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bunbun007 · 3 days ago
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One Hell Of a Trip - Saja Boys x Reader
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Wanings: Demon pacts I suppose? Not explicitly explained. Word Count: 1.3k Pairings: Saga Boys x Reader
Next ->
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˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
You should’ve never made a pact with a demon. Multiple demons, apparently.
Regardless of your religious beliefs, you knew that personally contacting the reins of Hell was a stupid, crazy idea. But then again, you were only human.
And humans needed to eat.
Didn’t they?
“I'll die if I don't do this,” you murmured, voice ever so soft, echoing in the dimly lit room. “Or maybe I will if I do. Heavens, this is so stupid… Lady, are you sure this will work?”
It had all started on a quiet street. You’d been walking with no real purpose, when you encountered an old lady — a beggar, by the looks of it.
You’d offered her kindness.
It was the only thing you could offer, realistically. You had nothing on you. Nothing at home, either. In fact, in a few days, you might not even have a home.
The lady seemed enamored by your sweetness and handed you a little flyer.
“The man who gave me this was very sure of its usefulness,” she said. “Maybe it'll help you. You seem like you need it.”
Ouch.
Even if she meant well. Ouch.
Still, desperate, you unfolded the flyer and read it. It was a crumpled old piece of paper — photoshopped and funny-looking, like it was made by middle schoolers promoting their DnD club.
Not judging, tho.
You held it in your hand and almost laughed at the absurdity. What if?
Realistically, what could go wrong?
It’s not like demons actually existed.
And if they did… maybe they’d pity you. In your sleepless, starved state, this seemed like a genuinely great idea.
Which is what brought you to this very moment —Sitting on the floor of your tiny apartment, placing candles in a circle like some cursed Pinterest board. “First time summoning a demon… hope you don’t mind the mess, Hell Lord,” you giggled to yourself at the pitiful joke and sat in the middle of the room.
What should you even say?
“Oh… hear ye, hear ye, demons,” you tried awkwardly. “Help me progress in my job… um, I really need it to live. I’ll return the favor if you let me live a decent life. "You looked around. “I’ll be bound to you…?”
.
.
.
Right.
What were you even expecting?
Candles bursting into flames?
A thunderclap?
The Hell Lord himself popping in through the wall?
“Well, would you look at that.”
A voice. Low and raspy, but with a slight youthful ring to it.
“Our plan keeps getting easier, doesn’t it, boys?” A series of soft laughs filled the room.
Your entire body tensed — and froze.
“Now, little one. We appreciate your help. We’ll gladly take you as ours.”Your neck almost snapped from how fast you turned toward the voice. You saw a tall figure — and before you could think, you grabbed the closest candle and threw it at them.
“THE HELL?!”
You kept throwing the lit candles like your life depended on it. And well… it kind of did. The entrance was blocked by figures.
Shadowed, unmoving.
“Who are you?! All of you?! I swear, I’ll break your necks if you come any closer!” You grabbed a nearby pillow and held it up with both arms.Your gaze flicked from figure to figure. They were tilting their heads forward… until they all slowly raised their chins.
They were men.
Attractive. Scary-looking. Men.
Still men, tho.
“Who are you?! How did you break in?!”
The man in the center took a step forward, flashing a smirk in your direction. His skin shimmered in a purple hue, tattoos spiraling across his collarbones. “Hello, human. We are your saviors—”
He flinched. “HEY! Did you just smack me with a pillow?!”
“Stay away!”
“Stop, human. I’m warning you. Quiet.”
Suddenly, your voice was gone. You tried to speak — to scream — to whisper, even. But nothing came out. It was as if your own body betrayed you, forced to obey this man’s words. And the men began to walk forward.
Each one was different in height and build — but all of them shared that same violet skin.
“We are the demons you contacted. Your saviors. Your new responsibility.”
The shortest of them — one with blue hair and an irritatingly smug face — held the crumpled flyer right up to your nose. “The owners of your soul…” They stood in front of you, forming a perfect line. And all you could do was stare.
“We are the Saja Boys."
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
Of course. Demons apparently existed. And you were now bound to five of them. They had you at their mercy. ‘What do you want from me?’ ‘You work as a manager, don’t you?’ 'Yes…’ ‘Then make us famous.’ ‘Unforgettable.’ ‘Desired.’ ‘Envied.’ The man in the center smirked. “Make us be loved by everyone."
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Did I stay until 12 am stressing over the format and this little fix? Yes, yes I did. I've never posted but seeing how this movie has gained popularity and how loved the boys are, I wanted to write for them.
We barely see anything from them in the movie, so I'll probably take creative liberty to write their personalities. This might work as the starter for individual series (for each member) but it all depends if you guys actually like the idea or not Jajaja.
Which reminds me!
The original prompt belong to @soldmygenderforglitter and I took some liberty to develop it! I hope you like it!!
Ppl who also liked the idea: @arieslucy @lylian333 @silverklaus
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kuidore · 3 days ago
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More random ZoeYstery HCs ✧ KPOP demon hunters ✧ Zoey x Mystery
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✧ They’re a little codependent but the sprinkles of toxicity are mutual so it cancels out
✧ Mystery never wants to go anywhere if Zoe isn’t going. He goes to social stuff because she goes and he wants to spend time with her.
✧ Zoey will still go to things on her own sometimes, leaving Mystery to hangout at home, but she spends a lot of time on her phone texting him and always leaves earlier than she would have if Mystery was with her
✧ This is entirely her choice, not once has he ever asked her to come home or complained about her going out. She just misses him extra hard sometimes and finds herself getting bored way faster when he isn’t around
✧ If it was up to either of them, they’d be together literally all of the time.
✧ They can’t actually do that, so he just follows her everywhere like a puppy on an invisible leash as much as he can
✧ He can see perfectly fine through his bangs (demon logic) but he still has a habit of running into things as if he couldn’t. Poles, signs, corners, fire hydrants. He’s surprisingly clumsy
✧ that’s because he doesn’t look where he’s going. he stares at Zoey instead
✧ totally worth it to him, especially the times when Zoey would start fawning over the possibility of him being hurt
✧ ‘a girlfriend wants a boyfriend who she can turn her brain off around’ except Mystery is the girlfriend
✧ He’s sorta an airhead, he’s ignorant to a lot of things that humans would think of as common knowledge
✧ Mystery thinks Zoey is the smartest person in the entire world and he says it a lot
✧ he eventually gets comfortable enough to ask her questions not just about herself, and she answers him with lots of details and excited hand gestures
✧ She’s happy he’s curious about humans in general and happier that he was asking her.
✧ In reality he’s still just curious about her and not all humans. No other ones, really. Maybe the rest of Huntrix, barely. he could handle her friends because they were extensions of Zoey.
✧ he was asking about topics he remembered her mention before in conversation.
✧ Zoey forgets what stories she’s told and what conversations she’s had with what people, so it doesn’t really click together that she just happens to know at least a little bit about pretty much about everything he asks
✧ he’s not doing it with manipulative intentions. Dude just genuinely could not care less about anything if he can’t play ‘seven degrees of Zoey Huntrix’ with it
✧ He compliments her multiple times a day, usually just blurting out something he was thinking as opposed to any sort of setup or cute delivery. In his eyes he’s just saying things that are true, but Zoey always giggles and thanks him anyways
✧ His deadpan tone and complete lack of awareness, in Zoey’s eyes, is a cute delivery
✧ Zoey is a crazy good baker. Mystery will hangout in the kitchen with her, sitting down and staying the hell out of her way as she zooms between cupboards
✧ Every so often she stops in front of him, a piece of chocolate or pastry or whatever else she was messing around with pinched between her fingers, and pops it in his mouth for a taste test
✧ He’s never any help when she’s trying to figure something out, but Zoey already knows that. She’s not expecting critique, she just gets all giddy seeing him smile and say it’s yummy when he tastes it
✧ where Jinu never lets Rumi see his demonic eyes, Mystery is exactly the opposite with Zoey
✧ When they’re at home, even after he’s started pinning up his bangs, he only ever has bright amber eyes with cat-like pupils
✧ Mystery has nothing but his demon form in his past, and as much as he didn’t care, sometimes he wondered what Zoey thought. If she ever remembered he was a demon when she was alone and recoiled at the thought of his ‘real’ form
✧ it’s the first question he’s afraid to ask her, so he doesn’t
✧ One day when she’s laying on top of him on their couch and his eyes are closed, she presses her lips to his eyelid, telling him not to open them as she did the same on the other side
✧ He opened them back up and just raises an eyebrow, and she shrugs back at him and tells him he has pretty eyes
✧ she gets a new thing for her ‘what makes Mystery blush?’ list
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bunnis-monsters · 2 days ago
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Cafes and knots
Werewolf x Vampire!Reader
WC: 2k+
warning: breeding, knotting, blood drinking, grinding, pining
A/N: Use code: birthday to get 25% off your first month of my Patreon ^^ this was a Patreon/kofi reward, and everyone on Patreon and kofi got to see this first!
It was one of those nights, the type where you spent every moment of your eternal life on your feet, jogging back and forth between customers.
Working at a cafe for monsters wasn’t terrible. If anyone asked, you would say it was a fun job with great perks.
The only problem you had was the pushy, rude customers that either wanted the manager or something inappropriate from you.
Thankfully, some of your regulars always stuck up for you when a situation got out of hand.
Especially him.
Standing at a little over 6 foot and with a muscular frame, his eyes always followed the sultry sway of your hips as you moved around the cafe.
Usually, he came in twice a day. Once in the morning for a black coffee and donut before work, and once at night for a protein shake and any pastries you had left to fuel up for the gym.
So when someone got rowdy, he was quick to run over and get up in their face. Tobias was that kind of guy, always ready to help.
You had no idea that he had a thing for you, and that’s why he was so defensive over his cute vampire barista.
To most it was obvious you were crushing on him like crazy too, but neither of you were aware of your shared love.
Most of the time you spent the day sighing wistfully, watching him from the register as he chowed down on your freshly baked pastries. He had a huge appetite after his workouts, so you decided to treat him.
Although today was relatively peaceful, the werewolf was still on edge, as if he could sense something was about to happen.
“Toby, something up?”
You walked over, placing a pastry in front of him. “Here, it’s on the house.”
Tobias looked up at you as if you offered him the world, taking the pastry into his hands carefully. The man loved his baked goods, and giving him something like this for free meant a lot more to him than you knew.
“Thank you… and it’s nothing, I just…”
His wolf ears perked up when the bell chimed, signaling someone had just walked in. A nasty looking monster walked in, his horrible body odor spreading through the cafe like a thick miasma.
None of that mattered to you, though. You politely greeted him, smiling as you gestures towards your menu. “Welcome, what would you like, sir?”
“Hey, toots. Black coffee and some of those bagels, stat.”
You blinked in surprise, about to say something before Tobias spoke up. “Don’t talk to her like that, she’s a lady.”
The werewolf was barely holding himself back from jumping up and beating the guy, he just wanted to keep the peace and make sure you weren’t mistreated.
“I wasn’t talking to you, was I, mutt? Now get ya ass back there and make me a damn coffee!”
He raised his hand, about to slap your ass before Tobias caught it mid swing. The sound of bones snapping filled the air, and Tobias began to shift right in front of you.
“I’m not mutt, and you should never even try to lay a hand on her, you hear me?”
The monster screamed, pulling back his scaley wrist in agony before running out the door, cursing the entire time.
“Wow… Toby, you saved me.”
Your cheeks heated up, and you smiled fondly at the man as his fur settled down. Slowly, his body shrank and he was back in his usual human form.
“That’s probably what had me on edge earlier, I could smell the bad vibes from a mile away.”
He sipped on his protein shake, his tail wagging while you smiled at him. Did you know how pretty you were, with your plump cheeks and twinkling eyes?
“I really appreciate it… is there anything I can do to repay you?”
His tail thumped against the booth he was seated in, and he swallowed as he looked up at you. “Well… I enjoy your baking… would you mind coming by my place and teaching me a recipe or two?”
It was clear he just wanted to spend time with you, the person he was crushing on, but you didn’t notice. “Oh, sure! I can come over after work.”
“Sure!”
“It’s a date!”
When he walked out, you sank behind the cash register, hands over your warm cheeks as you squealed.
It was kind of like a date, right? In your mind, he just wanted to bake with you, but to you it was a date!
Once you were home, you scoured through your closet, struggling to find something cute to wear that you thought Tobias might like.
After 30 minutes of trying on clothes and tossing them aside, you decided on something simple and comfortable to bake in that would also be appropriate for a possible date.
You stood outside his door, a parasol keeping the fading sunlight off of your skin. After knocking, you heard some rummaging before footsteps approached you.
Tobias answered his front door, wearing only a bag of sweatpants. Sweat dropped down his toned, tan chest and his tail picked up speed when his eyes met yours.
“Hey, sorry I’m still a bit sweaty from my work out. You smell- I mean you look nice.”
You were too busy staring at his glistening pecs to notice his slip of the tongue. “Ahh, thank you…”
He smiled, wiping his brow before stepping aside. “Come on in, I cleaned up the kitchen a minute ago!”
You bit back a laugh, spotting crumpled baking supplies sitting on the counter. Rolling up your sleeves, you got to work whipping up something sweet.
He hovered behind you, watching with great interest as you cracked another egg into the bowl. It was hard to concentrate when you could almost hear his warm blood rushing through his veins, only aggravated by his post workout scent.
You were definitely aroused, but tried to play it off… Tobias, however, knew your scent was off.
You yelped when he suddenly started to sniff at your neck, moving down your back. “T-Toby, what are you-“
He stopped, his cheeks reddening as he stepped back. “Sorry, I forgot that uh… that’s not normal for non-werewolves…”
He looked away shyly, scratching the back of his head. “You just… smell different.”
His tail wagged, and he tried his best to hide his boner as you continued. Tobias was truly a sweet guy with good intention, he was just a bit of a himbo.
The werewolf followed you around like an oversized puppy, his tail knocking over random objects in the kitchen. Although he was making a mess, you couldn’t help but find him cute. Getting to see him at home where he was comfortable felt like a treat to you!
The sexual tension was rising by the second, and you both felt your arousal growing. Tobias still hadn’t put on a shirt, but he was a little ditsy so you couldn’t blame him for forgetting.
“Hey…” Tobias called out as you put the pie in the oven. “Do you… wanna stay for a movie or something?”
Your eyes widened, and you looked over at the blushing werewolf. Although you wanted nothing more than to stay with him a little longer…
“Sorry, I have to feed tonight. If I don’t drink enough blood I get woozy.”
For a moment, Tobias looked disappointed, but suddenly his face lit up. “Just drink from me!”
Your undead heart leapt into your throat as you struggled to comprehend what he just said. There was no way Tobias knew how intimate it was to drink from someone else, you knew that, but it made your plump thighs tremble regardless.
“A-alright… I guess I can do that.”
He sat on the couch, looking up at you with those big blue eyes of his. “Is this an okay position?”
You nodded slowly, climbing into his lap. He blinked, smiling widely as you pushed his dark hair away from his neck. “Y-yeah, it’ll hurt for just a second…”
Your fangs extended, glinting in the faint light of his living room before you leaned forward to plunge them into his neck.
“F-fuck!”
His large hands gripped your hips tightly, pulling you down onto his lap until you could feel the bulge in his pants.
Tobias let out a growl, your flustered expression unseen by the werewolf as he began to move you against his bulge.
“Sorry… just… got all worked up, you know?”
You continued to drink, and his tail wagged when he noticed you rocking your hips with him. When you were full, you pulled away and panted softly, blood dripping down your chin.
Tobias leaned forward and licked it off, his blue eyes cloudy with lust. “… how about you just stay the night?”
Neither of you were thinking much as you made the way to his bedroom, you were too busy locking lips. His tongue entered your mouth, and he pinned you against the wall.
“God, I’ve wanted this for a long time…” he said, staring down at you like a lovesick puppy. “You’re just perfect…”
“You… wanted me?”
All those days spent pining after him, wanting nothing more than to feel his muscular frame against your soft one… you could have had him all along!?
“Let’s not waste any time then!”
You surprised Tobias with your strength when you pulled him along to the bedroom, his ears flicking and tail wagging enthusiastically. He was just a needy puppy that was excited to have you all to himself!
Within seconds you were in nothing but the lingerie you picked out to wear underneath your clothes. Tobias’s cock strained against his sweatpants as he drooled.
“You look amazing… want…”
He sat at the edge of the bed, laying on his belly as he positioned his head between your legs. “Need…”
Tobias pulled the lacy fabric to the side, humping the bed like a desperate dog as he took in your pussy’s scent for the first time.
He lapped at one of your puffy lips, his pupils displaying before he buried his face between your thighs and began eating you out.
You bucked your hips tugging on his hair and moaning while he looked up at you with pussy drunk eyes. Tobias found the way you whimpered and tried to cover your face as he devoured your chubby pussy absolutely adorable.
His tongue moved over your swollen clit, stimulating it as his fingers pumped in and out of you. You could already see a wet spot forming on his sweatpants, knowing werewolves came a lot.
“Wanna… wanna mate…”
Tobias climbed up, panting as he pulled the waistband down and let his cock spring free. It was huge, pulsing, and twitching.
“T-Toby… I wanna mate with you too…”
You whimpered, feeling him press against you. The tip of his cock was already pressing into your cunt, and the stretch was… pleasant.
Your nails dug into his back, leaving long scratches in his thick skin. Tobias was stretching you out nice and slow, keeping one of his fingers on your clit.
“That’s it, that’s my little mate…”
He moved his hips at a moderate place, playing with your nipples and clit to stimulate you. You had the urge to feed, to bite down on him, and when Tobias noticed he leaned forward so you could sink your teeth into his shoulder.
The man was a werewolf, he could take some blood loss, and the idea of you biting and marking his body ruled him up.
“That’s it, mark me up… f-fuck, gonna stuff you full alright?”
Another growl rumbled in his chest and he lifted your hips so he could fuck deeper into you. “G-gonna breed you, okay? Gotta have my pups, you’ll give me a litter won’t you?”
Watching your pussy stretch around his cock, squeezing it when you came was enough to have the man groaning with pleasure. You pulled back from his neck to kiss him, letting your tongue twirl around one another before he turned you so you could lie on your soft belly.
Your face squished against the pillow, and now Tobias could properly mount his mate. His cock twitched inside you as your plump ass rippled with each thrust.
“Gonna cum!”
Tobias groaned out, completely lost in the feeling of your pussy. His seed spilled into your belly, filling you up completely.
He slumped over you, a low purring emanating from his body. When you started to move, he used his weight to keep you still.
“Don’t move… gonna knot you…”
Before you could ask, you yelped at the feeling of his cock swelling up inside of you. You could barely take it, panting softly as a bulge formed in your belly.
He cooed, rubbing the bulge before moving the toe of you into a better position. Tobias cuddled you from behind, leaving bites and kisses on your neck.
“Knotting… I forgot about that part,” you murmured. Do to having a crush on Tobias, you had done some naughty research into werewolf sex that involved a lot of porn and masturbation.
“Mmph, that's the best part… now we’re locked up for the next hour.”
The two of you ended falling asleep long before the swelling went down, and from then on you had yourself a boyfriend.
Work became even more fun… especially when no one was in the cafe.
“B-but what if someone hears us?”
“We’ll be quiet, it’ll be okay.”
You pouted, unable to deny your cute boyfriend when his tail was wagging and his cock was pressed against your dripping pussy. Sure, the cafe was empty, but what if someone walked in?
He fucked into you carefully, sighing as you tried your best to keep your eye on the door while peeking out of the bathroom. Tobias covered your mouth to muffle your moans, leaning down to nip at your neck and lick the marks he left.
“My good little mate, taking me so well… you’re all wet, getting excited at the thought of getting caught, huh?”
You bit your lip, letting out a needy whine as he groped your tits. “You’re insatiable, this is the third time this week…”
“Hey, I can’t help that I’m in rut, and when I smell you getting all aroused when I visit it gets me going!”
Tobias came inside of you, nearly making the two of you top over as he relaxed and rested his weight on you.
Now, you were stuck taking orders from customers who could smell the werewolf’s musky cum on you. It was embarrassing, and they wouldn’t look you in the eye.
“That was on purpose, wasn’t it?”
Tobias grinned as he drove you home after work, and it was hard to stay mad at your sweet himbo. “Can’t have any getting the wrong idea and trying to court my little vampire mate.”
You huffed, then laughed a bit when he gave you puppy dog eyes. “Yeah, I guess not.”
You never thought your crush would like you back, but now you had a great boyfriend and you couldn’t ask for anything better.
————————
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4linos · 3 days ago
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fragile future.
hwang hyunjin x f!reader
synopsis/request: a simple plastic stick sits before you, holding more meaning than you expected. as you wait, scared but hopeful, you learn that the most important thing isn’t what the result says, it’s who’s there to hold your hand through it.
warnings: fluff, anxiety and emotional vulnerability, pregnancy-related themes.
wc: 4920
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The quiet scratch of charcoal against canvas filled the air, the rhythm steady, meditative. Hyunjin sat perched on his stool in his personal art studio, surrounded by scattered sheets of sketch paper and tubes of oil paint that were either neatly arranged or left half-open in a glorious mess only he could navigate. Golden afternoon light spilled lazily through the tall window, casting a halo on his long lashes and turning his hair into threads of honey.
He was lost in the quiet pulse of creativity, brush gliding over texture like music in motion. A sketch of a woman’s hand, delicate and ethereal, slowly came to life under his fingertips. He didn't need to look at a reference; her image was already burned into his mind like a dream he visited often. It was always her. You.
The door creaked gently behind him, soft as a whisper. He didn’t look up. His focus was absolute, his heart rhythm syncing with every stroke. His voice, however, was automatic and warm as he greeted you.
“You ready to go get lunch, angel?” he asked casually, affection woven effortlessly through his tone.
You smiled at his distracted sweetness, but before you could answer, the tiny human in your arms let out a giggle soft, bubbly, innocent.
Hyunjin froze.
His hand stopped mid-air, charcoal smudging an unintended line across the paper. He blinked slowly and turned toward the sound with a furrowed brow, as though trying to make sense of the noise.
And then he saw her. And you.
A baby. A tiny, giggling baby cradled in your arms. She had plump cheeks, hair tied into the tiniest ponytail, and eyes bright with mischief. Her legs kicked excitedly as she babbled, absolutely delighted to be wherever she was.
Hyunjin’s eyes widened in surprise. “Wait,” he said, putting his tools down slowly, like he was afraid any sudden movement might shatter the strange, adorable illusion. “Where did you steal a baby from?”
You snorted. “I didn’t steal her. Yeri asked me to watch Eunji while she and her husband finally went out for their anniversary. You remember, right? She’s been talking about that date night for weeks.”
“Oh.” Hyunjin blinked, finally piecing together the memory. “Right, right. Anniversary dinner. I forgot that was today.”
“She dropped her off just after breakfast,” you explained, adjusting Eunji in your arms. “She’s been an angel so far. Slept on my chest for an hour. My heart might never recover.”
“Mine either,” he muttered, completely mesmerized.
Eunji, upon locking eyes with Hyunjin, let out another squeal and extended her tiny hands toward him, her whole body wiggling with interest. Without hesitation, he stepped forward and scooped her up with ease, holding her under her arms like he’d done it a thousand times before.
“Hi there,” he said with a grin, bouncing her softly. “You remember me? I'm the really tall guy who makes a mess with paint.”
Eunji responded by smacking his cheeks with her drool-covered hands, giggling loudly as he feigned exaggerated surprise.
“Hyun, don’t let her slap you around,” you joked as you settled into the couch in the corner of the room, watching them with warm eyes.
“She can slap me all she wants,” he replied, not even remotely pretending to mind. “She’s adorable. Look at that face.”
Eunji babbled nonsense in reply, clearly engaged in an intense conversation only babies could understand. Hyunjin responded with equal nonsense, matching her pitch and making silly faces until she erupted into more giggles.
He held her securely, the kind of hold that spoke volumes, not just of comfort, but of how naturally the role came to him. It wasn’t awkward. It wasn’t forced. It was instinct.
“She’s probably hungry,” you said, checking the time. “Her last meal was a couple hours ago.”
Still smiling, Hyunjin nodded. “You want me to feed her?”
“You sure?” you asked, already standing. “I’ve got her food prepped.”
He hesitated, not because he didn’t want to, he very much did, but he couldn’t stop watching you. You walked past him, brushing Eunji’s arm gently with your fingers and whispering, “Time to eat, little love.”
Hyunjin handed her back reluctantly, lingering in the way your hands curled around her small body, the way your voice dipped naturally into that soft, motherly cadence. She fit against you like puzzle pieces designed to belong. He trailed after you silently, suddenly aware of the shift in his chest like something was trying to settle there. Something unfamiliar yet deeply right.
-
In the kitchen, you moved like it was second nature.
The bib was already laid out. A small bowl of mashed sweet potatoes sat cooling on the counter, alongside a baby spoon and a cloth for cleanup. Eunji was placed in a baby chair, legs kicking excitedly. You tied the bib gently around her neck, brushing her hair back with a soft hum.
Hyunjin watched from the doorway, arms crossed, leaning against the frame like he had stumbled into someone else’s dream. His dream.
There was no performance in the way you spoke to her. No effort to impress. You didn’t need to. It was simple, effortless tenderness.
“Open up for me, pretty girl,” you said, scooping a spoonful and holding it near her lips. Eunji, with a gummy grin, accepted the food like it was the greatest thing she’d ever tasted. “Good job!”
You clapped gently, and she giggled, smearing a bit across her cheek in the process. You wiped it away with ease, still smiling, unfazed.
Hyunjin’s heart clenched.
He'd always thought about having kids. Occasionally, fleetingly. It wasn’t an obsession, just something he assumed would happen in the distant future. Someday. Eventually.
But this wasn’t just a daydream anymore. It was real. You, standing barefoot in the kitchen, feeding a baby with soft eyes and gentle laughter, completely unaware of the way you were shifting something inside him.
He walked up behind you quietly, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder.
“You’re really good at this,” he murmured into your neck.
You smiled, not turning around. “She makes it easy.”
“No,” he said softly. “You make it easy.”
You finally turned to glance at him, eyes full of curiosity.
Hyunjin didn’t say anything more right away. He watched Eunji take another bite, babbling happily as you praised her. His arms stayed around you, firm but gentle, like he didn’t want the moment to slip away.
“I think seeing you like this just unlocked something,” he said quietly, almost to himself.
You looked up at him, the question clear in your expression.
“Like what?”
He met your eyes. “I want this. Someday. With you.”
There was no hesitation in his voice. No nerves. Just certainty, wrapped in warmth.
Your breath caught. A part of you had always wondered what that would look like children, a home, something bigger than just love. But hearing it from him, seeing it in his eyes as he looked between you and the baby now contentedly chewing on her fist… it felt like a glimpse into the future.
“You’d be such a good dad,” you whispered, voice barely audible.
His hold tightened, not possessively, but with the quiet desperation of someone afraid to wake up from a beautiful moment.
“You think so?”
“I know so.”
He pressed a kiss to your temple, lingering there. “We’d have a baby with your smile,” he mused, “and maybe your stubbornness.”
“She’d be a handful.”
“I’d love every second of it.”
There was a brief pause. Eunji let out a loud babble, smacking her tray for more food. You laughed, spooning another bite while Hyunjin watched you like you’d just given him the blueprint for happiness.
“I imagine it sometimes,” he admitted. “You holding a newborn while our toddler runs around the house with paint on her hands.”
“Oh? Paint?” you teased.
“She’d be an artist like her dad,” he said proudly. “Or maybe she’ll be a singer. Or a dancer. Or all three.”
You leaned back into his chest. “Sounds exhausting.”
He chuckled. “It sounds like a dream.”
For a moment, there was only soft breathing, the background sounds of a baby smacking her tray, and the deep, steady thrum of a shared future.
Not just imagined now, but felt.
-
Later, when Eunji was napping on the couch, tucked under a blanket with her thumb in her mouth, you and Hyunjin sat on the floor nearby, backs against the sofa, fingers laced together.
“You were really good with her,” you told him quietly.
“She made it easy,” he repeated your words from earlier, then turned to face you. “But honestly, I think it’s because she reminded me how much I want that life with you.”
He wasn’t trying to impress you. He wasn’t making promises for the sake of romance. He was simply speaking his truth.
And you believed him.
Because in the way he looked at you, in the way he touched you so reverently
while cradling another woman’s child, in the way he never once made it about anything other than shared love, you knew.
One day, Eunji wouldn’t be just a borrowed joy.
One day, maybe not too far away, you’d be holding your own child in your arms.
And Hyunjin would be right there, paint on his hands, laughter in his eyes, love in every step he took toward you.
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The apartment felt unusually quiet once Eunji left. Too quiet.
It was like someone had turned the volume down on the world. No more soft baby babbles echoing down the hall. No tiny giggles bouncing off the kitchen walls. No more little fists tugging at your shirt or soft, weighty warmth curled against your chest.
Just the sound of the ticking clock in the hallway and the distant hum of city noise beyond the windows.
You stood by the front door for a moment after Yeri and her husband had picked up their daughter, waving goodbye as Eunji blew a sloppy kiss in Hyunjin’s direction from her mother’s arms. The echo of her presence still lingered, as though her laughter had left fingerprints on the walls.
Hyunjin closed the door gently behind them, and for a while, you both just stood there, staring into the quiet.
“She’s so sweet,” you said softly, eyes still on the space where she had just been.
Hyunjin let out a sigh that sounded more like a soft, lovesick exhale. “Too sweet. I miss her already.”
You turned to look at him. His eyes were wistful, his expression glowing with something deeper than simple fondness.
“She’s not even our baby,” you teased lightly.
He looked at you then. “I know. But it kind of felt like she was for a little while, didn’t it?”
And it had.
For those few precious hours, it wasn’t just babysitting. It was domestic. Whole. Like a glimpse into a life you could almost touch.
That night, after a simple dinner and a long shower, you and Hyunjin lay in bed together beneath soft sheets, your limbs tangled like ivy. The bedroom lights were dimmed, casting everything in warm amber shadows. Outside, the city sighed through open windows, the hum of distant traffic acting like a lullaby.
Hyunjin lay on his side facing you, one arm tucked under his pillow, the other resting lightly over your waist. You were both bare-faced and quiet, basking in the stillness that only came from deep comfort and long-term love.
“I can’t stop thinking about her,” he said quietly, breaking the silence.
You turned your head slightly to meet his gaze. “Eunji?”
He nodded. “She was… perfect. I mean, she was messy and loud and drooled everywhere, but—” he chuckled, “—it was perfect.”
You smiled softly, the ghost of your stress momentarily forgotten in his warmth.
“She did look good on you,” you teased. “Little baby attached to your hip, getting paint on her socks.”
He laughed quietly. “I’ve been thinking about that a lot, actually.”
You went still. Not frozen, just still. Like your body was bracing itself for something you weren’t sure you were ready to receive.
“I’m not lying when I say I really want that,” Hyunjin said, voice a little softer now, more fragile. He traced gentle circles on your side through the fabric of your shirt. “Whether it’s a few months from now or a few years—I want to have a family with you.”
You stared at him, heart suddenly too big for your chest. He was speaking so quietly, like it was something sacred. Not a fantasy, not an expectation, but a dream he was tenderly placing in your hands, asking you to hold it with him.
“I mean it,” he added, sensing your silence. “Whenever you’re ready. I don’t want to rush you. I just… I need you to know that it’s real for me. I’ve never been more sure about anything.”
You swallowed thickly, your heart thudding hard. His words were so gentle. So patient. It almost made it harder, not because you didn’t want the same thing, but because you’d been keeping something from him.
Something that had been sitting heavy in your chest for days.
He must’ve noticed the way your breath caught, because he sat up slightly on his elbow, his brows knitting in concern.
“Hey…” he whispered. “Are you okay?”
You opened your mouth, then closed it again, your hands fiddling nervously with the edge of the comforter. The intimacy of the moment, the softness of his voice, the sincerity in his eyes, it was all too much, too perfect. The dam inside you cracked.
“I need to tell you something,” you said, your voice barely audible.
His hand found yours under the covers. “Okay,” he said gently. “Whatever it is, I’m here.”
You took a deep breath. “I’ve been… holding something in. Not because I didn’t want to tell you, but because I didn’t know how. I didn’t want to make it real before I had the words.”
Hyunjin’s expression softened instantly, his thumb brushing yours. He didn’t rush you. He didn’t interrupt. He just waited.
“I’m late,” you whispered.
A pause.
Then another breath.
“I’m… really late.”
His lips parted slightly, eyes scanning your face slowly as if to make sure he heard you right. “You mean…”
“I haven’t taken a test yet,” you admitted. “I was scared. I didn’t want to freak you out. Or get your hopes up. I wasn’t sure how I even felt about it.”
Silence hung between you for a heartbeat and then two.
And then his hand was gently tilting your chin toward him, his voice the softest it had been all night.
“Why would you be scared to tell me?”
Your eyes welled up, though you hadn’t meant for them to. “Because you have so many dreams, Hyun. Your art, your music, your freedom. And I didn’t want to be the person who—”
“Stop,” he said gently, leaning forward to press his forehead to yours. “You could never ruin anything. Not even close.”
Your chest ached at his words.
“I meant what I said,” he whispered. “If you are… if we are having a baby, even possibly. I want it. I want you. All of it. No matter when it happens.”
Tears slid down your cheeks silently. He kissed them away, slow and reverent, his hand resting over your belly, not in dramatic certainty, but in quiet, wondering hope.
“I think I already love them,” he said suddenly, voice cracking slightly.
“Hyunjin…”
“Even if it turns out we’re not pregnant this time,” he continued, “this moment? This truth? It’s already made something clear to me. I’m ready when you are. For anything. For everything.”
You buried your face in his neck, arms wrapping around him tightly as he held you against him. You could feel the way his heart thudded beneath your cheek fast, real, overwhelmed with love.
“I’ll take the test tomorrow,” you whispered.
“I’ll be with you,” he promised. “No matter what.”
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The world was quiet when you woke up still dark out, not even birdsong yet, just the faint glow of the city lights sneaking through the curtains. You stirred slowly under the covers, warm, wrapped in the safety of the bed you shared with Hyunjin.
But when you reached out instinctively, your fingers met only the cool sheet where his body should’ve been.
Your heart jumped for a second not with fear, but the kind of nervousness that comes when something big is waiting.
You sat up, blinking sleep from your eyes.
Then you heard it: the rustle of clothes, the soft click of the bathroom door opening and shutting, and footsteps padding gently across the floor.
Hyunjin reappeared in the doorway, fully dressed in a hoodie and sweatpants, a knit beanie half-on his still-messy hair. He looked cozy, disheveled, but very awake.
“Did I wake you?” he asked quietly, walking over.
You shook your head, voice still heavy with sleep. “Where were you?”
“Just brushing my teeth.” He smiled softly. “Thought we could go get the test first thing. Before we talk ourselves out of it.”
You swallowed. There was no dramatic music, no dramatic shift. Just this quiet nudge toward a door you both had been circling for days.
He crouched down next to your side of the bed, tucking your hair behind your ear.
“I figured it’d be easier to face if we did it together,” he said, like he was offering you the softest piece of himself.
You gave a tiny nod.
You got dressed without speaking much, your body on autopilot, your thoughts spiraling. It was as if your brain had been preparing for this moment all night, winding you up just enough to push you out the door.
The air outside was cold and brisk. You were both quiet on the walk to the corner store. The city was still half-asleep shops unopened, sidewalks empty, a few coffee vendors just beginning to stir.
You felt Hyunjin���s fingers slip between yours as you crossed the street. Warm. Firm. Real.
That alone helped you breathe.
As you turned the corner and the little 24-hour pharmacy came into view, you noticed something, the small curve of a smile tugging at the edge of Hyunjin’s lips.
Soft. Private. Like it had been there the whole time.
You stopped walking for a second and gave him a look.
“Don’t smile like that,” you said, half-teasing, half-serious.
He blinked innocently. “Why not?”
“You’re going to get your hopes up.”
He tilted his head playfully. “Is it a crime for a man to smile in public now?”
You rolled your eyes and playfully smacked his chest. “I mean it. I don’t want you to be disappointed. Just in case.”
The wind curled between you for a beat, a feather-soft silence before he reached up and cupped your cheek in one gloved hand.
“I won’t be,” he said, sincere. “No matter what.”
Something in his tone rooted you in place. You nodded once, slowly, then followed him into the store.
-
The bathroom was quiet, too.
You stood by the sink, the white plastic test unwrapped in your hand. Hyunjin was just outside the door, standing so close you could feel his presence like a warmth pressing through the wall.
“I’ll be right here,” he said softly, voice muffled through the wood. “I won’t go anywhere. Just call if you need me, okay?”
You looked toward the door even though you couldn’t see him, and whispered, “Thank you.”
And then you breathed.
You set the test on the counter and followed the instructions with trembling hands. You barely felt the floor beneath your feet. Every movement was automatic. Like you were walking through fog, your thoughts loud and heavy with what-ifs.
When it was done, you set it down gently, almost reverently, on the counter and pressed the timer on your phone.
Five minutes.
You let out a slow breath and sat on the closed lid of the toilet, pulling your knees to your chest.
The silence inside the room stretched, thick and electric.
Outside, Hyunjin shifted. You could hear the soft creak of his weight leaning against the wall just beside the door. Not pacing. Not fidgeting. Just... waiting. Holding still the way someone does when they know it matters.
The timer on the screen glowed too brightly.
4:47.
Each second ticked by like a drop in an ocean of pressure. You tried not to think. But it was impossible.
Was your heart racing because of fear? Or hope? Were you holding your breath because you didn’t want to ruin the moment or because you were scared that this tiny little object was about to change everything?
You closed your eyes and tried to listen for something else your heartbeat, Hyunjin’s soft breathing outside, the distant hum of the fridge in the kitchen.
But it didn’t help. Every second crawled by like an hour.
3:52.
You pressed your palms to your thighs, grounding yourself.
The plastic test sat on the counter just a foot away. You didn’t dare look.
“Babe?” Hyunjin’s voice came gently through the door. “You alright?”
You nodded before realizing he couldn’t see that.
“Yeah,” you said softly, swallowing hard. “Just… waiting.”
“Okay,” he said, just as quietly. “I’m here.”
Another pause.
Then, “I was thinking…”
You didn’t respond, but he knew you were listening.
“When I was a kid, I always thought becoming a dad would feel like flipping a switch. Like one day, I’d just be ready, instantly.”
You could hear the small smile in his voice now. “But now… it’s not like that. It’s slower. Softer. I’m not waiting for some perfect moment anymore. It’s just… you. I look at you, and I think, Yeah. I could do this. With her. Forever.”
Tears pricked at your eyes. You blinked them away quickly, pressing your face into your hands.
“You’re not alone in there,” he added. “I know it feels that way right now, but… I’m right on the other side of the door. I’m holding this with you, okay?”
You nodded. Then said, “Okay,” your voice barely holding steady.
2:12.
Your stomach twisted. Your knees bounced. Your breath kept catching.
The plastic stick sat there. Still. Silent. Unassuming. Like it didn’t hold the weight of your entire world inside it.
“I’m scared,” you whispered.
A beat.
“Me too,” Hyunjin said.
You let out a shaky laugh. “Really?”
“Yeah. But I’m not scared of the result,” he said. “I’m scared for you. Because I know this means something, no matter what it says. And I want you to know that if you’re afraid, or relieved, or sad, or confused, I’ll be here for all of it. Not just the joy. The mess too.”
A single tear slipped down your cheek, and this time you didn’t brush it away.
1:15.
You could almost feel the exact second Hyunjin slid down the wall and sat on the floor, his back pressed to the other side of the door. You didn’t hear it. You just knew.
Like you always did with him.
“You think the test knows how important this is?” you asked suddenly, voice hoarse.
He chuckled quietly. “I think it’s just a stick, baby.”
You laughed too. It was weak and breathless and tinged with nerves, but it was real.
“Thirty seconds,” you whispered.
He hummed softly. “Alright. We’re almost there.”
Your hands trembled in your lap. You stared at the floor.
The seconds felt like they were slipping through molasses.
You weren’t ready. But you were also tired of not knowing.
And then—
The timer buzzed.
The sound echoed too loud in the small room.
You froze.
Hyunjin was silent on the other side.
You reached out, hand trembling as your fingers brushed the edge of the counter.
Your body was frozen, suspended between what was and what could be.
And still, he didn’t rush you.
Because even now… he was waiting.
With you.
The test sat still on the bathroom counter, exactly where you left it. You hadn’t turned it around.
You hadn’t even moved.
Your hands were curled into loose fists on your lap, knuckles pale, legs pulled up beneath you on the closed toilet lid. You’d never felt this paralyzed before, not from fear of something bad, but from something big. Something life-altering.
The tiny white stick felt like it was glowing in the room, humming with unspoken truth. All it needed was one glance, one flick of the wrist, and the future would begin to shift, one way or another.
But you couldn’t do it.
Not alone.
Your breath caught as you stood up, legs a little unsteady, feet cold against the tile. You didn’t touch the test. You didn’t even look at it.
Instead, you reached for the door.
The handle clicked softly under your hand.
And when it opened, there he was sitting on the floor right outside, just like you knew he would be.
Hyunjin looked up at you immediately, his body unfolding quickly but gently, rising to his feet like he expected to hold you before you fell. His eyes scanned your face hopeful, tender, alert. Expectant.
“Is it…” he began, voice quiet but bright.
You didn’t let him finish.
“I didn’t look,” you whispered.
You saw his smile falter just slightly, but not in disappointment. It was surprise. His brow furrowed, and his lips softened.
“I couldn’t do it alone,” you added quickly, your voice breaking slightly at the end.
There was no judgment in his face. Only that beautiful, unshakable tenderness that he carried so easily with you like love was his first language.
“Okay,” he said simply, nodding once. “Let’s look together.”
He reached out, his hand open between you. You placed yours in it instinctively, and the moment your skin touched his, the tightness in your chest eased, not entirely, but enough to move.
He guided you back into the bathroom with slow, careful steps, like he didn’t want to spook you. Like this moment was something sacred and he was holding it like glass.
You stood beside him in front of the counter, your hand still in his. The test lay there, facedown, quiet. As if it was waiting for you.
He looked at you, asking silently for permission.
“Do you want me to check?” he asked softly.
You nodded, barely. “Please.”
Hyunjin gave your hand a squeeze, then gently let go to reach for the test.
You turned your eyes away, breath caught in your throat.
For a heartbeat, there was nothing but the sound of plastic moving against ceramic. A light click as he flipped the test over.
A pause.
Then..
He laughed.
It was quiet. Disbelieving. Joyful.
And when you turned to look at him, really look, his eyes were already shining.
He looked back at you like he’d just seen something miraculous.
“It’s positive,” he said, voice thick with wonder. “It’s positive.”
Your breath caught. You stared at him.
“What?”
He held the test toward you with gentle hands, almost reverently. His eyes searched yours for any flicker of fear, but all he saw was stunned stillness.
You looked down.
Two lines.
Clear. Strong. Certain.
A sound left you, not quite a sob, not quite a laugh. Just a sound of something inside you cracking wide open.
You looked back at Hyunjin, and his smile broke into something bigger, brighter and completely unfiltered.
“You’re pregnant,” he said again, like he needed to say it twice to make it real. “We’re having a baby.”
You covered your mouth with your hand, eyes wide. “Oh wow.”
He immediately stepped forward, wrapping his arms around you, warm and tight. You melted into him like you’d been holding your body together with thread until now.
And suddenly you were crying not from fear, not from confusion, but from a quiet, powerful release. It wasn’t overwhelming in a bad way. It was vast like your heart had expanded beyond your chest and had no idea how to hold this much joy at once.
Hyunjin rested his forehead against yours. His hands came up to frame your face, his thumbs brushing your cheeks where tears had started to fall.
“Hey,” he whispered with a laugh. “You’re okay.”
“I’m happy,” you said quickly. “I am—I’m just—”
“I know,” he said. “I know, baby. Me too.”
And he kissed you soft, slow, grounding. A kiss that wasn’t about passion, but about presence. A kiss that said we’re here now, in this new, irreversible moment. And it’s okay. It’s real. It’s ours.
When he pulled back, he pressed his hands to your belly without thinking like his body already knew where to go.
His voice dropped to a whisper, so full of love it could barely carry the words: “Hi there.”
You let out a soft, teary laugh. “You’re already talking to them?”
“Of course,” he said. “They need to know their dad’s completely obsessed.”
You laughed again, this time freer, your head dropping against his shoulder.
“We’re going to be okay, right?” you whispered.
He pulled you closer, his voice firm with quiet promise: “We already are.”
And in that moment, surrounded by foggy mirrors, cold tile, and the hum of an ordinary bathroom light, you felt it.
Not just the shift in your future.
But the arrival of something whole.
A new chapter, held tenderly in the hands of a man who had always loved you gently, and now, fiercely would love both of you.
From this breath forward.
//
masterlist.
(a/n: for anon, who has been waiting since last year (i’m so so sorry for being so late.) 😖)
[official taglist: @alisonyus @lenfilms @captainchrisstan @anastasiiiiaaaaa @emilyywhyy @ready2readnwrite @nyxaluna lmk if you’d like to be added/removed 😙 ..]
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batsandbirdbrains · 2 days ago
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Ok Dick biting Hal as a kid has got to be one of my favorite headcanons of all time. Like atp it IS canon to me. But now I’m imagining Dick biting all the members of the JL at least once because they’ve done something that’s either pissed him off, or pissed Bruce off. Hal is obviously bitten first and everyone thinks he’s exaggerating or being a big baby about how much it hurts. Then Clark gets bitten because Bruce got hurt on a JL mission where Clark was supposed to be watching his back. And to be fair, Dick growled at him before he bit, which was far more warning than Hal had received. When Dick sinks his teeth - some of which are still baby teeth - into Clark’s meaty, Kryptonian arm, it shouldn’t hurt. But somehow Clark is tearing up as he lets out a pained howl. It takes both Aquaman and the Flash to remove Dick. Clark doesn’t use that arm for two days, wincing every time he jostles it. How and why Dick bites the others is up for interpretation. Eventually, once all of them have been bitten, they call a meeting about it. Not to get him to stop or anything, just to figure out why it hurts so fucking much. They’re all throwing out various theories when someone says “No seriously, what hell does that kid put into his bites?” when Dick emerges from the shadows and says, deadpan, “Vengeance.” before cackling evilly and disappearing. They all shudder before deciding to never piss him off or talk about his biting ever again.
Also now I’m kind of imagining Dick and Slade fighting for the first time when Dick is just a little gremlin and Slade is like “pffft as if this fourth grader could beat me” only to panic when said fourth grader sinks his teeth into him so hard that he still has the scar years later.
I'm imagining Bruce seeing how Dick's go-to attack is to bite people, and he immediately makes a specialized mouth guard for him. It perfectly molds to his teeth, but it's extra sharp and leaves a different imprint than Dick's actual bite. Mostly so no one can compare dental records or anything to the scars that Dick will no doubt leave on many, many people. It has to be updated regularly when Dick is still young because of him losing his baby teeth.
The first time Dick bites Superman is because he brought Batman back to the Batcave in terrible shape. They'd been on a mission together, it was supposed to be quick, easy, no big deal. And now Dr. Leslie and Alfred are working on him in the Batcave medbay, and Dick just turns to Superman with tears and rage in his eyes. And he launches himself at him and attacks.
Clark yelps as soon as he realizes ouch, he can feel that! What the hell!
"Dick! Dick, let go!"
"You promised you'd bring him back home safe!" Dick cries, but his words are muffled, his teeth still sinking into Clark's arm. "He got hurt!"
"I know, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," Clark says quickly. "But he's going to be fine, Dickie, it's mostly just a broken arm and a concussion!"
Dick is growling and hanging off Clark's arm, until Alfred comes out and announces that Bruce is ready to for visitors. Dick unlatches quickly, then scampers over to Alfred, still sniffling. As soon as he catches sight of Bruce, he starts whining and crying and cuddles next to him on the bed.
Clark never makes fun of Hal for the ankle guards again. Dick really does have crazy sharp teeth. Clark's arm is bruised for days around the puncture marks, and he's left with a scar on his arm in the shape of Dick's mouth.
A few months later, Dick has started hanging out with Garth a lot. They become pals. Very good friends. Best friends, almost.
And Garth hangs out with him one day and looks so glum and down in the dumps and says how Aquaman was mean to him during training, but it's okay, it was Garth's own fault. That doesn't sit well with Dick. No one makes his friends upset and gets away with it.
The next time Dick accompanies Bruce to the Watchtower, Dick locks in on Aquaman and chomps right on his arm. Like eating a fish stick. Aquaman yelps and tries to pry him off, asking him what happened and what's wrong and why the hell is Robin biting him?
"Don't be mean to my friends!" is all Dick says before he stomps off to go back to Batman's side. Before he reaches Batman fully, he turns and locks eyes with Aquaman, making that creepy I've got my eye on you gesture. It sends a shiver down Aquaman's spine.
He bites pretty much every other JL member for various reasons between the ages of 8-11. When they eventually call a meeting for it, Batman just stares at all of them with an unimpressed look.
"Perhaps you should try not upsetting him," Batman tells them, then turns on his heel and leaves. Dick, who'd been hiding under Batman's cape, grins at all of them and sends a taunting little wave before the cape covers him up again.
Dick first encounters Deathstroke at the ripe age of nine. During said encounter, Dick is terrified. Deathstroke is talking about wanting to make Dick his apprentice, how he's going to steal him from right under the Bat's nose, and Dick panics.
And he resorts to biting the exposed skin he sees when Deathstroke tries to nab him by his cape.
He damn near bites Deathstroke's hand clean off at the wrist. It startles Slade so bad that he shouts, throws Dick off to the side, and is distracted just long enough for Dick to run away and get back to the Batmobile.
Dick is panting and a little freaked out as he relays the story to Bruce from the safety of the Batmobile as Bruce drives them home. Bruce reaches over and pats Dick's head, his own heart beating so hard in his chest.
"Good job, chum," Bruce says softly. "Use every weapon you have. Always."
Dick nods his head, wrapping his cape tight around him.
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iceemochaa · 2 days ago
Text
WHO KNEW?
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Remmick X Reader
A/N: Heyyyyyy, did somebody ask for Remmick Riding Fic??
I want to say thank you to my pookie @fuckoffbard for giving me this idea. She gave me her blessings to write something that was self indulgent and I wanted to deliver it with love. It took me a while to write and I’m so glad I kept picking at it until it all made sense on paper. Lemme go finish my other 5 fics now. Enjoy :)
Warning: MDNI, No use of name or Y/n, reader insert, Reader isnt described, Riding, fem Reader, AFAB, Creampie, slight breeding if you squint, slight blood play, kissing, kissing with blood, Remmick uses his claws maybe once or twice, cursing, dirty talk, P in V (lowkey what’s the difference), Remmick cries cause I love men being pathetic. Slight Cervix fucking if you squint. If you see any grammar or punctuation mistakes, no you didn’t :)
Word Count:3.6 k
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The rapid beats of your heart echoes through your ears, your lips begging for you to stop chewing so harshly. It's only been a few short minutes since Remmick had worked his hands all over you— Freeing you of your clothing, tossing them carelessly in a pile somewhere. He whispered dirty things that he promises he’ll do to you— Soon, later, it didn't matter. All you knew was that Remmick was a man of his words.
He had you pressed against him, chest to chest so that he could breathe you in, Rub his scent right against yours. There's light red hickeys along your neck and arms— something Remmick did when he got all worked up, sucking your skin in his mouth to keep from inserting his fangs. Sometimes he went a little overboard, applying too much pressure until your skin underneath turned a deeper shade.
Currently you looked like a painter's canvas that was going through the rough draft stage; Hints of purple and shades of red painted all over your body. You didn't mind— You liked how considerate he was, never too hard but enough to make you feel, even if you did want him to go further.
For now, This was fine.
When he was done marking your body, soothing kisses placed above the marks— feeling almost satisfied, He tossed you on top of him and got real cozy under your weight. He used his slick tone and smooth voice to ask a simple question that left you paralyzed. A question that your brain has been mulling over and over. It wasn't anything bad— well, maybe to you but Remmick hasn't stopped smirking. He looked like a shark, all teeth and beady black eyes and you were the unfortunate fish that was soon to be his dinner.
“Why don't you Ride me darlin’? .” He said with such an enthusiastic drawl.
Since then you've been in a state of panic. Sure, you've done a lot of things with Remmick that you're too embarrassed to admit out loud but your body still reacts the same— it tingles and gets all warm and mushy when he has you pressed against him, with deep kisses lingering on your lip but this? This right here with your full weight sitting on top of his lap is too much.
“What if I hurt you?” you say in a small whisper but Remmick can hear you just fine. He simply looks at you with a hungry stare, He’s watching you, trying to gauge your reaction. Its the look he usually does when he devotes his full attention to you, shifting ever so slightly under.
“Hurt me? Darlin’ you could never.” he chuckles, tracing soothing circles on the side of your hip but then he quickly adds in, “Trust me, I've been through worse.”
“What's worse than this?” You ask, curiosity getting the best of you.
Remmick stops drawing circles to pinch the fat of your thigh lightly, “Besides burning in the sun?” he takes a few seconds to really search his brain for all the times he had to either catch prey or defend his life. Some of those moments really took a lot out of him, sometimes he couldn’t move for days but there was one thing that still gets his brain turning and his teeth aching with burning rage.
“...Maybe being hit with a guitar.”
A singular brow raises against your forehead. “Is that really true?”
“Now your tryin’ to change the topic.”
“Remmick, please, don't make me do this.”
“m’not making you do anythin’,” his says so innocently, making sure to sprinkle in an extra thick southern accent that gets your mind racing. “I'm just enjoying the view from down here, is all.” he says, “If you want to do something then your free to do as you please.”
”O-Oh okay…”
Sensing your hesitation, Remmick shifts your weight so he can sit up, his face only a few inches away. He plants a kiss right against your cheek, it's short and sweet, nothing but burning love flowing. He adds more, moving his lips lower until it reaches your collarbone then he stops to look at you once more through hooded eyes. “You don’t need to be nervous around me, sugar.” He says against your skin then shifts his head back up so his breath can fan against your face. “We've done far worse.” he says plain as day, the worse being even more freakier things he likes to suggest.
“I’ll gladly accept anything you do to me. You could never hurt me.”
“Are you sure?” You ask once more. Insecurity and fear was a glowing white beacon above your head. You believed Remmick, fully and completely, you just didn’t believe in yourself. What if you suck at it? What if he tells you that he changed his mind about this idea and shoves you off? What if he actually doesn’t like it and he fakes an orgasem? It sounds real childish but it could happen. You would rather indulge in those impossible sex positions he likes to purpose whenever he gets way too in his head.
You shake your head, hoping these feelings would somehow remove themselves from your brain. “You know what, maybe we can do this again later-“
Remmick clicks his tongue in slight annoyance, “Hold on now, Don’t give me that talk.” He chastises you but you can hear the softness in his tone. He wasn’t upset, not at all. An easy going smile, soothing hands, a soft hum. He wanted you to know that this was all fine.
Great even.
“Look, If you want,” he says in a sultry lilt, “I can do that thing with my tongue you like so much right after.”
Huh?
“You know, the one where I lick right up agaisnt-“
“Remmick, Shut up.” You sigh.
“Yes Ma’am.”
Well, here goes nothing.
To build some confidence you figured kissing would be a good start— It was easy and you didn’t have to think so hard about it. You wrap your arms around his neck, hands sliding into the back of his head to feel how soft his hair was. Remmick simply hums, leaning into the touch– almost like a cat. Slowly, You ghost your lips over his, your hand tugging his hair back just slightly so he was forced to look up at you. You can see something deep and primal in his eyes, like he was waiting for you to do this. Have him underneath you, have you take the lead.
You watch as Remmicks eyes glide across your face and slowly land on your mouth, his tongue peeking out to lick across his bottom lip like he was starving— He was always starving for you. You can tell by the way drool builds up in the corner of his mouth, his lips opening and closing like a fish. Like he needed air and the only air he wanted was you.
“Your drooling baby.” You note with a grin, observing the way it slowly drips down onto his chest. Remmick merely smirks, his hand coming up to cup your face in a soft embrace.
“That I am.” He says.
You press your lips right against his, You can hear Remmick breathing in your scent. His tongue pressing against your lips, asking for permission to taste you further. When you do let him in, he wastes no time to explore your mouth, his moan vibrating through you with sloppy sounds mixed with drool. Remmicks hand roams around your skin to keep him grounded. He was trying his best not to take control— have you take the lead but it was getting harder. You tasted so divine.
You glide both of your hands up his shoulders and push him down easily. He follows your lead without hesitation. Once you have him pressed against the bed, you finally break the kiss to plant light pecks on his cheek then slowly work your way towards his neck until you reach the shell of his ear. A low groan erupts from his throat when you suck his earlobe, your teeth working its way to tugging and nipping the shell of his ear soon after.
“Shit— where’d you learn that?” Remmick gasps softly.
“I have a good teacher.” You whisper in his ear, heat building on your cheeks, your nerves slowly turning into want and need— Enjoying the way the roles are slowly reversing. It’s usually him making you squirm and get all flushed but now he’s the one coming undone. You pull back to give him a once over, getting one more confirmation that this was 100% alright. Remmick simply nods his head.
“Well?” He says, “don’t stop now.”
You got this, you chant into your head over and over. He’s okay with it. It’s perfectly fine. Just move.
So you do.
You lift up to grab his weeping cock, feeling the way it burns in your hand. You heard a low groan shutter through the air— His chest starts to move quicker, his eyes growing wider, his fingers pressing deeper into your soft skin now. He didn't have to say anything but his body sure loves to talk— You can feel his muscle fidget under the palm of your hand that’s being pressed against his stomach, The growing anticipation too much to bear. You look towards him for any hints of discomfort, Maybe another confirmation that this was a totally bad idea but he's too busy watching the way his cock is getting closer and closer to where he really wants to be.
Okay, you got this.
He said it was fine, right? You take deep breaths, slowly guiding yourself down until the tip presses against your folds. You're already so wet, practically dripping due to Remmick playing with you earlier before this whole internal conflict started. He glides in so smoothly, entering into your warmth inch by inch. The pain of how big he is completely long gone and now masked with desire.
A small hiss slips from Remmicks mouth, his brows furrowing. “That’s it, nice and slow.” He says. It doesn’t take long for you to be fully seated on his lap now. His hard cock snuggled right inside, right where it belonged.
You stop suddenly, fear brewing once more. “I can’t- fuck, it’s too much,“ you choke out, Your nails digging into his chest to keep yourself together.
“Yes you can— your doing it already.” He coos, like he's trying to calm a frightened animal.
Remmick draws light feathered circles against your skin, his eyes fully scanning your face now. “Darlin, Your doin’ so well,” he says tilting his head back just slight. Still watching you, still trying to calm you down, Your comfort being too important to him.
“Whenever your ready. Move those pretty hips for me.” he sighs softly, “I promise im not goin’ anywhere.”
Here goes nothing.
You finally grow some confidence and lift up slightly, testing the waters, Feeling the way his hand clenches to keep a tight hold on Your hips. He doesn’t want to let you go, you don’t want him too. You come back down slowly, feeling the way your walls grow tighter when he enters once more.
This feels different.
Not in a bad way.
Exciting, new, different.
It feels a little overwhelming at first, trying to make sure you're not dropping your full weight on him all while he’s nuzzled inside your cunt but slowly the burning need grows. You do it again, lifting up to come back down on his length. A soft moan leaving your lips at the sensation. It’s usually Remmick who’s taking the reins; the one finding pleasure for you, Moving at his own accord when he wants. He'll find a rhythm that gets his stomach pooling with heat, a position that has your muscles burning, your mind ditzy.
Now?
You're the one holding the reins, Taking control. Before you know it, you're riding him in slow paces. Your hands pressed against his chest to support yourself— hips grinding down so you can find that slight, hot, burn that makes your stomach churn.
Remmick has his hands tight around your waist, his hold almost bruising. You both don’t say anything, nothing but the low grunts and moans echoing throughout the room. For the first time Remmick isn’t talking his head off— too lost in the pleasure, His eyes pinned to the constant exposure of his cock entering your cunt.
Perhaps you should do this more often, you think.
Soon enough the nervousness begins to wash away into pleasure and your moving faster. The sounds of skin on skin begin to mix into the air. You can feel warmth pooling down from your chest and slowly creeping its way to where you're connected to Remmick, like someone lit a fire under a stove. Your hips were being bruised by his hold, his fingers pressing into your skin. The more you ride him the more you start to take note that his claws are lightly scraping against your skin, leaving unruly red marks. They don’t dig in enough to bleed but you can feel them cementing themselves— A reminder that you made Remmick come undone.
“Sugar, m’close, so so close…” Remmick Whines under his breath, his voice dipping into a higher pitch. While his voice only stirs you on, You can’t help but stare at the way his fangs peeks out between his lips, how his tongue presses against them and then lulls out between them.
“Gonna- mhmm - I’m gonna, fuckkkk. Baby-“
“Not yet,” You groan, stopping to grind down hard, making sure he knows he won’t get a reward if he doesn’t listen. “Not until I say so.” You reprimand him.
Remmick throws his head back, a deep rumble echoing through his chest. You can feel the muscles under his skin tense, his hips practically jump in anticipation.
“m’sorry…” Remmick whines, “Please, I’ll be good.“ Pathetic cries begin pooling from his mouth, his head nodding away from the pure bliss he was experiencing.
“I don’t know…” you say offhandedly.
”Fuck, please, I’ll be good! Just— faster.” He begs, He looked good like this, all desperate and pathetic like. Almost like you’ve been withholding this from him for centuries. To think all it took was riding him like there was no tomorrow.
You watch as his eyes shut close, his breathing becoming unsteady. his fangs peeking out to brush against his bottom lip.
“You overwhelmed baby?”
Remmick bobs his head, sucks in a breath when you slam back down.
“Look at me.” You coo softly.
Remmicks glowing red eyes snap towards your own and what a glorious sight it was.
His ruby eyes half lidded but filled with adoration for you. His chest glistening with sweat and some other substance that you're sure is the copious amount of drool that’s been pooling from the corner of his mouth. How delicious he looked, hair tousled and chest heaving in rapid succession.
“Aren’t you a sight.” You chuckle.
“Please Darlin’ m’not gonna last any longer.”
How cute, you think, Remmick who’s always boasting and teasing you for crying and whining that it’s too much and yet he can’t handle it either.
“How about you beg me darlin. Tell me how much this pussy makes you cry.”
Remmicks eyes widen for a moment, His mouth gaping open like a fish. You swear you can hear the gears turning in his pretty little head. His cock throbs inside of you so good it makes your thighs clench around his waist.
“Your doing so…so, so—fuck, I can’t-“ He sobs in broken syllables.
You fingertips glides down the front of his chest, slowly working its way until it stops on his stomach and you press down slightly. “Yes you can, your almost there.”
“I— mhmm, baby, feels so good—“
“That’s it, keep going.”
”Your so perfect— fuck! made just f’me. Never want to let you go—“
You lean down so that your breath fans against his ear when you say, “You want to come inside?”
Remmicks entire body almost lifts off the bed.
“Yes! please!— wanna pump you full, gonna fucking— shit,” he sobs out loud, “Pussy feels so good, made just for me.”
You speed up once more, the sounds of skin connecting and moans mingled together brings hot fire straight into your core— you're getting so close too, his cocking hitting so deep inside it almost makes your eyes roll back. You figured this would be the time to push your limits— have him come undone with tears in his eyes instead. What a pretty sight it would be, a memory you won’t hesitate to bring again later when he says something smart about the roles reversing back.
“You can do better than that.” You say, testing the waters. “Show me how much you want to cum.”
Remmick doesn’t hesitate to follow your orders, his hips lifting so he can meet your rhythm. His hands moving to squeeze your ass— his claws digging into your skin, holding purchase, using your body to bring him to a climax he desperately needs. You can tell he was close, his hips faltering and then picking up again. He’s practically pounding into you, a speed so inhuman that it makes your pussy numb with pleasure.
God, if he kept going like this— his cock pistoning into your cervix once more, you're going to be sore for days. Wobble on your legs like a newborn dear but you won’t complain. Not when the view of Remmick’s blissed out face will be imprinted in your memory.
“N-Now?” he whines, turning his head to suck a deep mark into your shoulders. His nose tucked into your neck once more. You can feel his fangs brush over your skin just slight, his legs tensing everytime they brush against your thighs and the best part of all? The delicious sound of Remmick pounding into you.
“Y-Yeah, fuck— do whatever you want baby. You earned it.”
Remmick thrusts up into your core a few more times, loud moans echos through the room and he cums right inside of you. Pumping you full, making sure he paints the inside of your cunt white. He doesn’t pull out, no, he wants to make sure your filled to the brim. Nothing but him occupying your cunt from the inside out.
“Ohhh—so tight, mhmmm” he cries into your skin, “I’m— fuckkk!” You can hear a slight hiss afterwards, his forehead pressing into your shoulders. Suddenly you feel warm liquid coat your chest, his mouth gliding along your shouder.
When you turn to look at him, you catch a glimpse of red slide down his chin. He was holding back from biting you— the moment too much for him to handle, his fangs practically pierced through his bottom lip.
“You okay?”
Remmick simply nods, too dazed to give a coherent response anyways. You can’t help but eye his lips once more, watch the way fresh blood pools against his skin. The sight of him all bloody and messy makes your pussy clench around him and he groans.
Without thinking, Your hand wraps around his chin to pull him close, your mind racing with nothing but the need to claim him once more. An idea crosses your mind, something you’ve always dreamed of doing and now was the perfect time to act on it. You squeeze his chin softly, leaning down to plant your lips against his, the muscle bloody and almost swollen but you didn’t care.
The taste of iron and drool only makes the craving grow.
Soon enough your teeth come down to replace the indent of his fangs, biting down hard— making sure another wound opens on his lips and then you just tug. Sucking in his bottom lip, the taste of his blood intoxicating.
You let it go, watch as his lip snaps back into place and Remmick almost howls— his hips jerking up into your cunt, his hands shooting to cup your face.
“Fuck, do it again.” He whines into your mouth.
You comply easily, the taste of him is too good to ignore. You press your teeth down In another untouched area and bite down again, until a fresh new wound cuts open his skin, the flow of blood and spit dribbles out from your kiss.
You swear you can hear Remmick purr against your hand.
When you both part your lips, A long drawn out moan leaves between you two— A spit line follows along until it disconnects when you lean back unto his lap again. You can feel the swell inside, his cocked nuzzled deep into your cervix, right where he belongs. When you finally feel like you’ve had your fill of everything Remmick gives you, his entire being devoted and at your mercy, you sit up slowly.
Remmick hums lowly, his breathing at its regular pace again. He looked fucked up but satisfied completely, a goofy grin laying on his face. He looks down to watch the aftermath, The tip of his cock popping out to reveal an overflow of his cum—it practically spills from your cunt, drooling right back on his pelvis.
“You did so well hun.” You say, teasing and soft, copying the warm southern tone he likes to soothe you with. Who knew you had it in you to reduce Remmick to a weeping mess?
Remmick smiles happily at you, sucking in his bottom lip to taste the spit that lingers from your heavy kiss. His hands moving up to massage your hips. He feels the indents in your skin, the pads of his fingers tracing the lines over and over.
You can get used to this, you think.
“Wanna go again?” you smile.
“Yes please.”
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naamahdarling · 2 days ago
Photo
Great news! For those doubting its authenticity, it's on the British Library's site.
I've seen a couple of people doubting it because of how the text in the speech bubbles looks.
It looks like that because the upper bit of text was typeset for a printing press using wee metal letters, and those had straight tops and bottoms and they used guides to make sure all the little metal letter blocks lined up straight.
For a sideways-tilting thing, they had to individually place each letter, turned a little to the side, with no straight bottom line. Note how the letters are out of line up and down in relation to each other, but not in their rotation; the sides were straight up against each other. I'm not an expert, but I'm guessing it was so they could get all the text in one go, instead of having to do more passes with the paper rotated on one of them?
The extra space in the bubbles was probably because the artist would not have known exactly how much room it would take, but was making an educated guess. Heck. They may not even have known exactly what would be printed there, just that it would be very rude.
It would have been suspicious if the type had HAD a straight base line, since rotating a whole block of text like this in an image editor is very easy, and replicating THIS level of jankiness today would require each letter to be rotated and aligned individually on a different layer, and either messing around with the text by creating imperfections that make each letter distinct or using alternate letters, if the font even had them which most free or cheap ones do not, since looking closely shows that they aren't identical -- literally because they were different pieces of metal and the ink was not perfect. It would be a massive pain in the ass for a joke. I make stupid fake shit for funsies, and even I would not go through this much effort for something I didn't think was really important. I definitely NEVER thought of the letters being out of alignment vertically.
So the image is indeed real! This really is just a genuinely hilarious authentic period image of two ladies having at each other.
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the more things change the more they stay the same
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dreamwritesimagines · 2 days ago
Text
Declassified [12] - Pressure
A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful support my loves, you are so amazing🩷 I hope you like this chapter as well! 🥰 And please let me know what you think! 🩷
Pairing: Congressman!Bucky x Female!Reader
Summary: Having a high pressure job has its consequences.
Warnings: Explicit language, panic attacks.
Word Count: 4.9k
Series Masterlist
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The news of the breakup spread like wildfire.
To be honest, you hadn’t expected anything different. This had to be one of the rare times that Caleb hated being in PR because even you could tell that he was working way too hard.
And of course, your name had been brought up multiple times, but so far there wasn’t anything actually threatening thanks to Bucky and Hazel having attended the gala together right before they broke up. 
“Mom, how did you know dad was the one?”
Your mother looked up from the bowl she was mixing the cake mixture in, then let out a laugh.
“What brought this on?”
“Just curious.” You dangled your legs from the high stool and sipped your coffee before putting the mug on the kitchen island. “Also, I would like to ask again, why are we in the kitchen? You don’t cook.”
“I’m baking.”
“You don’t bake either.”
“Well, one of the girls in my spiritual retreat said it would be a good bonding practice between mothers and daughters.”
You pulled your brows together.
“I guess today is good as any to start,” you murmured. “Fine, okay. We’re bonding, see? Tell me how you knew, other than the fact that he dazzled you with money.”
“Oh I didn’t care about the money.”
You tilted your head. “Uh, are you sure? I mean no offense obviously, but I always assumed money played a part. Safety and all that.”
“I did feel safe with him but that had nothing to do with the money.”
“So you were actually in love with him.”
“I was and I am.”
You made a face. “Oh come on, that I don’t buy. You can be honest, there’s no way you’re still in love with him.”
“Why not?”
You let out a laugh. “Because he’s evil?”
She rolled her eyes and started pouring the mixture into the cupcake tray. “He’s not evil, honey.”
“Well…” You cleared your throat. “I mean he has been bribing and extorting politicians for decades so that things work the way he wants them to work. That’s like, textbook bad. Disney movie bad.”
“Funny, I heard a lot of people say Bucky Barnes is a bad man, but you seem very eager to defend him.”
“That has nothing to do with—okay, let’s never ever put Bucky in the same category with dad ever again,” you said with a laugh. “It’s kind of like lumping The Night King and Jon Snow together.”
“I didn’t watch that show.”
“They’re like complete opposites.” You took another sip of your coffee. “Let me put it this way; Bucky would sacrifice his own life to save someone, dad would sacrifice the whole world to save himself.”
“And you, and me.”
You made a noise of disagreement.
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” you said. “You yes. Me, doubtful.”
“He does love you, you know.”
“No he doesn’t.” You shrugged your shoulders. “And I don’t mind, really.”
“He does,” your mother insisted. “It’s just that, you’re both very stubborn and don’t know how to communicate.”
“That and our political stances and our principles and our goals are very different.”
“So what?” she asked as if it was just trivial, and you scoffed a laugh.
“You seriously don’t mind what he does?” you asked. “All those people he hurt? All the corruption?”
“I’m not interested in what he does at work. I’m interested in what kind of a man he is with us, his family.”
You grimaced. “That’s not how it works, mom.”
“It’s how it works with me.”
You rubbed at your eyes, heaving a sigh. “I guess this just proves it.”
“Proves what?”
“I’ve always thought that…” you trailed off. “I’ve always thought you and him were just meant to be together, but I wasn’t supposed to be in the picture.”
“Never say that!” She gasped. “We love you!”
“That’s not it,” you said with a weak smile. “No, you guys make sense together, in some very weird and unhealthy way. But I don’t, you know what I mean?”
“That’s so not true,” she said, putting pieces of chocolate into the batter in the pan. “And as I’ve said, your father loves you and me. What he does at work doesn’t matter.”
“It actually does,” you said. “You might be able to pick and choose, but I wouldn’t be able to do that.”
“Is that why you broke up with Max?”
“That dickhead voted for the opposition.”
She turned to you. “Please tell me you didn’t break up with him over that.”
“See? It doesn’t matter to you,” you said. “But it matters to me. And hey, it’s a good thing I dumped him, apparently he was cheating on me anyway.”
Her jaw dropped and she reached out to squeeze your hand. “Aw I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine, I don’t care,” you said. “I mastered the art of detachment thanks to the revolving door of nannies you guys kept changing when I was little, so it’s okay.”
“Well, we just didn’t know who was the best for you.”
You bit at your lip to hold back your retort.
“How’s everything at work?” she asked. “Are those rumors still going on?”
“Well, to some extent but no picture or anything,” you said. “Just whispers.”
“And you like him?”
“Professionally, yes.”
Bullshit.
It was a good thing that your mother hardly ever spent time with you, she didn’t know how to read you.
The truth was that every day your feelings for Bucky were getting deeper. You knew that Hazel was right, you knew the risks but somehow, when you thought about him kissing you…
Your brain just refused to be logical.
Granted that didn’t mean you were going to throw all the caution to the wind, but you were wondering if something was wrong with you if that didn’t intimidate you as much as it was supposed to.
“A lot of my friends think he’s too handsome to be in politics.” Her voice pulled you out of your thoughts. “And they have a lot of questions.”
“About him?”
She hummed and walked to the oven to take a look at it. “Which button do I turn?”
You jumped from the stool to turn the button. “This one.”
“Aw thank you,” she said as she put the tray in, then closed it and turned to you. “So what’s he like?”
You took your seat again. “In politics?”
“In his daily life. Why did he and that girl break up?”
You cleared your throat. “Um, difference in opinions.”
“On what?”
“No idea, that’s what I’ve been told.”
She hummed, sitting down as well. “And you guys are close?”
“Professionally.”
“But you consider him a friend as well?” she asked. “I don’t know many people who are friends with their boss.”
“You don’t know many people with a boss.”
“Fair,” she admitted. “But that’s irrelevant. Tell me more about him, we’re all curious. Is he nice?”
“Oh absolutely.”
“To you? Even with all these rumors?”
You couldn’t help but smile, then nodded your head.
“He um…” you trailed off, biting your lip. “He’s amazing, mom. I know a lot of people think there are still traces of the Winter Soldier in him, but it’s not like that at all. He’s the sweetest, I’d trust him with my life. He even—”
You stopped yourself and your mother leaned in, curiosity shining in her eyes. “What?”
“He got Blinky back for me.”
She blinked a couple of times in confusion. “Who’s Blinky?”
Of course.
You hesitated for a second before you forced yourself to smile and shook your head.
“It’s not important,” you mumbled. “Anyways, enough about me, how was your retreat?”
                                                *
The next day, you didn’t even have the time to go to lunch. You had to work on the draft Bucky had asked you to, and of course you had volunteered to go over the revisions Lucas had sent you just so that you could impress Congresswoman Gray, and your phone kept buzzing with emails every two minutes.
And for some reason, everything was louder today.
You took a deep breath, willing your heartbeat to calm down as you clenched and unclenched your hands, staring at the screen before you deleted the last line, and added a new one.
“Please don’t tell me we’re back to skipping lunch for work.”
Your fingers froze over the keyboard before you looked over your shoulder to see Bucky watching you, leaning against the doorframe.
“I had a protein bar and like two cups of red eye, I’m fine.”
His worried gaze raked over you, making your heartbeat even faster.
“I thought we had a deal.”
“I’ll eat when I’m done with this.” You nodded at the screen and he came to lean against your desk, making you bite back a smile.
“Birdie.”
You heaved a dramatic sigh at his teasing tone and looked up at him. “Hm?”
“Let’s have lunch.”
“You literally came back from lunch.”
“I can eat again.” He started tilting the screen of your laptop down but you batted his hand away, then fixed the screen again. “It’s a metabolism thing.”
“Super soldier metabolism?”
“Mm hm.”
“Good for you, I’m too busy,” you said. “I already spent enough time doing nothing with my mom yesterday when I was supposed to go over this, so…”
“You were with your mom?” he asked. “How did that go?”
“Dad wasn’t home so it was fine. Ish.”
“Fine-ish?”
“My mom doesn’t really know much about me but the parts she knows, she loves to dismiss,” you said. “They make a terrific couple with my dad, terrible parents though.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” you said. “Without them, my old therapist wouldn’t have been able to buy her second Ferrari, so I guess it wasn’t a total disaster.”
“And you can tell me all about it while we’re having lunch.”
You turned to your laptop. “Take a powder, Barnes.”
Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the clear confusion on his face but it turned into an amused smile, a chuckle escaping his lips.
“How did you…?”
“Hey, I could have an extensive vocabulary.” You grinned at him. “You don’t know my lexicon.”
“Right. Why do I feel like you googled 40s slang?”
“I once saw you google if lavender is edible, so how about we stop pointing fingers?” you asked and he shook his head vigorously.
“In my defense, Kelsey got me a lavender latte and insisted I had to try it.”
“And what did you think? Your assistant was trying to poison you?”
He shot you a look as if you were asking him a question with a very obvious answer. “It’s Kelsey.”
You thought for a moment, then shrugged your shoulders.
“Fair enough,” you said. “But come on, she—”
You stopped talking when your phone started buzzing, making both you and Bucky turn your glances to the screen, and you both frowned at the same time.
“He’s still calling you?” Bucky asked and held out his hand for you to give him the phone, but you shook your head.
“I’ll handle him,” you said and answered the phone. “Max, go fu—”
“Wait wait, don’t hang up,” he cut you off. “I swear, this will be very civil and you’re gonna want to listen to what I have to say.”
You rolled your eyes, leaning back on your chair while Bucky kept his eyes on you.
“What?” you asked crossly and he took a deep breath.
“I saw that piece about you and Barnes.”
“I’m going to hang up now.”
“A journalist contacted me,” he said in a rush. “He wanted to know whether there was anything going on between you and him while we were still dating.”
Your stomach dropped, your eyes snapping up to Bucky before you gritted your teeth.
“And let me guess,” you said. “You told him you’d think about it and now you’re calling me to ask for something.”
“No actually,” he said. “I told him we broke up because I cheated on you, because you put your career over our relationship, the very same career you wouldn’t risk for anyone much less your boss.”
You pulled back slightly. “…What?”
“I gathered ambitious bitch sounded better than greedy slut. Not that you’re either of those but you know, the guy was an asshole.”
 You let out a surprised laugh.
“You’re telling me you had the perfect opportunity to fuck with me and you didn’t take it?”
“Yeah.”
“And you’re not asking for anything in return?”
“No, I just wanted to let you know,” he said. “If they called me, it means they’re working on a piece.” 
You frowned, drumming your fingernails on the desk.
“And why would you do this without asking for anything in return?”
He fell quiet for a moment, then cleared his throat.
“Tessa said she’d leave me if I didn’t go to therapy,” he said. “And my therapist made me realize it wasn’t cool, what I did. What with keeping Blinky and stuff.”
“By ‘stuff’ you mean cheating on me, or the ultimatum or going behind my back at voting?” you asked and he took a deep breath.
“Yeah. Sorry about all that.”
As much as you wanted to tell him to go fuck himself, you figured this was at least just a little progress.
Very little, but either way.
“Well, what do you know?” you muttered. “I mean you’re still an asshole, that goes without saying but I appreciate the heads up.”
“My therapist says I have um… he says I am scared of emotional intimacy. That’s why I cheated on you, he says.”
“Yeah Max, because he can’t say you’re an asshole. You’re paying him.”
“I guess.” He snorted a laugh. “How’s DC?”
“Full of people who’d love to step on your back for their own gain. I haven’t slept in two days.”
Bucky shot you a disapproving look but you waved a hand in the air.
“So you’re having the time of your life?”
“Something like that.”
“That’s good—” He started but you heard another voice coming from the other line, probably his assistant. “I uh, sorry, I gotta go. Work thing.”
“I gathered,” you replied. “It’s almost five minutes.”
“…Yeah, that wasn’t cool either,” he said. “Also sorry about that.”
“Listen, how about I send you a list of things you should be sorry for and we can get all of them out the way?”
He let out a chuckle. “That’d make therapy so much easier. Can I call or email you to apologize then?”
“Call me and I’ll see if I’m in the forgiving mood,” you said and hung up, then looked up at Bucky.
“So, great news,” you said. “A journalist asked Max if you and I had an affair while I was with him, but he said no.”
“And he didn’t ask for anything in return?”
“He’s doing therapy, as it turns out,” you said. “My belief in psychology has been renewed because honestly, if they can make Max apologize…”
Bucky’s lips twitched into a smile and you bounced your leg, biting inside your cheek.
“We need to find who this journalist is.”
“I will.” His voice was completely calm. “And I’ll take care of it.”
“You can’t threaten him.”
“If he didn’t want me to threaten him, he shouldn’t have dragged you into whatever nonsense he’s working on,” he said, making your heart skip a beat. “That’s just not how it works.”
You tilted your head, feigning confusion. “I thought I was the one protecting you.”
He winked at you. “It’s a two-way street.”
You rolled your eyes at him playfully as he turned his head to look at the approaching footsteps before Caleb appeared at the door and let out a groan.
“I’m like two seconds away from assigning a chaperone to you like we’re in Georgian era,” he said. “Bucky, you might be familiar with that.”
“Wrong century, Caleb.”
“Well, how about we don’t start another fire when I’ve just extinguished the other one?”
You held up your hands and turned your attention to the screen, your cheeks burning and Bucky heaved a sigh, then pushed himself off the desk.
“Make her eat something.”
“I will but did you have the chance to think about what I said?”
You looked between them. “What did you say?”
“Caleb thinks we all should have a barbeque at my new place,” Bucky said. “Something something PR.” 
“It would show you’re still relatable and that you’re doing fine after the breakup.”
“That’s not a terrible idea,” you mused. “I haven’t been to your new place yet, and I missed Alpine.”
“And the team would love it,” Caleb added and Bucky’s gaze stopped on you as if he was torn between ideas, then cleared his throat.
“Yeah, whatever,” he told Caleb who pumped his fist in the air in victory. “Just let me know when.”
“Will do!”
“And I’m not locking Alpine in the room,” he said as he walked into his office. “She gives me an attitude for days when I do that.”
Caleb approached you to plop down on the chair next to your desk.
“Thanks for convincing him.”
“I barely said anything.”
“Well, I’ve been begging him for a week and one word from you…” he trailed off and you shook your head, then turned to him.
“Caleb.”
“Hm?”
“There’s something you need to know as Bucky’s communications director.”
His grin wiped off his face in a second. “What?”
“There’s a journalist,” you said. “And apparently he’s been asking questions about me and Bucky.”
Caleb ran a hand over his face, cussing under his breath.
“Of course,” he said and pulled out his phone. “It was getting a bit too peaceful today, so why not? Be right back.”
You watched him walk out of the office and pressed your hands on your eyes before you dropped them, straightening your back.
“It’s fine,” you murmured to yourself as you turned your attention back to the screen. “It’s totally fine.”
                                      *
As your anxiety would show you; it was not, in fact, fine.
You had spent the whole day working, and now almost everyone had left but Kelsey and Bucky, both of whom were in a meeting with Congressman Murray.
And you. Working overtime.
It was already dark out, and the only thing illuminating the office was your laptop screen. You could feel the migraine slowly making its way to your temples. For the whole day, your chest hadn’t stopped feeling tight, like you couldn’t get enough air into your lungs especially after Max had told you about the journalist. In addition to all that, the work you had to cover was getting bigger and bigger, you still had one hundred pages to go over, and to make the necessary edits.
In other news, you might have bitten more than you could chew.
You typed away at the keyboard, forcing yourself to hum a melody in hopes of calming yourself down before you got up from your chair to make your way to Bucky’s office. You grabbed the file from his desk and went back to your desk, but before you could sit down, your phone buzzed on the desk, the screen lighting up.
From: Dad
We need to talk about the journalist.
And just like that, your line of sight grew narrow, darkness swallowing everything else other than the phone.
To your terror, you could feel the familiar tingling spreading over your face as your throat tightened, the breath you were taking getting stuck there. A fire burned through your chest, twisting your heart harder and harder while it tried to escape from your ribcage. You could feel your whole body beginning to shake, the floor getting wobbly underneath your feet like quicksand as you took a step back, grasping at your throat with one hand.
You’re not dying.
It’s a panic attack, you’re not dying.
Except that you were sinking.
You held onto the desk with one hand and managed to crouch down to sit on the floor as the room started spinning, your heart pounding in your ears. Nausea crashed down on you while you tried to get enough air in your lungs, your other hand balling up into fist tight enough to cramp.
You’re not dying.
You couldn’t even tell if it was tears or cold sweat running down your face; it was probably both. Your hand on your throat slipped down to your chest to press on it in hopes of soothing the pain there while you forced yourself to take another breath.
You’re not dying.
You see a laptop, you see a chair, you see a—
You hadn’t even heard Bucky stepping into the office before he rushed to you, his hands grasping your upper arms, almost frantically checking you for injuries like he wanted to see if you were bleeding.
“Birdie?”
“Not dying,” you managed to gasp out. “Panic attack.”
That made him stop only for a moment, a look of absolute relief crossing his face and he let out a breath.
“Okay,” he said. “You’re breathing very fast right now, can you breathe with me?”
You nodded your head, taking a shaky breath at the same time as him, then exhaled. For almost a minute, you followed his lead and once you weren’t breathing as fast, he gave you a small smile.
“There you go,” he said. “Five things you can see?”
That made your eyes snap to his as you took another breath. “How do you—?”
“Five things,” he said and you exhaled.
“Laptop,” you rasped out. “Chair. Papers. Desk. My fox figure on my desk.”
“Four things you can hear.”
You tried to focus, pulling your brows together.
“Your voice,” you said. “Footsteps from the hallway. AC.  Um…”
“One more.”
“The laptop running,” you said, pressing your palm on the floor. “And three things I can feel are…the marble floor, and sweat dripping down the back of my neck, which is fucking disgusting—”
“Birdie, focus.”
“And um, the wind. From the AC.”
“And two things you can—”
“Smell. Your cologne and paper. I just printed a bunch of stuff.” 
“And one thing you can taste?”
“Blood. I bit my tongue too hard.”
His eyes searched your face and you let out another shaky breath, exhaustion creeping up on you as you leaned your head back to the wall. Bucky hesitated for a second before he sat beside you, leaning back against the wall.
“How do you know grounding techniques?” you asked after a pause and he shrugged his shoulders.
“Mandatory therapy.”
“Ah,” you said, fixing your eyes on the ceiling. “Interesting.”
“And I’m guessing this is not your first panic attack?” he asked, making you scoff a laugh.
“Nope,” you said. “Been having them since I was like twelve.”
Bucky’s brows pulled into a frown. “Twelve?”
“Yup,” you said. “As it turns out, if you put too much pressure on a kid and yell at them whenever they didn’t meet the expectations, their brain gets messed up. Who would’ve known?”
“I’m going to kill your father.”
“You can’t,” you said. “If he’s dead, who’s gonna go around crossroads to make deals for people’s souls?”
“Birdie.”
“I’m fine,” you said even if your arms felt way too heavy when you raised your hand to wipe the sweat off your forehead. “This happens, no big deal.”
“How often?”
“Not regular,” you said. “Sometimes. But let me tell you, I would not last a day back in the 1940s. I saw those documentaries, my husband would send me off to an asylum and they’d try to lobotomize—”
“I’m giving you time off.”
“Tough shit, I’m not taking it.”
He gave you a look. “I’ll change the locks to the office.”
“I’ll work in the hallway.”
He ran a hand over his face as if he was straining his mind to come up with a solution and you wiggled your brows despite exhaustion.
“Sorry. I guess you shouldn’t have hired me, huh?”
“If I hadn’t hired you, neither of us would be here,” he said and thought for a moment. “Well, I wouldn’t be, at least. You would have probably made someone else win so you’d be here.”
“I wouldn’t have worked for someone else,” you murmured and he licked his lips.
“Please take some time off.”
“Nope.”
“You either take some time off, or I’m hiring someone to help you out with the workload.”
Your eyes widened. “Bucky, no.”
“Bucky yes.”
“I don’t trust anyone else with what I do,” you said. “They’re gonna miss something, some detail and then I’ll have to go over what they did anyway.”
“Either vacation, or this,” he said, his voice signaling this was not open to discussion. “You’re not leaving me with many options here.”
“There is an option!” you exclaimed. “The system we have works.”
“It obviously doesn’t if you haven’t slept in two days and the workload is triggering a panic attack.”
“It didn’t though!” you insisted. “It’s a coincidence, not a chain of events.”
“I’m not risking it.”
You huffed out, slipping a little on the floor and crossing your arms while Bucky’s lips twitched into a fond smile.
“You’re pouting.”
“I’m not pouting, I’m contemplating,” you corrected him and gritted your teeth, then rolled your eyes. “Fine. I’ll give the okay though, whoever you hire. I need to make sure they can handle this whole thing.”
“Didn’t think otherwise.”
You let out a noise of displeasure, exhaustion still heavy on your whole body and you leaned your head on his shoulder with a tired sigh. He dipped his head to nuzzle into your hair, making your stomach do a happy flip and you played with the bracelet around your wrist.
“Bucky?”
He hummed into your hair. 
“How did it go with Murray?”
He raised his lips from your hair so that you could hear him; “We’re not talking about work right now.”
“But—”
“Nope.”
“Fine,” you said with a pout. “How are you handling the breakup?”
That made him fall quiet for a moment before he cleared his throat.
“I’m fine.”
You lifted your head and sat up straighter to look up at him better.
“Are you?” you insisted. “For real? Because I wouldn’t blame you if you weren’t. I mean no offense but Hazel is kind of perfect.”
“She is,” Bucky said immediately. “She really is, but I don’t think—uh, I don’t think I was the right person for her.
Your heart sped up again but this time instead of dread, all you could feel was excitement rushing through your veins.
“…Oh,” you managed to say. “Why not?”
That made him fall quiet for a moment, his gaze slipping down to your lips before it snapped up to your eyes again. You couldn’t help but notice his throat bobbed nervously, and he took a deep breath as if he was trying to gather up courage.
Which was insane.
You had seen him throw himself in danger over and over again without so much as a second of hesitation.
“Because,” he started, his voice soft, “Birdie, I—”
“Hello?” Kelsey’s voice carried out from the doorway, snapping both of you out of your daze. “Guys?”
You loved Kelsey but you could swear that the urge to scream at her was way too strong.
Bucky closed his eyes for a moment as if he shared the sentiment, then opened them again, his jaw tightening. You sat up straighter and raised your hand from beside the desk.
“Over here, Kels.”
“What the fuck are you two doing on the floor?” Kelsey asked as she made her way to you and you exchanged glances, then turned to her.
“I…we—uh—”
“I think better when I’m sitting on the floor,” Bucky cut you off and Kelsey tilted her head.
“What?”
“Yeah, it’s a habit from the 1940s.”
Kelsey looked from him to you while Bucky stood up, then offered his hand for you to take it, a warmth spreading from your hand to your arm. You were still exhausted, but you looked up at him and mouthed ‘thank you’. Bucky squeezed your hand in an assuring manner, and you turned to Kelsey.
“Are we going home?”
“Sure, let’s.”
“Call me when you get home?” Bucky murmured and you nodded your head, giving him a small smile, then grabbed your purse off the desk and followed Kelsey out of the office.
“Please don’t tell me you two were having sex on the office floor.”
You let out a laugh, then shook your head.
“We were talking about his ex,” you said and cracked your neck, making a face. “And oh, before I forget, Caleb says we’ll have a barbeque at Bucky’s place this Saturday.”
“At Bucky’s place?” she asked. “All of us?”
“Mm hm, the whole team and I think Sam and Sarah will come too.”
Kelsey grinned at you.
“Just let me know if you happen to find yourself in his bedroom and need me to distract others,” she joked. “During the house tour, that is.”
You pushed at her arm gently.
“There’s gonna be people there,” you reminded her. “Lots of people. Hypothetically, even if Bucky liked me like that—”
“Did they raise you in a convent?”
“That would still be impossible,” you said as if she didn’t interrupt you. “Which by the way, he doesn’t.”
“Uh huh.”
“I don’t even think he finds me hot, to be honest with you,” you said. “It’s like Hazel said. He entertains my crush, that’s it.”
Kelsey threw her head back.
“You are so oblivious,” she groaned. “This barbecue—”
“Will be just a barbecue,” you said. “Some PR thing, that’s it. I assure you.”
332 notes · View notes
saetiate · 2 days ago
Text
call it what it is. (or, the five times sae and you are "just friends". and the one time it stops being possible to deny what this really is.)
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itoshi sae x f!reader fluff. friends to lovers, first kiss, how love happens, reader goes by she/her pronouns and has some personality (sorry, i couldn't get around it bc of The Plot but i kept it as minimal as possible) word count: 2.3k author's note: you both have a whole dinner date, go to events together, take care of each other, and then get surprised when people think you're dating??? okay so the sound of fireworks are less obvious than whatever yall have going on
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Bitterness churns at the back of your throat. Is it from the roasted beans of the coffee you've been slamming into your system for the last few days, or from the lack of sleep?
Not that it matters. You've worked OT, both your team and your clients are unhappy, and according to your Excel worksheet, you're on your 85th job application. So really, it doesn't get worse than —
The doorbell rings.
Who the actual —
You breathe out the biggest sigh at the pretty face standing before you. It's definitely the lack of sleep, isn't it? Either you really should've checked the peephole and put on something a little more flattering, or he's a hallucination.
Let's hope it's the latter. You move to close the door, and his hand reaches out lightning-quick, holding it still. In a spark of annoying rebellion, you press all of your body weight against the door, and it doesn't budge an inch.
Right. Athletes and their stupid, stupid strength.
"You didn't answer my calls."
They say sighing is a necessary part of your lungs, that one of the struggles of artificial lungs was getting them to sigh. You wonder if it meant this many times in a day. "Sae, I'm busy. Wait, I didn't answer your calls? You don't answer my texts 90% of the time."
Then he's in your entryway, because of course you can't argue where your neighbors can hear, that's rude. But then he's in your kitchen, washing his hands, opening your fridge.
"There's nothing in here. When's the last time you took a shower?"
"You come here just to insult me?"
A towel hits your face with an oof before it falls into your arms.
"Sae," you try again, as the towel slides down your cheek, "You can't just barge in here and —"
20 minutes later, there's two steaming bowls of katsu curry rice on your now-clean desk. Sae opens up the little ziplock of togarashi, leans it against your bento box with more care than you'd expect.
"Itakadimasu."
~
It's the strangest thing, walking into your place only for someone to already be in there. How the noise cuts through, something unbelonging but welcomed.
"You know, giving you the key wasn't so you could just walk in here whenever you want. It was for emergencies only."
The only answer you get is the smell of onions being caramelized, crackled sparks of savory in the air.
"I answered your call," you continue, undressing behind a half-open door. "So this can't be an emergency. And you have a much nicer place than this."
Sae barely glances at you as your head peeks into the kitchen. "You could stay there."
"What, with you? Like we're roommates? Nah, you'd see what a mess I am."
"I'm already seeing it."
A spatula waves in little circles around the pan.
“What are you doing here, Sae?”
Like he's already braced for the question, the refrigerator light beacons out into the descending night. Your favorite wine passes from his hand to yours.
"Got gifted it," he responds before you can even ask. You could've caught him looking at you, but the gold label glints with stars in your eyes.
"How'd you get gifted icewine? You've never talked about it in an interview."
He doesn't tell you he asked his manager for recommendations, that he knows they let it slip to someone looking for a brand deal with him. Instead, he watches as you struggle to pop the cork open, the xylophone clink of ice into twin wine glasses.
"So you do like sweet things," you comment as the nectared drink meets your tongue with a smile. There's a reverence to it: how he watches you chop the vegetables before sliding them into the pan, how the last remnants of today's sunlight filter through the window and past your hair.
Sweet things. He supposes he does like something like that.
~
"This event, is it a big deal?"
He vaguely hears a ruffle of clothing behind the half-shut bathroom door, lightstream swept across the floor. He offered you what he knows his teammates get their wives for these events — stylist, makeup artists — but he watched you stand in his bathroom layering on eyeshadow for yourself anyways.
I don't trust anyone else to touch me. A simple statement made stark.
"Sorry, Sae. Could you help zip me up please?"
Maybe it's that implication, that hidden trust you place in him, that makes his exhale a little shaky as one of his hands wraps around your waist to hold the dress down, the other carefully pulling up metal piece up.
You've often thought athletes would naturally be aggressive. You've seen Sae make a fast pass across the entire field without breaking a sweat. But when his hands are on you, they're always light. You think of the falling of snow, its soft and silent touch that comes unexpected, the easy descent it makes before it melts into the ground.
Love is a little like that, maybe.
~
It's a common feeling, to feel as if you're completely alone in this world. Easy to get into your own head, to see only yourself within four walls again and again and forget that there is a whole world outside. It's logical, well-researched, known. It's because of that that you can factor out the feelings when it hits you.
The four walls has never felt as striking as now, coughing into the hollow quiet. The morbid thought strikes that if you died here, no one would know. They'd find your body days later, after the smell starts to waft out.
But you chose this. To move and to fight and to create a life worth living. You, with your ambitions and heavy heart and endless survival faith that makes you somehow believe you can still make it. Sometimes you have to force a door close before wrenching another one open with nothing but your bare hands. Sometimes you have to swallow all your pride and roll up your sleeves and pray to no higher gods you worship that the decision you made is worth it.
You think you hear something click as your mind fogs back and forth into sleep. You hope whoever's burgling you will at least leave you alone and only take what they need. You hear your name, and then a shuffle, and god this is really the worst time to have a stalker.
The back of a hand over your forehead is cool to the touch, the night's breeze still pressed between the molecules.
"You're sick."
Thank you, intruder, for pointing out the obvious is what you want to say. But instead, your head lulls heavily to the side. "I just need to rest for a bit."
"You need a hospital."
"I'm fine. I'm just- being dramatic. But I'm fine."
Your world tips on its axis, warmth blooming into your side. He lifts you into his arms soundlessly. You almost envy how effortless it is for him; the weight you carry is so heavy when you're carrying it yourself.
It's only halfway towards his car that you find yourself processing, finally speaking, "Thank you, Sae."
There's a sharp intake of breath from him, the hard line of his body protecting you from the night's chilled-sweet air. His heartbeat against your ear is as steady as the shore, the way it waits for the kiss of the tide.
"Just call me next time."
~
Sae's not sure how he feels about this.
It's his first time being late when he's meant to be taking you to this event. He moves fast through the crowd, searches with keen eyes. Chandeliers flicker and crystal-light dances —
Only to find you propped up against the wall, Rin leaning down close.
Sae might be less confused if Rin didn't look — for what might be the first time at an event ever — like he actually wanted to be there. He's listening to you with all his attention, has no problem being in your space.
Sae only approaches once you've been whisked away by Bachira.
"Why were you talking to her?"
Rin whips around, and instead of looking guilty, he's in wide-eyed shock, and then narrow-eyed annoyance. "Ha? She's your girlfriend, isn't she?"
Sae blinks. Did he say that? He would've remembered, wouldn't he?
"You good-for-nothing older brother," Rin's voice is a grunt, nothing like the sweetness he gave you. "You didn't even introduce me. I had to fucking find out through Isagi."
"How does Isagi know?"
"Oliver."
"How does Oliver know?"
Rin gives him an begrudged, deadpan look. "He's your teammate?"
That explains nothing. Actually, Sae is even more confused. He has about a dozen more questions.
"She's nice." Rin mumbles low, playing with the stem of his wine glass, watches as it almost tips before swooping it back up.
"You like her?"
"I think she's nice." Rin grits, and Sae really doesn't know how Rin gets away with faux passes on the field when his reactions are this obvious, because he watches how his eyes grow with realization as another thought passes through his brain. "You don't like her?"
"I like her." Sae accepts quickly.
"Ha??? Then what are you asking me for?!"
~
If Sae's being honest, he knows he has more than enough. He wonders what this thing is that he's had since he was born, never satiated even as he reaches the top. He thinks about how Bachira describes his 'monster', a childlike wonder, whether this is his own version of something like that.
But even the blackhole-depths of his greed doesn't anticipate wanting you. Like remembering the sea upon the drink of an oyster. A second breath, heart soaked with knowing.
What am I doing, sleeping in his bed? The night grows darker with every step, so the invite was innocuous enough. You sink into the mattress and the blanket of night muffles the fear, the thought that love is never so easy. There will be complications and contracts —
You turn to him and all the braveheart strength seeps out of you. Maybe you can put it down here, just for a moment.
He looks at you love-first, in a thousand colors, something he can't find with anyone else. He brushes the hair from your face so delicately, you find yourself stuck between watching his relaxed expression and fluttering your eyes shut to absorb the feeling. The back of his fingers caress your cheek, a butterfly's wing.
"Are you happy? Satisfied?"
Sae is not abstract. It's a vague but concrete question. You understand him at first glance.
"Not yet," you exhale honestly. "I have more to do. I'm gonna get there."
I'm gonna be the person I want to be. And by that time, I'll also be —
I'll also be the kind of girl you'd consider worth dating.
"Just wanna be worth it," you smile weakly instead.
He looks at you with a tenderness that feels dangerous. You think of a bird's first flight, the swoop of the fall. The crackle of a flame before it eats the firewood.
"People are worth something the moment they're born," he recites with no inflections.
"I know that."
"You're the one who said that." It's not accusatory, it's a reminder: your own truth, a perception of love you've been made the exception of. It's too heavy with degradation for him to feel comfortable focusing on, so instead he asks something he knows.
"If you had everything you want now, would it be enough?"
You sit up, his eyes following you. Your body heat no longer pressed against his feels like a loss, something he's sure to correct.
"No. You know that's not how it works." You should know, better than anyone.
He does know. That greed is a bottomless abyss, ambition an infinite sky. There is no amount of good enough that could ever make it all feel worth it.
His hand circles around your wrist, pulls you in on top of him until you're chest to chest.
Love is not your right. Shattered somethings cradle your heart. Trees can grow around items. You wonder if your heart is the same — muscle grown strong around fractured glass, a whisper of a cutting edge with every beat.
If you're always going to want more, be better, go further —
Could you have a little something in the now?
He's so close to you now that it fills your mind completely. He's not naked but he feels so bare under you, your hands framing his cheeks, soft skin brushing against your fingertips. One of his hands skates up your back, the other slides up your jaw, cups the back of your neck.
You wonder when you started letting him touch you like that.
He treats you so gently, so unlike the overwhelming emotion that crashes into you. Both lightweight and heavy, you feel swept under, you just want to anchor onto something —
His lips touch yours and everything falls into place.
~
"How'd you know about her?"
Oliver could make it easy for him. He won't, because getting a reaction out of Sae is much more fun. Instead, he tries and fails to feign ignorance. "Who?"
"My girlfriend."
Oliver leans his head back against the wall, a playful smile over his face. "So she is your girlfriend. Loyal too."
Sae narrows his eyes.
"Relax. I just talked to her at one of those events you brought her to."
"You talked to her?"
Oliver gets the sense that Sae is trying to make it sound like a normal question, but all it sounds is exactly how annoyed he feels.
"She just said she's waiting for you."
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notes: unbelonging is not a word, i used it anyways on purpose to strengthen the idea of something not belonging. nectared and lightstream are also not real words, but i like them. twin wine glasses is kind of a reference to twin flames, though i do think you and sae are actually soulmates. i wonder if people can be both. "the weight you carry is so heavy when you're carrying it yourself" is a double meaning, not just your body weight but everything else you carry too.
call it what it is: / a love created, hand-sculpted to fit. / a silent reprieve, / to be seen, / constellations bursting at the seams. / unfounded heart, / a tepid start,/ an easy, soft-sweet thing. / say what this really is. / place it on the justice scales of the abyss. / what you're meant to be / versus what you choose / you can decide you have a right to this.
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ask-the-rag-dolly · 2 days ago
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this is going to be long . but at this point what else do you expect from me .
i've always had a Feeling that ragatha might've gone through abuse since the pilot , and the feeling got stronger with each new episode . her lines employed a lot of passive voice ; which speaks to how astronomically Low her self-esteem is without actually saying it . on top of that , her behavior blared those alarms for me . constantly blaming herself ? people-pleasing ? emotional repression ? they're hallmarks of the fawn response . you know ... one of the four f's of Trauma Responses .
now knowing that aspect of her backstory it ... Sadly makes sense . did i see it coming ? yes . do i still find it sad how it puts so much of her behavior into perspective ? also yeah .
just taking notes from her present behavior and the tiny hints given of her home life , i imagine she grew up in an overly-controlling , repressive environment deprived of love and affection . the perfect incubation chamber for one , fully fucked-up child , basically . it's no wonder that ragatha's desperate for companionship and validation — because it's something that was never given to her all her life . there's a pit where a mother's love should've filled .
with no mention of her father or any other relative , it paints ... a very bleak and isolating picture . like , no wonder she misses her horses , i think the animals were the Only thing that brought her joy in that farm . either her dad is absent OR if we consider how traditionally feminine ragatha is ( being demure , modest and passive ) , it could be a conservative household that's patriarchal ... or maybe she's a child of divorce . idk which one i prefer lol .
either way , she Might've had ... Zero Support ! i can't believe we've gotten to a point that i could confidently say i was a lot Nicer to ragatha than gooseworx was . like the implications here are Not pretty . it could explain why she's desperately grasping for Any strand of companionship she could have in the circus .
obviously , fawning comes from appeasing to The Threat , and you can make an argument that by appeasing to a non-existent threat in the circus , she thinks she's avoiding The Scenario™ .
but something is telling me that she was taught all her life that love is to be Earned . that you have to Prove that you are worthy of being Loved . and of course , not being able to meet her mother's impossible expectations , she didn't really ... get it . and now being in an environment where there's people that actually Cares for her , she's Grasping . she's keeping them Pleased because It's All She Has . seeking warmth in a dwindling fire kind of thing .
BUT THAT'S JUST MY INTERPRETATION . i'm not really completely with it but ! it's what i came up with . whatever interpretation you can come up with , it adds a level of tragedy into ragatha's increasing distance from the others . her pleasing works for Avoiding Conflict , not for Creating A Deep Connection . which is why i like that one line where gangle thanks ragatha for teaching her softball . ragatha sharing her interest instead of giving empty praise made them bond , yay !
so yeah ragatha needs to be spoiled and pampered lovingly this post is already long enough i'm going to drink water
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what-username-where · 2 days ago
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I still have never started a relationship without being asked out BY someone, and then not believing them until they repeatedly tell me that yes they ARE actually serious
and then I spend the entire time thinking oh god oh fuck when is the other shoe gonna drop when are they gonna start laughing at me for being so gullible to believe they actually liked me and reveal this was all an elaborate prank the entire time or that they just found me useful enough to put up with and play along so I'd keep doing things for them
Which unfortunately the only people who ever asked me out were a pedo, an entitled manipulative self centered emotional abuser, and a wildly out of control mentally ill asshole
All of whom I got incredibly attached to and planned on marrying and building my entire life around because at least having someone to indulge my highly romantic sappy touchy self would be better than just yearning from the sidelines my whole life and watching other people get things I'd dreamed about being able to have but never thought would actually be possible for me
because there was something innately wrong with me that other people saw but I didn't and no matter how hard I tried I couldn't fix it or even identify the problem
so I had to give up everything I possibly could give in order to make myself worth putting up with for other people and if I didn't I would spend the rest of my life isolated and alone because no one would want to be around me unless I was of sufficient benefit and service to them
Needless to say none of my exes helped that feeling at all
I still struggle deeply with it and have slowly come to accept that my friends are here because they genuinely enjoy me
but I still have the intense problems around romance and romantic relationships and feeling like the only way I'll ever have something close to what I want is by doing it myself quite literally and relying on my system for it
which while being amazing and wonderful and I love my system so much it still has some things that are physically impossible to do and thus leaves me with a longing just the same, whether that's a longing for another body for them to inhabit or longing for another person to be romantically interested in me both of which feel equally impossible
because no other person could possibly want to be anything romantic with me without either not knowing what they're getting into and later wanting to back out or wanting to take advantage of me because they know I'll stick around serving them a feast if they toss a breadcrumb my way once in a while
Which no amount of logic and comforting and repeating positive phrases and reassuring myself "I don't need a romantic relationship to be fulfilled as a person and that's a really toxic attitude to have" has ever really made go away despite my best efforts and years of therapy both professional and self guided
Man if you did that bullshit as a kid where you fake asked someone out to embarrass them or said your friend liked them I hope that shit haunts you somewhere inside now. I hope you know that never leaves the person you did that too. I've been out of school for 8 blessed fucking years and I still do not believe people when they say they like me or are attracted to me. Doing that shit straight up makes you a bad person. You completely destroy someone's ability to perceive themselves as loveable.
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sparrows4bats · 1 day ago
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Inheritance AU
What if after Ras died, Damian accidentally inherited the League?
As in, he wakes up one day to an army of Assassins following him around like ducklings.
Damian didn't intend to become the Demons Head, not since he joined his father and embraced a life of heroism alongside his family.
His brief time at Lazarus Island and subsequent possession had only harden his resolve.
But the death of his grandfather and his reconciliation with his mother had made him start to reconsider how he is most useful to the world and the weight of the legacies he has carried since birth.
Damian grieves a lot of things. His grandfather and the relationship they could have had, Respawn, his biological brother and how he never got to know him properly, Alfred and how Damian caused the death of his greatest supporter and sometimes, on his worst night, he greives the child he never got to be.
But he's dealing with it.
Maybe.
It's sometimes hard to resist the urge to flee Gotham again and head back to the island where everything was simpler.
But his father and siblings keep a close eye on him now because apparently entering a death tornament was not an appropriate grieving process. Which he finds ironic coming from the people that became vigilantes because of their own experiences with death.
All of this is to say that Damian is back to living as normally as he can, with school and crimefighting, and so far, it has been uneventful.
Until he wakes up to find five Assassin's in his bedroom.
Damian prepares to fight for his life and grabs the sword that he keeps under his mattress and the dagger he keeps under his pillow, only for cloaked figures to kneel before him.
"We are here to pledge our loyalty, Demon Head."
That is not what he expected. At all.
"I am not the Demon Head."
"According to your grandfather, mother, and aunt, you are. The man that defeated the Lazarus demon and the true heir to the Al Ghul."
He was going to kill his mother. "I was disinheirited when I came to Gotham."
"Not officially, your grandfather even rewrote you into the line of succession before his death."
"My mother is much more suited to the role, would you really rather follow a vigilante?"
"The Demons Daughter has her own interests, the League of Assassins follows the Al Ghul, and you are the most worthy Al Ghul."
Damian doesn't know what to say to that. "I am no longer an assassin, I do not take lives anymore."
One of the dark figures moves forward. "We are aware sir, you need not sully your hands not when we shall do it for you!"
"No! No killing people for me!"
"But sir-"
"I said no."
"Is that an order sir?"
Damian groans and decides he can't deal with this. He goes to the Batcave, and the gaggle of Assassins follow him.
Batman is very confused by the deadly men that are in his home, following his youngest son like loyal puppies.
Unfortunately Father is not much help. The Assassin's claim they are the royal guard a d cannot leave Damians side. They are very polite and promise not to start trouble.
The bat doesn't trust them, but everytume they try to kick them out, they come back like a bad penny.
Damian gives up after the eighth attempt.
They try to get in touch with Talia only for her every contact to tell them she is on vacation and not to be disturbed.
Nyssa isn't any help either. She pledges her allegiance to Damian with a shit eating grin while handing him a stack of paperwork.
Apparently, the League of Assassins keeps a very detailed paper trail. Damian puts his business management and finance education to use very reluctantly.
Damian then tries to foist his new kingdom on his cousin Mara. She laughs in his face and gets the entire Demons Hands to give him oaths as well.
His family, apparently unaware of the fact Damian was a literal prince before coming to them, have a break down.
What do you mean the League is the size of a all country and you are it's leader?
No wonder Damian thought Bruce was poor when he first got to Gotham.
After a while, Damian starts to accept it, unfortunately. His guards never leave his side, even when he tries to ditch them. He still doesn't know where the tracker is.
When he is in school, they hang outside the windows or in the rafters. Damian has to actually behave so they don't attempt to murder his teachers for scolding him.
When he shops, they shadow him. They all get a taste for boba and Damianbuys them little treats on hard days.
Damian can't believe how often he has to stop them from killing people who attack him on patrol.
Dick and Bruce laugh at him and call it payback.
Damian has regrets. Many regrets.
Especially when Steph starts to befriend his guards.
Jon laughs at his predicament even as the Assassins try to assess his worth as their leaders partner.
Damian actually calls himself the Demon Head in order to get his guards to save a group of children.
And Damian has a realisation that maybe, just maybe, he could use the League as it was originally intended.
To Save the World and the Innocent.
And if his army of Assassins aren't happy, they should at least leave him alone.
Nyssa gathers paperwork and allies, and they slowly reform how the League operates.
They fund humanitarian missions, environmental research, and conservation.
They use centuries of Ras Al Ghuls medical research to create pharmaceuticals, surgeries, and treatments. They cure so many diseases and prevent others through free vaccination programmes.
Damian gets his mother to run that side of things while he earns his own medical degree as is family tradition.
Damian puts the League almost unlimited wealth to use lobbying for taxing co operations and creating accessible green energy.
He does alot of good and instead of the organisation crumbling under the changes he makes, it grows.
The Justice League signs an official alliance.
Damian earns undying love and loyalty from his grandfather's followers by doing good.
What he doesn't realise is that any that disagree or pose a threat to the new Demons Head are quietly taken care of.
Damian is slowly turned into a proper royal once Talia, Nyssa, and Mara force him into better clothing and jewellery befitting his status.
Jon chokes when he sees Damian dressed in Silk and gold for the first time.
Damians guard dogs eye him suspiciously, and Jon has to force himself not to touch his best friend.
He starts going on diplomatic mission and living in the public eye, much to everyone's fascination and his families distress.
When the topic of marriage comes up, Dick panics when he overhears Talia discussing an arranged marriage with Nyssa and suitable candidates.
In that panic, he talks to Jon Kent.
Jon knows Damian is for all intents and purposes a king, but it hadn't hit him what that means.
And if he was honest with himself, the idea of a snobby little royal marrying Damian felt like a stab to the heart.
So the Super flies to Damian to ask who he is marrying, much to his confusion.
Damian never agreed to an engagement. Couldn't have, he is already I love with the jealous fool in front of him.
When he tells Jon this, he doesn't expect to get kissed for his efforts or for his guards to stab Jon with Kryptonite.
They go through the official courting process after that. Talia insists upon it.
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buckybarnes82 · 3 days ago
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Saturdays.
Summary: You and Bucky are best friends who spend all of your Saturday’s together. Bucky came to your place with a goal in mind: making you admit your feelings for him.
Warnings: Alcohol/Drinking games/shots of Sake. You also might need to make an appointment with your dentist because the fluff in this could possibly give you cavities.
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The light knock on your door let you know Bucky had finally arrived. It was your typical Saturday evening hangout. Bucky would show up with alcohol of some kind because you frankly knew nothing about liquor, and you would either make or order the two of you food. You would likely watch a shitty movie that you’d pretty much talk over the whole time, and Bucky would look at you completely enamored by your beauty and nod during the important parts.
“Hey, you” his entire face lit up as you opened the door to greet him. His eyes quickly scanned your comfy outfit, loose leggings, a thin sweater detailed with lace, and fuzzy socks he had gotten you for Christmas last year. A light chuckle escaped him as he took you in.
Bucky was holding a giant brown bag full of alcohol, but you still eyed him up and down. He was always in the same variation of outfit: boots, tight jeans, a T-shirt, and a jacket of some sort. Today, he opted for a brown leather jacket that he definitely bought from a local vintage shop.
“Hi chicken!” You greeted him enthusiastically as you stepped aside for him to walk into your place. The smell of your sweet smelling perfume practically sucker punched him in the heightened senses, not that he was complaining.
“That damn nickname” he pretended to hate it, but he didn’t hide it well, the corner of his eyes wrinkling and the slight smirk he wore gave him away every time.
“You refuse to let me call you Buck Buck goose! So I compromised!” You snorted, trying to stand taller to peek inside the bag at what he brought.
“Ah! No! Not yet” he playfully slapped your hand away, lifting the bag higher above you so you couldn’t sneak a peek.
“What’s for dinner little one? It smells good!”
You were shorter than him, and Bucky always made it a habit to point it out. He knew it made you flustered, picking up on the way your heart loudly thumped quicker in your chest, he never told you he could hear it but he felt like somehow you knew.
“I made tacos! I figured you’d want your favorite after your long week! I barely heard from you so I know it was hectic.” You didn’t say it to make him feel guilty but it did, Bucky felt like you physically punched him in the gut. His expression changed as he set the brown paper bag down on your kitchen table.
“Did you miss me or something?” He teased, only slightly hoping you’d admit it for once. Instead, you handed him a plate to serve himself, giving him a playful forced smile and showing all your teeth.
Once the two of you got your dinner plates ready, Bucky brought the brown bag over to the couch. He had a mischievous grin that you were already slightly nervous about as you clicked through streaming services for something to put on as background noise.
“I got some of your usual favorites because I’m not completely insane” he chuckled as you watched him pull familiar things out of the bag and put them on the coffee table in front of you.
“Debatable” you teased nudging him with your elbow as he playfully scowled at you.
“I mean, I am willingly eating your cooking so that’s a fair assessment.” He was quick-witted, something you really admired about him.
“James Buchanan Barnes! Take that back!” You fauxed offense, metaphorically clutching your pearls as he chuckled and took two bottles of sake out of the bag.
“Full government name? Really? You know damn well I’d lick those pans clean in there if you left the room for long enough” he pointed to the kitchen and it made you giggle, your eyes hardly leaving him before you turned your attention back to the sake bottles.
“I’ve heard sake is really good but also really strong” You picked up the bottle to read it but it was in Japanese, so you put it back down.
“Scared huh?” Bucky blushed, knowing just how to push your buttons as you clicked your tongue at him.
“I was thinking we could play a drinking game tonight.”
You narrowed your eyes at him as you took another bite of your taco, “I’m listening?”
Bucky would’ve usually hated seeing anyone talk with their mouth full but you were an exception. “Truth or drink,” he said overly confident which surprised you, You instantly wondered where Bucky had even heard about this game.
“Yelena and Bob taught me about it. Basically if you don’t want to answer you drink instead.” It was as if he read your mind and was answering the question you didn’t ask aloud.
“Oh! It’s probably how Yelena gets Bob to loosen up” You giggled, standing to get you and Bucky a shot glass from your kitchen cabinet.
“You think so?” He avoided your eye contact, hoping you weren’t catching on. “I say we take one to loosen up and then go from there” he said and you nodded before he opened the pink bottle of sake first pouring the two of you a shot.
Bucky took his shot without so much of a grimace but you felt the burn intensify in your throat immediately and coughed once it went down and got yourself a chaser from the fridge, bringing Bucky one too.
“No question is off limits.” He narrowed his eyes at you, it was clear he suggested this for a reason but you were happy to oblige.
“I’ll go first then- why do you want to play this game?” You giggled, maintaining eye contact with him as you leaned back on the couch, sitting with your legs crossed.
A nervous laugh escaped him, as he sat back on the couch Bucky was usually pretty calm and collected around you but the way you were looking through him right now made him forget how to breathe.
“Drink up then Barney boy” You handed him a shot knowing he wouldn’t answer, as he quickly threw it back.
“Why don’t you ever admit that you miss me?” He wasn’t originally going to ask such an upfront question right away but he had a strong feeling you weren’t going to play fair.
You thought about answering for a brief moment before you drank, coughing again after you swallowed.
“So that’s how this is going to go?” He scooted closer to you, watching your eyes get watery.
“This sake is so strong and kind of nasty” you coughed wiping your mouth with your sweater sleeve.
“I guess we should start being honest then” he smiled and you rolled your eyes playfully gearing up for your next question.
“Okay when we first met, what was your first impression of me?”
Bucky looked up at the ceiling, chuckling to himself as he placed the shot glass down. “Honestly? I thought you were really soft and nice and I didn’t expect us to hit it off as well as we did.”
“Why?” You were curious as to why he mentioned the last part, you knew he didn’t think much of himself which hurt you deep down.
“Soft and nice is not how anyone would describe me” he laughed, a genuine laugh that made your couch tremble slightly.
“Maybe? But that’s because they don’t really know you” you nervously bit your cheek wondering if that was a tad too flirty.
Bucky had been your best friend for about a year now and you were terrified of losing him.
“Okay, how would you describe me? Especially to someone who has never met me.” He picked up the sake bottle ready to pour, and only assuming you’d avoid the question.
“No put that down, I’ll answer this one” You stood up from the couch, to face him as he stayed sitting, his blue eyes piercing through you.
“Close your eyes, or just don’t look at me!”
“Close my eyes?” He laughed in disbelief at your dramatics.
“Yeah, they’re just very beautiful and super distracting” you teased and Bucky knew you were a lightweight when it came to drinking but he started to feel guilty for suggesting the game wondering if you were only complimenting him because of the liquor.
“Wait, you think my eyes are beautiful?” He mumbled and you hadn’t heard him over the nerves you felt gripping every bone in your body.
“I’d ideally describe you as close to perfect but I know you’d absolutely hate that.”
You were right, he’d hate that.
“I’d say Bucky is the kind of person who makes every day seem a little less heavy and dull. He’s the guy everyone can always depend on and despite being through the worst hell anyone could ever fucking imagine he is still kind, giving, loving and the greatest person I’ve ever met.” Your lips started to tremble and your eyes were tightly closed as you stood in front of your coffee table swaying back and forth nervously.
“You’d say that about me? To a stranger?” He felt like his heart had grown three sizes in the last minute. He never knew you felt that way about him.
“Of course, I talk about you all the time actually” You didn’t know why you said it but it felt right although your cheeks grew warm with embarrassment.
“Y/N, Why haven’t we dated?” The words crawled out of his mouth like an ache he couldn’t stop.
Your eyes shot open and he was staring at you directly, You noticed his fingers twitching as they sat in his lap.
“It’s my turn to ask a question” you swallowed dryly, your throat felt sandy and hoarse suddenly. Bucky only nodded in response, wondering what you’d ask next.
“So, why haven’t we dated?” You repeated the question back at him, making the room feel more at ease.
“You’re the only person who makes me feel human and I was afraid that if I misread the signs that I’d make things weird between us and I didn’t want to lose you” he stood up, walking over to where you stood.
“You didn’t misread anything, there’s a reason I spend all my Saturdays with you. You’re the best part of my week, my day, my life actually.” You wrapped your arms around his torso, looking up at him with loving, pleading eyes.
“Is this really happening? How drunk are you?” He teased as he held you, but there was a faint seriousness to his tone now that you had opened the floodgates of emotions.
“I’m not drunk! I don’t even think I’m tipsy, I just took the opportunity while I had it.” You admitted which made him chuckle before he easily picked you up and wrapped your legs around him.
“Would it be alright if I kissed you now?”
“You can kiss me forever” you leaned in, wrapping your arms around his neck, rubbing your fingers through the hair on the nape of his neck.
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chrisfawns · 1 day ago
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the girlfriend effect. . .all the ways matt and chris change after getting a girlfriend
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꒰ ੭ ꒱ ᐣ matt. . .starts sleeping more 💌🍵🎀
it's a well-known fact that matt doesn't sleep at night. he sleeps the next day. it's not unusual for nick or chris to get up at 5 am to get water, only to see a sliver of light still coming from under matt's door. he's either on the computer, watching tv, or simply pacing, waiting until his body is so exhausted that he has no choice but to sleep.
after you, though? matt's in bed at a solid eleven pm. you're tucked safely into his side, head against his chest. he'll nuzzle his stubbly chin into your hair as you yap about your day until you fall asleep mid-sentence, following you into dreamland shortly after.
now, matt's up before the clock hits noon. his shoulders don't slump with exhaustion anymore; instead, he's awake, dressed, and looks more alive than he ever has. his eyes aren't plagued with dark bags anymore and he has energy now.
ଘ꒰ ꒱ chris. . .drinks more water 🏹🐇🪞
shocked was an understatement. the internet practically exploded the first time they saw it. chris' usual car video soda had been replaced by a bottle of water. in fact, it became such a regular occurrence that even nick and matt were shocked.
"what?" chris asks, looking up to see matt staring at him like he's got two heads.
"you're drinking water?" matt asks, staring at the new, blue stainless steel water bottle that's on the counter next to his brother.
"yeah?"
"since when?"
"since my girl said i had to." chris shrugs, going back to his phone.
before long, chris' water bottle is covered in stickers from places you and him have visited together, cartoon characters, and just about any other sticker you had. the bottle becomes such a regular part of car videos that even you can't resist cracking a joke or two in the comments about the "girlfriend effect".
᧔ ᧓ matt. . .takes an ego sick day 🍰🤍🍓
if you didn't know matt sturniolo, you'd think he was simply a shy, quiet guy. which he is, until you get to know him. then the retorts and self compliments spill out of him faster than a waterfall.
"what song would you want to be edited to?"
"hmm... p power, probably."
"who's the best looking?"
"me. though nick is a close second."
"kid, if you're gonna talk out of your fuckin' ass at least turn around so i can hear you better."
when you come into the picture, all that goes away. matt's flustered when you caress his jaw and tell him how handsome he is instead of spouting some nonsense like "thanks for telling me what i already knew."
his ears turn pink at the tips and a soft, slow giggle makes its way from his lips. when nick and chris tease him about it, the only thing he says is "god forbid a man gets a little shy around his girlfriend" rather than some reply about being sex on legs.
you like him this way. you softened him. it's nice to know that underneath the mattitude as his brothers call it, matt really is a big softie.
૮ ོ ོ𑁬 chris. . .changes his mindset 🪩🩰🕰️
chris sturniolo has never considered himself "famous", but there's a specific clip of him that circles the internet every few months that one could argue he's famous for.
"what's your biggest fear?"
"having a girlfriend."
you had to admit that when the video had first come across your tiktok during your early days of dating, you were a bit hesitant. would he really commit to you?
that video is specifically is why matt and nick are shocked when chris hands you a plate of food as you grin up at him, eyes crinkling. "thank you, baby." you hum, seemingly unaware of the eyes on you.
even just the pet name has his brothers staring between the two of you, waiting for chris to mumble some shit like "it's not a big deal. it's just food."
instead, chris kisses your forehead, before sitting down beside you. "you're welcome, my love."
nick practically chokes on a piece of pasta. in his entire almost-twenty two-years of life, he's never heard chris call anyone my love and mean it. you and chris seem oblivious to the obvious shock radiating around the deck outside of the boy's boston home.
you reach over and tuck a curl behind chris' ear, a soft, shy smile appearing on your boyfriend's face. again, there's no "stop" or "not now". this time, matt decides that he has to see if you've just changed chris or if an alien has replaced his younger brother.
"you've got sauce on your face, baby." he croons, using his thumb to wipe the side of his brother's face.
chris bats matt's hand away, glaring. "fuck off."
you giggle, watching the chaos before you. chris is glaring at matt like he wants to kill him and matt's just laughing.
"what happened to 'i'm scared of having a girlfriend'?" matt asks.
"times change," chris grumbles. "besides, my girl isn't a dickhead like you."
"you've done something to him." matt says, pointing his fork at you, but you see the smile on his face.
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© chrisfawns
𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬. ⋆˚꩜。: i love it when men change their whole personality after they've met their girl 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ interactions are appreciated but not expected!!
tags ⋆. 𐙚 ̊: @mattslilies @backwardshatnick @bernardsbendystraws @h3arts4nat @mattyblover07 @mattsstarlet
if you'd like to be added to my taglist, inbox me/dm me/comment!!
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onetwistedmiracle · 1 day ago
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Um, yes. Parents allowed their kids to roam freely in the 70's and 80's.
I'm a GenXer born in 1968. I had only one sibling and he is profoundly disabled with autism (basically non-verbal, has lived in a group home since he was 18) so he had a nanny starting when I was about 13 and after that I was more supervised than most of my peers. Nonetheless, ages 7 through 12 I could leave my home in the morning on a day when there was no school and not return until dinner. I had a watch from a very young age.
My parents told me not to leave the island (small residential island near Savannah, GA) and I obeyed them, but if I had disobeyed they wouldn't have known unless something had happened to me. They may or may not have had phone numbers for most of the houses I was likely to walk or bike to, but those were landlines, obviously, and only got answered when both possible and convenient.
These clips on youtube? Are not fake.
youtube
As I once said to a snarly Boomer when my own kids were still fairly small (I have 3 GenZ kids, now all in their 20s): "Nancy, when you were raising children, if something happened people would cry with you and bring you a casserole. Now if something happens, Mommy goes to jail."
Times have CHANGED.
And as @lightandwinged brings up, it is hardly true that children didn't get hurt back then. I was once sexually assaulted while walking home. A friend's little brother touched a spinning ... machine (I wish I could tell you what it was) installed in his backyard and lost the tips of three fingers. I have two friends my own age who grew up elsewhere in the USA who were both, separately, snatched up by a stranger and sexually assaulted.
I was myself once walking home (different story from the first sexual assault, sigh) and realized I was being followed by a car. I went to the first friend's house I could and called my mother to ask her to pick me up so I wouldn't have to risk whatever that driver might have had in mind. I felt lucky she was home to answer the phone.
Younger people will probably have difficulty believing this, but my mother refused to drive less than a mile to come get me, though I explained about the suspicious car. She told me I was making up a story so I wouldn't have to walk home. She called me lazy. She was not abusive. She was generally a good mother. But she was quite sure, on that occasion, that it was infinitely more likely that I was a lazy asshole than a child in any danger from a suspicious stranger.
Luckily my friends' parents were willing to let me hang out for a while, and by the time I felt safe to leave and try walking home again, the car was gone.
So it isn't that kids never got hurt back then. It isn't that kids never got deliberately targeted by bad people and therefore hurt, either. It's just that it was assumed "normal" and "ordinary" and even "correct" that children were given a great deal more freedom and autonomy.
I think it may well be because children are considered more "valuable" now, but in the way of gold or diamonds, unfortunately. Children are a valuable commodity. A valuable product. Not really so much in the way of "all human life is precious" and definitely not in the way of "every child needs every possible opportunity to grow into the most amazing adult they have the potential to become." If it were one of those we'd find ways to balance this equation. Because children do benefit from freedom and the ability to take some risks. They benefit quite a lot.
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This is a legitimate and damaging cultural shift for all involved parties and it needs to be addressed.
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kuidore · 2 days ago
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random ZoeYstery HCs 3 ✧ KPOP demon hunters ✧ Zoey x Mystery
✧ They’re the worst couple ever when it comes to PDA
✧ Once they’re together and he has her by his side almost all the time, Mystery is just. constantly touching her. mostly without even realizing it.
✧ His hand finds hers to link their hands or wrap his fingers around her wrist, he wraps his arm around her shoulders or her waist, he slouches and walks behind her with his chin resting on top of her head
✧ He doesn’t particularily care if it makes walking weird, as long as he’s holding her. She doesn’t seem to mind either.
✧ It feels natural, so he just does it. That was how he was accustomed to living beforehand. He’s still not used to having desires, let alone pushing them down
✧ Mystery would literally carry her everywhere if she would let him.
✧ If she ever mentions her feet hurt, or her legs are tired, or even asks how much longer they had to walk, he’s already crouched down on the ground and silently gesturing for her to get on his back before she even finishes her sentence
✧ He walks extra slow when he’s giving her a piggy back. Sometimes he even purposefully takes a wrong turn so they have to take a longer route
✧ On his back was like being in a car for Zoey. She barely paid attention to the surroundings, resting her chin on his shoulder and talking at him about whatever came to mind
✧ When she does realize it, she doesn’t particularily care. It just makes her squeeze him tighter and hide her face in his shoulder to try and keep her blush in check
✧ If Mystery isn’t carrying Zoey then he’s carrying her purse, her drink, her bag, whatever she has with her.
✧ He really wants to be helpful to her, the way she was always being with him
✧ She feels really guilty in the beginning for making him be her mule, carrying around her and her stuff. But every time she asked if he minded, he shook his head no without any hesitation
✧ She’s finally convinced that it’s fine when she looks over at Mystery’s face one day while on his back and caught him smiling with his teeth. It was the first time she was even seeing them.
✧ From then on she was more than happy to accept his offer or even purposefully complain about walking just so he’d do it even more
✧ If Zoey comes into a room when he’s doing something and has his back to her, she immediately thinks of ways to be a menace
✧ Among Zoey’s arsenal was; coming up and sticking a wet finger in his ear, tiptoe really close and try to scare him (which she keeps trying even though it never works), and breaking into a sprint to throw herself on his back
✧ Sure she could go up and hug him or give him a kiss, but she saved that for when he noticed her.
✧ Mystery could actually always hear her footsteps when she came into the room.
✧ Originally he always turned around, but as soon as he realized that she was attempting to sneak up on him, he started keeping his back to her and pretending he didn’t notice her presence
✧ Every single time she grins at him and smugly says that she ‘got him’
✧ Oh she’s got him alright. Got him wrapped around her finger, whipped, ready to kill or die for her. he was pretty sure she wouldn’t let him do that last one a second time, but he’s still willing and that’s what matters
✧ Yeah, she did in fact still date him even after telling him he was her type and then slitting his throat and sending him back to hell (briefly). Don’t worry about it. He thought it was hot.
✧ He physically cannot stop himself from glaring at anyone who looks at Zoey for too long or gets in her personal space. For the latter, if they weren’t in an excessively public place, he’d still bark
✧ Mystery’s jealousy is much more about being the direct object of Zoey’s attention at a given moment, rather than some sort of fear of her leaving him for someone else or being ‘taken’
✧ He wants her to always be looking at him, paying attention to him, noticing him. The way he always was doing the same with her.
✧ It takes a lot of time for him to understand the way she expresses herself and her emotions, but Zoey is patient and happy to explain it to someone so eager to actually listen
✧ One day it’s like it clicks, when she points in a store window bouncing with excitement at a dessert he knew full well she hated and he loved
✧ He passes the entire night just looking back through their memories together, picking out what had initially seemed like minor moments and finding traces of Zoey’s adoration around every corner
✧ She wakes up to him staring at her intently. She jumps a bit and almost falls out of bed, he manages to hold her tight enough to stop her
✧ He didn’t even wish her good morning, didn’t even give her the time to wake up properly. The first words out of his mouth once he was sure she was conscious enough to be aware of him were “I love you”
✧ She can’t stop herself from burying her face in a pillow and kicking her feet, muffled giggles making her shoulders shake
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