluff.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of trauma, mentions of The Devil, mentions of Mikey, comfort, fem reader who is a trauma surgeon, she/her pronouns Carmy takes care of Nat, feat. Nat. (1503 words)

Notes: All journal entries will be titled as such and tagged with #cb journal.

Thank you for reading. Thank you to @carmenberzattosgf for putting together this prompt list. Sideblog for commentary and yapping: @m-z-shoroi

Also, if random letters or words are black/white instead of the colors they should be, that's Tumblr being dumb, I've been fighting it for days.

12 Oct 2024

Radiator update: still fucked. Life update: Darling came to The Bear.

“Oh, this place is a little creepy,” she whispered as we entered. She swept her gaze around the front of house, the slatted ceiling, the wilting florals in the small, handmade vases on the four-tops from the night before.

“Creepy?”

“Yeah. It feels. Uh…” She gathered her coat together in the front and crossed her arms over it. “I don’t know, a little haunted?”

“Probably Mikey. He would haunt my ass to spite me.”

An uncomfortable grin slowly spread on her features. She covered her mouth with her hands. “I really shouldn’t be laughing…”

Doctors aren’t the only people who use dark humor to cope with pain.

“Come on, kitchen’s back here.” I beckoned her to follow me.

Her schedule changed for a few weeks while one of the other surgeons was on paternity leave, so she needed to be at the hospital for second shift, which meant that she’d be at home alone while I needed to be at work, I’d go home to an empty apartment all evening, and then she’d get back home when I was on my way to passing out. The first day, it didn’t bother me too much (her schedule change started on a Monday); by the time Thursday rolled around, the fucking loneliness hit me. It was so fucking quiet in the apartment. How I existed in that silence for so fucking long, with nothing more than echoes from my past, ghosts of The Devil, of Mikey, of the gardens at NOMA to keep me company, to play endless loops in my head, I have no fucking idea.

But it’s probably part of why I’m fucking psycho.

I needed, more than anything, to listen to Darling tell me about her day, about Monique, about the shitty families that annoyed her. I needed to hear her giggle and snort at my stupid jokes, and I needed her legs across my lap while I worked out those knots in her calves. Fuck me, I needed her in my lap mumbling sweet little things into my mouth while her hands danced over my skin, wove into and tugged on my hair. Morning sex was fulfilling as ever—even if she was practically shoving me out of bed to keep me on time after because somewhere in these several months, my brain must’ve latched onto sex equaling sleep—but sex is not what I’ve been starved of. Lack of sex isn’t the roiling, screaming, hollow in my being that involuted and metastasized into the monster, the animal that chewed away and retched out the good parts of me as undigested lumps; it was lack of intimacy. I can protect myself with my armor, but I can’t hug anyone while wearing it. And under that armor, I atrophied into this mess.

God’s a sadist. We’ve established this.

“Pretty boy?”

My head snapped up from the marble counter towards Darling. Warm smile on her face. She was pointing to my left, out of my view. I followed where she was gesturing and found Nat there, looking like she hadn’t slept in a fucking week, holding a stack of manilla files. Her hair was a frizzy fucking mess secured to her head in some way, she had no makeup on, her eyebrows were half-missing, she had these purple-green shadows under her eyes, her lips were chapped. Wrinkled t-shirt, fleece jacket.

My stomach sank through the floor. She hadn’t looked like that in a thousand years. I didn’t even know what was wrong yet, but I needed to fix it. I needed to fucking fix her. Her hair was such a mess, did she even brush it? Who the fuck did this to my sister? Why does she look like that?

“What-what’s wrong?” is all I managed.

She held up a hand. Spoke with her eyes closed. “Emily colicked all night, and I couldn’t stop thinking about Mikey—I’m fine, I promise, I just miss him. I’m just gonna secure the schedule with Richie, and then I’m gonna go back home—"

“Home, yeah, please. For fuck’s sake, get some rest,” I said. I skittered around the counter and took the files from her. “What are these?”

“Documenting and accounting for Cicero, just put them in the filing cabinet, top drawer, left side.” She rubbed her forehead. “I need. Coffee.”

“Did you eat?”

“It’s not your job to worry about me, Carm—”

“Nat, fuck you. Did you eat?”

The corner of her mouth twitched. “No. I did not.”

I went to put the files away. Got back in the kitchen and set about making Nat her favorite omelet. She went to the office, saying something about “turning into a lump” until Richie got there. I got into the flow of dicing peppers and forgot Darling was even there until I felt her hands around my waist and her gentle warmth press into my back. Thank fuck I was used to her pulling adorable shit like this at home—I knew to put the knife down because my eyes would drift closed of their own accord, and, still without my input (this woman has my body on a switchboard, I swear to Christ), my head would loll back to rest on her shoulder. She swayed us lightly on the spot. Hummed. Pressed her lips to my neck.

“I think it’s so sweet how you two take care of each other,” she whispered.

Fuck me, that was dangerously close to fucking me up. My core tightened with a familiar heat, and this pleasurable prickly sensation buzzed along my inner thighs and low in my back, weirdly enough. At work. I’m at work right now, pretty girl, you can’t go whispering things in my ear. I need to survive another 10 or so hours without you, and if you’ve fucked me up this bad, I’m just going to cause problems for everyone else. You have to be at the hospital today, too, so it's not like I can go home and rail you senseless to get it out of my fucking system.

“Call me later, hm?”

I nodded. “Mmhm.”

Was it planned? Did she plan to make a wreck of me? Certainly seemed like a possibility based on the smirk she had on her angelic features as she waved goodbye and exited the kitchen. I nearly overcooked the eggs thinking about the way her hips swayed as she walked away. That had to be on purpose, too, right? Was I imagining things? Was Darling teasing me?

My head continued to spin 20 minutes after she’d left. Felt like I was on a boat or had just started going down in a particularly fast elevator. Sug was slumped over at the desk, head on her arm, looking more like a half-molten wax sculpture than an entire person, but she offered me an exhausted smile when I brought her breakfast over to her.

“Aw, you also made me coffee, Bear,” she cooed. Then blinked. Rubbed her eyes. She pointed at her neck. “Uh, you have, uh…”

A lipstick print?

She grabbed her fork and sliced off a bite of omelet. “You might wanna get that off before Richie gets here. Or Syd. They’re gonna have a field day.”

I popped over to the bathroom to take a look at it. It looked like a tattoo. There was a perfect lipstick print right over the tendon on the side of my neck in a color somewhere between pink, maroon, brown, and red. Blue-leaning instead of orangey. Warmth bubbled in the pit of my stomach, not that dissimilar to arousal, but this one was of a lower intensity. It was comforting. It soothed me more than it riled me up.

Fuck, it looked fucking gorgeous. It was so symmetrical, so neat, had perfect edges, no smudges. It followed the angle of the muscle as it crawled up my neck. The color wasn’t jarring or bland. Most of all, it was from Darling. It was hers. She might as well have written a “property of” notice and tied it around my neck. So, Richie and Syd and Tina and Marcus were going to see it—so what? They see my tattoos, do they not? They see the adornment I chose to put on my skin so others would see; they can see this one, too. No, you don’t understand, all of you—I belong to her. Not you. Not this restaurant. Not Cicero. Darling. I belong to Darling, and all you fucks are just gonna have to get used to it.

Sug, with her mouth full. “Carm, this is so good. Thank you.”

“Modified Syd’s recipe,” I replied automatically, heading back over to the office. “I left out the potato chips because I doubt your stomach would’ve liked them at this hour.”

“Mmhm.” She looked up at me. Her eyebrows crashed together. “You’re not gonna… take that off?”

The lipstick print?

Good question. “The color suits my eyes,” I said.

[backtotheshitshow]

Wood & Words (part2)

Woodworker! James Potter and Princess! Reader.

Warnings: angssssst. James being kind of a dick? Kinda proof read.

Part1 part3

For the third day in a row there was a knock on the wood shed door.

Upon entering the shed Y/n was surprised to find James not in the middle of his work but leaning against the wall gazing at the book she had given him.

“Oh your majesty. Good morning.” James said closing the book quickly and placing it on his work bench.

“Good morning Mr Potter, I see you’ve been practicing.” She smiled.

“Oh um yes:” he glanced over at the book with an annoyed expression.

“And how is that going for you.” She smiled rocking on her heels with excitement.

“I believe I had enough for today.”

James had been studying the same couple of pages for two hours this morning and had picked up none of it. The words made no sense and the sentence all mushed together.

James had a tendency to get irritable when he was embarrassed or self-conscious.

It was only natural that he was fed up after two hours of not learning to read a single word. He looked up at the princess, frustrated.

“Oh I see. Are you having trouble.” She asked.

This only made James more frustrated. “I’m not having ‘trouble’ I’m not a child.” He said bluntly.

He turned to his work bench, it looked as though he was working on the shelves of the book stand.

“I didn’t mean it that way..” she scrunched her brows growing slightly annoying at his dismissiveness towards her but she tried to stay calm . “Would you like me to help, perhaps having someone else explaining things will benefit you.”

James did not respond to her. He continued sanding one of the shelf slats.

“Mr Potter?”

“I’ve told I don’t want your help. I’ve excepted the book as a gift and now I’m studying it. Is that not enough for you?” He said not taking his eyes of his work, his voice filled annoyance.

She looked at his profile in shock, why was he being so rude.

“I’m only trying to help.” She sounded both hurt and angry by his out burst.

“Perhaps it’s best if I just leave you be then. l’ll return in a week to fetch those things I asked you to make…I won’t bother you beyond that.” She was quick to turn on her heels and head for the door.

James saw how hurt she was at his reply. He’d felt embarrassed, but he hadn’t meant to cause the Princess so much distress.

In one abrupt motion, he stepped forward and grabbed her hand, stopping her from leaving.

“Wait!” James froze when he realized what he’d done. Touching the princess without permission not to long ago would have gotten him hanged. Thankfully those rules do apply anymore but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t face serious punishment if she reported it.

He was embarrassed but he didn’t dare pull away, even if it was probably the more appropriate course of action.

“Let go of me.” She said in an annoyed tone.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I shouldn’t have touched you. Forgive me.” James rambled.

“It’s alright James..” she sighed. The sound of her calling him by his first name was sweet to him.

James was speechless for a few moments, having not expected to hear the Princess calling him by his name, again.

It was a nice reminder that she did in fact viewed him as an equal.

“You’re not bothering me. I just…I get embarrassed rather easily when it comes to my... illiteracy, You've been nothing but kind and I’m so very sorry for my behaviour." He explains.

“I…if you don’t mind I would like you to help me.” He admitted looking away from her.

“You do?” Y/n had the biggest grin on her face and look of hope in her eyes. James simply nodded.

“Come sit outside then.” She grabbed his hand and the book, pulling him outside quickly. After a few steps she took a seat on the ground near a tree.

She pulled him by his arm to sit next to her.

“Okay now where was it that you were up to?” She asked pending the book and scooting closer until their shoulders touched.

“Page 6, I believe.”

Y/n tuned to page six. ‘Silent Letters and Homophones.’ She simply smiled.

“Ahh I see…you know I’ve had several private tutors and to this day I this find these to be a pain in the back side.” She confessed.

“Really?” James asked raising an eyebrow. Her confession made him feel a little better about how hard he had found that section to understand.

“Yes I mean your telling me, that when they made the English language no one sat and thought ‘hmmm maybe we don’t need three different theres or a silent k at the beginning of knock.’ It’s ridiculous.”

James only laughed. Y/n began going over a few pages with him explaining the topics as best she could.

“Does…does that make sense?” She asked.

“So ‘ee’ and ‘ea’ are the same?” James responded chancing at the book from over the princess shoulder.

“Yes.”

“Then what’s the point of having both.” James said

“I don’t know..” she laughed turning towards him.

Their noses were only a few short centimetres apart. She examined the specks within his hazel eyes. He had such kind eyes.

“Thank you for helping me, I’m sorry I was so harsh.” He whispered to her not breaking eye contact.

“It’s no problem at all.”

They held there places, a thick tension sat in the spaces between the two, for only a second he glanced down, the princess’s lips ever so slightly parted. He leaned forward, the tips of the nose just grazing each other….

“Y/n!! “ the voice of her mothers lady in waiting, Ms Anne, startled the both of them. “Where are you it is almost supper?!”

“Christ. Where did the time go?” Y/n was quick to her feet. “I’m sorry I must go.” She said dusting off her dress.

“No it’s alright.” James said.

His head felt cloudy. still a bit dazed by how close they had been only moments ago.

Within the blink of an eye the princess was dashing away. He watched has her hair moved along with her in the light breeze. She always look so heavenly.

…..

The following morning Y/n was preparing for the day. She thanked her lady in waiting for assisting her with her dress and sat at her desk.

"Good morning my dear." The queen entred the room.

"Oh good morning mother. Lovely day outside don't you think?" Y/n said with a happy smile.

"Yes it is. Planning on taking a stroll are you?”

"Yes actually I was.” She smiled.

"Hmm, Off to see Mr Potter I suppose." The queen gave a little smirk of amusement.

Y/n's face dropped, her mothers comment caught her off guard. "I- mother it's not... I can explain. He's simply..."

"Oh yes simply making a book stand correct?" The queen smiled with a light laugh. Y/n only nodded.

“That’s not what Ms Anne seems to think. “ the queen took a seat in the edge of y/n four post bed.

“Ms Anne?!”

“Yes she said you too seemed very close when she came across the two of you yesterday afternoon.” The queen said with a smile.

"Mother I-"

"It's alright my dear. You never did seem suited to all those stuffy princes anyway."

"Mother it's not like that. There nothing.....romantic about the situation." Y/n explained.

"Perhaps not. However have a sneaking feeling you're not happy about that" the queen stood once more.

Y/n looked to the floor. As usually her mother was right. "Mother I've known him for three days."

"Your grandfather meet your grandmother at breakfast and had proposed to her by supper time. If anything you two are dragging this out." They both laughed.

"Alright then off you go... he's probably waiting to see if you'll show up again."

Y/n hugged her mother tightly. "Thank you" she said before darting out of the room and heading towards the castle exit.

————

I love this series so much already.

[uplatterme]

Cherry Wine

—sub!kaeya/dom!reader, transmasc!kaeya/gn!reader | implied fwb relationship, fwb to lovers, hurt/comfort | mentioned nipple play, fingering (kaeya!receiving), edging, semi-public handjob (kaeya!receiving), mention of kaeya’s tcock like once though anatomy is kept pretty vague and gender-neutral

—kinda based on cherry wine by grentperez, that song has been on replay for days.

It’s not unusual for the Knights of Favonius to have these sorts of events, gatherings were held to provide some sort of bonding amongst other knights. A teambuilding activity, if you will.

He holds a glass of dandelion wine and the aroma reminds him of his…The smell reminds him of Angel’s Share and the said owner of that bar who isn’t here, and what he wouldn’t give to be in his position.

He stands idly in a secluded space, not wanting to catch the attention of the others who seem to be having a much more enjoyable time than he is.

His eyes wander around, examining his colleagues and other guests socializing.

The Cavalry Captain spots you and then out of nowhere, his hand is moving on its own, forcing him to drink the rest of the alcohol to hide the creeping blush starting to show on his face.

He turns around and faces the wall which is probably more suspicious than him just standing there alone, now that he thinks about it. However, he’d rather be caught dead than have you say something about him staring at you.

See, conversing with you isn’t really a problem. After all, you two have been friends ever since and even perform some acts that the average friendship doesn’t usually account for. Suffice to say, the knight trusts you a lot.

However, Kaeya might have stepped over that line a week ago…which is why he’s ignoring every letter you’ve sent to him. 

My Kaeya, I apologize for not meeting up with you lately. I have been stumped with the new work that Jean has assigned me for the rest of the week. Here are some flowers that I’ve gathered while I’m out in Liyue. I hope they won’t wither by the time you get this letter. I miss you.

He internally screams once he remembers the contents of that letter. A lovely bouquet of qingxin, one which he immediately freezes to keep alive for as long as he possibly can. You were really too nice of a friend to him.

You’ve always referred to him as “My Kaeya” ever since the first letter you formally sent. So he assumes it’s a friendly term to refer to him, something that he shouldn’t read further into if he doesn’t want to get his feelings hurt.

Also, it may or may not be his fault that you were assigned that many workloads from Jean…

He already messed up last week.

He tried to forget about it, but it’s impossible to forget when your fingers were inside of him, his juices soaking the sheets while your tongue had its way with his chest, nibbling his nipples just the way he likes them as your saliva trails down from his scars to his stomach.

It wasn’t even that bad. Literally, there were worse times when you two got at it like two wolves in heat, yet somehow that was when his mind just decided to spew out those three specific words.

He sounded like he was enjoying himself on a honeymoon with his newlywed. What was he thinking… he could have moaned out literally anything else. Hell, he would have rather moaned out in Khaenri’ahn for fucks sake. 

Yet he didn't, he said something much idiotic.

He can’t even say it in his mind right now, he’s far too embarrassed.

Kaeya is uncertain whether you heard him or not. He didn’t see you respond strangely at all, so is it possible you were too focused? Or maybe you did, and he just didn’t notice because he climaxed right after that mishap of his…

He’s hoping it’s the former.

He fidgets with the glass in his hand, breathing to calm himself down before turning around again. 

“Hi.”

Kaeya’s heart jumps at the sight of you being so near to him. How long have you been there to begin with?

“Hello.” He replies as cooly as he can, averting his gaze away from you.

“I’m back.”

“I see that.” Archons, what is he saying?

“Are you—” 

You cut yourself off, pursing your lips and giving him a smile before continuing. He’s seconds away from just bolting out of here.

“Did you like the flowers?”

“I did.” He answers.

“Good.” 

And as if it couldn’t get any worse, the hired musicians changes the current music playing to a more…romantic one.

That’s fine. He’s good at these kinds of things.

Kaeya shoves any sign of embarrassment or nervousness away and looks straight at you directly. You must have drank a lot, the dilation in your eyes makes it easy to tell.

“Care for a dance?” You invited.

“My, are you sure you can keep up?” He bites back.

“Probably not, but if it prevents you from standing by yourself then I’ll dance with you as long as I can.”

The genuineness of your words always manages to stir him up.

Kaeya laughs. “I see you’ve had much to drink.”

“Sure, something like that.” He catches a grin from you despite the way you bow at him.

He shakes his head, offering his hand in front of you. There’s a slightly noticeable tremble his hand makes but you place your hand onto his, keeping him still.

“I’m afraid a simple waltz is all I can do, I’m no Eula.” You admit.

“It’s fine. I’ll lead.” Kaeya says, trying to act as confidently as he can. 

“Alright then, Captain.”

His arm wraps around your waist as you place your hand on his shoulder. His breathing staggers but he tries to focus on the music and his feet, swaying you along with him. He dances gracefully, of course. Not that it’s surprising as he grew up in the Ragnvindr household.

He knows people are watching, he doesn’t meet their faces or yours.

“Kaeya.” You speak.

He raises his head. It’s bad etiquette to not look at the one you’re dancing with, though he hopes he can be forgiven just this once.

“Can we talk after this?”

He loses track of the time and his body moves as if it’s on autopilot. He only realizes that the music has stopped and so does he, when the people around him are clapping.

Kaeya faces you again, unsure of what to do. 

All of the sudden, his body is being dragged away to a more quiet spot, Your hand gripping his wrist. The balcony provides room for the two of you, the rest of the party being hidden away by the fancy curtain.

“Are you cold?” You ask.

The breeze is a bit shivering but he’s used to the cold due to the cryo vision he holds. 

“I’m fine.” 

He hears you sigh, as if that answer he’s given you was somehow wrong. You grab a flask from the inside of his blazer, taking a swig before handing it to him.

Kaeya smells the alcohol and he worries. “More alcohol?”

“It’s my first drink tonight.”

He doubts that, although he finds that there’s no reason for you to lie.

So, why do you keep giving him those eyes?

Kaeya gives in, drinking the rest. Warmth grows on his face and he’s unsure whether it’s from the wine or the fact that your mouth was just on the flask.

“This is new.” He examines it with a closer look.

“Cherry Wine. Diluc gave it to me, apparently it’s from a merchant he met.”

Kaeya chuckles. “I see you’ve been conspiring with my brother.”

There’s jealousy obvious when he says that, but who was he to be jealous? The line of friendship becomes more and more obscured.

“Well, unlike someone. He actually finds time to reply to my letters.”

“You’re mad.” He points out.

“Here I thought you were too dense to even notice that.” 

You close the distance between you two, his hands holding on the railings of the balcony as your hand steadies his back, kissing him deeply and much longer than any of the kisses you’ve given him.

His heart thumps from his chest, wanting more of your lips when you separate from him.

“Say it again. Tell me I didn’t mishear.” You plead.

“I…What?” You did hear him.

“Do I have to fuck it out of your mouth again?”

“Sweetheart, we’re in public. Gods, how strong is that wine—hey, wait!”

Your hand slips down his pants, palming the growing erection from under. Kaeya bites the back of his hand, your hand stroking his hardened tcock while you observe his face with a stern look.

“C-Come on, I really didn’t say anything.” He says, halfway between a soft whine and a cry.

“Captain, I didn’t take you for a liar and a coward.”

He’s dripping wet, he knows by the way the cloth sticks to the skin on his thigh. The pace you’re going at is undeniably slow, and he knows you won’t let him finish if he doesn't say those words again.

“Please?” Kaeya begs. It’s been a week without your touch and frankly, it’s a week too long.

“It’s admirable how you’d rather have me pleasure you like this in front of everybody rather than just admitting it.”

The knight knows that he’s enjoying this far more than he should be and that it’s the only thing worth remembering about this gathering.

And then your hand grips him tighter and his legs quiver, cursing your name out in a breathy moan. 

“What’s wrong? Poor Captain wants to cum, does he?” You tease.

“You ass.”

His thighs rub together, wanting more of that extra friction. He admits that the action is quite humiliating, though if there’s a way to get himself off without confessing his feelings for you, then he’ll gladly do that.

“No. Spread them apart.” You ordered.

“H-Huh?”

“You heard me.”

He follows through, a squeaky whimper escaping his throat.

“So desperate, My Kaeya.”

His foot almost missteps when he feels the warmth from one of your fingers slowly penetrating him. Oh fuck, you cannot be serious.

He throws his head back as you continue to explore more of his insides. And just like before, you’re meticulously playing with him just so he breaks apart.

“I already said please.”

“And it’s appreciated, dear. But that’s not what I wanted to hear.”

“Fuck…hn, you—”

He stays a wreck like that for a few minutes, not being allowed the permission to cum from your fingers. Why do you want him to say it that bad anyways? Do you really want to reject him like this? Right now?

Kaeya’s body feels heavy.

He’s close, oh so close. 

His nails dig into the skin of his palms, he hears the inside get quieter and for a second, he assumes that it’s because of how he’s gasping and panting because of you.

He shakes those thoughts, knowing how loud the music and gossiping of the knights must be.

“Do you not like me?” You blurt out.

What an absurd question. Why do you think he’s letting you do this?

“Am I too pushy, Kaeya?” 

Your words are contrasting your actions far too differently. Your fingers start to get rougher, he’s painfully hard and he just wants to—He can’t—he physically cannot hold it any longer.

The mention of your name is indistinguishable from a slobbering baby, he holds your waist again although for a particularly different reason this time.

It’s so cheesy how he gets so lovesick whenever he cums.

“I-I love you.”

His entire body collapses into an orgasm. He sobs onto your chest, he’s unsure whether it’s because of how fucking good that felt or the forthcoming response you’ll give as he’s finally admitted it.

What he didn’t expect however, is the fact that it’s not only his face that’s soaking from tears.

“I hate you.” You say.

There’s a hurt in his chest and he wants to take it back but what’s already been said is right there. He wants to apologize. It’s his fault after all for thinking anybody would think of him as anything more than a friend, for catching feelings—

His thoughts are silenced as you kiss him once more, it only lasts for a few and he’s left stunned as to why you would do that.

“I thought you finally caught on. I was so happy when you said you love me, I was caught off guard,”

You take a deep breath, calming yourself.

“And then, you decide to avoid me?! I even sent you qingxin, and you know I don’t like high places!”

…

“You like—no, you love me?” Kaeya states, the thought seems way too unbelievable.

“Obviously! Who in their right mind would address their friend as theirs?” You spat back.

You groan, pushing his already weak body away.

“I love you too, Kaeya. Don’t do that again, okay? You worried the shit out of me.”

“I…Okay. I won’t, I promise.”

He starts walking towards you shakily before pulling you into a tight hug. 

It’s a strange hug. The breeze is far too cold, your clothes are now sticky, and both of your eyes are red from crying. 

Yet somehow, it’s comforting.

It’s perfect.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Once Upon a Time 1

Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: Andy Barber

Part of the Bookstore AU

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You don’t mind working evenings during the week. In the hour before closing time, it’s pretty slow. There isn’t much for you to do much follow the tune of the instrumental jazz and lean on the counter behind your till. Management is hidden in the back office so you don’t even need to pretend to work.

So it is that you’re startled at the unexpected figure strutting around the table of stationary and novelties across from the checkout. You stand straight as you smile at the man, not letting it falter as you recognise him. You brace yourself and swallow as your mouth runs dry. He’s been here almost every day this week; at least, when you’ve been in.

“Oh, uh,” you don’t notice anything in his hands aside from his cell phone, “Mr. Pine isn’t here, sir. I’m sorry.”

He doesn’t reply until he’s at the counter. His blue eyes bore into you as he rests his hand against the edge, gripping his phone tight. A small furrow scrunches between his brows.

“I didn’t ask,” he smiles.

“Well, er, sorry, I thought…” you chew your lip nervously. Each time he’s been in, he’s asked for the store owner. You assume he knows him. And he’s of the demographic who likes to make a fuss when he doesn’t get what he wants. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed.”

“You shouldn’t have,” he agrees, still grinning.

You squirm and run your fingertips over the keyboard. “Well, is there anything I can help you find? We’re closing up soon–”

“You’re trying to get me to leave?” He challenges.

“Not at all,” you croak. “Sorry, sir.”

“Andy,” he pulls his hand away, instead crossing his arms and leaning his elbows on the counter. He reads your name tag, “it’s fine. I was just looking around. Figure a book might help keep me busy.” 

He has a very intense way of watching you. Very on the point. He speaks directly to you, but you’re more the type to focus above someone or past them.

“Do you have a favourite genre?” You prompt. It’s easiest to talk about work and you have a dozen suggestions.

“Not really. You know, I work a lot and I never really had a chance to read much outside of deposition records,” he shrugs and raises his eyebrows, “don’t make my mistakes. Don’t waste your life working overtime. Enjoy the small things. Like books, you’re never gonna find a fairytale in real life.”

You feel a bit bad for him but try not to show it. You don’t want to insult it and he seems to pendulum between amiable and unapproachable. You nod and put on your customer service smile.

“Oh, thanks, I guess you’re probably right,” you eke out, “do you like thrillers? They’re pretty popular and we’re having a special.”

“Hm, I suppose that’s somewhere to start,” he rubs his beard, the hand clutching his phone against the counter as he leans on the same elbow, “what do you read?”

You give your usual answer, vague and not entirely false, “fantasy, mostly.”

“Like The Hobbit or whatever?” He wonders.

“Sure, I’ve read that,” you say.

“My wife– ex, now, she was a Tolkien fan,” his lips slant, “twenty years, no kids. Got nothing to show for it.” He pushes himself straight, “I’m sorry, you caught me on a bad night. I, whatever you suggest, I’ll take it. I need something to get my mind off of… everything.”

“Oh, sure, well, we have our best sellers down here,” you point over the counter and the racks between each till, “Conrad’s always a good choice.”

He hums and backs up. He peruses the books silently as you twiddle your fingers impatiently. You’ve had awkward encounters with customers before, almost daily, but something about him is a bit too cringe for you. You hate to even think like that. You feel mean. He’s just going through some things. And who isn't?

He plucks up a book and comes back to your till. He lays it down and slides his phone into his pants pocket, then reaches under his jacket. He takes out his wallet and pauses as he unfolds it, “wait, do you get commission? I could grab a few more.”

“Um, no,” you login and scan the barcode on the book, “but there’s a survey on you receipt. If you fill that out, I get credit for that.”

“Oh, sure, a survey,” he agrees as he slides out a card.

“And did you have our rewards card?” You ask.

He shakes his head, “what’s that?”

Great. You peek at the time in the corner of the till screen. It’s getting close to closing.

“So, for purchases you collect points. Kinda like air miles. When you buy items that are part of a promotion, you receive double, and for prestige members, there are triple point days. You can collect points to earn store credit.”

He nods and considers it. He tilts his head as his cheek dimples, “so, that costs money?”

“Yes, twenty-five dollars for paperback level and forty for prestige.”

He weighs the options. You expect the amounts to deter him like most customers. He taps his card on the counter, “you know what, I’ll do the forty. I’m looking to get into reading so I’ll be back for sure.”

“Oh, uh, right, okay,” you say with surprise, “I’ll just get you registered.”

You reach past the till and grab one of the cards displayed behind it. You scan it and go through the whole routine; name, phone number, email. You get all his info in and offer him a bag before you turn the debit machine towards him. He taps his card and the approval chirps loudly.

“Great, so, if you wanna do the survey,” you say as his receipt prints out, “you can scan this QR code and it will direct you straight to the survey.” You tear off the receipt and circle at the bottom, “my employee number is here, you’ll have to enter that and the transaction ID.”

You fold the receipt and hand it over. He takes it and looks it over with a squint. He raises his chin and gives a half-smile, “um, this QR thing? How do I… I’m sorry, I’m a bit slow. Could you show me?”

You want to say no. You want to point to the clock and tell him to have a good day but he’s actually going to do the survey. You need a good review.

“Sure, um, I’ll show you. Just on your phone,” you step closer as he digs his hand in his pants pocket, “let me see the receipt.”

“Thank you so much,” he says, “you’re so patient with me.”

[0kayblue]

Choices

Choices 

A drunken kiss, unspoken feelings, and a nasty argument leaves Leon in a cracked state. Painfully stuck in the crossroads of realization that nothing is going to get better until he starts talking and actively takes the steps to come to terms with his past and his disjointed emotions. 

Word count: Almost 5k (not throughly proof read)

Angst. Language. Gun mentioned. Drinking mentioned. Happy ending. Partners to friends to lovers? The timeline is a little funky so let me explain: the events of Raccoon City take place in 2004 and that places this story towards the start of 2011.

A/N: Long time no see, huh? Things got heavy and they got heavy fast. Between vacation, moving, and the holidays; I’ve kinda fallen off the face of the planet. But it is what it is and I’m back for a minute or two. 

As far as requests are concerned I’m working on them, but I get distracted with other ideas. My google doc is full of rough outlines and unfinished works in progress. I don’t have any idea when things will come out, they just will. I apologize, but damn, life is stressful. 

Anyway, I hope you all are having a lovely day, week, month, and year. Please enjoy!!

“Hey. . .” Leon starts, his voice low and like gravel with uncertainty. A sense of deprecating self-consciousness following in the silence, before he lets out a frustrated huff. “You didn’t pick up, not that I’m surprised. . .but still, it hurts.” He admits as his grip on his phone grows tighter before it loosens and a conflicted sigh leaves him. 

“I’m. . .sorry.” He struggles with the apology as he shuts his eyes and another exasperated sigh leaves him, “Truly, I am sorry. I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did and I shouldn’t have pointed the finger at you. It’s not your fault and it never has been. I need you to know that, I need you to know that I know how I’ve been acting lately is stupid and. . .” He stops as he opens his eyes and looks around the dim space of his empty living room, the loneliness of this moment threatening to swallow him whole. The numbing silence of the room mixed with the silence on the other end of the phone became too much to handle causing him to swallow the confession on the tip of his tongue. 

He licks the dryness from his lips as his other hand goes to massage his forehead in a stiff and irritated manner. He sucks his teeth as his hand falls while he lets out a disheartened sigh as the words fall from his lips, “I can’t do this without you here.” He admits with frustrated sorrow, “I need to see you. I need you to look at me. I need you to. . .I just need you.” 

The static of the other empty line cuts through silence like a rusted combat knife through brittle sheet metal. Leon’s lips part for another sigh to escape him, but it never does. The air stays lodged in his throat before he painfully swallows. 

“Look,” The word came out dry and somewhat short, before he clears his throat. “I’ve got some things I have to deal with, but if you could come over just for a moment—or at least call me back– it doesn’t have to be tonight; but sometime.” He can’t stop it from sounding like a desperate ramble; a plea for your silence to be broken.

“I don’t know when I’ll be back, but it probably won’t be until the early hours of the morning so if you could just at least call me back tonight. Let me know you’re okay. You don’t have to give me any other information and I won’t ask, I just want to make sure you’re okay.” He explains softly, biting his tongue to keep himself from making the accusations that scream at him. 

He opens his mouth to say more, to at least say ‘bye’; but he can’t, so he pulls the phone away from his ear and he ends the call. A frustrated grunt leaving him as he peers down at your contact photo, his gaze softening as he studies the smile on your face. The photo one that he cherishes with every heart string he has; a moment he was able to capture without you knowing. The rarity of being able to capture a genuine smile on your face. He recalls the day fondly and for a moment a smile curls at his lips until he eyes glance at the time in the top left corner of the thin device. He locks his phone as he stands from the loveseat you often perched yourself in whenever you were over, the seat cushion practically molded to only sit your frame comfortably. 

Putting the phone in his pocket he makes his way through the kitchen and to the door that leads to the garage; grabbing his car keys from the key hooks by the door and opening the garage door. 

The dark of night not holding its usual tranquility as the earthy smell of the heavy rain floods his nostrils. It’s eerily fitting given his current circumstances and it makes his skin crawl slightly as he gets into the driver seat and starts the car. Putting the car in reverse he backs out of the garage, his ears starting to ring slightly as the quietness of the night floods the car. A slight scoff leaves him as he goes to shut the garage door and he heads north towards his destination. 

—------------------------------------------------------------

Leon drives for hours in silence trying to put his head together. Trying to string together what exactly he wants to say while also remaining focused on the road ahead. All his thoughts scattered and disorganized; any sense of pulling it together immediately wiped out whenever his phone buzzed. A thin line of hope is always shattered when he glances at it and it’s just another notification about god knows what. It didn’t matter and he didn’t care because it was never your name on the screen. 

It felt as if you were playing this silent treatment thing as if your life depended on it and it was killing him. Suffocating him. Each ping brings him above the tidal wave for just a moment before being dragged back under by the force of the freezing crisp waves. He could almost taste the bitter salt water with each defeated sigh of disappointment. 

His glare on the road sharpens as he sees the abandoned gas station, slows, and makes the sharp right turn into the parking lot. The sound of stray gravel gritting against the tread of the tires as the car reaches its destination, Leon on the other hand still has another hour until he reaches his. 

A single unmarked cruiser awaiting him parked perfectly in between two faded and barely visible white lines. He parks his own car a couple spots away from the cruiser before he shuts it off and steps out of the car, grabbing his phone and keys sliding them into his back pocket as he takes calculated steps to the cruiser. The rain only becomes more intense as he tries not to be affected by the cold laced into every drop that hits him, soaking his clothes slightly. 

“Should’ve brought an umbrella.” He mutters to himself as he opens the driver’s side door of the cruiser and gets in. He shakes slightly in an effort to get any excess water off before running a hand through his damp hair, the water slicking it back for just a moment before his bangs fall back into place. 

He leans over the center console and gets into the glove compartment on the passenger’s side. A single car key and a beretta 92fs pistol sit exactly where they were supposed to be. He opts for the cool metal of the hand gun as he picks it up and inspects the weapon briefly, leaving the safety on before he sets it in the passenger seat. He then takes the car key and starts the car, whereas his car was quiet the cruiser engine debates on whether or not to come to life and he almost took it as a sign to give up despite not being a superstitious man; but he digresses as the old cruiser decides that Leon is worth the ride. 

Just as he goes to put the car in reverse his phone pings and he immediately takes his hand from the gear shift and fishes for it with a grunt from his back pocket. A moment of relief leaves him as this time the contact that greets him is yours. Quick to unlock the phone he is greeted with a text of only one word:

 ‘Maybe.’ 

“Maybe?” He grumbles, “What the hell does that even mean?” He asks no one but himself and yet is met with the low rumble of the cruiser’s transmission. Before really thinking he goes and types a reply, staring at the message with a puzzled expression. 

‘Maybe what exactly?’ 

Surprisingly he barely moved before he got a reply.

‘Just maybe.’

He takes in a deep breath before letting it out in a shaky manner. Stubborn, you were always so stubborn. Of course he was too, but he was the one actively trying not to be this time. He was the one trying to get you to open up and not the other way around. Trying to get you to communicate with him, trying to get you to be vulnerable with him, trying to repair the rift between the two of you.

‘Can I get more than maybe?’

‘Please.’ 

He knows it’s his fault. He understands that regardless of how you left he still hurt you and you still had every right to be upset with him. Neither of you made anything official, never committed to anything, and he was a fool to think that a drunk kiss meant that his feelings were reciprocated and defined you both as an unit. He should have known that your avoidance of him the next day meant that something was off, but he convinced himself that you understood everything. That you knew everything he’s wanted to say for months. So, when he was informed of you being around someone who clearly was no good for you; he snapped.

‘I’ll be by.’

It wasn’t much, but it was something. A crumb that would subside the ache he felt. He lets out a sigh of relief as a small and soft smile finds his face. It was confirmation to him that he hasn’t lost you completely. He hadn’t lost you. 

‘When?’ 

‘Tonight. Please.’

He stares at the screen waiting for a reply he doubts he will get; so he isn’t surprised as agonizing seconds turn into minutes. Glancing at the time he knows he needs to move, and he will. Just a minute more. 

A minute passes, then two, and still no reply. He runs a hand through his hair before it finds the steering wheel, gripping it with force. Trying to let out some of the agitation he felt in the least harmful way possible. He tosses the phone into the passenger seat before taking his leave. 

—------------------------------------------------------------

Leon pulls up to the agreed upon meeting spot, the headlights of the cruiser reflecting off of the multiple ‘WARNING’ and ‘DANGER’ signs. All signs informing the public to stay clear of the abandoned wreckage that was the nightmare that started his adult life. 

He clenched his teeth as he parks the cruiser and before killing the engine he scrutinizes the rusted, faded, and graffitied sign that read: 

‘Welcome to Raccoon City

Home of Umbrella’

He can’t help the cold unforgiving glare that hardens his features as he stares intensely at that damn sign. A sign that he once was looking forward to seeing, a sign that was supposed to harken in a new beginning for him. A chapter of his life that he never got to write the way he intended too. 

He forces himself to look away as he kills the engine. All that anger and contempt in every movement he makes; the emotions barely subtle as he grabs the pistol and makes his leave from the cruiser. Uncleaned debris crunching under the harsh step of his sturdy weight. The former storm subsided to a gentle drizzle. As if the weather was deciding to be gentle towards him, to be kind as he faced the location of so much of his trauma. Dulled screams and flashbacks of all the things he saw that night flashing throughout every corner of his brain. He grits his teeth as he slams the door of the cruiser shut, the heavy bang ceasing the noise. The memories. 

He keeps his focus trained ahead as he strides closer to the steel chain fencing with sturdy steps, the dim yellow light from aged street lights illuminating his path with a dull hum. Unclenching his jaw he puts the pistol into the tight waistband of his jeans as he starts to climb the rusted fence that murmurs whines underneath the weight of his body. 

Getting to the top he throws one leg over before deciding to make the jump to the other side. A grunt leaves him as the soles of his shoes make contact with the pitch black pavement, a sharp yet brief pain shooting up his legs. Standing up straight he pulls the pistol from his waistband, shuts the safety off, and proceeds forward. Acutely aware of his surroundings as his stomach starts to turn and bile threatens to creep up his throat. 

Luckily he doesn’t have to travel far as the person he is set to meet waits in the shadows, the click of her heels against the damp pavement making Leon fully aware of her presence as he points the gun at her out of fear. It isn’t until she steps closer that he lowers his weapon. 

“Leon.” Ada says as she looks at him intently. Giving him a once over before she speaks again, “Someone is jumpy, I see.” 

“Yeah, well, it’s the location.” Leon says as he stands up straight, his shoulders remaining tense. Ada nods in a sense of understanding. 

“You went through it to track me down and I’ll admit I’m impressed; but I have to ask: why?” Ada’s voice is smooth and low, clearly guarded. 

“There’s something I have to talk to you about. Something I need to address.” He admits. 

Ada studies him, the tension he carries nearly slapping her across the face; and she knows all the blame can’t just be put on the location. The rubble on the street is a physical representation of the crumbs of trust that was shared between the two of them. 

“So, then why go through the trouble?” She inquires, her brow raising slightly, “I’m certain whatever it is you are here to-.” 

“No, I need you to hear what I have to say.” He says cutting her off. Clearly uncomfortable, unfamiliar, and direct with her; this whole situation reeking of a rotten smell that they could practically taste. 

“Different.” She simply states, very different from their previous meeting six months prior in the rural misty mountainous region of Spain. A change that was lost on her is now clearly present. It’s rough, jagged; and not something she is used to when it comes to him. 

The two stare at each other in silence, trying to piece each other together. A clear lack of communication ringing out into the night, something that wasn’t uncommon between the two. 

“Do you-.” Leon starts but suddenly stops the question in its tracks. He knew the answer and it was pointless to even ask; so he opts for the next question, “Why didn’t you try and reach out?” 

The question takes Ada aback and it shows physically as her eyes widen just slightly before returning to that uncaring gaze. She ponders on how to approach this. On what to say. Coming up short she decides not to say anything regarding the subject; so she changes it. 

“Is this about them?” She asks and immediately Leon plants his feet. Knowing that her them meant you; and the feeling didn’t settle well in his bones. His teeth gritted together as his jaw locked. Yet, the fact of the matter remained: she was partly right. 

“It is, isn’t it.” Ada states as she crosses her arms, a sense of pride finding her as she figured him out so quickly. 

“And if it is?” Leon asks, hoping in vain to throw her off the scent by playing this with a harsh coyness. 

“You’re still hung up over a kiss?” Ada asks, the question slipping from her lips without thinking. A rarity from her, so much so that it takes her aback as the harshness of her words hits Leon with a pang of disappointment. 

“That’s not what I’m hung up on.” Leon answers, bitterness clinging to each word, “I’m hung up on the fact that after everything I—everything we—went through you didn’t even try to tell me you survived that fall. That you survived and you didn’t bother to at least leave me something to show you were still alive; and don’t even try and say you couldn’t find me. You could have. Easily.” His voice grew stronger with every word he spoke, his conflicting emotions present in each syllable. 

Ada is stunned by his candor, the hurt that she caused him present leaving her baffled and grasping for straws. He was being raw here, he was showing her his cards that he held so tightly to his chest. 

“That night was the ending to so much. That night—to me— was an unimaginable horror I was not prepared to face; and you…you were right there. You knew so much more than I did and you remained cryptic.” Leon states with a defeated and heavy breath, “It’s easy to direct my anger there; but I know that’s not where it belongs. That isn’t where my heart places it, even though it probably should be because you played it like a fiddle; but that’s not it. Not the way you used me. Manipulated me. What it is in all honesty is the fact that I couldn’t save you. That you slipped from my grip, but yet you still cling to me.” 

Silence falls between the two again, but this time it’s different. It’s not a burden even though it remains heavy.  

“So you tracked me down to tell me this?” 

“I tracked you down so you can let me go.”

The statement left Leon in one breath as he looked at her with a softness to his eyes. A vulnerability in his gaze that swallowed Ada whole. The lack of light behind his eyes shadowing her in a darkness she never expected to feel from him. Her own emotions are becoming hard to keep in check, as her insides start to simmer with an almost forgotten feeling. 

The silence clings to their clothes as the night time air becomes lodged in Leon’s throat. Nearly choking him as he examined Ada intently, trying to guess her next move. Trying to put himself in her shoes long enough to figure out what she might be thinking; but all of this was so foreign. So he retreated back into his own head and just decided it was best to let her move from here. He decided it was best to just stop; and that decision flooded his body with relief. His jaw relaxing, his shoulder falling slightly, his knees no longer locked; the utter relief he felt just voicing how he felt was something he least expected.

“Okay.” Ada said, breaking the silence. This newfound development changed something in her that she couldn’t pinpoint. Something half of her refused to pinpoint. This growth she sees from him changes her perception of him. 

“Okay.” Leon repeats with a small nod as the subtle rain drops that have been hitting him start to increase. They stand in a tense awkward silence as the wind starts to pick up and begin to howl a broken howl that wavered like a gasped sob. Leon turns to leave before the rain starts to heavily pour again, but the question that falls from Ada causes him to stop. 

“Are you doing this all for them?” She asks, crossing her arms. While Leon looks at her with confliction, still not pleased with her need to keep you in the conversation. 

“Not completely.” He answers; and that is the truth. He needed this for himself, he knew that; but it would be a lie if you didn’t inspire him to take the leap. That you didn’t assure him that he didn’t have to constantly be fighting this inner turmoil, that he could form some type of peace with it; and most importantly that he didn’t have to do it alone. He deserved to care for himself, something he never considered until he felt the gentle warmth of your care. 

“I’d prefer if you would leave them out of it.” Leon says, a protective pitch in his tone that packed a subtle bite. It didn’t catch her off guard, it was him she was dealing with; and she knew that regardless of the strengths she had briefly seen from you in Spain that Leon would still be protective of you. 

So, Ada just nods, turns, and takes her leave,“Goodbye, Leon.” Ada says as Leon watches her walk back towards what he assumed was her entry point was located. 

As her form disappears into the black of night Leon lets out a deep breath with a slight shake of his head; his limbs heavy from the strain of the stress he carried in them.

“Goodbye, Ada.” 

———————————————————--------------------------

It was nearly four in the morning when Leon pulled into his garage. Your vehicle was nowhere in his line of sight as he pulled up to his house. Not that he was surprised, your answer was just a maybe, and he didn’t want you to push yourself out of the realms of something you weren’t comfortable doing just yet. At least he let you know that you weren’t ignoring him completely and that was enough for the time being. 

He shuts off the car as an exhausted sigh leaves him while his hand runs down his face. His head starts to gently pound as he pinches the bridge of his nose. The emotional rollercoaster he has been on starts to churn his stomach, reminding him why he didn’t bother with this stuff for so long in the first place. It hurt. Everywhere. 

He closes the garage as he gets out of the car and makes his way inside. Placing his keys back on the hook, kicking off his shoes, and starting to remove his jacket he stops as he hears the muffled sound of a sitcom laugh track coming from the living room. His chest swells with hope as he quickly disregards his jacket and shoes and with large gentle strides he makes his way into the living room. His heart nearly stops when he sees you asleep on the couch. 

Stopping in his tracks he watches the soft rise and fall of your chest, you were completely and utterly lost in what he hoped was a peaceful slumber. Your arms tucked close to your chest. Your hair fanned out over the couch cushion and the arm of the couch. He fought back how he wanted to run his hand through your hair. How tempting it looked, how he knew nothing brought you more comfort than the feeling of gentle fingers working their way through your hair. He wanted to do that for you, he wanted to comfort you. He wants to give you whatever your heart desires. 

His breath hitches in his throat as he carefully sits on the edge of one of the couch cushions. His heart swells with so much love that it is overwhelming and for the first time within all of this his eyes start to glass over. Tears threatening to spill as a shaky hand slowly makes contact with the warmth of your scalp. His fingers intertwined with your hair as his thumb gingerly brushes the top of your head and a small breath of relief leaves him as he watches your body relax. He stifled a sob with a scoff as a smile found his face while he fixed his gaze on you. The person he holds the most dear. The person he would do whatever it took to just have by his side. 

A craving to show you the utmost love and affection, a craving to care for you so much deeper than what the two of you already had. He hoped with everything that you wanted more. That the ghost of your past hadn’t swallowed you up. That you would choose him. 

He finally sniffs, the sound of distress pulling you from sleep as your eyes open and find his piercing blue ones glassy with tears. You move to sit up as even in your groggy state your arms wrap around him to comfort him.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright.” You coo as your torso presses against him while one hand rubs his back and the other makes its way into his hair as you rest your chin in the crook of his neck. “It’s okay.” You soothe while Leon takes in a strangled breath his arms wrapping tightly around you as he pulls you into his lap. 

“You came.” He utters, his voice breaking slightly. 

“You called.” You answer softly. 

Leon’s grip on you tightens as he buries his head in the crook of your neck, fresh hot thick tears starting to roll down his face. You gently mumble sweet reassurances as you rub his back, allowing him to cry, allowing him to let go of all the shit he has been holding onto. The fight. The end. The struggle. He’s letting go of all of it as he keeps a firm hold on you, clinging to you as if his life depended on it. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed anything and I shouldn’t have gotten mad at you for- for being with them. I- I shouldn’t have yelled. I should have told you how I felt. I should have-.” He chokes out his apology, the saltiness of his tears finding the pallet of his tongue.

“Shh, Leon, it’s okay.” You coo rubbing his back, “Don’t force yourself to speak when you aren’t ready. Take your time.” He fists the soft fabric of your shirt as he wonders what he ever did to know the comfort of your patience. 

As Leon begins to calm down his grip on you loosens, his breathing returning to normal as his chest no longer hitches with quiet sobs. You feel him start to relax and in turn your body loses its own stiffness. You continue to hold him to you, trailing the tips of your nails gingerly up and down a patch of his back. You had no idea where Leon had been, but whatever he did has obviously left him worse for wear. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” You ask in a quiet whisper, concern ever present in your soft voice; and Leon can’t help himself.

“I love you.” He responds as he places a strong hand in between your shoulder blades keeping you pressed against him as he screws his eyes shut trying to commit this moment to memory. The feeling of your body pressed flush against his, the addictive pleasant scent of your perfume, the soft gentle flesh of your neck pressed against the scratch of his stubble. 

“I made a mistake. I shouldn’t have yelled. I should have talked to you directly. I should have seen everything.” He says as he regretfully pries himself away from you to look at you fully, his hands moving to cup your cheeks and hold your face gently in the palms of his hands. He watches the gears in your head start to turn through sparkling big doe eyes and his heart starts to melt. The realization that he wasn’t the only one that needed improvements becoming ever present as he brushes the side of his thumb over your cheek. 

“I love you and I am unbelievably sorry. Please, please, don’t shut me out.” He pleads as he studies your face, noting the way your bottom lip quivered ever so slightly. 

You both sit there in silence as he admires the sad beauty that are your features in this moment. He allows you to just sit there and feel, and think, and breathe. With all the patience in the world he waits for you. 

“I love you too.” You finally say quietly, the words falling from your lips in a hesitancy before you speak up again; but with more strength and convection, “I love you too.” 

A soft wide smile finds Leon’s face as he brings your lips to his in a soft, but desperate and passionate kiss. The taste of your lips are so much sweeter without the bitter taste of alcohol on them. Your arms snaking their way around his neck as you kiss him back the way you wanted to the first time he kissed you. His hands move to your waist to pull you closer to him as his tongue ghosts over your bottom lip. 

You part your lips allowing him access to explore the warmth of your mouth while crooking your head to the side as his tongue makes its way into your mouth. His tongue runs briefly over your teeth before it coils with your own and he sucks slightly causing a deep moan to reverberate from your chest and up your throat. 

The sound causes a smirk to curl at the corner of his lips as he parts from you regardless of how badly he wants to continue. He couldn’t help it, he had to see you; and the sight was worth it. The blissful peace on your face as you opened your eyes to look at him was worth it. A smile plastered on his face as he noted the tiredness in your eyes, the slight bags underneath them, and his hand finds your cheek as he places a kiss on your forehead. 

“Let's save the rest for tomorrow, okay? Let’s get you to bed.” He says as he moves to pick you up bridal style. He stands from the couch as your grip around him tightens as he makes his way to his bedroom.

“Leon.” You scold him slightly, but with no real seriousness to it. 

“Tomorrow.” He assures with a little nod, a playful smirk on his face. 

“Tomorrow.” You repeat with a little roll to your eyes.

[sseniita]

breaking generational trauma*

*ig the name is staying

pt 1

“Oh shit, she is related to you.” 

Hero readjusted Eloise on her lap, not paying attention. “I told you to stop swearing in front of her.” She looked back to the villain’s holographic screen, numbers, graphs, and codes she didn’t understand but were practically the villain’s mother tongue. The hero sneezed; it was cold in the villain’s lair. Wait- what did he just say?!

“We’re related?!” the hero exclaimed, rolling her chair closer to the villain. 

“It certainly looks like it. Her DNA and yours are almost identical.” The hero considered this, smiling from ear to ear.

“I’ve always wanted a daughter-” the villain shook his head. “sister?” he shook it again.

“More like a clone.” He said, much to the hero’s disappointment. 

“Will she be normal?” The hero hoped. 

“Don’t know.” The villain said quickly. “Since the procedures performed on you when you were little were practically radioactive, it changed your DNA into something very different than your original one - that’s the one Eloise’s is similar to.” 

“What’s that mean for her then?” 

“I’d have to do some more tests, but that suggests a high probability of having powers. At least eventually.” 

The villain noticed the hero begin bouncing her leg, by proxy, also bouncing a smiling Eloise up and down- at least she was enjoying this. 

“Look- it’s just a primary hypothesis. I can’t be sure of anything just yet.” 

“It’s been a month.” The villain sighed at the desperation in her voice. The dark circles under her eyes were worse than usual. She’d stayed at the villain’s place about 5 or 6 days a week, in that time she barely slept, obsessing over Eloise and what her next step should be.

“Hero, this takes time. We’re in no rush. No one knows she’s with us.” 

“Yet! Last night another hero asked me where I was all night.” 

“Well, what’d you tell them?” 

The hero sighed in embarrassment. “I told them I was having tummy issues.” She uncovered Eloise from the blanket to stand her up on her thighs, looking at her intently, it seemed as if all her issues disappeared in a second. “You’re lucky you're so cute." She told the baby. "And that you are literally me, apparently." But she wasn't. Sure, they had similarities, but no way Eloise was a clone. There was definitely something else going on that they'd get to the bottom to eventually. These thoughts were interrupted by Eloise spitting and giggling.

They stayed like that for a while, listening to Eloise babbling incoherencies. They read somewhere they should encourage a baby's babbling by nodding and repeating oh’s and ah’s. Finally the hero's exclamations isolated the villain’s- he quickly stopped. 

“How do you know that?” She asked, carefully. The villain hummed in question, prompting clarification. “About my DNA, the procedures, how’d you know that?” 

The hero could have sworn the villain stilled- stuttered even. As soon as she noticed it, it was gone. 

“It’s pretty obvious from your DNA sample, Hero. Your DNA doesn’t look the way it should. Shouldn’t be stable- yet it is. Obvious signs of some sort of radiation. People aren’t just born this way.” He spoke in quick, short sentences, very unlike him.

She ignored the way he dodged her question. The villain knew more than he was. It was no secret how extensively trained he was in medicine, engineering, and lord knows what else; proved by his ability to recover the hero from certain death, his insane contraptions and robots, and how he was able to keep up with her- in short, the villain was the smartest person the hero had ever met.

Furthermore, fighting him one on one was also unnecessary to know he was a force to be reckoned with- he always says he doesn’t work out- preferring to explain how making robots and machines are laborious tasks. No way was the hero believing that the villain got like that through daily activities when the hero trained almost five hours a day and looked nothing like him. This proved two things; the villain was totally the hero’s type, and that he could lie. Both were equally important for different reasons. 

“What’s DNA supposed to look like?” She tried, pointing to the diagram on the screen. “Looks like the ones in textbooks to me.” 

“To untrained eyes, yes.” 

“What’s yours look like? Can we compare it?” 

“My, asking to look at my DNA? That’s a bit intrusive if not forward, hero.” 

“Ah, my bad. Should I have asked to take you out to dinner first?” The villain was almost taken aback. Almost. He didn’t respond. She took note. 

She sighed, putting that topic to rest- choosing to believe him, what other choice did she have?

“Let’s head back to mine,” the hero wished he’d said that the same way he did in her dreams “are you staying overnight? I have a meeting later with other villain. I can drop you off though, dinner is in the fridge and I’ll be home by 11.” 

Hero got up, Eloise still babbling in her arms. “Sounds good. And, um, thanks. For all of this” she said. The villain had a habit of putting a hand on her back to lead her out, it gave the hero butterflies every time. This time was no exception.

The villain had stayed true to his word, he arrived home to a dark and quiet apartment, locking the door and moving around as quietly as he could. He followed the sounds of Mozart playing through the stereo through the open guest room door, simultaneously taking off his jacket and loosening his tie. Peeking quickly into the bedroom, he saw the hero and Eloise cuddled together on the puffy bed, toys thrown around, and window open allowing the curtains to billow in the wind. As he moved in to close the windows, he stepped on a toy which said a loud 'the cow goes moo' awaking both the hero and Eloise. The hero instinctively grabbed Eloise as she scanned the room for any danger before laying her eyes on the villain. 

“Sorry,” he muttered. Eloise started crying. 

With a sigh that turned into a yawn, the hero got up to turn on the lights and begin to rock Eloise back to sleep. 

“Nice one, Mr. stealthy and secretive villain.” She joked. 

“I’m so sorry.” He repeated. 

“It's my fault for falling asleep before cleaning up.” She said over Eloise’s cries. She held her closer, shushing in-between yawns and bouncing her to no avail. The villain stared guilty at the hero’s dark circles and slumped shoulders. Her eyes were half lidded as she tried her hardest to stay awake. The villain knew anybody outside looking in would immediately label the villain as a deadbeat dad and husband. 

He usually gave the hero the honors of changing, feeding, playing with, and putting Eloise to sleep, preferring to stand on the sidelines and buy diapers or bring the hero bottled milk. Aside from once or twice a week when the hero had stayed at the Hero Dorms to avoid suspicion- where the villain had spent the whole nights awake, anxiously making sure Eloise was still breathing- he hadn’t had much time taking care of Eloise. After a night of keeping the baby alive, the hero had previously asked how the villain's mother took care of him. She seemed oddly excited to hear about villain's upbringing, he wished he could tell her some amazing story about a loving mother and ways he was raised but all that came out was an undignified 'I don't know.' The hero had insisted, leading to the villain acting curt to get her to drop it.

After that, he kept his distance mostly because the hero looked so striking and dooming to the villain as a mother, among other things. The villain wouldn’t be able to disillusion himself if he took on the role of father. Not to mention Eloise was an adorable child. Curious, social and playful; she had won over the villain’s heart. But this won’t last forever, he’d remind himself, don’t let yourself get comfortable. 

“When’s the last time you slept?” he asked.

“Hmm? I was just sleeping.” 

“More than 3 hours?” 

“At a time? Or in one night?” 

The villain sighed at the confirmation of his suspicions. He had definitely gone soft. With the hero being half asleep, it was easy to peel her off and take Eloise into his own arms. 

“Hey-” she reached for the baby. 

“You need the rest- you're saving people for a living, remember? I’ll take her tonight.” 

“Oh. Are you sure?” She lowered her voice, Eloise was finally settling into the villain’s arms, cries subsiding. “She- she might not let you sleep.” 

“Don’t worry about it. Get some rest.” 

“Oh um. Ok. But let me know if you need anything! I’ll leave the door open-'' the villain was at the door frame as the hero scooched herself to the other side of the bed. 

“Yes. Good night.” 

“She likes to use your arm as a pillow! The bed pillows are too puffy for her.”

“Anything else?” he asked sarcastically. 

The hero looked nervous, grabbing a pillow to hug. 

“Uh- no. Sorry. Ya, goodnight.” The villain began to walk to his own bedroom. “Um! You know what? She’ll wake up around 2 anyways! Why don’t I-” hero called out, making her way over. 

“Do you not trust me?” The villain finally asked, as if the hero truly had any reason to trust him. He was a villain, she was a hero. They both seemed to forget. “You always get like this when I take her for the night.” The hero looked mortified. 

“Huh? No! No, that's not it at all, it’s just…” The villain raised an eyebrow. “I just have nightmares without her. I get anxious when I wake up and she’s not there. If something- anything- happens I know I’ll be right there to do something.” She stuttered. The villain only stared indiscernibly. 

“Uh. I’m sorry. You’re right.” She quickly gathered her things. “I should go then, I’ll leave her with you. I’m sorry.” As she walked past the villain he stopped her with a gentle arm on her shoulder. 

“Do you want to sleep with me?” 

The hero short circuited. “That seems inappropriate.” She stared at a sleeping Eloise. The villain, awkward, retracted his hand.  

“No, Hero. As in, do you want to share a bedroom? That way you can sleep soundly 5 feet away from Eloise and I can take care of her through the night.” 

“Oh.” The hero reddened. “Yes. Of course that’s what you meant.” The hero could only hear the villain chuckle in the darkness. “Um. Are you sure? You said you didn’t want any part of this. I’ve thrown way too much on you-” 

“I insist, hero. Takes a village to raise a kid, right? Besides, You desperately need sleep. I planned something big, I need an even bigger, stronger hero to stop it. I need you to be at your peak.” The hero could almost hear his smirk. She practically swooned, glad it was too dark to see much of anything. “Ah. Of course. So this is all self regarded?” 

“Of course.” The hero felt the familiar hand at her back as the villain led her into the bedroom. She quickly took a spot on the left side of the bed and waited for the villain to bring in the crib. By the time Eloise was tucked into it, the hero was fast asleep, covered in blankets and snoring softly. The villain crawled in slowly, finally getting used to the hero’s slow, if not constant, movements beside him before Eloise woke up exactly at 2 am. 

The next morning the villain woke up with dark circles under his eyes- barely rested-, his spit up on shirt across the bedroom floor, and the only thing keeping him warm was the hero's embrace, with her thigh on his stomach and her head on his chest. It was the best night he’d had in years. 

[writing-blog-iguess]

Online Matchup 3

Summery: Y/N just wanted to study and head home for some sleep, to bad the night in Gotham has different plans. Now all they want to do is see the one person who's been on their mind since they started talking. Question is, will Jason agree?

Warning: swearing, fluff, it gets a little angsty, comfort, a sprinkle of gun violence, a mugging.

A/N: I got it done by Friday. I did not think I could do it, but I did. I’m not sure part 4 will be up, but I will be taking the next week to try and finish other projects. If there’s anything you’d like to, let me know. Uh, this ended up being over 6k works, I hope you enjoy! Feedback is welcome.

Words: 6574

ao3

Series master list

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October 7

Y/N (7:30 am) Why is it so cold?

Jason Because it’s october

Y/N October just started! It should be illegal for October to be so cold so soon

Jason You’re the one who wanted to live in Gotham

Y/N I know But still

Jason: You lived in Gotham for how many years?

Y/n … Three

Jason: And you're still not used to the cold? and to think you chose Gotham 

Y/n Shut up

Jason All because Gotham and I quote ~intrigues~ you

Y/n Shouldn’t you be at work?

Jason Shouldn’t you be in class?

Y/n I’m on my way there Why’d you think I’m complaining about the cold?

Jason Could have fooled me Maybe your heater broke in your apartment and it’s freezing

Y/n I would cry if that happened

Jason Don’t like the cold?

Y/n I don’t like getting sick

Jason Touché

Y/n But I also hate the cold

Jason It’s sweater weather

Y/n Still cold

Jason Fall is not cold Winters cold Fall is the perfect season It’s not too cold not to hot Perfect

Y/n Maybe for cuddling under the blanket and read

Jason That an invitation?

Y/n Wouldn’t you like to know

Jason Awe come on, little bird don’t shy on me now It’s been what? Three weeks?

Y/n Yeah But, uh I’m a little nervous It’s been a while since I’ve been on a date or something 

Jason Ah I get that Honestly me too We can wait a bit longer and when we do meet up it’ll been in a public place

Y/n The confidence you have that we will be meeting is showing

Jason What can I say? I’m falling and I can’t get up

Y/n Oh my god You ruined the moment

Jason ‘Twas the plan

Y/n You dork

Jason No but really I really did fall and now my ass hurts

Y/n What do you want me to do about it?

Jason Come kiss it better

Y/n In your dreams

Jason Every night

Y/n I hope you step on a Lego

Jason First my ass and now my heart? Y/n you wound me

Y/n Sure, we’ll pretend your not into it

Jason I- Okay wow

Y/n Am I wrong

Jason I plead the fifth 

Y/n Mm thought so

Jason Shouldn’t you be in class?

Y/N Yup, just waiting for the professor 

Jason Is it true that if the teacher isn’t there after a certain period of time that there’s no class?

Y/n Some people think it is but no They always end up coming to class Unless there’s an attack of the school or something

Jason Does that happen a lot?

Y/n Like maybe every few months Don’t quote me on that, I barely pay attention

Jason I think that’s something you sure pay attention too

Y/n I did when I first moved here and now I just roll with the punches

Jason I really hope not

Y/n Like my guard is up when I’m out but other than that I guess, I don’t care?

Jason That’s even worse

Y/n That’s what my mom said too Oh look, the teach is here

Jason I'm more worried about you then I have worried about someone in my life

Y/n (12:20 pm) Hey You keep up with the news right?

Jason When I have time Why?

Y/n Have you heard anything about college students going missing?

Jason No I don’t think I have

Y/n Mm, not surprised I guess Apparently it’s a recent thing

Jason How recent?

Y/N Um, like a few days ago?

Jason And the cops haven’t done anything about this?

Y/N Nope Said they probably dropped out Some tried to report them as missing But they haven’t looked into it much

Jason How do you know this?

Y/n Rumors mostly Guess that’s why the cops won’t do anything But I don’t think they’re rumors I know some of the students that are missing Most are on the top of their classes Some are scholarship students, they wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize it

Jason Damn My brother’s a cop, I could get him to look into it?

Y/n You’re brothers a cop in Bludhaven What do you think he can do in Gotham?

Jason How do you know that?

Y/N Jason, we’ve been talking for awhile And sometimes when you complain about your brothers, you let information slip past. Not that I mind, everything you tell me I keep to myself But you need to pay more attention to what you’re talking about

Jason Right, sorry I forgot about that

Y/N Have you been sleeping lately?

Jason …no

Y/n Everything okay? Er, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to it’s fine

Jason No it’s okay I want to tell you I just don’t know where to start

Y/n Start wherever, and how much you want to tell me I don’t need the whole picture 

Jason I guess I’ve been having nightmares lately 

Y/n About when you died? Allegedly 

Jason … Don’t know if I should be impressed that that’s where your mind jumps to or not

Y/n It’s a gift

Jason But yeah, that’s what they’re about Someone found me after, and took me in and raised me for a couple of years And then coming going back home It’s a lot I guess Sometimes I feel like I’m broken

Y/n I bet I’m not going to pretend that I know how you feel and I’m not sure what exactly what I can say And I don’t want to invalid your feels, you’re allowed to feel how you feel But you’re not broken, not completely anyways Maybe a little bruised and banged up And like any bruise, they heal with time Sometimes with help sometimes without All depends on if you want it or not

Jason Are you sure you’re not a shrink or something?

Y/N Pretty positive It’s something my mom told me sometimes

Jason Wise women

Y/n You have no idea So, if you ever want to talk, chances are that I’ll be awake at any time

Jason Thank you And as for what Dick could do? Not a whole lot, but he does have friends in the gcpd though

Y/n You think he can do that?

Jason Yeah, he owes me

Y/N He’s your brother Does he have to owe you?

Jason Our relationship is a bit complicated

Y/N You’ve mentioned But if he can do something, that puts my mind at ease a little I’m worried and maybe a little scared

Jason As you should Just be careful okay?

Y/n I will do my best

Y/n (11:30pm) So… Have you heard anything from your brother?

Jason Smooth It hasn’t even been a day

Y/n That’s me The ruler of smooth A lot can happen between now and when you talked to your brother about it

Jason All true you dork And yeah I have Turns out they aren’t just rumours He went to check out the students dorms are they left everything there Usually when someone leaves they bring some clothes and stuff with them right

Y/n Yeah, unless they were in a hurried and couldn’t care less then they would pack important stuff

Jason Yeah but they left everything there Phones, wallets, keys I’m not sure what the connection is and all that But the cops are working hard

Y/n Mm okay At least some things being done about it

Jason Mm

Y/n No sleep tonight?

Jason Not yet Helping my brother with something

Y/n You know, for someone who has a complicated relationship with one’s family You sure do help them a lot 

Jason What can I say? I’m a family man

Y/N Is this your way of saying you love your family?

Jason So how’s your dad doing?

Y/N I cannot believe you pulled the same move I used on you, on me This is a disgrace Unacceptable

Jason I’m just using when you taught me

Y/N I didn’t teach you shit

Jason Well it worked, didn’t it?

Y/n Unbelievable 

Jason Answer the question 

Y/n Okay I guess Tired mostly Says he’s trying to keep busy but my mom tells me he gets tired easily There’s no win win

Jason I’m sorry

Y/n Yup

Jason Still repressing your emotions?

Y/N You know it

Jason I’m here if you want to talk

Y/N Thanks Jason That means a lot

Jason Shouldn’t you be sleeping?

Y/N Yes But I’m currently doing a project that’s due tomorrow

Jason Ouch

Y/N Did you know that the library I’m at is open this late?

Jason Why?

Y/N College students needs books

Jason Yes But you can take them out and bring them home

Y/N I left my library card at home so now I’m stuck here with the book I need until I’m done

Jason See, I want to feel sorry for you But something’s holding me back

Y/N I can see the compassion from here Anyways I should go home soon

—

My phone’s about to die and I don’t have my charger either, you typed out and before you could hit send, you were met with your reflection on a black screen. “No,” you whined, slumping back into your chair. “It’s fine. I’ll just use my laptop, it should work.” 

Sitting up straight, you reached over to wake your computer up, you were met with the same fate as your phone. “No, nonono,” you muttered, frantically searching your backpack for your laptop charger. When you couldn’t find it, you dumped everything on the table, hoping you were just blind. But it wasn’t there.

You groaned when you came to the realization that luck wasn’t on your side tonight. 

Sighing in defeat, you made a note of the books you were using and the pages before cleaning up the table. As you stuffed your backpack with your things, you took a quick glance at the clock on the wall and cursed. If you don't hurry now, you’ll be late for the last train for the night.

If there’s one thing you hated most about Gotham, it was walking home really late at night. And the last you wanted to do was that, also you didn’t want to make Jason worry.

With the rest of your stuff hazardously stuffed into the backpack, you raced out of the library hoping to make the last train.

—

Jason You good? Home yet? Is everything okay? Hellooo? What happened? Are you safe?

—

Nothing. There was no response and when Jason tried to call you, it went straight to voicemail. No matter how many times he called, it always yielded the same result.

Jason is not worried. He knows you're busy with your project. Maybe you misplaced your phone while talking to someone. Or you’re already on your way home and need to concentrate on getting home. He vaguely recalls you saying you take the train to and from school.

Lighting up his phone to check the time, he nodded to himself. Yeah, that was it. You were just busy and on your way home. Jason’s not worried, he’s not.

“You okay there Jay?” Dick asked in concern, “you look a little worried there.”

Okay, so maybe he’s a little worried and maybe a little scared of what could potentially happen. In Gotham…At night.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Jason lied, trying to push images of you hurt away. It didn’t help that there was this group out there kidnapping college students. For what, who knows. Jason only hoped that you didn’t get mixed up in it. 

Dick leaned in front of him and poked Jason’s forehead. “Are you sure? Your brow is pinched like you ate something sour,” he commented and Jason pushed him away with a scowl.

“Maybe he’s worried about his new friend,” Tim sang from the Bat computer. “It’s awfully late for a college student to be out in Gotham.”

Jason whipped his head around so fast, he was surprised he didn’t get whiplash. “How the fuck do you know?! I haven’t told you shit.”

“I’m a detective, Jason, I detect,” Tim pointily said, pressing buttons on the keyboard before a file with pictures of you showed on the screen. “Gotta say, they are kinda cute.”

“Why are you spying on them?” Jason asked, trying to keep his voice even. He was pissed he couldn’t have something in his life to himself. But his nosey siblings had to meddle in his life, love life too. It's like they have no life outside of fighting crime.

“I was bored,” he replied as Dick made his way over to the computer. No doubt curious on what Tim found.

“Don’t you have cases to solve?”

Tim shrugged, clicking through photos of you, which only served to piss Jason off even more. Why is it that he wanted to slowly get to learn more about you, that his brothers decided to do a deep dive without his permission? Times like these made him wish he stayed dead. “Your love life is more interesting at the moment.”

“Well, you can fuck off then,” he said, grabbing his Red Hood helmet from the nearby table and put it on.

“Where are you going?” Dick called over the roar of Jason’s motorcycle.

“Anywhere that’s not here,” he answered and sped off.

He had meant to drive aimlessly, but soon he found his way towards the library you were currently studying in.

He couldn’t get the images of you hurt out of his mind, and he convinced himself that it was fine to make sure you were okay. Otherwise, he’d be drowning in worry.

As he drove, he heard a cry for help. He almost dismissed it, thinking that someone who was on patrol would help them. But with his bike in idle, he heard it. Granted, the last time he heard your voice, you were all nasally with a hoarse voice from a sore throat. But he recognized you’re voice anywhere.

Parking his bike, he unholstered his gun and slowly made his way to the alley that your voice came from. Peeking his head around the corner, he saw you fighting with someone over your backpack. You held your own for a while, and Jason could only wait until there was an opening.

Was there a little part of him that wanted to see you fight? Maybe. but he doesn’t want to think about that now.

“Let go you asshole,” you grunted, pulling your backpack hard enough that the mugger tripped forward. Which gave you the time to kick him in the balls, hard. Jason winced at the impact and the mugger staggered backwards with a groan and you successfully gained back your bag. “Ha!”

“You bitch!” he yelled and lunged towards you. But before either of you could do anything, Jason surged forward and shot him in the leg. The both of you screamed, you at the sudden noise and the mugger at the pain. Without looking to see who was there, you ducked behind a dumpster, out of harms way.

Clever Little Bird, Jason thought as he stalked towards his prey. “Your mom ever teach you manners?” Jason asked. The mugger shook his head and begged Jason not to kill him. Jason was tempted too, but an annoying voice in the back of his mind, who sounded suspiciously like Bruce, whispered, don’t kill.

“Nah, I’m not gonna kill ya,” he grumbled and waved him away with his gun. “But if I see ya again, I ain’t making any promises.” He took it as it was, and limped away as fast as he could. Jason watched as he disappeared before holstering his gun and turned around towards you with a frown. You were curled in on yourself, hugging your bag tight.

“Hey,” he said softly, reaching out to tap you on your shoulders. With no warning, you quickly spun around and hit him with your bag. He winced as it collided with his chest, surprising him.

“Oh my god!” you exclaimed once you realized who he was. You dropped your arms from the next attack Jason had no doubt would have followed through. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t realize it was you.”

“What are you packing in there?” he grunted as he rubbed his chest, “fucking bricks?”

“Textbooks,” you answered sheepishly, hugging your backpack to your chest. “I’m really sorry I thought you were someone else.”

“No worries, I ain’t mad,” he said with a smile. Though you couldn’t see it given the helmet. “Hellva reflex though. Not many would fight back.”

You shrugged, tightening your grip on the backpack. The adrenaline must be wearing off, Jason noted. You were starting to shake. “What can I say? My flight or fight kicked in and there was nowhere to run.”

“Still,” he said, taking the moment to study you, and wishing he had shot the punk when he clocked the bruise forming under your eye. Other than that, there was nothing of note to worry about. Physically at least. Emotionally, he had no idea where your mind was at. “Are you doing okay?”

“Uh maybe?” you said, unsure yourself. You took a deep breath to calm yourself but it came out shakily. “I don’t know. I will be, once I’m home though.”

“Need a lift?” Jason offered, catching you by surprise.  You lifted your head to look at him, eyes narrowed. As if you were trying to see under the helmet. He stood there and waited. Eventually, you shook your head. Disappointment filtered through Jason but he pushed it down.

“Thanks, but I’m just down the street. Don’t think anything else can happen between here and there,” you said and Jason’s heart leaped at all the possibilities of what could happen.

“You’re gonna jinx yourself if you keep saying stuff like that,” he pointed out. You only shrugged and gave him a smile that made his heart skip a beat.

“I’m sure an angel is looking out for me,” you said, getting enough courage to pat him on the chest as you walked past him. “Be seeing ya, Red.”

Jason stood there for a moment and shook his head with a smile. You sure were something else. Though it was a short distance to your place, it didn’t stop Red Hood from following you until you made it to your apartment. Even then, he stayed on the roof adjacent to your building, waiting for your message saying you were okay.

You stood in front of your apartment door, keys in hand and frowned. With the adrenaline completely out of your system, and finally being alone, your mind raced with the events that transpired over the last couple of hours.

You had managed to make the last train and the journey was uneventful. It wasn’t until the walk home that your luck turned bad.

You were so focused on getting home that you didn’t notice the guy following you until he grabbed your backpack. You fought, Red Hood showered up surprising you and talked before going home.

You blinked at the memory. If you weren’t so in your head, you’d be giddy that you actually talked to Red Hood. You talked to Red Hood. What the fuck? You’re not even sure if you flirted with him near the end or not. But you were still processing everything.

You shook your head, trying to get out of it. You didn’t want to go inside. Going inside meant being alone, alone with your thoughts and that’s the last thing you wanted.

What you wanted was company, what you wanted was someone you haven’t even met yet, yet you knew you’d feel better after seeing him. You wondered if you called Jason, if he would pick up and ask to meet up. It couldn’t hurt to try.

With a half-baked plan, you finally unlocked the door. The first thing you do is plug in your phone, the second is to shower.

You wanted it to be quick, the faster you're done the faster you can leave the apartment. But you’re not sure what happened between grabbing your clothes and now. You just know that when you come to, your hair is wet and dressed in your comfortable clothes, and you find yourself standing in front of the mirror.

You feel better, if only a little.  You wince at the bruise and you could cover it up, but you’re tired and you don’t want to stay here any longer than you already have. Instead, you bushed your hair and leave the bathroom.

With your phone half charged, you grab it and your keys and wallet before leaving the apartment. As you walk towards the elevator, you open up your phone to see a few missed calls from your sister and Jason, and some texts from Jason asking if you’re okay. You made a note to call your sister in the morning and tried to ignore the guilt at seeing the messages from Jason. You pressed the button for the elevator, your thumb hovering over Jason’s name.

Maybe calling him will be a mistake, Despair whispered in your ear.

Or, maybe it’ll be the best thing in the world and you won’t regret it, Desire countered. And hope bloomed a little in your chest. With that, you pressed the call button without much thought and brought the phone to your ear.

One ring, you step in the elevator as you begin to second guess yourself that this was a bad idea. Second ring, you press the button for the lobby, starting to panic. Maybe he won’t pick up. Half of you hoped. By the third ring, you're off the elevator and almost hung up when the call connects.

“Little Bird?” Jason answered, and the grip on the phone tightened. You really didn’t think he’d pick up, and he doesn’t sound tired. For how late it is, anyways. If anything, he sounds awake, like he was waiting for something.

Guilt rears back into your stomach again when you realize he was waiting for you. Tears start to pool in the corner of your eyes, and you blink them away. You didn’t want to cry, that was for later, when you're curled up in a ball in bed. Waiting for sleep that you know will never come.

“Hey, you still there?” Jason asked, voice soft as if he knew that’s what you needed right now. Your heart warms at the person you’re slowly falling for. You clear your throat and hope your voice sounds normal when you answer.

“Hi,” your answer is a whisper, and you find yourself you don’t care.

“Hi,” he greeted back and you could hear the smile in his voice. “I’m surprised you're still awake. Figured you’d be in bed by now.”

"Yeah, me too. But I’m too wired to sleep,” you said, forcing your feet to move. You start walking out of the building and towards your favourite café that’s near your place. “Surprised you’re awake too. Still helping your brother?”

You’re so engrossed with your conversation, that you don’t feel eyes on you as you walk. And Jason hoped to keep it that way. “Nah, doing my own thing before going to bed. Surprised you called though. Usually, you shoot me a message.”

You stall for a moment, almost tripping on your feet, before walking again. “Er, yeah. Sorry I just…I don’t know.”

“You don’t have to say sorry. I don’t mind talking either. Besides, you've voice is music to my ears," Jason said, and you try not the blush with how casual he says things like that. "So, what’s up?”

You’re quiet for a second, chewing on your lip before blurting out the question, “do you want to meet up?”

You’re met with and you close your eyes at your stupidity. “Sorry,” you started, “that was stupid. You don’t have to if you don’t want to, I get it. It’s fine. Plus, it’s super late, like two in the morning late. And we should be sleeping but the thought of being alone right now scares me. And I don’t want to be alone and I just really need some company. And I thought why not Jason? I wanted to meet him for awhile and I’ve now realized it was bad timing and-”

“Are you sure?” Jason interrupted your rambling and you couldn’t be more thankful. You were positive you would big yourself in a hole you couldn’t get out of if you kept talking.

“Sure about what?” you asked dumbly, as if you forgot what you had just asked him. You’ve reached the café and stood in front of the door, peering in.

“That you want to meet up,” Jason said with a chuckle.

“Oh, uh yeah, I am sure,” you said with a nod. “I mean if that’s okay with you?”

“Sure is,” he said, “can I ask what brought this on?”

You're silent for a moment, debating whether to answer him or wait until he’s here to say. But you think of the bruise under your eye and you think it’s better to tell him now. “I, um, almost got mugged on my way home. He didn’t get my stuff, but he did clock me in the face. Could be worse though, but I don’t want to be alone right now.”

“Shit,” he breathed out, “are you okay?”

“Sorry,” you mumbled to the couple coming out of the café and stepped aside to let them go. You shrug even though he couldn’t see you. “Like I said, it could be worse.”

“Don’t. Don’t downplay what happened to you,” Jason said softly, “anyone would be shaken up after a mugging. You’re allowed to not be okay, sweetheart.”

The simple sentence is what breaks you, and you start letting the tears fall down your cheeks. “Damnit,” you mumbled, wiping your eyes with the sleeve of your sweater. “Have me crying in public Jason, not cool.”

“Sorry sweetie. Where are you? I’ll get there as soon as I can.” You rattle where you are and you can feel Jason’s smile through the phone. “I know the place. Order me a hot chocolate and I’ll be there in twenty.”

“Try not to break any laws now, Jason,” you muttered, though you smile all the same. Knowing you’ll meet Jason soon has you in better spirits since the incident happened.

“No promises.” With that, you hang up and walk into the building. You tell the barista your fine when she asks about the bruise and order your usual and Jason’s drink with a cake and find an empty table. You find yourself in the corner by a window, making your way over and you set your order down and sit facing the door.

You’re scrolling through your phone while you wait, trying to keep yourself distracted. And it helped with Jason texting you updates on what’s happening. You find it endearing, and a little silly, but it keeps you from spiraling and you're thankful.

Before you know it, you hear a roar of a motorcycle driving past, and you look up just in time to see them part in front of the building. You watch as they turn off the bike and climb off before taking the helmet off.

Breath escapes you as you recognize who it is, and pictures didn’t do Jason justice. Jason’s pretty, and you like the little white strip he has in his hair. It suits him, somehow.

Lifting your phone, you take a picture of him fluffing out his hair and type out a message saying you see him before sending it to him. You watch as he takes out his phone, frowning a little at the message. He whipped his head up and scanned the building until his eyes landed on you. All you can do is wave, and your heart almost leaps out of your chest at the smile he gives you.

It's brighter than you imagined and you're okay with it. Your eyes follow him as he makes his way inside. You stand when he makes his way towards you and you smile as he stands in front of you.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

There’s a moment of silence between the two of you before you start to laugh. Not a full belly laugh, just a light chuckle as if someone told you a joke. You’re not sure why you find the whole thing funny, but you do. Maybe you're too tired to fully process it completely.

“Are you okay?” Jason asked, a little worried. He took a step forward, arms moving to give you a hug, but stopped himself. Worried that you wouldn’t appreciate the gesture, scared that you might reject his touch. Your heart warms at the hesitation and you make the decision for him. Stepping forward, you wrap your arms around him and practically met into his chest.

After a moment of hesitation, Jason wraps his arms around you, hugging you tight. It's one of the best hugs you’ve ever had, and you can't seem to remember the last time someone hugged you that wasn’t family.

“I am now,” you whispered, blinking away more tears. “Sorry if this first meeting isn’t exactly to your expectations.”

“Nah, I wouldn’t change this for the world,” he said, leaning back a little. Snaking one hand to your chin, he gently lifted your face to look at you. He hissed a little at the bruising and you can’t seem to find yourself to be embarrassed about. Not with the look Jason’s giving you, like you’re the only person who matters to him.

“That’s good,” you mumbled, blushing a little with the attention he was giving you. You pull away a little, only to pull him to sit down. Your feet started to hurt and you needed to let them rest. Sitting across from him, you wrap your hands around your cup and let the heat seep into them. “You know, I almost didn’t call. Was too afraid you’d say no or something.”

Jason leaned over a bit and took off his jacket and you tried to not openly stare at his arms.

“Don’t think I could say no to you,” Jason said, taking a sip from his drink as you averted your gaze to his face. “But I’m glad you called, I was trying to work up the nerve to ask you to a coffee date or something. Something always stopped me though.”

“Well, we’re here now,” you pointed out, leaning over the table with a smile. “Nothing we can do but move forward.”

“Wise words coming from a lady who thought I was asking for a booty call,” Jason said with a smirk. You gasped at the reminder, and reached over to pull the plate of cake you had bought to share with him.

“You know, just for that, I’m not sharing this with you,” you said, and moved the plate closer when Jason moved to grab it.

“Now that’s not fair, Little Bird. It’s been a tough night dealing with my brothers all night, I need a little pick me up,” he said, trying to grab the plate from you again. You moved it just before he could grab it, and stuck your nose in the air.

“Guess you should have thought about that before insulting me, good sir.” Jason snorted, mock surrendering. You giggled and moved the plate back to the middle. “How was your night? Anything interesting happen?”

“Nah, not really. Turned out he didn’t really need my help, just said that to rope me in for family supper,” Jason answered, picking up the fork and stabbing a piece of cake before eating it.

“If you’re gonna be mean to the cake, I won’t share,” you threatened, trying not to smile when he gave you a look. “Family dinner huh? Can’t be all that bad.”

“It’s not,” Jason hummed, “I get to eat Alfred’s cooking and there are some siblings I don’t mind hanging out with. It can be too much sometimes, you know? Like they lived their lives while I was somewhere out there being raised by different people, you know?”

“Mm not really but I can imagine,” you said, smiling when he snorted. “But they’re trying, that’s all you can ask for. Question is though, are you trying?”

Jason shifted as you stared at him with raised eyebrows. “What is this? An interrogation?”

“Can be if you want it to be,” you quipped back. Following his lead as he leaned forward.

“If anyone’s gonna do the questioning, it’s gonna be me.”

“You think so?”

“I know so, Little Bird.”

The two of you stare at each other, waiting to see who cracks first at the challenge. You blink and you know you’ve lost. “Yeah okay. But you didn’t answer my question,” you reminded him, leaning back.

“Yeah I’m trying, just hard,” he answered and he took a moment to study you. “Are you doing okay? Not to be rude, but you look exhausted.”

You snort and rub your eyes only to wince when you touch the bruise. “I don’t know. I haven’t really had time to process everything properly.”

“How’d you mean?”

“Like I didn’t sit down and cry about it yet. When I got home all I wanted to do was leave. But I forced myself to shower but I think I blacked out or something, I don’t know. I don’t remember it. After that, I left my apartment as fast as I could and called you.”

“Which I’m glad you did, but now you have to take a moment and let it sink in. You can take it now, let yourself not be okay, I won’t judge. Hell, I’m probably the last person to judge.”

You gave him a sad smile and slowly slumping down into your seat, trying to hide from the mostly empty café. As if sensing what you’re trying to do, Jason gets up and moves to sit beside you, angling his body so you’re hidden from view.

A wave of fondness washes over you, and you think he can’t surprise you anymore then he already has. Taking a deep breath, you slowly let it out and close your eyes. Listening to Jason and let yourself not be okay.

The night plays like a movie behind your eyelids and you fight to keep it playing. You  feel all the emotions that you managed to push away hit you like a truck, making you tear up. You cover your eyes with your arm and feel movement from beside you.

But you're too embarrassed to look, so you wait until Jason’s right beside you.

“I’m going to hug you okay?” You hear Jason whisper close to your ear. You nod and almost flinch when his arms snake around your waist, but you don’t. This touch is warm, caring. The complete opposite of the mugger. You feel safe for the first time that night.

You relaxed in Jason’s embrace and balled your firsts in his shirt as you cried. He sat there, rubbing your side, whispering that you’re okay, that it will be okay, and waited until you were done. 

You sniffle when the sob has subsided but you don’t let go just yet. You’re exhausted, embarrassed that you ended up crying on Jason, and you're not yet ready to face him.

“You’re okay,” Jason murmured, squeezing you reassuringly. You only nod, moving slightly to wipe your nose with your sleeve. But as you move to do that, there’s a napkin in front of you.

“Thanks,” you muttered, taking it and blowing your nose.

“Feeling better?” Jason asked, moving slightly but he kept you in his hold. And you're grateful for it. His touch was something you could get used to.

“Yeah, much. I think I could sleep forever,” you joked, leaning into him you felt his chuckle more then heard it.

“Please don’t, I enjoy your company,” he said and you smiled. “I hope you feel the same.”

“I do,” you hummed, “I’m sorry for crying all over you. I think I got your shirt all wet and snotty.”

“Nothing to be sorry for. It was something you needed and I’ll gladly be your shoulder to cry on.”

Silence settled between you, and you closed your eyes feeling the need to sleep. The two of you stayed like that until Jason could feel your body relax into sleeping.

“Come on, I think it’s time for you to go home,” Jason stated, shaking you a little to keep you awake.

“Noooo,” you whined, pouting as you sat up slowly. “But I’m having a great time.”

“You need sleep,” Jason pointed out, collecting your garbage and standing to throw it out. When he came back, he put on his jacket and smirked as you stared. “We can always hang out another time. Maybe next time it won’t happen at three in the morning.”

“Promise?”

“Promise,” he answered, holding out his hand. You blinked at it before grabbing it and he helped you up. “Come on, I’ll walk you home.”

“You don’t have to have,” you said, quick to shake your head.

“Please? For my peace of mind,” Jason said as he walked the both of you out. “Plus it prolongs the time I get to spend time with you.”

Opening your mouth to argue, you stop yourself and feel the blush creeping into your cheeks. “Fine,” you agreed begrudgingly, though glad for the company.

The walk was short, you spent the time talking about anything that came to mind. And before you knew it you were standing in front of your door. Jason had insisted on walking you up, to make sure you didn’t trip on anything. He had claimed and you didn’t seem to mind.

You have thought about inviting him in, but sleep was calling you and you didn’t want to seem too eager.

“So this is me,” you said awkwardly, unsure how to say goodnight.

“I had a good time,” he said, smiling. You squinted up at him, only now realizing how tall he was. 

“I ended up crying.”

“You had a bad night, you deserved to cry after what happened to you,” he countered. “Like I said, I’m the last person to judge.” 

“I’m going to get that story one day,” you challenged, and he leaned down a little, smirking. Cocky bastard.

“I’m looking forward to it,” he said, and you gently punched him in the chest with a laugh.

“Text me when you get home?”

“Awe, you worried about me,” he teased. You rolled your eyes as you took your keys out and unlocked the door.

“I can unworry about you,” you said, swinging the door open. Before going in, you turned and gave him a hug, squeezing tight. “Thanks, for you know.”

Jason returned the hug and buried his nose in your hair. “Anytime. Glad you're feeling better.”

You stay like that for a moment before Jason lets you go. He cupped your cheeks and for a brief moment, you thought he might kiss you.

“Night Little Bird, see you soon.”

With that, he turned and walked down the hallway, leaving you feeling warm inside.

Walking in, you unlocked the door and immediately plopped into your bed, letting your body relax. Sleep pulled at you but you were determined to stay awake until Jason texted.

But sleep was just as determined and stronger, you fell asleep just as your phone chimed.

Jason I’m home