#least they'll have something to cry on their way home about

[billysgirllol]

“yes, exactly what i was coming to say.” she sighed heavily in relief, he was finally getting it. “yes i do— but that’s why i said one day at a time.” quietly speaking in return. moving her feet up, she rests her heels on the bed and curls into him. his scent, warmth and his familiar safety and love she’s always found in him for as long as they’ve been babies holding onto each other. she went months and months without him, crying over him... feeling him and being held only in her dreams. while being stuck in billy taupe’s presence, it was depressing and horrible… she figured this would never be an experience she’d feel again. doe eyes looking off to the side in embarrassment, until billy succeeds in getting her to look at him. eyes threaten to water at the words i won’t hurt you… just because it unraveled how much it really was still bothering her. being harmed by someone's hand... it wasn't like she'd forgotten the times step dad's hand, the preacher's hand, had been any kinder smacking her limbs when she was little. she just kept those things hidden from billy and her mama all these years until that big explosion recently that aided in causing it alas between her mother and him. "the first who won't." saying more to herself than him, never had hands felt more trusting.

"yeah, he wasn't too thrilled about the window on his truck. so he's been actin' like i'm gonna pay to fix it and clearly...i'm not fixin' shit. then when he gets back on his drunk at nights, here he goes usin' his friends phones to give the ole 'i'm sorry, i'm sorry, i won't do it again' messages. but i'm done with that... he'll never change and even if hypothetically he did... i don't care. i want nothin' to do with a man who hits a woman." that's one thing she won't forgive or take back. "i will, i'll do that. thanks for always lookin' out for me." if not for billy taupe, ironically, they wouldn't even be talking right now probably. so in a way, she does believe it all happens for a reason.

"course i liked it before... i mean, i'll accept you however you wanna look. but i admittedly do have an attachment to your curls. it's just how i always have remembered you, since you were little. you didn't know it, but little me would stand up lookin' at the back of your head while you were doing something like ordering ice cream for us. whenever i knew you were distracted. and be admirin' those cute curls." lucy gray admits, one of many secrets she's kept inside her mind before she laughs. laughing continuing as he makes her shy all the way up, causing an authentic blush to grace her olive features with her powder blush as she gets kissed on her jaw. refraining from freezing up and stammering. "oh, these are just my curls i left out because i didn't like the entirely slicked back look." good, now she has a reason to do something with her hands, twirling the right sided tendril hanging against her cheek with her finger. "and? she can't say anything because she lights up her own stress smokes ALL the time. plus, i won't tell her, come on billy...."

turning her head to look for his backpack, thinking she'll just steal it herself. "i always like the chocolate chip waffle, that's what i want tonight. and... that's not fair you get to smoke and i don't." even if she's smiling on the inside at him being just like the old billy. "noo, don't do that." she's gently grabbing his hand with his spit covered thumb in the fashion of a mom, moving it away from him cleaning off the makeup on her jaw. but the movement alone causes his thumb to swipe away the spot of foundation even if she doesn't notice, hopping up from his lap and grabbing his backpack. looking into it for those cigarettes as she briefly bends to snatch it up. taking a few steps back in case he tries stealing it from her. "it's really not as big deal as it seems." smoking weed. "come on, no snacks necessary. won't it be fun bein' smoke buddies? with the cigarettes, i mean. let's be rambunctious and rebellious and stuff. walmart's got beer and wine, too. not like mountain moonshine but it'll do." being chipper and hyper as she's acting now is a lot better than shedding another tear. "party at our mo-hizzle. yayyy!" she exclaims, hopping in place.

billy’s expression can only be compared to shifting glimpses of a kaleidoscope, constantly changing, displaying a plethora of different emotions in less than a minute. sadness becoming confusion, confusion morphing into disbelief, disbelief giving way to pure, unbridled shock. is it possible that he’s had it all wrong? that it’s not unrequited love he’s experiencing but mutual adoration? has he been blind this whole time? “what?” he mouths, his brain’s struggling to make sense of lucy gray’s confession but his heart faces no such dilemmas, beating like a hummingbird at the back of his throat. i love you, i love you, i love you, is all he wants to say but keeps catching himself just before the words can tip over his lips. it’s too soon, too complicated. tears stinging his nose, but he does his best to actually hear her out this time, no interruptions, no unwanted interpretations. once she’s done talking, he’s speechless, his chest twinging like his feelings are too big and heavy and his ribcage will have crack just accommodate them. “so you… you didn’t run away that night because you didn’t know how to tell me that you didn’t feel the same way? you just didn’t want to lose me as a friend and needed more time to think things through?” he recites her own words back to her, and although he’s still processing what she’s just told him, for once he doesn’t want to be anywhere but in this moment with her. “we can definitely take it slow and day by day, but…” he trails off as she climbs into his lap, his arms coiling instinctively around her slender waist, pulling her into him as close as humanly possible. the world around them melts away and for a moment he’s back home. she’s the only home that he’s ever had. their cheeks rubbing together, his fingers caressing her sides through the velvety fabric as the smell and warmth of her skin engulfs him whole. “do you really want to give it a try? ‘cause what if i don’t come home any time soon? what if i stay in new york? i just don’t want you to wake up one day and realize you’re unhappy,” he whispers in her ear, his hand refusing to let go of hers. 

billy’s extremely observant and doesn’t miss the way lucy gray flinches at the faintest touch, large palms framing her face in the most delicate way possible, holding her as though she was made of glass. “hey, look at me. it’s alright. i won’t hurt you,” comes a loving reassurance, the tip of his nose bumping against hers. ocean hues marveling at her visage. “and i won’t let anyone hurt you again.” he knows that she’s very much capable of protecting herself, but wants her to feel less alone. “sounds a bit obsessive to me. but maybe it’s finally registered that you’re not a toy for him to play with and break once he’s no longer interested. if he ever bothers you again, if you see him stalkin’, actin’ sketchy… you let me know, alright?” he’ll pay the scumbag a visit himself. “yeah, that’s what the beanie is for, though.” to keep him warm. he saves the story of how he shaved his head for some other time, not even realizing that her’s shorter, too. it’s pinned up so prettily, pulled into a bun, that he doesn’t suspect anything. “i’m not sure yet. did you like it better before?” he wonders out loud, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “speakin’ of hair, yours is even prettier, and the bangs… i really like the bangs. make you look even more adorable.” the only thing he doesn’t like is the fact that she’s covered up all her beauty marks. still, he presses his lips to the spot beneath the left corner of her lips where his favorite little mole should be. “yeah, no… your mama would strangle me with her own two hands if you were growin’ up and tryin’ new things with me. we can try somethin’ new at waffle house? somethin’ we never had before?” he suggests with a sweet smile, putting the pad of his thumb between his lips to get it wet before finding her chin again, shamelessly rubbing her makeup off that one beauty mark. he’s about to ask what possessed her to cover it up when the word joint reaches his ears and he freezes in place.

“a what? a joint? you smoke weed? who are you are what have you done to lucy gray?” he doesn’t even try to conceal the look of utter bewilderment that overtakes his features, his jaw dropping. he’s sure putting up with billy taupe requires a whole bunch of drugs, but it doesn’t sit right with him, makes him wonder whether she had been coerced into trying it. “your choice but my cigarettes, and i’m not… i can bring you a snack from the vending machine outside?”

[erwinsvow]

imagine if rafe and pogue reader’s relationship was just a bet between him and his kook friends, to see if he could ACTUALLY get her to fall in love with him, like to get her to be all over him and how long that would last, and the reader finds out omgggg. And they break up lol

you think the ending bits of the conversation between your boyfriend and his friends hurts more than everything you just overheard.

"you really think i'd settle for some fuckin' pogue pussy? nah man, top owes me fifty bucks now."

you hadn't heard the entire exchange, just from the part where you heard your name. stupidly, like a naive girl in love with the type of boy she'd only ever dreamt about, you tuned in, thinking rafe was telling his friends something you'd want to hear.

hiding—as embarassing as it is—behind the wall, holding back tears though they don't care enough to stay held back, they pour down your cheeks as the hits keep coming. the boys laugh, but the ringing in your ears had been so loud you hadn't heard the rest of the joke, didn't understand what was so funny.

the first thought in your mind is that you can't believe how stupid you were. the second is that pope and jj and john b had all been right, that it was too good to be true, that he was playing you somehow, that he was a liar and scumbag. you had ignored what your best friends had been telling you, trying so hard to believe that they were wrong, that they didn't know rafe, or at least your rafe, the one who was sweet and funny and never let you drive anywhere or pay for a thing, the one who paraded you around town like you were something who deserved to be showed off, the one who you took back to your tiny house and introduced to your hard-working parents.

you resist the urge to slide down the wall you're leaning against, though every muscle in your body wants to keel over and cry until you can't cry anymore.

you'd been embarassed enough—they didn't need to see you like this too. wiping away tears with the back of your hand, sniffling but trying to stay quiet, you wait for the boys to walk away so you could sneak out of here and pretend that you'd never even come—though you'd only come because rafe said he was having friends over and you'd baked them some snacks for their game, thought you were being a good girlfriend and doing the things a good girlfriend does.

footsteps and laughter echo in the other room—they're gone. the second it's silent, a sob wrangles itself out, eyes getting blurry again. you don't know how you're gonna bike home if you can't stop crying. your fingers fly across your screen, dialing jj's number. you'd been upset at the blond because he seemed to be the most against you and rafe dating, had the meanest things to say and was the first to insinuate there was something wrong if rafe wanted to date you.

you'd been so insulted, so hurt by his words that the two of you had gone from talking every single day to maybe once a week. you hope he doesn't hold it against you now, but a part of you knows jj never would—that's just the kind of guy he is. he answers by the second ring, and you try to stay quiet, just incase they hear you.

"j? can you come get me? i-um, i'm at tannyhill-" the last part is said with another sob, breaking into a fit of tears again. he says he's with pope and that he's coming, and you hate that they heard you cry, because knowing the two of them they'll go thirty over if they think you're upset. you wanna get out of here, but you don't want them to die.

heart thudding, eyes watery, limbs weak, you stay against that wall for a moment. before you can make your way to the door, rafe's figure steps in to where you are. he sees you before you see him—shoulders shaking, hands wiping away tears.

when you turn to look at him, it doesn't take more a second to know you heard something you shouldn't have.

"hey, listen to me-" he gets closer, and you flinch, backing away. you want to say something mean, something snarky, something that'll hurt him as much as he's hurt you. nothing comes out, and you stare back at him, and you hope he remembers how hard he's made you cry, because you've decided it then and there—you're never seeing rafe cameron ever again.

you dart past him to the door. he follows, reaching out to grab you, but you take off, running down his driveway and into the truck he recognizes as heyward's. you get in, in between pope and jj. the last thing he sees is you crying into maybank's chest while they drive you away, and the last thing he thinks is wondering what the hell he had just done.

[grimdarling69]

Can I ask for part 9 of deaged dan and ellie please?🥹

Tbh I've been rereading it a lot and I'm excited to read what the batfam and jl reactions while going to where Damian and Dick is. I knowww that it's going to be a crazy ride especially with youngblood(is it really Youngblood? Or not?)

A large toxic blob incased the window on the door. Swirling and jumping individual blob ghosts. They cooed excitedly and pushed against the locked door in vain.

"I'm coming! I'm coming!" He finally reached the door and opened it in a practiced manner of hiding behind and ducking. The swarm of blobs rushed past him into the den.

"Calm yourselves one at a time." Damian spoke to them as he walked hesitantly-not fearfully, Damian-back into the room. They swarmed around his head and chittered in a weirdly familiar language. He couldn't understand the language, but he recognized it? He was gaining ecto if he could recognize ghost dialect. He couldn't let Damian know he'd blame himself if he thought he put him in danger by letting him stay in the Realms. He couldn't leave him alone and was scared while he went through this. Damian needed him just as much as he needed him.

"You must have made a mistake. There's absolutely no way she would betray me. She's-this can't be happening." He muttered the last part and pushed through the blobs around him. He went to the table. Frostbite dropped files yesterday as something to do while the storm passes. He hadn't realized the weather would follow them to death. Apparently, in some 'biomes' in the Realms, it has weather but not the same it's all different. All at different times and patterns. The weather couldn't hurt ghosts, but it could hurt buildings and structures. Their cabin, luckily, was on the side of the island that the storm didn't reach, so they were told to stay put. He had gotten frostbite to give them paperwork so that he could convince Damian to do that instead of attempting to injure himself or the cores. It kind of worked he only had to chase him a few times.

"What's happening, Damian? What did they say?" He questioned, keeping in an eye in the weirdly calm swarm landing on the couch next to him. He captured his sons hands so he couldn't pull his hair out like he tended to do now. Damian face was covered in worry, fear, and maybe some regret.

"A group of heroes, including some of the founders of the Justice League and Constantine, are being transported by Pandora and Youngblood." He winced and glanced outside the window like he could see their ship.

"Bruce?" "And Todd, Drake, Brown, and Thomas."

"Shit. Well, we just have to explain to them what you told me, and they'll back off. Jason will be more than happy to knock Bruce into his senses if he doesn't. "

"I don't want them to know about this, about me-or them..."

"Damian, come on, they'd have had to at least know about the babies eventually. When you came home even-if you came to...live with me." Damian glanced around nervously, never meeting his eyes. Oh my god.

"But you never planned on returning, did you? You were going to let us think you committed suicide without any sign at all. Right? That was your plan to-to make us think we lost you!" He was yelling, and a distant voice told him he needed to calm down, but he really couldn't care less right now.

"I- didn't mean to make you think -" Damian was tearing up. He thinks absently that he's seen damian cry more these past few months than the past four years he's known him.

"I was going to follow you!" Damian seemed like he wanted to say something, but he needed to get his point across. He took a deep breath.

"When I got to the bridge, I was-in hysterics. I couldn't help but imagine you in the-the water. Hurt scared in pain, knocked around in the water-er. I thought you could have cracked your head open or just anything, and I had to-to save you! I just thought if i could follow you over that bridge...i could save you. " it was hard to see through the bluryness, but damian was the only thing he needed to see anyway.

"You would have been killed too..."

"I know."

"So why...?"

"Because you matter more to me than anything. You are my son, and you are Bruce's son, and you are Talias son."

"I-..."

"Let me finish. If Bruce didn't want you, you would have never been in the manor. It is impossible to make Bruce do something he truly doesn't want to do. You are a member of this crazy ass family because we want you. Bruce wants you. I want you. So don't push us away, please. "

"I just-i never doubted you!" It's always been bruce.

"Or any of the others, it's only Bruce, why?" He's afraid of his reaction most of all, like he knows something about him Dick doesn't.

"I told you about Jack Fenton, right? Well, before he sacrificed himself, he was cutting me open. As I screamed and cried and begged him to stop. That i was alive that I was his son didn't matter. What did matter was vlad. Jazz-you maybe called him begged him to save you. He told them-my mom all about ghosts about himself, and that stopped him. He said sorry to vlad instead of sorry to the son lying open and organs strewn across the room on the table. It was you who rushed forward and helped me. You who was always on my side so I can never doubt you but Bruce...I've had my share of father's and they haven't always been the best."

"He tries-"

"Sometimes trying isn't enough. But I trust you so...I'll give him a chance. I want to live with you but maybe we'll visit him."

"That's all I'm asking, baby bat." Maybe everything will be fine. Damian will see that Bruce isn't Jack, and everything will be fine. He goes to put his hand comfortingly on his shoulder but damian bypasses him and grabs him tight around the waist, burying his head into dicks clothes. Gripping him so tightly it hurts but he doesn't complain much too happy just hold his son. He grips him as tightly as he dares and rests his head on Damian.

"Richard."

"What, dami?" He turned his cheek from where he placed it on damians head so he could hear better.

"I think the babies are coming..." he pulls away suddenly to look at him, and sure enough, his stomach is glowing so bright his shirt is see-through. Damians face is pulled into an expression of wonder and fear. Shit shit shit. They'd thought we would have more time.

"I'll get frostbite. Just sit down." He helps him to the couch, and after making sure he knows to control his breathing, he runs out of the cabin to Frostbites. Luckily, he wasn't actually in human labor, but it was still extremely painful because of the fact that damian isn't a full ghost. Typically, it was more like a budding reproduction that plants do. A ghost and a ghostling go intangible and divide from each other. Frostbite believes damian will be strong enough for that to happen if they use ecto-dejecto+. Something he modified from the Fentons. He is extremely worried about this, as you could guess. He trusts Frostbite. He's like a large frosty and very intelligent retriever, but he's worried about the side effects of after rather than the immediate. They have no other idea it's this or nothing. Frostbite had said if the kids couldn't get out on their own, he would have to... cut them out. Ecto-dejecto+ it is!

"Frostbite! Frostbite!" He slammed into the large door and banged on it. It was probably unlocked like always, but this was faster. "Is it time?" He hears the resounding yell at foot from the door, and he flips backward so he doesn't get knocked out again.

"Yes! Obviously!" He turns back around and runs back to the cabin. He ignores frostbites yelling about getting his tools.

By the time he gets back, damian isn't on the couch anymore.

"Damian! Damian, where are you?" He's searching wildly around the room throwing things around. It had only taken him 6 minutes to get here and back. Please don't him have...have...

"In here!" Damian! From his old bedroom? Frostbite and him had been working in changing it into a temporary nursery just in case. Had Damian already...?

"Damian..?" He pushed open the door slowly.

"Shh, look!" Damian was smiling freely for the first time in a while. Completely free of the pain from just a few minutes ago. He was holding a baby, and another rested in a blue banket on the bed pushed against the wall, eyes darting around. Damian held another in a pink blanket in his arms, standing in the center. The baby's face was red, and tears steamed down its cheeks, but it wasn't actively crying.

"She just stopped crying. Here Ellie meet your..." he trailed off handing the baby over to him waiting for him to decide what he wanted to be called. They hadn't talked about it...

He couldn't help but tear up seeing the little baby. It didn't look like a newborn but maybe a month or 2 old. Still very young but bypassing the actual infant stage.

"Aren't they beautiful...What do you want to be called?" Damian picked up Dante and rocked him around the baby stared into space. The baby smiled so definitely more than a month. From the books he read it took about 6 or so weeks to smile actually smile instead of just gas.

"I don't know. Didn't think that far ahead." He took the corner of the blanket and gently wiped away the drying tears on her face.

"Im here! Great one! Princess!" Frostbite took forever seriously. And he was ignoring the title everyone insisted on using for him. They had offered to change it to Prince, but then it just felt too real? When he's called princess, it's funnier, less real, and like a joke, not like he's a literal prince of the literal fabric of the universe.

He pushed open the door and signaled to Frostbite standing in the broken doorway with his finger on his lips a classic be quiet sign he's sure ghosts would understand.

"Oh, well, I suppose we were worrying for nothing." Frostbite said once he finally got over the surprise. He was leaning over his shoulder or entire body technically from how large he was to peer at the baby girl. It was quite comical when he reached out a finger seemingly mesmerized at Ellies tiny little hand barely wrapped around half the finger when she grabbed it.

"Oh, I just love younglings. It has been centuries since I've seen such young neverborns. Though I believe it is just their human half influencing their age." The giant yeti seemed perfectly content to be trapped by the small hand.

"Do you think they'll ever gain their memories back?" Damian was sitting in the hand-carved rocking chair with ice and star designs all over it. He still held Dante in his arms. The baby simply watched its surroundings.

"I don't believe so but their cores personality should be similar and they might have a sense of deja vu sometimes but the amount of damage to their cores...I don't believe they will ever fully gain anything back." The yeti provided his much needed wisdom. "This is a new opportunity for them and you would be wise not to waste it, great one."

"I know, I won't its just i will miss them." Damian stared into his sons eyes not looking up at them.

"I know it is of no reconciliation, but...I will as well." Frostbite gently unraveled his claw from the baby and gathered his supplies. Leaving behind the ecto-dejecos without a word.

"You never answered me earlier about what you want to be called..." Damian said absent mindly in tone but completely focused on him.

"I did not realize it was such a big deal to you." Dick did. If he took up the uncle mantle, it would solidify the fact they were only brothers, but if he took up the grandfather title, Bruce and Alfred would be left out. He knew what he wanted, but bruce...its not he thinks Bruce will be furious or something at him it's more the quiet disappointment or regret he's worried about. Bruce was easy to anger but hard to disappoint, and every time he saw that look on his face...Bruce could also be a very jealous man.

"I thought about it what they'll call you guys. Alfred will be pops or grandpa. Bruce can have gramps. And you...can be papa..?" He can recognize the hopeful phrasing in his voice.

"I..thought Papa was for dads..." it's not a question really more like a dazed statement, but damian treats it like it is anyway.

"Not in the Midwest where I first came from. I used to call my grandparents, gama and Papa, when I was younger in that life. Before they died, we would drive for hours every holiday or on long weekends to see them." It was weird to hear him reminiscence about another life. Ellie gurgled, and he glanced down at the wiggly baby. Her fingers were in her mouths, and her eyes were locked with him. For the first time, he feels himself really look at her like a haze was lifted from his eyes. She had a tuft of dark brown hair almost black, her eyes were a startling unrecognizable hazel, her skin was slightly tan but barely like it was only just beginning to change. She had curious eyes and wild extremities like she wanted to get up and touch everything. She had a tiny brown mole beside her nose on her cheek-right in a crevice-a little above her mouth.

"It must have been nice."

"Yeah, it was." It wasn't an awkward silence but a quiet one just holding the babies he glanced over at Damian and saw Dante was asleep. Ellie was just about to fall asleep. Sh kept closing and opening her eyes at weird times.

He locked eyes with Damian and motioned toward the cribs. They were pushed against the wall between a dresser it was obvious the room wasn't even half finished.

The large bed shoved out the way, the pushed out of the way rocking chair and cribs the only sign of a nursery. The various other pieces of furniture were mismatched and aged.

He rocked Ellie, hoping to get her tired enough. He spied Damian, setting Dante down slowly in his crib. He made his way over to the cribs as well, just as Damian was reswaddling Dante. If his age assessment was correct, they'd stop that soon, but for now. Dante stayed fast asleep. He set Ellie down and attempted to fix her swaddling. He hoped he wouldn't fully wake her by messing with it. Luckily, she seemed to get the memo and fell asleep quickly. They turned back toward eachother he let out a relieved sigh and watched as Damian said goodnight to the babies and left the room looking back every step. He took one final glance at them and closed the door softly.

"What are we going to use for a baby moniter? Could Tucker have something we could use?" How would they even connect it? Tucker had said they had once tried internet in the realms but it would just explode randomly.

"No need. We're bonded, I feel their emotions." Ghost bonds at it again.

"Really? What are they feeling?" He needed to know if they liked him of course.

Damian hummed and answered thoughtfully " Loved, happy, content."

"Good."

"There is a...meeting soon between the leaders. It's an annual diplomatic meeting to discuss mostly trade and news. Tucker will be announcing the children as heirs to the Realms and..." Damian trailed off but it was obvious what he was going to say. Me.

"I thought you would be discussing the future when your older...?"

"We will discuss if i succeed him as he succeeded me once before. Tucker has done great work as king, and he enjoys it more than I do. The ancients will disagree they didn't like the fact I named him and sam as my heirs in the first place. The way to calm them is to act like I will succeed until we find a better plan."

"Right. Sam... Do you think she is also back in our world? Tucker became a ghost, but he told me that both you and Sam disappeared around the same time. What if she was reincarnated as well?" Damian listened intently but didn't speak just thinking. Damian didn't seem to have thought about it before and was now trying to think of he knew her.

"I already thought of that, and I already found her-him him, actually." Tucker walked through the door unburdened by it. He was dressed casually with a faded yellow sweater and a patched beanie on his head. You would never expect him to be a king. He still looked like young, not high school, but college for sure.

"Him? Who? Did you contact them?" Dick scoured his brain trying to think of anyone matching Sams personality.

"You already know him actually. He's on his way now." Tucker continued motioning toward the nursery door.

"Be quiet. They're sleeping, but how did you contact them?" Damian whispered loudly. Tucker peeked into the bedroom.

"So cute! I might just start up my babysitting gig up again. You're first on the list, of course, best friend privileges!" Tucker gleefully spoke, voice lower but excited.

"Absolutely not! Do you remember what happened at your last babysitting gig?" Damian pulled the door shut softly in a joking but final manor. Tucker scoffed and indignantly argued, "That wasn't even my fault! It was my mom's! She's the one who baked them!"

"Your mom baked babies...?" They both turned and looked at him confused before breaking out into hysteric laughter. A laughter so contagious he could barely stand up right.

"She didn't actually bake any kids, right?" He finally asked once he caught his breath, sparking another violent outburst of laughter.

----------

BOOM

"YES! DO IT AGAIN! DO IT AGAIN!" Green Lantern yelled out at Captain Yungblood, who stood at a cannon throwing cannonballs at floating puple rocks. When it hit them, fireworks sparked and went everywhere in a mixture of purple, green, and white. Flash senior looked around nervously, trying to stop then both before the big bat heard and yelled at them.

He kinda felt bad for the guy. Jason so deserves a cigarette for empathy. He scrouges around his jacket and pockets empty handed he searches around the floor, growing increasingly agitated. He knows he just had them, Jason just shared with John just a few minutes ago! He looked around accusingly. One of the brats must have stolen it. Green reared it's head begging him to teach the thief a lesson.

He latches his eyes on Tim just as he throws them into the sky to get blown to bits by the idiots. They don't even notice the extra fuel.

"Asshole!" Green clouded his vision as he stomped over to him and picked him up by his suit straps.

"It was for your own good!" He felt the green roar and rage behind his eyes. He could barely see past it, and weird purple haze around them made things even worse.

"Fuck you! And your do goody pretentious attitude!" He threw him at the ships cabin hitting the wood and shaking the whole ship. He felt eyes on him but he didn't care, Red Robin unleashed the bostaff and knocked his legs out form under him in one motion

"Red Hood! Stand down." Batman called from the top of the cabin shadows dampen the greens as his cape billows around him after he jumped down.

"Don't you dare tell me what to do!" He turned the green on his father, throwing a punch Batman barely managed to dodge.

"Jason -" Bruce grabbed his arms and wrapped himself around him, locking him in. He struggles wildly he's vaguely aware of Steph and Duke picking Tim up from the floor. Tim limps away, glaring at the other heros, they scattered into the corners of the ship, suddenly desperate to not be on the deck. God, what's wrong with him... he'd promised he'd never hurt his family again...this was a mistake he should have stayed behind in Gotham. Jason stopped fighting and let go, forcing his dad to follow him to the floor.

"Rough one, aren't you?" Pandora asks the tall alien looking amazon leers over them both. He wasn't a child, but his face reddens at the blatant condescension and scolding.

"We apologize if we interrupted anything." Bruce answers instead, saving him the embarrassment. "Not at all. It's good you're finally getting help here then."

"I'm afraid I don't follow?" Will any of these stupid fucking spirits just have a straight answer for just one question.

"Your liminalty? I can sense the ectoplasm on you it feels...like unsealed wine..." Pandora wrinkled her face as if she was imagining it. "Liminality?" He couldn't help but question out loud. "Ectoplasm? It's the...green goo, right?" Could the...pits actually just be ectoplasm? Wouldn't Constantine have, like, i don't know, exercised them??

Pandora groaned at his rambling and shook her head as if she couldn't believe what she was hearing. "You should meet the chief. He'll fix you." With that sentence repeated in the same ever grave tone the giant warrior left. He turned to bruce, but he was only met with his stone cold thoughts he left without meeting his eyes, and Jason couldn't help but remember how many times he's heard 'i can fix you.' It made him nauseous. Before he could realise it he was standing on the open deck with only the purple and green smog surrounding him God fucking dammit.

A/n really sorry for how long it took to get this out i know most of the posts on this story are taking forever and I'm sorry about that I'm not discontinuing the story but I've had some major writers block lately and I've been trying to cure it by writing other stories but I've just been hating how all them turned out lately. I've been trying to write some captain marvel golden age i just feel like I'm missing parts of Billy and I just hate it so if anyone has some tips for writing him particularly please share otherwise hope yall enjoyed this part snd happy holidays to everyone!!

[oh-koenig-my-koenig]

returning home

(cw: age gap 26/41; nsfw, mdni, smut, a bit of angst and drama, fluffiness and a lot of tears)

the part before: it's the parts of König that she didn't see

a/n: i'm sorry, this got a bit out of hand :') over 9k words, buckle in, we're in for a ride

I have been a mess those past four months. This has been the worst breakup of my life. I mean, not that I had that many partners before. And the only one I still sometimes cry after is my highschool sweetheart.

But this… we weren’t even an official thing. König and I spent a lot of time together in those few weeks, yes. But we never even clarified if we were in a relationship or not. Dating. Being exclusive. And sure, I was basically living at his place after only a week of knowing each other. But that didn’t mean anything in retrospect. Apparently.

You can’t really call in sick for a broken heart and I wasn’t able to leave my bed for a few days. Sleeping a lot, listening to all the sad love songs, barely eating. Until my mom came by, basically kicking me off my mattress. Forcing me – in a loving way – to get a grip and not mope around like a heartbroken mess.

The worst part was when I found one of his hoodies in between my stuff, I must have accidentally packed it with my clothes when I got everthing together, and it still smelled like him. It doesn't anymore because I have been wearing it nonstop when I'm at home. Not outside though, because the piece of clothing looks ridiculous on me with how big it is compared to my size. I could fit myself in there three times and the hem falls over my knees. If I press my face into the fabric, I still pick up hints of his scent. At least that’s what I tell myself.

The marks on my body faded too. The hickeys he left on my skin becoming fainter by each day, until they were gone.

I looked at all the pictures we took together. Well, more like, I took them and König is also in them. And the selfies we sent each other. The only ones I didn't keep were the filthy ones, because it felt wrong, so I deleted them. But I didn't have the heart to do that to the pictures of us, the ones that carried the memories. And it stopped hurting as much over time. At least that’s what I tell myself.

Lying in bed. The one he bought and we built together, because he broke mine. It's unfair, really, because he is gone and I can't escape him still. Repeating his words to me in my mind.

You should be with someone your age.

It never had been a topic for me, not something I would've spent a second thought on, at least not like this. But apparently, it had been on his mind.

Someone who can promise you that they'll come back every time.

And in the back of my mind there is still the little voice that wishes that he would just have had the guts to be with me. Despite the possibility of him not coming back in one piece, leaving me to mourn him. Because like this, he isn't in my life either. And I still worry about him, because there is no way for me to know that he still is in this life.

He didn't even want to hear my side of things. Or maybe he wanted to, but I was just too blindsided by it all, frozen in place as he “broke up” with me.

Afterwards, when I thought about what he said, I wanted to scream. To shout at him. Even if I could never really do that. I wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake him and ask him, what the fuck he was thinking. Why the fuck he was thinking that.

Fuck. I’m so sorry, Liebes.

His apologies didn’t help either. Because I wanted to be mad at him. I was mad at him, and I still am. At least that’s what I tell myself.

Because even though I get it - I get what he was telling me - I still don’t fully understand.

And I remember the look on his face as he was crouched before me. When it became painfully clear that I couldn’t read him.

I never meant for this to go this far or… this deep.

Well, I didn’t either. But it did. And he left, even though he felt the same way. Or at least so I thought.

After a few weeks I finally feel better. I’m okay with how it is. That’s what I tell myself.

Not at all ready to go out on dates again. Not that there is any rush. Not that there had been that many occasions, but still. The thought alone of being with somebody that's not him…

I get back to work, meet my friends, hang out with my family, and when they ask me how I’m doing, I can convincingly tell them I’m okay.

Almost every night the thing on my mind before I fall asleep is him. Nothing, but him, and how I wish he was lying right next to me. I still just want him to come back.

And I know I’m not making any sense. It’s just gonna take some more time to get over this.

When I wake up one morning and see the messages on my phone, I don't even realize what they mean at first.

I'm coming back tomorrow I don't deserve you, but if there's any chance that you'd want to see me again... I’m landing at the airfield in [REDACTED], at 1130 I'm sorry, and I understand if you've moved on or maybe we can talk sometime this week if you're busy whatever works for you or maybe you don’t want to talk to me at all which is fine as well, of course just let me know in Liebe, König

I blink, reading the messages over and over again. The little incoherent ramble until it finally clicks. He's coming back.

I groan, putting the phone away, hiding my face in my hands. Contemplating what I should do as the possibility of seeing him again churns in my stomach. And all the emotions come flooding back, tears pricking in the corner of my eye. God damn it.

Men and women are disembarking from the aircraft and I crane my neck, looking for him.

I’ve been waiting here for some time cause they were running late. And I’m not the only one, there are quite a bunch of people waiting. Probably families and partners? They all seemed relaxed, at least more relaxed than me.

I’m hopping from one leg to the other, my hands feel a little clammy as I knead them. And honestly, I’m a little nauseous.

More people in gear than I would have thought come off the plane, meeting up with their relatives, mingling with each other or just leaving.

I already fear that I completely misunderstood his messages, but that couldn’t have been possible, right? Maybe I shouldn't have come here, and just told him I’ll see him some time this week, maybe I shou-

Two more figures emerge from the cargo hold, coming down the ramp. I don’t recognize the man on the right, but the one on the left…

Beige cargo-pants, protectors on the knees and shins. A simple longsleeved shirt, black of course, and a bulletproof vest. Gloves and more protectors on his arms. The band of bright red beads around his wrist.

The mask, the hood fashioned out of simple fabric, red streaks down underneath the eyeholes, held in place by the helmet atop his head. Hiding his face away.

Fuck.

I only saw a picture of him in gear once, when he showed me, but I still would have recognized him instantly. His tall build, the attitude with which he carries himself, gives him away. This get-up can’t hide it.

He stills. Frozen in place, and from the distance I can’t make out anything.

I just stand there, unsure if he already saw me. And I lift my hand, just a little wave, before I drop it again.

Shit, maybe I should have told him that I was coming.

But then he starts running towards me. A slight jog at first, his strides getting longer with every step. I can’t just stand here either, my legs almost moving on their own.

Dropping the bag that hung over his shoulder. His gloved hands are fumbling with his helmet, until he gets it off, just throwing it away, and pulling of the mask too, and when I see his face for the first time in month, I feel tears prick in the corner of my eyes. Running a little faster, only a few meters between us now. The skin around his eyes is smeared with eyeblack, his long hair is clinging to his head, as he also gets rid of the balaclava, just pushing it down, so it sits around his neck, and then…

He stops, just a step before me, not to run me over, but I don’t, jumping up, jumping into his arms, the full impact of my body against his not moving the big guy a little bit. I’m clinging onto his shoulders as he catches me in his embrace. I’m burying my face in his neck, and when his scent hits my nostrils, a little sharper than usual, gunpowder and sweat mixing with his warm soothing scent, the tears flow free, staining his balaclava, wetting his cheeks. Sobs are shaking me as he presses me against him, my legs hugging around his waist.

“I missed you so fucking much.”, he says, his deep voice shaky, and I can’t even answer because it just makes me cry more. “Ssssh, Liebes. Don’t cry.”, he tries to comfort me, but hearing his favourite term of endearment only lets the tears flow freely. “I didn’t wanna make you cry.”

“To-oo late for - that.”, I press out between two sobs.

“I’m so sorry, fuck.”, he sighs, his arms closing even tighter around me. “I don't know how I will ever make it up to you.” His gloved hand is softly caressing down my back.

“I missed you too.”, I finally manage to say, my voice thick with tears, pressing myself against him, and I never wanna let go.

But I need to pull back, only a little, just to look at him again. Touch him. Convince myself that this is real.

My vision is blurred, but that’s still him, his face so close to mine. His gaze intently on me, while one of my hands grabs him, my fingers caressing over his jaw, the stubble a little longer than I’m used to, the smudged black colour around the eye area making him look a little different. He leans into my palm, the eyebrows pulling up and the tension melting away.

His hand cups mine, his thumb softly caressing over it, such soft touches and another small sob is shaking me.

“I don’t want to overstep anything.”, he whispers. “But I would really like to kiss you.”

And I nod, not able to speak the words yet. And before he can lean in, I already press my lips to his. When my mouth meets his, and I taste the saltiness of my tears intermingling with his scent, the wave of relief that floods me is indescribable.

It's as soft as I remember, something that always surprised me. How soft his kisses are.

The way his lips press against mine, like he's searching for something, tasting me. Nipping at my lower lip, his nose rubbing against mine. His stubble scratching over my skin as he tilts his head.

He presses kisses to the corner of my mouth, my cheeks, my nose. All over my face, slowly drying up my tears, and I take a deep breath, calming myself down. He really is back.

When I finally take a look around, I realise that we’re off to the side a bit, but not that far away from the others on the tarmac, so… this must be quite the spectacle for his colleagues and the people who waited for them. Some of them are in tight hugs or talking with the civilians, but some are also looking in our direction, every once in a while. I don't have any time to feel self-conscious though, about being a teary mess.

And the guy who disembarked the aircraft with König comes our way, a little hesitantly, but smiling at us both.

“Köni.”, he says in a deep, but friendly voice, omitting the g in his name.

“Horangi.”, König says, setting me down, but keeping me close by his side, and I wouldn’t have moved an inch away.

The man in front of us is dressed in green and beige camo, quite different from what the big guy is wearing except for the pants. A similarly coloured balaclava around his neck and sporty sunglasses on his head, sitting on top of it in his hair, complete the look.

“I heard so much about you.”, he says lightly, addressing me.

“You did?” My eyebrows shoot up, almost colliding with my hairline.

He nods, grinning, not fazed at all by the threatening stare from König. “Yes. Every time he drank just a little too much, he wouldn't shut up about you.”, Horangi says. “You did a number on the guy.”

I don't know what to say to that at first, honestly a little gobsmacked. “I did?”

“Yeah, yeah, now fuck off.”, König says to Horangi, patting the other man’s back, the frown on his face turning into a grumpy smile.

“See ya, Colonel.”, he says with a grin. “Enjoy your leave.”, adding a little joking salute, before stomping off.

I wave after him, confused for a moment. Colonel?

“Don't mind him.”, König grumbles as I turn to him again, but he doesn't look mad in the slightest bit. “He doesn't know how to behave sometimes.”

My arms closing around his waist, and he repositions me a bit, so the straps on his bullet proof vest don’t press into my cheek.

“So, you really did miss me.”, I say pulling him tighter. Not a question, a statement.

“I did.”, he answers almost solemn as he brushes a stray strand of hair out of my face.

Some of the soldiers are still standing around, talking to each other and the people around them, but I can’t make out what they’re saying.

“They’re still looking.”, I whisper to him, unsure what that means.

“Yeah, cause they’re all seeing my face.”, he whispers back, smiling down at me.

Right, the hood!

“Oh shit, I forgot about the mask thing.”, I say, my hand clasping over my mouth. “I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s fine.”, he says softly. “They'll survive seeing my face. And I will too.”

“Right, still.”

“Don’t worry about it. I asked you to come here.” He pauses for a moment. “More on a whim, cause I didn’t really think you actually would.”

I take a deep breath. “To be honest, until this morning I didn’t know either.” My eyes pan up to meet his. When I woke up, I knew that I wanted to see him. But only when I got into my car, I called into work to take a personal day off and instead drove here.

“I’m glad you did.”, he says, holding my gaze.

“Me too.”, I whisper back.

“Cause Horangi was right. I was miserable.”

Just like I was. “Really?”, I ask him again, almost soundlessly.

“I was fucking miserable without you.”, he repeats, picking me up again and pressing another kiss to my lips.

I think I don't wanna leave his embrace ever again. But we still have stuff to talk about. Stuff to sort out. And we really can't do that here.

Plus his kisses have their usual effect. As the emotional turmoil and tears dissipate, a familiar feeling spreads through my body, my lower belly tensing up.

“You’re here in your car?”, he asks quietly in between two more kisses. Getting more desperate.

“Yeah.”, I say. “I parked it around the corner.”

“Okay, you wanna get out of here then?”

I just nod, kissing him again, and his little hum against my lips lets tingles erupt all over me. Then we're out of here.

Not before picking up his helmet and hood that he shed on the way, me still in his arms, getting his duffle bag, and I can’t help the little giggle escaping me, because he refuses to set me down when he bends down. Carrying me like I weigh nothing, also not willing to leave my side even for a moment.

On the way to the car, it gets even a little more heated and I’m glad when we turn the corner, hiding away from other eyes.

He’s taking huge strides, heading right for my car, that he spotted in an instant, the small silver one.

My fingers are tangled in his hair, his hands grabbing my ass and thighs, and I pull the car key out my pocket and unlock it. He opens the car door, lying me down on the cushioned seat and I scoot back to make room for him.

Reminders flood my brain how we did it in the back of his car, much bigger than the Toyota I drive. It’s way too small for him, but that doesn’t stop us.

I push off my shoes and get my pants off quickly as he climbs in over me, his shoulders pressing up against the roof of the car, while he sheds his protectors and gloves and shuts the door behind him.

A moment later, I’m folded in half, my knees against my chest, the feet up in the air brushing against the frame of the car. His hands gripping my thighs, spreading me for him.

König is eating me out like a starved man, soft mewls and grunts dropping from his lips, the vibrations of them against my sensitive skin.

“Oh fuck.”, I groan.

His hair is falling over his face, but I just want to see him, brushing the strands back. His gaze burning into me as he looks up at me, the eyeblack giving him a rugged look.

Desperately licking me, my juices glistening all over the lower part of his face. The stubble that is longer than usual is scratching against the insides of my thighs, but I don’t care about that right now, in the contrary, the soft scratch right there makes me even hotter.

It’s him. in this get-up, a little different than I was used to, but it’s him.

When he slips his fingers into me, his lips closing around my clit, sucking on the sensitive bud, something that always made me lose my mind fast, and this is no exception.

The way he fills me up, his thick digits stretching me. His tongue working my pussy, knowing exactly what makes me cry out. His mouth wandering, littering my inner thigh with kisses and hickeys.

The bites and nibbles send shivers down my body, my hips rutting forward, pushing my pussy into him. His arm comes over tummy, holding me in place, so I can't escape his touches.

“Yes, please, just-”, I sigh, and I can feels how he curls his fingers inside me, hitting just the right spot.

I come around them, my cries a bit too loud in my own ears in the small space, and I almost bump my head into the car door behind me as he doesn’t let up, but dives in again. His tongue is toying with my clit, dragging over it, slow, broad licks, and my body shakes and convulses.

“König…”, I plead, my hand tangled in his hair.

He finally pulls back a bit, still lapping everything up, even putting his own fingers in his mouth. His lips closing around them, his lids fluttering for just a moment.

“You taste so fucking good, Kleine.”, he whispers, not breaking eye contact as he meticulously licks my arousal off them, and I can’t help the blush on my face, especially when his tongues darts through between them. Fuck.

Instead of an answer, I pull him into me, to kiss him again, tasting myself on his lips, my hands dropping to his belt, fumbling with the clasp. I want more. I want him.

“Wait.”, he says, his hand coming over mine, I can feel the lingering wetness on them, and I still for a moment. “Shouldn’t we like…”

“You…. don’t want to?”

"No, of course I do, Liebes… I just want to do it right, you know? Make it right. In a proper bed."

I pull one of my eyebrows up. He thinks about that now after eating me out. "We can still do that later, no worries."

"But- I-"

"Yeah, that's all really noble, but right now I just need you." I kiss him again. "So shut up and fuck me. Please.", I say, still fumbling with his belt.

“I don’t have any condoms with me.”, he says, still not helping me to get his gear off.

I pull up an eyebrow. “And?” We did it raw many times, why would it be…

"Did you not... You didn't...?", he stammers, his eyes searching mine.

And then it dawns on me. "If you're gonna ask, if I slept with somebody else in the meantime, I suggest you don't. Because I fucking didn't." Adding after a moment’s pause: “Did you?”

"Fuck, no.”, he answers without hesitation, but his whole body is still shaken with agitation. “Fuck, I'm sorry, I just-" His hand strokes through his hair, exasperated, straightening up a bit and almost hitting his head on the roof of the car.

"König."

He stills, his eyes on me again and I can see the turmoil in them.

"I didn't want anybody else, I just wanted you back.", I say, my voice a little shaky. "And now that I've got you back, I just need to feel you. We can talk and do all the other stuff after getting home, okay?"

Home. The word slipped over my lips before I could think about it. It's out there before I can take it back.

He doesn't move a bit, just looks at me incredulously, and my hand shoots out to grab him which pulls him from his thoughts.

“I do not fucking deserve you.”, he whispers, and then it all happens very quickly. Pulling the zipper down and getting his dick out, the tip slipping between my folds.

He doesn't wait a moment longer and we both groan in unison when he slides into me, and the familiar feeling floods me, the stretch deliciously making me squirm.

Yet my eyes don't leave his for even a moment, not daring to close them, in case this is still a dream and he did not really come back.

But when he grasps my chin, tilting it up and leaning down to press his lips to mine, the tears that have been welling up again roll down my cheeks, the wetness blurring my vision.

I wipe them away, aggressively, a little mad at myself that I just can't stop crying. “Fuck, just… I-” I sigh. “Those fucking tears.”

He’s not saying anything, his thumb brushing over my cheek, a soothing gesture. His lips are peppering kisses all over my face as he starts to fuck me, slowly and sweetly.

I look down to where we are connected, seeing him push into me, seeing and feeling his dick slip into me. As deep as he can go.

With the position I’m in, folded in half, my belly is bulging with every thrust, just a bit, but still. And when he bottoms me out, time after time after time, I inadvertently squeeze around him.

“Fuck, you feel so good.”, he groans.

He’s not fucking me fast, more hard and deep. The sound of skin against skin when his lap collides with the plush of my thighs, loud and quite heavy. And I’m underneath him, framed by his strong arms, holding onto them.

Every single one of his thrusts lets a moan slip out of me, especially with how his pubic bone is pressing up against my sensitive clit, over and over again.

My breath hits his face, the look on it still a little incredulous, the almost enamored smile.

His breath is getting heavier too, rattling grunts shaking his chest. I wanna feel them, I wanna feel his rapid heartbeat against my fingertips. My hand slips under his vest, the other one holding onto it. The soft fabric of his compression shirt is warm, feeling his heartbeat strum against the palm of my hand, as I look up at him. Back in one piece. Alive.

The telltale signs how close he is are written on his face. The breath that halts in his throat every so often. The way his jaw drops. His brows draw together, not his usual frown, the ever-present scowl. Ecstasy visible on his features. And his eyes pressing together, for just a moment.

Looking down at me again, he’s still fucking me, my knees pressed up against my chest, his propped-up arms carrying most, but not all of his weight. My fingers are grabbing his bulletproof vest, needing him closer. The buttons of his waistband and the belt pressing into my ass with every thrust.

But all those sensations get overtaken when my second orgasm washes over me abruptly, just holding onto him, and I can’t keep my eyes open anymore, when he doesn’t stop. The pushes of his hips, how he rolls them into me, getting a little more desperate, almost losing the rhythm, as I clench around him.

He’s buried deep inside me, filling me up when he comes, and groans drop from his lips. His face contorting in pleasure. I missed his stupid face, and apparently I also missed his O-face.

He takes a big breath, backing off a bit, giving me a moment to reposition my legs. When his dick slips out of me, I sigh, feeling a bit empty and the wetness against my stomach as it rests over it.

His big heavy body slumps over me, and we just stay like that for a while. Cheek to cheek. My arms around his neck, his hands softly caressing down my body.

Maybe I could even stay like this forever.

Again I remember the time we did it on the backseat of his car, that was much more spacious. Half an eternity ago. Only the second time we ever did it.

Softly kissing now and then. The little sounds and our breath the only thing in the calm silence around us, until he breaks it.

“Can I take you home?”

“Yes.”, I answer without hesitation. We still have some stuff to sort out, and we should get going.

He’s zipping himself up, I put on my pants again, his cum seeping into my panties now, but I don’t even care and get into the driver’s seat, the doors close behind us.

And for once he is in the passenger’s seat, my car still way too small for the big man. It’s almost ridiculous how his stature fills the car. He almost has to duck his head like this, even without the helmet, dwarfing the whole space.

I chuckle a little, put on some music and start driving.

“So Colonel, huh?”, I ask him, pulling an eyebrow up.

“Yeah.”, he says, scratching the back of his head. “I don’t know why I never told you.”

“It’s okay.”, I say. “I guess, that doesn’t really matter in the civilian life.”

“It doesn’t.”, he agrees. “But it also feels like I wasn’t fully honest with you. Which is shitty.”

I clasp my hand over his for a moment, squeezing his fingers. A little reassurance. I don't care about his rank cause it doesn't change anything anyway, and I also never bothered to ask.

“So, I wouldn't get in trouble for insubordination if I called you Sir and not Colonel?”, I ask him, teasingly.

His brows furrow, that certain look in his eyes like always when I was being bratty - and I missed that too.

“You won't.”, he grumbles.

I can't help the little laugh. “Good to know.”

I look to the side, and there he is. It’s him, even in this get-up, it’s him. In my car.

And he’s grinning back at me, not as bright as I was used to, but still. I shake my head as I look back onto the street. He really is back.

I pull into the driveway, the sight of his house alone pulling at my heartstrings. The heavy feeling hits me, the lightheartedness I felt before taking a little hit, even before turning the motor off, getting out the car and heading inside.

He unlocks the door and goes inside, putting down the duffle bag, as I follow him. I stand around a little unsure, taking my shoes off, before heading to the living room.

When I see the couch, I have to swallow my emotions down, not ready to cry again. The memories come rushing back and I just need a moment to take it all in.

Heavy steps behind me, warmth emanating from his body. His presence so tangible, even when he’s not touching me. I’m still so tuned into him.

And I turn.

God damn, I almost forgot how big he is. He fills the doorframe that has been fit to his height. His shoulders seeming even broader in his gear. His head almost grazing the top of the frame.

And I have to tilt my head back to look up at him. We just stand here for a moment.

“I need to shower.. you, uh-”, he starts.

“I’m just gonna wait here, okay?”

He nods. “Yes, of course.” He hands me his phone. “You wanna order something to eat in the meantime? For us.”

“I can do that.”

“Pick whatever you like.”, he tells me before rushing up the stairs with huge strides, taking his bag with him.

I sigh and take a seat at the dinner table we barely ever used. Not daring to sit on the couch like I usually would have.

Unlocking his phone, only clicking on the delivery app, of course. Searching for his favourite take-out place, the grill with the nice little garden out back.

Does he deserve it? I don't know, maybe not. But I'm not gonna be petty over food. I’m adding another dessert for myself, though.

After I placed the order, I put his phone away, picking up mine instead. Scrolling on the usual apps, waiting because I don't know what else to do. He’s taking longer than I’m used to for the shower. And I can feel myself getting a bit restless. My mind coming back to the things he said. When he broke up with me and then today when he came back.

Heavy steps are coming down the stairs, him emerging in a get up I’m more used to, a simple black shirt and shorts.

His hair is still a bit wet, clinging to him in strands. He’s freshly shaved too, the stubble he had before gone. And I can smell the clean and sharp tone of his after-shave when he walks up to me.

“Food will be here soon.”, I tell him, because I don’t know what else to say.

“Okay, thank you.”

“Your favorite.”

“You didn't need to do that.”

“I know.” I hand him back his phone. “And I didn't snoop through it or anything.”

He nods, acknowledging my comment. “I trust you.” He steps a bit closer, taking it. “But you wouldn't have found anything noteworthy either. My phone is embarrassingly empty.” He looks up from the device, to me, a lopsided wry smile adorning his face. “Mostly work emails and photos of you I couldn't bring myself to delete.”

“Yeah?”

He nods.

“What’s the other stuff?”

“Photos of Mimi.” His smile is turning into a grin.

“That little minx. I should have known.”, I say exasperated, but jokingly.

He’s still standing there, swaying from one foot to the other ever so slightly, and almost wanna tell him to just sit down.

“I thought about calling you. I just didn't know what to say.”, he says, his voice quiet. “I wasn't even sure you'd pick up.”

“I don't know if I could have handled talking to you over the phone.”, I say carefully, but honestly. I probably wouldn’t have picked up.

He just nods. “I understand.”

“I actually didn’t know what to think when you texted me.”, I continue. “It was a lot. After a few months of no bleep, no nothing.”

“I wanted to text you. I just chickened out every time.”, he says. “But Horangi kicked some sense into me.”

“Does he do that often?”, I ask, biting back a grin, when remembering the conversation with him earlier. How he basically snitched on him, painting the a bit pathetic picture of drunk König who missed me so much that he wouldn't shut up about me. After he broke up with me of his own volition.

He tilts his head to the side, grudgingly admitting: “Sometimes.”

“And we all need friends like that sometimes.”, I say.

He laughs a little and confesses. “Yeah, he actually helped me phrase the messages because I just didn’t know how I-” He breaks off. “I meant everything I said though.” His eyes find mine again. “I would've understood if you didn't have time or if you just didn't wanna see me. But I still had to try. And I meant it earlier, when I said that I’m glad you came.”

The look on his face, almost pleading. And I feel the same way, but being here with him still feels a little… overwhelming.

“I-”

The doorbell ringing disrupts our conversation. He turns and hurries to the door. I can hear him talk to the delivery person as I get up and hurry to the kitchen to get plates and cutlery.

We’re both coming back a few moments later, setting everything down on the dinner table, taking a seat next to each other. Opening up the containers of food, laying everything out. Loading our plates up, my stomach grumbling. I hadn’t eaten all day, too anxious and nervous. I dig in, taking spoonsfuls of the veggies with rice, and I feel how his eyes are on me, how he’s watching me.

I meet his eyes when he breaks the silence again.

“I missed your birthday, didn't I?”, he asks, but judging from the look on his face he already knows the answer.

“Yeah, a few weeks ago.”, I say, nodding.

“Now there's ‘only’ 15 years between us.”, he says, matter-of-factly.

“There are.”, I agree. “But it doesn’t matter. 15, 16, what’s the difference.”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

I put my fork down for a moment and just tell him outright what I have been thinking: “When I teased you, it was never about that. Our age difference never was an issue for me, you know. But I will never call you an old man again, if there is a chance that you will throw it in my face like that.” I pause. “Again.”

“I’m not gonna do that - again.”, he reassures me.

“Good.” I take a deep breath. “If I had known that this was plaguing you, I could have put your mind at ease. Or at least tried.”

“It’s not on you.”, he says with a sigh, his hand dragging over his face for just a moment, rubbing over his eyes. I can feel the frustration emanating off him. “I just- I tried to hide it.” Like he also tried to hide it when he had shit days. I wanna grab him by the shoulders and shake him.

“I figured. Because the whole… conversation came out of nowhere for me.”

“Yeah, I felt like such an asshole afterwards. I went about it the most blunt way. The whole thing anyway… it was a mistake.”, he continues, point-blank. “And I’m sorry for that.”

If we had this talk only weeks after he left, I would have been so mad still. The distance helped. It's also helping right now. Acknowledging that it had been a mistake, it doesn't make the "break up"-thing go away. But I feel like I still needed to hear that.

“It’s okay.”, I whisper.

He shakes his head. “It’s not.”, he says. “It wasn’t okay.”

“I know.” I reach for him, our fingers intertwining, my thumb softly caressing over the back of his hand. Our eyes meet and I can see his emotions in them, clearer than ever before. Not trying to hide them anymore. And I understand. A little smile stalks onto my face.

“Let’s just eat, okay?”

And I never have to tell him that twice.

After we finished up, he carries the plates and leftovers to the kitchen, refusing my help, and I finally take a seat on the big couch, slumping into the cushions.

König emerges in the doorframe, just standing there. Frozen in place. I put my phone down and for a moment we just look at each other. The same familiarity hits me, but the guilty look on his face tells me why he’s not moving an inch closer.

It's a bit ridiculous. We fucked, we ate together, we talked about some of the shit that went down. He apologized - again.

I softly pat the cushion beside me. “Come here.”

He’s taking a few steps, hesitatingly approaching and sitting down. But he stops there. I look up at him from the side, and I have never seen him so unsure. It's almost a little sweet.

Grabbing him, I pull him down to me and he just lets me. Positioning his head in my lap, cradling his face, and he lies down the feet dangling over the side of the couch. When my hand caresses over his chest, he sighs. Relaxing into the cushions. I can almost hear the weight drop from his shoulders as he melts into my touch. His hand clinging onto my arm. His brows turning up as he looks up at me.

For a moment we just sit in silence and I let the calmness flood me that his proximity brings. Playing with the long strands of his hair. Softly straightening out the waves that always form when they are freshly washed. Looking down at him.

“I don’t fucking deserve you.”, he whispers.

And there it is again. That sentence. It bothered me when I read it in the messages he sent. And then when he uttered them today.

I grab his face and make him look at me. Squishing his cheeks. “Don’t say that.”, I tell him, my voice trembling. “Don’t fucking say that.”

He stills, his eyes flitting between mine, his mouth dropping open a little.

“I didn’t- I…” I’ve almost never seen him speechless, but today every time I’ve said something that he seemingly didn’t expect he just looked at me like that.

“You think it's flattering or whatever. It’s not.”, I say, exasperated. “It’s like I’m on a fucking pedastal. It doesn’t make me fucking feel good, okay?”

“I’m sorry.”

I shake my head. I don’t need anymore “sorry”s from him. “You already thought that before you broke up with me, didn’t you?”

He hesitates for a moment before nodding. Silence between us as I only look at him, reading what’s in his eyes.

“Beating yourself up over this isn’t gonna make either of us feel better. I don’t want you to grovel like a beaten dog. I just want you to be honest with me what’s going on in this thick head of yours.” Tapping on said thick head.

“Yeah, you fucking hurt me by just dropping me off in my flat and fucking off because you thought it was the right thing for both of us. I don’t need you to think for me. I just need you to talk to me.” Damn, I’m laying into him right now, but I fear otherwise I’m not gonna get through the thickheaded stubborness.

“I didn’t mean to go over your head like I did. I was too in my own head already, so it was the only thing that made sense to me.”, he says as calmly as he manages. “I thought it was the right thing for you.”

“Because you didn’t deserve me anyways and I would be better off with someone else, right?”, I summarize. I can’t help but sound a little bitter. And I realise now that that was the thing that hurt me the most.

He nods again.

I feel the jab in my heart. Not knowing what to say to that. It's not nice to have the person you're with express the sentiment that you should be with someone else. Well, it’s pretty fucking far from nice.

He casts his eyes down, fidgeting with his wristband, not daring to look at me. And I can practically feel his self-deprecation prickling at my fingertips, the hand still lying on his chest, clearer than ever before.

“I thought I would be selfish to have you wait for me. And I realised that the opposite is true. I was a coward, I just fucking ran away.”, he sighs, and I can hear the shame in his voice.

His hand clasps over mine, squeezing my fingers.

“You did.”, I simply say.

“And it didn’t fucking solve anything.” He laughs, a barking joyless laugh. “For the first time in a long time it was worse without someone else, you know.” He pauses for a moment, finally looking up at me again. You don't need to be Sherlock to know who he's talking about.

I nod, swallowing back my emotions again, squeezing his hand back. “And it didn’t have to be like this.”

“Fuck. I know, I just- wanna kick myself every time I think about it.” An exhausted and frustrated sigh rising up from deep in his chest. “I don't know what I can say to make it all okay again. I don't know what to tell you to-”

“Just show me.”, I interrupt him before he can go down that spiral. He stills

“I’m gonna make it up to you, I swear.” His hand grabs mine a bit tighter. Pulling it up to his face and pressing a kiss to my knuckles.

I nod, a little smile stalking onto my face. “Okay, good.”, I say, adding a “And don't ever say you're undeserving again.”

“I won't.”

“Thank you.” I lean down and press a soft kiss to his lips, and he answers it like it holds the promise he just made.

When I pull back, I don’t get far cause he is cradling my cheek, not letting me go anywhere.

“Did anybody ever tell you that it’s hot when you get all bossy like that?”, he whispers, a small grin forming on his face.

“Yeah?”, I say, tongue in cheek. “You like getting ripped to shreds?”

“Only by you, Hexe.” which makes me laugh. “But I deserved it too.”, he says.

“You did a little bit.”, I say graciously, and we both laugh.

We just stay like this for a while, holding hands, and I can take a deep breath feeling most of the weight drop away from me that I felt walking into the living room.

He turns to the side, his cheek pressing against my belly as his arms close around me, around my waist. As close as he can get.

I’m brushing his hair out of his face, playing with it. Massaging his neck and shoulders, softly caressing.

He almost falls asleep like that, and I don't think I’ve ever seen him so peaceful. Deep calm breaths. Not a wrinkle on his forehead as I brush over it with my thumb. His eyebrows are turned up. Not even a hint of a frown on his face.

He grabs my hand, pressing sweet kisses to my fingers. “Stay with me.”, he whispers. “Please.”

“You sure?”, I ask.

He nods, not letting go of me. “I just want my bed and you in it, like I dreamed about those last few weeks. So… please?”

And it finally sinks in that the break was just as painful for him as it had been for me. Because I dreamed of the same thing. “Okay.”

He doesn't need anything else, just gets up off the couch, picking me up as well.

I can't help the giggle rising up my throat when my legs close around his hips and my lips find his neck, kissing the sensitive spots, the ones that always make him shiver. My fingertips are digging into his shoulders. The soft lingering touches I know will get him riled up.

He hums. “Glad to see that your ass is still as bratty as before.”, he grumbles, but he can't hide the grin as he playfully places the tiniest spank on said butt.

“Never.”, I tell him before he kicks open the bed room and lies me down on the bed.

We both scramble to get rid of our clothes, pulling them off quickly. He crawls over me, his dick nudging against my pussy while he settles between my thighs and his lips land on mine. His long hair falls over me like a veil, the tips tickling my naked skin.

His hand drops down, his fingers rubbing over my clit as he pushes into me. Carefully enough. And I sigh taking him in.

His mouth is coasting over my neck, making me shiver as he kisses, nibbles and bites. Leaving marks where anyone can see. Licking the sensitive skin, his tongue drawing wet tracks over it. His heavy breath hitting the shell of my ear as he pulls my head back and sucks on the sensitive spot right beneath it.

My fingers are digging into his shoulders and back, his muscles, leaving my own marks with my nails. Dropping down further until I grab his asscheeks, pulling him into me.

He chuckles, pushing deeper, his thrusts picking up pace. I arch my back to meet his movements, my chest against his, the sensations making me throw my head back.

His hand catches my chin, and he’s telling me: “Look at me, Liebes, please just look at me.”

My eyes meet his, a satisfied deep hum rising up his throat. And I never felt more at the center of anybody's attention than in that moment.

He turns, and suddenly I’m on top, riding him, my hands placed on his hairy chest. Slowly sliding up and down his length. One of his arms around my waist, the other on my ass guides me. I almost can't handle it, the way he fills me up in this position, his tip nudging against my cervix. But fuck. I have missed this.

Not just the sex. The closeness. The familiarity. Him.

König looks up at me, the same look on his face that I have seen a few times today, the one that I still can’t quite place what it means. But I love when he looks at me like that. If the warm fuzzy feeling in my chest is any indication.

We spend the rest of the day in bed, talking, fucking, listening to music, sometimes almost dozing off. Until it’s late, almost a bit too late.

My head is resting against his chest, his heartbeat strong and steady, his legs entangled with mine. His burly tattooed arms embracing me, pulling me against him. His cheek resting atop my forehead with the way I’m nuzzled into the crook of his neck, so his hair is tickling me when he moves a bit.

His body all around me, with nowhere else to go.

I didn’t like sleeping like this ever before I got to know him. But I really don’t mind anymore. I really don’t.

When I open my eyes the next morning, I need a moment to catch up where I am. König’s bedroom. In his bed, the soft sheets against my naked skin. I stretch a little and turn to the side, expecting to find him still fast asleep. But I’m greeted with a smile on his face, his eyes on me. Wide awake already.

“Good morning, Liebes.”, he says softly, catching my hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it, and I have to swallow to not instantly burst into tears.

“Hi.”, I answer, trying a little wobbly smile.

His hand shoots out and he caresses over my cheek. A simple gesture, one he did so many times before, but right now it has me crying again.

“Oh Liebes.”, he coos as he sees the tear rolling down my face.

“I swear, I don't wanna cry! I must be getting my period or something.”, I grumble while he presses kisses to my cheeks, softly kissing away the tears.

“I’m gonna make you laugh and come twice as much for every time you cried.”, he says, and the twinkle in his eyes tells me that he is joking, yet at the same time seeming earnest.

I break out in laughter. “That would be a lot of jokes and a lot of orgasms.”, I gasp out, wiping the wetness from my cheeks.

He leans down and gives me a kiss. “That’s okay. Cause I’m not going anywhere.” He pulls back a bit.

“Don't make any promises you can't keep.”, I say.

“I wouldn’t.”, he says, his voice serious and his gaze soft. “I promise.”

I nod. “Okay.”

“Now let me start with it. I already got a laugh out of you.”

“You insatiable man. Let me go get my teeth brushed first or-”

“No time!”, he exclaims, pulling away the blanket, to position himself between my legs.

I burst into laughter again, the sounds turning into moans when he pulls away my panties and puts his mouth on me.

“Another laugh… that means I need to keep up with the orgasms.”, he quips, mischief lighting up his eyes as his tongue dips into me.

I sigh, snuggling myself back into the comfy sheets, grinding my hips against his face. Meticulously he eats me out, getting all sloppy with it.

His hands are grabbing the swells of my ass, my legs over his shoulders, until he is buried between my thighs. They are littered with all the marks he left there. Faint bites and hickeys. And he’s leaving even more. Oh god, I missed them.

He spits once before his fingers push into me, soft squelching when he fills me up. I’m still a little sleepy, yawning once while I stretch. Meeting his movements and touches.

“Feels so good.”, I tell him, and a little smile forming on his lips as I look down at him.

“Yeah?”, he quips, his thumb rubbing over my clit while he fingerfucks me, slow and deliberately.

I barely can hold the eye contact, almost a little shy, although we did this what feels like a million times. “Yeah.”

He slips his fingers out of me, taking over with his mouth again. I feel the wetness on his fingers as he grabs my thigh again, his fingertips pressing into the plush.

In the time apart nothing had changed about this. It still feels like he has memorized every little part of me, which buttons to push to make me cry out.

His own moans and grunts give away just how much he enjoys this, and I don’t think I will ever get enough of him. Seeing how his hips restlessly move, almost fucking into the mattress, while his tongue dips into me, fucking into me, over and over again, it does something to me as well.

When he nips at my clit, I jolt, my hips lifting off the mattress, but he doesn’t let me go anywhere. Repeating the same move and I come on his face. My back arching, my fingers grabbing at the sheets, curses dropping from my lips.

With a deep breath I look at him again, the big man still very comfortable between my legs, his chin and lips glistening with moisture before he wipes it away.

“And that’s the first one.”, he says with a little grin, and I can’t help the little laugh.

I sit up and grab him. “Yeah, but it’s your turn now.”, I tell him as I pull him up to me, needing him closer.

A wry smile adorns his face. “I’m sorry, Liebes, I already...”

“You… what?”, I ask a little dumbfounded. Looking down while he sits back on his knees, his tummy all sticky, coated in his come. The sheets beneath him soiled, like he humped himself to completion spilling all over them, while eating me out. My jaw drops. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

This man. The lop-sided smirk, making him look younger than he is. The long hair all messy. Not ashamed in the slightest that he came like that, just eating me out.

“Just give me a few minutes, okay?” He grins down at me as he crawls over me. “And maybe a shower.”

“But I need to get to work!”, I tell him.

“Who said, you'll ever leave this house again?”

“König!”

“I’m keeping you.”, he says, like a definite statement, while he scoops me up and tosses me over his shoulder.

“Brute.”, I say poutily while I can't hold back my giggles.

He just laughs, grabbing my ass as he carries me to the bathroom. “Gonna fuck you in the shower, two birds with one stone. Still need to make you come one more time.”, he lays out his plan.

And I could never say no to that, could I?

We manage to be on time though, even drinking a coffee in the kitchen together, and then he drives me to work.

He also picks me up again, not ready to spend any possible moment apart.

The stupidest biggest grin stalks onto my face when I head out of the office and see his car already parked, faint drum and bass sounds penetrating through. I run up to it and open the door, recognizing the song as Shadow of Intent’s ‘Oudenophobia’, one of the songs I showed him some time ago.

I get into the passenger seat, his hands already grabbing me before I’m properly sitting. Pressing his lips to mine in a kiss. The simple greeting turning into something else with the way he kisses me. Like he doesn’t want to let go.

“Hi.”, I finally manage to say, a little out of breath.

“Sorry, missed you all day.”, he whispers apologetically, backing off a bit, just looking at me.

“No, come back here.”, I say, my hand grabbing his neck, fingers tangled in his hair, and I pull him down to me again for another kiss.

When he pulls back now, he’s grinning down at me. And I don’t need to tell him that I missed him too. He knows.

König straightens up in his seat, shifts the car into gear and pulls out of the parking lot. (The only thing he ever pulls out of, really)

“What’s the plan for today, Prinzesserl?”, he asks me then.

“Oh oh, there is this new Asian fusion place that opened up a few weeks ago.”, I say. “I haven’t been yet.”

He pulls up his eyebrows. “Asian fusion?”

“Yes.”, I say. “They have all kinds of stuff from all over.”

“Spring rolls too?”

“I bet.” I grin up at him.

“Then let’s go.”, he says, the expression on his face mirroring mine.

I sit back, crossing my legs and snuggling into my seat. His hand lands on my thigh and mine clasps over it.

It’s like he never left. Well almost, at least.

And I know that not everything’s forgotten. It doesn’t work like that. My heart is content, but my mind is still catching up. Sometimes thinking about what he said when he left. The promises he made when he came back. Working out how this relationship between us will be from now on. Working with him on that, for both our sakes.

Because despite what happened and my efforts while he was gone... I still do love him.

And we both deserve it.

the whole story in the Masterlist

i'm sorry, i'm so in love with this man that isn't real :') (well, he is, in my mind)

[masonmyluv]

Birthday present - Pedri Gonzalez

A/N: A little something I wrote for his bday🤭 Happy birthday to this cutie aka Pedri Potter Gonzalez Lopez 💙🎉

Warnings: smut 18+ 🔞🔞🔞

"Pablo, I told you I don't want to celebrate"

"But it's your birthday!"

"We have an important game tomorrow" Pedri said. "So? We should at least sing you happy birthday" Pablo said, dragging Pedri inside the locker room. Pablo double-checked your text earlier, saying that you landed safely and were about to pick the cake.

"Happy birthday!!!" Everyone yelled when Pedri entered the room. "Yeah thanks guys" he smiled. "Happy birthday my guy" Ferran said, hugging him. "W-what..." Pedri was at loss of words when he noticed you behind Ferran's back. "Surprise" you giggled. "How... you..." he was at loss of words as he pulled you into a tight hug. "I feel betrayed" Ferran joked. "Missed you" Pedri whispered into your neck. "Missed you too, my love" you said, pecking his lips. "Happy" kiss "birthday" kiss "to the best" kiss "boyfriend" kiss "in the world" kiss.

"Okay get a room" Ferran shouted. "You brought cake?" Pedri asked. "Yes, and everyone is allowed to eat" Xavi said, already on his second slice, which he thought no one saw, but you did. Hehe. Everyone sat down, eating cake, all except Pedri. He was looking at you and playing with your fingers. "You okay? The cake is really good" you said, mouth full of cake. "Yeah... just happy you're here" he said, kissing the top of your head. "You don't seem really happy" Pablo butted in. "Tomorrow I'll be at the game wearing your t-shirt" you whispered. "And tomorrow I'll give you the other present" you added so that no one could hear. "Now he's smiling" Pablo smirked. "I wonder what you told him". "Nothing" Pedri replied too fast. "Mhm" Pablo said. You shot him a look, but couldn't be mad at him. After all, he was the one who helped you plan the surprise for your boyfriend, so you were thankful to have a friend like him.

—— day of the game ——

"Good luck, guapo" you whispered, kissing him passionately. "Mhm... don't want to let you go" he said, hands squeezing your ass. "Get a room" Ferran shouted. "I promise. Tonight" you said, pecking his lips again. Little did he know you will be busy that night, but not in the sexy way.

After the game, in which he scored, you were on your way to his place. "Are you okay? You don't seem that excited after a goal" you asked. You knew something was wrong with him since you kissed him after the game. Usually, he would talk you through the whole game, but now he was surprisingly quiet. "No, sorry, I really am. But..." he said. "I wish my parents were here. And Fer. He didn't even wish me happy birthday" he said and you could cry in that moment, telling him that they were waiting for him at home. "Oh Pedri, I'm sure he will" you said, texting Fer that you were on the way. This man, this man right here made your ovaries explode at how much he cared about his family. "I wish they were at the game too. Together with you. Supporting me. But they said they were too busy to fly here" he said thought greeted teeth. You bit your tongue, not wanting to ruin the surprise, but he was making it hard. Fucking ovaries, slow down. "They said they'll come in the weekend, no?" You asked. "Yeah, but it's not the same thing" he said defeated, parking the car. "Hey... look at me. It's your birthday and they love you, I'm sure they have something for you" you said, pecking his lips. "I hope you're right".

"Sorpresaaaa!!!"

Pedri remained like a statue in the door when he saw his family inside his house. "Don't you think we forgot about your birthday, you fucking idiot!" Fer said, hugging his brother. "You're an idiot" he repeated, fighting his little brother. Pedri then went to hug his parents. "If it wasn't for Y/N..." Fer said, bringing his attention back to you. "It was her idea. All this. And we were her accomplices" Fer grinned. Pedri ran to hug you tightly, whispering just how much he loves you. "I love you too, guapo. Now, let's celebrate" you said as Fer handed you a glass of champagne.

You talked with his mom about the match, then Pedri was curious how they couldn't make it to the game. Their flight got delayed, but you had this brilliant idea to wait for him home. "Wow... my girlfriend is really special, isn't she?" Pedri said, kissing the top of your head. "And now she'll say oh no, I didn't do anything" Ferran said, imitating your voice. "Hey!" You pouted, but still laughed at his joke.

"Hey! Where is the birthday boy?" Ferran asked after you had dinner. The birthday boy was sucking his girlfriend's face in the kitchen. "Tell me they aren't sleeping here" Pedri asked, sucking on your neck. "No. They're staying at Fer. Be patient, Pedri" you said, pushing him away. "I want you, amor" he whispered. "I know. I want to properly wish you a happy birthday too" you said, hugging him. "Ah he's here, where else he could be?" Fer said, seeing your flushed faces. "Slow down, cabron. We'll leave in a minute" Fer said. You bid your goodbyes to his family, promising to have breakfast with them in the city. "If you won't be busy" Fer winked before the left.

"Finally" Pedri said, hungrily kissing you. "Pedri... stop" you said, pushing him away. "What? Did I do something?" He asked panicked. "No, I just want to properly give you my present" you giggled, taking his hand and running to your shared bedroom. "Just wait here and be naked" you winked before disappearing into the bathroom to put on the new set of lingerie you bought special for this occasion. Meanwhile, Pedri undressed himself until his boxers, impatiently waiting for you. "You ready?" You asked from the bathroom. "Yeah..." he replied instantly.

"Fuck baby... I could come in my pants right now" he groaned, as you cat walked to him, pushing him down on the mattress. "What do you like more, Papi?" You asked, pulling his boxers down and eyeing him up and down. "Fuck me" he groaned as you sat on his thigh. "What do you like, Papi?". "Those panties, princess. I can feel you dripping on me" he smirked and you blushed. "Let me make you feel good, papi" you said, kneeling in front of him. "You wanna suck me? Come get it" he smirked as you lowered your lips to brush against his tip. He shuddered as you lips wrapped around him. "Looks so good princess. My cock into your pretty mouth" he said. When he hit the back of your throat, you both let out a moan. "Fuck baby... just like that" he praised, fucking your face. Your nails dug into his thighs, leaving marks behind, but he didn't care. He wanted you to mark him up for everyone to see.

"Let me give you your present Papi" you pouted when he pulled out of your mouth. "Wanna come inside your pussy, baby. Now lay back and relax" he said, dipping his head into your core. "But Papi, it's supposed to be about you tonight" you moaned as he pleasured you with his tongue. "It's also about you, mi amor" he said. "Giving me, hm, let's say, 5 orgasms" he said. "It's too much, Papi" you moaned, already close to the first one. "I know you can. You're my good girl" he said, sucking harshly on your clit, triggering your orgasm. "Fuck Pedri..." you moaned when he pushed a finger inside. "So sweet for me, love" he praised, seeing how you closed your eyes in pleasure when he added another finger into your hole. "F-fuck..." you moaned again, his fingers brushing your G-spot. "Orgasm number 2 incoming" he chuckled as you rode his fingers and came.

"Papi please fuck me" you said as he teased your hole with the tip of his dick. "I'll fuck you so good, baby... you won't be able to walk tomorrow" he said. "Good thing you have the day free" you said as he pushed all the way in. "So tight and warm" he praised, moving a little to test the waters. But after two orgasms, you were more than ready to take him, so he thrusted harder. While he fucked your cunt, he suck on your breasts, pleasuring your hardening nipples while you were a moaning mess. "Orgasm number 3... let go, love" he said and you moaned louder as you came on his dick. He pulled out, waiting for you to regain your breath before flipping you on your stomach. "Pepi... can't" you whined as he helped you on all fours. "I know you can" he said, harshly slapping your ass. "You're my good good girl" he said, plunging himself back into you. You moaned, over sensitive, his dick feeling much deeper as he fucked you from behind. "Papi... fuck..." you moaned as he continued slapping your ass. "Take it like a good girl" he groaned and you could feel his breath on your neck. "You're doing so good for the birthday boy" he praised, pressing a kiss to your ear. "Only for you, Pedri" you moaned, feeling another orgasm coming. "Yes, baby, only I can fuck you like this" he groaned as he felt you clenching again. "Let go when you're ready, love" he whispered. You cried as you came and he spilled himself into you, breathing heavily. He didn't pull out right away and you knew why. You squirted all over him, your wetness dripping down your legs. He finally pulled away, helping you on your back as you were too embarrassed of what just happened. "I'm... I'm sorry" you shuttered, seeing what a mess you made on the bed. "Love, hey... that's the best present you could've given me" he said, pecking your lips. "I'm helping you clean yourself yeah?" He asked and you nodded, him bringing a wet cloth to wipe everything off.

"The best present ever" he said as you laid your head on his chest. "Happy birthday, Pedri. Love you so much" you yawned. "Love you too, baby. You still have to give me one orgasm, so don't forget about that" he chuckled. "Of course, Pepi. But I have to rest, you know" you said, blushing. "I know" he smirked. "Night Pepi" you said, falling asleep on his chest as he played with your hair. "Night, love" he whispered, kissing the top of your head.

— next morning —

"Mhmm Pedri" you moaned as his head was between your legs again. "Pedri!" "What?" He asked. "We had to have breakfast with your parents" you said as he continued pleasuring you with his tongue. "I'm having my breakfast right now" he smirked, licking your wetness. "Fuck... we'll go after this" you moaned. "If you're able to walk, love" he grinned. "Pedri... fuck" you moaned as you came on his face. "And that's the fifth orgasm. You're welcome" he grinned, hugging you. "Te amo, Papi" you whispered. "Still want to go?" He asked. "No" you yawned, cuddling into his chest. "Good. Prepare for a lot of teasing from Ferran" he laughed. "I don't care when I have you" you mumbled. "I know. Me neither. Plus, he's jealous he ain't got a chick in his bed" he joked. "Good thing you have" you replied. "I have a girlfriend and that's even better" he said, pecking your lips.

Hope you like it 🩷

[that-random-outsider]

Alice in Wonderland Glassheart/Bridgella Au

Okay I have ideas for both so hear me out

Bridgella

It's spring break at Merlin Academy which means a week without school, and constant abuse from her family for Ella, whereas for Bridget it means returning home to Wonderland! Only problem is, she doesn't want to leave Ella behind. If her step family was that bad even with the 8 hours at school and constant escapes to Bridget’s dorm, she could only imagine how bad they'd be if Ella was there 24/7. So she offers to take her to Wonderland for the week. It'd be nice to have a friend around, while magical Bridget so often got lonely in her little house of cards.

Ella is hesitant at first, unsure of if she would be a bother to her friend, or even if her family would let her, but agrees the moment Bridget pleads with her. How could she say no after all? Her stepmother allows it reluctantly saying she would take up too much of Anastasia's and Drizella's space if she stayed but said that she had to fend for herself if she wanted to have anything to wear outside of the rags she'd sewn together herself. "If I bought it. I own it. It stays here."

Nonetheless Ella follows through on her promise to Bridget, packing barely enough for a night or two and following Bridget to Wonderland. Of course Bridget had thought of everything clothes, activities, snacks, magic, she wants to show Ella everything there is to love about her home and of course Ella just watches with amusement and wonder. That is at least until something strange starts happening to her. Whenever Bridget asked her about back home or school she can't seem to recall any of it. In fact she starts to forget almost anything outside of her time with Bridget in Wonderland.

Because Ella hadn't been born there being in Wonderland for such an extended time frame had some unseen side affects. She was becoming a part of the place, madness and all. Bridget starts to take notice and once she realizes what was happening she knows that she has to send Ella back home. But she had never seen her friend so happy, so care free. She didn’t want Ella to hurt again. She wanted Ella to stay in the castle with her, where she could be happy all of the time. Where she could give her anything her heart desired, how could she let her friend suffer again after she saw how much that pain truly weighed on her. The longer Ella stays in Wonderland the deeper it's roots start to anchor her there forever and Bridget is the only one who could possibly bring her back to her senses, and the truth is... she's not sure if she wants to.

Glassheart

Kind of inspired by @c-rose2081 phantom of the Oprah au in some ways

Okay so when Chloe was a little girl, around seven, eight years years old she falls down a rabbit hole to Wonderland. She's confused and lost and scared she just wants to get back home, but she doesn't let that stop her. Knights are brave she’d remind herself wondering further and further into the confusing woods trying to settle her tears, but she can't help herself she wants her mom, and she misses her brother and she just wants to go home. That's when Red shows up, having been watching the girl the whole time like her mom told her to.

She'd never met anyone her age before, especially not one from the surface, and like every other person from Wonderland she reveled in her curiosity. She approaches Chloe with interest and begins asking the girl many questions. Why she's crying, what's a Chad, where'd she come from. She asks question after question amusing the scared girl until her tears turn to giggles at her new friend. She tells Red she wants to go home and can't find her way, but Red’s never had a friend before and gets angry because she wants Chloe to stay, so they make a promise. If Red takes her home, next time she returns she'll stay and then they'll be able to play together again for as long as they want.

So Red returns her new friend home dreaming of her eventual return, except it never comes. Years pass by and her mother gets worse but to Chloe that night was nothing more then a hazy memory that no one would believe. "It was just a dream" they'd told her "the Rabit holes' been closed for years" and though she'd convinced herself she'd believed them Chloe knew deep down that it was real. That Red was real.

One day, after a decade of living separate lives Chloe returns to Wonderland, and Red is both hurt because she'd thought Chloe had left her for good and also ecstatic that she had returned. Except, when Red approached her just as she did all those years ago not a trace of recognition had shone on Chloe’s face. She had forgotten about her, about their promise, she lied. Chloe tells Red she has to get home and Red is angered at the sense of de ja vu she got at the statement. Red refuses to help claiming that "this time you're supposed to stay" which only confused Chloe further. She didn’t remember being there before, meeting Red, or making a promise. The memory having long been overwritten by those who called her a lier, or crazy, but the people of Wonderland all seemed to have memories of her before. She felt as if she was going mad, and maybe she was. But who was Red to stop her? She made a promise, and it was time she keep it.

[ghostskiss]

I just done playing cod mw3 and Soap death killed me from the inside, just want to console my mind, I want to see Simon with Soap'ssister!Y/N as lover having each other after the trauma please??? i love your writing and i believe you can ease my heart <3

hey bby! sorry for the late reply, i hope this eases you after some time <3

———

Pain

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Soap's Lil Sis Y/N

WC: 4.3k

Warnings: 18+ ANGST, Trauma bonding, Character Death, Mentions of depression, Grief, Sadness, Blood/Injury TW, Bathing in a tub, Soft!Dom Simon, Massaging/hands all over F! body, Clitplay, crygasm, tbh kind of DDLG-esque ((to me at least)). No DDLG wording used though Tried not to spoil too much on Soap's death for other readers!

note: please take care of yourselves loves. if you relate to Y/N in this, i am so very sorry and it does get better. be patient and kind with yourselves and reach out. people need you as much as you need them and that is a strength. not a weakness.

———

Pain.

Pain is what you've been feeling. Disaster, chaos, sadness. But pain was King in your heart. The deciding factor for many things in your life since your big brother has...

You grip your chest and double over in the kitchen, dropping your coffee mug in the sink. Sucking in a breath, you allow the grief to wash over you in the deadening wave that it is. That's what you've learned over these past couple of months. They come and go in waves, this thing called Grief. It hurts every time. Sometimes at night you wonder if they'll ever go away. If it'll always feel like you're drowning without him here. Your big brother. Johnny.

Even though you're clenching your chest and squeezing your eyes shut as you feel through this pain, you haven't cried lately. It's like you've cried so much the first couple of months that your tear ducts have stopped working. A few more moments pass and you stand up straighter, looking at the broken mug in the sink. You feel nothing now, like you hadn't been in agonizing pain just seconds ago. Enough to have made you drop and break one of your favorite mugs. Awhile ago that would've made you cry. You used to be so raw with emotion after the passing of Johnny. Now nothing seems to get you to except the random waves of grief.

Touching a shard in the sink with mild disinterest, you think about all things you used to do. Things that made you feel something. Anything but this never-ending pressure and weight on your shoulders, like you're carrying it around like a support blanket. Your finger slips on the shard, the ceramic cutting into your pointer finger, blood welling to the surface quickly. Another glance of mild disinterest as you bring your hand up to study the open the wound. It hadn't even hurt. How...odd. The warmth of the red liquid trails down your hand to your wrist, as it slowly leaks from your finger.

The doorbell rings, pulling you out of your morbid trance and you blink, almost in shock from the sound. Some days it feels like you're holed up in world different from others entirely, that no one can get you here. The doorbell rings again and this time your feet seem to be unglued finally. Ripping off a paper towel, you press it to your finger and yell out weakly,

"Coming."

Your voice cracks painfully and you wince. When was the last time you'd spoken out loud? The grip you have on your finger tightens as you glance around your home. Christ, when was the last time you'd cleaned anything? Eaten? When was the last time -

Someone pounds on the front door. You zoned out again in the middle of the front entry way. Trying to blink away your dazed state, you reach for the door, opening it. A breath catches in your throat, staring at the...

Ghost.

Ghost.

The man stares down at you in his own confused state, his dark eyes behind that mask he wears taking in inventory of every little thing. In the past you would've shrunk away from his searching gaze. In the past, you would've felt fear. You would've felt self conscious. You stare up at him and will yourself to feel something, anything.

You realize he'd been talking to you and you blink again, voice croaking, "Sorry? What?"

"Why the hell are you bleeding?" His head nods to your hands.

You glance down confused, had already forgotten what happened moments ago. The blood has seeped through your meager little paper towel and was making a fine mess down your arm again. Detached, you state, "Broke my mug."

Ghost is silent for a moment, watching you watch the blood trickle down even more. He's almost unnerved, seeing you in this state. How long have you been like this? His jaw clenches under his mask and he gently grabs your hand with injured finger, squeezing it to keep the blood from flowing as he redirects you back inside. The fact that you move in zombie-like trance pains him. Something he knows well. Seeing it in you...seeing it in Soap's baby sister. And knowing what you're feeling or you're lack of feeling makes his chest hurt.

In your dissociated and detached state, you move with him as he guides you through your own home from behind you. You don't feel entirely here on this plane of existence. But you know that you trust this man, that he's going to help you with your injured finger. That this was a man that your brother trusted with his life. His life.

That thought snaps you out of it and you inhale sharply, taking in your surroundings like you'd been asleep this whole time. Ghost has since sat you down at the kitchen table, glass of water next to you and some ibuprofen. The water runs in the kitchen sink and you can smell your lavender hand soap. Your head turns to the kitchen, catching Ghost's gaze as he dries his hands off. He stares at you and then nods to the items on the table. Turning back to it, you grab the glass and frown, seeing your already bandaged finger. You drink some water and down the pain killers with it as Ghost comes around and pulls a chair from the table to sit in front of you. He gently grabs your hands into his and holds them, leaning his elbows on his legs.

"How are you?" his voice is quiet, not exactly a whisper, but something above it. It's nice. It's calm. It's familiar, in a way. You think about the last time you'd seen him. When was it? Johnny's funeral. Johnny.

"Hey."

You look up from your joined hands, realizing yet again you'd went away somewhere. Ghost's eyes ping to yours, back and forth, like he's trying to read your mind. Like he's trying to figure out where you're going too. How to keep you here with him. How to keep you present. He leans closer, and you don't even flinch. Like you're in and out of your own consciousness, not aware of anything. His bare hands run up your arms softly and he notes the goosebumps raising as he tickles you. Good. At least you're somewhat aware of that. You blink again, coming back to him from the stimulation. You shiver slightly and Ghost hums, deciding that physical touch is going to work at least for now.

"Why are you here?" you whisper, peering up at him. Your eyes are wide, like he's waking you up out of a dream you'd been stuck in for awhile. This is going to hurt, he realizes. He gently squeezes your shoulders.

"To check in on you. Soap..." his voice dips, "Johnny told me to look after you. I...I'm sorry I haven't been here." He stops at that, not knowing what to say. He doesn't have an excuse. He can't say it was work. Can't say it was anything but his own selfishness, his own pain, his own anguish. He'd lost a brother too.

Something in his voice triggers it in you. Something that starts to slowly swell up inside, like a different kind of pressure. You feel more alert, sharper.

"You're sorry?"

Ghost nods and lets out a slow sigh, his fingers still loosely trailing on your skin. It's starting to irritate you slightly, as you feel his touch awaken your skin. "I don't have an excuse. I made a promise and I couldn't keep it. But I'm here now. I'm here. And if I had known...if I had known you were like this I wouldn't have been... I don't know. Scared. Scared to see you. I was -am- grieving too."

Scared to see you. The man who was the last person with Johnny. The man who had him more than you had him. The man who took your brother away from him. Scared of you. Grieving too. Like he had his brother killed. Killed. Taken away.

Anger. Anger is what this new feeling is. You almost revel in it, almost shuddered with excitement that you're finally, finally feeling something other than the pain. Your heart rate picks up and you almost feel delirious.

"If you hadn't known I was like this?"

Ghost catches the change in your tone and his gaze jerks back up to you in question. You can see his brows dip in confusion as he pulls his hands away from you.

"Honey, look around this place. You...you're not doing okay. I shouldn't have waited this long." He says gently, like you're not aware of how bad you are. Like you have no idea how much you've been in. Like you're not aware at all.

"I know I'm not doing okay, Simon." You spit out behind clenched teeth, "My brother got killed."

Ghost flinches at that, jerking back into his seat as he stares at the ground.

You feel like you conquered something. You feel in control suddenly, prideful that you hurt him with your words. You stand up abruptly, knocking your chair back and Ghost looks up at you with pain in his eyes. You feel high off of that fact. You aren't the only one in pain anymore. You don't have to feel it. You can inflict it.

"You weren't the one who lost your family." Another flinch from the man in front of you, "You weren't the one who had random men show up at your front door step and tell you your brother was killed. You weren't the one who had to go to the funeral and see people who knew him, but not the way that you knew him, people who didn't grow up with him, people who took him away from his real family, people who only worked with him not loved him-"

"I loved him."

Your next words catch in your throat as you gaze down at him in shock.

"What -"

"I said I loved him." Ghost stands up slowly, his hands up like he's approaching a wounded and feral animal. You back up in fear like one anyways. "I loved your brother. I loved Johnny. Johnny loved you. He loved you. He'd always talk about you. He'd show me the letters you'd write him when we'd be shipped out. He'd show me pictures of your family. He'd tell me anything he could about you. He loved you. I know you loved him. And I'm sorry. I'm sorry I wasn't here for you. I'm sorry I couldn't share the things I had with Johnny, but I'm here now and I'm ready. I'm ready to share anything you want to hear, I know we weren't close before this, but your brother was my best friend. He was a brother to me. I know that our pain of losing him is different, but we still lost someone dear to us. Your brother was dear to me. You alone for that are dear to me as well. I will not let you walk through this alone anymore, sweetheart."

Ghost slowly reaches up and brushes your cheeks and that's when you realize you're crying. A sob catches your throat as you throw yourself at the man in front of you, burying your face into his chest as you cry. His arms come around you, keeping you to him, holding you as your body shakes with emotions. It's not only pain now. Nor anger. There's love and relief. Because now someone does finally understand where your heart and head have been since your brother passed.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry Simon I didn't -" you start, staring up at him with tears blurring your vision. He shushes you and shakes his head, thumbing your tears away.

"Allow yourself to feel everything in this. No emotion is wrong. Anger is healthy." He rubs your back as you press your face in his chest again, breathing him in. It feels good, being hugged by a man such as him. After a few moments, Ghost untangles you slowly from him and jerks his head to the stairs. "Let's get you in a bath."

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

You stare down at the bubble bath lit with candles in a bit of anxiety. It looks warm and welcoming. Holding your finger up you stare at the gauze wrapped tightly around it. Strict orders under Lt Ghost was to not remove the bandage, even when you complained you'd had to leave your entire hand out of the bath then.

Startling you into a slight jump, Ghost's voice comes from behind the paper thin bathroom door, "You okay? I don't hear you in the bath."

You gnaw on your bottom lip, "Yeah, I'm uh...thinking."

"Thinking?"

You dip your toe in and shudder in delight. Yeah, that man might not look it, but he runs a good bubble bath. You lower yourself slowly, careful not to get your bandaged finger wet. Your body seems to groan with relief as you settle back into the water, head dipping back to lean on the edge of the tub. A few quiet seconds go by before Ghost is at the door again.

“You okay?”

You nod and then realize he can’t see you. “Yeah.” your voice sounds calm and at peace for once. You look around the dimly lit bathroom, candles on the counter lighting the room just enough. “I just wish I could wash my hair. Or anything really. I can’t get my hand wet.”

You think he’s gone by the lack of reply. Which is fine, you didn’t expect him to sit outside your bathroom door the entire time, even if he said he would. That’d be ridiculous to ask of him —

“I can do it. Wash your hair, I mean.” His voice is so soft from behind the door you think you made it up.

“I—”

He starts up again, this time a tad louder and rushed, like he’s trying to find the right words without offending you, “I won’t look. Obviously. There should be enough bubbles to uh… cover you. Not that I’d look even if there weren’t any. Just. Listen I’ll only help wash your hair. Don’t want you to get your bandage wet.” He pauses for a second. “If you want.”

You think it over while looking down at the bath. He’s right, he wouldn’t be able to see anything. You chew on your lip, thinking it over, probably for too long. Letting a slow sigh to calm your nerves, you nod and call him in. He comes in silently and you tense, feeling his presence fill the room. What are you doing? This is your brother’s…lieutenant. War buddy. Best friend. You’re letting him in the bathroom with you while you’re naked for Christ’s sake.

You turn to catch him rolling up his sleeves, bare hands grabbing the edge of the tub to help lower himself down to his knees. You feel yourself shrink back into the bubbles, glad for the low lighting so he can’t see you blushing. He’s staring at you softly, like he’s watching every tiny reaction you’re having to him. Studying you to see if you’re too uncomfortable. You don’t want him to leave so you sit up a little, moving closer to him. He nods a bit and reaches up to untangle your hair from the pile you placed on top of your head. He sweeps his fingers through your hair and your eyes close, allowing yourself to feel in the moment. Not think it. He grabs your bath cup and dips it in the water, letting the warmth cascade through your hair. Gently, he tips your head back so it doesn’t get in your eyes, his large hands are surprisingly soft as he finishes getting your hair wet enough for shampoo. His fingers massage your scalp with the suds and you groan, leaning into him more.

He chuckles, “You’re acting like a cat.”

“Do you like cats?” you ask, curious. Your eyes are closed and you hum as he rubs your head more.

“Hm. I’d like you if you were a cat.”

“You hardly know me. What if I were a bad cat?”

“No such thing.”

He dumps more water through your hair, rinsing you free of all your past worries and fears. You feel your body relax more and you sigh, sad that this is going to end soon. Your eyes peer open at him and you shiver, now thinking of how you have a man, this large mysterious man bathing you. You’ve known of him, met him a couple of times when Johnny would come home and bring him along. But he never talked much, in fact, you were a little scared of him sometimes. Johnny always joked with him but you swear the man was mute around your family. Seeing him so…intimately under the lighting of your bathroom, his rough but gentle hands on you, washing you and touching you, had your heart clenching and your thighs pressing together under the water. Was that wrong of you? What would your brother think right now? In the beginning it was appropriate enough, but now with these thoughts running rampant, it didn’t feel like an innocent hair washing session. You were suddenly so aware of how naked you were. How the bubbles in the bath were dissipating like they do after some time.

Ghost looks at your bandaged finger, grabbing your hand to pull you closer to him to inspect it. He makes a satisfied sound in seeing that you haven’t gotten it wet.

“Need me to wash you?”

Your throat dries as you stare at him, as he’s casually looking over your hand in his. You think of those very same hands on your body. His fingers caressing you, sudsing you up with your body wash. You’re about to tell him no, to be respectful to him. He’s probably innocently thinking he’s helping you and here you are getting worked up over him just washing your hair.

“I won’t…I won’t—”

“Do anything I don’t want you to?” You finish for him, not sure if that’s what he was even going to say. He nods anyways and catches your gaze to level it, like he’s telling you means it. Not only with his words but his eyes. You nod back and you stare at each other for a moment longer before he’s reaching for the wash. He pours some in the palm of his large hand and you swallow, turning your gaze away from him, the eye contact beginning to have been too much.

His hands connect with your shoulder softly and you close your eyes, tension leaving you quicker than you thought. He leans you forward a bit and gets your back, dipping under the water and coming back up. Your head lulls to the side as he comes back up and sweeps his hand across your collarbones, raising your arm to get your armpit and you giggle, though he seems to be taking his job seriously. He grunts at your reaction and turns your body a bit to get the other side of you.

You shudder, trying not to squirm under his tickling touch. His hands dip under the water to grab one of your legs and you squeal, catching the sides of the tub so you don't tip under. He laughs lightly, lathering up your calves and feet, your toes trying to wiggle out from underneath his grip. It's light and playful until you sit up, completely forgetting the setting that you're in. Ghost's hands drop from you and he sits back abruptly, making you frown and glance down at yourself. Bubbles from the bath are slowly falling from your breasts down your sides and stomach, your nipples tightening from the change in temperature. Ghost's wet hands grip the edge of the bath and you're both frozen, like you're both shocked at what you're witnessing. Heat fills your body and you turn towards him more, hearing the ever so slight hitch in his breath as your nipple grazes his knuckles.

Your uninjured hand grabs one of his and tugs gently, getting him to unglue his fingers from the tub. He watches you move your joined hands towards your chest and he utters your name out in a low warning. You pretend not to hear him as you guide his hand to cup a breast gently.

"You didn't wash me here." You whisper innocently, now looking up at him through your wet lashes. You feel Ghost's fingers spread before lightly gripping you in response. You shiver, pressing more into his touch.

Ghost lets out a noise in the back of his throat, like he's unsure on how to proceed. "We--"

You grab his other hand and do the same thing, the sudden action cutting him off from whatever he was about to say. His eyes drop to your breasts and he swipes a thumb across your nipple before testing the weight of you in his palms. You let out a small sigh, eyelids drooping from the feel of his warm hands on you. He plays with you like that, sweeping, feeling, testing, and washing your tits as you struggle to keep your head up from the pleasure. His fingers trail down to your sternum, even further to your belly button and you're nodding your head, like you're trying to encourage him to keep going.

"You want me to wash you there too, honey?"

You're nodding again, eyes half open while your press as much of yourself into his hands. Practically begging him without saying the words. Ghost hums and he pulls away entirely, standing up to chuck off his sweater that's gotten wet from the bath. Underneath he's got a plain black t-shirt that hugs his broad shoulders and you sit back, taking the large man in as he settles back down.

"Turn around. Lean your back here." He pulls your shoulders against the tub, his hands coming around you. You look down and watch his hands fondle your tits, fingers coming around to pinch your nipples lightly, just giving you enough pressure to gasp. His head settles in the crook of your shoulder, material of the mask brushing against your neck lightly, tickling you. He turns and whispers darkly in your ear while one hand trails down the front of your body, other gripping your chest.

"Let yourself feel. Stay with me."

Your eyes drift shut as his fingers go lower and lower until you're raising your hips to catch his finger tips into your sex. He chuckles airlessly, pressing into your aching clit. "Right here, baby?" You nod again frantically, whining out as he starts pressing slow circles. Your clit throbs as his fingers catch it, rolling it and playing with it as you gasp out. "Keep that bandage dry." The tone he delivers that in has an underlining connotation of a threat. An or else.

It makes your breath hitch and your head lull back, hitting his shoulder as he leans into you from behind the tub, his fingers playing slowly, exploring you. His other hand cups and plays with your breasts and he hums with curiosity when he finds the right spot, the right pressure. You don’t need to tell him, he can tell by the way you tense and then melt into him, almost like you’re fighting against the pleasure he’s giving you. His cock strains hard against his jeans and he curses himself about the morals and lines you two are crossing, yet he can’t find it in himself to care. In the throes of your pleasure as you cry out louder, your hands that were on the tub’s edge start to slip and the masked man tsks at you.

“Hands out of the water.”

You whimper and place them back on the edge, gripping and holding so you don’t entirely submerge yourself in the water containing you. Ghost picks up the pace of his fingers circling your clit and you moan out, hips bucking up. You’re close.

“Ghost,” you gasp, not sure what you’re about to say or beg or plead for.

“That’s it. Let go. Let go.” his voice is coaxing, like he’s gently leading you, not demanding you. Nurturing you, taking care of you. Your body responds like it was a command, toes curling, head falling backwards, breath catching and then crescendoing as your legs tense up, capturing Ghost’s ever moving hand to your pussy as you come. It’s breathtaking and blinding, and by the time you come back to reality, you’re gasping for air like you finished running.

Ghost lets you gather your bearings before he’s slowly untangling himself from you, rinsing the rest of your body off. He helps you stand on your wobbly legs, pulling you up and put of the tub with ease. A warm large towel comes around you and he dries you off thoroughly before wrapping it around your body and pulling you into him. He rests his cheek on top of your head, rubbing your back in the embrace. You can feel yourself crying, though you’re not sad. You blink away the tears as Ghost holds you.

“Let’s get you in bed sweetheart.”

He transitions you into your bed, and you reach out for him with watery eyes. He sighs a bit, but kicks off his boots and clambers into the bed after you, somehow just knowing this entire time what you need. The bandage, the bath, the feeling of something other than the pain in your heart. He pulls you into him, keeping you wrapped in the covers and he softly kisses your forehead through his mask. Your eyelids droop. Even though you’ll never get your brother back, and Ghost will never get his back, you’re here together. Going through it together. You were never really alone, even with how bad it hurt and how much you thought otherwise. It didn’t hurt right now, but it may in the future and that’s okay. You had time. You’re going to take it one step at a time.

“I’m right here baby. You’re okay.”

And you knew he was right.

[steddieas-shegoes]

uh. what?

for @steddielovemonth prompt 'love is healing wounds'

rated m | 1,782 words | cw: injury recovery, mild blood, recreational drug use | tags: post s4, hurt/comfort, getting together, fade to black

💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

The stitches pulled and he couldn't get comfortable. He almost wished Robin hadn't made him get checked over, but anything that required this many stitches probably would've killed him if he hadn't. At least that's what Nancy said when he complained to her about it.

But now, Steve couldn't sleep, and sleep was apparently very important for healing.

The alarm clock next to his bed said 2:07 am, so calling someone was out. Going somewhere was also out, unless he wanted to go to the 24 hour diner alone.

Fresh air sounded good until he realized he'd have to either go for a walk in the middle of the night alone or sit by the pool alone.

He didn't want to be alone.

His phone started to ring just when he was considering taking a shower out of boredom.

"Harrington residence, this is Steve."

"So formal for two in the morning, Stevie," Eddie's laugh rang through the line and Steve couldn't help smiling. Something about Eddie's energy was contagious, a beacon of light when all he had was the darkness of his room.

"Didn't know if it was an international business partner for my parents. Happens sometimes when they forget time zones." Steve moved to the edge of his bed so the cord didn't have to stretch as far. "What are you doing up?"

"Had a dream about being eaten alive again. This time they managed to eat both of my nipples." Eddie scoffed. "Isn't one enough?"

Steve chuckled. "And you can't go back to sleep because you're scared they'll come take your other nipple?"

"It's a genuine concern, Steve! I have big dreams of piercing this thing and if they take it from me, what do I have left?"

"I think you'd probably just find something else to pierce," Steve shook thoughts of what that might be out of his head before they could take over. "So you can't sleep. You thought you'd call and wake me up to suffer with you?"

Eddie was silent for a moment before responding. "Did I wake you up?"

"No," Steve said quickly, not wanting Eddie to feel bad. "I was awake."

"Nightmare?"

"No, stitches are bothering me."

"You wanna come over? I found my hidden stash. Might help with the stitches," Eddie offered.

Steve probably shouldn't. He was on some pain meds already and if he got too fucked up, he'd probably cry. That's what happened last time he had some of whatever Eddie was selling.

"I'll come over, but probably shouldn't have anything. Robin would kill me if I end up in the hospital," Steve gave a half-truth.

"Yeah, she's terrifying. I'll leave the door unlocked."

Before Steve could tell him that was a bad idea, he hung up.

********

When Steve got to Eddie's, he let out the breath he'd been holding the entire drive. Eddie was sitting on the porch, alone, his guitar by his side.

Maybe he'd been playing already, or maybe he planned to play to help distract Steve from the way his skin felt like it was too much.

He got out of the car and waved when Eddie looked over at him with a smile.

"Didn't think you'd get here so quick," Eddie didn't bother standing up, Steve just knew to go sit by him.

But the steps on the Munson's porch were rickety at best, "temporary" according to the government officials who had stuck them here because they didn't think it was worth putting them in a home across town, and Steve's eyes hadn't quite adjusted to the dull glow of the light by the front door. He missed the top step and immediately fell, barely catching himself on the wood of the porch.

Eddie was helping him up immediately, doing his best not to make his own injuries worse.

"Shit, you okay? Wayne tried fixing it, but it just keeps getting loose."

Steve felt a stinging pain on his side, and when his hand grazed over the worst of his bites, he felt something warm and wet on his fingers.

"Shit," without looking, he knew he'd torn his stitches. "Eddie, I need a towel or something."

"Shit, that's a lot of blood. That's a lot of blood. It shouldn't be that much, right? Like even tearing your stitches, it shouldn't be-"

"Eddie." Steve poked his arm, stayed as calm as he could. He bled easy, so sometimes even small things looked worse than they were. "Towel."

"Right, yeah. Should you come with me?" Eddie shook his head. "I mean can you move? Should you stay here?"

"I'll sit here until I have a towel. Don't wanna get blood on the carpet."

"Got it."

Eddie still seemed unsure about leaving him, but must have noticed how much blood was soaking through Steve's shirt and rushed inside. He was back in less than a minute, a black towel in his hand.

"It's clean. It's the one I usually use for my hair, but I didn't get to fold it from the dryer yet. Um, just put pressure on it."

Steve knew what to do, was used to putting pressure on wounds, but appreciated Eddie trying to triage it anyway.

"You got a needle and thread, right?" Steve asked once he took his shirt off and put pressure on the bite. It was already bleeding much less, a positive sign that maybe it wouldn't be too bad.

"I mean, I do. I don't have medical tools that have been sanitized properly."

"You have water to boil and vodka?"

"Steve. I'm not fucking performing a medical procedure on your stomach," Eddie shook his head. "Do you have a death wish or something?"

"I trust you."

The words hung heavy between them, despite the fact it wasn't exactly news to either of them. They'd been through it all together, why wouldn't he trust him?

"Okay, let's get inside and I'll get everything ready."

Getting inside was easier said than done. The bleeding had mostly stopped, but the pain had really started to set in and every breath felt like knives stabbing into him.

"Deep breath, Stevie," Eddie said as he sat him down on the couch and helped him lay back. "I'll get you something for the pain."

"Something" was an edible, and Eddie seemed hesitant to give it to him, but all reservations Steve previously had went out the window as he felt his hands shaking from the pain.

Eddie prepared everything while the edible kicked in, checking in with Steve every few minutes to make sure he hadn't passed out or started bleeding again.

When the room started to feel blurry and his head felt light, Steve smiled over at Eddie, who looked nervous.

"Ready for your magic hands," Steve wiggled his brows.

Eddie made a strangled sound before leaning over the wound and wiping some of the blood away gently so he could see where to stitch him back up.

He worked as quickly as possible, humming softly to distract himself and Steve from what was happening.

Steve was high.

He was high and he was feeling good despite the needle in his skin.

He drifted for a bit, couldn't be sure how long, but eventually, Eddie was touching his cheek and making him open his eyes.

"Think you should stand up so I can wrap a bandage on it. Then you can try to shower off some of the blood if you want. Wayne got one of those removable showerheads. Feels fancy," Eddie said as he moved the hair off of Steve's face.

"Help?" Steve managed to ask.

"Yeah, I can help you with the wrap and start the shower for you," Eddie nodded.

"In the shower?" Steve asked.

Eddie paused. "I can keep us dressed?"

"But." Steve huffed. "Blood."

Eddie couldn't help but laugh at his confusion, Steve's lips pouting out and his eyes squinting. "Okay, okay. If you're okay with it, I'm okay with it. You're high as shit, man."

"I'm standing right on the ground," Steve waved his arms around him. "Or is the ground standing on me but the other way?"

"God, this is the best. Okay, let's go."

"Wait!" Steve grabbed Eddie's arms. "You should know something."

Eddie raised his brows in question. "Go on."

"I'm very in love with you. And also kinda hard."

Eddie blinked, not processing. Now he felt high.

"Uh. What?"

"I have an erection." Steve made a disgusted face. "Hate that word. Sounds so middle school sex ed."

"It is." Eddie shook his head. "I guess I meant more like, how and why and what the hell do you mean by it."

Steve giggled. "I said you had magic hands and I was right."

"Dude, I was literally giving you stitches. I am failing to see why that would make you hard."

"It's cuz you're so gentle and your tongue sticks out when you're trying to focus. And also I started thinking about what you'd do if I couldn't move," Steve sighed dreamily. "You have handcuffs."

"Okay. Let's pause." Eddie let out a small hysterical laugh. "You want me to help you in the shower because you love me? Do you even need help?"

"Probably. But I also want help. And also you're a helper for me."

"What does that even mean? Where's Robin when you need her to decode what the hell you're talking about?"

"You're a helper for me! Because you help me be better about asking for help! And then you help!"

"Okay, that's. Good. I'm still not sure what's happening."

"You're gonna help me shower. I'm gonna try very hard not to come. We sleep?" Steve looked around Eddie out the window, like he was checking if it was still night time. "And then in the morning I wake up and get yelled at by Robin."

"Why would she-"

"The stitches. And the telling you I love you thing. She's gonna be real mad about that."

"Why?" Eddie felt like he was losing it. What was even happening anymore? How had he completely lost control of the night?

"She wanted to help me do a speech thing."

This was just getting more wild.

Steve needed a shower, and he needed sleep. Eddie needed a minute to gather his own thoughts.

"Shower. Sleep. Talk in the morning." Eddie raised his hand to cup Steve's neck. "Robin murders you after we talk."

"Deal." Steve's face sank, but he quickly perked back up. "But shower?"

"Yes, shower. Go, horndog."

Steve laughed as he half-limped to the bathroom, clearly feeling some pain even with the drugs in his system. Eddie followed and resisted touching Steve as much as possible.

Which ended up being about two minutes.

[yandere-daydreams]

Feel free to ignore this! I'm just v sleep deprived and having brain rot inspired by some things I saw in ur writing and thought it may be up ur alley. Also this brainrot thingy is mainly aimed at readers who have the ability to get pregnant so if that don't sit right with you feel free to ignore it or change aspects of it!

Hear me out right. A mix of the sex doll au and hybrid au (either fox or husky) for childe. But like in the doll au how he replaces components as a form of trying to live out the dad fantasy? Yeah that but in the hybrid au. Like reader is trying to rehabilitate this poor little baby fox kit/husky puppy that's really sickly and was abandoned. Childe basically looks at the reader playing nurse/mommy for this poor thing almost 24/7 (his attention is being deprived lol) and goes "oh yeah that little one is ours duh". He starts exhibiting protective dad behavior while simultaneously being like "look at how good of a job I can do".

Follow up to that the pup/kit either gets better and can be handed off to another conservationist who has other young hybrids and would do a better job at caring for them in a group environment with other hybrid kiddos so there's less of a risk of em becoming too domesticated. And reader is supper bummed out about it for a while bc all their attention was zoned in on this one really precious little one and now they've moved onto bigger pastures 🥲. Meanwhile childe sees this and is like "oh now I can both console my mate in their grief, I've proven I'm a capable partner, I can totally help them make new little ones!"

Take all of that inspo/brainstorming as u will. Also if you consider people submitting ideas as commissions I apologize for misunderstanding! Did not intend to overstep 🙇‍♀️

tw - implied violence, child neglect/abandonment, and obsessive behavior.

fjdkljdfksdj i think this would probably be more plausible with husky!childe, but something about this scenario with fox!childe is just,,,

it'd just be so sweet to watch him dote over the tiny, terrified kit one of your friends found shivering in a snowbank. you really aren't qualified to take care of such a young hybrid, but while you scramble to get a hold of a more experienced volunteer, childe picks up the slack. despite being old enough to walk, the poor thing barely leaves his arms. he handles their near-hourly feedings, modifies the ill-fitting clothes you pull out of storage to accommodate their tail and hind legs, even lets them crawl between you and him at night and violate his cardinal rule (no one else gets to so much as touch your bed except for him - an unspoken law that's resulted in more than a few bitten hands and bleeding guests). he does his best to put a dent in their never-ending energy, and when it's time for you to take over, he's never more than a few feet away, wagging his tail as you take the kit's temperature and try to convince them to swallow a few drops of medicine. and, when you finally contact a volunteer with a small shelter and a pack of orphaned kits, childe seems as happy as you are, rubbing his cheek against theirs as he tells them that they'll be home soon enough. it's sweet, even if fox-hybrid dynamics are, admittedly, a little lost on you. honestly, you're just relieved you'll be able to sleep through the night again.

at least, you're relieved until you get back from work the next day, until you find your door unlocked and your apartment wrecked, furniture overturned and rust-colored stains soaked into your carpeting. you find childe on the foot of your bed, bouncing a crying kit in his lap and gushing them quietly, but he doesn't look concerned. if anything, his posture is slack, the smile written across his face nothing short of ecstatic. he looks calm. he looks happy.

he looks like someone who only just found his way home.

[alittledizzy]

Do you have any advice for going to your first DnP tour?

My biggest advice is that it's more fun than friends, so try to find other people that are going! Dan and Phil are really great at fostering community. Having people to hang out with beforehand, and debrief with after - it can honestly make or break it. Everything just feels more vibrant and more fun when you're with other fans.

For the show itself: there will be lines but they're not usually too bad, save the merch one, so if you have a ticket that lets you have access to merch early - do it.

If you're older, you'll feel old, but that's fine. At least this time there's less likely to be cat whiskers and people shrieking don't cry, craft as they actually cry, so you'll stand out less. This is also where just knowing your people and attending it with them comes in very useful. If you're anywhere from 15 to 25, you'll honestly be fine, like this is your demographic.

If you have a meet and greet ticket, enjoy it but don't let it define your experience. Keep everything in perspective and even if it feels rushed or there's no personal connection, you won't feel bad. If you want to tell them something meaningful, keep it appropriate. Thank them, but don't trauma dump - that just gives them the responsibility of processing something traumatic from a total stranger in 90 seconds. If you do want to explain more, that's what letters are for - but still keep in mind that you're a stranger to them. Gratitude can exist by itself and they'll still understand without needing to know the backstory.

If you want to give them a gift, remember they can't take most things with them. There's a good chance that most of the gifts just get dispersed amongst the crew or left at the venue. Don't give them anything so sentimental to you that it would hurt you to envision that.

If you do stage door, it can also be a fun way to get that 'debrief' with other fans - but also keep in mind they aren't obligated to do that and don't get upset if you wait forever and security ends up a little testy with you. Some places are cool about it, some places aren't, and you may go home without seeing them. Do it for the experience and not just the end result.

Besides that... honestly, have fun. Just like all good shows, the vibes are gonna be electric and immaculate. As long as your expectations aren't sky high, you'll have fun!

[incorrect-trolls-imagines]

Hi! How was your day? Good,i hope?

Anyways,I found your account recently and I really liked your partner squad AU! It's so wholesome and funny 😭 And I love Polyamorous relationships (i guess that's what it is?)

Here's a little headcanon (?) request for them,because I read the 'loosing colors' HC and I think that was just my favorite thing out of the partner squad thingies-

Honestly,I just want some hurt/comfort. I like crying (/j)

I give total freedom to you about what angst it is,but if you want,or are out of ideas,here are some:

-Reader comes back home after being harassed (not s3xually,maybe just about the way they act? Maybe they just stick out a lot and some people don't like it??? Some people are bullies man..)

-Overworked reader (Maybe breaking down??)

-Socially anxious reader?

-the reader fainting suddenly??

Something like that! Anyways,I hope this isn't too vague of a description,and that you have a fantastic day!!

-Nina/Weewoo

HII HELLO!!! THANKS FOR THE REQUEST AND I HOPE YOU'RE HAVING A NICE DAY TOO!!! AND I'M GONNA DO ALL OF THEM IDEAS YOU SENT CUZ I'M A SUCKERRRR FOR ✨A N G S T✨

okey dokey folks! we've gots some ✨A N G S T✨ to go through so it's-a time to get-a cooking!

Here's the Loosing Colors post btw and I'm gonna use that one just for this first scenario (omg. a sequel, yes!)

💙♥️🖤Partner Squad Reacting to Gray!Reader getting harassed💙♥️🖤

💞 As a whole 💞

💞 Oh, they pissed. As soon as they find out that you've been having trouble with some inconsiderate trolls being nasty to you for having lost your colors, you can bet they're practically up in arms and very eager to have a talk with those bullies.

💞 (You're mortified and somehow manage to convince them to Not Do Anything To Harsh for your sake, though.)

💞 Lots of reassurance!

💞 Your partners won't allow you to sulk or dwell too much in the whole ordeal and they'll make a combined effort to always lift your spirits up whenever you start to believe the rude and flat out unnecessary things the bullies said to you.

♥️ Barb ♥️

♥️ She's easily the most outraged out of the lot. She hates bullies (kinda ironic, yeah, but you get the idea.).

♥️ Particularly, she hates bullies that joke and tease about such sensitive topics as losing your colors. Because, c'mon, that's just straight up professional huge a-hole behavior.

♥️ Whenever she wants to help you feel more comfortable with your situation, she'll take your hands in hers and raise them to your eye level, as if wanting you to take a good look of your laced fingers.

♥️ “Y’see? I'm sorta gray too, if you think about it. But I think you rock those grays way better than me, babe.” (She's intentionally corny to get a smile out of you and it works every time.)

♥️ She tries to get back at the bullies, but she's always too obvious and you never let her have the payback she's so adamant you deserve.

🩵 Branch 🩵

🩵 He can relate.

🩵 Oh, he can relate a lot. He grew up gray and, man, can trolls be cruel even if they seem to be all sunshine and rainbows. Not to say ‘he’s had it worse’ when he was younger, no, he's not the type to downplay a situation like this, ever, but he's definitely the best candidate to help you go through this ordeal because of his past.

🩵 Lot's of open-heart talks, venting, hugs and, yes, lots of tears from both sides as well (just don't go around telling everyone, please).

🩵 He's still devastated that something as awful as losing one's colors could ever happen to you but he can't mope about it forever (never in front of you, at least); he remains strong for your sake.

🩵 He also tries to ‘avenge’ you in whatever way he can, almost begging you to let him at least do something to deal with the ones that bothered you, anything, but you never give in and eventually he gives up (very reluctantly).

🧡 Hickory 🧡

🧡 Now, Hickory over here, he's actually the only one that manages to evade your suspicions and he flat out threatens the trolls that harassed you to buck off (in an eerily peaceful and very cowboy-ish manner, might I add).

🧡 After that, you don't ever get bothered again and Hickory lets you believe that those trolls simply had a change of heart.

🧡 His way of helping you go through this hardship is not by ignoring the issue, but he just rather not mention the obvious unless it's absolutely necessary.

🧡 It's not like he's in love with you for your colors or whatever, but he does care deeply for your mood and feelings. He just wants you to be happy, y'know?

🧡 When the time comes that your colors gradually start to show up again, he just smiles and he'll go out of his way to always remind you of how beautiful those shades and tones look on you even if they're still a bit dim.

🩷 Poppy 🩷

🩷 She's frustrated, very, very much so. Why and how can other trolls be so mean and nasty???? Like Why?

🩷 After finding out about the way you were harassed, she gets clingy. She gets clingy because now she doesn't want to leave you all on your own, exposed to more mistreatment.

🩷 Just like Branch, she's familiar with the subject of color loss and she doesn't take it lightly for a second.

🩷 You could even say it's a bit of some sort of guilt she feels about the way Branch used to be treated in the past that she's now worried 24/7 about you.

🩷 She refuses to allow anyone even think about ostracizing you; she'll go feral if she ever catches someone even batting an eye at your lack of vibrant colors, let alone comment anything on the matter in a negative way.

💚 Tresillo 💚

💚 He's still not entirely used to seeing you without those lovely colors of yours and he's not shy to admit out loud that he misses them.

💚 But he doesn't do that to make you feel bad, or inadequate or guilty on any level; he's just honest like that, and he hopes for the day that your beautiful colors return.

💚 Then, and only then, he'll know you're really and truly okay. And if you're happy, he's happy.

💚 Like Poppy, he gets overprotective and almost overbearing just so he can keep an eye over you so no one else dares bother you in the slightest about your color loss.

💚 He won't threaten anyone like Hickory did, but he will glare and give the worst of stink eyes at whoever steps out of line in his presence, and man, he can look kinda scary when he's serious like that.

💙 Trollex 💙

💙 Like mentioned before, Trollex once lost his colors too after the passing of his parents, but that particular experience he has on the subject is what gives him the reassurance he needs that you can get better, just like he did and just like Branch did as well.

💙 The thought of someone bullying you for your situation makes his blood boil but he's more concerned on how you feel and what you think.

💙 Forget those bullies, they don't matter now. Now it's all about you and how you feel and what you need.

💙 He becomes a bit of a mother hen, always asking about your mood and hoping that one of these days, your bright colors will shine bright once again.

💙 He's a great listener, so if you need a shoulder to cry on or just vent, he'll always be there, ready to give you advice and make sure you always leave with a huge smile on your face.

[green-eyedfirework]

Dick is shivering, Damian is crying piteously, they're surrounded by warriors that would give Dick a serious run for his money even if he wasn't months out of shape, and the only good thing is that they're out of Ra's' hands.

The one in charge, a man with silver hair and only one eye and a dangerous presence despite his apparent age, barks out something in a language Dick doesn't understand, and Dick's cloak is unceremoniously divested from him.

"Wait," Dick manages to say after a full two beats, they're ushering him deeper inside the long hall and he can't resist—the hall is warm and the cloak was wet and cold and heavy. He can't quite remember what he's complaining about.

He's stopped at a threshold and someone bends down to tug at the laces of his boots—which, now that he looks, no one else is wearing. He allows them to pull the sodden, muddy boots off with a muttered sorry, and hide the wince as they limp after the others, blisters painfully sore.

Damian hasn't stopped crying, and Dick shifts him in his arms, biting his lip at the tremble. He's—exhausted, hungry and weak and tired, and he wants so desperately for this to be a safe place.

It seems like one, warm and cozy, with the sounds of laughter echoing from deeper in. Dick is led to a side chamber lined with furs and has to bite back the moan at the softness on his aching soles. Most of his escort leaves, and Dick desperately wishes they'll let him stay.

He is in no shape to go back out, not in the snow, not in the storm. And especially not with Damian.

Damian is still crying, thin and weak, and Dick peeks at the two guards left with him before turning to give them his back. His shirt is a little more complicated to wrangle, but he manages to slip it off one arm to bare a breast. Damian latches on near instantly and Dick lets out a slow breath at the ache.

His baby isn't going to go hungry. Ra's' sneers still echo in his head, the patronizing way he pronounced Dick an unfit parent while Dick begged to see his child, please, just once, and figuring out motherhood with Damian on the run has been a trial of failures.

At least he's feeding now. Dick shifts on his feet, faintly dizzy, and hopes that they let him rest for the night. He'll have to pay for a stay here somehow, but he's exhausted and he just wants sleep.

Dick isn't expecting the others to return so suddenly.  He spins around, startled, at the sudden bang of the door, and everything inside of him goes cold at the narrow-eyed expression on the leader's face.

He snarls something, and his warriors head for Dick. Dick tries to back up a step but there's nowhere to go, he's surrounded with at least three people between him and the door.

"Wait," Dick says, high-pitched, "wait, please—"

Dick isn't expecting the hands tugging at his shirt. His mind goes blank for a yawning eternity and by the time he recovers, his pants are being pulled down.

"No," Dick croaks out, tears hot and prickling, "No."

It's not that it doesn't make sense. Ra's is not the only one who demands the privileges of power and Dick knows nothing about the people who let him stagger inside their home. He cannot afford to be kicked out, to fight back, to disagree, but he still says, "no," when they pull the rest of his clothes off.

At least they aren't taking Damian from him.

Dick is freezing, cold that's gone beyond pain and into numbness and the silver-haired leader meets his gaze with a forbidding expression. He says something harsh and guttural.

Heavy hands land on Dick's shoulders and push and Dick's legs give out as he's manhandled to his knees.

Damian is busy drinking, unknowing and uncaring of what's happening above him.

He keeps his gaze fixed down, on the soft fur, and not on the incomprehensible conversation above him. He—he needs to figure this out, he knows, he can't just keep holding Damian while—while they—but he's not willing to let his baby out of his sight—

Dick is startled again by the brush of something soft against his skin. It feels like a blanket, heavy and warm, and Dick looks up in confusion as someone kneels next to him, efficiently concealing his nakedness and chilled skin while not disturbing Damian.

They smile at Dick and say something. The words sound harsh but their tone is not, and Dick can't quite believe the softness of the blanket against his skin.

[noowayybroo]

I saw you wanted to write something about this and ykw I’d love to see it!! Could you write some headcanons (or whatever your comfy w) abt calling leon/showing up late at his house after you got into a bad fight w ur abusive bf? Im thinking mainly he comforts you nd then deals w the bf later

TY FOR UR ASK AND IM SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG!! ok sooooo it's not like a full fic but it's a teeny bit more than a hc. I won't focus sm on the bf because I think it's a traumatic thing you know and people who might use this to cope might find it harder to relate or they might just be reminded of their issues so I'll keep it quite vague if it's ok with you. This is very vague so I think it's any Leon in mind! Enjoy!

Characters: GN!BestFriend!Leon x GN!Reader (Mentions of Reader's abusive partner)

Warnings: SFW BUT NOT A HAPPY FIC - Hurt / comfort. Mentions of abusive and just overall shitty partners. Mentions of Crying. One mention of being drunk. Mentions of abuse and victim self-blaming (the relationship really messed you up, sorry) Use of Y/N

Another horrible date ends with you storming out of what's meant to be your favourite restaurant, blaming yourself for everything you'll never be responsible for.

Your partner has a way of doing that: making you think it's you who's in the wrong, regardless of the fact that they were the one who was late and they were the one who wouldn't get off their phone and pay you back the attention you give them every day.

Again you'd been let down, and you stumble home in the rain, alone, because your excuse of a partner was staying behind to finish their meal. Your clothes are as drenched as your soul, heavy rain just about heard over pitiful sobs. You're in a world of your own, narrowly avoiding a trip or fall with each step, eyes too squinted to see more than a blur.

You're crying so hard you almost don't hear your phone buzz in your pocket.

It'll be that bastard, you think to yourself as rage seeps into your bubble of despair. What could they want now?

You've half the mind to ignore it. They're not used to you not answering instantly. They know they have you wrapped around their finger. Maybe they'll think something happened to you. And it'll be their fault.

Great.

..But then again, you don't really want that, do you? You're a good person. They've wormed their way into your head so well that you begin to feel guilty. You have to at least check... Maybe they're sorry-

Begrudgingly, almost ready to snap the phone in two the second you see that dreaded name, you pull it out to check. You're so numb you barely mind how the rain soaks the expensive screen in mere seconds. All you can bother to do is haphazardly wipe the screen across your clothing once before swiping your notifications down.

Between the gathering droplets, the message is, of course, not from your dickhead "soulmate" because really, they don't care about you. It's from Leon, your friend. And for a second, a smile almost comes to your lips. You slow down your pace and read the message, not noticing how your tears are already much less frequent. Leon's always been a sweetie. He's always there for you, and when he says he's got your back, oh boy do you believe it.

Leon never asks anything from you, he just loves you unconditionally... and you're sure it's just as platonic as you'd like it to be. He knows you care about him too, and he'd never give you any less than you give him. It must have been some kind of divine intervention that called upon him to message you now during one of your lowest moments. Or-

PLEASE don't tell me that was YOU crying outside just now.

Your jaw falls open in shock and your feet come to a still. You'd been steaming ahead on pure misery. You were on Leon's street already? Looking around confirms your suspicions as you wipe your screen again, shakily replying as tears continue to stain your cheeks. But before you can hit send, another message comes in:

THAT IS YOU OMG. Why the yelling?! Drunk again??

Just as you can finish typing out "Yeh, it was me, I'm going homes sorryyy", Leon comes bounding after you in the rain. He slows down as he gets to you, circling around to get a look at your face before draping his coat over your shoulders. He's smiling initially, glad to see you, but when his eyes meet your red, puffy ones, his face falls. His shoes are loose. One of his heels not even properly inside. He's wet from the rain, not even wearing a coat for himself. That's how quickly he left for you.

"Y-y/n..." His voice is small, dreading as he gently holds your shoulders, ducking to look into your downturned eyes "What happened?" Before you can even answer, his arms are around you, redirecting you towards his house and out of the rain. He practically pulls you along, trying to get you to shelter like a lifeguard escorting someone from the depths. You have no time to tell him anything before he's yanking you into his home.

Despite how wet and filthy you are from the hammering rain and muddy puddles, Leon barely lets you take any outside gear off. He leads you to his living-room - the sight both familiar and warming. You'd both shared many good memories here even though you hadn't been round many times. If Leon knew anything, it was how to take care of you and make you laugh. And that's why, no questions asked, he's covering you in blankets, holding you close and cooing gently about how you don't have to tell him what happened but that-

"If you want to tell me anything, I don't care what it is or how much there is, I'll listen."

After a while, you're able to come down from your panic. You're able to open up and tell Leon what happened this time. You can practically see his fists ball as he grips the blanket, pretending to only do so to pick it up and wrap it more tightly around you. He avoids eye contact. At times, it feels as though the news of your neglect affects Leon much worse than it does you.

He swallows thickly as you continue, and only when your voice cracks a little and you become teary once more does his gaze snap to you. He places a gentle hand on your cheek and once more ducks his head so he can be the one looking up at you. He respects the reason for your shy and defeated posture, not wanting to look up at him. He wouldn't have you go out of your way just to suit him. He's practically cuddled up to you, hands gently kneading you wherever it comforts you most through your blanket prison.

His eyes scream empathy and sorrow for your situation. The grimace of a scowl on his face tells you he's thinking about something, but you're not sure what. Maybe he's had a bad day. Maybe you're burdening him.

Here comes the guilt train again.

Your words falter and then you shake your head, sighing sadly. At least your tears are dry now.

"It's really nothing" You tell him, capping off a list of about a month's abuse and neglect since you'd last seen Leon. He shakes his head, almost offended.

"It's not nothing, Y/N, it's everything." His voice switches from a growl to a whisper after he catches himself on the first few words. He goes back to gently holding and petting you, sighing as he thinks very carefully about his next words. "You're a wonderful person. You're a good friend. I know you're the perfect soulmate too..." his face goes a little red. It seems he didn't think carefully enough about those words. "That sounded a little weird but what I mean is you can do better. Much better."

'Nails on a chalkboard' couldn't even come close to describing how Leon felt whenever you'd speak about how your partner treated you. For months now, it felt like within a few words, just describing your morning or text chat with the prick sent Leon to his own circle of hell.

It was tormentuous. Of course, it wasn't you. It could never be you. You were Leon's best friend. Hearing you open up to him was bitter sweet. He was grateful you were able to, but seeing you being weighed down and trodden over like this, it hurt him. You needed to leave that person, and so, Leon needed you to leave them.

He'd never told you really how he'd felt about that particular detail. He never wanted to be the bad guy, or to tell you what to do, in case it might draw you closer to your partner. Today, though, he couldn't take it any more. He wouldn't watch you suffer. Leon was going to do something about it, even if you didn't. Heck, he'd do it, even if you did first.

"You give this person everything. All your time, all your love, and I don't mean to rub it in at all, but to be honest... I want you to leave them. For yourself. You're strong and you might not need it, which is why you keep letting them do this, but you deserve someone who cares about you. Who wants you." He's looking into your eyes again, pleading for you to understand. He's begging you to just listen, just this once. Otherwise, you both know he'd let you walk all over him.

Truth be told, it didn't actually surprise you that Leon wanted you to leave your partner. You'd be lying if you'd said the realisation didn't gnaw away at you each time you looked into those eyes of his. You wanted to make Leon happy, and, contrary to his fears, you knew he was right. You'd take his side over any of your partners in a heartbeat, probably. You wanted to leave your partner, especially now those sobering words of Leon's had hit you. It was a rallying cry to stand up for yourself, and you so badly wanted to do it, but...

"It's hard." You whimper, shying away, hiding your face from Leon. Unlike your partner, he doesn't become enraged at your refusal, he doesn't lean in to catch your gaze or force you to look at him. He just stays quit for a bit before gently hushing you.

"I know, I know" He hums, barely audible - his words are so soft and quiet, fanning you. "I know it's hard." There's heavy truth to his words. Leon has always understood you, and he's been through so much, you know you're preaching to a harrowed choir.

"We've been together for months... I've never had anyone like that before. I can't just..."

"It's okay to be alone, you know?" Leon asks softly "I know that might be worrying you too... Not finding someone? But I promise you... I'll never lie about how lovely you are. Hell if you just turned around you'd see a line of people waitin'." There's a desperate tone to his voice. He needs you to believe him. But it also kinda sounds like there IS a line of people swarming his home. It makes you giggle, and that makes him chuckle.

"You know I'm being honest, right? I mean I might even-" He cuts himself off quickly and looks away. There's a small silence before he looks back at you, gently wiping calloused thumbs over your cheeks, brushing away any remaining moisture. Then, he sighs deeply "Listen, I know it's hard, but you're better off alone than with... with them, alright?"

It's hard to accept defeat but you nod weakly. You sit there together in silence for a while. Mulling everything over. Leon's right. You have to get out of there. And then it hits you. What if your partner doesn't just... let you go...

"But what if they-"

"I won't let them." his voice is firm, knowing exactly what you were going to say. He seems to have been thinking the exact same thing, and looking over, you notice he has that thinking look again, fists gripping your sides gently, protectively. "I promise I won't let anything happen to you, okay? We get you out, and we get you out in one piece." He looks into your eyes, this time, determined. His stare captures yours. You can't look away. You know what he's silently demanding, and you can't bring yourself to say no.

Weakly, you nod. "I want... I don't want to be with them anymore."

Leon lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding, and then seems to have a sort of 'eureka moment', but decides not to celebrate just yet. "That's great, Y/N. I'm... I'm happy for you." He gently rubs your shoulders a few times before getting up "How about I get takeout, yeah? This causes for celebration" He shoots you a playful smirk as he rushes to the kitchen to retrieve about 5 different menus which he then throws to you.

By the time you've escaped the four blankets he coated you with and decided what you'd like, he's got his shoes on and is ready to go. You get to your feet but are knocked back by a disarmingly playful glare. He chuckles as you fall back into the couch, defeated. "You're not going anywhere, buddy. I'm gonna get you some food, and when I get back, we'll sort things out. Okay? Just trust me, please." His look is soft. You feel completely cared for. And so, accepting his offer, you allow Leon to go on his way.

A while passes as you scroll through the shows on Leon's TV, all boring you. You'd rather be bored, though, than reading whatever abusive messages your soon to be ex had been piling up for you. You're exhausted. Curling up on the couch, you wait for Leon to get back. You feel so comfortable, and so soothed, and it's all thanks to him.

Leon was fortunate to find you asleep by the time he got back to his house. It gave him time to get changed into something more comfortable. It gave him time to clean his knuckles, and to remove any unsavoury messages that had accumulated on your phone (best friend password perks.) And by the time you woke up to the smell of your favourite food, it was still warm. He'd already plated it up for you, and you enjoyed it with your favourite choice of film. (Leon would NOT have it any other way.)

For a while, Leon's magic had drawn you from your problems, and it was only when you were drifting off for the second time that night that you even thought to check your phone. You were ready to do it. You were ready to leave that relationship behind. There was only one unread message, not a barrage of abuse, as you'd imagined.

Y/N. I understand that I've treated you poorly and for that I'm very sorry. You never deserved any of it. I hope you can forgive me, and I know you want out, so I think it's best for us both if we went our separate ways. I'll drop your things off at your mate's house tomorrow. I won't message you again.

That was strange, but it was welcome. And unbeknownst to you, you weren't the only one having the most peaceful sleep in a long time that night. Leon slept better than he'd done in months, maybe even years, and your ex, well. Your ex slept.

Thank you for reading this uhm it's kinda sussy we have no idea what happened to the ex ooo spookyyy!! imo Leon just beat them up haha Idk. Again I'm sorry this took so long! It was actually much more emotional and special for me to write haha so I hope someone out there likes it. Especially you, anon, if you're still around! Thank you! Thank you all for being here I love you all like crazy. If Leon teaches you anything here I hope it's that you're valid and important and that you matter, and not just to me!! To loads of people! Please believe in yourself and chase your dreams! Try and make time for your hobbies and aspirations! We're here to have fun and to live our lives!! Take some time out for yourself please, and remember you deserve love and respect and if people don't give it to you (when youve done nothing wrong) then maybe those people are smelly, and maybe you should surround yourself with a more positively fragrant variety of human. Love you!!!

[bcolfanfic]

Ahh id love to hear some hcs about the time when theyre trying to get bucky help/make him realise he needs to try and get help (even if that too turns to be difficult when they hit a wall at the VAs office)

poor sweet bub </3

in my head- it takes a minute after they get home for things to really get as bad as they do. when he first goes back to wyoming with gale and they get their marriage license the minute they're back (they say they'll have an Actual Wedding later, they just want it on paper asap), even though his mind is racing, he's kinda in lalaland just happy to be out of the war. and with gale and starting their life together.

then when the "newness" does start to wear off, he's antsy to really tell gale that he's struggling because he's scared of popping his bubble and "ruining everything". '

so he doesn't say anything- and just kinda starts spiraling into depression. sleeping more, crying in the shower, feeling really Out Of It when he is awake etc etc.

gale notices something is off right away, but bucky wont talk to him so it doesn't really get very far- until one of the nights bucky gets out of bed in the middle of the night and gale finds him just sitting in the living room crying into his hands </3

sits with him and bucky just kinda blubbers about everything and about how out of whack he's felt and how guiltily he feels over it. this is elaborated on more in the fic im working on- but to begin with gale encourages bucky to talk to the va, and it's him doing that advocating for himself at first, or at least trying to. there's a little movement, he gets an initial appointment and talks to someone but then in the attempting to have consistent, ongoing assistance is when things start to go sideways,

and after one call with them where he gets especially frustrated and really freaks out gale decides to take over trying to handle the va for him.

he has "episodes" kinda similar to the whole baseball thing- and mostly at night. in a way gale almost trains himself to sense when he's awake and not in bed anymore, and it really freaks him out the few times bucky ends up going outside at night. he only ever goes out into their backyard, and gale always manages to get him inside and back to bed safely, even if it takes a bit.

but a part of his increasing frustration with trying to get him help is that he's terrified that one night he isn't just going to be in the yard, or he's not going to wake up/realize he's gone and bucky's going to get hurt. and he knows he wouldn't forgive himself if anything did happen to him.

bucky talks to curt quite a bit when all of this is going on, in that he still feels like he's burdening gale with certain things and curt is "different". especially when a lot of his shit comes from blaming himself for curt getting hurt/his EOD unit not finding the explosive that blew his leg off, in a way it helps to talk to him as much as he can because it drills into his head that curt is alive and doesn't hate him for what happened.

[icepoptroll]

aaahhhh penny and mischa headcanons? not necessarily ship related. ive always thought they have a lot in common, given that they're both outsiders and (assuming in penny's case but given her track record, likely) perceived as troubled teens/troublemakers in general. a brotop between them is cute for me, but what do u think?

Wholeheartedly agree!

I can totally see them confiding in each other about the heavy stuff that not just anyone would completely understand. Pains like losing the only home/community they ever knew, being defined and judged and maligned by people who misunderstand them, having massive feelings that are hard to manage on their own. . .

1. They're for sure detention buddies. Sometimes they get in trouble as co-conspirators for the same thing, sometimes they just both happen to end up there. Either way, they try to socialize as best as they can but always end up getting shushed and threatened with another detention.

2. Both very emotional people, they'll often find themselves entrenched in deep conversations which result in them hugging each other and crying. They'll feel better in the end and go sneak into a movie or loiter outside the 7-11. Lol

3. Mischa will absolutely drop a devastating diss track on the spot on anyone who's got nasty shit to say about Penny. For those who get physical, well, he may just get physical back, or at least make them THINK he will

4. Penny wearing Bad Egg merch is a really cute mental image, might have to do something with that someday

5. Can see Penny teaching Mischa facts about endangered animals and him writing raps about them hehe

[melanieph321]

PLEASE!!!!!!!!! Ruben being a girl dad! She has him completely wrapped around her finger

I would die!!!! X

Ok 😊

Ruben Dias x Reader - Bad Braces

Enjoy!

Ruben was used to stepping through his front door and be ambushed by a cloud of pink. Your daughter was gifted a ballet tutu for christmas which resluted in her wearing it every where she went. There was a discussion with you about the problem with this, Ruben however did not see it. He loved coming home to a cloud full of pink and the day that this didn't happen was close to a nightmare for him.

"Where is Lina?" He asked, when you peered your head out of the kitchen into the hallway where he stood.

"What?" His eyebrows furrowed, seeing the concerned expression on your face. You stepped up to him, greeting him with a kiss on the cheek.

"Where is Lina?" He asked again.

You sighed. "She's in her room, saying that she won't come out ever."

Ruben frowned. "Her room? Did somthing happen at school?"

"Apparently somone made a comment about her new braces."

"What!"

"Along with her dress. So please Ruben remember what we talked about."

He was already charging towards your daughter's room, suprised to find that the door was locked.

"Lina? Lina meu amor, por favor, abra a porta."

He yanked the handle a couple of times, to no use however.

"Whatever is going on we can fix it, please let me fix it." If he could he would never let your daughter go back to school again. Ruben felt so hopless surrendering your only child to the cruel cruel world. He wanted to be there by her side everyday, protecting her.

"Pãi?"

He heard a low cry behind the door, your daughter's cry.

"Yes Lina I'm here, please open the door."

Small footsteps dragged across the floor and soon a key twisted in the lock.

"Pãi." Your daughter wiped her nose with the arm of her sleeve, her eyes bloodshot with tears.

"What happened, tell me." An instinctive thought appeared in Ruben's head. He would kill whoever made her feel this way. He entered her room only to find her ballet tutu tossed in a corner. They sat down on the bed.

"Did somone say something about your new braces?" He asked.

She nodded "And my dress."

Ruben balled up a fist, his knuckles white. His voice was calm however. "What did this person say?"

Lina bowed her head in shame. "He said that with my new braces on I looked like I stole children's teeth and ate them, like the opposite of the tooth fairy."

"He who?" Ruben said, balling up his fist again.

"This boy in my class, Alejandro said it."

"Alejandro." Ruben mumbled. "Well do you know where this Alejandro lives?"

Lina's eyes lit up, her head nodding excitingly. But then Y/N entered the room having overhead the whole conversation between them.

"The best thing would be to call his parents, don't think?" You said, giving Ruben a stern look.

"He shook his head. "Nah, I want to pay him a visit."

"Ruben he's eight, your not knocking on a eight year old's door, threatening to beat him up."

Ruben sighed, so did your daughter, they were each others soulmates.

"But mommy he was mean to me."

"I know that honey, but that is not how we deal with mean people in life. Ain't that right Ruben?"

He grunted.

You rolled your eyes.

"The next time Alejandro is mean to you do you know what you should do?"

"Stomp him in the nuts." Ruben muttured.

You shoved his shoulder.

"No, what you should do is give him a big smile and walk away, because violence is never the way."

"That's terrible advice. What you should do is sort of trip his legs and when you have him on the ground you should..."

"Ruben."

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding." He said, making your daughter laugh. At least he made her laugh again.

"No, your mother is right. We'll talk to your teachers at school, hopefully they'll make sure that this doesn't happen again."

"Promise?"

You watched your daughter jump off the bed and retrieve her tutu from the corner in her room. She put it on to Rubens satisfaction.

"I promise." He smiled and picked her up in his arms. "Or else I'll pay him a visit."

"Ruben." You sighed.

"Kidding, just kidding."