#but i finally figured out how to do this one!!

[casssmalefantasy]

hiii can i request a fic where paige has a series of bad games and reader tries to comfort her but paige lashes out at her including saying she doesn’t understand cause she isn’t an athlete which is already a an insecurity of hers to be dating a high profile athlete and feeling like there’ll always be a part of paige she’ll never be privy to, so reader she up crying and walking out which makes paige come to her senses but reader isnt answering calls and messages so paige spends the next days groveling please and thank you

THE QUIET PART - PAIGE BUECKERS X OC

I synopsis: paige comes home carrying more than she can hold. you try to help. she pushes too hard. now you’re both figuring out what it means to stay.

| warnings: emotional conflict, hurt/comfort, one-sided argument, feelings of emotional dismissal, crying, soft angst with resolution, and lots of feelings.

I word count: 1.9k

I author's note: hopefully you like this!! thank you for the request ♥️

──────────────────────

the door slams harder than it should.

keys clatter on the counter like they’ve been thrown, not dropped, and it’s the kind of sound that echoes too long in a space meant to be quiet. you glance up from the couch, halfway through some comfort rewatch you weren’t even paying attention to. the tv hums behind you like static.

you expect to hear a soft hey, or even just the weight of her footsteps toward you. but paige doesn’t say anything.

she walks straight past. her sneakers squeak once on the floor before they disappear into the bedroom. not even a glance.

you blink. sit up. the silence stretches.

this isn’t her.

you don’t hesitate long. the bath you’d been running in your head as your future reward for a long day suddenly feels too far away. you pad barefoot across the apartment and stand in the doorway of her room.

she’s halfway through pulling her sweatshirt off. there’s a tension in her shoulders you don’t like. when she yanks the hoodie off, she tosses it onto the edge of the bed—not careless, but not careful, either. like she’s too full of something she doesn’t want to carry anymore.

“paige?” you ask, soft.

she pauses.

turns. finally. slowly.

and you hate the look in her eyes—not because she’s mad, but because she’s gone. like something’s been gnawing at her and she let it in too deep. like she doesn’t know how to talk to you with it sitting in her chest.

“talk to me,” you say gently.

she breathes out a bitter, frustrated laugh. “there’s nothing to talk about.”

you step closer.

you reach for her arm. not fast, not forceful, just soft—just trying to ground her, just trying to remind her you’re here.

but she flinches like it stings. like your touch is too much.

“can you not do this right now?” she snaps. “i don’t want to talk, okay?”

you freeze.

her voice isn’t raised—but it’s tense, high-strung, breaking at the edges.

she exhales, sharp and frustrated, stepping away from you. like she needs more room to breathe, or maybe to break.

“do you even understand how hard this is?” she says. “i came here straight from uconn. i’ve never dealt with losing like this. not this much. loss after loss, and i know what we’re capable of. i know we can win, but then we don’t, and there’s nothing i can do about it.”

you stay quiet.

her hands move—into her hair, then tugging at the edge of her shirt, then down again. she’s restless. spiraling.

“i work my ass off and it still isn’t enough. and everyone keeps acting like it’s fine because i’m paige fucking bueckers and i’ll figure it out eventually, but what if i don’t? what if this is just who i am now?”

you try again.

“i do get it. i might not be on the court, but i—”

“no i don’t think you do,” she says, quieter now, but not softer. “you’re not an athlete. you don’t… you don’t know what this feels like.”

and maybe what hurts the most is that you do— not the training or the noise of the court, but the weight she carries afterward. you’ve sat in silence next to her after games, handed her a protein shake she didn’t touch. you’ve folded her jerseys and tucked sticky notes into her gym bag that just said, proud of you, always. you’ve loved her through bruises and exhaustion and late-night replays. and still—none of it mattered. not to her. not tonight.

the silence is sharp.

it hits like the end of a dream. or a free fall. or something cracking in your ribs.

you don’t say anything right away. you can’t.

because it’s not just what she said—it’s the way she said it. like you’ve been trying so hard to show up in all the ways you can, and none of it mattered. like you’ve been loving her from the quiet, watching her come apart, and it still wasn’t enough to be seen.

you freeze.

and for the first time, you feel the tears sting behind your eyes.

your voice comes out small. wounded.

“wow.”

her head snaps up, and the regret’s already flickering in her eyes, but it’s too late.

you step back.

“i’ll get out of your way, then.”

“wait, baby—”

but you’re already turning. your throat’s tight. the living room feels too small. the whole apartment does.

you stop at the edge of the couch. your keys in one hand. her hoodie in the other. the one from uconn, soft with wear, smelling like detergent and her valentina fragrance.

you don’t know why you grab it. maybe because it’s hers. maybe because it still smells like her. maybe because your hands need something to hold besides your heart.

you don’t look at her. not once and for a second, you consider staying. saying something back. or nothing at all.

but you know if you stay, you’ll cry.

and tonight, you don’t want to be soft in front of her. not after that.

your phone’s in your hand before you even realize what you’re doing.

you text dijonai.

you

hey. can i come over for a bit? just need a second.

nai

ofc. everything okay?

you

just had a thing with paige. it’s fine. just need air.

nai

come thru. door’s unlocked.

you don’t look back.

your phone vibrates halfway through the elevator ride.

paigeyyy 💗

where are you? please answer.

i didn’t mean it like that. i’m sorry.

please just tell me you’re okay.

you don’t open them.

—

nai doesn’t ask questions.

she just opens the door in sweats and a bonnet, gives you a long look, and says, “blanket’s on the couch. you want tea or tequila?”

“tea,” you whisper, voice wrecked.

she nods. disappears into the kitchen.

when she returns with two mugs, she sits beside you without pushing. doesn’t say what happened? or why’d she say that? or do you wanna talk? she just hands you the tea and leans her shoulder against yours.

you could cry just from that.

she glances at your phone once when it lights up on the coffee table.

more missed calls, another “please” from paige

you don’t reach for it.

“you want me to tell her you’re okay?” nai says quietly.

you nod.

your throat’s too tight to speak.

she types something, slides her phone face-down.

lets you breathe.

you fall asleep curled on her couch, wrapped in paige’s hoodie like muscle memory.

—

back at home, paige’s apartment is too quiet.

she stands in the hallway for ten minutes staring at the door after you leave.

then she tries calling you.

once.

twice.

again.

she doesn’t mean to start crying, but she does.

it hits her like a crash—the weight of what she said. the way you looked at her like she’d just proven your worst fear right. the hoodie gone.

she can’t sit still. she paces the bedroom. opens and closes her notes app. starts to write something—erases it.

tries a voice memo.

records it. re-records it.

finally sends the third one.

paigeyyy 💗

0:56

it’s just her voice, shaky and wrecked.

“i didn’t mean it. god, i didn’t mean any of it. i’m sorry. i’m so sorry. i don’t know what’s wrong with me but i know i never want to make you look at me like that again. please come home. please.”

she sits on the floor by the bed with her arms around her knees and stares at the door.

you’re her calm. her constant. her tether to the part of herself she likes best.

and she just shoved you away.

—

paige still can’t sleep.

it’s currently 2AM and the sheets feel too cold without you. her hands feel empty.

her mind replays every second of your argument a few hours ago like a highlight reel in reverse—what she said, how she said it, the look on your face after.

her guilt is bone-deep.

she gets sits up and paces once around the apartment before sitting on the edge of the bed. your pillow still smells like your shampoo.

she closes her eyes and breathes it in like a prayer.

maybe you’re gone for real. maybe this time, she pushed too far.

the hoodie you left behind is still on the floor. she picks it up. hugs it to her chest.

so when she wakes up—or doesn’t, really—and hears the hum of the fridge and the quiet clink of a glass cup, she thinks she’s dreaming.

she sits up slowly. heartbeat stuttering.

she finds you standing at the counter, back to her, pouring coffee into one of the mugs you brought from your dorm. the one with the chipped edge.

“hey,” she says, soft. broken. barely above a whisper.

you turn around.

her eyes are red. her voice sounds like it hasn’t worked right since last night.

she sees the hoodie still on you and it makes her crumble a little.

“i’m sorry,” she says, immediately. “i didn’t mean what i said. i was scared and insecure and i lashed out. and that’s not fair to you. you’ve been everything. you always are.”

you nod, slowly.

“you really hurt me,” you whisper.

her face breaks.

“i know,” she says. “and i hate myself for it.”

you let her words settle. then say, “i know i’m not a teammate. i know i don’t run plays or drop stats or sit in on film. but i see you. i’ve always seen you. and that should’ve been enough.”

paige steps forward, slow like she’s afraid she’ll scare you off.

“i know,” she says. “and you’re right. i just… i didn’t know where to put it all. the pressure, the disappointment, the noise in my head.”

she swallows.

“you’ve been my quiet in all of this. and i… pushed you away.”

you nod.

“yeah.”

“i love you,” she says. “more than basketball. more than winning. you’re the thing i’m proudest of.”

that’s what breaks you.

your throat tightens again—but this time it’s not from hurt.

“you’re just not allowed to say i don’t get it,” you whisper. “not when i see you. all of you.”

she steps closer. still slow. still cautious.

“can i hold you?”

you nod.

she crosses the room in three steps, and suddenly she’s there—arms around your waist, face buried in your neck, whole body dropping into yours like she’s letting herself be safe again.

you exhale into her shoulder. close your eyes.

“don’t do that again,” you whisper.

“i won’t,” she murmurs. “i swear. you’re the best thing in my life.”

you kiss her temple.

she kisses the inside of your wrist.

“come home?” she asks.

you glance around. technically you’re already here.

but you know what she means.

“yeah,” you say. “okay.”

and for the first time in twenty-four hours, both of you breathe like you believe you’re allowed to.

—

you’re on the couch, her head in your lap, your fingers in her hair. the tv’s on, but neither of you are watching.

her hand finds yours. she holds it like a lifeline.

you trace soft letters on the back of her palm— just little things.

L, then O, then V.

you don’t finish the word.

you don’t have to. she squeezes your hand like she feels it anyway.

she kisses your wrist like she’s saying sorry again.

and in that moment—it doesn’t matter if she wins or loses the next game.

you’re here.

and she knows it.

and this—this is the part the world never sees.

but it’s the part that saves her, every time.

[salemisha]

how i manifested my mother cancer away + shifted and more through non-dualism/no concepts.

im writing this post for those who feel alone who feel like they have gotten minimal results and have been trying for years. before learning of non dualism, then no concepts, etc and the rest is history.

because i was like you. i used to cry whine and complain and be bitter that this person shifted and yet i didnt, used to take numerous breaks etc. i knew of LOA since 2018, but learned of loablr in 2023. i joined during the states vs affirmation bullshit (still think both is dumb) and the edward art shit and i was desperate to find answers. none of it helped. and i grew more and more angry desperate. i gave up on loa, and was depressed for months.

things changed in late 2023 when i came back from the aftermath of the 4dbarbie nondualism vs LOA war? everyone kept saying nondualism is the same as states and other shit and at first i thought it was right, but i was desperate and so i looked into nondualism.

in the back of my mind i kept thinking "yeah this dumb asf lol" but still i was on the urge of ending it all. i read, overconsumed, and read some more and then thought it was too much and also gave up on it.

and then may 2024 the worst month of my life. my mom was diagnosed with peritoneal carcinomatosis. lord i cried so hard at the thought of losing my mom, even getting a little teary eyed typing this. but i had nothing and no one to turn to and so i turned back to nondualism and the books that were recommended by blogs.

and so i did. i wont say it was easy, letting go of the thoughts of her having it, allowing it to be the thoughts feelings and emotions and being scared that she did have it. not arguing against it, not affirming, or visualizing that she has it but allowing the thoughts to be.

i wanted to manifest an early appointment because i was scared she didnt have long. but i knew that this was simply fear and allowed it to be, for days and weeks, until finally i had the thought that she would be fine either way. and literally let it go completely.

next day i got the appointment i wanted. this was the first major sign of manifesting. like my first time manifesting something major. and i applied what i did to "manifesting" ( read letting go of identification with thoughts) that my mom didnt have cancer and she was fine. this one was harder with many tests and biopsies and people saying one thing and the other but i had no one else to turn to but myself and those books.

and she was fine.

ever since i manifested other things like:

shifts (shifted to an old scrapped dr that maybe i will expand on one day) and other random realities (yes it was intentional to test myself).

i also manifested my ac central unit being fixed without having to pay 8k to replace the entire unit.

good grades and more.

i wont say i fully scorched my mind of limitations, but i will say that im in a far better place than i was before learning of nondualism.

anyways my point of this post is that just keep going, you will find what works for you. it might take some time but you will figure it out somehow some way. if my negative ass mind could do these things yall can too. dont sell yourself short.

[dcxdpdabbles]

Can we have more Tim falls for Tucker's "spouse" Danny

I'm going to be honest with you: I originally intended this fic idea to be a comedy, but I couldn't figure out how to execute it when I attempted to write it, which is why it ended up in the 'From a fic I never wrote' pile. Now that I have attempted to write it out, it turned more into humor angst? Or, Tim being sad while in Danny's POV, it's him and Tucker committing marriage fraud. Hope the change isn't too bad!

Tim has to bite his tongue when Foley once again agrees to go out for drinks with the team, as everyone is heading out for the day. It was the third weekend in a row, and really, how could he leave his husband home alone on a Friday night so often?

If Tim were married to a man like Daniel Fenton, he would never miss dinner or a night in. He would certainly not waste it trying to kiss up to some higher up the way Foley was so blatantly doing.

Tim had half the mind to grab the mid-level employee by the shoulders and scream at him that a promotion wasn't worth his marriage failing. Make him realize what he had before it was all gone.

For all of Tim's jealousy that Tucker Foley was the one married to a man who literally walked out of Tim's dreams, he didn't dislike Foley at all.

The man was charming, eager to work, and excited to prove himself. He never slacked off; he always kept on top of his deadlines, was friendly with his coworkers, and was always on time. Really, the only trouble that Foley had caused was his rivalry with Tammy Johnson from Accounts.

Apparently, the two hated each other on sight, and there was no real reason for it. Tim had a personal theory that Foley's sarcasm clashed heavily with Johnson's no-nonsense way of work. Johnson was exceptionally good at her job, but she tended not to get along with her coworkers because she took everything too literally and often confused a joke for an insult.

Johnson also became incredibly defensive, building up a wall after a perceived offense was made, and spent the rest of her time working with the offender in a passive-aggressive manner.

She also made comments here and there that hinted at her less-than-accepting point of view of the LGBT+ community. Nothing that Tim could drag her to HR for, but certainly something to keep an eye on.

That's why he jumped in so quickly when he overheard Foley and her arguing over their disagreement about the stick tower design at the last all-staff training retreat. He had heard Johnson rip into Foley, taking apart every one of his suggestions, with complete condescension and a bit of mockery until Foley's tired voice rang out.

"Is it because I'm gay, Tammy?"

Tim thought he finally had a chance to get her in some kind of trouble, but Foley had shut that down quickly. After explaining that the question was more internet humor than anything Johnson could have said, Tim found that he couldn't make the guy stop talking. Foley, it seemed, tended to ramble when panicked or nervous.

Meeting and speaking with the CEO tended to make many employees nervous.

Foley babbled on and on about his husband, how they were childhood friends who turned into sweethearts and then married, living the dream in the big city of Gotham with such devotion and love. Tim couldn't help but extend an invitation to bring the man around the office. He did it mostly to watch Johnson's already tight lips press harder into a straight line.

Then he met Daniel Fenton, and he realized the rambles of Foley weren't told from the rose-colored lens of a man in love but a perfect description of his husband.

Fenton was gorgeous in a soft kind of way, like a first blooming, a lot quieter than his husband, but intelligence danced in his eyes just the same. He was quick with witty responses, sarcastic in a more teasing way than Foley's, and when he spoke of his passions, he all but seemed to glow.

The first time Tim spoke to Fenton, the man was lost in the hallway leading to Foley's old office. At the time, the entire IT department had been relocated three floors up due to a leaking pipe in the ceiling of the previous floor.

Foley had failed to inform his partner that the offices were in a temporary location, so he was more than happy to bring Fention to the correct location.

Fenton had gifted him with a dazzling smile once Tim offered to walk him in the elevator, and had easily chatted with Tim enough so that the young CEO had nearly burst a gut, laughing at the other man's jokes.

He told Foley to invite his husband to more company events, and the other must have taken that as permission to have Fenton around as much as possible. Tim had more encounters with Fenton when the man showed up with pastries for Foley's office, when the team would go out drinking, or even just seeing Danny hanging around the lobby waiting for Foley to finish.

Five months passed before Tim could not deny it any longer. He had fallen for Fenton, the husband of one of his employees.

It was torture how often Fenton was around, but it wasn't like he didn't have the time. Fenton didn't have a formal job.

Apparently, he lived off his inheritance from a distant uncle named Pariah Dark and was more than happy to be a house husband who did random hobbies. One of those hobbies included baking.

Tim thinks he had a crush on Fenton for a while up until then, but he might have actually fallen in love when he tried one of Fenton's homemade donuts. Like an idiot, he kept asking Foley to bring Fenton around, because in those few hours or minutes of networking (for that was what Foley was doing. The man was ambitious) Tim could admire him, could listen to his voice, and could pretend- in the darkest corners of his heart- that his love for Fenton wasn't wrong.

He knew it was. Foley may not be a friend, but Tim tried not to be too close to his employee, as that often caused more problems than not. However, Foley was someone he respected. He felt horrible having such thoughts about the man's husband, but his heart yearned for Fenton more than it had ever yearned for anyone else.

This was getting so bad that Tim was making up random events so that Foley would have a reason to bring Fenton to. He even had the team photo, from the last Wayne Enterprises fundraiser for charity, framed and placed on his desk because Fenton was in it, smiling at the camera.

Tim's pathetic excuse that the rest of the employees' families were also present for the fundraiser wasn't a good enough reason to spend hours upon hours wishing that his arm was thrown around Fenton's shoulders in that photo instead of Foley's.

Tim had to stop.

He chose to tell Steph about his feelings for Fenton on the request that she stop him from doing something stupid. As his friend, she vowed to help him out and slowly but surely held him to his word.

Tim hadn't seen Fenton in almost three months, since Steph had started camping out in his office, doing her online classes and keeping an eye on him so Tim couldn't run down the ten floors to IT just to check if Fenton was about. She reminded him that Foley didn't work directly under him and didn't need to have such a close relationship with him, so he limited his interactions with the man as well.

Steph was also the one who held him through his heartbreak. Tim was no cheater, but he was a fool in love with someone who was taken, and it hurt.

It hurt to know that he could never be the one Fenton smiled at, or the one that Fenton lay next to at night, or the one Fenton joked and laughed with, still friends in a marriage.

It hurt to know that a man like Foley, who was sending another "I'm going out with the team for drinks" text as he followed Rico to his car while Tim stood in the lobby watching them go, was the man that Fenton had chosen.

A few minutes go by of him just standing there, thinking of Fenton, all alone, waiting in some living room for a man who didn't even find the effort to call him.

This is stupid. You're being stupid. What does their marriage matter to you? Just go home, Tim. He thinks angrily to himself, opening his umbrella and walking out into the familiar Gotham rain.

The water splashes against the fabric with the same aggression as marbles falling onto concrete. One of Gotham's super storms. He grimaces, gripping the handle harder as he strides down to the dinner at the end of the street.

Despite Tim being able to drive nearly every form of transportation, he had failed to obtain a driver's license, partly due to his secret identity and partly because he was too lazy. As a result, Tim walked everywhere, took the train, or the bus to get around.

He didn't trust people to not kidnap him (attempt to at least), so he never hailed a taxi or used a ride app. Not after it happened five different times. The life of a Wayne could sometimes be too much.

Not that he was willing to walk to the train station or bus stop in this weather.

He'll have a coffee and some food to wait out the rain, but if the storm doesn't improve, he'll have to call the Manor and see if someone can come pick him up.

The door dings when he pushes it through, and a wave of warmth, chatter, and music passes over him. He stops at the stand holding up a sign that reads Please wait to be seated.

He folds his umbrella, shaking out some water, as a waitress comes rushing towards him.

Her hair is falling out a bit from her bun, and she seems a bit stressed, but he can clearly see why. Many people had the idea to hide from the storm in the dining room - not a single table or booth seemed to be free. Even the bar stools were all claimed.

"Hi there!" The waitress greeted with slightly apologetic eyes. "It's going to be a forty-minute wait."

"I don't mind. Can I wait in here?" He smiles, watching her shoulders relax. She must have had someone yell at her today about the wait time. He gets it.

Once he had to go under cover as a waiter himself, and it took every ounce of his Bat training to not throw a tray at some customers' faces. Especially the impatient ones.

"Yeah, of course." The waitress waves to a little area on the side of the door. There are no chairs, and there is barely enough room to stand, but it's better than nothing. "If you give me your name, I can let you know when a table opens up-"

"He can sit with me." A voice interrupts. A familiar voice. Tim's heart leaps in his chest before he can even turn his head in the direction of the man who had spoken.

Daniel Fenton waves at him from one of the tables, smiling widely, over a half-seated plate of pancakes. He's wearing a soft, white, woven sweater, which makes his eyes pop, and his hair is slightly damp, likely from being caught in the rain.

He looks like a painting come to life.

Tim's mouth goes dry.

"Are you okay with that, Sir?" The waitress asks him, but it's Fenton who answers.

"Yeah, of course. I don't think this storm is going to clear any time soon, so I may as well spend it with someone I know." Fenton laughs, and it kicks Tim's brain into action.

"It's fine," He mutters to the waitress who was frowning. "I would be totally fine with sharing that table."

More than fine. Far too fine in fact. The man is married. A voice that sounds a lot like Steph cautions in his head. He ignores it.

"Well, okay then." The waitress leads him to the table, pulling out his seat before handing him a menu she grabbed from the stand at the front. "Can I get you something to drink?"

"Let me guess," Fenton grins, snapping a finger and pointing it at Tim, "A coffee, three creams, two sugars, and a bit of chocolate syrup?"

Surprised, Tim stammers, "Yes, that's right."

Fenton laughs gently before giving the waitress a cheeky little smirk that does horrible things to Tim's already buzzing heart. "He always takes his coffee like that. A creature of habit, you know?"

She flashes a dimple, writing down his drink order. "I'll be back in a few minutes to take the rest of your order."

Tim barely notices her walk away, too captivated by the way Fenton's hair seems to curl slightly when wet. "W-what are you doing here, Mr. Fenton?"

"Tuck and I were supposed to go out for dinner tonight, but he cancelled at the last minute. I got caught in the rain when leaving the lobby, so I figured I may as well have my own dinner." The man reveals casually, as if it were normal for a husband to bail on plans so carelessly.

Tim fights the urge to reach out his hand and place it on Fenton's, wanting to offer comfort in case he was hiding his hurt.

He couldn't stop the words that tumble out of his mouth, though. He winces at the offended tone in his voice. "Your husband cancelled plans on you last minute?"

"Tuck is forgetful. He probably forgot he made plans with me." Fenton shrugs, smile still in place. Tim's stomach flips as the man leans on one hand, attention trained entirely on Tim. "What about you? Why are you here?"

"Hiding from the rain, too. Too heavy to walk home in. "

Fenton frowns. "You don't have a car?"

"I don't have a license." Tim laughs, raising a brow at the disbelief on Fenton's face. "Never bothered to get one. Most people don't in a city, where you can walk or us a bus"

"That's crazy. Back home, everyone had a license. You never get anywhere without one." Fenton reveals.

"You and your husband are from Illinois, right?" Tim hopes Fenton didn't notice how his voice had turned slightly strained on the word' husband'.

"That's right. From the small in the middle of nowhere, Amity Park." Fenton picks up his fork, waving it around slightly. "We have like three restaurants, a small mall, and a park. That's the extent of entertainment, so you've got to drive to do anything. You're not planning on walking in that storm, are you?"

"No, I'll call someone to come pick me up later."

"Nah, that's okay. I'll give you a ride when we finish." Fenton replies easily, stuffing a piece of pancake in his mouth. "I won't take no for an answer. Got nothing better to do anyway."

Tim closes his mouth, having been in the process of denying the offer, and instead raises the menu to hide behind. A flutter goes through his stomach as he realizes that Fenton knows his coffee order because of how often he's seen Tim take it while visiting, and is willing to drive him home.

He doesn't think about Foley. It's a dangerous thing what he does think about, but by the time the waitress comes by to get Tim's order, Fenton has pulled him into a fascinating conversation of old cartoons, and Tim can't find it in himself to care.

Besides, he was only looking. There was nothing wrong with looking.

[rotapathetic]

hii, i don’t know if you take requests but i thought of an idea for twitch streamer rafe >.<

he was mid stream ( early in the morning ) and she walks into his room very quietly, and he doesn’t realise due to his headphones being on, she’s half asleep, wearing just his hoodie, and the chat is currently going wild as they can see snippets of her. ( i hope this is good enough but i love ur au’s so much and ur writing ♡ ♡ )

͏͏͏✧ ྅ ˚ . ᯇ * reader sleepily surprising TWITCH STREAMER!RAFE’S stream ۫ : . 🎧

❛someone just woke up❜ : bold text is stream chat! 💬

STREAMER who tries to be as quiet and gentle as possible for you while streaming

user: what time is it for you

rafe clicked his screen a few times, loading up the game he was playing today before reading the chat. “um. . it’s pretty early. i didn’t start on time yesterday so i wanted to stream longer today to make up for it.”

he was playing a pretty chill game for right now since it was still early and he wanted to warm up to it. he murmured the description to himself, making sure it was the right thing. “yeah, someone recommended this game a couple of streams ago, and i wanted to check it out.”

user: awhh user: someone just woke up

the game loaded, the volume louder than rafe expected. “oh, sorry. let me figure this out.” rafe squinted at his screen, too focused on fixing the loud audio to notice his chat or you behind him, wondering why he was awake so early.

user: isn’t that the hoodie rafe wore yesterday user: rafe!! user: someone tell him his girl is behind him he can’t hear

rafe decided then to glance at the chat, only catching ‘his girl.’ “she’s asleep right now. she’s not usually up this early and i didn’t want to wake her.”

user: well

“okay, i got it. sorry about that,” rafe fixed the volume as you finally reached him, bleary eyed and still half asleep. you tapped his shoulder gently as to not startle him.

he turned, seeing your tired state. he took in his hoodie reaching your mid thigh, your hands hidden by the sleeve length, and plush socked feet. from the shoulders down, his viewers were still able to tell, from the parts of you they saw, that you were tired as well.

“hi,” you whispered, “why are you starting so early?” you asked after rafe removed one ear of his headset from his head to hear you better.

you shuffled on your feet, finding it a little hard to keep stand. rafe noticed, rolling his chair back, allowing you space to climb onto his lap.

user: well he’s not playing the game user: hi!!!! user: my cat is watching btw user: hi cat

you took the invitation, wrapping yourself around rafe as he angled his arms around you to still reach the keyboard. “started early because i started late yesterday. didn’t mean to wake you if i did.”

you shook your head against his neck. “you didn’t. i just noticed you weren’t next to me.”

“’m sorry,” rafe placed a soft peck on your head, getting to the menu of the game.

user: discord must be going crazy user: now you have to be still and quiet

you were already falling back asleep on his chest, content now that you knew what rafe was doing. he put a finger up to his mouth, shushing the viewers.

user: 🤐 user: 🤫 user: don’t mean to be that guy but you can’t hear us

rafe noticed how the audio of the game sounded like soft, lofi ambience. he placed his headphones gently on your head, hoping it would soothe you. he whispered to the chat, “i can’t hear the game now, so if i miss anything, let me know.”

user: no 🥺

[bonus-links]

*waiting eagerly and patiently for directors commentary* :)

IT'S DONE RAHHHHHH ITS FINALLY DONE!!!!!!! I hope you all have enjoyed this chapter but I am REALLY excited to move on to what's next!!!!! i have been waiting literal years to get here,,,,

starting off with a few things: these frames are the same design from pt. 9, just damaged now. it's also uh. literally the same drawings KJSNFKJG listen sometimes I just have to make things easier on myself. also convenient crack through the hero of time's right eye >:-)

okay so the hero of time lore gives me a bit of a headache. let it be known that I understand in wolf's timeline, the events of OOT technically never happened. He knows the "hero of time" moniker bc he's met him, and i could've SWORN that name is mentioned if not somewhere in TP then in the TP manga. suspend ur disbelief for me lol

Anyway the idea is basically that post-game Wolf has done some digging to track down the person the Hero's Shade was when he was alive. I like to imagine he had some kind of bargain with Zelda where if he agreed to come to certain events she'd let him dig around in what survived of the archives after lol. I actually got stuck on this panel for a while trying to think of some other imagery that got this idea across without being so,,,idk on the nose? but i couldn't think of anything so i went with this HAHA. Even if Mask wasn't technically the "hero" in this timeline, I think he still ended up being a prominent figure, and some documentation of him would exist. An unfinished portrait, a text about the history of the royal guard, military records, correspondence between him and the castle, etc.

ALSO ALSO. how do they know they're talking about the same hero of time? well, they don't. they're making an educated guess lol. obviously whoever made this statue of the Hero of Time couldn't make it look exactly like him, but I feel like Wolf has noticed enough similarities between depictions to be like. hey wait a second

wake is trying to give a pep talk here like "come on guys, going on adventures is what we do!!" meanwhile Wolf and Loft are both like. yeah i guess leaving our loved ones behind with little notice to go on dangerous missions we may never return from IS what we do.....

speaking of which Loft is maybe technically being a little bit of a hypocrite here but I really think he's just trying to make sure Wake doesn't make the same mistake he did lol. he's feeling guilty

one of many things I really regret abt this chapter is not having Tetra and Loft have a conversation similar to the one he and BOTW Zelda have. I feel like Tetra's experience of getting to grow up outside of the pressure of the royal family or her role and then basically having it forced on her during the events of WW would be very valuable for him to hear. I had so many things I was trying to juggle this chapter and somehow that just slipped through the cracks 😭 im sorry tetra.

AT LAST!!! ANNA FROM FROZEN!!! when all that was going down a few weeks ago i was like GUYS GUYS WAIT. HE'S ALMOST HERE. does this mean I have to get a new icon now

in case its not clear (and it probably isn't) he's in the ALTTP lost woods!

okay so some of you may have noticed this, but up until now we've basically been following the thread of mainline games, starting where the timeline merged and working our way back to where it split in OOT. ALTTP is technically part of that, as the timeline where the Hero of Time dies. I have them all connected through the Lost Woods. The pitch for this was basically "wouldn't it be so fucking funny if Mage could've joined the story way earlier but didn't bc he was the only one with enough sense and also enough gall to just throw something through it." and then I couldn't NOT do that

so on that note, this is the BOTW lost woods. If you look closely, you can see Wolf in the distance.

I wanted to do something to establish him as a magic user! he could have just pulled these out of his bag but where's the fun in that. you might also notice that he's not wet because the rain isn't actually hitting him

ALTTP ZELDA MY BELOVED!!!! that's all

that's all i've got for now!!! bonus links turned 3 years old 3 days ago which is. wild. thank you all for sticking with this story for so long!!!

[seitmai]

Many thoughts

And the world as he knew it ceased to exist. You stood there with the sweetest smile he had ever seen and he thought his heart would beat right through his chest with how hard it pounded. The feeling only intensified when he looked into your eyes and forgot how to breathe, his stomach filled with so many butterflies that he thought he’d leave the ground. Then he felt like he was falling in slow motion before he came back to himself. It was like the world got a little brighter just because you were standing in front of him. Is this love at first sight?

Oh it sure is 🙂‍↕️🥰

“Oh, good! Is he listening? Hey, what’s your name and what are your intentions with my friend?” Bucky cleared his throat, unable to say what his intentions were deep down. “My name is Bucky Barnes and I’m looking for a roommate. She’ll be perfectly safe here whether she accepts or not,” he said, praying that Alpine liked you enough so you’d move in.

What a way to start this 😂

“I’m sorry,” you mouthed to him. “It’s okay,” he mouthed back. He wasn’t at all offended. You never could tell with strangers and it was nice that you had someone looking out for you.

So true!

“She better be safe!” He tried not to laugh at your friend’s tone. It reminded him of Steve, caring and protective. “Is he hot? He sounds hot.” “You’re on speaker,” you reminded her and Bucky tried to keep a neutral expression because, well, he wanted you to think he was hot. “And, yeah, he’s hot. He’s a real stud muffin. Or stud horse? I don’t know, he’s a stud,” you rambled, your eyes wide like you forgot he could hear you, too.

Whoops, but at least the truth is already out in the open 🤭

“About the stud comments, I… Well. Yeah. I mean… Look at you.” You gestured to him and finally looked his way again, making him smile all over again. “I’m sorry. Sometimes I just… say things and I feel like I just made this weird.” “Hey, it’s fine. I appreciate the compliment,” he said easily when he was doing flips on the inside. “You didn’t make it weird,” he added. Not when he was the one staring at you like a creep.

He is giving it his all to hold it together 🤭

“So, not a terrible first impression?” you asked and he hated how worried you looked .“If anything, it’s a great impression,” he promised you, stepping aside again. He’d be thinking about that compliment and you long after you left.

🥰🥰🥰

Alpine gave your hand a sniff and bumped it with her head before she surprised you both and put her paws on your chest. “I… I think she wants you to pick her up,” Bucky said in awe. She isn’t chasing you off. She likes you. This is good. This is really good. You picked her up without hesitation. “Oh, my goodness. I’m already in love,” you said when she purred and nuzzled close. Was it weird to be jealous of a cat? “You want to do the tour of your home with me?”

Instant bonding with Alpine is the only sign Bucky needs

“I think it looks pretty badass.” There was no judgement in your eyes, only openness when you added, “And I’ll argue with anyone who says otherwise.”

Period 👏🏻

“I’ll have my own bathroom, too?” you asked, brushing past him so you could take a quick look inside. It took all of his strength not to push you against the wall and kiss you, which would’ve probably earned him a slap and a call to your friend. “How has no one snatched this place up yet?” “Al hasn’t been a big fan of anyone, except for you,” he said honestly, looking you over once more.

The only criteria that matters

He was going to fall head over heels if he wasn’t careful. Who was he kidding? It was too late.

Oh he is long gone 🤭

“Could you excuse me for just a second?” you asked, slipping back into the bedroom. He poked his head in and watched as you did a little jig. It was the sweetest thing he had ever seen. “If you haven’t figured it out by now, I’m a huge dork.” “You’re far from that,” he said, leaning on the doorframe. You were perfect in his eyes.

So cute 😍🥰

Orientation

Pairing: Roommate!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky meets his potential new roommate and is immediately smitten.

Word Count: Over 3k

Warnings: Love at first sight, bits of humor, fluff, tension, sweetness, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?)

A/N: Finally sharing Stud meeting Smartie for the first time. ❤️ Beta read by the wonderful @mumbles411 (and thank you for your help and cheering me on), but any and all mistakes are my own. Divided by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky let out a deep breath when he heard the knock at the door and looked at his watch before he went to answer it. Another potential roommate, right on time. He hadn’t initially wanted to rent out the extra room since he could’ve made it work with rent going up, but the budget would’ve been very tight and it was better not to risk it since he loved the place. It would’ve also been nice if Steve or Sam could’ve moved in, but they had their own spaces and the idea of sharing his space with a stranger wasn’t necessarily bad. He just hoped whoever ended up renting the space got along with Alpine.

“One sec!” he called out and bent down to pet his cat, the white fur soft against his calloused hand. “Try to be nice this time, okay?” he teased, reminding himself to keep his expectations low when she meowed. Alpine was a wonderful cat, but also particular with the company she kept and she chased off the last person who visited. He trusted her instincts and if she didn’t like someone then that was that.

“Here goes nothing,” he whispered, steeling himself before he opened the door.

And the world as he knew it ceased to exist.

You stood there with the sweetest smile he had ever seen and he thought his heart would beat right through his chest with how hard it pounded. The feeling only intensified when he looked into your eyes and forgot how to breathe, his stomach filled with so many butterflies that he thought he’d leave the ground. Then he felt like he was falling in slow motion before he came back to himself. It was like the world got a little brighter just because you were standing in front of him.

Is this love at first sight?

“Hi! Bucky, right?” you asked, and he knew then and there he could spend the rest of his life hearing you say his name.

“Yeah, that’s me,” he said, his voice husky. “And you must be…” He paused before he said your name, letting it settle on his tongue.

No, he couldn’t flirt with or hit on his potential roommate.

Or can I?

He heard the hitch in your breath before you nodded. “Yeah, that’s me,” you repeated, your voice soft and sugary sweet.

He wasn’t trying to stare like a creep, but he really didn’t expect to see someone so beautiful. So perfect. When you expressed interest in the room since it was close to the nearby university, he refused to look up your social media accounts. He wanted the first impression based on instinct and a face-to-face meeting and not by what was posted online. He hoped he made a good impression, too, especially since he had freshened up after work, wearing one of his many henleys and jeans.

“Would you like to come in?” he asked, stepping back to give you some room. He took up a lot of space with his size and didn’t want to crowd you.

You winced and didn’t move, making him pause, too. “Before I do that…” He raised an eyebrow when you held your phone up and dialed a number. “My friend wants to hear you say that I’m going to be perfectly safe here.”

Both eyebrows shot up. “She wants to hear me say…” He trailed off when he heard a voice on the other end.

“Hey! You at the apartment?”

“Yeah, I’m here,” you replied, biting your lip and drawing his eyes to your mouth.

Focus. Don’t think about kissing your potential roommate.

“Oh, good! Is he listening? Hey, what’s your name and what are your intentions with my friend?”

Bucky cleared his throat, unable to say what his intentions were deep down. “My name is Bucky Barnes and I’m looking for a roommate. She’ll be perfectly safe here whether she accepts or not,” he said, praying that Alpine liked you enough so you’d move in.

“I’m sorry,” you mouthed to him.

“It’s okay,” he mouthed back. He wasn’t at all offended. You never could tell with strangers and it was nice that you had someone looking out for you.

“She better be safe!” He tried not to laugh at your friend’s tone. It reminded him of Steve, caring and protective. “Is he hot? He sounds hot.”

“You’re on speaker,” you reminded her and Bucky tried to keep a neutral expression because, well, he wanted you to think he was hot. “And, yeah, he’s hot. He’s a real stud muffin. Or stud horse? I don’t know, he’s a stud,” you rambled, your eyes wide like you forgot he could hear you, too.

Silence filled the space between you and he took the opportunity to put his hand on the doorframe so you could see just how large he was. “I’m a stud?” he asked, a smile tugging at his lips. The compliment nearly had him preening like a peacock, and there was tension. No one could tell him otherwise.

Your mouth fell open and a sound came out, but nothing else.

“Ooh, he must be really hot if you’re just making noises,” your friend muttered as you stared past Bucky’s frame into the apartment, avoiding eye contact. That only made you look more endearing. “Call me when you leave so I know you’re still safe.”

“I will. Bye,” you said quickly, hanging up before your friend could say anything else. “Um…”

He tilted his head, not pushing for you to talk. He was more than content to look at you. Did you have any idea how enticing you were?

“About the stud comments, I… Well. Yeah. I mean… Look at you.” You gestured to him and finally looked his way again, making him smile all over again. “I’m sorry. Sometimes I just… say things and I feel like I just made this weird.”

“Hey, it’s fine. I appreciate the compliment,” he said easily when he was doing flips on the inside. “You didn’t make it weird,” he added. Not when he was the one staring at you like a creep.

“So, not a terrible first impression?” you asked and he hated how worried you looked.

“If anything, it’s a great impression,” he promised you, stepping aside again. He’d be thinking about that compliment and you long after you left.

“My friend wanted to come here with me so I wasn’t by myself, but I refused. The call was the next best thing,” you explained, finally stepping inside. God, you smelled sweet, too. “I appreciate you being cool with that.”

“No problem.” And he didn’t miss how quickly you changed the subject. Whatever you felt moments ago, if you felt something at all, you clearly didn’t want to dwell on it, and he didn’t want to make it uncomfortable by dragging it on. “Why do I have the feeling you’d do the same for her?”

“Oh, I would,” you said, gasping when you spotted Alpine. “Oh, my god. She’s beautiful.”

“Yeah, that’s Alpine,” Bucky said, holding his breath when you crouched down and held out a hand. You weren’t allergic to cats, he wouldn’t even entertain a potential roommate who was, so that was good. But what would she think of you?

“Hey, Alpine. I’m hopefully going to be your new roommate,” you said, waiting for her to approach. It made Bucky happy that you weren’t forcing her to go to you if she didn’t want to. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

Alpine gave your hand a sniff and bumped it with her head before she surprised you both and put her paws on your chest. “I… I think she wants you to pick her up,” Bucky said in awe.

She isn’t chasing you off. She likes you. This is good. This is really good.

You picked her up without hesitation. “Oh, my goodness. I’m already in love,” you said when she purred and nuzzled close. Was it weird to be jealous of a cat? “You want to do the tour of your home with me?”

Alpine nuzzled deeper into your hold.

“She really likes you,” Bucky said, leading you to the living room and watching you as you looked around. “It’s not much.” It wasn’t the most lavish place, but it was nice, warm, and he had made it a home.

“I like her, too,” you said, smiling as you took everything in. “Are you kidding? This place is great!”

“Yeah?” he smiled, running his metal hand through his hair. He hadn’t noticed he used that hand until your eyes followed the movement. “Oh, yeah. This…” He put his arm out to show you and felt the need to somewhat explain it. “It’s a state of the art prosthetic, in case you were wondering.”

Losing his arm wasn’t a story he was ready to tell, not today anyway. For now, he just wanted you to see the place. And the prosthetic was something he wouldn’t have normally been able to afford, but he had been lucky and was able to be part of a test group of new prosthetics.

“I think it looks pretty badass.” There was no judgement in your eyes, only openness when you added, “And I’ll argue with anyone who says otherwise.”

He swallowed the lump in his throat. Some people asked invasive questions or tried to touch it, but you put him at ease and there was something wonderful in the air between you because of it. “That means a lot,” he whispered, nodding to the space. “So, you like it so far?”

“I love it,” you answered, your eyes now on the bookshelf. “My kind of space right there.”

“Yeah? You like to read?” he asked. He had a decent collection of books.

“Oh, yeah. Probably how I ended up getting a scholarship since I usually had my face buried in them,” you teased.

“That’s right. Academic scholarship,” he said. You had mentioned in your email that you were on a scholarship and that’s why you were going to the university, but you didn’t want to live on campus. “Must be really smart.”

Smart and beautiful.

“Oh, no. No. I wouldn’t say that,” you said dismissively. That wouldn’t do.

“If you got an academic scholarship, you have to be somewhat smart. So just admit that you’re a little smartie and take the compliment,” he said, chuckling when you shook your head. “I’ll bet Alpine thinks you’re a smartie, too.”

Smartie? What the hell am I saying?

You smiled when Alpine meowed in agreement. “Okay, I’m a little smart in some areas,” you said, biting your lip again. Were you doing that on purpose? “Is that braggy? I don’t want it to sound braggy.”

“Not braggy,” he said. Adorable as hell, but not braggy.

“Thanks,” you whispered almost shyly.

Yep, you were adorable. “Kitchen?”

“Oh, yeah. The tour,” you said, following and gasping again. “This is perfect! And is that an old radio?”

He would’ve liked something bigger eventually, but the size was good and the appliances were in great condition. “Yeah, I listen to music here sometimes,” he said, scratching the back of his neck. “Is that going to be a problem?”

“Hey, it’s your space,” you said. It wouldn’t just be his space if you moved in. It would be yours, too. “And I like music.”

“You like pizza and movies, too?”

You stared at him like he suddenly had another head on his shoulder. “Of course, I like pizza and movies! I thought that was a prerequisite to even look at the place.”

He leaned against the counter and folded his arms with a grin. “Except I didn’t ask you about pizza and movies.”

“Touche,” you said, doing a small spin with Alpine still in your arms. Why did he suddenly want to dance with you in the kitchen? “So, you have a great living room, great kitchen. I’m going to guess the bedroom is amazing.”

He swallowed again, trying not to imagine you in his bed. “Yeah, this way.”

Bucky lifted his chin to indicate the direction of the extra bedroom. You immediately went toward it with Alpine still burrowed in your arms, leaving him a few steps behind. He took the opportunity to check you out, his eyes lingering on your ass. You were going to test his resolve if you decided to move in.

You went into the open doorway since the door across from it was closed, your jaw dropping when you looked back at him. “Wow, this is huge!”

Not the only huge thing in this place.

He barely managed to keep that thought to himself. “So, you like it?” he asked. He thought about turning it into an office or workout area or something, but there was no need.

“Yes! I can have my bed here, and put my desk there,” you said, pointing toward the corner. “I could even put a bed in for Alpine if she wanted to sleep in here,” you offered.

“That’s nice of you,” he said. It was very thoughtful.

“Well, it’s her space, too,” you said, nuzzling her before you set her down.

He nodded toward the closed door nearby. “Bathroom is right across the hall, and you won’t have to worry about sharing since my room has an en-suite attached,” he explained. He wasn’t sure how comfortable you would’ve been if you were forced to shower in his bathroom.

“I’ll have my own bathroom, too?” you asked, brushing past him so you could take a quick look inside. It took all of his strength not to push you against the wall and kiss you, which would’ve probably earned him a slap and a call to your friend. “How has no one snatched this place up yet?”

“Al hasn’t been a big fan of anyone, except for you,” he said honestly, looking you over once more.

“I’m honored that she likes me,” you said before you turned to face him, a wide smile lighting up your face. “How soon can I move in?”

He smiled back. “You want to move in?” he asked, those butterflies in his stomach again when you glanced at your feet.

“Only if you want me, too. Oh, yeah, and…” You dug into your purse and pulled out a small notebook, quickly flipping through the pages. “This is the rent price, right? And the estimated amount for the bills? Because I can give you a first and last month if I need to sign an updated lease.”

He looked over the page. Your notes were meticulous. “That’s the right price,” he confirmed, snapping his fingers. “I forgot if I mentioned it in the posting, but I didn’t even show you the washer and dryer. You don’t have to worry about going to a laundromat since I have them here.”

You put the notebook away and pinched yourself. “Nope. Not dreaming,” you said, your smile faltering a little. “But do you really want me living here? I’m boring.”

“I’ve known you for a very short time and I can tell you that you’re not boring,” he said. His life felt more exciting since you showed up today. “And I’m a mechanic, so I’m not exactly living the most exciting life.”

Bucky was proud to be a mechanic, but it was far from glamorous.

“Being a mechanic sounds pretty awesome.” You crossed your arms. “I do puzzles for fun.”

“Sounds like a great Saturday night,” he said without a hint of sarcasm, making you smile again.

“And to be clear, I won’t be bringing guys back here at 3am,” you promised, scrunching your nose. “I don’t know why I felt the need to say that.”

You mentioned in your initial contact that you weren’t seeing anyone, but he felt extra relieved that you didn’t want to bring guys here. “I won’t be bringing guys here at 3am either.”

The giggle you let out warmed his heart. “So, we’re doing this? You really want me to move in?” you asked hopefully. “Because I really will be a great roommate. I’ll clean, cook, and-”

“I want you to move in,” he assured you. He didn’t want anyone else there. “What do you think, Al?”

The feline brushed against your leg with a happy meow, giving you her approval all over again.

You bounced in place and he thought for a second you’d throw your arms around in a hug. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“Thank you,” he said. You were doing him a huge favor by moving in. “And just to be clear, you’re comfortable living here with me being a guy?”

Bucky had never been more attracted to anyone as quickly as he was to you, but he wasn’t going to disrespect or make you uncomfortable in what would be your new home.

“You promised I’d be perfectly safe here,” you reminded him. He did say that. “And…” The soft smile on your face was an image he wanted engraved in his mind. “I have a good feeling about you.”

He was going to fall head over heels if he wasn’t careful. Who was he kidding? It was too late. “I have a good feeling about you, too,” he said, gazing into your eyes with a soft smile of his own. “And I can’t wait for you to move in.”

God, Steve is going to come over and demand to meet my new roommate. He better not flirt or lay on his golden boy charm.

“Could you excuse me for just a second?” you asked, slipping back into the bedroom. He poked his head in and watched as you did a little jig. It was the sweetest thing he had ever seen. “If you haven’t figured it out by now, I’m a huge dork.”

“You’re far from that,” he said, leaning on the doorframe. You were perfect in his eyes.

“I just…” You turned a blinding smile his way. “I feel like I hit the jackpot!”

I’m the one who hit the jackpot.

And we know how the story goes for these two (so far). 🥰 Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[goobstars]

𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐒

summary : out of all the suggestions caine has put everyone through, you would have to say your favourite was zooble's bar. not because of the alcohol, but because you got to see jax in a suit. the only downside? he knows he looks good, and he knows you think the same.

tags : romance, implied crushing, alcohol, censored profanity, knee/thigh-touching (i'm a sucker for it so yes), jax bringing up how ragatha told gangle to kill herself, and jax being himself.

note : i only made this because the rabbit guy looks good in a suit.

at first, the adventure just seemed like a typical bar setting.

you sat next to pomni as zooble stood in front of you, and they were mixing drinks while looking around the black-and-white scenery. the rain outside could clearly be heard as you fidgeted with the glass in front of you—circling the rim with your fingers out of boredom.

gangle's pencil echoed through the bar as she scribbled on the notebook in front of her, and you were about to ask her what she was drawing before the sound of a bell rang out.

"i'll take a whiskey sour, but hold the egg white since i'm vegan." the voice was one you recognized as jax's, and as you noted him pulling out the chair beside you, you decided to turn in your chair to face him. you wanted to tease him about the whole 'vegan' thing once you heard the sound of distress leave his throat, yet when your eyes finally landed on your figure, all of the taunts vanished from your throat.

sure, you had noted that everyone was in rather formal wear—including yourself—but you hadn't considered that jax would be put in the same boat.

yet, here he was, in a suit.

he was wearing a white button-up with the collar folded, and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. the tie around his neck was loosely done while his black suspenders were held up by his shoulders.

you felt like a victorian man looking at a women's ankle.

before you could successfully look away without jax noticing, he glanced at you, and he raised an eyebrow in confusion. "what are you looking at—?"

he paused for a moment before looking down at his outfit, and he slowly raised his head with a wide grin until he got distracted by zooble sliding him a drink.

he frowned at the beverage before eyeing zooble, "i hate this..."

"i could've made it worse for you." zooble's reply only made jax scoff, "well, i'm calling a vote to turn zooble into a slug."

slowly, people started to vote, but before you could, jax leaned closer to you. "if you vote yes, i'll let you take a picture, doll..."

your shoulders tensed, yet despite his words, you still voted no.

"everyone voted against that!" caine's voice rang out, and jax turned his head to stare at caine with a frown. he grabbed his ears before slumping down on the counter.

the bell rang once again, and you leaned back in your seat to watch ragatha and kinger walk in.

"it's raining like the dickens out there!" kinger's voice echoed as he walked over towards the counter, and where caine was once sitting, kinger took that seat while ragatha sat down next to gangle.

"hi, guys!" she greeted, and you gifted her a slight wave. her and kinger ordered whatever it was they wanted, and you moved your gaze to watch zooble as she grabbed random bottles of alcohol.

you were just doing everything you could to avoid looking at jax, for you could practically feel his eyes burning into the back of your head.

"you know your way around alcohol, huh?" pomni spoke while zooble only shrugged at her words, "yeah. this was one of my suggestions. i worked at a bar briefly—" they flipped the shaker in their hand before pouring more alcohol into it, "i like making drinks."

"that sounds fitting for you." jax's voice only made zooble roll their eyes before turning around to pour the beverage into a glass, "i know there's an implication there, but i can't be f*&$#% to figure it out..."

jax only chuckled at their words, and right when you believed he was done talking, you felt a finger poke your shoulder. "what about you, doll? did you work anywhere?"

you only ignored his question, and once he took the hint, he leaned back to stare at pomni. "did you have any jobs, pomni?"

as she started to explain how she did accounting and explored abandoned buildings, you felt jax lean in closer to you.

"come on...why are you ignoring me?" he taunted as you felt his hand rest on your knee, and he tilted his head while a smirk appeared on his face. "don't make me beg..."

"you're pushy..." you mumbled as you picked up the glass in front of you, and you took a sip of it while jax watched your every move. you didn't know whether to be creeped out or flustered at his stare.

"you love it."

you didn't deny his statement as you leaned against the bar, and you explained to him what you did before you got sent here. it was a little difficult to remember, but in the end, he got the gist of it as he hummed.

"did you also stare at people who wore suits back then, or am i just the special one?" you shoved his hand away from your knee as he teased you, and a laugh left his throat before he leaned back a bit. "i'm taking that as i'm the special one?"

"shut the f*&$ up." you mumbled as you chugged your drink, and you felt jax's hand gently push the cup away from your mouth. "calm down, doll. we don't want you getting digitally drunk now, do we? who knows what you'd admit..."

once again, he leaned in closer, and that idiotic grin on his face was present while you only scoffed. "what do you think i'd admit?"

"i don't know," jax drawled out his words as he placed his elbow on the counter and leaned against his hand. "maybe that i look good? or that you have a crush on me?"

his last sentence was whispered to where only you could hear, but it made you choke as coughs erupted from your throat.

pomni patted your back while zooble paused their drink-making, and ragatha leaned over the counter to stare at you. "are you okay, [name]?"

"ragatha, don't you want to get drunk so you can tell gangle to kill herself again?"

jax's question made ragatha stammer as she started to hastily apologize to gangle, and everyone's attention turned to the two while pomni's hand moved off of your back.

and it was replaced by jax's.

"why are you so shocked? you're not exactly good at hiding it, y'know..." you only slightly glared at jax while a few tiny coughs erupted from you, and he patted your back before leaning in towards your ear.

"you're not good at hiding it like me."

your eyes widened as your head turned to face jax, "what?"

"I'M BORED, ONTO THE NEXT ADVENTURE!"

caine's voice rang out, and you could only hastily stand up from your seat as you shouted. "NO! WAIT A MINUTE—"

jax's laughter was the last thing you heard before it was replaced by upbeat music, and everything went dark before you found yourself standing in the middle of a softball field.

"IT'SSSS SOFTBALL!"

you frowned at the sound of caine's voice as you gripped the bat in your hand, and you felt someone grasp your shoudler. you thought it'd be ragatha or something, but instead, if was jax.

now, he was in a softball uniform, and your body slightly filled with dread as you wanted to be back in the bar.

"should've taken up my offer for that picture, doll..." he teased, but before you could respond, he leaned down towards you. "also, you heard what i said earlier, right?"

you narrowed your eyes before slightly nodding, yet they only widened once a hasty peck was placed against your cheek. "good. now, i don't know who that guy is—" he straightened his posture before pointing at a guy that looked exactly like him, but...nice?

"but i wanna kill him."

as your opposing team introduced themselves—which most of them were opposite versions of everyone minus gangle—you were dragged towards the benches, but even during that, you couldn't get your mind to stop fogging over what had happened.

he liked you back? or was he just teasing you?

given the way he kept glancing at you and even sat down beside you before wrapping an arm around your shoulder, you could only assume that he liked you back.

though, you still missed him in that suit, but the sadness quickly vanished once he was put in a maid costume.

now that was something you wanted to take a picture of.

[vxnillabxn]

Hiii!! I hope it’s okay to ask, I’ve had this idea where MC breaks up with Zayne, thinking he deserves better. But after hearing how miserable he was, she comes back and admits she was scared and never wanted to leave. I’d love to see how he reacts and how they move forward.

Lowk been needing angst and comfort 🥲

𐙚˙⋆.˚ zayne x gn!reader ꒰੭

𐙚˙⋆.˚ hurt/hurt/hurt/comfort! ꒰੭

𐙚˙⋆.˚ sfw! ꒰੭

𐙚˙⋆.˚ do not translate/copy/repost! ꒰੭

﹙♡﹚did i almost make myself cry? yes. did i also love writing this? absolutely. do i approve of the reader! actions? hell no. BUT, overall, this is as much hurt as it is comfort, i hope i meet your expectations, dear anon! ♡

being with zayne was the best decision you ever made. he was emotionally responsible, he always talked things out, and he made sure you felt comfortable and loved. he made time for you, and he put aside important matters for the most crucial one in his eyes; you.

there was absolutely nothing you wanted to change about him or the lovely, strong relationship you two were building together.

again, there was nothing you wanted to change about him.

but about you?

plenty.

you didn't feel like you were enough for him. he sacrificed everything for you, he was a literal angel, and he always knew what to do to make it all feel better.

you, on the other hand, were sometimes too busy. you didn't know how to handle things, and you felt like the comfort you could offer him during his lowest moments was never enough.

you were not enough.

and you'd been repeating those same words for a month now.

how does he handle everything?

how is he able to have you as his top priority?

why does he love you so much, when you're not even half as special as him?

you can't take it anymore. you're tired, you feel drained, and you also feel guilty. zayne deserves the world. he deserves someone who's up to his level. someone who can silently manage everything perfectly. someone who has their life together, like he does.

it's not fair to be selfish and drag him along with you, not when he's been nothing but selfless all his life. he's been killing his free time, killing his social life, even killing his health —and all for you.

they say to love is to let go.

and after thinking and crying yourself to sleep on the nights he worked late shifts, you finally decided it was only fair to break up.

of course, he knew something was wrong.

he just never expected it would be this.

when you told him you'd wait at a nearby park, —one you two had never visited before— he was worried.

you didn't want to break up with him somewhere he loved. you wanted him to still go to the same coffee shop, the same restaurant, the same patisserie without connecting it to a memory this bitter.

when he arrived, he hugged you and kissed you softly.

it hurt.

it tasted so sweet, so genuine, so devoted…

you let him. it was going to be the last time, and your selfishness wanted a final reminder before you left him, for his own good.

what happened next is blurry in your mind.

you don't remember the exact words you said, but you remember his stunned silence.

you know you said it was so he could find someone better. someone who deserved him.

and you know he wasn't getting it.

he understood a lot of things.

but not this.

his eyes went unfocused, his lips pressed tightly shut.

he didn't speak.

you were grateful for that, because if you'd heard his voice, —his broken voice— you'd have apologized right there on the spot.

you held out the snowman keychain he'd made for you, your hands trembling. you wanted him to take it back.

but he didn't move.

he was frozen in time.

so, as cruel as fate is, you kept the keychain. a reminder of the only truly good thing that had happened to you, and when you least deserved it.

you walked away, trying not to cry, telling yourself you were doing what was best for him, right? for once, you were doing something in return for everything good he'd done for you.

and as your figure grew smaller, there was a soft splash on the ground.

a single drop of water.

not from the rain threatening to pour.

but from the corner of his eye.

…

one month.

it's been one month now, and you've been too busy working and hunting distractions. you've avoided the hospital even when you've felt worse than ever, both mentally and physically.

but your chest hurts badly, and more and more often you feel dizzy, exhausted, consumed.

it got so bad you had to go to the hospital, or they'd force you to take another month off to rest.

and the last thing you wanted was to stay by yourself, sulking and crying inside your messy, dark apartment.

once inside the hospital, you saw no one familiar. not even yvonne, the receptionist you'd grown closer to when you were zayne's patient before dating.

instead, another nurse stepped up to the reception desk and smiled warmly.

“good morning, dear. do you have an appointment?”

you swallow hard. you forgot to change doctors. maybe zayne did it for you.

“i… yes, i'm under dr. zayne's care.”

her smile faltered.

“oh, sweetie… didn't they inform you?”

her voice turned softer, her expression shifting to worry. your stomach dropped.

something happened to zayne, you're sure. your heart starts pounding wildly, but you keep your voice steady. you have to know.

“dr. gideon took over his patients for now—”

“what happened to dr. zayne?”

you didn't mean to sound so desperate, but it comes out fast, almost sharp.

the nurse flinched slightly, then cleared her throat.

“i'm afraid i can't disclose that information, sweetheart. but i can schedule you with—”

“thank you!”

you rush outside before she can finish. you run, vision blurry with panic and tears. you know the route to his house by heart. every shortcut, every turn.

zayne would never just leave. not unless something serious happened.

you pound on his door.

your breath is ragged, your heart feels like it might break your ribs, but you don't care.

nothing matters more than knowing if zayne is okay.

yet he doesn't answer.

and now your heart beats not from exhaustion, but from fear — because your heart belongs to him, and if something happened to him…

you can't wait anymore. you tear through your bag, looking for the spare key you couldn't bring yourself to throw away.

there it is. attached to the snowman keychain.

you unlock the door, hand shaking.

the sight inside leaves you breathless.

scattered books. blankets draped carelessly over the sofa…

and on the dining table… two mugs. one at his place, empty. another one at yours, still full. as if he kept waiting for you to come back and drink it with him.

two plates. two sets of cutlery. always two.

dusty. untouched. abandoned for…

exactly a month.

you rush upstairs, opening every door.

not in the bathroom.

not in the bedroom.

not in the kitchen.

maybe… his studio?

you approach the closed door, hand trembling. you push it open.

and there he is.

asleep at his desk. his laptop is still glowing faintly. the room is painfully neat, unlike the rest of the house.

but it's freezing inside.

you shiver, but step closer.

zayne looks… different.

his skin pale and unhealthy, dark circles under his beautiful eyes, a slight stubble on his usually clean-shaven face.

his fingers tinged purple from the cold. his brows furrowed, trapped in a nightmare.

this wasn't supposed to happen.

he was supposed to be better. to find someone up to his level.

but seeing him so broken, so not composed… you realize how badly you misjudged.

tears fall as you try to wake him. you shake him, nudge him, tug at his clothes, bury your face in his lap and sob.

“i'm sorry, zayne, i'm so… so sorry. i never wanted to leave, i…”

you bite your lip hard, almost drawing blood.

“this wasn't supposed to happen… you were supposed to be happy without me. you deserved so much better, zayne. so… much… better.”

words come out between sobs, but you cling to him like a lifeline.

and then, gently, you feel his fingers brushing your hair.

your breath catches. you look up.

he's awake. his expression unreadable, until the faintest smile curves his lips.

“you… came back.”

his voice is raw, hoarse from disuse.

you gasp, scrambling up to look at him properly.

you can't stop yourself.

you throw your arms around him, almost knocking him off the chair.

but then—

“stop.”

you freeze.

does he… not want this?

“i can sense it. you're overthinking again.”

his voice is soft, but firm.

“you did that a lot before you…” he pauses, looking away. “have i not made myself clear enough?”

you step back, but he pulls you closer.

“tell me. was i not clear?”

“zayne, i don't—”

“didn't i tell you how much i loved you? how much you meant to me?”

his voice stays calm, but his gaze… it's yours.

“please. answer me.”

your chest aches. you know the answer.

“zayne, i thought… i thought it was for the best. you're perfect. you always made time for me, even while saving lives. i have so much to work on and… it wasn't your fault. i was stupid, and—”

he hushes you gently, his fingers brushing your lips.

“i was perfect for you. everything i did, every choice, every thought… was for you. from the start of my career, and until the day i die, everything i do will always have you in mind.”

you're speechless.

he removes his hand, then stands, towering over you.

“do you know why i waited?”

you shake your head.

“you never said you didn't love me anymore,” he steps closer, caging you in. “and i knew i'd wait, even if it meant endless nightmares. even if i lost myself doing so… even if it took another lifetime.”

his hand cups your cheek, wiping your tears.

“because i only live for you. and that won't change, unless you tell me you don't love me anymore.”

your voice cracks.

“no! zayne, i love you! i did what i did because of love! i wanted only the best for you…”

“and the best for me is you, my love.”

his cold fingers warm at your skin, his voice trembles ever so slightly.

“don't you ever… ever do that again,” he stops, but adds more after a few seconds:

“every night, i woke up reaching for you,” he confesses, voice breaking for the first time. “i saw you leaving over and over in my dreams, and i couldn't stop you. i was dying without you, even if i kept breathing.”

you choke on a sob, and your lips crash into his.

it's messy, desperate —but he steadies you, slowing it down into something deep and aching, until you're both breathless.

you finally feel at peace. because it's him. and only him.

as you part, he kisses your trembling hands.

“my love… shall i remind you every day how much i need you to breathe?”

you sniffle, shaking your head.

“no. i think… it's my turn now to show you how much i need you. how selfish i truly am for wanting you in my life forever.”

“then let us be selfish, love.”

he kisses your forehead.

and everything falls right back in place.

as it used to be.

and from now on, he'll make sure it always is.

[lynnsmix]

FLEETING. *ੈ✩‧₊˚ h. haddock x reader

summary : After a good few weeks of you and Hiccup throwing playful quips and jests at each other that border the line between being sassy and being flirtatious, that back and forth all comes to an end when you finally need to go. After a good talk with Astrid (she barely even said anything), Hiccup finally comes to terms with his feelings about you, but it might be too late.

word count : 4.82k words

tags : rtte!hiccup, fem!reader, herbalist!reader, exile!reader, dragonrider!reader, fluff, love confessions, kisses, awkward teen romance, jokes about possible Haddock heirs, mild angst, no use of y/n of (name)

author's note : yes we getting emotional hiccup with this one!! anyway, thank you so much for all the love my previous fics are getting, i didn't know so many people would like them ( ∩´͈ ��� `͈∩) i love every single one of you guys who liked my fics and the ones who reposted them ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

PART 1: ROGUE TAMER ⋆˙⟡

It's been a while since you've been accustomed to this dynamic of being with the Dragons Riders. You've learned to like them, they were all weird and sometimes rude, but they all had their good sides most of the time.

And that's where you are with them, at a random island picking up various herbs from the ground. You were accompanied with Astrid and Hiccup, the others collecting the other ingredients for the mixture you always made for the Whispering Death.

Kneeling on one knee, you look up to see Hiccup and Astrid help you gather the fauna. Hiccup was focused on making small talk with Astrid as they foraged, not noticing you at all while you stare at him in awe.

You've been doing this all to much, lately.

Hiccup was the first one to warm up to you, especially after he decided to personally teach you more about Dragons, much to your delight. Maybe it was the way he looked at you with such gentleness, or the way he didn't back away when you first scooched closer to him when you first met, but you really wanted to see more of him like that.

You smile softly as his brow furrows, one herb taking a little more force out of him to tug out of the ground. You giggle at the scene, but a thought in your head makes you smile contort into a frown, looking back down at the flora in your hand.

But you knew, deep inside that you weren't going to see it for long, and once you leave, he and the others just be a fleeting memory; one that you remember, but the latter probably wouldn't.

Enough of that pessimistic thinking, what were you doing again?

You shake your head, your expression going neutral. As you count the herbs in your hand, but unbeknownst to you—as soon as you diverted your attention from him, his gaze went to you.

What was it that made him so drawn to you?

You were so stand-offish, yet so social. You were pretty, yeah—but that wasn't the only attribute he liked about you. He liked how you cared about others, how you weren't afraid to stand your ground, how you looked at him when he said something you found funny, and how dead set you were about paying your debt to the Whispering Death.

He would think of more compliments to you, but Astrid just had to make him snap out of it, throwing a small pebble at the side of his head.

"Ow, what the. . .?" He mumbled as held his hand where the tiny rock made impact with his cranium, looking at the blonde Viking in a 'what the Thor was that for?' expression, brows furrowed, and shoulders raised.

All Astrid replied with was her body language, nodding her head to your figure, all unknowing to the whole commotion. She wanted Hiccup to talk with the girl, maybe invite her to the Edge so she could see that there was finally progress in their relationship. They both couldn't see it, but she did—and she wanted it to fluorish already. Hiccup was confused, not at all understanding what she was trying to gesture.

The blonde teen had silently sighed and rolled her eyes, and took the initiative to talk to you.

She called your name, as you hummed absentmindedly to her call.

"So, where are you going to explore when Groundsplitter heals up?" She asks.

"Oh. . . I thought about staying at the island, but I don't think it would be right." You start, putting your fistful of herbs onto a clean cloth.

Hiccup and Astrid's actions slow, now fully grasping what you were saying, looking at one another.

"Really?" Astrid replies, yet her voice sounded distant, as if she was processing that she might've made you and Hiccup's situationship worse, with the brunet Viking's expression furrowing in disbelief as you continue. Astrid fully forgot of even inviting you to the Edge, the guilt of making Hiccup upset more on her mind now.

"Yeah, I'll leave after she's all healed up so she could be happy with her kid, it'll be hard, but y'know. . . I know I have to." You finish, a smile on your face as you look up at them. They couldn't tell how hard it was to not say it without your voice cracking with sadness, but the way your smile didn't reach your face was all the answer they'd get. Unfortunately, neither of them seemed to be looking at you.

Astrid too distracted to fully understand your expression, covering her previous shock with a mirrored smile, while Hiccup had a harder time concealing his sadness.

"Welp," You stand up, dusting your knees off as you walk over to the dragons who were resting.

"Let's go guys." You say with joy, turning over your shoulder, seeing Hiccup who seemed a bit too into thought to hear what you said, but follows your direction anyway. Astrid seemed to reply with a smile, at least, but Hiccup's mind seemed elsewhere, even on the flight back—with you and Astrid chatting, eventually getting to the point where you asked for his opinion on something, and he just replied with a curt response like, "Uh. . . yeah! Definitely. . ." or "Mmhm".

"Are you uh. . . you're actually leaving?" Hiccup's voice was a pitch higher. After landing back, Astrid had replied she needed help with something about Stormfly—you couldn't really understand since she was talking quite fast before flying off with her dragon, leaving you and Hiccup alone.

Unbeknownst to you though, before she had fled with Stormfly, she gave Hiccup a slightly forceful punch to his shoulder, then nodding to you again, raising her eyebrows. She was doing it again—gesturing to your figure randomly without explaining, leaving Hiccup a little more confused, but finally understanding what she meant.

"Well, not right now—once Groundsplitter is fully recovered, yeah." You repeat what you said a few hours ago effortlessly, waiting for him to say anything else while you finish pulverizing another one of your remedies in the bowl, with Hiccup standing next to you.

"I— uh. . ." He trailed off, not knowing what to retort to that.

You're not going to stay here? But where would you go?

"Well— where are you going to go then?" Hiccup follows behind you, asking as you walk over to Groundsplitter—who is now much more lively than the first time you met Hiccup. You know you should be elated—the sole reason you were still staying on this island was to help her recover, but now it's shifted into something more. . . personal?

"I'll just be a wandering traveler then," You declared.

"Maybe steal a few things from the Tribes that my boat passes through— I dunno, I'll figure it out. . ." You absentmindedly reply while striding forward, not even thinking to look at how distraught Hiccup looked like behind you, his brows starting to furrow, a small frown on his lips.

Hiccup didn't even care about you mentioning the possibility of you stealing from other Tribes, he was just focused on this tight coil in his chest, feeling tighter than before when you keep bringing up that you'd be leaving him.

"I don't belong here, Hiccup—" You try to explain, saying it over your shoulder so he could hear more.

"Oh, but— but you do," He butts in, as your pour the contents of the bowl into Groundsplitter's maw. You now turn to him, all your undivided attention on his figure.

"No, I don't. Besides," You smile at him, and lean in slightly.

"I don't really think I do belong anywhere, and I'm. . . I think I'm okay with that." You expounded, the tone understanding as you paint your face with the most neutral expression ever, but deep inside—it hurt.

Feeling like you never belonged was a perpetual loop in your life, especially at the start when you were still with your tribe. Now ironically, ex-communicated from them, now temporarily living on an island with two large dragons was more welcoming than that of your original home. But still, it wasn't your place to call home.

"Why are you so worried about it? Are you gonna miss me?" You step closer, taunting him to look you in the eye.

"Yeah," He brazenly says, looking away from you.

"Oh." Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. You didn't expect he'd actually say that.

"All of us will."

Oh. He meant it like that.

"Well, when you do feel like you miss me," You grabbed his shoulder with your free hand, his gaze falling onto your hand holding him.

"You always have your flying boat over there to help you find me," You tilt your head to look over his shoulder, his eyes following you vision to see Toothless laying curled up on the floor.

You chuckle at your own unfunny joke, and he grins at you, observing you. The way your eyes scrunched when you laughed, how you smile grew so he could see how enthused you were, how your eyes seemed to glint just in the crackling sparks of the campfire.

Why was he thinking like that?

Your laughter died down, another planned jest coming out your mouth. "But I am quite honored; The oh-so great 'Dragon Master' is all worried about little old me," You rolled your eyes playfully, and cross your arms.

"Oh, Gods. . ." He pinched the bridge of his nose, unimpressed.

"You really need to stop hanging out with Snotlout," He says quite forcibly.

"Why? If I did, I wouldn't hear all of the amazing names he has for you," You muse, walking past him as he trails behind you like a loyal dog.

"That's exactly why."

Days go by like a fleeting glance, and it seems as such that you and Hiccup had started to get closer—much to your disdain.

It all started after your talk with him and Astrid about you leaving the island after the recovery of Groundsplitter—that's when he started to seem more. . . bold? Or is the word. . . touchy?

You started to see more of him, and moreover—touch more of him. Handing over a charcoal pencil when the touching of fingers lingered a few seconds too long, the accidental bump of your hands with his as neither of you take initiative to pull away, the simmering burn under your skin when you both are alone, looking into each other's eyes in the way friends don't look at each other when you're alone— no others, just you two.

But not just that, you understood him. He told you his story; how he used to be an outcast from your tribe, just like you—only that he wasn't exiled 'cause he was the Chief's son. He told you how he met Toothless, how he lost the leg, how he misses his mom—he never really told anyone how he felt about it, but he felt inclined to be so transparent with you about it.

Fuck.

You feel it.

The rope between you tugging into a tight string, ready to snap from any further force.

That's what you were feeling.

The tension. Was it just you or did he feel it too?

The swirling churn of your stomach grows every time any physical touch happens with him. Is it because of your blooming feelings for that. . . that stupidly charming boy, that you feel your stomach flipping under and over itself, or was it guilt?

The feeling of sadness, knowing that every touch from him that left phantom sparks on your skin would just be a ghost of a memory.

Ugh, where were you again?

"Hey. . . You still there?"

Astrids voice calls out to you, making you snap out of your thoughts. It wasn't that embarrassing, but you weren't really sure why.

"I- Uh, I am . Yeah, what did you say again?" You blinked, looking back at her.

"Well, now that you're done going bug-eyed looking at that idiot," Her head nods towards where you had seemingly zoned out, and funnily enough, it was actually directed at the boy who was occupying your thoughts.

Hiccup was chatting with Fishlegs over something niche about dragons again, but he seemed so. . . relaxed. His shoulders were clack, a lazy smile on his face but still listening to what his overly-excited friend was saying, the up and down of his chest as he breathed—you really shouldn't be describing it, this really seems like you're breaching the lines between friends and. . . still friends, but you analyze every single thing they do.

"I was asking if you were really sure about leaving." She finished the remaining amount of mead in her mug, chugging it down before speaking again, wiping her mouth with her hand. "You could stay at ours, y'know. . .?"

Another mention of staying, again.

"Hiccup wouldn't. . ." The blonde girl paused, realizing what she was saying, before rephrasing her words again.

"We wouldn't mind having you with us at the Edge. Just saying."

You smile at the request, but you gently decline once more.

"No, yeah— it's, I'll be fine. There's no need." You wave your hand dismissively. "Now that Groundsplitter's all good to go, I'll be. . ."

Your words falter, failing to say the next with a confident tone.

"I'll be on my way." You finally grit out, your smile at Astrid never seeming to reach your eyes. Astrid can tell, but now wanting to pry, she nods instead.

Another peaceful silence meets you both, with layered chewing sounds of your eating with hers. But as much as this seemed great, it made you think more about what she said.

Staying at the Edge sounded like a dream come true; you and the gang worked well together, and it seemed like it would be a good idea.

But was it?

Every time you thought of staying, all the memories of being shunned from your tribe seemed to snap you back to reality.

You were just going to ruin it.

A frown had made its way to your face—now you think you just look stupid; you were eating while frowning, a ridiculous sight.

But unbeknownst to you, a pair of green eyes were analyzing you, just like you were analyzing him.

Today was the day.

You were actually leaving, for good.

But was it actually for good?

It was the afternoon, the sun blaring high in the sky. You were at the shore, your boat ready to go. Everyone was there to say goodbye—Groundsplitter, the Screaming Death, the gang, and Hiccup.

Everyone smiles ran away from their face; either showing a neutral, passive expression, a somber look that didn't want to cry, or barely being able to keep their head, uncontrollably sobbing—A.K.A just Fishlegs.

"Do you, really. . . Really have to go?" Fishlegs sniffs and sobs at every word he says. You don't break the hug he trapped you in, waiting patiently for him to do it first.

"Yeah, just stay with us at the Edge. Not that— not that I care, or anything." Snotlout supported, his voice sounding more glum as he hugged you next. He gave you a quick side hug quickly, before letting go and crossing his arms.

Snoutlout finally let go, letting you hug Ruffnut now, then her twin brother. You were gonna miss them—they knew the real, genuine definition of chaotic fun.

"Dude's right." Ruffnut said.

"It sucks not having you here now." Tuffnut mumbled into your shoulder as he hugged you tightly, looking at the ground while kicking a small pebble with his foot.

Their voice seemed to miss the usual mischievous, anarchic Torston tone. It was nice seeing another side of them, but that didn't make it less bad.

Astrid practically jumped into your arms. You reciprocated it, nonetheless. By the short time you were with her, she really made you feel like you had a sibling—someone to help you. And by the way she held you in her arms, she felt the same way.

"We're gonna miss you." Astrid had sighed.

"Especially Hiccup. He really likes—" Ruffnut's random comment had cut off with an 'oomph!', the man he was mentioning covering his mouth. You laugh at how silly he looked doing it.

"Haha. . . He just means I'm gonna miss you. . . Yep, a lot." Hiccup smiled and gritted out, Ruffnut trying to take the brunet Viking's clasp on her mouth off.

"Uh-huh. . .?" You reluctantly said, finally reaching out to Hiccup. You seemed to always save him for last.

Unlike the others when they hugged you, tight and gripping, Hiccup seemed to hug you like you were made of delicate porcelain, his touch soft and gentle.

He pulled you in, one hand on your waist, the other at the back of your neck, cradling you in his hands. You paused at the sudden change of being hugged, but you accepted it, hands on his back.

He mumbled something into your shoulder something you couldn't hear, even with how close he was to your ear. Only he knew.

"Please come back." He meekly said, like a prayer. You didn't hear, but maybe so God would.

His fingers curled softly, grabbing your waist and combing through your hair, delicate as flight.

You both stayed like that, longer than usual. You both pulled away to look at each other. His eyes— oh, his eyes. They looked at you with such feeling, you didn't know what it was, but it sucked you in.

"So, are they just going to stay like that or—" Snotlout's comment had failed to finish, Astrid's foot stomping on his.

"Ow! What?"

This made you both remember yourselves, fully pulling away from each other's touch.

"Ahem, so, yeah—" Hiccup cleared his throat.

"I'm just gonna—" You started to jog into the boat, tripping somewhere along the way.

"Yeah, you— you do that," He nodded, trying to fix himself up.

Before you knew it, you were already on water now—the dragons helping you to push it into the ocean. The water ripples as it pushed you away from the Vikings, the boat rocking slightly in its wave. You looked back at them, before waving at them with a pained smile.

They waved back, but Hiccup just smiled. You see it now. As far as you were, you could see what his eyes seemed to tell you; they were filled with adoration, but shrouded with a cloudy sadness.

As soon as you were far enough, you turned back into the direction of your boat—and endless pool of blue before you, and a setting sun.

You didn't want to look back again; because if you did, you knew you wouldn't want to leave.

At the shore, after about an hour of talking and so, everyone decided to get on their dragons and fly back now, Hiccup and Astrid being the ones to leave last again.

"C'mon," She turned around over to Stormfly, but Hiccup didn't want to move. He seemed stuck to the ground, his eyes never wanting to look away from the direction you went.

". . ."

". . . Hiccup?"

"I— yeah, I'll come along, just wait a sec." He vaguely responded.

The blonde Viking didn't know what he meant, until he saw him ride onto Toothless and bolt up into the mountain. As much as she didn't want to intervene, she didn't want to have her friend be this unconfident and somber again.

Without another beat, she followed him up onto Stormfly, flying up to the flat peak. She made her Deadly Nadder land a few steps behind, before unmounting and hesitantly walking up to the boy, hunched over with his knees dangling off the rocky mountain.

"So, how are you holding up?" She started gently, sitting next to her friend softly.

"Oh, y'know. . . i'm just as spiffy as ever," Hiccup exclaimed faking his enthusiastic self, before hunching over again realizing Astrid wasn't convinced.

"I dunno, I feel. . . sad?" His hands were on his lap, fiddling slightly with the texture of his pants.

"Of course, you do. We just said goodbye to her."

"Yeah, but like," He raised his hands to gesture, but he couldn't explain what he wanted to say.

"It feels. . . different."

Astrid replied with a hum, encouraging him to find his words.

"Like. . . I just lost something I never should've let go of." He elaborated.

"And why do you think you feel that way?" The blonde Viking wanted him to find what he felt by himself, not wanting to intervene any more than this.

"I don't know—maybe 'cause we lost another friend, maybe because everyone's sad too, maybe because I. . ." He groaned, before his words paused.

"Because you. . .?"

She could tell. The gears in his head were finally turning at max speed, he understood now, his eyes going slightly wide.

". . . Because I liked her, yeah." Hiccup balled his hands into fists, his sorrow forming into annoyance. "And I never told her— Gods, I never told her."

His stance started to sit right again, before bending over himself.

"And now I'm too. . . I'm too late," He meekly let out, his frows burrowed, his hands on his knees to keep him upright.

Hiccup didn't understand. Was this punishment? Making him feel such emotion from a person as amazing as you, then taking you away? If so, this was a cruel fate.

Astrid saw his face. He looked as dispirited as ever, and she couldn't help but comfort him. With a hand on his shoulder, she tried her best to make him understand that he didn't run out of time.

"Do you still like her now?"

". . . Yeah, of course." He looked up to meet her eyes, and he was surprised to see determined cerulean eyes looking into his.

"Then tell her, it isn't too late." She emitted, a smile on her face forming.

"But I— I can't. She left already. . . Unless," Hiccup responded negatively, until he remembered what you said a few days back.

"You always have your flying boat over there to help you find me,"

He whipped his head to Toothless, who seemed to decide that now was the best time to take a good nap. He sighed, but another roar from a dragon—or more like scream—made his head look to the sound.

The Screaming Death. Dragon

Dragon. Flying boat. You.

This was it.

Hiccup looked back to Astrid, who seemed supportive of the idea. Without another second wasted, he took the chance and stumbled over to the large, albino reptile.

Because this time, he would make sure you came back to him.

Re-reading one of the books you had for the fifth time, you sit on one on the cool wood planks of the boat.

Your eyes are reading and understanding the pages yes, but your mind is currently preoccupied with the thought of what you did just mere hours earlier.

Was it the right decision? What if it wasn't? Did I really have a chance living with them?

You shook your head to rid of the thoughts, blinking quickly to banish them.

What were you thinking?

You stand up, leaving the book strewn on the ground. You lean on the banister, looking into the far sun—it painted the ocean with a multitude of colors, blending seamlessly with one another.

With a sigh, you lean your head on your hand.

You hear large flapping in the sky, but when you did look up, there was nothing but a large flock of Monstrous Nightmares flying away.

Huh.

"You really need to stop putting your books everywhere."

You know that voice.

Were you hallucinating?

You turn around, and there he actually was. He was there, his lanky stature holding the book in his hand. Before you knew it, your legs were taking you to him.

You were in his arms, and he was in yours. You pulled away, and he still held you.

"You're— you're here. . .?" You said, not believing what was happening and what you were experiencing.

"You said to visit you when I missed you. So, here I am." He elaborated.

"On my flying boat." He nodded behind him, and you didn't even notice that the albino dragon was with him.

"Oh, Gods. . ." A breath of joy made its way out of your mouth, and you looked back at her even more.

"I didn't tell you when I still had the chance to, so I'm saying it now." Hiccup's hands met yours, and you looked down to see him intertwine them.

"I don't want you gone."

"But I'm not gone. . .?" You asked.

"No, I—" He sighed deeply, then replied in a better way.

"I don't want you to disappear from me." He expressed.

Your time seemed to slow. When he said it, it felt like it was just you and him.

"Hiccup. . ." Your eyes went soft.

"I know you think it won't be right with us, with you staying back at the Edge because of what happened at your tribe, but—" He gripped your hands in his, a reassurance to you that he's there, and assurance to him that he's actually holding you.

"This is different. You belong with us, with. . ." Hiccup brows furrowed in disdain, thinking that what he might say might be quite corny.

"You belong with me."

Without another beat, your gentle expression turned into something of a teasing demeanor, bursting out into a giggle.

"Okay, I know that was quite cheesy,"

"Oh, very cheesy." You nodded fervently, your sweet laugh still ringing in his ears.

"I know, I know— but. . . You get what I mean." He tilts his head slightly.

"Yeah, I— I do." You look down at both your interlocked hands, then unlinking them together, doing something Hiccup never expected you would do.

"Do you really think I'll belong if I stay?" You cup side of his face, his body instinctively leaning towards your touch, his eyes fluttering shut.

"Always." He sighs out.

"Good, because I'm never leaving."

You leaned in quickly, his lips meeting yours. Hiccup went wide-eyed, then kissed back.

Lips locking, hands on each other's, you felt like the luckiest girl in the world.

And Hiccup? He felt like he was in Valhalla.

Pulling away, you try to ask a question to the brunet. But you pulled away too little, and Hiccup's lips met yours again quite clumsily, his hands making it to your waist, pulling you closer.

You accepted his actions, nonetheless. But after a few more moments, you pulled away, far enough this time.

"Wait,"

"What. . .?" You saw his face, and he looked as if he wanted to whine, his eyes slightly teary, pleading.

"Where would I stay then?"

"Mine, of course. Unless, y'know. . . You wanna be staying with Snotlout, of all people." He sarcastically replied.

"Hmm," You vocalized, looking up to pretend you were thinking.

"Maybe I do want to room with Snotlout, he has some really good nicknames for you—"

"Oh, just come here." He rolled his eyes as he cut you off, his lips meeting yours again.

Your kissing was filled with clumsy teeth knocking with one another, his hands on your waist more firm.

There was another thought popping up in his head.

If you did become roommates with Snotlout, he wouldn't mind at all.

Because he'd just steal you away, every damn time.

BONUS ⋆˚࿔

"So, does that mean you'll be staying at Hiccup's hut?" Astrid asked.

Everyone gathered at the Blacksmith's Forge, excited to see you again knowing you weren't leaving.

"Until my hut's all done being built, yeah." You responded, leaning onto Hiccup's shoulder.

"I thought rooming with other people wasn't allowed?" Tuffnut crossed his arms.

"No, rooming with other people isn't allowed with you two." Fishleg's corrected.

"Remember the time you guys lit me on fire in my sleep?" The blond Viking bleated.

"Whatever, that was a totally cool stunt." Tuffnut jeered.

"It was totally awesome." Ruffnut added.

"Yeah, but maybe that rule still shouldn't be allowed with Hiccup and her." Snotlout finally piped up.

You and Hiccup looked to him, perplexed.

"Who knows? Maybe another Haddock heir will be soon. . ." He said the last part more hushed, but it still was heard by everyone.

Astrid was shocked and stunned, The Twins seemed awfully intrigued, Fishlegs was confused then understood, excusing himself out of the conversation, Hiccup was sputtering out his words, and you started to blush furiously.

You tried to defend yourself, but a looming shadow behind Snotlout seemed to do it first.

Now, the Screaming Death was trying to bite Snotlout's buttocks off, and now all of you were laughing.

"A Haddock heir, eh?" You drawled, looking over to Hiccup.

"I— uh, I don't think we're really, y'know ready for that, actually no—" He tripped over his words.

"Scratch that, I'm sure that I'm not."

idk if I hate the theme or like it, but I can't change it anymore so womp womp :(

did you like the fic? If you do, drop a note and let me know what you thought of it :DD

thank you for reading ~ !

[comicaurora]

No question I just wanted to say the way you drew the water on the new page is BREATHTAKING

Actually, you know what, I do indeed have a question. How on earth did you make it look so good??

I'm really glad it worked! I've never had to paint the underside of water before, and it was an interesting challenge, since so much of wave texturing is communicated through seaspray, a particle effect that can't be used from under the water. Here's the gist:

Started with solid blue, of course. Since the bottom panel was going to be a plunge into deep water, threw in an easy dark gradient.

To texture the underside of the water, I started with light and shadow. Light gathers on the crests of waves, so I brushed out an approximation of where it seemed like it made sense for the light to be catching. Because of the radial splash in panel 2, I wanted the illusion of the water bending inwards towards the camera, so I kept the light to the edges of the splash and filled the center with shadow.

Darkened more across the board to increase the intensity. I added a second darkening layer, this time a deep blue instead of purple, to create the effect of multiple colors above the surface being filtered through the bluish water. I also wanted to imply the shadows of the fragments of the shipwreck falling towards the water, hence the smaller, sharper dark areas.

Glow! A thinner, finer brush to capture the specular highlights on the crests of the waves, and of course some light rays in the third panel to reinforce the feeling of depth. This layer used a gold color, which is the only part of the water texturing that wasn't in the blue-purple range.

Boat bits - I started working out the atmospheric perspective effect with these, to create the illusion that the ones further from the camera were less opaque because the water was obscuring them. I also added a layer of simple bubble effects (a dot particle brush screened over the page)

For the final layer, figures, more bubbles, and more precise hand-drawn bubbles to communicate the movement the specific way I wanted to. Rapidly-moving bubbles stretch and distort rather than remaining perfectly spherical, and they also helped sell the scale, implying that the objects with larger bubbles were closer to the camera and thus farther from the surface.

And that's the gist of it! I'm glad it worked because it was a real seat-of-the-pants endeavor over here

[loomingspector]

I got a new idea hehehehehe (I haven’t seen it much, but that might be my own 'not searching' before I got the idea.)

But!

I really like the idea of the kids turning completely obsessive with Bruce. Not in a weird way. In the sense that, since legit every other parental figure in their life is dead/incapacitated/murdered. They only have Bruce.

So as they finally find solace in Bruce (in this hc it’s WetCatBattinson, cause he’s pathetic and l love him so much). They go completely insane with the idea that he could be killed, or even so much as hurt.

The first time they each see him stumble into the cave, and collapse onto the floor calling for Alfred, they all lose their minds. This is their new family and they can’t even protect it. They have to protect him. Protect him. Protect. Protect. Protect him.

Dick starts it of course, his family died in front of him, and he goes on a revenge spree. When he finally calms down and accepts Bruce’s genuine care for him, they go after him together. But when the worse villains then come on the radar. And Bruce gets severely hurt, Dick completely shuts down, he’s even more feral than before, screaming and yelling that he’ll kill everything, and he’s even freaking out at Alfred because Bruce seems uncomfortable in the treatment he’s doing. (he was resetting his dislocated shoulder).

Jason as well, he’s a street kid, and never really had true comfort, ever. And suddenly his life is a fairy tail, he has a strained relationship with his brother, but his new guardian seems to love him. It’s less sudden as it was with Dick, but no less than. It’s a gradual obsession, with everything he does, everyone he interacts with, goes to galas with, what is he doing when he’s not with Jason.

It certainly can’t be more important than him, certainly Bruce loves him more than anything, they’ve been fighting with their lives on the line together for so long now. Bruce loves him, more than anything right? Right?

He has to.

Jason loves him more than anything.

So Bruce has to love him just as much.

When Dick sees this child standing still, but absolutely seething when Commissioner Gordon put his arm around Batman when he was happy a case was finally over. And a small smile, was ever so slightly visible, on the otherwise emotionless Batman.

Dick recognizes that look, a look of deep possessiveness, one he saw in himself, before breaking off on his own in Blüd, but was sitting just beneath the surface. Bubbling up whenever he sees Bruce get hurt.

He pulls Jason aside, maybe making sure he doesn't go too far like he did, and lash out at the people near Bruce. He has to play this carefully if he wants to keep being right by his side. And to make sure Bruce is still happy. It would make him sad if his children went too far for him, even if they think it would be better for that scumbag who was flirting with Bruce, to die. They can't do that, not in public at least. They can uncover the scandals and make sure they're no longer on the guest list, but they can't go too far.

Bruce can't be sad.

Not because of them.

When Tim enters Bruce's life, his deep obsession has already been festering for so long. This is his idol, and he needs help. He needs Tim's help.

He needs him.

Like how much Tim needs him.

When he takes up the mantle, and Bruce is in his fragile mindset, worrying about Tim all the time, since he can't fuck up another time.

This is completely different from what Tim is used to. His idol worries about him, about what he eats, how much he sleeps, if he gets hurt and how he feels at all times.

This only fuels Tim's obsession even more, he's not just a hero, he's Tim's and Tim's hero alone. And Tim won't let anyone break him when he's spent so much time trying to build him up again. Nothing will get in the way of Bruce being happy, not the villains and certainly not some second rate annoyance at a gala, who's company Tim can make disappear overnight if he looks at Bruce that way again.

When Jason then comes back and the Titan's tower incident occurs, it goes a little differently.

Tim lets it slip that Bruce is his now, he doesn't need anyone other than him. He won't let anyone or anything make Bruce break down like that again.

Jason, like Dick, sees it. Sees this child become what he too was, and he ends up talking to him about what he means. Jason realizing that everything Talia told him, maybe wasn't as true as he thought, maybe Bruce really did care.

Tim might recognize this as a chance to make Bruce even more happy, so he doesn't have to read pride and prejudice while crying to the grave anymore. Won't have that shimmer of sadness in his eye anymore when he looks at the display case in the cave anymore. That Alfred decided was a good idea. It had been an interesting week when Tim uncovered that little titbit, but had shelved it when it had made Bruce sad that they were fighting.

So Tim will entertain the idea of Jason also getting space in Bruce's life, if it resulted it him being more happy. Like it did when Dick was there.

And Jason will take the time to uncover what truly happened while he was gone, maybe his parental love for Bruce wasn't as shallow as he had thought, while he was presumed dead.

So while Jason still finds fault in Bruce's methods, now it also has the undertones that if these scumbags continue to walk. They'll continue to hurt Bruce. And if Tim sends a list of people who needs a good scare for making Bruce uncomfortable, then nobody has to know.

When Damian makes his appearance, it seems to rock everything once again.

Damian has had to listen to both his mother and grandfather talk about this almost perfect specimen. How he was going to be the truly perfect one.

How could he not be obsessed with this man, he's supposed to be him perfectly, and then be even more.

When he finally meets him, he might start out wondering what was even special about him, but slowly he also starts learning why not giving in to killing is almost harder.

He starts seeing who he truly is as a hero, why people look to him as a beacon of hope.

While his obsession started extremely high, falling a little flat, but then taking on a new light, that almost makes it hard for it to not become even stronger than before.

Tim is now the one to see it, how Damian eat the same, trains the same, talks, and walk the same way as Bruce. Almost trying to entirely engulf Bruce's existence into his own. But it's also tittering on too much, it's worrying Bruce. And Tim can't have Bruce become sad because the new child, and if his disappearance would make him even more sad, he'll just have to show him the right way to go about this.

Tim talks to Damian about how it might not be a need to become Bruce, but because Bruce has now become what Damian has always needed in his own life, a strong force that would be the good for the many, taking not the easy way out, but the right way. An existence that sees Damian for what he is, and not what he needs to become.

Cassandras obsession is almost overflowing after a few weeks after being welcomed into the family. Never feeling safe, but now having a place that she can return to and call home. And people who accept her and her past. Working with her to make it better.

She strives to be better in the way her new parent wants her to. But also sees how this life is breaking him down, how he bleeds and hurts for the city, for the city to then still treat him like a criminal.

She saw how it was breaking him down when he couldn't be there for his family, and when the newspapers were speaking badly of his choice as CEO. And the sadness in his eyes when he's too late to a disaster, putting the blame on no one but himself.

Tim and Damian both see how she lingers in the shadows, how she'll put herself at risk to make sure more people get out safely, and how she doesn't seem to care about her injuries until Bruce would pull her to his side to protect her, which only seemed to distress her even more that he's focusing his time to protect her when she could protect herself.

They both sit her down, trying their best to explain how their health is absolutely essential to keeping Bruce happy, if they get hurt he'll be sad, so they cannot get hurt unless absolutely no other option is available.

They explain how to keep Bruce happy, what to avoid with him, how to get him out of situations he doesn't like in public. And how best, to make sure no one harms him.

No one will harm Bruce Wayne

not if his kids have any say in it.

(even if that someone is himself)

~~~~~~

This is a very rambling idea, but I really like obsessive characters. And it fits in my head that the kids absolutely have the potential of turning entirely obsessed with their new parent, since at this point, they don't have anything else.

I did the characters I'm familiar with most, since I'm not entirely clear on Steph/Barbara/Duke. And Duke/Barbara still have parents. Steph also had the potential for obsession when she wants to become Robin, but I'm not sure enough to write it out.

This might also be my more calm version of this take, so tell me if you want a little more feral one too hahahahah

my idea for this was also inspired by this post, by @siriusly-dc

as well as the wonderful fic ‘Your Beauty Is That of Gentle Winter, My Dearest’ By @ocyus-stuff

[arachnidseyes]

─⋅⋆⁺𖤐

LOVE AND CHANGE

Damian Wayne x Constantine! Reader

A/N: Previous. Angst? They're both new to relationships. Fluffy batfam at the end! wc: 2.5k

Damian’s eyes flitter to his windows for what feels like the hundredth time that night. He sighs and taps his pencil against the page of his sketchbook. It’s late, most of the manor is asleep, out patrolling or in the cave at this hour.

He tries not to imagine himself swinging from rooftop to rooftop, punching bad guys and saving civilians. It’s not his night. He’s sworn to start taking nights off. If he’s going to make this doctor thing work he has to show commitment. Anyone who’s done it knows how addictive the life of heroism can be.

He stares down at his sketch book, at the rough sketches of various muscle groups and their names interspersed with doodles of rabbits and doves. He steals another glance at the rain speckled windows before sighing and closing his sketchbook, shuffling his way to bed.

He almost makes it there before he hears a little tap tap tap on his balcony doors. He tenses for only a moment before being filled with tentative relief. It can only be one person, although the lack of a snarky remark from behind the door strikes him as strange.

He opens the door and there you are, Constantine’s spawn, standing on his balcony again. He gives you a quick once over and is relieved when he sees no blood seeping from your clothes, although you are completely soaked and shivering slightly. He’s about to berate you about getting sick when he finally looks at your face and freezes.

“I know you said not to come to the manor but I just… I just wanted to see you.”

Your voice cracks and you try wipe away the tears threatening to spill. Damian stares, honestly completely unprepared for this situation. He decides that getting you inside and out of the wet cold should probably be his first priority.

He pulls you inside, closing the balcony doors behind you. He carefully cups your cheek but you can't meet his eyes, only worrying him further. He searches your face for some kind of explanation and apparently he finds something because he asks very softly,

“Where's Constantine?”

You lean into his hold, keeping his hand on your cheek with your own.

“He’s fine. He’s with Zatanna but… It was a close call.”

With that confirmation Damian relaxes a little, he brings your cold body closer, his hand on your back. The gentleness makes you let out a little sob,

“He was right. If I hadn’t been there…It could have been really bad, Damian.”

Fresh tears are flowing. You lean into him and it’s like the weight of the world is on your shoulders. He feels it when he holds you, just tight enough that he hopes he can carry some of the weight for you. He doesn’t know if he should say something reassuring or not? “It’s okay” seems like a rather patronizing thing to say. He instead asks you,

“But the fight is over?”

Once he knows for sure that you aren’t in danger anymore he can figure out what to do next. You nod against his shoulder and he holds you tighter.

He hopes that his beating heart can do the talking for now, he hopes his touch is reassuring enough, that it makes up for the words he doesn’t have. Mentally chastising himself, isn’t going to help so he needs to make up for his lack of right things to say with the appropriate actions.

After a few minutes he gently lets go, urging you to sit on the end of his bed. He ruffles around his dresser, pulling out some pajamas. He hands them to you and then walks into the bathroom to fetch some tissues and a warm cloth, taking extra long to give you enough time to change.

When he enters the room again you’re looking out the windows at the rain, at least you aren’t shivering anymore. He wordlessly hands you the warm cloth and you use it to wipe your face and warm your cold cheeks. He props some pillows up on his headboard and, as gently as he can, pulls you back so you're huddled in his arms. You have no issue easing into him as he brings the blankets up around you.

“Tell me what happened, habibti.”

His voice is so soft, you can feel it through his chest. You shuffle into a comfier position.

“One of John’s old friends he made a pact with when he was younger came back to bite him in the ass. Same old demon shit. Always with their stupid pacts.”

You sniff angrily, Damian nods along like he understands your frustration.

“I sent the bastard back down. Got John out of the pact. Saved the day and everything.”

That’s all you say, all the explanation you have and you give it through choked breaths as your throat tries to keep in another sob. Tears spill more freely and Damian hands you a tissue from the box.

You give a small thanks and blow your frustrations out onto the white paper. You stare at it blankly. Damian gently takes your hand and says,

“Talk to me.”

It’s the closest thing to a plead you’ve ever heard from him and it might be exactly what you needed him to say.

“Tell me everything.”

The dam breaks. You know exactly what he means. There’s so much left unsaid between you, not necessarily because you thought you couldn’t say it but because it seemed redundant. You both know what this life entails, you’re uniquely equipped to understand each other with very little words. But its clear understanding doesn’t carry as much weight as you both thought it would. Knowing can't really exist without communication. You sniff again and huff,

“It was almost fun when I was little. I followed him around, I dressed like him, cussed like him. I thought I was mocking him. Thought it would be funny if the child he never wanted was just like him.”

Damian eases back into the sheets, keeping your hand loosely held in his with his other hand resting on your shoulder.

“It's like he was always stuck between keeping me away to keep me safe and keeping me close to keep me safe. I think he still is.”

You sigh deeply, your tears have simmered down leaving your eyes tired and your cheeks raw.

“When he showed up in Italy, that was the first time I’d seen him in months. We had a fight, like we always do but this time… He said I was just like my mother. Not that I would fucking know, he didn't even explain. And I know he just said it so I would finally leave. Find something normal to do with my life so I would be out of the danger that surrounds him. Which is stupid, I can find my own danger.”

Damian feels the urge to come up with a solution for you even though he knows you’re not asking for him to fix your problems. You just want him to listen. He finds that idea appealing, just being able to talk without the pressure of needing to fix it immediately. He stares at your hand as he says,

“It took me some time to understand why my father was so furious at my mother for the way she'd raised me. But I’ve also come to understand that her upbringing was… difficult as well. The anger is there but it doesn't burn like there's does, it just simmers. I still miss her, even when I shouldn’t. Because I know she loves me.”

He's not sure if this is what he's supposed to say but he finds himself not caring. He just wants to talk to you, he wants to listen and for you to listen back.

And you do. You talk softly about your childhoods, your parents, heroism, what hell was like and how it changes you. You just talk. For what feels like hours, and the weight lifts ever so slightly with every word and moment of silence in between. You find yourself dozing off periodically, and you can tell by how soft his voice is getting that he’s drifting as well.

“Before I left him with Zee…He said I was good.”

Damian tilts his head slightly towards you, letting out a small “hm?”

“My act, he said he liked it. Said it was good.“

You eyes close and you surrender to the warmth of his body next to you and the softness of his sheets. He smiles against your hair feeling your heart beat against his own.

─⋅⋆⁺.

The morning sun beams through the windows, unobstructed by the curtains Damian forgot to close the night before. The Wayne son lies in bed, propped up on his elbows, staring blankly at the intruder next to him.

He’s trying to figure out how to wake you up. He’s been figuring it out for maybe ten minutes now.

Should he nudge you awake or would that be awkward? He briefly thinks of kissing your forehead to wake you more gently but immediately cringes to himself, that would definitely be awkward. He thinks he just might let you sleep past breakfast until his saviour comes waltzing into the room.

Alfred the Cat slinks in through the creaked open window, which is left open specifically for him, and saunters over to the bed. With no further ceremony, the cat plops right down on top of your sleeping face.

You startle awake and groan irritably, rubbing cat fur off your face. You glare at the feline, who bats at your attempts to shoo him away. Damian chuckles and the sound catches your barely conscious attention.

“Wht’s s’funny?”

You mumble, barely intelligible. You stretch yourself awake and rub the sleep out of your eyes as Damian sits up.

“They will be expecting us at breakfast.”

Before he can get up, he’s magically pulled back down and his face is smooshed against your chest with your arms wrapped around him, keeping him there right next to a purring Alfred.

“Five more minutes.”

He clicks his tongue. Glaring at the pampered cat next to him, who was supposed to be his ally but has apparently betrayed him for measly head scratches. It’s quiet for a moment as his head rises and falls with your breaths.

“Have you told them about…us?”

He clicks his tongue once more,

“I didn’t need to tell them, you made it pretty clear.”

He feels your raspy laugh through your chest as you seem to remember the torture you put him through after your first kiss.

“Oh yeah.”

You search for your phone on the bedside table and tap clumsily around the screen before turning it towards him. Damian squints at a picture of himself, black lipstick marks all over his face with the most horror-stricken expression he’s ever seen himself wear.

You scroll right to show him a second picture, this time he’s giving the person behind the camera a death glare, although the smudged lipstick on his scowl makes it very hard to take seriously. The third picture you swipe to is just a blurry picture of what Damian assumes is his own expensive dress shoe kicking Dick’s phone out of his hands. A story in three pictures.

You’re full on giggling at this point and Damian snatches the phone out of your hands, intending to burn it and then maybe murder Dick and anyone who's ever seen those pictures. Before he can delete anything, you snap your fingers and the phone is gone in a poof of smoke. He glares down at you and you offer nothing but a satisfied smirk.

“Aww, I could send you a picture of me, if it would make you feel better.”

Your tone is exaggeratingly sensual as you prop your head up on your hand. He scoffs and rolls his eyes at the insinuation and you laugh. A comfortable routine.

Three polite knocks on the door sound.

“Master Damian, breakfast is ready. Don’t worry, I’ve set an extra seat as well.”

You look at each other, less shocked this time around.

“I’m telling you, he’s some kind of sorcerer.”

Damian sighs, getting out of bed and fixing his clothes.

“Get dressed.”

─⋅⋆⁺.

“Morning.”

You greet everyone at the breakfast table. Bruce doesn’t even look up from his newspaper when he greets back and most of the bats at the table offer the same casual greeting, except Jason, who looks around confused. He watches Damian pour you and himself some water and looks around to the rest of the family before asking out loud.

“Is this normal?”

Dick gestures at you wildly and gives an exasperated,

“Thank you!”

The other siblings glance at each other with knowing looks of anticipation. Damian clicks his tongue and sighs,

“Maybe if you both could keep a stable relationship, you would know that it’s completely normal to have your partner over for breakfast.”

You and half the table struggle to hold back your laughter. You catch Duke's whispered "Damn" and Steph shushing him. Jason doesn’t even seem to register the insult, unlike Dick you brings his hand to his chest in offense. Jason looks between you and Damian and simply says,

“Cute.”

Before going back to him scrambled eggs. You see Damian clutch his fork, leave it to Jason to find the most effective way to infuriate his youngest brother. Dick seems to deflate a little at his brother’s lackluster reaction, clearly wanting someone to share his bewilderment.

He looks around the table for support and gets it in the form of Tim nudging his head towards you both with an encouraging look. Dick regains some confidence and crosses his arms giving you a smirk.

“So when’s the wedding then?”

Tim doesn't bother hiding his snort. You answer while buttering some toast.

“We’ll let you know.”

Damian interjects, pointing towards Dick.

“You’re not invited.”

Dick's offended expression is back in full force. He looks to Bruce for ally ship.

"Bruce!"

"Leave it Dick."

The batman says with finality. The eldest son sulks in his chair for the rest of breakfast. Half way through the meal you turn to Bruce,

“John’s going on leave for a little, by the way.”

Bruce looks to you, questioning but not outright skeptical.

“Any reason in particular?”

You feel Damian's foot brush yours under the table, a little show of support.

“I just thought he could use a little time off.”

Bruce nods his head at what he apparently deems a sufficient answer, though you’re sure he’ll be looking into it further right after breakfast is done.

As breakfast wraps up, most of the bats head to the kitchen to help clean up and Damian tries not to rush you towards the front door too hastily.

“It’s rude to leave without saying goodbye, y’know.”

You sound incredible amused by his attempts to avoid his family embarrassing him any further.

“I’m sure they will forgive you.”

He closes the front door behind him and sighs a breath of relief. You grin at him and he tries to ignore it.

“Will you be visiting him?”

You nod, “We have a lot to talk about.”

He nods back and tries to give you what he hopes is a reassuring look. You reach out for his hand and point towards his chest.

“And you have to plan our next date.”

You say it like it’s a challenge, clearly very proud of how your date went. He holds your hand to his chest and gives a determined nod, already planning a date so good it’ll blow yours right out the water.

You lean in closer, trying not to smile when you hear shuffling from behind the door. Damian grimaces and you take his cheek in your hand, bringing him into a kiss. He kisses back, a real goodbye-for-now kind of kiss…

It doesn’t drown out the sound of the various whoops and whistles that come from the other side of the door though. The loudest of which being Dick's "Ohmygodohmygod!!" and Stephanie's squeal. You think you even hear Alfred say something like "Good show, Master Damian."

Damian groans as you part from the kiss with a cackle.

“Let me come with you.”

He almost begs, just to get away from the barrage of idiots waiting for him behind the door. You take both his cheeks in your hands and kiss his little frown.

“Nope.”

You simply say with a laugh and a half apologetic look before poofing away, leaving the littlest bat alone to suffer the torture of a supportive family.

─⋅⋆⁺𖤐

[sereia4skz]

Hiiii! Hope ur day is going swell!

I was hoping to request an polyot8skz x cat hybrid reader where she’s very comfortable with skz but gets shy around others and one time SKZ brought ateez over and she took a liking to seonghwa

oneshot | just smells good

pairing: poly!OT8 Stray Kids x fem!reader

genre: fluff

warnings:  cat hybrid!!reader, ft!Seonghwa of ATEEZ, possessiveness (cute, not toxic), clingy boys, light teasing

word count: ~1k

masterlist: A-Side (texts) | B-Side (written)

It’s not that you hate strangers. You just… prefer your boys.

They know how to read your body language, when your ears twitch, when your tail flicks, when you're nervous and need to be held or when you're cranky and need to be left alone. They know your favorite sleeping spots (Changbin’s lap), your favorite snacks (the tuna jerky Chan hides in the top cupboard), and how to soothe you when the world gets too loud (soft humming from Jeongin, whispered jokes from Jisung).

So when Chan casually announces, “ATEEZ are coming over tonight,” while stirring Lino's soup in the kitchen, your tail fluffs up on instinct.

“…Why?” you ask from your curled-up spot on the couch.

“They’re good friends, jagi. We figured it’d be nice to hang out again. You’ll be okay,” he says, gentle but firm, and leans down to kiss your forehead. “They won’t bite.”

“But I might,” you mumble.

Seungmin hears it from the hallway and cackles.

By the time the doorbell rings, you’re neatly tucked under a blanket between Hyunjin and Han. Seungmin had even spritzed your favorite calming scent in the air while pretending it was just to refresh the room. Felix set out a tray of fruit.

You’re ready. Kind of.

Until he walks in.

You’ve seen Seonghwa before, on TV, in photos, in passing during award shows. But up close? He’s ethereal. Elegant. Soft-voiced and tall and very clean-smelling. He has this calming aura like a sunbeam through a window at nap time.

And when his eyes meet yours, wide and curious, he smiles. “You must be Y/N.”

You stiffen. Eight heads turn to you at once like you’re about to be sacrificed.

But instead of shrinking, you stand slowly. Stretch. Blink once.

Then walk directly over to him.

Seonghwa doesn't flinch, even when you pause in front of him and tilt your head. “You’re not shy?” he asks softly.

“I am,” you say. “You’re just….”

He puts out his hand, and you can feel the shift in the room behind you. Eight distinct flavors of disbelief and mild panic.

You lean forward and sniff.

And Seonghwa, patient, respectful, still smiling, lets you. “Do I pass?”

You purr.

Back on the couch, Seungmin whispers, “Is this… a dream?”

“Did she just purr for him?” Han hisses, slack-jawed.

“Wasn’t she under a blanket five minutes ago?” Hyunjin sulks, legs drawn up. “She barely lets me hold her.”

Felix looks wounded. “I brought her strawberries, bro.”

“She growled at me last week for trying to take a burrito from her plate,” Changbin says, deeply offended.

And Chan? Chan watches with a tight jaw, arms folded.

You curl yourself into Seonghwa’s side without a second thought, tail flicking lightly against his arm.

He chuckles. “She’s sweet.”

“Yeah,” Minho mutters. “Our sweet girl.”

The rest of the evening is… fine. Mostly.

ATEEZ are nice. Loud, but polite. Seonghwa stays close to the outer edge of the chaos, which suits you fine, you sit near him, sometimes against him, occasionally letting him brush your ears or offer you bits of fruit, much to your boyfriends' growing horror.

You don’t even realize you're doing it.

To you, Seonghwa feels safe in the same way a sun-warmed window does: gentle heat, no pressure. You’re just comfortable. You’re still in the same room as your boys. Still watching them from across the way, flicking your ears at their laughter and playful swats.

But they notice. Oh, they definitely notice.

When ATEEZ leave and the door finally clicks shut, the shift in energy is instant.

You stretch with a satisfied yawn, tail curling like a question mark, and turn around to find eight faces staring at you.

"...What?" you ask, ears twitching.

“Have fun?” Chan says evenly, too evenly.

Your tail twitches.

Hyunjin flops onto the couch dramatically. “Can’t believe you betrayed me like this.”

“Betrayed?” you blink.

“You sat with him,” Jeongin adds, arms crossed.

“You purred for him,” Seungmin says.

“You let him pet you,” Felix pouts. “You barely even let me do that unless you're sleepy!”

“Were we not good enough?” Han whines, crawling toward you. “Was it the scent? The snacks? I can bathe. I promise.”

You back up a step, suddenly overwhelmed by the chorus of soft jealousy.

“I didn’t mean anything,” you murmur. “I just… liked his energy.”

Minho quirks a brow. “What, tall?”

“He smelled like vanilla and cedar,” you mumble, hugging yourself.

Eight voices groan in unison.

“That’s it. I’m buying new cologne,” Changbin mutters.

Felix clings to your waist. “I can smell like trees. I’ll roll in a forest if I have to.”

Jeongin buries his face in your back. “No more guests. Banned. This is betrayal. I’m telling the council.”

You laugh, flustered, but they’re clearly not joking, at least not entirely.

Chan comes over last. Looks you up and down slowly, hands finding your waist, gaze calm but firm.

“You’re ours, kitten,” he says. “It’s okay to be friendly, but you made us worry. You’ve never acted like that with anyone but us.”

“I didn’t mean to,” you murmur again, cheeks warm. “It was just… he's nice.”

Minho, sitting behind you now, wraps his arms around your waist. “Nice enough to cuddle strangers, huh?”

“He’s not a stranger.”

“Not the defense you think it is.”

You sigh and nuzzle your head against Chan’s chest, tail finally relaxing. “I’m sorry. Didn't want to bother you while you play with your friends”

“We’re not mad,” Seungmin says from the floor, his head in Han’s lap. “Just surprised." 

“And pouty,” Han corrects, petting his hair.

Chan kisses your crown. “Just don’t forget who you belong to, okay?”

You grin. “Never.”

Later that night, as you lie tangled between Felix and Hyunjin in bed, you catch a faint whiff of something new.

“…Why do you smell like cedar?”

Felix hums innocently. “No reason.”

Hyunjin snorts. “He dunked himself in my body wash.”

“You liked it earlier,” Felix says smugly, poking your cheek. “Just making sure I keep my spot.”

You smile, tail flicking as you curl deeper between them. "I like how you smell usually too."Honestly? You wouldn’t trade your boys for the world. But it’s kind of nice to see them fight for you sometimes.

taglist: @diekleinesuesse @tillaboo @felixsonlyrealwife @geni-627 @skz8riley @lezleeferguson-120 @pixie-felix @headfirstfortoro @alnex05 @baby-stay92 @encoredesires @androgynouscrownorbit @channiesluvrclub @my-neurodivergent-world @chims-dimple @bookswillfindyouaway @stellasays45 @angel-writes-skz-here @m-325 @0sunshinecryptid0 @beal-o @hug4helios @oksullen @rileylovescats @dreamyfelixx @yxna-bliss @turtledove824 @enhacolor @skzz0213 @hannahlue @purplelady85 @velvetmoonlght @inishij @bangchanspineapple @straykids4lifeee @peskybirdysya @gnabsss

taglist pt2: @zayn-210 @wolfhallows4 @katsukis1wife @sammhisphere

[muwapsturniolo]

Chapstick challenge 💋ྀིྀི M. Sturniolo

“Either this chapstick’s busted, or I’ve lost a sense.”

⟢ nothing but fluff tbh. bestfriends to lovers? thats really it.

divider by me!

“How’s this supposed to work?” Matt asks, eyeing the scattered tubes of Space Camp chapstick lined up along the kitchen island. The girl grins to herself as she sits down and props her phone up.

“We’re doing the Chapstick Challenge,” she says, adjusting the angle. “But like… our own version. Since we’re best friends, kissing’s obviously off the table.”

Matt plops down next to her, scratching at his scruff as he grabs one of the tubes. “Right, makes sense. So… how exactly does that work?”

She snatches the chapstick from his hand with a mock glare. “Simple. I put one on while you close your eyes. Then I blow air in your face, and you try to guess the flavor.”

Matt raises an eyebrow, half amused, half confused. “You’re gonna what now?”

“Blow air,” she repeats, fighting a laugh. “It’s like smelling it, but… creatively.” He snorts a laugh but nods, settling in. “Weird, but alright. Let’s do it.”

And so it begins—the phone’s recording, catching their laughter as they jump into the challenge.

“Okay, close your eyes,” she giggles, wiping the salted caramel off her lips with a makeup wipe. She pats them dry while Matt shuts his eyes, ready to guess.

She scans the last three tubes and grabs the fruit punch chapstick. Holding it up to the camera with a grin, she quickly applies a swipe.

“Ready?” she asks.

Matt nods, eyes squeezed shut.

She leans in and blows a gentle puff of air at his face, then leans back, watching for his reaction.

His brow furrows. He opens one eye. “Wait—did you even put any on? I don’t smell a thing.”

She laughs and nods. “Yep. Want me to try again?”

He shrugs. “Sure, maybe I missed it.”

She blows air again—still nothing.

“I’m not smelling anything. Do you?”

She puckers her lips, trying to catch the scent herself. “Yeah, I can smell it. Let me try once more.”

For the next few minutes, they repeat the process—reapplying chapstick, Matt sniffing the tube with his eyes closed—getting nowhere.

Finally, he sighs. “Either this chapstick’s busted, or I’ve lost a sense.”

She groans softly and reaches for the makeup wipe to clean off the chapstick, but before she can, Matt gently catches her wrist.

“Wait,” he says quietly, his voice low and earnest. “Let’s try something else. I want to figure it out.”

She arches a brow, crossing her arms, skeptical but curious. “How?”

He shrugs awkwardly, cheeks warming just a little. “Just… blow in my face again. Maybe it’ll help.”

She exhales a quiet laugh, muttering that it’s probably pointless, but leans in anyway. As she puckers her lips to blow, Matt moves first, closing the gap between them and pressing his lips softly but deliberately against hers.

Her whole body stiffens for a moment, shock flashing through her. Then, unexpectedly, she melts into the kiss, her eyelids fluttering closed as warmth spreads through her chest. The softness of his lips, the quiet rhythm of his breathing—it all feels sudden, electric, and strangely right.

Seconds stretch out like seconds and forever all at once. When they finally pull apart, their eyes lock, breaths coming a little too fast.

His voice trembles as he asks, “W-was it fruit punch?”

“Y-yeah… yeah, it was,” she stammers, her voice soft and hesitant, cheeks burning with warmth.

A thick silence settles between them—heavy, yet strangely soothing. They sit close, the air around them buzzing with unspoken words and sudden realization. Neither moves, caught in the moment where everything feels fragile and electric all at once.

The only sound is the quiet hum of the phone recording, capturing the space between their breaths—an unexpected pause filled with everything they’re too unsure to say.

Suddenly, Matt closes his eyes once more, his breathing steady but deliberate. Slowly, almost hesitantly, he extends his hand, pushing one of the remaining flavored chapsticks toward her—a quiet, unspoken invitation.

She looks down at the pineapple-flavored chapstick resting in his palm, her fingers brushing against his for just a second. A soft smile tugs at the corners of her mouth, her heart fluttering with a mix of nervousness and something warmer, something hopeful.

“…Are you going to kiss me again?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper, fragile yet filled with a tender hope.

Matt cracks one eye open just a little, and there’s a playful, almost boyish gleam in his gaze that makes her chest tighten. “Oh, I’m definitely kissing you again,” he says, voice low and playful.

“Good,” she murmurs, scooching over so she's closer to him, their knees touching. “Because I was kind of hoping you would.”

The air between them thickens, charged with playful tension and unspoken promises, as their smiles widen and the challenge takes on a whole new meaning.

[bkghq]

ᝰ GRWM ft. y/n & bakugo

— INCLUDES pro hero! bakugo katsuki x pro hero fem! reader

— CONTENT WARNING ⋮ v wholesome bkg, lwk ooc i think, y/n being a woman of taste

— BONUS ARYA ⋮ i absolutely love this sm!! i think im gonna turn this pro hero yn/ tiktoker thingie into a series hehe

"Hey guys get ready with me for work while i tell you 10 facts about me and my boyfriend!" Y/n spoke to the camera, getting ready for her patrol, already wearing her hero suit.

"So me and my boyfriend— Katsuki, we met back in highschool. We were classmates and started dating around our second year." She said using toner pads on her face and neck.

She then moved on to the next step in her skincare routine, "Next i'm using this COSRX vitamin c serum— which by the way my very amazing boyfriend got me! i swear this guy does not, and i mean does not let me run out of anything—" She applied the serum on her face with the dropper, "— it's like he has this magical power of knowing when my essentials are almost finish and he'll just get it for me, UNasked!"

"In our relationship, Katsuki does all the cooking." She continues, now using the Milk makeup cooling water under eye gel but not before showing it to the camera. "And yes he definitely is the better cook— I try to cook from time to time, and he really appreciates when i do, but it is as clear as day that his cooking is wayyyy better than mine."

"Oh and he does the dishes too!" She adds smiling at the camera.

"When me and Kats met, we absolutely hated each other." She said putting emphasis on the word hated. "I used to call him potty mouth, and he used to call me spoilt brat, so it was quite shocking when he told me he liked me!" The girl chuckled putting on her moisturiser from clinique.

"Even though I am a pro hero myself and earn hefty, 'suki pays all our bills—" she said next putting on her sunscreen. "— He insists that it's his job since he's the 'man in our relationship, and it's a man's responsibility to provide for his girl' girls, take tips, don't settle for less!" She added acting like an older sister.

"Okay I'm done with my skincare, so moving on to the minimal makeup i do everyday." She said, while showing her too faced concealer.

"Even though he comes off as extremely mean and rude on camera, 'Ki is one of the most thoughtful people you will ever come across, he will not think twice before doing something for the people he loves." She spoke to the camera, unaware of the new company of the said man, who now stood at the door watching her, his figure also coming in the frame.

"Now im using this sacheu lip stain, this is literally my holy grail! it lasts me all day. I could be fighting like 10 villains and it will stay intact." She remarked, applying the lip stain.

"Fact number seven, we never go to bed mad at each other. It's a rule Kats made. No matter how big the fight we always resolve it before hitting the bed, and honestly it's such a healthy way to deal with fights and arguments." She said as a smile made her way to her aswell as Katsuki's face. A soft look in his eyes, as he watched her, arms crossed over his chest.

Y/N moves on to her blush. "Even though we've been dating for a long time now, we never stop going on dates!" She says putting blush on the apple of her cheeks. "This is a great way to keep your relationship interesting i feel like, since due to our work there are times when we are unable to see each for weeks at times."

"On that note— when either of us get assigned any mission overseas, we make sure to facetime atleast once a day even if it's just for 10 minutes. time differences suck, but we pick a time which is suitable for us both." The girl says as she puts her hair down from her messy bun.

"Last but not the least—"

"Is that i love this dummy here s'fuckin' much." Katsuki grumbles, finally making his presence known as he makes his way towards the girl, kissing her forehead. Y/n chuckles at his sudden appearance, because he wasn't one to make constant presence in her tiktok videos.

"You'll be late for patrol now ge'ddup dumbass." He says with no bite behind his words, giving her another kiss this time on her lips.

"Yeah!—" She smiles up at him, and looks back at the camera again, "See you guys soon, b-bye stay safe!" She concludes, hitting pause on the record button on her phone.

"You look cute today." Katsuki hums, as Y/n gets up from her chair, interlocking her hands around Katsuki's neck, his hands instinctively grabbing her waist.

"Thanks ki." She replies with a smile, standing on her tiptoes and kissing the blond man deeply.

Later that day, after patrol when Y/N posted that video. Not expecting it to blowup as much as it did, getting around ten million views, 2.5 million likes and a few hundred thousand comments.

@/ynsluvr : LOOK AT THE WAY HE LOOKS AT HER !!!! @/greatexplosionmurdermypussy : if he ain't like this I DONT WANT HIM @/dekusillegitimatechild : omg queen drop links for the products @/pinky : ugh! get married already! @/chargeboltofficial : mama e papa MAMA E PAPA @/redriot : bakubro this all is so manly! proud of you @/serophane : @/chargeboltofficial he's so whipped LOL @/deku : I'm so glad kacchan treats you well y/n san ☺️

She sure was having a field day reading all these comments.

THNX 4 READING <3 RBS + COMMENTS APPRECIATED ིྀ

[undyingdecay]

Okay, hear me out with this. John Walker and little miss independent who always has to do things herself and whose brain is constant going a million miles a minute so John Walker fucks her dumb so her brain turns off for more than 5 minutes

it’s not that you don’t like him. you do. you just don’t need him. and you make that clear from the second he tries to open a door for you, or reach for a box on a high shelf, or suggest you maybe don’t handle something on your own.

"i’ve got it."

you always do. quick with your hands, quicker with your mouth, sharp edges hidden behind a crooked grin. you move like you’re being chased by your own thoughts — a thousand things to do, a dozen problems to fix, and not enough hours in the damn day.

and it drives john insane.

not because he wants you to be some delicate little thing. no, he likes your fight. likes the way you snip at him when he hovers too close, the way you glare when he calls you cute��with that smirk. but what kills him, what has his palms itching and his jaw tight, is watching you run yourself ragged. the way your brain never fucking slows down, the way you get that tight, faraway look in your eyes like you’re already thinking about the next thing before this one’s even done.

so yeah. maybe it starts with an argument. one of those nothing fights that turns loud fast — you snarking at him to mind his own business, him snapping back about how you never fucking let anyone help you. it gets heated. you get mean. and he grins at you like a wolf, something sharp in his eyes, and says the words that change everything.

"y’know what, baby? i think i finally figured out how to shut you up."

and then he’s on you.

it’s messy. teeth, hands, clothes dragged out of the way because neither of you can be bothered to undress properly. john’s bigger than you — broad and heavy and so fucking smug about it. he manhandles you like it’s nothing, hands bruising your hips, one arm wrapped around the small of your back to keep you pinned beneath him.

and you fight it. of course you do. sharp little barbs on your tongue, telling him you don’t need him, don’t need this, can handle yourself. but every time you open your mouth he snaps his hips forward, cock thick and punishing and perfect in a way that makes your head spin, and whatever smart thing you were about to say turns into a broken little gasp.

he lives for it.

"there she is," he murmurs against your neck, voice low and smug and rough-edged. "knew you had it in you, baby. all that attitude, all that fight — turns out you just needed a good fuck to shut that busy little brain off."

and it’s true. because by the time he really gets going — deep, relentless, one big hand fisted in your hair to keep you exactly where he wants you — you’re gone. glassy-eyed, slack-jawed, lips parting around soft, pathetic little noises you don’t even hear yourself making.

he fucks you stupid. wrecks you so thoroughly you forget what you were mad about, forget your own name, forget how to do anything but take it. and he’s so fucking proud of himself for it. talks you through it in that slow, drawling voice of his, smug and a little cruel.

"what’s that, baby? yeah, that’s what i thought."

when it’s over, you’re boneless. dazed. head resting against his shoulder while he pets your hair like he didn’t just rail you half-unconscious. and for the first time in weeks, your mind is quiet.

john walker was made to fuck you dumb.