#maybe we were too young and didn't have anyone else other than each other

[whywoulditho]

vent

[impeakcharacterdesign]

Just the Tip

— Thomas Hewitt x Fem!Reader —

MDNI!!!

Summary: It’s the 1960s and Luda Mae frowns upon premarital sex like any good Christian woman. You and Tommy are young, hot, and in love but the only problem is that Tommy was raised to wait until marriage and never lets you two go any further than kissing and some groping.

But the devil lives in the hot Texan sun and even God takes a break from the summer heat.

Notes: this is super short, just pure smut, self indulgent I’m obsessed with big boy Tommy 😭😭😭 i swear I’m working on part 2 of my sister Sinclair fic but Tommy has me in a choke hold and I needed an outlet.

No TW that I can think of other than bad smut and maybe ??? Coercion??? Cause Tommy wants to be a good boy and stop before y’all go too far but you flash him and then he’s absolutely 100% in. A bit of religious stuff, period typical sexism but vaguely. Let me know if I should add anything else and I’ll get right on it. Reader isn’t ever referred to using “she/her” pronouns but is described as having breasts and does have female genitalia so I tagged it fem reader to be safe

Enjoy!!!

The early morning sun burned, chasing away what little cool air remained of the night before. While the barn shaded you from the unforgiving sun and hid you from disapproving eyes — or lecherous in the case of the older men of the family — it also trapped in the heat your two bodies gave off.

Thomas pressed his open mouth to your own, tongue swiping over your teeth eager to taste you. Your hands gripped his dark hair, ruining any half-effort attempt he had made earlier in the day to smooth down his unruly hair. He held you in his arms, body pressed tightly against him in an attempt to get as close as possible, his large frame hiding you even further from prying eyes than the shadowed corners of the old barn. The kiss was deep and hungry and served as a brief respite from Luda Maes ever watching eyes. While she had been fine with you living with the family before you and Tommy were married, she forbade you from sharing a room or being intimate, a rule she absolutely refused to budge on and one that Uncle Charlie took a strange glee in ribbing you about. But much like the Texan heat, the heated looks you gave each other were unavoidable and only grew hotter as the summer days went on. Luda Mae wanted to wait until the following spring to make your union official but at the rate the town was drying up, there wouldn't even be a priest to officiate the ceremony, much less any guest to attend. You highly doubted anyone outside of the family would want to witness your union anyway but still, Luda Mae didn't want the few who would to get wise and start counting months.

These stolen moments in the barn were as good as you could get — and by god were they good.

Tommy’s large hands groped at your breasts, pawing roughy at your nipples through the worn fabric of your old dress. It wasn’t long before you found yourself in the familiar position of being sprawled out on the barn floor, coarse hay a discomfort you had long learned to endure for the sake of pleasure.

You desperately thrust your sex up onto his growing bulge, whining when he groaned and pinned your hips with his own, preventing you from getting your desired stimulation. “Please Tommy,” you beg, lips separating, “We don’t have to do too much, I just wanna touch you.” You press open-mouthed kisses to his neck, pulling softly at the flesh with your teeth and tongue dragging across the bites to taste the salt on his skin. Your hands eagerly worked to untuck his faded green shirt and wrap around him, roaming the vast expanse of his back. His whole body shuddered in your arms, an attempt to hold back from eating you whole.

You know Thomas will put an end to your romp soon, the tense lines of his shoulders and the way he shuts his eyes a sign that he's reaching his limit, that if you two don't stop now you won't be able to stop — but that’s exactly what you want.

You're tired of holding back, of this constant edging you have to endure when you’re in his presence and it gets harder every day. Just yesterday afternoon, Uncle Charlie sprayed Tommy with the hose, telling him that he was filthy and needed to get out of those clothes before he went inside. Watching as he undressed by the back door so that you could put his clothes on the line to dry had nearly given you a heatstroke — and if Charlie’s leering grin was any clue, you swear he did it on purpose in an attempt to rile you up. You ran off before you sinned right there in the yard, the memory of Thomas's shirt clinging to his arms, his chest glistening with water had kept you company well into the night.

So before Tommy puts a stop to your roll in the hay you make your move. You lift your dress up past your breast and expose yourself to him, you can see his breath stutter in his chest, this was quickly becoming the farthest you two had ever gone.

“Just watch me, Tommy, watch me,” you say breathlessly.

And he does, he sits on his haunches like a predator, his engorged cock straining against his pants and imagining just a taste has your tongue darting out to wet your lips, his gaze fixated on the movement.

Sliding your panties off your legs, your fingers dip briefly into your wet hole, gathering slick to rub onto your clit. At the very first touch, you let out a shuddering breath and you watch as his shoulders heave.

You begin rubbing your clit at an intense pace already turned on from the earlier heavy petting, not once breaking eye contact with Thomas as you do. With each moan you muffle you see his eyes grow darker with desire breathing with his mouth open as though he could taste your scent in the air. When he finally lets his cock spring free you let out your loudest moan yet. It’s better than you ever thought. His cock is thick and heavy, drooping slightly under its own weight but still undeniably firm. It curves slightly and you imagine that if it was inside you it would scrape against your walls in a way you've never been able to do with just your fingers.

Thomas grips his cock firmly and gives it a few tugs, eyes alternating between hungrily drinking in the sight of your blissed-out expression and your dripping pussy. You buck your hips, desperate to press your clit against your fingers and Thomas jerks his length even faster, rubbing his tip and spreading his precum on his hand.

God, you wished it was you that was touching him.

Thomas settles onto his knees and after a brief hesitation begins to shuffle closer to you. The sight of him crawling to you on his knees with his dripping length in hand made your pussy clench around nothing and you let out a whimper. You remove your fingers from your clit, feeling the heat radiating from his cock as he settles on top of you, legs spreading around his waist, your hips slightly raised and resting on his thighs.

The tip hesitantly pressed against your clit and your moan fills the small space before you can suppress it. This was better than you were hoping and it felt as though you were pressing against the boundaries the lord had set for you. Tommy’s eyes find yours looking for reassurance, asking without words, “Do you think this is okay?”

You find enough comprehension in your lust-addled brain to come up with a coherent answer, “It should be fine, I think,” you stammer out, “I mean, it’s not like — not like you’re putting it in so, it should be fine.”

You’re not overly familiar with the word of God outside of Sunday services and Luda Mae’s lectures, both of which you were forced to attend and spent tuning out in favor of watching the sweat build on Tommy’s brow while he worked through the window.

You think that if God could feel the weight of Thomas like you did, feel the heat like you could, you think he’d forgive the sin of your act.

It seems like that was all the reassurance that Thomas needed because no sooner than the words fumbled their way out of your mouth that he begins to drag the length of his cock against your slit.

God, if this is what hell was supposed to be like, burning and full of decadence, then perhaps you didn’t mind being a sinner.

The way he ruts against you is euphoric. Heavy breaths escape you both and you can’t help the words that spill from your lips.

“God, Tommy, I wish you would put it inside me,” you whine out “‘wanna feel your fat cock in my pussy, wanna get filled,” you might as well be begging at this point, and Tommy's increases his pace to the point that you think he wants the same thing, that he’s desperate to thrust into you rather than against you and —

And then the tip of his cock catches on your entrance and you both stop breathing.

“Maybe — Maybe it doesn’t count.” You stammer out, “It didn’t go in and it’s just the tip, and I don’t think that the tip counts” With the slightest twitch of his hips the tip of his cock has slipped inside.

"It's - it's just the tip it's fine” Your words sound empty even to you but the reassurance is all Tommy needs to push forward and let the head of his cock slide into your welcoming heat

His soul nearly leaves his body when he feels your raw pussy on the head of his cock. He jerks his length furiously and your fingers begin to move against your clit again, eager to meet your high with Thomas.

But it’s not enough. He was right there, right there just one push of his hips he’d be right where you needed him

“Please Tommy” Canting your hips slightly so the tip begins to dig deeper into you, you begin to plead once more, “wanna feel you fill me up, wanna remember the shape of your cock please”

Thomas feels years of control break at your words and with one swing of his hips, he bottoms out instantly. You feel like you've been punched in the gut as the air rushes out of you and you let out a sound like a wounded animal. Tommy stays still deep inside you, shaking and heaving, absolutely drunk on the feeling of your soaked walls clenching vigorously around his length.

You feel full in a way you've never thought possible. His length throbs, its girth stretching you in a way that burns.

When he finally starts thrusting, you’re not ready. He’s like a man possessed, solely focused on the feel of you around him, your skin pressed against his, his blood pounding in his ears.

“Wait— Tommy, ah, slow — slow down, oh god!” You can’t hold back your moans and he can’t stop, both fully engrossed in the feel of each other with no control over your own lust. Thomas crashes his lips onto yours in a halfhearted attempt to keep down your moans, it’s sloppy, clashing teeth and drooling tongues, spit escaping your lips, unlike any you’ve shared before.

This is completely different from what you’ve imagined your first time together would be like. It’s not your wedding night, you're laying on the dirty barn floor and there’s absolutely nothing gentle about the way Tommy is ravaging you. Your pussy is sopping wet and with every thrust, it lets out an embarrassing squelch, your juices and Tommy’s pre-cum leak down your ass and make a sticky mess in his dark pubes.

He doesn’t stop even as your walls spasm around him, cumming on his cock and digging your nails into his strong back. He works you through your orgasm even as your mouth clumsily forms the words to beg for him to slow down or to give you a moment. It’s too much, the sensations completely overloading your brain and all you can do is hold on tightly to him, lost in the ecstasy of your release.

Thomas lets out a deep, guttural groan as he cums, hips stuttering as he bullies his fat cock into the deepest part of your sex, filling you to the brim and your vision goes white.

Boneless, neither one of you makes a move to separate from the other, so thoroughly satisfied and content to lie where you are holding each other, Thomas’s softening cocking slipping out of you and spilling his release onto the ground.

His weight on you is comforting, you gently press kisses to his face and bask in the way his heavy breaths caress your sweaty skin.

“I love you.” You whisper into the shell of his ear and he squeezes you against him, repeating the words in his garbled voice the best he could. Your love is just for the two of you, no one else had a place in your world, no one else had the right to peak in on your affection or gawk at your differences.

This moment in time was just for the two of you.

“Thomas! Where the hell are ya, boy!”

Well, until Uncle Charlie’s voice brought you back down to reality.

[shuenkio]

Brought the heat back | PsH. 💥

Paring: Sunghoon x M!reader | Genre: SMUT

Synopsis: Arrange married Park Sunghoon who you had never seen since birth, finally took a turn when he realized you're the one.

Cw: explicit scenes, cursing, cumming inside, moaning, whimpering etc (read at your own risk)

Non proof read | Eng is not my 1st lang.

This is a work of fanfiction, do not throw unnecessary tantrums on this nsfw/sfw blog. ©Shuenkio

A&N: from ANON request. I'm super sure there'd be awkward parts because I'm stressed out to write a perfect smut but might fail... Nvm enjoy reading. Smut below cut ✓

Enjoy your life at peace eat, drink, work, and sleep. Cycle this routine as life goes on. Until a man who is not your dream shows up. Since his parents and yours used to be hardcore bff when they were young, they wanted to tie the bond together by arranging a forced marriage between Sunghoon Park and M/N.

Disagree to this arrangement would be useless; why on earth would your parents befriend the gangster group out of everyone else? Which makes it worse if you don't want to be married to a man you have never met.

Along with your future groom, maybe at least you expected that he would be a gentleman, is a green flag, have a nice attitude, know what's right or wrong, be mature, talkative, or so on, yet none of these can be seen in him. All Sunghoon had was a face, a body, and a dead-looking, cold face.

He was an ice prince, for real. So on the day both guardians confirmed this ceremony, you couldn't help but wonder: What did you do to deserve all of this? A future husband who couldn't fit your standards—a future husband you didn't even know and love before. What would the tension between this unfold? Just sigh and let it be; better shut up or be breathless.

Later on, after the big party, Sunghoon and M/N were freshly married. Nothing special happened, not even a spare word for each other, any eye contact, especially Park Sunghoon, what's do you expect? All you got on your night together was,

"I don't like you, m/n—don't get your hope up just because we're married; now remember your place,"

and that was the last thing you've heard him say, and it's the most hurtful thing you've ever experienced. Then why? A month had passed since we were married, and you had noticed that Sunghoon's behavior had slightly changed from before.

He has a hot temper whenever you're on the phone with anyone, having a nice conversation with the neighbors, or interacting with anyone passing by when going out, and he can't seem to calm down. Sunghoon himself didn't even know why he felt this way; he said he hated you, but why would he be jealous of somebody else other than him? However, he didn't care if you'd bring up those events when he said those words.

All he knows is that he realizes that nobody else cares about him more than you. M/N, as Sunghoon's husband. Never been a lazy househusband; whatever the tension of hatred is, you still make him eat three times a day. Doing all the shit in the house as if you're the one who brought it. When he was sick, you were never afraid to ask him what's up and how he feels. And that's when he knows that you're the one.

Either you love him or not, he's going to repay you and make you love him back. Who cares right now if you love him or not, because once you're in here, you can't leave in anyway? Coming home after a late-night date, Sunghoon's is full of all the memories and contact you had with the waitress earlier at the restaurant. You were a little too sweet toward those guys. as a result of making him unable to hold back his possessions and jealousy any more. Sunghoon needs to mark you as his own; it's now or never that you are his property only. The eyes contact; ugh, he can't seem to stop the burning sensation inside his brain.

Without further ado, once m/n settles in the bedroom, Sunghoon quickly locks the door slam with one click, and all the windows shut off from the remote. Starlet, by the sudden, you ask him nervously; a look could kill a person's presence on Sunghoon's face. It was dark; if his eyes could glow, it'd be lava red in irritated. Yet he didn't respond with anything. He ripped off his top and threw them away before buckled his belt, prepared to do something to his desire.

You know that you'd be a food to his Hungary by this midnight, all fabric on the floor. What's that mean? Well,  he's probably doing what most couples do; actually, he's going to fuck and drive you nuts. Gulping down a hard lamp in your throat, too scared to run away, too scared to say no, but there's a small part in you that screams you have to let him be; there's must be something underneath after all of this. When you open up for him, exhale what's coming for you. In one motion, both of you and his underwear are nowhere to be seen.

You always wonder, as a boy, what the dick would look like for the hot guy. It is long, small, curved, or what? Yes, Sunghoon was there to unveil that; his cock was gorgeous, he had big, huge ass balls, and the shaft was paler than his skin. His tip is faded pink, and well, the best part is that he's uncut. He doesn't like getting his skin chopped off anyway. Seeing you gone speechless by the view he was giving, only to boost his desire even better, no warning alert, your two legs are thrown across on his shoulder, while his cock is in the position of your small hole.

The atmosphere changes in an instant; the dark, empty bedroom is filled with a burning spark. Neither you nor him had any experience, but let's say Sunghoon has been trained for a while now, probably most of his alone time, to know and do what could drive you to your begging stage.

"S-sunghoon, I know it's not wrong, but... You're too huge for me."

"I don't give a damn, m/n, endure it. I'm yours, husband, isn't it? You can't say otherwise!" Distracted by his words, you were surprised at the contact of his cock buried inside you, thrusting in unexpectedly. The enormous hard cock of his indeed spread your ass into two, resulting in your cries out with pleasure.

Seeing you still adjusting to his size, Sunghoon trailed down his lip, brushing softly against yours. The kiss is mixed with love and jealousy of his; he can't stop it now to breed you and mark you as his own. He was eager to tell the world you were his only. Sinking into Sunghoon's touch, you slowly and finally adjust to his huge cock. Once he knew you were ready, his demonic power took over him as he began to push his hip to the deepest part he could ever go in one thrust. The sudden sensation drizzled you as you whimpered out loud shamelessly. Meanwhile, Sunghoon also had the same feeling; his body shuddered into pieces when he moved his own hip up and down.

All those sex toys are nothing compared to your tight entrance, which is clenching so hard and tight of his cock at the moment. He is groaning so good; it was heavenly pleasurable. It's going on for another couple of poundings until Sunghoon gets a sign he'll explode anytime soon. Clearly, you are unprepared but have to be without it. As both of his large arms encircle your waist, the wet kisses continue harder than his tongue licking over all your lips and intertwined in your mouth. Chasing that climax, which is what you're aiming for too,

"M/n, I'm fucking coming; I'm coming; I'm —" desperately, he breaks the kisses, and in one last grind, he comes undone inside of you. The massive load filled you like a cum dump, squirting out all of his orgasms and shivering with all the nerves. Enough with him cumming out; you're soon finding your dick twitches, following his orgasm as it squirted, and shooting out the hot white liquids too.

With your eyes flying up facing the ceiling, you endure the pleasure, sucking in a sharp breath. You were almost passed out with just one round, your chest heaving nonstop while Sunghoon was already recovering a while ago. M/N just feels too good to fuck, and he won't stop till he is satisfied.

"M/n! Don't test me from now on; I realized that you're nobody but someone who still puts up with me even if I'm a bad husband. I'm going to love you like no one else can, and if you ever smile at somebody else than me, I promise I'll bring the heat back." 

🗣️Reblog and like is much appreciated ♥

🗣️ please mind my English! ><

🗣️ CRD TO ALL THE OWNERS.

[avatar-anna]

I feel like we haven’t seen much of youngmom reader super pregnant with her 7 babies??? Maybe I just don’t remember but I’d love to see y/n throughout her pregnancies! If not it’s okay I love ALL YOUR WORK!! ❤️

Baby Fever

Young Dad! Harry Styles x Young Mom! Reader Masterlist

i was too tired to include charlie. sorry!

Simone

Y/n sighed as she looked over her figure in the mirror, her shoulders slumping at the sight of her unbuttoned jeans and swollen belly. Looking down, she glared pointedly at the bump, saying, "Damn you, Harry."

She tried to button up her jeans one last time to no avail, then fell back on the bed behind her. It was Harry's, Y/n didn't feel comfortable enough to call it hers too, even though he insisted his home was hers now. The mattress was plush enough for her to sink into, and the sheets were softer than soft, she just felt like she was a guest staying in someone else's home.

It didn't help that she was alone most days. If Y/n had thought Harry had a busy schedule before all of this, she sorely underestimated the hectic schedule he had on a daily basis. The first half of her pregnancy, Harry was gone on tour promoting One Direction's latest album. When he came back to London, he was gone almost all day for interviews and late night talk shows and performances at radio stations. Work seemed neverending, and when Harry did eventually trudge through his front door, he was pretty much dead on his feet.

It was a weird situation that they were in, but nothing about their relationship had ever been typical.

Not really caring what kind of important meeting or interview he was having, Y/n pulled out her phone, scrolling through her contacts until she landed on the right person.

"Y/n! It's good to hear from you! How've you been?"

"Put him on the phone, Louis. I need to talk to him. Please," she said, adding please after realizing how harsh she sounded.

Louis was quick to do as she asked, though. Y/n could hear him rustling and calling out until he eventually found her boyfriend.

There was a time when Y/n didn't think she could call Harry that. She'd always liked him. Since the day they met, they were both absolutely smitten with each other, anyone could see that. But when she found out she was pregnant, things shifted. Y/n and Harry's relationship catapulted into chaos, and before they could even have the boyfriend-girlfriend conversation, they were suddenly nine months away from being parents.

Over time, they got to that place they'd been in before Y/n got pregnant. They had the boyfriend-girlfriend conversation, and now they were happy.

Well, for the most part.

"Hey, love, what's up? Everything okay?"

The sound of Harry's voice soothed and frustrated her all at once. Tears, which had been an unwelcome side effect of her pregnancy, began to well in her eyes.

"My jeans don't fit anymore."

There was silence between them, Y/n's words floating between them until it was eventually broken by Harry's laughter.

"It's not funny!" she insisted, even though she began to giggle alongside him.

"Baby," Harry said once his laughter subsided. "Why are you trying to put jeans on anyway? Are you going somewhere?"

"No, I've just gained so much weight. I feel like a blob, and you're partly to blame."

Y/n knew the baby bump was coming, she knew there would come a time when jeans and tops wouldn't fit and she'd have to buy clothes that were more accommodating to the baby growing in her belly. She just didn't expect to be this emotional about it. It was probably just the hormones.

"I'm sorry, baby," Harry said, a note of seriousness in his voice that Y/n appreciated even though she knew she was being slightly unreasonable. "I still think you're the prettiest girl I've ever laid eyes on."

Groans of protest and disgust erupted from Harry's side of the phone, followed by teasing at Harry's sappy words. "I came in here for privacy! Don't complain when you hear shit you didn't want to hear!" he told his bandmates. He mumbled something about never getting a moment alone anymore and nosy pricks, which made Y/n giggle as he presumably found a new place to talk to her privately.

In a hushed voice, he said, "I don't like it when you cry, baby."

"I wasn't planning on it," she sniffled. "I know I should've anticipated this, but now my belly sticks out and nothing fits me and I look horrible."

"No you don't," Harry said, not missing a beat. He didn't have to see her to know she looked just as gorgeous as she always did. Baby bump or no baby bump. "Put your sweats back on, love. I'll bring home dinner and we'll watch a movie."

"Really?" Y/n asked, and Harry could all but imagine her watery smile. "Because the baby's craving hot wings, and I know you don't like them."

Shaking his head, he promised, "Don't worry. Text me what you want. I'll be home soon."

"I���Thank you. B—Bye."

Harry's breath hitched, his phone still pressed to his ear even after she'd hung up. He knew what Y/n had been about to say, at least he was ninety percent sure he knew. He could only hope she was going to say, "I love you." Neither of them had said it to each other before, not wanting to get lost or caught up in the emotions of having to baby together. But Harry knew. He'd known for some time now. He just didn't want to scare her by just how deep his feelings went.

Slipping his phone into his pocket, Harry went back into the green room where the rest of the boys were. He took the ribbing they gave him for being "smitten" and "whipped." But he didn't care. Y/n was waiting for him to bring her dinner, and that was really all he could think about as the minutes ticked by until he could go home.

*.*

Collette

Y/n couldn't help the slacking of her jaw as she watched her husband.

Sure, she'd seen him a number of different ways—working out, doing handiwork around the house, performing onstage, dressed for a red carpet—but here, as he wore a tiara and held a tiny teacup with pretend tea in it and sat across from his daughter, Y/n had never been more turned on in her life.

Well, that wasn't entirely true. Yesterday it was the way her husband had offered to go to the grocery store for her, and just an hour ago it was how he hummed to himself while he made breakfast for her and Simone. Shirtless. By now, Y/n was fairly used to her attraction to Harry, but it was as if every little thing he did turned her on.

She'd read about this in a couple articles online and pregnancy books, that some pregnant people sometimes became extremely horny due to the hormonal changes happening in their bodies. When Y/n was pregnant with Simone, she never really...felt that way. Perhaps it was because she was so nervous and overwhelmed by the situation at hand, but now she was feeling it tenfold.

Needing to distract herself, Y/n went upstairs to the nursery to fold laundry. To nest, as Harry liked to tease. They'd been working on the nursery together for weeks in preparation for their second baby, and now it was nearly finished. Y/n and Harry let Simone pick out some of the decorations, like the fuzzy lion rug and Winnie the Pooh themed pillows and pick out toys she thought the baby might like. And now it was pretty much done, all that was needed was for the baby to be born.

Y/n had gone upstairs to distract herself, to keep Harry out of her line of sight so she wouldn't openly drool in front of Simone, but now she was alone with her imagination which was starting to run a little wild. She folded the baby clothes carefully as her mind stubbornly wandered. Harry's hands, his arms, his broad shoulders and sharp jaw. He was all she could think about, and the more she thought about him, the more she wanted him.

Would he want me?

They'd never really hooked up when Y/n was pregnant. Things were different then, more complicated, but Y/n didn't think Harry would be into her when she was significantly more round than usual. She didn't feel sexy or attractive, and she could only imagine Harry felt the same. They kissed and cuddled in bed, but since they found out she was pregnant, they didn't do much more than that. Y/n could only guess it was because she was showing now.

Later that afternoon, Y/n was in bed resting, the baby in her belly moving around a little too much to be comfortable. Simone was napping, and Harry was taking care of some things downstairs. Overall, it was a pretty relaxing day.

Minus the horniness, but Y/n tried to push that down.

She'd been doing a pretty good job of it until Harry burst into the room, sweaty and grimy and without a shirt, the article of clothing in question in his hands and covered in dirt and oil stains.

A flare of heat went straight to Y/n's cheeks as she subtly crossed one leg over the other, her stare zeroing in on her husband's chest. Before she could be caught, she blinked, meeting his gaze.

"What...What happened to you?"

"Your car needed an oil change," Harry said, as if that explained everything. "Might have run into some hiccups along the way, but it should be good to go."

It was enough to shake her from her lust-filled haze. "Why couldn't we just take it into the shop?"

Harry shrugged again as he headed for the bathroom, ditching his clothes as he went. Was he trying to kill me? you thought helplessly, your crossed legs doing nothing to soothe the ache between them.

"I did it. It's fine." Then the sound of the shower filled the bedroom, and steam slowly began to roll past the bathroom door. "The baby still kicking?"

His voice was echoey and faint, and Y/n didn't need much encouragement to imagine her husband all soapy and wet as he rinsed off. He didn't even invite her to join him. If this was what pregnancy did to her sex life, she was never getting pregnant again.

"Y—Yeah. A little."

"I'm sorry, Mama. You know, I read something about babies kicking at this stage. It..."

Y/n wanted to listen, but she just couldn't. She wanted him so bad she could barely think straight. And it frustrated her to no end that Harry probably didn't feel the same. He just breezed right past her when he came into their bedroom, barely even looked up as he shuffled into the bathroom for his shower. Every inch of her body was lined with need for him, and he...he just kept ignoring her.

Harry was still talking as he shuffled out of the bathroom, a towel slung low on his hips. The man standing before her was one big walking, talking tease—rivulets of water running over ridiculously prominent muscles, tattoos that she just wanted to touch, or kiss, or maybe lick, skin slightly pink from the shower, and that towel that seemed to be hanging onto him by a thread. If only she could just—

"Mama? Everything okay?"

Blushing, Y/n tried to pretend it wasn't taking everything in her to not jump him. "Yep. Perfect."

"Are you sure?" he asked skeptically. "You look a little flushed. Should I get you a cold towel—"

Y/n couldn't take it anymore. Unhindered by her baby bump, she sat up and surged forward, planting her hands firmly on Harry's shoulders and kissing him. To her surprise, he didn't recoil and instead rested one hand on her waist and one in her hair, pulling her closer to him.

His skin, still warm and a little damp from his shower, had never felt so delicious against hers. She wanted him to rip her clothes off, she wanted him to use a little force and push her back onto the bed, she wanted him to be rough with her. Tightening her grip, Y/n sunk her teeth into Harry's lip, hoping to get some kind of reaction from him.

"Mama, maybe we should—"

"Fuck, nevermind," she huffed, pushing Harry away from her. Falling back onto the bed, Y/n tried to make herself comfortable. She would've put her back to him and rested on her side, but her belly wouldn't have made that very possible.

"Y/n?"

"Go away."

"Baby, what—what's wrong? I just—"

Y/n, who had been pointedly not looking at Harry, glared harshly at him. "I get it. You find me repulsive now that I'm pregnant, which, can I just say is despicable—"

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked, confusion furrowing his brow.

Suddenly feeling uncomfortable, Y/n wrapped her arms around herself. "You won't—I mean you haven't—Okay, I'm just gonna say it. I'm horny all the fucking time, and you're—you barely even touch me!"

"That's not—" Harry sighed, running a hand over his face. "That's not even remotely true, Mama."

"Don't Mama me," Y/n said, not believing him entirely.

"Let's get one thing clear, Y/n. I don't find you repulsive," Harry said, inching closer to Y/n on the bed. "I—I don't even think that's possible."

"Then why won't you have sex with me?" Y/n asked, and when he began to laugh, she swatted at his arm. "Don't laugh at me! You don't get it!"

Before she could even think to protest, Harry hauled Y/n on his lap. She tried to stubbornly push him off, but he held her steady, on hand tilting her chin to look at him. "I've been worried about the baby."

"Huh?"

"The baby, darling. I didn't want to, like, hurt you or her or anything by, you know...going too hard." Harry's cheeks flushed, but he pressed on. "You really thought it was because I didn't want to be with you."

Y/n's nod was shame-filled at the hurt in his voice. "I can barely get you to wrap your arms around me, and these hormones are driving me absolutely insane, H."

Gently, Harry kissed the top of his wife's cheekbone. Smoothing back some of her hair, he said, "You honestly think I could resist you, Mama? It's been torture."

"Yeah?"

"Baby," he said, leaning Y/n back toward the bed. "You really think you're not an absolute dream right now? You think I don't want my mouth all over these gorgeous tits? You think I don't want my hands all over you? You think I'm not aching for you all the time?"

"I didn't think—"

"If you think for one second that I don't find you irresistible, then I'm a terrible husband." Harry made sure Y/n was comfortable against the pillows before kissing her once, then pushed the t-shirt she wore past her chest. "I'm sorry, Mama. I've just been looking out for the baby, I swear. Let me make it up to you?"

"H—How?"

"We'll be gentle. For now," he added at Y/n's squawk of protest. "I really don't want to do anything wrong, so let me just love on you, okay? Let me show you how fucking breathtaking you are."

Harry kissed a line down Y/n's entire body, and she struggled to keep it together when he made it to her thighs. Her breaths suddenly became unsteady, Harry's chuckle making her squirm when he finally moved her underwear aside.

Before he went any further, though, Y/n called his name, making him pause. "You really think I'm beautiful. Even with the belly?"

Eyes softening, Harry shimmied back up the bed to kiss Y/n on the lips. His mouth was soft against hers, but firm, a promise in them that she accepted happily. Harry's tongue was both familiar and reassuring against hers, warming her up from within.

"Believe me when I say that I've never seen anyone more beautiful than you, Y/n," he murmured. "I'm sorry I made you feel otherwise."

Blushing, Y/n beamed before kissing Harry repeatedly all over his face. "I love you, I love you, I love you," she said. "Now I really need you to fuck me."

Chuckling, Harry pushed his hair out of his face. "Let's start with make love, okay?"

Y/n wanted to pout, but she knew that was perhaps the safest option. It was sensible of Harry to look out for the baby, but now he had some making up to do. So she nodded and settled further into the pillows, kissing her husband once more before letting him worship her.

*.*

Maeve and Julian

"Just like that, Mama. That's perfect!"

Raising an eyebrow at her husband, she asked, "Are you even taking pictures of my face?"

Harry peeked his head from behind the camera. "Well...not right now, but this shot is perfect, I promise. Just a couple more seconds."

Y/n humored Harry just as he asked. He'd been really set on doing an at-home pregnancy photoshoot. Nothing extravagant, just her in a pair of jeans and a bouquet of flowers. Y/n of course said yes, but perhaps she was a tiny bit incentivized by a bubble bath and a back rub from her husband.

She tried to remain still, but then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw movement. "Simone! Easy!"

Harry looked over to his daughter. Simone played on the lawn where Harry decided the photoshoot would take place, spinning around and around in circles until she fell down in a heap of giggles. The second time she'd done it made Y/n nervous Simone would make herself sick, but Harry put a hand up to keep her where he wanted her.

"Come here, peanut! Let's take a picture with mummy," he called out, beckoning Simone over.

Simone rushed over, face flushed and eyes bright. She looked so much like Harry in that moment—big, squinty eyes, cheeky smile, crinkled nose—that Y/n nearly did a double take.

Setting down the bouquet of flowers, Y/n quickly shrugged on the loose robe she'd worn before Harry insisted on her taking it off. It was light and airy, perfect for the hot flashes she got on occasion, and perfect for what she imagined Harry had in mind until he told her his idea.

"Just trust the vision, Mama, he'd said before offering to untie the strings himself.

Once it was on, she reached for Simone and hoisted her up. Y/n ignored her husband's warning, opting to kiss her daughter's cheek instead. It was so important to Y/n that Simone didn't feel left out or upset about a new sibling when Y/n and Harry found out they were pregnant with Collette.

So far Simone had been positive about having another baby sister in the house, but Y/n was still cautious, still conscious of her oldest daughter's feelings now that she was pregnant again. And baby bump seemed to be growing bigger by the day, and she wanted to hold and cuddle and play with her daughter as much as she could before she couldn't do much more than waddle around.

"I'm sitting on the babies!" Simone giggled, making Y/n laugh too. Harry had stopped his protests, which told Y/n that he was back to snapping his pictures.

"What do you think, little melon? Should we get baby Collette in the picture too?" Y/n asked after Harry had snapped photos from a few different angles.

"Will you at least sit down?" Harry asked, exasperated by Y/n trying to overexert herself.

"You worry too much," she told him, but did as he asked anyway after taking Simone from her bouncer.

Collette nestled against Y/n immediately, her little cheek squished and lips puffed out as she rested on her mother's chest. Simone stood over Y/n and Collette, peering down at her sister's face curiously.

"She's sleepy, Mommy," she said, reaching down to gently hold Collette's hand.

"Yeah, it's almost nap time," Y/n told Simone. Then, to Harry, "How are we doing, Daddy? Collette's going down and I have to pump."

"Go ahead and put her down. Simone and I will play for a little bit, won't we, peanut? Maybe take a couple more pictures?"

"Yeah!"

Simone was always game for anything Harry suggested, as if each word that came from her father's mouth was pure gold. Y/n admired how much she loved her dad, but sometimes they could be a troublesome duo, Simone asking for something and Harry giving in without a thought.

After Harry trotted over to help Y/n to her feet, she shuffled inside, heading up to the nursery to lay Collette down for a nap. She planned to set Collette down in her crib, but something made her head for the rocking chair in the opposite corner of the room instead. Settling herself down with the baby, Y/n began to rock back and forth, humming idly as she waited for Collette's eyes to close.

It didn't take long, but Y/n kept on holding her daughter anyway, content to rock back and forth and rest her legs after the trek up the stairs. She'd never admit it to Harry, but being pregnant with two babies instead of one this time around was taking a toll on her much sooner than her other pregnancies. Her husband was already a mother hen when Y/n was pregnant, she didn't need to add fuel to that well-kept fire.

"Isn't that a sight."

Looking up, Y/n found Harry at the foot of the nursery, looking at where Collette slept soundly against her bare chest. Y/n had undone her robe once more for skin-to-skin contact with the baby, something she liked to do when she was alone. It made her feel more connected to Collette somehow, and she found that Collette fell asleep easier that way. It was a lazy afternoon, there wasn't much Y/n needed to worry about—it honestly felt pretty perfect.

"She sleeps better this way," Y/n said by way of explanation.

"I believe it," Harry replied, a mischievous twinkle in his eye that Y/n pointedly ignored.

"Where's Simone?" Y/n asked, still rocking.

Harry gestured behind him with his camera. "Downstairs watching a show. We agreed on two episodes before bathtime."

Y/n raised an amused brow at their daughter's negotiation tactics, but decided not to comment on it. "I'll come down in a bit. I still need to put her down and pump."

Grinning, Harry said, "You couldn't get out of that chair, could you?"

"It's a comfortable chair," Y/n said with a shrug, not wanting to let her husband know he was spot on.

"Oh, I know," he said. "I've fallen asleep in that thing more times than I care to admit."

Coming into the room, Harry carefully took Collette from Y/n, kissing her head before laying her down in the crib. Once she was settled and Y/n's clothes were righted once more, Harry reached a hand down to her. She let him help her up, even let him tie up her robe again, resigned to his fussing.

"You need to take it easy. The doctor said early labor is common with twins."

"I know, I am," Y/n reassured. "How can I do anything but take it easy when I have my own personal nurse?"

Harry looked at his wife flatly. "Ha. Ha. Now get your cute butt to our room so you can pump and then help me with bathtime."

"Simone's really quite reasonable—"

"She insists that I do it wrong," Harry said, genuinely confused by his daughter's antics.

Kissing his cheek, Y/n checked on the baby monitor once before leaving the nursery. "I'll be as quick as I can, then I'll show you how it's done."

Harry followed her out, heading for the stairs while Y/n went to their room. "Mum of the year!" he said before jogging down to Simone.

Too right, Y/n thought, a smile spreading across her face.

*.*

Geneva

"Mommy?"

"Yeah, babydoll?"

"How does baby sister get in your belly?"

Y/n's eyes widened as she looked down at where Maeve was pressed against her side. They were relaxing by the pool, watching from the shade as Harry tossed the other kids and splashed around in the shallow end. Maeve had joined in on the fun before, but she'd waded out of the pool a few minutes ago for a break from the sun. Her little cheeks were red, long brown hair stringy from the chlorine. Y/n brushed Maeve's hair away from her face as she tried to come up with an answer. Coming up short, she rested her hand on her protruding belly.

"Why are you asking Maevie?"

"Daddy said baby sister is in your belly," Maeve said, poking Y/n's baby bump with a sun-warmed finger. "But how did it get there?"

"You know...that's a great question," Y/n said, raising her hand to shade her eyes as she looked over to where Harry was waist-deep in the pool. His dark hair was plastered to his neck and shoulders in a curly tangle, water droplets glistening on his tan skin.

To this day, Harry was still the most beautiful man she'd ever laid eyes on. Now that they were stuck at home, he took his brief moments of alone time in the form of working out, but only after baking had gained him a few pounds. Y/n never minded, she loved his body any which way it looked.

Eyes dipping down to his waist and below, she definitely couldn't hide how much she appreciated his body now.

"Mommy!"

Shaking herself out of her stupor, she looked down at Maeve, who was clearly determined to get to the bottom of the baby in her mom's belly.

"Right. Sorry babydoll." Y/n hoisted Maeve onto her lap. "Mommy and Daddy...love each other so much. So...when mommies and daddies love each other, they...make a wish on a shooting star...for a baby."

"Really?"

Y/n tried not to laugh at her own ridiculous response as she nodded. "Of course. And then our wish came true, and in a few months, we'll have baby sister."

"Oh." Maeve seemed to think about it for a moment, a small finger on Y/n's belly. "And you wished for me and JuJu too?"

Y/n nodded, holding Maeve's cheeks in her hands. "Absolutely. We wished so hard we got twins!"

Maeve scampered back to the pool a few minutes later, calling out to Harry to help her put on her water wings so she could jump in the pool. Content to watch all the fun from her lounge chair, Y/n stayed back, smiling faintly at all the giggles and squeals of joy as Harry repeatedly tossed one child after another into the pool.

Now alone, she thought about Maeve's question a little more in-depth. As far as she and Harry were concerned, they were done having kids after the twins. Four kids was just the right amount of chaos, and things were finally getting back to normal—or as normal as they could be amid a global lockdown—after the separation.

Not that anyone else in their family seemed to be, but Y/n and Harry were surprised to find out she was pregnant again. At the time. Of course, in hindsight, there was a night when Harry and Y/n couldn't keep off each other. It had been after the first night they'd really spent together as a couple again, and after that, it was as if a dam had broken and Y/n and Harry were reliving their honeymoon phase.

But surprised as they were, they took it in stride. Both of them were nervous about Y/n having a baby in such serious circumstances, but they would take the proper precautions to ensure her and the baby's safety. They were ready for this, ready to do it all again.

"You know Maeve asked me where babies come from today?" Y/n asked later in the evening.

Everyone except for her and Harry were fast asleep, tuckered out from a long day of playing in the sun. Harry had just come back from tucking the twins in and singing them a song like he always did, and now he and Y/n were side by side in their shared bathroom as they got ready for bed.

"Did she? Wait—Can you help me?" Harry asked, gesturing to his red shoulders and back.

Y/n picked up the aloe lotion she kept around just for this reason and squeezed some into her hand and began spreading it over her husband's back. "Not in those words, but she asked how her baby sister ended up in my belly."

"We've never gotten that question, have we?" he mused. "What did you say?"

"That we wished on a shooting star," Y/n shrugged, then explained her short conversation with their daughter about how babies ended up in bellies.

Harry became quiet for a moment. He'd been listening as she rubbed lotion onto his shoulders, but this was different. No one else would've been able to notice his subtle change in demeanor, but Y/n did. She'd known him long enough to read every shift of his posture and line of his body.

"What is it?" she asked, turning him around to face her.

"I just...I just barely stopped short of wishing on stars to have all this again."

Things didn't immediately go back to normal when Harry moved back in. Y/n put on a good front for the sake of the kids, but it was awkward. Neither of them knew how to act around each other, and it took a few weeks for Y/n to trust that Harry was back for good. Even when they had to quarantine, she worried he'd check out, turn to his music for peace of mind. Harry knew all of his wife's reservations, of course, and he didn't blame her for having them. He'd left, that was a choice he made. At the time, he'd done what he thought was best for his family, but he knew now that he only put more distance between himself and his kids, his wife, and he'd regret every minute they spent apart for a long time.

"I love you, H," Y/n said, cupping his cheek in her hand. It was scratchy under her palm, as Harry had taken to being more lax about shaving during lockdown. "I—We would not be...here if I didn't want this, all of this, with you. You know that, don't you?"

He nodded, eyes closing for just a moment. Harry knew he would've been spending his days in a guest bedroom if Y/n wanted that from him. But they worked past their issues, were still working on them, in some ways.

"I know," he promised. "It just hits me sometimes how lucky I am to have you. Not just as a wife and mother, but you, Y/n. I can't—I couldn't handle a single moment without you."

Looking away, Y/n fanned her face, blushing furiously at the tears that welled in her eyes. "You know I get emotional at the drop of a hat, you ass."

Harry merely smiled, letting the somber moment pass. Taking her hands in his, he led her out of the bathroom. "Doesn't make what I said any less true."

Rolling her eyes, Y/n said, "Whatever. Let's go back to talking about how you played mermaids for two whole hours with Simone and Collette."

"I still don't really get it," Harry said, pulling back the fluffy comforter of their bed back. "The girls changed the color of their tails every two minutes. And why does a mermaid need to control fire? Talking to animals I get, but what good is fire underwater?"

Harry looked genuinely perplexed, but Y/n could only laugh. Her husband indulged in almost every one of his daughters' whims, and games where he had to pretend to be a mythical creature was no different. She wouldn't be surprised if packages filled with mermaid paraphernalia arrived in the mail within the next few days so that everyone could really get into character.

She didn't think it often, but right then, Y/n wondered what people would make of the Harry Styles pondering the continuity of his daughters' favorite pool game.

*.*

Natalia

Harry: At the grocery store. Need anything?

Y/n: Your dick, please.

Harry: So...is that in the same aisle as the condoms or...?

Y/n: Don't be mean. I need you.

Harry: That's why I'm going to the store, baby. You asked me to pick up snacks for you this morning for your cravings.

Y/n: I changed my mind. The kids are napping and/or playing in their rooms and/or watching tv.

Y/n: Come fuck me.

Y/n: Please???

Harry: As soon as I get home I'm all yours, baby. I promise.

Y/n sent an image

Y/n: You're really saying no?

Harry: Mama...

Harry: That's from the pregnancy shoot we did.

Y/n: Ass. I'm putting my clothes back on.

Harry: Don't you dare.

Harry: You really want me to abandon the cart? I was just grabbing the pizza bagels you liked.

Y/n is typing...

Y/n: Get the pizza bagels. THEN come home and fuck me.

Harry: Got it. Get ready for me, Mama.

Y/n: !!!

[fluentmoviequoter]

Confessions of a SWAT Team

Pairing: David 'Deacon' Kay x fem!SWAT!reader

Summary: You and Deacon fell in love with each other, but didn't tell anyone. When officers closer to your age begin flirting with you, Deacon grows distant and won't tell you why.

Warnings: angst, fluff, age gap (not specific but I imagined ~15-20 years, so reader would be late 20s?), Deacon is protective, some arguing, mentions of insecurity, reader is somewhat shy, I used the term "suicide bomber" once in passing. Luca, Street, and Hondo meddle. I think that's all!

Word Count: 2.9k+ words

Requested Here!

Picture from Pinterest

Falling in love with Deacon Kay was easy. Telling anyone, including the man himself, is not so easy.

Deacon Kay never considered the idea of skydiving to be scary… until he found himself falling head over heels for you, the newest recruit. When you walked in on your first day, confident of your skills yet willing to learn your place in the team and receive feedback, he felt something new. You were quiet and reserved, willing to learn, and each time he complimented your skills or offered an idea to make something easier or for improvement, you opened up a bit more. More than attraction, there was a deep need to get to know you, to protect you, to stay close to you, and, later, to hide his biggest secret from you and everyone else. Deacon Kay was falling in love but knew it was wrong.

At the end of your probationary period, you and Deacon have a deep connection, secrets and all. His need to stay close and protect you has only strengthened with time, but every time he looks at you, sees your youth, and pictures the bright future you could have, he tries to silence his heart and listen to his mind. You’re too young and could do so much better, he thinks.

Two months into working with 20 David, you were trapped face-to-face with a suicide bomber. With no protection and no escape route, you maintained a brave act while hoping, praying, that your gear would keep you alive. With three seconds left on the detonator countdown, you feel someone wrap their arms around you as their shoulder blocks your face. The force of the explosion knocks you backward, twisting in your savior’s arms to land on top of Deacon. You feel the pressure build in your eyes as you yell at him never to do that again. He can never know, but his protectiveness scares you because it puts him directly in harm’s way.

After the bombing incident, Deacon gets closer. He puts himself between you and gunfire, taking several shots to his Kevlar while leading you to safety. During a raid with narcotics, a cartel leader jumps on top of you, and you struggle for the upper hand until Deacon hauls him off of you, finishing the fight on your behalf. After Deacon protects you, he always takes you back to the station, placing a gentle hand on the small of your back as he leads you somewhere private. He tends to your wounds and reminds you that he’s always there if you need to talk.

You want to talk to him more than anything, but Deacon is a Sergeant II, and he’s older than you, and, most importantly, he likely frowns upon inter-team relationships. So, you bottle everything up. Forever.

“You think he’ll ever tell her?” Street asks as Deacon walks out, close enough to you that your hands brush with every step.

“He hasn’t even told us,” Luca points out.

“Maybe we should do something.”

“Their relationship is theirs, guys,” Hondo interjects. “We shouldn’t interfere. Yet.”

Street and Luca smile at the thought of intervening in the future and seeing their teammates happy. They know Deacon is single-handedly responsible for breaking you out of your shell, but they’d like to see it go one step further.

✯✯✯✯✯

“She’s gorgeous,” someone says.

Deacon’s brow furrows as he hears voices grow louder. He tries to focus on the computer before him, looking for blueprints for an entry raid.

“Care for a friendly bet?” a second voice asks.

Several young officers dressed in street clothes stop beside the door where Deacon is working. He can see them, but they haven’t noticed him yet. His focus wavers when he thinks he hears your name.

“Of course, we’re still talking about her,” the first guy answers.

Deacon’s focus shifts completely, turning to face them. They’re close to your age and attractive, but what bothers him most is how easily they discuss their attraction to you.

“If you suggest a ‘first one to get a date with her’ bet, I’m out.”

“I was thinking more we see whose pickup line lands better, then we let her choose. She’s not a prize, she’s a person.”

Yet you’re planning to use her as an object in a bet, Deacon thinks.

“Were you at the range yesterday afternoon? She was there. I can’t believe how good she is. 20 David is lucky.”

“For more reasons than one.”

Deacon clenches his jaw as they walk away, still comparing what they've seen of your shooting and fighting skills. He watches you in awe, too, but they have a shot to get close to you.

“Focus,” he whispers to himself, facing the computer.

“Hey, Deac,” you call as you enter. “Hondo wanted to know if you found the property record? Although, I’m still arguing that this is a waste of your talents.”

You stop beside him, leaning against the desk and smiling at him.

“Uh, yeah,” Deacon answers, trying to look anywhere but at your beautiful eyes. “I got it.”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m great. Let’s go.”

You nod slowly before following him out. Two men call your name, and you look over, tilting your head as they beckon you over.

“I’ll be right there, Deac,” you tell him, tapping his shoulder twice.

He nods, watching silently as you walk to them. They smile as they say something quiet enough that he can’t hear. There’s a small smile on your face, and Deacon thinks you’re introducing yourself.

Pointless, he thinks, they know more about you than they should. Not as much as me, though.

The thought catches Deacon off guard, and when he looks back up, the taller officer is openly flirting with you. You laugh and push a stray piece of hair behind your ear. Deacon missed his chance. He walks away while you continue smiling at them, seemingly enjoying their flirtations.

✯✯✯✯✯

You’re uncomfortable; these officers are 1) flirting with you while you’re still working and 2) way too young and immature for you. Forcing a laugh and moving your hand to your hair nervously, you glance over and only see Deacon’s back as he leaves.

“Well, I’ve got to go,” you blurt out, interrupting the worst pickup line you’ve ever heard, “but it was nice to meet you.”

“Oh, okay. We’ll see you around?” one asks.

“I’m sure we will, we work in the same building,” you answer before realizing that it sounds a little too much like an invitation to come talk to you again.

Rushing to follow Deacon, you enter an office behind him, and Hondo immediately starts talking. You stand by Deacon, but he doesn’t look over and roll his eyes at Hondo’s bad analogies like usual. Fiddling with your fingers, you try to focus but wonder what happened. He could have a lot on his mind, or maybe you did something wrong. You decide to give it some time and hope that it passes.

20 David spends the afternoon training, and when you get in the ring with Deacon, you expect it to go as usual. Typically, you throw a few punches and have to beg Deacon to fight back and make it fair. However, today, Deacon has no problem immediately giving you a full-force hit. You step back and catch yourself before returning the hit. You lose the sparring round, and Deacon climbs out without a glance in your direction.

When you see him later while preparing to go home for the night, you stay quiet. Part of you hopes he’ll yell at you or something - anything to acknowledge you, but nothing happens.

“Goodnight,” you say as Deacon leaves the locker room.

He nods without looking at you. Your heart feels like it’s in pieces on the locker room floor, and you take a deep breath before gathering your things to go home.

“Heading out?” Luca asks as he walks in. You nod, and he adds, “We’re going out for a little bit, want to come?”

“No thanks,” you say quietly, closing your locker gently. “See you tomorrow.”

Street opens the door from the other side and holds it, his smile falling as you duck your head and rush past him.

“What happened?” he asks Luca.

“Deacon,” he answers.

“Want to tell me why Deacon is slamming doors?” Hondo asks when Luca and Street exit.

“Is it just Deacon?” Luca asks knowingly.

“Should we do something now? That distance isn’t safe in the field and if she’s nervous around him…” Street trails off.

“We may have to. She’s not the only emotional one, though. Deac looked a little green on his way out,” Hondo responds.

“What now?”

“Let’s see how tomorrow goes. We have the gala tomorrow night, so something needs to happen. And soon.”

✯✯✯✯✯

 Sitting on your couch, you replay every event of the day. Obviously, you did something wrong, which is why Deacon is so eager for space between you. The only ‘bad’ thing that happened before he changed was the officers flirting with you, but you were still on time, so you didn’t do anything wrong.

If Deacon wants space, you’ll give it to him. It’s the least you can do.

The garment bag in your bathroom catches your attention, and you cross your fingers that the gala is enjoyable and not an evening spent avoiding and being avoided by the one man you’d like to dance with.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Hey, brother, you clean up nice,” Hondo taunts as Deacon approaches.

“You don’t look half bad yourself,” Deacon replies, a small smile tugging at his lips. He glances around but doesn’t find what, or who, he’s looking for.

“She’s not here yet,” Street says.

“What?”

Hondo shakes his head, and Street takes his cue, excusing himself to let Hondo and Deacon talk.

“What happened between you two?” he inquires.

“Me and Street?”

Hondo rolls his eyes before looking pointedly at Deacon. “You’re jealous.”

Deacon’s eyes stray from Hondo, locking on something behind him. Turning his head, Hondo laughs when he sees what is more worthy of his friend’s attention.

✯✯✯✯✯

Stepping into the large ballroom, you barely have time for a full breath before the officers from earlier sidle up to you and begin talking. You smile politely and nod, not listening to what they’re saying, as you scan the venue for Deacon. When you find him, he’s standing beside Hondo. Hondo steps away, and Deacon’s eyes lock on yours, his brown eyes wide as his jaw clenches. The eye contact doesn’t last long; Deacon turns his back to you and disappears into the crowd. Your heart and smile fall, so the men surrounding you switch tactics, openly complimenting you, though most of it doesn’t affect you in the slightest.

“Excuse me,” you mutter quietly, pushing between them to follow Deacon.

You deserve an explanation, and you’re going to get one. It takes a few minutes, but you find Deacon standing in front of a fireplace in what appears to be a private office off the back hallway.

“Deac?” you ask, wringing your fingers in front of your stomach.

Deacon doesn’t turn around, but he can see you in his mind (not that you ever leave), with your hair styled beautifully, an outfit that flatters you in every way, and glassy eyes and glossy lips. No matter what you’re wearing, street clothes, your uniform, or formal wear for a police gala, you always look perfect to Deacon. Tonight, though, you’re practically begging to be kissed breathless, to be adored, and if he looks at you, he won’t be able to restrain himself.

“What did I do?”

The question presents your insecurity and shyness, which take Deacon back to your first month when you could barely look him in the eye, and your answers had a five-word maximum. He rubs his hand down his face, hearing you shift behind him.

“Please tell me what I did to make you do this,” you plead.

“You didn’t do anything, I’m just working through some things,” he answers carefully, his back to you. “No big deal.”

“If it’s not a big deal then why am I losing you over it?” you snap, your growing anger overpowering your sadness and nervousness.

“You’re not losing me,” Deacon says, sighing.

“It sure feels like it, David.”

You never use his first name, and the moment Deacon hears it, he turns around. He sees you and loses some of his jealousy and anger but says what he needs to anyway.

“I just needed some space to think,” he replies. “Is that wrong?”

“Needing space to think and avoiding me are two different things.”

“I wasn’t ignoring you-“

“Then why did you leave? Why haven’t you said more than fifteen words to me in the last two days?”

“Why didn’t you talk to me at first?” he asks, his voice rising slightly. He regrets the question immediately but can’t apologize before you speak again.

“If this is what talking to you is going to be like from now on, maybe I never should have started,” you admit, dropping your head as tears gather at your waterline.

“You don’t mean that,” Deacon says quietly.

“Just tell me why. Tell me the truth.”

Deacon doesn’t say anything, and you bite your bottom lip as you think. Deacon wants nothing more than to grab your face, tug your lip free, and kiss you until you don’t talk to him, not because he created a rift between you but because he steals your breath. You’re all he’s ever wanted and more, but the idea still terrifies him. The rejection alone could kill him, but having to see you at work would be worse.

“If you want me to join another team or something, tell me,” you demand. “But I deserve to know why you decided I wasn’t worth the lack of space.”

Deacon’s eyes race to find yours. “This is not about your worth,” he answers, anger spilling through. Not at you, though; at himself, at the situation he put you in, and at those officers who have a chance at what he craves most.

“Then why are you acting like you hate being near me?”

“Because I cannot lose another person I love!” he yells.

You freeze, unable to form a reply. Deacon takes a deep breath when he realizes what he confessed. Your silence is worse than yelling at him.

“I’m sorry,” he begins.

“I love you too,” you whisper, a single tear breaking free when you smile. “I’m in love with you.”

Deacon steps forward, closing the physical and emotional gap. Taking your left hand, he raises his to wipe your tears. His hand lingers by your face as you smile up at him.

“I was jealous,” he explains. “Those cops were flirting with you yesterday and you looked happy. They’re closer to your age and you have more in common. It made sense for you to go for them, not me.”

“Deacon, I was uncomfortable, not happy. I turned around to find you and you were gone and then you just kept getting further away. I want you, Deacon Kay. No one else.”

“Care to dance with me?” he asks quietly.

“I’d love to. I’ve been wanting to all week,” you answer.

His smile grows, drawing your attention to his eyes as he leads you back to the ballroom. You don’t see any members of your team as you walk onto the dance floor. Deacon leads, letting you lean on him again, something you missed in the short time it was gone. The song ends, and you straighten, preparing to pull away.

“I want you too,” Deacon says. “But I don’t want to hide it anymore.”

“Then don’t,” you encourage, smiling as you tap his hand twice.

Deacon smiles and pulls his hands from yours, cupping your face and kissing you without hesitation. You slide your hands up his chest to rest under his lapel. Deacon feels your heart race, his thumb against the pulse point below your jaw, but his beats steadily below your hand. With each of Deacon’s movements, more of your breath, more of your life, more of you becomes his.

“Aye, Deac!” Luca yells from the crowd. “Way to go!”

“About time!” Street adds, leading a round of applause from the entire LAPD.

Deacon pulls back from you, smiling when you hide your face against his neck. He sees the flirty cops from earlier awkwardly clapping with the crowd. His hand rubs up and down your back, glad that everyone, you included, knows that you’re his and he is yours.

“Told you,” Hondo teases as he walks to Deacon’s side. “Green ain’t your color.”

“He only means figuratively, you look good in everything,” you mumble against his skin.

“Want to get out of here?” Deacon asks, his hands still on your back as he holds you against him.

“Please,” you reply, tapping his chest twice.

He leads you out, stopping you after you’re outside.

“Why do you tap me twice?” Deacon asks gently, his arm around your waist and his jacket over your shoulders.

“It’s the only way I could tell you without actually saying it,” you say with a shrug.

“Say what?”

“That I love you.”

Deacon smiles, tapping your waist twice as he moves you to stand closer to him.

His lips meet yours again, and when your hands reach his jaw, you’re not sure where you end or Deacon begins, and it’s perfect. Deacon Kay was easy to fall in love with, easy to be in love with, and he was absolutely worth the wait.

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 77 (A Baby and a Surprise!)

Heather went into labour at the tail end of fall. She left work and phoned Conrad, who set aside his casework to meet her at the hospital.

When he arrived, he called Ash on the phone he was too young for - but Nancy had insisted on it. "Hey bud, are you going to be okay at home for a bit? Mrs. Goth's on her way over to hang out until we get back from the hospital, but we might not get home until you're in bed."

"Gord's here; I'm good."

"Just remember to lock the door and don't answer for anyone but Mrs. Goth."

"I know," he said casually. "Are you at the hospital, too? Is mommy okay?"

"She'll be fine, but when we come home we'll be bringing your little brother or sister."

"That's pretty cool." He still didn't completely understand, but everyone around him was happy about it, so Ash was happy, too. "Are you going to get married like Daddy and Miko?"

Conrad paused. "Do you think your mom and I should get married?"

Thoughtful and smart, Ash considered the question. "I don't know what you should do, but sometimes I don't know what to call you."

"What do you mean, buddy? Conrad's just fine."

"I mean at school, when people ask if you're my stepdad."

Conrad gaped. "What do you tell them?"

"I say sort of. Don't people who love each other get married?"

He laughed. "It's about a bit more than that."

"How much more?"

He didn't have an answer. Not for a five-year-old. And maybe, if he really thought about it, he didn't have an answer for himself. But his thoughts were interrupted by some noise on Ash's end of the line. "Mrs. Goth just got here and she wants to teach me to play chess. She won't let me wear my hat! She says it frames my face wrong."

Conrad shook his head with a laugh. "It's not too cold out tonight. Just humour her and try not to beat her too badly once she's taught you how to play."

Ash grumbled playfully. "It's not my fault games are easy."

Conrad hung up and returned his attention to Heather, who sat on the bed doing breathing exercises between contractions. This was her third time in labour and delivery, and Conrad was far more nervous. "What was all that about?" she wondered.

"He asked if we were going to get married like Malcolm and Miko, but now Mrs. Goth has him focused on learning to play chess."

Heather smiled. "Malcolm says he's always asking him and Miko to have a wedding he can be invited to since they eloped without telling anyone. He'd scam all of us for that much wedding cake."

She grimaced as her contractions returned, breathing through them as Conrad felt helpless to soothe her pain. "What can I do?"

"Just be here. And get me ice chips, maybe."

"I can do that."

As Heather's labour progressed, they moved downstairs to a birthing room. Conrad swayed with her between contractions. "Why do you look so...concerned?" she asked.

"I'm not. I was just thinking about what Ash said earlier."

"When he asked if we're getting married?"

"He said he doesn't know what to call me because I'm not technically his stepdad. We know we're a team, and I know what we said after Hazel's wedding, but marriage means more to some people than just the certificate."

"What do you mean?"

"I think I want to get married."

"You think...?"

"Heather Nesbitt, I want to marry you."

"Not today, I hope." She grunted with discomfort. (He never fails to make her flirty but today is the exception, pushing out a human and with a full cache of uncomfortable moodlets drowning out everything else.) "I'm sorry, I love you...I was never the girl who dreamed of planning her wedding. I want to get married. Wait. Are you proposing?"

"You're hanging on a little tight for me to let go to get down on one knee, but whenever and however you want to get married, I'll be there."

She smiled as they swayed. "I was going to say the same to you."

"I am going to tell our friends you're my fiancee now, though."

"I like that."

After another contraction, he helped her back into bed and she looked at him with a serious expression. "Nothing will change once we get married, right? We'll still always be us. We're a team, and we'll always tell each other what we're feeling?"

"Married or not, we're a team." Leaning forward he kissed her head, gently caressing her hands with his own. "I'm with you forever. You, me, Ash, and this wild one right here. I love you."

"Are you two teammates ready to push?" Dr. Serra interrupted their quiet moment with a smile. "You should be fully dilated now."

"I'm so ready to get this baby out of me, Dr. Serra. If they kick me one more time I might explode from the inside out."

After one final exam, Dr. Serra nodded. "It's time."

Heather laboured with Conrad by her side. In the early hours of the morning, Dr. Serra announced he could see the head. "It won't be long now, Heather. Just keep pushing."

Conrad held her while she worked to bring their child into the world. "You're the strongest woman I know," he assured her. "The baby's almost here."

"The shoulders are out, Heather. One more big push."

Heather complied with a grimace, and her efforts were met with the wailing cries of a healthy infant.

"Congratulations, you guys. It's a..." Dr. Serra paused for dramatic effect as he passed the infant to Heather's waiting arms. "...Girl! You have a daughter!"

Heather smiled, holding their baby girl against her chest as Conrad looked on in awe. Ten fingers, ten toes, and a healthy set of lungs - little Lavender Helena Gordon was finally here!

With winter just around the corner, how would the Nesbitt-Gordon household adjust as a family of four (+ 4 pets)? ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start

NOTE: I didn't plan their engagement at all. They did this entirely on their own and this is the stuff I live for with this game. After Heather went into labour, Ash got a text from Conrad, and it was the whole 'I found a ring, what should I say?' advice cycle. And since it's technically against the rules for them to get married, I could have said no. I wanted to say yes! And after Ash was so supportive of Malcolm and Miko, and with how much he loves Conrad, I couldn't bear for him to be the one to say no. So I split the difference and said 'decide for yourself.'

Without skipping a beat, Heather and Conrad decided for themselves to get engaged! This isn't in the challenge rules, but they wanted this, I definitely wanted this, and I think we all wanted this! And I loved so much that Conrad asked Ash. Their bond is so deep. He's been in Ash's life since before he was two, which really isn't that much less time than Malcolm, since Ash's bio-dad skipped the first year of his life being a dick.

There was the issue that Heather wouldn't propose, but technically Conrad didn't propose, either. She's so unflirty and content as things stand, and even though this engagement was autonomous and that's everything, it didn't come with any animations. So since it all went down while Heather was in labour, I reshot everything in a second save and gave the very important moment the storyline it definitely deserved. (This also explains why they're in many different hospital rooms and beds while in labour but shhhh! It's an illusion, it's all happening at the same time!)

NOTE 2: All the poses used for this post are from the New Life pose pack by @eclypt0sims, which I think is spectacular! But I don't know how to use toddler sliders, so it's angles to disguise that there's no baby in those shots. But there could be if you have skills!

[shitsndgiggs]

Hey there,

I don't know if you take requests but i just found your page and i love your Arda x Reader stories....

Would you maybe consider writing a story with a jealous and protective Arda? Just if you take requests right know of course😊

Have a nice day ♥️

JEALOUS, JEALOUS BOY - ARDA GÜLER

Arda gets jealous when a fans is too touchy

Arda Güler x fem! reader

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

The golden sands of the beach stretched endlessly, meeting the crystal blue waters of the ocean. It was the perfect vacation spot, a much-needed break for both Arda and me.

We had found a quiet spot away from the more crowded areas, hoping to enjoy some peace and solitude.

I was lounging on a beach towel, the warm sun kissing my skin, while Arda was wading in the shallow waters, enjoying the cool waves.

It was a perfect day until a group of young fans, around our age, recognized Arda and approached us.

"Arda! Can we get a picture with you?" one of them called out, excitement evident in their voice.

Arda glanced at me, and I gave him a reassuring smile. "Go ahead," I said. "I'll be right here."

He nodded and walked over to them, posing for pictures and signing autographs. I watched from my spot, feeling proud of him. It was always heartwarming to see how much his fans admired him.

After a few minutes, a couple of the fans approached me. "Hey, you're with Arda, right? Can we take a picture with you too?" one of them asked, their eyes glancing appreciatively at my bikini-clad figure.

I was a bit surprised but agreed with a friendly smile. "Sure, why not?"

As I stood up, one of the fans wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me closer for the picture. I thought nothing of it, assuming it was just for the sake of the photo.

However, I noticed Arda's expression change. His eyes darkened slightly, and his jaw tensed.

Arda finished with his group of fans and made his way back to me, his steps a bit more hurried than usual.

He gently but firmly placed his hand on my shoulder, pulling me slightly away from the lingering fan. "Alright, I think that's enough for now," he said, his voice calm but with an unmistakable edge.

The fans seemed to sense the shift in his mood and quickly thanked us before leaving. I turned to Arda, puzzled. "What was that about?"

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "You didn't notice, did you?"

"Notice what?" I asked, genuinely confused.

He looked at me, his expression softening slightly. "They were a bit too... touchy. Especially that guy with his hand on your waist."

I blinked, replaying the interaction in my mind. "Oh... I didn't realize. I thought they were just being friendly."

Arda's protectiveness was endearing, and I stepped closer to him, placing a hand on his chest. "I'm sorry if it made you uncomfortable."

He wrapped an arm around my shoulders, pulling me close. "I just don't like the idea of anyone else getting too close to you."

I smiled up at him, appreciating his honesty. "I understand. But you don't have to worry. I'm all yours."

He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. "And I'm all yours," he murmured, his voice filled with warmth.

We spent the rest of the day relaxing on the beach, Arda's mood lightening as we talked and laughed together.

The incident with the fans was forgotten, replaced by the joy of being in each other's company.

As the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the ocean, I looked at Arda, feeling grateful for his presence in my life. "Thank you for always looking out for me," I said softly.

He smiled, his eyes reflecting the warmth of the sunset. "Always," he replied, pulling me into a gentle embrace.

[mishy-mashy]

3 reasons I can think of, for why the first Three vestiges were too hard to find information on

[Reason 1]

The time they were born in.

Their births, and any records of them, could just be completely undocumented or non-existent.

They were born in times where systems and governments were down, and it's everyone for themselves.

People aren't going to register their existence, especially the Metas, when they all want to stay under the radar and hide from everyone else.

If you're in the middle of a war zone that spread to where you live, and your baby brother was just born, are you really going to go [Oh no! I have to register his birth for that sweet sweet child tax!]?

Or something like that. But still.

There are more important things, like survival, than registering a baby's birth and going through hospital paperwork. And it's been explicitly stated that the first appearance of Abilities caused a Great Depression all over Japan.

The government is gone. There's no point in registering anything anymore.

Yoichi was literally born at a riverside, and never went to a hospital. By the time the first Three are toddlers / young children, Japan is already chaos and up in flames.

Children are actively avoided because they're the most likely to be Meta Humans. No one wants anything to do with them.

Chances are, the records about the first Three never existed, or were destroyed in all the strife.

Or maybe, if some did exist, Kudo destroyed them. I can see him doing that, to protect themselves from AFO or anyone else having the chance to track their personal histories down.

It makes them ghosts. Exactly what would be best for not only their own survival, but anyone affiliated with them. Like family. It makes them untraceable, and invisible to bodies of old authority.

[Reason 2]

The three were a part of the Resistance. They could've kept information about themselves under lock and key, to protect themselves.

Like how Kudo is referred to as Leader, and never by his real name. Even in the void, up to the very end, Bruce still says "Leader" to address him.

I actually HC them as using codenames in the Resistance, exactly to protect themselves from each other, and outsiders. This makes Yoichi an anomaly among them, for going by his real name. Meanwhile,

Leader, Boss = their leader

Bruce = a reference to his Quirk

Codenames about their Meta Abilities, or roles in their cause, to better remember whose nickname belonged to who.

Outsiders won't know the Resistance members' real names. The Resistance can't betray each other by selling each other out for personal information as easily, if no one knows each other's actual names.

At the same time, this alienates them from who they are, and their humanity. They have to make tough choices that would classify them as monsters. And they're locking themselves under a false name.

They're protecting themselves from everything and everyone, including themselves. At least the person committing all these atrocities is [CODENAME], not me.

[Reason 3]

Bruce, when he was supposed to pass previous information to Shinomori, couldn't.

Maybe he didn't have enough time to tell Shinomori the whole story.

Or maybe he did, and passed on the previous holders' histories, but Shinomori didn't pass those on himself.

Or maybe reminiscing Yoichi and Leader as actual people just broke him, and he could only stick to the bare minimum of the history of this Factor.

Notably, the OFA story is known as "All For One's younger brother was sickly and frail, but he had a strong sense of justice."

We never, ever hear Yoichi's name in the spoken history of OFA. All Might couldn't even get their names. And since AFO hides himself so easily, and birth records just don't exist for him as an undocumented birth, Yoichi legally doesn't exist even as a birth.

Bruce is the first one to find the existence of Yoichi's "unformed dud". The Factor that let him pass on his current Quirk to others. How could the information of that dud be passed on, if not from Bruce?

Somewhere, the information breaks during Bruce or Shinomori's turn with OFA.

Bruce never passed on their names. Or maybe Shinomori didn't. But their names weren't necessary to pass on anymore. All Might only managed to dredge what he could, starting from the time society started trying to stand on its feet. Exactly because that's as far as the records went.

[Reason 2] could add credence to why the first Three's names were never passed on. Bruce could've kept quiet about Yoichi and Leader's personal details, not just to help himself stay together, but to protect anything they might've left behind.

[solar-wing]

⚣ Remember 🥷🏻

⚣🥷🏻A/N → This was a bit of a challenge for me for some reason. Maybe it's because we still don't know how exactly Jason died or what he was like when he was on the team so I had to go off what we know about Jason already. Plus, the fact that he doesn't have his memories really got my creative juices flowing. I did not proofread thus like the others cause I'm trying to focus on finishing my other fics. Also, here it is again for you @acoustickitten Anyways... WARNINGS: Emotion & Angst, Mentions of Death, NSFW warnings included on Patreon NSFW Version Here👈🏽

⚣🥷🏻Summary → When Jason died, your world fell apart. You and he had a special bond that you didn't share with anyone else on the team. So, when the chance to be reunited with him came as an invitation to Ra's Ah Ghul's island, you quickly took the chance to be with your old teammate, friend, and crush. Only you didn't expect to find him different than you remembered.

⚣🥷🏻Words → 4.2k

REBLOGS and replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💛

⚣ ENJOY 🥷🏻

You were so glad you hadn’t given up.

When your previous team appeared on Infinity Island to rescue their friends, the Red Hooded Ninja battled with Nightwing, your old leader and friend. Ra’s ordered you to stay out of sight, as he didn’t want your former teammates to know you were here yet. Your mission was too important for them and yourself. So, you watched from one of the windows as your friends fought with your League allies.

Back in 2013, you had been recruited to the team by the Justice League when they discovered you on the streets of your city fighting crime with your meta-abilities. You could see into and read people’s thoughts, much like Miss Martian. Except your powers seemed to be stronger, seeing that you had the ability to control and enter someone’s mind at will and manipulate their thoughts. Along with flight force-field manipulations, you were quite the adversary. So when Batman, Captain Marvel/Shazam, and Black Canary showed up one day to offer you the chance to use your powers in a team environment, you figured, why not?

You were alone, having lost your family at a young age, and your adoptive family wasn’t much better, seeing you and your abilities as freaky. They just wanted to get whatever money they could off of you. So you accepted their offer and took on the mantle of ‘Psicon.’ Besides, living in the Cave was awesome. The Team was way more welcoming, and you felt like a part of a family for the first time, growing a special relationship with one of the members, Jason Todd, aka Robin.

Both of you and Jason had similar backgrounds and connected from that. The team often joked that the saying was true opposites attracted because you two couldn’t be more different from each other. Strong in your own rights, you were reserved, while he was outgoing. You thought with a slow, calculative mind, and he was impulsive. You were no pushover, but you mostly kept your thoughts to yourself, whereas he was very outspoken.

But, you found joy in your differences with each other. You shared similar interests and grew a strong bond. Over time, your feelings became less platonic and more romantic, which your friends loved to tease you for. Dick, Kid Flash, aka Wally, and Artemis mainly, before the latter two left the team for college. 

You hadn’t known if Jason felt the same towards you, but Dick encouraged you since the two had a special relationship, both being Batman’s sidekicks and sharing the mantle of Robin. Not at the same time, of course. When Dick picked up the mantle of Nightwing, Jason had become the new Robin.

You were planning to confess your feelings to Jason but never got the chance. 

A mission you weren’t on had gone left, and though you never found out what had went wrong, it didn’t take a genius to figure out what happened when everyone had returned except for Jason. Dick tried to comfort you as he felt your pain, along with Batman, but it did little to help. You were heartbroken. 

Jason was the only one who knew your history, as you hadn’t told anyone else. He knew some of your deepest secrets and insecurities had helped you through dark moments, and now he was gone. And it wasn’t just for you, as your friends and teammates had noticed your impact on him.

Maybe that’s why some had joked about how Jason held a soft spot for you. He was always nice to you, of course. But, he always had a level of sass and bluntness he’d give others but never towards you. Your friends, even Bruce, had mentioned how they saw that you’d tapped into a more gentle side of Jason none of them ever could see or would be allowed to see, at least.

So, no. Dick couldn’t understand where your pain. No one could. 

After that, a distance grew between you and the team since everyone refused to tell you what had happened. Then, in 2015 a little over a year later, Batman recruited a new Robin, Tim Drake, and you had fucking lost it at that point.

Furious at Bruce and Dick for being so willing to replace Jason, you went off on them, feeling they had dishonored him. Your teammates tried to calm you down, but your fury had been on a different level none of them had seen before. Even Conner was unsettled at the rage spilling off you, being considered the literal definition of anger issues himself. It was safe to say you had no relationship with Tim. While you weren’t hostile or bitter towards him, you had no incentive or want to build a friendship.

At some point, you received a mysterious envelope. Where it came from, you didn’t know, but what was inside it had your attention immediately. It was a letter asking for your aid in an important matter. And whoever wrote it apparently had particular need of your ‘talents.’ You were prepared to ignore it until you saw another note inside, only it wasn’t a note at all. It was a picture, a recent one.

Jason.

He was alive. You could tell cause he looked a bit older than the last time you saw him. Though, just by looking at the picture, you could see something was off. That usual egotistic but confident spark you always noticed in his eyes wasn’t there. Both the corners of his mouth were straight instead of one side upturned up a bit, leaving him with his natural smirk. 

In truth, his blank gaze at the camera caused an unsettled chill to go through you. It was as if you were looking at a ghost of Jason instead of an alive one.

But it was him.

He was alive somewhere, and after so long of only feeling hollow and numb where your heart should be, you felt it stirring in your chest again.

You didn’t know if the others knew, and you weren’t planning on telling them. You’d contemplated leaving the team for some time, and Tim’s recent addition only made that decision easier for you. So the next day, when everyone was asleep, you packed your clothes and disappeared that night, not saying goodbye to anyone.

That’s how you ended up with the League of Shadows and the Al-Ghul family on their island. When you saw Jason for the first time, you wanted to run to him, hug him, and sob into his shoulder. Part of you didn’t believe he was alive, needing hard proof of living flesh in front of your eyes. Truly enough, even looking at him, your mind still couldn’t believe he was there. He still had that strange blank look on his face, though. When you first entered the room, he stared at you, which creeped you out even more now that it was in person.

You found out Ra’s and his family were the ones who recovered Jason’s body and had used the infamous Lazarus Pits to revive him, and while the pit’s healing and life-restoring abilities did that, there were consequences. He explained that the Pit tampered with Jason’s mind, sending him into a feral and almost animalistic state, and though they tamed him, his mind was scattered, and memories were gone.

That’s where you came in. Your telepathic abilities had been recognized exceptionally for their strength, surpassing M’Gann’s powers. With your ability to enter and manipulate minds, Ra’s suspected you could restore Jason’s memories, bringing him back to himself.

At first, you were unsure since you didn’t know the consequences that could come if you tampered with his thoughts. When you’d voiced these concerns, Jason had turned his head to you, a curious gaze replacing his blank expression. Ra’s and Talia observed, speechless as he made his way to you, head tilting in confusion as he stared into your eyes. You didn’t move, watching his hand come up to your face and one of his fingers slowly caressing down your cheek.

“Psi…con.”

It was your turn to be speechless. You felt tears come to your eyes and shut them, attempting to hold yourself together. It was too much. Clenching your fists at your side, you choked on a gasp as you forced yourself not to cry. Even Talia felt a bit emotional at the sight of your grief, though she didn’t show it, remaining poised as ever.

“Ah, it would seem your presence has already triggered a spark in his mind. You two must have had a significant connection for him to recall your name.” Ra’s pointed out, eyeing you with an intrigued look.

It didn’t take much convincing after that.

“I’ll do it.” You stated with no hesitation in your voice.

That same smile Ra’s held when you agreed was the same one on his face now in 2019 as you and Talia holding baby Damian had come out just in time to see the Bio-Ship flying off to hear Jason uttering “Gray…son” in a slow, and almost zombie-like speech.

You had begun to lose hope. Jason, now the Sensei’s Red-Hooded Ninja, was trained as a guard and protector. He was no longer of a feral and animalistic sense of mind but more of a living, mindless zombie, understanding and taking directions well. However, the sessions he had with you were not making much progress. 

Every time you’d gotten close to having a breakthrough or found what you thought was a crack in the haze around his mind when working, you got shut out. It was as if something was trying to keep you from getting to Jason’s inner mind and releasing his memories, and you didn’t think there would be much you could do anymore, as nothing seemed to be working.

So, expectedly, you felt your heart pause and your body still when you heard him. Barely feeling like you could move, tears had once again come to your eyes at hearing the first word in the four years you’d worked in healing Jason’s mind.

“Ah, your memory is finally returning. Excellent.” Ra’s said before he turned in your direction, nodding for you to come to his side. “Your work is starting to pay off. I’m aware of your frustrations in this quest, but tonight has proven your efforts are not in vain. I want you to continue your sessions more frequently. This could be the start of him fully regaining his mind.” You nodded your head before turning back to walk inside, Jason trailing behind you from Ra’s order.

He followed you to your room, where you went inside and rummaged through your drawers before finding the desired items. You turned to see him standing in the middle of the room, the red glow from his robotic eye mask bright in the moonlight from your window.

“Please, sit.” You asked.

In your sessions with him, you always spoke with a gentle tone. You didn’t want to command or order him around like the others. You communicated with Jason as you always had before, hoping it’d bring familiarity and comfort. Over time, it seemed to work. Jason notably sought you out whenever something distressed him. For whatever reason unbeknownst to you, this had pleased Ra’s.

Even if you were having little success restoring Jason’s mind, Ra’s had noted that while everyone else had Jason’s obedience, you held something more precious, his loyalty and trust.

Tonight, you hoped you’d found what you needed to achieve that first and ultimate objective. When your old teammates showed up, and you watched Nightwing and Jason battle, it reminded you of the old days before he had died. You three goofing around in the control room during sparring and training.

After hearing him utter Nightwing’s name and thinking back to the first time he uttered your old superhero name, it hit you like a ton of bricks. 

Those moments were all triggers for Jason. Things that evoked emotion and nostalgia from him, like when someone smells a dish their grandparent used to make when they were a kid or hearing a song that reminded them of a special moment. 

It made you remember a comment Jason once made about how when you talked, it calmed him. He said how he found your voice relaxing and that he could just listen to you speak about whatever, and it would bring him peace. Not really knowing what he meant by it, you remembered very well how it made you feel and how it still makes you to this day.

Thinking back to the night you came to the island, you realized Jason hearing your voice had been his first trigger, which helped him remember your retired name. Fighting with Dick brought back the nostalgic feeling of when he used to spar with him in the control room, helping him remember his name.

So, you intended to create more triggers. Whatever prevented you from fully accessing Jason’s mind and releasing his memories was obviously weak to emotional pulls. Those pulls could come from anything that held a feeling of significance or nostalgia in his memories.

Grabbing what you needed, you joined Jason on the ground, crossing your legs before placing everything in front of him. You had a small collection of Jason’s things he’d given you or stuff you had borrowed from him and forgotten to give back. You had some of his favorite books, old batarangs, and even one of his eye masks from his Robin costume.

He looked at everything on the ground, picking some things up and observing them before placing them back down.

You’d tried this tactic before, but with your discovery, you figured maybe there was something you needed to do or say to help spark something. Jason thumbed through some books and messed with the Batarang a little, but you had to be careful since you weren’t sure if it was one of the ones that could explode.

When he picked up the eye mask from the Robin costume, his head tilted while looking at it before turning to you and holding it between his hands, making you grin at his adorable confusion.

“It’s your old mask. It goes over your eyes. Here, I’ll show you.” You explained, holding your hand out, allowing him to place it in your hand.

You brought it up to your face and put it on before showing him, “See? Like the one you have on, it goes over your eyes.” You said.

Jason stared back at you before he looked down and pointed at the space next to you. Realizing what he was asking, you nodded, “Yeah, you can sit next to me.” You expressed, patting the spot next to you

He got up before moving to the spot and placed himself back down before turning to look at having to tilt his head down slightly. He pointed to the mask on your face, silently asking for it. When you took it off and handed it to him, he just looked down at it, turning it to study it from all different directions.

“Do you want me to help you put it on?” You offered.

He turned his head to you, that glowing robotic mask staring at you before you saw him slowly nod. Turning your body to face him a bit more, you reached your hands up slowly, “May I?” You asked, referring to his current eyewear.

He paused for a moment before nodding. Gently placing your hands on the sides of his head, you grabbed the mask and lifted it from his face, able to see his blue-green eyes, taking time to enjoy them since it was rare you ever got to see them. He rarely removed his mask, and only when you were doing intensive work with your telepathic powers on him did he sometimes remove it.

You were caught in his gaze as well as he was with yours. For a moment, it felt like you were back in 2013 before everything had gone wrong, and it was just you and Jason, staying up at night talking about anything and everything that came to your mind. The memories brought some tears to your eyes, and you were shocked to feel a finger come up to one of them. Jason was looking down at you, and though he mostly still held a blank expression, you could see underneath a bit of concern etched into his gaze.

“I’m okay.” You assured, or at least attempted to.

Wiping your eyes with the sleeves of your robes, you gave him a quick smile, which seemed to relax him. You hadn’t even noticed he was tense.

He turned back to look at the mask before slowly placing it on his face. A bit smaller now since he’s grown, it was like you were looking at him as the day you last saw him. You loved how his hair was still slightly curled over his forehead with the mask, not being able to notice it as much when he wore his ninja hood.

You raised your hand slowly to his face, pressing your palm against his ear. Whether or not he snuggled into your hand was totally not important and did not cause swooning in your gut.

Alright, you’re a liar. But you’ve been through a lot these past few years. You’re allowed to have this moment.

“Okay, Jason. We’re going to do what we do in every single session. But, this time. I’m going to project some of my memories into you. Is that okay?” You asked. Consent is key.

He nodded his head after a moment, training his eyes on you as you closed yours. He kept focusing on you while you channeled your memories into your hands to pass on to him. Eventually, he closed his eyes, welcoming your power into his head.

There were flashes of different moments from your past, all relating to you and him. Some were moments of you guys training together in the sparring room with Dick. There were times of you two together on missions, and one particular memory when Jason’s big mouth got you both into a less-than-desirable situation once again. But he managed to get you out of the sticky mess by using said big mouth again. That memory always brought a smile to your face. You remembered being so mad at him and then laughing at it like madmen when you returned to the Cave.

In each of these memories, Jason was wearing the mask. It was a part of his identity. Not just as Robin, Batman’s sidekick, but as Jason Todd. The boy who just wanted someone to care about him.

Suddenly, your head flooded with more memories, some you recognized as not your own. In your physical body, you could feel Jason tensing in front of you, shouting out in pain. It was working!

You managed to unlock part of Jason’s memories. Concentrating, you could see some of these moments from his past. And to your shock, they all seemed to involve—you. You saw the first day you’d met the team and Jason for the first time. You’d thought he was an obnoxious little twat, emphasis on the little since you were taller than him at that point, and you had voiced this thought as well. Over time, he caught up with you. And now, he’s got a few inches over you.

“Did this nobody just call me a little twat?”

That wasn’t your voice, nor was it your words. You did call Jason a twat that day, but you’d never call yourself a nobody.

You caught another memory of when you and he were with the team fighting against Dr. Ivo and Amazo. That fight left many bruises on your body since Ivo had decided to make some upgrades. When Amazo managed to get your powers and use them against you, it’d trapped you in your thoughts, torturing you with some of your worst memories. Jason pulled out of there while the others had managed to distract it long enough and eventually take it down. He’d overheard some of what you were crying out about and decided not to push.

When you had returned to the Cave, Jason followed you outside to get some air and think for a moment. You had warmed up to each other a little, and Jason had started telling you about his background and how he came to be Batman’s sidekick. After some contemplation, you told him about your past and how the Justice League found you. He had made a joke saying all you needed was the staircase and a letter from a white owl, and you could be the next Harry Potter.

You punched him in the arm for that joke,

“Hmm, kid’s not as bad as I thought he was. Packs a punch too.”

It took you a minute to realize, but you eventually got it.

These were Jason’s thoughts from those memories you were witnessing, his own inner dialogue. It was interesting to see some of the moments he found precious, things you had never even thought about before or remembered at the very least. And now, you were hearing it from his point of view. You used to always make a joke with him that you’d pay big money to know what he was thinking about sometimes.

“If he knew what I was thinking, I’m sure he’d either smack me or punch me, maybe both. Wouldn’t do anything except make him hotter.”

Pardon? Can we rewind that last part?

Did Jason call you hot? Like hot, as in attractive hot? Or, hot as in, ‘Ah! This bitch is burning. Get them away from me,’ hot?

Looking at Jason’s other memories with you, you could also feel some of his emotions from those precise moments. You felt annoyance from earlier thoughts, typically around the earlier parts of your relationship. Amusement at times when you and he would get into a silly argument. Or when you went on one of your excited rants about something. The further you got along in his mind, the more you felt his feelings change, becoming more intense. Curiosity turning into fondness. Admiration becomes the urge to protect.

A particular memory had caught your mental attention. One that you recognized was about a week before the mission that would ultimately lead to the end of Jason’s life. Dick and Jason were at their house, Wayne Manor, and they were talking while working in the Batcave.

“So, how’s everything between you and Zatanna?” Jason asked while practicing his kicks and punches on one of the training dummies.

“It’s good. She’s still a little upset over Nabu’s refusal to release her father’s body for no more than an hour, but she makes do with it.” Dick said, turning to face him from whatever he was doing on the Bat-Computer.

Things had gone quiet for a moment, Dick looking a little smug before he spoke up, “So, you and Y/N?” He smirked.

You felt a clench in your chest and didn’t know if that came from Jason or yourself.

“Shut up,” Jason said.

“I’m just saying, you two seemed to have gotten really close over the last few months. You’re actually considerate and somewhat respectful when you’re around him too.” Dick commented.

“Fuck you, and again. Shut up.” Jason responded.

Somehow, you could feel the small smile that formed on his face.

“You want my advice—”

“No.”

“Tell him how you feel and ask him out,” Dick continued, ignoring Jason. “And I’d do it soon. You didn’t hear this from me, but I’ve heard someone else on the team has eyes for Y/N too. So, if I were you, I’d hurry up and take my chances. You never know how long you have until it’s too late.”

An unpleasant toil in your stomach blossomed at that sentence, but you felt curiosity at the same time. You just didn't know if one or both feelings belonged to you or Jason. You did wonder who harbored feelings for you on the team though.

You couldn’t dwell on it any longer though when you were tackled to the ground, forced back to reality. Opening your eyes, you saw Jason on top of you, looking at you with another feral look, only it wasn’t the same as the one he had when you first arrived on the island. This one was wild but in an attractive way. His sea-like colored eyes staring back at you but with a darker look. It had you on edge but also ☀️feeling very hot with how he pinned your arms to the ground.

“I… l-lo– love … y-you.”

Your entire body froze as his head fell against your shoulder. Feeling his chest move against push against your back with his breathing, you could only turn your head slightly to stare at his before he turned to face you. The dark haze in his eyes was now gone, and his blue-green ears were staring back at you with the same adoration you’d always seen before whenever he looked your way.

He remembered you.

☀️ | DC Masterlist | ☀️

☀️ } Masterlists | ☀️

[absolutebl]

This Week in BL - It's 2024 & I'm talking about TayNew... really?

(They pretty much told us all to sit down and shut tf up, 'cause they got this. AND THEY DO.)

Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

Feb 2024 Wk 3

Ongoing Series - Thai

Cherry Magic (Sat YouTube grey) ep 9 of 12 - I broke. In my defense, it was Monday, I needed comfort, and TayNew were right tf there. Ya know what? They are great in this show. It's a great adaptation. I might like it more than the JBL live action. You know why? Really, honestly WHY...?

That was a PHENOMENAL KISS. Those boys did Thailand fucking proud. They did fandom a solid. Thank you OGs for reminding us how it's done. I was getting used to SloppyHot. And SloppyHot has its place, but that TayNew rooftop kiss was a top tear class act. It was tender and sweet and respectful and joyful. It was eye work and breath work and years of practice. How very far BL has come while still staying so much the same. TayNew - I salute you!

(Read all about distribution issues here.)

The Sign (Sat YT) ep 12fin - we waiting, I guess? Bah.

Cooking Crush (Sun YT) ep 11 of 12 - The recipe book thing was so damn cute and I love a claiming. YOU KNOW I LOVE A CLAIMING!

In fact, I love OffGun.

I love food based BL.

I adored seeing a reboot of "the infamous dragging". 

But I don’t love anything else about this show. Sigh.

1000 Years Old ep 1 of 12 - Finally we get our gay vampire BL from Feel Good Bangkok. Stars Shane (My Engineer) and fresh face Opal, directed by Champ (2gether). It’s kind of odd but enjoyable. A group of teen UFO seekers find a vampire instead. Opal looks a bit like a mix between Newnu + Leo (VIXX) - so cute + edge. Also, nice to see Shane again on our screens after so long. 

Finally, I like the subtle (and sometimes not subtle) presence of ghosts permeating this show. Do the friends know she's there? Do they know she's dead? Is the existence of paranormal accepted but not that of aliens? Or are the two combined? Is this lazy writing or just fun world building? Who cares! It's enjoyable.

For Him (Thurs iQIYI) ep 12fin - the nail painting bit was very cutie queers and I've not seen it done in BL before, so that was nice. For some reason captions never dropped for me on this last episode, but it didn’t really matter. Not much happened and I understood everything anyway.

Quick pitch?

From the people who brought us Unforgotten Night based on a y-novel, about a young man nursing a heartbreak who has a one-night stand, but the other boy didn't want it to end. This turned out to be a pulp that wasn’t half as good as it should have been and even less memorable, but not terrible. 5/10 DON'T BOTHER unless you're v bored

City of Stars (Fri iQIYI) ep 3 of 12 - Oh it is such a pulp: the acting is not good and the script is terrible. Of course, I’m mildly enjoying it. Very good dream kissing. There's something appealing about these main characters - I think it's the moot crushes. We rarely get to see that. These days everything feels very one sided, this... isn't.

A Secretly Love (Thai WeTV) - Khonprot, a third-year hazer of the engineering faculty, has a secret crush on Pluem, a tsundere fourth-year head hazer. Over the years, he's seen Pluem cycle through girlfriends. Recently, after a public breakup, however, Khonprot thinks maybe a boy has a chance.

I tried but I can't get into my WeTV account anymore and I'm way too lazy to figure it out. I'll catch it grey if I can, since I've rebooted the bootlegging side of my BL life for Cherry Magic anyway.

So this show may stay in this section, or I may bump it down to "it's airing but..."

If anyone is watching it, let me know if it's good?

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

Love For Love's Sake (Korea Weds iQIYI) 7-8fin - Ugh it was GREAT, despite some pretty telling flaws. I ended up feeling like some of the filming was amateurish (very overworked low angles - director's first feature, I assume), and the narrative is a little disjoined and on the nose, AND the subs are clumsy (which I don't expect from KBL) BUT I still loved it. (FYI - I wouldn't be so harsh on a BL for this kinda thing except one from Korea.)

Quick pitch:

This isekai-based KBL is about a man who must win a game by convincing a reserved teen outcast to fall in love with him. Of course, that teen represents himself and his own unhappiness. Like many queer narratives, this show is actually about self worth, trust, and found family, and it is VERY on the nose. But I don’t expect subtlety from my BL and I enjoyed it's truly lovely redemption arc and earnest performances. While I found the narrative a touch disjointed with overworked filming angles and poorer than average captions, this is certainly much better than early KBL in terms of consistency of tone, script, and immersion. Highly rewatchable and charming, which counts for a lot. 9/10

Trigger warning for suicide depicted.

Perfect Propose (Japan Fri Gaga) ep 4 of 6 - Gosh, it’s so lovely. But I do just constantly want to give them both hugs. 

AntiReset (Taiwan Fri Viki/Gaga) ep 4 of 10 - Oh look, Taiwan has created yet another BL where I spend most of the time watching it grinning like an idiot. Surprise surprise. The pet name thing was fucking adorable. Also Taiwan once more proving they come by their "kings of kissing" title honestly. I mean to say. In a week of good kisses this one was just... WOW.

On the other hand, some of the underpinning themes are starting to v worry me (ownership, consent, age), and we only just got started, and I don't trust this production company so... I have concerns.

But also... YAY KISSES!

(I'm made of weak moral fiber.)

Although I Love You and You AKA Sukiyanen Kedo Do Yaro ka (Japan Thurs Gaga) ep 6 of 10 - Like many other shows on this list. I just enjoy it the most when the two leads are on screen together. So this episode was kind of lacking because they were apart for most of it. I also am starting to agree with the tone of the plot, that maybe they ARE better off as friends not lovers. (And I'm sure I'm not supposed to want that.) Oh Japan, must you?

My Strawberry Film (Japan Gaga) ep 1 of 8 - Oh it’s good. In the arthouse lane so don’t expect sweetness & light or an HEA. If there’s no cartoon aspect to a JBL, there’s usually no joy. But it is certainly good. Teens uncover some old film and a mystery around a pretty girl. The background music is wildly annoying (and rarely in the background). 

It's Done

What Did You Eat Yesterday Season 2 AKA Kinou Nani Tabeta? Season 2 (Japan Gaga) 10 eps - will binge when I have any spare time. 2024 is crazy busy for me so far.

The Servant and the Young Master - from Vietnam, it's on YouTube. I will give it a try when I have a window of time.

Began Beginning (Myanmar YouTube) - A Burmese BL? @heretherebedork vouched for it, so I will give it a watch.

7 Days Before Valentine (Weds WeTV) - Gave me Luminous Solution vibes have decided not to watch.

It's Airing But...

Dead Friend Forever (Thai iQIYI) - rumors are it's interesting. I'm waiting to know how it ends.

Ossans Love Season 2 (Japan Gaga) - 5 years later, will anything have changed? This is Japan so… probubly not. I won't be watching this. I disliked Season one and actively hated the follow ups. No thank you.

Playboyy (Thurs Gaga) 14 eps - Dear Playboyy, it's not you, it’s me… I hate you. You’re about as deep (and as palatable) as a shot glass of cum. While I'm sure you’re someone’s kink, you're my weakest link. Goodbye. I DNFed this at ep 5. Frankly I'm impressed with myself for getting that far.

Time the series (Tue Gaga/YT) 10 eps - dropped it at ep 4.

Next Week Looks Like This:

2/24 Unknown (Taiwan Youku) 12 eps - Older brother tough guy breadwinner looks after his sister and defacto adopted little brother. Little bother falls in love with him and is sent away after a stolen kiss. But when he comes back…

Sam Lin has a cameo so even if I wasn't already excited, I'm in. We should be on our guard though, Taiwan will occasionally go edgy, dark, and sad... this could go there.

One assumes GMMTV is filling in the BL time slot with something queer on their YT Channel after Cooking Crush ends, they gonna lose subs if they don't. But I've not been paying attention to the chatter so I don't know which of their line-up it will be. I think G4 are filming/off radar now, and Earth is in that het noona thing? Plus they gotta sort out the IP for MIx-Up and Ossen. So it won't be one of the announced adaptations. They'll hold My Golden Blood for the high season, so I think it'll be one of the lesser known lead-outs. Wandee or Only Boo maybe? But they only just started filming those. Are we getting our long awaited GL? Anything else left from 2023 that I forgot about?

Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

Two crawling kisses from Thailand this week. Now this is a fetish I didn't know I had. Turns out, we love this one! (*waves hand in air* I speak for all of us now.)

Cooking Crush

City of Stars

Possibly the best tsundere to cinnamon roll pivot we've had in a long time.

Also the best asshole to KING pivot. Could we have a whole drama staring this character now? Please?

And finally our sunshine learning to love himself.

SIGH. what a lovely show.

And a good SMILEY kiss from a KBL.

And then some cute cuddles? Korea is spoiling me these days. I'm catching expectations now. What's next? Japan learns to kiss in their light BLs? Ha! I kill me.

(All Love for Love's Sake).

(Last week)

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

was i the asshole for dating both a dad and his son at the same time and not telling them about each other?

that one's wild as hell, i know.

let me get this cleared up in advance; this is NOT a fandom thing, everyone in this story is male and OF COURSE an adult (M and i are similar aged but A was a very young father so he's not much older), they both knew i was polyamorous and i was free to have other partners without having to tell them everyone i was dating. this isn't a problem of ages OR cheating. also this was pretty long ago.

so a while back, i was very close with this guy M, and his dad A. i actually met A first, through work, but ended up hanging out with M more due to us being closer in age. i did and still do love them both equally. i started hooking up with each of them (separately of course) and it turned into a relationship. i loved them more than just sex.

but heres the thing, i never told them i was dating the other. again, with the solutions we worked out for my polyamory, this wasn't a case of cheating, and if it were anyone else, i wouldn't be asking this, but it feels a little more important since i was sleeping with their son/dad.

there are a few reasons i didn't tell them, though. i mean, half of it was cause of awkwardness, it would be really weird for them to know that their boyfriend was also with their son/dad. but more specifically, they had a very strained relationship. M was disabled, and cause of that, his dad was kinda too coddling and was weird about M having a sex life despite him being an adult. M didn't like A that much either because of some personal stuff, but A is not a bad person, it was just a misfortune of raising a child young and alone. my country is also not very perfect with gay laws, and while i knew they both were queer, i still didn't want to out either of them to each other anyway.

it was just a coincidence both relationships formed, also. i am very open about being bisexual, and each of them confided in me separately that they were gay too, and it developed from there cause we cared about each other alot. i wasn't trying to cause amything or be sneaky, and i loved them both equally and didn't want to have to choose.

i still care about them but due to completely unrelated circumstances im not in contact with either anymore, though things ended on a good note with both, it wasn't a messy breakup. but i was recounting this as a funny dating story to my newer friends, and some of them said that was really shady of me and even that it was indirect incest? which i dont think is a thing, but it might be.

i can't do anything about it now, but i have been thinking it over and maybe it was a shady thing to do after all. so am/was i the asshole for this?

What are these acronyms?

[dyns33]

Stealing perfume

So I said it would be an Murderdock one shot, but it's a bit of a part 2 for Flower arrangement, even if you don't need to read part 1 to read this.

Y/N had never imagined Matthew when he was a child.

She might have, wondering if he had looked like a little ginger angel with blue eyes, using his adorable little pout to get everything he wanted. He was doing that now, except he preferred threats, with a big evil smile.

Sometimes he took on an innocent look, but that only worked with people who didn't know him, or who were too stupid to understand that it was a mask.

She didn't remember why Foggy had talked about Matt as a child. After drinking several beers, he asked her how she managed to be friends with him. Strange question, coming from the “best friend in the world”.

“I'm not friends with him, I've known him for years and we do each other favors. Do you know what Murdock was like when he was a teenager ? Like now, but more aggressive. Hiding his insults with less syrup and contempt. I wonder if he was already a devil when he was little.”

“You think he came out of the ground surrounded by flames just to ruin your school years ?” Y/N scoffed as she finished her drink.

“No, but I’m serious ! A mini Matt ! Even more vicious, quieter, who can slip between your legs without you hearing.”

“He can already do that.”

“I don’t want to hear it ! I'm just saying, has he always been like this, or has something happened ? Do you think it was an accident ? The loss of his sight, of his parents ? He never talks about his past, it's weird. Maybe… Maybe you’re right about the exit from the ground.”

“Maybe he doesn’t like to talk about it and you’ve had enough to drink for tonight.”

“Lots of mini Murdocks… Promise me you won’t make little Murdocks.”

“Come on Foggy, I’ll take you home.”

To answer his question, Y/N couldn’t explain why she was “friends” with Matt, much less why he was “friends” with her. They had been seeing each others for several months, still without giving a specific name to their relationship, and it was working.

She knew perfectly well what had happened to young Matthew, since he had told her once, but they had never spoken about it again after that, and she was not going to tell anyone else.

This show of trust was something else, along with the flowers and the kisses, that helped her know that she meant something, much more than most people.

They didn't intend to make little Murdocks, as Foggy said. With Matt's employers, both those in the public eye and those hidden in the shadows, it didn't seem wise to have children.

That, in addition to the fact that he was not good with others, regardless of their age, quite selfish, nervous, dangerous, and therefore unsuitable to be a father.

They hadn't talked about it, but it seemed obvious.

Since they weren't a couple, Y/N didn't worry when she didn't hear from Murdock for several days. It happened that he disappeared, because of his work, his other job, or because he wanted to be alone.

“Away from all these idiots.” as he liked to say. Before meeting her, he visited Silk in prison, or Stark's ex-wives. He told her with a strange smile, before pouting and noting that it didn't really make her react.

If she ended up stopping by his apartment, it wasn't at all because she was starting to wonder if he was okay or if he was seeing someone else, but because she had forgotten her jacket the last time she came.

Of course, he wasn't there. The apartment was empty, and Otomo had told her before she went upstairs that the Master was away for an indefinite period.

“And I guess you can’t tell me where he is.”

“I’ll be honest, we don’t know.”

"Oh. Personal reasons then."

"Probably. Master Murdock was so keen to be alone that he disappeared one evening. We didn't see him leave the place."

It wasn't completely impossible, Matt was good at it. But it was the Hand who had taught him the art of stealth, and they were very good at tracking their targets. Besides, they wouldn't exactly be kind to him when he came back, because they hated not knowing where their employees were.

The apartment had been cleaned, quiet and empty, and yet Y/N stopped in the entrance. She was not a fighter. As a joke, Murdock had wanted to teach her some ninja techniques, but without much success.

However, she immediately felt that there was something. Especially when she couldn't find her jacket.

Y/N remembered perfectly where she had left it, in the bedroom. She also knew where Matt or his cleaners put her forgotten things so she could find them easily.

But the jacket wasn't there.

She could have left, she had other jackets and she knew it wasn't a good idea to stay here too long, going through Matt's things while he was gone.

At the same time, she would not often have the opportunity to look for some shameful secrets. Murdock didn't hesitate to enter her home, fiddling with everything, moving places, and even changing things like the contents of her fridge and her sheets.

He would sulk for a while, refusing to admit that he found her attitude amusing, and using it to blackmail her.

Smiling as she imagined the tortures he was no doubt going to invent, Y/N opened a drawer, then another, a cupboard, before jumping, while a redheaded child half-hidden under a pile of clothes stared at her with his big eyes.

Big, empty, blue eyes that didn't focus.

“… Matthew ?” she asked, slowly sitting down next to him.

"We know each other then. I wasn't sure. Who are you ?"

"I… Yes, we know each other. I'm Y/N."

“Not a lie.” he whispered to himself.

“What the hell happened ?”

"I don't know. I woke up here. There's my smell everywhere, just a bit different. People passed by but I hid like Stick taught me. I couldn't open the door and it's too dangerous to go through the window."

Completely crazy and fearless, adult Matthew would have been perfectly capable of climbing through the window. But he knew his apartment and the building perfectly.

But this child, who was obviously no more than ten years old, was lost and frightened. He tried not to show it too much, because it would bother Stick, his teacher. Even though the Hand was worse than him, he had also been horrible to the poor kid during his training.

He had been hiding for several days, remaining still and silent every time Otomo or anyone else entered, waiting for the right moment to try to escape.

Maybe he heard that Y/N wasn't a danger, that he could trust her. He trembled a little when she stroked his hair and his cheek, showing a surprised look when she asked him if he wanted to eat.

Knowing his sensory problems, she knew what to prepare so that he could swallow his meal without too much problem. Especially since he must have been even more sensitive, because children were always more sensitive with food.

After sniffing the sandwish, Matthew agreed to chew it carefully. He was quite adorable, with his messy hair, his feet that didn't touch the ground and… her jacket.

“Would you like to take a shower and have me find you a t-shirt afterwards ?”

"No."

"No… Okay… It's my jacket."

"I know."

Of course he knew. The little shit made Murdock look superior as he said that, very proud of himself. Y/N waited for him to add that the item of clothing smelled so strongly like her that anyone could have known it belonged to her.

That didn't explain why he'd decided to wear it, though, rather than the skin-friendly clothes that populated the apartment's closets.

“It doesn’t smell too much like you anymore.” was finally what he said in a small voice.

"That's a good thing, right ? I know you have a sensitive nose."

"… Hmm."

Suddenly, he pouted. This he did when he was sad but trying to hide it and just look irritated.

Sensing that she was looking at him, he lowered his head.

“You don’t mind that the jacket smells like me ?”

"… No." he said shyly, continuing to make himself small. "The apartment smells a lot like you. A mix of you and me. That's how I knew that I knew you."

"Oh."

“You’re important to me, right ?”

No doubt she didn't need to answer him, since he could hear her heart and all the other little signs of her body. Still, she didn't really have an answer. They never talked about it.

Yes, Y/N enjoyed her time with Matt. And he seemed to enjoy the moments with her. And there had been the flowers, and the kisses, and those nights where he clung to her, his head on her chest, saying nothing and letting her touch him even though he hated human contact.

And now he was leaving her scent in his apartment. While he was a real maniac, even among others.

Lost in thought, Y/N jumped slightly when she felt the small hand grabbing her sleeve.

“You’re not going to leave me alone, are you ?”

"Of course not." she said without the slightest hesitation, taking him in her arms.

The gesture scared him a bit. The poor boy must not have received a gesture of affection for a long time. But he hugged her back, choking back a sob as she rocked him. She thought she heard him whisper "mommy" but she didn't comment.

Texting Otomo that she was going to spend the night at the apartment and that she didn't want to be disturbed, she carried him to bed to get some rest. He must not have slept since his strange transformation.

They would find a solution later, with Spiderwoman or the Hand. But for now, Y/N wanted young Matt to have some quiet time, kissing him on the forehead as he fell asleep.

It was not necessary to ask for help however, because the next day, when she opened her eyes, she saw Matthew, adult again, staring at the ceiling, motionless.

"… I guess we're not going to talk about what happened."

"No. Never. To anyone."

"All right."

“Young me is a moron.”

"Don't say that. You were adorable."

"A moron, who doesn't know how to hold his tongue and who asks stupid questions." he growled, kissing her bestially before leaving the room just as quickly.

Y/N waited a bit before getting up, because the bed was much more conformable than hers even if she denied it every time Matt brought it up. Then she put on her shoes, she walked towards the door trying to ignore the ninja who was drinking his tea, before seeing her jacket, forgotten the day before on the chair.

But when she tried to take it, Matt went faster than her, grabbing the clothes and putting it on his shoulder, showing his teeth.

"… Okay." was the only thing she said, raising her hands.

"No, wait. Take it back."

“Because it doesn’t smell like me anymore ?”

"Shut up."

“Do you want me to leave you my scarf ?”

"… Shut up." he repeated, taking her scarf to keep it firmly in his hand.

She didn't say goodbye to him, because either he was going to avoid her for days or he would be at her place that same evening. Because she was important to him, even if he would never tell her directly, trying to hide the little boy in him who would demand all her attention.

[maritotoy]

MAUGA X READER (GENDER NEUTRA)

Warning: Violence(Slight) & A bit of swearing

- A Little Bit of Mistake…

You are a part of the team of Overwatch team.

You are a healer and a sniper. This means that if anything ever happens to anyone on this mission, you have to take action fast so they can live. But what about if something happens to you instead? The mission will be compromised, no matter what.

Although you were a skilled healer, some think you were the next Ana, the former army sharpshooter, who is still active out there today.

You’re not sure if it’s because your skills came from Ana or if your abilities evolved in response to your situation. Either way, everyone on this team has been through some shit, so maybe you just need some help too.

Anyway, you're on a mission at the Coral Museum & Learning Center in a museum at Samoa.

It's where you meet your teammates.

The place is crowded with students as well. As you're walking through the exhibit halls, you hear explosion somewhere close by.

The building shakes violently, like it is about to collapse. You see a student running towards you screaming for cover. She bumps into you and falls down as her backpack falls onto the ground with a loud thud. You quickly grab her backpack and lift her up, before she gets hurt.

"Get to the nearest and safest exit," you say. "We have to get you away!" The young lady nods her head before you carry her over to one of the doors. It slides open easily and you quickly usher the girl out, shutting it behind you. After ensuring she is safely on the other side, you ran towards where the explosion had occurred. The area is littered with debris everywhere. Some people lie unconscious on the ground and others seem fine.

The only casualty seems to be an older guy laying motionless on the ground. He looks pretty beat up, but alive. Maybe he'll make it. You quickly run over to him and check his breathing. It's normal. Thank God...

You sighed in relief as you heard gunshots and your teammates' voices yelling from farther in the distance. Good. Now it seems you have found where your team went. Now you just have to go and find them and help them.

Hopefully, that didn't cost too much effort. You just have to hope your friends weren't hurt too badly while you were gone.

With your shotgun in hand, you took off running, towards the direction you heard your friends shouting in. Once you got past the rubble, you saw the group of four fighting against four different Talon soldiers. They were holding back their assailants by using various weapons.

That is impressive.

You admire their teamwork. Their teamwork might have made the difference between their survival and theirs.

You hide into a corner of the room and take aim with your rifle. Your finger tightens around the trigger and you pull, watching as your shot hits a Talon soldier squarely in the chest, causing him to fall to the ground dead immediately. You smile to yourself as you remember what that felt like during training. You don't know why you enjoyed shooting so much, or what it would do to someone else, but right now you were having fun with it. It seemed that every time you pulled the trigger, there was a new person that you shot down.

You hear your teammates calling out for assistance but the Talon soldiers are getting bolder and you can tell they aren't going to give in.

You start reloading your shotgun, which seems to have gotten heavier. Before, you had only managed two bullets each. This time it felt like three. You guess this gun does have more power than it lets on. As you fire multiple shots, more Talons fall on top of their comrades.

It feels exhilarating firing these bullets. Even though they don't seem to affect you directly, it makes you feel powerful in a way that nothing else could possibly do.

When you don't see your enemy anymore, you lower your weapon and ran towards your team as their medical support. They look quite shaken up, but none of them seem to be bleeding anywhere. Thank goodness. You're sure the wound isn't as severe as it seems.

You reach them, ready to assist them.

"Y/N, We still can't back down just yet! Our mission is to stop Talon!" You sigh, but agree with them nonetheless.

It won't do any good to turn tail now. Besides, if you really want to help, you may as well do everything possible. You can handle your own injuries if need be, but they will still be safer here with you instead of being alone. "I will continue to remain vigilant. If something else occurs, I will act accordingly." You reassured. Although you'd rather be doing your job with them, that is your decision to make.

You see them nod in agreement, and they both leave after thanking you profusely for sticking with them through everything, even though things seemed to be getting desperate.

The team continues to fight off the remaining Talon soldiers.

Eventually, one Talon soldier manages to follow you and laughing at the sight of your team members fighting back to back, and then face your back and yours alone as you run.

This gives him the upper hand since he saw you running alone. So, he slowly advances towards you with his two devastating guns.

"HaHa! Coming for ya!" He taunted before raising his gun.

He shoots, but you manage to dodge.

One bullet grazes your arm, making it sting. You hold back your scream and force your adrenaline to push through the pain. You quickly move forward to finish this bastard once and for all.

As you're rushing towards the man, he swings his guns at you and fires several bullets. Luckily, you were able to dodge them, but a few graze your shoulder when you move back.

You try hard not to let that bother you, but it's starting to get harder to keep your composure.

You hide behind one of the fallen buildings, trying to steady your heartbeat.

"Motherf*ck*r..." You whisper to yourself, panting.

At least you were able to dodge most of his shots and his bullets missed you by a wide margin. Still, you were injured by them.

You hear loud footsteps and loud thuds and you were certain it was the guy who's been chasing you.

You peek around the wall, and the man in question appears.

"Hey. Where's the rest of your teammates? I was hoping we could play together," the man smirks, clearly wanting revenge.

His face was covered with dirt and was clearly looking for you, so you decided to stay hidden.

After all, it wasn't worth provoking him. You couldn't afford to risk a fight with him.

A hulking figure with a heavily armored exoskeleton. His imposing presence and intimidating stature make him a force to be reckoned with.

He towers over everyone and almost always has his eyes locked on something specific, including you.

He grins and chuckles before saying, "What's wrong little rabbit? Don'tcha wanna play with me? I know you can fight! Everyone can! Come on, it wouldn't kill you to show me a trick or two." He laughs loudly and raises his arms up. "Come on, show me something amazing~"

You knew better than to fight with a giant, dangerous loose cannon, who is very likely more stronger than you are.

Mauga grins. He takes a step forward to your hiding spot as he lifts up his chaingun, "I know you can do it, little bunny. Show me what you've got~" He smiles widely at you.

You see how much he's enjoying this and he is f*cking annoying in your point of view.

As Mauga was to take another step forward to your hiding spot, you jump up from your spot and attack him in hopes that it will scare the crap out of him.

But unfortunately for you, Mauga doesn't flinch or look scared in the slightest. He simply shrugs your attack off.

As if his body is immune with bullets.

Then he uses his loud and huge jump to knock you back, causing you to tumble down and fall to the ground. You quickly scramble to get your feet underneath you very weakly.

You quickly turn and point your gun at him, aiming at his throat. Unfortunately, he just stands there.

He looks down at your gun and laughs, "Oh no, you little bunny. No need to worry about that. I'm too strong to be killed with a toy gun."

Your eyes opened wide in shock and your gun lowers slightly.

That was a stupid mistake.

"Well then." Mauga begins to move his body closer to you.

You quickly raise your gun and prepare to shoot again but there was a loud earthquake as the building around the two of you shook violently.

A large piece of metal and rocks falls from the ceiling, crashing on top of the two of you.

You feel your head hit the concrete floor hard, causing you to lose your vision momentarily for a second.

Once your vision recovers, two of you were trap under a huge sheet of metal. You begin moving your hands beneath the heavy metal as you try to break free of it. You hear Mauga grunt beside you, and you quickly face him with his leg trapped under the sheet of huge rocks.

Mauga looks up at you with an evil grin on his face as he starts laughing, "Awful, isn't it?" You growl in anger, "Do you not experience even a tiny bit of pain?" you said unbelievably.

"Maybe that's your issue with my game...maybe you shouldn't play my game so often.." He says, obviously enjoying himself.

His laughter makes you even angrier and soon you were trying to get off the huge mess but it was proving difficult with how tightly wedged you were underneath the weight of the sheet of metal and rocks crushing you together. Mauga watches your attempts to break free with amusement as you groan under the immense pressure.

You sighed loudly.

"I hate you." You spit(not literally) at him.

"Yeah, I can tell. That's one hell of a lot of hatred." Mauga replies, amused.

"How is this funny?! Do you understand how horrible you are!?" You shout, frustrated and upset that he was having such great success while you struggled to break free.

"Why don't you ask your teammates about that. Maybe they can teach you some real compassion." Mauga suggests smugly, laughing.

You stared at his smug grin as he laughed and he continued to tease you. You didn't say anything as you just clenched your fists and glared daggers into him. Once the shaking stopped, you removed the pieces of rock that had landed on top of you and looked at him dead in the eye.

You called for help, but there was no response. Your teammates must be far too focused on killing the other Talons and saving the others. Well, fine. They should concentrate on that anyway.

You had bigger problems to deal with anyways.

You exhaled deeply, relieved that at least his leg is stuck in a massive pile of boulders, even if you were both bound together alone on the trapped broken building. As you tried to break out of the debris, your arms began to hurt. The rocks were too heavy for you to lift them up with your physical strength.

"Tch!" You grumble quietly in annoyance as you start to lift up your left arm, pulling at your shoulders and neck. Nothing. It only hurt more. You pull with all your might, trying your hardest to break free, even though that's not really helping at the moment.

"Your trying awfully hard there, little bunny. You think those rocks have grown legs? I don't mind waiting for the right time to make myself known~" Mauga smirks evilly at you and you grit your teeth to try and hold onto the stubborn rocks as long as you can.

But after a couple minutes, you finally give up. It' no use anymore. The rock is too heavy. You sigh dejectedly and stare angrily at the giant man who caused your current predicament.

"You won't last much longer like this." He states.

"No shit. You can keep dreaming, asshole." You sneer at him angrily.

Mauga's smirk grows even wider. "Ahahaha, you're right. You'll be dead within the hour." He chuckles. "But I don't mean that figuratively. Believe me." His sinister voice sends chills down your spine.

He stares. "I'll be quite literal with you, you see, so don't worry."

He stops right in front of you and stares you straight in the eye. His dark, glowing eyes were staring down on you intently, making shivers run up and down your spine. You wanted to look away, but you couldn't. Those eyes were unnerving you and sending a deep sense of fear into your heart.

"Now, let me introduce myself~ My name is Mauga. And you are?" He asked.

He seemed excited to meet you. He wanted to see how strong you are before killing you.

What an Irony.

You shake your head at his stupid question before responding with an answer, "...Y/N." You watch as he tilts his head to one side curiously, "Yes, my name is Y/N. That's all you need to know, asswipe." You spat.

"Wow, such a big mouth." Mauga chuckles. "Let's see, what else should I know about you.."

He pauses and grins. "Oh yes! Let's see. What was your favorite color?" He asks.

You narrow your eyebrows. Why is he asking such random things? Does he seriously want to know about your life story? You're already pretty fucking traumatized by everything going on. It's not like you're gonna talk about the color of my favorite candy bar or the fact that I used to eat marshmallows during the summers. You think.

Before you can respond, he adds, "Hmmm, maybe your favorite season? Spring, summer...Autumn? Winter?"

"Ughhh, why don't you just f*ck off and go die?!" You yell angrily.

He laughs loudly at your choice of words and responds to your comment, "It's pretty rare for a bunny to call me 'F*cker' instead of 'Oi, Handsome~'."

You glare at him and bite your lip as you close your eyes. After few moments, you sigh softly before looking over to Mauga, feeling yourself calm down a little and a small smile forming on your face,

"How is your leg?" You asked, focusing on the rock blocking his leg.

"Not too bad~." Mauga answers happily, clearly pleased with the question.

You fakely snort and roll your eyes lightly. It seems like every word he says is going to piss you off.

"For someone your size, you seem quite weak." He chuckles.

"Is it just your way of talking or do you actually mean that? Because that sounds so f*cking dumb." You reply.

Mauga merely laughs. "Don't you dare insult my words, rabbit...you may think they're pretty silly to me but I swear, when you're as tough as I am, you learn not to judge a book by its cover, ya know?" He responds sarcastically.

You roll your eyes at his stupid remark and huff angrily, "Whatever, idiot. I don't care what you think, I have bigger things to do."

"Like defeat me?" He asks.

"Or kill you." You correct, "But since we're already here, I guess we could try."

The two of you stare each other down with an intense gaze, waiting for the other to make their first move.

Eventually Mauga breaks the eye contact first and laughs, "Good luck~" and his massive frame simply laid there, unconcerned about his leg becoming entangled in the debris.

You glare at him in frustration and then turn your attention back to the huge mess that trapped you with him.

You try to lift it up with all your strength but it wouldn't budge, it was like trying to lift up a mountain.

You let out another frustrated noise and grab one of the small rock nearby and toss it towards Mauga, hitting him on the back.

He seems unfazed, turning to look at you and then grinning, "Ah, come on, don't waste your energy, Y/N~ Just kill me quickly, I'm bored and impatient."

You glare at him again, "You're not getting any pity from me! Not ever." You snap.

You felt your blood begin to boil and you weren't sure whether you were angry at him or at yourself.

There's no telling how badly your injuries are hurting but you're struggling desperately to get these stupid rocks off of him and the ones that trapped you both.

You were a medic, support, and also the team's backup but, even healers like you needs medical assistance too.

You were badly hurt and this time.

YOU COULDN'T HELP YOURSELF.

Mauga sighs and runs his fingers through his hair and shakes his head at you, "You're so stubborn, Y/N..."

You scowl at him and continue to struggle, refusing to give in. You didn't want to give up so easily, despite the pain that you're in, but you've never been good at resisting a direct order.

Mauga extends his gigantic arms at Y/N and gestures for her to come forward. You raise your eyebrow at him skeptically and cross your arms in front of your chest, defiantly glowering at him.

"Come now, little bunny," Mauga taunts, "Don't make me force you~."

"Go ahead, make a fool of yourself." You say in a cold tone.

"Very well. Let's see how well you react to pain then." He smirks evily and you instantly feel your body tense up, ready for him to push you aside while he uses his muscular and giant arms to choke you but instead he throws his big hands forward, making you fall on top of him while grunting in surprise.

"Hmph, I knew that would work!" Mauga exclaims triumphantly as he picks you up in ease.

As you sit there, stunned, still dazed from the sudden blow, Mauga holds you against his large body with ease, as if you weighed nothing at all.

He leans down so that his face is only inches away from yours, almost whispering to you so that only you can hear him.

"Do you know what it feels like when you fall into water? It feels like being caught in slow motion and unable to stop, but you can't, either. You can only move your body slowly, but slowly enough so that you don't drown."

Mauga's grin widens into a full blown grin of mischief.

"I don't understand... what does this have anything to do with me?" You whisper back. Mauga chuckles and shakes his head.

"Nothing~ I'm just playing with your mind, Y/N~ You're gonna find out soon enough~." He replies.

He looks directly into your terrified eyes for a brief moment, before he starts laughing hysterically.

"What? I am confused." You ask. He bursts into laughter once more. You look up at him confused, unsure whether he's being serious or not.

"HahahahahahahaHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!" He laughs very loudly that sooner or later the place will crash you both to death, tears beginning to fall from his eyes from the overwhelming laughter, "HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!"

His laugh eventually subsides as he wipes away his tears. He glances down at you and smiles, "Don't fret, little bunny! Your death won't be so tragic after all~"

"I'm not dying! And even if I did die, you'll still be alive!" You shout angrily, clenching your fists tightly.

"That's true~ But then again, what's the point in living if I'm still going to have to deal with your pathetic attitude right now. How boring~ I wonder what kind of fun you'd be without this annoying attitude."

He smiles at you, a sickening sweet smile.

The smile makes your skin crawl but you felt your anger start to fade, your heart skipping a beat and your breathing becoming shallow.

The way he was looking at you, you couldn't help but feel vulnerable and exposed.

He takes notice of how quiet you were becoming.

A soft smile forms on his face. "You're finally listening~" His dark tone turns into a sinister chuckle.

"Yes! Now I get it! You're a crazy psychopath!" You scream, throwing your arms in the air exasperatedly. He cackles madly at your reaction.

"Now that was satisfying, little bunny. You really did grow on me!" Mauga continues to laugh.

"Now let' me finish my sentence. I'm sorry about not telling you earlier, I know that you probably thought that I was just trying to annoy you and my leg might be injured but the truth is..." He grins mischievously.

He was trying to hold of his laughter and lifts the huge boulder that had been trapping his leg.

He completely destroyed the boulder into a complete dust making you shock and flabbergasted.

"What the fuck!?" You exclaimed, jumping up onto your feet. You were shocked.

"Well, if you must know, I was saving that for later." He responded smugly, walking toward you, his huge hands reaching for your waist.

You immediately tried to pull away from him but he catches you before you could. Your face goes red and you struggle wildly to get away but to no avail. "Relax, I'll let go of you once you do something I ask~" Mauga said.

"Fuck you." You hissed, glaring daggers at him, "Just give me one reason why I should trust you."

"Because I said so~" He replied, smirking down at you.

"So you were bluffing then.." You mumble, glaring at him.

Mauga shakes his head, "Oh no~ which part? That I lied about killing you or that I'm gonna let go of you anytime soon...?"

You blushed hard but at the same time, your heart started beating faster.

"No. No. No! NO!! YOU ASSHOLE! Don't you fucking dare touch me you perverted bastard!" You yelled, squirming beneath his grasp.

Mauga watched them squirmed, lifting them and smiles as he watched them contently.

END OF PART 1

Please pardon me. I've never published a writing tale on Tumblr before. I'm not sure whether I still have that talent, ughh.

[something-tofightfor]

Fool's Gold - Intro

Pairing: Pirate Oberyn Martell x Female Reader (with a twist)

Rating: M for now - but that will change later.

Word Count: 2,266

Summary: An accident on the open waters of The Narrow Sea leads you to a crossroads ... but not everything is as simple as it seems.

Author's Note: This story is what happens when I get fixated on a band and listen ONLY to their albums for two months straight. The title - and the overarching tone of this story are thanks to Caligula's Horse (specifically the Bloom and Charcoal Grace albums). The title comes from a song called "Marigold".

But it's also inspired by Pedro's SAG awards look because anyone that looked at that and didn't immediately think 'PIRATE!' must have been looking at a different outfit than I was.

Thank you to the people that have listened to me talk about this story for the last month - and that encouraged me to continue writing it. I hope you like it.

You woke from a deep sleep to the feeling of the ship shuddering, the motion so strong it nearly knocked you out of bed. 

It only took you seconds to get your bearings. As soon as you were able to, you pulled on your boots and hurried up the stairs to the top deck, holding your blanket tight around your shoulders. What you hadn’t expected to find was disorder; the ship’s crew hurrying back and forth across the flat space, shouting to each other and pointing up. 

You looked up, too, gasping at the sight. One of the masts was charred, the sails attached to it in flames that threatened to spread to the others if not contained. The crow’s nest is gone. Blinking slowly and then reaching up to swipe at your face with one hand, you shivered. 

It was still raining - the storm that had started before you went to sleep hadn’t let up. For a few seconds, you thought that maybe the water would help to extinguish the flames. But when a sudden gust of wind pushed them forward and toward the other sails, you knew it was unlikely. 

“You need to go back to your room.” A sailor gripped your shoulder, startling you out of your thoughts. “Stay below deck. It’s safer there.” He was young, and when you turned your head to look at him, you saw fear in his eyes. “Let me help y-”

“What happened?” You yelled the words, hoping to be heard above the sounds around you. “Why is the ship on fire?”

“Lightning!” He pointed up just as another flash across the sky seemed to confirm his explanation. “A lightning strike.” It made sense; with nothing else on the open sea, the tall masts of the ship were bound to attract the storms. 

“Will we sink?” You wiped at your face again, blinking as much of the water away as you could. “Should I prepare for -”

“No!” He whipped his head back and forth. “This ship will not sink. We will get you safely to King’s Landing and then to Oldtown, m’lady.” He dipped his head and you fought against rolling your eyes at the title. “Go back inside.” He pointed. “Get warm and dry. We’ll be fine by morning.” 

There was no reason to argue and so you didn’t, retreating back into the corridor that led to your room after taking one more look up and at the sky. 

You didn’t believe the sailor. You’d seen enough fires to know that even if they were able to put the flames out, the ship would be crippled for days and destined to drift across the Narrow Sea until someone found you. 

The route was typically safe; Braavos to King’s Landing was well traveled, so you knew that the likelihood of someone finding the ship and assisting you to port was high. But the ones who find us may not be the right people. 

There were pirates on the waters; fewer now than there had been, but it was still worrisome - especially with what you carried on the ship in locked trunks. Taking a few steadying breaths when you reached your quarters again, you looked around the room and then made a decision. 

After changing from your nightclothes to your everyday ones, you began to secure your valuables in the hidden spaces within your dress. A locket that you wore regularly was stashed in a small pocket at your waist. The ring from your mother’s mother took its place in a smaller pocket located near the buttons at the front of your clothes. A palm-sized wood carving of two birds was harder to conceal, and instead of attempting to hide it, you simply put it - along with a small dagger and a few other trinkets from home into a purse that you secured at your waist on a belt. 

You put your boots back on, lining the soles with all of the coins you carried with you and then laced them tightly, curling your toes at the uncomfortable sensation. I almost forgot. With a gasp, you opened the inner drawer of your table, fingers closing around the small, rectangular piece of metal that Wyllam had ensured you’d received. I cannot forget this. 

If there was one thing that your parents had instilled in you about the trip, it was to prepare yourself for anything. Traveling from Braavos to King’s Landing by ship and then by coach from the capital to your final destination was a long journey, but you’d have your guardsmen when and if you needed them … and even when you didn’t. And that’s why I have this token.

The ship shuddered again, and you reached out to steady yourself, sniffing at the air and frowning. The smoke smelled thicker, and so you left the room a second time. Instead of going back to the upper deck, you headed for the small roost near the stern of the ship where the ravens were kept. It didn’t take you long to pen a note and attach it to the leg of your raven, the one you’d raised from the moment it hatched - sending it out the small window and back to your parents. 

We hit storms. The ship is ablaze two nights in. I may be delayed. I’ll update you when we reach King’s Landing. 

You watched the bird disappear into the darkness, gasping when a piece of flaming debris fell in front of the window and hit the sea. That doesn’t look like a sail. Staring for a few seconds at the churning water, your attention was drawn up and toward the sky at the sound of a low roar. What is that? 

The beating of your heart quickened, but you didn’t look away, and when there was another flash of lightning, you saw the unmistakable outline of something massive in the sky - something that you’d been raised to believe was impossible. 

“A dragon.” You gripped the edge of the windowsill, unblinking. The next time you saw the creature, it was much closer, wings flapping to bring it nearer. You didn’t need lightning to see what it did then, screeching again and then opening its mouth to release a stream of fire in your direction. 

It wasn’t a storm that had damaged the ship. It wasn’t the lightning that set the fire, or threatened the lives of you and the crew. It was something much more dangerous and unpredictable.

You heard the roar of the flames from above you, coupled with the screams of the crew, and with shaking fingers, reached for a quill and another slip of paper. The second note you wrote was much messier than the first, though it was longer. 

My previous message was incorrect. It wasn’t a storm. We were attacked by a dragon, I saw it with my own eyes. The Sea Spider - and everyone on her - are in trouble. Two nights into our voyage from Braavos to King’s Landing, and everything is on fire. 

You winced at another roar from the sky, and then braced yourself for impact… but it never came. Returning to your note, you finished it off, scrawling your name and your age, along with the names of your parents, and then reached for another raven - that one marked with the sigil of King’s Landing. Fly well, messenger.

It disappeared into the pouring rain, and when you couldn’t see it anymore, you stared into the darkness, shivering. There was nothing more you could do, except wait - and hope - both of which could be done in your room. 

But even those plans changed a few minutes later when a different crewman burst through your door, his eyes wild. “We’re abandoning ship! She’s sinking.” He reached out, wrapping his fingers around your wrist and dragged you up to the top deck. 

It was chaos, and nothing could have prepared you for the sight of the completely destroyed masts and fierce flames, the scorched wood of the top deck smoldering in places. There was another screech from above you, and the crewman pushed you forward before spinning away, heading back inside. 

You were terrified. Assessing your surroundings didn’t help anything, though. Your eyes moved over the different groups of people that were working hard to free the few smaller rafts stacked alongside the outer wall while the ship’s hull disappeared slowly beneath the roiling surface. I’m going to die on this ship. 

The realization didn’t alarm you the way you’d assumed it would. Instead, you felt a sense of relief - dying at sea meant that you didn’t have to go through with the plans that had been laid out for you, but it also meant that choosing not to go through with them wouldn’t be your fault. 

With a growing sense of calm, you headed to the railing of the ship and gripped it, taking a few deep breaths as you felt the slope of the deck grow steeper. 

Your family name wouldn’t be tarnished. Your parents would be allowed to freely mourn you, and would still potentially receive at least some of the benefits that they’d been promised by signing your marriage contract. You had no siblings, which meant that none of your sisters would be forced to take your place. All things considered, it was one of the best possible outcomes. Even though I won’t be here to make the most of it. 

The seawater was creeping closer to where you stood, and even as you looked up to see what the rest of the crew was doing, you didn’t move, watching as they struggled to cut the ropes holding the boats down while keeping their balance. 

But when you heard screams, you whipped your head back and turned your eyes to the sky, mouth falling open at the sight of the returning dragon. That time, you felt the breeze from the beating of its wings, the moving air propelling the flames forward and causing them to engulf more of the ship’s deck. And when you saw it open its mouth and reposition its body, you knew what was coming. This is it. 

You thought of your parents’ faces as you closed your eyes, taking a deep breath and preparing for the burn … but it never came. 

Instead, you felt a wave of heat that pushed you backwards, your hip slamming into the railing and both hands shooting out to balance yourself as a gasp was forced from your lungs. 

The rest of the ship was aflame, and as more and more of it slid beneath the surface of the water, you caught sight of one of the crew members pushing a boat overboard before he was snatched up in the jaws of the flying beast, his screams echoing in your ears.

Your body made the decision for you then, deciding that it wanted to live no matter what that meant, and you dove overboard, the chill of the sea making you gasp. When you surfaced, you spun quickly in the water, searching for the ship - and the boat that had been pushed from it and into the waves.. 

But the dragon was back - and that time, it had a partner. The two creatures swooped and dove, sending short blasts of fire at the crewmembers still on the deck, some of them jumping into the sea as they were consumed by flames. 

You didn’t know if it was the ocean water or actual tears that were running down your face, but you forced yourself to look away and search for anything to keep you afloat once your arms and legs tired. Your skirts weighed you down, and you knew that if you didn’t have any luck soon, it wouldn’t matter. Seven hells, please just…

Spluttering as you propelled yourself through the water and away from the flaming remnants of the Sea Spider, you cried out as something made contact with the back of your head - a searing pain radiating through your skull. 

You went under, the pain overtaking all of your senses, and when you resurfaced again, your eyes were wide and wild, the pain still present and actually growing worse as you flailed and coughed, trying to clear the seawater from your lungs. 

But through it all, you searched for the source of the impact, and were rewarded with the sight of the small boat, bobbing against the waves. Taking action required all of your concentration, and even then, it doubled and then tripled in your vision as you started to swim toward it. 

It took everything in you to grab the edge of the boat and hoist yourself up and inside of it. You gasped out a breath as you collapsed against the bottom, curling up in an attempt to make yourself as small as possible and hoping that the dragons wouldn’t pay attention to you or the tiny vessel. 

You were in an agonizing amount of pain - head pounding and your limbs weak, but you raised a hand to the back of your skull, prodding at the space where you’d been hit. It came away wet, and when you used the light of the burning ship to look at your fingers, you could tell that they were covered in blood. At least if I die, it won’t be by dragon or drowning. Your hand fell, thunking against the curved wood of the small boat’s hull, and you sighed, closing your eyes.

The screams of the crew and the crackling of the fire continued, but you heard none of it - because you were unconscious. 

—

[fr4nkie0stein]

Catra x force captain reader

force reader was kind of treated like Catra with Shadow Weaver. Although Shadow Weaver just hated the reader. Catra is kind of confused when she hears how badly reader was treated.

Like, what? You somehow have more trauma then me?

Reader just has lots of scars on her arms and back because of how much Shadow Weaver beat her

You dont have to do this if your not comfortable! Have a nice day :]

No worries, I feel completely comfortable with writing something like this! You have a nice day too ♡♡

Hurt

Pairing: Catra x fem force captain reader

Summary: you and Catra bond over the horrible ways Shadow Weaver treated you both

Content warning(s): childhood trauma, mentions of physical and verbal abuse, talk of scars from said abuse, please don't read if this will trigger you in any way

××

Ever since you were young, Shadow Weaver used and treated you like her own personal punching bag. Whether she was upset over a defeat for the Horde, struggling with her powers, or having to deal with Hordak's criticism, she always turned to you to be the one she could take it out on.

Although it happened for so long, you never told anyone about your abuse. You weren't really close with anybody in the Horde, and you also didn't see the point in it. I mean, it's not like anybody could do much to help.

As a force captain, you often met up with the other force captains to train together. That's where you first met Adora when she used to belong to the Horde, and that's also where you met Catra.

You'd heard a lot about her from the short time Adora had been a force captain, but she was much more intimidating than you expected her to be. You would soon find she was also just as fragile.

The two of you trained together often, but you didn't usually change together in the locker rooms because you didn't know each other that well. One day while you were changing shirts, Catra walked in and saw some of the scars you had on your back from Shadow Weaver's beatings.

"Woah, what happened to you?" She blurted out, not really one who cared for others feelings all that much. "Was it one of the princesses that did it?"

You sighed, knowing she was bound to find out sooner or later. As lying would only make things worse, you stuck with telling the truth. "Uh, no. They were from Shadow Weaver."

Catra's ears immediately flattened back against her head at the mention of her mentor's name. "Shadow Weaver did that to you? But... Why?"

Shrugging, you put your dirty clothes back in your locker and shut it. "Dunno. I guess she figured it'd be easiest to take her rage out on a little kid who couldn't fight back." You leaned up against the locker, shoving your hands in your pockets. "She doesn't do it anymore, though. I think ever since I became a force captain she sort of became scared of me."

Catra scoffed, rolling her eyes some. "Wow, you made Shadow Weaver of all people scared of you? I must admit, that's pretty impressive." She crossed her arms, her gaze falling to the floor before she spoke up again in a much smaller voice. "She hurt me, too. It was mostly verbal, but it didn't hurt any less."

You nodded at her words, your eyes softening as you watched her. "Yeah, I get that." It's quiet for a moment before you suddenly say, "Hey, do you wanna... I don't know, maybe hang out some? Maybe we can talk about some plans for our next attack against Bright Moon."

The corners of her lips quirked upwards as she looked back up, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Yeah, I've got nothing else going on. And you know what, maybe one day the two of us will be in charge, and we can get rid of Shadow Weaver for once and for good."

You smiled back as you walked with her towards the locker room door. "Yeah, maybe."

Fin ××

♡ Send in more requests here ♡

[hmserebusadjacent]

Playing with his hair

The moment I made my post about Emmrich's hair in the new trailer, I just knew I had to write a story where Rook plays with Emmrich's hair. And here we are.

Emmrich x Trans Male Rook (Established relationship, musings on a shared life together, a self promise of a future love confession).

Word count: 1,481

AO3

It had all started with an accidental brush of Rook’s fingers. He had been innocently enough trying to even out a crease at the collar of Emmrich’s shirt when his fingers had brushed the short hairs at the back of the mage's neck.

Emmrich might have been embarrassed by the noise of delight he let out if all of his nerves weren’t tingling at once.

“Darling?”, Rook questioned, not concern in his voice but curiosity instead as he abandoned his pursuit and came to stand in front of his lover instead. Emmrich knew his smile must have looked triumphant and perhaps a little manic because Rook’s answering smile was extremely fond.

They knew each other very well at this stage, even with only knowing each other for a few months. In that time Rook had tried to get know Emmrich more than some of his colleagues had in ten plus years. It was a truly special relationship they had. With every moment, Rook proved that Emmrich’s very being, his very spirit even, had never scared him and never would.

His beauty had truly never scared the rogue, and it never would.

“I'm alright, my sweet. It's just…”

The mage paused for a moment to compose his words and Rook just waited patiently, taking hold of one of his lover’s hands as something to do more than anything else.

“You touching my hair was…electrifying. I wasn’t expecting it.”

Rook’s smile turned truly soft, and he took a step forward into Emmrich’s space.

“When was the last time someone played with your hair?”

Hmmm. The truth was, Emmrich couldn't remember the last time someone had played with his hair. Maybe his mother or his sisters had done it, but those days were long ago now.

Not being intimate with anyone before Rook hadn’t given Emmrich the opportunity to ask for or to receive such an intimate experience.

“I don't know.”

Then Emmrich decided to be brave, his own smile feeling shy as he felt his cheeks blush.

“Would you play with my hair?”

Rook’s grin was instant and delightful, making the mage feel so, so safe all over again. His lover had always been kind and gentle, and he knew he would be now too.

He adored him too much for anything else, and that was wondrous. To see Rook’s adoration always plain to see in his gaze, always present in every touch and every word.

Emmrich Volkarin had never felt more treasured in his entire life.

“Of course I can, Emmie. I always want to make you feel good.”

“You always do”, Emmrich assured, walking over to the chair that Rook motioned for him to sit in as Rook followed along behind. The very prospect of having his hair played with was now making his fingers itch to play with Rook's hair too. To sink his hands into autumn curls, to feel the way his lover's hair sprung and twined around his fingers. To release that heavenly scent of lavender and chamomile soap.

As the pair of them passed the floor length mirror that Rook seemed to be using more and more nowadays, Emmrich paused, mind swirling with an idea.

Then he grinned at Rook, holding up a hand, asking him to wait.

Shuffling a chair over took little time at all, and watching his lover's brain catch up with Emmrich's idea via his blue gaze brightening was brilliant.

“That's a nice idea”, Rook commented as Emmrich settled himself in the chair, crossing his legs at the knee.

“I always want to see you.”

Then Emmrich looked up and saw Rook in the reflection, saw himself in the reflection, and his very soul cried out with joy at how right they looked together.

Elf and human. Young and old. Grizzled but kind and optimistic and kind.

Emmrich didn't really believe in fate, but Rook made him want to believe that fate had destined to bring them together. Like the Hero of Ferelden and his former assassin. Like the Champion of Kirkwall and his beloved. Like the Inquisitor and his most treasured magister.

Would the history books talk of him and Rook with such romance, he wondered. More specifically, would Varric talk about them so romantically?

The necromancer really hoped so. More than that, he hoped they all lived to see the book published.

“Emmie? You've gone into your own mind again, haven't you?”, Rook prompted, gently squeezing his lover's shoulders and bringing Emmrich back into the present. He adored that Rook let him have those moments where he just got stuck looking at Rook himself, lost in his adoration for him.

“Sorry, I uhm…”

Being honest was always best.

Raising his hands to put them over his lover's hands, Emmrich smiled at Rook's reflection.

“I was thinking that if fate does exist, I'm glad that it brought us together. Like something out of a fairytale.”

Rook's smile properly crinkled, his eyes closing a little and revealing his laughter lines. Spirits, he was beautiful.

“The best fairytale of them all, my darling. Finding you was one of my greatest treasures of them all.”

Coming from a man who had seen so much, seen so many beautiful places but had shared his very first relationship with Emmrich, those words meant the absolute world.

“I adore you, Rook”, Emmrich whispered, turning his head to press a kiss to his lover's left hand.

“I adore you, Emmie”, Rook whispered back, leaning further round the necromancer to steal his lips for a very tender kiss. One that spoke of soft mornings, and passionate evenings. One that spoke of many years to come in their relationship and so many joys along the way.

A kiss that spoke of love too.

Emmrich would have to tell Rook that he loved him soon. There would be no hiding it soon enough.

But for now, Emmrich Volkarin was content.

Very, very content.

When the kiss ended, things could only get better from there.

Indeed, the first gentle pass of Rook's fingers through his hair, from the base of his neck to the crown of his head, was so soothing that it had Emmrich bowing his head and sighing happily.

Rook may as well have been a mage for the sheer amount of tingles he managed to produce across the necromancer's scalp. His touch was so soft, so light, brushing aside salt peppered hair easily and deftly. Emmrich tried to keep his eyes open, to keep a watchful eye on their reflections but the sensations were enough to have him slumping slightly in the chair.

“It's alright, Emmie. Just relax”, Rook encouraged, and that was all it took for the mage to close his eyes and enjoy the sensations.

Clever fingers smoothed through his hair in different directions with each swipe, making a mess of his usually neat hair but Emmrich didn't care in the slightest. He adored that Rook didn't just focus on the longer hairs near his crown, but also ran his thumbs through his sideburns and the short hairs at his nape. Feeling the pads of his fingers run round his hairline was also wonderful, Rook tracing the signs of age that he wasn't present to witness. Rook was almost tracing through time with his actions, running through events that had shaped Emmrich and how time had shaped him too.

It humbled Emmrich in the moment to think that he would be with Rook when Rook himself started to go grey. There were a few grey hairs now on his lover’s head that Emmrich thought were very distinguished looking, but the prospect of seeing Rook go fully grey was the best kind of promise. Of years to come and shared experiences, of both of them taking care of each other through thick and thin.

Emmrich Volkarin once thought he would spend the rest of his life alone. But now, knowing that he would be with Rook for a good long time to come, Emmrich couldn’t imagine ever feeling lonely again.

And that thought was what had Emmrich blearily opening his eyes and smiling dopily at his lover’s reflection, taking in all of his glory.

“If you play anymore, I fear I may actually fall asleep”, Emmrich admitted sheepishly, watching as Rook smiled and nodded, his final act being to sweep the mage’s hair back into place.

“Thank you, my sweet. You make this old man feel very treasured, safe and content.”

There was that glorious crinkly smile again, one that Emmrich hoped mirrored the love that he stored inside of him for Rook.

“I’m glad.”

For a moment Rook seemed to consider something, his gaze lingering on Emmrich’s hands. Then he was grinning, his eyes bright and shining.

“Could you play with my hair?”

As Emmrich nodded and beamed a smile at his lover, he knew that his future had never looked brighter and more full of love.