#i love being able to do this i remember being able to do it for a lot of root and shaw scenes when i was first really into POI

[c0sm1cp0tat0]

Yandere! Saja Boys x Reader

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Accept it. Accept it. Accept....it??

Accept their feelings for you?? But you didn't know how. Did they demand you to reciprocate or merely stop resisting their feelings? You didn't even know WHAT feelings they meant, either.

Did they really like you?? Five of them? Five men, no, demons? That was ridiculous. They must not know what temporary attraction is. Thats why they keep driving you crazy and telling you how they'd die and kill for you.

You stumbled now after your side jabbed into a piece of furniture. You were on the run. On the run as in, through their huge ass penthouse, that is.

"Come on, [Y/N]~ The fans want it, so you can't run from ittt~!!" Abby's voice was like the eery hiss of a very beautifully patterned, very poisonous snake in your ear. He was hot on you heels; he didn't even need to try. Infact, you sussed out that you were actually the only one running here. He was about to catch up to you with just his relaxed strides.

You're wondering what's happening right now? A week ago exactly, you'd signed to be their manager. You were allowed back home-- briefly. But then you were thrown into this quick sand-pit of gigs, fan meets, approving merch. Other things that you could have sworn they were able to do themselves.

You spent more time with them that you ever had when they held you captive. You had a feeling they had a part to play in that.

And somewhere along the way, the fans had sussed out a few things. The prime one being how all five of the members looked at you when you weren't looking. That person they all said they already liked?? I wonder who they guessed that out to be.

The members didn't even care. They'd throw their arms around you in public. Fix you with this 'you're making me feel some typa-way' kind of stare while ON CAMERA. Watch you much too intently as your sorted through paperwork during fan meets. Yes, fan meets, as in the one event in which they're supposed to focus full attention on their FANS.

But the worst thing is, you'd expected the fans to do something. To rage. To demand refunds for the lack of attention. And then the Saja Boys would have to fire you and you'd be free. Instead?? You saw comments under the upload of the meet on Youtube.

"Guys GUYS GUYS. The Saja men are hot n all... but hear me out....THEIR MANAGER."

"Omg yea"

"She's clueless man"

"They're S. M. I. T. T. E. N."

"She's adorableee I wanna carry her in my pockettt"

"TAKES CARE OF THEM SO WELL OMG"

Now, there were things online. Fanart. Fanfiction. Direct messages to you, to the members. Asking if you were together. Asking for something you learned as fanservice.

There were shipwars. Now, Jinu had explained this one to you but you still didn't quite get it. Fans... fighting over...who you looked best with?

There were comments that you had to read through in order to delete the hateful ones.

"OH. EM. GEE. [Y/N] and Abby. have y'all SEEN the size difference?? So cute!!!"

"Dumb bitch, [Y/N] X MYSTERY for LIFE have you seen them?? [Y/N] literally has him on an invisible leash!!"

"I don't know, I think I like Jinu and [Y/N]'s love-hate relationship better. Remember when he hugged her and she called him a melonhead?? ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ XD,"

"HAHA uncultured swines, y'all ever heard of Baby x [Y/N] x Romance??"

"TRY ME, OT6 FOR THE RUN AHHHHH"

You'd shut down the laptop then. It was too late to delete those either way; the PR manager of their company had already seen.

And decided that they could make some bank off of this. And when a higher-up decides that there's money to be made?? You're delusional if you think you're getting away unscathed.

To top it all off, the Saja Boys were all too happy to encourage this shipping nonsense, too.

So here you were, dashing from the truth. Panting, eyes widened. You kept on looking back. You were going in circles around the huge penthouse complex. Through every single room. By now, you were in a full-on sprint. You looked back. Abby was still right behind you.

And you were so busy looking back, you didn't notice the solid chest that you were about to bash into.

"Don't you know we can teleport? Tsk, tsk, tsk." Jinu tutted with a smile, clawed finger coming under your chin and lifting it so that you looked up at him like an angry albeit guilty child.

Ten minutes later you were pushed into a fancy studio. Tried to slip away, was dragged right back.

The professional photographer hired looks you up and down, chewing his gum obnoxiously loud. He had you figured out in seconds.

"Hmmm, not a normal manager are you? Quite young. Not a bad face. Not bad at all." He paused, regarding your tense shoulders. "Relax yourself hun, you're gonna earn in millions for this."

The first reference pose he showed you already had you rushing for the exit.

"Oh no no no you don't." Jinu smiled, grabbing you by the collar and lifting you right off your feet.

"You're our manager now. Keeping the fans happy is one of your commitments. This is one of your commitments."

So now, you found yourself propped upon Abby's lap. Your feet weren't touching the ground. He'd been grinning like a madman as you struggled to climb into his lap and he'd lifted you up, helping you. Now he was all professional. Arm loosely draped around your waist, leaned back. Staring at the camera with sensuality.

Your arms were twitching around his neck, aching to tear away. under your own biceps, you could feel his own, thrice the size of yours and solid as a rock, flexing.

You only realized now how big he truly was.

While you'd lost weight out of stress, he'd become even more beefy in preparation for the photo shoot.

He could feel you slowly start to tremble. Smiling in pleasure, he leaned in, "Don't worry darling, I won't crush you." He knew you were wary of him in particular due to his physique. Such a caution was...how does he say it... fucking adorable.

"Yeessss...yes yes yess give me all that emotion. The anxiety." Photo dude's eyes swivelled to Abby, "The attraction. [Y/N], don't be shy and lean in a bit closer, will ya babe? It's not everyday you get to sit on the lap of a top idol."

But you didn't want to. The photographer was only doing the top half of your bodies, so it couldn't properly be seen that you were on his fucking lap. Your left leg was subconsciously stretching, trying to reach the ground. How would your boyfriend react to this if he were still alive? Your frown deepened.

While the members leaned into fully assess the photos captured, their eyes sparkling with facination, you hung back, wondering if you could make a break for it now.

The next round was just as if not even more appalling. You were hiccuping, feet tripping and sliding against the floor as you tried to book it to the door. Jinu was smiling happily at the concerned-looking photographer. His large hand held the back of your collar, effectively preventing your escape.

"Sorry, she's very shy."

The photographer tuts, almost pityingly, "Oh, darling darling, we can't have this shyness in the entertainment industry...not if you wanna make the big bucks."

The rest of the member's eyes swivelled and darkened as the man smeared lipstick carefully over your rosebud lips.

While you were still fighting the urge to sprint, he had the audacity to even cheer you on "Don't be shy, get that man!!"

So you walked hesitantly towards Romance, hands shaking in tiny fists. He was leaned back lazily on the red velvet sofa being used. One side of his pretty lips quirked up. Lips that were also painted in that same shade as yours.

He beckoned you with a finger. And when you got barely into arms reach, he reached out and snatched you towards him.

"The whole face, he said, baby." The pinkette man almost snarled into your ear, fine brows furrowed cockily as his small smirk grew into a full on wicked smile.

You winced. Romance didn't hold you still or anything. You had to do it yourself. The handsome pinkette leaned in, cedarwood and rose scent engulfing you. His smirk returns, entertained as he notices your knuckles whitening on the couch fabric, stopping yourself from pulling away.

"We don't got all day." The photographer snarked.

Romance had no qualms of speeding it up. His large hands framed your face. At each peck on your cheek, your nose, your chin and forehead, you winced. You were trying not to struggle. But your legs still squirmed in protest. It was so adorable.

Soon, your face was covered in lipstick prints. Romance's eyes began to glow. He shut it down immediately. His marks. All over your pretty little face Fuck.

Click, click, click.

You tried not to wince at every audible shutter of the camera.

"Oh lord, even I would pay for these. Look at the emotions in his eyes."

When it came your turn, Roman actually had to tighten his hold to stop you from shuffling away, "Keep tryna chicken out, huh? Too bad, you can't because you already signed the contract~" It was rasped in your ear.

You shook off his grip, eyebrows tight in frustration and determination. But it wavered way too easily as one of the boys whistled. Probably Abby. "Come on, sweets!! Just like you did to Jinu that night!!"

The photographer looked at the man with wide eyes then looked back to you. You smiled crookedly, trying to appear innocent. But that wasn't going to get you out of this. Nothing was.

So you shut your eyes, and got to work.

When you opened your eyes, Romance was slumped in your arms. Just like your own, every inch of his face was covered in hot pink lip prints almost matching his hair. Mouth in a blissed-out smile. Face heated. It was like he was on something.

The camera shutter went off, "Excellent," The photographer breathed, eyeing the shots with wonder.

Mystery's reference one had you stumbling. "Is this...really okay to publish to fans??"

"Oh, darling," Photography guy chuckled like he knew something you didn't. But you knew something too; that you didn't fucking want to know what he knew.

So you stood, as they put a fucking collar around Mystery's muscular neck. Put a leash on the collar and tied an intricate knot around your wrist with the end of it.

And while Malak looked thrilled at the idea of being tied to you, you shook your wrist, eyeing the ribbon unaffectionately.

"Woah!" Your finger dug into his back when he delves for your neck. You weren't used to such a sensitive place being touched. Your other hand went to his hair, tightening on his scalp.

"That's it, put those big arms 'round her, champ!! Nuzzle your face in a bit more. Nice and tight now!!"

And oh god, the blue-grey haired boy didn't have to be told twice.

You hadn't thought much about it before. But now they were all pressing into you one after the other and you couldn't help but notice how big they all were. Even Baby, the smallest of them all was much taller than you.

"How much longer?" You couldn't help but mumble now, as you sat leaned back against Baby's chest as per the photographer's instructions. His legs were on either side of you. He'd locked them around you at some point and laughed when you couldn't get free. But he did let go. You still couldn't flee though.

"Trés adorable!! Just like that!! Put your arms around her neck!!" The photographer couldn't even hear you. He was gushing over the sight of you two together. You just didn't understand the appeal.

You actually forced yourself to look at the photos this time. They were aesthetically pleasing to say in the least. Though you didn't like the concept, the photographer had made them into a masterpiece. In some shots Beni looked cocky, smiling at you satisfiedly from the back. In others, he looked at you with this...mix of feelings in his eye.

You looked back at him now and he stared back unwaveringly. His lips didn't turn up into that mean cocky smirk or anything as usual. It was his large eyes that spoke to you instead. Just... pure emotions. Vulnerability. Want. Deprivation. He was spilling himself out to you without even speaking. Without even hesitating.

"Last member, honey. Gee-wizz you must be having the time of your life." Photo guy said jokingly but also seriously you didn't know which it was. You hoped it was joke. You were not having fun.

Especially when Jinu grabbed your shoulders and steered you back to the couch.

You were in shorts. you could feel the taut fabric of his pants as photo dude directed you to put your leg over his. You were told to go closer and you hesitated.

"Come onnnn, you kissed me before without hesitation. You're thinking for this??" This guy had a slap with his name on it lined up if he didn't shut up.

It was the second time photography guy's eyes almost popped out of his skull. You scooted closer to Jinu and quickly said, "Jokes, ahaha. Jinu's really funny off camera." You couldn't help but wince. What a lie. Jinu made you do the opposite of laugh. The amount of times you'd held back tears at the idea of being unable to leave their house, god.

His hand was now on your ankle, caressing. Moving up further. Photo guy was drinking this up. "Juuust like that. Keep looking at her like that."

He wouldn't say much about your emotions. Probably because he could read out clearly how badly you wanted to leave from here. You were sick of being surrounded by these male demons. But no one would understand.

⌗☾︎ ‧₊˚ ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶⋅₊˚☽︎⌗

It was almost as if they knew how badly they'd pushed you the last day. Today, you were allowed home while the editors did their work on the shots and the bodyguards alone escorted the boys to their gig.

And it was almost as if your body knew how fucking mentally drained you were. The next minute you got home, you were out cold in your own sweet, sweet bed.

Now, 2pm the next day and you were still dead to the world. Your small form submerged in the sheets. Not silken soft ones from the penthouse, but your own. Mediocre cotton with coffee stains. You were in heaven; a dreamless sleep like no other.

You weren't on alert. You were safe in your own home. Your own personal space.

You loved your personal space. But guess what? The Saja Boys love your personal space too.

While you were passed out still, your front door opened. "Tsk, tsk, tsk. She doesn't even have an extra lock on the door." The low voice of Jinu buzzed in the background.

Baby Saja was the first to find your curled up form, barely taking up half your bed. And yet so comfortably asleep.

"Damn, she's exhausted."

"We worked her to the bone so that she'd stay," Abby shrugged, huge form leaning upon the door frame with his arms crossed.

Romance narrowed his eyes. Was he jealous of your bed? Maybe. His hand closed around one of the bed posts. He shook it hard. The entire bed shook. Self satisfied he stood up straight. "This beds rickety. Unsafe for her."

They were talking so carelessly loud. Mystery wasn't talking but was creating his own racket as he crawled onto the bed beside you. Feeling the sheets, grimacing in dissaproval when he sees they're not soft and luxurious like theirs. But you weren't stirring.

You were on your stomach, small arms closed around your head pillow as you mushed it up close to your face. It wasn't difficult for the boys to admire you like this.

Leaning in, pecking your face, stroking your hair. Running their hands down the dips and curves of your body through the duvet. Enamoured, they were. Good for you, you didn't wake up and notice.

"Wakey wakey baby~ We got pizza. It's your favourite; BBQ chicken." Jinu smiled, running his hand through your hair. Never had they seen you in such a state of peace and calm and vulnerability. Even when you slept over at theirs, you forever looked high on alert. Eyebrows knitted together, mumbling as if you were attempting to repell these demons even in your sleep.

You stirred, and turned over, still dozing. They watched, calmly. Until Abby, the more thoughtless and callous of them all, scooped up your small form into his arms. He liked having you against his muscles like this. It was a fixation for him at the moment; how pliant and clueless and soft you were between his arms.

It was a small of a thing as an all-too-familiar ghost of breath against your neck that had you jolting awake. You opened your mouth for a curse but your throat was all closed up from sleep.

You scrambled away and sat up, rubbing your eyes. You chose to ignore the way you were woken up, "How do you know my favourite-??"

They exchanged looks. They may or may not have looked under your car seats for takeaway bills and learnt the contents off by heart.

They wanted to tell you, but they shrugged instead. "All humans like pizza. And these just seemed to be popular toppings."

You walked straight past them to the bathroom, yawning as you did so. They sighed in relief. Thank god you were too tired to give them second thoughts. At the same time they wanted your thoughts though. Seconds, thirds, all of them.

You were an angelic little thing. All flushed cheeks and droopy eyes. Voice husky. Unable to even comprehend what they were saying properly because you were too disoriented. It was the first time they got to see what you were really like after an actual deep sleep. You were fucking ethereal.

In a loose knit sweater and the smallest fucking sleep shorts, you were walking sin and had no idea about it.

Mystery smiled, ringed fingers stroking against the coarse fabric of your pillow. It was an immense joy that filled him as he watched you obliviously walk into the bathroom. He was about to make good on your promise to him.

⌗☾︎ ‧₊˚ ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶⋅₊˚☽︎⌗

TAGLIST ༉‧₊˚✧↳ @yumekono @levifiance @amery-benson-cvii @wantstoliveinfantasy @osball @apelepikozume @st3f13ily @little-ponkan @strayharmony943 @lazy-panther @scara-simp69 @p1nkpaperstars @ryuucollapse @tatsuri-zomushiki @crescent-z @wpdarlingpan @natllo @daikiswife @kinichportablecharger @realifezompire @i-am-here3 @daiyanomochi @elevenbts @hornehlittleweeblet @reni502 @nonetheartist @sanaxo-o @mshope16 @calmmell @luna-looniesblog @doodle-with-rhy @starr-matterr @fidenciocryptidcreechur @chirikoheina @ceramic-raven @whatdoesthesenpai @megapintofmilkshake @lover-girl009 @yandereaficionado @moon0goddess @neuvilletteswife4ever @hurts-my-brain @consecratedvampire91 @moonchildjae00 @coolnekochan9961 @misdollface

[lomlando]

Oh!

summary: When Kimi asks his teammate an innocent question, secrets are revealed

content warnings: mild language :)!

word count: 1 k

pairing: lando norris x fem!driver!reader

SERIES: Messy || may be confusing if read as a standalone one shot!

You quickly stripped down to your sports bra and boy shorts and swung one leg over into the small ice bath waiting for you. The quicker you were in, the quicker you were out was your mentality. Kimi stood, grabbing the edge of the bath beside you, mentally preparing himself for the ice-cold. You sank to your shoulders, feeling the cold make your muscles tense up. You understood why an ice bath was beneficial, but man, did you hate it. 

“You know the faster you get in, the faster we can get out, right?” You say, staring at Kimi who had not moved. Two months ago, you both agreed that you would stay in there together as long as the other one did to keep each other company. To maybe make the time go by faster, since you both hated them.  

“So, who did you have the other day with 20 questions? George? Max? Lance?” Kimi says, wincing as the cold water finally hits his legs. “I had Franco, super nice guy actually.” 

“Lando.” As you said it, Kimi’s body hit the water so fast it made a splash. Like the word had genuinely made him fall back from being so surprised. “Dude, did you just slip?” 

“Yeah, yeah. Sorry about that. So you had Lando?” You could hear the change in his voice; he genuinely was surprised you were paired with Lando, but why? 

“Yeah, he was pretty nice actually. I hoped he was, you have always talked so highly of him it would have sucked ass if he was rude.” You say, looking over to Kimi, who was now looking at you in what looks like absolute horror. 

“Oh.” He says, snapping his head away from you. Suddenly, the wall in front of both of you was the most interesting thing in the room in his mind. 

That Oh. It was not a “Oh!” like ‘Oh, I’m so glad you finally were able to meet him!’ or ‘Oh! How did it go?!’ No, this oh was sinister. Like the “Oh” you say when you realize you sent a text to the person you were talking about, or the “Oh” when you realize you have been calling a person the wrong name for three weeks. Not a good oh by any means. 

“Why did you say oh like that?” 

“What do you mean?” Kimi finally shoots his head back over to you. He knows he’s caught. Even in the 20-degree water, he is still practically sweating. “I meant like ‘OH!” He changed his inflection completely. You can see right through it, though. “You know I love Lando, I’m glad you finally got to meet him.” Kimi begins to stand up. “I think I’m done for the day, I can’t take it anymore. I’m going to get changed.” 

Before you can even protest about how short the stint was, Kimi is already out the door. 

By the time Kimi comes back into the room ten minutes later, you are still sitting in the tub, still confused by the ‘oh’. 

“Oh,” Kimi says as he lets out an awkward laugh, “I thought you would be changing by now, too.” 

Before you could even really think, you leap out of the small tub and lunge towards the door. You had to know what Kimi meant earlier. 

“What the fuck, are you really blocking me in here?” 

You were a sight to see, you were sure of it. Soaking wet, standing in a growing puddle, arms and legs sprawled out in front of the large door as if you were a starfish protecting their sand. 

“You aren’t leaving this room until you tell me what you meant by that, 'oh, ' Antonelli. We promised each other no secrets.” 

Kimi puts his arms up in defeat. “Listen, not everyone has to like you. You’re gonna have to learn that. Especially being in this sport. You know I still remember…” 

As Kimi was rambling about what you, assume, to be a hate train he remembers his rookie year, he hadn’t even noticed you drop your arms and legs back to normal. What did he mean by that? As far as you were concerned, Lando and you had a fine time filming together. You hadn’t ever laughed for that long in your life, much less that hard as that day. 

“What do you mean by that?” Now, a lot more reserved, almost hoping Kimi would refuse to answer. 

“Okay, look, full story. I was talking to Lando the other day and asked who he was paired with. He said a rookie, then told me he didn’t care for them. I really thought he was talking about one of the other two, or I would have defended you. For what it's worth, I think you’re great.” Kimi says moving past you out the door. “Look, don't let it get you down. Take him down next week on the track.” He yelled back down the hallway, walking backwards towards the exit.

Kimi was right, next week all 20 of us would be in Monaco for the opening weekend, nothing else should matter. You should be focused only on racing. 

But the only thing on your mind that you could get out was, “oh.”

[stylesispunk]

"Whatever you'd like us to be" | part 5

harry castillo (materialists) x fem!sunshine reader

masterlist | previous chapter | next chapter

Summary: The one where you break all the rules and became lovers.

w.c: 5,6k (shortie because i haven't felt good)

warnings: age gap (harry is 45 and reader 29-30) fluff, smut (terrible because I don't know how to write smut) no proofreading.

A/N: First of all. Lower your expectations about this chapter. This is what I call a "filler" chapter, but it also changes the characters' dynamic. This story was supposed to be a mini series, and I made the mistake of becoming a people pleaser, and now I don't know what I'm doing. I hope you like this chapter, though, and PLEASE TELL ME IF YOU GOT THE HINT AT THE END OF THE CHAPTER.

AO3 account, where I'm also posting the chapters.

dividers by @/saradika-graphics

You didn’t even notice you had made to Harry’s apartment. You felt like you were on cloud nine, lost in the scent of her perfume and the taste of her kisses. You didn't notice when Harry opened the door without moving his lips from yours, taking the time to explore your figure. Every curve, every inch, delicately and passionately, sending out sensations you no longer remembered feeling.

Harry pulled away for a moment, his breath ragged, eyes dark and soft at the same time. His thumb caressed over your bottom lip, swollen from all his kisses.

 “I’ve wanted this,” he whispered, voice low and rough as his hand cupped your face and the other grabbed your neck, “Ever since I met you.” He kissed your lips, “But all you wanted were French fries” he smiled against your lips.

You smiled back at him, stealing pecks at his lips, not being able to find the words. Your heart spoke for yourself, in the way your fire raising throughout your body, in the way your hands gripped the fabric of his shirt.

His apartment was gloomy, guiding you further, without breaking the kisses as his hands kept roaming at your body, memorizing every inch of it. Tasting every single second of this.

“You have no idea,” Harry whispered against your skin, lips ghosting along your jaw, “what you do to me. The way you look at me… the way you always see through me.”

You melted under his touch, warmth blooming in places you’d forgotten could feel like this.

He pressed a lingering kiss to your throat before pulling back just enough to meet your eyes again, searching them, asking for the answer you gave without hesitation.

In a swift motion, his big hands slid down your thighs, lifting you effortlessly. As soft gasp escaped from your lips, wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling his face closer to your as you placed your arms around his neck, as if even gravity couldn’t keep you apart.

Harry’s lips crashed back onto yours, all heat and hunger and tenderness in equal balance. He kissed you like a man starving for something beyond the desire, but for a feeling, for something that felt real and made his heart beat faster against his chest that even you could feel it, both beating in a perfect rhythm.

His fingertips dug into your skin just enough to make you feel claimed, wanted, adored and loved. The way he wanted to claimed you wasn’t rapid and short. He wanted to take his time to pour every feeling you had made him feel ever since he had met you.

So, when he reached the bedroom, he set you down over the bed slowly, carefully as you were a crystal he must protect.

He leaned over you, bracing himself on his forearms, his forehead pressed to yours as his lips curved into the softest, most breathtaking smile you’d ever seen.

“I want everything with you,” he whispered, his voice frayed with emotion. “Not just tonight. From now on, I want everything.”

You reached up, your fingers tangling into the hair at the nape of his neck, and you leaned in, closing the breath of space between you. Your lips met his in a kiss that was softer this time, not rushed, but still claiming desire for him.

Harry let out a quiet, broken sound against your mouth, like the feeling of you underneath him, kissing him like that, was striping him bare in front of you, allowing you to see what he had tried to hid beneath the surface of power. His hand slid up the side of your body, placing his palm over your ribs like he needed to anchor himself to this feeling.

He hovered above you, one arm braced beside your head, his thumb brushing your cheek as the kiss deepened, the thing was that when you were about to feel the person your love this way, all you could feel was a sort of peace and fire settling all over at once.

You pulled back again, lips barely agape, your noses still touching, as his eyes searched for a sing of regret inside yours, but there was nothing, just love and a softness he hadn’t come to face when someone had looked at him.

“I don’t want to stop kissing you,” you said, smiling as the vibration of your voice brushed against his lips.

He smiled then because it seemed to be clear that you were going to be his beginning and his ending at once.  

His eyes locked with yours, asking a question without uttering a word. You gave the slightest nod he needed to lean in and kiss you again, slower this time, unhurried, like he was tasting your lips every second as he intended to do until the end of the times.

His hands moved to the hem of your blouse, his fingers brushing against your skin, and the he paused for a second, his gaze meeting yours once more for permission. You reached for his wrist, guiding his hand higher, and that was all it took for him to give up. Piece by piece, he started to undress you, as if it was a privilege, he was the only one able to have. His fingers traced every inch of skin displaying before his eyes, his lips following in, placing kisses everywhere he could. Every touch, every sigh leaving his lips felt like a promise you were making with each other, making your breath hitch.

“You’re gorgeous,” he whispered, as if it physically hurt him no to remind you of it every second.

You reached for him, your fingers tugging at the fabric of his shirt, eager to feel his skin against yours, to close the space that had been settled between the both of you. He helped you, shedding the last pieces of clothing between you both.

Harry’s lips returned to yours, stealing kisses from you before starting low his path down the curve of your neck. His hands framed your face for a moment like he couldn’t believe you were real, then drifted lower, his mouth following the trail down across your collarbone, the heat of his breath against your skin sent shivers down your spine, making you squirm beneath his touch. Each kiss poured apologies for every moment he hadn’t said what he meant, as the same time as he promised he would be there. His hands spread across your waist, holding you steady, grounding you under his frame.

When his lips brushed the top of your chest, he glanced up at you, his eyes heavy-lidded and softer, making sure you wanted this as much as him. You reached for him, threading your fingers through his hair, and the way his mouth curved against your bare chest.

“I could spend all my life here,” he murmured against your skin, his voice a low, kissing all over your breasts.

He looked up again, one of his curls falling into his forehead, there was something almost shy there, as if this mattered more than anything else had before for him. As if this wasn’t about him filling his own desires, but about finally finding a place he belonged to.

“You’re beautiful,” Harry reassured, “Not just tonight but always.”

Your throat tightened, your hand cupping his cheek, your thumb brushing over his lips. He kissed the inside of your palm, then leaned in again, his mouth finding yours in a sealing kiss, grabbing your breasts with both of your hands, as he pressed kisses down your neck all over again.

Your eyes rolled as you moved your neck to give him access to every inch of your skin, you claim it with his lips as you lay there. The warmth of your uneven breaths mingled, enveloping you both as he quickly as you curled your fingers in his hair as he kissed you all over your body for the first time. You could sense the emotions, but the intimacy and lust were like a fire in your core.

How long had taken you too feel this desired and loved again?

Harry raised his head to kiss you once again, slipping his tongue past your lips and gasping as he felt your fingers trace the lines of a map to the spot where you couldn't stop on his bare chest.

With one of your hands, you pulled him down by his neck to hold him against your lips. Once you tasted them, you couldn’t get over the taste of them over yours, and you couldn’t get over the whimpers he left in your mouth for you to devour.

You wanted to follow the route of his hands even though you knew it would go to a dangerous place, and the smell of his palms on your tights just intensified the sparks where you most wanted him.

And he wanted to worship your body and devour every whimper coming out of your mouth, so you kept kissing softly while he stroked your thighs. He nipped your skin between his teeth as he kissed you down over your neck.

He loved the way you were making him feel. Right now, motivated by the hunger and feelings you exchanged for one another. He was drawn by the simple fact that you weren't rushing. He wanted to meet where religion was, between your thighs.

You angled your hips up for Harry after feeling his lips against them. You were already dripping as he licked a route from your thigh to your cunt before sucking on your clit and pressing his fingers against you.

You held his head between your legs and whimpered. His cock hardened as the sound from your lips and you clenched around his fingers. He sucked like he was hungry, forcing your legs apart till you had one calf under his shoulder. His free hand moved up your torso, grabbing your breast, as his nose rubbed against your clit. For instinct, you buried your heel into his scalp and dragged him closer until all he could taste was you.

He fucked you slowly, taking his time to taste your wetness on his lips before locking eyes with you. You were flustered, and your eyes shone.

"Oh fuck…Harry, more” you whispered.

"I want all of you, baby," He whispered frantically, moving forward between your legs, pushing your knees up to your breasts, and effortlessly diving into you. With a sigh, you bent over and gave him a kiss. He was on your breasts, trying to touch you all over, while your hands were on the back of his neck. Trying to be as careful as you could, you lifted your hips to fuck up into him as he drove down into you during your kiss.

"Harry, please fuck me," You mumbled into his ear before he reclaimed your lips. He leaned down and sucked your nipples, lightly biting your breasts.

Both of you gasped out loud the second he started to push slowly inside you. His hands reached for yours to interlock them together as he kissed you with softness and lust.

“You’re so beautiful like this” He whispered. He was hypnotized by the way you were nervously laughing as you tossed your head back in pleasure. He bit your neck, causing your hands to follow their way up to his neck and his hands roamed down all of your body without any barrier between the both of you, focusing on every thrust, going deep to make sure he was making you feel good. 

You opened your eyes to stare back at him, looking completely drawn and focused on you. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes as his hands caressed your breasts as he kept devouring your lips, your back arched followed by a moan against his lips.

Every thrust felt so good you couldn’t help but feel you were in cloud nine. You could feel you were getting close as you squeezed him and you kept your eyes locked on each other. He pushed faster, with one hand caressing your cheek and the other holding your leg to ensure you fell apart. 

The noises you made drove him crazy, feeling himself coming to the edge of the cliff. He wanted to look at you under him as you came, and with a loud gasp, it happened and he did it at the same time, falling over your bare chest, with your heartbeats becoming one.

“Give it to me, baby” he encouraged, “I can feel you clenching” he said between thrusts, grinding his cock as deep as into you as it could go as you encouraged him with your moans and nails scratching down his back.

He slid his hand down to your pussy and rubbed along your clit. You fucked yourself harder on him by thrusting back against him right away. “Come on, baby. Give it to me.”

When you came, he whispered something on your neck. You clutched around him and your hips trembled even as he continued to fuck you. Soon after, he began thrusting into you and eventually pulled out while making uneasy gasps in your shoulders. After that, the only sound in the room was the mingling of your breaths.

In the aftermath, the air felt different.

After catching your breath, you both lay there for a moment, listening to the rain falling over the city. Harry's body kept still half-draped over yours, his face buried in the crook of your neck, his breath warm and uneven against your skin. His hand was on your hip, fingers tracing lazy figures where he had just placed kissed over.

You felt his lips press lingering kiss against your collarbone. Then another, making you sigh in joy.

Neither of you had really felt the need to fill the silence consuming. You had spoken through your actions and that was more than enough for now. There were no lies, games. Just the quiet silence that comes with the person you chose.

He propped himself up on his elbow, his curls a mess, his eyes warm as always, darker, meeting a the soft spot on yours.

“Hey,” he murmured.

You gave a tired, content smile. “Hey.”

He brushed your hair from your face, his thumb stroking over your cheek. “Are you okay?”

You reached up and caught his hand, pressing your lips to his palm. “I’m more than perfect now.”

Then, he displayed that crooked, bashful grin tugged in his mouth, the one you’d get used to. He leaned in and kissed you again, slowly, taking his time, like he was still trying to make sense of how this had happened, how you were really here in his bed, in his arms.

How a game had ended up with two lovers meeting the ectasis for the first time.

He placed a kiss on the corner of your mouth, then your cheek, cupping your face with one hand.

“I meant what I said,” Harry murmured, his voice rough. “I want you, now, tomorrow and as long as you want me.”

You smiled, your hand resting over his heart. “Then I’ll stay.”

“Thank you.”

He pulled you against him, pulling the sheets up over both of you. His arms wrapped around your waist; your head tucked beneath his chin. You could feel his heartbeat beneath your palm, steady and sure, grounding you.

Then, you tilted your head, your eyes drifting across the room, the half-drawn curtains, the darkness of it, the soft glow of a lamp on his bedside table and something about it made you smile.

Harry noticed it. They way your eyes roamed all over his room, his place.  You felt his body tense just slightly next to you, his breath hitched for a moment, as if something could have change in your mid. He cleared his throat softly, trying to keep his voice casual.

“What?” he asked, his tone light but edged with something wary. His heart hammered in his chest.

What if you regretted this already?

But then you looked back at him, that smile still ghosting at the corners of your lips, tiny and a little mischievous. You reached up, brushing the curl off his forehead.

“We broke rule number two,” you murmured, your voice tender, teasing.

Harry blinked, a beat passing before the meaning landed, and when it did, he laughed, a sound that filled the room and soothed his heart. Relief washed over his features, his smile breaking wide and boyish, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

“Yeah,” he breathed, cupping your face again like he couldn’t help it. “We did.”

You laughed too; the sound muffled against his shoulder as you snuggled closer. He pressed a kiss on your temple.

“It was a dumb rule anyway,” he murmured into your hair.

“Terrible rule,” you agreed, grinning. “Who even made it?”

He smirked. “Pretty sure it was me.”

You huffed a soft laugh. “Okay, well, revoke it.”

His hand tightened gently at your hip, pulling you impossibly closer. “Of course, I will,” he whispered, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “I will show how much I love you everyday from now on.”

Your breath hitched at his words. They were simple, just a promise that could became a void statement, but the way he had said it, it had sounded like a vow or a promised in a room where only truth lived. You pulled back just enough to look at him, your fingertips tracing the line of his jaw, the curve of his lips.

“I’m gonna hold onto that,” you murmured, your voice soft but there was something soft on it.

Harry smiled, again. “Good,” he said, brushing his nose against yours. “Because I want nothing more to stay with you.”

The rain had softened to a gentle patter against the windows, as if weather had known about your love, about how it took to people to walk through storm until meeting daylight, that kind of light that just the correct person could bring to you. The room felt just goo enough, the correct place to stay, like it belonged to you.

You sighed, letting you head fall on his chest against, his hand moving in slow circles along your back. For the first time in so long, you felt like you had found the fairy tale you had been looking for.

And harry too, he was a mand who had never hold onto the empty quotes of love spreading all over the places. He had never learned how to do love, how to find it or how to show it. It wasn’t something that came out easily. It was difficult.

But when he laid his eyes on you and that was enough to make him doubt and think about giving it a chance. He felt drawn. There was something in the way your nose scrunched when you laughed, the way your eyes shone with a special spark never got to see before. How everything about you felt genuine to him to make him feel brave and go to yo.u

And The moment his legs made his way towards your table he still hadn’t figured how to talk to you or how to sit across from you and not feeling amazed by your mere existence.

It was how you made him nervous for the first time.

Then, he got to know you and life became mad, passionate and funnier. A kind of extraordinary love he didn’t know he craved until he met you. The beautiful girl from the wedding who had offered nothing but kindness as freely as the sun offered his light.

That was the place where he wanted to stay at, feeling the warm of the breeze that came with the existence of you. With the warmth of you.

A love that offered calm and peace.

You.

You.

You.

Yes, you. Definitely, you were the one for him.

Morning sunlight spilled softly through the window, catching on the dust motes drifting lazily in the air. Harry stirred, there was a special kind of warm this morning, wrapping around his body. It took him a second to come to his senses and realize that you were there, head on his chest, steadily breathing, and a hand just over his heart.

His heart stuttered for a minute.

You belonged there.

For a long moment, he just stayed there, staring down at you, his chest tight with so many things he didn’t know how to name yet, so many feelings and emotions that were foreign to him. He wanted to imprint this image into his memory, the color of your skin, the way your eyelashes seemed longer, the way your lips parted a bit.  

Panic creped in.

Should he get up and surprise you breakfast? or should he stay right here, pretending to sleep so he wouldn’t risk waking you up, just so he could have a few more stolen minutes like this? Would you wake up and think he regretted it? That it hadn’t meant as much to him as it did?

He hated that thought. Hated it so much it made his stomach twist.

The idea of you waking up in an empty bed, of you thinking he’d run, that he didn’t care enough to stay.

So, Harry stayed because he didn’t want to ruin his chance with you.

He stayed still, one hand brushing gently over your hair, watching the way the light kissed your hair. He pressed a tender kiss to your temple.  And in that tiny and simple moment, Harry realized he wasn’t afraid of the feeling anymore. He wasn’t afraid of the way you fit against him, and of how right it felt.

He breathed you in, the faintest trace of your perfume clinging to his skin, and closed his eyes for a moment.

Your fingers twitched against his chest, like your body had reacted to him before your mind did. And he smiled, a small, helpless thing, tightening his arm around you just a little.

Harry didn’t move. He didn’t risk breaking whatever this was. He stayed right there, heart beating steady for the first time in years, holding the girl who broke every rule he’d made and somehow made him grateful for it.

And he stayed, because anywhere else felt like home but you.

You stirred a little against his chest, a soft hum left your lips as the warmth of the morning brushed your bare body under the sheets. Harry felt you shift, your hand pressing the skin of his chest as if you were looking its warmth in your sleep.

Then your eyes fluttered open, lashes brushing your cheeks as you blinked up at him, dazed and beautiful in the soft morning. A small, sleepy smile tugged at your lips when you realized where you were, who you were with.

“Hey stranger,” you whispered, your voice still rough with sleep, and it made his chest ache in the most beautiful way.

“Hey you,” he breathed back, his hand brushing your hair from your face. “Sorry. I didn’t want to wake you.”

You gave a lazy stretch and nestled back against him, your head fitting perfectly beneath his chin, you pressed a kiss on his neck, “You didn’t. I could feel you staring though,” you teased, a faint grin in your voice.

Harry laughed softly, the sound low and tender. “Don’t blame me for it. You look beautiful this morning.”

You felt heat rising up to your cheeks, but you didn’t look away, you couldn’t prevent yourself from being perceived this way under the stare of a person who had promised to love you. And there was something about the way he was looking at you now, like you were a rare rose growing up out of ice frozen ground.

“Well,” you murmured, your fingers idly tracing a path on his chest, “I guess you’ll just have to get used to waking up next to me.”

Harry’s smile faltered for a second, not because he didn’t like the idea, but because it weakened him. Completely. The thought of this being the first morning of thousand more, the beginning of the story between you two, made him completely joyful.

“I would be the luckiest man alive,” he whispered, leaning down to press his lips to your forehead, lingering there for a beat longer than necessary. “By the way, I plan on getting very used to it.”

You closed your eyes at the warmth of his kiss, the words wrapping around your heart like someone caressing it with such delicate touch.

“Great,” you whispered, your hand resting over his heart. “Because I want to stay right here.”

Neither of you moved for a long moment, one moment became five minutes and then more, the morning light creeping in brighter now, the city beginning to stir beyond the window. But here, it was still quiet, as the world waited for you both to catch up.

“I was thinking…” Harry started softly, pulling back just enough to look at you again. “Breakfast. In bed. I’ll cook for you.”

You grinned, your stomach fluttering in that way it only did for him. “Okay, but I’ll let you go only if you stay like this for five more minutes.”

He chuckled, settling back with you, pulling the covers higher around you both. “Five more minutes then.” he agreed. “But don’t blame me if it turns into the whole day.”

Like an hour later, you both made it to the dining room instead. Harry insisted of getting up to prepare breakfast by himself, leaving you to rest a bit on his bed for little bit longer. By the time he called you, you appeared on his sight, wearing one of his t-shirts. His heart stopped for bit, beating a little unsteady in the best possible way.

The table was set with two black mugs, a couple of plates with toasts, avocado, fruits and scrambled eggs that looked better than you expected, and a pot of coffee that Harry was absurdly proud of.

You smiled as you took a sip, the warmth spreading through you as you leaned back in your chair, giving him a teasing smile over the rim of your cup.

“Well?” Harry asked, raising his brows as he sat down across from you, watching you, waiting for your verdict.

You set the cup down dramatically on the table and sighed. “It’s actually really good.”

He grinned like you’d just handed him an award. “I told you. There’s no way anyone could make better coffee than me. No one.”

You snorted, shaking your head as you grab a piece of fruit with a fork. “Oh, you’re insufferable. I literally own the café you said you had drunk the best coffee you’d eve had.”

He pointed a fork at you. “Yeah, well, that was before I discovered my hidden talent this morning. Things have changed. The title’s mine now.”

You burst out laughing, the sound filling the space, you felt light and you haven’t in so long. It wasn’t just the moment, or even the night before. It was him. It was this.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you said through your grin.

Harry leaned forward on his elbows, his eyes softening as he looked at you like you were the only thing that existed in the world worth seeing.

“Yeah,” he murmured, a crooked smile pulling at his lips.

And with the way his eyes looked at you, you felt your heart do that same fluttery ache it had last night. Harry leaned in, closing the space between you, and pressed his lips to yours.

It wasn’t the kind of desperately, rushed and hungry kiss like the night before. This was completely different. Slower, more certain. He had finally made peace with the was he felt about you. His hand brushed your cheek as he deepened the kiss, tasting the coffee and warmth the liquid had left on your lips.

When he finally pulled back, his thumb traced patterns over the edge of your jaw.

“I could kiss you like this every morning,” he whispered, a lazy grin tugging at his lips.

You smiled; your eyes still closed for a beat longer, just letting the feel of him linger on you.

“You better do it,” you teased, your voice soft, playful, but full of pleading.

Harry chuckled, pressing one last kiss to the corner of your mouth before pulling back, his eyes brighter than you’d seen them before.

“Of course, baby,” he murmured, his hand slipping into yours across the table like it belonged there.

And somehow, without even realizing it, the two of you had stumbled into something that felt like home.

The morning stretched on lazily, fulfilled by the love blossoming between the you and Harry, lost conversations, kisses that almost lead to other things. And for you, time seemed to spot under his stare. It felt like the world outside didn’t exist. But no long after, time caught up with you both. You glanced at the clock and groaned.

“Oh, I’m gonna be late,” you sighed, setting your empty mug in the sink.

Harry stood from his chair, grabbing his keys from the counter. “I’ll drive you.”

“Harry, you don’t have to—”

“I want to,” he said softly, crossing the kitchen in a few steps to stand in front of you. His hand found its way to your waist. “I don’t want you walking” he added with a crooked grin, leaning down to steal one more kiss from you, “I’ll take any excuse to have you with me a little longer.”

You smiled against his mouth, your heart squeezing tight in your chest because, God, you were getting so used to this. To him. To this easy, unguarded affection that came without conditions.

You loved love, the idea of it. You craved it for so long and now that you were tasting this piece of it. You couldn’t get enough of it.

“Alright,” you murmured, brushing your fingers through his hair. “Drive me then.”

He chuckled, reaching for your coat and holding it open for you.

The drive was quiet, but joyful. His hand stayed on your thigh the whole time, thumb brushing slow circles, like he couldn’t help himself. Neither of you spoke much, you didn’t need to. The city blurred by outside the car window, but it didn’t matter. The only thing real was this small, perfect world you’d built inside his car.

When he pulled up in front of your café shop, he turned to you, hesitant at what it came with letting you go.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come in?” he asked, his gaze seemed serious.

You laughed softly, leaning over to kiss him one more time. “Go to work, Harry. Try to get something done today.”

“I will be too busy thinking about you.”

You rolled your eyes, but your smile gave you away. “I’ll see you tonight, alright?”

A big smile spread across his face. “Yeah,” he breathed, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “You will.”

He leaned in to press a lingering kiss to your lips. “Have a good day,” he said against your mouth, smile popping.

You pulled back with a laugh. “I will now.”

And then you slipped out of the car, walking towards the door. The bell above the place jingled as you stepped inside. And you didn’t need to turn around to know he was still watching you.

Harry sat there for a moment longer than necessary, his fingers tapping against the steering wheel, heart a little fuller than it had been the night before and the day that would come.

Yeah. He was gone for you. Completely. And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Harry sat there for a long minute, watching the door you had disappeared behind. The city moved around him, people rushing by, horns blaring, but none of it mattered to him. Not when his girl, the one he knows would become his whole world had just walked through that café door.

He tapped his fingers on the wheel, the ghost of her laugh still in his ears, and smiled to himself. Perhaps this was the kind of “easy” was of love was. Not uneasy, no waste of your time. With you didn’t feel difficult in any way. It felt so natural to get used to.

One day at a time, he thought.

Right now, for the first time, the idea of love didn’t terrify him. It didn’t feel like a contract or something you could pay for. It felt like the easiest feeling he had ever experienced. Hope, perhaps.

Mornings spent with someone tangled up with you, simple breakfasts, eyes always looking for yours at every room. He wanted it. All of it. With you. He wanted to take his time to built the perfect story for you. To show you the world he’d quietly gathered in his hands, one piece at a time, just waiting for the right person to share it with.

But perhaps fate had its own way of dispose its things.

A kind of rearrangement you didn’t see it coming. The kind that starts with a single thread tugged loose and ends with everything you thought you knew tilting. The kind of twist that changes the shape of your life before you can even name it, a new, unexpected future forming quietly in the spaces between heartbeats. As everything you had dreamed of becoming real. Not a dream.

Neither of you could have known it yet, but something was already on its way. And it would turn out to be everything you never thought you’d have.

tags:

@jasminedragoon @stcrrjoon @sptbear @picketniffler @greenwitchfromthewoods @fallout-girl219 @suzysface @aomi-recs @capuccinodoll @fvispunk @orcasoul @joeldarling @mystickittytaco @onlythehobi @darkheartgatita @isabella-rose-trastamara @spencercmlover @brittmb115 @correapunk @aomi-nabi @annulmaelae @32-flavors @berriesarepunk @joelmillerpascal

@lotusbxtch @dean-and-baby343 @pedrofan @hisuccubus @daryltwdixon @sourrollercoaster @holholliday @loveisacowboyyy

@hhallefuckinglujahh @primadonnasdream @chewie-bars @starstriker027 @glitterspark @casualbananapatrol @06nasyrah13

@unicornsandpugs @orcasoul @grayandthyme @sincerelywithheartt @starstriker027 @poor-unfortunate-soul9927

@ro-nahime-things @kimi01985 @pastelpinkflowerlife @isabella-rose-trastamara @majuia

[snapscube]

do you have a controller in your Controller Brain that uses the playstation layout and Preferably buttons? i love my dualsense but it's just...theres some other quality of life features in some modern third party solutions i want!

MIGHT I INTEREST YOU IN MY PRECIOUS BABY THE GAMESIR TARANTULA PRO

I LOVE this controller, in spite of it not being my current main.

It is a PC and Switch controller that uses playstation button and stick LAYOUT but has ABXY buttons. What's really fucking cool is that the button lettering is actually done with LED lights behind the physical buttons that can dynamically rotate based on whether you're using PC or Switch mode. the process is automatic and just activates with a button combination. it's so cool.

It also has haptics/HD rumble! Which only really comes through on Switch mode obviously but it is REAL nice to have if you play a lot of Switch but prefer the PS button layout.

It also comes with trigger stops that turn your trigger presses into essentially mouse clicks, remappable back buttons, and a TONNNN of little macro buttons all around the top and front face that you can also customize to either buttons on the controller OR keyboard keys in PC mode (correct me if I'm wrong on the latter but i remember being able to do this).

There are a COUPLE downsides to this one though, that I will note. One is that at $70 base price and $80 with the charging dock it's pretty pricey compared to other GameSir offerings if you don't catch it on sale. And another thing I should note is that unfortunately for some reason this controller compared to GameSir's other PC controllers has a STRANGE amount of stick latency. That is to say, analog stick inputs register EVER SO SLIGHTLY slower than ideal. I would not consider it a game breaking issue, and it's the kind of thing where you might not even notice it if you're not looking for it. But it unfortunately is not just a numbers thing, it's a difference that can be felt if you're comparing it to something like the Cyclone 2 which is INCREDIBLY fast and responsive. This is honestly the biggest reason why I don't use this controller anymore as my main PC controller in spite of the fact that I really do love it so much and it is CLOSE to perfect for me otherwise. It's sad but worth noting.

(I also don't like the camo aesthetic at all but that's a petty personal thing)

Still very much worth it if you're not a controller freak like me and don't have faster controllers to compare it to and are willing to get used to the slight latency difference for high customizability, great modern features, and a layout you prefer!

[natsheadrest]

🥥 mixed feelings with white dresses

analysis. your mother breaks the news to you that you’re being wedded off to some heir to a jewelry company. you have no knowledge on who she is in person, only that she’s rich and rather cold to anyone who approaches her. but when she walks you down the aisle after the vows, you find out she’s more of a sweetheart than you thought.

pairing. natasha romanoff x fem!reader wordcount. 4k

no other way masterlist

warnings. angst, arranged marriage!au, mentions of family abandonment (Father abandonment), many mentions of missing said father, slightly mean steve (makes fun of readers issues and reason why she's marrying Nat), some fluff at the end.

taglist. @natashasmuse @dvrkhcld @im-lesbianics authors note. the wedding section of this might be very poorly done, especially considering I have only been to around 3 weddings in my life and two of them was when I was a little kid. 😓 -- I did do plenty of research though so..

Your phone was settled on the counter after you recently checked your moms location, you sparsely sat on it due to lack of data and internet. Not wanting to waste it in case you needed it. for emergencies as you settled to make yourself coffee. You never liked the bitter taste of just, black coffee but you and mama couldn’t waste a single penny just for creamer. You were never one to waste any of your hard earned money, you’d rather spend it on your brother or mother whenever you are able to.

The house you lived in was small, having to share a room with your twelve year old brother while your mother sleeps on her own. Freezing in the winter and so fucking hot in the summer. The AC and heater don’t work and your family just can’t get enough money to fix it. Rather paying the bills to have a roof to live under was enough. Your nose scrunched as you hesitantly nursed at the coffee, the bitterness taking over your tastebuds. The coffee shop that mama and you love to go to had offered you a position this morning after an incident with a trainee and you were offered to be trained starting as of tomorrow.

The front door wiggled, keys jingled as it was pushed open. The hinges were rusty and old, creaking in complaint at being opened like it usually does. The familiar slim figure of your mother showed up in the doorway, coffee in hand as she settled down, eyes soft as she turned to you, “Hey sweetheart, you sleep okay?”

You smiled, walking over to give her a hug like you would always do whenever she came home. The childish grin found your face as you hugged the woman, nose pressing into her shoulder as you breathed in her scent. Motherly. That’s all you remember, the woman who raised you since you were crawling, the woman who had stuck around with you forever.

“I slept okay mama, but I’d like to tell you something,” You hummed excitedly, it was good news. Really, the excitement and enjoyment of the news for your mother that you so eagerly wanted to share died down on your tongue as she gently pushed you down onto the chair, she gave a shaky smile. The familiar smile that you saw when you caught her wine-drunk on a Tuesday after you came home from school as she promised to not drink anymore, “let me tell you something first, okay?”

You nodded, feet kicking off the worn-down stool you had perched yourself in. What would she possibly have to tell you that made herself look covered in guilt, what was wrong? You were genuinely worried, suspicion and a bit of fear sunk into your gut. Waiting to rip you apart.

“I met someone today, very nice, she was very sweet,” Mama continued on, her hand settled atop of yours. Gently squeezing your hand, four times. The usual, ‘I love you, sorry’ that was known within your family, “And she offered me something, well proposed something now that you’re finally an adult,”

“Mama, what’s going on?” You cut her off, her hand found your cheek, gently reassuring you that everything was okay. You relaxed in her touch, settling yourself ever so slightly.

“She’s the current CEO of that company, the jewelry company, I think it’s something along the lines of The Red Room?” She seemed unsure, lost a little bit, but before you could cut her off her finger found your lips and shut you up so she could continue on, “Her eldest daughter is your age, the heir to the company and she offered me to give you her daughter’s hand in marriage to help with Bennett’s future, and our future,”

Your heart sunk at that, engaged? Is that what you would call it, after everything you went through together. The drawing with chalk on the driveway just to play hopscotch, the catching lightning bugs and pill bugs. The affirmation that you two would be best-friends, she was there when you got your first period, your first breakup. And now? She was handing you away to a stranger right after you claimed that you were scared about marriage?

“So you’re throwing me away?” You let out a sniffle, body shuddering as tremors made their way through. Your throat tightened, it felt hard to swallow all these emotions, and as she reached out to reassure you, you snapped.

“You’re throwing me away just like dad threw us away? That’s not fair, why would you do that?” The small hint of anger that wrapped around the fear and sadness lashed out. Like a bullet piercing the air as you mentioned the man that left after your brother was born, the man who you believed to be your hero.

“Do not go there,” She warned, tone growing firm as she took a sip of her coffee. Her brows pinched, she sighed. Adjusting herself, before adding on, “You are not only just a daughter I raised, you’re the woman I brought up into this world. As much as I want to be there for you, it cannot continue to work like this, the universe has given us a hard life Y/N and if this is our light to help us shine like we were meant to, we will take it. But do not think this is me throwing you away, I will always love you, you’re my only daughter and I will not let the world rip you apart like it did me,”

Her words hurt, you felt guilty for lashing out. For acting like that so suddenly, you stood up. Giving her another simple yet comforting hug, before she patted your back and stepped away.

“You need to get dressed though love, an appointment was already booked for your wedding dress, your soon to be mother-in-law will be paying for everything you need,” She informed you softly, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before you were ushered into your room. You took in the silence, so many emotions raced through you as you rushed to get dressed. — Your phone was settled on the side table, you had tried on four different dresses by now. You didn’t even know what you wanted, especially with thinking a wedding wouldn’t be happening right now. The girl who was helping you with decisions had her eyes linger on you too long, as if she was jealous of whoever had your hand in marriage because you were rather gorgeous.

Yet, uncomfortable with her stares. It wasn’t like you knew who you were marrying either, you learned what she looked like. A quick google search of the company, the people who founded it and the upcoming heir. Her name was in bold letters, her age and appearance listed with a photo that made her look elegant. Her hair was curled, jawline sleek and eyes narrowed in an icy look that could kill. You couldn’t tell if you were afraid or about to go head over heels and blush over your soon-to-be wife. You read reviews, anything to gain knowledge on who this woman was. All that had come up was that your father-in-law to be is a jokester, a funny man and your mother-in-law to be was a sweetheart and very focused on the customers while Natasha? Natasha was focused on the company, not that interactive with the people but the user ‘StarkHasAHeart’ was very insistent that he had an interaction with the heir and that she was cold and unpleasant.

“Ms.L/N, what dress will you try on next?” The girl asked you, her voice soft but the hint of impatience was there. You thought quietly, back to your mother who was sitting in the front room. You used to want a specific dress, but that was when you were a kid. You thought quietly as you started to unzip the dress you were wearing. It was too big, too puffy for your liking and the zipper itched your back in an uncomfortable manner.

“How about a v-neck dress with bell sleeves?” You blurted out, the first direct ask from you yet from this appointment. The girl simply nodded and went back into the storage to find something similar to your request. When she came back and handed you it, you went into the dressing room and shut the curtain. Your movements were rough, but you precisely took off the current dress and gently put on the dress that was just grabbed for you. It was gorgeous, really. It sparkled and showed off your curves nicely, yet it matched the spark in your eyes. The softness that still remained in your face after childhood, you looked in the mirror. Admiring yourself, it reminded you of when you played dress-up with your father. Before he left. You would be in a blue ball-gown replicating Cinderella’s dress and he’d have messy ruined make-up over his face after you did it for him with plastic fairy wings on his back. You felt like crying now, the realization that your father wouldn’t be there to walk you down the aisle. He isn’t going to be the man to hand you away, your throat tightened. You and your mother had a tight bond, but with the time spent with your dada? Nothing could compete against that, he wasn’t the best at doing girly things. Hell, he didn’t even know how to put your hair in a ponytail when you were a kid but he tried his best. When your mama was at work, he’d let you stay up and sit on his lap while he sat on the couch with an xbox controller in hand while playing an old game of Call of Duty with friends. You exactly remembered the first time he let you play for him, touch the controller. When you grew old enough to play on your own, he’d play against you and every time he beat you a puff of rage went through your tiny little head as you stamped your feet before he let you win once. You honestly only played because you loved the dogs, and you would start bawling your eyes out every time one of your dogs died.

But you would remember the times where you sat atop of the stairs listening to your parents argue over the littlest things, the pure bouts of rage. The screaming at the top of their lungs and the front door slamming. It was usually your father that left the house during these arguments, you’d go hide in your room every time he left and cry into a pillow with the thought of him leaving. Although, you also remembered the time you went down the stairs early one morning, your old man was sitting at the counter with his phone in hand and a hand covering his face to hide the tears. He was hunched over and crying, that was the morning where your Pops died. You remember running into his arms to hug him, not knowing anything close to the grief he had about his father dying, but you tried your best as you snuggled into his chest for the rest of the morning.

After your brother was born, your father hardly showed up to the house after work. You would set up the xbox every night in hopes he’d come sit down with you to play and every night you sat there alone or playing a round by yourself. You were only ten, you still didn’t understand the concept of abandonment of a family member. Yet, you learned it the hard way when your mom broke it to you that your papa wasn’t coming back and he left you behind. Your mama wanted him to be seen as the bad guy in your eyes, and you never believed it. Before and after school you would sit at your window looking at the empty parking space where your fathers white Camry would sit. It took you two years to realize that the father you loved wasn’t coming back, and two more years to accept it and not think about where he is now.

You couldn’t tell if you wanted to laugh or cry, but this was the dress for you. “I’ll go for this dress Denise, thank you,”

You yelled out. Not wanting the woman to see the dress on you, or your mother. Not yet, you eased out of the dress as you settled back into the light grey sweater you wore with black leggings. You breathed out softly, adjusting yourself as you had the dress hung over your arm as you walked out of the dressing room.

Surprisingly Denise didn’t pout like you expected her to when you announced you were fine with it and didn’t bother to show. A sigh left your lips as she handled the payment that your soon to be mother-in-law did for you. Dress in a bag to prevent casualties from happening. Once you were given the signal to leave, you grasped your phone and went to the front door. Not waiting for your mother as you slid into the front seat, opening your phone to look at the picture of the woman you’ll be marrying. Your eyes bore into the green ones that didn’t seem to have a spark, pushing down the negative feelings to your gut as you looked out the window as the car began to drive. — It felt wrong. You, the dress that you wore, the fact that you were standing behind the foliage with the flowers of the pathway that would lead you down the aisle and towards the altar where the redheaded woman you had not seen at all in person. This shouldn’t be you walking down the aisle, it should be another girl with elegant features and a wealthy family. You already cried this morning into your mother’s abdomen, you couldn’t start crying now.

Your uncle stood beside you, he wasn’t tall for a man but he had the muscle. His hair was neat, his black suit fit him well. The only thing he was really missing to bring out his personality was the black glasses he wore inside or when reading. As a kid you remembered playing around with him, or taking a nap in his bed just to mess around with him sitting next to you while reading Lord of The Rings. He would turn his head to look over you, black glasses pushed down as his eyes peered at you over them and he would mock you for your bedhead. He tries his best to help you and your mom out, being a dentist isn’t a hard pay. But he lives out of state, caring for his pregnant wife and two year old toddler.

Your arm was looped into his, awaiting it to be your turn to walk on down. It wasn’t until a soft teasing voice interrupted your thoughts, “You know, you’re supposed to think about everything after the wedding,”

A soft nudge to your side had you letting out a small smile, the feeling felt weird. Why are you smiling? You’re about to be wed off to some stranger you never met, but, in the face of it all he was lightening you up a bit.

“It’s not that bad, I promise you that,” He started off, eyes turning to look over at you as his expression was soft. A hint of pride yet understanding met your fearful ones, “It may seem scary, for you especially since you don’t know her but all you gotta do is think on how life will be after that. Don’t let this catch you up on the freight train just yet, enjoy the peace now. You don’t know if she’ll end up being the nicest thing to happen to you or the meanest, and you will let me know how she treats you after a few months because I will not tolerate my eldest niece getting stuck in a marriage with a bully,”

“I’m your only niece,” You giggled out softly at his protectiveness, fingers squeezing the soft flesh of his bicep as the music shifted. Giving the indication for you both to start heading down, with a gentle movement you both started walking down the aisle. Everyone was standing, but it wasn’t a lot of people, only secluded for family and close friends. While you recognized a few familiar faces you kept your looks on the redhead standing down at the altar waiting for you. She was in a light-grey, collared, buttoned up vest with a notched lapel with a button down white blouse beneath it. Light gray trousers covered her legs and black boots, it matched the tight bun she had in her red hair as her green eyes met yours and you had to fight the blush rushing to your cheeks at her stare and appearance. Her outfit surprisingly matched yours well, you swallowed before you stopped at the end of the altar. Arm leaving your uncles before you took him into a tight hug, throat tightening before you whispered your delayed response, “You’ll be the first to know if anything goes wrong,”

You stood there for a second longer, before you let him go to his destined spot as you moved up to stand in front of Natasha. She was taking you in, did she think poorly of you? Was she angry she had to marry a low-life like you? Your hair neatly styled in a half-up half-down hairstyle, front pieces framed your face well enough as you took her in as well. She has a well-built stature, only a few inches taller than you and she was gorgeous. You started to believe that this woman could, in-fact hurt a fly but not only with her words but with her looks. It wasn’t until the officiant cleared his throat.

“Welcome friends, family, and loved ones. I am Steve, a friend of one of the partners here today that are joining together in marriage,” He announced, tone smooth and clean but all you could focus on was the woman standing in front of you.

“Yet, we are all gathered here today for the marriage of Natasha Romanoff, and Y/N L/N,” He continued on, her name sounding smooth coming off of his lips. Although you had never said it, you’d wish you had whispered it to yourself for the confidence boost before standing in front of such a powerful woman. Maybe she was the heir for a reason, breathing in as you finally settled on listening to Steve.

“Although these two lovely women had not had much of an experience together yet, we know that it is a great thing in the future for them to have. No matter the issues at home, the brave step to come into this marriage is a wonderful thing and who knows, maybe this relationship will bloom to be a lovely thing,” He added on, finishing his speech with that and it had not but only stressed you even more.You subtly flickered your eyes to your uncle, who didn’t look too pleased himself but you focused on Natasha after it was mentioned for you two to share your vows. You had stayed up most of the night planning yours, one to not be too romantic but enough to share your devotion.

It wasn’t until she said her vows first, and honestly? You might have melted, her voice was soft, sweet like honey, “On this day, I give you my heart, My promise, That I will walk with you, Hand in hand, Wherever our journey leads us, Living, learning, loving, Together, Forever,”

It was sweet, brows furrowing as you felt your stomach churn with an upcoming feeling of nervousness. You took a moment to process, were your vows good enough as hers? She executed it perfectly, it was just the right amount to give to someone that you’re marrying without even knowing them. You adjusted your stance to get more comfortable, before you finally shared your own vows, “I, Y/N, take you to be my wife. I promise to love you, support you, and cherish you through everything we will face together,”

Her eyes held yours as you said them, it wasn’t until your brother showed up to the altar with both of your wedding rings. Natasha had picked up yours, gently picking up your hand as her thumb brushed against your knuckles. Body leaning in close as you felt the warmth she was radiating, the cool metal of the ring slid onto your finger as you felt your eyes wander to the jewelry on your hand. Shakily, you lifted the only ring left in the hold of your brother before he was coaxed back to his spot. Your hand took Natasha’s, feeling the softness of her skin. The callouses in her fingers and you couldn’t help but let your fingers brush against hers before you slid the ring onto her finger. You felt like you were in a trance, not hearing Steve declare you both wife’s. You didn’t even feel her hand find your face as she leaned in, forehead brushing against yours at the close contact. It wasn’t until you felt her nose bump into yours that you snapped out of it right as her lips lightly pressed into your own. The kiss was sweet, soft, nurturing as she pulled back.

People were clapping, and it was getting overwhelming. You took everything in your might to not recoil back before a hand slithered around your back and rested on your waist. Natasha began to lead you down the aisle, and took a left instead of a right. You were confused until you saw the black car sitting in a parking lot as she opened the passenger door for you. Your bags were already packed and placed at her place to be ready to be unpacked, she buckled the seatbelt for you before she slid into her driver's seat.

“You’re visibly stressed love, I’m not going to put you through all that with the reception afterwards, we can go home and settle now,” Her voice smoothed out her plan, you felt a bit of gratitude for her consideration as the car pulled out of the parking lot and drove through the city. You leaned your chin into the palm of your hand as you looked out the window, breathing out softly into the tense silence afterwards. You couldn’t help but think back on the empty seat beside where your mother sat. You knew who that spot was for, Melina probably even handed the invite to the man you adored. He didn’t show up. He broke that promise of seeing you walk down the aisle in a pretty dress that he would love to see you in, and he didn’t even get to see you at all.

As you thought in your solitude the car pulled into a driveway into a decently sized house. It was unique, not a mansion but it was rather grand. You could tell that the redhead had money, the house was practically the queen of the subdivision. You watched her open the car door and leave, your fingers unbuckled the seatbelt before reaching to pull the handle before the door opened for you, Natasha helped you out of the car steadily. Her hand found your waist again to guide you up the steps. You had to admit she was rather polite, it was something you were beginning to adore as you looked at the front door as she started to unlock it.

Once it creaked open, no hinges complaining, no creaking. She led you inside as you noticed your bags settled at the bottom of the staircase in the house, it was huge inside. You couldn’t even believe you were standing here, it wasn’t until you snapped your head to look at Natasha when she spoke out with a soft rasp.

“Welcome home,”

[patri56001]

Hi Tumblr, I have a head canon about the batfam; Especially Tim, I believe that he is especially good with babies, no one knows but Cass and the core four. He loves kids and would definitely love being a Dad. So

Picture this, Dami gets de-aged to like less than a year old, and Tim is the only family member there to take care of him. Bruce is off world, Dick long undercover mission, Jason's other country with the outlaws, Alfred is on vacation bc he fucking needs it. The girls are either out of the country or have college. So Tim is the ONLY ONE WHO HAS TO TAKE CARE OF BABY DAMIAN. And Tim is conflicted bc that's his baby brother and maybe they ain't that close but he is so small and cute and he is getting baby fever bc Dami is a clingy baby. And all he wants is for his baby brother to stop being a baby bc he might be less than a year old but he's still a little shit. But Zatana said that the spell has to be taken slowly in the course of a month or else they risk damaging Damian's psyche.

So Tim is alone with Baby Damian for a month or so taking care of him, and singing him to sleep, giving him food, doing everything with him, talking to him all the time bc he heard that it's good to talk to babies. And he is a natural. Like he learned all the queues in like a week, he bought a baby carrier wrap so that he could work with Damian. Damian loves it, bc Tim sneaks little forehead kisses every few minutes bc baby Damian melts at any signs of affection. And Tim melts at Damian's little smiles. And it's just pure fluff.

Then the month is up, Damian is back to normal and the rest of the family is back, all at once, and Damian only remembers the feeling of being loved by his big brother. And Tim is dying a little inside bc he wants to hold Damian close but he knows that he will get stabbed, so he leaves for his nest to get over the heartbreak of not being able to be more loving towards Damian. And everyone else is having dinner that night, when Barbara just asked if they could watch the security cameras around the manor (bc I'm sure they have them everywhere around the manor)

Queue the fam sitting together watching video after video of Tim and Baby Damian being so pure and wholesome. There's one in particular that just shook Damian bc it's Tim feeding him and singing to him to sleep with an expression full of love and the audios are just Tim calling Damian baby and sweetheart. And everyone is cooing but shocked at how great Tim is with Damian, bc baby Damian is laughing and so obviously happy with Tim. That Damian just starts to cry, and everyone is panicking bc he never cries, and he is not stopping anytime soon so they call Tim bc they don't know what to do, and he just drops everything and runs back home to his baby brother. Bc he knows that he is just feeling nostalgic and loved and it's too much. And when he sees Tim all flustered from rushing back home he just latches on like a koala. And have a heart to heart, and it's just brother bonding.

Dick is totally NOT jealous, but Bruce is like "now you know how I feel" but they are both happy they might stop arguing over everything (they don't, they just become each other's confidants)

Anyway, can someone else write a fanfic please.

[an3sth3-sia]

Pretty Heart

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ In which, pain is the only thing keeping you alive

Pairing: Cursed!Saja boys x Cursed!Reader

Warnings: angst, excess use of but, masochist tendency, slight existential crisis, slight mention of death, grief, first person taunting, second person suffering

A/N: I've been obsessed with this movie to the point where I need to curb my hunger and delusions. I wanted to try something different where the reader is stuck remembering all the pain the boys brought her, but is too afraid to lose that pain.

divider from: @/cursed-carmine

For as long as you could remember, the world never stopped moving. But, every so often it did, and when it did, you were always there watching. Watching as they ripped your heart piece by piece taking it with them.

And when the world started moving once again, you were left with the crumbling pieces of what was left of the love you once had—a heart barely enough to hold itself together. A heart forged by the deepest of pain and suffocation of what was called love. 

Love that was cruel. Love that was twisted, and yet you fell for it every time.

In every century, in every boy who left you behind.

Stuck bordering the line between not quite human, and not quite demon, you were just someone stuck in between. 

Cursed to fall in love over and over again until there was no more love to give. 

Cursed to watch as the ones you loved sank deeper and deeper into their ever festering demons. 

Left to atone for their sins that will never be forgiven. 

Cursed to roam this world that would never stop moving. 

Bound to this world that would never let you cross over. Your soul, your body, your entire being will forever stain this world. 

Because as long as the hunters do their job, as long as the honmoon is protecting this world, 

It will always keep you away. 

But that’s just the price you have to pay, right?

Of course, the first time wasn’t your fault, but what about the second? And the third?

I’ve never met anyone who found comfort in misery and pain that was brought by heartbreak. Maybe it was the way you grew up, familial love was non-existent so you ran towards the first person who would look your way. 

You ran and ran for a total of 5 times.

5 times you fell for people who ruined you. People who took everything you had to offer just for you to end up all alone. I can’t seem to recall their names, but I bet you can. What’s the point of having nightmares if you couldn’t remember the ones who caused you to be this way?

But, thanks to you, for every new person you loved came the arrival of a new sin. 

Greed, Lust, Gluttony, Pride, and Envy

The five sins that you will never be able to overcome. Sins that we both know you don’t want to overcome. Maybe this was fate, maybe it was destiny for you to have immortality. 

But, If fate was cruel, what was immortality? 

Immortality was wonderful in theory. The idea of living for a long time to do anything and everything you’ve always wanted, without having to worry about what little time you had left. 

But how does it feel when you watch your loved ones grow older—wrinkles progressing, height shortening, energy depleting? How does it feel to outlive your friends and families that you made over the years?

To attend their funerals and mourn over a loss friendship that you will never get back? Most of all, how does it feel when you realize you will never be loved the way you’ve always wanted? To have someone love you to the point of no return?

Maybe you’ll get your answer one day.

But this is not your fairytale.

And you will never have your happy ending.

“We accept the love we think we deserve”  Stephen Chbosky

A/n: Tbh, I'm not that great of a writer so it'll take awhile for this story to even be written. I'm a big fan of angst and hurting so that's part of why it'll take awhile LOL.

[steddieas-shegoes]

something to remember me by

for @domstevemonth prompt 'marking'

i only found out about this event like two days ago so i'm sorry this is short and rushed, but next year i will do more!

rated e | 775 words | no cw | tags: dom steve, sub eddie, rock star eddie, established relationship, biting, bruises, crying

💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

Eddie’s leaving for tour tomorrow. He’ll be gone for three weeks before Steve can join him.

Three weeks without each other.

It’s the longest they’ve gone since the Upside Down stuff happened, and neither of them are looking forward to it. As excited as Eddie is for finally being able to go on a “real” tour and as excited as Steve is for him, they can only focus on the negative right now.

That’s why Eddie’s under Steve in their bed, arching up into him every time his lips graze a new spot. Steve’s been licking sweat from his body for a while, occasionally brushing soft, barely there kisses against a scar or freckle. They’ve both been hard for long enough that it’s starting to hurt, at least for Steve.

Every once in a while, their dicks rub together, and both of them let out gasps and moans. It’s dry friction, almost painful, but it’s friction all the same. Steve doesn’t like to show how worked up he gets when Eddie’s so pliant under him, not at first. He likes the buildup, the desperation being one-sided until it’s not. He likes making Eddie beg for more out loud, an echo of his own selfish thoughts in his head.

His teeth are aching to bite into his skin, to leave him so marked up no one will even question if he belongs to someone. He wants to make it obvious that he’s missed, that he’s Steve’s.

He starts on his neck, right at the set of freckles at his pulse point. Eddie lets out a high pitched yelp, one hand coming up to rest on the back of Steve’s head.

“Yeah, yeah, more,” Eddie gasps as Steve’s teeth nearly draw blood. “More, baby, please.”

Eddie bruises so easily, he knows this will be dark and purple for days.

He gives him more, bites down his throat, sucks a bruise on his collarbone that has both of them moaning.

When he pulls away for a breath, he admires his work.

“Beautiful,” he says under his breath. Eddie’s always beautiful, but there’s something different about the shine of the sweat and spit on his skin, the red and purple forming into undefined shapes. He glows differently when Steve marks his territory. “Mine.”

Eddie used to hate that, the way Steve claimed him like a possession. He didn’t understand at first that it had nothing to do with Steve seeing him as less than him, or just an object he can do whatever he wants with. It’s always been about having Eddie as an extension of himself, someone to love and care for.

“Yours,” Eddie agrees, nodding as Steve marks up his chest with temporary imprints of his teeth and nips red marks into the scars littering his skin. “Yours forever.”

“Mhm.” Steve kisses his side, right over the worst scars, the ones that are an angrier version of Steve’s. “I love you.”

The words seem to remind them of what’s coming in the morning. Both of them pause. Steve looks up at Eddie with a sad smile, a mirror image of the way Eddie’s looking down at him.

“Are you sure you can’t quit your job and come with me now?” Eddie asks quietly, not for the first time.

“You know I can’t,” Steve answers. “But you won’t miss me too much.”

“Yes I-”

Steve shuts him up by biting his nipple, laughing when Eddie yelps. “I’m giving you plenty to remember me by. We’ll talk on the phone every night. And you’ve got the plug packed up for after shows.”

Eddie whines. “But you won’t be there.”

“In three weeks, I will. And until then, you’ll have plenty of bruises to get you through.”

Steve leaves a bruise on each hip, first with his teeth, then his fingers, digging deep into a wound he hopes doesn’t heal until he sees him again.

“Please. More.”

Eddie always begs so nicely.

Steve always gives him what he wants.

He takes his time, and eventually, Eddie taps out. The tears running down his face are less from the pleasure-pain and more from the sadness of leaving now. Steve made him feel good, but he’s gonna crash too hard if they keep going like this.

They don’t even come that night, both too tired by the time Steve’s done leaving traces of himself wherever he can on Eddie’s body and massaging the aches he caused. He falls asleep with his face buried in Eddie’s side, fingers slotted against the partial handprint he left.

He hopes some of these marks are still there when he sees him again in a few weeks.

[mysticwolfshadows]

Superman and Batman being as they are, when someone new asks how long they've been married. Superman blue screens for a second. Batman, always prepared, reminds the new guy that they don't talk about personal lives while in the masks. Then, ever so subtly, asks Superman if he'll be returning to the cave with him. Code for: private meeting, you and me.

Clark shows up, asking Bruce what the hell happened at the meeting. Bruce confesses that the entire League thinks they're married. Has for years, decades even. Half their villains, too. Robin is even in on it. And Bruce never said anything because it was good for both their covers, since anyone with the misconception would be looking for a gay couple, not two single guys. And they should let people continue to believe it, to keep up that extra layer of protection, but also to not hurt team morale.

Clark agrees, says he'll act the same as he always has, if that was so convincing. That Superman will follow Batman's lead of telling things about their personal lives, just that they're happy, and prefer to keep their identities private.

It works. For how long? Weeks, months, maybe years. But the entire time, Clark is slowly falling in love with Bruce, as other Leaguers manage to convince him to spill things, like what attracted Superman to Batman, what Superman finds most attractive about him, ect.

Eventually something happens. Jason's death, Kon being found, Jon or Damian entering the scene. And they either have to commit to the bit or tell the truth.

With Jason's death, I feel like Clark wouldn't be able to lie about it not being the same. Batman has such a strong reaction, shutting everyone out as he goes on his mad crusade. He'd skip meetings, push Superman away. And Superman has to explain to the League: Robin's dead, no he wasn't my son, he was Batman's, and they aren't actually married. He'd confess, tell the League that he and Batman are just very good friends, and that he'll help Batman through this, and that he's sorry for lying.

For Kon, Bruce at the very least would commit to the bit. Clark would be upset, trying to ignore Kon, but Batman sweeps in, says he'll take care. The League sees Batman not as Superboy's dad, but the dad that stepped up. And there's some good 'good dad Bruce' content there, with Bruce doing it as just part of the cover, but also genuinely caring for Conner, growing to love him just as much he does any of his kids. Definitely have a scene where Batman is helping train Superboy at one of the League bases and gets hurt by Conners lack of control. Superman is about loose it on Conner, only for Batman to rush back in, shouting that Conner is their son and Superman better not dare to hurt him. In turn, Superman shouts back that Conner isn't his son, and they're not actually married, remember? Then pan over, to show the League starring in a mix of horror and shock. Batman takes a deep breath, agrees, but says that he'd gladly take Conner in, have Conner as his son, if Superman won't see how great this young man is, despite how he was made. Batman leaves, Superboy trailing after him, leaving Superman to deal with the fallout with the League.

Depending on how old Jon/Dami are when they come out, Bruce would 100% come up with an elaborate story and script for Batman and Superman. Always done to make Batman look like the bad guy. Spin a tale about an affair Batman had with one of his villians however long ago, with the betrayal too much for Superman to accept.

Eventually, no matter the scenario, the League either thinks they broke up, or knows they weren't together in the first place, and it does shake the team. And Bruce and Clark do get together, and realize they can't tell the team, because things have just gone back to normal and no one is picking sides anymore.

The “We didn’t tell the team we’re married because we didn’t want to ruin the dynamic” trope versus “We didn’t tell the team we’re not married because we didn’t want to ruin the dynamic” but it’s just Batman, Superman, and a whole Justice League’s worth of a team who are somehow emotionally tied to the idea that they are anything other than platonic.

[cozycloudycorner]

ʚ♡ɞ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ʚ♡ɞ

A Message For All Caregivers

ʚ♡ɞ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ʚ♡ɞ

If you're a caregiver, you probably have experience taking care of little ones. You likely have the drive and need to take care of a little and provide for them a safe, loving space where they can cope with regression in a healthy way.

There is nothing wrong with this. In fact, I think it's very admirable to want to take care of a little.

However, please remember to take care of yourself too.

Ask yourself: have I eaten today? Have I drank enough water? Have I taken my meds (if necessary)? Are there any chores or important things I need to do? And, most importantly, am I in the right headspace to be taking care of someone else?

We don't talk enough in the community about how important it is for the caregiver in our lives to be mentally healthy and mentally able to take on the role of a caregiver. I feel that it is extremely important that littles check in with their caregivers and make sure that their caregiver's needs are not being overlooked, just as their caregiver would do for them.

If you are a caregiver with a little and you are having a hard time, talk to them about it. Do not take care of someone before you take care of yourself. This will harm both of you in the long run.

I would also like to add that there is nothing wrong with being unable to care for a little, if you are not in the right headspace. Your boundaries should always be respected, you should not feel forced into taking care of someone if you are unable to for any reason.

But all of that being said, please remember how important you are and how much we appreciate you for being here.

To all caregivers who are doing their best, thank you.

ʚ♡ɞ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ʚ♡ɞ

[lambcultist]

　　　　𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐍. 𝐸.𝒲.

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 — ‧₊˚ ⋅ part one here ! ellie must learn to be okay with what terrifies her as you begin to fight the invasion of your respiratory system. she's going to light a fire for you, no matter how much it burns her skin, as she is determined not to be the reason you go cold.

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 — ‧₊˚ ⋅ MINORS DNI ( 18+ ) modern au. brother's best friend!ellie williams x fem!reader. ellie has haphephobia (fear of touch). reader has... something (hanahaki disease). reader also has anxiety and insecurities. angst. disaster lesbians. vivid descriptions of: hospitals, ptsd, foster system + past child abuse, poor mental health, panic attacks + fear, terminal illness + symptoms of nausea, vomiting, coughing, needles, medications (morphine) — gross/graphic descriptions, warning for squeamish readers. hurt / comfort. reader is 19, ellie is 21.

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 — ‧₊˚ ⋅ this part includes discussion of ellie's backstory, involving child abuse and neglect as well as the foster system. she suffers ptsd and this is where her haphephobia originated from—i've tried to portray this with respect and realism. there is no vivid description of these events but heavy mentions/references to it. just a trigger warning! i love this little fic so much. i don't know what to call this? a mini mini-series? a duology? anyway— sorry this part took so long. thank you for reading, i love you. and ellie. aaaaaaaaa.

　　　　m.list　wc — 7k.　mdni, please ♡

a constant itch irritating your arm, a monotonous beeping that grates your ears, a soulless room. it's gloomy, the only light granted by an overcast sky through the window.

you're waiting for a different kind of natural light. waiting, and waiting, and waiting, and it's taking its sweet time.

this is supposed to be comfortable. this was intended to be a comfortable few days. end of life care.

it's been one month. there's nothing comfortable about this.

morphine flows through your veins, it masks the aches only for a little. you barely notice how your breath stutters and shakes anymore, it's easier with the aid of the drug, but you're just not sure that it's better than being at home, conscious of every impairment.

you try not to look at the iv as much as it begs your attention. it will only make you feel sick.

the clock ticks away every second until dark. every hour blends into one another, each nurse flowing through the room seeming like they are simply the same words in a different font. you think you remember receiving another dose of morphine, but it doesn't feel like it.

your phone screen lights your face as you check the time. ten.

your eyes close and you think of her. it isn't like it used to be. it's not that you wonder what she is doing or if she is thinking of you. it's that she promised a visit soon.

if you get through this night, you'll be able to see her sooner.

you own a stuffed animal named hope. you couldn't touch the poor thing as your descent into ill-health turned dangerously fast. you'd look at the bear and think about how ridiculous the name is.

you've clung to hope for years and it's as if reality has slapped you in the face for it; a punishment for your wistfulness, served in rose scented bile.

hope was futile.

but now, it doesn't feel that way; ellie made progress.

so, hope sits in your lap day in and day out. she shares this gurney with you, and you squeeze and play and fidget with her. a piece of home, youth, and a reminder to fight what once seemed like a losing battle.

another hour passes. turning over and lying on your side takes the breath out of you for a moment, a hoarse gasp following after the action. it is never this hard, usually.

you squeeze onto hope. those browned curls warm your chest, the fluff soft on your fingertips, but you don't feel any less alone.

being a special case sucks.

they needed to give you a room away from other patients. from the moment you were wheeled into the emergency room you were treated like a risk. some people have allergies, you know. it made you bitter. your flowers are something beautiful.

you may be overly attached to something that harms you more than it does care for you. but ellie gave you these flowers. she's turned you into a walking perfume. maybe if those people knew who she was, they'd understand rather than turn up a nose and cringe at the scent.

sebastian sees you for a few minutes each day. he wears a mask—he told you the smell of florals puts him in a bad mood these days. he answers the phone slower these days.

your mother has been busy with work.

something tells you that's bullshit.

the nurses lack in personality. they're all bubbly and kind and at first, they seemed to look over you with pity. now, they seem eager to get your bed empty and ready for the next unfortunate patient.

are they getting careless? with time racing toward you until you meet your fate, perhaps they think it wiser to save resources? something about the dose you received earlier just wasn't right. it's not supposed to wear off this fast, right?

you're not supposed to be feeling like this anymore. that flicker of hurt inside your ribcage every time you take in a breath is back. the embrace of silence isn't supposed to be this goddamn loud. your ears ring as you glance around the dark room, something eerie in the way that cars and sirens yell and screech in the city outside.

the symphony of chaos out there is overarching at this point, you cannot even hear your pulse. but you can feel your feet tapping against the end of the bed like a metronome out of time.

you search your brain for lyrics that make sense and nothing of the sort erupts. it's all blurred—it's all panic. i don't wanna be alone anymore. you just want out, every thought pointing towards the door. if you had the strength to rip off all these needles and wires and march out there, take your life back, you might've done it already.

you tenderly brush a petal from the top of hope's head after coughing, reaching towards the side table for your phone. however late it may be now doesn't matter, you need noise; something that won't make you feel so small.

ellie put together a pretty good playlist for you. that'll do.

you underestimate the effort it requires to get your phone at this very moment, an audible whine leaving your lips as you stutter and struggle for breath. it pulls something. some neglected muscle in your back lashes out and you draw back into the bed.

hope tumbles out of your hold and onto the floor.

so you're not even allowed the solace of material comfort today, huh?

you have a hundred 'last straw's every day. this was the last of the last. you're in pain.

her fingers move along the fretboard with a practised passion, the joints tired out after hours of rehearsal and perfecting. sometimes ellie writes, but nights like these, she remembers why she doesn't do it often.

it doesn't come right the first time around. not ever.

she stops and watches the window. the sky is a blank canvas tonight, no stars nor flashing lights, just blackness and fog. her eyes follow the usual path around her room, twinkling string lights and old polaroids on the wall. those ones were her first happier memories.

ellie sighs, her fingers resorting to picking a random, comfortable pattern on the strings of her guitar as she stares down at the words scrawled into her journal. the acoustic rests in her lap and the pen hooked into the strap of her top.

she decides it's time to quit for the night. rearranging this bridge a fourteenth time is fruitless, because still, nothing could describe the feeling she had when she finally had the courage to hold your hand.

and still, nothing can describe how pathetic she feels for being afraid to do it again.

ellie liked it. she really, truly did. she cradled your hand with the same gentleness present in the way she holds the neck of her guitar. she took care and warmed every bone in your fingers, rubbed her thumb across the back of your palm to help you breathe.

she wasn't only doing something good for herself, but for you—she was admitting to you her blindness. she was taking the first step in the right direction.

now, ellie can't seem to replicate the same bravery she walked into your bedroom with. she's just a coward.

the first step is supposed to be the hardest—why did it feel so easy?

why doesn't anything feel as easy since?

she lets out a sigh, deep and slow, rubbing her face and moving her guitar to the bed. she's closing the blinds when her phone begins to vibrate and she squints a bit, fishing through her pockets. probably some scammer, she doesn't have anyone to call her these days—

okay, definitely not a scammer.

it's you.

answering feels just as easy as holding your hand felt. maybe it's the spontaneity. she doesn't have a chance to think about it, really. all ellie knows is that it's past midnight and you've called her.

no hello, no joking around—none of that, simply her voice rushing to beat yours. 

"are you okay? it's late."

"ellie, i just wanna hear your voice." nothing could prepare ellie for the way your voice sounds. she's never felt such a strong punch to the gut, but your voice—wavering and weak, quite clearly in the throes of tears—it has the impact of a hard fist. "please. i'm scared."

and she softens quickly, holding her breath so that she can hear all of you. how your own breath hitches, your tone runs pitchy around the edges, you sniffle. she can picture you in a hospital bed with teary eyes, and fuck. it's not right.

"i'm here." ellie sits at the edge of her bed, lip drawing between her teeth. she won't draw attention to your cries. it's not what you need.

"everything hurts," you say through a gasp. there's no need for convincing, ellie believes you from just the sound of your pain alone. there's a familiarity in the heartache, it's something ellie knows too, now.

"i'm here," she repeats. she feels so stupidly capable right now, her shoulder pressing the phone to her ear as she holds her hands together, rubbing the skin so gently as though it is your softness she caresses. she's losing herself to the thought of what she thinks she'd do in your presence at this moment. "i'm always here, don't panic. do you need me to be here when you go to sleep?"

without hesitance, you respond. "yes." and something of it makes ellie feel as though she's neglected you. she needs to hear your voice now, and not just muted by the peaking and crackling static of a call; she needs to be at your bedside. 

and there's no questioning that you need it too. she doesn't need to see you to know what you need. you need to see her courage once more.

"okay, baby— i—" she buries her face into her hand and suppresses a groan, rubbing out her temple. vulnerability is clawing its way out of her throat and yet, something in her still tries to stop it before it becomes too much. calling you that, ugh… it felt like second nature. "okay, i'm gonna stay on the line."

"everything hurts, it's too much," you say. you tried to speak, anyway—it comes out in a whisper, as though that's all you can manage. "can't breathe."

"i need you to try," ellie encourages. "but just slowly. think, maybe it hurts because you need to slow down, yeah?"

slow or fast, light or deep, breathing feels as though it's twisting each thorn, piercing your heart and your lungs. ellie may be right. maybe, it's your fear that does it. after all, these flowers have what seems to be their own intuition, and they prey on your anxiety.

and ellie's just as lost, trying to talk you down—god, if she could hold you right now…

you hear your name and it startles you to attention once more. "just need you to make it through this night, okay?" she asks. "if you get some sleep, yeah, i'll come hang out with you tomorrow?"

"yes, yeah," you reply shortly, sniffling. "please."

it's quieter after that. ellie coaxes you into silence, she promises you there will be warmth tomorrow. whatever that means, it brings you the slightest hope once more.

going through the motions of the morning was difficult for ellie. 

the shower burnt her skin red and raw yet she swore the water was lukewarm, her breakfast took its time going down, and when she sat in her car and turned the heater on, the air leaving the vents felt icy. she had not the patience for anything, her mind askance.

more like, she was waging war with herself—i got this. i'm gonna march into that room and take back what i lost. of course, the situation is not 'all or nothing', even if that's how she treats it. there are baby steps necessary for her recovery, but she'd rather not give herself flowers for those. and ellie's well aware that she's setting herself up for disappointment by rejecting the small wins. it's like trying to knock down a stone wall with a wrecking ball made of cardboard. it doesn't work.

she just wants to be normal; she just wants to be what you need.

and walking into that gloomy room, scanning every wire hooked up to your body, and, frankly, her ears assaulted by all kinds of beeping, it raises her hackles. hospitals are quiet, until they're not. they're all hushed voices and whispered reassurances, only for that to be combated by monitors and machines ellie has no idea the purpose of. they feel malicious.

"hey." 

the word startles you. but ellie sees nothing but relief in the softness of your gaze.

"hi."

ellie takes a seat, and she feels like she's accidentally just glued herself to this spot— it's something she'd liken to a duty of care. like she can't leave. "so, you're feeling better after last night? i wish i could've done more, you know, but…"

"the nurse gave me a lighter dose by mistake," you reply. "that's why i was in so much pain." your voice sounds more distant, more uncaring of what words come out—your eyes run ovals around her. it's as if you can barely believe she's sitting here. it's the fairest sight you've had since your last day at home, and you thank heavens she's not changed. every freckle is where you last pictured it, the corners of her lips curl up with awkward hesitance, that one strand of hair that never sat with the rest is still antagonising her.

her hands are bare. no gloves.

"shit, for real? that's fuckin'..." ellie trails off, replacing what would have been a protective rant with a simple sigh.

she doesn't like this. nobody does, seeing you weak and scared, perishing in the coldest place imaginable. but that doesn't make it fair to avoid you.

it doesn't make her want to be here any less. ellie's almost shocked by herself when her eyes lay upon your hand and she feels this absurd, unconscious jolt in her own hand with the instinct to reach out.

"how's your mom? and seb..?" she asks, her eyes set on your hands as much as yours are on hers.

"uh… next question?" you murmur, flashing a lopsided grin.

"oh." ellie blinks, and again, she feels that tightening in her wrist, this urge she's barely able to restrain. "you haven't seen them?"

"not for a few weeks," you say, shaking your head. "they're really busy lately." 

ellie can tell you believe that excuse as much as she does. and what does it make her feel? it's unusual for her. it targets something tucked away inside of her, blanketed by confusion and tears; the inner child.

she finds herself wanting to whine. that's not fair. 

"that's— but they're— you're their baby. they can't make some time?"

you brush it off with a croaky voice, taking the cup of water at your bedside and having a small sip. "i'm not sure. it's fine though."

her eyes flick from your hands to your lips, the skin no longer as soft as it used to be, instead dry. it reminds her of that post-crying feeling, and even worse is the barely restrained hurt in your eyes that she catches. 

ellie knows it isn't fine. it isn't fair. she's been lonely. she's been the black sheep in every herd she was passed between, she's been the skeleton hidden in tiny closets. she was young, and innocent, and so easily forgotten. passed from family to family, no stay intended to be permanent, she suffered—she was deprived of attention.

it was always the warmer families that couldn't keep her, and the colder ones that she had to endure for longer. she was replaced, she was ignored, she was neglected, so long that touch soon felt like a foreign luxury. 

and soon, it became not a luxury, but something to fear. for a while the only touch ellie felt would be a push or shove on the playground, and of course, she'd push back and scoff (and perhaps use some language too vulgar for her age). it became something to cry over when she'd leave detention and whomever she was under the care of would be waiting for her. arriving to an address that was not hers, different homes that never felt like home, where human mistakes left bruises on her body.

touch became something worth flinching over. she learned to see kicks and punches coming before they left their impact.

and now that it's all over, ellie never unlearned that.

inside, there's still a little girl who aches for love. it stung, but she craved it. and to ellie, looking at you, withering and wilting by the lack of her affections, it feels like looking at that little girl.

so she feels that she is being pulled, suddenly, the legs of her chair screeching across the floor so she may sit as close as possible. it's no conscious effort, just her limbs working in tandem with what her heart needs at this moment.

ellie reaches, and then pauses, breathing in through her nose. "can i—?"

your lips work into a small, but reassuring smile, pursed tight to contain excitement. you don't want to be overwhelming, or intimidating, or too desperate, or whatever else—doesn't matter if your entire predicament is the overwhelming result of a desperate yearning, you tense like a statue just in case. "of course."

from their frozen position in the air, her hands finally move. you weren't sure where she was going for, but ellie has been telling herself this is what she would do to ever since the last time she saw you. 

she cups your face, palms meeting your cheeks slowly, as though she holds a piece of her very soul in her hands.

your two sets of slow breathing mingle in the silence of the room, and for seconds ellie just holds your face. then, her thumbs caress the high points; they run along your cheekbones, her callouses press into the curve of your jawline, as though mapping out every depth or crevice in your face. analysing the structure, appreciating the curves and the softness, not only with her skin, but her eyes. it feels like she can see through you, and it's not even an invasive feeling. in fact, it's not been this easy for you to breathe in a long time.

ellie thinks of her half-written poetry from last night. her mind is fresh with ideas, the passion reborn. she's realising it now, that unless she turns this into a habit, she won't be able to remember how it feels to touch your skin. she'll be back tomorrow, or maybe she won't even leave. it would be alright to hold your hand as you sleep.

your cheeks, once lifelessly icy, now warmed by ellie, rest in the palm of her hands like they are a bed. her face is rose-flushed, but more calm than earlier. inside, there's fire spreading from heart to hands. it doesn't burn like she thought it would. sure, the initial connection was scorching, but now it's comfortable, healing.

something beautiful happened. you would describe ellie's touch like some kind of healing power, in fact, so might she, in a different way; things that used to feel impossible for the both of you are quite easier.

you can breathe on your own, without medical interference—no drugs, no machines. your voice is clearer, food stays down, you can stay awake. ellie wasn't aware of it herself until you stood for the first time in weeks. it was like she had seen a ghost rise from the grave.

of course, it wasn't like you'd taken any miracle cure. you were frail and failing to maintain your balance. it was okay, though, because ellie darted over to catch you. she walked you to the café downstairs.

she could see herself quickly becoming nothing short of an addict to the feeling of your skin beneath her fingertips. when once she was uncomfortable by the feeling of another's shirt, she now feels like it isn't enough to dig her fingers into your pyjamas.

doctors who were certain you were perishing before were now bemused. tests and scans were ordered.

not only was there a clearer picture and tidier result, but the specialists found that what little was left of your flowers were charred. it aligned with what nurses had been reporting as well—a higher body temperature, and black, dried petals leaving your system. 

the hanahaki was dying, and you were blossoming. eyes brighter and face rounder, fuller, softer.

you could go home.

and it could've been better—perhaps it would've felt nicer if your room had been cleaned before you got home, and if things weren't so awkward between you and your family—you can't help looking with bitter eyes at them for how they had acted. it was like you were disposable. 

but getting to see ellie for the first time since you got home makes up for it all. strategically planned so that your mother and sebastian won't be around, of course.

you open the door before she can knock. it's like the tables have turned, and ellie is the one who struggles to breathe when you're near, looking so alive and so comfortable like this, with a smile on your face that knocks the wind out of her lungs, and a recovered lust for life. 

"hi," you say with a small nod, and you inch closer almost hesitantly, which she notices, of course. to save you the trouble of asking for it, she wraps her arms around your middle and holds you. 

but you don't miss the hitch in her breath. still, every time you touch, she stiffens or holds her breath. what would you take it for, if not discomfort? this time, though, when you try to pull away, ellie snorts a little and tightens her grip, nosing into your neck.

"you're fine, baby."

the look on her face when she pulls away is reverent and somewhat sheepish, the corner of her lips curled up and eyelids heavy. if there's one thing ellie hates about this, it's the process. why can't she snap her fingers and be rid of the side effects of her past? why must she sit through all of the messy feelings, the awkwardness, the way that touch still makes her skin blister even when she likes it?

and how, still, are you so patient with her?

"listen, so, uh… i wasn't sure if you ever wanna see another damn flower again, but, i figured you deserve something nice, right?" ellie pushes the single tulip forward, shrugging one shoulder. "s'not a rose, at least. think you might hate them now. that would be reasonable, yeah.."

you nod, that same grin on your face as always, plucking the flower from her grip. "this is okay. but— can i have another hug..? just one more?"

"oh—" ellie's throat tightens, arms opening before her mouth. "sweet girl, you don't even need to ask. c'mere."

this time, you sink into her. it's like being doused in fire, her body warming yours on the way to the car, all because she couldn't bring herself to let go. and that brings another one of those half smiles to her face that she always tries to hide. a hint of pride. progress.

she thinks about resting a hand over your thigh on the drive—it would be even better progress, but something makes her hesitate. something of a debate takes place in her mind before she finally does it, and once more, she feels that sense of pride. the pride of each move forward burns every doubt as though they're pages in an old diary.

plus, ellie truly enjoys the way your leg tenses beneath her hand and how you're quick to gaze out the window with the hint of a smile on your lips.

the drive is empty of conversation, the space filled by the stereo, and it should be that everything about this is already familiar to you. the route, the person, the intention. you're heading to the park, but this time you sit in the passenger seat, you actually trust that the driver will keep you safe (you'd never tell your brother this, but ellie is a far calmer driver than him), and your stomach isn't tying itself into knots. your breathing isn't stifled by stems and thorns and petals.

sometimes you still struggle with chasing for her touch now you've had your samples of it, but it battles with the need to make her comfortable. and so, you grip onto her sleeve as you walk to the old ice cream van stationed in its typical spot. your fingers cling to the fabric, pulling it taut, in the hopes that it won't hurt her, but soothe your need. 

"cookies and cream?" ellie asks, glancing down. your heart lurches when she starts pulling her arm back, only to replace her sleeve with her hand.

you search her for fear from the corner of your eye, but there's no wide eyes or bitten lips. "uh, yeah. i miss it."

"i'll have it too," she says, giving you a fond grin. "you don't know how much of the stuff i've been pigging out on these past few months. it makes me think of you."

you let out an involuntary giggle, squeezing her hand. "i extended my comfort food to you?"

"pretty much, yeah." ellie nods. "i started gorging myself the second i got kicked out of your house."

"well, i'll take that as though you were doing so in my honour," you reply, a cheesy grin on your face. "i missed having an appetite."

soon enough, with a cone in each of your hands, you sit beside ellie on a bench and share a comfortable silence. birds sing in the distance, trees shielding you from the summer fever.

ellie is so unusually quiet that it's powerful, and you turn your head towards her at the very moment that she is, apparently, leaning closer, and the sudden contact makes her jump back this time—something about the unpredictability of it frightened her.

"jesus, you almost killed me."

"oh—! sorry. payback, i guess, because you almost k—"

once ellie closes her mouth (that comment rattled her a bit too hard), she gives you a light pinch on the arm. "don't say that kinda stuff, that's morbid as fuck. i didn't try to—"

"sorry," you repeat, laughing softly. "it's a little bit funny though."

"it's not funny." ellie's words are betrayed by her own chuckle, however. "that's a sore spot still."

"alright, i won't say that again. you have my word." you give ellie a tiny salute, then nod your head to the ice cream sitting idle in her hand. she's barely touched it, if at all. "are you okay? just.. thinking a lot?"

ellie glances down at her hand, a stream of melted ice cream dripping down her skin. "uh… yeah. just…"

she takes a pause, eyes flitting back to you, landing on your lips. she realises she must look like a deer in the headlights, and forces herself to look away with a halfhearted shrug of her shoulders.

"i'm just happy we're here."

why can't i just kiss her? ellie wracks her brain on the way home, so distracted she's driving on autopilot. the world passes by in blurs of colour, her heavy huffs of breath the only sound in the car. the scent of your perfume still lingers in your wake, and when she's idling at a red light, ellie looks over to the empty passenger seat. the sight of a little black petal clinging to the seat makes her smile, but it doesn't reach her eyes.

it's like you leave a little trail, the occasional remains of scorched flowers following you wherever you've been. maybe she'll pop this one into her journal tonight.

ellie takes the long way home. it's filled with deep sighs and her white-knuckling the steering wheel, her inner monologue rather unhelpful. if only she could explain why she halts right on the edge every time she is about to meet a goal.

she tries. she really thought she could do it today. she felt so ready to grasp your chin and press a little kiss on your smile, but she faltered at the last second, when you turned and caught her staring. fucking faltering. she always does it.why am i so fucking scared? she grits her teeth, willing herself not to pull over when tears start to pool. she's nearly home, anyway. yeah, she narrowly avoided death trying to merge with blurry vision and some asshole in her blind spot. but she just wants to be home.

it's like drowning in shallow waters; she should be fine, but something is holding her hostage. something keeps her holding her breath, something's weighing so heavy on her that she can't pull herself out. there's always something ugly working behind the scenes to keep her from living. whether she's conscious of it or not, there's a memory or an instinct that rears its head. nightmares, flinches, even a small gasp—it's as if her body remembers it more than her mind.

a hand near her head, it makes her think her hair will be yanked.

a movement too sudden, it makes her want to brace for impact, only for it to be the gentlest embrace.

ellie hates it. she hates the way you pull back with a crease worrying your brows and that cloying tone of voice ringing in her ears, the apologies and the check-ins. because she loves the touch. it felt so freeing to admit such a thing for the first time. ellie loves to touch you, but she's so scared, still, and what's worse is that pit of guilt that forms in her stomach every time she fails.

she needs this—to no longer be so alone, and to take up space, and to touch. for the little girl she once was, who was not given the grace to do those things. 

if healing was measurable, that would make this simpler. but it's easy to get lost in the wishes and the goals. it's not so easy to think about the journey it takes to meet those goals.

"ellie? ellie. did you mean to call? or did you butt dial?"

"no…" ellie murmurs. she holds her phone against her ear and closes her eyes. she definitely made somewhat of a spectacle by calling and saying absolutely nothing in return when you answered. "i wanted to call. just… want you to talk to me."

"oh… okay," you reply. she can hear the pleasant surprise in your voice, that and something like fondness. "that's kinda cute, els. you dropped me off two hours ago."

"yeah, i, uh— i miss you." the phone doesn't catch her sniffling, but it carries the shaking current in her words. "can you start talking my ear off now?"

"what— well, yes, but what's wrong?" 

"nothing, what do you mean?"

"come on, ellie," you groan, and she can picture you pinching the bridge of your nose like you always do when she's said something silly. but really, it's far from that. you're pushing your phone up to your ear and spamming the volume button so that you can hear her over the sound of your own increasing heartbeat, fidgeting with the bottom of your shirt. "you're being all standoffish and stuff. like you've got something you need to get off your chest."

"uh… no." she clears her throat quite roughly, her free hand swiping at her eyes. "i just wanna hear your voice."

you know you shouldn't push. ellie will come to you when she's ready, like she always does, but this gnaws at you. it's hard to find a new topic when your brain drifts into all the possible explanations for ellie's hurt.

you never want to be the reason she's hurting. and if you are? what if you are? if you pushed boundaries today, or if you're just moving too fast? 

"okay, well, i miss you too," you begin. "i really like it when we hug. it's so warm and, like, comforting."

"i like it too," she says slowly. "you left a lil petal in my car."

"oh, right, that was probably from that coughing fit i had," you muse. "it really hurt, actually."

"you were very loud about that."

"how am i supposed to be quiet about choking?" you snort, but the moment is short lived. you're getting to the bottom of this. "can you please tell me what's wrong? we don't even have to dwell on it. just let me know."

"ah, it's just…" she lets out a flustered sigh, then starts to mumble. "just feeling generally shitty. that's all. i'm stressed. it's nothing you need to be worrying about."

"it's you, els, i do need to worry about it." you choose your words carefully but they flow easily. loving ellie has never required effort. you've spent years waiting for her to see it, and now it's the easiest it's ever been to show her. "i care. and i will always be here. i'm never going to vanish. i think i've made it very fucking clear i don't plan on doing that. i'm stubborn."

"yeah…" ellie swallows thickly and rests her chin in the palm of her hand, eyeing her lonely bedroom. "it's guilt. for… i dunno… just…"

you let ellie fall into silence. she's gathering the words to explain herself with—at least, you hope she is—and that is something you do not want to be pushy with.

"i hate how long this is taking," she says finally. "i want it. i'm ready for it. but my mind is just— it's like it's on a completely different track. i love you. but i'm so pathetic. i've made you wait so long."

"this isn't about me," you say. "i waited for you because i wanted to, and i'll wait as long as it takes. actually, i'm really impressed by you. you're making progress."

"but it's not fair. i hate that you have to be cautious. i wish— i mean, i wish i was normal. i wish i could snap out of it."

you stop her before she spirals further into a self deprecating rant, hushing her very gently. "you are normal. you're learning how to react to things that happened to you that should have never happened. and you're taking huge steps towards healing. and i am so proud of you. i really am."

"i'm scared, but it's not even about touch anymore," ellie murmurs, this time her sniffles sounding clear down the line. "i don't want to be too much. i don't want you to leave."

"i'm never leaving," you reply, voice softening like a blanket. "i love you, ellie. you couldn't get rid of me even if you tried."

by all means, you should be dead right now. you were knee deep in the grave when ellie came back and she battled her way into pulling you out. brute force and fear and love combined had made a new version of ellie, one who was determined to walk you out of that hospital.

"i just… can't.. accept myself," ellie says.

"you can't accept the journey," you correct, "look at the bigger picture, els. you are able to live life now in a way you could never have imagined one year ago. i haven't seen you wearing gloves in a while. that's incredible."

"i figured they were holding me back," she mumbles sheepishly. "i try not to wear them unless i really have to."

"see? that's amazing." you smile. "when i think about the past year, i think about all the milestones. i think about the first time we held hands, then when you traced my face, then when you sat in the hospital bed with me. i think you forget that this is a process and that you're gonna struggle with it sometimes, but that's just realistic. you can't make any progress at all if you won't allow yourself to fail."

"yeah," ellie whispers. she's resorted to fiddling with the little black petal she took home, her heart swelling as she listens to your voice. the calm of it all, the patience that never dies. she blinks back tears, and then speaks up. "thanks baby."

"do you feel a little bit less like the entire world is about to crush you into tiny pieces?"

"yes." ellie lets out a halfhearted laugh, smiling. "can you please start yapping about random shit now?"

"ugh, alright. you're gonna make me lose my voice again. actually, that might be a good thing. then i won't be so annoying."

ellie lets you continue without interruption. she holds that petal up to her chest, balled into her fist, and mulls over the conversation.

she's got to keep trying.

burnt flowers became few and far between, your coughing spells less frequent than ever. ellie noticed this before you did, and it was the biggest encouragement to her conquering her fears. she was healing, finally, and so were you—all because of her. 

life has this sense of normalcy now. she doesn't bristle at the feeling of a stranger passing by, she goes without her gloves more often. she gets less stares in public. ellie can see her old best friend without him looking as though she did something bad anymore; she just isn't alone.

she can wake from terrors in the middle of the night and no longer does she have to face them alone, crying in the dark and curling into balls. you're there to bring her back down when fear shoots up her spine. you, and hope—the teddy bear, that is, but the figurative idea as well. the unwavering patience, the trust, the optimism. 

ellie can hold your hand. she can hold you. she can snuggle and play with your hair, and she likes hers to be touched too. she can feel herself never wanting to let go of you. things she only ever heard of in tales of romance and vows, that she never thought she'd get to have. things she didn't think she even deserved. 

she thought she'd die alone, and now she's drawing pictures of you in her journal and scribbling promises beneath them; forever, sweet girl.

"this is a lot of touching and not a lot of drawing," you say, laughing softly at her distraction. you don't mind one bit, of course.

when you were in hospital, and ellie had caressed every inch of surface on your face, she had tried to take it all into her memory. now, she makes a habit of it, and insists it makes it easier to draw. you think she's simply sheepish about how much she enjoys it after all these years of avoidance.

"then don't be so pretty," ellie murmurs, swiping her thumb over your lashes. your eyes flutter and she catches her lip between her teeth, stifling a sigh.

there is one goal she hasn't met yet. 

still, she hasn't kissed you. 

she comes so close and every time something stops her. at first it was her own reluctance, now, it's like life won't give her the chance. last time she tried, it felt like there was some divine being fucking with her—the sky started pouring over the both of you as soon as the moment stood still enough for her to lean in.

this time, ellie's going to seize the moment. it starts with the light urge to kiss every individual lash, then your browbone, then of course, her eyes flick to your lips as though it's instinct.

she wonders if you think she's going to chicken out again, but you're none the wiser to her intentions in the first place right now. she thinks she's putting signals out with her eyes so heavy on yours, but she hasn't seen what you see. she hasn't seen the way she looks at you on a daily basis—this is no different; her eyes are practically hearts. you feel her gazing upon your every move, never to judge, but instead to possess.

her thumb now moves to your lower lip, shaky but sure as she gently parts your smile. and your lips, no longer dry or sore, but now pillowy and smooth, are the catalyst for what she is about to do. it reminds her how long you have waited, how much you have suffered, and her the same. the neglect, the rejections, the simmering anxieties.

the final push is thanks to the shared progress translated by your lips, the healing on both ends of a love that stays ignited, crackling, and refuses to burn no matter how long it stays lit.

ellie closes her eyes and at last, her soul feels whole, lips meeting yours for the very first time. she knows it is the first of many, because even as she runs out of breath, she can't pull away. it's much like a standoff, neither of you urgent to let go of the other after all this time.

and it pains you to be the one who pulls away first, but you were beginning to feel increasingly faint. you open your eyes but ellie is sat still as a pole, her eyes sewn shut for seconds after the kiss, her cheeks ablaze.

"you nearly killed me," you mumble, giggling at the way that she glares at you after.

"you are not allowed to say that, remember?"

"it was too good not to say right now!" you erupt into laughter as she grunts and tackles you without a moment's waste, your back hitting the bed and face attacked in the softest way imaginable; her lips scouting every area, a kiss planted in each spot like a claim. "okay, easy, easy. i love you too."

🏷️ @dolleyedfemme @valeisaslut @eriiwaii @ellieshothousewife @piercedome @therealhexstrap @jinxedbambi @heyimrye @rhian88 @g4ys0n @yoosohh @marvelwomenarehot0 @l0veylace @gold-dustwomxn @yashirawr @httpsiluvizzy @areyna

thank you for reading as always ♡

[mullermilkshake]

New arrivals

Part 29 <- Part 30 -> Part 31

The babies are here, you and Jinwoo try to have some family time.

Yandere!Jinwoo Sung x Fem!reader Tags - New mom! reader, Dilf!Jinwoo, Fluff, Depictions of blood and violence, Knives, Death?

<<< For more Dark/Yandere content, click this link to go back to the Masterlist! >>>

<<< Or back to this fic's Master list. >>>

I have only watched the anime and haven't gotten round to reading the manhwa yet. Please refrain from spoilers.

TAG LIST RE-OPEN (The tag list is back up and open for a little while, if you'd like to be tagged, please let me know! 🤗)

“Thank you, Jinwoo.”

You wouldn’t have been able to do all this without his help. 

Two babies, fresh smelling and wrapped in their little blankets in acrylic boxes. They were so tiny, so little in the world right from you before their first breath.

You did that. You gave birth to those beautiful little things and had no idea on what names to give them.

“Me? For what? Baby, you did all the hard work.” Jinwoo studied the twins just as you did, his little finger linking with yours in a way to connect with you.

“Thank you for advocating for me when I needed you. When we needed you.” 

Baby number one, you named him until the right name came to you. Baby number two you named her until you could decide another name that suited her.

“I’ll always advocate for you.” He said, finally wrapping his arm around you to hold you up.

You were still weak, though strong enough to stand on your own two feet for a little while and see the amusement in a serious time. “I don’t know what you said to the doctor, but she kept looking at you like she was about to cry.”

The thought made you giggle quietly, noting her tired and almost prettified look whenever she noticed Jinwoo in the room. He never told you, which made it all the most mysterious.

He rubbed his finger on each incubator in the eased quiet. “Sometimes people just need a voice.”

“Speaking of.” You said, watching him closely for an idea he might have. “I don’t know what to call them. I think your input is important in this.”

He shook his head thoughtfully and held you firmly. “Baby, you made them, you birthed them, you did all the hard work. I think it’s only right you name them too, any name you give them I know I’ll love.” 

“I’m not sure… we never got around to discuss it.”

Jinwoo didn’t expressly say it, but you knew that saddened look on anyone. “I’m sorry. I never should have gone to that raid. We could have talked about it-“

“You didn’t know. It’s alright. You’re back now.” 

He couldn’t blame himself, not like that.

“I’m glad to be back… Now that my memories returned, what about your mana? Anything changed?”

“No, nothing. I have a feeling I’m not getting it back… but it’s okay. I think I’m coming to terms with it.”

Jinwoo wanted to speak but was caught short by his phone ringing again. You saw the screen, an unknown number.

He cursed under his breath and pocketed his phone frustratedly. “That’s another unknown number that’s called in the last twenty four hours.”

“Why not answer it?”

“Because I’m spending time with my family. A phone call doesn’t come between that.”

Your heart melted into a blob right inside your chest. Jinwoo couldn’t have been more indirectly sweet and meaningful if he tried.

Pulling your glance away from your babies for a minute, you kissed him, lingering your lips on his, bodies close and content.

“I love you.”

“I love you.” Jinwoo slipped your hand into his. “Just so you know, that when I couldn’t remember you, my body did. And my mind, it fell in love with you all over again so quickly.”

Was he intentionally being romantic at a time of your vulnerability? Or were you just that gaga over him and you never realised?

“I missed you more than you know.” 

“I knew I missed you. It was on the tip of my tongue, the information was there but I couldn’t access it. I wanted to reach out to you, to touch you and breathe you in, but my brain didn’t allow it. It didn’t connect like it was meant to.”

You hung on his every word, studying the features of his face to ingrained them in your brain so you could identify him in the darkness, or from a crude sketch.

“Speaking of which.” Jinwoo rifled through his pocket. “I knew once I got my memories back that I'd remember, I just couldn’t place it. I took these from the dungeon boss's treasure it has stocked up in there.”

Two bangles, two miniature bangles to fit a child. 

“You got these?”

“After I lost those memories of you and the twins, I knew they were special, but I didn’t know why.” He placed them in your hand and closed your fingers over them.

They were cool to the touch, ice cold almost, like they had their own life force. Beautiful and weighted, like they were hand crafted with care and all the love of a joyful parent, combined into a little ring of gold.

“It’s the twins ‘welcome to the world’ present from their dad.” 

He lifted the bangle from your hand with the duller shine first, the other which shined perfectly in the grim artificial hospital lights, it practically became its own light source. “This is called Hero’s pride. And this one is a good luck charm. One for each of them to keep as they grow up.”

“Jinwoo… they’re beautiful.”

“You decide who they go to, I’m sure you’ll be able to decide their names after.”

Good luck charm… Hero’s pride. 

“Alright-“

A shrill scream split through the hospital hallway. Jinwoo left your touch and stood between the twins incubators and the doors.

“What is it, Jinwoo? It sounds like Hae-in, is it her- is it Hae-in?” You instinctively joined Jinwoo��s side, tugging at his shirt for his response.

“I think-“

“No! They’re taking my baby, stop it! Leave him alone!”  

“Oh my god… we need to help her, Jinwoo. Did she say what I thought she-“

"Jong-in's there, he can handle it."

You stuttered with an unbelievable shock, “J-Jinwoo, we have to help her. We can't just stand here.”

"I'll be putting you and the twins at risk if I do."

"We'll be fine- just please, go and see what's going on."

“Lock the door. Don’t let anyone in.” Even with his direct orders, Jinwoo was hesitant, he was conflicted, his eyes moving from the door and the twins, to you. 

He cursed something under his breath. “I won’t be long. Beru will keep you safe, you might not see him, but he’s there.”

He kissed you quick, pulled away and brought you to him again, lingering his lips on yours for a kiss you wanted to last forever.

“Don’t move. Don’t leave the twins. Stay exactly where you are, okay?”

You nodded quickly. “I promise.”

Jinwoo took you into a desperate embrace and kissed you one last time. “I’m coming right back.”

“I know.”

He left into the hallways following Hae-in’s screams of agony, a heartbroken noise that caused your eyes to well up as you locked the hospital room door. It seemed like hours of you standing there until it all fell silent, though in reality, a few minutes passed.

I need something to take my mind off of this, anything. Jinwoo will sort this mess out.

It wasn’t that you were ignorant. You were exhausted and unable to process Hae-in’s predicament when your own children with so tiny and vulnerable, something you couldn’t bear to think about. 

Something to ease your mind before you could start pacing and listening out for any sound in the hall creeping near your door.

The twins names.

The bangle was Hero’s pride. Baby number one came first. You gave that one to him, slipping it into his incubator and around his tiny wrist.

“For Min-ho, our little hero to protect his sister…”

The other bangle was a good luck charm. Baby number two could lean on Min-ho and allow him to do the same with his sister. The bangle hung over her tiny little wrist as she slept.

“For Jun-hee, our little good luck charm to protect her brother…”

You wrote the corresponding names of your children on their incubator cards while acutely aware of the utter deafening silence out in the hall.

“Oh good, you’re okay.” 

You jumped, covering your mouth to quieten yourself. “H-How did you get in, Doctor?”

Beru should have stopped her.

“I have a master key. I came to see you were alright, Hunter Cha is having an episode and I wanted to check in with you and the babies because the sounds are quite unsettling.”

You stepped between her and the twins. “I’m fine, so you can leave now.”

She held up her hands defensively. “It’s alright, I just wanted to see if you needed anything.”

“We don't, so you can leave now.” You channelled Jinwoo’s energy to appear as threatening as possible. 

“I will- oh, you named them?” She smiled like Jinwoo’s mother would, slowly edging towards you to see the incubators behind you. “Can I see?”

“No. Later, when Jinwoo’s back.”

“It won’t take a minute-“

“I said no.” You growled at her like a rabid dog.

“Ugh.” She sighed, her whole demeanour shifting like lightening. “You two have really been pissing me off.”

You didn’t register at first, only that Min-ho and Jun-hee started crying. You looked at them for just a second, a cold tug you never saw coming.

A thin steel knife into your stomach.

“What? How did I get past that idiot bug Jinwoo has marching about the place?” She grinned something manic you couldn’t even comprehend. “You really think that the association would let a civilian care for S-Rank hunters? How do you think I’ve been getting past everyone? I’m just that hidden.” 

You screamed when she plunged the knife into your stomach again, her nails digging at your shoulder. Struggling against her fist was a fight you didn’t have, but you kept going because you had to.

“W-why-“

“I’m taking your babies. I already have a seller lined up in Japan. Then my debt is cleared. But it’s riskier now that the idiot has regained his memories. There’s no way I could kill him to make sure he won’t come after me, but if I distract him long enough, that’s a different story. And Jinwoo Sung is worth too much to Korea to get rid of anyway. You on the other hand are expendable-“

“Stay away from my babies!” You rammed her, managing to get her on the back burner with the sudden energy you had while pushing yourself further onto the knife. Though you were just too weak to begin with.

The doctor spun you around and shoved the knife back into your stomach, your legs gave out, hitting the floor like a brick wall of pain and blood in the corner of the room.

“You made some beautiful kids, I’ll give you that. Strong too-even louder than I care for. Yet they are worth so much more than you realise.”

“T-the Chairman.” You began choking on your own blood, holding your stomach like it could do something, watching nothing but your children in the incubators. They were more like prisons which you couldn't reach. “My babies…” 

“Chairman Go knows nothing, he’s a desperate old fool who just wanted the association as his family. Like he would actually go through with taking these kids, let alone selling them. Don't be so naive.”

The doctor looked down at you like you were nothing through your blurry eyed lasting vision before death came. Leaving your babies all alone without you. Without their mother. You hadn’t even held them yet.

My babies… 

“The only cover up the Chairman was part of was ensuring Mr Sung’s involvement in the incident was removed from the press.” She grimaced like you were nothing better than dirt on her shoe. “He knew during the investigation that Jinwoo was a murderer and he never said anything because of the babies you both made. Consider yourself lucky you spent as much time with him as you did.”

What? What does that… I don’t know-

“You could have gone on to make so many more great ones too, but try getting him to agree to anything he doesn’t want to. Giving up your babies just to make new ones, yeah right.” 

When things started doing dark and creeping up in the corner of your eyes, she knelt down to patronise you. “Don’t worry about the kids, they’ll live a good life in Japan doing who-knows-what, but that’s not my problem. After they leave my care, all I want is the money.”

You managed to stay awake long enough to her wheel your crying babies away and flip you her sweet smile as you sat there, bleeding out with no reason than to die.

In a split second, the vile doctor made you less than nothing.

Your babies were missing.

Part 29 <- Part 30 -> Part 31

Okay, let me tell you something, let me tell you something before you the pitchforks are sharpened and the horses ride at dawn!! It's part of the plot, this had to happen. 🫣🫣 Trust the process! I'm sorry! 🤗🥰

TAG LIST RE-OPEN (The tag list is back up and open for a little while, if you'd like to be tagged, please let me know! 🤗)

Thank you for reading and all of the support on this fic! ❤️ Likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated and I appreciate you all! See you next time 🤗

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DISCLAIMER - Crossposted from my AO3 - I do not own any of the characters or anything from the anime or manhwa. This is a work of fan fiction and is absolutely not representative of the views or intentions of the original creator(s).

Also please don’t post any of my work, thank you!

[sparrows4bats]

Nest AU

Damian Wayne somehow keeps finding babies and keeping them, like his father before him. It's mostly Talias fault.

The first of Damians' babies arrives one night as he is getting off of a shift at the hospital.

He opens his door, thinking it's the pizza he ordered only to find a sleeping baby in a basket on the doorstep.

In shock and exhausted, Damian brings the newborn inside. The tiny baby wakes up when Damian lifts them from their basket to check for any injuries or obvious health issues.

Damian prepares for them to cry, but the baby just stares up at him, smiling a toothless grin, and Damian can't help smiling back.

"Hello there, I don't suppose you know why you're here, do you?"

The baby gurgles and Damian nods seriously in response.

"I understand. You were asleep, but thank you for your insight."

Once Damian ensures the baby has no outward signs of abuse or neglect, Damian tries to settle them down in the basket again, only for the baby to cry every time Damian tries to let them go.

Damian gives up and carries the baby around his apartment, humming a tune he remembers his mother singing to him when he was a child.

He manages to free one of his hands and look at the basket properly. Under the blankets tucked in a waterproof pocket, Damian finds a letter with his name on it and a birth certificate with him named as the father and the mothers name redacted.

Except there is no possible way he is the biological father. He has not slept with anyone in years because between med school, internships, and part-time vigilantism, he really has not had the time or desire to. And the baby doesn't look like him, even a few days old she, the baby is a she named Amira Wayne apparently, has wide brown eyes and black curls her skin a shade or two darker than his own.

Damian opens the letter with a bit of difficulty.

There are two notes inside, one from Amiras birth mother and one from Talia Al Ghul.

Amiras mother was a League Assassin who felt pregnant and didn't want to have their child raised in its rank but did not wish to leave, so she went to Talia with her problem.

Damians' mother had offered her protection and a solution. Talia had started to mend her relationship with her son and decided that he would make an excellent father and a safe person who was able to protect the baby from any and all threats.

So Amira was given his name and left in Gotham for her new father to find.

Damian sighs at the explanation even if a part of him settles at being seen as safe, especially for someone as vulnerable as a newborn.

Talia writes about how proud of him she is, how he grew up to be better that Talia ever dared hope and that she hopes that he will give Amira the life and childhood neither of them got to experience. That she expect to meet her granddaughter again soon.

Amiras mother only asks him to love her daughter and how she knows of him through his reputation as a hero and a warrior. She ends her letter by saying she hopes Amira brings him joy.

Damian reads them both three times and looks at Amira again. The little girl is now cuddled into his chest, and Damian, who has never considered having children before now, feels himself melt.

"I guess you are staying with me then."

Amira yawns at him and drifts off to sleep, like that's answer enough.

The doorbell rings again with Damians pizza.

It's only after Damian goes to feed himself that he realises tha yes, he is a father now, his heart had set on it in an instant and he has nothing for his new baby to eat. Or diapers. Or a crib.

He can't even leave to go get stuff because he doesn't own a carrier or a carseat yet. Damian begins to panic because Amira needs so much, and he has only just started his residentancy. He wants this baby, but it all feels so impossible all of a sudden. That's doesn't mean he regrets his hasty decision just he really didn't have a game plan, and his mother hadn't provided one when she gave him a baby.

Damian looks at his sleeping daughter and begins to hyperventilate.

Then his window bursts open to reveal Jonathan Kent.

"Damian! Are you okay? Your heartbeat -... Is that a baby?"

Damian looks at his childhood best friend and sighs in relief.

"Jon! Thank God! I need you to buy me diapers, wipes, formula and baby clothes. Now!"

"Wait, but where did you get a baby? Is she yours?"

"She just got dropped off from the League, I'm on her birth cert. No, I'm not her biological parent, but goddammit, she's mine already. Now, can you please go get the stuff!"

Jon has more questions, but Damian is scribbling him a list of stuff to buy and shoving his credit card at him before the Super can ask any.

It's midnight in Gotham, so Jon flees to the opposite coast to find an open baby store. Luckily, a very nice lady explains baby sizes to him and recommends products when Jon gets overwhelmed by the sheer number of options. He never knew babies needed so much stuff, though he does get a cute Superman themed onesie he spots before leaving.

Damian is going to hate it so much.

He flies back to Gotham to find Damian singing to the now crying baby.

The sight stops him dead. The domesticity of it all does something to Jon. Damian, who when he met him, was so hurt and angry and turned out to be so caring, so loving.

His best friend sees him floating there and grabs the bags from his arms, grabbing supplies while he balances the baby.

Damian, thanks every lucky star that he knows basic baby care, like how to make formula correctly from his time as Lizzies Babysitter, though Lizzie was never this young.

Jon is ordered to build the crib while Damian feeds his daughter.

Amira goes right back to sleep once she's fed and changed, and the boys have a moment to breathe.

Damian finally eats his pizza while Jon quizzes him. The super looks kind of shocked that his mother just gave him a baby but less shocked that Damian intends to keep her.

Jon offers to stay the night after he sees how exhausted the young doctor is. His superhearing means that he will wake up with the baby because they both forgot to get a baby monitor.

Damian makes him learn how to make a bottle and change a diaper before he finally falls asleep. Jon would be more insulted if he didn't know that is just how the former Robin worries.

Jon is left watching his Robin sleep with his arm outstretched towards the crib. He takes plenty of photos to show everyone later.

Jon doesn't know how Damian is going to explain this to his family. Not that Batman has much room to judge.

Amira starts crying two hours later, and Damian wakes up to get her only for Jon to kiss his forehead while tucking him back in and whispering that he's got it.

Jon holds Amira in his hands and is terrified of how tiny she is, but the little girl just grabs his finger, and Jon falls a little in love.

Damian wakes up the next time she cries, and they both end up staring at her like weirdos when she falls back asleep after another bottle.

Come morning, both Supersons are tired but content. The domesticity of Damian making them breakfast as they talk and cuddle Amira makes Jon ache.

Because if he's honest with himself, he's been in love with Damian for years. He had never done anything with those feelings before now because he was terrified he would lose Damian. They grew apart years ago, and Jon feels like he has been just about hanging on to his friendship with Damian over the past couple of months between hospital shifts and Jon own heroing.

Damian seemed like he had everything together and had no place in his life for Jon to fit into anymore.

Last night was the first time Jon had felt truly needed in months.

And while he never saw himself with a family, especially after Ultraman, standing here with Damian makes him yearn for it.

Damian calls into work and messages his family about his little suprise. It takes thirty minutes for the bats to invade.

There are questions, accusations, and demands to hold Amira. Bruce is especially insistent that he meets his granddaughter.

Dick arrives last after racing from Bludhaven and steals the baby from the Batman, Damian laughs when she spits up on him. The others call it Karma, even Bruce.

Damian takes his daughter back and goes to change her, conveniently leaving Jon to the wolves.

"Why are you here?" Jason begins.

"Damian needed help, so I came to help."

"He called you? Before us?" Dick asks, hurt.

"No, I heard him panicking." Jon defends before he has to deal with a pouting Nightwing.

"So you just listen to him? Always?" Tim asks, and Jon really doesn't like the way he is looking at him.

Bruce crosses his arms, "Does Damian know?"

Jon swallows. "Yes, I've had his heartbeat memorised for years."

The room somehow gets even more awkward, that is until Damian bring Amira back.

"Jon! Why are the only onesies you bought Superman themed?!"

The bats are all horrified, but Jon thinks Amira looks adorable!

The next few hours are spent getting to know their newest addition, while Bruce tries to convince Damian to move back home only to get firmly rebuffed.

The bats leave after Amira is asleep and Damian falls asleep beside her again.

Jon was going to leave too but couldn't bring himself to do it. He sends photos of Amira in her superthemed colours to his parents instead.

Jon is still there in the morning when crates of gifts and baby supplies arrive from very overexcited aunts and uncles.

Jon is there the next night, too.

Damian forces him to sleep in bed with him after he complains about how short the couch is, and Jon just doesn't really leave after that.

He does a few rescues and shifts at the Watchtower, but he goes home to Damian and Amira afterwards. They don't talk about it, but Jons clothes migrate to the closet, and his toothbrush lives on the sink.

Damian goes back to work after three weeks and Jon stays with Amira most days, he even brings here to Kent Farm when both he and Damian could use a break.

On those days, Jon takes Damian out for dinner or patrol so he can let off steam.

They find a rhythm, and it's everything Jon never knew he wanted, and he finds himself on edge waiting for when it'll eventually end.

Then Amira gets a fever one night. Damian gets worried, and Jon rushs them all to the ER. The nurse asks what their relationship to Amira is, and Jon can't answer because he doesn't know where he fits in this little family he and Damian have created.

"He's her other father. We are working on getting the paperwork through at the moment." Damian says without hesitation, and Jon feels himself settle at words.

Until he starts spiralling because holy shit he's a Dad! He has a kid with Damian!

Amira turns out fine with some meds, and they do get Jons name added as Amiras parent with Oracles help when they bring her back home.

His parents are overjoyed but not surprised by the announcement of being grandparents.

All in all, Jon has never felt happier and more settled, and then, as always, things get a bit more complicated.

Damian gets a call from Talia on a random Tuesday. She doesn't give many details but does say a contact needs an immediate evac and texts him coordinates.

Jon flies them both over after dropping off the baby with Bruce. What they find is a Lazarus Demon worshipping cult that's about to sacrifice a baby.

Naturally, the Supersons put the cultists down and rescue the infant. Only to find out that Talia apparently is giving them yet another child and saving them from a bad situation.

Their second daughter comes home mere months after their first.

Idalia Wayne Kent has blue eyes and wispy red hair on her head and giggles up at her father's.

Juggling two babies is harder than one, but Damian and Jon manage with the help of their family.

Even though Damian regularly has to steal his kids back from an over enthusiastic Bruce.

Their third baby Talia delivers to Damian in person.

"He was going to be raised as an assassin, like you were, and couldn't let that happen again."

Jon takes the bundle carefully while Damian has a moment with his mother. He sighs as he realises they have three kids now.

They name him Richard, and Dick cries when they tell him.

Damian and Jon get a bigger house with farmland around it for their growing family and Damians many pets. Though, they still end up sharing a bed because it makes it easier.

Jon becomes a stay at home dad with Damian taking over whenever Jon goes on a mission.

Though Jon does keep worrying about how fragile his kids are. Damian has to talk him down from wrapping, then in kryptonitian bubble wrap after every scraped knee.

The only issue in their blissful domestic life is that despite living together, co parenting, and cuddling every night, Damian and Jon are still not together romantically, and it's driving everyone around them crazy.

Clark starts dropping hints, Lois plans an intervention, and the Bats place bets. Bruce is still trying to convince Damian to move home so he can see his grand babies more often. He doesn't even mind if Jon comes with them at this point.

Dick finally has enough of the unresolved tension when he finds Jon staring at his brother for the eighth time.

So he does the most logical thing possible and kidnaps his neices and nephew for a weekend and locks the two pining idiots in a containment cell together at the Watchtower.

Both men are extremely angry at him when he releases them, but they look more well rested than they have in weeks.

Damian also has visible bruises on his neck while Jon looks unbearably happy, so at least his plan worked.

Jon and Damian get married after they find their fourth baby.

[ganondoodle]

as funny as this scene is ... toby and the team are very good at combining humor and serious things (or rather, the humor works so well bc it has a solid base? idk words) the longer i think about it the 'worse' it gets

even with them trash talking each other constantly its so obvious that they still care (they share so many phrases and themes you cant even tell who got what from whom.. though i suppose its more likely spamton got them from Tenna .... but also he would have had to be there for quite a while to have so many similarities) even if its complicated- and like, spamton kind of sounds so genuinely happy here?? and the fact he (if you have the dealmaker) comes out of your inventory on his own here when Tenna talks to himself about being at his lowest and wishing him back (more or less) is kinda heartbreaking to me????? for all i know (cut me some slack its been a long time) we dont know why spamton never came back or left in the first place (and there is the thought of ... would he have even been able to come back given that they are all tied to physical objects and to get Tenna to safety later -if you dont let him die- susie literally has to carry him away) and even if its some sense of resentment or pride or shame or something that made him stay away/avoid him, NOW that you got him here and he hears and sees this he actually makes a move????????

for all that spamton is weird and kinda fucked up for unkown(?) reasons, treated badly (even if for good reason(??) i dont remember everything of the first chapters) and everything im just so?? he could have just stayed in your inventory like hes done before but he doesnt

but you also cant really blame Tenna for reacting the way he does here (and yes i do think he knew it was spamton and the overblown reaction was mostly trying to think of soemthing to do bc HOW would you handle this?? and also i do think he could be petty about it but also maybe overreacting ... i know how it feels to overreact in weird ways ahaha- just .. i get it but, dude, why q-q)- you were hiding and he was talking to himself and then spamton just freakinge appears in front of him like that (when Tennas desperate attempt to avoid being thrown away fails, no matter how far he went, when everything is falling apart, when its kinda .. too late) after who knows how long of silence, knowing literally nothing about where he went or why (yet he still kept the pipis.......)---

and then how spamton says hes never gonna do that again, while understandably so and very funny in the moment, im just so .... the one time he actually does seem to try to reconnect (?) with someone he seems to have actually genuinely cared about he gets rejected like that (for also understandable reasons aaaaah) and swears to never try that again ......................................................

blaming each other for their downfall but still caring and then fumbling the one chance they get to meet again im so .............................................. fine about it.

(and not to derail but why .... why is it so easy to let Tenna disappear or die ..............?? even if you do all the nice things if you dont go to the hub after church (if thats possible, i dont ...actually know), or dont give him to mettaton, toriel throws him out and once it rains and hes outside its like the last chance to get him to safety (and most people would probably avoid going there before the church bc you are told to go home when its raining and most would then check everything else first and end up in the church at night.. skipping out on finding him outside in the rain and after that he is just gone??? (i think?)- ALSO if you dont recruit enough/are nice enough Susie says she still went back and searched for him in the dark world (i love her so much) but couldnt find him and the other NPCs refused to help out.................. the boarded up tv room in the hub??? arhj my heart man q-q .......... and when you actually break him the broken TV just stays in the room????????? at least spamton can just chill in your inventory nfjksbfshfkjnfksl)

((also also ...i found it weird you dont get to see susie help him in the dark world or the sealing of the fountain there, i know its at the end of the chapter and sth happens with Kris and the shelter but ... i think thats the only time we havent seen the actual sealing?? and then she tells you what happened if you interact with the TV instead ... i do love the highly missable dialog of her telling you she found and patched Tenna up with the help of the other NPCs if you got them all recruited though.... qwq))

(sorry these thoughts have been spiraling around sicne i woke up today and i literally could not concentrate on work at all bc i kept ... thinking about it .... either way these all all just current incoherent thoughts im throwing around........ i hope we get to see Tenna again later on, though i kind of doubt that)

[revelboo]

Mayhaps another tfp Bee Drabble? I love to ache from the miscommunication troupe, especially cuz poor baby can’t even talk properly

Sure!

Lonely

TFP Bumblebee x Reader

• Heart thumping as the gate activates, your breath catches. Because you hate this part. Hate waiting to see if they’re hurt and how badly, chest aching as Bee helps Arcee limp inside and Ratchet reaches to guide her into Medbay and the yellow bot’s head lifts. Optics finding you on the catwalk overlooking the gate, looking for you every time he returns like he’s worried you won’t be there.

• Door wings relaxing as soon as he finds you, his own hand lifts to mimic you when you acknowledge him. And you smile and it’s like standing outside in the sun, it’s warm and welcoming to make his spark ache. Servos itching to brush your hair away from your face, to listen to your soft voice. Imagines being able to answer you, the two of you whispering and talking about everything and nothing at all. Hungry to be seen. Understood. Frustration making him want to bang his head on something.

• Toeing off your sneakers while you’ve got the human space to yourself with the kids in school and the other humans elsewhere in the base, you want to go check on Bee, but he always gets fidgety, wings flicking and unable to meet your eyes when you talk to him, making you think that you make him nervous. Pulling out your phone and finding a book, your head lifts at the sound of heavy peds noisy on the metal stairs. It’s not unusual for some of the bots to mass shift to hang out with their humans, but when Bee’s head comes into view, you try to remember if you’ve ever seen him do it.

• Door wings tucking down against his back as you smile at him, part of him wants to just turn and head back down. Hide. Because you’re just waiting, expression expectant. Like you’re happy to see him and he slowly makes himself walk closer. And sits beside you, the couch creaking dangerously under his weight as he rests his hands on his knees. “Hi,” you whisper.

• Watching him fidget awkwardly, optics cutting to look at you then away, you smile. “Everything okay?” You try and his door wings are pinned back as he drums his servos on his knees. And the legs on the couch give out as you both freeze when it crashes against the catwalk. Optics wide, he stares at you and you crack up laughing at the shock on his face, leaning your head against him. “Think Fowler will spring for a new couch?”

[hollaforlyla]

hey so how do you think Dazai, Chuuya and Atsushi would deal with a s/o who isn’t a light weight, so they never get to see their s/o drunk and s/o always handles drunk them well and puts them to bed and stuff. S/o is normally chill and sassy. Mature and silly love sent their boyfriends way usually. So what they do when they finally meet drunk s/o who won’t remember anything next day. And drunk s/o is giggly, brags to other people about their boyfriend in a very sweet way, lovey dovey without shame, is in awe at basic things for existing like apples, very excited easily, when the boys attempt to put s/o to bed, about to leave the bedroom, they cling to their boyfriend and are like “No! Don’t leave me! 🥺”. If they stay, s/o grins and smooches them?

bsd men w/ a giggly and forgetful s/o after drinking

dazai , chuuya , and atsushi

warnings/before you read: drinking, lowercase writing, gn!reader, not proof-read, and crappy writing cuz it's been far too long 💀

dazai

dazai is normally the one to be doing all the drunk flirty, dramatic decelerations, and causing chaos.

you've been the one who would have to deal with it all. you've been calm in his storm─ taking him to bed, putting water on the nightstand, and keeping him entertained.

so when you're the one who's gotten drunk before him? he's shocked and delighted.

he watched you with almost an amused, but tender smile as you hold a granny smith like it's the eighth wonder of the world.

"did you know apples*hic*are like... edible art?"

"hmm. and here i thought i was your masterpiece."

when you started bragging to random people at a bar like, "that's my boyfriend! isn't he the prettiest man ever?*hic* smart too! hehe~" he's hiding his face with his drink on his lips, looking away for as long as he could as you keep bragging.

takes you home, if you're able by yourself he'll let you change before helping you to bed─ but if he needs to he'll change you himself.

you latch onto him like koala, you don't want him to leave. "nooo~ don't goo!"

your pouting, his arm pushed to your cheek as you look up to him from the bedsheets.

he laughs softly, strokes your hair and you immediately pull him on top of you, giving him a smooch─ sloppy, happy and lovely.

chuuya

when the mafia thinks of you, what immediately comes to mind is being chuuya's cool, sassily grounded partner.

teasing him just the right amount, taking him down when he gets fiery─ can thank dazai for that one─ and keeping him hydrated when he's tipsy

he trusts you in any situation. so when you are the one giggly and wobbling?

his brain blue screens.

"BABE! LOOK...a chaaaair~ it's made from WOOD!! from a TREE!!"

"...sweetheart, how much did you have to drink tonight?"

you start bragging about him to a bartender after serving you your drinks; "ooh, he's so hot, gentlemanly, and has such a sexy hat~" you giggled, "he does*hic* the move where he tilts it like an anime character~"

he hides his blushed face with his hat, your killing him over here. ears bright red.

time to head home rolls around and he's carry you. even if you asked or not, he can see how wobbly you were and he was not about to risk it for any biscuit.

he would guide you to the bedroom, have you change into more comfy clothes(PJS), and gently lay you down on the mattress.

you grabbed him by his wrist however before he could pull away from you. "chuu~ sleep with mee~ please!"

he grumbles under his breath, "you're lucky i love you." he grinned, despite his grumble, he got into bed with you.

you kiss his cheek over and over, leaving sloppy and wet kisses along his cheek to his nose, chin and eventually lips.

he loves you so much, he's so soft with you.

next morning? oh he's a smug bastard.

"apparently im a "sexy piece of cake" huh?"

atsushi

he feels so lucky to have you. how are you two even dating? he is such a sucker for you, he lives you!

cool-headed, quick thinker, and a bit of a flirt in a classy way.

so when he comes back seeing you absolutely smash and cooing at lightbulbs?

panick.

"awwh~ what's the point of the bulb if it doesn't light uppp!!!"

"honey, you-you─ that's not how it- DONT TOUCH THE GLASS, Y/N!!"

you cling into him for the night, touching his face, tugging his ears, hopping his nose and dragging your finger against this cheeks and jaw, babbling about how pretty and handsome he is.

you turn to a stranger sitting near the two of you, "doesn't my boyfriend have pretty eyes~ he's so sexy when angry, his eyes turn all dael and broody, hehe~"

he blushed. pulling you back and apologized to the people you've randomly started talking too.

sending you to bed is another blushy mess for atsushi, you grab his arm and refuse to let him go. you run your finger up and down his bicep as you look up at him with a pout and pleading eyes.

"don't goo~ stay with me, your so warm~"

he stays. no question, no remark. he's SAT. you cuddle up to him like he's your personal teddy bear and give him small pecks on his collarbone, smooching his cheek here and then, until you eventually fell asleep on his chest.

the next morning comes around and you wake up where you were lash night, in the arms of your beloved.

he smiles down at you, "so uh...you really like my eyes, hm?"