#whether it was all energy or all tears or what....

[toxicanonymity]

Don't have to wait.

VAMPIRE JOEL x f!READER | 4k words | playlist

You're feeling down, and when Joel comforts you with an act of service, things get steamy. Big thank you to everyone who loves him and keeps thinking of him. 🖤 you don't need to read/re-read the others to enjoy this one.

WARNINGS: 18+, softdark, captivity, big girthy age gap (joel >400/reader 20s-50s), angst, dark fluff, bath, body worship, sexual tension, nipplegasm, dry humping, oral f receiving, romantic / dirty talk, cum eating. 

After drying your tears, Joel held you in your bed as you dozed off for an afternoon nap. Awake while you dreamt, he kept picturing the defeated look on your face as you cried into the pillow. He was afraid to ask what was wrong—he couldn’t bear to hear it out loud. It was the way your life had changed. The way you didn’t have the same freedoms. It was a strange new world, whether he liked to think of it that way or not. He could only imagine what it felt like to you. It was going to get better, SO much better, better than you could imagine, but change was always difficult. He’d seen enough change in his life to know. 

Joel had to think of something to help. Taking you out and about would be the right thing, since he knew it was what you wanted, but he was so afraid to lose you. He’d get there—he’d take you out, but not quite yet. Meanwhile, there had to be something he could do to help. He gently let your head off his bicep, kissed you on the forehead, slid out of bed, and admired you. You looked like an angel. Not just when you slept—all the time. 

He needed to think, so he went to a thinking space. 

Joel rolled open the dark barnhouse doors to his huge bathroom. There was one window, and it was stained glass. The floor was coated concrete,  like the basement, but with prettier swirls in dark colors that glimmered and went well with the window.  There was a fireplace on the wall that was shared by his bedroom, and a freestanding claw-foot bathtub. Hugging the porcelain tub on one side, there was a little washbin with its own spigot, like a little sidecar to the tub. He used the sidecar to lather up a sponge for his own baths, which normally didn’t involve much water.

He sat down on a throne-looking velvet chair to the side of the fireplace, facing the tub. He put his journal down on a darkened teak table. Physically, he had energy, but mentally, he was spent.  He rested his head against the chair and crossed his arms loosely. He looked at his granite counter, and behind it, the wall. Where a mirror would normally be, there hung artwork with black frames in fancy shapes.  

Joel climbed in the dry tub fully clothed, sock-footed. He wrapped his cardigan tighter around himself, rested his head against the porcelain, and lay there in the empty tub. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and as he exhaled, it hit him. He could draw you a bath. It’d been a long time since he’d seen a full bath in real life, but he’d seen plenty in movies. He could bring in some flowers, light some candles.  It was so comfortable there in that room. 

Baths are good. Relaxing. Romantic. He knew this. He knew a lot. Everything he watched, and a lot of things he read, were all about human culture and practices. It was impossible not to absorb the knowledge, he just wasn’t used to accessing it for practical purposes. But he was getting better at it. He had to give himself credit for that.

—

When you woke up, Joel was sitting on your bed, pensively reading his journal.  When he noticed you were awake, he took off his glasses and folded them into his v-neck.  “Morning, honey,” he whispered, and gave you a kiss on the forehead. Then he reached over to the table on his side. He had ordered coffee and a croissant from your favorite cafe–the one where you met. You sat up, accepted the tray, and sipped your coffee. 

“You know, i’d really like to go back to that cafe,” you admitted, then tried to appeal to his way of thinking. “Wouldn’t you? Back to where we had our first date?” 

Joel smiled and his eyes sparkled. “Yeah.” He jotted it down in his journal. “But hey, today, I got a surprise for ya here. Gonna show you somewhere new.” 

“A new room?” 

“Yeah. I’ll be back in a bit, okay? You can change into this.” He left you a silk robe. 

—

—

With you by his side, Joel rolled open the massive doors to reveal the air of a gothic cathedral. Steam rose from the claw-foot tub. Candelabras flickered on the walls. The stained-glass window bathed the water in red. The fireplace was on, flowers were on nearly every surface, and the air smelled of patchouli. 

Joel asked if you wanted him to turn around while you got in, but you said it was okay. He took the silk robe off your shoulders and admired your beautiful back. “You’re so pretty,” he muttered. “I’m the luckiest guy in the world.” He held his hand out and you used it for balance as you dipped a toe into the water. “How is it?” he asked. 

“Perfect,” you answered, and he beamed. 

As you sunk into the water, Joel stood and watched, holding an old book with both hands.  He was so strange, but the strangest thing about him was how normal he seemed sometimes. Like a hot professor with a few screws loose. 

Settling into the water, you brought your knees to your chest. 

“Anything I can bring ya?” 

“I’m good, thanks,” you answered. 

Joel hung up his cardigan on the wall, then dragged his throne-like chair in front of the fireplace and sat with his book in his lap. He was posted like a lifeguard, alert and pleased to see you enjoying the experience he set up. 

You looked at him, wondering if he wanted something. 

He assured you, “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna leave ya.” He couldn’t risk you drowning on him. 

“Oh…” you replied. “Okay.” 

Joel nodded confidently, then remembered quietly to himself,  “Oh.” He took his glasses off the front of his softwash v-neck and put them on, then opened his book. “You won’t even notice I’m here,” he smiled. 

It was a really beautiful room. Warm and cozy, even with the high ceilings. A gorgeous chandelier. The tub was roomy, and the water felt perfect. You stretched out your legs and crossed your ankles. 

Joel kept looking up from his book to check on you, so you started to make conversation. “Is this your bathroom?”

“Yeah,” he answered. “Do you like it?”

“It’s gorgeous,” you gushed. “What’s this do?” Your thumb brushed a crystal knob that was on its own, away from the other part of the faucet. 

“Oh,  you click it down and it waits 30 seconds then fills the tub,” he nodded. “Automatic shut-off” 

“Cool,” you replied.   

“Oh,” he remembered, “Forgot to show ya somethin’ else. Can I–” he pointed at the tub. 

“Sure,” you answered. 

Joel left his book on his chair, and knelt at the side of the tub. He reached down to the little sidecar and turned on the water spigot. He smiled and looked at you until the spigot stopped. “Just if you want,” he explained, and held up a sponge full of suds. 

“Oh, thanks,” you replied. 

He lingered by the tub. 

“If you want, I could even, uh,” he motioned with the sponge toward you. 

Your cheeks warmed…. hmmm. Why not? “Okay,” you agreed.

“Yeah? ”

“Sure.” 

With both knees on the floor, Joel looked at you with a little smile. Then his gaze drifted down to the clear water, and his eyes couldn’t help but linger.

 “What?” you asked, and he realized he was staring. 

“Sorry, uh,” he shook his head at himself. “It’s just—” he looked into your eyes. “You’re a work of art, that’s all.” 

You sank down a little more in the water and smiled shyly. 

“Hey, careful,” he laughed and reached for your arm to not let you go further in. 

He scanned you head to toe again and added, “Most perfect sight I ever seen.” 

“Thanks,” you looked away. “You don’t have to say that.” 

“What?”

“M’not perfect,” you mumbled. 

“Yeah you are,” his face got serious. “Perfect for me,” he insisted, then mumbled to himself,  “s’why you’re here.” 

Afraid he was making you uncomfortable, he looked down at the sponge and said, “Okay,” shifting into his task.  

“K,” you echoed. 

“Can I touch you? ” 

“Yeah,” you agreed. In truth you wanted nothing more. 

—--

You tilted your head up to look at the ceiling, and Joel started at your neck. He brushed his bite marks with the pad of his thumb and it felt like an apology. 

“It’s okay,” you reassured him. 

He gently lathered your neck, then your shoulders. “Wow,” he marveled quietly at the way the suds ran down each curve of your form above the water. He lathered your chest with the sponge. You lifted your arms, putting your hands on the sides of the tub, and he got your underarms. He ran the sponge over your chest again and paused. He took the sponge away and whispered, “God damn,” watching the bubbles flow down between your breasts. 

Turned on by his worship of your body, you rubbed your lips together and looked at him.

“Sorry,” he whispered, “Just gotta, uh,” He showed you the sponge with a nervous chuckle and dipped it into the water sidecar, getting water all over himself. 

He looked down at his wet shirt and you suggested, “You could take it off, if you want.” 

He raised his eyebrows. “Yeah, if you don’t mind,” he read your face. 

You answered low and soft, “I don’t mind,” with a raise of your eyebrows. 

Joel took a deep breath and put the sponge back in the sidecar. “Okay,” he whispered. 

He reached over his back and took his shirt off. You drew in a deep breath through your nose, admiring his strong shoulders and the smattering of soft brown and gray hairs on his chest. He took off his glasses, folded them, and put them aside with his shirt. 

Joel bathed you in silence, lips parted, corners of his mouth glistening. He took his time, and his eyes roved your body. When he got to your inner thigh, you shuddered and got goosebumps everywhere. 

“Sorry,” he whispered. 

You shook your head, “Don’t stop.” 

He glanced at your face with a dark, hungry look, then his eyes settled on your peaked nipples. He tilted his head slightly, and wet his lips. He bit his tongue then slid it across the roof of his mouth and back before shaking himself out of the trance. 

He continued bathing you in silence. He looked so hot, biceps bulging with every movement. His strokes were sensual and hit your skin just right. Your back arched and your eyes closed. 

After finishing with the sponge, he put it back in the sidecar.He brought handfuls of warm water up to your neck and chest to wash away the suds.

He paused the rinsing and broke the silence. His voice was soft and deep:

 “Do you ever think about, uh...” He paused. “If ya might like to—i mean….if I could do anything for ya—not just about blood, I mean–” He took a deep breath. “Guess what I’m tryin’ to say is, I know that’s when we normally do stuff, but we-”

With your eyes still closed, you found his hand and put it on your breast. 

“don’t have to wait,” he whispered, completing his thought. 

“Yeah,” you agreed with your eyes still closed.  

He slowly began to massage your breast, and when he thumbed your hard nipple, you moaned, “mm.” 

“That feel good?” he whispered. 

You nodded and your brow furrowed.

He kept doing what he was doing, and without stopping, he made his way behind your back at the end of the tub. Then, slotting his hands under your arms, he pulled you up in the water a little. He cupped your breasts from behind, and circled his thumbs around your nipples, making you take a deep breath. 

He murmured, “I’d do anything for ya.” 

‘Mmm,” you moaned, and he continued the motions of his thumbs 

“Anything to make ya feel good… and safe”

He covered your breasts with his palms, cupping them, then lightly moved his palms in circles over your nipples.

“Joel,” you whispered, “Mmm,” your back arched. “Don’t stop,” you pleaded. 

He continued with his palms, then slotted both nipples between his spread fingers. 

You moaned, and he lightly dragged his open fingers down your breasts, slow and light, each digit going up and down as it crossed your nipple. He dragged his fingers up again, and then went back to using his palms.

“I’m–” you began. “--mm”

He could see you squirming under the water, pressing your thighs together,  “Shhh,” Joel reassured you. “I know, sugar.” 

He cupped your breasts again, and you reached a wet hand out of the bath and dangled it behind you, groping for his crotch. He pushed his hips forward, and the hard shape in his soft pants met your wet hand. He took a deep breath, and so did you, and he watched your body writhe under his soft touch, until you released the most beautiful moan that echoed through the room. 

“Yeahh,” he cooed into your hair, “that’s it, that’s good.” 

Your body spasmed again, and he wrapped his arms around you as you finished your peak. You leaned your head back against him. He kept one arm around your chest, and cradled your head with the other.With an open mouth, he kissed your cheek slow and soft. 

“Mm,” you sighed.

“How ‘bout we get you dry?” he asked. “Then i’ll warm ya back up.” 

—---

Once you were dry, he carried you to the bedroom and laid you down gently on the smooth sheets, admiring your nude body. The room was dim, and he was still shirtless. He kneeled onto the bed and cautiously moved toward you. His face hovered over yours, and you admired his eyes, lips, and neck. Then you met his eyes, his face drifted closer, and he pressed his lips into yours. You kissed him back, and his pants grazed your bare thigh. 

“Uh,” you shifted under him. “Your pants are kinda wet.”  He looked down at himself, then asked, “Should I…” And you reached for his waistband to help him unbutton.

After discarding his pants on the floor, he was left in boxer briefs and the thick outline in them made your breath hitch. He got between your legs, and brought his face back to yours. 

He kissed you softly, and when you kissed back with hunger, he matched your intensity. Moaning into your mouth, he cradled  your head with his left hand. You slipped him your tongue and he accepted it gratefully. After a minute of kissing, his lips left your mouth and his hand slid down your head to your neck. On the other side of your head, he kissed down your jawline to your neck. He pulled back and studied his bite marks on your flesh, and you reassured him, “it’s okay.” 

Holding your neck gently, his massive hand made you feel small and delicate. His lips lightly brushed the overlapping sets of circular wounds in different stages of bruising. Then his nose brushed your skin. He sniffed around your jugular, down to your collarbone, then back up. His tongue brushed your tender skin lightly, then he pressed a soft kiss into the crook of your neck. 

“You can do it,” you offered. “You can take some.”

“No,” he declined. “That’s okay, sweetheart.” 

“You can, I like it,” you reminded him. 

“I know, I like it too, baby, but—doesn’t have to be every time, right? This is different…” 

“Sure,” you agreed with warmth rising to your cheeks. 

“Other ways I can make ya feel good,” he added. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you smiled. 

“Want ya to feel safe,” he whispered, then kissed your neck again. “Want ya to know I can control myself.” 

You bit your lip, then whispered, “I know you can.” 

Joel’s kisses trailed from the side of your neck down to the dip in the center of your collar bone, where he dipped his tongue, then dragged his lips down your sternum. He cupped one of your breasts and moaned into the other. He licked the nipple, circled it with his tongue, then sucked. He kissed the outer curve of your breast, and the top, and the bottom, before kissing your nipple again. He moved to your other breast and suckled at it, breath getting heavier through his nose. He looked up at you with sparkling  eyes and murmured, “Every inch of you tastes like a dream.” 

You fingered his hair and he nuzzled his head into your touch, briefly closing his eyes.  You pulled him toward you and kissed him again. He laid his chest against yours and it made your skin buzz. 

“You’re warm,” you marveled. 

“I guess it’s you,” he explained. “Only when we’re this close.” 

“It feels good,” you whispered.

He leaned his forehead against yours. “It’s our skin together, sweetheart.” 

“Can I, um. Can I feel more of your skin?” you asked, and slid your toe up the side of his thigh to the edge of his boxer briefs. 

He paused and looked back and forth between your eyes. “Uh, yeah,” he answered. “Of course.” 

He shed his boxer briefs and gently held his cock against his happy trail, making his shaft press into the padding of his lower stomach. “I don’t wanna, uh.” 

“What?”

“Touch ya any way ya don’t want,” he answered. “Might not be what you’re used to, either.” He glanced down at himself. 

You reached toward his crotch and covered his hand with yours. “Can I feel?” you asked. 

He wet his lips and nodded, slipping his hand out from between your palm and his package. 

You palmed him and his cock was warm and stiff. It was commanding and uncut. Your palm gently nudged the smooth skin of his shaft, and he moaned with his eyes closed. 

“It’s so hard,” you gushed just above a whisper.

“That’s you,” he answered, “That’s your blood,” and those words seemed to heighten your lust and his. He gently held your neck again and kissed you on the lips like he needed you bad. You were still holding his stiff manhood, but wanted his body against yours. 

You broke away from his lips wih a moan and whispered, “I need your skin on mine.” 

You moved your hand, dropping his cock onto your mound, making you moan as you used both hands to cradle his head, then carded your fingers in his hair. His cock swelled against your clit and he subtly thrust against you. Your hips lifted to meet his rhythm and your chests heaved against each other. 

“You know how bad I wanna be inside you?” he asked. 

“Mmm,” you answered, “I can feel how bad.” He was throbbing hard against your front. 

“But we gotta trust each other first,” he said with a slow thrust against you. He closed his eyes and dipped his head so his cheek was touching yours. “God, I want it,” he whispered in your ear. “But I gotta earn your trust.” 

You lightly massaged his scalp with your fingertips and said, “I want it, too.” 

“Of course we do,” he said, and kissed you on the lips, long and soft, still slowly grinding on you. Then added, “We’re meant to satisfy each other.” 

He kissed you on the cheek, then the neck, and the forehead, slowly grinding his stiff cock against you, with the heat of his chest on yours. “The way we’ll fit together,” he panted, “like nothing we’ve ever felt.” He brushed your temple with his thumb and kissed you desperately, in rhythm with your bodies moving together. You moaned, and he added, “I’m tellin’ ya, sweetheart. ‘S’gonna be—ohh—celestial,” he breathed, and moaned again. He was leaking precum onto your tummy. “Whole other dimension,” he whispered, then kissed you again. “God damn,” he panted. “I gotta calm down,” he chuckled.

He pulled his hips back and his cock slid down, wet against your clit. He paused to let it rub against your cunt for just a moment before he pulled back more, and kissed his way down your stomach. He kissed the trail of his pre-cum, open-mouth, a sight that made you weak. The closer he got to your mound, he used his tongue more and more. Then he put your legs over his shoulders. 

He stared at your glistening cunt and whispered, “gorgeous,” then he nudged the bridge of his nose into your wetness as he sniffed up your folds. “God,” he whispered, then used his tongue, firmly licking up your cunt then circling your sensitive nub before giving it a long kiss. He licked into every hidden place of your warm, wet pussy and thrust his tongue into you. 

It wasn’t much different than when you had your period, except he started gentle before becoming voracious. He was soon insatiable, and tension was building in your gut. 

“Joel,” you sighed, and he kept going. “Oh, god,” you moaned, “Joel,” your legs curled, prompting him to look up at you with flickering eyes and a shiny face. 

“Sorry,” he exhaled. “It’s—it’s actually plasma,” he explained of your slick. So it was like blood to him in a way.  “God, it’s so good,” he gushed. He dove in for more, licking and sucking and drinking you down. 

When you were teetering right on the edge of bliss, you pleaded, “come back, c’mere,” and he obediently let your legs down. 

He prowled up your body and slid his cock through your folds before laying it hard against your mound. His warm chest and belly laid onto yours, and you groaned and your hips lifted upward. He slowly thrust against you and you began to cum, throbbing against his cock. 

He moaned your name and then, “oh, god,” and began to cum with his cock wedged between the two of you, gluing your bodies together. He sighed vocally, then his lips found yours again, and you kissed through your mutual climax. 

You broke away for air and gushed, “you feel so good,” wrapping your arms around him. 

He chuckled shyly and kissed your neck, then your cheek again, and your forehead. You looked each other in the eyes, and his irises still had a bit of that special shine. He kissed you, and stayed with his skin against yours, then asked, “you okay?” 

You nodded. 

“You okay if I clean up?” he asked, and you answered, “sure.” 

He apologized for the mess as he rolled over onto his back and his cum spread like glue between the two of you. 

You sniffed the air curiously, and he stopped to watch you. As the air of his semen and musk filled your nostrils, a soothing wave moved through your body. 

You asked, “can I, uh,” and dipped your finger into the mess on your tummy. He nodded enthusiastically and watched you bring your finger to your lips. 

You dipped your tongue and your tastebuds were transfixed. You quickly dipped your fingers down to your tummy, gathering as much of the spend as you could, and wrapped your lips around your fingers, closing your eyes and breathing through your nose as you tasted and swallowed it. 

“Good?” he asked

You just barely nodded with your fingers in your mouth and your eyes still shut.

Joel nodded, unsurprised. “‘cause it was made for you,” he said. You got up on your knees and he watched affectionately as you straddled his legs and brought your face to his lower abdomen. 

“Go ahead,” he started to say, but your tongue was already in his happy trail before he got the words out. You licked and slurped it up, and he chuckled, both at the sensation and your eagerness. 

Joel got a warm wet cloth and cleaned you up before cleaning himself and pulling his boxers back on. 

–

You laid together basking in the closeness of each other. You could feel your skin glowing, and his too.  He was face down with his arm over you, and you were really comfortable. 

After a while, he propped himself up to look at you and trailed his fingers down your sternum. 

 “I was, uh, gonna, go get the mail right about now,” he mentioned. “Overcast, just about sunset…” 

“Oh,” your face fell. “Okay.” You tried not to look too disappointed. 

“I was wonderin’ if maybe you wanna come?”

Your face lit up. “Really??”

“It’s just down the driveway,” he clarified. “Long driveway,” he added. 

“Yeah,” you nodded with bright eyes, and sat up. 

“Alright,”  he smiled, and kissed you. 

He went to your closet and brought you an outfit, then left while you used the restroom and got dressed. 

He returned with the leather cuffs, and you gladly handed him your wrist and let him link you together.

For the first time, you were standing right there as Joel opened the big, heavy front door. 

With your fingers interlaced with his, you stepped outside. 

—--

-----

-----

thank you so much for reading! i really value the affection you all express for him, and hope he's brought some comfort to you. Written with love <333

[rizsu]

the "losing all my innocence in the backseat" lyric is so geto waitttttt 😩

sneaky link geto who's like that guy who haunts the narrative of your love life

⢷ pepsi will never thrive without coca cola. (he ain't shit) geto suguru ꘟ fem-reader.

+ love, ‘su: PAUSE THE CHAT 🗣! geto would def stalk ur very much directed tiktok reposts and reply to them with “u miss me huh” (no beta #writtenassoonasigotthisask)

s-link!suguru who just wanted some quick comfort. he didn't need a nagging girlfriend who'd bother him about his whereabouts, certain messages, or even the not-so-hidden circular bruise at the side of his neck, a little under his ear.

in his eyes, you were — no, you are the perfect match for him. you're everything he's ever needed. you used him the way he used you; one and done. no more, no less. both equally needing the sense of relief and relaxation without pushing for deeper meaning.

s-link!suguru who obeyed the “no kissing” rule. to him, kissing is intimate — it's pure. the intentions of a kiss (in his view) are always romantic and genuine, two things that he's long been stripped of. he also avoided eye contact during the moment. it made him feel vulnerable, like he was ready to give up the persona and bask in your love.

again, you never opposed. if that's what he wants then sure. it's not like you were hoping for anything deeper. ignoring the sting in your chest, you often buried your head in the junction of his neck to shoulder — sometimes biting on his skin to deter yourself away from tears. you don't love him; it's just in the moment. that's all.

unlike what s-link!suguru believes, his friends collectively agreed that he's slowly falling in love. why else would he be aggressively tapping through your instagram stories? why would he swipe to reply with “who the fuck is that” if he isn't your boyfriend?

a monkey who doesn't see his own tail won't recognize his own mistakes, a saying his friends often preach — much to suguru's dismay. he doesn't know where it came from nor why they use it, but he's heard it from time to time.

the men can be heartless, but they have no tolerance for suguru intentionally hurting someone as sweet as you. you've met them, they met you, and s-link!suguru's hand never stopped lingering on your body. “not her boyfriend,” he said.

s-link!suguru eventually acknowledges that he's falling — head first, too. this is against every rule he laid out at the beginning of... whatever you two had going on. so, he didn't hesitate to slowly go no-contact with you.

it was easy to say the least. muting your chat, silencing your calls, skipping your posts — too easy. almost as easy as the first time you let him through your barriers. but he hadn't anticipate your immediate move on. when you finally confirmed that he's beginning to ghost you, you moved on.

did you jump relationships? no, but you did post more revealing outfits and “clubbing” stories.

his bottom lip suffered tremendous damage once he saw what you've been doing. is he angry? upset? jealous that you're in a dress he specifically pointed out that it'd “look hot on you” during a walk together?

it didn't take long before nailsbytrish457 kept viewing your profile. they were within the first few viewers. at first you were weirded out by it — a random account keeping daily tabs on you? time to private your profile.

for some reason, you didn't bother to private. instead, you were set on blocking the account and the other accounts it's attached to. your following count went down by 2. odd, right? why would su_geto be blocked as well if you only blocked nailsbytrish457?

s-link!suguru who gave up the non-existent fight and called you. he didn't care — you were going to deal with him whether you had the energy to or not. minutes into the call, arguing about the fact that he shouldn't be bothered until you hear a car pull up in your driveway.

baffled, you'd say “you're not fucking serious.”

he'd only reply with “open the door.”

in between the cursing, yelling, middle fingers being thrown up every now and then, you found yourself straddling his lap, digging your nails into his neck. you want to injure him — badly — but your mind can't seem to stop replaying the flashbacks you desperately tried to turn into lost footage.

s-link!suguru who cracks a cocky smile knowing he got his way, per usual. it's always like that. you know it too, but you can't seem to do anything about it. at least, he's a call (and an argument) away if you need him.

you're familiar with the warning that your love life will crumble if you don't get him out of the picture permanently, but how can you if he's so consistent yet irregular in your life? he's there, he's not. he's with you for a week, he's ghosting you the next.

a push and pull game you're too tired to care for.

andddd thats it bc im out of ideas 🧍🏽‍♀️ idk how situationships go i've yet to experience real romance in my life BYE. i literally stole my friends' experiences n stories for this #inspo #shoutouttotheirls

[marimeeko]

Correct me if I'm wrong, I only have seen a few of his panels for this chapter but....

Izuku is not crying anymore?

Like...the energy/tears that WERE streaming from his eyes ever since he got there, saw the carnage, and started fighting Shigaraki...

None of that's there anymore...

Not since.... he saw Katsuki.....

[phoenixcatch7]

Love how every zelda has a special interest and that special interest saves the world.

[littledead-ridinghood]

And the most important Jason Todd discourse starts anew: is he or is he not a Swiftie?

[savethepinecones]

i need to stop scrolling through the watcher stuff i feel like im not seeing anything new its just the same arguments over and over again

[m4rv3l-girl]

Happens to the best of us

Bucky x Y/N

Bucky wants babies.

Requests Open!

Warnings: implied smut

Bucky couldn’t help but stare.

He leaned against the kitchen counter of the compound, arms crossed, sipping at a beer that had long since gone warm. The raucous sounds of the Avengers’ party filled the air—laughter, music, the occasional clang of plates or bottles—but all of it was background noise to him. His gaze was locked on you, on Y/N, across the room, sitting on the floor in the living room.

Morgan Stark was giggling loudly, hands waving excitedly as Y/N built an elaborate tower of colorful blocks, her soft voice guiding the girl through every step of the process. “And look! If we put this one right here—” Y/N placed the final block delicately at the top, balancing it with a careful touch. “—we’ve got ourselves a masterpiece.”

Morgan gasped dramatically, her eyes going wide as she clapped her hands together. “It’s so tall! It’s the biggest tower ever!”

Y/N beamed at the little girl, the expression so full of warmth and love that Bucky felt his chest tighten. Morgan clambered into her lap, curling into her with a sense of trust and affection that made something primal stir deep within him.

He couldn’t stop thinking about how natural it looked—how easy, how right. You and a little one.

The thought had been poking at the edges of his mind all evening, ever since you’d arrived at the party.

You’d barely left Morgan’s side, whether it was helping her sneak extra desserts from the snack table (something that got you both a stern but fond look from Pepper) or carrying her around on your shoulders as she pretended to fly like Iron Man. And the whole time, Bucky watched. Watched the way you moved, the way you interacted, how effortlessly you handled every tantrum, every sugar-fueled burst of energy.

It made his heart ache—in the best possible way.

“Buck, you good?”

Sam’s voice pulled him out of his trance. Bucky blinked, realizing his friend was standing beside him now, raising an eyebrow as he leaned casually against the counter.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Bucky muttered, tearing his eyes away from you to focus on the beer in his hand.

Sam chuckled. “You’ve been staring at Y/N for the past hour, man. You sure you’re fine?”

Bucky rolled his eyes, but the smile tugging at his lips betrayed him. He tried to play it off, taking another sip of the lukewarm beer. “Just…admiring the view, I guess.”

“Uh-huh,” Sam smirked. “Sure. You’ve got that look, man.”

“What look?”

“That look. The ‘I’m head-over-heels, wrapped-around-her-finger, ready-to-settle-down’ look.” Sam bumped his shoulder against Bucky’s, chuckling when the ex-assassin groaned in response. “Don’t worry, old man. Happens to the best of us.”

Bucky shot him a glare, but the playful tone in Sam’s voice made it hard to be annoyed. Instead, he just grunted and turned his attention back to you, heart clenching as Morgan cuddled closer into your arms.

“I’m serious, man,” Sam continued, softer now. “You look like you’re thinking about something pretty heavy over there.”

Bucky didn’t respond, but he didn’t need to. Sam wasn’t wrong.

The night went on, and Bucky stayed mostly quiet, content to let the party swirl around him. Occasionally, you’d glance his way, sending him a bright smile before returning to your playful antics with Morgan. Each time, his heart skipped a beat.

By the time the party began winding down, the kids—especially Morgan—were wiped out, and the Avengers slowly started to trickle out of the compound. You helped Pepper and Tony gather Morgan’s things, giving the little girl a tight hug before bidding the Starks goodnight.

When you finally returned to Bucky’s side, you looked a little tired but completely content. “Ready to go home, doll?” he asked, his voice soft as his hand instinctively found the small of your back.

“Yeah, I think I’m done for the night,” you replied with a sleepy smile, leaning into his touch. “It was fun, though. Morgan’s a little firecracker.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” Bucky chuckled, but his mind was still swirling with thoughts, images of you and Morgan together playing over and over in his head. “You were great with her.”

You shrugged, brushing it off like it was no big deal, but Bucky could see the faint blush coloring your cheeks. “She’s a sweetheart. Honestly, I love kids. They’re fun.”

Love kids. The words echoed in his mind, sending a jolt of warmth through him that he tried to ignore for the moment.

The car ride home was mostly quiet, save for the low hum of the radio in the background. You rested your head against the window, eyes half-closed, while Bucky kept one hand on the wheel and the other loosely intertwined with yours on the center console. It felt…peaceful. Comfortable. Yet, underneath it all, there was this tension building inside him, an unspoken desire simmering just below the surface.

He didn’t know how to bring it up, didn’t know how to start that conversation. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized it wasn’t something he could just push aside. Not anymore.

When you got home, you kicked off your shoes and wandered into the living room, stretching your arms above your head with a satisfied groan. “That was a good night,” you said, smiling over your shoulder at him as you began to pull off your jacket.

Bucky followed behind you, his gaze trailing the curve of your spine as you moved. He felt the heat in his chest grow stronger, something heavier, more intense than he’d expected. His mind kept drifting back to the party, to you and Morgan, to the idea that had been slowly taking root in his brain all night.

It didn’t take long for you to notice the shift in his mood. You turned to face him, frowning slightly as you tossed your jacket onto the back of the couch. “You’ve been quiet since we left the party. What’s going on in that head of yours?”

Bucky hesitated, his mouth opening and closing a few times as he tried to find the right words. But he couldn’t. So instead, he took a deep breath and stepped closer, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you flush against his chest. “Just thinking, doll,” he murmured, his voice low as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “That’s all.”

“Uh-huh.” You raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. You reached up, cupping his face in your hands as you searched his eyes. “You’ve been weird ever since we left the party. Tell me what’s going on.”

Bucky sighed, his heart pounding in his chest. There was no escaping this now. He might as well just say it. “It’s just…watching you with Morgan tonight,” he began, his voice soft, almost unsure. “You were amazing with her. It made me think about…about us. About our future.”

Your brow furrowed in confusion for a moment, but then realization dawned on you, your eyes widening slightly. “Our future?” you echoed, your voice just above a whisper. “You mean…?”

“Yeah,” Bucky nodded, his hands tightening on your waist. “I mean…a family. Kids. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.”

You stared at him for a moment, processing his words. Then, slowly, a smile tugged at the corners of your lips. “Bucky Barnes, are you telling me you’ve got baby fever?”

He groaned, his face flushing with embarrassment as he buried it in the crook of your neck. “Don’t make fun of me, kitten,” he mumbled, his voice muffled against your skin.

You laughed softly, running your fingers through his hair as you tilted your head back to give him better access to your neck. “I’m not making fun of you. I just didn’t think I’d ever hear those words come out of your mouth.”

Bucky pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his expression serious now. “I’m not saying we have to do anything about it too soon if you don’t want to. But…I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately. Seeing you with Morgan tonight…it made me realize how much I want that. With you.”

Your heart swelled at his words, your smile softening as you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down for a kiss. It was slow, tender, full of love and unspoken promises. When you finally pulled away, you rested your forehead against his, your voice barely above a whisper. “I want that too, Bucky.”

The way he looked at you then—like you were his whole world, his future, his everything—it sent a shiver down your spine. He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “You’d make such a good mommy, doll. I could see it tonight.”

You felt the heat rising in your cheeks, your heart racing as his words stirred something deep inside you. “And you’d be an amazing daddy,” you replied, your voice laced with mischief. “I know it.”

His grip on your waist tightened, his breath hot against your skin as he kissed along your jawline, his lips trailing down to your neck. “You think so?”

“Yup, the best,” you whispered, your hands tangling in his hair as he pressed his body closer to yours, the heat between you building with each passing.

“Doll?” He mumbled into your neck. The warmth of his breath raising goosebumps on your neck.

“Hm?”

“Can I put a baby in you?”

You brain stopped function for a fraction of a second and the air midway up your throat disappeared. “I…Right now?” You asked with a hint of disbelieving laughter.

“Yeah. Right now.” With a firm nod, his metal hand squeezed at the flesh of your ass, which happened to be one of his favorite things to play with.

“Can’t wait until you’re bigger, just swollen with my kids…” The words alone made him shiver. The thought of you sitting there, belly round and full of the babies he put in there, breasts growing and tender, filled with milk for his children. That was hot. It was making a familiar tingle slither across his chest and downwards.

“So? Can I?” He inquired, rather impatiently.

“Uh, yeah-..I…okay.” You nod. Still in shock that this was even happening.

“Don’t sound very sure.” Tightening his grip, he pushes you closer to him and you can feel the bulge in his pants pressing against your core, the small ball of tension forming right under his crotch.

“Yes. Yes, put a baby in me, now.”

“Say please, Doll.”

…………………………………………………………………………………..…………...………..

Part 2…? 🤨

Part 2 is now out!

[lovelyghst]

simon riley with a virgin!gf would be such a sweet, softhearted bully. always making an effort to be so gentle with you, never pressuring you past a prolonged kiss or some touches between layers of fabric, only to turn around and relentlessly tease you in passing.

simon riley and his addiction to subtly dragging a hand up your thigh when you're in public, whispering sexual remarks in your ear to get you all hot and flustered at the worst of times.

simon riley thought the reason he worked you up so much and so often was to get you begging for it, but was proven terribly wrong when he finally broke through your reserve and even he couldn't believe the words that came so surely from his mouth.

"not yet, baby. wanna make sure you're ready for me when the time comes, otherwise you’ll end up hurtin’ yourself."

simon riley adores watching you touch yourself. whether it be from right by your side as he guides you along, or from the entrance to your bedroom as you missed his texts telling you he’d be home early. he just loves to see you struggling to finish, getting all frustrated and embarrassed when you can’t do it yourself, prompting him to reassure you that everything’s alright before he’s taking over.

simon riley allows you to use his thigh or abs to get off only when you really need it badly, which you'll need to be in tears to prove most often. it's cruel, maybe, but reticence is necessary.

simon riley will urge you on as you rub your clothed cunt against his flexed muscles, even grabbing your hips to help you finish when you lose energy and begin to slow your movements. laughs when he bounces his leg to make you lose balance and yelp, but pouts in sympathy when you whine 'cause he ruined your high.

simon riley never lets you use his crotch to get off, though, as he can't promise his own restraint after a certain amount of your whines. it's the only time the soldier feels grossly weak, and you could never seem to figure out why it’d be such a bad thing.

simon riley gives you his mouth at most, and that's only after weeks of your pining and pleading for the next step. he just had to taste you before he went mad, but nothing more. he adores your innocence far too much to take it away it so soon.

the first time simon riley eats you out is nothing short of a warm mess. he tries to take his time—and he did, bringing out every word of praise in his vocabulary as you gradually got more comfortable—but once he started with the real thing, he couldn't hold himself back.

his thick and hot tongue laps at your pussy as his eyes quickly turn dazed, big inked arms wrapped around your soft thighs to hold your sensitive frame down. you can't tell that he's just slightly grinding himself down on the bed since you're instantly entranced in watching him show you what you've been missing out on for so long.

you don't notice how severely his cock strains in his pants with your mind only able to focus on the knot in your stomach, and how pretty he looks with a slick-covered stubble and drunken smirk. he makes you come on his tongue once before the moment is quickly cut short, your blissful whimpers and raw taste driving him to mutter a sharp swear under his breath and abandon you for the restroom.

you're left on the bed alone, distraught and worried you'd done something wrong, completely unaware to the fact he's fisting his cock with gritted teeth and an unruly pace only a door away.

heavy breathing filling the space, his mind running on all the possibilities for how he could just take you right now, apologize for everything. christ, he should just give you what you want and his poor cock throbs at the prospect, but what kind of man would he be?

he bites his tongue, muffles his groans, and spills himself in his palm with clenched eyelids and fists. absolutely shameful, but bound to happen. you hear the sink run for a moment before he's returning without a single trace or reason for his disappearance. he reads the guilt on your face and soothes you with a kiss to the forehead.

"sorry for the wait, lovie. wasn't very fair of me to leave you like this, now, was it?" and you can only shake your head, tears spilling over.

and finally, simon riley with a virgin!gf who will spend the rest of his day making things up to you: resuming his services with a newfound patience, showing you all the best ways to touch yourself for when he's not there- or for when he is there, because as he reminds you often, he won't be able to take his sweet girl's virginity for a long, long time. for your own sake, of course <3

[theresascove]

𐙚. On Live

streamer!ellie williams x f!reader

your girlfriend says something on stream that causes you to rush out with tears in your eyes

tw: not proofread, loser!ellie, established relationship, modern!au, hurt/comfort, happy ending (communication is key), Ellie calls r baby, r is tired (Ellie isn’t actually mean), r overthinks, kissing

wc ✎ 1.2k

It was routine for Ellie to set up her station around this time each week. Lights, her camera—what she had planned to do during her stream. The activity was a passion of hers, something she just did since she was little and one of them magically took off over night—shooting her into success. It was a small fan base, but one nonetheless. They tuned in to enjoy whatever it was she had planned. Whether it be gaming or just playing music and talking with the viewers.

Sometimes, you were introduced. They all were aware of your relationship and all were respectful, some even shipped you two, and then there were the few that didn’t care and tried to flirt with Ellie regardless. Whether those messages popped up it always elicited a mixed response from you. One side of you feels proud to have such an attractive girlfriend, the other side feels insecure.

Out of the tens of thousands of comments talking about their love for the stream and enjoyment of seeing the two of you—sometimes you focused too much on the negative comments that came every blue moon. Anytime the two of you were on stream together and a hate message came along the chat, she could see the small ways your face faltered. She hated it. Each time she threaten to close the chat—and even go as far as ending the stream.

And now instead of being on the receiving end of such a comment from a stranger viewing the stream from their electronic device—it came from her, sitting beside you. Ellie had been playing games for the first twenty minutes of her stream, now switching to respond to the comments that flooded in when you showed. As of late you’ve joined Ellie’s streams more than usual, your presence expected now. You arrive later, usually only for a short time—but nonetheless you showed on her streams.

This time when you showed, Ellie had announced, saying, “say hi to my girl. Can’t stream without her watching over my shoulder."

Even though you knew the comment wasn’t meant to be hurtful, a familiar ache settled in your chest, making you feel unappreciated and vulnerable, as if her playful banter had crossed an unseen line. It was a first, your reoccurring presence was something you had only started to do, you didn’t think anything of it—but her comment, laced with no malice, was piercing through you. Now sitting beside her, you’re silent while the contents of your heart were falling apart—spiraling.

Maybe it’s because you’ve had a difficult week. Your job combined your late assignments and hours of studying for exams with social expectations—it was too much. To think you’ve been bothering her streaming moments was a final straw. Even just to think you’ve been bothering her was enough to bring those tears, the ones that have been waiting for the breaking point, to spill over.

Over the past few minutes you’ve been sliding out of the frame. You’re currently out of view, scrolling with no real intent on your phone. You’ve been bitting at your cheek, hoping it would be enough of a distraction to even the pain building in you. It wasn’t enough. You’re so incredibly tired and stressed and anxious and overwhelming. With such low energy, everything hit tenfold and you’re taking everything personally.

The second you feel a wet sensation land on your cheek and your eyes blur over, you’re rushing out. You waited too long to leave though because now Ellie’s aware. Her expression falling when she caught a glimpse of the shine in your eyes and the hiccup coming from you as you stepped out. The most embarrassing part? The viewers saw all of it.

She’s ending the stream without another thought, walking after you. You’re on her couch, palms of your hands pressing into your eyes while all the stress that’s been piling up comes to the front. Ellie sits beside you, couch denting beside you and her warm thigh brushes against yours.

She rests her head on you, heart breaking with each shaky breath you exhale and tear that wets your face. She doesn’t say anything, just remaining a silent but supporting presence beside you—letting you lead the situation as you feel.

“I’m so tired, Ellie,” you cry, voice pitchy, “I’m so fucking tired.”

You exhale, opening your eyes to look at her.

“Anytime I start to get caught up, something comes right along and sweeps me off my feet. I’m stuck in this continual loop. My friends and coworkers all annoy me, my work drains me, and I can barely spend any time doing my assignments. Not to mention I’m behind, but I’m too overwhelmed to start so I’m just stuck in this constant state of anxiety. Nothing I do seems to be enough, I’m never going to catch up. I just want to be on track, having all As like usual. I want to be excited to see my friends and I definitely don’t want to be taking our relationship into jeopardy too. I mean look at me, I’m being so fucking dramatic over a playful comment.”

Ellie cuts you off, shushing you, “slow down, you’re working yourself up again.”


She’s right. You’ve begun to cry again. You toss your hands up in frustration, sadness filling you again right after.

“Everything’s falling apart.”

“There’s a lot going on, feeling overwhelmed is how anyone would feel in your situation, but,” she pauses, reaching a hand to place it on your leg, “you’re not alone. Mm? I’m here, I’m not going anywhere.”

She glances down to your lips, face leaning in until she kisses you gently. Her hand comes to rest on your face, brushing the cold, clammy feeling and replacing it with her comfort.

[its-avalon-08]

what are we running from? (op81)

(monza has my heart, but what is mclaren doing? papaya rules and all that shit for more tension? our boys deserve better! enjoy this one because i shed a few tears writing it <3 )

✦ pairing - oscar piastri x female!reader

✦ genre - friends to lovers, neglect, a LOT angst, alot of tears, super long im sorry

Oscar Piastri and Y/N had always been inseparable, their bond forged in the fires of shared experiences and unwavering support. From the outside, their relationship seemed almost too good to be true—two best friends who had known each other for years, with a connection so deep that it felt like they were more than just friends, even if neither of them had ever dared to say it out loud.

It had started back in their school days, when they first met in a classroom filled with the nervous energy of new beginnings. Oscar, with his quiet determination and sharp wit, had caught Y/N’s attention almost immediately. She, on the other hand, had this vibrant, magnetic personality that drew people in, and before long, they had become fast friends.

As time went on, their friendship only grew stronger. They spent countless hours together, whether it was studying for exams, watching movies, or just hanging out at each other’s houses. They knew each other’s quirks, habits, and fears better than anyone else. Oscar could tell when Y/N was upset just by the way she fidgeted with her hair, and Y/N knew exactly when Oscar needed a distraction by the way his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

They were a team, an unbreakable pair that everyone else could only admire. Friends would often joke about how they were like an old married couple—finishing each other’s sentences, knowing each other’s favorite foods, and sharing a kind of unspoken communication that others found both endearing and perplexing.

But it wasn’t just their closeness that made their relationship special; it was the way they supported each other through everything. When Oscar started his journey in racing, Y/N was there every step of the way, cheering him on from the sidelines, offering words of encouragement when things got tough, and celebrating with him after every victory. She was his rock, his constant, and in a world that was often unpredictable, Y/N was the one thing Oscar could always count on.

And Oscar was just as devoted to Y/N. He was the one she called in the middle of the night when she couldn’t sleep, the one who listened patiently to her dreams and fears, the one who knew exactly how to make her laugh when she was feeling down. He was the calm to her storm, the steady presence that grounded her when everything else felt chaotic.

Their physical closeness was another thing that set them apart. Oscar and Y/N were never shy about showing affection—whether it was cuddling on the couch during movie nights, holding hands when they were out together, or the way Y/N would rest her head on Oscar’s shoulder when she was tired. It was the kind of closeness that blurred the lines between friendship and something more, but they had always kept it in the realm of friendship, never daring to cross that invisible boundary.

Yet, underneath it all, there was something unspoken between them, something that both of them felt but neither of them acknowledged. It was in the way Oscar’s heart would skip a beat whenever Y/N smiled at him, or the way Y/N’s breath would catch whenever Oscar hugged her just a little too tightly. It was the feeling that there was something more between them, something that could change everything if they ever dared to explore it.

But that unspoken connection, as strong as it was, also carried a weight—a fear of losing what they had if they ever tried to turn it into something more. And so, they kept it hidden, buried beneath layers of friendship, where it was safe from the risks that came with love.

They were best friends—inseparable, devoted, and utterly reliant on each other. But beneath the surface, there was a tension, a yearning that neither of them wanted to admit. And it was only a matter of time before that tension would come to a head, forcing them to confront the feelings they had both tried so hard to ignore.

<3 <3

Oscar had always known he was in trouble when it came to Y/N. From the moment they met, they had clicked in a way that felt effortless, natural—like they were meant to be in each other's lives. She was his best friend, his confidante, his comfort. But somewhere along the way, Oscar had started feeling something more. He fell for her, hard, and though every fiber of his being screamed to tell her, he never did. He couldn’t risk losing her.

But things had changed. Y/N had started seeing someone new, and for the first time, Oscar felt the ground shift beneath him. Their usual routine of late-night calls, movie marathons, and endless cuddles had been replaced by her excited chatter about her new boyfriend, her plans for dates, and the moments that didn’t include him.

flashback

The shift in Y/N’s behavior started subtly, but it grew more apparent with each passing day. Oscar noticed it first at the small gatherings they used to enjoy together—nights spent with their closest friends, where they would usually stick close, laughing at inside jokes and exchanging amused glances from across the room. But now, things were different.

It began with Jake, the guy Y/N had started seeing. At first, Oscar didn’t think much of it—he’d seen Y/N date before, and it had never really affected their friendship. But something about Jake seemed to pull her further away from him in a way that felt like a slow, painful drift.

The first time it really hit him was at a party one of their mutual friends was hosting. Oscar had arrived a bit late, expecting to find Y/N waiting for him with a drink in hand, eager to catch him up on everything he’d missed. But instead, he found her on the other side of the room, wrapped up in Jake’s arms, laughing at something he’d said.

Oscar tried to brush it off, forcing a smile as he approached. “Hey, Y/N,” he greeted her, hoping for the usual warmth in her eyes.

She glanced over at him, but the smile she gave him was distant, almost distracted. “Oh, hey, Oscar,” she replied, her tone casual, as if he were just another guest at the party.

It stung, more than he cared to admit. “What’s going on? Missed anything exciting?” he asked, trying to keep the conversation light.

Y/N shrugged, her attention already shifting back to Jake. “Not really. Just hanging out.”

Oscar’s heart sank. This wasn’t like her. She was usually the first to pull him into the fun, to drag him into ridiculous games or tease him about not dancing enough. But now, it felt like he was intruding, like he didn’t belong.

The night went on, and the gap between them only seemed to widen. At one point, Oscar found himself standing near the bar, watching as Y/N and Jake danced together, completely absorbed in each other. It was as if the rest of the room had faded away, including him.

When they finally took a break, Oscar made his way over, hoping to at least steal a few minutes with her. “So, how’s it going with Jake?” he asked, trying to sound supportive despite the knot in his stomach.

Y/N looked at him with a small, polite smile, but there was no spark of excitement in her eyes, none of the usual fire that had always drawn him in. “It’s good. He’s great, really.”

“Yeah, he seems nice,” Oscar said, forcing the words out. “We should hang out more—like old times.”

She hesitated, her eyes flickering to Jake before she answered. “Yeah, maybe. We’ll see.”

That was it. Just a vague, noncommittal response that left Oscar feeling more isolated than ever.

The next few days were more of the same. Y/N started canceling plans, saying she was too busy or that she had already made plans with Jake. When they did hang out, she was distracted, constantly checking her phone, as if waiting for a message from Jake to pull her away again.

Oscar tried to hide his frustration, but it grew harder with each passing day. He noticed how Y/N seemed to change around Jake—she was more subdued, less like herself. The playful, confident girl he knew was replaced by someone who seemed almost… unsure. She laughed at jokes that weren’t funny, agreed with things she would usually argue against, and even started dressing differently, like she was trying to fit into some version of herself that wasn’t real.

The breaking point came when they all went out to another party, this time with a larger group. Oscar watched from a distance as Y/N and Jake mingled with people he didn’t recognize, her hand firmly in Jake’s as she introduced herself with an unfamiliar edge in her voice.

It wasn’t until someone asked how long she and Oscar had known each other that the real blow came.

“Oh, we’ve known each other for a while,” she said casually, almost dismissively, as if they weren’t best friends who had shared everything.

Oscar’s heart clenched painfully. He stood just a few feet away, and it felt like he’d been slapped in the face. A while? That was all she had to say about him? The countless nights they had spent talking until sunrise, the secrets they had shared, the times they had been there for each other through thick and thin—all reduced to “a while.”

For the rest of their time together, Oscar felt like a ghost, present but unseen, and the realization that Y/N barely noticed was what hurt the most. He couldn’t keep doing this, couldn’t keep pretending that everything was fine when it was far from it. He couldn’t stand it any longer. “I’m heading out,” he muttered to no one in particular, but Y/N didn’t even notice as he slipped out the door.

Later that night, Y/N texted him, asking if he got home okay. There was no apology, no acknowledgment of how she had brushed him aside. Just a casual check-in that felt more like an afterthought.

Oscar stared at the message, feeling a deep sadness settle in his chest. He had always known that Y/N was special to him, that she held a place in his heart no one else could ever fill. But now, he was starting to realize that she didn’t see him the same way—not anymore.

Maybe she never did, he thought bitterly, tossing his phone aside and sinking into bed, the weight of her neglect pressing down on him like a lead blanket. Maybe I’ve just been fooling myself this whole time.

end of flashback

And Oscar… he was hurting.

One evening, Y/N burst into Oscar's apartment with her usual energy. “Osc, you won’t believe it! We’re going on another date tonight—he’s taking me to this really cute café downtown!” Her voice was full of excitement, but Oscar barely heard her.

He was curled up on the couch, a familiar spot that once felt warm with her presence now felt cold and empty.

“That’s great,” he mumbled, his voice lacking its usual enthusiasm.

She frowned, finally noticing the difference. “What’s wrong? You’ve been weird lately.”

Oscar wanted to say it. He wanted to shout that he was tired of being pushed aside, tired of being the second choice. But instead, he just shook his head. “Nothing. I’m fine.”

Y/N wasn’t convinced. She moved closer, sitting beside him. “Oscar, talk to me. Please.”

Oscar looked at her, really looked at her, and felt his heart shatter a little more. He was losing her, and the worst part was that she didn’t even realize it. “I miss you,” he finally admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N blinked, surprised. “I’m right here, O.”

“No, you’re not,” he replied, his tone sharper now. “You’ve been so wrapped up in your new relationship that I’ve barely seen you. You’re always with him, talking about him. And I… I’m just here, waiting for you to remember me.”

She frowned, her face softening as she reached out to touch his hand, but he pulled away. “Oscar, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize—”

“Of course you didn’t,” he interrupted, his frustration boiling over. “You didn’t realize because you’re happy, and I’m just… I’m just the friend who’ll always be there, right? The one you can ignore until you need him.”

Her eyes widened, hurt flashing across her face. “That’s not true, Oscar. You know you mean everything to me.”

“Do I?” he challenged, standing up and pacing the room. “Because it doesn’t feel like it, Y/N. It feels like I’m losing you, and it’s killing me.”

The air between them grew thick with tension, the kind that had never existed before. Y/N stood up too, tears welling in her eyes as she tried to reach out to him again. “Oscar, please don’t do this. I don’t want to lose you.”

“Then why does it feel like you’ve already left me?” he snapped, his voice breaking. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to keep his emotions in check but failing miserably. “You don’t get it, Y/N. You have no idea how much this hurts.”

“Then tell me!” she cried, her voice cracking with desperation. “Tell me what’s wrong so I can fix it!”

Oscar froze, the words caught in his throat. This was it. This was the moment he could tell her everything, but he couldn’t find the courage. Instead, he just shook his head, his eyes filled with unshed tears. “I can’t do this anymore.”

“Oscar, please don’t say that,” she whispered, stepping closer to him, but he stepped back, creating a distance between them that felt like miles.

“I love you,” he blurted out, his voice trembling. “I’ve loved you for so long, and I’ve tried to bury it, to just be your friend, but I can’t anymore. I can’t stand watching you with someone else. It’s killing me, Y/N.”

Her breath hitched, her eyes wide with shock. “Oscar… I… I didn’t know.”

“Of course, you didn’t,” he said bitterly, wiping away a tear that had escaped. “You didn’t know because I never told you. But now… now it’s too late. You’re with him, and I’m just… I’m nothing.”

Oscar’s voice trembled with a mix of anger and hurt as he stared at Y/N, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. He had tried to hold it in for so long, but the weight of her neglect was too much to bear, and now, it was all spilling out.

“You know, Y/N, I get that you’re excited about Jake. I really do. But do you even realize what you’ve been doing? Or should I say, what you haven’t been doing?” His voice was laced with bitterness, the words cutting through the air like a blade.

Y/N blinked, taken aback by the intensity in his voice. “Oscar, what are you talking about? I’ve just been—”

“No, don’t,” he cut her off sharply, shaking his head. “Don’t you dare try to brush this off like it’s nothing. You’ve been so wrapped up in your new relationship that you’ve completely forgotten about me. About us. Do you even remember the last time we had an actual conversation that wasn’t interrupted by you checking your phone? Or the last time we made plans that you didn’t cancel for Jake?”

Her mouth opened, but no words came out. She was struggling to process the raw emotion pouring out of him.

Oscar continued, his voice rising as the frustration he had been holding back for weeks finally broke free. “I’ve been your best friend for how long now? I’ve always been there for you, always. But ever since you started dating him, it’s like I don’t even exist anymore. You barely text me back, you cancel on me all the time, and when we do hang out, it’s like you’re not even here.”

He took a step closer, his eyes locked on hers, pleading for her to understand. “Do you have any idea how that feels? To go from being someone’s everything to feeling like you’re just… nothing? Like you’re just a placeholder until something better comes along?”

Y/N’s eyes filled with tears, but Oscar was too caught up in his own pain to notice. “I get that things change when you start dating someone, but you didn’t just change—you fucking disappeared. And I’m left here, trying to figure out where the hell my best friend went. The person I could always count on, who knew me better than anyone… she’s gone.”

His voice cracked, the anger giving way to the deep hurt he had been carrying. “And you know what’s worse? I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember. But I was too scared to say anything because I didn’t want to mess things up. I didn’t want to lose you. But now… it feels like I’ve lost you anyway.”

Y/N’s breath hitched as she took a step back, her heart pounding in her chest. She had never seen Oscar like this, so raw and vulnerable, and it terrified her.

“I tried to be happy for you,” Oscar continued, his voice quieter now, filled with a deep sadness. “I tried to convince myself that I could just be your friend and that would be enough. But it’s not enough, Y/N. Not when you treat me like I’m nothing.”

He looked away, blinking back the tears that threatened to fall. “I thought I meant more to you than this. I thought we meant more. But maybe I was wrong.”

Y/N’s heart shattered at the sight of him, at the pain in his eyes. She reached out to him, desperate to hold him, to comfort him, but he pulled away again, shaking his head.

“I can’t be around you right now,” Oscar said, his voice broken. “I need time… I need to figure out how to stop loving you.”

“Oscar, please don’t go,” she begged, tears streaming down her face. “We can talk about this—”

But Oscar had already turned away, grabbing his keys and heading for the door. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I just… I can’t.”

With that, he left, leaving Y/N standing in the middle of the room, her heart aching with the weight of what had just happened. She sank to the floor, sobs wracking her body as she realized that the one person she needed most was the one she had pushed away.

And Oscar, driving aimlessly through the city, felt more alone than he ever had in his entire life, knowing that he had finally spoken his truth, but at what cost?

time skip

Y/N was left alone in the apartment, her mind reeling from everything Oscar had said. As the door slammed shut behind him, she crumpled to the floor, her chest tightening with an overwhelming sense of loss. The tears came in uncontrollable waves, each sob tearing through her as she gasped for breath.

How did I not see this? she thought, her mind racing. How could I be so blind?

She buried her face in her hands, the memories flooding back—every moment they had shared, every laugh, every hug, every time Oscar had been there for her, and she had taken it all for granted. They played like a cruel montage in her mind, the pieces finally falling into place.

I’ve always loved him, she realized, the truth hitting her like a punch to the gut. But I was too scared… too scared of losing him, of ruining everything.

She thought back to every time they had cuddled on the couch, his arms wrapped around her, making her feel safe and warm. She had always known there was something more between them, something unspoken, but she had pushed it down, terrified of what it would mean if she acknowledged it. Because if I lost Oscar… I’d lose everything.

Her phone was in her hand before she even realized it, her fingers trembling as she dialed his number. Each ring felt like an eternity, the silence on the other end growing heavier with every passing second.

Voicemail.

“Hey, this is Oscar. I'm probably driving really fast or I'm not in the mood. Anyway I’ll get back to you.”

The beep echoed in her ears, and she quickly hung up, her heart pounding as panic set in. She dialed again, desperately hoping he would pick up this time, that she could tell him everything she was feeling before it was too late. But once again, it went to voicemail.

“Oscar, please,” she whispered to herself, her voice shaking as she redialed, only to be met with the same message. Each time the voicemail beeped, she hung up, feeling the hope drain out of her.

Finally, after the fifth failed attempt, she couldn’t hold it in any longer. The voicemail beeped, and she began to speak, her voice thick with tears.

“Oscar, it’s me. Please, please, just listen to this… I—I’m so sorry,” she started, her voice breaking. “I’m sorry I didn’t see it, sorry I didn’t realize how much I was hurting you. I’ve been so selfish, so blind, and I didn’t even notice what I was doing to you.”

She paused, trying to steady her breathing, but the tears kept coming. “I… I’m terrified, Oscar. I’ve always been terrified of losing you, of messing this up, of losing the best thing in my life. And that’s why I never… I never let myself feel what I was feeling. I thought if I pretended it wasn’t there, we could stay the same forever.”

Her voice cracked as she continued, the words tumbling out in a desperate rush. “But I do love you, Oscar. I love you so much it hurts. And the thought of losing you… of you walking out of my life… I can’t bear it. I was so scared that if I admitted how I felt, everything would change, and I’d lose you forever. But now I realize… I was losing you anyway.”

She choked on a sob, pressing a hand to her mouth as she tried to hold herself together. “Please, Oscar, don’t shut me out. I know I messed up, I know I hurt you, but I need you to know that you mean everything to me. You always have. And I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, that I didn’t see it until now.”

Y/N wiped at her tears, her voice trembling as she spoke the final words. “Please, Oscar, don’t walk away. I love you… I love you so much, and I’m begging you to give me a chance to make this right. Please… please don’t leave me.”

The message ended, the silence that followed felt deafening. Y/N let the phone slip from her hand, her body shaking with sobs as she curled up on the floor, consumed by the fear that it might be too late, that she might have lost him for good.

Please, Oscar, come back to me.

time skip

Oscar sat on a bench near the parking lot, his car parked a few meters away. The night was quiet, save for the occasional rustle of leaves in the wind. His heart felt heavy, his mind spinning with everything that had just happened. He didn’t know where to go, or what to do, so he just sat there, staring blankly into the distance, replaying their fight over and over again in his mind.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, breaking through his thoughts. He pulled it out, seeing Y/N’s name flash on the screen with a voicemail notification. His thumb hovered over the play button for a moment, hesitant. Part of him didn’t want to hear what she had to say, afraid it would only hurt him more. But another part, the part that had loved her for so long, needed to know.

With a deep breath, he pressed play.

As Y/N’s voice filled the air, raw with emotion and thick with tears, Oscar’s heart clenched. Each word she spoke was like a dagger, cutting deeper into the hurt he was already feeling, but there was something else too—something that made his breath catch in his throat.

“I… I’m terrified, Oscar. I’ve always been terrified of losing you, of messing this up, of losing the best thing in my life. And that’s why I never… I never let myself feel what I was feeling. I thought if I pretended it wasn’t there, we could stay the same forever.”

He closed his eyes, letting her words wash over him. He could hear the desperation in her voice, the regret, the love she had been too scared to admit. It mirrored everything he had felt for so long, everything he had been too afraid to say.

Tears stung at the corners of his eyes as the message continued, her confession unfolding in a way he had never imagined but had always longed for. The voicemail ended with her pleading, the words echoing in his mind, “Please, Oscar, don’t walk away. I love you… I love you so much, and I’m begging you to give me a chance to make this right. Please… please don’t leave me.”

He sat there, stunned, the silence that followed almost unbearable. He played the message again, needing to hear it one more time to believe it was real. As Y/N’s voice replayed, full of vulnerability and love, something shifted inside him. The anger he had felt earlier began to melt away, replaced by a deep, aching love that had never gone away.

Just as the message ended for the second time, Oscar became aware of a presence behind him. He turned around slowly and saw Y/N standing a few feet away, her face pale and tear-streaked, her eyes wide with uncertainty. She must have found him while he was listening to the voicemail, and now she stood there, silent, waiting.

For a moment, neither of them said anything. The weight of the situation hung between them, both of them trying to process what had just happened. Finally, Oscar broke the silence, his voice soft and tentative.

“You… you really mean that?” he asked, his gaze locking onto hers, searching for any sign that this was all some kind of cruel joke.

Y/N nodded, her voice trembling as she spoke. “Every word, Oscar. I mean it. I’ve been so scared of ruining what we had that I didn’t realize I was ruining it by pushing you away. But I do love you. I’ve loved you for so long, and I’m so, so sorry it took me this long to realize it.”

Oscar stood up, taking a hesitant step toward her. “I didn’t want to lose you either,” he admitted, his voice thick with emotion. “I thought if I kept my feelings to myself, we could just keep going the way we were. But it was killing me, Y/N. Watching you with Jake… it felt like I was losing you, and I didn’t know how to stop it.”

Y/N took a shaky breath, stepping closer until they were just inches apart. “You were never going to lose me, Oscar. You’re my best friend, and you always will be. But… I want more than that. I need more than that. I love you, and I want to be with you, if you’ll have me.”

Oscar’s eyes softened, the pain of the past weeks slowly fading as he looked at her, really looked at her, and saw everything he had ever wanted. “Of course I’ll have you,” he said, his voice breaking slightly. “I’ve wanted that for so long, Y/N. I love you too, more than anything. I just… I didn’t think you felt the same.”

She smiled through her tears, reaching out to take his hand. “I do, Oscar. I’m sorry it took me so long to see it, to admit it. But I’m here now, and I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”

Oscar pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly as if he was afraid she might slip away if he let go. “I don’t want to lose you,” he whispered into her hair, his voice filled with relief and love.

“You won’t,” Y/N whispered back, burying her face in his chest. “I’m not going anywhere, Oscar. I’m right here, and I’m not letting you go.”

They stood there in the quiet night, wrapped in each other’s arms, the weight of unspoken words finally lifted. It wasn’t going to be easy, but they had each other, and that was all that mattered. In that moment, they both knew they had found something worth fighting for, something that had always been there, waiting for them to finally see it.

[arijackz]

PICK A CARD: What are your most alluring qualities?

🂺 "Beauty of whatever kind, in its supreme development, invariably excites the sensitive soul to tears." ~ Edgar Allen Poe~

Disclaimer: This is a general reading, take what resonates. This is meant to help uplift your spirit and highlight qualities about you that transcend space and time and manage to energetically get picked up by lil ol' me. Who then tries to put that inexplicable beauty into words. :)

p1 → p2 ↙︎ p3 → p4

☀︎ Pile One ☀︎ (nine of cups, magician rev., moon rev.,hanged man, page of cups, queen of cups)

⇾ Pink. Yellow. Fuzzy. This feels so warm, there's heat around my waist. Maybe you’re a dancer? Do you like to wear very big pullovers or extra garments around your waist? Corsets? I’m getting a strong emphasis with an attraction toward your waistline. Also, a very airy feeling in my ribs. ⇾ You’re fucking hilarious. Your ability to uplift any room’s vibe is extremely attractive. Strong water energy, Cancer, Pisces, Scorpio, 4th, 8th, 12th house. But not as emotionally heavy. Not the thunderstorm but the sunny, dewy morning after. Literal sunshine. You may have a signature scent. Coconut, vanilla, brown sugar. Before shuffling your cards, my nose was congested but while I was channeling, I had these moments where air would pass through the room, clear my sinuses, and the tingling feeling in my ribs came back. ⇾ You’re a high. A nice clean, mellow high. The brief moments in time when your body completely relaxes and you start flowing with the wind. People are addicted to how you make them feel. Your energy feels like the first hit of that oui. wink wink. People get a hit of your energy and it feels like an escape. This is my intuitive and sensitive dreamy pile. There is a lot of emotional depth here, you’re enigmatic. Being in your presence transports people to a simpler time in their lives. A period where the sun shined brighter, the air was cleaner, and all the color in the world felt more vivid. People can sense the storm raging in the back of your head but can visually see your perseverance and ability to not let darkness rot you, keeping this light and airy energy. It’s almost superhuman, you almost seem not real. You’re impossibly infectious. ⇾ You have a lot of natural inner abundance, you attract a lot in life even if you don’t realize it. I’m getting moksha house energy, a strong wheelhouse of influential power. The duality of your sweet, caring but reserved introspective nature is sexy as fuck, to be honest. It is hypnotizing and ignites people. I also see you have attractive skin, whether it’s clear, glowy, or cute moles, I'm not sure. But something about your skin people just can’t help but want to trace and admire. Jupiter/Pisces energy. Sugary sweet and in your own world, I feel like I have a toothache. Rare kind and light energy. Your attractiveness and romantic influence on people is one of your natural talents pile 1. I can see that with the Jupiterian energy I'm getting. You got 3 major arcana cards back to back. You’re a light in the dark and people are moths to a flame.

"You're pretty like a memory"

☀︎ Pile Two ☀︎ (ace of swords, the tower, knight of swords, 6 of swords rev, the magician, 3 of wands)

⇾ Well for starters, you’re SEXXXYYYY. Not just physically, but your wit, intelligence…people’s attraction to you gives me the image of Joan of Arc’s admirers. People perceive you as gorgeous, brave, and intimidatingly capable. ⇾ I’m getting Uranian energy, Yes, something about you is very mercurial, but this is next level. In modern astrology, Uranus is a higher octave of Mercury and symbolizes putting these higher-level ideas into action. Your ability to think of a goal and go after it is attractive. Or have a belief and fiercely defend it. I don’t know if you’re aware, but you have an innate ability to monetize or profit off of your ideas and skills. Especially with all this sword energy, the 3 of wands, AND the magician. Mane, you make shit HAPPEN. You make shit shake. A lot of people say they’re going to do things they have no intention of starting or say things they don’t actually believe. You are a rare exception to that. You put your money where your mouth is, and the amount of willpower and intelligence you possess is intimidating yet so very very attractive. ⇾ There’s gotta be some major concentration in your natal chart, a stellium, a reoccurring modality, sign, not sure but your energy is uniquely focused and intense. You may sometimes battle with excess mental energy. Anxiety, overthinking, etc. You’re a harbinger of change. Wherever you go, major changes follow and there is something very important about your energy. Your footprint in this world is larger than the average person’s. Your sense of self and your loyalty to your authenticity and values is highly admirable. *whispers* maybe even enviable, watch out for negative intentions and trust your discernment. ⇾ Whether you’re a man or woman watching this, you intimidate a lot of men. You’re the creme of the crop so to speak. You are the human embodiment of a warrior. Strategic, brave, and your fire cannot be dimmed. You have this eternal energy to you. Your name will be sung long after you leave this Earth. There will be tales and songs about you. There is an emphasis on making a change and legacy here, 10th house/ Capricorn Energy. Solar and Jupiterian energy is possible too, there's a lot of king semblance here. I feel like your frame is very attractive. Defined muscles especially around your neck and shoulders. Fox attractiveness. Sharp features, or some special emphasis with your lips, jaw, and teeth.  There is a lot of sexual attraction in this pile. I was shuffling and getting flashes of old Wattpad enemies to lovers and dark academia rivalry fanfiction 😭😭. I’m getting a headrush. Maybe you feel like a headrush to people at times.  You might look good in darker, cool-tone colors or have dark hair. ⇾ You make people aware of their shortcomings and that triggers them. You trigger strong emotions in people. People see you as superior to many, you’re either singled out in a crowd positively or negatively. People either love or hate you but it is undeniable that you are sexy and very fucking capable. You also have the ace of wands at the bottom of the deck…like I said…sexy and capable.

"Don't look at me with those eyes"

☀︎ Pile Three ☀︎ (The tower, queen of swords, three of pentacles, queen of wands, 9 of wands)

⇾ This is my dark feminine pile. 🎶Sheee’sssss a maaaann eeeaaatttttttuuuhhhhhhhh🎶, Ironically, the black cat got chosen for this pile. The tower paired with the two queen cards screams shadowy feminine to me, but balanced. The three of pentacles create a bridge between your intense fire and air energy. You balance your shadowy, detached and your fiery, passionate nature and it creates this intoxicating dichotomy that people can not get enough of. ⇾ You also are reserved and guarded, people can tell it is hard to gain your trust and gain access to your inner world so people subconsciously try hard to earn your favor. When I was laying out your cards my eyes got heavy and I felt like I needed to go to bed. You have a very sultry sluggishness to you. Think about Corpse Bride, how her eyes were always low, she moved slowly, and her voice was low. You have a dark veil over your character that is very alluring. There may be an 8th house or Mars emphasis in your natal chart. Make sure to check your planetary midpoints. ⇾ I am getting a Gabriette Betchel vibe. There's a darkness around the eyes of the man standing in the nine of wands. There is a draw to the shape of your eyes, especially if they droop a little or you have sunken eyes. Maybe you like dark makeup if you’re into makeup. This pile definitely had a crush on Morticia Adams growing up. You ARE Morticia Adams. Pretty Rave Girl is playing in my head, I don’t associate your energy with the rave aesthetic but I get the sense that people fantasize about you. You’re naturally mysterious and detached and most people only have an idea of you rather than a one-on-one connection. You may face a lot of projections, there’s fog around people’s perception of you. Plutonian-type power, insanely magnetic, with Neputinian-type glamour, veiled and shapeshifting. There may be some WLW baddies in this collective. ⇾ I feel like a very small number of people truly know you, you are reserved and selective with your energy and let me tell you, that is the most attractive practice a human being can implement. You are a once-in-a-lifetime personality that people dream about embodying. YOU ARE AN AESTHETIC. Well not exactly, I’m not limiting you down to your appearance. But you are the ideal embodiment of the dark feminine, man-eater aesthetic. The other three piles felt like concepts that I tried to piece together to paint a picture, your pile feels like a tried and true timeless dark sexiness that we've seen in cinema and music videos throughout the years. There is range here though, I’m feeling anywhere between Morticia Adams to Effy from Skins. The allure of Hollywood’s bombshells mixed with the angst and self-guardedness of America’s outcasted teen icons. I’m seeing an emerald snake, if you’re into sidereal astrology you may have ashlesha placements. I could write an entire essay about the fucking bullshit you've endured and THRIVED FROM but this is already getting a lil lengthy lol. Just know that you are living testament to the saying “I get knocked down ten times but get up eleven.” Stay sexy pookie.

"You got your HP Lovecraft... your Edgar Allan Poe"

☀︎ Pile Four ☀︎ (high priestess, two of swords, 4 of pentacles, the empress, knight of pentacles, 10 of cups)

⇾ UHHHH THE DRAAMMAAA. Bae, the high priestess FLEW out. You’re angelic. No mf backtalk. I don’t know about the stereotypical angel, but something about your presence is otherworldly. So intense but hard to conceptualize, can’t classify your energy as anything less than angelic. People see you as something holy and righteous. A theme of fairness and divinity is strong here. I’m seeing the virgin (Virgo, purity) and a gavel (libra, balance and fairness.) Your energy is always in a state of balance and harmony. Temperance did not come out, but I’d bet my top dollar that it would have if I kept pulling. ⇾ I’m hearing a steady water stream and the flaps of bird wings. People come to you for peace and tranquility. Your aura is serene and healing. Being near you is like transporting to a haven with clean water, a sustainable garden, fresh air, and BUNNIES. An image of a ton of white bunnies just came to me. This is not an 18+ reading, so I won’t go into detail but bunnies represent fertility and high sexual energy. You have an abundance of creativity. The best representation of people’s attraction to you I can put into words is like seeing raw energy. There’s this movie that came out in 2017 called Annihilation and there’s a scene where the main character comes into contact with pure energy and is so entranced by it that she just stares at it head empty, blankly in complete awe. THAT is how people see you. Like c’mon high priestess, the empress, 10 of cups, don’t ever fucking question yourself. You have an undeniably divine aura. ⇾ You’re a big deal, you're energy is very enlightening and calm but there is a heavy weight to it. Everything you do in life makes an impression and holds weight. Your thoughts matter, your conversation changes lives, and your very presence makes an imprint on people’s souls. Virgo 6th house, libra 7th house, Scorpio 8th house, Pisces 12th house. ⇾ You also have a very stable, Earthy nature to you with the 4 of pentacles and the Empress. To me, this is pure wealth. You will see a lot of luxury in your lifetime. You are a giver, you have a lot to offer the world. You are the epitome of “fill my own cup and let it overflow to those around me.” You share your abundance and prosperity follows you. You have the divine understanding that life is all about balance and what you give, you receive tenfold. ⇾ People think you look really good in white. Blonde hair could be a good look on you. Any aesthetic that involves purity or innocence really suits you. Personally, I’d say you look fucking killer in red hair. ⇾ With the ten of cups, I’m getting major wish-fulfillment vibes. When suitors see you they hear an angelic chime in their ear (I hear it right now) and music starts playing. DREAM GIRL. By the strictest definition too, you’re very dreamy and your allure is cloudy, people are afraid if they touch you, you’ll float away. You could have prominent Neptune placements. Do you like to sing? Harmoney and melodic sounds keep popping up. I'm thinking of Euterpe, the muse of music. ⇾ Your abundance leaks into your appearance (look for aspects to your ascendant, especially Neptune, Jupiter, and the Sun), you look very youthful and hydrated. It’s going to sound creepy but from a biological, primal-lizard brain perspective, you look fruitful and like you'd bear many blessings and children. Your skin is well hydrated and plump, your hair is strong and luscious, and you look overall very healthy.

"Be Not Afraid."

ahhh that was so much fun! to those who resonated with a pile, thank you for giving me the pleasure of experiencing your energy and reading for you. if you liked it let me know :)

[cassie48]

∙ 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘱𝘩𝘦𝘤𝘺 ∙

Dark!Paul atreides x pregnant fem reader

(Smut included)

• pt2 •

࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎

Only one day after Paul’s near death experience, there was more drama, 𝗢𝗳 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗿𝘀𝗲. Since Paul drank the water of life, he had been slightly 𝗗𝗶𝗳𝗳𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗻𝘁..

He was very, very protective over you. He always had been, but after waking up from your tears, he was worse. It had only been a day, and you were already becoming tired of it.

This morning, as you walked around the temple, some Fremen came up to you, greeting you and taking your hand into their own. Although this had happened to you multiple times now, you still became uncomfortable and scared. They saw you as their queen. You were their messiahs lover.

Paul, out of nowhere came walking up behind you, immense power in his walk, putting fear on the men holding your hand.

He wakes straight up to you, ripping their hands from yours

“la talmasuha.” ( don’t touch her ), he spat wrapping his arm around your waist. The two men ran away quickly.

“Paul…they weren’t trying to hurt me” you said softly.

“My love, whether they were or not is not the point. No one is allowed to touch you.” He said, his voice darkening at the last part.

You huffed, your face scrunching up in annoyance, before looking at him, your frown faltering slightly. 𝗗𝗮𝗺𝗻 𝗶𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝗻𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝘆 𝗺𝗮𝗱 𝗮𝘁 𝗵𝗶𝗺.

He pulled you into a hug, his hands going to your bump, which was now quite big. You sighed into the hug, leaning your head on his shoulder.

“How’s our son?” He asked smiling.

You laughed lightly “our son is fine, full of energy though. Woke me at all hours from kicking” you huffed.

Paul laughed at your words “just like his father” he said pulling away slightly, to place a kiss on your bump. He pulled away, giving your forehead a kiss.

“Come with me” he said, taking your hand in his leading you to the room full of Fremen. They had all been praying there since yesterday. Once Paul told everyone that the prophecy was true, they went crazy, praying immediately. He gently led to to the room slowly, knowing your body was tired.

As you two made your way through the crowds, the Fremen praised to themselves, touching you and Paul on the shoulders. It was all lovely, until one of the men on your right kneeled beside you, placing his hands on either side of your swollen belly, which was covered with a sunset orange dress.

Paul whipped his head around as soon as he felt you stop, but when he saw that man with his hands all over you, he couldn’t control himself.

“kayf tajru ealaa lamsiha.” ( don’t you dare touch her). He yelled at the men, shoving him off of you.

“Paul!” You screeched as he shoved the man.

He said nothing as he took you in his arms again bringing you into the centre of the room with him, you two stepping up into what looked like a little stage.

Before speaking he turned around to you “ (y/n), if anyone ever touches you again, you tell me” he ordered, before turning with you to face everyone.

You stepped back a little, leaning against his side, not liking everyone looking at you. You buried your face in the back of his shoulder, hoping he didn’t do something too stupid.

Paul began speaking to everyone in the Fremen language, you understood some bits.

“I am paul Mua’dib atreides, Duke of Arrakis!” you heard him say in English. You stared at him, shocked at his confidence and power. But….you kind of liked it.

He turned and looked at you taking your hands in his. “hal yatamanaa 'ahadukum 'an takun zawjatuka?” He yelled at the audience

(Do any of you wish she was your wife?)

You stared as many looked away in fear and respect. He looked at you before continuing.

“an takun kadhalik abdan. 'iinaha tahmil tifli. milki” he told them, a dark anger in his tone. (She never will be. It’s my child she carries. Mine)

He continued on threatening other men, telling everyone he was the messiah and he would make Arrakis dune again. He also boldly said he’d make a claim for the emperors throne. This made you smile, these people deserved to live in their own planet without suffering.

After a few more minutes, Paul left the room bring you with him. You two spoke about plans on the way to your room.

Once there he helped you out of your dress, into a night dress. You lay on your bed, waiting for Paul to join you. Once he did, you turned and lay your head on his chest.

“Paul do you promise to stay with 𝗨𝘀 forever?” You asked, your hand on your belly. Fear in your voice.

“Of course my love. Why do you ask?” He said tucking some hair around you ear, away from your face.

You looked down “well..I don’t know I mean, you might be emperor and well..you might not want me anymore” you said your eyes filling with tears.

“(Y/N), you don’t seem to understand. I’ve seen my future, 𝗢𝘂𝗿 future. You are meant to rule along side me. Wel belong together, forever” he said kissing you softly.

“Promise?” You asked as he wipped your eyes.

“I promise sweetheart” he said leaning down and kissing you passionately. He pulled you up a bit, leaning in deeper.

“Mhm Paul” you whispered as his kisses went down your neck slowly.

“What, you want more?” He teased kissing you.

You nodded into the kiss, your hands going to his dark curls. His hands traveled all over you as he kissed you passionately.

Eventually, his hand went underneath your night dress and he slipped his finger into your panties. He teasing traced his fingers over your aching core.

“Paul!” You yelled out with a pout.

He smirked before slipping a finger inside you, kissing you as you moaned out loudly, he moved in in and out while his other hands traveled under you night dress, to your breasts.

You begged him for more, tears swelling in your big eyes. He obliged undressing as well.

He carefully slid inside you, both of you moaning out in pleasure. He pulled your night dress down slightly to have access to your perky breasts. He sucked them while pumping in and out of you.

You both rocked your hips, your bodies moving together like one, as you kissed passionately. Eventually you found yourself coming close to your climax.

“Paul I’m gon- I’m gonna cum” you whispered.

“Me too sweetheart” he said in your ear. A moment later you both came undone, him inside you.

You yelled out loudly, pleasure erupting from inside you.

“Thats right, you let them know your mine” he growled.

After you both came down from your high, he cleaned you up and gently slid your night dress onto you properly, while redressing himself.

“I love you Paul” you whispered before falling asleep on his chest.

“I love you too” he whispered back, watching you as you drifted off to sleep, his hands wrapped around your bump. Although his prophecy was long and full of adventure, 𝗬𝗼𝘂 𝘄𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗯𝘆 𝗳𝗮𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗺𝗼𝘀𝘁 𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁.

࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎

I’ll try to do pt3 soon too!!

[the-daydreaming-show]

❝never a tear, baby of mine❞ — Jason Todd

dick's version

Jason was a quiet kid. So quiet and calm that he didn't was totally a child, more was like a mini adult.

NOTE:

This is like REALLY late, because I had problems with my internet and the power on me going out, so I apologize for that.

As always, thanks to our beta reader: @igotmessymind.

And wiht no further ado, I hope you find wait worth it, I apologize again and that you for reading!!

XOXO ELLA.

This story is part or the BATMOM SCARLET WITCH UNIVERSE that I have create. I hope you enjoy!!!

𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓.

WARNINGS: Mentions of child neglect; Jason (not his actual) mom death.

Contrary to popular belief, Dick was always the son who kept you and Bruce on the edge of your seats. 

People were always surprised when you told them this. Probably, because with those blue eyes and adorable dimples, your eldest son knew how to fool people so easily. But the boy had grown up in the circus and had more energy than a thunderbolt. You couldn't count the times you found him hanging from the ceiling lamps, practicing his pirouettes. He was the reason there was a strict rule at Wayne Manor about not taking your feet off the ground without adult supervision.

Jason, your baby, he was easy. People were shocked at this statement as well.

People expected him to be a little savage whenever you guys made a public appearance, whether it was at a gala or going to the market.

Yes. You had to keep him from talking to the press, because he had a habit of being verbally deadly, but other than that he was always the calmest of kids. But other than that, he never left his calm character at all times when being in public and in private as well. 

This unfounded popular belief probably had something to do with the boy being taken off the streets by you and your husband. Literally.

Your husband kidnapped a child from an alley in Gotham on a given winter night.

Mmmh, maybe Bruce was your most chaotic boy and not Dick like you thought.

You weren't in the batcave that night, so Alfred was the one supervising the computer. But when it got particularly late, just before the sun began to rise, you woke up to find that your husband still wasn't sleeping clinging to your waist like he usually did. So you decided to go downstairs to see what was going on.

You meet Alfred, waiting with a tray with three cups of freshly brewed tea.

“Are we expecting someone, Alfred?”  you asked as you approached the man preparing everything with elegance.

“That's right, Miss” the man said, looking up with amused eyes “Master Bruce has found company on tonight's patrol” he gave you the look of a father disappointed but not surprised by his son's actions. But before you could say more or ask questions, the sound of the Batmobile in the distance made you approach the platform where the car typically parked.

Bruce jumped out of the car, in his Batman suit, without any injuries that you could see, then leaned over to help a small body out of the vehicle. He was a boy, skinny to the bone, in your eyes, dressed inappropriately for the weather, and looking around with startled eyes. You looked at your husband in confusion, Bruce could practically see the question mark on your forehead. So he walked over to you, while the boy was too gawking at the cave to notice that you guys were talking to the side.

“¿Did you kidnap a child again?” you asked in a worried whisper.

“No” Bruce defended himself, pulling off the hood of his suit so that you could see all of his beautiful face in front of you. “His name is Jason” he explained to you while they both looked at the boy for a moment. Jason had stepped away from the Batmobile to look down at the edge of the platform at the void below you, his cheeks against the metal of the railings. (You were mentally grateful to have convinced Bruce to put those railings all over the cave, after that Dick started spending more time there years ago). “And I found him trying to steal the tires from the Batmobile. He was alone, and he told me that he intended to sell it to buy food” he told you, and you instinctively looked at said car.

That beastly car had almost been desecrated by the little hands of a hungry child, who didn't seem at all affected by the idea of almost robbing THE Batman. You found the situation amusing.

“Really?”, you asked your husband, smiling amused. 

All while Jason was looking fascinated at the ceiling of the cave and wondering: ¿Where did the lights hang from?. He couldn't see the roof of the place.

“Yeah. And he almost got away with it.” Bruce seemed almost proud of the boy's actions, and you couldn't feel the same way. Press your lips together in an attempt not to laugh out loud. 

“¿And how does all that explain your kidnapping him?” you asked teasingly, to which Bruce rolled his eyes in exoneration and giggled impishly at it.

“You are Bruce Wayne's wife” the boy's voice made them both look at him, but the boy was not intimidated and kept talking. “Which makes sense, because if Bruce Wayne is Batman, obviously his wife will know.” he said, more like a thought out loud than a conversation with you. “My mom used to say that she would die from one of the shoes you put up and that they showed on TV, but in the end she died from the drugs, not your shoes” he explained naturally. To which you threw your head back a bit in surprise at such a natural statement about something that must have been very sad. Looking at your husband and his eyes told you it was the first time he heard about this. “I hope you don't mind, Mrs. Wayne.” the boy apologized quickly, suddenly very aware that he was talking to two of the richest people in Gotham (and the world as well) “B told me I could spend the night here. But don't worry tomorrow, in the morning I'll leave without causing any problems” he quickly explained to you.

You looked at your husband again, and he left a memory in his mind for you to see as an explanation. He showed you how he had found the boy, how Bruce had talked him into agreeing to let him buy something to eat and then offered him a place to sleep, because the boy admitted that he was all alone. With a dead mother and a father who was in prison, the boy lived on the streets of Gotham, surviving as best he could. Jason hadn't trusted him at first, which was understandable. Who knew what he had seen living on the streets of a city like Gotham. So Bruce did the only thing he could think of to gain the boy's trust, so he could get him to safety, as he took off his mask. And Jason, faced with such a show of honesty, agreed to get on the Batmobile to return with Bruce to the cave. (Or, Bruce put the boy in the car before he could get over the shock of the news. It depends on how you look at it.)

“Oh honey. Don't worry, it doesn't bother me at all, we have plenty of space available” you assured him with a sweet smile to which the boy smiled back. It was true, since Dick had moved in with the Titans, there was too much empty space for your liking. “Come, sit down and have some tea, it will help with the cold” you said, pointing up the stairs to the main platform of the cave.

“Cool!” the boy exclaimed as they started walking. Bruce instinctively reached for your hand, not wanting you to stray too far from him, just because.

Then Jason ate a dozen of Alfred's cookies, drank all his tea, and at the end, Bruce let him touch the batcomputer, watching the boy's fascination with all the buttons. (Of course, the latter was under your and Bruce's watch. You didn't want the boy to activate some self-destruct protocol or something). He played with the satellite map for a while, showing you the places he had been and the school he used to go to before his mother died. Then he started to yawn, and you were sure the sun should have risen outside by that point.

“Well, it's time to go up” you said when you saw him yawn widely for the third time. “Come on” you stood up from your seat next to him to offer him your hand. The boy frowned at you, severely confused.

“¿Up where?” he asked, looking at your hand suspiciously, but rising to take it and follow you nonetheless. You had that effect on him. You were so pretty, and warm, and kind that he thought to himself, there was no way you were real, surely all of this must be a cruel hallucination of some kind.

“Up home, Jay” you told her as you turned to be greeted by a Bruce who had already come out of his suit and was waiting for them both on the stairs to the elevator. “We're below Wayne Manor” you explained, thinking that he was confused as to what was above your heads and why they would go there.

“Will you let me sleep in your mansion?!” the surprised boy asked. There was definitely something wrong there, there was no way two of the richest people in the city would let him sleep in his house, in one of his beds, with expensive mattresses and even more expensive sheets. Impossible.

“Of course” you said with a sweet smile, “We have many empty rooms and now one of them is yours”

“Your room is ready, young Jason.” Alfred told him, joining the walk to the elevator. “Though maybe an extra cookie or two was left in the room by accident. I hope that's not a problem for you” he said, smiling complacently, at which the boy laughed mischievously. You gave him a look that Alfred pretended not to catch, and they all went on their way while.

“I didn't think you would let me sleep at your house.” the boy admitted shyly, looking at his shoes, once again thinking aloud.

It took you a second to realize that Jason had thought she'd leave him sleeping in the cave, like a stray dog, and it broke your heart. You promised yourself to do everything you could to make that little boy feel like he deserved nothing less than the best in the world.

Jason didn't leave the mansion after that day. 

Social Services didn't put up much resistance to the adoption, for two reasons. Firstly, you and Bruce already had a pretty good record of adopting and raising Dick. And second, stirring up the issue too much would show how they hadn't looked for Jason after he had run away from his last home. From what you've seen, his file only contains basic information leading up to the fact that he was supposed to be in foster care with 10-15 other kids, but clearly they've been on the streets for quite some time. And Jason seemed to have adjusted quickly when the caseworker came to visit for the first few weeks, at least to her standards. But in your eyes, the child was far from having adapted to the idea of being part of the family.

Jason gets up early, before everyone else in the house.

You had learned from the experience with Dick that establishing a strict bedtime schedule was important in the long run. So you knew he was sleeping because you watched him before you went to sleep yourself. So the boy sleeps well and you could confirm it. He had admitted to you that it had been difficult in the early days to sleep at night because he could never really be asleep while living on the streets. Something about the heavy blankets over him made him fall asleep peacefully. His lights went out before he could even finish laying his head on the pillow. Of course, this one you had invested a lot of money in more blankets for the child, which was the only thing that Jason had allowed to be bought for his room.

He assured you that the room was fine as is, and it did not need to be changed. What you'd called bullshit all along, because there was no way a kid would like a room that was the closest thing to a blank page. But you hadn't pushed him, waited until he was more comfortable in the new  environment. 

So the boy was sleeping in a guest room he didn't want to make entirely his own. He was up before anyone else in the house, even Alfred. He would get ready and go down to breakfast alone. He got what he needed by scaling the counter and cabinets if necessary, leaving Alfred to clean up the marks on his slippers. This until Jason overheard him, after which he started taking off his sneakers before climbing up to find the cereal. He ate breakfast in silence, looking out the kitchen window at the patio, then washed everything he had used by hand, even though there is a state-of-the-art dishwasher in the kitchen. He then left the kitchen and got lost in the mansion. 

Bruce found him in the mansion's library a couple of times. Jason said that he was trying to practice his reading, since he hadn't been to school since before her mom died because he had to take care of her when her dad was arrested. Your husband offered his help, but the boy refused. And since Jay realized that his hideout had been discovered, he began to roam the mansion, picking random rooms to hide in during the day when you and Bruce began to keep him company in the library. 

The child hides and avoids both of you. You at first thought that was a repeat of Dick's first few months, that Jason was mad at the world. Consequently, you would expect anger and yelling anytime you ran into Jason around the mansion. You mentally braced yourself for the thought of all that chaos again, how he would sneak out of school when he started once the holidays were over and the whole package was over. 

This time, you were ready and prepared to help him with that rage. You won't let it consume you like Dick did for a long time because you didn't know how to handle it. This time you will do well.

But Jason's eyes would light up when you or your husband greeted him in the mornings after meeting him at the house. He clung to the hands of one or both of you every time you went out into the street. He would hug your waist when you hid him from the paparazzi in the park. (You had a no-photos rule for your kids, only official photos approved by you and your husband, so you and the paparazzi didn't have the best relationship in the world.) He let you guys hug him and look at him without problem. He never initiates affection, but he clung to it when it was given to him, both from you and from Bruce, or Alfred even.

So you were confused, to say the least.

However, you had learned your lesson with Dick. There were situations in which you had to be active and aggressive to help your children. So you talked to Bruce and you both decided it was time to talk to Jason about this peculiar pattern.

Then Alfred told you that if they both faced him at the same time, it would be too intimidating for the boy, causing him to shut down more than help.

Blessings be Alfred. He has always been the smartest in the house (don't tell that to Bruce).

Like every night, Jason had already gotten ready and tucked themselves into bed. Also, he had offered to help Alfred with the cleaning like every day, but the butler had refused as he did a lot lately. So he decided to do the whole night routine without bothering you: he brushed his teeth, put on his pajamas, got into bed and read a book, like you usually offer to do. It cost him less than before, but still some words were complicated. 

You arrived shortly after he had finished reading his fourth story of the night and had accidentally gotten hooked on reading another one. You knocked on the door softly as you opened it.

“Oh, you're already in bed,” you commented, surprised that the boy had done everything himself. Usually, he lets you help with all of this without a problem, so you're disappointed that he won't let you help him.

“Yes, and I just read one story,” he said, quickly trying to hide that he had disobeyed the one-story rule. Jason didn't want you to be angry. He knew you wouldn't hurt him, but he feared your disappointment more than your fury.

“Really?”, you asked excitedly. You knew how hard he had worked to improve his reading these past few weeks to prepare for school. “That's amazing, honey,” you told him as you closed the door softly and walked to sit next to him. Jason smiled happily at your tone of pure joy and pride in his accomplishment.

“Yes,” Jason said as he closed the book and left it on the nightstand, excited to tell you about his progress, “I still have a hard time with some words. But I will fix it before school starts.” He made it clear to you right away, so don't worry.

The truth is that Jason didn't want to bother. Not you, not Alfred, not Bruce. In his mind, that was the way to be a good son. That was what his parents had taught him.

Willis Todd hated it when Jason was in the way. He always ran into him around the house (although that was probably beer-related), and that ended badly for Jason. So Jason learned quickly to stay out of the way so as not to be in the way, not in the sight of his parents, because that was good. His mother never said anything against that arrangement, so he always assumed she agreed.

When his dad left, disappearing without any notice (Jason eventually found out on the streets that he had been arrested and sent to prison), it became difficult for his mom not to see him since she had to do everything. But she was too high to notice half the time. And the other half, when she was aware of him, she wasn't aggressive towards him, she went from hugging him lovingly to crying on her shoulder. As if Catherine were the child and Jason was the father, she was comforting. Then she didn't get up after one dose, and the police came after he called an elderly woman who lived next door to her to ask her to call an ambulance. Then they put him in a couple of foster homes. But no one paid much attention to him, and it wasn't worth putting up with the other children, especially the older ones, who enjoyed tormenting him for being smaller. So he ended up on the street, taking care of himself. It was more natural for him to depend on himself alone than to let them take care of him.

“Well,” you said, settling next to him against the headboard, “but there's no need for that. That's why you're going to school — to learn,” you explained as you ran your hand through his curls. “It's okay if you don't know everything before that.”

“But I don't want to be behind the rest of my classmates, they surely already know how to read very well,” he explained regretfully, somewhat embarrassed.

Only once had his parents been called to the school he had gone to in Park Row. The teacher meant well, for sure. But telling her father that Jason seemed to need a little more help than usual with his reading and that it would be a good idea to move him to a school with a special program for kids like him only made her father see it. And that was never something good. He didn't want you to feel upset with him for that, either. 

“It doesn't matter what other children know or don't know, Jason,” you assured him lovingly. “It matters that you learn without fear of not knowing. It's not a bad thing to not know how to do something that's hard for you to do, sometimes,” you tried to explain, and the boy nodded slowly, processing the information you had given him.

Jason thought for a moment, absorbing what you said, but he was not sure how to respond in a way that would make you happy but not be a nuisance to your daily life. But you didn't let him get to a question because you asked him one in return.

“Jason, my dear,” you called, breaking the boy from his thoughts, who looked at you with big, blue eyes. So precious your baby was. “I have a very important question for you, and I need you to answer me honestly,” you asked him seriously, to which the boy adjusted himself with a worried frown to face you more.

It reminded you of Bruce, who made the same gestures when you talked to him seriously.

Your heart tightened with pride at how your two boys, Dick and Jason, were beginning to imitate Bruce so soon after meeting him. Despite all of his doubts, he was someone the kids immediately looked to as an example. You reminded him repeatedly, despite his complaints, because he needed to be reminded that being Batman wasn't the only way he could make a difference to people. He did it every day in his home, with your children, and with you.

“Yes, Mrs. Wayne - Sorry, y/n,” he corrected himself quickly, but you thought nothing of it despite the way he cringed in place at his own mistake.

“Jay, do you like being here with me, with Bruce, and with Alfred? Are you happy being part of this family?” you asked a little fearfully, sounding as soft as possible so that it didn't feel like an interrogation.

Jason was stunned. His blue eyes looked at you in confusion: Why would you ask such a question? Of course, he was happy, Jason had everything he could need to survive and the company of you and Bruce. Why would you think he wasn't happy with you?

You saw the confusion painted on his face the moment you asked, so you decided to elaborate a little more on the situation.

“You see, Bruce and I have noticed that you don't seem to be around the house much even though you're here. You even get up to have breakfast alone. It seems like you are hiding from us, Jay. Which is why Bruce and I are worried” you began to explain in a soft tone, “Did something happen? Is there something bothering you?

“No, there's nothing that bothers me,” Jason assured quickly, so worried about the situation. “I just don't want to be in the middle,” the boy explained, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. Which made your heart break, and you wondered why he would believe that.

Would there have been any comments from you or Bruce?

Or something you guys did that gave Jason that impression?

Whatever it was, it needed a solution because it couldn't be further from the truth. Personally, you had missed having a child in the house, and so had Bruce, despite his attempt to pretend that Dick's departure hadn't bothered him.

Your husband and eldest son had a very ugly fight before he went to live in the Teen Titans Tower. He had arranged for you and Alfred to serve as intermediates. But that didn't change your oldest son's decision to move out of the house. A lot of his stuff was still at Wayne Manor, but he wasn't, which made it a little depressing for you.

“Why do you think you're in the middle?” you asked sadly.

“Well, I know it bothers adults when kids are all over them needing things and asking questions. So I try not to be too intense with you because I am very grateful because now I am part of the family.” Jason shrugged as he looked at his hands, trying to remove his cuticles. A nervous habit that you had noticed.

Unsure of what to do, you played it safe and hugged Jason over the shoulder with one arm, holding him close to you, while with your other free hand, you stopped the suggestion of pinching your cuticles by taking his hand and caressing his plasma instead.

You thought for a moment about how you could handle the whole situation without the need to abruptly destroy the belief system and give it a crisis. You also didn't want all of this to sound like a reprimand for believing something that couldn't be further from the truth, because it wasn't his fault. But you weren't going to leave things like that.

“You know, Jay. Bruce and I are not like other adults," you started feeling a little like Mean Girls' mom and her 'I'm not a regular mom, I'm a cool mom', which made you want to roll your eyes, but you kept going. “We love having you around. Dick got us used to that, you know, so we’d love for you to get in the middle as much as you like Jay,” you explained, and the boy looked at you with wide eyes, a gleam of hope in them.

“Really?” he asked doubtfully.

“Really serious,” you assured him with a smile, which Jason couldn’t help but quickly spread. “Besides, you can always know without a doubt that as long as you are in the middle of your father and mine, you will never have to worry about anything. Because you will be safe and sound,” you assured him gently, moving a hair from his forehead and then kissing the area lovingly.

“I like that,” Jason whispered, as if the thought had escaped him, looking at you with stars in his eyes. He really liked that idea.

Jason ran down the stairs while you calmly entered the house with bags of clothes in hand. Alfred was behind you with more bags and resigned to the fact that you had once again bought extra clothes for the whole family. Yes, you also bought him a couple of new sweaters, the kind he liked, but he insisted they were too expensive.

You didn't finish passing through the living room towards the stairs when Jason ran up and hugged your waist without thinking twice. Now, at thirteen years old, it would probably be time for you to start asking him to take care of the force with which he threw himself into his arms whenever he saw you. But the truth is that you didn't want him to. If you two fell, so be it, but you would never ask Jason to walk away. Not after what it was like the first time your son was in the house.

“Hello, sweet boy,” you said to Jason while hugging as best you could with the bags in your arms. “I got you another one of those hoodies that you said you liked. I got it in red, I thought that color would look good on you”.

Jason didn't stop hugging your waist as the three of you went upstairs to leave the bags so he could try on what you had bought him. Nor when, after trying everything on and being satisfied with his new clothes, you went back downstairs to have tea and eat cookies in the library. Not even when the two of them left there to greet Bruce when he arrived late from the Wayne Enterprise, and he received the same hug, but with more balance than you. Dick arrived, and Jason was still clinging to your waist until all sat down to eat dinner.

“Was I like that?” Dick asked in a mocking whisper to Alfred.

“Was?” mocked back the butler “Master Dick, you are still exactly like that”

𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭: @some-lovely-day @simonsbluee @yuki-chan23 @miyakana @myst3batz @otchae @d3m0n8ch1ld @marsenbie @mynameisnotlaura @andieperrie18 @igotmessymind @amarawayne @kodzukenmaaa @mellowdiy @noah-uhhh-what @blarba-girl @dead-sane-stuff @huhuhhuhh @kimmis-stuff @undecided-shipper @poppyalice2001 @lafrone @voodoo-writer @lilvampirina @astrial @maliagurl @kazhaelfuhghi @poppyalice2001 @totallynotme420 @calsjack @igotmessymind @pato-spoiler-27 @urminebutidontwantyou @cluelessteam

[justabigassnerd]

Finally Safe

Pairing - Tim Bradford x reader

Word count - 6,179

Warnings - kidnapping, drugging, talks of malnourishment, sad Tim hours, angst, fluff, inaccurate medical scenes, swearing

Summary - after being missing for years, you and Tim are finally reunited

A/N - hey y'all! this was an idea suggested to me by @scarletstarrs so I hope I did your idea justice because I loved exploring this idea so much (and all the angst that came with it). anyways I won't ramble, as per y'all please send in requests, feedback, and enjoy!!!

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When Lucy entered the station, ready for the morning roll call, she was both shocked and confused to find Tim Bradford missing from the building. Other than being forced to take leave after being shot, Tim had always shown up to work no matter what.

“Hey, have you seen Tim?” Lucy asks, sitting down in between Jackson and Nolan who both shrug, shaking their heads. Before the three could begin theorising about where Lucy’s training officer had gone, Sergeant Grey stepped up to the podium and began to talk, detailing what was going to be happening during the day. Just before he sends everyone off to start the day, he addresses Lucy.

“Officer Chen, you’ll be riding with me today. Dismissed.” Grey says, his dismissal causing everyone to stand up and make their way out of the room to start their day. As Grey begins to exit, Lucy follows after him.

“Sergeant Grey, while it’s an honour to ride with you today. Where’s Officer Bradford?” Lucy asks, trying her best to sound respectful while enquiring about where Tim is.

“Officer Bradford is taking a personal day,” Grey replies simply, gesturing for Lucy to go and get the war bags to load the shop. At Grey’s gesture, Lucy began to make her way to get the bags, silently wondering to herself why Tim had taken a personal day and whether he was okay.

Across LA, Tim was sitting at home. He had barely had the energy to move out of bed when he woke up but he had managed to drag himself over to the sofa after making sure Kojo had his breakfast. Kojo, while not having lived with Tim long, had picked up on Tim’s melancholy mood and curled up next to him, whining softly as Tim studied a picture on his phone. Tim let out a soft sigh, tears filling his eyes as he studied the picture, a picture of him and you, his wife, on your wedding day. He was embracing you happily, lips pressed to yours.

“I miss you so much,” Tim whispers, unable to remove his gaze from the image of you. You had gone missing three years ago to the day, and Tim could never forgive himself for it. At Tim’s whisper, Kojo shuffled around, resting his head on Tim’s lap, sensing Tim’s pain. Kojo’s movement briefly pulled Tim’s attention away from his phone.

“I’m sorry buddy,” Tim says softly, stroking the top of Kojo’s head. Since you had been taken, Tim had consistently taken a personal day on the date you were taken with each passing year you remained missing. Most detectives involved in your case had told Tim that it was time to give up. The chances were high that whoever had taken you had killed you and had moved on. But Tim wouldn’t just give up on you. He couldn’t. Deep down he knew you were still out there somewhere, and he needed to find you. As Tim continued to swipe through the album of photos he had of you and him, Kojo began to paw at his leg slightly, as if trying to drag him out of his slump.

“I know. Come on, I’ll take you for a walk.” Tim says, knowing that keeping Kojo inside because of his upset would just not be worth it. Tim manages to get up from the sofa, shower and change before grabbing Kojo’s lead. As he left the house with Kojo trotting along by his side, he was silently grateful for the dog’s presence in his life. Before Kojo came around, Tim just wallowed in his house, hiding away from the world when he missed you too much. But now he had someone relying on him, and he couldn’t let Kojo down. After reaching the park, Tim let Kojo off the lead so he could explore while he sat on a bench. As he watched Kojo, he couldn’t help but imagine you sat by his side. You had always wanted to get a dog since long before marrying Tim and he had always put it off, claiming he wanted to wait. He felt so guilty for owning Kojo while you were missing but he knew that when he found you, you’d love Kojo and you’d so quickly become his new favourite person.

After a while, Tim whistled for Kojo to come back over so they could walk back home and as they made their way home, Tim’s phone buzzed, alerting him that he had a message but he opted to wait until he was home to see what it was. When he finally made it home, Tim collapsed onto the sofa and pulled out his phone to see a text from Angela.

‘How are you?’

That simple message was enough to bring the smallest of smiles to Tim’s face. Angela had been Tim’s entire support system since the day you went missing. She had checked in with him regularly and was someone to lean on during his bad days. When she had been promoted to detective, Angela had promised Tim she would do what she could to try and pick up any leads in your missing persons case. Tim had been so grateful for Angela’s support over the last few years, she was the person he needed to help him navigate your absence in his life.

‘Could be better.’

Tim could never lie to Angela. She had ways to see right through him, even over text so he knew there was no point even attempting to act like he was feeling okay on a day like this.

‘Do you want to come over? Have some company?’

Angela’s offer of company was not unusual, although the last few times Angela had asked if he wanted her to come over after her shift had finished, but now with her on maternity leave, both she and Tim had a whole day to console each other.

‘That would be nice. I’ll be over in a few.’ 

Tim types out and sends his response, once again forcing himself up from the sofa and petting Kojo, promising him he’d be back soon before grabbing the keys to his truck and making his way to Angela’s house.

When he arrived he barely even knocked on the door before Angela opened it, a soft gentle smile on her face as she took in Tim’s appearance. It was obvious to her that he hadn’t slept well the night before but she couldn’t blame him. If Wesley had gone missing she knows she’d be absolutely beside herself with worry and anticipatory grief.

“Come and sit down,” Angela says softly, resting a hand on Tim’s back and guiding him to the sofa, easing herself down alongside him, her gentle hand never leaving his back as she moves it up to rub his shoulder lightly. For a few minutes, the two of them sit in silence before Tim lets out a shuddering breath.

“I miss her so much.” Tim manages to say, his voice choking as tears begin to well in his eyes.

“I know, Tim,” Angela says sympathetically, her hand continuing to rub soothing circles on his shoulder in an attempt to keep his breathing steady.

“It hurts.” Tim manages to say, hand hovering near his heart, swearing he could feel his heart pounding louder and stronger with each second.

“I can’t imagine the pain. But I’m here for you. You’re not alone.” Angela says softly, feeling her heart break more and more at Tim’s broken state. She was the only person who got to see this side of Tim in these moments and it made her more and more determined to find you. After a few moments of comforting whispers from Angela and teary sniffles from Tim, he turned to face her, eyes still shining with unshed tears.

“Do you think we’ll even find her alive?” Tim asked, uncharacteristically pessimistic about your case, making Angela shocked.

“She’s got to be out there somewhere. And we’ll find her.” Angela says, pulling Tim into a careful hug.

“It’s my fault she’s gone,” Tim mutters against her shoulder, a confession no one had heard from him before.

“Don’t say that. You’re not to blame.” Angela says, pulling away slightly to look him in the eyes as he shakes his head.

“I am.” Tim insists, his right hand moving to fiddle with his wedding ring, a movement Angela didn’t miss. She knew he would take the ring off when he was on duty, but when he was off duty it would be restored to its rightful place and he’d often find himself twisting it around on his finger out of habit.

“Why do you say it’s your fault?” Angela asks tenderly, hoping she’d be able to help Tim realise that it wasn’t his fault.

“We had an argument that night. A stupid one at that, I can’t even remember what it was about, maybe about chores or something? But y/n got pissed at me and she said she needed to go on a walk to clear her head. I was pissed too and the moment she left I just decided to go to bed. I was too angry to do anything else. If I had gone after her none of this would’ve happened. She’d still be here with me.” Tim whispers, feeling like his throat is closing more tears welling in his eyes as he relives that night.

“Where are you going?” Tim asks, pausing his angry pacing to glare at you from across the room.

“For a walk. I can’t be around you right now.” You reply, your voice just as venomous as his as you grab your keys, reaching for the door handle.

“Fine.” Tim spits angrily, turning on his heel and stalking off again as you open the door, exiting and angrily closing the door behind you while Tim storms to the kitchen, grabbing himself a beer from the fridge.

After a couple of beers, Tim decided it wasn’t worth staying up waiting for you any longer. You had taken your keys and he knew you’d come back whenever you were ready to so he took himself to bed, practically passing out as soon as his head hit the pillow.

The next morning, Tim woke up and found your side of the bed still empty, and when he reached across to search for any remaining body heat, he found that your side was still cold, like no one had slept in it all night. Figuring you had spent the night on the sofa, Tim sat up and got himself out of bed, all anger from the night before gone.

“Hey, Baby, I’m sorry about last night.” Tim enters the living room, rubbing his eyes as he enters, stopping in his tracks when he realises you’re not in the room, nor was there any evidence you had even slept on the sofa. At the sight of the empty room, and your keys still missing from the key bowl, Tim felt his stomach turning with anxiety. He just knew something bad had happened to you. You wouldn’t just go silent on him or not come home at all.

After trying to call your phone and getting no answers, Tim knew he had to file a missing persons case when he got to work. He wasn’t going to rest until he found you.

“Tim, listen to me. It is not your fault. You couldn’t have known. Neither of you could’ve known there would be a psycho out there. You can’t blame yourself for something you never could’ve anticipated.” Angela says softly, her voice shaking Tim from his thoughts. She could imagine the guilt Tim was feeling, but she knew it wasn’t his fault.

“It is. If I had just-”

“Okay, I’m going to stop you right there. There’s nothing you could’ve done. I know just as well as you that y/n is stubborn as anything, so if she wanted to go and get some air after your argument then she would’ve done it regardless. You can’t predict the future and y/n wouldn’t want you to blame yourself.” Angela says, her voice was soft yet firm so she can get her point across to Tim. She knew Tim had a habit of blaming himself for things out of his control but she had no idea that he had carried guilt from your disappearance silently and had been beating himself up about it for so long.

“I just need to find her. I need her safe and home with me. I didn’t even tell her I loved her the last time I saw her.” Tim says, fiercely wiping at his eyes to stop any tears from falling.

“I’m working with detectives to pick up the dead ends from y/n’s case. One of them will lead us somewhere I’m sure. Between you and me, working y/n’s case is the only work Wesley is okay with me doing while on maternity leave. He knows how important it is to us and he’s promised me that if we catch the asshole he’d ensure he spends the rest of his life behind bars.” Angela says reassuringly, wanting to help restore Tim’s faith in finding you.

“Thank you, Angela,” Tim says quietly with a nod. With the topic seeming to be at an end, Angela decides to change the subject and while Tim had always jokingly complained about helping Angela with wedding planning, he was more than happy to do so on this day. While he helped Angela plan various parts of her wedding, he couldn’t help but think about the time he had spent planning his wedding with you.

“Tim, we can’t seat my uncle next to your brother-in-law!” You exclaimed with a laugh, curling further into Tim’s side as he wrapped his arm around you, chuckling lightly to himself, both of you focusing on the seating chart Tim had drafted.

“Sure we can. It would be hilarious.” Tim says, squeezing you closer, his hand winding around your waist.

“You want our wedding to result in a fistfight?” You say, an amused tone to your voice as you raise an eyebrow.

 “Mmm, might not be the best idea then,” Tim murmurs, leaning close to press a kiss to your cheek.

“The best idea is to make sure they stay as far away from each other as possible.” You muse, unable to stop the smile covering your face as Tim continued to press kisses to your cheek.

“We’ll figure it out.”

By the end of the day, Tim had spent most of his time at Angela’s house and he had been beyond grateful for her company and her willingness to help him through a day like this. When Wesley got home, Tim decided that was when he should be heading home himself, knowing Kojo was probably waiting for him.

“I’ll see you around,” Tim says quietly, giving Angela a gentle hug, pulling away and giving Wesley a friendly nod before making his way out of their house, heading to his truck to head home. Unbeknownst to Tim, the moment he left, Angela’s phone buzzed and when she read the text she knew she had to step into work again. Whether Wesley liked it or not.

The next morning, Angela made her way to the hospital, meeting with other detectives once she got there before being led to a room that had a girl inside. Angela figured she couldn’t be any older than her early twenties. After getting a quick brief from the other detectives, Angela made her way into the room, smiling softly to let her know she wasn’t a threat.

“Hi, Bella. I’m Detective Lopez, but you can just call me Angela.” Angela introduces herself, easing herself down onto one of the hospital room chairs as Bella eyes her carefully. Angela could tell that the last thing Bella wanted was to be questioned but it was protocol, whether she liked it or not.

“I promise I’ll make this quick, just tell me what happened,” Angela assures, pulling out her notepad and pen.

“A few months ago, some guy grabbed me off the street while I was making my way home. He kept calling me ‘Samantha’ the whole time. No matter how many times I told him my name was Bella he just ignored it.” Bella explains, tears welling in her eyes as her arms wound around her middle.

“Can you describe this man? And where he was keeping you?” Angela asks carefully, making notes on her notepad as Bella nods.

“He looked like he was in his forties, his hair was greying and he had a huge burn scar on his right arm, like all up it. He was keeping us in the woods. It sounds really cliche now that I say it out loud. He’d moved us around a bit before he found this old abandoned cabin on the outskirts of the city. He managed to get power and water so he figured we could just stay out there, like some delusional family or something.” Bella says, and Angela immediately picks up on her choice of words.

“I’m sorry, you said ‘us’. Was there someone else?” Angela enquires, glancing up from her notebook.

“Yeah, there was another woman, she might’ve been in her thirties? The guy kept calling her ‘Vivian’ but I’m guessing that wasn’t her name.” Bella explains with a nod while Angela pulls her phone out of her pocket, hurriedly scrolling through it and finding a picture with you in.

“This other woman. Did she look like this?” Angela flips the phone around, showing Bella the picture, watching as her eyes widen in recognition.

“Yes! That’s her!” Bella exclaims, looking over at Angela.

“She’s alive,” Angela mutters to herself, unable to believe the news.

“Do you know her?” Bella asks, noticing Angela’s reaction and how hurriedly she was typing into her phone.

“She’s a friend of mine. She’s been missing for a while.” Angela says, tucking her phone away as she talks.

“She’s the one who helped me escape. She saw the opportunity and she encouraged me to go for it.” Bella says, watching Angela’s reaction carefully.

“That sounds like y/n. She always looked out for others.” Angela says with fondness, remembering how you had always put others above yourself.

“I want to help her,” Bella says, a strong, newfound determination in her voice.

“Can you recall where the cabin was? If you can that would help us track her down.” Angela asks, listening carefully as Bella explains all the details she can remember of her escape from that cabin. After getting as many details as Bella could remember, Angela excused herself, exiting the room and immediately calling Grey on her way out, informing him of everything and letting him know that he and the LAPD needed to act fast before you were moved again.

Back at the Mid-Wilshire police station, police officers were starting to prepare for an operation on the outskirts of Los Angeles just as Lucy and Tim entered, ushering their recent arrest to be processed. They quickly became aware of the atmosphere around them so while Lucy was processing the arrest, Tim stepped out to find Grey.

“What’s going on?” Tim asks after tracking down Grey.

“I’m getting some people together for an operation. But I need you and Officer Chen to stay on patrol.” Grey says, gathering his war bags and barely glancing Tim’s way.

“I want to help,” Tim says, confused as to why Grey isn’t letting him get involved with an operation, not when he had as much experience as he did.

“This isn’t a matter to discuss Officer Bradford. You’re one of my best patrol officers and I need you out on the streets with Officer Chen while we do this. Is that understood?” Grey asserts, facing Tim and staring him down as Tim straightens up.

“Understood, Sir,” Tim says, feeling his heart sink at not getting to be involved with an operation.

“You’ll get in on the next operation,” Grey says, clapping Tim on the shoulder quickly before making his way towards his shop, leaving Tim to head back to Lucy, finding her after she had just finished processing their arrest.

“Hey, did you find out what everyone’s doing?” Lucy asks, looking up at Tim curiously.

“There’s an operation going down. I don’t know what it’s for but Grey wants us on patrol.” Tim says with a shrug, beginning to turn on his heel and make his way towards their shop, annoyance evident in in his body language.

“Do they know this would be a great learning opportunity for me? I want to get as much experience in operations as possible. Why aren’t they letting us help?” Lucy asks, following behind Tim.

“I don’t know, Boot. But it’s not my place to challenge Sergeant Grey’s orders.” Tim says firmly, glancing over his shoulder at Lucy who nods, still obviously upset about not getting to help with an operation while she’s still in training.

“Come on, get in. We’ve got a patrol to finish.” Tim then says with a shrug, both of them reaching the shop and getting in, ready to continue their patrol.

After a couple of hours of patrolling, Tim and Lucy had stopped to grab some coffee and while they stood outside their shop, talking and sipping at their drinks, Tim’s phone rang, making his eyebrows furrow when he saw Angela’s name displayed across his screen.

“Angela.” Tim greets as the phone reaches his ear.

“Tim, you need to get your ass to the hospital right now,” Angela says, making Tim raise an eyebrow before he thinks of a reason why she’d be asking him to come to the hospital.

“Are you having the baby already?” Tim asks, a panicked expression crossing his face.

“What? No. Look, just come to Shaw Memorial as soon as you can.” Angela says, an urgency in her voice that Tim hasn’t heard in a while.

“Okay, I’ll head over now.” Tim concedes, bidding Angela goodbye before hanging up the phone and shoving it away in his pocket.

“We’re going to the hospital. And no Angela is not giving birth.” Tim says, able to predict what Lucy was about to ask from a single look.

“Then why are we going to the hospital?” Lucy then questions, both of them getting into their seats just before Tim starts the drive to the hospital.

“No idea. Maybe one of my C.I’s ended up in hospital and they wanted to talk to me.” Tim says, shrugging lightly, wondering to himself why it was Angela had summoned him to the hospital when she’s not supposed to be working. The closer they get to the hospital, the more Tim starts to suspect that it has something to do with you. Angela had assured him that the only case she was working while on maternity leave was yours. But as he parked in the car park for the hospital, he started to picture the worst possible case scenario as he bursts through the hospital, tracking down Angela within minutes, practically leaving Lucy behind.

“What’s happened?” Tim asks, studying Angela’s expression carefully as she grabs his wrist leading him to a nearby hospital room and letting him look through the window. At the sight, tears immediately began to well in his eyes, stepping forward slightly towards the door before Angela stopped him.

“The doctors are working on her now. They’ll get you when she’s stable. I just wanted to show you that we found her.” Angela explains softly, watching as Tim refuses to tear his gaze away from the window.

“She’s alive,” Tim whispers, tears in his eyes as he watches the doctors hooking you up to an IV drip and heart monitors.

“She is. We found her.” Angela says softly, carefully guiding Tim back to the waiting room and helping him ease himself into a chair just as Lucy finally found the pair.

“What the hell? Why did you leave me behind?” Lucy demands, approaching Tim who barely processes her words, his gaze locked on the floor in front of him as his knee bounces impatiently.

“Not now, Lucy,” Angela says, holding a hand out towards Lucy to silence her while her other hand rests on Tim’s shoulder, squeezing it softly.

“Wait, what’s going on?” Lucy then asks, noticing the unusual behaviour Tim was exhibiting and how Angela was protecting him fiercely.

“We’ll tell you later,” Angela says, knowing that with the state Tim was in, she shouldn’t go spilling his personal life.

After half an hour of waiting, a doctor approached Angela since they only recognised her but she made sure to bring Tim into the conversation as well as make sure the doctors knew he was your husband so that he would make any and all medical decisions that you couldn’t make.

“y/n had been drugged upon being found, I assume something that was something done so that the perpetrator could move her without the risk of her running away. She’s also showing clear signs of dehydration and malnourishment so we’ve got her on IVs to give her what her body needs. She’s still asleep but would you like to see her?” The doctor explains, glancing at the tablet in his hand before looking at Tim who nods. The doctor gestures for Tim to follow him to your room but before he leaves he turns to Angela.

“Message me if you need me,” Angela says softly, watching as he nods once more before following the doctor and being granted access to your room. As soon as he enters the room, he grabs a chair and pulls it up along your bedside, one hand taking your hand in his while his other hand runs through your hair.

“I’m here, Baby. I’m so sorry. I love you.” Tim says, repeating the three sentences like a mantra as he squeezes your hand softly. He felt more tears welling in his eyes as he took in your form. Your cheeks were hollowed and you had dark circles under your eyes. The more Tim watched you as you slept, the worse his guilt got. He couldn’t help but hate himself more and more for letting you leave the house that night. As the day progressed, Tim found himself uncharacteristically talkative with you, rambling about everything you had missed.

“I’ve got a new rookie. Her name’s Lucy Chen. You’d like her a lot actually. She reminds me of you in a way.” Tim says, his thumb absentmindedly rubbing the back of your hand as he talks. He knew you and Lucy would get on well. After all, Lucy was someone who was unafraid to speak her mind around Tim and you’d admire her fire. By the time night fell, Tim was sure he’d covered everything that had happened since you had gone missing. He felt a yawn slip past his lips which made him attempt to shake the sleepiness off. He didn’t want to fall asleep and then risk waking up to find out that this had been a dream. He couldn’t bare to wake up to find you missing again. However, as the night progressed, Tim got more and more tired and he began to struggle to keep his eyes open so he laid his head down on your bed, making sure he was facing up at you, keeping your hand in his the whole time before letting his eyes slip closed, hoping this wasn’t all a dream.

You woke up slowly in the early hours of the morning and as you slowly open your eyes, you couldn’t help but smile tearily when you recognised the sleeping face of your husband. The face you had dreamed of seeing for years. You watched Tim quietly for a moment, admiring the man you loved so much before your need to talk to him overtook you and you squeezed his hand softly, rousing him almost instantly. His eyes blinked open and you felt a tear slip down your cheek.

“Hey, Tim.” You whisper softly, your voice slightly hoarse from lack of use. Tim couldn’t even bring himself to talk, he just squeezed your hand, tears welling in his own eyes.

“You’ve grown your hair out a bit.” You observe quietly, gently extracting your hand from his to run your hand through his hair, having been used to his shorter haircut for too long.

“You like it?” Tim asks with a teary laugh.

“I love it. I did always tell you it would look nicer if you grew it out a little.” You muse softly, enjoying the feeling of running your hand through his hair with the slight added length. As another tear rolls down your cheek, Tim reaches out and wipes it away, his touch as soft and as gentle as you remembered it.

“I’m so sorry, Baby. I let you down.” Tim apologises, his hand lingering on your cheek as you lean into his touch, desperately craving the love and comfort only Tim could provide you with.

“It’s not your fault. I’m the one who left that night.” You say, slowly retracting your hand from Tim’s hair, returning it to your lap as Tim shakes his head.

“I should’ve stopped you.” Tim argues, making you shake your head in response.

“You couldn’t have known, Tim. Look, let’s not argue. We haven’t seen each other in years I don’t want to ruin this by arguing. It’s no ones fault but the ass who took me.” You say, your voice soft yet firm as Tim nods lightly in understanding.

“I missed you so much.” Tim then whispers, his face displaying every emotion he was feeling in the moment.

“I missed you too.” You reply softly. Glad you were reunited with your husband again.

After a few days stay in hospital, you had finally been cleared to go home which you were excited for. Your days in the hospital were mostly spent talking to lawyers and detectives to get all the evidence needed for the case against your kidnapper. But Tim had all but refused to leave your side through it all, and some of your friends came to visit you after news had spread that you had been found. You even got to meet Tim’s newest rookie, Lucy, who like Tim predicted, you got on brilliantly with. And while you had appreciated people wanting to visit you, and that the detectives and lawyers wanted to get that guy behind bars as soon as possible. But you just wanted to go home, to spend some time with Tim in the comfort of your own house, as well as getting to know the family member you had missed the arrival of. When Tim had told you about Kojo, he had not missed the way your eyes lit up and he knew it was going to be love at first sight for both you and Kojo. After all the paperwork had been sorted and Tim had brought you a comfy change of clothes from home, you finally headed out to Tim’s truck, letting him help you into the vehicle and settling in to the passenger seat.

The drive back to yours and Tim’s shared house was relatively silent, you listened to what was on the radio and occasionally chatted with Tim until he pulled into the driveway. You waited upon Tim’s orders for him to round the truck and open the door for you, helping you out carefully before leading you to the front door.

“Are you ready?” Tim asks softly, hand interlocked with yours as you both stand in front of the door, staring it down before you nod lightly, giving Tim the sign he needed to unlock the front door, easing it open and ushering both you and him inside, quickly coming face to face with Kojo.

“Hey, you must be Kojo. Tim’s told me all about you. I’m y/n.” You introduce yourself to the dog, watching his reaction carefully as he approaches you, sniffing at your outstretched hand for a few seconds before gently licking your hand and allowing you to pet him.

“Oh, aren’t you the sweetest boy?” You praise, petting Kojo happily while Tim jokingly rolls his eyes.

“It took less than a minute for me to be replaced by the dog.” Tim jokes, making his way into the kitchen to grab some drinks and by the time he returned, you had curled up on the sofa with Kojo and Tim couldn’t help but smile at the sight of having you home again. After placing the drinks on the coffee table, Tim sat down on your other side and wrapped his arm around your middle, pulling you into him and pressing multiple kisses to the side of your head as you smile softly, cherishing the attention and love Tim was giving you.

By the time night fell, you were ready to crash and Tim knew it. He chose to carry you to the bedroom, sitting you down on the bed and finding one of his old police academy shirts he knew you loved to wear and a pair of flannel pyjama bottoms, handing them to you before turning around to get changed himself. When you were both ready for bed, you climbed under the covers while Kojo curled up at the foot of the bed. You instantly curled into Tim’s side, burying your face in his chest.

“I’ve missed this so much.” You mumbled, smiling to yourself when Tim tightens his grip around your waist.

“Me too. I love you so much.” Tim whispers, kissing the top of your head before you tipped your head up so Tim could press the softest of kisses upon your lips.

“I love you too.” You reply softly, eyes full of love as you look up at Tim before curling back into him, quickly falling asleep in his arms the way you had been dreaming off the past few years.

In the middle of the night, Tim stirred, aware of the way the two of you had shifted throughout the night. You were now lying with your back to Tim and his arm was wrapped around your middle but he quickly withdrew it when he noticed you twitching and crying in your sleep. He instantly knew you were having a nightmare so he flicked his bedside lamp on and reached out to gently rouse you, placing his hand on your shoulder and calling your name softly until you bolted upright, eyes wide open and tears staining your cheeks.

“y/n. Baby. It’s okay. I’m here. You’re safe.” Tim says softly, his hand reaching down to hold yours, his actions only stopping when you practically curled into him instantly, changing his action from holding your hand to holding your sobbing, shaking form instead. Tim continued to reassure you and comfort you quietly, his hand rubbing up and down your back while Kojo rested his head on your leg, whining softly in his own way to comfort you. Tim then began to coach you through slowing your breathing, using techniques you had used when he suffered with nightmares and when you began to calm down, he began to wipe your tears away.

“I thought I was really back in that cabin.” You admit with a sniffle, making Tim hold you closer, taking your hand in his and placing it above his heart.

“You feel that? I’m here and so are you. I’m not going to let anything happen to you again.” Tim promises quietly as you focus on the steady thumping of his heartbeat while your other hand reached down to pet Kojo softly.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.” You apologise, pulling away with your eyes still shining with tears as Tim shakes his head.

“Don’t apologise. I’m going to be here for you when you need me to. I’m your husband and after what you went through I’d be a shit excuse of a husband if I did anything but look after you when you needed me. Don’t ever apologise for having a nightmare. I love you and I’m going to help you through this.” Tim says, pulling you back into his arms and feeling you settle your head perfectly above his heart so you could focus on his heartbeat once again.

“I love you too.” You mumble, soothed by Tim’s repeated action of running his hand up and down your back as well as his melodic heartbeat and soon your eyes slipped closed again. In the arms of the love of your life and feeling safe for the first time in years.

Tim watched you sleep peacefully for a few minutes, just to make sure no nightmares tried to attack you again as you slept but after not as much as a twitch, Tim switched his lamp off and cuddled you closer as he let himself drift off to sleep. You were finally back where you belonged. And Tim wasn’t going to let anyone hurt you again.

[gay-dorito-dust]

okay so y/n is secretly a god of keeping an eye on this gravity falls universe and is trying to protect the kids because she's seen how they died so many times and full on just breaks down in front of Stan and ford telling them

Ngl this was kinda shit

You don’t know how much more you could take of having beer witnessed to so many timelines where the twins died far too young.

You didn’t know how much more of their suffering you were forced to watch on the sidelines while being reminded by beings of a power far greater than yours that there was to be no divine intervention. None whatsoever as it was a taboo amongst gods and was punishable by having the elder gods remove your immortality and take away any and all divine powers from you.

You didn’t care about the consequences of your own actions when you fled from your home in hopes of helping Dipper and Mabel survive one timeline, to grow older and live long happy lives unlike their alternate selves that you couldn’t save. You were sick and tired of seeing the same end result for the Pine twins timeline after timeline after timeline. This time it was going to be different, and you were going to make sure of it as you watched through the bark of trees as they ventured off on their next monster of the week, always coming back to the shack unscathed.

‘Hey great aunt/ grunkle y/n!’ They’d both greet you with wide smiles despite their messy appearances.

‘You two looked like you had some fun today. Find anything investing to share?’ You’d ask them but you already knew the answer. You had used your power to ward off the sneaky pack of Direwolves from mauling the kids and grant them a quick escape, a victory unfortunately not shared by their alternate selves, who never came back from the encounter. You still remembered the pained screams as they were deeply etched into your subconscious, keeping you awake at night.

The twins shared a look as thought debating whether or not to tell you, only to mentally agree on the later as they both looked back at you and said in unison; ‘nope! Just some scrapes and cuts, nothing interesting at all!’ Before they left to go to their room. As soon as they left the smile of your face faltered as you let out an uneven sigh, your hands covering your eyes as you softly wept into them, not understanding how cruel life must be to condemn the sweetest and bravest children you knew to countless deaths with each one being worse then the last.

You didn’t care that you’d be punished for your actions, you didn’t care that you’d be ridiculed and berated by the elder gods for being too human for a god, but you would much rather risk it all if it meant that all your effort and energy would bring forth a timeline where the twins emerged victorious; They deserved as much.

‘I can’t let it happen again.’ You whispered to yourself.

You must’ve been too occupied by the turmoil inside your own head that you didn’t hear the sound of footsteps came towards you, nor noticed that whoever was walking towards you had now sat themselves on either side of you until a hand was placed on your shoulder were you finally drawn back to reality.

‘Are you okay? Dipper and Mabel said they could hear you sobbing.’ Ford said and you saw that both he and Stan had come to check on you.

‘I can’t.’ You muttered.

‘Can’t what?’ Stan asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

‘I can’t watch them die again, not this time.’ You said as you wiped your eyes clean of tears. ‘I’ve watched enough of the same story come to violent and unfair endings and got told that’s just how the way things are.’

Ford and Stan shared a look, not knowing the best course of action to take in order to comfort you when you were talking in vague and ominous riddles. So Ford gently moved you so that you were looking at him directly, ‘what do you mean by that? Who’s them?’ You breathed in deeply as you mustered up the strength to tell Ford and Stan a truth you’ve been keeping to yourself in order to keep them all safe, but the Pines Family were a curious bunch and couldn’t help but be drawn to things they shouldn’t, while also having strange things be drawn to them in vice versa.

‘I haven’t been all that truthful about who I am and I only did so for a good reason, to keep you all safe.’ You said as you held onto Ford’s arms while looking between him and Stan, ‘I’m a deity who came here to Gravity Falls after bearing witness to multiple timelines where Dipper and Mabel don’t make it out alive from their encounters with the anomalies of this very town. I’ve risked everything to be here, even my own powers and immortality to keeping these kids safe in hopes of seeing the fruits of my labour be proven fruitful.’ You continued your admittance as you saw the conflicting emotions cut across their faces the more you spoke of your true origin.

‘What do you mean that dipper and Mabel die in each timeline you’ve seen?’ Stan then asked, his face set in agitation, ‘you’re a god aren’t you? Couldn’t you just have intervened and save them regardless? I thought you gods were meant to be omnipotent or whatever?’

‘That’s not how it works, is it.’ Ford said as he was slowly putting the pieces together while his thumbs caressed your shoulders reassuringly.

‘No.’ You said softly as a new wave of tears started to cascade down your cheeks. ‘The elder gods decreed long ago to forbid divine intervention of all kinds. They claim that there was nothing that can be done to change what has already been foreseen, but I couldn’t do it.’ You whimpered as you looked at Stan. ‘I just couldn’t when I knew that I could at least change one timeline, just one. Im sorry.’ You finished as Stan and Ford felt their hearts hurt for you, a god who was going against their entire way of life to keeping their grand niece and nephew safe, all the while feeling immense guilt consumed you from the inside out over the other realities.

Stan then moved so that he was just as in your line of sight as Ford was and began to wipe away some of your tears with his thumb. ‘I guess that explains all those times I’ve seen you silently stare out into the woods.’ He began jokingly as everything leading up to now started to make sense, how you’d always put yourself between the children and any potential danger or how you’d watch over them like a hawk and making sure they were in your line of sight no matter what as though afraid that something terrible would happen if they weren’t. ‘Thank you for everything you’ve done for them sweetheart, but it’s time you took care of yourself just as well.’ Stan then adds as he and Ford escorted you back into the shack, much to your confusion as you looked between them.

‘I cant! I have to make sure-‘

‘The twins are fast asleep in their beds y/n. They’re safe, you have done enough for today. Now if it time for you to rest.’ Ford gently reprimanded you as you suddenly began to feel the weight of fatigue that you had been putting off for several days now.

‘Yeah don’t go worrying yourself so much, or else you’ll get grey hairs like me and point Dexter over here. Let us take over once in a while okay honey?’ Stan says as he and Ford tried to get your mind off of your mission when they both saw just how much you’ve run yourself into the ground, how reluctant you were to relinquishing control and allowing yourself to rest up from the countless days of no sleep nor sustenance. They were pretty sure you hadn’t looked at yourself in a mirror to know just how badly you looked, nor the haunted you seem to get in your eyes now and then as though you were recalling traumatic events.

‘But-‘

‘Nope.’ Stan interrupted.

‘Can’t I just-‘

‘I’m afraid we can’t let you do that. God or not, you need rest. We’ll keep the kids safe in your stead.’ Ford cuts you off this time as he and Stan managed to wrangle you into bed after a brief struggle where you realised just how badly your limbs ached snd screamed with a desire to rest or how your eyelids felt heavier then lead.

‘Promise?’ You asked them sleepily.

Stan pressed a soft kiss to your forehead while Ford squeezed your hand reassuringly. ‘We promise, you’ve done your part so please, let us do ours.’

[larcenywrites]

any headcanons about what dating logan/wolverine might be like? 👀

I can try 😮‍💨 just like with sabretooth, I worry I can’t properly capture him… but we can always dabble around with ideas!

Wolverine x Reader

Warnings: definitely has nsfw | one line does refer to reader being AFAB |

🍺 Sigh… the real question is, how are you going to get in a relationship with this man 😒

🍺 Never mind whether he’s still pining after Jean or not, the guy just refuses to commit 🙄 doesn’t matter if you’ve fucked or not.

🍺 But let’s skip that whole dramatic montage and say you did manage to finally tie him down just a little 🤏

🍺 It’s not like Logan doesn’t have fun or smile or know how to love! But when it comes to an actual bona fide relationship… it’s just harder to comfortably do those things. He’s lived a long time, been through nearly every type of trauma, hates himself for what he is half the time, and, while it hides well behind all that attitude, he’s afraid of a lot of things— from himself to the world.

🍺 So it makes it hard for him to love like that. Feelings are kinda hard for him to talk about 😔 at least, at first. Later on it gets easier, and while his tone may still be soft and gruff and he might sound reserved, but he won’t shy away from any sweet pillow talk anymore 🥺 though… any specific topics pertaining to a future… he’s probably a little more eager to switch to something else 😣

🍺 He’ll definitely be all growly if you start playing with his hair 😤 believe it or not, he’s a little particular about his grooming, and still a little funny about being unexpectedly touched at times— even by his partner.

🍺 But perhaps the real show of love here is the fact that he still won’t stop you 🥲

🍺 Usually the free time he has is spent fucking shit up in the danger room or drinking at his favorite spot, but he will actually take you on dates that don’t involve either! (But let’s be honest, it’s kinda hot to watch him tear shit up sometimes 😏)

🍺 It’s canon that Logan enjoys some broadway musicals! And while it’s not its favorite thing to have to do, he can dress up quite nice 😘

🍺 Actually a horndog 😮‍💨 For a guy that’s always going on about controlling his raging animal or whatever, he sure doesn’t have much control when his sexual partner even looks at him the wrong way 🙄 Maybe it’s all the energy he can never quite get out, or maybe it’s because he goes without for a while at a time, but definitely don’t be surprised when, upon finally getting to share his bed, you don’t get very much sleep 😘

🍺 Unfortunately(?) the dude can smell horniness, which will get him going no matter what his current situation is 🤭

🍺 I know this man eats pussy like nobody’s business 🥴 literally pouncing on you 🥴 maybe a rather hard bite to your thigh before just literally diving in, but otherwise probably won’t do much foreplay, especially nothing all loving and sweet.

🍺 Surprisingly a cuddler? But not, like, when you do it :/ a selective cuddler, we’ll call him. He’ll roll over and trap you in a bear hug 🥰 but no matter if you are taller or shorter than him, he’s gonna be face planted in your shoulder blades

🍺 one of those people that will not be little spoon 😒😒😒😒😒 you might get away with it if you catch him already in bed and you just crawl on top of him and wrap around him 🤭

🍺 but he’s definitely a sucker for having you lie on his chest 🥺🥺🥺🥺 he’ll probably sigh as if you’re bothering him, but it’s kinda like that thing dogs do when they get comfy and sigh loudly 🥰

🍺 it’s counterintuitive, but tbh the more you shower him with love the more he low key hates himself… but he still definitely enjoys it! He actually does love to be loved! A little shy about it, though.

🍺 don’t be afraid to kiss his hand right where his claws come out 😘

🍺 not necessarily jealous as much as he is protective…

🍺 well, he does get a little possessive…

🍺 sometimes might be petty af if you try to come into bed smelling like someone who’s pissed him off that day (many people piss him off every day)

🍺 like it’s not your fault you were in the same general area as Cyclops for longer than ten minutes and Wolfie over here can smell that 😒

🍺 When he’s done throwing his pity party, though, you get way-too-tight cuddles though so it’s a win? How else are you supposed to smell like him again?