#he could be a real soft sweetie

[thecoleopterawithana]

Lennon may not be at his most dynamic in Get Back but he’s still compelling, partly because he’s not the character we expected to meet. At least, he’s not who I expected. Having ingested many books about the Beatles I thought he was going to be fiery, caustic, domineering, and - in this period - bitterly scornful of McCartney. Yet the Lennon we see here is for the most part a rather gentle presence who acts as a calming mediator between Paul and George. He grins at Paul, laughs heartily at his jokes, listens patiently to him. There is something quite childlike about John, particularly when his face opens up into a smile as the band hits a groove, or when he’s sitting patiently on the floor with a guitar and Yoko, waiting for another take. When Ringo starts playing Octopus’s Garden with George, John says “What am I doing, Ritchie?” and gets on the drums. There is bravado, of course - as when, following George’s departure, he immediately suggests they get Clapton in and split George’s guitars. But there is tenderness, too: after George leaves, it is John who brings the three remaining Beatles together into a hug.

We are used to thinking of Lennon as the visionary and Paul as the pragmatist. Yet here it’s Paul who throws up wildly impractical ideas - a news show that ends in an announcement of The Beatles’ split, a TV spectacular, an album full of songs they haven’t written yet, by next week - and John who suggests, mildly and sympathetically, that they consider what’s actually possible.

— Ian Leslie, "The Banality of Genius: Notes on Peter Jackson's Get Back" (January 26, 2022).

[I was curious to read more of Ian Leslie's approach to the Beatles in general and Lennon-McCartney in particular, since he's currently writing a book about John and Paul's relationship: “John and Paul: A Love Story in Songs". He's also the author of that New York Times opinion piece that came out today.]

[street-smarts00]

Clingy

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (BAU!reader)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

WC: 3.7k

Summary: You tended to be very expressive with your friends when showing your affection. Whether it showed in pet names or physical touch. Only thing is, Spencer thinks he’s falling in love with you, and all of your sweet affectionate actions are starting to take a toll on his unrequited heart. At least, he thinks it’s unrequited. 

Tags: there’s a tiny bit of miscommunication but not too much that it will make your head explode like it does mine. Make out but nothing grown/spicy. Friends to lovers. A bit of hurt/comfort

A/N: Not beta read don’t kill me! yoooo spence is so in denial about her feelings in this but lol so real king. This is mostly from his POV but I had to cheat a few times. Hope i can live up to the hype that complimentary colors was. I low key don't like this one as much but had to execute it cause the idea was cute.

You were starting to drive him insane. Criminally insane. You could invade his thoughts at any waking moment of his day and take over his mind. Every affectionate pet name, every soft fleeting touch, hell every time you look at him, he would replay the moment in his mind like a broken record. If he was in a crowded room, his eyes would always fall on you. 

After being with the BAU for a while you became good friends with your coworkers. And with that, came your habit of calling your friends sweet nicknames. Anything from sweetie, to honey, to babes, and the one that broke his heart the most, my love. 

At first he didn’t understand why you were using terms of endearment that were typically used in a romantic relationship, but in a platonic way. At some point he caught on that you were similar to Garcia when it came to expressing your love for friends. Similar to her and the way she has her own sweet silly way of expressing how she cares.

Nevertheless, some small part of his heart still broke when you called him those names. He adored your sweet caring nature and the fact that you cared enough about him to call him terms of endearment. But every time a nickname fell from your lips, he was reminded you only meant it platonically. 

It was his own personal torture to constantly be reminded he would never be your sweetie, your honey … your love. But the nicknames weren’t enough to drive him insane. While it drove him to the brink of insanity, he was able to keep his head somewhat still on his shoulders. 

Not long after the heart warming but crushing nicknames, you showed your true love language. Physical touch. It showed in many forms. It could show when poking JJ in the shoulder and giving Emily a high five. Or nudging Morgan in his side with your elbow. You even managed to get a fist pump from Hotch and Rossi. And of course the welcome and goodbye hugs from Penelope. 

You were a bit hesitant at first to express this love language of yours with Spencer due to his aversion to touch and germs. However, you observed that he would gratefully receive occasional touches. Whether it be a hug, high-five, or even the rare ruffle of his hair -which of course would be from Morgan. So you approached him and asked if he was comfortable with physical contact. 

When it came to you, he was more than comfortable. You could take him in your arms and he would simply melt into a puddle on the floor. Except he didn’t say that and his reply was closer to a mix of stuttering and rambling about how you could never make him uncomfortable and how he just doesn’t like germs. 

Now he’s not saying he regrets his choices. He wouldn’t ever take it back. He enjoys every single lingering touch between the two of you. Actually “enjoys” would be a severe understatement. Every single time you ruffle his hair, lean your head on his shoulder, or even just carefully touch his arm, it was as if a thousand volts of electricity were flowing through him. Like he could light up the city even. You were the best part of his days and the reason breath filled his lungs. You brought a light into his life that made him feel safe and warm. 

He desperately wanted your affection, your attention, your touch, to mean something more than he knew it to be. But sooner or later, touch after touch, he started to go insane. Somewhere along the way he had daydreamed so deep he had lost his mind. 

You had officially driven Spencer Reid insane. 

He was promptly whisked away from his thoughts when he felt the tap of a folder on his shoulder and a light thump on his desk. 

“Hotch wants to know your thoughts on the consultation from Colorado,” you started. 

He blinked back into focus glancing at the papers on his desk. 

“Hey, you alright?” You asked with concern. “You look like your head is in the clouds.”

“I’m fine, just lost in thought,” he answered with a small smile reassuring you.

“Don’t get too lost. Can’t have your genius brain short circuiting on us.” You chuckled as you took a small step closer to him and playfully ruffled his hair. 

“I’ll try not to,” he grinned and pushed his hair back after you messed with it. 

“Well I’ll be back soon, my love. Gotta go bother Penelope,” you joked before making your way out of the bullpen. 

His gaze was lingering on you as you left. His thoughts started to drift to you again as his cheeks turned pink.

“I’ll be back soon, my love,” Morgan mimicked in a higher pitched voice with a grin as he approached Spencer's desk. In response Spencer turned his chair away from Morgan to hide his now red face. 

“When are you two going to start dating? You guys already act like a couple.” 

“We do not act like a couple,” Spencer argued. “She just sometimes calls me pet names, that's normal for her.” 

“You don’t see it do you?” Morgan furrowed his eyebrows and was seconds away from chuckling. “She’s been giving you quite a bit of attention lately. Practically clinging onto you.” 

“I mean I- I don’t think so. She does that with everyone, it's not just me. She just happens to be very affectionate with friends.” He answers as his voice almost cracked. 

Morgan shook his head, “Oh no it’s more than that. Have you ever noticed that she calls you “my love” but she calls us “love”? Or when we’re on a long flight back home and you two are all cuddly on the jet. How she always seeks out your company and finds an excuse to talk to you or about you.” 

Spencer couldn’t speak. He had so many words on the tip of his tongue but his voice wouldn’t make a sound. He sat frozen and mouth slightly agape as his brain started to go into overdrive. 

Morgan's face softened at Spencer's reaction. “It’s different with you kid. Friends don’t act like that.” 

“You and Garcia do.” Spencer countered, this time definitely with a voice crack. Morgan lightly chucked. He was well aware that his and Penelope’s friendship was a bit different than other male/female friendships. 

“Okay you got me there, but you and Y/N aren’t me and Garcia. We may flirt with each other a lot but that’s our thing. You two have this care for each other like nothing I've ever seen.” 

Spencer was left stunned once again and Morgan could practically see the gears in his head turning.

“You may not notice it now, or hell you may not let yourself notice it now, but it’s true.” 

Those words rang in the back of Spencer's mind for days. Of course on a regular basis you would occupy his mind at any given moment. But now it wasn’t just thoughts about you. His mind was over analyzing almost every interaction between you and him, trying to find what Morgan had talked about. Some form of evidence that proved what you felt for him was beyond what he had initially thought. 

He was recounting all the recent times you had approached him out of the members of your team. He recalled all the times you were either hanging out or on the jet and you found yourself tracing patterns on his arm. He was rethinking when you started to use nicknames around him and how it could be different with him than with others. It turned out Morgan might be right, as Spencer realized the numerous times you referred to Garcia or Emily as “love”, but in the rare instance you said “my love” it was only ever directed to him. 

The idea of you liking him back had become an all consuming thought, but he was too terrified to ask you. What if Morgan was wrong? Profilers have been wrong before. He became petrified by the idea of asking you about it and possibly finding out his feelings were unrequited. But most of all, he was scared of losing you. Scared that if he brought it up he would make things awkward and ruin your friendship. He couldn’t lose you, not over something as trivial as his feelings. 

Unfortunately the mental toll this was taking on his mind started to show. Not so obvious that the everyday person would notice, but you weren’t an everyday person. You grew to know him like the back of your hand. So of course you started to notice the little changes in his behavior. His ever so slight flinch when you would initially touch him. His eyes which used to linger on you and catch your eyes from across the room, now focused almost anywhere you weren’t. The way his body froze when you placed a hand on his shoulder. The way his eyes partially widened when you called him anything other than his name. 

He tried to hide his worries from you, but you could tell something was bothering him. 

Something about you.

His overall behavior didn’t reflect that he was avoiding you or distancing himself from you. He still talked to you and acted around you like normal. Instead it felt like he was holding himself back from receiving or truly appreciating your affection the way he used to. 

~

Days had passed and the team was sent on a case. While this case was an emotional rollercoaster for everyone, it had affected you the most. The victims had reminded you of yourself and the unsub and all of his delusional reasoning for his actions had hit very close to home. 

The team caught the unsub and closed the case quite late in the evening. Everyone was exhausted after the grueling past few days and decided to spend the night at the hotel to rest and leave in the morning. You however, still felt an ache in your stomach from all the anxiety felt throughout the day. You couldn’t seem to relax and let that weight off your shoulders. So you went to the one person who could help.  

Spencer was getting ready to go to sleep, peacefully reading a book in bed when he got a knock on his door. He placed his book down and when he opened the door he was greeted by you in pajama pants and a zip up hoodie, clearly also winding down for the night. 

“Hey,” you greeted. 

“Hi, what’s up? Is everything okay?” he asked, a bit concerned as to why you showed up at his hotel so late at night. He opened the door wider signaling you were welcome inside. You entered the room and stuffed your hands in your pockets as he closed the door. 

“I’m okay I just …” you cleared your throat. “I know this case has been a tough one but today’s been really hard for me. I’m still wired and awake, I can’t seem to relax enough to go to sleep,” You abruptly stopped your rambling to catch your breath. 

“This might sound dumb but, I’m in desperate need of a hug right now,” you finally admitted quietly.

He hated seeing you so timid and closed off. How you made yourself smaller than you were, all because you were asking for your basic needs to be met. 

“You don’t have to explain yourself.” 

“Huh?” 

“You don’t have to explain why you need a hug. You can just ask,” he said reassuringly. 

“Oh.” 

“Physical contact has been shown to increase levels of dopamine, serotonin, and even oxytocin; therefore, decreasing levels of stress and anxiety. Some people might even argue that physical touch is a fundamental element of being human and experiencing life.” His other way of trying to validate your feelings was of course rambling a string of facts and information from his fingertips. 

You couldn’t help but smile. God he loved it when you smiled. 

“So is that a yes?” you asked since you never exactly got an answer from your question in the first place. Even though you knew what his answer was. 

The corners of his lips turned into a grin. “Come here,” he says with outstretched arms. 

You practically ran into him at his offer. He wrapped his arms around you as you placed yours around his neck. He wished this moment could last forever. All while at the same time Morgan's previous statements were circling around in his head. 

He tried his best to push them away. He tried to tell himself this was not you acting on any potential feelings for him. This was simply you reaching out to a friend in need. 

He took note of the way you held onto him so tightly, almost as if he could leave at any second. It made his heart ache. 

“You feel tired,” he almost whispered. 

“I am,” you mumbled back, face buried in his neck. 

“Do you wanna lie down?” 

You lightly patted him on the back, “Don’t worry I’ll leave you be and go to sleep soon. I just need a minute 

“I meant … I meant do you want to lie down here?” He stammered. “So you’re not alone. You seem like you need a friend right now.” 

His own heart almost cracks when he says friend. But that’s what you need right now, a friend. 

“I’d like that,” you said with a small smile. 

You separate from him and he leads you to the bed holding your hand. He sits down against the headboard and waits for you to join him. 

You awkwardly sit down on the bed, eyes darting in all directions of where he’s sitting. “I- what should I …” 

“You could sit down the way you do on the jet,” he kindly offers. 

You relax at his words and move to sit at his side. He wraps his arm around you as you rest your head against his shoulder. You both sat there in a moment of silence, enjoying eachothers company. He was getting lost in the sweet smell of your perfume; the small bit of it that still lingers from the long day you’ve had. 

He started to recall all the times you two would be close like this. It didn’t happen very often. Sometimes on a long jet ride home from a long or stressful case. Or sometimes when the team went out for drinks and you would be tired from dancing. In the rare occasions you two were like this, you would tend to draw patterns on his arm or leg. 

So he decided to finally return the favor. With the arm he had wrapped around you, he started to dance his fingertips over your upper arm. 

He felt you practically melt into him at the action. If you could get any closer to him, you did. 

He continued tracing your arm with an overwhelming amount of care. It made you consider his previous actions compared to how welcome you were now in his arms. 

“Spencer, I’m gonna ask you something, and I need you to be completely honest with me,” you spoke with a hidden hesitation in your voice. 

“Of course I’ll be honest to you. I always will be,” he furrowed his brows at the thought of you being scared of him lying to you. 

You let out a small, almost shaky breath. “Am I clingy?” you murmured. 

This made his hand on your arm stop. He shifted his sitting position so he could face you better but also didn’t want to let you out of his hold. 

“No, never,” he told you with assurance. “Why would you think you’re clingy?” 

He saw you hesitate once more before you gave him your reply. “I was just overthinking things. Worried I was taking the physical contact thing too far or that I’m a bit too affectionate at times.“

“Why would you be worried? You’d never take things too far. You’ve always been respectful of other people’s boundaries.” 

You sighed with a shaky breath. He could practically see through you and see you considering your response. 

“Because I thought I was making you uncomfortable.” you looked down to avoid his gaze. 

He was quiet for a second, absolutely baffled as to how you would think you could ever make him uncomfortable. “Why?” His question was a barely audible whisper.  

“You seemed different. All of a sudden you would freeze when I touched you. You became jumpy and skittish when I talked to you. I thought I was too much for you but you didn’t want to tell me about it.” 

You shifted away to face him and his hand fell from your arm. You fidgeted with the sleeves of your hoodie as your face went blank. 

“You could never be too much for me,” he spoke with a soft voice. He tried to reach his hand out to hold yours but your hand disappeared in your sleeve at his touch. 

“Then why were you different all of a sudden?” You narrowed your eyes at him. 

His cheeks started to turn pink, “I- I wasn’t.” 

“Yes you were.” 

“Y/N please,” he begged. 

“Spencer,” you whispered as your eyes bore into his. “You said you’d be honest with me.” 

He licked his lips and his face turned red. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place. He couldn’t find an escape route. He had no choice but to tell you. And once the flood gate opened, he would never be able to close it. 

“I was freaking out,” he blurted. 

“I was freaking out because Morgan implanted this idea in my head that you might possibly have feelings for me based on the way you act around me. I’ve been obsessed with that thought since he mentioned it. So I freaked out almost every time you touched me, talked to me, even looked at me,” he rambled on anxiously as he tried to explain himself. No holding back now. 

“I tried not to let it change my behavior but I guess it did and I am so sorry for that. I never wanted to give you the impression that I was uncomfortable. To be honest I don’t think you could ever make me uncomfortable” 

You were silent for a moment. He couldn’t read your reaction. Your eyebrows slightly raised with your lips parted. He could only see surprise, which was typical, he just didn’t know if this kind of surprise was good. 

“Why were you so obsessed with the idea of me having feelings for you?” 

He could’ve sworn his heart was going to beat out of his chest at any moment. 

“Because I think I’m falling in love with you.”

 Here we go. Flood gates. 

“The idea you might like me back became an all consuming thought because I never before thought it was possible and I never wanted to get my hopes up. Actually, I pretty much think about you all the time so it wasn’t that far from normal. ” 

“You’re falling in love with me?” you asked barely above a whisper. 

“Yes,” he spoke softly with full confidence. 

The only change to your appearance was your eyes widened a bit more. It made Spencer's heart sink to his stomach. 

“Listen, I understand if this makes things weird between us and I am so sorry. I just couldn’t ..”

He couldn't finish his thought, you were too busy locking your lips with his. It was a sweet but cautious kiss, almost as if you were testing the waters in uncharted territory. You felt him freeze against you so you leaned away, breaking from the kiss. 

Not even seconds later Spencer placed a hand on your face and was diving back into the kiss with fervor. You instantly reacted as your arms found their way around his neck and your hand was digging in his hair. The kiss was intoxicating. Both of you trying to get a taste of the other after what felt like eons of pinning. 

He wrapped his arms around your waist while his one hand snuck up to the small of your back where your hoodie had exposed your skin. It sent a shiver up your spine while you let out a shaky breath against his lips. You tried shifting in your seat to somehow get closer to him. With his hands against your waist he helped guide you to sit in his lap straddling him. 

When you finally break from the kiss your faces are red and Spencer rests his forehead against yours. You focus on the sound of his breath and the feeling of your heart practically beating in your ears. 

Your hand moves to play with the hairs at the nape of his neck. “I guess I didn’t do a very good job at showing I had feelings for you.” 

The corners of his mouth lift up into a giddy smile. “No, you did. I’m just oblivious.”

“Sounded like you were in denial,” you lightly teased. 

“That too,” he chuckles. 

After a moment of enjoying each other's presence, you pull away from him just far enough to look him in the eyes. 

“I know I call everyone pet names, but every time I used them with you, I wanted it to mean something more. Part of me would always hope you would one day call me those names back,” 

Spencer swore his heart could give out at any second. He never expected to hear this from you and it made him lightheaded.

“This may sound childish but.. I never craved attention so badly, until you gave me yours,” you added. 

He licked his lips and smiled. With his hands still on your waist he traced mindless patterns at your sides. “You have my complete and undivided attention, my love.”

His words made you giddy. You bit your lip to keep yourself from giggling. Although, he would never be opposed to hearing your beautiful laugh. 

There were no words to describe the way that you felt. So without thinking, you leaned forward once more to capture his lips with yours. 

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Tag Requests: @nomajdetective

[honey-on-your-tongue]

Kinktober day two

STOP STOP STOP. Sex tape with OLD MAN LOGAN

“You camera shy, sweetie?” he teases as he sets up the recorder, his eyes seeing how you blush and hug yourself.

“I've just never done this before,” you admit shyly, cautiously eyeing the recorder.

“'s okay, baby. You know I'm not gonna show it to anyone, it's just for us,” he assures you as he stands up straight.

When Logan had first suggested the idea, you'd been against it. Mostly because you'd never recorded yourself having sex and it scared you. Then one day, you'd let it slip that you were curious about it, and when he said you two could try it out slowly and stop if you were uncomfortable, you agreed.

“I know,” you mumble. “It's still a little weird. I feel...like I'm being watched.”

“That's the fun part, sweet thing,” he tells you, walking over to you.

He pushes you to lie back on the bed and he kneels on the floor, his head between your thighs. He kisses you softly, smirking up at you when your legs quiver.

You glance at the camera again, eyes uncertain.

“Look at me, baby,” he says, sucking a hickey onto your thigh, just below the edge of your panties. “Eyes on me. Forget about the camera.”

You glance down, watching his dark eyes become fierce with an animalistic desire.

He nuzzles his face against your mound, groaning lowly as he feels you already wet through the thin fabric.

You gasp, eyes fluttering.

“That's it, sweet thing. Relax for me, yeah? Just let daddy take care of you, hm?”

You nod softly, eyes on him. “Y-yeah, I just…what if I don’t look pretty on the camera?” you ask shyly, pretty cheeks blushing a soft pink.

Logan frowns, geniunely perplexed. “What? Baby, why wouldn’t you look pretty? You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met, and you look even prettier when I fuck you.”

Despite yourself, you giggle. Somewhere between nervous, embarrassed and flattered.

He smiles softly. “Don’t you ever doubt that, baby. You look gorgeous no matter what, yeah?”

“Okay,” you whisper, nodding softly.

“Atta girl. Now just let me take care of you. Ignore the camera, pay attention to me.” He licks your cunt through the fabric of your panties. “Understood?”

“Yes,” you say breathlessly.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, Daddy,” you whisper, eyes fluttering up to the camera.

He spanks the side of your thigh. “Eyes down here, bub. That camera ain’t gonna treat you how I do.”

You force your eyes down, holding his gaze. He grins, pleased, and gently pushes your panties to the side. He exhales softly. “Look at her, so pretty, so wet…” he murmurs, almost as if to himself.

You swallow thickly, heart racing in your chest. He can hear your heartrate increase and he smirks.

“I know, bub. You’re so eager for me, I’ll give you what you want.” He kisses your pussy. “And then, we’ll watch the video over and over again until you realize how beautiful you look when I fuck you.”

- - -

HEHEHE brain rot about old man Logan is TOO real

Blog masterlist

This has been updated to part of my Logan Kinktober 🫶🏼

Part 2 here!!!

[amirasainz]

Hey can you make one where Lewis and Readers mom are in a relationship and Reader kind of grows up with Lewis ad her stepdad. Over time she stops calling him Lewis and instead calls him Dad.

Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!

-xoxo babygirl 💜

The greatest title of them all

The sound of laughter echoed through the house as Marry stood in the kitchen, stirring a pot of soup. It was a cozy Saturday afternoon, with the warm sun casting a soft glow through the windows. In the living room, a ballet video played on the TV. It was a recording of Yn’s recent performance, and even though it wasn’t perfect in her eyes, she loved watching herself dance, especially with her mom and Lew nearby.

“Mom, can we watch it again?” Yn’s voice, small and tentative, broke through the quiet.

Marry looked up with a warm smile. “Of course, sweetie. Go ahead.” She set down the spoon and wiped her hands on a dish towel.

Lewis, who had been sitting on the couch, looked over at Yn. His heart swelled with affection every time she called him by his name—‘Lew’—a title he hadn’t even dreamed of when they first met. It wasn’t always this way. In the beginning, Yn was shy, cautious of him, unsure of his place in their home. But now, as she was snuggled up with him on the couch, her tiny frame leaning into his side, Lewis felt like the luckiest man in the world.

“Are you sure about the soup? You don’t need any help?” he asked, his voice gentle, watching her stir the pot. He didn’t want to pull her away from her task, but he also wanted her to know he was there if she needed him.

She chuckled softly. “I’m good, honey. Just enjoy your time with Yn. I’ll be right here.”

And he did enjoy it. Every single moment. Because Yn had become his little girl in so many ways, and he had become the father figure she never thought she needed.

---

Two years ago, when he first started dating Marry, things had been complicated. Yn was only five at the time, and she didn’t know how to process the idea of another man being in the house. Her dad had left when she was three, and for the past two years, her only family was her mom.

At first, she had called him “Lewis.” It had been strange for her, especially when he would show up to spend time with Marry. But over time, he began to do little things for Yn, making sure she felt included, loved, and heard.

Lewis had been there for her first ballet recital, sitting proudly in the front row with a bouquet of flowers, cheering her on just like a real dad would. He didn’t need to be asked—he wanted to be there.

“Good job, sweetheart!” he had shouted excitedly when she took her final bow.

Yn had smiled shyly, but the connection between them had deepened after that day. It wasn’t just that he showed up—it was that he cared. When she wanted to go to the waterpark for her birthday, Lewis had taken her. He had watched her face light up as she slid down the water slides and played in the wave pool.

At night, when they sat down to watch movies, he’d let her pick the movie—even if it was a Barbie movie she watched for the hundredth time. It didn’t matter to him. What mattered was the smile on her face.

“Let’s have a picnic, just the three of us!” Lewis had suggested one Saturday afternoon. He laid out a blanket in the living room, and they ate sandwiches, laughing as Roscoe tried to steal a piece of ham.

But more than the big moments, it was the small ones that cemented his place in Yn’s heart.

The nights he spent waiting for her to fall asleep on the couch so they could decorate her room together.

Or when they baked cookies in the kitchen, and Lewis taught her how to mix the dough just right, making a mess and laughing the entire time.

That's when 'Lewis' turned into 'Lew'.

Sometimes, it was the quiet moments that meant the most and change everything. Like the night Yn came to him after a bad dream.

---

The night had been quiet, the house wrapped in a blanket of calm. Marry was asleep beside Lewis, but a small sound stirred him from his slumber. He heard it again—soft, a hesitant knock.

“Mom?” Yn’s voice was faint.

Lewis heart leaped in his chest. He turned toward her voice. “Hey, Yn, you okay?”

Yn’s small figure appeared in the doorway, her face tight with worry. Her eyes, wide with fear, met his. “Lew… I had a bad dream,” she said, her voice cracking slightly.

Marry stirred in bed but didn’t fully wake up. Lew gently pulled back the covers, his heart aching at the sight of Yn standing there, so small and vulnerable.

“Come here, sweetheart,” he whispered, patting the empty spot beside him.

Yn climbed into the bed, curling up next to him. Her head rested on his chest as he wrapped an arm around her protectively.

“You’re safe here, okay?” Lewis whispered, his fingers running through her soft hair. “Bad dreams don’t stand a chance when you’re with me. I’ll keep you safe.”

“Thanks, Lew,” she mumbled, already beginning to relax in his arms.

He smiled down at her. And then, in that moment, something he never expected to hear passed her lips. “Dad?”

Lew’s heart skipped a beat. He held his breath, unsure of whether he had heard her right.

“I’m here, baby,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m right here.”

It didn’t take long for Yn to fall back asleep, her hand still gripping his, but from that night on, everything had changed. The way Yn looked at him, the way she started calling him Dad instead of Lew, felt like the most sacred gift he could ever receive. It wasn’t just a title. It was the confirmation of the bond they had formed together.

He had been there for her, in every way a father could be—attending her recitals, helping her with homework, making her laugh, teaching her how to ride a bike, taking care of her when she was sick. But it wasn’t until that night, when she whispered ‘Dad’ into the quiet of the night, that he knew he had become something much more than just her mom’s boyfriend.

---

As the days passed, the bond between Lew and Yn deepened. They were inseparable—Yn seeking comfort in him when the world felt a little too big and scary. When her dad stopped picking up the phone calls, when she felt abandoned, Lewis was there. He was her constant, her rock.

One evening, as they sat down to dinner, Yn hesitated, her little hands resting on the table, fiddling nervously with her napkin. She looked up at Lewis, her eyes big with a question she wasn’t sure how to ask.

Lew met her gaze with a smile, noticing her uncertainty. “What’s on your mind, kiddo?”

Yn bit her lip, then asked softly, “Do you think my papa will ever come back?”

The question hit Lewis hard, but he knew better than to lie to her. “I don’t know, sweetheart,” he said quietly. “But what I do know is that I’m here for you. Always.”

Yn nodded, her shoulders relaxing a little as she reached out and took his hand. “I’m glad you’re here, Dad.”

That was all Lewis needed to hear. He squeezed her hand, his heart full.

“I’ll always be here, baby,” he promised, leaning in to kiss the top of her head. “And no matter what happens, you’ll never be alone.”

Yn smiled, her trust in him unwavering. For her, Lewis was more than just a stepdad. He was her dad, the man who loved her, protected her, and gave her a sense of security that she had never known.

And for Lewis, there was no greater joy than knowing he had earned that place in her heart. He would always cherish the title of ‘Dad’—because it meant more than anything he could have ever imagined.

As they sat there, together at the dinner table, the sound of Marry’s laughter filled the room. And in that moment, Lewis knew that this—this family—was exactly where he belonged.

[katsukistofu]

peanut butter and jellyfish

contents ౨ৎ ⋆ h. shinsou x fem reader. 5k words — fluff. cursing. comforting insecurities. friends to secret lovers.

⭑ shenanigans with your not-so-secret boyfriend ft. sleepovers with eri, a cat eating pizza on you at 3am, your classmates being nosy, and an aquarium date.

note: your quirk is forensic sight! so ur gc name is the way it is bc ur eyes lol get it

You choke back a laugh as a very focused Eri puts yet another sticker on Hitoshi’s face. 

Snacks and pillows are strewn around the inside of the blanket fort the three of you finished building moments before. Stiller than a rock, your calm best friend sits there cross-legged so that Eri can give him a makeover of unicorns, stars, and rainbows. 

“Do you think he looks pretty yet?” Eri tilts her head at you.

“Like a real-life princess.” You giggle. “Good job, Eri!” 

“Yay!” She happily high fives the hand you hold up for her. “Do you feel pretty yet, Hito-nii?”

“I feel so bonita.” Hitoshi deadpans, sending you two into another fit of giggles.

“You were pretty already, Toshi,” you coo, rubbing a thumb over the sticker of a cat making sushi on his cheekbone. Mr. Aizawa must have bought that one for her.

Hitoshi pretends to shyly gaze at you from under his long lashes. “Aw, really?”

His lips curve into a lazy smile, and a heat that you’re all too familiar with rises up your neck, you turn away–a little too quickly, to Hitoshi’s amusement.

“Nevermind you’re ugly.”

He laughs and the heat creeps up to your cheeks.

Such a simple sound, yet that soft, husky voice of his always manages to make your insides a mushy mess, even when you had painfully tripped over his cat, Celery, when he transferred and first moved into the dorms with your class.

The normally stoic, reserved purple-haired boy had doubled over with an uncontrollable wheeze, supporting himself on the sofa as your groaning self was sprawled across the floor. 

God, they were lucky they were both cute.

Yet, you couldn’t help but smile as he reached a hand out to help you up, the other still covering his mouth. 

That was the first time you made him laugh, and now, you’ve heard it so many times that you could finally stop counting on both your hands’ fingers but you still wanted more.

“Want me to paint your nails, Eri?” You ask, scooting over to your bedroom’s drawer. 

You open it, your own light blue nails painted a color that reminds you of the sea against the pastel pink of the treasure box you take out. It had a heart-shaped diamond on the latch. 

The heavy box was filled with a collection of nail polish the girls in your class usually used for their sleepovers as well, and new bottles, mostly varying shades of apple red, started mysteriously appearing the day after Eri said she had never gotten painted her nails before. 

“Yes!” Eri’s eyes sparkle. “Can I please have matchy nails with Hito-nii?”

“Of course, sweetie.” You smile. She was adorable. 

Hitoshi rubs the back of his neck. “You sure you want yours black this time, Eri?”

“Yes!” She huffs stubbornly. “Like dad’s clothes and those things under your eyes!”

“Hey!” He protests. She shares a mischievous look with you and you both giggle, catching the pillow Hitoshi gently throws at you. 

“Oreo wouldn’t treat me like this.” Hitoshi reaches out to ruffle Eri’s hair and she squeals in protest, batting his hand away. 

Eri holds up the oversized panda plushie he was talking about. It was comically bigger than her, and you had to bite back a laugh.

The moment you two spotted it in the claw machine outside Shinsou’s favorite cat cafe near campus, you knew you had to win it to add to her ever growing collection of stuffed animals.

With a grin, you remember the huge sigh of relief Shinsou let out when it finally fell into the chute.

“Duh he wouldn’t ‘cause you’re his twin!”

Hitoshi mock gasps. “Take that back.” And tickles her neck, barely dodging as you throw the pillow he threw earlier back at him. 

“Woah!”

Except much, much harder.

“Don’t worry Eri, I'll protect you!” You grab another nearby pillow and throw it at him, which he easily catches in mid-air with one hand like it was a frisbee.

“Aw.” You pout. Mr. Aizawa was training him a little too good now.

Eri pats your arm to console you. “It’s okay I appre-shee—apree-shee—“

“Appreciate?” You offer, and her face brightens as she nods.

“Appree-shee-ate. You. For trying.” She finishes shyly.

“Aw, thank you Eri. I appreciate you too.” 

Hitoshi’s eyes soften at the sight of you two. 

“What about me?”

You scowl. “You can go duck yourself, Toshi.”

“Love you too.”

Eri suddenly gasps. 

“Dad says that to Uncle Zashi too!”

Despite already knowing the answer, Hitoshi and you turn to look at her suspiciously.

“…Which one?”

As if he knows you’re talking about him, Aizawa yells down the hallway.

“Eri, brats, pizza’s here!”

───────── 

“Can I have another hug?” Hitoshi asks coyly after class one day. 

The bell had just rung, and you roll your eyes at his leaning form on the wall of the almost empty hallway. 

Everyone was leaving for lunch.

Except you two, but that was Hitoshi’s fault.

“I just gave you one!”

“Oh no.” He places a dramatic palm to his forehead. “I think I’m going to pass out because of someone if I don’t get a hug in the next five seconds.”

“Greedy ass.” You sigh, wrapping your arms around his waist. 

He hides a grin, shuffling closer to close the gap between your bodies. 

Hitoshi smells like fresh linen with hints of sunshine, probably from his daily bike ride he took around campus before class started, and the coffee he brewed this morning. 

A sense of comfort settles into your bones as the familiar scent envelopes you, and you breathe it in. 

He softly tucks your head under his chin as you nuzzle your face deeper into his chest, your headache from taking the quiz in Ectoplasm’s class earlier now long gone.

“Did you know that when cats see that it's raining outside a window, they go to another window in the same room to check if it's still raining outside?” Hitoshi randomly whispers.

“I did not know that.” You giggle. His lips feel ticklish on your hair. “Does Celery do that too?”

“All the time.” Hitoshi grins. “I have a video from yesterday’s storm, I’ll show you in the cafeteria.”

“Ooh okay!”

He straightens, and takes your hand, your fingers easily lacing through his as you both start to head in the direction of the dining hall. 

When you trip over nothing, he snorts, already expecting it, and catches your waist before you take a fall that will be difficult for your ego and your knees to recover from.

“Careful,” he says as you clutch onto his school uniform in relief, and you swear that already deep, smooth voice of his drops an octave on purpose, almost sending you to the ground again.

Hitoshi’s thumb is still tracing small circles on the back of your hand as the both of you join the line for the traditional school lunch. You could try a different cuisine tomorrow. On today’s menu was miso seaweed soup with a side of grilled fish and a milk bread roll along with, of course, rice.

You feel a vibration on the side of your leg, and for the umpteenth time this school year you thank UA for adding pockets to the school uniform’s skirts as you slip your phone out. The jellyfish charm Hitoshi got for your birthday last year dangles from your case.

Surprise, surprise, it’s the class group chat.

-forklift uncertified -

it’s barbie bitch 

guysss guess what i sawwww

invisi-girl 

IS IT TODOROKI IN A PINK TUTU

 

pikachew

girl what 

invisi-girl 

u guys don’t get the vision

i saw it in a dream last night

the rock 

nah i get it dude

that would be so manly

ice spice 

I would not be completely opposed to the idea

invisi-girl 

SEE

it’s barbie bitch 

it’s even better >_<

it’s barbie bitch 

hitoshituckingyourhair

behindearwithasoftsmile.png

mochi cheeks

OHMYGOD!?1?2?2

SOCUTEEEEETES

airpods with wires

i saw that

airpods with wires 

can yall not flirt before lunch 

next time i’m gonna throw 

up before i get to eat

sue you 

AWWWW OUR LITTLE BABYS ALL GROWN UP

forensic balls [you]

FUCK U GUYS IM 17

yaomomo

exactly

a Baby :)

forensic balls [you]

yaoyao ur supposed

to be on my side </3

yaomomo 

sorry my love i cannot 

deny the facts </3

pikachew

Nahhh only shinsou can call her that guys ;))))

airpods with wires

wah wah wah

forensic balls [you]

one more word and i’m gonna change the gc name to fornite jiggle physics 

sue you

NO

yaomomo

No thank you

my chemical romance

what a mad banquet of darkness

it’s barbie bitch

babe look me in the

eyes this isn’t like you 

forensic balls [you]

try me. 

pikachew

DO ITTTTTTT

forensic balls [you]

ok just bc u told me to 

i won’t now 

scotch tape 

dayum rip denks

forensic balls [you]

also not my fault u guys 

have early ass birthdays smh

shirt guy

Senior citizen core fr

forensic balls [you]

ily midoriya

shirt guy

ilyt pookie xx 

kazoo-ki

Girl u aint slick

shirt guy

You’re so late omg

pikachew

bro has us on mute

kazoo-ki

shut up dunce face

kazoo-ki

How tf do I change my name

mochi cheeks

LMFAO

wiki-how

Bakugo it is fairly simple. 

wiki-how

First you click on your profile, then your personal settings. 

wiki-how

From there you press “Change Display Name” and you should be able to enter your name of preference. 

kazoo-ki 

K

better than you

Thanks glasses ig

wiki-how

You are very welcome.

kiri the rock

nice one dude!

sue you

wow egotistical much

better than you

You wish yours was as big as mine

pikachew

that’s what he said

it’s barbie bitch

omg it just hit me

it’s barbie bitch

the first person to 

finally get bitches in our class 

it’s barbie bitch

i’m so happy i could cry

pikachew

I GET BITCHES

sue you

yeah over the screen 

we're talking irl

pikachew

leave me and my otome games alone

forensic balls [you]

real 

forensic balls [you]

AND IM NOT DATING HITOSHI

it’s barbie bitch

HITOSHI????????

airpods with wires

first name basis is crazy

forensic balls [you]

fuck i mean *shinsou

scotch tape

y’all smell that

the rock

peeeyew

pikachew

smells like sum bullshiiii

kazoo-ki

Could’ve fooled me

yaomomo

You aren’t??? :(

yaomomo

But I wrote a reminder to wish 

you two happy anniversary and 

even bought tea to celebrate!

forensic balls [you]

….for what date

yaomomo

April 1st :(

forensic balls [you]

………………

airpods with wires  

@ it’s barbie bitch we can see u

across the cafeteria u are BAWLING

eyebags

what the fuck

Hitoshi bites back a laugh as your widened eyes meet his, glancing up from your phone.

“Not dating, huh?” He grins.

You groan and pinch his arm. “I panicked okay! I didn’t know what to tell them.”

“Hmm, do you want me to?”

“I mean, only if you want to.” You shyly play with his fingers. 

“I kind of like us being a secret from them for a little longer. It feels… nice.”

Hitoshi smiles. “I know what you mean.” He wrinkles his nose. “Though they’re so nosy it looks like they figured it out already.”

“Pffft, yeah.” Mina could definitely sniff out a relationship from miles away, no matter how much PDA you tried to sneakily do in empty hallways.

Hitoshi squeezes your hand in reassurance.

“I like it too.” He leans over, and your eyes are forced to meet the dark violet of his.

The side of Hitoshi’s soft-looking lips, courtesy of the strawberry chapstick he stole from you before class this morning, quirk up as he looks down at you with soft eyes, the ones he reserves for you and random cats he sees on the road.

“Chapstick thief,” you mutter.

“Oh, you want it back?” Hitoshi grins. “Kiss it off me then.”

Your cheeks grown warm. “Not here!”

“Good,” He smirks.

“I prefer keeping you all to myself, anyway.”

   ───────── 

“What’s wrong?” 

He’s crouching down so that your eyes have no choice but to meet his from your spot on the bean bag.

He gently pushes the switch in your hands down to your lap and pokes your thigh. You squirm away ticklishly. 

“Tell me.”

“No.” You huff, picking your switch back up. “I just wanna play Stardew, leave me alone.”

“Darling.”

Your face flushes at the pet name, and he smirks. His secret weapon still works without fail. Hitoshi didn’t even need to activate his quirk to have you under his thumb. 

“You’re not going to feel better if you keep it in. Tell me what’s wrong.”

His nails are still pink, you faintly notice, trying to distract yourself from your very attractive, very insistent boyfriend in front of you with his comforting hands placed on your thighs.

You painted his left hand, and Eri painted his right at the last sleepover you had together. She had insisted that he should match nails with her this time, since she matched with him last week.

It was already terrible and impressive that Hitoshi was a people-reader, even worse that he knew what to do to make you fold so easily and open up.

Curse you Hitoshi, you and your disposition for healthy communication.

You should have never recommended that therapist to him.

“I don’t know,” you finally mumble. He tilts his head, showing you that he’s listening. 

“I just feel like I don’t deserve it.”

“Deserve what, sweetheart?” He asks. The softness in his voice is unbearable and what you've been bottling up for weeks finally spills out.

“I feel like I don’t deserve it when good things happen to me.”

Hitoshi blinks, then lets out a snort. Which turns into a full blown laugh coming from his chest.

You shove his face away and he falls on his butt, still chuckling. 

“You’re making fun of me!” You say indignantly.

“Sorry, sorry, I just–” He coughs, and takes a breath to recollect himself. 

“You say a lot of dumb shit and I think that's the worst thing I’ve heard you say.”

You pout. “I’m feeling very invalidated right now.” Hitoshi rolls his eyes, and his hands reclaim their spot on your skin, except this time he’s gently cupping your face in his hands. 

He’s not used to comforting people, but you can see that he’s trying.  

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers, and you inhale sharply. “You’re kind, you’re intelligent, and I see you try so hard everyday. You always do a good job when you set your sights on something. Why don’t you deserve good things?”

“I don’t know.” Your gaze is numbly pinned to the silver chain around his neck, the one with a little crescent moon on it that he wears everyday, not even taking it off when he goes to sleep. The one you gave to him. 

“That’s okay.”

His thumbs caress your cheeks, and you think you can breathe a little easier. 

“Let's think of it this way,” Hitoshi says, still cupping your cheeks, grounding you. “It’s not about whether you deserve it or not. Do you want it?”

You finally meet his eyes, and answer with a voice shakier than you’d like it to be. 

“I do. I want good things for myself.”

“Atta girl,” Hitoshi says with a proud quirk of his lips. 

You stare at him, your heart suspended in your chest, feeling better but still looking a bit unsure.

Hitoshi notices this from the way you start biting the inside of your cheek, and he leans his forehead against yours. You freeze. 

He smells like fruit, like freshly washed blueberries and those ripe strawberries in the kitchen in the dorm’s fridge. “That’s more than enough. We can work from there.”

There’s still a worried furrow between your eyebrows.

“Come on, sweetheart. We can go to the aquarium you love this weekend.”

He smirks as you perk up at that, drinking up the rare, shy expression suddenly on your face again, and leans down to your ear. 

“You’re so easy,” Hitoshi whispers. 

You grumble, you could hear that stupid grin in his voice.

“Sorry, I can't hear you with your face in my chest.”

You raise your head to glare at him and his heart soars. There was his girl.

God, his smug face was starting to irritate you more and more. "I said that if you were my husband I'd poison your tea!" 

“If you were my wife, I'd drink it."

   ───────── 

-thot pockets -

it's barbie bitch

omg guess who i just saw 

cuddling in front of the tv

it's barbie bitch

youwrappedlikeaburritoinhitoshisarms.png

dating allegation #1 

MINA WTF DELETE THAT

dating allegation #1 

WHY R U STALKING US

[dating allegation #2 saved an image]

dating allegation #1 

BRO WHOS SIDE ARE YOU ON

dating allegation #1 

PURPLE MINION LOOKING BITCH

dating allegation #2

ok forensic penis

dating allegation #2

who changed my user

pikachew

me

cuz u guys are NOT beating 

them :laughcry::laughcry:

ice spice

I am just confused as to why 

you two are sitting on each other 

ice spice

When the rest of the couch 

appears to be unoccupied

ice spice

Perhaps this is a new 

procreation method?

mochi cheeks

TODORKIWHATHAHVDHSHA

pikachew

LMDFAOOOOOOOOO

ice spice

? 

dating allegation #1 

WHATTHEFUKC

the rock

never change bro 

sue you

IACTAULKYLCANT BREATHE HELP

it’s barbie bitch

ME NEITEHHR

dating allegation #2

Whenever my eyebags get darker

dating allegation #2

Just know I blame it on all of you

   ───────── 

“Celery?” You mutter, rubbing your bleary eyes. “What are you doing?”

“Mrow.” The cat continues eating the slice of… pizza? On your chest.

It looks like the one that you and Hitoshi ordered earlier after quizzing each other for Present Mic’s exam.

 

“I love you so much but I am so confused.”

You reach for your phone to text Hitoshi, your still-asleep hands fumbling a bit on the nightstand.

toshi <3 [12 hrs ago]

us 

you [12 hrs ago]

literally us <3

toshi <3 [12 hrs ago]

want to order takeout and 

watch ouran highschool after

we study for tmrws exam

you [12 hrs ago]

yes please omg

you [now – 03:24]

hey

can u explain why ur daughter

is eating pizza on my boobs

at 3am

toshi [03:30]

whar

?

toshi [03:31]

OHfMGOD

CELERU

Not even five minutes later, he’s knocking on the door to your room. You open it, and the sight of a very sleepy looking Hitoshi greets you. His already unruly bedhead is even messier than usual and you’re pretty sure he’s wearing his shirt backwards. Did he put it on before coming over? 

Wait.

You blink, long and hard, banishing the thoughts of a groggy, very shirtless Hitoshi lying in his bed, with the light of his phone screen illuminating his handsome features as he replies to your text. Those four hours of sleep must finally be hitting you.

Hitoshi sees you blinking, and takes it as a sign you’re still in shock at the pizza monster in your lap.

He gives an awkward pat to your shoulder in reassurance.

“I think this is just how she shows affection.” Hitoshi stares down at Celery fondly.

The way you stroke her fur so softly makes his chest feel warm and tingly.

“Does she eat leftover pizza off your chest at three in the morning?”

“...No.”

“Hah. She said she likes me better. ” You smirk victoriously. “Isn’t that right sweetie?”

The calico cat purrs as you scratch her ears, a bit of tomato sauce under her chin. Hitoshi exaggeratedly puts his hand over his heart at this scene of betrayal.

“Seriously? Celery, I took you off those streets and raised you like I was the one pregnant with you for nine months.”

“Mrow.” She bumps her head against your hand.

“Pfft, give it up Toshi. It’s time for you to hand over the adoption papers.”

Hitoshi rubs the back of his neck. “Or we could just share custody.”

“What?” Your cheeks grow warm. “You want me to be her mom?”

“I mean you kind of already are. Look at her,” he says, eyes softening as he looks at the two of you. 

Celery has her paw on your arm. After eating until her little tummy was full, she was already starting to doze off.

“She takes after me.”

You let out a derisive snort.

“Yeah you looked just like that after our binge marathon today too."

“Not in that way.”

He smirks at your confused reaction.

“Then what do you mean–”

At that moment, Celery decides it’s the perfect time to snuggle into your tank top, smearing what’s left of the pizza on her face all over it.

Hitoshi’s eyes widen. He laughs, covering his mouth.

You’ve never been so glad you chose to wear black to sleep.

   ───────── 

“Trouble child, you’re here.”

“Hi Mr. Aizawa.” You roll your eyes. “When are you going to stop calling me that, it’s getting old.”

“When you stop getting into trouble.”

“Okay, that’s fair.”

“The kid’s almost ready.” He snorts. “About damn time. Been up since six.”

“He has?” Your eyes widen. “For what?”

Your teacher smirks. “Nerves. Isn’t this his, what, tenth time taking you out though?”

A flustered Hitoshi suddenly appears from behind him with a light pink dusting his cheeks and steers Aizawa back to the door. “O-okay dad that’s enough.” 

He’s cutely dressed in a soft-looking grey cardigan over a white shirt and black wide-legged pants. 

This had to be the most boyfriend he’s looked, ever, and he looked very boyfriend all of the time. 

“Hitoshi?” You do a little twirl for him in your own outfit. “Fire or nah?”

He looks up from his phone, where he’s googling the bus route to the aquarium, except his eyes linger. Without skipping a beat, he responds.

 “Fire.”

“Toshi, you’re staring.”

“Of course I’m staring.” He says it with a tone like 'what else would I be doing?'

You shyly fidget with the edge of your shorts. “Why?”

“Because you’re beautiful.”

Hitoshi reaches out a hand, like he hasn't just casually left you breathless, and his own eyes soften as he notices your starry-eyed look. 

“Let’s go, you crybaby.”

“Damn. I was going to say you look handsome too, but I don’t remember being the one who sobbed my eyes out watching Your Name last night.”

The tips of his ears turn red.

“Shut up.”

“Was like our fifth rewatch too.”

“Shut up before I kiss you.”

"Is that a threat or a promise?"

"Both."

‧₊˚ 🐚 ✩ ₊˚ 🌊 ⊹ 𓇼

Hitoshi’s lips twitch as he sees your eyes light up at the sight of the sign pointing in the jellyfish exhibit’s direction. “You’re adorable.”

“Thanks.” You grin. “You’re slow.”

You take him by the arm, your brain faintly registering how muscular his bicep is despite holding it so many times, and drag him along. 

In their tanks, the glow of the moon jellies fills the darkness in front of them as other visitors murmur around you two in awe. Blue light reflects off the water and through the glass, illuminating your boyfriend’s dreamy features and you can’t help but admire how pretty he looks.

Hitoshi turns from watching the jellyfish to face you, fingers now lacing through yours. You don’t look away. 

A soft smile flickers across his face when he catches you staring at him.

“This reminds me of when we first met.”

You smile. You remember. He was the one Mina relentlessly teased you for staring at, which you completely denied at the time.

“Why’re you so thirsty?” You remember her whispering into your ear at the Sports Festival in your first year. The both of you were sitting in your class’s designated spots in the stands.

Your eyes had widened, scandalized. 

“I am not!”

“Please. You’re totally staring at him.”

“Who?”

“Shinsou Hitoshi.” She grinned. “Cute, right?”

Of course she paid attention when they announced his name specifically. 

You could never remember anyone’s, and she probably saw you looking at his picture for a little too long when it appeared on the Jumbotron’s screen, announcing that his match with Oijiro was about to begin. 

“Not really,” you lied, a bad attempt at feigning disinterest. 

Like your eyes hadn’t been trailing down his lean figure the moment his next match started. 

Or noticing how attractive it was the way he casually folded his arms when he taunted Midoriya, or wondering in your mind if his perpetual bed-head was as soft as it looks. 

Mina turned to you, smirking at your slightly dazed expression.

“Really? Then you wouldn’t mind if I told him you had some questions about his quirk and wanted to talk about it after this, riiight?”

“What?” You shake your head furiously. “I mean his quirk is really interesting but–ugh Mina, no!” 

“For the plot!” She waggled her eyebrows.

You nudged her knee with a huff. “I’m breaking up with you.”

“Nooo, I’m kidding, I’m kidding.” Mina eyed you cheekily. “I won’t call him over.”

“Oh thank god.”

“But only if you admit he’s your type.”

You groan. “Okay fine. I think he’s hot, happy?”

“Very.” Your best friend laughs, pure happiness indeed written all over her face. You can see the matchmaking gears already turning in her head. “I just know you too well, babe.”

You roll your eyes. “Sometimes I really wish you didn’t.”

“Come on, you guys would be so cute together though.” She sighs dreamily. “Forensic sight and mind-control? Plus you’re both hot as fuck? Talk about a power couple.”

“....I think I’m going to go sit with Yaomomo instead.”

Recalling the memory, you laugh. “I know, we kept accidentally making eye contact after your second match because our seats were right across from each other.”

“That awkward prolonged eye contact in the stands might’ve been how I started crushing on you.”

You smirk. “You had a crush on me? That's so embarrassing.”

“I know.” He rolls his eyes, softly tucking a stray hair behind your ear. “Worst decision of my life.”

You hold Hitoshi’s hand tighter as you step closer to his side to get a better view of the tank. 

“Glad the feeling is mutual.” 

You spot it before he does.

“Oh my god Toshi. We need to get this for Eri.”

He spins around from the collection of the aquarium’s official shirts for sale, a shirt with a print of a whale shark in his hands. 

“Wha–oh my god.”

Hitoshi stares at the giant penguin plushie you’re holding in front of you. 

It was bigger than you–no, bigger than him even.

“Not sure if it’s going to fit on the train home, but we’ll make it work.”

   ───────── 

"Can you teach me how to draw a unicorn too, Eri?" Hitoshi asks.

You had already asked Eri before him seconds ago so you stick your tongue out at Hitoshi, mouthing ‘copycat,’ and he tilts his head down to quickly kiss your neck, making you giggle. 

He still has a pink bow wrapped around his bicep from when you three played dress up an hour ago, and you fight the urge to laugh again at how silly he looks.

Eri is too focused on her drawings to care about either of you, and after she scribbles around a little more, she turns to face her older brother.

“Yeah!” She hands him a red crayon. “Okay, so first you draw half of a circle.”

Hitoshi follows Eri’s instructions.

He lifts his hand, which nearly covers the paper, to reveal a red ‘C’ that looks like it got run over by a truck.

“No, no not like that! Erase it.” She frowns disapprovingly, hands on her hips. “You’re really bad at this Hito-nii.”

“Please Eri-sensei. I'm trying my best.”

“Try harder!” She turns away with a huff, then peers over at your paper. 

“Ooh yours looks so good!” Eri claps, and you smile proudly. 

“It’s all thanks to you, Eri.” You reach out to fix her pigtail that was starting to slip out of the cat-patterned scrunchie, and she giggles, holding still for you. 

Hitoshi grumbles. “This smells like favoritism.”

“That’s ‘cause your unicorn looks Celery’s poop!” Eri chirps. Then she runs away to the kitchen right before you double over in laughter at Hitoshi’s extremely offended face, clutching onto his broad shoulders for support. 

“She said your drawing looks like shit!” You snort, and he groans.

Celery’s ears perk up in Hitoshi’s lap and she meows, looking in your direction. You hold out your arms. “Celery, you want uppies?”

She ignores them and decides to sit in your lap instead, purring softly.

“Mrow.”

“Yeah? And then what?” You coo, gently rubbing her fuzzy forehead, and her eyes close in contentment.

She mewls again, pawing at your sock and you laugh.

“Okay, okay I’ll tell him.” 

Looking up at Hitoshi, he tilts his head the same way Celery does when you talk to her. 

You bite back a laugh, you’re not sure who’s the cat in the room at this point.

“What did she say?” He asks you curiously.

All you do is blink slowly at him in response.

Hitoshi’s brows knit in confusion.

Then his eyes widen, a soft pink starting to color his cheeks.

Shyly, he slowly blinks back.

Suddenly, the gray-haired girl comes back from the kitchen, apples Aizawa sliced like rabbits for her on a plate in her hands. 

You’re still slowly blinking at each other as she walks through the door.

Eri looks at the both of you weirdly.

“What are you two doing?”

“Mrow.”

teehee hitoshi’s the pb to ur jelly(fish) get it

[enhasparadise]

LOVE PARADISE. ˒˒ ﹙ enhypen ! ﹚

╰┈⪼ in which you suddenly ask your boyfriend if he loves you to see his reaction

pairing ‎⸝⸝⸝ enha member x girlfriend!reader 𓄷 iηcℓudᥱs 𓈓 none!

genre﹙💬﹚⸝⸝⸝ scenerios/headcannons, soft, fluff

warnings ‎⸝⸝⸝ enhypen member being a wimp for their girl, really cute reaction from the member, use of petnames (sweetheart, kitten, sweetie, darling..), jay doing a proposal to the reader (that’s not a real proposal), niki teasing the reader (kinda funny to write actually), really dramatic Jake, kisses and cuddles.

wc ‎⸝⸝⸝ 3788 words

rain’s note ‎⸝⸝⸝ im in love with the idea of this scenario and I hope that you loved reading all of them ! (jay, Jake and niki being my favorite 🤭) hope to see you for my next post, currently working on "TOKYO ON EDGE" first chapter !!

all feedback and reblogs are welcome! ♡

𓏲 𖧷ˊ HEESEUNG

heeseung had just come back from a long day of training and the only thing he wanted was to be in your arms so he could reunite with his girlfriend.

he simply almost froze when he didn't see that you weren't sitting on the sofa like he was used to finding you like at the end of all his days. this simple change in his habits starting to worry him before he heard a noise coming from the kitchen, and a smile appeared on his lips even though he had seen you cooking.

quickly his arms were around your waist as he placed a soft kiss on your cheeks, but before he even said a single word you had cut him off.

“hee, do you love me?” you asked him and he stood looking at you for a few seconds without understanding why you had just asked that question.

he thought that showing you his love every day was enough to prove the love he had for you, but upon hearing your question he quickly understood that maybe that wasn't the case.

“wait are you seriously asking the question sweetheart?” he ended up saying almost as if he had just found his voice and his arms quickly disappeared from around your waist before Heeseung ended up completely disappearing from the kitchen, leaving you alone wondering what he could do.

but he returned a few minutes later with his phone in one hand, and his bag in the other, which he placed on the kitchen table. “Look at me quickly, sweetheart, please..” he asked before seeing you turn around and a smile appeared on his lips.

he then gave you his phone directly. “look at the wallpaper” and he had barely finished his sentence when you quickly noticed that his wallpaper was nothing other than a photo of the two of you that he had taken during a of your appointments. “my password is your date of birth” he added almost immediately before looking inside his bag.

he searched for a few seconds before taking out a small stuffed animal that you had given him on your birthday a month ago, that he had kept with him ever since and that he had with him all the time since he never left his bag.

then he came closer to you simply to show you one of his necklaces with your initials engraved on it, which he had never taken off without forgetting this ring that you had both worn since the start of your relationship.

"I think you must be kidding me for asking a question like that when almost all I have with me are things that remind me of you. im obsessed with you baby."

following which, you were treated to an avalanche of kisses from your boyfriend to once again prove his love which quickly made you laugh.

“i know heeseung, it was just to see what you were going to say..” you had time to say before his lips pressed against yours.

𓏲 𖧷ˊ JAY

you didn't even have the need to ask the question that strangely Jay had already seen this moment coming and so, throughout the day he had been expecting it, but deep down he was prepared. maybe even a little too prepared in fact.

you were both walking in the middle of the night, admiring the stars while the streets were far too quiet, and without knowing why, this question had come to your mind and obviously, you couldn't not ask it and you then turned to face Jay, who was already looking at you as if he had already understood.

"Jay.." you started innocently trying to coax your boyfriend into the future question you were going to ask him.

"yes darling?" he answered you, and this simple nickname made your heart beat faster and your cheeks turned pink, almost forgetting your question but you eventually came to your senses. "do you love me ?"

a soft laugh left your boyfriend's lips upon hearing your question and he knew perfectly well that your question was asked simply to see his response and reaction. he spent several seconds admiring you, his smile growing as he took in your beauty and his hand took yours, his gaze finally settling on your fingers noticing that you almost never wore rings.

his gaze ended up returning to your face, seeing perfectly well that you were waiting for some kind of response from him, he took the time to make you wait and his gaze went back down to your hand.

"what do you say about a darling ring?" he ended up asking you after three minutes without any response and his gaze returned to you.

hearing his sentence you couldn't really understand what he meant and after a few seconds you seemed to realize what he had just said and didn't even know what to say.

"Jay..?" you asked as you looked straight into his eyes and again a smile appeared on his lips, noticing that his sentence had disturbed you slightly and although you only thought it was a joke he ended up feeling a small black box which you were sure contained a ring.

your gaze was fixed on him, unable to know how he was feeling right before your gaze fell on that small box that was in your boyfriend's hands.

although he didn't position himself as a real marriage proposal you let out a little laugh of excitement imagining it as a proposal, and he knew that with this kind of action he was going to make you happy. when he opened the box and you finally saw the appearance of the ring, which was classic but at the same time with this very atypical appearance a smile appeared on your lips and a few seconds later the ring had ended up around one of your fingers and a smile also appeared on Jay's lips.

"Is that enough to prove that I love you darling?" he asked you even though he knew perfectly well that he had almost made you a real marriage proposal and that this simple detail had allowed a smile to remain on your lips.

"It's beautiful Jay..." you replied, looking at the ring now around your finger before your gaze rested on him and you almost immediately jumped into his arms.

a laugh left his lips before he placed a soft and tender kiss on your lips, holding you against him.

𓏲 𖧷ˊ JAKE

"so my girlfriend really doesn't listen to me when I spend hours talking about her when I'm alone with her.." Jake said, realizing the question you had just asked him while he dramatized the whole thing. situation.

"What do you mean? Jake, I've never heard you talk about me.." you replied, slightly confused about what he had just said.

"oh my god this is not possible.." he began as he knelt on the ground, dramatizing the situation even more. "my girlfriend never really listens to me... what have I done to deserve this.."

a slight nervous laugh left your lips while your boyfriend was still overreacting. your gaze fixed on your boyfriend who was now completely lying on the ground as he slowly began to pretend to cry.

realizing that he wouldn't stop until a few minutes later, you took a seat on the couch and turned on the television, knowing that Jake would soon be his old self again.

"And on top of that I have a girlfriend who doesn't care how I feel right now... I don't understand what I could have done wrong to deserve all this ignorance when I'm the best boyfriend ever.." he continued to complain while you still didn't seem to react to his way of being.

and as you had finally imagined, Jake finally stood up and came to stand beside you, his head resting against your shoulder as he took your hand in his.

"sweetheart.. I spend so much time telling you how wonderful you are that I really wonder if you really listen to me and if you even pay attention to me.." he said almost immediately before slightly turn his head to look at you. "sweetheart.. it's such a stupid question that you asked me every day I leave you post-its on the living room table before I leave so that you have a love message when you wake up in the morning and to go to university... do you realize that every day I find new ways to prove my love to you?"

"Jake.." he started, realizing that if you didn't cut him off he was going to continue for hours and hours. "I know very well that you give me little speeches at the end of the day to tell me how much you are in love, you don't need to react like that... even if it's really funny and adorable to see you react so this way.."

after which he simply raised his head, his drama queen acting disappearing completely while a smile tenderly appeared on his lips and he quickly placed his lips against yours.

"I love you little monster.." he whispered against your lips while smiling.

"I love you too jakey.." you whispered against his lips.

𓏲 𖧷ˊ SUNGHOON

"do you love me Sunghoon?"

when Sunghoon had heard your question, his gaze landed directly on you as he held your hands and gently walked you across the ice with your ice skates on your feet.

"do you really think that's a question to ask while we're on a date at the ice rink, sweetie?" he asked as he directly noticed that look of distress when you understood what he was implying.

"I forbid you from letting go of me Sunghoon you know perfectly well that I won't hold on if you don't hold my hand.." you finally said, begging him with your eyes that he doesn't let go of you.

but, almost as if he had no reason not to listen to you, he let go of your right hand, and you directly felt a slight imbalance on the ice as you looked at Sunghoon again, hoping that he wouldn't Don't let go of your left hand.

and yet, that's exactly what he had done before he disappeared from your field of vision and you felt slightly panicked at the idea of ​​being without Sunghoon on the ice when you barely knew how to stand on your own. without you ending up falling.

then, as you felt ready to fall on your butt on the ice, you felt an arm slide along your waist before a laugh was heard to your left. and you knew this laugh perfectly since it was that of your boyfriend, and he had allowed himself to place a soft kiss on your lips before holding you so that you did not fall and just after starting to skate in making sure you were comfortable with the speed he had, and inevitably he ended up whispering in your ear.

"you shouldn't ask me that kind of question when we're in a territory where you're not comfortable sweetie.." he started as he continued on his way with you in your arms, making sure that your meeting at the ice rink is pleasant and does not spoil the moment. "then if you need an answer of course I love you, otherwise we wouldn't spend so much time going on dates just the two of us and, above all, I would never be so worried when you're on ice cream if I didn't like you then next time think about asking a little less stupid questions."

"Yes Sunghoon I understand and I know you love me I'm not stupid.." you replied and you noticed a second time that Sunghoon had finally let go of your waist making you panic slightly before he returns to its initial position when you want to meet at the ice rink, that is to say in front of you, ensuring that where you were moving forward.

but this time, as he took your hands in his he pulled himself against him, and quickly placed a kiss on your lips, a smile forming on his lips.

"now if you want we can resume the romantic aspect of our romantic date.." he told you, although he knew that meeting up here was not particularly romantic, but as long as you were with each other you considered it romantic.

𓏲 𖧷ˊ SUNOO

You and Sunoo were in the middle of a movie, in each other's arms while a blanket covered your bodies so you wouldn't get cold. a bowl of popcorn was on your boyfriend's legs as you snuggled up to him, using any excuse to be close to him.

everything was truly perfect, Sunoo had an arm around your waist to hold you against him while you both completely focused on the movie, only the sound effects of the movie being audible in the room as you enjoyed a real little nice romantic evening since you didn't do it as often as you would like.

but quickly your mind was bothered by a question that refused to go away until you felt compelled to ask it. and after ten minutes of fighting with your mind not to have to ask the question your gaze quickly came to Sunoo who was still completely focused on the movie, and a small smile appeared on the corner of your lips.

"Sunoo.. do you love me?"

hearing your question his heart skipped a beat just before his gaze left the television to land on you, and he observed your cute face and that beautiful smile before simply coming to kiss you, almost as if he didn't didn't want to answer the question but right after he whispered against your lips.

"it would be stupid not to love such a beautiful and incredible girl like you sweetie, so of course I love you. and I love you even more than you can imagine in your head."

then he focused back on the movie as if nothing had happened as your cheeks turned red at the confession he had just made to you, your head returning to rest on his shoulder as you focused back on the movie.

"then you are so magnificent that it would be a shame not to be able to tell the other members of the group that you are already taken just to see their faces when they find out.. I am very happy to have you by my side for let you go and I intend to make sure that you stay by my side as long as possible, hopefully for the rest of my life."

your cheeks had become a little redder when you heard him continue his little confession and simply because he seemed to be going into a very complete monologue you were obliged to come and silence him by placing his lips against yours before a small smile fakes between the two of you.

"I understand Sunoo.. and I love you just as much you know.." you ended up saying while taking his hand in yours and you finally continued watching the film while being in each other's arms.

𓏲 𖧷ˊ JUNGWON

Jungwon had his own ways of showing you how much he loved you, so obviously asking him the question meant having to listen to a monologue from him about the many gestures he did just for you to prove his love. but even that didn't stop you from asking him the question anyway.

putting your phone away when you arrived in front of him, you displayed the most beautiful smile of yours just before realizing that he was unfortunately focused on the screen of his phone and therefore that he did not see you. but that also meant you could ask him so you sat next to him, pretending to be curious about what he was doing on his phone by resting your head on his shoulder.

"Jungwonie.. do you love me?" you asked and only two seconds later his phone screen had gone black as he moved slightly so he could look at you fully.

his hands had slid down your cheeks as he looked at you for a few seconds, and just by seeing his look you could imagine that your question had somehow disturbed him.

"Are you sure you're okay sweetheart? You know perfectly well that I love you with everything I do for you.." he began to explain.

and while he seemed to have gone into a monologue about all the things he loved about you, his right hand came to rest on your forehead to check that you weren't sick and that you didn't have a fever but absolutely no signs of illness.

so he looked at you without really understanding your question since you weren't sick, but, even with the confusion he was still monologueing about everything he did for you.

then suddenly, you noticed that he had gotten up leaving him alone in the living room while you didn't even know where he could go since you were also in the living room.

"Jungwon where are you going?" you had asked but absolutely no answer had been heard and you began to wonder if asking him this question was the right thing to do even if it was still for fun, and simply to know the reaction he was going to have.

a few minutes later, you saw your boyfriend come into the living room again, this time with a box in his hands which he placed in front of you. "I'll let you look inside and you'll understand for yourself that yes, I am madly in love with you, sweetheart."

your hands had gripped the box, curious to know what was inside and as soon as you opened it you discovered many letters all containing Jungwon's writing and, reading the contents of one you understood that They were love letters that he had taken the time to write himself simply for you, and you felt your heart warm just by reading them.

but your surprise didn't stop there because apart from the love letters, the box that jungwon had given you was filled with all kinds of things that you had given him, little notes that you had written to him yourself or even tickets to a concert you both went to. there were also many little red paper hearts, and noticing the effort Jungwon had put in just for that you understood.

he was very much in love with you, and he was certainly the most adorable boyfriend you could have ever had so inevitably, when the box was closed and put aside for his safety you found yourself directly in Jungwon's arms, t having fun then placing numerous kisses on his cheeks or his lips.

so much so that he started laughing when he saw the reaction you had with this little box which certainly contained far too large a dose of love just for you.

"you're adorable Jungwon!!" you said with the most beautiful smile on your lips.

"I imagine that you have understood that I am very much in love with you.." he replied with a laugh before taking you in his arms, and following this action a cuddling session had started.

𓏲 𖧷ˊ NIKI

"niki do you love me?"

no sooner had the question left your mouth than he looked up from his phone to look at you, knowing it was a stupid question you had just asked.

"No." he replied almost instantly with a rather disturbing sincerity.

and as soon as you heard his answer, which of course you absolutely didn't appreciate, you came to his side, taking his phone in his hands to put it next to him, forcing him to look at you, something he had done.

"sorry? you don't love me?" you asked a second time to make sure you heard the answer your boyfriend had just told you.

and, bringing his face closer to yours, almost as if he was about to kiss you, Niki looked at you, keeping a serious look as he repeated that same word a second time. "No."

it didn't take much for you to quickly leave his room, showing both your annoyance and your annoyance at the answer he had given you, but instead of reassuring you he let out a slight laugh, amused of your reaction.

and for the rest of the day you found yourself wanting to avoid him after the answer he had given you, not expecting Niki to answer "no" in that way which had annoyed you but also frustrated because, if this was the only moment where Niki had a good chance of saying yes, it was on this type of question.

of course, Niki, seeing your reaction, he couldn't help but remain in his role as a mean friend who had answered no to your question, and he obviously enjoyed annoying you no matter what he could say to you or do. after all, Niki found any excuse to act like a child when he could, and your question being stupid he was going to act even more stupid for the rest of the day.

it was only in the evening, when you were both under the covers that he slipped his arm around your waist to pull you back against him, knowing full well that you wanted to show him your displeasure but it wasn't working.

he placed a kiss on your cheek before whispering in your ear "you should have asked me how much I loved you instead.. the answer would have been easier and it would have saved you from scolding me all day kitten.."

but no response from you, you just remained silent not wanting in any way to show that you were about to just turn to face him.

"kitten... ask me the question, I promise you will get a positive answer" he whispered in your ear again as he placed a kiss on your cheek again.

"okay.." you finally responded, knowing perfectly well that niki wasn't going to leave you alone until you spoke. "How much do you love me Niki?"

"Really bad kitten... really like crazy"

and this simple answer made you blush almost immediately while a smile appeared on your lips.

"your question this morning was stupid... so obviously my answer was going to be just as stupid"

after which he just left many kisses on your cheeks just to tease you.

"I'm in love with you like crazy and I'm a little more in love with you every day so never doubt that sweetheart.."

thanks you for reading all of this it’s really sweet ! hope that you liked each of the members scenarios and that you enjoyed reading !

anyways loves you, see you soon !! 💗

[syluslnd]

HIII

COULD U PLS DO A FIC WITH A MOTHERLY READER WHO IS REALLY CARING AND KIND FOR SYLUS PLSSS.

i imagine she’s always looking out for him, Mephisto as well as the twins.

THANK UUUUUU

when your motherly instincts kick in

The front door opened quietly but you could feel him before you saw him. Sylus always tried to be subtle, but even his steps had a certain weight to them—like he was carrying the world on his shoulders but wouldn’t let anyone see it. You turned around just in time to catch his eyes, sharp but softened as soon as they met yours.

“Welcome home” you greeted with a warm smile, already moving toward him.

“Hey sweetie” Sylus’s voice was as deep and steady as ever but there was a hint of tension in his shoulders that you couldn’t ignore.

You took in the way he was standing, just a little too stiff, a little too careful and your brow furrowed. He was trying so hard to look unaffected but you knew him better than that.

Without saying a word, you reached out and poked him gently in the side. He winced, barely noticeable but you caught it. You narrowed your eyes, folding your arms in that motherly way he always teased you for.

“Gotcha!” you said with a knowing smile. “and don’t even try to say it’s nothing.”

Sylus sighed, trying to look away but you tilted his chin back toward you, your voice soft but firm. “Don’t think you can hide when you’re hurt, Sylus. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It’s nothing, really.” His attempt at reassurance fell flat when he shifted and another flash of pain crossed his face.

You huffed, rolling your eyes. “Nothing, huh?” You took his hand and gently led him to the couch, easing him down as if he were fragile, even though you both knew he was far from it. But it didn’t matter to you—right now, he was hurt and that was all it took to bring out your full motherly instincts.

“Sit still” you instructed, disappearing for a moment to grab the first-aid kit. When you returned, he looked up, watching you with that mix of amusement and exasperation you loved so much. He knew there was no use arguing with you when you got into this mode.

Carefully, you kneeled beside him, setting to work on cleaning and bandaging his wounds. Sylus flinched at your touch once or twice but he tried to keep still, his eyes never leaving yours as you worked.

“kitten..you’re too good to me, you know” he murmured, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Maybe”you replied, meeting his gaze, “but that doesn’t mean you get a free pass to keep things from me. Next time, tell me when you’re hurt. I don’t want you pushing through things alone.”

Sylus let out a soft chuckle, a sound that melted into the air like warmth. “Alright, alright. I promise.” The promise felt real, genuine, and he reached up, giving your hand a gentle squeeze in thanks.

You were just finishing up with the last bandage when you heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps—two pairs, unmistakably familiar. You turned just as Luke and Kieran entered the room, looking a little worse for wear themselves, like they’d had a rough day of training.

“And where have you two been?” you asked, narrowing your eyes at them in the same way you’d done with Sylus. Both twins stopped dead in their tracks, trading sheepish glances.

“Uh… training?” Kieran offered, scratching the back of his neck, clearly trying to look innocent.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought” you replied, hands on your hips. “I told you all to take it easy and look after yourselves. Do you want to end up hurt like Sylus?”

They shifted, looking apologetic but they couldn’t hide their amusement as you gave them your best scolding look.

Sylus, meanwhile, was grinning, clearly enjoying the show. “I think you’re adorable when you get all angry” he said softly, just loud enough for the twins to hear.

They both stifled laughs, but you caught their giggles. “Laugh it up, boys” you teased, trying to keep your stern tone but failing as a smile broke through. “But seriously, all of you—take care of yourselves. I don’t want to keep patching you up every time you walk through that door.”

The three of them nodded but their smiles betrayed them, showing just how much they adored you in that moment and maybe, you thought, as you took one last glance at each of them, maybe they’d actually start listening—if only so they could see that look of worry fade from your face.

But for now, you were just glad they were all home, safe and that you could care for them in the way only you knew how.

[blaire-apricity]

Ransom and Chocolate Cakes

sʏʟᴜs x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᯓ❅ ┆ synopsis┆ : POV: You decided to kidnap a certain mechanical crow

ᯓ❅ ┆ tags┆ : short fiction, soft, fluff & possible OOC

ᯓ❅ ┆ credits & prompt┆ : original author & original post

──────────────── ˗ˏˋ ❅｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽ ˎˊ˗ ────────────────

It was just an ordinary day for Sylus—at least, for him. He sat propped against the headboard of his bed, one hand holding a book while the other adjusted his glasses. The manor was eerily quiet, with neither the twins nor his mechanical bird in sight, though he found the silence liberating. It was a rare break from the usual noise that filled the halls.

The soft buzz of his phone disrupted the stillness. Without much thought, he reached for it from the bedside table, glancing at the caller ID. A small smirk tugged at his lips when he saw who it was.

Before he could say anything, her voice broke through—pouty, with an unmistakable air of mischief but no real threat behind it. “I’ve kidnapped Mephisto,” she announced, sounding almost rehearsed.

A raspy chuckle escaped him, more of a scoff than a laugh. "Is there a reason you’ve kidnapped Mephisto, sweetie?" he asked, closing his book and placing it in his lap, now fully invested in the conversation.

“I demand a ransom,” she replied, her voice slightly muffled, as if she were cuddling something soft—a pillow or a plushie, he imagined. “Chocolate cake and snuggles. If you want him back unharmed, you’d better come over soon.”

Sylus shook his head, already piecing together the cause of her sudden demands. With a swipe on his phone, he checked the calendar before returning it to his ear. “Did your period start today?” he asked knowingly.

There was a pause. “… No,” she finally replied, but the delay and tone gave her away and it only made Sylus smile wider, totally unconvinced.

He chuckled again, entertained by her antics. “Alright, I’ll be right over. Just make sure Mephisto stays alive for me, sweetie.”

“Okay,” she answered, her voice followed by a quick shuffling sound as if she stood up to check on something. “Mephisto’s fine. He’s eating popcorn and watching Hallmark Christmas movies with me.”

Sylus hummed in amusement. There was another moment of quiet before she spoke up again, her voice carrying a hint of uncertainty. “Can mechanical crows even eat? Is he allowed to have popcorn?”

A smirk touched his lips. “Not exactly.”

“Oh… shoot,” she muttered under her breath, likely glancing worriedly at the bird now pecking at the popcorn she’d made.

“Don’t worry, it won’t hurt him. I’ll be there in twenty minutes, and I’ll bring every type of chocolate cake you can dream of,” Sylus reassured, standing up, preparing to leave and rescue his mechanical crow from the whims of his mischievous kitten.

“…Okay...” she trailed off, her voice softer, almost hesitant, and it made him pause. He waited, knowing she wasn’t done. After a few seconds, she added, “…Can you also rub my tummy? Your hands make a good heating pad.”

Her tone was almost sheepish, and Sylus couldn’t help but smile to himself. “Yes, sweetie. I’ll rub your stomach—and anything else you need. See you soon."

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╰｡ Author's Note: Before anyone lunges at me, I've gotten permission from the author themselves, giving me a go signal to create an inspired piece of their original prompt. •`ヮ´• So I went ahead and did one! Credits are above, both their Tumblr link and the post they wonderfully created! Thank you once again, @missaengg! ( •̯́ ₃ •̯̀)

Yes, I know I've stated it a while ago, I had a sudden burst of motivation and I finished it within 3 hours and in one sitting- HAHA

[acciotaitlynn]

╭──────────.★..─╮ Immobilized ╰─..★.──────────╯

⤷ sylusxfem!reader

⤷ 18+ sexual content. sylus ended up pretty soft. claiming/marking. kitten/sweetie/pet/a random baby bc it just felt right. fingering. vaginal sex. u kno he's cummin inside. based off sylus's immobilized card.

⤷ 3,058 words

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“Shh. Don’t move,” Sylus whispered with a smirk, holding a finger to his lips.

You took deep breaths, trying to quell the anxiety rising within you as your coworkers chatter filtered through the closet door. You were supposed to be enjoying the vast, icy expanse of the Arctic—not hiding in a closet with Sylus.

His claim of being here on vacation was flimsy at best, but it was clear he wasn’t going to share the real reason for his presence. You’d managed to keep him hidden from your team until now, but bringing him along to grab your things from the hotel room turned out to be a huge mistake.

When you heard the front door swing open, accompanied by the sound of cheerful voices, you instinctively pulled Sylus into the closet without a second thought. Now, you could see that too had been a mistake—having Sylus so close was unnerving, and your heart pounded so fiercely in your chest that you were certain he could hear it.

And to complicate matters further, the evol linkage binding the two of you had reappeared, and somehow you had inadvertently caused the distance between you to shrink. The cuffs barely allowed for a hand’s length between you now.

You weren’t sure if your current anxiety stemmed more from the situation outside the door or the proximity to Sylus. It was beginning to seem like the latter, especially as his deep, teasing voice murmured in your ear, “Just pretend you're a coat that doesn’t breathe or have a heartbeat. It should be easy.”

You narrowed your eyes at him and shoved his stomach hard. The feel of his abs beneath his thin sweater set your palms on fire.

He pressed you against the wall, chuckling as his fingers entwined with yours. “We've been stuck in here for a while now, kitten. I’m getting bored,” he said. You must have been playing a convincing coat, given that breath seemed to elude you entirely.

“Why don’t we play a little game?” Sylus drawled. You glared at him, pushing him harder this time, but it was futile; his grip only tightened. “You know, the more a snake’s prey tries to escape, the tighter it gets strangled,” he taunted.

You tried to keep your voice steady as you met his gaze. “Get off me Sylus. I’m not interested in playing games with you.” You hoped your voice didn’t betray your emotions.

“Well, it’s a good thing I wasn’t really asking then, isn’t it?” he murmured, his breath ghosting down your neck, his lips nearly brushing your skin. “The rules are simple—if a single sound other than your words slips past those pretty lips—you lose.”

You knew that whatever Sylus planned to do to elicit those sounds from you would likely undo you completely, but you couldn’t stop yourself from replying; “Why are you assuming I’ll be the one to lose?"

His light chuckle sent goosebumps skittering across your skin. “Fair enough. Well then, sweetie—whoever wins gets to demand anything they wish of the loser,” he countered.

You didn’t like the sound of that one bit, yet you had to admit that you were growing bored too. Plus, the temptation to be even closer to the crimson-eyed man in front of you was irresistible.

Summoning your bravest facade, you looked him in the eye. “Well, are you going to get started?” you dared. You expected a witty retort, but none came. Instead, an undefinable emotion flickered in Sylus's eyes before his lips crashed onto yours.

The kiss was seering, almost intimate, and you couldn’t help but wonder if you were misreading it—after all, Sylus couldn't stand you. By now, you knew the passion behind his kiss was likely another one of his mind games. Even so, you found yourself arching into him, your tongue delving into his mouth to savor him completely.

The moment Sylus felt you kiss him back, his entire body tensed, as if he genuinely hadn’t expected you to respond to his touch. His hands released yours, cradling your face while his tongue danced with yours until you were breathless and delightfully lightheaded.

“Such a quiet little kitten,” he drawled. “It seems it will take more to make my new pet sing on command.” His words irked you, yet all you could do was look at him through hooded eyes, trying to catch your breath and anticipate his next move. He gently pushed your hair over your shoulder, trailing soft kisses along your neck.

Sylus was intoxicated by the way your eyes fluttered closed, your lips parting for a silent word. Was he just imagining it, or had you just mouthed his name?

“You know, animals are often tagged by their owners, to assert dominance and lay claim… I think I’ll put a little claim of my own on you, pet—right here where I’ll place your pretty little collar,” he murmured, his fingers lightly grazing your neck.

His possessive words sent a heated rush to your core, almost unbearably so, but you met his glare with a fierce gaze and replied in a low, viscous tone, “I will never belong to you Sylus. So you can discard that daydream.’ He just chuckled softly, then his lips were on you again, teeth, tongue, and lips working in harmony.

You wanted to fight him, to shove him away again—his possessive attitude and cockiness always got under your skin, and today it was even worse. Yet, despite your intentions, your eyes rolled back as you struggled to stay silent—a task growing increasingly difficult.

Sylus didn’t stop with just one mark. Once he saw that first bruise bloom on your skin, he was completely addicted. Your shirt was discarded roughly before you could even protest. He left marks everywhere, his mouth growing harsher as he sought to make each bruise darker, to linger on your skin longer.

Lust tinged your voice as you dreamily suggested, “I think it’s only fair that I get to mark you, too.”

You tried convincing yourself that you said it as a ploy to beat him at his own game. But deep down, you knew the idea of claiming him, even in a small way, was something you inexplicably craved, and that was what truly fueled your words.

This time, Sylus allowed you to push him away. “Sit,” you commanded, pointing to the floor with a tone designed to irritate him. You were rewarded when his brows arched, and his lips formed a frown. “Are you ordering me around?” he asked moodily. “Yes, you’re a freaking tree, Sylus, and I don’t plan on climbing you today, so sit down.”

Though the thought of climbing him wasn’t entirely unappealing...

Sylus shook his head, grinning as he settled down and stretched his long legs out on the floor. Before you could second guess yourself, you straddled his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck and savoring the surprise on his face.

You decided to push further, sitting down on his fully erect cock. Sylus gritted his teeth as his head fell back and his eyes rolled shut. “Damn, kitten. You almost got me with that one... I didn’t think you could play so dirty.” You weren’t going to admit it, but you’d nearly lost your own composure when you felt his thick length press against your clothed pussy.

You pulled his shirt over his head, unable to resist tracing your fingers over the ridges of his abs, relishing the way they tensed under your touch. It felt as though you had discovered the world's most intoxicating drug in the texture in the texture of Sylus's skin. Your fingers explored every part of him that you could reach, rising higher and higher until your mind was consumed by him.

Sylus trembled slightly under your touch, his mesmerizing eyes tracking your every movement, unable to look away from the lust-filled awe in your gaze.

Awe? For him? It didn’t make sense—surely, if you felt any of the emotions currently swirling in your eyes for him, you would be able to resonate with him easily.

Sylus had never expected you to agree to this little game. In fact, he had intended it as a joke, a way to irritate you and stave off his boredom.

Well, his boredom had vanished, but now he worried about his ability to outlast you in this game. Every time you touched him or when his cock ground against you as you moved, or when you looked at him as though you couldn’t believe your luck that he was beneath you, Sylus had to suppress the sounds that threatened to escape his lips.

This was unraveling him just as much as it was unraveling you.

“Hmm, now where to put it,” you mused, making a show of surveying his skin before settling on a spot next to his collarbone. Your voice softened as you said, “This one is perfect.” His large hands gripped your thighs tightly as your lips pressed against your chosen spot.

The marks blossoming on his skin seemed to affect you just as deeply as they did him. Your hand tangled in his hair, tilting his neck to the side to leave your mark there as well.

Pulling back, you surveyed your handiwork, eyes catching on his perked nipple. You brushed your thumb over it, biting back a groan as you felt the the softness against your fingertip. You vaguely questioned what the heck you were thinking as you sucked the pink bud into your mouth, nibbling gently before soothing it with your tongue.

“Fuck. I think you just crossed the line into unfair territory, sweetie,” Sylus groaned through gritted teeth, his grip on you tightening almost to the point of pain. You reached around and unhooked your bra, revealing your breasts to him. “Well, we’ll just have to make it fair then, won’t we?”

Sylus’s eyes hungrily devoured the sight of you, flicking from your chest to your face as if trying to memorize every detail. His expression was one of disbelief as he sat motionless, the only movement coming from his chest as his breaths quickened.

Sylus initially thought it had to be one of your jokes, but he quickly realized it wasn’t when you arched your breast towards his mouth, whispering, “please, Sylus.”

A deep groan escaped him, uncontrollable as he heard your plea, and he couldn’t stop himself from taking you into his mouth. The notion of losing mattered little to him—not when your soft skin was between his teeth and your hands were fisting in his hair.

The moment Sylus groaned, a deep, loud sigh of relief escaped you, glad you no longer had to hold back. His fingers combed gently through your hair. “Well, it seems our little game has come to an end. I have to admit you were a worthy opponent... Have you decided what you want from me?” He was completely caught off guard when you nodded, softly pleading with him, “yes— please don’t stop.”

“There's no need to beg, sweetie,” he murmured. “I’ll be happy to coax those beautiful sounds from you whenever you want.” His mouth was on yours again in an instant. Both of you leaned into the kiss with such intensity that it felt like your lips might bruise, too.

Tongues and teeth clashed, producing hushed groans, with faces buried in each other's necks to muffle the sound as you ground hungrily against one another.

Relief washed over you as the tv turned on in the next room, its volume loud enough to ensure that no one would hear the two of you now.

Sylus’s tone was soft, contradicting the rough way he pulled you up and pushed you against the wall, pulling your pants down to your thighs and bending you over.

He wasted no time, running his fingers through your wet folds, gathering your slick, and letting you watch as it trailed down his fingers. “So eager and ready for me,” he teased. “Why don’t we make a new bet? I wager that we’ll be able to resonate after I fuck all that hate you have for me out of your beautiful body.”

You arched your back even deeper, offering a silent invitation. “Shut up and do it, then,” you challenged.

His light chuckle ghosted over your ear. “It seems I haven’t quite tamed my pet yet. She’s still too fucking bratty,” he remarked. Without warning, he thrust his middle finger into your cunt, accompanied by soft squelching sounds with each deep movement of his hand.

You hoped the slaps he was laying on your ass weren’t as loud as they felt, but that worry was overshadowed by the intense mix of pleasure and pain he offered. With light pop, he pulled his finger out before adding another and delving back in roughly.

Sylus couldn’t tear his gaze away from the sight of your hungry pussy clenching his fingers tightly, eager to draw him back in—a promise of how good it would feel once he was finally inside you.

He occasionally pulled out to run tight circles over your clit, teasing back and forth until you were whimpering, your arousal coating his hand.

Quickly, he freed his cock, not bothering to fully remove his pants, and ran his swollen, leaking tip through your folds with a soft groan. His hips moved slowly as his cock glided over your soft skin, slapping it against your clit and rubbing your slick around messily.

He wanted to savor this, to take it slow and truly feel you—it had been so long since he last held you like this, and each moment felt precious and fleeting.

But the silent tears tracing down your cheeks, your body’s undeniable reaction to him, stirred something primal within him. The overwhelming need to bury himself inside you consumed him entirely.

“Sorry, kitten. I don’t think I’ll be able to be gentle this time.”

His cock pressed past your entrance, your body struggling to accommodate his massive length. “Too big, S-sy,” you gasped, and he relished in the new nickname. His free hand wrapped around your throat as he pulled you against him. “Deep breaths, sweetie. You’re doing so well for me,” he softly cooed, feeling your pussy tighten even more from his praise.

Sylus’s deep chuckle at your body’s reaction to his words sent goosebumps across your skin. “Oh? It seems the key to taming this kitten is praise. Your cunt just got so tight it nearly took half my cock,” Sylus teased, pushing in deeper. He buried his face in your neck again, stretching you slowly until he bottomed out, stifling a groan with a sharp bite to your skin.

You both stayed like that for a moment, him buried deep inside you while his hand absentmindedly caressed your breast, rolling your nipple between his fingers as he tried to collect himself.

You closed your eyes, marveling at how perfectly his cock filled you up, the sensation transcending mere physical pleasure... It felt as though you were becoming one, your heartbeats and breaths synchronizing into the same rhythm.

He pulled out before slamming back inside you with force, his hips pounding vigorously. One hand reached around to circle your swollen clit while the other gripped your throat tighter, leaning your head back so your eyes met his. “I want to see every expression that crosses your face while I fuck you,” he demanded, holding you in place.

Sylus was utterly intoxicated by the look of adoration in your gaze and the sounds spilling from your lips as he took you. He silently vowed to have you again soon, no matter what, so he could hear those unrestrained, beautiful sounds as he took his time with you.

His orgasm was approaching embarrassingly fast, something that had never happened to him—your pussy just felt so unbelievably good wrapped around his cock that it was ruining him completely.

“So fucking tight,” he muttered incoherently, his voiced laced with pleasure. “You’re doing so good for me. Taking me so damn well... tell me how good my cock feels inside you, kitten.”

His thrust grew sloppy and erratic as he chased his climax; he needed you to cum with him—to feel your cunt pulse wildly around his dick as you came.

Soft whimpers escaped your lips as his hand gently restricted your airflow. “So, so good. Filling me up so perfect... Need you to cum inside, Sy.”

Those words unraveled him. His hips hammered erratically, lewd noises accompanying every deep plunge of his cock. Your eyes stayed locked on each other, both of you entranced and unwilling to look away.

Your hand tangled in the soft hair at the nape of his neck as he murmured heated praises into your ear—“So beautiful,” “Just like that, baby... Move against me just like that," "this pussy was made just for me,” and “cum for me, kitten. I want to see you cream all over my cock,” accompanied the worship of his lips and teeth on your skin.

“So fucking pretty covered in my marks,” he growled hoarsely, fingers pressing harder on your clit, his thrusts becoming almost too intense to bear.

You felt the familiar tension building, the coil tightening until his murmured “that’s it, sweetie” sent you over the edge.

The pleasure was blinding, and Sylus’s hand had to cover your mouth, muffling the scream of his name. His hips slowed before releasing copious amounts of cum deep within you with one final, hard thrust.

Your shared release trickled down your legs as you both came down from your highs.

Sylus rested his head on your shoulder, both catching your breath as his cock softened inside you. After a long while, he reluctantly pulled out, admiring the sight of your joint releases leaking from you, pussy still clenching at the absence of his cock.

Neither of you had noticed that the room beyond the door was now quiet and empty—you were too caught up in each other to realize your friends had left.

Sylus buckled his belt and helped you pull up your pants, steadying you on shaky legs. You looked up at him through sleepy eyes, your gaze so much softer than before the two of you had stepped into this closet.

Your voice was gentle as you held out your hand. “Let’s try to resonate again… I think you were right, I really feel like it could work this time.”

Sylus's gaze flickered to your outstretched hand and then back to your face.

“Not quite yet, sweetie. I think my pet requires a bit more training.” 

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

God ever since reading A Gilded Cage I cant get the thought out of my head of a part 2 where Reader doesn't see Jason for a few days after the revelation. Like maybe he thinks he's being kind and giving us some time to process, maybe he's on his angst again, or maybe some outside factor has taken his attention so the only time he's able to visit is while we're asleep.

And the whole night of the reveal feels like a fever dream when we wake up but there's a blanket draped over us and a fuzzy little kitten purring up a storm on our chest (in my heart his name is Bean (short for Toebean)), so we're at least kind of sure it happened. But as the time passes with no sign of Jason our certainty begins to wane and until we finally get fed up and write on the notepad the first thing we've asked for since that night: "You."

Or something like that idek okay I've been over here clawing at my walls frothing at the mouth I never really even liked ak!Jason before reading your stuff and now I'm feral for him and its all your fault and I'm not even mad about it

A Glimmering Collar

AKA Part Two of this series. Ahh, nonnie, you literally cooked with this. I love when my fics inspire people enough to keep thinking on them! Seriously, ty for dropping these ideas in my inbox cause I had nothing going on in my brain for a part two initially. Hope you enjoy!

~2.6k words

You wake up to something tickling your nose. Your body feels heavy, your mind even more so. Nothing in you is ready to open your eyes, to face the fact that last night could all have been a dream. That he isn't– that was just a dream.

Something soft flicks your nose again, and you force your eyes open. You blink hard once. Then twice. It's a kitten. It's tiny, and it's sitting by your face. Every few seconds, its tail sways and brushes your nose.

Oh. You sit up slowly, trying not to frighten the small thing. It looks at you contently over its shoulder and meows. The kitten stretches as you stare at it, then plops itself directly on the blanket resting over your lap.

Huh. There's a blanket you definitely don't remember grabbing sprawled over your legs. You carefully reach down to pet the kitten's head. Your heart melts a little when it nuzzles your fingers and purrs.

You look around the room slowly. Nothing else looks different. The notepad is still in place, but the kitten and blanket all point to one thing. Last night was real. Jason is alive. Jason is the Arkham Knight.

You're trying to wrap your brain around that when the door flies open, nearly making you jump out of your skin.

"Good morning!!" A flurry of voice call from the doorway. Your eyes widen as three brightly dressed people strut their way into your apartment, "Are you ready for your shopping trip, hun?"

"My– excuse me?" You stumble out, tucking the kitten to your chest as you stand.

They giggle, and one of them steps forward, "Your shopping trip, sweetie! And spa day, of course. Oh, ha, we haven't even been introduced, have we? I'm Krystal with a K, she's Destini with an i and he's Robbi also with an i."

Robbi huffs and walks up to you to pet your kitten, "Why can't you ever introduce Destini second? She can be Destini also with an i, ya know."

The other girl walks up to you as well and picks affectionately at your clothes, "Because it's alphabetical that way, Robbi. Now you better go get dressed, we have brunch reservations and mimosa plans!"

"I– sorry? What?" You ask, eyes darting between the three of them. Whatever this is, you can't keep up. You've barely processed Jason kidnapped you, and now you're supposed to go get a massage and drinks?

"The boss wants you to go out," a flat voice cuts in. You're the only one that stiffens at the sight of two large men stepping through the door.

Krystal speaks up, "We're here to make sure you have a good time! And Mack and John are here to keep us safe!"

"Mack and John," You echo weakly.

"Your body guards, silly," Destini chirps, ushering you to your room. She plucks the kitten from your hands, "Now get dressed! Wear something nice!"

You stare at the door as she shuts it. What just happened? You hear them chattering happily in the kitchen, idly talking about pregaming your shopping trip.

Your whole mind is a mess, and you sluggishly get ready, thoughts whirling. You've barely talked to soul since you were kidnapped, and now you have five new names to remember, a kitten, and a day out.

You're not exactly sure if you should be unsettled or grateful at how quickly Jason worked to get you what you asked for. By the time you've opened your bedroom door, Krystal, Destini and Robbi are passing around a flask, and playfully trying to get your 'bodyguards' to drink it.

You wonder what they must think of all this. Who they think you are. You're struck with the realization that Jason must be paying them to entertain you today.

You don't get to linger on the thought before Robbi hooked his arm with yours, dragging you towards the door, "Let's gooo, the brunch place we're going to does the best pineapple mimosas. Or cherry, if that's your thing."

"Wait," Mack– or John, you're not exactly sure which one is which– stops you, "Boss wants you to wear this."

The girls and Robbi coo in awe when Mack opens a box, revealing a glittery, jaw-dropping choker. You waver at the sight of it. It's not that it doesn't match what you're wearing. You'd dressed up like Destini suggested, but it feels like some kind of trap.

You reluctantly pick up the necklace, eyeing how it catches the light, "Is it– are sure it's safe to wear this out?" Safety isn't really what you're concerned about at the moment.

You're more worried about the crushing weight that this means more than you understand.

John nods once, "There won't be any problems."

Krystal happily plucks the necklace from your fingers, and before you have time to argue, she drapes the necklace around your throat. "It's beautiful, hun. Just like you. Let's go get you something to eat," her voice is soft, measured, and full of so much understanding it makes you want to cry.

You don't know much they know, but when she hooks her arm with yours to guide you out the door, you have a feeling there's more awareness than their bubbly attitudes let on.

The day ends up being wonderful. Being around people, out under the sun (the sun Gotham does get), was rejuvenating. You had fun, joked, smiled, and for a day, it was almost like you didn't have a prison cell to go back to.

The food was delicious, the spa relaxing, and you didn't have to carry back a single bag. Krystal had flashed a black card at every payment, every place ever could want to shop at, reassuring you it's all been taken care of.

But the time you've collapsed on the couch, exhausted but content, the uneasy feelings from this morning are gone.

You settle on the cushions to wait for Jason. To thank him for listening or to yell at him for still keeping you here, you're not exactly sure yet.

But he doesn't come, you fall asleep in your expensive necklace and pretty clothes with one hand petting your kitten. He doesn't come the next day either, at least not while you're awake, but Krystal, Destini, and Robbi do.

Your friends, the people being paid to entertain you are nice, perfect even. They're exactly what you would have asked for.

Your kitten is perfect too, it cuddles with you at night and nuzzles under your chin after you're left alone, when the unease finds its way back to you.

It's been days since you've seen him. It's starting to feel like a lifetime. You know he comes back after you fall asleep, he moves things. You think it's his way of showing that he listened, that he came back because you asked.

The notepad, the one you haven't written on since that night, shifts closer to you on the glass table if you sleep on the couch.

The glimmering choker gets pulled out of the drawer every time you try to put it away. Your kitten has a growing collection of toys and things to climb on.

It's obvious he's visiting, so why won't he let you see him? Day five of dancing around each other breaks you. You want to see him, want to talk to him, and understand. You want Jason.

Your hand shakes a little, when you go to write on the notepad, and when you wake up the next morning, the paper is blank again.

You wait. You wait some more. All day you wait for him. No one else comes. It's strangely quiet, with just you and your kitten. You've just about given up, collapsed in your bed, when the glowing whites of his helmet catch your attention.

You sit up quickly and throw your legs off the bed as you stare into the doorway, "You came."

"Did you mean it," he asks, any emotion he's feeling hidden by the aggravating modulator.

"Mean what," You question, standing off the bed to walk closer to him, "Will you take the mask off?"

He doesn't move for a moment, just takes in the sight of you. The silence that drags almost makes you regret the question, but he carefully pulls off his helmet, "What you wrote. That you wanted me."

"I– yeah, Jason. I haven't– it's been days since I saw you," You only notice mid sentence that his hand is reaching for your face, it makes your voice waver. "You never answered any of my questions," You finish weakly.

His hand stills and he drops it, "Questions. That's what you wanted?"

You nod a little, searching his face for any hint of what he's feeling, but he gives nothing away.

He sighs softly, and looks away, adjusting his helmet under his arm. You think he might look disappointed, "I can't give you the answers you're looking for."

"Why not," You question softly, worried to push him away.

Jason turns his focus back to you, "I just need you to stay here. Please," he sighs out your name, and his hand twitches as if to touch you, "Don't fight me on this."

"That's not fair," You mumble, "Why am I here, Jason? You know I would have listened if you came to talk to me instead of– this."

Silence falls again, and he steps past you into your room. He sets his helmet on your dresser and picks up the choker resting on the wooden surface, "I wish you would wear this. I picked it out for you."

"Jason," You start, tracking his movements.

"I know," he cuts you off, "but I told you, you don't need to understand anything." You stiffen when he steps back towards you and guides you to turn around.

The air leaves your lungs as his gloves brush over your skin. He sets the necklace around your throat, and even after it rests heavy against your skin, his touch lingers.

"You just need to stay here. It's safe. I've given you everything you've asked for, and everything you haven't," Jason says softly, stepping out from behind you. His gaze lingers on your neck for a moment, and the stifling, unexplainable feeling sets back into your gut.

Your words stick in your throat. There's a sense of danger, one that doesn't make sense. Jason wouldn't hurt you. Not the Jason you know. But is this the Jason you know? The thought makes you want to tear the choker from your skin and throw it at him.

"It feels like a collar," You say quietly, and your breath hitches when his gaze snaps go yours, "I mean, it's pretty. Really. But, it feels– like it's more," You stumble out.

He nods slowly, and he doesn't stop himself from touching you this time. His fingers trace the choker, linger over your collarbones, brush along your pulse, "Maybe it is."

You blink at him, every thought flying from your brain, "What?"

He hums softly, hooking a finger under the shiny jewels to draw you closer, "Does that scare you? Knowing that you can't leave? Knowing that no matter how pretty these are, it's just another way to keep you?"

"You wouldn't hurt me," you say instead, it sounds like you believe it, but you're not sure if you're trying to convince yourself or him.

"I don't want to," He admits, fingers leaving your throat to trail up your jaw, "but I probably could."

"I don't believe that. I remember–" He tuts, tapping your cheek. Your heart drops when you realize he's mirroring where his own brand is.

"I'm not what you remember," he says firmly, before whispering your name, "I'm not that Jason. Not really."

"Then who are you," You ask, even though you don't want to know the answer. You want to pretend he's still something you know.

His eyes dart over your face, then back down to the necklace, "I'm still Jason. But I'm also the Arkham Knight."

"What does that mean," You push, reach up to grab his wrist, demanding his attention, demanding real answers.

"It means that you stay. It means that I give you what you want. Everything and anything except leaving," he says, voice lowering to something kinder, gentler, "it'll make sense eventually. You'll be happy here. Safe."

"Will that make you happy?" You ask, fingers tightening on his wrist. Half of you wants to pull him away, stop him from tracing patterns over your cheek, but the other part of you wants to press his hand closer.

Something flicks in his eyes at your words, "Yes."

"Will it keep you safe?" You murmur, eyes locked on his.

He doesn't answer, clenching and unclenching his jaw for a moment, "Safety is an option I don't have."

"It could be, if you wanted it," You say, dropping his wrist. It must be true. Even with all the secrets he's keeping, his evasive disappearing act, he could take off the armor. Leave behind the new symbol engraved over his chest.

He laughs a little and swipes his thumb under your eye, "I'm glad that you don't understand. It's good, that they didn't twist you into something unrecognizable."

"Understand?" You prompt, unsettled by his laughter.

"That they need to pay. All of them do," he smiles a little, it's a mockery of the one you remember. Jason traces the choker one last time before stepping back.

"You're leaving," You say, not a question, a statement of fact. He's leaving, without explaining anything again.

"I am," he affirms, moving to grab his helmet.

"I want you to stay," You breathe out and he freezes in place.

He exhales softly and faces you again, "You don't know what you're asking."

"I do. I want you to stay," You repeat, reaching out to push his helmet back towards the dresser.

"And then what?" He asks lowly, a warning, "What do you expect to happen?"

It makes you waver, "I– I don't know. But it's what I want."

It's another long moment of nothing before he answers, gesturing towards the bed, "Go to sleep."

"You'll stay?"

He nods at your question, unceremoniously dragging the chair from your desk to your bedside.

"Is that going to be comfortable–" You begin, settling yourself in the bed.

"You're overthinking it," he mumbles, waving at you to lay down. You do, watching as your kitten jumps into his lap, curling up like this is something that happens all the time. (You have the feeling it is) "Have you named him," he asks quietly.

"The kitten? Mm, no. Wanted you to," You say softly, carefully not to unsettle either of them.

"I wouldn't be good at it," Jason protests, eyes flicking between you and the kitten.

"I don't mind," You murmur, "anything's better than 'kitten'."

He pauses, so quiet and still you think he won't answer, "Bean," he mumbles, reluctant as the newly appointed Bean cuddles into his armor.

You smile, "Bean's a good name."

He doesn't answer, seemingly engrossed with watching the kitten.

You take him in for another moment, memorizing his face before closing your eyes. It's not an accident that you leave your palm open and face up by the side of the bed.

There's no more pleasantries exchanged, no sweet goodnights or the gentle touches against your face you've grown used to. But just as you finally start to drift off, as darkness finally draws you to rest, a warm, rough hand weaves itself into yours and squeezes.

Part Three

[trashogram]

He Chose You (Pt.1)

Lucifer/Reader

Hazbin Hotel AU where Lilith never existed, Lucifer has been lonely for over a millennia and Charlie will be born one way or another. Rated E for explicit sexual content of the raunchiest variety in later chapters and also weird old people.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 13.5 | Part 14 | End

There was a knock at your door. It sounded like someone rapping their knuckles against the wood whimsically, as if following the beat of a song you couldn’t hear.

The methodical folding of your clothes into garage sale-quality drawers came to a halt. You looked over your shoulder, shifting on your feet hesitantly.

It had been little over a week since you moved into the grand old Donner apartment. Apart from a quick tow-in of shoddy furniture from your hired movers, no one had come calling. 

You definitely weren’t expecting anyone either, not in a brand new city you’d spontaneously decided to live in.

After another moment of uncertainty, you pivoted to the door and inched it open to a slit you could peek through. “Hello?”

Your brow furrowed as you stared at the empty space ahead of you. Pulling the door open fully, you peered down one end of the hallway to the other. 

Nothing but cracked and crumbling crown moldings on wainscoting, a matted-looking saxony carpet, the same musty, stale air…

‘Quack’

You nearly jumped out of your skin, head snapping down to see a real, live duck standing just outside your doorframe. 

“Oh!”

     You immediately squatted down to marvel at the animal. It gazed back up at you with beady red eyes and a curious gait. 

“Hey little guy,” You cooed, smiling despite the incongruous image of a waterfowl in your building.

You raised a hand and reached out slowly, instinctive desire to pet the cute little creature warring with a minuscule yet no less embarrassing fear. 

Were ducks typically friendly? You knew so little, ornithology not being your thing. 

“Will you let me pet you?” Your fingers hovered over the surprisingly patient animal before it decided to nudge itself under your palm.

The duck shivered with delight at your touch, all-white feathers ruffling excitedly and tail wagging, looking akin to a very happy dog. 

“Oh my god.” You gasped, heart melting. “You’re so cute!”

Soft feathers brushed against your bent knees as the duck drew close enough to rub its body against you. It had gone from doggish to cat-like effortlessly, and you couldn’t help giggling over how silly it looked.

“Where did you come from?” You asked after a bit of cuddling, glancing from side to side once again. The hallway remained empty, no one running to fetch what you assumed was a beloved pet. 

     ‘That’s… weird.’ You thought. ‘So, who knocked on my door?’ 

It was tempting to ask the bird that was currently bouncing on its webbed feet. You couldn’t help but snort with laughter before positioning yourself so that you were sitting. In an instant, the duck made to climb into your lap, allowing you to carefully lift it onto your legs when it couldn’t reach. 

“You’re so silly!” Grinning, you continued to stroke its head. “Your owner is probably worried sick about their silly little guy.” 

‘Quack’ 

The duck burrowed its head against your stomach as it settled on your lap, and you sighed. “I’d love to keep you, but I don’t know how to take care of you, sweetie.” 

Little red eyes bore into you from below, seemingly wide and beseeching. It was too precious, and too perfect (to the point where you idly wondered if someone was somehow scouting a way to scam you via adorable duck shenanigans).

Aside from the guttural, sad ‘wek’ you got in reply, a slow creak of hinges drew your attention back up. The door across from you had visibly opened the barest amount. You squinted, just able to make out frizzy red hair and a red-rimmed, down-turned mouth in the dim lighting. 

“Oh hey, hi!” You stopped yourself from standing, instead of bracing the bundle in your lap close. “Is this your duck?”

A tingle went up your spine as the door opened fully and an old woman appeared. She was dressed in green capri pants and a ruffled tan blouse, hair red as an open flame and barely kept in-check by a cheetah-print scarf. The makeup she wore was caked on, harsh red lipstick smeared around her thin lips and black kohl-rimmed eyes popping out of her wrinkled face. 

The sour, almost suspicious look on her face softened but did not completely go away, even when she smiled.

“Oh Lou!” She cried, making you jump. “You didn’t get very far, did you? I almost didn’t notice you were gone, you little scoundrel!”

“Well, thank goodness for that I guess. He’s got those little legs, ya see,” She nodded down at your lap, “but he’s so darn fast anyway, might as well be a midget racehorse!”

You chuckled and smiled politely. That persistent tingling at your back had you holding back a shiver, and the skin on your arms prickled and rose. 

“I didn’t know we could have pet ducks in this building.” Your words belied a confidence, as well as interest in having a conversation with this woman, that you didn’t truly have. 

As a matter of fact, despite the inner scolding you gave yourself for being judgmental, you were quite off-put in the woman’s presence. The want to return to your apartment and shut the door in her overly-painted face was rising like a lump in your throat. 

“He seems to really like you, that’s so sweet. He’s not usually this friendly with anyone but my hubby. That’s Mr. Farrow, honey, have you met him?” The woman - presumably Mrs, Farrow, leaned down just a few feet away. 

She still looked to be examining you and your avian companion, the bland pleasantness oozing yet unable to suffocate the shrewd glint in her dark eyes. 

“Oh, uh, no. I’m afraid I haven’t -” You started. 

“Oh, that’s alright! That’s fine! Matter of fact, he’d get an earful from me if he was talkin’ to a pretty thing like you without me knowin’!” Mrs. Farrow laughed. “Just kiddin’, honey. You’re new to the building though, aren’t you? Well, welcome! It’s nice to see a new face here! ‘Specially a young one!” 

“Thank —”

“Maybe that’s why Lou is so taken with you! Animals just thrive off energy and sunshine and all that. Not slow, almost dead things. I’m sure you’re birds of a feather that way.” 

Again, your soft laughter is polite, teetering on nervousness. 

You took a moment to rise, humming apologetically when Lou squawked as he was jostled. On your feet, you instinctively stepped back. One foot over the threshold and solid in your apartment. 

“He is really sweet.” You said, holding the animal out as carefully as you could. “I’m glad he didn’t get lost.”

Mrs. Farrow stared, arms falling to her sides. She didn’t attempt to take the bird from you for a long, long moment. 

Confusion and disbelief clouded your mind as you stood, waiting, watching as Mrs. Farrow’s throat bobbed when she swallowed forcefully. 

What? Was she afraid of the duck?

In a split-second, she returned to smiling animatedly and waved a geriatric hand in the air so flippantly that the uncomfortable moment ceased to exist. 

“Oh honey, you can put him down if you want. He’ll come back over now that our door’s open.” Mrs. Farrow laughed. “Lou’s not my biggest fan. He’s such a prideful thing, you know. Just like Mr. Farrow - it’s probably why they get along so well!”

You blinked, then slowly bent at the waist to let Lou down. The duck made another disdainful quack, red eyes looking at you morosely. 

It’s little legs eventually rowed through the air in an effort to gain footing. You lightly placed him over the carpet and let go, allowing Lou to jump down. 

The duck began waddling away, though it appeared to hang its head as it did so. Occasionally, he turned to look at you, somber and sullen as if bidding farewell before walking on death row. 

“Aww, poor little thing.” Mrs. Farrow drawled. At your side. “Looks like my Lou is sweet on you! Poor guy, I can see why! Again, a lovely young thing like you is probably a gift from above in this stuffy old place.” 

“Say, how long have you been here?” 

You turned to the old woman. “About a week, I’m still getting settled.”

Mrs. Farrow nodded vigorously, eyes bright but mouth pursed. “A week, a week?! A week and no one’s introduced themselves to you?”

“Holy Toledo, you must think we’re all a bunch a’ snobs in here! That’s no good. Oh! Why don’t you come over for dinner sometime and me and my mister can show you some proper hospitality?” 

“Oh, that's really nice of you —” 

“Sure! Sure! It’ll be great, how ‘bout tomorrow night? It’d give us some time to get prepared, have things cleaned and settled. Do you like steak? That’d be perfect, actually. I’ve got some in the freezer just waitin’ to be defrosted.”

“Um, well — That’s a little short notice…”

“I’m sure Mr. Farrow won’t mind. He’ll be glad for the company, and if he isn’t, well he will be when I’m done with him.” She chortled. “Just another joke, honey. He’s always dyin’ to talk to someone that isn’t me. It’d be a real treat to him. Treat ta me too! What do you say?”

Your mouth opened and closed as a light sheen of sweat broke over the nape of your neck. Mrs. Farrow’s sharp eyes were wider, attempting to beguile you while your head was still spinning. 

“I-I guess, maybe —” You stammered.

“Wonderful!” The eccentric woman’s eyes lit up like fireworks, cigarette-smoker’s voice becoming truly raucous in her delight. “I’ll go ahead and get started. You go get back to what it was you were doing before Lou and I interrupted you! And don’t worry about a thing! We might be old timers, but a good meal and good cheer never go out of style.” 

Mrs. Farrow laughed, pretending to shoo you away until you were back inside your apartment and she was pulling your door to a close for you. 

“Have a good night, honey! We’ll see you tomorrow! 6 o’clock, don’t be late!”

Before you knew it, you were staring at the back of your own door again. 

‘What the fuck just happened?’

[mage8]

This is bisexual John Lennon 101 and should be required reading

Hello, I'm the last anon you answered to. I'm sorry if I came out as defensive because it wasn't my intention. In fact I've always thought that John was bisexual until I started questioning everything. ( I'm a bisexual guy myself and I'm perfectly happy with the way I am ! ) It's just that I feel like Yoko would just say whatever she wants on John to suit her agenda. John's sexuality had always been an interesting topic and dropping something like that would gaib her publicity this is why I --

I question the authenticity of her claims. She could have lied about it just to attract attention… And I’d be disappointed because John was in fact my idol and he gave me the strength to come out as bi to my family. But there’s so many anecdotes about him being homophobic that it just makes me sad and this is why I hardly doubt that he was a bisexual man…As for the Cynthia quote I heard her say something like “ John was afraid of homosexuality just like everyone ) in a video on Youtube –

I am very conflicted because I’ve watched videos of John ( interviews etc ) and many comments said that he was very skilled at manipulating people and wasn’t as honest as he appeared to be, which is why I doubt. John had always been the rebellious type and I started thinking that he was using the bisexuality topic to shock and make people talk about it which is disappointing. Was he dropping hints that he was bi to piss off people and make publicity ? This is what I believe : (There is also -

Something he said to Alaister Taylor where he said that he was trying to spread the rumor that he was gay or bi just for fun and he told him that he would never shag a man because just the thought of it turned him off… Yet he also told him that he adored Brian so much that he would have done anything with him ( he contradict himself here. ) So yeah I didn’t want to be rude. I apologize. I think I need reassurance. Could you please analyse everything I said if u don’t mind please ? : (

-

Anon 2

At the very least all these years later isn’t it circumstantially suggested that John had very private gay encounters, and was uncomfortable making them public, yet wanted to hint at them so he could deal with this matter int he future? He was protecting his privacy and his ego, and perhaps wasn’t yet ready to reveal either his encounters or mixed feelings of bisexuality. His encounters have been protected by those with whom he was involved, people thameant a lot to him, no?

-

Anon 3

hey! by any chance, do you have knowledge of the quotes where john said “sex with girls felt like a performance after the first time” and “i was never sexually attracted to women before yoko”? i am SURE i’ve seen the first one somewhere on tumblr, though the second one is more of a quote of a quote so i’m not sure if it’s real or not dfkdjk thanks, anyway!

-

Anon 4

Hello! Is it true that John used to be very attracted to the drag scene in St Pauli ( I guess that was the town I read about ) and that basically the drag / gay scene made him feel comfortable and at home? Says a lot about him!

-

@tbhmarjj

I adore you, thank u for this blog and ur beautiful mind. i doubt johns bisexuality at times tbh considering he went to great lengths for publicity and he wanted to be an LGBT ally, be cool and outspoken and as he himself said it was trendy to be bi. but then again he was obsessed with Paul in so many ways and he was the embodiment of John’s ideal man. beautiful, talented, intellectual. I’ll be patiently awaiting ur posts exploring Paul’s views on johns sexuality.Thank u

-

Hello again, anon! 

I want to begin by thanking you for getting back to me after I answered your ask and for clarifying where you were coming from when you wrote it. It really is quite hard to fully get the tone of a written message, especially one that is so short that you have no context to draw from to get the emotional meaning behind it. It really appeared to me when I read it that the concern was not who was saying it (Yoko) but about what was being said (John was bisexual). I can now see that was not the case and I appreciate that you’ve made that clear. 

I also hope you don’t mind, but I’ve taken the opportunity to include in this answer all of the other asks I’ve been receiving regarding John’s sexuality. It’s clearly a topic of great interest in this community. So I’ll be attempting to address all the points raised here. Again, this is nothing definitive; only my personal readings of the situation as I find it at the moment.

Before I do answer, though, I’d just like everyone to take a deep breath and a step back. Let’s try to examine this topic a bit more objectively. 

I understand that sex is kind of major in our society. Our notion of identity is tightly bound to our classified sexuality and gender. Sexual relationships (or amorous relationships) are seen as the epitome of human connection and the ideal everyone should be striving for. And people fundamentally want to be loved and not alone, so it makes sense that figuring out who is a potential companion (and if that companion is interested back) is such a big deal.

But despite these layers of meaning and societal pressures, we should keep in mind what sex represents, essentially, from an evolutionary point of view. 

For social animals who derive pleasure from sexual stimulation, sexual intercourse is – like all the other kinds of affection – a way to build connections. 

If you want to find examples in nature, just look at our ape cousins, the bonobos. The also called pygmy chimpanzee lives in a matriarchal society where sexual behaviour plays an essential role in strengthening social bonds, lowering tension and keeping the peace. Bonobos don’t discriminate between gender or age (except between mothers copulating with their own adult sons, so as to prevent cross-breeding). It’s the true “free love” society; evolution took “make love, not war” and ran with it. 

Our own culture seems more similar to that of bonobos’ northern neighbours, the common chimp. Their patriarchy is more conservative regarding sexual intercourse, which is mainly used for reproduction purposes, and their power structure is based around intricate political games, where males form alliances and try to get public support in order to overthrow the ruling party.

I find it endlessly curious to look at these two species, whose physical separation by the Congo river made them diverge so starkly in their social organization, and compare them to the struggle between these same two natures that we find in our own society. 

All this to say that, from a simply biological point of view, I have to agree with John and Yoko when they say that everyone must be bisexual. If sexual intercourse as a social behaviour is, inherently, all about establishing bonds and connections, the extent to which those connections are “allowed” to be built depends entirely on the hierarchal structure that same society is trying to preserve. In other words, what is classified as morally right or wrong is more reflective of the rules in place to keep that society working as it is, than it is of what is naturally present as a drive. 

If your brain is primed to seek pleasure and sexual intercourse brings you pleasure independently of the partner’s gender, then the partner’s gender should be inconsequential.

But unlike bonobos, humans are kind of touchy about touching. So there are other levels of information influencing behaviour. The processes of socialization – of internalizing the norms and ideologies of society – and enculturation – by which people learn the dynamics of their surrounding culture and acquire values and norms appropriate or necessary in that culture and worldviews – are as determinant as the genetic factors influencing behaviour. In fact, this added education can be so effective in curbing your “primal instincts”, that one might forget they have them in the first place. 

Thus, the concepts of gender identity and sexual orientation are a constantly shifting construct based on the various interactions between your genetic makeup and social influences. 

I just think that, in order to have this discussion, it’s important to separate the various levels of it and be clear about which we are referring to.

There is the basic evolutionary drive to seek pleasure and form connections.

There is the social education about that same drive and how it is allowed to manifest itself.

And integrating all these different signals and information – various potentials which manifested as attraction – there finally is a behaviour, a choice.

And finally, there’s the external point of view of other members of society looking in and trying to discern other people’s drives and how they relate to their choices (that’s us now). The problem is, we often throw our own drives and choices into the mix, especially with regards to something as personally defining as sexual orientation. 

So we have to make very clear in our minds what is the end goal here. Why are we interested in discussing this topic? Are we looking to discern as much of the truth as we can get it, objectively trying to understand these human beings? Or are we trying to confirm our own projections on them? And please, don’t take me wrong. All these are valid reasons to be interested in a subject. Often how it resonates with us, so personally, is vitally important to reaching a greater understanding about ourselves and learning how to communicate that to others. 

But in the same way a piece of music can make you have a transformative emotional experience that the artist didn’t necessarily go through, it’s important to remember that our own inner-life might be affecting how we examine others. Better be mindful of what we project, lest we think are finally seeing inside another person when in fact we are only looking at our own reflection. (And honestly, I believe getting to truly know ourselves in this processes can be a hundred times more valuable than knowing the other. By learning to recognize ourselves we can better understand other people and vice-versa.) 

So if it is important to you that John is bisexual, my honest opinion is that all the information can be read in a way that confirms it. We’ll hardly ever know for sure, and based on what we do know, that can certainly be the takeaway. 

But if we want to objectively examine John’s sexuality, we shouldn’t bring in a confirmation bias. Meaning that we should be emotionally detached from the outcome, as long as it is as close to the truth as we can get. But this is only where I’m coming from, and I’m a bit of a scientist. It’s totally fair if you’re not in it for the same reasons. Though again, working under the assumption that you want to know my stance on it, let’s proceed.

Keep reading

[chaos-in-deepspace]

LADS Sylus: Sweet Night | SFW

Am I entering a Sylus era? No, no I'm not. I just love them all and got this idea real fast and needed to quickly type it out.

Pairings: Sylus x Reader Warnings: None Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+.

Blog Information | Masterlist

Sylus

Whenever he goes to bed, you're just waking up, and whenever it's time for you to go to bed, he's already drinking his morning coffee in the kitchen. It was one of the few things you absolutely despised about your schedules. Just once, you wanted to fall asleep in his arms.

Sylus could see it on your face as you were pouting, heading towards the bedroom. You didn't even know when you came to just casually sleep at his place almost every night, but it was part of your routine now.

"Sweetie, what's wrong?" he asked, noticing how you seemed to be sulking as you turned to him. How did you even voice what you wanted? It wasn't like he could help it, in the end. His meetings took place late evening and at night, while your work started early in the day.

He noticed the hesitation as he walked over to you, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you into him, "Come on, you can tell me." he coaxed, his words sweet and gentle in your ears, a tone reserved only for you.

You let out a sigh, looking up at him, "I just...do you think sometime we can...go to bed together. And wake up together?" you decided a direct approach was always best with Sylus. He was accommodating to you all the time, as long as you spoke what was on your mind.

He hummed, leaning in and pressing a kiss to your temple, "Is that all you wanted?" he murmured against you, "Then how about...next week? I can clear my schedule then, and we can have a day, start to finish." he settled on, making your heart soar.

"You'd do that for me?" you asked, feeling so content in the moment as he hummed, the sound vibrating against you.

"It's not like you're asking for much, sweetie, honestly you could've asked for far more and I'd still go along with it." he said and you chuckled.

"I'll hold you to that, then." you said, reaching an arm up to drag him down for a quick kiss.

You felt like that week dragged on, your entire mind only focusing on your plans for Friday night. Getting off work and immediately heading towards the N109 zone. You were exhausted beyond belief, but the comforting feeing of walking into the familiar Onychinous base made you feel at ease.

Instead of seeing Sylus in his robe, sipping on coffee while going through his phone, you saw him still fully dressed from his day. He had a sweet smile as he beckoned you closer.

A warm shower, soft words, and finally, finally, the soft embrace of his bed. HIs arms wrapped securely around you as you pressed your face into his neck, your hand over his chest so you could feel his heartbeat. Even still, it ran wild, but that too was oddly calming for you now.

He squeezed you closer to him, and he looked just as exhausted as you were, "Did you pull an all dayer for this?" you teased him, your voice coming out softer now as he looked at you and smirked.

"Obviously," he murmured, "I wouldn't be able to sleep if I was working off my normal schedule." he said, pinching your side and making you squirm closer to him until you were hooking a leg around his.

You were silent for a moment as you thought things over, "I...thank you for doing this for me." you finally said, pressing a kiss to the wide expanse of his chest that you could reach from your angle.

"It's not much, you shouldn't praise someone doing the bare minimum, darling," he said, "Raise your standards."

"My standards are already incredibly high thanks to you, sir," you scoffed playfully. His face was pressed into your hair now, and you could feel him smiling against you.

"That's how it should be...besides, this seemed important to you. You seemed stressed last week about the whole ordeal." he pointed out and you blinked for a moment, processing his words. You didn't realize you had shown that many signs of it bothering you, but Sylus did have a tendency to be able to read you like an open book.

"Ya, I guess I was..." you said, "I just," the words were embarrassing to admit, "Tara had talked about how nice it was to fall asleep and wake up in the arms of her current boyfriend, and I felt a bit envious over it. I thought that wouldn't be possible for us."

Sylus hummed, "If you want, I can put more of an effort into laying with you until you fall asleep, and coming back before you wake up." he commented.

"What if I wake up in the middle of the night?"

"Then call me, and I'll come back," he said, "Now hush, we're both tired, and need sleep. As much as I enjoy our little talk, you had a long day, didn't you?" he asked and you hummed.

"I assume Mephisto was reporting about my work day?"

"He always does," Sylus said, "Now sleep, I promise, for at least tonight, even if you wake up in the middle of the night, I'll still be here."

"Alright, goodnight Sylus."

"Goodnight, sweetie."

[pucksandpower]

Borrowed Time

Charles Leclerc x single mother!Reader

Summary: you do everything in your power to make your sick son’s dream come true but what you don’t realize is that meeting his hero will change all of your lives forever

Warnings: terminal illness and death

“You know what would be the coolest, Mama?” The soft voice of your son, Luca, breaks through the silence of the hospital room.

You brush a stray hair from his forehead, trying to coax a smile onto your face despite the weight in your chest. “What’s that, sweetheart?”

“To meet Charles Leclerc. Just once. To tell him he’s my hero.” Luca’s eyes, though tired, gleam with that familiar spark every time he talks about Formula 1.

Your heart aches, knowing how much this means to him. “He is pretty amazing on the track, isn’t he?” You respond, reminiscing about the countless races you’ve both watched together from this very room.

Luca nods, holding his toy race car, a replica of Charles’ Ferrari. “Yeah, but it’s not just that. He never gives up, even when things get tough. Kinda like me.” There’s a hint of pride in his voice, making you marvel at his resilience.

You pull him close, tears threatening to spill. “You’re my hero too,” you whisper, kissing his temple.

He snuggles closer, murmuring, “I just wish I could meet him, Mama. Tell him he gives me strength.”

You take a deep breath, new resolve settling in. “You never know, my love. Miracles happen.”

The determination you feel is like a roaring fire and you silently vow to make Luca’s dream come true. No matter what it takes.

***

As the evening shadows stretch across the hospital room, you find yourself deep in thought, racking your brain for any means to make Luca’s wish a reality. You think about reaching out on social media, starting a campaign, anything to catch Charles Leclerc’s attention.

You start by posting on your personal pages: a heartfelt message accompanied by a picture of Luca holding his toy race car, the walls of his room adorned with posters of Charles racing. #LucaMeetsLeclerc, you caption it, hoping against hope that the message reaches the right eyes and ears.

The following days are a whirlwind. Friends, family, and even strangers share the post, and the hashtag starts trending in your community. Messages of support flood in and local news channels express interest in Luca’s battle.

One evening, after reading Luca a bedtime story, your phone buzzes with a notification. It’s an email from a name you don’t recognize but the subject line sends your heart racing: A Special Meeting.

Opening it hastily, your eyes skim over the words:

Dear Y/N,

I represent Charles Leclerc. We were deeply moved by Luca’s story and would like to arrange a meeting ...

Tears blur your vision and you can’t help but let out a soft sob of relief and joy. Luca, hearing your cry, looks up at you with curious eyes. “Mama? What’s wrong?”

You pull him into a tight embrace, trying to convey all the love and happiness you feel. “Sweetie,” you whisper, pulling back to meet his gaze, “I think your dream might just come true.”

Luca’s eyes widen and his smile lights up the room brighter than any lamp ever could. The journey to fulfill a lifelong dream has just begun.

***

The hospital room feels heavier than usual. The rhythmic beeping of monitors fills the silence as Luca plays absent-mindedly with his race car on the bed. Just as you are about to suggest a card game, a knock interrupts the monotony.

“Come in,” you call softly.

The door opens and to your astonishment, Charles Leclerc himself steps inside, a shy smile gracing his features. He seemed different than on the TV — more human, more vulnerable.

“Ciao, Luca,” Charles greets, his voice gentle.

Luca’s eyes widen, his jaw dropping. “You ... you’re real.”

Charles chuckles, pulling a chair closer to the bed. “Last time I checked, I am. Your mom tells me you’re quite the fan.”

Luca nods vigorously. “You’re my hero. When you race, I feel like I’m flying. Free from this …” He gestures vaguely at the hospital equipment surrounding him.

Charles’ eyes soften. “Thank you. That means a lot to me. But, you know, you’re a hero too. Racing against challenges every day.”

You watch their interaction, touched by Charles’ genuine empathy. “Thank you for coming. It ... it means the world.”

Charles turns to you, a depth of understanding in his eyes. “When I read about Luca, I saw more than just a fan. I saw a fighter. Just like on the track, it’s the fights we don’t see that often matter most.”

There is a brief silence, filled with unsaid emotions.

Luca’s voice, trembling with emotion, breaks the quiet. “I have a question, Charles. How do you stay brave even when you’re scared?”

Charles takes a moment before responding. “I focus on the present. Fear often comes from thinking about what might happen. But in the moment, there’s a job to do, a race to finish.”

Luca looks thoughtful. “So, you mean I should focus on now and not think about ... later?”

Charles nods, placing a comforting hand on Luca’s. “Exactly. Live in the now and remember that every race has its challenges. It’s how we face them that defines us.”

Tears well up in your eyes, gratitude and admiration for Charles swelling within you. Here he was, not just a racing star but a beacon of strength for your son.

“Thank you,” you whisper, voice choked with emotion.

Charles smiles, glancing between you and Luca. “No, thank you. Today, I met a true champion.”

***

“You know,” Charles begins, playing with the edges of the signed Ferrari cap he just gifted Luca, “I once met a kid, a bit older than you, at a race. He told me that every time he felt like giving up, he’d watch one of our races. Said it gave him hope."

Luca’s fingers trace the signature on the cap. “Is that why you race? For people like him ... and me?”

Charles leans back, gazing out the window for a moment. “Partly. But also for myself. Racing ... it’s my passion, my escape. It’s where I find my strength.”

You feel compelled to share your own perspective. “We all have our races, don’t we? For Luca, it’s here, fighting every day. For me, it's trying to be strong for him, even when I feel like falling apart.”

Charles looks at you intently. “It’s incredible the strength we find when it’s for someone we love. Your journey, your race, is just as important — is more important — than any I’ve been on.”

Touched by his words, you continue, “I watch you race. The precision, the dedication. It’s art. I want Luca to have something like that, something to pour his heart into.”

Luca chimes in, his voice soft, “I think I already have something. Watching races with Mama, it’s our thing. It helps me forget, even if just for a while.”

Charles leans forward, engaging Luca directly. “Then let’s make a promise. You keep fighting your race here and I'll keep racing out there. Deal?”

Luca’s smile is radiant. “Deal.”

There is a pause, a moment of reflection, before Charles turns to you. “You're an incredible mother. The strength you show, the love ... it’s palpable. And it reminds me so much of my own maman.”

You blink away tears. “We do what we have to for our children.”

He nods, a faraway look in his eyes. “She would always say the same thing after losing my father. And sometimes, despite all the pain and struggle, we find connections, kindred spirits, who remind us we’re not alone.”

You smile, feeling a deep bond forming, not just between Luca and Charles but between two souls who understood the depth of love, sacrifice, and hope.

***

“I have a proposition,” Charles offers, the twinkle in his eyes belying the gravity of his words.

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued. “Go on.”

“How would you both feel about attending a race in-person? I can make sure Luca is comfortable and you both get the full VIP experience.”

Luca’s face lights up with hope and disbelief. “Really? I ... I’d get to see you race in real life?”

Charles nods, “Right from the best seat in the paddock.”

You hesitate, considering the logistics, the health implications. “I don’t know. It’s a beyond generous offer but Luca’s health …”

Charles raise a hand, preempting your concerns. “I’ve thought about that. We have top medical facilities at the track and I’ll make sure we have everything necessary for Luca.”

“You’d do that for us?” you whisper, the weight of his offer sinking in.

Charles leans forward, sincerity evident in his gaze. “I’ve won races, stood on podiums. But the race Luca is running, the courage he’s showing ... it’s unmatched. I want him to see a race, not just as a spectator but as a fellow racer.”

Luca looks up, eyes brimming with tears. “You make it sound like I’m a hero. But I’m just trying to get by, just trying to ... to live.”

“And that’s what makes you a hero,” Charles replies gently. “Facing adversity and pushing through, not because of fame or accolades but because of love, hope, and sheer will.”

You feel a lump in your throat, deeply moved by Charles’ words. “It’s not just race wins or trophies that make you a champion, Charles. It’s moments like this. Thank you. This means more than words can say.”

He smiles, a touch of sadness in his eyes. “In the grand scheme of things, life is the most important race. And in that race, I’ve found two champions right here.”

***

In Monza, as you settle into the VIP area with Luca by your side, the excitement in the air is overwhelming in the best way possible. The roar of the engines, the sea of red flags, the bustling energy of the crowd — it is a sensory overload that fills Luca’s eyes with wonder.

“Monza is special, you know,” Charles whispers, kneeling next to Luca’s wheelchair, overlooking the historic Italian track. He slips off a red Ferrari bracelet from his wrist, its well-worn leather showing its age. “This was given to me when I first joined Ferrari. I like to think that it’s brought me luck ever since.”

Luca’s eyes widen, tracing the intricacies of the bracelet. “Why are you giving it to me?”

Charles smiles, “Today, I want you to hold onto my luck. Keep it safe for me, will you?”

Nodding fervently, Luca reverently holds the bracelet. “I promise.”

When Charles leaves to prepare for the race, Luca clutches the Ferrari bracelet to his heart. “Mama, did you see? He gave this to me. His lucky bracelet!”

You smile, brushing a tear from your cheek. “Yes, sweetheart. He wants you to keep it safe. It’s a piece of his heart.”

As the race progresses, you both watch in awe as Charles’ navigates the twists and turns of the circuit. Your heart races with every lap, both as a fan and as someone who had come to know the man behind the helmet.

And then, the moment you’d never forget — a triumphant finish, Charles Leclerc taking the checkered flag. The Tifosi erupts into cheers, and during the celebration, you almost swear that Charles’ eyes find yours among the crowd.

Over the radio, his voice crackles through the airwaves, reaching not just the pits but into your very soul. “This one’s for Luca. Keep fighting, champ.”

Luca’s eyes widen, his hand clutching the bracelet even tighter. “Did you hear, Mama? He said it for me!”

Tears well up in your eyes as you nod. “Yes, sweetheart. He said it for you.”

The post-race interview is a blur of emotions. Charles, sweaty and exhilarated, is asked about the race, about his victory. But then he pauses, his gaze distant yet focused, his voice trembling with emotion.

“This win ... it’s for someone very special. A young friend of mine named Luca. He’s fighting a battle much tougher than any race and his spirit, his courage — it’s what carried me through today. Luca, this is all for you.”

***

The roar of the crowd has faded but the emotional high from the race lingers. You, Luca, and Charles head back to the hotel provided by Ferrari with laughter and memories of the day filling the conversation.

However, as the night passes by, a chilling silence envelopes the room. Luca’s breathing becomes shallow, his skin clammy. Panic bubbles up within you. The medical equipment that was always close by in the hospital is absent here.

You rush to his side, your hands trembling as you try to comfort him. “Luca, honey, stay with me. Breathe.”

Charles, witnessing the scene, feels a deep pang of fear and helplessness. “I’ll call for help,” he says, fumbling for his phone.

As you count the seconds for first responders to arrive, Luca’s weak hand reaches out, clutching Charles’ wrist. His voice, barely a whisper, shares a desperate plea. “Charles, if ... if I don’t make it, promise me you’ll look after Mama. She’s strong but she'll need someone.”

Charles, tears blurring his vision, nods, squeezing Luca’s hand reassuringly. “I promise. But you’re a fighter. You have to keep racing, okay?”

Luca manages a faint smile. “Always racing, Charles. Always.”

Emergency services arrive soon, the room transforms into a flurry of medical professionals and machines. Charles wraps an arm around you, pulling you close as you both watched, praying for a miracle.

Hours feel like lifetimes. When the medical team finally manages to stabilize Luca, the emotional toll is evident in every face in the room.

You approach Luca’s bedside, gently stroking his forehead. “You gave us quite a scare, sweetheart.”

Luca, though exhausted, manages a faint smirk. “Had to keep the race interesting, right?”

Charles, his voice choked with emotion, adds, “Every race has its challenges, remember? You faced this one head-on, just like a true champion.”

Luca’s eyes meet Charles’ own, a depth of understanding passing between them. “Remember your promise,” he whispers.

Charles nods, his gaze drifting to you. “Always.”

***

“You know, I’ve seen some tough races,” Charles begins, his gaze distant, “but nothing compares to what I witnessed last night. The strength, the love, the sheer determination.”

You sigh, exhaustion stamped across your face. “Every day is a race. Some days, the finish line feels close, other days it feels miles away.”

Charles takes a deep breath, his voice wavering slightly, “I ... I can’t pretend to know what you’re going through but I want to be there, for both of you. Luca asked me to look after you and that’s a promise I intend to keep.”

You look up, surprised by the depth of his commitment. “You’ve done so much already. You’ve given Luca memories he will cherish forever.”

He moves closer, his eyes searching yours. “It’s not just about Luca. It’s about you too. Through this entire ordeal, the strength you’ve shown, the love … it’s made me see life in a different light.”

A silence envelopes the room, broken only by the rhythmic beeping of the machines monitoring Luca.

“I’ve raced all over the world,” Charles whispers, “but I’ve never met someone who’s touched my heart the way you both have. I want to be there for you, for whatever you need.”

You blink back tears, overwhelmed by the sincerity in his words. “It’s been so long since someone offered to share the load. I’m not sure I know how to let someone in anymore.”

Charles gently takes your hand. “One step at a time. Just like in a race. We face each challenge as it comes, together.”

A tear escapes, trailing down your cheek. “Thank you, Charles.”

He brushes the tear away, his touch lingering. “No, thank you. For letting me be a part of your world and for showing me what real strength looks like.”

***

“Look at that,” Luca murmurs, pointing towards the sunset painting the sky with hues of pink and orange. The three of you sit atop a hill overlooking the city, a picnic blanket spread beneath you.

Charles takes a deep breath, the fresh air filling his lungs. “You know, moments like this make me appreciate life even more. The simple joys, the beauty all around.”

You nod, taking in the serene view. “It’s easy to get caught up in the chaos and forget these moments exist.”

Luca’s eyes shimmer with a mix of mischief and wisdom beyond his years. “You two sound like philosophers. All I know is that this sandwich tastes amazing.”

You chuckle, ruffling his hair. “Always living in the moment, aren’t you?”

He grins. “That's the secret, Mama. We have to savor every bite, every sunset, every laugh.”

Charles, deeply moved, joins in. “You're right, Luca. In the races, I’ve learned that every second counts. It’s the same with life.”

Luca nods earnestly. “Exactly! You can’t rewind time. You can only enjoy it.”

The evening wears on with laughter, stories, and shared dreams. The three of you revel in the simplicity of the moment frozen in time.

As stars begin to sprinkle the night sky, Luca turns to Charles, a serious expression on his face. “Promise me something?”

Charles leans in, listening intently. “Anything.”

“Make more moments like this with Mama, even after ...” Luca's voice trails off, the unspoken words hanging heavily in the air.

Charles squeezes Luca’s hand, his voice thick with emotion. “I promise, champ. Moments full of love, laughter, and sunsets.”

Luca’s watery laugh has tears pooling in your eyes. “You know, when you look at the sunset, remember me. Remember this moment.”

You turn to him, tears now overflowing. “Luca …”

He smiles, a mixture of melancholy and contentment in his gaze. “I may not be here forever but I'll always be a part of these sunsets. A part of you.”

Charles, his voice a gentle whisper, adds, “And a part of me.”

***

“Mama?” Luca’s voice, frail and delicate like the gossamer wing of a butterfly, quivers with fear.

You lean in closer, grasping his hand between both of yours, heart heavy. “Yes, my love?”

He swallows hard, searching your eyes with his own clouded ones. “I’m scared, Mama. I don’t want to go.”

Tears blur your vision but you muster a brave smile for him. “I know, sweetheart. But remember our sunsets? Sometimes, the sun has to set to make way for a new dawn.”

Luca’s fingers weakly grip yours. “But what if it’s dark, Mama? What if it hurts? What if I’m all alone?”

Charles, unable to remain a silent spectator, interjects, his voice cracking with emotion. “You won’t be. It will be just like falling asleep. You’ll have the sunsets, the memories, and all the love we’ve shared. That light will never fade. We will always be here. I promise.”

Luca’s eyes shimmer with tears but also a glimmer of hope. “Will you sing for me, Mama? The song from when I was small?”

Your heart breaks, remembering the countless nights you’d sung him to sleep. Taking a deep breath, you begin, your voice soft and lulling:

“You are my sunshine,

My only sunshine,

You make me happy

When skies are gray ...”

Luca’s breathing slows, his grip on your hand loosening.

“You’ll never know, dear,

How much I love you,

Please don’t take

My sunshine away.”

As the final note leaves your lips, Luca’s chest rises gently one last time, then stills. The room is silent, save for your heart-wrenching sobs.

Charles steps closer, wrapping his arms around you as you crumple into him, your world shattering. “I’ve got you,” he whispers, tears streaming down both your faces.

***

The somber quiet of the funeral is punctuated by the soft cries of mourners. The backdrop of gentle flowers contrast starkly with the weight of the grief in the air.

Charles stands next to you, holding a polished helmet, the vibrant colors of his Monza race-winning headgear gleaming under the sun. He turns to face you, eyes red-rimmed.

“This,” he starts, voice choked, “is my helmet from Monza. The race we won together. He was my co-driver that day, in spirit.”

You take a shaky breath, reaching out to touch the helmet, feeling its cool surface, the memories of that day flooding back. “He would’ve been so proud to have this.”

Charles nods, tears streaming down his face. “And this,” he says, taking the Ferrari bracelet off his wrist, “he held onto it for me once. I ... I want him to have it. To keep it safe.”

You clutch the bracelet, feeling its familiar weight, the leather still warm from Charles’ wrist. “It meant the world to him. And to me. Thank you.”

The two of you stand side by side, staring at the small casket adorned with flowers and memories. The embodiment of a life cut short but filled with love and unforgettable moments.

Together, you place the helmet and bracelet inside, a final tribute to a young racer whose journey had inspired so many.

“He’s free now,” Charles whispers, his voice barely audible. “Racing in the skies, no pain, no limits.”

You nod, tears flowing freely. “Our little champion, forever.”

Charles pulls you into a tight embrace, both of you finding solace in each other’s warmth. The wind picks up, rustling the leaves, carrying with it the memories of a brave soul, forever remembered, forever missed.

***

The familiar crest of the hill looms ahead, the very spot where laughter and dreams once danced in the wind. You and Charles reach the top, the vast expanse of the horizon stretching out before you. The setting sun casts a golden hue, much like that unforgettable evening a year ago.

Charles lays down a blanket, reminiscent of that day, and the two of you sit, lost in memories. The silence isn’t empty — it’s filled with remembrance of a young boy’s laughter, his dreams, his courage. The hole he left behind in your hearts.

“Do you ever feel,” Charles hesitantly cuts through the quiet, “that Luca is still here with us, watching these sunsets?”

A tear slips down your cheek. “All the time. Every time I close my eyes under the setting sun or look up at the sky, I feel his presence.”

Charles takes a deep breath, struggling with his emotions. “I’ve been thinking about a way to honor Luca. To keep his spirit alive.”

You turn to him, eyes questioning.

“A foundation,” Charles begins, “In Luca’s name. To help children with terminal illnesses and their families. To give them hope, love, memories.”

You feel a rush of emotion, a tidal wave of love and loss. “He would have loved that. To know he’s making a difference even now.”

Charles nods, tears rolling down his cheeks. ‘It’s not just about the financial help. It’s about the moments, the memories. The sunsets and the picnics. The dreams and the hopes.”

You intertwine your fingers with his, drawing strength from the bond you’ve forged. “We’ll do it together. For Luca.”

The sun slowly dips below the horizon. As the first star appears, a sense of peace envelops the two of you. In the heart of sorrow, a new purpose is born, ensuring that Luca’s light continues to shine, guiding countless souls out of the darkness.

***

The sun sets in a blaze of colors, casting a warm glow over the hill that has become a symbolic memorial. Charles and you sit side-by-side, hand-in-hand, watching the bittersweet horizon.

A small voice breaks through the silence. “Mama, Papa, why do we come here?”

You turn to your daughter, a smile tugging at your lips. Lucia, with her curious eyes and radiant smile, is a constant reminder of love and life renewed.

“We come here to remember someone very special,” Charles explains gently, his eyes, so similar to your daughter’s, filled with tenderness.

Lucia looks at you both, a hint of understanding in her innocent gaze. “Luca?”

You nod, voice soft. “Yes, sweetheart. Your big brother. We come here to celebrate him, to tell stories about him, and to show him how much we love him.”

Lucia frowns slightly. “But I never got to meet him.”

You stroke her hair, your heart aching and swelling simultaneously. “He’s always with us, in our hearts. Just like you are.”

Charles leans down, wiping away a tear that escapes your eye. “And you’re named Lucia after him, to carry his memory forward.”

Lucia’s eyes light up, smile shining bright. “I’m like a part of him?”

“Yes,” you say, your voice filled with emotion. “A part of him lives on in you. In all of us.”

As the sun dips below the horizon, bathing the world in twilight, you hold each other tightly, a family united by love, loss, and the enduring spirit of a young boy whose legacy lives on in every sunset, every star, and every beat of your hearts.

[siddyyyyyyyy]

Red Knight in Shining Armour

Red Hood x Reader

wc: 1.3 K; part two summary: You ask Red Hood for help from a creep and he does so warnings: cat calling a/n: Something possessed me and I had to write this small drabble. Might consider writing more parts to it, dunno

Finally, you‘ve finished your shift in that overly warm bakery. After taking care of mostly elderly customers, baking fresh goods, and taking care of some more rather demanding customers, you could make your way home. The fresh february air hits you as you step before closing the small bakery, making your way to the busstop. Gotham is not known for warm or sunny weather, especially during the shortest month of the year. This is why you wrap your scarf tighter around you, making sure you won‘t catch a cold with the freezing wind that flies right against you. You eventually reach your desired destination, satisfied the bus is already standing there, possibly waiting for you.

As soon as you reach it, he cheekily drives away and leaves you waiting for the next bus… in two hours.

Now, of course you wouldn‘t wait two freezing hours around eleven PM in Gotham. It‘s probably safer and way faster to just walk the half an hour to your apartment. With that logic, you start trotting home, feeling a little moody now. What kind of bus driver just drives away even when a person clearly walks towards it? Muttering incoherent insults at the bus driver, you make sure to keep yourself warm enough at the same time. Your coat is doing a mostly good job at keeping you from trembling, so does your thick scarf. But you wish you brought your warm hat with you.

You tense at hearing heavy steps behind you. Sure, Gotham is definitely not the safest city, but you never had to actively protect yourself from any dangers because you always had the bus! That goddamn bus is driving you nuts, to the point you don‘t notice the strange man approaching you closer. He‘s about a few feet away from you now, finally raising his voice.

»Hey, princess! Are you lost?«

You finally glance behind your shoulder, not having expected for him to actually be a little closer to you now. Oh, he is taller than you. And has his hands in his pockets. This doesn‘t look good at all.

You quickly turn your head forward again, quickening your steps to get home faster and escape this creepy goon. He doesn‘t relent though and follows you, his hood over his head in a really suspicious way. You turn into a dark alley, cursing yourself internally for needing to go in there in order to get home faster. The alley is dark but also pretty long, as if a neverending hallway. Finally, the alleyway has an opening, walking a little faster again to escape the creep, but you also have to be careful not to slip on some ice.

A flash of red is appearing in the cornor of your eye, instinctively looking over to your side. Without further hesitancy, you hurry to the infamous vigilante and glance behind your shoulder briefly again.

»Red Hood! Please, there‘s someone following me, please pretend to be my boyfriend! Please!«

You plead desperately and stay by his side, your heart racing more from the paranoia of being followed and also from being so close to the real Red Hood, asking for help.

The vigilante doesn‘t flinch from his spot, studying you briefly before looking to the direction you just came from. The scary creep appears now too, eyes trained on you under his hood and possibly not even scared of the Crime Lord standing right beside you.

Without thinking, Red Hood wraps his arm around your shoulder and straightens his posture. The goon finally glances at him before his eyes fall back on you.

»C‘mon, sweetie, aren‘t you gonna spend time with me?« You shake your head urgently and press yourself more into Red‘s side, the hard material of his armour flush against your own soft coat.

»Does she know you?« The man beside you almost snarls, his voice a little distorted from his red helmet. An almost mocking scoff escapes the creep in front of you, staying there with some distance.

»Does it matter?«

A shudder runs down your spine at the words, making Red Hood squeeze your shoulder lightly with his hand.

He guides you to stand more behind him, glaring at the man under his helmet, feeling the strong urge to just beat him up into pieces. Still, he acts without any physical violence, not wanting to scare you even more.

»Listen here, you son of a bitch. Either, you go back the way you came here, or you won‘t recognise your face the next morning. If you‘ll wake up.«

He threatens, which makes the other man take a small step back. He seems to consider something, glancing to you as you still stand behind the vigilante. After what seems like a few minutes of tense silence, the weirdo walks away from you both.

You exhaled relievedly, stepping closer to Red Hood again.

»Thank you so much! You just probably saved my life from him, I don‘t know how to pay you back.«

He looks to you again, his expression unreadable due to his helmet. But he does shake his head and holds one of his hands up lightly.

»No need to, lady. I‘m always here for help, don‘t worry.«

Red feels lightly weird calming down a random person, but he feels like he needs to. After all, he just pried a man – a really creepy bastard – from you. And it feels wrong to ask for something in return for it. He never does that sort of stuff.

»Well, still… You know what? You can visit my bakery, I‘ll give you a treat. On the house, of course!«

He feels surprised at your request, thinking over your suggestion for a moment.

»I‘ll see what I can do.« He pauses before saying goodbye, glancing around the area briefly.

»Do you need a ride home? It‘s not safe around midnight.«

Now it‘s your turn to be surprised, mulling over the suggestion. It‘s only twenty minutes until you‘re back home safely, but you also don‘t want to be a further bother to him. Eventually, you decide to be truthful.

»I was just planning on walking the last twenty minutes home. I don‘t want to bother you any longer...«

Another sudden wind goes past you, which makes you wrap your scarf tighter around your neck again, the action not going unnoticed by him. Finally, despite his own pride, he suggests taking you home with his bike. You feel star-struck, never having thought someone like him – no, Red Hood would give you a ride home. After saving you, too.

Not able to miss such an opportunity, you agree, and he helps you put on his extra helmet for the quick ride. Luckily, he knows this area of the city well, just needing the name of your address, and he knows which route he needs to take.

»Hold on tight, yeah?« At this point, he muted his comms, as well as the others, not wanting for them to hear you both and the other way around. He starts driving you back to your apartment complex, feeling a small thrill as you sit behind him and have your arms wrapped around his torso. Every time he makes a turn, you hold on even tighter to him, not used to riding a motorcycle at all.

Eventually, after some minutes of driving, you arrive, and he helps you get off the bike. You take off the extra helmet he gave you, ruffling your hair to let it look less messy from the helmet. He watches, taking the helmet from you, and eventually leaves on his bike, but not without memorising your street and face. Just in case.

Finally, you made it home, having a big story to tell your best friend tomorrow morning at work.

»You‘ve got a girlfriend now, Jaybird?«

Dick‘s smug voice chimes into his earpiece once he turns the comms on again.

»None of your business, Dickhead.« Jason grumbles back, earning a brief scolding from Bruce to use their callsigns again.

←MASTERLIST

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

mixed-matched socks | s.r. x pregnant!fem reader

“look out! laundry downpour, ahhh!” you indoor screamed as you slowly dumped the freshly dried clothing over a lying annabeth. her high pitched screeching bursted your eardrums, but were quickly muffled by a shirt and jacket. her little fingers and toes wiggling like worms in her clothing dirt.

“how’s it feel?” spencer asked as he plucked her baby face free of cotton. her smile, that spencer insisted was yours, pushes her cheeks into her eyes causing them to disappear. “like a group cuddle,” she practically sighed in content.

grabbing a random top, one of annabeth’s cartoon kittens tees, you got to work separating the fabrics. “miss bethie, could you look for anyone of your clothes and place them here. this is your pile responsibility.”

“okie dokie,” and she crawled through spencer’s button ups and some of your summer dresses, holding each new piece of clothing in the air, declaring victory before dropping it to her pile. you and spencer worked through and over her to make your own piles, spencer would iron his clothes and you would steam yours.

“all…done!” she gave a bounce to the bed causing her to wobble and both of you quickly shooting your arms out to prevent any accidents. “careful baby,” spencer gently chided. “let’s cross cross apple sauce,” lightly tapping her calf. she plopped her little body down, her pile tipping to the side.

“let’s do some folding. do you know how we fold?” spencer asked annabeth while you started to work on steaming your clothes. “i only see, not do.” her palms patted her knees.

“that’s okay, its real easy.” spencer grabbed one of his sleep shirts for a demonstration. “just hold it up like this, then push the sides in like this then fold. all done.”

you looked over to see annabeth holding a pastel blue top up, her fingers pinching the shoulders as she stared it down. spencer’s larger hands atop hers to guide her through the simple formation, he helped with a few more then she did one all on her own.

“easy peasy, lemon squeezy.” she hummed to herself.

“wanna fold daddy’s socks? he likes when you mix-match them.” wanting her to do another task to keep her occupied and get the chores done quickly.

she looked to spencer, matching brown eyes gleaming into each other, “can i?” asking excitedly. spencer kissed the top of her head, “of course, sweetie. makes my work day brighter.”

annabeth is used to doing the socks, the action simple for her tiny chubby hands. it was her first task once she started to join both of you on this glorious adult chore, always a soft hum under her breath.

it made you look back from before she was around, you doing this alone in your family home with music blaring in headphones, to then sharing a space with spencer and being a bit cautious of crossing a certain line with your knowledge of his germophobia. then one day a shirt got mixed with his wash then a loose sock with yours, then you both were just sitting in the living room watching reruns of doctor who with spencer mindlessly spewed out facts. when you got pregnant spencer would do the lifting of the baskets and you would lay back in your bed going at a slow pace with spencer beside you as he took folded pieces and put them away so you didn’t have to get up a million times.

now it’s the three of you working together with a three month bump barely showing under your lifted tee. something so simple and mundane when you were a teenager that was a tiring chore now shifted into family bonding time, seeing your husband and daughter talk quietly as she held up a pair of dark blue and neon orange socks giggling as she balled them together.

laundry day has become one of your favorite chore days.

-

a/n: inspired by @beansarecooler for an idea they left on a post.