#but that patient is so nice though he even encourage me and assure me to relax when my ci look somewhere else

[collecting--stardust]

Arrived at the hospital at 8.30 because of some issues with the driver and the terrible traffic, didn't managed to take my lunch, get showered by the rain and the patient and my clinical instructor laughed at me for got two different skill assessment and apparatus mixed up 👍

[perlen-gold]

Of Fairest Flame

Yeah, I'm TOTALLY on time for this (wait, it's already November you say?!) but this is something I've been working on for @ainurweek for Day 9: Melkor I Mairon

(I have something for Day 1 - 8 too... just not yet finished... it's a good thing I'm never late.)

Read on on AO3 or under the cut as it's so long 😆 (and also totally unrevised ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ).

Reblogs and comments are very much appreciated ❤️ though I can understand if you're too bored to read!

Also, I'd like to thank the people here on tumblr who encouraged me and assured me this was a nice fandom. Having been a wholly silent part of this fandom for years and years this is the first thing I have picked up the courage to share and I want to tell you, guys, THANK YOU! ❤️❤️❤️

At Mairon’s feet the whole world was made of gold.

When he passed, even the black-oblivion, obsidian-sleek walls of Utumno lit brazen-bright. Pits of bonfires woke beneath the iced rocks, and gilded flame-tips licked at his limbs from the sheer walls of Angband, polished to hot embers and glowing coals in his presence.

Wherever he trod was the flame of his hair. However dark the night, its lustrous strands wove glowing rubies into the roaming night. Whatever darkness he summoned around him was pierced by the golden gaze of his eyes.

His shadow dissolved into a golden crown when his fairness shone forth as he willed it to as leaping water over steep stones and cleaving rocks.

And I saw him take it, this heated glow of his as he had taken the rising crown from my hands. Oh, I had stared at him, harder and deeper than any mountain flesh or gaping chasm. I could have struck him down, torn him asunder as easily as I called spitting heights and depths to my biding. And yet his flame never even flickered in my direction. Not even when scornfully he took the gleaming jewels, heady with his disdain, from me. For my little flame did not shape mountains and chasms.

Gilded iron was his alloy and will his anvil.

It was beauty alone that Mairon shaped.

Patient, or as patient as I would, I watched him call forth in the forge the spearing splendor of my crown and the hideous shape of Orcs under the skies just as meticulously.

There is a fearsomeness in unpleasing appearance and Mairon knew it well. The dread Orcs inspire in the common man was of his design also, naturally.

So was the stronghold of Angband. A rock-hewn fortress of efficiency, warfare and secrecy, I never tired to wander its complexity, wondering and, with all my heart, occasionally longing to fell it just to see how Mairon would rebuild and recreate its terrible beauty all over again, though I never told him so. He knew anway, of course, and kept his keen golden eye on me like a wolf guarding its prey.

Yes, ghastly they were, the creatures Mairon unleashed upon his foes, the heinous Orcs and gruesome goblins, mountain-trolls and blood-teethed wolves, swathed in the blinding darkness of my Balrogs and fire-drinking dragons.

Mairon, however, ceased to be fair in battle.

Oh, he could have seduced most of his adversaries, forced onto week knees with his sorcery many more and all the rest. But a cobra will not feed upon limp flesh, the cheetah must race, the falcon swoop to pierce the songbird onto its claw.

And so, with his flickering flame-smile, Sauron, as they called him, set a different trap entirely to spring.

The light upon his face was an uncanny ally of his.

Illuminating the finest of his bones to marble-cutting flawlessness.

Chiseled heights, darkness and light were there ought to be neither, glowing shades and whisper-gleaming rays of sunlight beneath a blackened sky.

His voice rang the air like silvered iron, mellifluous and haunting at once, as commanding as a furnace and as tender as a caressing hand, his laugh bright sunlit pearls and cruelly suffocating ashes.

At the dawn, on the shore of battle, the highest elven kings, fiercest queens and most spirited warriors rode for him without hesitation. Sauron, the cruel, they murmured stern-faced among them, and he was indeed wickeder than any Orc or Balrog of mine.

They set out and rode and stroke to earn their place facing him, swords held aloft, their steadfast resolve soaring to shield their people and beloved ones and let detested Morgoth’s lieutenant perish at last.

What they met utterly unnerved, unrooted, unhinged them.

Comeliness.

Handsomeness.

Fairness.

Pulchritude.

Beauty.

Those are mere words. Spoken tumbling winter-leaves struggling to paint a hail storm.

He was all and naught.

And more.

And more.

And more of it.

Both women and men trembled in mesmerized dread and eerie, bloodcurdling want, gaping upon him. Intoxicating pleasure rose in them when they first caught his eye. It was like pain to them.

 By then Marion’s battle-born strides would have become languid-long strolls. The few who still had any morsels of wit left about them tried to break away their eyes from the light-infused apparition frantically, searching for the malice of his mace, gripping their swords with their sweat-slippery fingers.

It always charmed him into the smallest, most dazzlingly curving smile. They almost never realized that to Mairon the sword tip’s deadly dance was just another art, another craft to design and shape.

The most valiant were always wild on their obedient horses to shoot like arrows at him.

Towards the end, they all fell, crawled, cursed, glowered, quivered under the tip of his iron-clad foot. I have always thought him nearly never more beautiful than when he coaxes his cruelty like a lover’s kiss before the bite.

Around them their friend’s torn faces and daughters’ and sons’ smeared lips, honeyed with crimson blossoms and singing gold flowers. The unnatural light painted the blood-gasping ground and changed their fallen comrade-in-arms’ gruesome wounds to crimson-cold brocade.

Mairon had them between his teeth till they died of bliss and horror alike.

Until they sighed and shrieked and moaned and wept.

 “You are Sauron,” they would utter, staring, accusing, spitting at him.

Oh, yes, Mairon said. Smiled. Oh, yes, yes.

Sometimes the very young ones, well-trained boys and girls, would beg him then. Then, Mairon’s rose-soft, velvet-curling lips smiled even more beautiful.

Around him the thrusting, piercing, blood-lilting, iron-soaked air was limned with gold. In this pause, this endless biding of time against the grey-spraying portrait of misting blood and blooming battle he liked to pull off his helmet at last. Slow and delicately this one, rapidly in a great sweeping arch the other time.

It is the last thing they always see.

The reaching length of his hair curling into sunlit waves of gleaming water ripples, his sun-shaming light pouring as endless waterfalls.

The pinkish tip of his tongue a glimpse between his curving gold-dusted lips in the moment of his kill.

In the blink of a startled eye, Mairon’s beauty rippled into a haunting, living, wraith-like phantom.

The high-browed elven lord’s eyes always widened and their lips spit on the ground before his last smile.

Before he opened them as ripe figs bursting on touch.

When I came forth from my fortress, the ground shook with satisfying anticipation and a rumble swept through our armies, his and mine, mine and theirs. As I stepped forward without forewarning, the roiling battle was surging under Mairon’s sway as usual.

A draught of wind … I could listen to the softness of Mairon’s petal-perfect skin in it. I could savor the unnatural shadows illuminating his brow and cheekbones in the exact, precisely perfect way whispering across his features and taste the whipping of his hair in my mouth, scarlet-sizzling as coals. On his flaming head his crown – for it was more iron crown than helmet – was a smooth black somehow enlightening the flawlessness of his features even more. His iron-slinking armor, sharp as curving wolf teeth, clung to the virtue of his shape. His fiery hair, tamed in the forge only, was afly like shimmering birds. I saw it whip through the air as Mairon turned abruptly around even before the roaring Orcs next to me blinked at my sudden presence.

At once, I saw the flare in him bright as sunlit gemstones as I set foot on the battle field, his intricate thoughts shooting like spider’s webs into a myriad of calculations at once.

The mind of any other Valar and their servants are like lily-bedded ponds. Deep their water runs but slow, and the pebble thrown barely bounces across the surface. The ripples are soon gone.

Mairon’s mind, however, darted like fire prancing, dazzling to watch its hundred and thousand swift flickers.

I seldom partook in battle and, oh, hard it was becoming already to stifle my laughter.

Promptly, I could see his clever embers stirred in their battle-focused ash-bed, swiftly and instantaneously.

Ah, how often had I thwarted his meticulous plans in the past before for no obvious reason – not obvious to him, that is – at all?

Sometimes I had leapt into action when he would have stalled my impatient hand, sought to preserve what I annihilated and at other times I had cherished what Mairon had deemed worthless.

So wary was his gaze as it first flew into my direction like a sleeping volcano’s first spark that I could sense a thousand thoughts ignite into a hundred interweaving sparks at once. He knew I was seldom to do what he bid me to and never to follow a plan to its end.

Oh, but he was a quick-bright little flame, and whatever havoc I wrought upon his elaborate schemes he would never be surprised nor deceived twice and what could scratch upon the perfection of his composure once never did even reflect on the polished marble sheen of his features ever again.

Oh, but he knew me so well indeed as the fire knows the logs it steadily consumes. It had become increasingly hard to catch him unawares, to make mark any impression upon his clever, ever-calm countenance.

A thousand wiles I had played upon him through the ages already and a thousand predictions and presumptions were lapping at his iron-clad feet now.

As soon as I set foot on the ground it trembled and Mairon’s gold flame hair was afly.

Instantaneously, his face turned in the direction of my arrival and, though he was far away on a lone hill, in the midst of battle, a commander of forces who would be commanded by none other, I could see his shimmering beauty whip around.

Belike, I would seek his advice or perhaps I would undo all his careful webs and sunder all his admirable designs upon a mere whim of mine –  he was fascinated and loath to watch me do it.

So, as the ground rumbled beneath my iron-clad footfalls and even the darkest creatures of my armies shrank away in fright, I could see him not step back like them but instead devise and foretell a thousand things to be prepared for me, to predict my wisdom – of which he doomed little upon me – and envision the chaos I could wreck.

Bright could I see the light of his mind as he drew it, keen as the nimble blade he was wilding.

A lesser being he was, yes, so much more fragile and less mighty than I. But none of the other Valar, let alone their servants, possessed his mind’s spark-gleaming quickness, second only – or so I hoped to believe – to my own infinite-stretching mind.

Golden thoughts sparked within it, darting as light, trying to decipher the cause and – more important in Mairon’s glittering mind – the ends of my wild stepping into battle.

Again, I almost burst out laughing.

My hammer, however, dragged a gaping gorge behind me. I did not lift it nor unleash its deadly power and that, I think, a brimming in my chest, is what drew Mairon’s suspsicion most.  

From my path, my army swayed, Orcs and darker creatures shrinking back.

But I am a god and it took me scarcely more than a few strides before I reached him.

Mairon’s face was like marble showing neither dent nor impression whatsoever. If I had knelt at his feet his splendid expression would have shattered – but in my mind the idea I carried within me was of another kind and I brimmed with the anticipation of it.

Ah, how unearthly, uncannily, unrelentingly beautiful he was!

Mairon, His sword reluctantly held, raised his gold-infused gaze at me.

Inside the dazzling gold there were cold calculation and smug disdain aglitter.

Ah.

That potent mixture of mocking smugness and complacent taunt.

I have never told him that, though lesser in being, immortality and power, Mairon’s visage bore one fruit none other in Eä could offer.

In all other beings I had seen and sniffed it, beasts and birds, elves and orcs, wild things and god-like creatures alike. The other Valar, too, I had seen the sheen of it upon them – why, even Manwë – and it had filled me with glee unimaginable.

Not him, though.

Never him.

Forest of giles, oceans quick as arrows and mountains sharp as knives, I could see a whole world blazing in his aureate eyes.

Even smug disdain, if he had the nerve for it – and Mairon almost always did. Even, in those rarest moments when he was most unguarded, trust.

Amidst the tides of our forces I stood still in front of him. On Mairon’s flaming hair his crown – for it was more iron crown than helmet – was a smoke grey, somehow illuming the brilliant symmetry of his features even more, his iron-slinking armor sharp as wolf teeth clinging to the sculptured fairness of his shape.

That fierce serpent beauty flashed. Yes, my lord? What is it that drives you forward to my meek reign?

The scarlet flame of his hair tangling around him in a windless breeze, a luscious bow, mockingly coy, of curving lips and white teeth. I could hear his voice tingle in my head.

Having left your hideout, is there something you ask of me?

Ah.

Insolence and impudence. Arrogance. Amusement.

A whole world but never fear.

I could have wrapped my hands around his slender neck and squeezed without even a gleam of scare in him. I could have lifted my hammer, torn the earth beneath his feet, dictated the skies to strike him with thunder and lightning.

Ages and aeons ago, in the sweltering gleam of Aulë’s forge, he had spotted me among the darkness long before I revealed myself. His eyes shone in the dark brighter than any cat’s. Instead of raising his voice, crying wolf and havoc for help, he watched me and I could feel his gold-gaze lingering.

I went back to my underground halls that day, pondering that brazen insolence just to return the next night trying to break his unwavering gaze.

“How do you know I will not smite you where you stand?” I asked him upon the next day in the deserted forge when I let go of the shadows at last to bend over him.

He cocked his head like a bird and returned, smug as a raven:

“How will you know I will not betray you where you sit?”

The cheek! I was a poisonous viper and he was another and, oh, how fiercely I wanted him to be mine, mine, mine then and mine alone!

His soft neck was between my hands before even he could elude me. Instantaneously, the gold in his eyes sparked with realization and horrified shock of what I was about to do in a split heartbeat ere I was upon him. His lustrous hair whipped like gold ribbons in a wind where there was none, his skin was iridescent in his otherworldly apparition-beauty.

His gilt-rimmed pupils dilated but it was already too late.

I pressed my mouth amidst the surging battle forces upon his pearly lips and kissed.

Flame-swift, Mairon’s rage was so instantaneous I had to swallow my cackling laughter just to prolong the touching of our lips a little longer before he could defy me.

A conflagration met my mouth and I, made of ice and fire, allowed him to singe me till I felt actual pain for I burnt and grinned now beholding the utter outrage in Mairon’s gold-limned eyes.

I could not fathom what incensed him more – the fact that I would do this outside the secrecy of his sweltering bed chambers or the incidental truth that I had accomplished to take him yet again by utter surprise.

Suddenly, the hot-white rage came, ever more terrifying and beautiful than a thunderstorm.

He looked like he might have struck me down then and there, me, in front of everyone.

Then Mairon turned – not because he could not but would not strike me – and away he  went like a conflagration to ravage the battlefield, descending upon our enemies as the sun, golden-bright and blind-burning, veiled in the light of stars and comets, and I watched him, his beautiful blaze transforming into a wraith-like furnace which he cast upon the enemy so that neither elven nor mortal survivor – if they survived – would be able to look  at a beautiful face, be it fair maiden or lovely lad or sweet rose, and bear it ever again.

As my thunder-laugh broke from my chest the ground around me shook and shuddered.

Pierced as though scorched, the swelling of my lower lip seared.

Oh, I was looking forward to golden vengeance he would spin to wreak upon me.

I laughed.

[dreambirb]

OC x Canon Dynamic Rambling

Ft. Kaeya and Poca (mentioned OC)

The short version is basically that they are best friends to lovers. Poca's the shy and anxious one and Kaeya is the charming and flirtatious one. (This came out a lot longer than I anticipated. Don't ask me if I'm okay-) Here are things I think they would like about each other:

Kaeya's Pros

Likes his friendliness, it makes her feel more at ease when talking to him. Poca struggles a bit when it comes to socializing and tends to overthink. She doesn't worry as much when she interacts with Kaeya.

Likes how mysterious he is. Poca's very curious and likes to learn things about people, sometimes it borders nosiness. (It's why despite being a shy person, I consider her an extrovert. She enjoys socializing bc she can learn more about people she likes.) Him being almost impossible to read would probably be one of the main things that draws her to him.

Likes how reliable he is. The way Kaeya does things may be unconventional to most, but Poca likes how he's always able to get things done. She respects how much work he is willing to put in order to help someone even when he doesn't get recognition for it. Along with her older sister and kinda sorta Coatl, I feel like Kaeya would be one of the people she relies on the most and doesn't want to let down.

Likes his reassurance. Poca admires his confidence and how sure he is during situations, it makes her feel safe. Even though she likes to craft and make art whether it be sewing, stitching, or drawing, she does have her doubts and hesitates thanks to overthinking and anxiety. Sometimes, she ends up scrapping ideas. It's because of Kaeya's assurance and assistance that she doesn't give up on her ideas as much.

Likes his timid side. She often gets a bit flustered by his usual confidence, so she thinks it's endearing when she sees him be more reserved and shy, especially when he's doing an act of service and becomes timid at the thought of others knowing what he's doing for them. It makes her feel more comfortable around him because she understands how he feels and wants to reassure him the same way he does for her. (Spoilers for his Hangout! I would like to imagine that Poca's shy about dancing and Kaeya encourages her to try it with him. He also seemed to be shy about singing in his Hangout and so I'd imagine Poca would be happy to encourage him in turn.)

Likes that he listens to her. As I said previously, Poca is a very curious and nosy person. She may come off as shy at first, but she does enjoy drama. Even though Kaeya is secretive, he does also enjoy gossip. I'd imagine Poca would ramble about her travels in Teyvat and Kaeya would listen to her patiently. It's not always as transactional as that though, especially not when they grow closer. Unlike Kaeya, Poca isn't good at hiding her feelings and wears them her emotions on her sleeve. If she's having a hard time, she trusts him enough to tell him about it and is grateful that he's there to listen when she feels alone.

Likes his voice. It's very calming to her, alluring, and soothing to listen to. It's another thing about him that makes her feel safe. It's what she likes about him the most physically speaking.

Poca's Pros

Likes her honesty. I'm not sure if he would say it out loud, but Kaeya admires how honest Poca is to herself. He keeps his cards close to his chest and doesn't reveal many things to other people because he learned what could happen if were to do so the very hard way through his confrontation with Diluc. Despite this, he admires how Poca is able to be so open. It nice how direct she is about her feelings and how straightforward she is when it comes to saying what she thinks. It makes communicating with her easier. Even if others think she's strange and even if that hurts her, she doesn't stop being herself.

Likes her creativity. Kaeya thinks Poca's ideas and creations are impressive. Seeing how focused she is when she works and watching how excited she gets when she succeeds is something that puts a smile on his face and makes him want to help her bring her ideas to life. He thinks it's endearing hearing the passion in her voice when she explains her ideas to him and seeing the joy in her face when she is able to make them come true. He wants to be there to watch her wildest dreams come true and to help her make them come true.

Likes her unpredictability. If there's anything that attracts Kaeya, it's spontaneity. It's strange. Even though Poca's feelings are very easy to read, it's her mood swings that are unpredictable. Poca has many sides to her, they all slowly begin to show as she grows closer to someone. Kaeya finds this entertaining and attractive in the same way that Poca is attracted to his mystique. He likes how there always seems to be a side to her that he hasn't seen yet, it makes bonding with her and getting to know her exciting.

Likes her humor. Kaeya finds Poca's reaction to certain things amusing and her directness to be funny. He often laughs at the jokes she makes. This makes Poca feel happy and a bit flustered, she likes seeing him express joy and feels proud of herself for being able to make him laugh.

Likes how knowledgable she is. This is another thing Kaeya finds both entertaining and admirable about her. Poca knows a lot and has learned a lot from her travels. She likes to learn about stuff, especially obscure things that little people know. It makes it all the more exciting when she gets to share it with those she likes spending time with. Kaeya is no exception. She likes sharing what she has learned with him and he enjoys listening to what she wants to share. Given how obscure some of the subjects Poca talks about are and how some discoveries are hidden in specific regions that she has traveled to, Kaeya is almost always interested in what Poca has to say.

Likes how understanding she is. Kaeya respects how considerate Poca can be. She's open to not just learn about things for the sake of it, but also to try and grow from it. Even though Kaeya's methods are unconventional in the eyes of many, Poca sees how effective they can be and sees the effort he puts into his work. It's something Kaeya appreciates about her.

Likes her face. I feel like with the facial features she has, Kaeya would think she looks endearing and so it's the physical trait he likes about her the most.

Alright, that's everything I can think of. Sorry that this is so long >_<

[hernando-valdez]

"Shit, I hear you there though. Even with my workouts, I ain't nearly as fast as I used to be. If someone tried to chase me right now I'd probably fuck up my knee and end up on the sidewalk. But don't let her hear you say that too loud or else my house is gonna look like a flan factory in no time." Thought the holidays were coming up and Nando was sure that his mother would go into overdrive for her first holiday season back in Tonopah. But he couldn't really complain. He was grateful to have her around and even more grateful that he got to have so much of his family around. It was bittersweet still, since it made him worry that much more. "But I will do my best to assure that..most of that bag makes it home," he teased with a wink.

Hernando listened to her as she spoke, knowing exactly what she was talking about. Siblings were hard to start but being the oldest one, trying to keep them together, it was an even harder job. Especially if your parents had done a number on you. To this day, he and his sister viewed their father in a very different light. "Well that's your problem, you're trying to do something nice for everyone when you should be doing something nice for you. I mean you got plenty of people to watch Landon, me and my Mom included. Though he may come back wanting to watch nightly novelas so I'd be wary of that, he teased, "But the two of you on a little trip? Drive a couple hours out, wind in your hair, maybe get to a beach. Come on, I love that for you. You can't let anything stop you, there's always gonna be something you have to do, Lyds. Always. Never gonna be the right time, all of that, all of the things you'd tell me if I were you," he added, his smile softening so she knew he wasn't trying to make her feel guilty but encouraged. And he worried that she'd spend so much time trying to get the timing right she'd never actually do it.

"No surgery, thankfully. Just some new meds for her blood pressure and stuff. She definitely needs to be eating more greens but she loves her sweets so much. We're learning, you know? And I'm trying to be patient. After my Dad passed she just got so...sad. Sadder than I've ever seen her before, you know? And lately she's been..smiling more. gets to see her sisters and her family and bothering me about grandkids since apparently I'm well past my prime." He laughed as he thought about it and shook his head. He knew that her best bet for that was his sister anyway. "She says she worries about me and I just worry about her more." Not that she didn't have any reason to be worried about him but that was besides the point. "The shop though? Always good. We're entering holiday season so you know lots of table pieces, last minute gifts, we're going big on importing some wreaths and poinsettia to really get in the Christmas game. It's gonna be awesome. We already got orders coming in so in a couple of weeks my work schedule is gonna be crazy and I'll be helping out with some deliveries too. Throw on a Santa hat and all."

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying. I left my splits on that football field over twenty years ago -- all I’m left with is my right hip popping every time I bend over to grab something out of the oven.” She couldn't help but chuckle at his unwarranted encouragement, playfully nudging him. Until now, she hadn't realized how much she'd missed her friend in the short time he'd been gone. His seemingly boundless enthusiasm and positive attitude had always brought a smile to her face, even in the worst of times. Reflecting on the last couple of months, she realized how much she could have used it. “It’s your lucky day, then, because I made way too many for one batch. You’ll bring some home to your mom, won’t you? I can’t promise they’ll be up to her standards — I’ve had that women’s flan before, so I know she can bake me out of existence any day. I can pack you up a bag before you leave.”

Taking a bite of the croissant, Lydia couldn't help but compare the flavor to when she had Roman working away in the kitchen. He'd always been far more skilled in the art of baking than she had, having gone to culinary school and maintained a passion throughout the years. They weren't bad — no, in fact, they were quite delicious — but they were devoid of that same je ne sais quoi. “You’re telling me — ha! Doing something for myself? Every time I even attempt to do something nice, it ends up blowing up in my face. Example one being hosting a nice dinner, only for it to end in my sister acting like a bitch and leaving with my brother after only fifteen minutes. I understand that grief makes you act out, but I just wanted, like, one nice thing for us all to do together. Maybe you’re right, though. Maybe what I need to do is say fuck it and get away. Landon’s Thanksgiving break is coming up — maybe we just do our own thing.” Lydia let out a sigh, a sweet smile tugging at her cheeks as Hernando spoke of his mother. “You know what? I wouldn’t put it past her. Seriously, though, is she doing okay? Did she need any surgeries or anything?” Lydia reached over and grabbed a few napkins, handing them to her friend. “I bet. It’s good that you have each other now, as up in your business as she might be. You’re always welcome to get away at our place, you know — or, better yet, drop her off with us while you get a well-deserved drink.” She offered playfully. “Things at the shop are okay, too?”

[royalsweetteaa]

Losing your virginity with Cevans character 🙈🙈

A bit unsure if this is an ask/thot or a prompt for a HC of the CEVANS characters but I’m guessing it’s the second one? Please feel free to resend if I misunderstood -

Anyway as a virgin myself, I always imagine how it would be like to loose it to anyone of them because they’re all so fucking hot.

Here’s my HC of how loosing your virginity with the boys would be like (in my opinion) -

18+ ONLY | MINORS DNI

Steve Rogers

Endgame!Steve especially would be so nice and careful with you if you are a virgin. He would whisper the sweetest things in your ear and praise you for taking him so well. ‘Good girl’ is a pet name he will constantly call you for each inch of him you take. If it hurts, he will suggest prepping you more. He really doesn’t want your first experience to be painful, but if you don’t care about the pain you will have to convince him it’s okay. When you have all of him inside of you, he will patiently wait for you to get used to his size before he moves. Even though being inside your virgin pussy sends him to heaven and drives him feral, he has enough self control to wait when you’re ready. It will forever be his honor that he is your first. He will not go for another round because he believes you need rest now that you have a stretched and sore pussy, but he will happily offer you a few hours later if you beg him real nice.

Ransom Drysdale

Ransom (in contrast to Steve) is an impatient man, and I think he would internally groan if you admitted you were a virgin. It’s not because you are a virgin (I think it would be hell of an ego boost for him to be your first time), but it’s more the fact that he knows he will have to be careful when he so badly wants to go all out and fuck you to oblivion. He has lots of experience but only with other experienced women, so it becomes a new challenge he is willing to go through for you. He will be as gentle as possible when he pushes the tip and the rest of length inside of you, only stopping when you tell him to. He trusts you’ll communicate since it’s not like he is a mind reader, and I honestly don’t think he can properly tell if you’re in pain or just being a horny mess unless you’re screaming bloody murder. He will start thrusting when he assumes it’s the right time to do so. He’s skilled in terms of sex and knows just the right things to make you drip in pleasure quickly. He will whisper the filthiest things to get you going, - “mmmh, you sure are dripping a lot for a virgin. Your cunt must be so thirsty for cock, and she’s finally getting it from none other than me.”

Andy Barber

Andy’s the king of patience & reassurance. He will assure you that while it might hurt, you’ll get used to it. “It’s normal for your first time to be a bit uncomfortable, but you’ll quickly get used to it and it will only feel good from then on”, He will say. He is a realist, and while it’s important for him that you feel as much pleasure as possible for your first time, he thinks it’s also important to remind you of all the time in the world you have to practice making it feel the more better. He will be gentle when he takes you, encouraging you with each step that you’re doing great and that everything will be just fine. Unlike Ransom, he’s one to pick up on pain when he sees it on your face, and will immediately slow down to give you time to get used to the foreign invasion of your cunt. He then resumes when you ease at him and tell him to proceed at a faster pace.

Jake Jensen

Jake would feel immense pressure knowing you’re a virgin, but would try his best to hide it so he doesn’t make you all the more nervous. He will convince you it’s for the best that you to take the lead by having you insert his dick inside at your own pace in cowgirl position (it’s his fav position too so win/win). He will share how good it feels to be inside of you which makes you blush at his praise. He’s the type to express how he feels and how it’s all because of you - which gives you so much confidence. IF you want him to top, he will carefully insert himself but occasionally stutter his hips harshly out of the lack of self control he has because he can’t help it. He will mutter apologies profusely and try to concentrate as he tries to make it a pleasant experience for you. He cares so much about how you feel and he feels shameful at how his body keeps betraying him, but it all ends well with him giving you the pleasure needed for it not to hurt so much at all. He will crack a few jokes for the session to ease the nervous tension between the two of you.

Ari Levinson

Ari is the one to be the most chill about you being a virgin. Sure, he believes it’s important to set boundaries beforehand but otherwise he doesn’t think there’s needed to make a big deal out of it. He thinks the more casual it’s treated, the less worried you’ll be. “Oh, you’re a virgin? That’s okay, all we gotta do is take things slow and it’ll be fine. There’s nothing to be stressed about, sugar. You trust me, right?” After lots of prepping with fingerfucking and pussy eating, he reminds you to take deep breaths to make it easier for him to seep inside of you. Before you know it, he’s bottomed out with his cock stretching you to the fullest. His calm demeanor and sweet kisses around your face manages to calm you so much, you barely feel any anxiety. He will tickle you lightly around your hips as he holds them, making you giggle which assures him you’re doing alright.

Johnny Storm

Johnny, while flattered to be your first, would be a little nervous because he has only had sex with experienced women and he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable with his ‘doing without thinking’ habit which hasn’t been an issue before during sex. When he pushes his cock inside of you, it takes all of his will power not to roll his hips and chase his own high. This is all about you and he wants to keep it that way so that you know he cares about you. His hips will slowly thrust inside after a short while of bottoming inside of you, just so you can get quickly used to the friction. If you experience pain, he will kiss and muffle your whimpers, whispering “it’s okay. It’ll feel very good soon, I promise,” many times until your whimpers turn into moans. He’ll offer you as many rounds as you wish to get used to him, only if you want to of course.

Note from author: thank you for the prompt, anon! Yet again a success of making me so horny while writing this - In other words, I enjoyed writing this.

[animeyanderelover]

Writers gift which you all are most likely going to get more often after a week of university since I'm trying to get back into the flow with some short Hc's. Totally not using this for me to write about my favorite characters either.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, possessive behavior, obsession, delusion, clinginess, touchiness, stalking

Darling asks them out

Minato Namikaze

⚡​Breaks out in a flustered but happy grin the moment his darling asks him him out for a date, the tip of his ears most likely start turning pink. He's most likely known about your crush on him for a while which satisfied the more possessive part of him and he's swooning internally about how adorable s/o is right now, all shy and bashful. You'll get Minato's slightly teaseful flirting back so he can savor the image of you all flustered and slightly embarrassed in his memory forever. Kushina ends up swooning even more obviously when she finds out that you finally gathered the courage to ask the Hokage out, she's been the one to encourage you to do so after all. Minato is rather relaxed for what you have planned for the first date, being with you is enough for him so don't stress yourself because of his position. Kushina will be happy to suggest an idea if you should have none so no worries. Prepare for a lot of romantic flirting from his side.

Shisui Uchiha

🍂​A major stalker and dangerous due to his ability to read his darling like a book so the chances that he's known about your liking towards him for a while now as well. Without a doubt it helps his possessive side very much. His heart flutters when you ask him if he has a moment and start displaying signs of nervousness which he picks up quickly. Shisui has a good idea what you want to tell him but contains himself and just waits for you patiently to finish your question. He gifts his darling a small grin the moment they finish their question. His life so far hasn't been one where he had much time to enjoy his youth so he looks immensely forward to the date since it is like a breath of fresh air for him. Assures you that he doesn't expect anything fancy, some nice time with you is already enough to make him happy. Itachi notices that his friend seems to be in a better mood and Shisui lets him in on this little date he has with you which earns him mild teasing from his friend's side.

Ino Yamanaka

🌻​She's been trying to charm you for a while now since she's delusional and believes that you and her are perfect together. Despite her infatuation she isn't dumb and might notice signs that you like her and just maybe someone told her during her workshift in the flower shop that you talk a lot about her. Hearing such things make her quite giddy so she starts getting her hopes up and when you eventually ask her for a date, she can hardly contain her excitement, she ends up throwing herself at you as soon as you're finished. She's very obviously swooning about you and all of her friends get to hear about the exciting news soon after, she doesn't even care if she becomes a bit obnoxious whilst ranting about you. Whilst she is willing to let you put your own ideas for a date into action, Ino can't help but do some things with you she has always wanted to do with you as well. She's exuberantly happy and very disappointed when you have to leave though she makes sure to plan the next date already.

Shikamaru Nara

🦌​Lazy yet too smart for his own good, Shikamaru is honestly very quick to realize that you harbor romantic feelings for him and the mere thought already flusters him. He knows about his whole obsession and tends to fret about it since he's aware of the wrongness yet the knowledge that you like him doesn't help his feelings. He tries to come over as nonchalant as he can yet the pink blush on his face, the fast heartbeat of his and the fact that he averts his gaze somewhere else out of shyness clearly give him away. Clears his throat once to try to collect his cool a bit again before he agrees to your request. Shikamaru tries to avoid teasing yet it is unavoidable as soon as his friends find out. Ino is probably interrogating him and busily playing the role of advisor on how to behave when he's with you. Lets his s/o take control of the date since he has no experience and honestly just wants to make sure that you have a good time. He'd prefer a date where the two of you can relax alone though.

Hinata Hyuga

💘​Hinata nearly faints out of shyness and pure happiness when her darling ends up asking her for a date. She's been hopelessly in love with you for a longer time now but has been way too nervous and shy to approach you so the best she could do so far was watching stalking you from a safe distance. But her heart nearly gives up on her when you ask her out and even after she's regained her senses back, her face turns a dark red and she can't even look you at first into your eyes. She might just collapse again. A few moments to calm her down and a lot of stuttering later, she's at least managed to accept the date but even when she's back home, her heart won't stop pounding and her cheeks are still burning. The girl is extremely nervous, someone from her friends has to help her jittery nerves a bit. Doesn't care what you two do as long as she can be with you and see that you're happy with her too. She'll end up daydreaming about the date ever after with her heart fluttering inside of her chest.

Kiba Inuzuka

🐕​Kiba is possessive and a very jealous Yandere, basically the aggressive guard dog around everyone else and the lovesick and clingy puppy when with you. His reaction is the loudest one though since he ends up cheering excitedly when his darling asks him out for a date. He's very joyful with the big grin on his face and the way his ears turn red and Akamaru, sensing the happiness of his friend, barks happily as well. Literally can't shut up about it to anyone he calls his closer friends and family, he can hardly contain himself to wait until he has his date. Definitely ends up annoying the one or other friend of his with his cooing and swooning but if they complain, he becomes mad. Kiba wouldn't really mind what you two are doing for your first date together but he is a jealous person so the only real wish he has is that you only pay attention to him since he will turn really quick hostile and slightly aggressive if someone steals your attention away from him.

Sai

🖌️​The boy is still in the process of learning how to adjust to the weird feelings his darling causes him to have. Precisely because he doesn't understand and is like a newborn when it comes to anything concerning love Sai is as obsessed as he is and constantly stalks his darling. There is this stretched silence that follows your question as he just stares at you with his black eyes. Your probably end up being nervous before Sai eventually asks you if you like him because he has read that people who like each other go on dates. Honestly, he just accepts without making a great fuss even if he feels something he'd call happiness. Naruto is more shocked than he is when Sai informs him later on that he has a date with his darling. He spends the time he has before the date to read even more books about how a relationship works, lets you most likely choose the plan for the date though. Due to his lack of experience Sai just assumes very quickly that you two are now a couple since you like him and vice versa.

[rekas-writes]

Spooktober Day 2: Sweater Weather

Pair: Omen/FtM! Reader Source: Valorant

Type: Drabble - 1298 words Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort Perspective: Second-Person (You/Your)

Summary: Omen knits you a sweater to help ease your dysphoria

TW: Mentions of Dysphoria, binders and spiralling

A/N: I got an Oodie recently and I’ve been lounging in it all day everyday while I play games. Can’t lie, it’s a very nice dysphoria reliever for me and is part of the inspo for this fic haha. Also, for however far I am behind, I’ll be making up for. Don’t worry!

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Today just wasn’t your day… nor was the day before… or the day before that… And thinking about it, you wondered if any day would ever be your day again. 

Tomorrow didn’t exactly fill you with hope, only the lingering dread of having to face the light of day once more, of having to face your draining thoughts and inner voice once more. If you had to describe Dysphoria? It was like a dirt pit. A dark, deep pit that whenever you fought a little harder to climb out, you only found yourself sliding back down to where you started. Maybe a little further. The edges were all loose dirt and slippery gravel, like some corn silo a poor bird would get suffocated in.

It had been a while since you’d faced a wave of emotional aching as painful and as seemingly never-ending as this. The voices pulling you down so viciously were usually quiet enough to ignore; they were easier to rip apart and disprove when you were so confident and proud... But now? When your confidence was shattered so completely by your incessant thoughts and your self esteem felt so brittle and fragile? Now, you only seem to see and remember everything that felt wrong, even when everyone around you seems to only see the best you. The you that looked and felt every bit the man he is.

Your growing discomfort with yourself only made your bad habits emerge louder, ever more apparent. From staying in your dorm, to wearing your binder for far too long, hyper-focusing and pinching at the parts of you you deemed too “unmasculine”. Every little thing felt off, setting your cursed brain off to spiral ever deeper into its own misery and anxiety. It felt so lonely, so isolating. Like another experience that sets you apart from being a “true man”.

But your looming shadow would never let you forget that you were never really alone in the first place, were you?

Though quiet he may be, he was always there. A solid presence that never wavered, even when your Dysphoria threatened to wash you under. Omen is your beacon of comfort during times like these, a symbol of solidarity as he empathises with your plight. Though your struggles differ, he sees the likeness in the way he questions every so often if he was truly more than the endless shadow and void he’s bound as. Whether or not he was deserving of the friendship and love he is shown by you and his allies. If he was truly deserving of the title of your boyfriend, when there were others more human than he who vied to be by your side in the way he was.

But you always shrugged those thoughts off, always looking at him with that content, little smile of yours as you assured him that none could ever replace him. None could warm your heart more than he, the agent with the namesake of imminent catastrophe. In your eyes, he’s so much more human than so many people you’ve seen. You make him believe that he’s worth it. That he is worthy of love when all he believes he is, is a monster.

So he tries his damn hardest to do the same when you feel down. When you feel like everything is against you. Patient, as he encourages you to heal at your own pace. The time he had off-mission was time he spent mostly by your side, no matter how much you tried to convince him you were fine. He’s always been perceptive, especially of you and lying was never your strong suit. You always felt a little guilty whenever he did this, but he stuck by you with such stubborn concern and affection that managed to stifle those gnawing thoughts.

Rousing you from your thoughts, Omen frowns a little (something you recognise as the little constant jitter and wave his blue scars make whenever he’s displeased) as he calls your name seriously, making you flinch a little like a child receiving a scolding, “How long have you been wearing that for?” He points a claw at you, and you only look away guiltily. He always seemed to know when you had it on and when you’d taken it off. You can feel his frown deepen as he shakes his head at your averted eyes, “You’re going to hurt yourself,” he states so matter-of-factly that you can’t seem to find a valid argument. Shuffling with a garment in his lap, he finally addresses the thing you’d been curious about since he’d laid it down. It seemed to have patches of your favourite colour from what you could see of it bunched up.

“I made this for you,” Omen lifts the now seemingly oversized garment up, “to ease your discomfort,” he speaks softly, his posture turning a little more shy and bashful. His hard work and care could be seen in each individual stitch and the various beautiful blends of simple and complex patterns. It’s like a way cooler, comfier version of your baggy hoodies. The ends of the sleeves cinch to make sure your hands are visible and usable under the puffy sleeves without needing to roll them up. You take it with bright, awe-stricken eyes and a wonder-smitten smile, and Omen can feel his core pulse with affection and pride at making you look so happy.

Taking a deep breath in, you enter your bathroom to change- feeling the tight squeezing around your torso ease at last as you finally take your binder off for the day. You’re quick to slide your night shirt and newly acquired knitted sweater on, if only to distract from the growing distress in the back of your mind. Shuffling out, you have a weary smile as you spin around to show your boyfriend his handiwork, “How do I look, love?”

The way the shadows flow laxly upon his form, the bright blue highlights of his face pulsing slowly and contently, he seems like he’s smiling as he regards you. Slowly, he reaches one bandaged hand out carefully- his version of an invitation for affection. You’re quick to answer as you usher yourself into his arms. He takes a moment to relax, still slightly unused to physical contact, before holding you gently in his arms as he mutters,

��Handsome,”

The word takes you off guard, but in a way that makes your heart leap and mouth twitch upwards in a way it hasn’t for so long. It’s a wonderful welcoming change to the discomfort and self-bitterness. His tone lies bare with truth, and it makes your heart clench. You gladly let yourself be held in the Controller’s delicate embrace, closing your eyes like pounds of weight had been eased off of you for once. Like a few chains of many sliding to the floor, finally snapped and broken. You’re almost tearful as he holds you close, yet it portrays all the unspoken love and tenderness all the same. It’s easy to see how much the usually aloof agent cares for you in the quiet actions he makes for you.

Omen mutters a soft proclamation of love for you in your ear, ensuring only you and you alone can hear; your name follows so confidently that you can’t help the watery hiccup and raw sob that forces its way out of your throat. He carefully runs a hand against your back, a comforting touch as he helps you let go of all the pent up emotion bottled up inside. It's just your name but it’s never felt more sweet nor more fitting than when it fell from Omen’s mouth. It’s a reminder that you truly are the man you yearn to be. Always have, always will be.

No matter how hard the climb to inner peace was, you realise maybe…  Just maybe… As your shadow holds you close, perhaps you didn’t have to climb out of your pit alone.

[daydreambelievcr]

While Valerie entertained his younger cousins on the back lawn, letting them ogle the white coat covered in small beaded strawberries she'd donned for the night and encouraging the kids to run their fingers over the plush, fluffy cuffs at the ends of her sleeves, she glanced over in Seojun's direction, waiting patiently for a chance to congratulate the fighter properly. A distant part of her wondered if she was out of place here among his family, a considerably more restrained bunch when compared to the eccentric and practically cartoonish acrobat. Her own family unit was much smaller, and from the way a couple of different women had gently inquired about where she went to church in town, Val had a feeling that they would be scandalized to know that she hadn't set foot in a church in years (nevermind the fact that both of her brothers didn't even believe in God). Still, she kept her answers vague and polite, not wanting to offend or willing to outright lie to Seojun's family just to win their approval either.

Beaming up at the man of the hour when he finally approached her, she gladly followed his lead onto the porch, grateful for a moment alone. "Well, howdy," the blonde chirped with a wide grin, sparing a brief glance down at their joined hands. Ever since Halloween, the two had been much more casual in their physical affection towards each other. She wondered if he'd noticed it too. "Oh, it's alright. It's your day, I sorta figured I'd be fightin' for your attention. Your family's been real nice, though," she assured him, absently brushing her thumbs over his knuckles.

Letting out an airy laugh, she shook her head at the inquiry. "No, no one's given me any grief or force fed me imported beer, I promise," she assured him, her expression turning more pensive for a moment. "Thank you for inviting me. It's a really big deal, graduatin' college. I can't even imagine the work you put in to accomplish that," she marveled sincerely, the idea still a novel impossibility to the less academically minded creative. "I'm glad I could be here to celebrate with you. I brought ya somethin' for the occasion. Well... a couple of somethin's. I couldn't decide on just one thing, so I figured I wouldn't make myself choose. Heck, consider it your early Christmas present too."

Closed: Seojun x Valerie ( @daydreambelievcr ) Location: Cha Residence — December '23

The house and backyard were bustling with activity, music and chatting as the family had reunited in cold Alaska to celebrate the most recent milestone of their current little gem. Seojun had soon taken off the tie and suit jacket for a more comfortable look as he moved around his family to entertain them with some conversation and the occasional little joke. There was, of course, some level of discontent amongst some people that disapproved of this career decision, but ultimately, the ambience was of celebration.

A watchful eye stayed on the blonde at all times, making sure his family didn't give uncalled opinions and his youngest cousins didn't take much of her time. There were several curious questions about his dynamic with Valerie and with a shy smile he had to confirm there was nothing more than a sweet little friendship between them.

It had been until he was not required for an instant that the fighter scurred away towards the performer and pulled her apart towards the porch while the family stayed distracted with some story his father was telling about his job. "Hey" he greeted her with a little smile. "i'm so sorry. Didn't know this would take so much of my time. How you doin'? Anybody causin' ya trouble yet? I hope my uncle hasn't offered you one of his horrendous imported beers." He chuckled, her hands being held softly by his as a nosy aunt peeked from her spot within the crowd.

[leascorner]

j.b.b. | Marley

Summary: Eventually, Bucky gave his deepest secrets away and you let him know yours. Her name was Marley.

Pairing:  Bucky Barnes x single mom!reader

Warnings: Mention of past and present relationships, parenting, mention of food

Word Count: 3.7k

a/n: This is my first story posted on here. I’ve been writting for +12 years now but for the last couple of years, I couldn't finish a single story. Turns out Bucky Barnes was all I needed to get over my massive writer’s block. Feedback is greatly appreciated. (Also, english is not my native language so if you spot any grammar mistake, please let me know!)

Masterlist

It all began with his friend, Sam.

On a night they were out for drinks, he had made it his mission to find someone for Bucky. Someone or anyone for the matter. He talked to everyone in the bar that night, while Bucky drank his beer, sitting at the counter. When it was clear enough that nobody there that night would keep grumpy Bucky company, Sam turned his attention on the dating app his friend had downloaded on his phone some weeks ago. He probably went through a dozen of profiles, sometimes showing the phone screen to Bucky, to what he would just respond by rolling his eyes and drinking some more beer.

That was until Sam showed him your profile. Bucky stared a second longer to the picture displayed on his phone screen than for the others. He couldn't tell what that was: the smile on your lips, the wrinkles at the side of your eyes or simply your eyes; but he couldn't get his eyes off it. Sam immediately started typing a message for you to what Bucky obviously protested. He did not need company because he was just fine on his own.

Despite his super-soldier abilities, he wasn't quick enough to take the phone from his friend's hands. The smile that appeared on Sam’s face annoyed Bucky even more. "What are you afraid of, though guy?" Sam had asked and Bucky eventually backed off, letting him do whatever he was planning on doing. There was no point in stopping Sam. He knew you wouldn't be interested anyway... To be honest, who would be? Bucky got his phone back along with a smirk from his friend. There was no answer after that, and Sam eventually found another topic to annoy the heck out of Bucky.

When he woke up the next morning, your reply notification was patiently waiting for him. For a second, he thought of deleting it, without having a look first. What did he have to lose? Gathering his courage, he opened it. Your words were as genuine as your smile and it made him grin like an idiot, though he made a mental note to later murder Sam for his poor choice of pick-up line. It took him the whole morning to be able to type an answer and another afternoon to press the ‘send’ button. It was the first text of many. Eventually, a lot of texts turned into calls; that turned into meeting up in your favorite French bakery; that turned into movies and restaurant dates.

    This was nearly one year and a half ago.

Your relationship with Bucky was cautious and steady. He liked how you would give him his space, but still being right there for him. He liked that you let him stare at you in total awe or that you always had small kind thoughts for him like when you made his eggs the way he preferred in the morning and that everything was so simple - obvious even - by your side. Eventually, Bucky gave his deepest secrets away and you let him know yours.

Her name was Marley.

If Bucky was being honest, finding out you had a two and a half years-old daughter was quite the shock. Not that he couldn't have seen that coming; you would always make plans, your handbag was always full of snacks and hand wipes and for some reason, you would never be available between five and eight p.m. That was also what he liked about you. The stability.

The idea of being involved in a relationship with somebody that already had a child did scare him off. If he decided to continue the relationship, it would not only be a matter of breaking your heart in the process – and well, maybe his too - but breaking a child's heart too. And that more than anything, he was refusing to assume the responsibility, but he owed you that much. You knew his deepest secrets and still, you didn't run away from him. Worse, you trusted him to be around your child.

You both had a lot of discussions about him meeting Marley - Bucky even seek advice to Sam. And as for the rest of your relationship, you took it slow. It started with Bucky showing up to your Sunday walk in Central Park, feeding up the ducks and sharing snacks. You also spent some time at the carnival where he would watch you two on the carousel – sometimes joining the ride too - and he would help Marley win at pick a duck or buy her popcorn. Eventually, he would spend more time with the two of you. It started with spending at least one evening per week at your place, making dinner while watching you playing with Marley in the living room. One evening turned into two, three, five evenings per week. He still could step out if he needed. You still could spend time with your daughter where he wasn't there. You still spent time just the two of you, when Marley was asleep at night or he would take you on date nights. The routine you three put in place was nice, but Bucky wasn't planning on taking Marley’s dad place. God, he would never see himself as a dad and Marley already had one - though in Bucky's opinion, he would not be awarded father-of-the-year.

    Today, Bucky was picking Marley up from daycare.

He had done it a million times already, but this time was a little bit different. He was doing it on his own. The babysitter stood you up and you were stuck in an endless one-day meeting. You had called in utter panic, asking him to pick Marley up from daycare and taking care of her until you would be home. He had assured you he would do it and it would be fine. Now that he was standing in front of the building, he was doubting himself. He didn't know if he could do it on his own.

Another shaky sigh and Bucky entered the building. The childcare workers greeted him when he showed up at Marley's room. She was sat at one of these tiny tables making some kind of collage crafts. He planned on waiting for her to finish, just staring like he always did, before announcing himself, but Marley spotted him the second his figure appeared at the door.

"Bucky!" Marley cried out, leaving everything behind and running towards him.

"Hey Mar-Mar," he smiled. She always seemed happy to see him and Bucky wondered if she would eventually grow tired of him being always around.

After they hugged each other, Marley was called to put away her crafts and Bucky encouraged her to go do it. In the meantime, he collected her stuff - her panda backpack, shoes, and coat - so he could get her ready to leave. And he did just that when she got back to him.

"We are taking the train home. I'mna carrying you, is that okay?"

She wrapped her little arms around his neck in response and he lifted her up from the floor. After sharing goodbye to the childcare workers, they were heading home.

    On their way to the station, Marley explained in every detail what she had done at daycare that day; Bucky was listening carefully, sometimes asking questions - Carol, she is the one with the curly hair, right? Was Mark mean to you again? - but mostly he was just nodding along. They made it to the station just in time to take the 5:17 p.m. train. It was rush hour and Bucky mindfully chose to hop on one of the cars at the end of the train - the ones he knew would be the less busy at this time of the day. He had only seven stops, so he didn't sit and stood against one of the train windows. By that time, Marley had finished reporting on her day, and she was just watching around, smiling at anyone she would make eye contact with.

After the second stop, her eyes caught the sight of the dog tag around Bucky's neck. She fiddled it through his T-shirt, probably wondering what that was, before taken it out to have a closer look. In her tiny hands, the metal tag seemed to be huge. She looked up at Bucky, with bright eyes and he swore, he would do anything for these eyes.

"What is that?"

"Uh- " Bucky wasn't sure how to explain it in a way a three-years old would understand. "-Every soldier has one. It uh- has my name on it and some other information."

"Is it if you get lost?" she asked, her little eyebrows raised high on her forehead. She did understand a lot of the world around her for her age. "Mommy put a card with her name and her phone number in my bag."

"Yeah, it's something like that."

Marley smiled at him and returned her attention on the letters’ reliefs on the metal. By the fourth stop, she was resting her head on his shoulder while he was still firmly (but not too much) holding her with his left arm. She kept holding his dog tag in her tiny fist and was patiently waiting.

"She is very sweet," the old lady sat on the seat in front of them said to him before leaving the train.

He nodded shyly and looked back at the little girl in his arms. Marley looked so much like you. Her face had still some baby features, she just turned three after all, but she had the same nose and her eyes had the same color as yours. They were the same piercing eyes that when they’d look at him, he felt like they could read his soul. And she did not just look like you. She had also some of your habits and personality traits. She would always be smiling to people she didn’t know. She was always saying ‘thank you’ or ‘sorry’. She was obsessed with any kind of animal; the Sundays walks would last forever if she could pet all the dogs she encountered.

The rest of the ride was quiet, and Bucky got off the train on the seventh stop as planned. At the station, people turned on them as they passed. Maybe this was an odd sight: a man in combat boots, dark jeans, and a black leather jacket, carrying a small child in his arms. Especially knowing the kid in question was wearing white leggings, a red fluffy coat, and a stuffed panda backpack. Bucky didn't mind and continued his way to your place.

    Marley stayed quiet for the five minutes’ walk to your place, but once Bucky had turned on your street, she wriggled to be freed of his hold. Once her feet touched the ground, she directly ran towards a car parked not far away. She squatted down and started clicking her tongue. A ginger cat immediately came out from underneath the car.

"Careful," Bucky called out. He knew it was not recommended interacting with stray cat as they could be sick with all sorts of disease. And to be fair, it got him a little worried the cat was getting this close to Marley. He could already see her getting bitten by the cat, getting rabies, and losing her arm, or worse: dying.

"That's Gus, he lives at number 7," she said pointing at the building they stopped in front. It had the number written on it.

Gus started rubbing itself against Marley's shins and she gently petted his back. The cat then went to rub on Bucky's combat boots, also greeting him even though they never encountered before. And it continued his way to the building's porch, where it lazily lay down.

"Mommy said we could have a cat when we get a house."

"I've got a cat," Bucky stated and Marley cried out in excitement. She asked him about a hundred questions. What was its name? What was it looking like? Was it friendly? Was it sleeping in his bed with him at night? Bucky never failed to answer one of her questions and they talked about that until they made it in front of your apartment door.

    Marley was already on her way to her room when Bucky turned around after locking the door. She had removed her shoes and coat on her own and left them behind without putting them away like you would always request it.

"Uh-uh, we go wash your hands first, okay?"

After that was done, she ran to her room for good this time. Bucky went back to the living room and focused on what he could do to help you. He knew you would get home exhausted from your day at work and he did not want to have you do all the chores you usually did. It was the least he could do.

Somehow, your place was always tidier than his, and he lived on his own. In the kitchen, he found breakfast dishes in the sink and the dishwasher full of the dishes that had been cleaned the night before. That was where he would get started. He put away the dishes easily; he had been around your kitchen a lot those last months and he knew exactly where everything was. He even knew where you were hiding away the chocolate and candies; somewhere Marley didn't have access to.

"Hey Bucky, can I have snacks?"

A look at the watch sitting on his right wrist, she had still a good hour and a half before dinner and he replied positively. He wiped his hands on the dish towel resting on his shoulder and took one of these bamboo sectioned plates he just washed. He was reaching out to the first cupboards in front of him when it suddenly appeared to him, he had no idea what he could give her.

"What does your mom usually give you?" He asked Marley, turning back to her.

Marley shrugged. "Carrots and hummus." And Bucky swore this kid was eating healthier that he ever had.

He started by the fridge, looking for anything he could give to Marley. Thankfully, she wasn't a picky eater so it would be easy for him. Tonight's dinner was in it, along with some vegetables and fruits. He chose grapes because it was the only food, he could see himself eating at that time of the day.

"Grapes and uh-" he looked at the cupboards right next to the fridge "- crackers?"

Marley nodded. Bucky prepared it all on her plate, making sure there was just enough for her to be full but not too much so she would still eat dinner, and handed it to her. She carried it carefully to the living room, Bucky following behind. She had laid out all her crayons on the coffee table next to her Paw Patrol coloring book. He knew about this cartoon because it was the only one Marley ever wanted to watch, she was literally obsessed with it, and she did make him watch some episodes with her. He knew that, when she was playing alone in her room, she would usually pretend she was saving the world with them.

Bucky sat on the carpet, next to Marley, stealing one grape from her plate. She threw him a death glance but offered him some more if he would help with the coloring. He happily complied.

    Before dinner was normally bath time. Thankfully, you had said over the phone you would deal with that in the morning. For some reason, Marley did not like baths. A little bit of water in her eyes or ears was too much for her to handle and he wasn't sure he could deal with her being so upset on his own.

He still got her changed in her pajamas - she obviously chose the one with the dalmatian puppy from Paw Patrol you had agreed on buying a few weeks ago; washed her face with a cotton pad and some cleansing lotion, brushed her hair and tried the best he could to tie them in a low ponytail. You would normally braid them for the night, but this was not something Bucky mastered at all - he made a mental note to watch some tutorials on YouTube to learn though.

"Will you and mommy get married?" Marley asked out of nowhere while Bucky was carrying her back to the kitchen to have dinner.

"I don't know," he said, confused. "Why do you ask?"

"I prefer you over my real daddy," Marley admitted. And it broke his heart. Bucky knew how her dad forgot about her third birthday and missed most of his custody days lately. He didn't really understand how somebody could have a child and knowingly decide not take care of them anymore.

The child in his arm was so precious. It amazed him every day how much she could comprehend of the world around her. She was smart, creative, kind. She knew what she wanted, would be very stubborn about it and would do anything to get it – you always said you didn’t understand where she got her fierce mind and Bucky laughed every time because he knew exactly from whom she had gotten it: you. You did such a good job raising her on your own. He also knew you would always choose her over him, and he had to admit, it made him fall in love even more with you.

"Even if I'd marry your mom, I still wouldn't be your daddy officially."

"To me, you would," Marley concluded as if it was as simple as that.

Living with you two permanently. Marrying you. Bucky never thought of it. He liked how this relationship was working: the kindness, the trust, the love. He loved the movie dates with you, the Sundays walks, and the evening just the three of you. He loved how simple it all was and how it made him just happy. Happiest he had been in a long time. And he wondered if he wanted more. The way his heart was fluttering in his chest made him realized, he did. He didn't know if he was ready though.

    Back to the kitchen, he put her down on her seat before getting the casserole of potato gratin out of the oven. He put a small portion in her plate, next to some chopped carrots and apple sauce he already prepared. He put it down in front of her and sat next to her.

"Will you eat with mommy?"

"Yeah, is that alright?"

She nodded, rubbing her eyes. They had stayed coloring her books a little too long and it was nearly her bedtime. Smiling softly, he encouraged her to eat. She did while asking some more questions on his cat in between each mouthful. How old is it? Why did you name it Alpine? Has mummy already met it? Do you think she'll like me? Turned out this little one never run out of question.

After dinner, Bucky gave her a small portion of chocolate from the special cupboard and they agreed it would be their little secret. Then, he carried her to the bathroom to brush her tiny teeth. It was started to be late for her and she was clearly fighting against sleep, the lack of it upsetting her.

"I want to see mommy," she cried, lips trembling and eyes full of tears.

"I know Mar-Mar, she'll get there soon," Bucky tried to comfort her. You hadn't text yet, meaning you weren't on your way still. He knew Marley would be asleep before you got home. "We can read a book in your bed while we wait for her, yeah?"

Marley nodded and let Bucky carry her to her bed. She had her head rested on his right shoulder the whole time. She crawled under the covers the moment her body was dropped off on the bed. She let Bucky choose the bedtime story and he chose the one he knew she liked so much.

He laid beside her gently and she immediately reached out closer to him. He wrapped his right arm around her, and her hands somehow found his dog tag again. A small kiss on her forehead and Bucky started reading the book in his left hand. Marley was listening carefully, helping him by turning the page.

At the end of the story, she was fast asleep against him, his dog tag still in her tiny fist. Bucky did not dare moving, afraid he would wake her up if he did. He observed the small child against him and listened to her soft breathes. She looked so peaceful and it made him thought of the way she had welcomed him into her life. Just like you, she had taken him as a whole; with his trauma, his insecurities, his quietness, and his staring habits. And now, she had him wrapped around his little finger. He knew deep in his guts he wouldn't let anything happen to you or your daughter. He realized that now. That made him think some more: maybe he was ready after all. And this time, he would not let happiness slip away from him.

  Bucky stayed like that until twenty minutes later, when you showed up on your daughter’s room doorstep. You looked exhausted yet still radiant. A smile had formed on your lips at the sight in front of you. It made you melt right on the spot.

"Hey," Bucky greeted you softly.

You came closer, walking on your tiptoes, careful of not waking up your daughter. You laid besides them, kissing your daughter little fist, and tucked yet another strand of hair behind her ear. You looked back at Bucky, who was intensely staring at you. His left arm was already wrapped around your shoulders, bringing you close. You kissed his jaw, making him smile gently. "Thank you for taking care of her. Did it go okay?"

"More than okay." He kissed your forehead while you snuggled closer to him. His heart could burst of the feeling of having you two near him forever.

He wouldn't want to be anywhere else.

[ironwoman359]

This is probably not the best place to ask, but you’re also a Christian woman too. I was wondering what you thought about what the Bible says about women and how we must submit to husbands and some other stuff that has me (a potential ace) Christain woman kind of terrified. I would go to my church but social anxiety and my church is pretty conservative. I don’t want to think that we’re just second rate citizens with this. Um…that’s all. You don’t have to answer. Love your Tumblr. It’s one of the main ones I look at. Thanks for countless enjoyment!

— — —

(I’m responding on the submission and not the ask because the ask refused to post properly, I think it was too long for Tumblr’s fancy)

So I know you just asked for my thoughts and not a biblical interpretation lesson, but I didn’t spend 3 months writing an exegesis in college for me to never use those skills again, so buckle up for something of a long answer! (literally, this is almost 3 thousand words, so....sorry about that) *rubs hands together* The thing we need to take into consideration when reading the bible is Interpretation; any truly honest biblical scholar would tell you it is a mistake to take every word in the bible at its literal face value, ESPECIALLY since most of us are reading translations of scripture, not the original ancient hebrew/greek/aramaic/whatever else. So when interpreting scripture, we must consider these things:

Author (Who wrote it?)

Audience (Who was it written for?)

Context (What is written around it?)

So the verses you’re referencing are Ephesians 5:22-23, and in the NIV, they read as follows:

22 Wives, submit yourselves to your own husbands as you do to the Lord. 23 For the husband is the head of the wife as Christ is the head of the church, his body, of which he is the Savior. 24 Now as the church submits to Christ, so also wives should submit to their husbands in everything.

Isolated from author, audience, and context, they sound pretty sexist, don’t they? And male authority figures have used these verses as justification for the oppression of women for centuries, just as white men used the passage only a few verses away, Ephesians 6:5, as justification for the oppression and ownership of black people (Slaves, obey your earthly masters with respect and fear, and with sincerity of heart, just as you would obey Christ). So let’s look at each of the points above in regards to Ephesians 5 and 6. First, who wrote it? Sometimes that can be a tricky question to answer, but in this case, it’s actually very easy (though there is still a bit of fuzziness/debate). Traditionally, Ephesians is one of the Apostle Paul’s letters to the early church. Specifically, to the body of believers in Ephesus, a Greek city that was a part of the Roman Empire at the time. According to two different study bibles I have, the letter of Ephesians was not addressing any particular problem that the church in Ephesus had (as was often the case with Paul’s letters), but was meant as an encouragement of faith and to increase his readers’ understanding of what it meant to be a follower of Christ. So now what about the Context? Why are the verses at the end of chapter 5 and beginning of chapter 6 so damning to our modern sensibilities? To answer that, we must look at the passages both in context to the verses around them, and in historical and cultural context (which is where 1 & 2 come into play again). Going back to the beginning of chapter 4, which is subtitled “Unity in the Body of Christ” (and remember, these subtitles and groupings were come up with LONG after they were written; we grouped sections together in a way we thought was most logical, which honestly for a book as short as Ephesians I would argue is barely even necessary), we can see that the letter from chapter 4 onward is about living a Holy and Godly life. Chapter 4 urges us to be “completely humble and gentle, be patient, bearing with one another in love” and warns us against living “as the Gentiles* do, in the futility of their thinking.” *Gentiles in this case meaning not neccesarily all non-Jews, but non-believers. AKA, we should live like Jesus lived, WWJD and all that jazz. If the Holy Spirit is in our hearts and our relationship with God is at the forefront of our lives, then that should show clearly in our actions. The very first verse of chapter 5 reads “Be imitators of God, therefore, as dearly loved children and live a life of love, just as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us as a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God.” Chapters 5 and 6 especially are meant to act as a sort of guide for how a follower of Christ should act. There’s some stuff about obscenity, greed, sexual impurity, 5:15 sums it up pretty well basically, “Be very careful, then, how you live- not as unwise but as wise,” and then we reach the all important verse. Ephesians 5:21, “Submit to one another out of reverence for Christ.” That’s a full sentence, just that there. Submit to one another. The following three sections are all subsections of this point: one for Wives submitting to Husbands, one for Children submitting to Parents, and one for Slaves submitting to Masters. But when looking at all of these, bad shepherds (ie, racist, sexist assholes) like to ignore that first bit, submit to one another, just as they like to ignore 5:28, which says “husbands ought to love their wives as their own bodies. He who loves his wife loves himself;” or they ignore 6:4 which says “Fathers, do not exasperate your children; instead, bring them up in the training and instruction of the Lord;” and they ignore 6:9, “Masters, treat your slaves in the same way. Do not threaten them, since you know that he who is both their Master and yours is in heaven, and there is no favoritism with him.” I do highly encourage you to read chapters 4, 5, and 6 in full, or at least start at 4:17, which is where Paul starts talking about “Living as Children of Light,” because it makes the intent of these apparently damning verses much more clear. Paul is stating that as Christians, we should treat everyone around us with honor and respect. According to one of my study bibles, the grammar of the original Greek suggests that the “submission” involved in all three sections is intended to be mutual submission, and is to come from a filling of the Holy Spirit. However, to be quite frank, Paul still Lived In A Society. A highly structured, patriarchal society, in which all members of a household (women, children, slaves) were expected to submit to the patriarchal head of that household. Male children until they reached adulthood, Slaves until they were freed (remember that, while by no means a purely morally good thing, the system of Roman Slavery was VASTLY DIFFERENT from the Atlantic Slave Trade that men later used this passage to justify existing), and women, unfortunately, for their whole lives. In another one of his letters, what is now the book of Galatians, Paul says in chapter 3 verse 27-29 that “You are all sons of God through faith in Christ Jesus, for all of you who were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ. There is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus. If you belong to Christ, then you are Abraham’s seed, and heirs according to the promise.” This would have been radical at the time. Paul is promising all people of all genders and classes that, in the eyes of God, they are Equal, One, and all “sons,” meaning that they all have a right to the Inheritance of the Father (remember, at this time and in this culture women did not get any inheritance, and younger sons got significantly less than the firstborn. Paul assures the believers that they ALL are equal receivers of the Promises of God). But this equality that Paul speaks of was, in his eyes, a spiritual equality. He was not particularly concerned with overthrowing the earthly patriarchal society that subjugated women and lower classes, but rather instructed all members of that society who also were Believers to submit equally to one another out of love and respect, for they were all Equal in God’s eyes and would be Equal in heaven. This is why he both tells women to submit to and obey their husbands, but also husbands to love, cherish, and care for their wives. Children, obey your parents, but Fathers, don’t be dicks to your kids. Slaves should obey their masters (slavery was much more like a job that you weren’t allowed to quit until your boss said so) but Masters shouldn’t abuse their slaves. There are Societal Authorities, and Paul is telling his readers “look you can’t just go around not respecting those Authorities, but also hey, if you’re the Authority? That’s not a free pass to be an asshole.” As one of my study bibles puts it, “Paul counseled all believers to submit to one another by choice…this kind of mutual submission preserves order and harmony in the family while it increases love and respect among family members.” Paul is basically saying “it’s better for everyone if we all get along, and remember that Christ had a servant’s heart, and intentionally lowered himself for us, so we should do the same for each other.” And while a patriarchal class system is still super sucky for like 80% of the people involved, at least it’s a whole lot more bearable if everyone involved is being a Nice, Good Member of that Society. You mentioned being worried about being treated like a “second rate citizen.” The fact of the matter is that when this was written, women were second rate citizens; that is the context in which Paul is writing. And while I firmly believe that that was wrong, in every sense of the word, Paul wasn’t especially concerned about challenging that aspect of society. Priority one was “Spread the Gospel” and Priority two was “Don’t Get Killed while Spreading the Gospel.” Speaking of Paul, let’s talk a little more about Saul of Tarsus, shall we? In all literary analysis, it is important to examine the author’s beliefs and what biases may have made their way into the work. And while we believe the bible to be a Holy Book, it can and should be subject to the same rules of literary analysis as non-religious texts. First, you must ask yourself, what do you believe about the bible? There are four general ways of looking at it (which are called Theories of Inspiration).

The bible is the Divine Word of God, dictated word for word across centuries directly to its human authors by God Himself.

The bible is the Divine Word of God, written across centuries by men Inspired by the Holy Spirit. While they are writing in their own words, this Inspiration means that the bible is Wholly Perfect with no errors.

The bible is the Divine Word of God, written across centuries by men Inspired by the Holy Spirit. However, because they are imperfect, fallible men, there is a possibility of errors in the text, both in the account of events that happened and in the teaching therein.

The bible is a collection of accounts written by men, with no Divine Intervention from God. It is not Holy, God’s Word, or Infallible.

I was raised to believe theory 2, but now I personally believe theory 3. And since I’m the author of this analysis, it is through the lens and bias of theory 3 that I now present my next point: Paul was sexist. I don’t think he was maliciously so (see again, Galatians 3, and the statement in Ephesians 5 that men should honor, cherish, and care for their wives), but he was a product of his time who had ingrained ideas about women and their place in society. This does not A) mean he was right about how women should act OR B) mean that we should toss out everything he had to say, about women or otherwise, because he was Problematic. Most biblical authors were, in fact, Problematic. Either by our modern standards, due to the time in which they lived, OR by the standards of their own time, because God liked to use Imperfect People (we’re all imperfect, but He liked particularly imperfect people) in His plans. David was an adulterer and murderer. Paul happily sent dozens of Christians to their deaths. Peter was hotheaded and super prejudiced against Gentiles and Samaritans. And most of them were, in one way or another, sexist, racist, and homophobic. These biases then found their way, intentionally or not, into their writings, and then other racist, sexist, homophobic men used those writings to justify systemic oppression of anyone who was not like them. Oppression that is not Christlike. So where does that leave us, in our 21st century application of scripture to our daily lives? We must examine how it was to be read at the time (which we have done), and then see what we can apply from it to our own lives. For myself in my marriage, I look again to the original grammar of Ephesians 5, that indicates the submission is to be mutual. I “submit” to my husband, and he “submits” to me. In other words, our relationship is built on Trust, Clear Communication, and Respect for one another. Sometimes we have to compromise, and I have to put aside my own desires for his sake, or he must set aside his own desires for my sake. It is a willingness to listen to one another, to approach conflicts with an open mind, to consider each other’s feelings before we speak. It is an equal, mutual submission based on love for each other, which doesn’t contradict what Paul says at all. God created all people to be equal. Humans are stupid sometimes and try to insist that we know better, try to create hierarchies and use the bible to try and justify that, but that doesn’t mean those humans are right. If your church is trying to make you feel less than because of your gender, or if you date somebody who pushes TradWife rhetoric and tries to use Ephesians as their justification, then you Run, and feel justified in doing so. (Especially if they also try to use Paul’s words to tell you why you owe your partner sex; see again, Paul was not only sexist but also lived in a patriarchal time when women were second class citizens that had very specific expectations placed on them AND he wasn’t even in a relationship himself, forgive me if I take his advice on my sex life with a grain of salt. Without doing this whole process again, a good modern reading of “don’t deprive one another” is “don’t use sex as a weapon in your relationship/withhold it for bs reasons when you’re mad at each other, etc. Like all other relationship things, sex (or a lack thereof) with your spouse should be based on mutual trust, communication, and love, not petty arguments or the standards of others.)

Trust me, as an ace woman myself, I totally get the fear. I’ve felt it myself, in the past. But God’s intentions for you are not that you become a doormat or servant to a man. If a romantic relationship (or any other partnership) is part of His plan for you, then the bible clearly states, both in Ephesians and elsewhere, that it should be one built on Love and Trust, not Subjugation and Servitude.

I hope this helped you, and again, sorry it was so long XD. Have an amazing day! <3

[bcdwhcre]

hiiii love!!!!! your levi stories give me life, and are the highlight of my day when you post. i have a pretty “detailed”suggestion. basically, levi’s s/o of a while wants to start doing ~sTuff~, and wants to start to give him head. he is kinda surprised, but happy about it. as his s/o doing their thing, they accidentally go a little too deep, and start choking, and coughing up a LOT. they feel really insecure afterwards, and run away, and feels like they also “looked weird” doing it. levi assures them that it’s ok, and then they give him head again, and he is so proud. sorry if this sounds weird. i love you soooo much, pls and thank you if you see this!!!!!!!! <3

“First Experiences,” Levi x Reader

Summary: being insecure when giving Levi head

Warnings: pls this whole thing would most likely be real smutty, beware

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You and Levi have been together for some time, little less than a year. You’ll admit he still makes you extremely nervous to the point where every decision you make, you get insecure and scared because you didn’t want to lose him or have him leave you.

It was always in the back of your mind and you couldn’t help but think about him actually finding someone better and leaving you behind but he has tried to reassure you plenty of times that you were the one for him.

He had made sure to take things slow with you, wanting to take his time and not wanting to pressure you into anything you didn’t want to do. It had actually taken you some months to get intimate with each other and it’s only happened a handful of times, only because you couldn’t help but feel insecure.

But as time went on, you have tried to suck up your pride and insecurities, swallowing them down your throat and boost some sense of confidence. You wanted to treat Levi and make him feel special, especially when he came back home from a expedition he went on.

You made sure to make his favorite dinner before he arrived, sitting down across from him and let him talk about his trip outside of the walls and you listened, not interrupting him.

After you both finished dinner, you ran him a bath to somewhat ease the lingering tension he had built up in his muscles.

“Come in with me,” He mumbled, making your cheeks heat up as he sat in the bath tub and looked up at you with puppy eyes.

You hesitated but started to slowly take off your clothes, slipping in the tub and instantly his arms were around yours and pulled you close to his body. A hum had escaped his lips while peppering gentle kisses along your shoulder blade and up to your neck.

In that moment an idea had popped into your head, you wanted him completely relaxed and satisfied. You wanted the stress of his work to leave the house you both shared and stay out of it, you hated the amount of times he’s come home to you exshaunted and completely drained, it broke your heart.

And while his lips had worked wonders on your neck, making your teeth sink into your bottom lip. The nerves you felt wanting to tell him about the idea you had but you were absolutely terrified of what his reaction will be.

You finally turned your head to look up at him, his eyes meeting yours and he placed a quick soft kiss to your lips, moving his hand up to grab a hold of your chin.

“I... I want to do something for you.” You managed to stutter out and his eyebrows raised as he grew curious.

“Like what?” His voice was low but gentle, his fingertips brushing along your skin to move up and brush strands of your hair back.

You remained quiet, not knowing how to word it but also feeling all your anxiety weighing down on your throat, making it hard for you to even try to speak up. You were embarrassed at the thought of it but you loved him more than anything and you wanted him to feel good.

His eyes stayed on yours, searching through them like he was trying to read your mind but his predictions were coming up empty, he couldn’t really figure you out and that’s what made him a bit uneasy of what you wanted to do.

“Don’t be shy.” He encouraged you to speak up, making your cheeks turn a light shade of red as you laughed nervously.

“Sorry, uh, I don’t know how to word it.” You started to say and he nodded, letting you collect your thoughts and remained patient with you.

“Um, I know how stressful things have been and I just want to make you feel good.”

“You always make me feel good when I come home.” He mumbled, not really catching on to what you were trying to say and you huffed.

“No, I want to... give... you a blowjob.” You carefully said, making his eyes grow a bit wide as his eyebrows raised again.

“Oh?” He simply said, not expecting that to be what you were trying to say. He was shocked you were confident enough to even say it at all.

“I mean, if you don’t want,”

“I do.” He cut you off, not trying to shut down your offer and plus, thinking about it- it could relieve some stress he had on his shoulders.

As he thought about it more, he’s always liked the image of you on your knees but he was nice enough to never push you or pressure you to do anything with him. He wanted to take his time and make sure you were happy and confident above all.

You simply nodded, laughing to yourself as you leaned over to press a kiss to his lips, moving them in sync for just a moment before pulling away. Levi had stared up at you, full of love and admiration as you got out of the tub and wrapped yourself up in a towel.

As the both of you were in the bedroom you shared, you slipped on one of Levi’s t-shirts and watched him settled on the bed while drying his hair with a towel. The idea you brought up had almost completely slipped out of his head, only because he didn’t expect you to do it right away and he didn’t want to bring it up, nor pressure you. He wanted you to do it on your own time.

But you had told yourself that it wouldn’t be so bad, he’s your boyfriend, it’s normal, it’s going to happen eventually and you wanted him to feel better, to feel good without having to do all the work like he usually did, even though he had told you plenty of times that he didn’t mind, he loved pleasuring you.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, watching his head tilt down as he ruffled his hair with the towel and you bottled up the courage to walk over, moving yourself to straddle his lap which took him off guard a bit. His eyes meeting yours and his hands finding their way to your hips before you smashed yours lips on his.

All the worries you had replaying in your mind, you tried to swipe them away and remain calm and focused on Levi. You didn’t want to ruin this or have your anxiety ruin it, that would just kill you deep down and have you convinced that he’ll leave you for being this problematic.

When his lips moved with yours, it had made you snap back to reality and you gently pushed his chest down so he was laying back on the mattress while keeping your lips on his. He didn’t want to take control from you but he somewhat pushed himself to slip his tongue inside of your mouth, brushing it along yours and it made your stomach swarm with butterflies.

You kept the main objective on the top of your head, this was for him, not for you. After pulling back from his mouth, you peppered soft kisses along the skin on his neck, knowing not to leave any marks or else he’ll complain about it in the morning when he has to go to work. Instead you left the bruises on his chest and collarbone, teasingly biting down on his skin and you could hear his breath hitching in his throat.

One of his hands had moved to settle on the back of your head, tangling his fingers in your wet hair and you had taken in another deep breath, lifting your hips up enough to grab the towel wrapped around his torso and ripped it off of him. All while your soft hands had trailed down his naked body, your eyes connecting with his and you could easily tell just how excited he was even though he tried to keep that plain look on his face.

You sat up on his lap, Levi rising up to press his lips back on yours and you gently cupped his cheeks to move your lips with his. You tried to reassure yourself repeatedly in your head and as you grinded your hips down into his, hearing the soft moan escape his mouth- it somewhat boosted your confidence.

It had made you confident enough to pull back and slip off his lap, settling on your knees on the floor in front of his while he sat at the edge of the bed. Another lump had formed at your throat, you didn’t want to stare but you couldn’t really help it, it was right in front of you.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, Y/N.” He said, his fingertips brushing along your jawline and settling on holding your chin to point your head up towards him.

“I do, just shut up and let me do it.” You teased, making him raise his eyebrows and nod his head.

Finally you had pushed the endless thoughts away, trying to boost yourself up and let yourself know it wouldn’t be so bad. This was for Levi, this was for him.

His eyes had noticed your hesitation or maybe your confusion so he had grabbed your hand and wrapped it around his length firmly, trying to somewhat ease your mind and show you it isn’t as hard as you think it is. He had held your hand, gliding it up and down a few times but when he had hummed in pleasure, it had only encouraged you to hear more.

You moved his hand away, bringing your hand up to your mouth and spit down into it before wrapping it back around his shaft and easily pumping him slowly at first, just to somewhat tease him and see his reactions as his face stirred up in pleasure.

Now, this is the hard part, actually giving the blow job. You were terrified and you really didn’t want to screw this up, the embarrassment would absolutely kill you if something were to happen.

You held in your breath before pushing yourself to move forward between his legs, one of your hands grabbing his thigh for support and finally you had wrapped your lips around just his tip, not wanting to completely push yourself over your limits.

You swirled your tongue around the head, pumping the rest that wasn’t in your mouth and his head had hung down to look at you through his hooded eyes, his hand gripping onto your hair and a breath had erupted from his throat.

It wasn’t long till you started to get more confident, wanting to hear more of his pretty moans and tried to take more of him inside of his mouth and out of habit, he had somewhat moved his hips up to meet your mouth which only shocked you but also instantly made you gag around him.

It took you by surprise, pulling him out of your mouth to catch your breath and to hold yourself back from coughing uncontrollably but quite a few slipped out and it made you overthink the situation all at once. Your eyes had met up with his, tears building up from gagging and also mixed in with embarrassment that lingered there.

“I’m sorry, Lev,” You started to say, taking a deep breath but it was hard to remain calm and not completely freak yourself out.

“Why are you apologizing?”

He looked at you worried but you had gotten on your feet and quickly walked outside of the bedroom, the overwhelming anxiety had weighed down on your shoulders again as you sat on the couch and tried to collect your thoughts. You couldn’t help but feel insecure again, did you do it wrong? You felt like you did and you felt like you looked completely ugly while doing so.

He was quick to get off the bed to put on a pair of boxers and follow after you. He knew how you get when your mind is set on something and how upset you get when you overthink things. His feet stepped on the wooden floors down the hall of your shared little house. The living room was dark, the small lit candle helped him see that you were on the couch.

When he sat down, he got a better look of your face and seen a few tears streaming down your cheeks. That had made him a bit worried as he grabbed a hold of your chin and made you meet his gaze.

“Hey hey, what’s the matter? Why are you crying?”

“Just don’t feel like I’m doing this right, I’m sorry, I wanted this to be about you and,” Levi shushed you, shaking his head repeatedly.

“Enough of that, you did perfectly fine. The choking? Completely normal and it made you look hot.” You sniffled as he tried to assure you that everything was done right.

You still had thoughts in the back of your head, the nerves telling you otherwise but the genuine look on his face had made you think a little differently as his thumbs swiped your tears away.

“I know this was your first time but, you did everything right. I promise, I love you, okay? Let’s just go to bed.” He gave you a smile smile, grabbing a hold of your hand and gently tugged you to get up.

The thoughts still lingered there but guilt was clouding your judgment and it made you feel bad for failing to make Levi feel good, to ease the tension off his shoulders and it made you feel bad. You followed him back to the bedroom, looking at his bare back in the dark hallway and you huffed out a breath.

The both of you finally settled in bed, his arms were wrapped around your small frame and as you both sat there in silence, you had wanted to try again. The embarrassment you felt, you wanted it gone and you convinced yourself that you shouldn’t feel humiliated with Levi. Your eyes moved up to look at him, his eyes closed and his fingertips tracing shape on your back.

“I want to try again.” You mumbled, watching his eyes open and meet yours, a look of a surprise on his face.

“Don’t feel pressured to do anything you don’t want to.”

“I don’t feel pressured, I just want to please you, Lev.”

“You don’t have to do much to please me.” He smirked at you, making you roll your eyes and a soft laugh left his lips.

“Shut up.” You scoffed, rolling over to straddle his waist and leaned down to hug onto his body, the warmth of his skin made you hum softly.

Your lips curled up in a smile, moving to plant kisses on his neck and this time you had decided to leave a bruise just below his jawline, making him grunt in response. You were starting to get a bit more cocky now, knowing the bruise will piss him off in the morning but you didn’t care all that much.

The sudden confidence made you push yourself further before it disappears again and you didn’t want that to happen so you were quick to reach your hand to slide down his body and went to palm him through the thin material of his boxers, teasing him as more of his groans filled the air.

You glanced up at his face, watching his head pressed back against the pillow while stands of his messy hair laid out on his scrunched up forehead, it made your heart flutter knowing you were doing this to him.

You started to move down, settling between his legs again and pulled his boxers down, watching his length spring up and the nerves hit you, making you worry but you didn’t want to show any hint of doubt or weakness to Levi, you wanted to keep the streak of him feeling pleasured.

So, you pushed yourself to grab onto his shaft again, not wasting anymore time to wrap your mouth around his head and instantly his fingers had tangled in your hair, feeling your warm tongue swirl around his tip which sent him over the edge.

“That’s my girl.”

The sudden praise that left his lips made your knees weak, your eyes moving up to connect with his and the confident smirk on his face had only encouraged you to keep going, taking more of him inside of your mouth.

It wasn’t long till you were gagging around him again, making your eyes water and he gently held your head and guided you to bob your head at a reasonable pace at first.

“Fuck, you look so beautiful with your mouth wrapped around me like that.” He couldn’t hold back the compliments he had in his head, his eyes trained on you and admiring just how perfect you were to him.

The butterflies flying around in your stomach had made you want to pull back and take him completely but this was for him only, you couldn’t care less about your own pleasure- this was pleasing enough to you.

You continued to bob your head, using your small hand to pump the rest of his length that couldn’t fit inside your mouth and he had gently bucked his hips up, wanting to thrust into your throat but he let you have the control- just this time.

“Just like that, right there.” His moans were music to your ears, the way he threw his head back against the pillows and the way his fingers were tugging at your hair- you were in awe at the sight.

Your movements had gotten more confident and fast, watching the pleasure on his face as he tried to hold himself back to not instantly cum down your throat just by the sight of you. He couldn’t handle how perfect you looked, how you were all his, it was mind blowing to him.

And now your lips and your warm mouth working wonders on him had made him feel like he was dreaming. The pleasure building inside the pit of his stomach as he turned his head to look at you, he wanted to watch everything.

You could tell he was somewhat close because he was starting to release more moans than before and if only made you to try to go faster, taking all of him down your throat and gagging around him.

He could feel everything and the way your throat perfectly hugged around his length, it made him cum right down your throat and your name slipped passed his lips in a long moan, watching you collect all of his juices and swallow it up.

“You’re perfect.” He said, breathless and that made your cheeks heat up as you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand.

Before you could open your mouth to say anything, his lips crashed on yours. The both of you sat there kissing, he could taste himself on your tongue but he didn’t care, he was in complete awe with you. It only turned him on even more.

“We’re not finished yet.” He mumbled against your mouth and suddenly he had you pinned down on the mattress, continuing to kiss you.

“I’m going to absolutely destroy you tonight.”

.

.

.

This is super long, if there’s mistakes, pls I’m sorry. I’ve been writing this shit for threeeee days

• Main Masterlist •

• AOT Masterlist •

[yesimwriting]

Hi! I have been having an off day I’m kinda exhausted and anxious slightly snappy haha. I was wondering how would the darkling react to an anxious reader that he cares about. 😊

a/n ive been a little MIA but im working i promise!! i felt really apathetic about writing for awhile bc of some personal stuff but ive been trying to get back into it bc im genuinely happier when i write :)

--

- ok so i think how he reacts to an anxious person that he cares about depends on where you're at in the relationship,, which might be kinda a 'duh' but it needs to be said for how im setting this up lol

- bc if he's kinda just starting to figure out his feelings, i think he'd be so surprised by how much he cares that he has to hold back his immediate reactions, bc he may have his faults but he's def protective once he realizes something is affecting/hurting the person he sees as the sun

- that protectiveness stems from wanting to be what makes you happy, he wants to feel like he's your shelter so that he feels like he's good enough for you. He wants you to be happy so he can feel your warmth but he also really wants the redemptive feeling that comes from knowing that he's your protector in a way.

- he wants to protect and make you happy so bad, sometimes you need to be like 'umm...i really appreciate that you want to torture the person that bumped into me a little too hard on a bad day,, but maybe let's not??' especially if you are still in that phase where he kinda scares/intimidates you bc you know him more as the General

- not only are his more over the top reactions a little scary bc you don't want to offend him by not wanting to talk about it to avoid blowing the situation up,, they're also confusing

- bc you had no idea he cared if you lived or died let alone cared if you were nervous or not?? but sometimes it makes you feel really comforted, bc if someone as hardened as the darkling can care that much about how youre feeling than you can't be as awful as you're feeling

- and it's also comforting bc he's clearly strong and powerful and when he puts a hand on your shoulder and stares at you like you're the only tangible thing in the world and telling you that he's not going to let anything happen to you,, the rational part of your anxiety is appeased to say the least.

- alright but that's at like the first stage of the relationship for him, bc i feel like he def has like twenty stages he goes through before finally being in a committed relationship bc even though he wants an attachment and love so badly bc he hates his eternal loneliness, he has a lot of layers to work through before he feels secure enough in you as a person to risk vulnerability

- so if he's at the point where he's accepted what he feels for you,, but has yet to really act on it, this is where he starts to give himself away a little

- like you'll mention being stressed about training in the Little Palace, or not getting along with someone and he immediately jumps to encouraging you. It's kinda funny bc at first he seems like he's just trying to be a supportive pal bc at this point ur sorta friendly (at least more friendly than anyone else is with the darkling) but then he kinda losses himself in talking about how amazing you are.

- and if youre feeling anxiety/bad bc of someone in particular, you better not mention their name unless you're 100 percent sure you're furious at them.

- sometimes it causes some strain bc you don't necessarily want him to get involved, and he's not above lowkey guilting you into telling him the full story, but it's not really intentional. He just starts talking about how much trust he puts in you and you just let the little things go after making him promise to leave things alone.

- if your anxiety is general,, or just bc of a. bunch of little things and he's at a point in which he's accepted how much he cares about you but has not told you yet,, he'll try to hide how soft he feels, but sometimes he slips up.

- honestly, i wouldn't be surprised if a really big relationship milestone came from that.

- like you crying one night and the darkling finding you, and then him taking you back to your room and promising to stay so that you don't have to feel alone and then the next morning you wake up and he's holding you

- at first ur like ?? but he acts so normal you're like maybe that can be platonic? but then it starts happening more and more and neither of you mention it and then when you two finally do get together youre like 'ohh? im stupid'

- and if your anxiety comes from your worry about him?? wow--he'll have to stop himself from kissing you

- this is a man who is so used to being hated/feared that the concept of someone worrying about him so much they physically don't feel well?? that would hit him STRAIGHT in the chest, and he'd be so quick to pull you to him, and then you'd be like--are you ok??

- wouldn't be surprised if that's how you found out he had feelings for you,, like he'd say something like "i didnt know the brightest star in the sky could want to protect the darkness instead of banish it. You're the brightest light I've ever known, it was more than enough for me that you weren't repulsed by my darkness...and now..."

- anyways,, if you were already established together and you were anxious, he would have no need to hold back

- if he notices your hesitant to let him 'help' he might do a thing or two to reduce sources of your stress without telling you...which sometimes leads to you getting a little mad, but depending on how extreme his actions were, he normally smoothes it over quickly

- i mean,, it's just how he shows that he cares, he's never had someone that could snap their fingers and get rid of his adversaries or reschedule a thing or two to make his life easier

- he sees no harm in it,, and even though sometimes other people may give you a bit of a hard time bc of his evident favoritism,, you know it just means he cares

- if he goes really far, you're more willing to be mad at him, but honestly when youre upset all you want is to be near him bc there's nothing more comforting,, so you agree to hold off on arguing lol

- i mean there are always lines that get crossed, so there are times he cant charm himself out of your anger, but the longer youre together the more he tries to hold off on doing things that make you really angry,, unless he feels like the person really hurt you, then nothing can stop his anger

- if youre actually together he's much more quick to comfort you physically if youre feeling really anxious,, he'll kiss you everywhere until he's all you can think about, which works for when your anxious over small things

- if your problem is larger, he cant exactly kiss it away though i cant say that doesnt help but it's still comforting and relaxing bc duh,, so i feel like he's really touchy if youre upset

- kissing sometimes leads to other stuff,, but that should be its own fic/headcanon bc i have a secret head cannon that feeling needed or like the only one his partner has is a turn on for him bc it returns some of the power he feels like he gives up by letting his partner care about him

- might have to write that fic now that im thinking about it....

- if youre so anxious you dont want to be touched, it'll be a little harder for him, but if he reaches for you and you back away he'll try to talk you down and remind you that he's not going to let anything happen and as long as he's breathing he'll make sure you're okay

- if youre officially together and youre anxious about something small, he's actually surprisingly nice to talk to,, before you were close you felt like you were bothering him with small, insignificant things,, but once you know that he cares about you he's a patient listener bc he likes being really present with you when he can bc he's busy so often

- sometimes if youre worried or upset he jumps to anger towards the object of your distress before comfort, but once youre at the dating part, you know that that's just how he is, and anger is how he shows love in a way?? lol, so you just have to clearly tell him that you'd rather him stay with you then rush out and like smite someone, he'll stop and comfort you

- sometimes how much he cares makes him angry at himself bc he begins to question if he'd pick you/your happiness over his goal, if he can't convince himself that you'd never get in the way of that, he gets a little cold until he feels assured in his loyalties or at least assured in the fact that your happiness would never conflict with his goals

- that can happen at any point in your relationship,, i feel like it'd happen more when he's unsure about his feelings bc seeing how much he cares about someone that's nothing to him makes him want to banish his nerves

- overall though,, once he cares about you, whether he's fully accepted it or not, he'd burn the world down to make you feel okay again,, or stay in bed with you for awhile, or both--whatever you want, really

[59writes]

SEVENTEEN- REACTION: THEIR S/O GETS INJURED (PT. 1)

written for the lovely @honeyylin

again, thank u for being my first request, I will love u eternally (:

I might do the other version still, idk yet!!! but I hope this is satisfactory!!!

(also shout out to my phone for autocorrecting “finally” to “fistula” I hate it here lol)

tw: food, injury

SEUNGCHEOL

• Homeboy would do his damn best to stay focused on whatever task at hand!!!

• he knows you’re a responsible person and you reassured him on the phone that you’re completely fine, but he’s still got the jitters

• but after he zones out for the third time in a row, Jihoon kicks him out of the studio and tells him to go home

• “you’ll do better there, hyung.”

• “But… the songs-“

• “you’re not exactly contributing right now. go home.”

• and so he does, fidgeting the whole way back

• his anxiety is truly at a peak as he reaches the apartment door, practically chewing through his lip as he fumbles with the keys

• he calls your name the second the door swings open

• “y/n?”

• your head pops up from the couch, tired but grinning wildly. “Cheol!”

• the next thing you know he’s wrapping you in a hug, tension finally leaving him

• “I thought you were at the studio.” You frown when he finally moves away.

• “Jihoon made me leave.” He pouts, sitting down on the floor, eyes even with your leg, which is propped up on a chair. “I was too… out of it?”

• “Aw. I’m really okay, Cheol.” You assure again, reaching down to grab his hand, giving it a squeeze.

• “I know, I know. Just… worried.”

• It’s very clear he’s trying not to make a fuss and ask a million questions about the state of your existence, so you pat the couch next to you.

• “C’mon, we’ve got the day off now. Do you wanna finish the show?”

• His face reluctantly breaks into a grin, hopping up to join you on the couch

• and both of you forget about the pains for a little while as you lose yourself in the screen

• it’s peaceful and warm, and finally, you both get a chance to slow down

• maybe you should get injured more often (/j)

JEONGHAN

• he trusts that you’re completely fine, but he does not trust that you won’t somehow hurt yourself again

• he will babyproof the house for the next few days

• “nope, you’re not allowed to chop vegetables. give me the celery.”

• “hey! let me get that, idiot, you’re hurt.”

• “I don’t care. If you want the cat then text me and I’ll get her for you.”

• just generally being a nuisance, you know how it is

• but still, in his babyproofing he does make sure you take your pain meds on time, setting a little alarm on his phone so he can wake you up with a glass of water and your pills

• he also doordashes you your favorite food without announcing like he just says “Steve is on his way with food” and you have to just ponder who Steve is until some guy knocks on your door

• “he paid me extra to say that you’re the love of his life, so…”

• “let’s not and say we did.”

• he always makes sure to order something sweet too (:

• but yeah he’s doing work around the house and forcing you to stay in bed

• tbh it’s like having a very bossy butler lol

• but hey, at least he’s actually doing his own laundry for once!

JOSHUA

• oh my god he drops everything when he gets your text

• it’s literally just “hey josh can I get some help? I hurt myself moving some furniture” and this man goes feral

• you know how someone is so anxious that their brain shuts off and they’re scarily calm??? Joshua.

• he’s at your house in like, five minutes

• and tbh you just wanted him to finish moving the bookshelf so you didn’t have to

• but now he’s gently scolding you while wiping dirt and blood from your leg

• it’s not even that big of a cut but he’s treating it like open heart surgery

• like his hands are so gentle…

• of course he moves the bookshelf after a little more scolding before like,,, making soup like this man would definitely make soup

• like it’s just an annoying cut that’s gonna leave a bruise and this man is making some chicken noodle in the next room over like you’re dying of pneumonia

• it’s some good ass soup tho (:

JUN

• he would not know what to do tbh but he would be excellent company while you waited to heal

• he’d definitely be very panicky but would hide it as best he could!! cuz you’re the top priority!!!

• he’d lurk and when you get up he’d be like “do you need anything? aspirin? food?” and you’re just like “Jun I’m good I just need to go to the bathroom”

• he definitely knows exactly what you like, and does his best to do things like keep your favorite show on, or make you tea.

• (even when you assure him that you’re fine)

• his help is very random and antsy but still excellent lol

• and the fact that he’s constantly here to help really proves how much he cares about you and your health (:

HOSHI

• oh god, this man

• he’d be all over the place

• overreacting and then scolding and then just zoning out and then he falls asleep smh.

• this man would get out a chainsaw and ask which door you stubbed your toe on so he can destroy it lol

• but alas, no chainsaw is around (thank goodness)

• and so Soonyoung just gets to blame everything else while you’re replacing bandages or whatever

• like, he’s going on about how “just because they have safety stickers on ladders doesn’t mean they’re safe!!” and you’ll hold out your hand for gauze and he’d instinctively just grab it and put it in your hand even though he’s on a bit of a rampage

• he also most definitely is the kind to get a stuffed animal for when you’re hurt lol like every time you get sick or injured badly he gets you a bear that says “get well soon” on its stomach or on the heart it holds in its hands and eventually you just have a pile of creatures encouraging you to be healthy

WONWOO

• this man is just. excellent

• he’s caring without being demeaning, and is just so so so helpful

• he comes home and sees your arm bandaged up and just asks what happened

• and you tell him the story and he tries to hide his smile when he hears about your dumb mistake

• but still he’s patient and willing to help!!

• it’s like he could read your mind on what you needed and would just materialize behind you with a drink or an aspirin or something

• and he’d stay in the room with you whenever he could, reading or texting silently

• it was nice having such a caring presence next to you, even if he didn’t chat much

• I mean, the quiet helped you nap more easily too

• and somehow whenever you woke up, he was still there, keeping an eye on you

• if he had to leave for whatever reason he’d gently wake you up to let you know he was headed out and to call him if you need anything

• he makes the healing process peaceful (:

WOOZI

• when he hears the news he’s just. suddenly very very quiet

• like this man is out of it.

• he brushes off the others when they ask what happened, and makes it through the day fairly uneventfully

• when he gets home you almost don’t hear him, only noticing when he shuts the door

• “Jihoon?”

• He beelines straight to you before wrapping you in a huge hug. big tight hug.

• definitely swaying back and forth a little <3

• but you’re just like “woah ok bud what’s up with you”

• and one look at his face says everything

• it’s just been so much: the stress of a comeback, dealing with the managers and the other boys, and then his s/o gets hurt on top of that?

• maybe he needs a break too

• and so you both take one

• I hope you like sleeping lol

• basically you guys take the next few days to recover, just ordering food up and watching shows in silence before falling asleep together on the couch or even the floor once (hey the rug is soft!!!)

• and one day you wake up to find your injury no longer aching

• and the bed is empty next to you

• so you get up and peer down the hallway

• and Jihoon is in the kitchen, playing soft classical music while cutting vegetables

• he notices as you approach, silently offering you a carrot stick

• “I see you’re feeling better too?”

• he nods.

• you both spend the rest of the morning waking up again, cleaning the house and making food, Jihoon’s energy and personality slowly coming back too

• maybe your break wasn’t as much of him taking care of you, but you taking care of each other

• almost as if you’re tied together somehow, your ups and downs mutual

• either way, after that you’re both a lot more aware of the balance and way of recovery you two have

• and you can predict things in advance for next time!

[startanewdream]

Captain Potter

Summary: Lily Evans has a secret that the army cannot know and it doesn't help that her captain is trying to be her friend.

Note: So I was watching Mulan and it's Shirtless JP May and this got me into googling shirtless army man, so please enjoy this piece of very much self-indulgence set in another AU. Also, I have no knowledge of military ranks, so bear with me.

Read on AO3 or below:

‘Evans’, the captain calls, and Lily turns to him, slightly afraid as she always feels when she hears her name. Maybe this is the day her secret will be found, this is the day she will be expelled and will fall in disgrace —

But Captain Potter has one of his carefree trademark grins, none at all looking as if he is about to arrest her. He looks at ease, leaning against one of the training posts, arms crossed lazily, watching her with interest shining in his hazel eyes as if she is a puzzle he will understand someday.

Lily truly wishes he won't, so she avoids looking at him directly in the eyes.

‘Captain’, she answers at least, saluting. That seems to amuse him.

‘I have a name, you know’.

‘Hum’, she stops, unsure. Her interactions with the captain have been restricted — well, her interactions with everyone have been limited —, but she has watched him from afar.

He is young and yet he never tries to act bossy with all the other soldiers, never tries to impose himself. He may have a more affinity with three of the soldiers (his friends for a long time, as she gathered), but he tries to treat everyone fairly, encouraging and teaching all soldiers equally, from the weakest of them to the strongest, and it’s not hard for her to see why everyone is willing to follow him into battle. The only one that he hadn’t been able to reach some sort of relationship was with her.

Something that had fit Lily’s plans and worries very well.

‘Captain Potter?’, she tries.

‘I am someone besides a rank’, he suggests.

‘Mr. Potter’.

‘That would be my father. I am James ’, he says at least, as if she is unfamiliar with the name of the youngest captain of the army.

‘I know , but — it would not be proper —’

‘Liam’, he stops her and, just as anytime someone uses that name, Lily wants to look around searching for that person until she remembers her situation. ‘Can I call you Liam?’

‘I’d rather Evans’, she answers, grimacing, and when he looks dismayed, she adds quickly: ‘It’s how everyone calls me. Not… it’s more personal, really’.

‘Fine, Evans’. He grins again. It’s a beautiful smile, so open and inviting, that again Lily has no difficulty understanding the success he makes with all the other soldiers, why their unity is unanimous in praising him. There is something on him that draws people to him — her included. ‘Well, call me James. I can order you to if it will make it more proper’.

Lily lets out a laugh before she stops herself, biting her lips, worried. She shouldn’t laugh; though she can disguise her voice mildly well, her laugh is too thin, too sparkling. It’s not a man’s grave laugh.

Fortunately, the captain doesn’t seem to find anything amiss. He looks just… glad with her reaction.

‘So you are capable of laughing’, he notes teasingly. ‘I had my doubts, you know’.

‘There has never been an occasion, Cap — James ’.

He opens his mouth in an offended expression; it’s so dramatic that, again, she wants to laugh. ‘I beg your pardon? Yesterday, when someone — a very clever someone, I might add — pretended to be shot by an arrow? That was an occasion!’

‘Wasn’t that you?’, she asks, raising her eyebrows. It had been a long tense one minute in which one of the other soldiers, Sirius, had been sure he had shot by mistake the captain and his best friend before James had revealed himself alive, laughing hysterically and showing the fake arrow attached to his badge.

Sirius had punched him, all rank forgotten, but then he was laughing too and everyone thought it was hilarious.

‘It was fun ’.

‘It was terrifying’.

‘Oh, so you were terrified I’d died?’, he jokes, his grin now very smug. ‘And I thought you didn’t like me’.

Lily blushes, lowering her head and hoping he hadn’t noticed it. Truth was she had misjudged him on the first day, annoyed by the way he acted with that captain badge pinned on his chest. He came from a long family of militars, after all, and he was very young, no matter what his father would praise about his grades in military school, so she had truly believed he didn’t deserve to be a captain, that he had only got there for his family name.

In the last few weeks, though, she was forced to admit he was a good captain. He had the vision for it, good ideas, an efficient way of training everyone and, of course, he was a leader.

‘I have nothing against you, sir — James’.

‘I’m glad to know’, he says, sounding earnest. ‘I am worried about you, you know’.

‘Have I done something wrong?’, she asks, surprised, fear involving her again. Lily had taken care of doing all exercises, overworking herself, all to prove that that stupid rule that forbid women in the army did not make any sense. They needed everyone in the fight against Voldemort, after all, and she would not wait patiently, especially when people like her were one of his targets.

‘No, no, you’ve been perfect, really, no one dedicates as much as you’, he assures her. ‘But you don’t socialize. You stay quiet during dinner. You don’t participate in any of the games', he pauses, before adding again dramatically: 'You don’t laugh at my pranks!’

All of it is true. Lily has purposefully gotten away from everyone, afraid they would notice something different about her, though that quiet soldier, Remus, had tried to talk to her. She just feels she can't risk.

‘I do not think it’s time for pranks, James’, she answers, deciding the last point was probably the easiest.

He shakes his head. ‘We are at war, Evans. If we don’t laugh now, we may not laugh after’.

She supposes he is right. And even though he enjoys more pranks than she thinks it’s reasonable, she knows he worries too. More than once, when she is on guard duty, she has noticed the light of his tent is on very late in the night. James may look carefree with everyone else, but he has concerns about the war — and what lies in his shoulder.

‘Your work has been impeccable’, he adds quietly. ‘I just want you to get to know more of your colleagues and for them to know more about you’. Lily presses her lips, hoping her worry doesn’t show on her face. That was all she was trying to avoid. ‘You will need to count on them in the battlefield and they will need to know you have their backs too. And the only way to do that is if we trust each other. Can we do that?’

James is waiting for her answer, his eyes boring into hers firmly, and Lily can’t turn away now. In the light of the morning, with the sun shining on his face, his hazel eyes seem to glint in gold, the pupil barely visible. He has wrinkles on the side of his eyes, and she suddenly wishes they weren’t meeting in the army while she is pretending to be an introverted thin young man.

He seems the kind of guy she would like to meet in college, or to grow up together with, or even in a dancing club with her friends; they would talk and she could be then fully herself, could share with him her witty side and even help him in a prank or two. In that other life she would appreciate how nice and beautiful he is, with that black hair that’s always messy no matter how much he tries to comb, and those hazel eyes that were made for laughing, not to be worried for the war.

But that’s not her life and she is sure that if he ever finds out about her, he will hate her. Somehow, with how much she has learned to admire him in the last weeks, she fears his rejection more than she fears being expelled from the army.

Lily knows she would trust James Potter with her life, knows she would do her duty and die for him if it was needed, and yet she also knows she can't ever tell him  her secret.

So she does what she has been doing best ever since she joined the army.

‘We can trust each other’, she lies.

He beams. ‘Great, Evans! And I thought we could start sharing your mourning runs’. He raises one eyebrow when she looks surprised. ‘I’ve noticed you awake at dawn to run’.

‘I like to train’, she admits. ‘I am… thinner than the others, so I am trying to get fitter’.

‘You look a lot better’, he compliments, touching her arm, where her biceps have been evolving nicely. It’s a pat, a soft brush, and yet it sends shivers down Lily’s spine; his hand is warm . ‘Mind if I join you?’

She hesitates just a little. ‘I will stay quiet’, she warns him. ‘I like to think while I run’.

‘Works for me. And if you want to share a thought or another, well, I’m here, Evans’.

He winks at her, again so friendly that she turns her eyes away, wishing she could tell him the truth. But she can’t, so she presses her lips, ties the ribbon around her hair so the bun stays in place, and kneels to make sure her shoes are tied. Then she raises and her heart stops for a full second.

James has taken out his shirt. She knows he is fit — there is no way he can’t be with all the years of training he had — and she has seen before shirtless, but only when she was far away in the line, hoping to get unnoticed as she trained the movements.

Now, it’s only him, his tanned skin glistening under the morning sun, a god coming out of her dreams. She is staring and she knows it, but there is no way she can avoid it; weeks at the army have made her lost a lot of discomfourt around men's body, but this... This doesn't seem fair.

She watches the muscles in his arms, his biceps far more evident than hers will ever be, and it suddenly occurs to Lily that she would like very much to feel them around her, involving her, holding her. There would be only benefits in hugging him, she realizes, as her eyes move to his torso, enjoying the firmness of his chest and the muscles in his abdomen, a six pack that seems drawn perfectly. In his arms, she would glide her hand through his chest, would place a kiss over his heart and then she would raise her head and they would be so close —

And then James stretches his arms, raising them above his head, and she notices the hair on his torso, a few patches near his chest that shine with a few drops of sweat she wouldn’t mind drying, and then the darked patch over his abdomen, in a path that goes on vanishing inside…

When she finds herself staring at his pants, Lily decides she has crossed more limits that it's reasonable.

She turns, all her concentration in avoiding glancing at him again, though she feels it's fruitless. The sight of him seems to be recorded in her mind. He will appear on her dream, she is sure of it.

‘Everything all right, Evans?’, he asks, right behind her, and she jumps. 'You look red'.

Lily knows it; her face is hot, burning even before she has started to run, and she won’t fool herself pretending she doesn’t know the reason.

‘I'm fine, let’s go’, she answers quickly, heart racing in her chest. This was a horrible idea; mourning runs with her very gorgeous hot captain will do no good for her keeping her secret.

She sprints without warning, but he catches up with her easily. She keeps her eyes ahead. Don't look, don't stare, don't ogle.

‘There is something special about you, Evans’, he declares, the run not seeming to disturb his breathing. ‘I will find out one day’.

[voiceless-terror]

Jon plays the piano. That’s it, that’s the fic.

At first, he thinks it’s the radio. It’s not uncommon for these stores to play classical music, trying to add an air of sophistication in what’s otherwise a dark room of dusty knicknacks. But when he walks towards the noise, he instead finds Jon sitting at the bench of an old wooden upright, his posture straighter than Tim’s ever seen it, hands moving slowly but deftly across the keys as he leans into each note.

It’s mesmerizing.

Jon must hear his footsteps as he doesn’t startle when Tim sits beside him. “You never told me you could play,” Tim says, too enthralled to be truly annoyed by it. Jon gives him a self-deprecating smile, though his eyes don’t leave the keys.

“I can’t, not anymore,” he responds in complete defiance of his actions. Tim’s always loved Jon’s hands, delicate and slender and naturally elegant in all of their movements; even the most awkward of gestures made with a sort of grace. He shouldn’t be surprised that he plays so wonderfully. But Jon’s always been protective of his interests, careful not to volunteer too much information lest he be laughed at or scorned. Sometimes, when it’s only the two of them, and occasionally Sasha, he’ll let his guard down and his enthusiasm for even the most mundane of subjects is surprisingly contagious.

“Well, seeing as how I can only do Hot Cross Buns, I think you can, actually.”

“Middle C is flat,” Jon continues as if Tim hadn’t spoken, his brow furrowing in annoyance. He taps at the key a few times, but Tim’s never had a good ear for that sort of thing, so he’ll have to take Jon’s word for it. “They should really keep this in better condition, it’s a shame.” He stops his tapping but his hands still flutter over the keys as if they itch to play more. Tim would gladly sit here all day and listen.

“What was that?” He nudges Jon’s shoulder, pleased when Jon leans further into his side. 

“Satie. From his Trois Gymnopedies.” 

“Ooh, nice accent,” he teases, though he does indeed love it. “Someone passed their French A-level.”

“Shut up,” Jon butts his head affectionately against his shoulder, his face flushing. “You’re just as bad with your insufferable Italian.”

“Alright, alright,” Tim lets out a small laugh. “It’s just, you never said. Seems like you enjoy it.”

“I did,” Jon replies, his eyes going distant. He gets like that, when he talks about his past. Tim knows very little of it, though Jon insists there’s ‘nothing to know.’ Jon’s told him about what brought him to the institute in a rare moment of vulnerability, but other than that, he knows the bare minimum. “I still do, I suppose. You know, my Gran was the one who actually pushed me into the lessons.”

Jon doesn’t talk much about his grandmother. He remembers back when he first started, Jon disappeared for a week and Sasha kept checking her phone anxiously. Tim later found out that his grandmother had died, that Jon was the only one left to take care of such things. That Jon was an orphan. That Jon came back with that stiff upper lip even though he looked like shit, and promptly crumbled when Tim gave him an awkward, one-armed condolence hug. 

From what Tim knows, she wasn’t the greatest guardian. Far from it in his opinion. But she was all Jon had.

Not anymore.

“Said I needed something to distract me from- from-'' his voice stutters out and Tim wraps his arm around Jon’s waist- he knows. He doesn’t need the explanation. “Well, she wasn’t the type of person to recommend therapy. It was her way of showing that she cared.” Or just wanted you dealt with, Tim doesn’t voice.

“Did it work?” He knows the answer.

“Not at all,” Jon smirks and his hands abruptly fly across the keys in a lively, fast tune. Jon isn’t just good, he’s excellent. The way his eyes brighten and his face lights up - the man’s in his element. “Still enjoyed it, though. And I was pretty good at it, entered a few competitions.” Pretty good is more than an understatement, but Jon’s never been one to brag over things that truly matter.

“What’s this one called?”

“Rondo alla ingharese quasi un capriccio,” Jon rolls out in an over-exaggerated Italian accent. “More commonly known as Rage Over a Lost Penny.”

“You could’ve just said that.”

“I could’ve, yes,” he replies playfully, the lilting tones of the music perfectly matching his little smile. He’s an infuriating little bastard. Tim loves it.

“You didn’t want to go professional? Hit the big time?”

“Hardly,” Jon snorts in derision, his hands stilling again. “Gran was right, it wasn’t practical. No use paying for a degree in music when so few people make it.” The music, still lively, goes a bit softer. “Didn’t stop me from auditioning, though.”

“Really?” He tries to imagine a young Jon in front of a panel of judges. “Must have been nerve-wracking.”

“Indeed.” Jon says stiffly, his hands abruptly stopping as they hit a sour note. “I had a panic attack before my hands hit the keys.”

Tim winces in sympathy. “Oh, Jon…”

“And I haven’t played since.” Tim reaches out to take Jon’s hands in his own, although the man avoids his eyes. Jon puts up a hard exterior, but he’s very easily wounded. One wrong word, one bad experience- it’s internalized, played over and over in his head. People don’t realize that about him, but Tim knows better than others that the mind keeps score. “I think a part of me knew she was right. Shouldn’t have bothered.”

“That’s a pity,” Tim once again wishes Jon had one person he could’ve relied on as a child. One adult he could confide in or get encouragement from. He thinks about young Jon, tiny and traumatized and alone, and his chest aches with it. “I think you could’ve made it.”

“Sweet of you.” Jon leans against his side and closes his eyes. “But there’s no need to flatter.”

“It’s not flattery if it’s true,” Tim insists. And yeah, maybe he’s not well-versed in music, but he knows talent and passion when he sees it. He used to see it in his brother all the time. And it’s sad that Jon doubts himself so much. He should be able to at least enjoy his hobby without being reminded of the guilt and what-could’ve-beens.

“Always wanted to learn an instrument,” he begins carefully, letting go of one of Jon’s hands to tinker at the keys. “Maybe I’ll get a keyboard, you can show me the ropes.”

The hand still in his twitches, and he turns to see the small beginnings of a shy smile. Jon’s a good teacher, patient and kind when someone shows a genuine interest in what he has to say. And Tim would do anything to see that easy, boyish smile again, see those fingers flying across the keys with such enjoyment.

“Not sure if you can afford my rates, Stoker.”

“Hey-!”

A cough cuts into his argument. It’s the old woman who sat behind the counter as they arrived, and she’s looking at a spot somewhere above Tim’s ahead. He turns around.

DO NOT TOUCH.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” he drags Jon up from the seat, ignoring his squeak. “We’ll just be going now!”

They sprint out of the store, giggling like naughty school children the entire way. Jon’s genuine laughter is rare, and something to be treasured - nothing like the sarcastic snorts he usually prefers. 

“Damn!” Jon swears as he checks his watch, smile still lingering on his face despite the furrow in his brow. “We were supposed to interview that witness at noon, it’s already half past.”

“Don’t worry, this was a necessary detour,” Tim assures him. And for him, it was. “Piano could’ve been haunted, after all.”

Jon rolls his eyes as he barks out a laugh. “Haunted. Yes, of course.”

On the train, Tim googles how much a keyboard costs. He’s thinking he might take it up after all.  

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31219403

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

Make A Scene

AMHL – Masterlist

Dick immediately noticed when Y/N started getting quieter and quieter as they got closer and closer to the venue.

Bruce had hired a driver to pick them up from their apartment in Gotham. And the car had gone quiet now. 

Dick reached over to gently hold her hand.

“Nervous?” He asked.

Y/N shrugged, not really seeing the point in trying to lie to her boyfriend.

“This isn’t your first rodeo, ya know.”

She gave him a look. “You know that wasn’t the same.” Her eyes flickered to the driver. “I wasn’t exactly…myself. And I wasn’t your girlfriend.”

Also, tonight they didn’t have the security and comfort of being at Wayne Manor.

No, instead this particular event was being held at the ballroom of Gotham’s most extravagant five-star hotel. It was a party for Wayne Enterprises, not a personal charity or party of the Wayne family.

Bruce had kindly asked Dick and Y/N to attend when board members and business partners started asking if the whole family would be attending. Jason hadn’t answered anyone’s calls or texts about it. None of them expected him to show up. Tim had to attend since he worked for Wayne Enterprises. And Damian…Well, Damian was his father’s son and not yet an adult. He basically had to do whatever Bruce asked of him while he lived under his roof.

“I’m not gonna leave your side,” Dick promised.

He squeezed her hand to further emphasize it.

Their car pulled up to the carpet at the bottom of the stairs.

There had to be a hundred journalists and photographers, along with random civilians who had nothing better to do than to see Gotham’s elite get out of cars and walk into a hotel.

Dick took in a deep breath.

Thankfully the car’s windows were tinted and protected them from any onlookers.

“Ready?” He asked her.

She nodded.

Dick opened the door and ignored the screams and flashes as he carefully helped Y/N out of the car with his offered hand. He also shielded her from the photographers to give her a moment to get out and adjust herself before they could capture any photos of her.

“Mr. Grayson! Mr. Grayson! Who is your mystery girlfriend?” Someone yelled.

Sometimes Y/N forgot that Dick was somewhat of a celebrity in Gotham City through association.

It wasn’t like people were asking for selfies everywhere he went. Or that the paparazzi were following his every move.

But in Gotham, people took note of where Dick Grayson went and who he was with.

And everyone noticed he’d had the same woman on his arm for quite some time now.

Even though Y/N and Dick had been dating for over a year, the media still couldn’t figure out Y/N’s identity. 

What they didn’t realize was that she controlled every single piece of information about herself that lived on the internet.

They didn’t stand a chance. 

Dick smiled and waved at people who called his name. But his hand other hand never left Y/N’s as he helped her up the stairs.

“Who are you wearing?” A female journalist yelled at Y/N.

She ignored them and focused on getting up the stairs without tripping and face planting. Not that Dick would ever let that happen.

However, she knew her outfit was going to draw gazes.

Y/N had made a promise to herself that if she was going to be forced to attend events like this with Dick, then she was going make a statement. People were already going to be staring at her, so she figured she might as well give them something good to stare at.

Instead of wearing a typical cocktail and formal dress, Y/N wore a full men’s suit that was tailored to perfection, but with the bowtie undone. It was what the fashion magazines would describe as “androgynous” in the press tomorrow morning.

Y/N wanted to control her own narrative. And she’d rather be judged for her bold decisions than just her trying to blend in.

Bruce insisted on paying for all the boys’ date’s dresses – in this case, suit – if they happened to bring one. He always thought it was more of an incentive for them to attend these terrible events if he encouraged them to bring significant others. And the press always had a field day with it, which only helped throw people of their trail when it came to their secret lives as vigilantes.

Everyone kept screaming Dick’s name as they walked in, and Y/N wondered how he got so good at smiling through the chaos and ignoring them.

Once they were inside, Dick felt the tension leave Y/N’s body a bit.

“Alcohol?” He offered with a smirk.

“Yes, please.”

He nodded, knowing it was exactly what she needed.

Quickly, he grabbed two champagne flutes off a passing waiter.

They clinked glasses.

Then he leaned forward and whispered in her ear, “Thank you for being my date.”

Y/N smiled at his sincerity.

Dick sighed before he threw back the champagne, “The quicker we find Bruce and prove we were here, the sooner we can leave.”

“Try not to sound so excited,” she laughed darkly.

Suddenly felt a small human wrap around her thighs.

Y/N gasped in excitement, “Dami!”

Dick smiled as he looked down at his 10-year-old brother hugging his girlfriend.

“Dick gave me the drawing you made for us. It’s so beautiful. I’m trying to find the perfect frame for it,” she told the boy.

Damian beamed with pride at that.

Suddenly the boy started asking a million questions about Stoker, one of his kittens that he’d given to them to take care of when Bruce gave a limit to how many cats Damian was allowed to have in the manor.

Then, to Dick’s shock, he saw Jason slowly walk over to them with his hands in his pant pockets.

He was not at all dressed nice enough for the event. No suit jacket. No tie. His white button-up shirt wrinkled, messily tucked into his pants, and with two many buttons undone. The sloppiness of it all clearly wasn’t an issue with the women, seeing as all of them were ogling Jason.

“Todd,” Damian greeted coldly, pausing his conversation with Y/N, who whipped around at the name.

“Hey, you,” Y/N smiled as she went to greet him.

Jason gave her a friendly kiss on the cheek and a quick hug.

“I really didn’t think you were coming,” Dick told his brother.

“Well, I wasn’t. But I got a business engagement.”

Y/N and Dick shared a confused look.

“What do you mean?” Dick asked.

“I found my neighbor crying on her fire escape a few nights ago. Apparently… one of the finance bros of Wayne fucking Enterprises was everything but a gentleman to her.”

Y/N’s eyes widened in realization. “J, I already took care of that.”

“I know,” Jason nodded as his eyes scanned the room. He was clearly on a personal mission tonight. “You deleted the evidence. I am teaching him a lesson.”

Dick slowly put together what they were implying.

“Oh, please don’t make a scene, Jason.” Dick begged him.

Because he knew Bruce wouldn’t be dealing with the aftermath; it would be him.

“Don’t worry!” Jason laughed. "I’m gonna take him outside before I beat the shit out of him. No one here will even notice. It’ll be fine,” Jason assured him as he gave Dick a far too heavy slap on the back.

“Just tell Bruce and he’ll get him fired,” Dick tried to convince him to take the less violent route.

“Oh, we already did,” Y/N muttered.

Dick’s gaze shot to his girlfriend.

“He’s getting fired on Monday,” she clarified sheepishly.

“Since when do the two of you work together behind my back?” Dick accused them.

But he wasn’t actually mad about anything – maybe just a little bit bitter.

Jason opened his mouth.

“I swear to God, Jason, if you say ‘club business,’ I will lose it…” Dick warned.

Y/N tried to hide her smile.

“Got him,” Jason growled as he glared at someone on the other side of the room.

As soon as he left them, Dick gave Y/N his full attention.

“Seriously?” He accused.

“I’m sorry! He asked me for a favor and I was happy to do it once I realized what it was,” Y/N defended.

Dick pouted a little. Mostly because he hated being left out.

“Don’t worry, ya big baby. I’m still your ‘guy in the chair’ and no one else’s,” she teased before giving him a kiss, immediately wiping the lipstick off his lips.

“How come Jason gets to beat up people at events like this, but I’m expected to behave like a well-trained dog?” Damian mumbled.

Dick sighed and shook his head.

“Jason likes to think he’s a lone wolf who doesn’t have to play by the rules,” Y/N tried to comfort the boy.

To distract Damian from getting further into how unfair it was, Y/N asked him to show her more of his drawings.

This seemed to please Damian and he pulled his phone out, flipping through photos and showing Y/N his recent sketches.

With Y/N being entertained by his youngest brother, Dick decided to go to the bar and get the two of them a stronger drink and maybe get a kiddie cocktail for Damian. He’d pretend to be patronized and annoyed by it, but Dick knew better.

He patiently waited for the bartender’s attention. 

“So Gotham’s Golden Boy really has returned…” a husky voice uttered beside him at the bar.

Dick glanced over to see a beautiful woman close to his age eyeing him.

It was clear what she wanted. Dick used tactics like this on countless missions.

“So I have,” he answered.

He was polite, but distant.

Women hitting on him at events like this was nothing new. To Gotham, Dick Grayson was a Bruce Wayne 2.0 – younger, just as charming and handsome as his mentor and stand-in father figure. 

Dick knew how to play the game. But he never had any interest in casual relationships like Bruce did.

“Back for good?” The woman persisted.

“My girlfriend and I are just in town for a few weeks,” he answered before ordering his drinks with the bartender finally.

“Oh, brought up the girlfriend rather quickly,” she laughed.

Dick quirked an eyebrow. “Is that a problem?”

“No, it’s just…my friends and I had a bet going.”

Then she pointed to a group of three young women, who were giggling and smiling, not even trying to pretend like they weren’t watching them closely.

“Oh, yeah?” Dick asked, already tired of this conversation.

--

Jason had already rejoined Y/N and Damian.

Y/N looked down to see his knuckles red with irritation and bruised.

“Please tell me there’s not a corpse in the alley behind this hotel now…” Y/N sighed.

“No,” Jason answered coldly. “Though there fucking should be.”

“What did he do?” Damian asked curiously, clearly he hadn’t been listening to their earlier conversation that closely.

Y/N shifted her weight in discomfort, not sure how to handle the subject with the boy. Yes, Damian was far more mature than many grown men, but he was still just a kid. There were some things Y/N felt like they should at least try to protect him from still. 

“He got my neighbor too drunk to consent, filmed them having sex without her knowing it, and then showed it to a bunch of people at their work,” Jason answered bluntly.

Damian’s brow furrowed, clearly thinking long and hard about what his brother just told him.

After a moment, the boy perked up, “I know where we could hide the body so even father won’t find out.”

“Damian!” Y/N scolded.

But Jason was beaming.

Y/N looked around for Dick, hoping to find another sane person to stop the two boys from actually murdering anyone tonight.

But when she finally spotted him, she saw a woman standing far too close to Dick and pointing to a group of girls who flirtatiously waved and winked at both of them.

“Real cute,” Y/N muttered to herself.

“Vultures,” Damian growled as he followed her gaze.

“Jason, if I leave you alone with Damian, are you going to kill someone?” She asked without taking her eyes off her boyfriend.

“I don’t need to be watched,” Damian groaned.

“No, I need you to watch Jason to make sure he doesn’t change his mind about keeping that asshole alive.”

“Fine,” Damian whined.

Without any further confirmation, Y/N left them. 

She walked across the party on a mission, never taking her stare off of her boyfriend.

Dick did a double take when he noticed her heading towards him.

“Hey,” he greeted innocently.

Because he was innocent. All he’d done was be polite to a bunch of women who were after him for his name…and maybe his good looks.

“I was wondering where my drink was,” Y/N said with a surprising calmness and smile.

Then she turned to the woman. 

“Hi, I’m Y/N. You must be a friend of Dick’s.” 

She held her hand out.

No cattiness. No rudeness.

Y/N said it with the same kindness that drunk women having with other drunk women in bar bathrooms.

“Oh…I’m Irina,” the woman stuttered as she took Y/N’s offered hand, clearly confused by Y/N’s niceness.

Dick held out her drink.

Y/N took it, quickly clinked her glass with both Dick and Irina.

“Cheers,” she sang before tossing it back and chugging the drink that was meant to be slowly sipped.

Dick didn’t know what game his girlfriend was playing, but he was intrigued.

Once Y/N lightly placed her empty glass back on the bar, she turned to Dick and tilted her head to the side. “Could you show me to the bathrooms? I have no idea where they are.”

“Of course,” Dick answered without knowing where this was going.

“It was nice meeting you, Irina,” Y/N told the woman as she linked her fingers with Dick’s and guided him away.

—

Meanwhile, Jason watched the interaction as if he were watching an award-winning movie. Him and Damian were way too far to hear, but everyone in the bat family could read lips more than fluently.

Then Jason smirked as he watched Y/N drag Dick away.

“Boys,” Bruce greeted as he snuck up on the two of them. “What are we staring at?”

“Oh, you know,” Jason hummed with hilarity, “just watching Y/N assert her dominance.”

“Good for her,” Bruce grinned as he realized what was happening.

He moved his attention to his youngest boy. “Alfred is waiting outside with the car. You’re officially released from your duties.”

“Finally,” Damian groaned.

“Don’t you wanna say bye to Y/N?” Jason asked.

“They’re coming to the manor tomorrow afternoon,” Bruce answered for his son. Then he raised a brow at Jason. “You’re welcome to join us.”

Jason’s only response was a shrug.

Bruce tried to hide his disappointment and nodded before he guided Damian away and walked him outside, where Alfred was waiting.

10 minutes later, Jason saw Dick trailing behind Y/N as she walked back to the main area of the event.

Jason burst out laughing at the spectacle. 

Dick’s hair was an absolute mess. Half of his shirt was untucked. His jacket was draped over his forearm. His lips were swollen and pink. Y/N had left lipstick all over his neck and even a bit on the collar of his shirt.

Yet somehow not a single hair was out of place on Y/N and her makeup was still immaculate. Her outfit was just as sleek and clean as when she’d arrived. The only thing different was the proud smirk on her lips.

Clearly Y/N had just had her way with Dick.

But she wanted to make sure the whole party knew about it.

—

Y/N hadn’t said a word to Dick since she dragged him from that woman.

Her body did all the talking.

One second they were at the bathroom doors, the next Y/N had thrown him against the tiled wall after locking the bathroom door.

She gave no verbal explanation, just started kissing him and undoing his pants.

“Not that I’m complaining. Like, at all,” Dick laughed as they rejoined the party. “But wanna to tell me what that was all about?”

Y/N finally stopped walking and turned to face him with narrowed eyes. “I think you know, Richard.”

Y/N only ever used his full first name to provoke and tease him. And he hated that it worked every single time.

Dick glanced around to see that everyone in their vicinity was eyeing them. Well, they were mostly eyeing him and how it was clear he’d just been fucked in the bathroom.

He stepped close to her and lowered his voice, “Ohhh, I see how it is.” His eyes flickered down to her lips for a split second. “If a guy does that, he’s jealous and possessive. But if a woman does it, it’s sexy…”

Y/N proudly smiled like the cheshire cat. “Exactly.”

Something over his shoulder caught her attention. “Oh, I see Tim. I’m going to go say hi.”

Without hesitation, she brushed past him.

Dick let his head fall, put his hands on his hips, and laughed.

He’d pay her back later tonight. And by ‘pay her back,’ he would just tell her how incredibly hot her behavior had been and basically invite her to do it whenever she damn well pleased.

Dick felt a presence beside him, and he didn’t have to raise his head to know it was Bruce.

“Hey,” Dick greeted him nonchalantly.

“You have lipstick all over your neck,” Bruce told him as he took a sip of his drink and looked around the party. “And your zippers down.”

“Sure is,” Dick sighed.

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

OK. This was way too fun to write. 

Let me know what you think!!!

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