#a d now waiting to be us who will be called there

[silver-the-pendejo]

A Love, Transformed

Wild (Linked Universe) x Fiance!Reader Hurt no Comfort Reader uses They/Them pronouns Dedicated to: @cloudninetonine (im traumatizing ur wife again cloud :D) Words: 1472

Wild wouldn’t show it, but he was relieved to be back in his Hyrule.

It had been months since the last time a portal had sent the Chain here, dragging him away on another adventure that had no end in sight. He was used to it—being bound by the duty to this land, having him ripped away from his home one too many times before that he’d learned to bury the frustration deep within him. But this time had been different. This time, he had left something precious behind.

His fiancée. His Y/N.

The thought of them had carried him through this journey, through the cold and the exhaustion and the ache of always moving forward, trying to kill the shadow. But now, finally, he was home.

They would be waiting for him. The mere thought sent warmth curling through his chest, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he allowed himself to hope.

Until they got to the currently being rebuilt Castle Town.

Wild was glad to hear the familiar hum of life that it was starting to become of Castle Town—the chatter of merchants calling out their wares, the rhythmic pounding of hammers as the buildings were rebuilt, the laughter of children weaving through the streets. They were still recovering from the Calamity, but there was hope here.

And that meant Y/N would be here too.

But something was wrong.

The stares came first.

People noticed him—recognized him—but instead of relief, their gazes were weighted with something else. Pity.

A tight knot formed in Wild’s stomach. His steps slowed as whispers began to fill the air around him. He couldn’t make out the words, but he didn’t need to. The way people averted their eyes, the way some pressed their lips together in hesitation—he’d seen it before. Felt it before.

He heard Twilight shift beside him, felt Time’s hand land heavily on his shoulder. The old man had clearly noticed, too.

“Wild,” Time said, voice calm but firm. “Let’s find someone who can explain.”

Wild swallowed down the sudden dryness in his throat. He didn’t want to ask. He didn’t want to know. But fear, sharp and cold, dug into his ribs and forced his legs to move.

Where was Y/N?

They should have been here. Their Purah Pad should have alerted them of his presence.The moment he stepped foot into Castle Town, they should have come running, throwing themselves into his arms like they always did. They promised they’d wait for him.

The fear inside him curdled into something sharp. He turned on his heel, pushing past the merchants and townsfolk who looked at him with quiet sorrow.

Someone had answers. And if they wouldn’t give them to him, he would find them himself.

His feet carried him to the research district before he realized it. If anyone could explain, it would be Purah. Or Zelda. Zelda would know.

“Move,” he barked when someone stepped in his way, too impatient to be polite. The Chain was behind him, their voices murmuring, but he ignored them. The only thing that mattered was finding the truth.

The entrance to the research lab that had been built in Castle Town loomed ahead. He barely slowed before shoving the door open.

The smell of ink, parchment, and ancient technology filled his nose, but he paid no mind. His gaze swept the room, landing on a familiar figure hunched over a cluttered table.

“Purah.” His voice came out hoarse.

The Sheikah woman stiffened, then slowly turned. The moment her eyes landed on him, she stilled.

That was all it took.

Wild didn’t even need her to say anything. The exhaustion in her face, the deep sorrow behind her sharp eyes—he knew.

His chest constricted. “Where’s Y/N?”

Purah inhaled deeply, setting down her pen. “Link…”

His heart pounded. No. No, just tell me they’re safe. Tell me I’m overreacting.

He shook his head, stepping forward. “Where are they?”

Purah sighed, rubbing her temple. She hesitated. Why was she hesitating?

“Link, I… I’m so sorry.”

The words sent ice down his spine.

“What?” His voice cracked.

Purah finally met his gaze, and for the first time, he saw it. Grief.

“They’re gone, Link.”

His stomach dropped.

No. No, that wasn’t—he had just—he was supposed to come back to them.

Purah swallowed hard, voice unsteady. “We don’t know what happened exactly but, suddenl’y I couldn’t find Mineru’s secret stone, and Y/N suddenly was to busy to hang out with any of us, 

Purah swallowed hard, voice unsteady. “We don’t know what happened exactly, but suddenly I couldn’t find Mineru’s Secret Stone… and Y/N was gone.”

The world tilted.

Wild took a step forward, shaking his head violently. “No. No, that’s not—what are you saying?”

Purah exhaled shakily, forcing herself to meet his eyes. “We think… we think they swallowed the stone, Link.”

The floor might as well have disappeared beneath him.

He couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. The words barely registered in his mind, bouncing around like meaningless noise—because they couldn’t be real. They couldn’t be real.

Swallowed a Secret Stone? His Y/N?

That was impossible. That was insane.

“That doesn’t make sense,” he choked out. His fingers clenched into fists. “Why—why would they do that? They wouldn’t do that!”

Purah’s expression twisted, grief etching itself deeper into her face. “We don’t know the full story,” she admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “But Zelda… she was the last person to see them before it happened. She tried to stop them.”

Wild swayed on his feet. His stomach churned, bile rising in his throat. “Where is she?”

Purah hesitated, but before she could answer, a new voice broke through the suffocating silence.

“I’m here.”

Zelda stood in the stairway of the lab that led to the second floor, her hands trembling at her sides. She looked exhausted—like she hadn’t slept in weeks. Like she had spent every moment since his last visit looking for something to fix.

Wild turned to her sharply, the lump in his throat threatening to choke him. “Tell me she’s lying,” he rasped. “Tell me this isn’t real.”

Zelda’s eyes glistened, and she stepped forward slowly, cautiously, as if he might shatter with the wrong word. “I wish I could.”

The air was sucked from his lungs.

Zelda swallowed hard, clasping her hands together like she was trying to keep herself steady. “It was an illness, Link.” Her voice trembled, raw with grief. “A rare, terrible sickness. One that not even the best Zora healer’s could cure.”

Wild felt his pulse pound against his ribs, each beat hammering at the fragile hope clinging to his chest.

“They were fine before I left,” he rasped. “They were healthy—”

“It came out of nowhere,” Zelda interrupted, voice thick with emotion. “One day, they were fine. The next… they couldn’t even stand without help.”

Wild shook his head violently. No. No, that couldn’t be true. Y/N was strong. Resilient. They had fought beside him, survived through thick and thin. Something like this—it shouldn’t have been able to touch them.

But Zelda’s expression—haunted and weary—told him everything.

“It got worse,” she continued, her voice unsteady. “No matter what we did, it only kept progressing. We tried everything, Link. Every remedy, every ancient medicine, every ancient text we could find.” Her hands clenched at her sides. “Nothing worked.”

Wild’s breath came in short, shallow bursts. His mind was racing, screaming at him to fix it, to rewind time, to do anything but stand here and listen to the truth he had been too late to stop.

He shook his head. “Why the stone?” he croaked.

Zelda’s face crumpled.

“They didn’t want to die,” she whispered. “And the stone… it was the only thing left.”

Wild staggered, like she had struck him across the face.

“They held on as long as they could,” Zelda continued, eyes shining with unshed tears. “But we were running out of time. And when they realized there was no other way…” She swallowed. “They made a choice.”

Wild’s vision blurred. He shook his head, chest tightening until he couldn’t breathe.

His Y/N. His light, his love, his home—

Gone.

No.

Not gone.

Not dead.

Just—

Something else.

Something eternal.

The realization slammed into him like a thunderclap.

Zelda inhaled shakily. “I saw them, Link.”

His head snapped up.

She met his gaze, steady and unyielding. “I may be crazy but… they looked happier as a dragon.”

A suffocating silence filled the room.

The words echoed in his mind, over and over, like a blade twisting in his chest.

The dragon.

His dragon.

His Y/N.

The breath left his lungs in a sharp, broken exhale.

And then, without another word, he turned and ran, ignoring the call’s of his brother’s and friends.

Just me traumatizing Wild again. Anyways ty all for reading, request and ask's are open as always, byeee

LU Masterlist

[srabaskerville]

3 days to vacation, no more kids at school, just a easy time to clean and prepare activities, everyone is happy and doing good.. then they fired 3 people in 2 hours and now everyone is tense and sad and worried and I hate my job again

[crossbackpoke-check]

Dysprosium, Mary Soon Lee

dysprosium, AN 66, is a silvery-white rare earth metal. its name is derived from the greek dysprositos, meaning “hard to get at”, owing to the difficulty in separating and isolating this rare earth element. dysprosium is used to measure neutron flux, to fuel reactors, and to activate phosphors. terfenol-d is a magnetorestrictive alloy, meaning that it changes shape when a magnetic field is applied, and is used to manufacture underwater acoustic systems.

jason “robo” robertson, dallas stars #21 for @simmyfrobby’s nhl periodic table poems <3

[hauntingblue]

ENIES LOBBY TIME!!!

Sanji's face here.... he Knows he is going to fuck him up

THAT IS SANJI??? 😨

Holding them in my hands again....

Sanji struck a nerve there akdjaoajkq

Increible trio btw.... look at the evidence

............ me next please 🙏🏻

That is love right there I can see it

What if we all killed ourselves (except usopp is telling her the opposite ajahkdhsakjd)

I need sanji to go insane like this more often.... after the timeskip it doesn't happen as much and I love to see him suffering

This is so funny.... there is no denying to her face card

"It's not like she actually wants to die" well yes she does, but no because you know she doesn't really. It is in a quantum state right now

Luffy is such a menace akdhaksjkaak

TELL EM!!!! THAT'S MY GIRL!!!!

Look at franky worrying about robin.... do not fret luffy is coming and he will NOT lose!!!!!

This is zoro remarking how usopps fear of being left behind makes no sense.... this is so good.....

This is so endearing but it also breaks my heart....

Who is that sultry binch... (I don't recall this attack AT ALL and i'm sure we never see it again)

They botched his bbl.... 😔😔😔

Luffy's face here... he was convinced she wanted to go with them but was compelled to do otherwise but no.... he thought wrong and he can't fight to her.... I've just been staring at this page for minutes like damn.

Nevermind.... this is something your mother would say "you want to die??? Just wash the dishes and you can do whatever you want later"

"If you wanna die, or whatever...." this is so good like he knows what he is doing.... he Knows.... look at her face. After knowing how luffy and ace were as kids this just makes more sense (oda didn't think about this i'm sure but damn does it fit) also the slight manipulation.... look at all of us we're already here and look how we all miss you already... you know that post about luffy being selfish but his selfishness is jusg kindness to others... yesh

Thinking about robin's cinderella lifestyle.... why did her mother leave her with that aunt and why didn't some archeologist take her in?? Because she doesn't complain about anything just like she doesn't respond when that mother accused her of hitting her child without reason... that's so fucked

Alright this is funny (and also true)... I'm sorry fellow women....

*Justin Bieber voice* I like your laugh... dereishi shishishi

SHE'S GONNA ASK HER MOM TO TAKE HER TO THE SEA WITH HER??? LIKE SHE DOES AFTER WITH LUFFY??? MY GOD!!! I just bursted into tears like I got punched in the nose I can't keep going ajdhakajk

I lied i can keep going... but head in my hands over this....

Find out how my emotional stability survives this arc in ennies lobby part 2. coming soon

[bi-writes]

Thinking about going into labor while your partner is on the way somewhere unimportant, who refuses to come home to help you. And instead of being alone and scared, you hang up and call up one of your childhood friends everyone thought you'd wind up with. Kyle shows up at your door, furious but does his best to hide it, and helps you through it all. Next day the father of your child has the audacity to show up like nothing is wrong to see Kyle holding your baby so you can take a well deserved nap.

he picks up on the third ring. you tremble, gripping the edge of the porcelain tub. when you finally hear his voice, just the sound of him soothes your beating heart, just a little.

"'ello, love."

"kyle?" you sniffle. his background quiets a bit. you hear a door close, and then he's a bit louder.

"hey, love. what's wrong? you sound upset."

"my water broke," you hiccup. "a-and i...i was in the bath...i-i..." you close your eyes. "i can't get out of the tub."

"jesus fucking christ." you whimper, but kyle just hums. "not you, baby. hey, you just relax, alright? you said you were in the bath. just relax, and i'll be there soon."

"kyle--"

"don't be scared," kyle chuckles, and you whine a little. "hey, you're gonna have a baby. you've been waiting for this, yeah? haven't you?"

"y-yeah..."

"aren't you excited? you always tell me how much you can't wait, right?"

"yeah..."

"don't be scared," kyle repeats. "you just relax. be happy. she's coming today!"

you smile, wiping your face a little, and when kyle hears your giggle, he sighs.

"good girl. you sit tight."

so you do. you lean against the side of the tub, and you rest in the warm water as you stare at your phone screen.

he won't answer the phone. he hasn't read your texts. he's not coming.

you hear the front door open and close, and then there's a gentle knock on the bathroom door. when kyle comes in, you try to cover up, moving your hands over your tits, embarrassed, but kyle just goes to look for a clean towel to help you out.

"it's okay, love, i won't look," kyle tells you. he smiles at you, cupping your face gently, and you look into his dark eyes. "you look so pretty. you're glowin', y'know that?" you smile through gentle tears, putting a hand over your belly, and you try to move, but it's no use. kyle drops the towel, kneeling, and you shake your head.

"i-i can't get out--" you gasp, and kyle rolls up his sleeves over his thick forearms, putting the towel over his shoulder before he reaches for you.

"it's alright. i'll get you out. i'll try not to look, okay?"

"i'm so embarrassed...i'm so sorry, kyle..." you sniffle.

"don't apologize, love. i got it. give me your hands, put 'em around me."

you lift up your wet arms, wrapping them around his neck. you press your chest against his, and he picks you up as you stand, helping you to your feet. as you cup your belly, he wraps the towel around you, covering you, and then he holds your hand as you step out of the tub.

"alright. now where's your bag, darling?"

kyle grabs your bag and supplies as you get dressed in your room. as you pull your socks on, kyle comes up behind you, smoothing your hair down your back before he starts to braid it. he used to braid your hair all the time when you were kids--he always said he wanted to practice for his sisters.

"you got the car seat, kyle?" you ask as he holds your hand, and he nods.

"mhm. in the car already."

"a-and the diaper bag?"

"in the boot."

"my extra clothes? and my...my stuff?"

"mhm. i got it, love. and whatever you forgot, i'll get it for you. alright, up, buckle in, that's a girl."

he holds your hand the entire way. you groan softly when a particularly painful contraction hits you, but when you squeeze kyle's hand, all he does is squeeze back. you take deep breaths, leaning your head back, and he hums.

"you're doing so well, love. so well."

"why..." your eyes water. you squeeze his hand again, and when you look down, your vision is blurry from your tears. "why didn't he answer? w-why...why doesn't he...w-why would he..."

"don't worry your pretty head about tha', love," kyle interrupts you gently. "only thing you need to worry about is you and her. i got it."

"o-okay."

she's beautiful. she looks more like you than her father, and kyle counts that blessing. she's got your eyes, your nose, your hair. her cheeks belong to her father, but she might as well be your twin, and when kyle takes her from you later that night, rocking her gently, he can really see up close how much she looks like you.

in the middle of the night, kyle holds your hand as you get up to go to the bathroom. your entire body is tender and sluggish, but kyle keeps you upright as you walk, kissing your head gently as he helps you take a seat on the toilet.

he even gets your underwear set up for you, with the big pad and everything, and he helps you step into it and slips them up and over your hips. you're a tearful mess as he does this, but kyle just presses his forehead against yours.

the look in his eyes, you will never forget it. the intensity. the commitment. the stability. every time you pick up the phone, kyle answers, and sometimes he's thousands of miles away. your own boyfriend can't even have the decency to answer when you're nine months pregnant--what did he fucking think the call was going to be about?

back in your room, kyle fits into the bed with you. he lets your rest your head on his chest, and when you ask him if he's going to go home, he tells you this is close enough.

in the morning, kyle's sitting outside your room with the baby. he's holding her, touching her little nose, letting you sleep in. you had a rough night, and when he found you still with your eyes closed that morning, he figured he would let you keep sleeping, just for an extra hour or so.

you deserve it.

"is that her?"

kyle's head turns with a snap. standing there, hands shoved deep in his pockets, is your pathetic excuse of a boyfriend. not man enough to answer the phone when you most needed him, not strong enough to do the right thing and marry you, and not wise enough to realize all he had to do was take care of you, and the world would be right again. you're not greedy. you don't ask for anything. all you want is to love and be loved, and kyle doesn't think that's too much to ask for, kyle thinks you're one of the most selfless women he's ever known, so why does this fucking bastard of a man get to call himself this girl's father?

kyle looks back down, fixing the blanket over your daughter's neck carefully. he thinks he did pretty good swaddling her this time, but you might have an opinion on it.

"i'm gonna say somethin', mate," kyle says lowly. "'n after i say it, y'r gonna do some thinking, real thinking."

he laughs a little, shaking his head.

"why don't you give me my baby, and get the fuck outta 'ere?"

kyle looks up and snickers, shaking his head. he gets a better grip on your daughter, sitting back, and he fixes your ex with a sinister smile.

"and what if i don't? you gonna take her from me?" kyle chuckles. "i'd love to see you try."

he stands, raising a brow.

"listen here, and listen close." kyle takes a step closer to him. "you're a right pile of shit comin' here thinking that you can just waltz right in and be daddy of the year, alright? what kind of man are you, eh? your girl in need, callin' you, and you don't even have the fuckin' balls to answer her? take a good look at your kid, mate, cause it's the last time you're ever gonna see her."

"no, i have the right--"

"to fuck right off," kyle snaps. "if i see you near her or her daughter ever again, i'll find you, and i'll make it worth your while, mate. make you feel real sorry finally, y'hear me? 'n when i take her back home, all of your junk better be out the flat. otherwise, i'll fucking burn it."

"kyle?"

your voice pulls him away. kyle adjusts the baby in his arm, going back inside, and he shuts the door behind him, finding your eyes. you reach for the baby, arms outstretched, and kyle easily sets her down in them, watching as you cradle the tiny thing into the crook of your neck and stroke the back of her neck.

the nurses come in and drop off a few papers. one stops, looking at kyle, giving him a big smile.

"congratulations," she tells him, and he smiles back at her. she takes a seat next to him, holding out a clipboard. "do you think i could get a few details? i just need to know mum's name, baby's name--"

kyle gives it to her. your birthplace. your birthday. your name. your baby's name. then she flips a paper over, putting her pen down.

"and dad's name?" she asks.

kyle sighs, leaning back in his chair. they don't give out birth certificates right away. you have to request it. you won't find out, not just yet, maybe he'll even pick it up for you. you'll be much too busy being mummy dearest.

"kyle," he tells her, flashing her that big smile. she blushes a little, writing it down. "kyle garrick."

he looks back at where you are, your eyes on him. you smile shyly when your eyes meet, and kyle leaves the nurse to come up to you and drape a hand behind your head. he strokes along your hair gently, thumbing at your temple.

"i heard you outside, kyle."

"did you?"

"and i heard you just now."

"mm."

you blink, reaching for the edge of his shirt, and you pull him down, further, until his face is nearly against yours.

"i guess i shouldn't be surprised," you say softly, reaching up to smooth a a few knuckles down his cheek. he leans into it, licking his lips, and you bite your lip. "you've always had a habit of...taking what doesn't belong to you, huh?"

kyle laughs. always the pretty boy, ever since you were little. one smile from him--kyle could get away with anything. anything at all.

"who says you don't belong to me?"

[ranboolivesaysstuff]

HEY! Just because I am now 20 I think having something to kind of re establish boundaries would be good! Considering the ones I put all those times ago have changed :D GENERAL RULES! Do not be racist, sexist, homophobic, antisemitic, ableist, or discriminatory against anyone for any reason. Please if someone is calling you out for things you have done or said, please self-reflect and take the proper steps to change or remove yourself from the community. If you see something you do not like, and it IS MADE WORSE BY BRINGING ATTENTION TO IT, THEN IGNORE IT! Bringing attention to problems that just arent really problems with either the community or me in general are not worth it! Please use common sense when thinking about what/what not to engage with! I personally wish that people in the community do NOT engage with people who just obviously do not like me! Chances are they want a reaction from it so it is MUCH better to just not argue with someone whos mind you will not change! ALLOW CRITICISM OF ME AND MY CONTENT! IF YOU DONT AGREE OR DONT LIKE THEN DO NOT ARGUE ABOUT IT!!!! ALL IT WILL DO IS CAUSE UNESSICARY DRAMA!!! DO NOT make ANY comments or content about me that is explicitly sexual. I completely understand that lately there have been bits due to the changes in how I’ve been presenting myself and how I’ve been presenting more femininely, but that does not allow anyone to use that as an excuse to sexualize any features and such that are more feminine or masculine. Remember that femininity is not sexual and should not be seen or created as such just because its there! (for example, the Vtuber costume and chat being overly weird over the added boobs where there was no need for it). DO NOT draw me in ways that are sexual either, such as highlighting any aspects in a sexual way, or making the content something sexual. I am completely okay with being drawn as any body type, masculine presenting or feminine presenting, as long as you stick to this! PLEASE DO NOT SPECULATE ABOUT MY PERSONAL LIFE!!! Making jokes about certain topics CAN be fine, but a line is crossed when it becomes a legitimate speculation or if a joke is said when I have expressed my discomfort! RESPECT MY FRIENDS!!! All of my friends are their own, incredible people. And they do not deserve to be lumped in or referred to as JUST "my friend". Be respectful in their chats even when im not there, and be respectful to all of them everywhere else! IF SOMEONE IS TRYING TO INFORM YOU THAT YOU MAY BE DOING SOMETHING WRONG PLEASE LISTEN!!! There has been a lot of times in which I have seen people be unwilling to change in the face of a genuine discussion, and that is not something I want in the community! I should NOT have to police every single thing because it should NOT take me saying something in order to change your mind! As my words are not worth more or less when it comes to a lot of subjects! And lastly, do good. Whenever you have the ability to. BE POSITIVE!!! The hater mindset is very draining and can be very toxic to both you and the people around you, so highlight the good instead of the bad if you have the ability to! I am so incredibly proud of how far this community has come, and I cannot wait for the future!!! I have spent some time writing this, but it may not be perfect, so I will update this as time goes on and I think of more, or if something needs to be SUPER cleared up, but for now these are the main ones! I will NOT be updating this after every little thing however, as I do not want you guys to feel like the only way that something is wrong is if I talk about it! As you guys should be able to sustain yourself as a community without my consistent input! Imma go enjoy my birthday by eating a pizza :) thank you all!

[archives-of-a-hidden-writer]

Something Else

Thanos / Choi Su-bong X Nonchalant!Cold!reader

》Typing... |

》 [Entry No.003 - Something Else]|

》 Loading Archive Entry "Something Else" |

》 Location of Entry: Archivial's |

》 Tip: Feel free to leave a tip for the Archiver |

》 Notice: Entry Continuation, Archive Entry No.005

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》 Summary: Sometimes, being too calm at intense situations and gaining a bit of attention, even if it's from someone who is too high for this bloody game.|

》 Warnings: Spoilers for Season 2 of Squid game until at least episode 3-4, occur during and before the 1st game, reader's number is 457, implications of drug use, flirting, murder, blood, swearing, Thanos flirting with ji-woo before going after you. |

》 Archive Entry Loaded ◇

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You thought everything was messed up, as you had somehow gotten yourselves into this so-called 'Squid Games'.

You wake up in an unknown place filled with people you barely recognize. Although some gave a sense of familiarity, you didn't delve deeper into this feeling. You don't know what was happening after all, all you remember was playing ddakji with some salesman who definitely did not give you a suspicious feeling and gave you a weird card after the game, and then all of a sudden, you're here in this children-themed place. Now, you are being told to sign a waiver before playing a 'game'.

As everyone lined up to sign the paper, the one in front of you, who's number is one lower than you, seemed to be slower than the rest, seemingly actually reading the written rules before signing it.

Shrugging the man's intentions off, you signed the paper with a quick glance at the rules. It might be useful to you in the future, keyword, might.

As you finished signing yours, you walked off the line to go somewhere in the room or the called dormitory. As this occurred, a ruckus was happening on the sideline as a purple-haired man attempted to punch another guy but was stopped by his friend.

You somehow recognized those two from social media, one known for making his fans invest in a crypto coin and the other being a rapper.

You just silently tsked at them before moving along, not noticing the gaze that followed me from the purple-haired dude, but it was soon averted as I noticed another girl.

■■■■

"Everyone please line-up one at a time," the announcement echoed through the labyrinth of a room as people, now called players, each took their turn standing in front of the monitor and taking a pic.

As you waited for your turn, another scene occurred with none other than the rapper from before as many approached him and started mentioning how much of a fan they were of him. He then called all of them to group-up and take a picture together, followed by the man calling the braided girl that you now noticed as player 196, but she rejected him. The whole ordeal was soon stopped by a pink guard nearby.

■■■■

As you reached the end of the labyrinth of stairs of a room, you and the players reached the seemingly 1st game.

An announcer soon welcomed you all before saying to wait as the game starts, Red light, Green light, the game is said. Everyone scoffed and snickered as the said game was a kids' game, but one man wasn't having it as he ran to the front and started screaming of how they would kill you if moved.

As the man screamed, you just raised an eyebrow at the player's antics, what a weird guy, but it wouldn't hurt to d whatever this crazed man says. But it seems a few were still snickering and joking at the man.

Soon, the game started, the child-like doll then started to turn and chanted 'Red light, green light'. Everyone started to move until the doll stopped speaking and turned its head at us. The man earlier screamed to freeze, no one moved.

The same thing repeated until mostly everyone reached the halfway mark.

As everyone froze, the few silent seconds were disrupted by a girl's scream as she spun around and moved before being followed by a gunshot and a thudding of a body. It was soon followed by another scream and gunshots as everyone who panicked and moved was shot and killed with the man from earlier screaming for everyone to not panic and freeze.

The real chaos and hell began.

■■■■

A few moments after the wave of deaths, everyone stood close to each other, lining themselves into lines to hide from the doll's detectors.

The plan somewhat worked, with a few getting detected and shot as they either failed to hide or accidentally moved.

It was once again disrupted as the purple-haired man had killed at least 3 players as he pushed them while the doll's head was still towards everyone. You scoffed at the man for killing others, but did you even have anything to say as the two of you met gaze before you looked away from him, focusing on the game at hand.

As you focused on the game, Thanos, the purple-haired man, couldn't remove his eyes from you. Unlike the other players, you were somehow a bit calmer than them, more eased at this as if it doesn't phase you one bit. It didn't help that he was, at this moment, had already taken his little candy and is over his own head. You were really something.

■■■■

Soon enough, mostly everyone got through the line, and now everyone can finally have a breather as they survived.

Everyone was then brought back to the dormitory, pretty shaken up by the game given to them. Well, everyone but you and some few players, you were pretty shaken up as well, but not to the point you looked like you just went to an actual war field.

As you do your own thing on your bunk bed, Thanos had his gaze on you from the other side. 'Player 457... You're...' "Something else..." he muttered his thoughts as his pupils twitched, looking around before seemingly coming back to you. His looked over to him and asked if he was alright. He answered that he's alright in english, earning a confused look from his friend.

Despite barely meeting nor talking to you like what he did with player 196, he seemed to be just as smitten at you. But could he even manage to muster his hyped feelings before the games take his life?

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

》 Archiver's Notes: A short something for someone, @sukratyaropia24 , as a fellow squid game watcher and heavy on Thanos aka T.O.P. Had to skip the majority of what happened during the first game. Apologies for that.

》 Additional Archiver's Notes: Extra notes, I have removed one tag as I have noticed it wasn't even mentioned in the entry, which was reader choosing 'o', more so, the first voting wasn't mentioned yet.

[r6eduss]

Girllll what if an imagine where S3! Daryl and y/n are a thing and when Daryl left with his brother, rick and the others were the one who told y/n that he just left and she was so devastated that when daryl eventually came back she treated him coldly then eventually breaking down in front of him because they think it's easy for daryl to leave them

Idk maybe angsty in the beginning then fluffy at the end?? This scenario is stuck in my head for D A Y S 😩

Anws thanks!!

Listen before I go.

•Summary: Daryl leaves with Merle without thinking how it would affect you. (Fem Reader)

•Warnings: 18+, Twd violence, angst, fluff

•Word count: 2.6k

•Setting: The Prison

•A/N: thank you for the request! I’m really sorry if this isn’t what you wanted and you aren’t happy with it 😭 I rewatched a couple episodes to try and make it as accurate as possible to the actual series. also I’m a very strong believer that Daryl would call his partner sweetheart 🤞🏼(I promise I’ve seen all the other requests I’ve gotten!)

Rick, Daryl, and Oscar had set out to rescue Glenn and Maggie, who were being held prisoner in Woodbury. Michonne had accompanied them, serving as their guide through the hostile territory. The operation, however, hadn't gone as smoothly as planned. They had lost Oscar in the chaos, and the Governor had captured Daryl, forcing him into a brutal situation—pitting him against his own brother, Merle.

As the dust settled and the group reconvened, Glenn and Michonne stayed behind to watch over the car while Rick and Maggie went back for Daryl, determined not to leave him behind. Against their better judgment, they returned with more than just Daryl—Merle had tagged along, at Daryl’s insistence. Now, back at the car, an intense discussion was brewing over whether Merle and Michonne should be brought back to the prison.

“The Governor is probably headin’ to the prison righ’ now. Merle knows how he thinks and we could use the muscle,” Daryl’s eyes locking on Rick, his tone resolute. One way or another, he was bringing his brother back.

Tension radiated from Glenn and Maggie. Glenn, still nursing wounds from Merle’s brutal interrogation, was barely containing his anger. Maggie stood close, her face tight with the memory of her own trauma at the hands of the Governor. “He had a gun to our heads! You really want him sleeping in the same cell block as Carol or Beth?” Glenn's voice shook, both with fury and concern for his family’s safety.

Daryl shot back quickly, defensive. “He ain’t a rapist.” But Glenn was faster. His words were sharp, cutting through Daryl’s protest like a knife. “Well his buddy is.”

Daryl’s face tightened. “They ain’t buddies no more. Not after last night,” he said, growing more frustrated. To him, this was simple—Merle was family. Family was non-negotiable. Why was this even up for debate?

Rick, observing the growing argument, finally stepped in, his voice measured but firm. “There’s no way Merle’s gonna live there without putting everyone at each other’s throats.”

Daryl’s patience was fraying. “So ya gon’ cut Merle loose and bring the last samurai home with us?” His irritation was clear. They were even considering taking Michonne—someone they barely knew—while debating his own brother?

The group paused as Maggie spoke up, her voice softer but filled with conviction while gesturing towards Michonne. “She’s in no state to be on her own,” The trauma they'd all just endured weighed heavily on her, and she couldn't understand why Daryl seemed blind to it.

Rick and Daryl exchanged a look. They had their doubts about Michonne, and Rick had voiced that, telling the group that she’s not going back with them. “That’s righ’, we don’t know who she is. But Merle? Merle’s blood.” Daryl threw the statement out like it should end the conversation, as if everyone would automatically agree.

But Glenn’s response was immediate and cold. “No, Merle is your blood. My family is right here. And they’re waiting for us back at the prison.” His words hung in the air, heavy with finality. Maggie nodded in agreement, she wasn’t about to let Merle, of all people, endanger what little they had left.

Rick stepped closer to Daryl, his voice steady, attempting to bridge the growing divide. “And you're part of that family, Daryl. Not him.”

The statement struck Daryl hard. He looked baffled, wounded even. If they considered him family, why wouldn’t they accept his brother? “Man, y’all don’t know.” He shook his head, anger and confusion swirling inside him.

The silence that followed was tense. Everyone stared at Daryl, unsure of what more they could say. In their eyes, the decision was obvious—but for Daryl, it was far from simple. Finally, Daryl exhaled sharply. “Fine. We’ll fend for ourselves.”

The words hung in the air like a threat, and instantly the group erupted in protests. There was panic now, a desperation to keep Daryl from making a stupid decision out of anger. “No him, no me,” Daryl snapped, his voice thick with frustration. He felt cornered, like there was no room for him to protect both his blood and his new family.

Maggie stepped forward, “Daryl, you don’t have to do this.” He looked at her, and for a moment, his hardened expression faltered. “It was always Merle and me before this,” he said quietly, the pain in his voice clear. He was torn, and it was written all over his face.

Glenn, still reeling from everything, asked a question that Daryl forgot to consider in the heat of the moment. “What do you want us to tell Y/N?” It was a simple question, but one that carried so much weight. They both knew it would devastate you.

Daryl hesitated, his gaze dropping. “She’ll understand.” But there was a crack in his voice, a hint of uncertainty, deep down he knew that you in fact wouldn’t understand. The group fell silent, letting the gravity of the moment sink in.

For a long moment, Daryl stood there, chewing on the inside of his lip, torn between his past and his present. Finally, he began moving, heading toward the car. “Say goodbye to your pop for me.” Directing his comment towards Maggie. Rick quickly followed, refusing to let this situation go. “Hey, hey. There’s got to be another way,” he pleaded, knowing how hard this would hit not just Carol but you too.

Daryl paused, his back still to Rick. “Don’t ask me to leave him,” he said, accent thick as ever. “I already did tha’ once.” Arriving at the trunk he begins stuffing supplies into his bag, while telling Rick and them to take care of themselves. He hoists it over his shoulder, glancing one last time at the group, and walking away with Merle.

You stood quietly, arranging your belongings. Your cell had become somewhat of a sanctuary for you, a space to shape, however fragile, into a semblance of back home. You carefully sat down on your bed, deciding that you were going to nap, until you heard a knock, and saw Rick standing just outside. His hands rested against the cracked walls, not wanting to intrude too much. “How are you doing?” he asked, his voice very careful.

You offered a smile, though it didn’t reach your eyes. “I’m okay.” It was silent for a moment, you could tell he had more to say. “Is everything okay?” Rick slowly brought his gaze from your face to the ground, wondering how he could bring the news to you. “Listen.. Daryl’s gone. Left with Merle.”

Your heart lurched violently in your chest, but outwardly, you kept still, trying to keep your breath steady while each inhale felt like swallowing glass. “Is he coming back?” He was coming back right? You two had something special did you not?

Rick’s expression was one of apology, his shoulders heavy with the weight of what he had broke to you. “I don’t know. He told me you’d understand.” Understand? Understand that Daryl had chosen to abandon the love you thought you both had? Without even saying goodbye?

“Okay.” You replied softly, your voice refusing to betray the devastation roaring inside you. You couldn’t fall apart, and especially not in front of Rick.

He lingered for a moment longer, “if you need anything..—“

“I’ll be fine, Rick. Thank you.”

He gave you a solemn nod before stepping back into the hallway, the silence in your cell feeling almost suffocating. You sat frozen for a very long moment, staring at ceiling. Then, like a dam breaking, the tears came, hot and unbidden, blurring your vision as the enormity of it all crashed down on you. You sank onto your bed, your body shaking with silent sobs and your heart aching in ways you hadn’t expected. You’ve always known that Daryl was complicated, guarded.. but why did he leave? Were you not important enough to him? Did you really mean that little? A hundred questions burned in your mind, and none of them had answers.

It felt like an eternity before the next day finally arrived. The night had been restless, your mind circling endlessly around one thing, and that one thing was Daryl. The way he had just stood up and left you behind, it left a pit in your stomach that only deepened with each passing hour. But today, you had bigger problems, problems that made personal heartache seem almost insignificant.

Glenn was gone, in attempts to clear his mind. With Daryl gone and Rick wandering crazy town, he was the next in charge, and right now he had a lot of pent up anger on what the governor did to Maggie. But of course, while he was gone, the Governor had made his move, and it was brutal. His forces stormed the prison with a cold, ruthless efficiency, and everything erupted before you had time to prepare. Axel was the first to fall, a sharp crack of gunfire cutting through the air as he crumpled to the ground, lifeless. Carol, who had been standing just beside him, let out a sharp cry of shock. In a heartbeat she ducked behind Axel’s now motionless body, using him as a shield.

Bullets ripped through the air, the deafening sound of gunfire filling the space as you scrambled for cover. You crouched behind the crumbling remains of the prison walls that were near the gate, heart hammering in your chest, adrenaline surging through your veins. You clutched your rifle tightly, hands shaking slightly as you peeked out from behind the wall, eyes scanning for targets.

There. One of the Governor's men was in your line of sight, crouched low, his rifle trained on the courtyard. Without hesitating, you aimed and pulled the trigger. The recoil jolted your body, but you didn't wait to see if you hit your mark. You ducked back behind the wall, the echo of gunfire ringing in your ears. Around you, The group fought just as hard, each of them locked in their own battles.

As you leaned out again, carefully scanning for your target who you hadn’t known already retreated, your eyes fell on Herschel, who was still exposed in the courtyard. Rick, positioned just outside the fences, was also in a precarious situation. At that moment, the Governor and his men launched an assault, sending a car to smash through the courtyard fence. Herschel, crouched in the field with his rifle, began to feel the weight on him as walkers started to flood in from every direction.

The fear was palpable among you, Rick, and especially Maggie as you all dreaded the possibility of losing Herschel. Just as the Governor began to leave, Glenn had returned, driving into the courtyard while Michonne followed the truck, cutting through the walkers that stood in her way. Their intervention was a lifesaver; they quickly rescued Herschel, escorting him into the truck and out of the courtyard, into the safety of the prison gates.

Outside, Rick was struggling to fend off the relentless walkers closing in on him. Just when things seemed dire, a bolt flew through the air, striking the head of the walker attacking Rick. Daryl and Merle had returned, joining forces with Rick to clear the remaining walkers. Daryl and the rest of your family were okay.. and that’s all you needed to know before bolting back toward your cell, trying your best to avoid the archer in the process.

A couple hours later you found yourself sat on your bed, running your fingers absentmindedly over the pages of an old journal you started keeping. Without looking up, you could heard the familiar sound of boots shuffling just outside your cell. Daryl stood awkwardly in the doorway, his hand brushing against the frame of the cell, his shoulders hunched slightly as though the weight of the world rested on them. He didn’t say anything at first, just stood there, the air between them thick with tension.

"Hey," he muttered finally, his voice gravelly and hesitant.

You looked up at him then, your expression unreadable. Daryl shifted his weight, uncomfortable under your gaze. Without a word, you stood and brushed past him, your shoulder grazing his as you walked out of the cell. Daryl flinched at the contact, his jaw tightening. The cold shoulder hit him harder than any words could have, and as he watched you walk away, he felt the guilt gnawing at his insides.

The distance between you two only grew more unbearable. As the days flew by, you continued to ignore him, feeling as if he didn’t deserve your attention, while Daryl found himself missing the soft touch of your hand, the warmth you brought into his life that no one else ever could. He couldn’t stay away any longer. He needed to fix this.

He found you sitting on the edge of your bed again, scribbling quietly in your journal like yesterday, not looking up when he entered, just blatantly ignoring him.

"Damn it, why’re ya avoidin’ me?" His frustration finally boiled over, his voice harsher than he meant it to be. You paused, setting the journal down slowly before looking up at him with steely eyes, the walls around you finally beginning to crack. "Why did you leave, Daryl?" Your was voice trembling but controlled, laced with anger. "Was it that easy?"

Daryl froze, his usual tough exterior faltering. He wasn’t used to being confronted like this, especially by you. He fidgeted, biting the inside of his lip. "It ain’t like that… Merle— he’s my blood."

"And what am I, Daryl?" You instantly snapped, voice rising higher as your emotions spilled over. "Why was it so easy for you to leave me? You didn’t even say goodbye. Did you not care?" Daryl’s gaze fell to the ground, avoiding yours at all costs. “I wasn’t thinkin’ straight”

Your eyes instantly widened in disbelief and hurt. “You left me here, alone, when I thought we had something! You weren’t even clear headed enough to think about how it would affect me!” Daryl flinched at edge of your voice. “I didn’t know what to do! I was tryin’ to do what I thought was right.”

You stood up abruptly, your anger radiating off you. “What was right?! You think abandoning me without a word is doing what’s right? Why’d you even come back if clearly all you needed was Merle.”

Your words cut deeper than any wound he’d ever taken. He stood there, staring at you, the silence stretching painfully between you both. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he spoke, his voice barely more than a whisper. "I came back 'cause I realized I love ya."

Your heart fluttered at his words, the anger in your eyes softening, though the hurt was still there. For a very long pause you just stared at him, scanning his eyes for any possible doubt for what he just admitted to you. “..Actually?” You really couldn’t believe it, you never thought he’d be the one to say those words first, but he did. All You wanted to do was stay mad, to push him away for making you feel like you didn’t matter, but the vulnerability in his voice stopped you. He again chewed the inside of his lips and nodded slowly to answer your question. "I’m sorry." he mumbled, looking down. He looked like he was about to cry, and in that very moment you just wanted to nurture him.

So without thinking, you closed the distance and wrapped your arms around him. Daryl tensed at first, his back stiffening at the unexpected embrace, but after a moment, he slowly relaxed, his arms wrapping around you in return and leaning down into your neck, feeling comfortable and safe.

"I love you too.. but don’t ever leave me again."

Daryl leaned back and pressed a gentle kiss onto your forehead, lingering just for a moment. “I won’t, sweetheart.”

And that was a promise he’d never break. Not for anybody.

@vampiresluv

[skeltnwrites]

Bad Cop - Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: You wake to a call from your boyfriend Eddie who asks you to bail him out of jail. 

Word Count: 2.2k

TW: interactions with police, mild injury, talk of fighting and bullying, sexual innuendos 

A/N: I might be a little late to the Eddie Munson party but I’m here now! :D

“This is a collect call from Edward Munson at Hawkins Police Station. Will you accept the charges?” 

You clear your throat but your voice still feels raw when you speak, “Yes.” 

“Please hold,” the operator says. 

A trilling sound as you wait, twirling the phone cord anxiously. You’d been tucked in bed a minute ago, dead to the world. The phone rang loud enough from the kitchen to startle you awake. You caught the time on the alarm clock on the nightstand as you kicked the blankets off, just after one in the morning. 

“Y/N?” His voice is soft under the crackle. 

“Edward.” It’s not angry per se but you never use his real name which is telling.

“Please don’t be mad.”

“Are you okay?” you sigh, tipping your head till your forehead meets the wallpaper. 

“I’m sorry— I’m fine. I just, can you bail me out please.” 

“What happened, Eds?” 

“Just a stupid fight. Nothing serious, I promise.” He pleads like you won’t believe him and doesn’t give you a chance to press for details, “There’s cash in a shoebox on the top shelf of the closet. On my side, all the way in the back.” 

You want to scold him but you're still kneading sleep from your face, irritated now that you know he’s okay. You bite your cheek, considering the possibility of an argument. Knowing that it shouldn’t take place through a phone. 

“You’re sure? It’s enough?” 

“Swear.” 

“Okay, on my way.”

He apologizes again before the line clicks. 

You shuffle through the band tees he’s grown out of and have since been neglected to the back of your shared closet. You make a mental note to remind him to drop some off at Goodwill. Under a stack of vinyls, you locate the box with a rolled wad of twenties held together by a rubber band. You snap the band, biting your lip. It’s enough to buy something expensive, really expensive. You jam your heel into a laced sneaker and do not bother to change out of your pajamas. The money is pushed deep into your pocket along with the house keys. You shake away arising questions as you start the van. 

Cold air smacks your bare arms as you push open the station door. You blink rapidly at the fluorescents. An officer hands you a clipboard, you sign two dotted lines, and fork over most of the cash. He retreats to a separate room without a word, presumably to retrieve your boyfriend, leaving you alone in the lobby. 

Your arms pillow your head on the counter until a familiar set of steps rounds the corner. His eyes, big and sorry, find yours instantly. But your attention quickly shifts to the marbled purple and blue highlighting the arch of his cheek. The stern speech about bar fights and bail payments you’d rehearsed on the way flees your throat. He brushes past the counter to hug you and you spot a split lip too. Your shoulders deflate as you meet him halfway. 

“Thank you,” Eddie mumbles into your crown. 

You give his waist a quick squeeze before pulling back. His hands chase the goosebumps from your skin as you scan his face. His curls are frizzy which is typical but more disheveled like he’s been running his hands through them. Your nail traces his lower lip where it was clearly cracked open but is now glazed over with a layer of dry blood. “Lose any teeth?” 

He smiles, pearls still intact, and you can’t bring yourself to be mad. His breath smells faintly of alcohol as he says, “You look tired.”

“I am so tired,” you admit. 

He grits his teeth guiltily, “I’ll make it up to you.” 

An officer clears his throat and passes Eddie a brown paper bag with ‘Munson’ scribbled on the front. He snatches the bag with a wink. The man offers nothing but a blank stare, maybe mild disapproval as Eddie pivots and jogs toward you, already at the door. He fishes for his lighter from the bag, kissing and pocketing it as you step outside. 

“Can I drive?” Eddie reaches for the keys in your hand. You always let him drive. 

You snatch the carabiner to your chest, elbowing his side, “Are you trying to get a DUI too?” 

“I had one beer,” he scoffs as you unlock the door. 

You believe him but pretend not to as you hop in the driver's seat. “You’re a criminal now. Can’t be trusted!” You yell playfully before slamming the door as he jogs around the hood. 

“Very funny,” he mutters as he climbs in. 

You sling your arm over his seat to back out. The streetlight accentuates the bruise when you glance past him. 

“Does it hurt?” 

“Hmm?” 

You point at your own cheek. 

“Oh, no. It’s fine. Should’ve seen the other guy,” he chuckles. 

“We’ll ice it when we get home,” you pull out onto the main road before settling your gaze back on him. “So who was the other guy?” 

His eyes roll in your peripherals, “So Shelly Watkins was there—“ 

“You hit Shelly Watkins?” 

“Jesus! No! Her stupid boyfriend Rob Perry.” He groans in disgust. “You remember him? He was such a dick in high school!” 

You shake your head, trying to recall. 

“He’s a couple of years older I think. Well anyway, Shelly was blabbing her big mouth, as usual, about Robin and her new girlfriend.” 

“What was she saying?” You interrupt, curious but inferring already. 

“Nasty shit. And she’s talking so loud the whole bar can probably hear. I mean, I couldn’t not say anything, babe. And hey,” he throws his hands up in surrender, “All I said was ‘Seems like what other people do in their spare time isn’t your business.’” 

You smirk, knowing it was not as polite as he made it out to be. 

“And Rob is all ‘What did you say?’” Eddie teasingly lowers his voice, foot hiked up in his seat to face you with a finger curled under his nose like a mustache. 

You steal glances from the road to watch the theatrics as he retells the story, making sure to emphasize when he punched Rob square in the nose so hard it broke. 

“Did you win?” You ask, attempting to hide your proud grin by checking your blind spot. 

“Oh yeah.” Eddie crosses his arms, accidentally nicking the wound on his lip with his nail as he retracts the faux finger stache. He winces, tapping the cut to assess the damage. Fresh blood coats his finger; he’s quick to press his whole hand over his mouth as he fumbles through the glovebox with the other. A deck of fast food napkins you’d organized spills out. You catch one before it falls, crumpling it into his free hand and swerving back into your lane. He replaces his hand with the thin sheet, wiping his fingers on another napkin off the floor as you pull up to a stoplight. 

He tips his head like a puppy when he catches you staring. You lick your thumb, smearing a stray drop crawling down his chin. Your palm lingers on his skin, rubbing circles behind his ear as the light flicks green. 

It’s not long before you pull into the driveway and unlock the front door. Eddie holds a third napkin to his face. You consider going to the ER for stitches as you toss the keys on the counter and snatch a Ziploc bag from the cabinet. 

Two lines of light form a skewed L in the hall from the cracked bathroom door; A silent message that you are allowed to come in. It squeaks familiarly loud on its hinges but Eddie doesn't acknowledge you. 

He focuses on his reflection as he peels the napkin away hesitantly. The blood has stopped but his lip looks swollen and angry. You hook a finger through his belt loop, tugging him until he turns. You nudge the bag of ice to his cheek and he flinches grasping your hand to pull it away. 

“‘s cold.” 

You tug the hand towel off the sink and wrap the plastic, pushing it back to his cheek. You hold it there caressing his lash line with your pointer. He leans into the touch, rubbing his eyes with ringed fingers. Eddie pulls the thick silver off one by one, setting them on the counter. 

“Sit,” you tell him. 

He perches on the edge of the toilet lid obediently. You pick a washcloth from the drawer and run it under the sink. He parts his knees as you approach him, hands snapping into place at your hips. You cup his chin, pushing up until he tilts it toward you. Cool water cleans his lips where you brush. He doesn’t flinch, even when you accidentally dig too hard. You progress down to his jaw, where blood is smeared dry, and flaky. 

 “Think I’ll have a cool scar?” His breath fans your chin as you work cautiously. 

“No,” you say. He toys with the strings on your pants, happy to be taken care of. “But you don’t need it. You’re cool already.” 

The corners of his mouth lift fondly. He fights the urge to smile, hoping you’ll work longer if he sits still. You swipe in slow strokes, also secretly loving the time and touch. 

You give his face a once over before tossing the rag to the counter. He searches your expression for a diagnosis. But words are slow to find your mouth, too enraptured with the long lashes that bat his cheeks sweetly. “I love how eager you are to stick up for the people you love,” you start. 

“But?”

“But, we can’t afford you getting arrested over something like this.”

“I know,” he groans and headbutts you gently in the stomach. His hands cup the backs of your thighs and his hair drapes around his face like a curtain. You comb a handful of it over his neck and he tilts his head so you can see his eyes. “I don’t regret what I did, though. He’s always been such a bully. He deserved it, you know?” He sighs, gaze drifting away, “I felt like I could finally stand up to him after all these years.” 

Your fingers trail down his shoulder to smooth out the tee riding up his back. “I don’t doubt that he deserved it. I know you just want to do the right thing. But still, he can probably afford it, we can’t.” You hesitate to ask, “Where did you get that money anyway?” 

He hugs your middle, muttering into your belly, “Been saving.” 

“For what?” 

He shrugs and says what you believe to be, “Something special.” You are curious but lean on your trust rather than insecurity. He most likely intended to surprise you with something if you didn’t know.

“Sorry, you had to spend it.”

“Not your fault.” He peers up at you as if to ensure you know that and you brush his bangs back. 

“Still, sorry.” 

He blinks slowly up at you like a cat waiting for more pets. Then, he shoots up, back stiff, eyes wide. “You have work tomorrow,” he realizes out loud. 

“Oh, you didn’t hear?” you pull his arm until he stands. “I actually have come down with a real nasty cold,” you force a cough into your fist. 

“Oh yeah?” He raises an eyebrow. 

“Yeah, not only that but there's this criminal that won’t leave me alone. Think I might have to file a report at the station tomorrow.” 

He laughs, flicking the light off as he follows you to the bedroom. The ice pack is left to melt in the sink and the stained washcloth to dry on the counter, a mess for tomorrow you’ve decided. You’re quick to crawl under the covers and he’s even quicker to shed his clothes and join you. 

Eddie pecks the sliver of collarbone poking out of your shirt, making his way up in a dotted line. He presses gently to your lips, and you break away mindfully, aiming for the corner instead. 

“You know?” Your eyes are closed but you feel his stare. 

You hum.

“I think it’s kinda sexy when you call me a criminal.” 

“Oh my God!” You throw an arm over your burning cheeks, “You are so horny.”

He laughs into your wrist but moves it aside to cradle your cheeks firmly. He pulls one eyelid open gently with his thumb when you refuse to engage. You release the smile you’ve been keeping. He mirrors it, teeth bright in the moonlight spilling in. “Think about it, I already have handcuffs so you can play bad cop and—“ 

You grope for a pillow to push into his face and then another when he chucks it off the bed, giggles overlapping. 

“I’m going to call the police on you, have them arrest you again. Take you to horny jail.” 

“Now you get it,” he releases his grip on your wrists to sit back on his heels and in a voice that is not his own he fawns, “Oh, officer! I promise to be a good boy from now on!” 

You roll over, groaning wildly into your pillow. “Go to bed!” 

He settles behind you, his heart races where it's thumping against your back. Yours isn’t far off. A final kiss is planted on your nape where he tickles you with his hair as he wishes you a good night.

[suiana]

imagine yandere! drider who makes himself at home in the corner of your room one day.

you come home from work, absolutely tired and just wanting to have a break... only to hear a weird scratching sound coming from your room. what the hell could it be? surely it's just your imagination? so you make your way towards your room nonchalantly, pushing the door open and...

"wha-?!"

"oh, darling."

you freeze, staring at this... absolutely gorgeous drider who had made himself at home in the corner of your room... you were originally going to let things be until you saw the many tiny babies on the back of his spider lower body. screaming and throwing your bag at him, you slam your door shut and run away from your room as fast as you could. shit, shit, shit! a spider dilf?!

...you were going to escape until you hit your toe and started crying on the ground. the drider came out of the room (with babies and all) and nursed you back to health.

and that was your first meeting with the hot asf spider dilf in your room.

you later learned that he was surprisingly gentle and didn't mean for you to be scared by his appearance. you wanted to tell him the truth. that well, you weren't scared by his appearance, sure, you were stunned when you saw this whole ass grown dude in your room but he was hot so it doesn't really matter. but rather, his kids scared the hell out of you with their tiny beady eyes. however... you're sure that if you said that, he'd try and kill you. you've seen how caring and loving he is with his tiny spider babies after all.

you've also come to learn that he really loves making intricate web designs. designs that absolutely sparkle when the light hits them in a certain way... they're all so beautiful and mesmerizing that you can't help but compliment him whenever you can.

"hey, your patterns are beautiful as usual dude."

"ah... thank you love."

he blushes, avoiding eye contact as he shakily pulls out a flower from behind his back. right, he's been giving you these gifts at random too. it's cute. well, not when he just started out though. he used to gift you dead rats.

you were horrified when you woke up one day and saw a dead rat on your desk. what the fuck?! your drider roomie didn't seem all too phased, even looking at you expectantly as he waits for a compliment. you had to explain to him that humans don't accept gifts like that. he looked rather deflated the rest of the day after that. talking about how his spouse must hate him and stuff. you didn't know he had a spouse.

you've also realized that he's weirdly overprotective of you.

you can't even go out on dates anymore. or... talk to anyone for that matter. he once threw your phone at a wall when he saw you texting this guy you were planning on meeting up. he also gets all pissy and starts making weird spider sounds while his children crawl around your feet. you were super grossed out by that at first but you've grown used to it by now.

"dude stop, i just want to go on a date!"

"no."

"why?!"

"you already have me! that's why!"

he gets all pouty, arms crossed over his huge tits as he nags you about trying to cheat on him. you never really said anything about that before. surely he's just roleplaying because you sometimes act like his lover by giving him food and asking how he is. but this has gone too far! you have to say something!

"we aren't dating, what are you on about?"

"yeah, because we're married."

what.

you stare at him, jaw dropping as his kids tug on your pants and chat noisily. did he just... say you guys were married? you try searching his face for any lies, only to be hit by the fact that he was serious.

that's when everything starts to suddenly fit together in your mind. the gifts, the name-calling, the fact that his kids love you... damn, maybe it was also because you complimented his webs that solidified his belief that you two were together. you read somewhere that male spiders make patterns to impress potential mates.

"um..."

"hmph! don't go on any dates anymore. i can't believe you keep trying to be unfaithful. our kids will be sad you know!"

damn it, looks like you got yourself a drider husband now.

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCXDP fanfic idea: A Pen Pal's Duty

It starts off with a single letter.

Danny has always heard about pen pals through TV programs, but Amity Park was too small to participate in exchange programs, including passing letters. It was a concept that was all Hollywood to him.

He figured it was also one of those dying practices, and someday, no one would bother writing letters, especially with the increased paranoia of speaking to strangers that overtakes the country after people start figuring out the more likely kidnapping tactics that criminals use.

Not to mention the increase in scams. No one even answers a phone number they don't recognize anymore. Pen Pals just becomes a pipe dream.

Then, he becomes a hallfa with access to infinite worlds. Each is set in different time frames, locations, and languages. He figures that he could become a pen pal with one of them, and goes home to write the perfect first letter. He even calls in favor of one of the universe's most powerful beings, Ghostwriter, who can affect the fabric of the universe just so the man can write an epic poem centered around a mailbox.

This mailbox would connect their worlds but not allow travel, as the living can not enter the Realms. Ghostwriter is beside himself, claiming the symbolism of longing, of friendships transcending life and death, and of the power of the written word to connect worlds was too grand of a writing prompt for him not to do.

Danny stops listening after a moment, his eyes glazed over just like whenever Mr. Lancer talks about class readings. Eventually, the ghost has his mailbox set to station itself as soon as someone attempts to write back to Danny. He even wrote in a clause that allowed whoever became his pen pal to understand English the second they touched the letter.

Danny would gain the same knowledge once their fated pen pal wrote them back. Apparently, Ghostwriter wanted it to be a "chosen one" trope.

He told Danny to fly around the Infinite Realms, select a door, and let lose his introduction letter so that his powers could lead the letter to where it had to go.

Danny flies around for a while, trying to pick a world to throw his letter in, and eventually selects the one that seems almost crystalized were it not for the lines of technology he can see running through it.

He had written his letter as if though he had always been Phantom. The reason was that Danny didn't want whoever his pen pal-to-be to find out about Halfas, due to first-hand experience of what people did when finding rare beings such as he and Vlad.

Plus, Danny was also raised on the "Don't talk to strangers. Don't open the door if home alone. Don't tell anyone where he lived or what his age is online" ideals of his generation.

He was comforted by the fact that Ghostwriter could only pass along written scripture, and thus, the pen pals could not share photos or videos.

He opened the door, staring into the swirling green of the portal, and threw in his letter. To keep his identity further hidden behind Phantom, he made it seem like he could not cross into the living world either and thus could not entirely open the door himself.

A few days go by before Danny suddenly gets a Ding sound goes off in his head, letting him know someone has responded. It's torture waiting for the final bell to right, but the minute it does, Danny is racing out of school towards the Ghost Zone portal as fast as his human legs can take him.

He flies as fast as he can as Phantom- which is very fast. He just topped his latest speed at 300 mph- and found the same crystallized door. Outside of it, now flouts a glowing mailbox with the words D. Phantom inked on the side. A little red flag is raised, letting him know a delivery has arrived. Ghostwriter's symbol is also flouting near the box, letting other ghosts know not to touch it.

Once again, Ghostwriter has a reputation in the Infinite Realsm: there was a reason it took all the willing ghosts on Truce Day to help Danny take him down.

Feeling giggly, Danny pulls open the lid and finds a blank envelope inside. He rips it open at once, for a second not able to understand the writing, until a soft type writer sound echoes behind his ears, and suddenly he can read it.

Dear Phantom,

My name is Jor-El of planet Krypton. I was delighted to be the one to find your letter, and I hope we can become great friends. I am fourteen years old and dream of becoming a scientist who can help my people. Maybe when I become a successful scientist, I can even invent a way to travel to the home planet you hailed from when you were alive. I am already searching for Earth in my skies.

A friendship is born. Over the years, Jor and Danny trade many letters. They learn everything about each other, from Phantom's battles to Jor's crush on Lara. They advise each other where they can, trading ideas of inventions and research.

Jor makes a compiled file of his planet's culture and technology, eager to show Danny everything about Krypton while Danny does his best to do the same about Earth and the Realms. Danny's decision to be only Phantom with Jor can be a little hard to maneuver, but he makes it work by explaining he came to form in the Ghost Zone- technically not a lie- and all ghosts created in the zone can and will age.

Danny is even one of Jor's honorary stone bearers at his and Lara's wedding, while Danny names a few of his inventions after the house El.

Then, sometime after Jor's son is born, tragedy strikes. Danny had noticed that his friend's letters had slowed down, but he figured it was primarily due to being a new father and getting a high-paying position in his dream field. Danny's adult life was just as hectic as he was a department head at NASA's research and engineering department.

He could barely find time to visit family, let alone date around. Sam and he broke up in junior year but remained close friends. Danny dated around in college but really buckled down to focus on his career the closer he got to NASA. He had no idea how Jor was able to balance everything when he was working in Krypton's version of NASA.

He should have checked.

By the time he got Jor's newest letter, Danny had realized too late it would be his friend's final one. Jor had discovered his sun was exploding, and although he tried his best to save his planet, no one believed him until it was too late.

Thus, he focused all his energy and resources on creating two escape pods strong enough to escape the sun's gravitational pull. It wouldn't be large enough to see his whole family, but his son and niece could live. Jor wasn't sure if his escape rockets would even work, but he did not have time or the means to test them.

He just did his best with his brother's help to save their children and set the coordinates for a planet that once housed a dear friend: Earth.

The letter ended with a final goodbye to Danny. After reading the letter, Danny attempted to open the door and fly to Jor's rescue, but when it swung open, all he saw was the other side of the zone. It was merely a floating doorway that led nowhere now.

The portal was gone because Krypton was gone. Danny's pen pal and friend of twenty years was no more.

A scream of angst rattled through the Infinite Realms as one of it's most potent members realized he was powerless against the circle of life.

He made a tough decision.

Devastated, he eventually visited Ghostwriter, asking if Kara and Kal had survived, and the writer let him know that Kal would land on that universe's earth in a week (Jor had been dead for four days.) while Kara was floating in space, frozen after a malfunction in her rocket's blast. Since they were apart if Ghostwriter's recorded story of the mailbox he would know that much.

Sadly, now that the letters between Danny and Jor would end, Ghostwriter would no longer know their tale. They were out of his influence.

Danny couldn't save his friend or planet, but he wasn't about to let the two children down.

"You realize to live in one universe, you must die in another?" Clockwork asks for the millionth time as Danny suits up his rocket, taking every letter he and Jor shared and any personal item he could fit. "The second I open a doorway to that world's earth, you officially die in this one? Your family and friends will grieve you. You will never see them again."

"I know," Danny whispers, sending Sam, Tucker, his parents, and his sister a silent apology. "But I have to do this. Can you make it look like an accident? One that doesn't put the blame of my death on anyone's feet but my own?"

"I'll design the scene like an explosion of one of your experiments gone wrong. No one will be to blame." Ghostwriter solemnly swears. His eyes gain a pitying light that Danny has recognized over the years. After all, the narrator knows one of his biggest secrets because he saw it the second he wrote that pen pal system. "You can not replace Jor-El with Kal-El."

"Of course, I can't," Danny laughs without humor, sealing up his rocket. He gives the two ghosts a sad smile. "I'm not in love with Kal."

Clockwork stares impassively before he turns and waves his staff. A portal opens up before Danny. "This will take you to the Earth five minutes before Kal lands. When you are ready, you may pass but know this Phantom. You can not return to the Realms."

Ghostwriter sighs, placing one hand on Danny's shoulder. "Love is one of history's greatest gifts and saddest tragedies. I look forward to your story being written out in your new home. Remember to live while you are there."

Danny smiles, pulling the writer into a hug and ignoring how he goes rigid. "Thank you for everything you've done over the years, Ghostwriter."

"Think nothing of it. You were a wonderful muse," The man whispers as Danny hops into his ship. He stands by Clockwork, who shifts into his elder form as Danny powers up his boat. His eyes show a sad look as he stares up at the man he watches grow until the ship vanishes through Clockwork's portal.

"Will he be alright?" He asks the time god.

"He will. I arranged for him to inherit a forgotten farm next to a kind couple. The Kents are more than happy to help an overwhelmed single father of two and will grow to become like a set of grandparents for Kara and Kal." Clockwork answers.

"That's not what I'm asking."

Clockwork hums. "Danny's has long ago accepted that Jor's heart was never his. His core knows it, and he's grown accustomed to the pain. But he will find peace on that Earth. He even finds a new love."

"Who?"

"Now, that would be telling. As a writer, you know it's best to let the story unfold than to give it all away." Clockwork twirls his staff "But know his adoptive son and daughter are less than pleased with a Gotham Butler."

Ghostwriter blinks. "What does that mean?"

"It means Danny will have to dodge some overly protective bats. Now then, could you tell me about your latest work? It's been a long time since I enjoyed a good story."

[reasoningdaily]

My former U.S. Track and Field teammate Tori Bowie, who was found dead in her home in Florida on May 2, of complications related to childbirth at 8 months pregnant, was a beautiful runner. She was effortless. At the Rio Olympics, I ran the second leg of the 4 x 100 relay. Tori was the anchor. When she got the baton, I remember thinking, “it’s over.” She just accelerated. When she crossed the finish line, I couldn’t wait to run over to her to celebrate. It was her first, and only, Olympic gold medal.

She also picked up a silver (in the 100-m) and bronze (200-m) in Brazil. The next year, at the 2017 World Championships in London, Tori won the 100-m title, earning the title of “world’s fastest woman.” Tori started out as a long jumper. So seeing her thrive as a sprinter was a huge deal. She was just such a bright light, and people were getting to see that.

Tori grew up in Mississippi and had this huge Southern accent. She didn’t take herself too seriously. You felt this sense of ease when you were around her. I last saw her in early 2021, in San Diego, where she was training. She gave me the biggest hug; something about her spirit was just very, very sweet. I felt her sweetness come over me that day.

Tori was 32 when she died. According to the autopsy, possible complications contributing to Bowie’s death included respiratory distress and eclampsia—seizures brought on by preeclampsia, a high blood pressure disorder that can occur during pregnancy. I developed preeclampsia during my pregnancy with my daughter Camryn, who was born in November 2018. The doctors sent me to the hospital, where I would deliver Camryn during an emergency C-section, at 32 weeks. I was unsure if I was going to make it. If I was ever going to hold my precious daughter.

Like so many Black women, I was unaware of the risks I faced while pregnant. According to the CDC, in 2021 the maternal mortality rate for Black women was 2.6 times the rate for white women. About five days before I gave birth to Camryn, I was having Thanksgiving dinner with my family. I mentioned that my feet were swollen. As we went around the table, the women shared their experiences during pregnancy. My cousin said she also had swollen feet. My mom didn’t. Not once did someone say, ‘oh, well, that’s one of the indicators of preeclampsia.’ None of us knew. When I became pregnant, my doctor didn’t sit me down and tell me, ‘these are things that you should look for in your pregnancy, because you are at a greater risk to experience these complications.’

That needs to change, now, especially in light of Tori’s tragic passing. Awareness is huge. Serena Williams had near-death complications during her pregnancy. Beyoncé developed preeclampsia. I hate that it takes Tori’s situation to put this back on the map and to get people to pay attention to it. But oftentimes, we need that wake-up call.

The medical community must do its part. There are so many stories of women dying who haven’t been heard. Doctors really need to hear the pain of Black women.

Luckily, there’s hope on several fronts. Congress has introduced the Momnibus Act, a package of 13 bills crafted to eliminate racial disparities in maternal health and improve outcomes across the board. California passed Momnibus legislation back in 2021. These laws make critical investments in areas like housing, nutrition, and transportation for underserved communities. Further, several pharmaceutical companies are making advances on early detection and treatment of preeclampsia.

Three gold medalists from that 4 x 100 relay team in Rio set out to become mothers. All three of us—all Black women—had serious complications. Tianna Madison has shared that she went into labor at 26 weeks and entered the hospital “with my medical advance directive AND my will.” Tori passed away. We’re dealing with a Black Maternal Health crisis. Here you have three Olympic champions, and we’re still at risk.

I would love to have another child. That’s something that I know for sure. But will I be here to raise that child? That’s a very real concern. And that’s a terrifying thing. This is America, in 2023, and Black women are dying while giving birth. It’s absurd.

I’m hopeful that things can get better. I’m hopeful that Tori, who stood on the podium at Rio, gold around her neck and sweetness in her soul, won’t die in vain.

—as told to Sean Gregory

[chheolie]

"when i met jeonghan, i never imagined i would have two other perfect copies of him in my life."

choi seungcheol as father of a little girl in primary school.

d/n = daughter name

you and seungcheol received a notice from your daughter's school asking that at least one of you should come to the teachers' office. normally, you are the one who attends d/n's school meetings, but since seungcheol had a day off, he offered to go.

upon arriving at the school, in front of the teachers' office, he found your daughter sitting on a bench, her head down, swinging her legs. seungcheol approached calmly but worried. he knelt down, held d/n's hands, and asked in a gentle voice, "what happened, dear?" d/n didn't respond, continuing to look at the ground.

soon, the teacher noticed seungcheol's arrival and approached. he stood up to greet her formally.

"mr. choi, sorry to make you come here, but in cases like this, we must follow protocol," the teacher said. "d/n hit a classmate, and we advise that her parents talk to her."

seungcheol was surprised by the news, as his daughter was not one to hit others; on the contrary, she was a sweet and delicate girl. he looked at d/n and felt a pang in his heart seeing her so sad.

"oh... i'm sorry," he said, not knowing what else to say. "this won't happen again."

the teacher nodded and asked him to sign a notice of awareness, which he did. "shall we go home?" he asked with the same gentleness, picking up the backpack beside her.

she stood up and took her father's hand. the two walked in silence to the car. seungcheol knew she was afraid of being scolded, so he preferred to respect her space.

d/n settled into the back seat. while adjusting her seatbelt, seungcheol said, "don't worry, my princess, appa won't scold you. but i need to understand what happened." he looked into her eyes, conveying reassurance.

the little girl hesitated for a moment but with sad eyes said, "i'll talk when we get home and are with omma."

seungcheol agreed in silence, patted her hair, and closed the door. he then sat in the driver's seat and started the car, glancing at his daughter from time to time in the rearview mirror.

upon arriving home, you were in the living room waiting for them. you stood up seeing the frustration in your husband's eyes and your daughter's head down.

"what happened?" you asked, worried but maintaining a calm tone.

"d/n, can you tell us now?" seungcheol asked.

"a boy spent the entire class pulling my hair," she began with a trembling voice. "so i did what uncle jeonghan told me to do."

"what did uncle jeonghan tell you to do?" seungcheol asked, raising an eyebrow, fearing the answer.

"he said that if any boy at school messed with me, i should kick his butt," she replied.

you controlled yourself as much as possible not to laugh. the situation was funny; you would definitely have done the same, and jeonghan would definitely say something like that.

seungcheol gave you a reproachful look. he knew you wanted to laugh because he knew you perfectly.

"i can't believe i have three of you in my life," cheol murmured, shaking his head.

you placed a hand on seungcheol's shoulder, trying to comfort him but unable to hide a smile.

"we're going to talk to uncle jeonghan about this, and you, little princess, need to understand that violence is not the solution, even if he started it," you said to your daughter, with a firm but loving look.

d/n nodded, understanding she had caused trouble, but feeling supported by her parents.

seungcheol decided to impose a light punishment so d/n could reflect on what she had done: no snacks for a week. after talking to d/n, he called your brother, jeonghan.

"jeonghan, we need to talk about what you told d/n," seungcheol started, serious.

"what did i say?" he asked, confused.

"you told her to kick other kids' butts," seungcheol said sternly.

on the other end of the line, jeonghan laughed.

"ah, so my little princess really did that?" jeonghan responded proudly, still laughing.

"it's not funny," seungcheol scolded. "she needs to learn to handle these situations differently."

"sorry, cheol, i didn't think she would take it so seriously," jeonghan said, still in an amused tone.

after finishing the call, seungcheol finally relaxed on the couch. he saw his daughter approaching with a sweet, bright look; she knew perfectly how to melt her appa's heart.

"appa, i'm sorry for what i did. i promise not to do it again," she said, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing his cheek.

seungcheol took a deep breath, trying to maintain his resolve.

"i know, dear, but you're still punished with no snacks for a week."

d/n, however, didn't give up. she was good at this. she continued to stroke her father's face and looked at him with the most adorable eyes only she could make.

"appa, please... just one snack?" she asked, with the sweetest voice possible.

seungcheol tried to resist, but her affection was irresistible. he sighed again and finally gave in.

"alright, just one," he said, defeated.

you, watching the scene from afar, couldn't contain your laughter. "i knew you wouldn't resist her," you said, laughing.

seungcheol looked at you with an embarrassed smile.

"it's hard to say no to her," he admitted.

d/n smiled, happy to have gotten what she wanted. before taking the snack, she hugged her father again.

"i love you, appa," she said, with a mischievous smile.

seungcheol, still smiling, responded: "i love you too, my little one."

d/n then held out the snack to him, with an expectant look.

"want to share the snack with me, appa? so we can eat together!"

seungcheol hesitated for a moment, but d/n's kindness and affection were irresistible. he accepted the snack with a smile.

"sure, let's share."

you laughed to yourself, watching your mini-you in action.

"when i met jeonghan, i never imagined i would have two other perfect copies of him in my life," seungcheol commented, seeing you laugh at the situation.

[lovebugism]

I lurvvv ur writing so much and I totes am picking up what your putting you down, Steve picks you up for a date in his truck you’re tryna get to know each other first but the tensions just building and you can’t resist heheheh👀🫣

thank you for requesting :D — eddie and the gang get strangely protective of you when the find out steve's taking you out on a date (loser!reader, implied enemies to lovers | 1.6k)

The sun sets outside of The Palace Arcade. Dustin bursts through the doors and out into the orange-tinted parking lot, headed undoubtedly for Eddie’s rusted van. “I call shotgun!” he shouts to no one in particular, but to you especially. He’s confused and only slightly relieved when you don’t race him for it.

“You can have it,” you say with a roll of your eyes, pausing on the curb and crossing your arms over your chest.

Eddie pauses mid-stride. His wild curls sway around his face when he spins to glare at you, dark eyes narrowed in an accusatory squint. It’s unlike you not to challenge Dustin for the front seat, just like it’s unlike you to dress as nicely as you are now — all pretty and made-up for a day at the arcade.

“You’re not coming?” he asks.

“No,” you shrug, pretending to be cool about the whole thing. “I told you, Steve’s picking up—”

“You didn’t tell me that,” he interjects. 

“That’s weird,” you scoff an awkward laugh. “I coulda sworn I said something earlier—”

He takes one slow step towards you, glancing up and down your form with a suspicious gaze. “What’s going on? Are you lying to me?” he rambles. “Wait— You’re not staying late to try and beat my Robotron top score, are you?”

“No!” you blurt, half-offended by the accusation. “You’re literally the only person who cares about that stupid game, anyway.”

“Then what?”

“Steve’s coming to get me because…” you trail off, speaking in hesitant murmurs as your friends crowd behind Eddie. You swallow hard and lift your chin, feigning an air of confidence. “Because we have a date.”

“You have a what now?” Lucas wonders aloud, voice a few octaves higher than normal.

“Eugh!” Eddie groans, much louder than probably necessary.

“It’s not a big deal!” you shout back.

“You guys are gross,” Dustin grouses.

“It’s one stupid date!”

“Yeah,” Eddie scoffs emotionlessly. “But one stupid date turns into one stupid year together. Which turns into one stupid marriage and having stupid babies—”

“You sound jealous,” you laugh.

“…Of you or Steve?”

“Either.”

“Doesn’t matter— It’s still disgusting,” he concludes, face screwed with horror. “Now whenever I see you guys, which is practically all the fuckin’ time, all I’m gonna be able to think about is you and Steve boning each other.”

“That’s ‘cause you’re a pervert,” a familiar voice quips from a distance. 

Your heads whip in sync to find Steve sauntering down the sidewalk with his hands in the front pocket of his creased slacks. He’s wearing his good khakis, and the nice sweater his mom got him for his birthday. An angel, fallen from the heavens, now landed in your lap.

Eddie scowls while the brunette boy flashes you a lopsided smile. “Ready to go?” he asks you, despite the number of curious leers from the surrounding teenagers.

They’ll probably never get used to King Steve having a thing for a weirdo like you. 

You won’t either.

“Yes, please,” you lilt quietly and take the hand he extends towards you. His palm is warm and softly calloused under your touch, almost the exact feeling of velvet.

He leads you a few spots down to where his truck sits idling. Eddie calls behind you, “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, alright? Actually, no— Don’t do anything I would do.”

You smile over your shoulder. “Whatever, Eds."

“And don’t keep her out too late, either, or I’ll call the Chief,” Dustin shouts, rushing to the two of you when you disappear between Steve’s pick-up and a rusted Chevy. He crosses his arms and narrows his eyes, trying hard to be intimidating despite his oh, so pinchable cheeks. “And, trust me, I’ll know.”

He leaves out the part where you live across the street from each other.

You nearly say something about his empty threats until Steve beats you to the punch. “I’ll have her home by midnight, Dusty-Bun,” he cajoles over his shoulder, opening the squeaking passenger-side door for you.

You giggle to yourself and duck inside. 

The pleather interior is still smooth, with little to no signs of weathering. And everything in it smells like Steve — his cologne, his hair gel; the cigs he smokes, the gum he chews to cover it up. It’s a sweet sort of musk that makes your head swim.

“Don’t call me that!” you hear Dustin gripe when the driver’s side door opens and closes again.

Steve puts the keys in the ignition. The engine roars to life. Wham! plays softly on the radio. He sends Dustin a measly wave as he backs out of the parking lot. The boy flashes him his middle finger in return.

“Sorry about them,” you murmur, sliding the seatbelt over your chest.

Steve laughs. “You say that like I don’t know ‘em.”

“Still. They’re total freaks. I feel like I should apologize.”

“Nah, don’t— don’t worry about it,” he stammers, suddenly very hyperaware of the song playing on the radio. Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go. A sickly sweet pop beat that he can hardly stand, so he figures you must despise it.

His hands grow clammy on the steering wheel, and he readjusts his grip. “Uh, you can put a tape in the deck. You know. If you want to or whatever.”

You take the opportunity to fish through his belongings with perhaps more swiftness than you mean to. He motions to the glove box, and you lift the handle to open it. Right on top of the unorganized cassettes sits a tube of lipstick — a tiny golden thing with a ring of familiar maroon at the bottom.

“Wow. This is a really pretty shade, Steve Harrington,” you croon. “I bet it really brings out your eyes.”

Steve’s gaze flits from the road, to the lipstick in your hand, and back again. His face floods with horror, and your grin widens. “That’s— That’s Robin’s. I swear. She leaves her shit in here all the time, it’s so annoying—”

“I’m just messin’ with you, Stevie,” you giggle.

You keep the lipstick in your lap while you rummage through the tapes. Plastic clatters together under your fingertips before you ultimately settle on a David Bowie cassette. Modern Love plays softly through the speakers. You smile to yourself when Steve taps his anxious fingers against the steering wheel to the beat.

He clears his throat. “I, uh— I didn’t wanna say anything earlier, you know, with Eddie and everyone around, ‘cause they’re total drama queens, but, uh… You look really pretty tonight.”

You slouch in your seat, trying and failing to hide your smile. “Just tonight?” you tease.

“Every night,” he corrects.

“Well, you look really pretty tonight, too, Stevie.”

Your eyes narrow in a playful squint. Steve’s cheeks flush a faint pink color. He rolls his eyes and turns away. “Stop flirting with me,” he mumbles sheepishly.

“You started it!”

“No, I was being sincere. You’re just trying to get in my pants.”

“Oh, am I?” you lilt.

“Uh-huh.”

“Well, why does that have to be such a bad thing, huh?”

Steve glances at you for a moment. The amber streetlamps whip by every few seconds, casting flitting shadows over his statuesque face. “…You’re doing it again,” he mumbles.

“Sorry,” you say, though the way you look at him says otherwise. 

You sit up straighter and flip down the truck’s visor. A sliver of your eyes shows in the small mirror there. You slide the top of the lipstick off with a soft click. 

“Think Robin will mind if I use this?” you ask him, already twisting at the bottom of it.

“I think Robin forgot it existed the second she left it in here,” Steve scoffs.

You smear the muted rogue over your bottom lip, then rub your mouth together to disperse the satin onto your top one. It feels strange there, like a heavy swathe of powdery silk.

The last time you wore lipstick was senior prom, you think — and even then, you'd wiped it off as you snuck into the Hellfire classroom to finish Gareth’s D&D campaign.

It feels foreign on your lips now, but a good kind of foreign, as you turn in the leather seat to face Steve better.

The mischievous look in your eye makes him cower slightly. It makes his heart skip a beat, too, but he cowers nonetheless. “What are you doing?” he wonders without taking his eyes off the road.

“Nothin’,” you lilt, cupping his left cheek in your right hand. “Just focus on the road.”

His breath catches when your lips press to his jaw, lingering there to stamp the shape of your mouth onto his skin. He tries hard to focus on the road, but he gets quickly drunk on the feeling of you — on the warm hand on his face, on the soft plush of your lips, and on the perfume spritzed on your neck he can smell from here.

He has to remind himself to breathe while your mouth kisses wherever it can reach — his chin, his cheek, his temple, his forehead.

The entire right side of his face is soon marked with your lipstick stain. It makes him feel slightly unbalanced. He needs you to do the same to his left side, too, so he can feel whole again.

“What was that for?” he wonders aloud, breathing heavily for a reason he can’t name, as you settle back in the seat beside him.

“For bein’ so pretty,” you shrug.

“You know I can’t go into Enzo’s looking like this, right?” he laughs.

“Well, maybe we don’t have to go to Enzo’s at all. Maybe we could go somewhere a little more… private.” 

Steve’s eyes flit to you once, then linger on your face for longer than he means to. Your lipstick has smudged softly from where you’d kissed him so ardently. Your mouth is slightly swollen from it, too, as it curls into a mischievous grin. He shakes his head and turns away before he can drown in your eyes.

He swallows hard, adam’s apple bobbing. “Lover’s Lake it is…”

[lanadelreyscokewhor3]

YUCK!- D. GRAYSON

pairing: richboy! dick grayson x girly! innocent!fem! reader

word count: 3.8k

part two here!

summary: dick grayson was not a relationship man. he was brooding, cold and much prefered a one night stand- but when you caught his eye at a club, everything changes. so long mr. brooding, and hello head over heels dick!

warnings: sexual thoughts/ implications but nothing happens this chapter, pet names, size kink implied, drinking mentioned, swearing, dick really just turns into a lover boy who is obsessed and possesive with reader hehe

"yuck, now you got me blushin'/ cheeks so red when the blood starts rushing/ yuck, that boy's so mushy, sending me flowers, i'm just tryna get lucky/ yuck, lookin' at me all sucky/ yuck, quit acting like a puppy/ fuck, going all lovey-dovey on me"- yuck, charli xcx

Dick Grayson had his eyes on you.

He watched for hours, simply waiting. He had always been quiet, elegant and sly.

Like a black cat in the night, he slithered his way across a room- seeming to work it without saying a word.

Where the others wore bright reds and soft hues of blue, he wore black. A stark contrast from anyone in the room- he was expected to stick out like a sore thumb. But somehow, he fit right in.

Mingling with others around him, his friends and the bartender when he needed another beer- reading lips over the loud thud of the heavy bass in the club. The bright lights flashed across the room, illuminating pockets and spreads of people from all over Gotham, coated in their daddy’s money- the pink and blue hues catching the glimmer of their diamonds.

But none of them shined as bright as you.

There you were- the spotlight of his eye from where you danced in front of him. You were oblivious, of course- a drink in your hand as you closed your eyes and leaned your head against what he presumed was one of your friends as you swayed your hips to the music.

He couldn't look away.

The way you moved was entrancing.

Not a diamond or emerald on your body, and yet- you seemed to be worth more than anyone at this posh, frat-boys, daddy’s money club.

Was it because you seemed different? Maybe.

Dick Grayson had his fair share of flings and one night stands in his time- but you made him want to try a new approach. Something more than just buying you a drink and taking you home.

And he wasn't sure if that pleased something in him- or terrified him.

There you were, in your sexy little skirt, something resembling go-go boots giving you spunk in your step, with each twirl and spin you did. He bit his lip, body becoming tense all over as he allowed the dirty, sinful thoughts of what he wanted to do to cloud his mind, like the haze that hung over the crowd.

That skirt alone had sent him reeling, clinging onto his self control he had suddenly seemed to lose as he thought of how sweet you’d taste under it.

How soft your thighs would be when he placed sloppy kisses across them,tugging your panties to the side before diving in fully- how sweet you’d taste.

And the little noises you’d make as he savoured you- an extra little whine and squeal as he’d tug on your precious little clit… Fuck.

He closed his eyes, fully tuned out of the conversation Tim was currently trying to have with him and the rest of the group, gripping his beer tight enough the glass started to crack.

He wondered if you’d be shy in bed, or a challenge. Either way- he was eager to find out.

He could always coax the shy ones, or tame the feisty ones. None of them would compare to you, though. He could feel it.

“... Dude. Dick. Are you with us?” a voice called, Tims eyebrows raised in concern, zoning in on his face that seemed tense. “Yeah, yeah man fuck sorry. Just got distracted.”

His eyes followed Dicks gaze- where you stood, mouthing the words to some Charli XCX song with your friends, giggling like schoolgirls.

A little whistle left his lips as he found Dicks line of attack, a smirk on his face. “You did good man. All is forgiven.”

Dick snarled as he patted his back, making the rest of the guys chuckle. “Don’t test me Drake. Seriously.”

Tim threw up his hands in mock defense, that same smirk plastered across his face. He always tried to get under Dicks skin. And Dick hated when it worked.

He was a possessive man- not so materialistic wise (though he did have a pretty penny), but when it came to you? It was as if the world had suddenly stopped spinning on its axis. He didn't even know your name.

He was fucking whipped.

“You gonna go talk to her with your rich boy charm, or are you gonna keep staring like some fuckin creep?”

“I’m trying to engage in a conversation, so I’d rather observe. Thanks though.” Dick mumbled, nursing his drink.

He hadn't studied you enough yet from the sidelines. He didn't need any surprises.

“If by conversation you mean staying silent like always while you act all vigilant like- you’re doing great.” one of the guys joked, and he couldn't help but roll his eyes.

“Seriously man, if you don't go for her- I might.”

The stare he sent Tims way was enough to silence him mid sentence, pursing his lips before taking a swig of his own drink. “Jesus man I’m kidding. But go get your girl. She's getting away.”

His eyes snapped back to where you stood, but all there was was a flurry of motion. You slipped through the crowd, smiling softly to everyone you passed by, so innocent and sweet it made him dizzy with want.

Without a word, he chugged the rest of his drink, slinking after you like a minx. “And don't just follow her like some stalker dude!” a voice behind him called, that he so conveniently ignored.

Cracking his knuckles, he glared at a frat boy who eyed you up and down after you passed him, fighting back an audible growl at the man. He had to calm himself the fuck down. It's not like you were his, not yet anyways- and he truly had no business being all up in your business.

But those nagging thoughts were dialed down in his brain as he watched you slip out of the club's doors, past the bouncers and line up outside- as if he turned down a volume knob.

He had to follow you. It wasn't safe alone at night, not for you, anyways.

When he had you under his wing, he’d never let this happen again.

Why the fuck werent your friends leaving with you? Were they really your friends?

He had to have this talk with you later on. It wasn't cool they were just letting you leave at- he checked his watch, just after midnight on a Friday night.

Baring the constant Gotham chill, he kept his distance (and failed), blending in with the night. He wanted to scream at you, look! See how easy this is for me? Just to sneak up on you like this, practically breathing in the smell of your perfume?

But he kept his mouth shut, frightening anyone who looked in your direction.

To everyone else, he appeared like some deranged bodyguard. To you- well you were truly oblivious. Humming a tune he had heard early at the club, you skipped along the sidewalk, creating a vomit trail of rainbows, sparkles and kitties wherever your boots touched.

It was like the clouds had parted just for you, moonlight shining down on your hair. It made something flutter in his stomach.

Butterflies? No, it couldn't be. Butterflies had never taken flight in his stomach, only bats. Cold, dark bats that churned with anxiety.

But a weight seemed to be lifted as he watched over you, protecting you from perceived threats. This just made sense to him. To be watching over you like this.

It felt right.

He stopped, watching as you opened the door that housed a cozy, dimmed cocktail bar. The smell of vanilla and soft cashmere enveloped his senses, disappearing as fast as it came when the glass door fell shut.

He stood, waiting.

After a minute, he decided. He needed another drink, it seemed.

--------------------------------------------------- 

You had walked to the first place you could think of. Tommy’s, on 56th and 8th. It was perfect, a five minute walk from the club you were desperately trying to escape.

The thudding music and sardine of bodies was fun- until it wasn't. You had quickly grown tired of the buzz, your head pumping as hard as the base from the drinks and people.

You much preferred the quiet hum of people that chatted at their tables in the bar, soft jazz music playing from the speakers.

You were out of place in your outfit- but you couldn't care less. You needed quiet, and alone time.

You waved cheerfully at the bartender on shift- Carter. You knew him from the few times you had stopped by, and he was always so sweet.

Your friends all told you he was flirting and you were just oblivious to it- but you disagreed. He was just being sweet, probably because you tipped him well- with what little money you had. Tonight was no different than any other, he dropped everything he was doing to come over to you with a smile plastered on his face as you slid up on the barstool, letting your feet dangle.

“Hi Carter.”

“Hi, you. Regular?” You nodded, watching as he got to work, grabbing the vodka and orange triple sec. You let your gaze wander over to the mirror behind him, resting your head in your hand as you noted your smeared lipgloss and the raindrops that had soaked through your white sleeves.

You were distracted though from nitpicking your appearance too much- as you eyes darted over to the hunk of a man who lingered in the shadows behind you.

The bar was dimmed already, candlelights flickering on each table illuminating an eerie glow- and the soft spotlights under the bar didn’t add much. But he stood out, somehow to you.

His hard, dark eyes were staring at you, as if he were trying to figure you out.

Your gaze met his in the reflection, and his instantly softened, a playful little smile just barely hinting on his face. You felt your cheeks heat and you quickly averted your gaze, before meeting his again.

Now he wore a full smirk. As if you fell right into his trap. Yet, he just watched as you got your cosmo, sipping on it slowly.

The drink was sweet, just as you liked it, and you savoured the taste of citrus on your tongue as you watched Carter tend to the bar, watching his hands quickly fly around all over the place, a hand on a bottle before it was wrapped around a glass, passing it over the counter to anyone who’d come over with a card to swipe.

It was mesmerising, really. But not as mesmerizing as the mystery man's cold, hard demeanour that seemed to linger throughout the room- his attentions directed at you.

It made you squirm, and left a weird, tingly feeling in the pit of your core. You shifted, thighs rubbing together as you finished the last sip of your drink, a soft clink sounding as you slammed it down on the bartop.

Just as you were about to pull out your card from your purse, a low, gruff voice emerged from beside you, a large arm extended with a shiny black amex card glittering in his hand.

The mystery man.

“Just add it under my card. Thanks.” He told Carter, barely sparing him a glance before all his attention was focused on you again.

Carter could hardly sputter a word out before he was shooed- the man fully turned to face you, his large, broad shoulders practically shielding you from anything else but him.

“Wouldn't want a pretty lil thing like you paying, now would we?”

You just stared at him with wide eyes, mouth practically gaping open.

He was beautiful. Even more so up close. The smell of his cologne was intoxicating. You wanted to bury your face into his cashmere sweater and bite his biceps like some teething child.

Woah, okay. Drunk you talking. Pump the breaks.

“Well thank you sir, but I promise you don’t have to do that. I can pay for myself.”

He just laughed.

“Sir? Dont treat me like I’m some old man, bunny. I’m only a few years older than you- if that.”

You looked away, tongue tied and flustered with the way he was staring at you. “I’m so sorry, I was just trying to be polite and jus-”

“Hey, hey I’m just teasing. It’s really cute.”

You giggled as he sat down in the stool beside you, making it look play sized. “So you decided to come over cause we were playing eye tag?”

“Something like that.”

You snorted, toying with the rim of your empty glass. “And here I thought you were coming over to compliment my hair.”

His eyes glimmered with amusement, clearly enjoying your drunken jests.

“I think your hair is lovely.”

“Do you think I’m lovely?”

His eyes darkened with lust, and you watched as he reached for your hand, bringing it to his lips, planting a soft kiss on the skin.

“I think you are divine.”

You giggled. “Are you going to try and kiss me sometime tonight?”

“If you’ll let me.” You pursed your lips together swinging your feet as you thought. You did really wanna kiss him. But you didnt even know his name.

“I’m Dick. Dick Grayson.”

Nevermind, that clears that up.

“Y/N.” You darted your lips, mouth suddenly feeling dry. Hot. Did you want this man to come back with you to your apartment? Yeah, actually- you did.

He seemed nice. You didnt realize you had blurted that outloud until he broke the silence with a loud laugh, practically shaking in his seat.

“You dont just invite a man back to your place because he seems nice, bunny. What if I was dangerous?”

Your eyes widdened. “Are you dangerous?”

He shrugged. “Maybe.”

“You don't seem dangerous. You seem nice. And you smell good. And you paid for my drink, which you did not have to do. So I like you.”

You brought your hands together, jumping up from the stool with a start, wobbling slightly. “Well! I suppose we ought to go explore.” Carter raised his eyebrow, slowly and silently sliding Dicks card back over the counter.

“Carter, it was lovely to see you- as always. My concondalences.” you blew him a kiss, swinging your purse over your shoulder. He contored his face in confusion.

“Condolences? For what?”

“No idea. I guess for being you, and having your life. Goodnight!”

And with that, you left the door swinging on your way out, an extremely stunned looking Carter staring at you from behind the glass pane.

------------------------------------------------

“So, you just get ice cream? No matter the weather?” Dick asked you, taking a lick of his mint chip ice cream you had nagged him to buy, as the two of you made your way back to your apartment.

You looked like a married couple.

It was cold, dark and late, and he had slipped his jacket over your shoulders. It felt like a dress.

But no matter the weather, you got ice cream. There was no need for an occasion. Ice cream should be an everyday occasion, actually.

“The weather doesn't control anything, silly. Same with holidays. Why can’t we celebrate Halloween on a random Tuesday? Makes no sense to me.” You shrugged, licking your cone, ice cream dripping down on your fingers.

You felt Dicks eyes on you as you laughed, smearing soft serve on the tip of your nose. You were nearing your place, and you insisted you wanted Dick to come up with you.

Though you were extremely drunk, you knew he would take care of you. You just had a feeling you couldn't quite shake.

“Have I told you how handsome you are?” you asked, steadying yourself as you clung to his arm, as he guided you up the steps to your building.

You had given him your address, per his request- so he could actually get you home safely instead of just wandering around random streets trying to remember.

“You’ve told me many times tonight. It’s very sweet of you to say, bunny.”

“Kay. Just wanted to make sure you knew.”

He couldn't help but laugh, watching as you tried to search for your keys with one hand. He reached in his pocket, the jangling of your pink keychains capturing your attention immediately.

“How did you get those?”

“You gave them to me, remember?”

You shook your head.

“Oh bunny. What are we gonna do with you?” he tsked, clucking his lips as he took the last bite of his ice cream before unlocking the door, following you up the stairs to your place.

Honestly, he was beyond blessed you had captured his eye tonight- because he didn't even want to think about how you'd get home. You were too trustworthy, too sweet and kind to anyone who “seemed nice”.

He was pretty sure if he told Tim you said he “seemed nice” he would have a laughing fit so hard he’d die from asphyxiation. But here was now, to protect you, and to keep you safe from your own nativity.

He’d teach you how you should behave. With him, only trusting him. Other people would just take advantage of you.

“We’re here!” you smiled, taking the last bite of your ice cream cone, chewing happily as the waffle cone seemed to melt in your mouth.

“You should be a doorman, handling my keys and stuff. Do they do that?”

“No idea. But I don't think you should be giving anyone your keys but me. Got it?”

You nodded, leaning against the doorframe as he (once again) unlocked your door, leading you inside your own apartment.

“Thanks for taking care of me Dickie. I really, really appreciate it.” you slurred, stumbling in as he found the lightswitch, flickering the lights on.

He smiled to himself as he looked around, your apartment being so very you- and so against him. It was soft and light, gentle shades of pink and white, with bows and frills galore. Little trinkets were scattered around, with magnets on the fridge.

It looked- lived in.

He felt like he was home, and he had been in here for less than five minutes. Or maybe that was just you- amplified times a million. Everything smelt like you, reminded him of your bubbly personality- it was impossible not to marvel.

You plopped yourself on the couch, somehow toppling over the back so your legs were sprawled like a newborn fawns in the air.

He tried so hard not to look as your skirt rose up, giving him the perfect view of your dainty little panties that made him hard as a fucking rock.

He shut his eyes, taking a deep breath before approaching you, towering over the side of the couch as his fingers found the zippers to your boots.

”Let's get these off now, okay pretty girl?”

“Mhgm” was all you could mutter out as he began to slowly work them off your feet, setting them down on the floor neatly, so they wouldn't be a tripping hazard in the morning.

“You wanna get to bed silly?”

“Mghm. I’m sleeping here- can’t move. Too weak.” you murmured, hand flung over your eyes, hiding from the light. He chuckled.

“Too weak eh? Such a lil thing, aren't cha?” he taunted, wasting no time to get you into his arms, carrying you like a princess to the room he presumed was your bedroom.

You barely let out a protest, quickly nuzzling into his chest as he took careful steps, trying not to rock you.

“Can just pick you up so easily. You’re such a pretty girl.” he smiled, planting a kiss to your head, before setting you down on the bed.

“Can you stay?” you asked, reaching out to grasp his hand, curling it around his finger. He nodded.

“Of course, bunny. Let me just get you some water, okay?”

You nodded, mumbling incoherent phrases as he made his way over the scattered clothes (and thongs) on your bedroom floor, back out to the kitchen.

What would Tim make of all of this shit? He thought to himself as he grabbed a glass, filling it with cold water from the fridge.

He wouldn't believe him, if Dick told him. Here he was, caring for you like you were his girlfriend, and to be honest, in Dicks mind- you already were his.

You were so different, he just couldnt explain it. So no, he didnt want just a quick drunk fuck to get off- he wanted to care for you, to make sure you were tucked in bed safely.

His heart had gone soft, it seemed- he chuckled to himself as he made a quick trip to the bathroom, opening cupboards above the sink to fish for some advil.

You’d definitely need this.

“I’m back, bunny. See? I'm not leaving.” he smiled softly as you stirred, rubbing your eyes. He set the glass and meds down on your nightstand, brushing your exposed shoulder softly.

“I brought some meds okay? Let's take them now, so it's not as bad in the morning.”

You nodded, but made no movement to get up and take them yourself. Your brain was fuzzy and the room seemed to spin.

Sensing this, he slowly guided you to sit up, hand cradling your back as he placed the pills in your mouth, tilting your head back slowly to get you to swallow with water.

“Atta girl, there we go. Did you swallow?” he asked, and you stuck out your tongue, showing the pills were gone.

The action alone sent his thoughts completely in the other direction, and he cursed himself for it. He’d have to relieve himself before bed tonight, in your bathroom.

Oh well.

“Good girl. Let's get some sleep now, okay?”

“Okay. Gnight Dickie.” you smiled softly to yourself as you slumped back onto the bed, passed out in seconds. He sighed as he stood back up to his full height, watching your hands grip the sheets as you dozed.

Sleeping in those clothes couldn't be comfortable, but he didn't want to remove anything without you being conscious, or giving full consent. So for now, he’d leave them.

He was sure he’d hear all about it the next morning, how you couldn't sleep in outdoor clothes on the bed- or whatever shit girls always said- but it was worth keeping his distance, and hearing the bickering.

His phone buzzed- Tims contact flashing across his screen.

Tim: Well? You get lucky?

He smirked to himself.

Dick: Something like that. I’m taking the couch tonight.

He threw his phone somewhere in the cushions as he grabbed a blanket, stripping down to his boxers.

He had one last trip before bed, and his cock seemed to be reminding him like a snoozed alarm every two minutes. When he finally managed to slip to the bathroom and seek his much needed relief- all he could do was stare at himself in the mirror, his hands gripping the sink.

Dick Grayson had gone soft.

And the worst part? He fucking loved it.

[vmlnrzmp4]

𝘣𝘭𝘶𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘬 𝘥𝘢𝘥𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘥𝘰𝘤𝘵𝘰𝘳 𝘸𝘪𝘧𝘦.

requested by: @illyria2004

itoshi sae

"tadaima~" you say tiredly and quietly, hoping that your family is asleep. instead you were greeted with with little natsuki running up to you and hugging your waist before you could even enter the house, "you're awake princess," tho tired, you pick her up, showering her face with kissys to make it up for not being there for her for the day.

"welcome home," sae said nonchalantly—tho there was a hint of annoyance—as he takes natsuki from your tired self, "you're late."

"duty calls," you take your shoes off and enter the house. natsuki wiggles out of her papa's hold and runs to bring you a glass of cold water, "thank you, princess~"

"ma, play dolls with me!" she says enthusiastically but a yawn betrays her, "i waited the whole day for you!"

"tomorrow," sae says, "ma is tired now. and so are you," his words were firm but it was also an excuse that said: its my turn to spend time with your ma.

you knelt to her level, holding her chubby face in your hands as you promise that you'd play barbie dolls with her all day tomorrow. you pinky promise. and give her millions of kissys—ok not millions—all of them on her chubby little face. "off to bed now. go go go~"

she yawns again, getting a kissy from her papa as well before she runs off to her bed.

"you spoil her so much with your kissys."

"she deserves them," you say, getting up as you smile up at him which gets him so so annoyed because then that makes him hug you from behind, kissing your nape as he whispers:

"spoil me too."

itoshi rin

"oh no," a message dings up your phone, "i've to go," you say, getting up as you rush to grab your coat.

"...but you just got back." rin looks at you, pausing the horror movie that both him and sakura were watching on the couch.

"i know but," you hastily wear the coat, "duty calls."

both of them get up, rin almost glaring at you, "you always do this..." he mumbles, "always leaving us behind."

"itoshi rin, are you sulking?" you tease—trying to lighten up the mood but failing. sakura runs up to you, hugging your waist, telling you not to leave.

you crouch to her level, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, "i'll be back before you know it," to make it up—you place so many kissys on her face, making her pout disappear as she bursts into little giggles.

you hear a small 'hmph' from your husband. standing up, you make your way towards your him, "riiiin~" you tilt your head, teasing him with a smile but he simply looks away. "i'll be back soon hmn?"

"you always say that."

"it's not that, rin. it's just—"

"i get it. you've to save lives." he sulks, "go."

you grin, placing a quick kissy on his cheek, making his cheeks go pink, "be home soon."

"i will," you pick up your bag, ruffling sakura's hair, "ma loves you."

"sakura loves you too ma!"

you give her a small smile before heading towards the door. you turn to your husband one last time. i love you. you whisper, making his cheeks heat up more as he runs a hand across his face.

isagi yoichi

"papa! look what i learnt!" little yuki says as she runs to her papa who was watching a soccer match on the tv—now attention fully on his princess.

"whatcha learnt, yuki?"

yuki wore your lab coat, along with fake stethoscope and a doctor's cap, "first, im gonna treat teddy chan's booboo."

"oh no," her papa says, turning the tv off, "what happened to teddy chan?"

"wound," she says, "while playing soccer. but is okie! 'm here!" yuki tends to teddy chan's booboo on his leg, "ma said to wrap it tight, but not too tight."

yoichi chuckles, "all done?"

"not yet!" yuki says, placing teddy chan down, "now i'll show you cpr."

"cpr?" yoichi says, amused, "you know cpr?"

"mhm!" yuki hums, checking teddy chan if he's breathing or not. not breathing, "i'll show you now..." yuki places both her hands on teddy chan's chest, pressing down with her strength, "one, two, three..."

after performing cpr, she pats teddy chan's head, "all done! he can play soccer now!"

yoichi claps, genuinely impressed, "wah~ the operation was successful."

"tadaima~"

"ma!" yuki calls excitedly as you immediately rush to her to shower her with kissys, kissing your husband's cheek too so he doesn't feel neglected.

"doctor yuki tend to teddy chan's booboo," he says, "and performed cpr."

"mhm!" yuki cheers, "im gonna be like ma when i grow up! and play soccer like papa!"

"perfect," yoichi picks up his daughter, "best or both worlds."

michael kaiser

"papa...papa wake up," anne's little arms shake her papa's sleeping form, desperatly trying to wake him up. michael stirs, his arm reaching out to the side of the bed which was unfortunately empty.

he rubs his eyes, turning to face his daughter, "what is it princess?"

"mama still working," she pouts, "kitchen table."

michael sits up, looking at anne whos bottom lip was jutted out, "'m worried, papa."

michael gets up, putting on a robe as he picks his daughter up, making way to the kitchen where he sees you working on the medical charts in the dim light.

"angel," he calls, making you look up, "come to bed."

"just 10 minutes more," you say, going back to the charts, "i need to finish this."

michael places anne down as she immediately runs to you, pulling on your sleeve, "i miss you ma. wanna eep with you and papa today please."

you exhale, flashing her a small smile, "count 10 minutes, ma promises she'll be there. me and papa will give you lots of cuddles."

"you've been saying that," michael interrupts, "it's never 10 minutes."

"michael, please understand—"

"10 minutes," he halts you, "and that's final. c'mon anne."

while you work, your daughter and husband wait in the living room.

"papa," anne calls, pointing at the clock, "10 minutes done," she says sleepily as he hums.

both of them make way to the kitchen, seeing you already asleep uncomfortablebly by the table, "y/n..." he runs his hand through his hair.

"papa," anne tugs on his robe, "ma fall asleep."

"ma works too much," he says, making his way towards you, "she's too hard on herself." he says, placing a kissy on your temple, he couldn't help it.

you lightly stir, "i fell asleep...on no..."

"no more of it angel," michael picks you up with ease, "no more work."

"mihya no—"

"mihya yes," he says carrying you.

"papa strong!" anne giggles as she follows, "ma promised cuddles!"

"that right, she did," he carries you to bed, "and im gonna make sure she keeps her promise."

you exhale, knowing you can't win against them.

michael carefully places you on the bed, anne crawling between the two of you as her papa pulls blanket over the three of you. michael places a kissy on his daughter's forehead as well as yours as the three of you cuddle.

"love you papa, love you ma."

"love you my princess, my angel."

taglist: @anuverse @luciddre @kongkhoi @illyria2004 [open]