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babyflorencee · 3 days ago

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Lucky in Love

Supersticiousrry x fem!Reader

Harry Styles was, without a doubt, the king of superstitions. He didn’t just follow them; he lived by them. From knocking on wood to avoiding cracks in the sidewalk, Harry was all in. He’d learned all of his rituals from his grandmother, who told him they were essential for living a happy life. And Harry? Well, he was more than willing to believe her, especially now that he had Y/n in his life.

At first, she thought Harry’s obsession with luck was... cute? But then it began to spiral into something else entirely.

It started one morning when Harry rushed into the kitchen, wide-eyed, holding a single sunflower in one hand and a bag of salt in the other. Y/n was sipping her coffee, still half asleep, trying to process why her boyfriend was holding a plant and a bag of salt like they were some kind of holy relics.

“Okay, baby, I need you to listen to me very carefully. This is crucial,” Harry said, dead serious.

“Harry, it’s 7 AM,” Y/n mumbled, raising an eyebrow. “What’s going on?”

“I forgot to throw salt over my shoulder yesterday, and now our relationship might be at risk.” Harry’s face was so sincere it was almost impressive.

Y/n blinked at him, trying to keep a straight face. “Wait, what?”

“The salt!” Harry said, shaking the bag for emphasis. “It’s like, it’s the ultimate protection spell, okay? I can’t—we can’t—be in a good relationship without salt being thrown at least once a day.”

Y/n stared at him, slowly lowering her mug. “So... you're telling me that we could be doomed if you don’t throw some salt over your shoulder?”

“Yes, exactly! It’s tradition,” Harry said with a nod. “But that’s not all. I need to water this sunflower exactlytwelve times before sunset or it’ll jinx our love life.”

“I—uh... What?” Y/n was now holding back her laughter at this point.

“Oh! And if we don’t both say ‘bless you’ three times when one of us sneezes, we could have seven years of bad luck! Seven years Y/n!” Harry added, his eyes growing wide with concern.

Y/n laughed so hard she almost snorted. “Okay, okay! I’ll throw some salt over my shoulder and water the sunflower. But only if you promise not to go around tapping every single corner in the house with your knuckles again.”

Harry froze, his eyes widening in absolute horror. “Wait—what?” He stared at her like she’d just suggested they give up breathing. “You mean... you don’t knock on every corner for good luck? But... but that’s— that’s like the most important part! ”

Y/n raised an eyebrow, trying to suppress a grin. “You can’t actually be serious right now.”

“No, I’m not serious, but this is!” Harry’s face was full of concern as he placed his hands on his hips. “If I don’t knock on every corner, Y/n, it’s like inviting disaster into our lives. It’s the doorway to misfortune, it’s a rule of the universe!”

Y/n bit her lip, holding back laughter. “A doorway to misfortune... right, sure, I get it now.”

Harry, his face pale and on the verge of a meltdown, shook his head in disbelief. “I... I don’t think I can handle that kind of risk. You’re asking me to toss our luck aside." He paused, his gaze sweeping the room as if searching for answers, his expression growing even more dramatic. “How... how is this relationship still standing without you knocking on corners? What kind of dark magic have you unleashed?”

Y/n burst into laughter. "I swear, no magic involved."

Harry exhaled in relief. "Good. Because that's bad luck too. But just to be safe... we're definitely knocking a few corners today. For good measure."

Y/n couldn’t take it anymore. She burst out laughing, rolling her eyes. “Okay, okay! Fine. We'll knock the corners. But only because I love you and don’t want to risk misfortune.”

Harry, his eyes still wide, sighed in relief. “Oh, thank you baby. You really had me there for a second. We can’t mess with the balance of the universe like that!”

Y/n shook her head with a fond smile. “You’re absolutely ridiculous. But I’ll do anything to keep the luck on our side... even if that means I have to go corner-knocking today.”

***

The next day, things got even crazier. Y/n was sitting on the couch in the living room when Harry appeared wearing a very oversized red sock on his left hand. “Baby, what are you doing?” she asked, stifling a laugh.

“I’m wearing my lucky hand-sock,” he explained, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “You just don’t get it. If I wear a sock on my left hand, it brings good fortune. I got a promotion at work yesterday because I did this. So, naturally, I'm going to be doing this every day now.”

“Every day? With a sock on your hand?” Y/n couldn’t contain her giggles any longer.

“Yes,” Harry said solemnly, wiggling his fingers inside the sock. “And you have to do it, too.”

“Wait, what? I don’t even have a sock for my hand!” Y/n protested.

“Doesn’t matter. I’ll get you one. We need both hands covered, or else the balance will be off,” Harry said, clearly dead serious.

Y/n’s heart melted at his ridiculousness. He was the dorkiest person she’d ever met, but it was something she couldn’t resist. She nodded and sighed. “Alright, Harry. I’ll wear your sock. But only because you’re way too cute for me to argue with.”

Harry beamed at her like she’d just agreed to marry him. “Perfect! Now we’re both lucky. And don’t forget, we also need to eat pancakes for breakfast every Sunday. Pancakes are the ultimate guide to good luck.”

“Okay, pancakes on Sunday. Got it,” Y/n said with a grin. “What next, Harry?”

“Well, it’s Wednesday, so we can’t eat tomatoes,” Harry said, his tone firm, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Y/n blinked, baffled. “What? Why not?”

Harry began pacing around the room dramatically, his expression deadly serious. “Tomatoes on Wednesdays?! Y/n, come on! That’s like asking for the universe to smack you upside the head with bad luck. They’re a gateway to disaster! You really want to risk it?”

Y/n raised an eyebrow. “Wait, so eating tomatoes on a Wednesday is like... what? A curse or something?”

Harry stopped pacing, looked her dead in the eye, and shook his head, a mix of exasperation and disbelief in his voice. “Exactly. It’s not just any old bad luck, it’s Wednesday bad luck. You’re tempting fate, and fate? Not a fan of tomatoes on Wednesdays. Trust me.”

Y/n stared at him, her mouth agape . “You’re actually serious right now, aren’t you?”

“Absolutely,” Harry said, his eyes narrowing. “Do you really want to test the tomato gods? Because I’m telling you, we’re better off with a different vegetable. Preferably, one that doesn’t cause, you know, catastrophic consequences!"

Y/n burst into laughter. “So you're telling me I can’t have my tomato sandwich for lunch today because of some ancient curse?”

“Exactly!” Harry said, waving his arms dramatically. “Tomatoes on Wednesdays bring nothing but bad vibes. We can’t risk it, Y/n. We just can't. I care too much about us.”

She couldn’t help but giggle, shaking her head. “Okay, okay, no tomatoes on Wednesdays. Got it. But what happens if we accidentally break this rule?”

Harry looked at her seriously. “Don’t even joke about that. If you eat a tomato on a Wednesday, you might accidentally summon bad luck, and we might end up with spilled coffee, broken dishes," he then let out a gasp, putting his right hand over his mouth, "or worse—”

“Or worse?” Y/n interrupted, trying not to laugh.

“Or worse.” Harry said, nodding gravely.

“Alright, no tomatoes for me today then,” Y/n said, standing up from the couch and making her way over to Harry. She leaned in and placed a quick kiss on his cheek. “But only because I don’t want to anger the tomato gods.”

“It's better to be safe than sorry.” Harry smiled, then did a dramatic twirl and pointed to the door. “Now, we leave, but remember—always step on the right side of the doorframe. That’s the lucky side.”

“Of course.” Y/n rolled her eyes in amusement but followed his lead.

***

A week later, Y/n found herself following Harry around the apartment as he went through his superstitious checklist.

“Alright, now we need to make sure the door’s closed before we go out. It’s bad luck to leave it ajar.” He went around checking every door and window as if the house was an ancient temple that needed to be guarded.

Y/n was trying not to laugh. “And this is all for good luck?”

Harry nodded seriously. “Yes. Trust the process.”

“Okay,” she said, playing along. “Then what do we do if we step on a crack?”

Harry looked at her like she had just asked about summoning a demon. “You don’t step on a crack. That’s like a whole other level of bad luck. You just—don’t.”

Y/n burst into laughter. “What is happening? This is so weird, but also kind of... fun?”

Harry smiled, pulling her close and holding her tightly. “We’re making our own luck, Y/n. It’s not just about superstition—it’s about believing in each other and in the magic we create together.”

Y/n couldn’t stop smiling as she wrapped her arms around him. “Well, whatever it is, I’m starting to think you might be onto something.”

Harry looked at her, his expression full of pride. “See? I told you. The rituals are part of the magic. They work for everything—even our relationship.”

Y/n blinked. “Wait, our relationship?”

Harry nodded, his eyes serious now. “Especially our relationship. I have a whole system in place to make sure our love is always lucky. You know, so nothing can break us apart.”

“Wait, what?” Y/n laughed, though a part of her felt a little skeptical. “Are you serious?”

“Absolutely.” Harry crossed his arms, and smiled. “I’ve got a lot of superstitions about relationships. Like, if we both don’t get enough sleep, it’s bad luck for our bond. And we can never—never—fight on a Wednesday. It’s a curse. Oh, and if we’re ever separated for more than three days, we have to write each other a letter. It’s good luck. It keeps us connected.”

Y/n stared at him, half in awe, half in disbelief. “Okay, I’m not going to lie—that is a lot of pressure for a Wednesday.”

Harry’s face softened, and he took her hand. “I just want to make sure nothing ever comes between us. All these superstitions are like little rituals that makes sure we stay happy together.”

Y/n looked at him for a moment, and then, a sudden warmth filled her chest. She knew it was a bit wild, and way over the top, but the way Harry cared so deeply about making their relationship work made her heart swell.

“Alright, alright,” she said with a grin. “I’ll follow your superstitions. But only if we add a new one—like, ‘No bad vibes in the apartment on Mondays.’”

Harry laughed, clearly delighted, his eyes sparkling, “Deal! See? I knew you’d come around. Lucky socks, salt, lucky charms—soon you’ll be asking for a rabbit’s foot to hang on our door.”

She laughed, rolling her eyes. “I wouldn’t go that far, but maybe we should invest in some lucky socks for real. For next time.”

“Deal!” Harry said, holding out his hand. “Lucky socks it is. But only if you wear them with the green striped ones.”

She shook his hand, grinning. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

As they walked out the door, Y/n couldn't help but feel a warmth spread through her. It wasn’t just about Harry’s superstitions, but how much effort he put into making sure their relationship stayed strong. His belief in these little rituals, no matter how silly, made her smile every time. It wasn’t about magic or luck—it was about the care he showed in wanting to hold onto them. And as absurd as it all seemed, she realized she wouldn't trade it for anything.

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likecr8zy · 3 days ago

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1 : 23 AM | PSH

୨ৎ˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 pairing ; tutor!seonghwa x student!reader || heavily inspired by this ao3 fic || genre : smut ||

tags: dubcon (read at your own risk..) pet names (baby, darling) degrading, kinda a power imbalance (idrk yall..) slight spanking, let me know if i forgot anything || a/n: STILL CANT WRITE SMUT so hop off me.. bai !! ♡︎

REQUEST A DRABBLE / READ MY PAST FICS

the clock ticks steadily in the empty library. you sit, hunched over your laptop with a grimace, reaching out to grip your cup of coffee and take a long sip.

you hated taking linguistics.

this class was the bane of your existence, and you couldn’t seem to figure anything out, you didn’t know how socio-economic status influenced language usage. you hardly knew what socio economic meant.

as you click through your plethora of tabs, you see one tab you opened (in your hour of increasing desperation). “hire a private tutor! call this number ___”

seeing as you had money to spare, and 4 days until midterms started, you decided to hire him.

‘park seonghwa, linguistics tutor!’

just what you needed.

you click your laptop off, checking the time on your phone.

1:23am.

you decide it’s time to pack up and get home, you needed the sleep, seeing as you had a session tomorrow.

you walk into the crowded library seeing people everywhere. your breath hitches as you see a man approaching you. is he ever on campus, you’ve never seen him before.

“hi! are you… Y/N?” the kind man asks.

you stood absolutely frozen.

god was he sexy.

the way his glasses sat prettily on his nose, how plump and pink his lips were, how much his silver hair complimented his eyes. oh and the rings on his fingers, god.

“if you’re not.. i can jus-“

“no no no! i’m sorry, so sorry. i-i am Y/N. are you…”

“park seonghwa! nice to meet you!” he says, outstretching a hand

you grip it tightly, shaking his hand.

god the way his fingers wrapped around yours.. you wished they were around your throat. but you quickly shake yourself out of your thoughts.

“i set up for us over here, come on” he says in a tone that makes your heart flutter. you follow him hesitantly, not knowing what to expect.

and to your shock, he’s got a couple of water bottles and snacks for you both to share.

“take a seat” he says, sitting in the seat opposite of yours.

“let’s get started, shall we? what are you struggling with?” seonghwa says, his slender fingers twirling and clicking the pen.

your eyes fly to his fingers again. the sleek designs carved into the chunky silver rings immediately catching your attention.

“well.. i’m having problems with uhm.. just abstract concepts..” you say, your eyes slowly trailing up his face.

“ahh. that’s quite easy. look, to grasp abstract concepts.. you should start with puzzles, okay? anything for visualization.” he says, reaching over you to write something on the empty loose leaf paper that sat infront of you.

the scent of his cologne.. god it was intoxicating. your eyes follow his slender fingers as he draws out a model for you.

“alright. so what you wanna do is..”

after a few hours of tutoring, you seem to finally grasp the concept. nodding and asking (dumb) questions. seonghwa decides to end the session.

“alright. i think you should be good, one last question though. what are the core components of a language?” he asks, eyes boring into yours.

you shift in your seat.. “i think.. i only remember uhm.. phonology..?”

“come on, y/n-ah. 4 more, you can do it.” he says in a low and unusually sultry tone.

your face heats up, though seonghwa doesn’t seem to notice.

“phonology, morphology, syntax, semantics.. uhm.. and pragmatics?” you blurt, feeling intensely overwhelmed

“atta girl. you got it.” seonghwa says, rubbing your hand softly. “alright, that’s our session.” he says, starting to pack up his stuff.

you sigh softly, packing up your stuff as well.

“c-can i.. schedule a session for tomorrow?” you ask seonghwa nervously

“i’ll be quite busy tomorrow, you’ll have to come to my apartment pretty late, i’ll send you the address.” he says, bidding you goodbye.

as you lay in bed that night, your thoughts dart back to him. god.. seonghwa. the way his fingers twirled that pen around, the way his voice sounded when he praised you..

“atta girl. you got it”

before you could even realize what was happening, your hands drifted down your thighs, lazily running a finger over your (now dampened) panties. his words replayed in your mind, constant scenarios flashing through your head

your fingers rubbed at your oversensitive clit, your head falling to the side as you let out soft moans. you wished that these were his fingers, rubbing you so gently.

you didn’t even know how long it took you to cum, whimpers of his name as you finished.

god you felt so embarrassed. cumming to a guy you hardly knew?

you decided to just let it be, turning over and quickly falling asleep.

the tips of your ears redden as you walk through the snow. the freezing cold snowflakes hitting your face. why would you wear a skirt in winter?

you find his apartment, room 1117 . you knock on the door, hoping he’d answer soon. this cold was biting you.

the door soon slips open. “sorry to keep you waiting” seonghwa says in his soft tone, his eyes dancing over your form before looking back up.

you couldn’t lie and say yours didn’t too. the way his grey sweatpants defined his slender waist. the way his baggy top outlined his figure in the light.

“come on in” he says. you quickly slip your shoes off before walking into his apartment. “i’ll get that for you.” the older says, removing your coat kindly for you. “thank you.” you say softly

“it’s no problem, really.” he says. “follow me”

seonghwa‘s study is just around the corner, two burgundy rolling chairs sit next to eachother at the clear desk. “you can take a seat” seonghwa says with his honey voice.

“wanna get started?” seonghwa asks and you nod.

“alright, that’s the 4 hour mark. let’s take a little break, shall we?” seonghwa says, his slender fingers tracing the spine of the textbook infront of you, his rings clinking together softly.

you nod, your face heating up slightly. “need anything?” seonghwa asks. “uhm.. no not really.. thanks though”

seonghwa smiles at you. “hungry?” he asks, grabbing a tiny clear box of blueberries from a grocery bag on the side of the desk

“just a little bit” you reply, shifting in your seat. “well, have some of these” seonghwa says, handing you the clear, plastic box. “i’ve heard blueberries help with knowledge retention.” seonghwa says matter-of-factly.

“that sounds like bullshit” you say, a slight teasing smile on your face as you pop one into your mouth.

“well we can test the theory.” seonghwa chimes. you pop another one into your mouth, noticing seonghwa scooting his chair tantalizingly close to yours.

“are those blueberries good?” he asks.

“delicious.” you say happily.

“i think i’ll try a couple, too.” seonghwa says before his lips crash onto yours

of course you didn’t expect that, but it was just as you imagined. his soft, plush lips on yours. god it was euphoric.

to your dismay, he pulls away after a bit, licking his lips off to savor that blueberry flavoring. “they’re quite delicious aren’t they?” seonghwa comments. a slight smile on his face

your face is on fire, trying to soothe the heat in your cheeks with a few more of those cold blueberries. “uhm s-seong-“

“come on baby, like you didn’t want it? i saw how you eye’d me up and down when i opened the door.” seonghwa purrs, his voice a low whisper.

“i know you’ve been thinking about me.”

your lips crash back together in a fiery dance of passion, his hands roam your torso and his slender fingers begin to unbutton your shirt.

seonghwa pulls away after a bit, hands frantically unbuttoning your shirt as you see the growing hardness in his pants.

“s-seonghwa..” you stutter, but you don’t stop him, or pull away. “hm darling? do you not want this?” he asks, (and you don’t answer) his hands tugging your shirt off your shoulders, revealing a red, lacy bra. “fuck.” seonghwa groans, his cold, ringed fingers slipping underneath your bra, pinching and twisting at your nipples.

your eyes widen, a soft moan escaping your slightly parted lips. “h-hwa..” you start, but his slender fingers sliding in between your legs cause you to lose your train of thought.

he takes no time to slide your panties to the side and slip a digit in between your folds. you bite back a moan as he slips his finger deeper, the cold silver rings causing your walls to flutter.

“s-seonghwa!” you moan, gripping the arm of the chair as he slides another finger in, pushing them in and out at an unrelenting pace.

the echoing study room is filled with wet sounds, and you and seonghwa’s groans.

“yeah, you like that baby?” seonghwa asks, his tone a sickly sweet hint of faux sweetness. his fingers quicken, causing you to moan loudly, throwing your head back.

“guess i’ll take that as a yes.”

before you know it, he’s sloppily bending you over the clear desk, unbuckling his pants as he lifts your skirt up, a light spank coming down on the supple skin.

you felt dirty.

as seonghwa slid his tip across your folds, slightly slipping it in, causing you to let out a shocked groan.

as seonghwa slides into you, aside from your shared groans, it goes silent.

“you take cock like this all the time?”

your eyes widen, you didn’t expect his words to make you feel some way, but they did.

but seonghwa doesn’t stop there.

“didn’t know miss ‘top of her class’ was such a cockslut. and with your tutor?” seonghwa lets out a dry laugh before starting to thrust into you.

you let out a harsh yelp, his thrusts causing the desk your torso lies on to buck against the wall, causing a sharp banging sound.

“f-fuck. god!” seonghwa moans from behind you, already feeling close to the edge.

you felt nothing but pure bliss.

your eyes shut as seonghwa’s thrusts grow unrelenting, his fingers knotting in your hair. “f-fuck. you’re so t-tight” seonghwa says, his hips stuttering.

seonghwa’s grip on your waist tightens as your knees buckle, a choked but pleasured sob coming out of you as you reach your climax.

seonghwa followed not too far behind, burying himself deep as he shoots his load into you.

he pulls out quickly, sitting down on one of the rolling chairs. you follow suit, his load spilling out of you onto the chair.

“you think you’ve learned the material?” seonghwa says, his beautiful silver hair a mess on his sweat streamed forehead.

“definitely. might need one more session though.”

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez hard hours #ateez hard thoughts #ateez scenarios #ateez seonghwa #ateez fic #ateez x reader #ateez smut

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morgana-larkin · 1 day ago

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Alright, the highly anticipated part 7 of 'Just Tired'! I have to say that I received so many compliments and comments about this series and I'm so happy that everyone is enjoying it so much! Not edited in the slightest and I hope you like it!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Just Tired - Part 7

Warnings: Manipulative relationship (mentioned), swearing, sex references

Words: 4.3k

“Turn that damn thing off!” Melissa yells at the alarm that’s blasting.

“Melissa, that’s your own alarm.” You say with a yawn and she groans before she turns around and turns off her alarm. She then immediately snuggles back into you and you chuckle. “Melissa, we have to get ready for work.”

“Five more minutes please, being held is nice.” She says and you wrap your arm around her and she hums. 5 minutes go by and you rub her arm.

“It’s been five minutes Melissa.” You say gently while stroking her hair.

“No it hasn’t.” She says and you chuckle.

“I’m afraid it has.” You tell her. “It’s just before 6 and I need to get ready if I’m gonna bike to school.” You say before getting up.

“Why are you biking to school?” She asks and you look at her.

“Yesterday you told me to find my own way to school.” You say as you pick out an outfit.

“I forgot I said that. Can you drive us to work?” She asks as she gets up.

“You trust me with your car?”

“I trust you with it more than I trust myself with it right now.” She tells you as she picks out an outfit to wear from her suitcase.

“Alright, I can drive us then.” You say.

“Perfect, is it alright if I go have a shower?” She asks and you nod.

“Go for it.” You tell her and she goes to the bathroom.

You take a breath after she leaves the room. You just shared a bed with your crush as she just split up with her manipulated husband and you’ve known her for a week and a half. You really need to get laid if you keep thinking about her and already have a huge crush on her. You both get ready and then you leave before 7 so you can stop and get some donuts that’ll cheer Melissa up. After you pick up the donuts, you drive you both to work as Melissa happily eats the donuts.

“Here.” She says and feeds you a donut as you drive. You take a bite and you smile as you chew it.

“Chocolate.” You say and she looks at you. “My favourite.”

“I might have guessed that with the fact that you have hot chocolate at home.” She tells you with a smile before she continues feeding you the donut and eating a donut for herself.

You both reach the school and you get out and you see Melissa still sitting in the car so you walk to the passenger side and open the door.

“It’ll be alright.” You tell her and hold out a hand for her. She undoes her seatbelt and takes your hand and you help her up.

As soon as you both walk in you’re being dragged by Barb and brought to her classroom, as well as Melissa who has a donut in her mouth. Melissa takes the donut out of her mouth as Barb closes the door.

“What happened yesterday?” She asks Melissa.

“Barb, we had a whole conversation about this on the phone, remember?” Melissa tells her.

“I remember, but how are you doing and how were you last night?” Barb asks her.

“Been better but I have to put it out of my mind and teach some kiddos.” Melissa says.

“Melissa, you should have taken the day off.”

“I’m fine, and it’ll help me keep my mind off of things. So please, stop worrying about me” She says to both of you before leaving the room.

“How was she last night?” Barb asks you.

“Kept asking for physical touch.” You tell her.

“That’s what helps her mind.” Barb says and hums. “Can I ask you a favour?” She asks you and you nod. “She might want to be clingy today, would you mind if she was clingy with you? You just have to tell you’re ok with any kind of physical touch if she needs it.” Barb asks you.

“I don’t mind, I can’t believe what she must be going through but I want to help her.” You tell her and go to leave the room.

“Y/n.” Barb says and you turn around to face her. “Thank you for helping to take care of her, I know Melissa appreciates it and so do I.” She tells you and you nod before leaving the room. You enter the break room and you see Melissa at the coffee machine making a new batch and you walk up to her.

“Hey Melissa.” You say to her and she glances at you before she pours some coffee in her cup. “If you need anything today then I’m here if you need me.” You tell her.

“Y/n.” She says with a sigh and you keep looking at her.

“I’m just looking out for you.” You tell her and Barb walks in and Melissa steps away from the coffee machine.

“I already told you that I’m fine.” She says, loud enough that the whole room hears and turns to look at her. “In fact I’m better than fine, I mean I couldn’t be anymore fine, I mean I’m fine. Did I mention I’m fine?” She asks and you nod.

“Ya, you did a few times.” You tell her.

“That’s because I’m extra fine.” She says before she grabs her things and heads out the door.

“What was that about?” Jacob asks.

“Nothing, and you heard her, she’s fine.” You tell them before you follow her out and you pass by Mr. Johnson on the way out.

“Interesting.” He says as he watches you follow Melissa down the hallway.

“Melissa.” You call her name as you follow her into her classroom and close the door.

“Y/n, I’m not fine.” She tells you and you walk up to her.

“Do you want a hug?” You ask her and she nods as a few tears slip down her face. You wrap your arms around her and she immediately reciprocates and hugs you back.

“How am I supposed to get through today if I can’t even get through this morning? And morning only started 2 hours ago.” She asks as you pull away from the hug.

“Easy, by looking at your little Eagles, look at those bright little faces of theirs and it’ll put a smile on your face and you know that you don’t want to let them down. Because you’re their teacher and you’ll do anything for them.” You tell her and she looks at you. “Something another teacher taught me last year.”

“Well, she’s right.” Melissa says and sighs.

“Just have to get through until 3pm and then you can cry or be angry all you want, or even not feel anything, totally up to you.” You tell her and she nods.

“Thank you.” She says and you nod.

“Of course, anything for the ginger goddess.” You tell her and she giggles.

“Well can this ginger goddess ask one more thing from you?” She asks and you nod.

“Well physical touch helps me as you know, and I was wondering if, well if…”

“Of course.” You say and she looks at you.

“I didn’t finish the question.” She says and you shrug.

“You want to know if you can ask for touches if you need it.” You tell her and she tilts her head at you. “The first part of the question gave the rest away.” You tell her and she chuckles. She then grabs your hand and you look in her eyes.

“Thank you.” She tells you. “Really.” She adds and you nod.

“If I’m being completely honest, I’m enjoying the physical touches after not getting any for, well, about 5 years.” You tell her and she gives you a confused look.

“The last time I got anything was the first day I moved in with my friend and she gave me a welcome hug.” You tell her. “And that was the last time.”

“Well, I guess we’re both getting what we need out of it then.” She says and you nod.

“I guess so.” You tell her and then you hear students arriving and you look at Melissa before you let go of her hand and you see her looking a bit stressed and you get an idea. “You know, seeing as it’s still the first week and our students seem to be friends with each other, we could do a combined class and watch a movie or do a fun art project.” You suggest and she looks at you.

“I’d love that.” She tells you and you nod before you both walk out of the classroom. You then come back near her and you grab Gracie’s hand who was trying to sneak in Melissa’s class again, before looking at Melissa.

“Your classroom or mine?” You ask her.

“Mine.” She says and you nod.

“Be there after taking attendance then.” You tell her and she nods with a smile before you cross the hall with Gracie who’s complaining. “Let me tell you a secret, Gracie. You’ll actually see your friend again in a few minutes.” You tell her as you enter your classroom.

“Ms. Y/l/n” You hear and you turn around.

“Yes?” You ask and see someone from the front office there. “One of the parents is requesting that their child is transferred to Mrs. Schemmenti’s class.” She tells you and you look at her confused and you see Melissa coming up to you both.

“Which child?” Melissa asks them.

“The student is named Gracie.” She tells you both.

“Well we both know the reason why.” You tell Melissa and she hums.

“Thanks Maia.” Melissa tells the woman and she nods before leaving.

“I’ve been asking for her name since I started and she never gives it.” You tell her.

“They don’t give their names to newbies as they never stay.” She tells you.

“Well I’m staying and I will get my cheek kiss.” You tell her and she shakes her head at you with a smile.

“You’re such a dork.” She says and then walks to her classroom. “See you in a few minutes.” She tells you before entering her classroom.

You enter your classroom and after you take attendance, you get everyone to grab their chair and bring it across the hall to Melissa’s classroom.

“Ok, Ms. Y/l/n’s class, you can place your chair wherever you wish.” Melissa tells them all and you bring your chair right next to Melissa’s and she smiles at you. “Ok now I want you all to get into groups of 2.” Melissa says and you see all the students talking to each other. “Wanna be in my group?” Melissa asks you and you nod.

“I mean we already shared a bed so why not?” You tell her and she chuckles.

“Who isn’t in a group?” She asks and you just watch her interact with all the students as she talks them through the art project before she gets you to give 5 pieces of blank paper to each group

“So they have to draw 10 animals and write the name of them?” You ask her as everyone gets to work and she nods. “Well your students have a huge advantage as you just taught them animals the other day.” You tell her and she winks at you. “You’re playing dirty Schemmenti.” You tell her and then she starts drawing. “What are you drawing?” You ask her.

“A dog.” She says and you snort.

“I don’t know what kinds of weird ass dogs you’ve seen but that’s not a dog.” You tell her and she flicks your knee and you look at her in shock.

“It doesn’t have to be perfect, and I’m not the best artist, just like you.” She tells you as she continues butchering the picture.

“Oh god, give me that, fottere.” You say as you take the drawing and she looks at you and tries not to laugh.

“Did you just swear in italian?” She asks as you fix the drawing and you nod.

“Yep.”

“And how many swear words do you know in italian?” She asks you and you shrug.

“Enough of them.” You tell her and then show her the improved drawing of the dog.

“And you said you weren’t any good at drawing.” She says. “Compared to mine this is actually good.”

“Melissa, I think any of their drawings of a dog will look better than yours.” You tease her and she looks at you wide eyes and mouth open while trying not to laugh.

“You’re sure bold to be teasing me.” She says as she begins drawing something else and you start drawing a monkey.

“It’s easy to tease you, dolcezza.” You say so naturally and she whips her head at you.

“Are you teasing me with that nickname?” She asks you and you shake your head.

“No, I think you’re sweet so I called you sweet, or at least something close to that as I think dolcezza means more dear or doll.” You tell her.

“Dolcezza is a word that can be used to describe sweet or sweetheart.” She says and you smile at her.

“It’s perfect then.” You tell her and show her the picture of your monkey.

“I like it, cara mia.” She says before showing you her picture of a bird.

“Oh, using nicknames as well?” You ask her and she nods with a smile.

“Ok, Tesoro.” You say and she leans back in her chair, crosses her arms, quirks her eyebrows and has a smirk.

“Are you challenging me to nicknames in italian? Cause if you are then need I remind you that I’m Sicialian?” She says

“You’re also American like me, so maybe I am.” You tell her and she smiles.

“How about un accordo?” She says and you look at her.

“What kind of agreement?” You ask her.

“Damn, you know italian more than I thought you would.” She says before looking back at you. “Let’s keep talking but every sentence has to have at least one italian word in it, first one that can’t, loses.” She says and you quirk an eyebrow at her before shaking her hand.

“You got yourself an accordo.” You say and she smiles.

10 minutes pass by and Melissa is looking at you with a smirk. You’re weighing your options out before you sigh.

“Alright I fold, you win.” You tell her and she giggles. “You’re the italian queen.” You add.

“Damn right.” She says and then winks at you. “If it makes you feel better, you lasted 10 minutes longer than I thought you would.” She tells you and you look at the time.

“It’s only been 10 minutes.”

“I know.” She tells you with a smirk and she sees you pouting but that makes her laugh. She then shows you the picture of the horse she drew.

“Not bad, so it’s just dogs that you have trouble drawing?” You ask her and she nods.

“You made it really good though. Why are you good at drawing them?”

“I used to draw my dog all the time when I was growing up.” You tell her as you continue you’re drawing.

“You had a dog growing up?” She asks and you nod.

“I did, a golden retriever. My parents got me her as I was a single child and saw that I did a lot of things by myself.”

“You’re lucky that you’re an only child.” She says. “Siblings are annoying.”

“You have a sibling?”

“I have 8 of them.” She says and you widen your eyes.

“8 siblings?” You ask in disbelief and she nods. “Damn, I thought you were gonna say you have like 1 or 2 siblings, not 8.” You say.

“Well most of them might choose to stop talking to me when they hear I’m getting divorced. My Ma might as well, or at least take me out of the Christmas dinner rotation, which is a huge dishonour in my family.” She tells you.

“Your family just casts people out without a thought?” You ask and she nods.

“I already stopped talking to one of my sister’s after Nana died, she brought one of Nana’s dishes to the wake but did it wrong.” She tells you and you tilt your head and give her a weird look.

“Wait, you stopped talking to one of your sister’s because she brought a messed up meal?” You ask her.

“Well not completely, she left my whole family high and dry when Nana got sick. Then showed up to Nana’s wake with a bad dish, that was the nail in the coffin. Metaphorically as Nana was cremated.” She explains to you. “We didn’t have a pet when I was growing up, although my 8 younger siblings were crazy enough that we didn’t need something else causing chaos.”

“You’re more of an enigma than I am, actually you’re a whole level by yourself.” You tell her and she chuckles.

“And this is the panda, which is spelled p-a-n-d-a.” Gracie finishes explaining her and her friend’s animals.

“Good job Gracie and Nancy.” You tell them and they nod before going to sit down. Just then the bell rings and you and Melissa sit up to round up both the classes.

“I’ll be up front, you should be in the back to make sure there’s no troublemakers as there’s 40 kids.” Melissa tells you and you join the kids at the back of the line.

“Ms. Y/l/n?” One of the students say and you look at him.

“Yes?”

“Why did we have classes with Mrs. Schemmenti’s class?” He asks you.

“For fun. We wanted everyone to get to know other kids in the same grade as them, makes it more fun.” You explain to him.

“But there’s 3 second grade classes.” He says.

“Well we couldn’t fit like 60 students in one classroom.”

“So we’ll have a combined class with Ms. Teagues classroom as well?”

“We’ll have to see.” You tell him and reach the caf.

Melissa makes sure that all the students has a lunch and then she looks over to see you bending down to talk to one of your students before he hugs you and you hug him back. Then you stand back up and make your way over to Melissa before you both walk to the break room.

“What were you talking about with that student?” She asks with a smile.

“He was telling me that he’s glad I’m his teacher this year.” You tell her and she hums.

“The kids already love you and it’s been 2 and a half days? That’s impressive.” She tells you and you smile. “By the way, how old are you?”

“I’m 25.” You tell her and you see her eyes widen.

“Jesus christ, I can’t believe I’m friends with someone who’s 23 years younger than me.” She says and you stop her by walking in front of her.

“Wait, did you just say…friends?” You ask her and it seems like her brain caught up with what she said. “We’re friends?”

“Yes, the teacher who doesn’t make friends with newbies, made friends with one newbie. If you tell the other 2 then I’ll have no problem kicking you out of my life.” She threatens and you smile while nodding.

“Does this mean I can also sit next to you at lunch?”

“We’re not that close.” She says while pushing you out of the way to the door to the break room.

“Melissa, Y/n, did you really do a combined second grade class without me?” Janine asks and Melissa nods. “Why was I excluded?” She complains.

“It’s none of your business short stack.” Melissa tells her.

“But-”

“Janine, just drop it ok.” You tell her as you sit down across from her. She sits back in her seat with a pout and you roll your eyes. “Pouting won’t get you anywhere or puppy dog eyes. I had a dog growing up and I’m now immune to them if a human uses them on me.” You tell her before she sighs.

“It just feels like you’re excluding me even though we’re friends.” Janine tells you

“We are friends but none of this had anything to do with you.” You tell her.

“What does it have to do with then?” Jacob asks.

“It has to do with something that’s none of your business, like Melissa said.” You tell them both and you see Melissa smiling at you. “By the way, Melissa, how’s it going with that dyslexic kid?” You ask her and she looks at you.

“It’s good, I spoke with her and the parents at the end of the day on Monday and they’re happy how we’ll all be helping her.”

“Wait, you and Melissa both have dyslexic kid in your class?” Janine asks you and you shake your head.

“Just Melissa, she got transferred to Melissa’s class. Although that makes 2 kids that Melissa has taken from my class.”

“If you really want then I could have it where Nancy is transferred to your class instead so I can have 20 kids instead of 22.” Melissa tells you. “I mean that’s the only reason that Gracie wants to be in my class is because Nancy is there.” Melissa tells you and you hum.

“I thought you were getting the dyslexic student?” Janine asks you.

“You ask a lot of questions short stack.” Melissa tells Janine.

“It’s not a bad thing to be curious.” Jacob says and Melissa glares at him and he immediately shuts up.

30 minutes later Melissa gets up and she walks out while sending you a text. Once she’s gone you go to her contact and look at the text.

Melissa: Need you

You read and then you look at Barb who nods before you begin packing up your stuff.

“I just remembered I have to photocopy some papers for the next project. I have enough for my class but not enough for Melissa’s.” You tell them and then get up.

“Wait, you’re combining with Melissa’s class for the whole day?” Janine asks and you nod.

“It was only going to be half the day but half of my students are friends with her students. I think they were in grade 1 together. So we thought we’d just do the whole day, have a good afternoon.” You tell them and then leave.

You get to Melissa’s classroom and you see her swinging in her seat. You walk up to her and stop her seat and she looks at you.

“What’s up?” You ask her as you sit in your seat.

“I was thinking about something that Joe told me a few times, that I was lucky that he wants me because no one else will.” She tells you.

“That’s just a downright lie and you both know it. You are the WHOLE package while the only thing he’s got going on for him is his package, and it’s probably not even that good.” You tell her and she chuckles.

“Can I tell you a secret?” She asks and you nod. “At the beginning, sex was good. But for the past 15 years he never made sure I finished, I’ve been having to satisfy myself after.” She tells you.

“Wow, that’s such a let down for you.” You tell her and she hums. “When I have sex with a girl, I always make sure she finishes however many times she wants.” You say and you miss Melissa’s eyes get darker.

“Well all the girls you’re with are lucky.” She tells you and you look at her. You slip your shoes off and then you put your feet on her chair beside her legs and lightly swing her back and forth.

“Maybe you could be lucky too.” You tell her and she quirks an eyebrow at you. “Have you ever been with a woman?” You ask her and she shakes her head.

“Only men as it wasn’t an acceptable thing in the 90’s.” She tells you and you hum.

“Do you want to be with women? Because I know the perfect bar we could go to and many women would be dying to have sex with you.” You tell her and you see a blush reach her cheeks.

“Ok, but-but not this weekend as I haven’t even told Joe that we’re over yet. All I did was pack my things and elbow him in the face. Although I did tell him that I didn’t need him anymore.” She says.

“You could tell him right now, over text.” You tell her.

“Isn’t that a shitty thing to do though?”

“It is, if the person hasn’t been a manipulative asshole for 25 years.” You counter.

“I’ll send him a text after school is done. That way I don’t have to teach a class after whatever he sends back to me.” She says and you nod.

“You might have to go back to my place to get your things as you wanted to stay at Barb’s tonight.” You tell her.

“About that, can I stay at your place for one more night? Barb said she’ll set up the extra bedroom for me tonight but asked if I could stay with you again.”

“Of course, you’re always welcome at my place.” You tell her and she smiles at you.

At the end of the day you’re saying goodbye to all of your students and then Melissa comes up to you when they’re all gone.

“Ready to go?” She asks and you nod before you go and grab your things and head out with Melissa.

Taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta

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#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x oc #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti #fanfic #x reader #lisa ann walter #law #abbott elementary

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burning-omen · 3 days ago

Text

With Everything I Say and Do (part 1)

Jason Todd x Male!reader

(A/n: Unrelated to the fic but I love Jason's fuck ass hair from utrh. Also, this isn't meant to be one specific version of Jason, I pulled from several different canons and also made shit up while writing this. Also, also, peep the title, Brokeback Mountain reference, I know I'm so cool)

Ao3 ver.

Summary: Jason isn't stalking you, stalking would imply something more sinister than what he was doing- he was just...watching you in a completely non obsessive, platonic manner.

W.C: 6,486

Warnings: THIS IS A FLUFF FIC I SWEAR, PTSD, childhood trauma, mommy AND daddy issues (both reader and jason), child abuse, mentions of Jason and Bruce fighting, depressive episodes, anger issues, murders, child death, bombings, canon typical Gotham violence, stalking (affectionate), breaking and entering, Y/n's friends being cringe but I love them so shut up about it, Barbara and Jason being friends, homelessness and being kicked out (reader, pre-fic) mentions of Dick Grayson, Tim Drake, and Bruce Wayne (not really a warning just wanted to mention it), also, I didn't send this to my proof reader beforehand so if you see a fuck up feel free to mention it.

God, you forgot how ridiculous you were in middle school. Reading through your old journal- which had been shoved in a box once it was full, then shoved in another box when you moved out of your parents house-it really just showed that your avoidant tendencies had been festering for far longer than you’d care to admit. Seriously, were you actually that concerned about- you re-read the chicken scratch that was your writing back then, squinting slightly- the fucking moon landing of all things? No, you weren’t, but it had been April 28th and the day before had been a lot. So now you have a passage about the moon landing.

It had been closer to the bottom of the box, covered by old memorabilia from your early teen years. With a trash bag to one side of you and a pile of things you were keeping on the other.

It’s about time you went through it- the box has been sitting under your bed long enough, and really, when were you ever going to need an old hoodie from Gotham City Middle School? Never, so it went in the trash pile. You, of course, got distracted by your diary and have been reading through the pages for the past half hour- you really don’t remember being this edgy- good fucking lord. You flipped through the last couple of pages until you landed on what was supposed to be the blank, white card stock at the back of the book- only to see the word “LOSER” written in big, red letters. You blinked, now who the hell did that? Defacing your perfectly good diary. Under the graffiti, in smaller letters, was “-Jason”

You closed the book. Of course. Who else?

Really. He’s the only other person you’d let have the book long enough for this kind of vandalism to make sense. He’s the only person who your adolescence self wouldn’t have thrown a fit at for touching your property- or making fun of you, even in a joking fashion. You smiled down at the book for a second before tossing it in the keep pile.

You pulled the next item out of your little memory box. It was your senior portrait- sorta. It was just a picture of you in your cap and gown- you’d skipped school the day the actual senior portraits were taken- not intentionally, you just skipped school a lot then, and happened to hop the gate that day- and every other day that week. You were smiling in the picture, but your eyes were far too dark and far too tired, you weren’t standing straight, slouching and leaning slightly- but it was good enough for your mom, so it hung in the living room of your parents house for the next 3 years. She’d tried to put makeup under your eyes, fussing with your hair and your gown until she decided to take the photo as you were. Some days you wonder where that patience had gone- that forgiveness and kindness that she showed to you that day. You sighed, you could reminisce and lament about your parents later, for now you needed to go through the rest of this shit.

You flipped the frame over, bending the little metal pieces back, and taking the picture out. Folding it down the middle and sitting it on your night stand- you’d find a place for it later- the frame went with the rest of the trash.

The box was almost empty- small knick knacks at the bottom, some more clothes, an umbrella- you picked it up, checking for holes in the canopy. It was old, but it was better than any other cheap umbrella you’ve ever had. Resisting the pestering urge to run your fingers over the bronze “J.T” inset in the handle, you set it in the keep pile. The rest of the box was pretty much trash- buttons and pins, crumbled class notes, more school spirit wear, and Gotham High School's Library’s one and only copy of Pride and Prejudice. Oops- you hadn’t meant to take that. Letting out a quiet sigh into your empty room, you thought, ‘oh well’ you doubted they wanted it back after the years it's been rotting- and you really didn’t want it either, it was dirty and had something inappropriate written on nearly every page. An unsalvageable childhood artifact- now bagged up with everything else you deemed trash.

The sun had set hours ago, and it was a weekend- Gotham’s crime scene was always overly active on weekends, and you’d rather not get mugged on your way to the trash shoot-

‘Not like I’ve got anything to give..’

–Still, you sat the bag by your front door. Walking through your dark apartment, the only light coming from the desk lamp in your bedroom, the loud, creaking floor covering the sound of your footsteps. You weren’t afraid of the dark- but you did live in Gotham- so you were more reasonably cautious of the dark than anything. You should be- you’ve had the literal Batman in your apartment before. Why that freak was in your bedroom, you may never know, but he left as soon as you woke up so you decided- after changing the lock on your door and buying a gun and deadbolts for every window and door in your house, that you weren’t going to worry about it.

Even if you’re 90% sure he bugged your place- you’d just have to deal with it. He is Batman- invasive and mysterious is kinda what he does according to the Gotham Gazette.

Back in your room, you shoved everything from the “keep” pile back in the box to be dealt with…eventually. You’ll get to it by the end of the week- probably- no, nope, no more procrastination, you’ll put it away in the morning- after breakfast and a shower.

Kicking your slippers off, stepping onto the freezing, wood floor for just a second before crawling into bed- your heater was broken and the city was just as cold as it always was, so you wrapped yourself in every cover and blanket you had in a nearly successful attempt at comfort. A bit of cold air would seep in every couple of minutes, but you could handle it, at least for the next few days until the building manager is able to get it fixed (turns out it's not just your heater, no it’s everybody's heater. So your entire apartment building is freezing, but you’re freezing together- how touching). You rolled onto your side, sticking an arm out of the burrow of blankets you’d created and turning off the lamp on your night stand, pulling your arm back in as fast as you could to keep any more heat from escaping before settling in for the night.

—

‘Damn, It’s cold out,’ Jason thought for the millionth time tonight, crouching down on the dingy, rusted roof of yet another warehouse- fifth one tonight- watching from the skylight as nothing happened. His helmets night vision didn’t show the slightest hint of movement, not even a fucking rat scampering across the ground. Just like there had been nothing in the last 4 warehouses. At least this one is somewhat familiar- his gaze wandered over to warehouse A-9 for about the hundredth time since they arrived. He knew the night crew was in, only a handful of people occupied a handful of buildings, mostly in the A buildings, where all the important shit was kept- Red Hood and Nightwing, however, were stationed on top of the B-16 building, as instructed.

Rising from a crouch, catching the attention of Nightwing, his knees popped.

“Feeling restless?” He asked.

At first Jason just grunted- obviously- he’s been sitting in one spot for 40 minutes and the hunch that Batman had them working off of seemed to be a dud, but he can’t just leave. He could, Bruce doesn’t control him- but after a few too many dramatic family feuds and attempted (and successful) murders Jason is just really, really fucking tired of constantly arguing and fighting.

He’s “back to being the favorite” Dick had joked a couple times- after he decided that maybe there was some merit to a no-kill-rule, and maybe Tim wasn’t so horrible, the kid’s kinda funny actually, smart as shit too. And Bruce..things were..fine. For the most part. It wasn’t entirely Bruce’s fault- he still held a grudge- the clown lived entirely too long after, but Jason already knew that Bruce had no interest in playing executioner- judge and jury was fine- but he wasn’t going to kill. Jason could understand that, especially after going off the murderous deep end himself- once you start it feels like you can’t stop, like there’s no point in stopping. So sure, he gets why Bruce didn’t- doesn’t make it hurt less though.

“Any word from B?” He mumbled, his voice made robotic and stiff by the modulator in his mask.

Nightwing silently fell back, sitting with his legs crossed, his attention now fully on Jason, “Nothing yet.” he sighed, stretching his arm, a amused grin on his face, “Not trying to jinx it, but I think we finally got a calm night in Gotham, who would of thought-?”

Right on queue, a deafening, blinding explosion went off- about two hundred feet away. Jason barely managed to not be fully knocked off his feet, couching down near his brother, one hand gripping his arm as the aftershock sent strong winds their way- mostly a comfort for Jason, but there was no time to think about that- because what the fuck just exploded and why?!

He glared at his brother through the helmet- and no, Dick couldn’t see it, but he still deserved it.

“See what you did? Now we have to deal with this shit.” Jason said, no real malice in his voice, mostly annoyance that his already long night was about to get even longer.

“Me?” Nightwing gasped.

“Yes, you- stop testing the universe, you know it doesn’t like us.”

The conversation ended there. Jason hopped off the roof, landing in an uncomfortable crouch- ‘My knees were going to be demolished in the morning...’ he thought before heading in the direction of the explosion- hearing Dick following behind him with his near silent landing.

Waking up to a hundred texts and calls was…new. Your friends, people you hadn’t talked to in ages, and most noticeably, your estranged parents. You blinked at the screen as more text rolled in. You decided you weren’t dealing with that. It’s entirely too early. Breaking free of your cover cocoon and rolling out of bed, phone discarded..somewhere in there.

You showered before anything, letting the shower run long enough for the entire bathroom to fill with a heavy fog before stepping in. Taking as much time as you physically could, until your skin was steaming and tinted red from the heat. Not even bothering with a towel as you walked straight back to your room, dressing warmly before flopping back down on your bed. You had a shift today. You used to take night shifts- sleeping through the day like a true night owl. But, in a desperate attempt to regain control over your life after what felt like a never ending downward spiral, you switched to the morning shift.

It was a win-win scenario, really. It paid just as much as the night shift, and you’d have the entire afternoon to yourself, and you would sleep at night, like normal, well adjusted people did.

You had planned on having a serene morning- getting to that box, having a nice well balanced breakfast, then heading to work, but your phone would not stop buzzing. Even under a mound of covers it was distracting as all hell.

“Ok..” You muttered as you dug it out, “What do you want?”

‘Y/n bby if you can see this I love you <3’

‘He’s in a better place now (hell)’

‘PLEASE stop joking like that its stressing me out’

Seems like your friends groupchat, aptly named “Gotham’s prison for whores”, was having quite the morning, hundreds of messages ranging from genuine expressions fear to half hearted jokes.

‘‘Tf are y’all going through???’’ you texted back

A collective group response came instantly.

‘‘He’s alive????’’

‘‘OH THANK FUCK YOUE NOT DEAD’’

“LETSGOOO”

‘‘*you’re’’ you responded without thinking, before fully processing what you’d just read, “why would I be dead??’’

‘‘Dude.’’

You waited for them to continue.

“GHL blew up last night, thought you worked the night shift????’’

Oh.

Ok, so you don’t have a shift today.

“WTF no I switched to the morning shift a couple weeks ago what happened”

“Idk man shit blew up, Nightwing and the red one were out there.”

‘The red one?’ you paused to think of who The Red One was, not even near processing that your job had blown up- wasn’t Robin, he knew that one- and his cape covered most red in his costume anyways. Red Robin, despite his name, his costume was more black than red, and your friend was more likely to call him CondomMan or something, because of his head piece thing.

“Bitch, do you mean Red Hood??”

“IM NOT FROM GOTHAM LEAVE ME ALONE”

Followed by-

“THERES TO MANY OF THEM I CAN NOT REMBER THEM ALL”

You laughed for a second, before remembering that your mother had also texted you and suddenly any joy you felt was sucked away- fuck, why wasn’t she blocked.

“Are you ok?” She asked

“I’m fine.”

Simple, blunt, and definitely not an invitation back into your life. You closed out of her contact and moved onto the mountain of text you still had. How did this many people have your number- how did this many people know where you work- worked, past tense.

After an hour of assuring dozens of practical strangers and distant relatives that you were perfectly fine and no you didn’t need anybody to check on you- you decided to get to the bottom of your sudden popularity. Seriously, none of these people reached out when you got kicked out, or worse, some outright denied you when you asked for help. They weren’t obligated to, but they can’t come around acting like their hearts were absolutely broken and bleeding at your supposed death.

With minimal digging, you figured it out. All you had to do was open any social media your mother had- it’s been, what? 4 hours since she first texted you, and she’s got two dozen posts about you up, with your number and your job posted for the world to see on each one, half of them posted over 5 hours ago, the others posted at random with the latest being only 12 minutes ago.

‘Fuck, this was so her, why the hell would she think this was ok?’

Another way to garner attention and sympathy and now she’s dragging you into it, like sure, you could have been dead, but her text didn’t exactly scream “I’m worried about you”.

You opened your messages with her again,

“Take the posts down, mom. Thanks.”

___

Why was the sun in his face?

Jason made sure the curtains were drawn so he wouldn’t have this problem. Cracking his eyes open he spots his brother- the traitorous bitch- standing by the window, opening the curtains just enough just to peek through. His personal cell phone pressed to his ear, talking quietly to somebody.

“I’ll uh- I’ll go check on him later today Mrs. L/n..”

‘L/n..?’ Jason pushed himself up. ‘Ah, fuck. Please let it just be a god damn coincidence.’

Dick glanced back at Jason, a tired smile flashed across his face. Jason let him stay at his safe house for the night so he wouldn’t have to travel all the way to the manor, or worse, all the way back to Bludhaven. Laying back, Jason continued to listen in to the half of the conversation he could hear.

“No, sorry, of course not- I’ll call him right-” Dick let out a frustrated sigh.

“I will try Mrs. L/n. Right, thanks- bye.”

Despite the nagging feeling he knew exactly who was on the other side of that line, he asked, “Who was that?”

Dick sat on the edge of his bed, another irritated sigh leaving him.

“Remember Y/n?”

Ah, fuck.

“Yeah.” he said, doing his best to give the impression of disinterest and flippant-ness .

“That was his mom- Y/n works over at the GHL Warehouses- well, he used to before last night. His mom wanted to make sure he was ok.”

Jason breathed out- you were fine. He knew you were fine because you don’t work the night shift anymore- when the bomb went off you should have been safely at home, sound asleep, trying to get some rest for your morning shift.

“Is he?” The deception in his voice was blatant this time, his thoughts having drifted to you and away from the mask he had perfected literally a second ago. Dick turned to look at him, a grin splitting across his face. Dick, who was just as much of a detective as the rest of the family, clocked that something was off immediately.

“What?”

“Oh Jason,” He said, all too happy to have been just talking about you potentially getting blown up. “Are you still into him?”

“Get out.” Jason responded, which only made Dick happier.

“You are, aww Baby Bird’s got a little crush-”

“Fuck off, I’m serious.”

Years ago, before his death, Jason had confided in his brother. During a quiet moment in the library of the manor, Jason told Dick that he liked guys, well, one guy, so far. He didn’t know what he was then and doesn't have the energy to label it now, but he does know that at 14 he had a massive crush on a boy his age that he went to school with– which only became a hundred times worse when he actually became friends with said boy. Y/n. You. One of his few attachments outside of his family.

When he came back he didn’t think about you for years, revenge, rage, and violence were the only things on his mind- but when he settled, you popped back into his mind. Just as much of a stalker as the rest of his family, he did some digging on you. It was invasive as hell, as he went through every bit of public (i.e., the stuff that was only slightly illegal to obtain) information about you before asking Barbara for more private(super illegal) information.

Barb- whose closeness to Jason surprised everyone, including themselves (paralleling traumas, they supposed)- was more than willing. Her moral compass was a bit sideways, understandably, but she couldn’t help but “play match-maker” as she had put it. He intentionally ignored that comment from his accomplice.

It’s how he knew about your work schedule, and just about everything else about you- and why he really, really hated your fucking parents.

He was…captivated. It wasn’t love, he didn’t love you. He didn’t even know you anymore.

…

He should check on you, though. Losing your job so suddenly couldn’t have been easy for you. Finding a legal job in Gotham was hard enough as it was- he didn’t want you spiraling, or worse, getting involved with criminals- except for him. He huffed out a short chuckle. He wished you could get involved with him. He was, legally, still very, very dead. And you had no idea he was back. Which he’s somewhat happy for.

He killed…a lot of people, he got his ass handed to him in public by his father, and had lost his shit in PTSD fueled episodes of rage multiple times.

It was better if you stayed as far away from him as possible. Your life was just getting good, you had friends, an apartment of your own, you could probably fuck anyone you wanted- an unsurprising amount of people were into that independent, blue collar thing you had going on- Jason sure as shit wasn’t immune to it. He wouldn’t be mad if you did- you don’t. He has his ways of knowing. (your entire apartment is bugged thanks to Bruce’s almost unfounded paranoia, which was only a bit fair, Jason and Bruce were still on new ground in their… reborn relationship when he broke into your house for the first time, B probably thought he was trying to kill you, which- if it had been any other member of the family- would have been outlandish and entirely unfounded. But it was him, so…yeah, wasn’t really coming out of left field with that one) Which was a surprise, but a relieving one.

Fucking hell, Dick was still looking at him with that stupid smile.

“You’ve got a boyfriend.”

Jason, as he did everytime a conversation steered in a direction he didn’t like, brought up his own death.

“I don’t have anything, Dick, can’t be anything to him if he still thinks I’m dead.”

“..right.”

A moment passed before Dick spoke again, “He’s fine, by the way. Barb sent a list of the confirmed victims earlier. He wasn’t on it.”

___

Fuck Bruce Wayne. No, really. This guy fucking sucked, you hated him and you hated that the only way you’d be keeping your apartment was by signing up for his stupid unemployment program. You’ve reloaded your inbox a dozen times waiting for the confirmation email, after spending hours upon hours reading through fine print and having to dig out your own documents, send proof of unemployment- you’re brand new letter of termination had been emailed to sometime earlier- and digitally signing your signature with your mouse pad and just wading through piles and piles of exhausting corporate bullshit-

You were really sick of this shit, to say the least.

‘It's been five minutes..’ You thought, glaring at your laptop screen.

Trying not to think about how this was literally the only way you’d be keeping your apartment and not go back to living in your car, you reloaded the page again.

And again and again until finally-

“Congratulations! You have been accepted into the Wayne Int…”

You didn’t even need to open the email, the preview told you all you needed to know, a long sigh of relief leaving you as you shut your laptop.

Well, that’s over, now what.

You’ve worked nearly every day since you’ve got this apartment, and when you weren’t working you were either catching up on sleep or, well, that’s it really. Despite planning on “having afternoons to yourself” when you switched schedules, you haven’t actually done anything with those afternoons, cleaning, watching TV, and texting more than anything. Because of course none of your friend schedules aligned for more than a couple minutes a day- usually early in the morning or really late at night.

You breathed in again- looking out the window, you could see the sun just barely peeking over the horizon, mostly hidden by the typical gothic skyscrapers that were found all over Gotham. Another heavy breath, you rolled out of bed, feeling a sudden pang of hunger after neglecting yourself all day.

You didn’t bother taking your phone with you, even though your mother had pretty much announced to her loyal 1,267 followers that you were okay, you were still getting text and calls at random- you needed to take your mind off of all of this for at least a moment, cooking and then maybe a long, long sleep could help. You did a mental coin toss on what to eat, burger or pasta- either would do, really- conjuring up a slow, dramatic coin toss in your head, letting your subconscious decide.

Heads. Pasta it is.

Rummaging through your cabinet until you pulled out the little pot you were looking for, perfect for a single serving. Filling it with water from the sink- completely forgetting for a moment that this was Gotham and you probably should have checked to see if it had been poisoned or tampered with- it was such a common occurrence that there was a whole app for it…Created and funded by Bruce Wayne of course. You sighed for about the millionth time today. That fucking jerk has his hands in everything- can’t even be in your own home without running into the motherfucker.

You huffed, it’d be fine. If there was something wrong with the water you would have seen it on the news.

Putting the pot on the stove, repeatedly turning the knob until the fire lit. Putting a bit of salt in the water as it heated- staring into the pot for who knows how long as bubbles started to form. Thinking about things hurt right now. You lost half of your co-workers, your income, the first thing you felt you earned on your own, and on top of that you had to indirectly beg a man you couldn’t stand for money. It would only get worse from here. That was guaranteed- but you couldn’t spiral- because that would only make things so, so much worse. So, you’d face whatever the next couple of weeks brought with maturity and strength and when it was all over things would be semi-normal.

Hopefully.

You moved to the cabinet and pulled out a half empty box of bowtie style noodles and dumped them into the boiling water- then moved over to the fridge to see if you had any jarred sauce.

___

Barbara was just about the only person Jason actively texted- he didn’t need casual conversation with anybody else, not yet anyways. Roy maybe could have been the exception, but Roy barely responded, Jason doubted he even kept his phone on him.

Leaving his bike in the alley before scaling your building- resting on the roof for a short moment as he texted Barbara.

“Think you can keep B out?”

She didn’t respond instantly, but when she did,

“You know he’s still home, right?”

‘Obviously, Barb’ he thought as he typed out a response

“I’m just checking on him.”

Then,

“He won’t see me.”

“You’re getting bold, thinking of saying ‘hi’ soon?”

No, definitely not. That would be a horrible idea. It would blow up in his face and he’d not only freak you the fuck out but would piss off his entire family (excluding Barbara, and maybe Dick- now that he’s thinking about it Tim would probably have been a good accomplice too- no, he’s not forming a little stalker crew, not gonna happen). It was, definitively, a terrible idea. Even if the infinitesimally small chance that you wouldn’t lose your shit and he was able to have any semblance of a relationship with you was calling his name like no other, he wasn’t going to take that risk. Stalking you- no, watching you in a completely non obsessive, platonic manner, would be all he did- and an occasional breaking and entering. But that was all.

“No” he finally responded.

She sent a sad face emoji back, then a middle finger, then,

“You’ve got 5 minutes.”

That jolted him into action, the sun quickly setting over Gotham as he crossed the building. He’s done this enough times to know just how to get through your window. Using a rope to scale down to the 4th floor windows- stopping right next to yours, closed, but unlocked for once. Good, he wasn’t looking forward to picking the lock.

As quietly as he could, he pushed your window open, cursing at the small creek it made about halfway up. Slipping inside, landing silently on his toes, pausing before pressing forward. Pressed against the wall of your nearly pitch black room, your bedroom door cracked open he could see the yellow-ish light emitting from outside it, he could hear you shuffling around out there, the faucet running for a second, and the ticking of the gas stove as you turned it on and off and on again. You were fine, you were up and active, cooking, not sulking. You were fine.

Mission complete.

Time to go..

He heard you open the fridge, let out a small sigh before closing it.

He leaned closer to the door, peaking through the small opening- your apartment small enough for him to see everything from his place in your room, including you standing in the kitchen standing over a boiling pot of whatever it was you were cooking. Ok, seriously, you were ok, he needs to go- he’s already been here for too long- he’s sure his time is up. You were fine, you are fine.

“Fuck, ow-” You muttered to yourself, barely audible in the already near silent apartment.

He pressed forward again, taking a step, then another, until he was standing just behind the door- half hidden in the dark room, illuminated by the kitchen light.

—--

‘Stupid fucking cheap pot, why the fuck is the handle so hot?’ You thought as you checked your hand for any actual burns. You were fine, but dammit that hurt- first thing you’d when you got a new job, buy better pots and pans- ones that didn’t scorch your hands when you touched the handle. Turning around to face the sink, and run some cold water over your flushed hand-

What the fuck was that.

You paused at the sink. As you turned, you caught a glimpse of something…red. Just barely illuminated, standing in your bedroom.

Your heart dropped to your stomach, a feeling of impending doom washes over you as you turn to stare at whatever it is you just saw. Red and shiny, with stark white eyes- the rest of whatever the hell it was is hidden by the darkness of your bedroom and the door.

A part of you wants to run- out of the apartment and into the street, scream for help at the top of your lungs until either whatever it was caught you, or one of many vigilantes showed up. Unfortunately, you lived in the absolute shit hole that was Gotham- so you were more likely to be an unsolved case than actually get saved. You really, really didn’t want to join the billion of unsolved cases already plaguing Gotham- you had so much more life to live, and shit was just getting good, well- not really but you still didn’t want to fucking die. Shit still could get good in the future! As long as you don’t get murdered tonight.

‘Ok, time to think rationally,’ You thought, eyes still locked on the whatever-the-fuck-it-is standing in the doorway, ‘I’m not dead yet, so maybe it doesn’t want to kill me, maybe it’s..I don’t know, trying to rob me or something.’

Robbed was probably the best possibility, considering all the other things that it could be.

“I do not have any money, I’m poor as fuck I swear, can you please leave?” You tried.

You nearly tripped over your own feet, clambering backwards as the thing moved forward, stepping into the light and-

…

…Somebody is fucking with you, you almost immediately decide as your brain finally processes what you had been seeing this entire time. Fucking Red Hood. Every bit of fear is replaced with frustration and annoyance.

Taking a deep breath, you put your hands over your face, letting out a groan that quickly turns into a small, muffled scream.

Why? Why you? Huh? This is the second vigilante home intrusion you’ve experienced. You weren’t afraid of vigilantes, you had no reason to be- you aren’t a criminal and unlike certain organizations, they actually protect the innocent and whatnot. So, for you at the very least, seeing them was less of a terrifying experience than it was a wonder to behold…as long as they’re not in your fucking house. You just wanted to eat dinner. You just wanted to eat dinner and go to bed and then watch stupid 2000’s shows in the morning. But no Red Hood is in your house, and now your whole night is interrupted and you’re stressed and irritated and you really want to throw the nearest thing at him- but that’s rude and he might actually be here for a reason so you should really get out of your own head and hear him out.

You bring your hands down to your side, take a deep breath, and stare right into the eyes of his helmet.

“What do you want?”

—--

Jason has a very inappropriate answer to that question- he doesn’t say it, he doesn’t even give himself the chance to fully think it. But he does need to find an appropriate answer as to why he was in your house.

“You work at GHL?” He asked, his voice unwavering.

You rolled your eyes so hard he thought they might get stuck in the back of your skull. Fuck, you’ve always had a bad attitude, he hasn’t seen it up close in years. He hasn’t seen you this close in years either. During his…other illegal excursions in your house, he always kept a respectful distance from you, mostly out of fear of waking you up, but also because standing over you while you were asleep just felt…wrong.

You groaned, crossing your arms as your glare set on him.

“Yes, I worked at GHL before it blew up, no, I don’t have anything to do with the explosion, I was here all night, there are cameras in the halls, feel free to check them if you think I'm lying. Is there anything else or can you go now?”

Fuck- uh.

“No.” He said, before he could even come up with a reason why.

“‘No’?!” You were, reasonably, upset by this, “Why the hell not?”

‘Good question,’ he thought.

“I know-” Jason started without actually knowing what he wanted to say, his voice modulator making him sound a lot more sure of his words than he actually was, “-you’ve been very..vocal about your disapproval of the police in Gotham, they were temporarily holding a shipment of weapons and ammo there.”

Accusing you of being a criminal maybe wasn’t the best option, definitely wouldn’t get him into your good graces, but it was believable- his preexisting knowledge of you made it just that much easier, even if you look offended by the accusation.

“So what, you’re stalking me?”

You don’t even know the half of it..

“Investigating you.” He responded sternly.

You nodded, so clearly on the verge of losing your shit, “Right, right, ‘investigating’. I don’t care what you call it, I already told you I wasn’t involved in whatever happened so can you please-”

A sudden, blaring alarm shocked both you and Jason. You stormed back into the kitchen a pot of what was previously edible pasta sauce having been reduced to a soldering, smoking mess. Frustrated mumbling filled the space, you groaned and growled as you grabbed the pot handle with a towel and damn near threw it into the sink, turning on the faucet and letting it run. You turned to him, thoroughly pissed off at this point, so many thoughts and words festering in your mind- probably vulgar and violent- but you said nothing, clenching your fist at him and staring at his mask with an nearly dazed but somehow still enraged expression before turning to handle the fire alarm. Using a towel to fan smoke away from it until it stopped beeping.

Then, you sat on the floor, facing away from him. Breathing deeply, rocking slightly. Jason just stared, there wasn’t much else he could do-

He heard you sigh, the tension in your shoulder reducing until you were slightly hunched over.

“You owe me dinner.” You said, calmly.

Jason blinked behind his mask- that’s it? You were over it? Just like that?

He halfway expected to be yelled at, hell, he’s surprised you didn’t throw the pot at him. But the ability to just calm down wasn’t something that came easily, if at all to Jason.

“I can do that.”

You sighed again, pushing yourself up off the floor. Turning to him, you face tired and your eyes dark- he knows he just made an already hard day even harder for you, he knows the guilt is going to crush him later, too.

“I know you’re just doing your job and all but you’re kinda a jerk, you know that, right?” Your tone was flat and dim, “Look, I don’t know anything about what happened. I’m just…really fucking tired now so can you just go?”

I know

“I believe you.”

You sighed, “Good, I’m going to bed now, good night.”

He watched as you walked past him, your shoulder bumping him and he tried to ignore how his heart clenched at even the briefest touch from you.

“Oh, and-” you glanced over your shoulder at him, “-if you’re going to come back, use the door.”

You didn’t give him time to respond, closing the bedroom door behind you.

He stood in your apartment alone, a minute passes, and then another as he attempts to process what had just happened and just how fucked he was when Bruce inevitably found out. But…

A small smile crept on his face, could have been a lot worse, you don’t hate him, hell, you invited him to come back in a way. Bruce might scream his head off at him and he’d likely be placed under some kind of suspension and heavily monitored for the foreseeable future. But none of that mattered right now, because he’s seen you, he’s talked to you, and suddenly he has a goal.

—-

Last night felt like a fever dream, but you could tell it was real. Early in the morning, when the sun was just barely peeking through your window, there was a knock on your door- your bedroom door. You should have been freaked out by it, but you had a sneaking suspicion that a familiar red jerk was on the other side. Stretching and yawning before getting up, your body was more tired than you realized, feeling heavy and anchored as you dragged your feet to the door. When you opened it, there was nobody there, but a little white paper bag sat on the floor just outside. You looked around, the living room and the kitchen were both empty and the big red jerk was nowhere to be seen.

Taking the bag in your hands, the familiar logo of the 24 hour cafe down the street plastered on it, as well as a note. Taped to the bag, a torn square of paper read,

“Not dinner, but I figured this was close enough.

And I used the door this time. You’re welcome.

-R.H”

And for some stupid, unfortunate reason, you found it charming.

“Fucking stalker..” you muttered, fighting a smile as walked back to your bed with the bag.

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x male reader #jason todd x male!reader #male!reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #red hood x male reader #red hood x male!reader #red hood x you #red hood x reader #x male reader #male reader #x male!reader

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cloudcountry · 3 days ago

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SUMMARY: random word prompts with haru, towa, ren, taiga, romeo, and ritsu!

COMMENTS: ritsu...save me....save me ritsu......save me best lawyer japan will ever see..................save me :((

Haru - Convience

It’s easy to run to his aid when he doesn’t call you. Haru is always chipper and kind, greeting you with a cheery good morning and a slap on the back. He knows you know more than enough now from shadowing him for so long that you can take care of most of the anomalies yourself.

He would never let you near the bulls, though.

Only he is allowed to break every bone in his body and get bitten til he bleeds! That is none of your concern. You’re much too soft and precious for that, he’ll sooner die than let you get in trouble.

So please, won’t you hold his hand when he feels tired? Won’t you always be there for him? He really likes it when you scratch at his scalp like that. Let him rest his head in your lap and breathe, just for a little while.

Towa - Innocent

To be one’s first love is truly an honor, Towa thinks. He finds you so cute, with your warm cheeks and soft smiles, your shaking hands as you give him little bouquets of wildflowers. He giggles and swings you around, kissing your skin over and over until your flesh burns underneath his mouth.

Precious! You’re so precious! You’re each other's first kiss, first love, first date, first everything. Towa couldn’t be more grateful that he gets to experience such a love with you.

It’s an honor that you trust him so much. It makes you so beautiful. You already looked stunning while you were in love, but since you’re in love with him, you look so much better.

Ren - Implication

“Come here and watch me play,” he says.

“Where are you going? There’s still fourteen minutes left of the movie,” he says.

“Why are you playing all the way over there? Do I stink or something?” he says.

Ren is full of subtleties you have to decipher every time you speak to him. He seems almost scared of voicing his desires for you to be near him.

Even when you get near him of your own accord, he calls it sexual harassment. It’s like he does it on purpose just to see you get irritated.

It works.

Contrary to his word, though, he always scoots a little closer to you when you’re near. A slight shuffling of feet when you’re tending to anomalies, a shifting of his leg on the couch, each one is noticeable.

He’s such a silly man. Doesn’t he know by now that you want the same thing?

Taiga - Definite

You stare, unimpressed, at the massive bite mark on your shoulder. The steam from the warming shower slowly rolls throughout the bathroom as you poke and prod at the sharp teeth marks, wondering how the hell you’re going to get them gone.

It was winter, so wearing a jacket would be a given, but hiding it wasn’t the problem. Feeling it was.

And now every time you moved your shoulder, the skin would stretch uncomfortably because your absolute unhinged boyfriend decided to fucking bite you.

You snatch up your phone and send him a quick text about how he needs to chill out and move to set your phone down. Before it hits the counter, it buzzes, and you lift it back up to your face.

Rolling your eyes, you huff. Right, silly you! You forgot being bitten was a definite when in a relationship with someone like him.

Romeo - Perception

Liking Romeo was really, really hard sometimes. Even though he was hard working and very ambitious, two traits you greatly admired, his overbearing attitude was the one thing you hated the most.

You’ll get wrinkles! Fix your eyebrows! Don’t curl your lips like that! That shade isn’t right, try this one! Your chapstick came off! Your skin is flaky right here!

Over and over and over, every flaw you had he would address like it meant nothing. Didn’t he have any manners? You weren’t supposed to talk to people like that, especially your friends.

But...when you sit yourself down at your vanity in the late hours of the evening, you do as he says. You apply your skincare and you’ll do a facemask if you feel like it.

And when you wake up the next morning to his scrutiny and slight nod of approval, you feel lighter inside.

Ritsu - Monarch

There were many words one could use to describe Ritsu. Annoying was one you heard a lot. It was not one you agreed with, however. You’d much rather use words like dependable. Cool. Clever. Impressive. You’d much rather follow him around like a lost puppy, soaking up every word he says with stars in your eyes.

Taiga makes fun of you, asking if you’re ever apart from the other person. Ritsu gets huffy and you just shake your head bashfully. Romeo snorts and calls you a basic bitch, lamenting about how Ritsu has spent so much time with you and yet hasn’t taught you a single thing, to which you reply that Article 230 of the Japanese Penal Code states that one who publicly alleges facts shall, regardless of whether such facts are true or false, be punished with penal servitude or imprisonment not to exceed three years or a fine of not more than 500,000 yen.

This time, Ritsu has stars in his eyes. You eat his pride for you out of the palm of his hand, relishing his beaming smile.

You’ve learned a lot from him.

Every time he calls you his business partner, your heart sings. It’s an honor and a privilege to be with the man you admire most.

And at the end of the day, when the lights are dim and he takes his jacket off, you help him undo his tie. He always reminds you that it’s after working hours and you always shake your head, wanting to stay by his side more than anything.

He gathers you into his arms and holds you, just for a little while, eyes sliding shut as you rest your hands against his shoulder blades.

How beautiful it is, to be special to him, the king of your heart.

#auburn's fics <3 #auburn talks tokyo debunker <3 #tokyo debunker #tokyo debunker x reader #tokyo debunker x mc #haru sagara x reader #towa otonashi x reader #ren shiranami x reader #taiga hoshibami x reader #romeo scorpius lucci x reader #ritsu shinjo x reader #haru sagara #towa otonashi #ren shiranami #taiga hoshibami #romeo scorpius lucci #ritsu shinjo

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levis-poison-is-my-medicine · 1 day ago

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Forget Me Not

A Reiner Braun x Reader fanfic

Crossposted from AO3

Reiner accidentally delivers flowers to the wrong person on Valentine's Day... and that person just so happens to be you.

tags: modern AU, flower delivery guy!Reiner, fluff and humor, silly and a bit thirsty, AruAni make an appearance (word count: 3.5k)

(Moodboard) / (AOT Fanfic Masterlist)

The doorbell rang while you were in the shower. You were just going to ignore it, but then it rang again. And again. Clearly, they weren’t gonna give up. You quickly rinsed out the shampoo and jumped out of the shower.

"Coming!" you yelled as you threw on a towel, then sprinted to the door.

You didn’t know what you’d expected. A postman, perhaps, who wanted you to accept a parcel for a neighbor. Maybe a salesperson of some kind. Definitely not this.

A solid wall of fragrant red. Red roses, hundreds of them, taking up the entire space of your doorframe. You stared at the sight, completely and utterly confused.

"Flower delivery!" said the wall of red in a deep, rich voice. Then it moved towards you, the sweet scent enveloping your befuddled senses. "What the—"

"I know, it’s quite big. Would you prefer me to put it somewhere for you?"

A head poked out from behind the roses, and you realized that there was, in fact, a person behind the humongous bouquet of roses thrust out toward you. Quite a good-looking one at that, with warm, golden-brown eyes that were currently fixed at you with a questioning look.

"Um," you said. "Sure. That would be great."

You stepped aside to make room, and watched in baffled silence as the man carried the rosy monstrosity inside, only then realizing the true scale of the thing. Which didn’t help one bit with your confusion.

"Is that table okay?" the man asked.

"What? Oh. Yeah. Just put it wherever."

"Got it," he said, setting the bouquet down with a low grunt. Without the bouquet covering him, you could see that he didn’t just have a handsome face, his frame was attractive too — broad-shouldered and tall. And here you were with your wet, unkempt hair, probably looking like a drowned rat in a towel. This was just your luck. Thankfully, he hadn’t mentioned your rather unconventional outfit. You weren’t sure he’d even noticed it, as he hadn’t looked up once, still busy arranging the bouquet on the table.

"500 red roses," the man said with a grin. "That’s our most expensive order today. And it’s Valentine’s Day, so we get a lot. Someone must love you very much." He finally looked up at you then, his eyes dropping to your towel for a split second before flicking away again, suddenly very preoccupied with picking up the rose petals which had scattered on the table. Great. So much for making a good first impression. You shook your head, trying to cure yourself from the case of hot-guy-itis which had clearly befallen you and threatened to cloud your rational judgment.

Right. Time to look at the facts. It was Valentine’s Day. Hence the flowers. But it still didn’t explain where this abomination was coming from. Or rather, from whom.

"Does it say anywhere who sent it?" you asked.

The man straightened up from where he had crouched on the floor to pick up some more rose petals. He still avoided looking at you.

"I’m not sure. Think I saw a card in there somewhere. Probably says on there." The man scratched his head. "Maybe you have a secret admirer. Or something."

"Maybe," you said, voice filled with doubt.

His eyes darted to your face, and he cleared his throat as if he wanted to say something, but then didn’t, swallowing thickly instead. You could see his Adam‘s apple move in his throat, your eyes suddenly drawn to the neckline of his green uniform shirt. The first button was undone. You couldn’t stop staring. The hollow of his neck, the surrounding muscles working as he looked down to took out his phone…

"Oh. I almost forgot. Still need a signature for the delivery." Your gaze snapped back up at his words, and you could feel your face flush with heat, like you‘d just been caught doing something forbidden.

He took a step closer, then stopped, awkwardly extending the phone to you from a distance. You took it and quickly scribbled your signature with your finger. God, this was embarrassing.

"Thanks," he said, taking the phone back. When he looked back at the screen, his eyes widened.

"Shit, I’m late for the next delivery. I should go. Sorry about the mess." He sheepishly gestured at the rose petals still scattered on the apartment floor.

"Oh, that’s okay. I’ll clean it up later. After I finish my shower." You smiled, still embarrassed.

"Yeah. Have fun," he muttered, his voice a little hoarse, before practically bolting out of the apartment.

You blew out a breath you hadn’t realized you'd been holding.

"What the hell," you murmured, pressing a hand to your heart. It was beating fast against your fingertips, skipping like a broken record. What were you, a teenager? It had been a while since you’d had such a strong, visceral reaction to a guy. And, of course, the one time you did, you were half naked, and he was delivering you flowers from another guy. Great, just great. And you still had no idea who they could be from.

"Please, anyone but Floch," you mumbled, shuddering at the thought of your pushy coworker.

He’d asked you out as many times as you’d turned him down, but for some reason, he still didn’t get the message, forcing you to repeat it time and time again — a Sisyphean task with no end in sight.

You made your way over to the bouquet to check for the card, finding it hidden at the bottom of the arrangement, tied to the binding paper with a silky red ribbon.

It was made from thick, marbled paper, and the front simply read: you are my sun — beautiful and bright. I revolve around you.

You snorted. So corny. But as you flipped it over to read the rest, your grin faded, giving way to a frown.

Dear Annie, Please accept this bouquet as a symbol of my love for you — 512 roses, one for each wonderful day we’ve been together. Each petal represents a moment of joy, love and tenderness you’ve brought into my life. Someday, I hope, these precious moments will add up to be so many, these days with you become so countless that it’ll be impossible to represent them with roses or gestures or anything else. Even words might not be enough then. But I’ll never stop trying. Forever yours (if you’ll have me), Armin

This bouquet wasn’t for you at all.

You stared in horror at the moments of joy, love and tenderness scattered all over your floor, when it should have been Annie’s. Whoever this Annie was, she likely wouldn’t be happy to know that this heartfelt message had been passed on to somebody else. And Armin, well… You could just tell that he would be completely and utterly devastated by this turn of events. Clearly, he had put a lot of thought into this. And money. If you didn’t do something about this, his hopelessly enamored heart would probably break into tiny little pieces — 512 pieces to be exact, one for every rose paid for but not delivered.

You cursed under your breath, pulled your towel tight, and dashed out onto the street, frantically checking left and right for any signs of the flower delivery guy. But he was nowhere to be seen. No vans, either. You went so far as to check the parked cars at the side of the road, a final act of desperation. But to no avail. He was already gone.

"Shit," you muttered. An old lady walking her dog wrinkled her nose at you. She pulled at the poodle’s leash, making it clear that she deemed you bad company for the dog who had happily run up to you, oblivious to her judgment. You crouched down to pet him out of spite.

What now? As you got up and walked back to your apartment, you contemplated your options. You could call the flower shop and tell them it had been delivered to the wrong address. Only, that might get the cute delivery guy into a lot of trouble. After all, it was the most expensive order of the day, as he'd told you himself, though you didn't know exactly how much that amounted to.

A quick Google search make you gasp. 500 red roses – that was over 2000 bucks. He would lose his job, for sure.

But if you didn't call them, an inconsolable Armin certainly would. Either way, Cute Delivery Guy would be screwed. You couldn't let that happen. You'd just have to lie and make up some excuse.

As you dialed the number of Liberio flower shop, the name of which had been tastefully emblazoned on the card, your phone almost slipped out of your sweaty palms. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe you should stay out of this and leave this up to fate. It had nothing to do with you after all – so what if Armin's and Annie's Valentine's Day was about to be ruined, derailing Armin from his joyous orbit around his bright sun and potentially ending their 512 days of blissful unity. So what if Cute Delivery Guy lost his job, turning him simply into a Cute Guy. He might not be able to pay his bills anymore, but at least he wouldn't have to wear that awful green uniform shirt. (Though on him, it had looked awfully good. Illegally so.)

Who were you to go up against fate? But before you could get yourself into a philosophical debate about determinism and the existence of free will, a woman's voice spoke on the other side of the line.

"This is Liberio flower shop, Pieck Finger speaking. How can I help you?"

You froze, your mouth completely dry.

"Hello?" Pieck repeated.

"Hello. I'm, um... Annie. And I have a question. A bouquet of roses has just been delivered to me, and I was wondering…" You swallowed. "I was wondering whether there was a way of contacting the deliveryman?"

There was a pause on the other side of the line. "May I ask why you'd like to contact the delivery driver? Was there a problem with the order?"

"No!" you exclaimed, your voice high. You cleared your throat. "I mean… No. Everything was fine with the order. More than fine actually. It was perfect. It's just…" You tapped your chin, trying to think of an excuse. You should've thought this through beforehand.

There was a sigh on the other end. "If you're trying to get Reiner's number, I'll have to disappoint you. We don't divulge the personal information of our employ–"

"That's not what this is!" you interrupted, mortified. "It's just that he forgot something here. If you could get in touch with him, he could stop by and get it. While he's still in the area, you know? " You held your breath as you waited for an answer.

Another sigh. "Now that, I can believe. If his head weren't screwed on... Well. You get the idea. Was it his cap again?"

"His cap? Yes. The cap. He left it here." You weren't even sure he'd been wearing a cap at all, but you were grateful for the suggestion.

"A true classic. I always tell him to just keep it on, but he insists it's rude to wear hats inside." You could almost hear the eye-roll. "Anyway, I'll give him a call. He should be there soon to pick it up. I'm sorry for all the trouble."

"It's nothing. Thank you!"

You hung up quickly and tossed your phone onto the table, a huge grin spreading over your face. Fate had been fought successfully. Jobs would be kept and orbits would be maintained. You'd even found out Cute Delivery Guy's name. Reiner. Reiner, who was well-meaning but scatterbrained, forgetting caps and wrongly delivering orders. Reiner, who was probably the cutest flower delivery guy to have ever graced this earth. Giggling, you broke into a little victory dance. Your towel fell to the floor with a soft thud. Oops. Better finish that shower before he came back.

– –

When the doorbell rang this time, you were prepared. For one, you were actually sporting more than just a towel, having opted for a cute outfit that suited you well without seeming too dressed up. You'd also dried your hair and put on some light makeup, keeping it casual. No need for coming on too strong. After that rather dismal first impression, you were determined to at least make the second one good.

You got the door with a smile. And there he was – still cute, even in that grass-green uniform, the shirt hugging his chest in a way that brought out his toned form underneath. You forced your eyes upwards to his face again, where you were met by his golden-warm gaze.

"Hi," you greeted him, already feeling your heartbeat speed up.

"Hi," he said, a little hesitant. "The flower shop gave me a call. Said something about me forgetting something here?" He twisted something in his hands, something green. A cap.

"Yeah… about that." You rubbed your temple. "Sorry about the confusion. You didn't actually leave anything here. I just needed a pretense to get you back here."

"To get me back here?" Reiner raised an eyebrow at you.

You flushed a bit. Could have phrased that differently. "Um, yeah. I didn't want you to get into trouble but… you got the order wrong. That bouquet isn't for me."

His eyes widened. "Shit. Are you sure?"

"Yep. That card was by a certain Armin, thanking me for our 512 wonderful days days together. Think I would've noticed if I had a boyfriend, let alone for that long."

"Oh." Reiner huffed out a laugh. "Guess I got the address wrong. Let me check." He took out his phone, eyebrows drawn together in confusion as he looked at the screen.

"Shit. You're right. Mix-up with the numbers." He scrubbed a hand up through the back of his hair, shooting you a sheepish grin. "Man, I'm such an idiot. Thanks for covering for me, you really saved my ass here. And sorry for the trouble."

"It's fine. Besides, I couldn't let Armin's efforts be in vain. His beloved Annie deserves to witness this grand gesture of romantic sentiment while the roses are still red on this fine Valentine's Day." You gave him a wink.

His grin widened. "Quite the lovebirds, huh. I see you've already grown attached to them."

"Yeah. It's strange, but after reading Armin's heartfelt message to his sweetheart, I couldn't help but become invested. The flowers may be a bit over the top, but the sentiment behind it feels genuine. It was kind of adorable, actually." You smiled at the memory of the cheesy card.

"And I almost ruined it for them," he groaned. "Maybe I should start working as a reverse Cupid. Reiner Braun – destroyer of love and happiness."

You stifled a laugh. "I wouldn't go quite so far. You're here, aren't you? Just in time to save the day."

Reiner nodded. "Yeah, and I should probably get to it. Better late than never, right?" He took a step forward, then hesitated.

You motioned for him to enter. "Come in. I'm y/n, by the way."

"Thanks. I'm Reiner." He brushed past you through the narrow doorway, his arm touching yours for just a split second, but the warmth of it was enough to make your heart flutter. You really were down bad for him.

"I know," you said, trying to shrug off the butterflies swishing around in your stomach. "Already heard of you. Reiner Braun – almost-destroyer of love and forgetter of caps. Quite the reputation you've got there."

He chuckled – a low, rumbly sound at the back of his throat. "You don't have to rub it in, you know."

You pursed your lips. "But it's so much fun."

"Glad to know at least someone's having fun today." But his eyes betrayed his words, shining with amusement.

He walked over to the table where the rosy display of affection was already waiting for him, the card neatly tucked away again at the bottom. You'd tried to move it back to the door earlier, but the thing had hardly budged at all.

Reiner, on the other hand, lifted it effortlessly, the biceps of his arms flexing noticeably underneath his shirt as he carried the massive bouquet towards the door. You swallowed, finding it hard not to stare.

He stopped in the doorway, his face hidden behind the roses. But you could hear the smile in his voice as he said, "Thanks again. I owe you."

Then he was gone.

You looked after him, a little wistful. Should've asked for his number. But as you made to close the door, something green caught your eye – a cap, hanging from the door handle. You smiled. It was the same color as his uniform, with Liberio flower shop embroidered in yellow thread on the front.

Had he left it on purpose? You shook your head, trying to shake off your delusions. He'd probably put it there earlier, when he needed his hands to check the address on his phone, and promptly forgot all about it. Oh well. You didn't mind, if it meant you'd see him again.

– –

The doorbell rang while you were taking a nap on the couch, ripping you from your peaceful slumber. For a moment, you were thoroughly disoriented. You squinted at your phone, trying to find the button to turn off the nonexistent alarm. Then the doorbell rang again. With a raspy groan, you rolled off the couch and stumbled over to the door.

"Flower delivery!" a familiar voice called out as you opened the door.

You blinked at the man in front of you, eyes still blurry with sleep. "Reiner?"

Your eyes fell to the flowers in his hands, a jumble of pink, white and yellow,

extended toward you with a lopsided grin.

"Very funny. You're probably here for your cap?" It had been almost a week since Valentine's Day, and you'd begun to think he'd never show up to collect it.

"My cap?" Reiner asked, a little perplexed. "Oh yeah. That, too, I guess. But it's not really why I came." He glanced down at the flowers still held out to you. "Actually…" He trailed off. "These are for you. To say thanks, and also sorry for the trouble. And for giving you flowers only to take them away again. That was pretty crummy of me, actually."

He shifted his weight, still not looking at you. Your heart melted.

"Oh, that's so thoughtful of you! They're so pretty, thank you!"

You gently took the bouquet from his fingers, holding them up to your nose to take in the smell. "Mm-hmm, they smell heavenly."

"I'm glad you like them," Reiner said, his face breaking into a wide grin. "To be honest, I kinda arranged them myself. Though I'm no florist or anything. But I asked which flowers meant what, and kinda went from there."

"Really?" you asked, taking in the eclectic selection of flowers in the bouquet. It looked a bit chaotic, but the fact he had arranged them himself made it so cute you could explode. "What do they mean?"

"Yellow tulips signify gratitude. Just like the peach roses." He pointed at the lighter shade of the two kinds of roses in the bouquet. "The pink carnations are for apologies. The white tulips too, and apparently they also symbolize new starts. Thought that was fitting. And the pink roses symbolize…" He cleared his throat. "Do you maybe wanna get coffee sometime?"

You bit back a smile. "That's… oddly specific. I had no idea pink roses could mean that. But I'd love to."

"Great, I know a good place." Reiner grinned. "And they definitely mean that. You should take my word for it. I'm fluent in flower language, you know?"

"Sure you are," you said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"It's true."

You raised an eyebrow. "Really. Tell me, then – what's the appropriate flower for when you want someone to remember to take their cap with them this time?"

Reiner smirked, eyes gleaming with a smug confidence. "Easy. Forget-me-nots."

You broke into laughter. "Oh, that's actually perfect. That should be your flower. I'll give you some next time, as a memory booster."

He shook his head, clicking his tongue in mock offense. "Now that's just rude. I'll have you know that I actually have a good memory. I'm just sometimes a bit… distracted."

"Distracted, huh? If that's what you want to call it."

But as you looked up at him, your teasing grin faded into a genuine smile. However much you might poke fun at him about it, you were secretly grateful that he was like that. After all, it had brought him to your doorstep. Now you just needed to invite him in.

A/n: And this ends my silly little fic for the Valentine's Day prompt of @fromriches-tosin's cute AOT bingo <3 It's the first story I did for Reiner, and I'm thinking about maybe doing more for him in the future (he's actually one of my favorite characters.) Let me know what you think!

Credit: The cute forget-me-not divider is by @saradika-graphics!

Tag list: @nironasaran, @shakysif

If you'd like to be tagged for future works, follow this link to join my tag list (or send me a DM). See you <3

#reiner braun #reiner braun x reader #aot #attack on titan #reiner braun fluff #snk #shingeki no kyojin #reiner #reiner aot #reiner x reader #reiner braun x you #reiner braun x y/n #reiner x you #fluff #fanfic #fanfiction #aotbingo2025 #aruani

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bunnib4b3s · 2 days ago

Text

Rafayel- Last Minute Gifts

Synopsis: With Thomas on his ass, he totally forgot to get something for MC to show that his love goes beyond her being 'just' his bodyguard. In a rush to get his gift done, with ribbons and wrapping paper strewn everywhere you stumble upon him.

Genre/ Warnings: 18+, Fluff, Friends-to-Lovers, Coworkers-to-Lovers, Smut, Cunnilingus, Fingering, Porn-with-Plot

MDNI

Word Count 2,000+

Raf did not have a sense of urgency at all. Twenty missed calls from Thomas, his phone on silent, and yet, he still couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that he was forgetting something. He had already completed the underpaintings for all his artwork for the upcoming exhibit—so why did he feel like there was something else, something important, slipping through his fingers?

With a frustrated sigh, he flipped open his sketchbook, idly running his fingers over the well-worn pages. His eyes traced the lines of various sketches—each one of you, captured in different poses, different moods. Some were rough, quick gestures; others were detailed studies, the kind he poured hours into, shading every contour with the softest touch.

Then it hit him.

His stomach dropped.

"Shit."

Valentine’s Day.

And not just any Valentine’s Day—this was supposed to be the day. The day he finally told you how he felt. The day he gave you something that said everything he hadn’t yet been able to put into words.

Panic shot through his veins. He had spent so much time agonizing over how to confess, how to make it special, that he had completely forgotten to actually prepare something. The idea of just blurting it out without anything to show for it made his skin crawl. He needed something—something meaningful.

His gaze snapped back to the sketchbook, heart pounding. The answer had been in front of him all along.

He didn’t have time to second-guess himself. Grabbing a blank canvas, he worked quickly, paint and charcoal smudging his fingers as he poured himself into each stroke. The world outside faded away—his only focus was you.

The minutes ticked by in a blur of color and movement. He barely registered the mess he was making—ribbons, wrapping paper, and discarded sketches littered the floor as he scrambled to finish.

Then—

Footsteps.

The door creaked open.

His stomach flipped as he looked up and saw you standing there, taking in the scene: the chaos, the half-finished painting, the way he was very obviously hiding something behind his back.

“…Raf?”

He froze, heart hammering against his ribs. His mind raced for an excuse—any excuse—but all that came out was, “…This isn’t what it looks like.”

Your gaze dropped to the mess of art supplies and ribbons at his feet. Then to his paint-smudged hands. Then to the telltale canvas peeking out from behind him.

You crossed your arms, a teasing glint in your eyes. “So… what does it look like?”

He swallowed hard. He could lie, brush it off as nothing. But looking at you now, standing there with that curious tilt to your head, that knowing smile—he realized he didn’t want to hide it.

With a slow, deep breath, he turned the canvas around, revealing the painting.

It was you. Not just any painting—this was different. More delicate, more deliberate. The way he captured the light in your eyes, the softness in your expression—it was raw, vulnerable, honest.

Your lips parted slightly, eyes flickering over the details. “Raf…”

His pulse roared in his ears. “I—” He exhaled sharply, forcing himself to keep going. “I was going to give this to you. As a—um—a Valentine’s gift.” He laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck, only succeeding in smudging more charcoal on his skin. “And, you know, maybe… finally tell you that I—”

You stepped closer, gaze locked on his, and suddenly, the words he’d been terrified to say didn’t seem so impossible anymore.

Maybe—just maybe—you already knew.

The room felt smaller, warmer, the air thick with something unspoken. You reached out, fingertips skimming along the edge of the canvas before meeting his hand. The touch was light, hesitant—but the way his breath hitched, the way his fingers curled instinctively around yours, sent something electric pulsing between you.

"You spent all this time drawing me," you murmured, voice softer now, more intimate. "Was it because you were too scared to tell me how you feel?"

Raf swallowed hard. His lips parted, but nothing came out. His pulse hammered against his skin as you took another step forward, closing the space between you.

The scent of paint and charcoal clung to him, but underneath it was him—warm, intoxicating, unmistakably Raf. Your free hand lifted, thumb brushing against a stray smear of charcoal on his cheek, and his breath stuttered.

"I—yeah," he admitted, voice barely above a whisper. "I didn’t know how else to say it."

You tilted your head, fingers still lingering against his skin. "And now?"

His gaze dropped to your lips. His restraint was hanging by a thread.

"Now," he murmured, stepping forward so that your bodies nearly touched, "I think I'm done waiting."

His hand came up, cupping your jaw, and then—

His lips crashed into yours.

It was hungry, desperate, months—years—of pent-up tension unraveling all at once. His grip on you tightened as he pulled you flush against him, his other hand threading into your hair. He tasted like breathless anticipation and something impossibly sweet, and when you sighed into the kiss, he groaned, deep and low.

Your fingers curled into his shirt, tugging him closer. The unfinished painting, the mess of ribbons and paper, the forgotten gift—all of it faded, unimportant compared to the way he was touching you now.

"Raf—" you gasped against his mouth, but he swallowed the sound, pressing you back against the nearest surface, hands roaming, exploring, finally claiming what he'd wanted for so long.

"I should've done this so much sooner," he muttered against your skin, trailing heated kisses along your jaw, down your throat.

You laughed breathlessly, tugging at his shirt. "Then don't stop now."

His answering grin was nothing short of wicked.

"Not a chance."

Raf's hands slid under your shirt, his fingers tracing the curve of your waist as he pressed you harder against the wall. Your head fell back, exposing more of your neck to his hungry kisses. He nipped at your pulse point, drawing a soft moan from your lips.

"God, I've wanted this for so long," he murmured against your skin, his voice husky with desire.

You tugged at his hair, pulling him back up to capture his lips in another searing kiss. Your tongues danced as hands roamed, exploring newly exposed skin with reverent touches.

Rafayel broke away, breathing heavily. His eyes were dark with want as they raked over you. "Are you sure about this?" he asked, his thumb caressing your cheek.

In response, you grabbed the hem of your shirt and pulled it over your head in one fluid motion.

His eyes widened, drinking in the sight of you. His gaze lingered on the curve of your collarbone, the swell of your breasts, the smooth expanse of your stomach. He swallowed hard, Adam's apple bobbing.

"You're beautiful," he breathed, voice filled with awe.

His hands skimmed up your sides, leaving goosebumps in their wake. You shivered at his touch, arching into him. His fingers danced along the edge of your bra, teasing.

"Can I...?" he asked, eyes searching yours.

You nodded, pulse quickening as he reached behind you to unclasp your bra. It fell away, and Rafayel's breath hitched. He cupped your breasts reverently, thumbs brushing over your nipples. You gasped at the sensation,

Your gasp turned into a low moan as Rafayel's skilled fingers continued their exploration, teasing and caressing. He lowered his head, replacing one hand with his mouth. His tongue swirled around your nipple before he sucked gently, sending waves of pleasure through your body.

"Raf," you breathed, fingers tangling in his hair.

He hummed against your skin, the vibrations making you shudder. His free hand slid down your stomach, fingers dipping below the waistband of your pants. You whimpered in anticipation as he slowly unbuttoned them, sliding the zipper down torturously slow.

Raf's lips trailed back up to your neck, nipping and sucking as his hand slipped inside your underwear. His fingers found your slick folds, and you both groaned at the contact.

"You're so wet, so perfect for me.

His fingers moved with agonizing slowness, teasing and exploring. You whimpered, hips canting forward, desperate for more friction. He chuckled softly against your neck, the sound sending shivers down your spine.

"Patience," he murmured, nipping at your earlobe.

But patience was the last thing on your mind. You tugged at his shirt, needing to feel his skin against yours. Understanding your urgency, Raf stepped back just long enough to pull it over his head before pressing against you once more.

Your hands roamed over the planes of his chest, tracing the lines of muscle. When your fingers brushed over a particularly sensitive spot, Raf's breath hitched. You filed that information away for later.

His lips found yours again as his fingers continued their ministrations, building a delicious tension low in your belly.

Raf's mouth, unable to contain the pleasure building inside you. His hand moved faster, his lips and tongue keeping pace with the movements of his fingers.

You were lost in a sea of sensations, each touch and kiss sending jolts of electricity through your body. You couldn't remember ever feeling this way before, so consumed by desire and need for another person.

As his fingers found their mark and you felt yourself reaching the edge, he pulled away from your lips and looked into your eyes. His own were dark with lust, but also filled with tenderness.

"I want to make love to you," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

Without hesitation, you nodded. Rafayel helped you out of the rest of your clothes before shedding his own. As he settled on top of you, skin against skin, he kissed every inch of your body with reverence.

The heat between you intensified as Rafayel's lips blazed a trail down your body. His hands caressed your curves, mapping every dip and valley as if committing them to memory. You arched into his touch, desperate for more.

He paused, hovering above you. His eyes locked with yours, filled with a mixture of desire and vulnerability. "Are you sure?" he whispered, his voice husky and warm.

In response, you pulled him down for a searing kiss. "I've never been more sure of anything," you breathed against his lips.

With a groan, he entered you slowly, giving you time to adjust. You gasped at the sensation, feeling deliciously full. He stilled, pressing his forehead against yours, both of you savoring the moment.

Then he began to move, setting a languid pace that had you clutching at his shoulders. Every thrust had you seeing stars, the pleasure building with each movement. Raf's name escaped your lips in a continuous stream as he brought you to the edge and over it again and again.

He held onto you tightly, his own release close. With a final thrust, he buried himself deep inside you and spilled his seed. You both rode out the aftershocks together, clinging to one another as if afraid to let go.

Afterwards, Raf rolled onto his side beside you, pulling you into his chest. You rested your head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart.

"That was...amazing," you said, still trying to catch your breath.

"It was," he agreed, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

You stayed like that for a while longer, basking in the afterglow of your lovemaking. Eventually, reality started creeping back in and with it came a sense of unease.

"What happens now?" you asked softly.

Raf turned onto his side to face you, cupping your cheek in his hand. "What do you want to happen?"

"I don't know," you admitted, feeling uncertain about how this would all work out.

"All I know is that I want to be with you." Firmly pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

You couldn't help but smile at his words. "I want that too."

And just like that, all of your worries seemed to disappear. You had no idea what the future held for the two of you but for now, being in each other's arms was enough.

As if reading your mind, Raf pulled you closer and whispered against your hair. "I promise I'll do everything in my power to keep us together."

#rafayel smut #lads smut #love and deepspace smut #rafayel x mc #lnds smut #rafayel lads #rafayel love and deepspace #love and deepspace #lads rafayel #rafayel x reader

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starguardianniom · 2 days ago

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Not gonna lie I'm still really pissed above and beyond about Gabriel's wish at the end of season 5.

Especially since he's being able to do it and instead wish for something else entirely anyway.

Like, for 5 seasons he wanted to bring back Emilie so Adrien could have his mother again.

He ends up instead going to join her in the afterlife and let Nathalie take care of Adrien instead.

He selfishly decided to not give Adrien back his mom but instead make him an orphan and have someone else do the job for him just so he could be with his love, so his feelings mattered more than Adrien's I guess. Given all the talk about Adrien needing his mother, oh well he can keep Nathalie instead. He could have legit healed Emilie and brought her back in Adrien's life and given what we see in Werepapas she seems to have been nice and just wanting her family together rather than obsessing over magical jewels and getting back her health, clearly the only adult in the house with reason.

Heck, Nathalie was dead in the end, he brought her back so he could simply go without remorse with Emilie.

I kind of hope that even if he's dead, he still went in hell separating him forever from Emilie.

Because honestly I doubt that Emilie would take him back in death after knowing what he did.

I feel she wouldn't be proud, as he wasted 99% of his screentime not caring about Adrien much when she wanted him to be there for him and he screwed it up, and if he did, he later took it back, and especially in season 5 where it was more emotional manipulation than love.

Hell I will say Gabriel ain't related to Adrien, he was made from his amok by Emilie and she had him for nine months in herself, Gabriel had no participation in it, unless you count that Emilie used her feelings of love toward Gabriel to create Adrien, but still, I consider him his step dad instead of his dad because one, honestly true that Adrien was made by magic and by Emilie alone with the Peacock miraculous so Gabriel did nothing except giving the peacock to her, whereas Felix was created by Colt, and Amelie also had him for nine months before giving birth to him, so Felix really does have a dad, Adrien doesn't much. Gabriel is married to his mother but he's more like his step dad.

And you know what, after seeing Werepapas, I feel we finally had the real reason for why Adrien was homeschooled, it was to keep Emilie company while Gabriel and Nathalie were trying to find the miraculouses.

That's honestly in equal parts sweet and sad. On one hand he got to be really close to her before her death years later, on the other hand it still made him really isolated from the world and he couldn't really be a normal kid while also being alone with his ill mother and being there the entire time she slowly was dying for his entire childhood and seeing her getting worse over the years, while his dad was too busy trying to save her than trying to spend what little time they had left, that's depressing as fuck.

And Gabriel in the end just ends up prioritizing his own feelings over Adrien's, he dies and let Emilie die and let Nathalie handle the rest without a thought about what she has to say about it, sure Emilie was fine with Nathalie being there for him when she would be gone and I find it sweet, but also, also, still Gabriel's decision just comes from selfishness.

Though I still find it weird, because given season 1 Nathalie seemed like one of the most cold person around, for someone who is supposed to have been motherly to Adrien since he was young, the fact that she decides to just steal Marinette's gift to give to Adrien on behalf of Gabriel when he's angry at her for not making him remember about it, making it also look like she forgot about it and didn't care, and apparently probably also didn't give Adrien a gift herself either, well, it looks weird. Or just the writers forgot that Nathalie was pretty much more an employee and assistant than family back in season 1. Also there's the line where Adrien said that he always gets pencils from his dad so the scarf was a nice surprise, suggesting Nathalie has been secretly giving him pencils in his father's name for years, yeah, weird.

I guess that after using the peacock she tried to make the best with what little time she had left and tried to do right by Adrien.

Probably why Gabriel revived her while he went in the afterlife with Emilie, because she was doing everything he should have toward Adrien, and he knew he couldn't do that, but appreciated that she did, and felt like she deserved another chance and that Adrien would be in good hands with her. That's about the only reason I could see why he changed his wish at the end, because he knew Nathalie redeemed herself while she still had time while he was too far gone, so he decided that he didn't deserves to be with Adrien while she did and thus saved her. Possibly. It's the only selfless explanation that I could give to him for doing that, though I also feels it's still too little too late from him and makes him come across as a selfish, cowardly bastard that just runs away from his responsabilities to happily join his wife in death and let someone else clean up his messes.

#miraculous ladybug #ml speculation #ml salt #ml spoilers #ml analysis #ml sugar #only at the end though #gabriel salt #gabriel agreste #gabriel agreste salt #nathalie sancoeur #ml werepapas #ml s6 spoilers #ml season 6 #emilie agreste

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revive-the-fandom · 2 days ago

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favorite rotg theory?

I honestly forgot most of the theories bc I disagree with most of them tbh. imo most fan theories tend to overcomplicate or villainise/de-villianise characters while completely missing the point.

but this is a positive question so i'll try my best lmao

I think my favourite is probably that Jack lost his memories not because of the Man in the Moon, but because he died. Whether that be because of a resurrection, or because of trauma induced amnesia.

Although, tbh, my personal (related) theory is that Jack never even died in the first place. If we look at his first scene, we can see him let out a breath as soon as he leaves the water

if he'd died of drowing, he'd have to cough up all the water he'd inhaled, or at least not have anything breath left to exhale.

(also, interesting that his breath in this scene is always misty, like its warm. and is like that for multiple breaths, so not necessarily "the last warm breath he had left in him" since he's continuously exhaling warmth. which also implies that Jack is warm-blooded, not cold or undead, but alive.

I'm realising now that I have a lot of theories... idk man, it's kinda hard to pick a favourite when you could debate every point with the same enthusiasm.)

then compare this scene to his memory of falling through the ice

it's so quick for a drowning, which are notoriously fast. Google suggests it takes 3 minutes to drown, which this is well under.

and yes, this is possibly just a cinematic verison of events, sped up for the viewers sakes.

however, what if it's not. what if Jack entered the water, the Man in the Moon saw it, knew that no one in this time period was going to be able to save him, and just sort of put him on pause. suspended animation, if you will, so that he had time to save him as best he could.

This theory is also part of my "the Man in the Moon did nothing wrong" movement.

What evidence do we have that the Man in the Moon has enough power to do anything more than he already does? What evidence do we have that the Man in the Moon didn't drain his powers saving Jack?

The only time in the entire movie that we know he actually, audibly spoke to anyone on Earth was the very beginning where Jack says he told him his name. And even that wasn't audible to the audience! Only Jack heard that, so potentially he could be restricted by any number of things - only being able to speak through mental connections, only to his "creations" or "beneficiaries", only through abstract thoughts.

If we throw GoC into the mix

(which nobody has to, but I like to. I've been vagued before about forcing other people to accept GoC as canon, but I'm not trying to do that and never was. I just like it and want to use it as my canon.)

then we can play with the timeline a little, as GoC canonincally happens "some decades" before the steam train is invented: The steam train is invented in 1784 so GoC probably takes place in around the 1740s.

Jack is 300 ish in 2012, so his "birthday" is probably around 1712. So he was around well before the Guardians even existed (or, well, the group was formed at least. GoC Manny, Bunny and Sandy are millenia old, North is in his twenties/thirties probably and Tooth is a bit of a mystery, so..).

Which means that the Man in the Moon resurrected Jack before Pitch was even woken by Nightlight, and he was presumed dead.

The Man in the Moon only ever communicates through specific mirrors (actually I think they were gongs but basically it functions like a window) in GoC, except for book 5 where they physically go to the moon - but book 5 is weird and breaks the RotG canon so I don't count it - which also lends itself to this theory that the Man in the Moon expended his power resource before GoC. So he couldn't talk to Jack more than he had. Jack would have needed to go find one of these mirrors (one is in the Lunar Lamadry in the Himalayas, I believe on top of Mt Everest????).

GoC also sets the Man in the Moon up to be kind but incredibly distant and unsocialised. He was raised on the moon by his parent's robot servants and only interacted with Earth through their technology. To him being alone is just his normal, so he probably doesn't see Jack's isolation as a that big of a deal.

anyway, sorry that got a bit out of hand. Here are some honorable mentions for theories that I like:

Jack is descended from Katherine and Nightlight (yes this breaks the GoC/RotG canon I just established - this would have to be a different timeline to that)

Jamie is descended from Jack's Sister

Jack's Sister is named Mary (technically confirmed to be true by Joyce - I like the nickname Molly for Mary)

Baby Tooth was granted free will by Jack naming her & will develop & grow more now that she's no longer a part of the collective (I think this originated with @drowningostrich but I'm not sure)

Mother Nature is friends with all nature/element/seasonal spirits including Jack and Bunny

There's a fuck ton of other spirits out there who have their own society that Jack was just largely on the outskirts of (not necessarily an outcast, but more like a forgotten aspect)

#rotg #ask #anon

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oh-no-its-bird · 14 hours ago

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I FUCKING FORGOT THE NEW ALIEN STAGE CAME OUT TODAY OH GOD OH FUCK I SAW IT COME UP IN RECCOMENDED AND HAD A FULL BODY REACTION TO IT PLEASEPLEAS PELSAE GO WATCH IT IM GOING TO FUCKING CRY IM GOING TO FUCKING THROW UP IM GONNA .

youtube

it was so fucking beautiful actually. I did not expect the bright spots of it, though maybe I should have. Vivinos has always been such a master of balancing fluff in a way that makes it hurt. And then the end . just. fuck. fuck. Oh my god. Fuck.

Spoilers below the cut, I am feeling many things and thinking many thoughts, so let's dissect this together:

I was so entranced by the beautiful visuals I straight up forgot to put captions on to get the lyrics for my first watch. But when it opened to Luka smiling so fucking genuinely, I almost gasped

The way he smiles when he first sees her is CRAZY, I am obsessed with it. Only pausing when a literal gun is held to his head, and even then, not for long

And then he grows so much more almost sweet and fond when she so blatantly ignores him. I felt like he was saying, "yeah, that's my Hyuna."

So like. Super strong opening to us seeing Luka killing off what I've seen others claim are his clones, presumably to make sure he can't be easily killed and replaced

I especially like this post by @kitespark talking about this bit and how Luka may have then ended up killing Hyuna's brother bc they looked so similar, and he assumed they were clones

LUKA'S HANDS !!! AS A KID !!! DID NOT HAVE PURPLE FINGERTIPS!!! We also see his hands when he's older, and he also does not have purple fingertips then! Does this mean he got them later in life, after so many experiments? That's what I'm not placing my bets on

The music itself was. Beautiful. As always, obviously, but especially so.

The slow, gentle singing that can be seen as both darkly comforting or sweetly assuring, the almost bell like chimes in the background, I loved it.

When it first shifted to Luka's voice, singing as Hyuna lay on the ground, I just about screamed. Their voices sound so pretty next to each other, I really like hearing them in contrast

Getting to see all these frames of Hyuna just surrounded by people in the resistance was so nice, actually.

I thought it was so well done, how we get to see her gradually get happier, recovering from her past.

Starting with a scene of her alone, drinking, before someone steps in (presumably to bring her comfort in company) before we start to see clips of her, each one with her a little bit happier, and each one with the lighting just a bit brighter, till we finally see her give a fully animated smile, even as we can see the silhouettes of those in the garden inside of her

She learned to smile !! Even through her grief!! She smiled even though she still kept them in her mind and heart!!!

AND THEN LUKA?? HAVING A (WANTED(?)) POSTER??? OF HYUNA ?? IN HIS ROOM??? AND HIM GIVING IT THE WORLDS JERKIEST MOST AWKWARD LITTLE KISS AFTER STARING AT IT FOR AN AWKWARD AMOUNT OF TIME, OH MY HEART !!!

The kiss is so sudden and jerky and awkward and it kind of looks like it hurt, honestly. Like, at first I wondered if it even was a kiss, but idk what else it would even be. Luka misses his girlfriend yall

There's actually so much to dissect of these short frames, tbh. Is this his room, where he is kept on a concerning amount of medical equipment, or is it just a hospital room he's been in long enough to be allowed to put things up on the wall?

And then we get to just. The happiness of the video. Which, by the way, kicked me in the fucking gut and stole all my lunch money. Like, holy shit you guys, what the actual fuck.

There's so much happening here, but in general I've seen two camps:

a) we are seeing glimpses of the actor au, where they are getting ready and into their roles and having silly fluffy fun times

and b, which is what I originally thought) We are seeing them getting ready for their death matches. Preparing costumes for the stage, hoping for the best. And just the lighter times they've gotten to spend together, in the garden

I'd like to believe it's both, tbh. That at first, we're seeing the lighter times they've spent together, getting their costumes ready, singing, running through grass, being kids while they still can.

A few flashes of other people too, in terrible situations but still smiling, showing that there is still joy to be found in this world

And then, a flash of violence-- Mizi, her face splashed with Sua's blood, and the music takes on this crescendo as it shows us this beautiful what if.

Some of the flashes are definitely some sort of modern au, a true what if.

Sua in a school uniform, giggling with a friend on the way to class, Till in art class, Hyunwoo and someone who's presumably his friend riding bikes through a glowing forest, Mizi laughing as she works on something, Hyuna and Luka dancing together on some sort of date (WITH WEDDING RINGS ON !!! WEDDING !! RINGS !!), a phone taking a photo of food better than anything the alien stage contestants have ever gotten to eat before (especially in contrast to the quiet lunch scene only a few images before, which may have been there to contrast it)

Other portions I read as more mis-remembered, 'if only the garden could have been brighter' moments (particularly the one of them cleaning that one aliens teeth, which we saw Till and Mizi terrified of in round 3) but otherwise I think can be seen as just more beautiful moments.

Running around, playing, having fun, laughing

At some point, towards the middle, I had an abstract thought that it was appropriate, to be posted on valentines day. For all that parts of it felt like a love letter to life. Seeing them all so happy, not only with each other but just being. Doing things they loved, being happy, living

I stg, I started tearing up. I love how well animated and bright this section was, you can tell they really said "guys we have to make this shit COUNT" and spared no expense. Everyone say thank you vivinos and qmeng !!

And then, of course, we hard cut back to reality. A quick glimpse of some remembered Luka angst, and we are on stage with Mizi again. Our last glimpse of happiness being Sua's smile.

What the fuck !!!

Ok so just. Everything about the next bit is so good to me.

Luka having eyes for literally nothing and no one other than Hyuna, even as a gun is literally held to his head.

The cutting back and forth between him stumbling blindly her way as an adult and as a child was so good. He has never had eyes for anyone other than her, and it shows

The way Hyuna runs for him, knowing whats about to happen even as Luka remains blind to everything but her, the way she spins him around to take the shot for him in a hug, which, BY THE WAY, THE FACT THAT LUKA WAS REACHING OUT FOR A HUG. MAKES ME INSANE.

LOOK AT HIM !!!! HE WAS REACHING OUT TO HER !!! HE WAS GOING FOR A HUG !!!! HE SAW HER AND RAN AND LITERALLY THREW HIMSELF INTO HER ARMS HE MISSED HER SO MUCH I DONT KNOW HOW TO HANDLE THIS ACTUALLY !!!!

Also its funny that it was the resistance guy who took the shot, I understand his thought process (Luka probably looked like he was going for his boss lmao) but then he ended up fucking shooting Hyuna instead.

I have to wonder if we'll get to see this guys reaction in the next video, I kind of hope we do. I feel like there's a small chance we might, in some like, corner of the screen we see Dewey grabbing him by his collar to shake him angrily or smthn

It's a small thing also, but I like how we also get to see the guy next to Hyuna react to Luka's blatant idiocy. Like, yeah he's being an idiot, and yeah people are around to see it. Idk, it's small but it just makes it all feel more real to me

^ this guy is all of us watching at home as Luka ignores the gun aimed at his head and runs for hyuna lmao

Also, Luka's hands are now colored in as purple when he's a child here, so that may have just been a coloring error earlier. So throw out what I said about his hands not being purple when he was young into the bin, oops!

So then we're back to seeing more flashes of life, and what we are given is Hyuna's grief, and Hyuna's fear.

A man, presumably some resistance member, dying as they cry and watch him pass. And then Hyuna, in the hospital.

The focus on her leg, and then the abrupt cut to what I think must be the moment that she lost it, then again a cut to the round of alien stage she lost (where she was supposed to have died) and another cut to her crying, scared, makes me think we're seeing a sort of rewind of her joining the resistance

Did she lose her leg in her escape from alien stage maybe? Either way, I like this shift from like, we've seen all these good memories of life, and now we're back to the bleak. Hyuna learned to smile, got to heal, but there were still so many dark moments too

Also: I don't know who this guy is, but he's cute and I want him carnally.

AND THEN JUST THE SHIFT FROM CUTE HYUNA AND LUKA TO HER FUCKING BLEEDING OUT IN HIS FUCKING ARMSMSSSSSS IM GONNA BE FUCKING SICK WHAT THE HELL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

And also Luka's fingers are back to being not purple, so was it a miscolor, or...?

And then. Hyuna's speech. This is one of the very few times we get to hear an alien stage character just,, talk. Off the top of my head, the only time I can remember us getting that is My Clematis, the very first round of alien stage. And that talk was half exposition.

It's so well done, and just. Ag. Ah. A.

I dont even have the words tbh!!!

"I resented you so. I had to keep moving forward in every moment... But you were always my one and only weakness. (choking up) That's why I resented you so. Luka, live with love. Embrace the pain, the frailty, and live and the moments so unbearably shameful. Forgive yourself... Again and again, endlessly. because everything... begins from there.

I DONT EVEN KNOW MAN !!! WHAT THE FUCK !!! WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK !!!!

Hyuna admitting that even as she's always resented Luka, he has always been and always remained her weakness, and that is why she continued to resent him so much

Hyuna urging Luka to love. To forgive himself. To feel.

Luka, who we've always seen as untouchable, a man who knows how to play this game-- who has won it before and now plays with his opponents in order to win it again. Just, him tearing up. His mask cracking in the face of Hyuna's words, of her blood on her face (on his hands)

THE FACT THAT IT IS LITERALLY LUKA'S FAULT SHE'S THERE!!!! THAT SHE'S NOW DYING !!!!

Luka has always been blind to everything but Hyuna, and going with some interpretations of how we've seen him do dumb shit just to see Hyuna's face before (specifically when we saw him injure (potentially kill(??)) Hyuna's little brother, then smile up at Hyuna like he was just waiting for her reaction) it is. So fitting that this is how it ends

With Luka, once again blind to everything but the girl who can make him feel something, managing to kill that girl in his blindness

Fucking rip!!

I AM HUFFING COPIUM LIKE ITS PAINT I REFUSE TO BELIEVE HYUNA IS DEAD PLEASEEEE !! YEHA OK SURE HER LIGHT WENT OUT BUT WE WERENT SHOWN THE BODY IT DOESNT COUNT OK IT DOESNT COUNT SHUT THE FUCK UP

AND MEANWHILE MIZI DIDNT EVEN SEE HYUNA GET SHOT BECAUSE SHE'S STILL SOBBING OVER TILL'S CORPSE IN HER ARMS, FUCK

Anyways. Final thoughts.

This alien stage was. Wonderful. Beautiful. It may be my new favorite.

Every second of it was so well done, and I need to applause Vivinos for once again showing off that she knows how to make all of us cry by drawing her characters happy.

What the fuck, man!!

Anyways, I watched most of this without subtitles (and when I did watch with titles, I kept getting distracted by the pretty visuals and couldn't focus) So, I possibly misread/misunderstood a thing or two.

I'm gonna go watch it like 10 more times with subtitles on this time, then maybe realize smthn and feel regret, but, whatever

Go watch alien stage.

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