#So this is all you're getting of them (FOR NOW)

[vampmira]

open up what you got in your mind to me. [pt.2 – saja boys.]

they've never met someone like you — a mortal who almost knew them .. better than they knew themselves. for the boys, it's annoyingly intriguing. for the girls, it's comforting.

paring(s): huntrix & saja boys x demon expert!gn!reader

warning(s:) EVERYTHING IN HERE IS A PART TWO TO THIS !! some movie changes, probably effected lore that makes no sense for the sake of the narrative, a little angst at the beginning

request | tags: @blueberrysquire @akariis4snowball @j0ykill

a/n: this is part 2 !! i had sooo many ideas for huntrix that i had to make another part for the saja boys so that it wasn't so long . this part isn't as good but i liked it so ☆☆☆

that night huntrix defeated gwima was a blur. all you remember was the zombie mob of fans, half of the fight, and the use of your aura vision to raise the saja boys above the honmoon before it glimmered in gold. jinu, who gave his newly found soul for rumi, was practically reincarnated through her sword – standing in front of her post-concert, arms open for her to fall into with tears from the both of them. everyone else? well, they felt lost.

the saja boys weren't sure what to do anymore. jinu was overjoyed, of course, but the boys knew nothing more beyond gwima and their mission. they didn't care much about music, nor their fans – which huntrix still couldn't wrap their minds around – and it's not like they had secret human hobbies. they never had time for that. until now.

post-gwima, they stayed in an apartment near the huntrix penthouse, trying to figure out their new lives. for the most part, they spent most of their time under your watch – to make sure they didn't go cause chaos – but also .. under your study.

you were weird to them

they weren't used to someone other than them.. knowing them

their capabilities, their knowledge, their origins.

actually jinu found your extensive understanding of what he is to be kind of comforting

he noticed how you never really drooled over them

you'd stare, sure, but in the same way an art critic would stare at a painted blue canvas with a smeared red dot in the middle

he felt like that red dot – unexplained but you somehow understood

when he told you about his past, it was a lot for him – talking about his cruel choice

but you.. didn't judge him.

in fact, you wrote it down in your notebook immediately, the one you never let the boys get too close to

he accepted you into his life when he entertained your interest in his history

unlike him, however, the other boys were uninterested

at first anyway

thank jinu for getting them to talk to you btw

it took a little bit of convincing – telling them that you wanted to give them something more than just gwima

even though they didn't want it ...

REGARDLESS they hang out around the penthouse

because they're no longer saja boys (uninterested and unsupported by any demon staff anymore)

they really had nothing to do but mildly annoy your personal space

including being the center of your attention when the girls are out

mira gave you one rule, "living room and bathroom. only." and you've succeeded so far. abby and romance were talking by the large scale windows, mystery was playing some game with baby (and obviously winning), and jinu sat in the middle of the couch, watching whatever movie rumi put on for him. you sat beside him, sketching in your one and only personal researcher book. your pencil drew out what you felt like was the final line in mystery's hair ... before you huffed, erasing it, and trying again.

that was... until the littlest demon startled you.

"mystery, they're drawing you." bored of his game, baby peered over your shoulder, only passively curious and really wanting to mess with you. heads turned at your exposure to the room, especially jinu, who looked over your other shoulder at the sketch you did of him earlier.

"you're.. sketching us?" the direct ask made you a bit nervous, especially being under so many eyes. (kind of. mystery was more just.. generally facing your direction.) "'weakness.. chest?' are you taking notes on us?" you stood up, nearly defensive, turning around to face the couch trio.

"if it weren't for your old friends, i wouldn't have to write it all down again." the boys went quiet, remembering the origin of your knowledge and powers. "i'm just.. tired of keeping it all inside. i need to get it out somewhere."

romance, true to his name, leaned over your shoulder, putting you both in a proximity much closer than you've ever had to experience before.

"then why don't we do something.. a little more fun .. to help you get it all out?"

normally sentences like that from him sound way more suggestive than he means them to be

but this time he came up with an actual solution to release your closed up, ready-to-pop-out-of-your-skin knowledge

they gave you a one way trip to infodump station ! an interview !

they wanted to learn more about you anyways

their fellow demons down below were the ones to wipe out your ancestors

not them

and they make sure you know it too

but they can't help but feel .. a little, tiny bit bad that you're now just a living library

a time capsule, holding onto so much information that you're about to burst 24/7

they had never met a researcher honestly

you intrigued them as much as they did for you

how much did you really know ?? did you know anything or is all this antsy behavior a ploy to make it look like you knew everything when you really knew nothing ??

their disguises were perfectly created to make every little fan fall for their attractiveness the second they looked at the boys

but you never drooled at them or had your eyes pop out of your head

you just always... stared. processing. tracing mindfully.

they didn't know what you were really abut. but they were about to find out. and really test your persona.

romance sat relaced in a chair as you circled him, pencil taking note of everything you noticed. how his markings were sharp, not rounded like rivers, how his skin was cooled, not burning hot. all things you already knew, but you found small comfort in knowing not much changed. you took a deep breath around his hair, nose scrunching up. he smiled, taking your cheek in his hand.

"new cologne." his voice was smooth, gentle. traditionally alluring. "just for you. do you like it?" he turned up his flirtatiousness, pulling you in closely, testing the waters of your focus.. before you turned away to start writing, completely uneffected.

"so many generations and you guys still smell like flames.." you mumbled to yourself.

"would you rather we smell like bubblegum?" baby tried to sass you, but you were too focused on the sharpness of his teeth to care. you stepped towards him, eyes widened.

"can demons still tear apart brick with the force of their canines?" you asked, rather close to his face. for a moment, he almost felt like the flustered one.

"yes..? no? i-i don't know." he crossed his arms, childishly. "i don't go around biting bricks." you jot it down still as you move towards abby. he's deeply relaxed, leaning back on the couch, comfortable shirt riding up to expose his famously toned abs. your eyes trail off of your notebook and they think.. they've got you.

"like what you see?" he teases. "you can touch them, you know." a bold move that brings you closer, nails tracing his skin. they're almost disappointed that abby is the one who stole your attention.. before they realize you're attention isn't stolen at all. you're drawing his markings with careful detail.

"where did yours come from? rumi's started forming on her arm when she was a kid, but they haven't reached her stomach yet. they grow with time, right? how old would that make you then..?" you dissolve into mutters they can barely decipher. "oh!! mystery!" he almost jumps behind the couch when you race over to him, making jinu laugh from the sidelines of their attempts to flirt with you. "i've never seen a demon sparkle! that's new.. is that just you? or is there a whole subspecies of sparkling demons? or is it your human disguise..?" your questions nearly overwhelm him, enough to make him forget how he's supposed to flirt with you, but romance pulls you away, whispering in your ear.

"it's not just him." he smiles, hand on your shoulder. "you're sparkling, too, sweetheart." if anyone could fluster anyone, it'd be him, even if it takes two rounds. his thumb runs against your chin. "you look so cute in this lighting, like a rose."

"speaking of which, what's the flora like down there? are there any? do they eat demons or are they like.. regular flowers? we knew more of demons than of gwima's realm. did they smell? i bet they might have.. would it be nostalgic or torturing?"

the boys share a look, and sigh. you went off into high speed muttering again.

you really were everything you said

uninterested in their flirts and more in knowledge

that almost made them like you more..

in the following times after the interview, they greeted you a bit more casually – sometimes cheerfully, asking if you had any new drawings or trivia you wanted to get off your chest

how did you . tame them !? does the whole hard to get thing actually work !?

it confused the girls wildly

but to see them adjusting to being here through someone who actually understood them instead of lying around, empty and lost, was a pick-me-up in the mornings

one morning, after being delivered a coffee, handsigned by the boys, you felt something click in your head, a sensation you had never felt before, and reached to put it in your notebook immediately

"demons, when properly befriended, like to be understood. they brought me coffee. do demons like coffee??"

[suiana]

Crybaby! boyfriend who can't get it up for anyone else and cries when he puts it in you. He just can't help it, okay? Not when you feel so good!

"I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry-"

"What are you saying sorry for? Just fuck me damn."

"You just feel so- ngh... Good..."

"𝓘'𝓶 𝓰𝓮𝓽𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓹𝓻𝓮𝓰𝓷𝓪𝓷𝓽."

You're not sure whether or not to laugh or get him pregnant. Both? Yeah, both.

Oh yeah, he also used to think he had erectile dysfunction before meeting you. Can you imagine him? Looking at all types of porn but not able to get it up at all. But just one glance from you?

Yep, he's busting all over.

"I love you babe."

"Hn... Snh..."

"Are you... Crying right now???"

"I'm sorry, schk... You're just so amazing... I love you too babe..."

Don't get me started on the compliments. You just KNOW that he's a sucker for them. No, you KNOW. It's happened a lot of times before and You're sure it's not gonna be the end of it. You're pretty sure that he didn't get attention as a kid and that's why he crumbles completely at a simple praise.

"You actually got up and cleaned your room, I'm proud of you."

"You're... Proud of me?"

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

"Oh... Hng..."

"Did you seriously just cum in your pants?"

But what can you say? He's your sweet crybaby boyfriend that crumbles at every shred of affection. Imagine him being all stoic and nonchalant?

Ew.

You'd rather die. Those big watery eyes of his the way he feels his emotions so deeply... What isn't there to love? So what if he cums prematurely? What if he's horny 24/7? You love him and he loves you. That's all that matters. Plus, there's a reason why he was put on this planet.

To get pregnant of course! And you'll be impregnating that man. Obviously.

And you wouldn't have it any other way.

[yuramour]

I THINK HE KNOWS — F1 GRID

synopsis. trying to keep your crush on a certain driver a secret isn't exactly easy. but do they know about it, or not? pairing. f1 grid x reader (ft. mv1, yt22, ln4, op81, gr63, cl16, lh44, dr3, aa23, cs55, ih6, jd7, eo31, ka12, ob87) genre. fluff, headcanons warnings. mild secondhand embarrassment, maybe some suggestive themes, mostly coworker!reader, some of these are noticeably longer than others. my bad word count. 3k-ish (200-ish each)

note. this slowly devolves into silliness. alsoooooo, im tryna have a more consistent upload schedule, but i did just get a job and im taking online classes over the summer, so like, its hard to find the time to actually sit down and write. i'm trying, tho!! hope you guys enjoy this one :p

MAX VERSTAPPEN

۶ৎ completely oblivious

of course, it was glaringly obvious to everyone but max. everyone else saw the way you immediately stopped whatever you were working on to stare at him whenever he wandered into the red bull garage. ever since you started working for red bull as an analyst, you had the biggest crush on max. at first, it was just a harmless thing, blushing whenever he was in your general vicinity, your coworkers giggling and elbowing you whenever he walked into the room. the teasing from your coworkers was really the most annoying part at first. but now? the most annoying part by far was how max was just apparently totally oblivious to the fact that you liked him. you weren't even keeping it a secret anymore like you were at the beginning. you'd all but asked him out at this point. but he had absolutely no idea. it wasn't until charles teased him about how you stared at him during the driver's parade that max realized. it took him aback at first, but trust he'd never felt more dumb than when he realized you were in fact hitting on him all that time. asks you out the next time he sees you.

YUKI TSUNODA

۶ৎ has a suspicion

he could be wrong- maybe. but for the past several months, yuki's had a feeling that all those times you've brushed against him in the hallway, stared just a little too long during team debriefs, and laughed a little too hard at his jokes meant you saw him as a little more than just a coworker. it's hard for him to keep to himself- you haven't actually said anything that would indicate that you like him, so he doesn't want to bring it up. which sucks for him, because he really likes you, too. the way your hand feels on him when you pat him on the back after a race, the way your voice sounds when wishing him luck, the way your eyes soften when they meet his- it gives him butterflies. but he doesn't want to tell you. maybe he's just scared of rejection- because what if he's wrong? what if you don't actually like him? you have to be the one to tell him first. his imposter syndrome refuses to let him make the first move. he's elated when you do- a grin breaking over his face, a soft "i knew it" slipping from his lips.

LANDO NORRIS

۶ৎ thinks you hate him

maybe it's just the way you show affection- but lando thinks you can be a little...mean. not just a little mean- really mean. lando genuinely thinks you hate his guts. the way you refuse to make eye contact with him, the way you practically flee the room whenever he enters- he's convinced you have something against him. lando's a sensitive soul, he can take things a little personally. and you're perfectly content letting lando think you hate him if it means he never finds out ab out your stupid little crush. on another note, lando's absolutely flabbergasted when oscar makes a passing comment about your little crush on him- leaving both of them confused; lando because he was convinced you hated him, and oscar because he thought your crush was so blatant. oscar was right, of course. you just have a rather elementary way of navigating your crushes on people. lando practically corners you about it the next day, your violent blush and stuttering at the sudden confrontation telling him all he needed to know. he asks you out properly and nicely after that.

OSCAR PIASTRI

۶ৎ he knows but you have no idea he knows

oscar clocked your crush immediately. he's an observant guy. but he's so incredibly normal about it. you have absolutely no idea that he knows. the thing is, he thinks he's being obvious about liking you back. he'll open doors for you, give you his coat when you're cold, open energy drink cans for you, and he thinks it's incredibly obvious. the problem? you just think he's the kind of guy that'd do all that stuff anyway. because he's just so relaxed with it. it goes on for MONTHS. you both thinking you're being plainly obvious about your feelings for each other, and oscar just simply not wanting to be the one to make the first move. lando eventually knocks some sense into him- telling him to just ask you out because you're obviously not going to be the one to initiate it. as soon as he does, you're taken aback- not having expected oscar to be into you, too. but of course he was. how could he not be?

CHARLES LECLERC

۶ৎ thinks its all platonic

charles thinks that you're just a good friend- his best friend. doing things that all best friends do. of course a best friend would drop everything because he asked you to go out and do something. of course a best friend would go out of their way to come to all his races. of course best friends hug each other for extended periods of time after a bad race. he thinks you're just his best friend. because none of his other friends really do things like that- you must just be that good of a friend! right? no. of course not. you are head over heels in love with charles and you always have been. and he's never noticed. to be fair, you didn't exactly want him to. you were scared of the rejection you'd face if he ever found out. he's the charles leclerc. why would he go for you? even if you were his best friend. funny enough, it's his mother that ends up spilling your secret. charles thinks she's just joking at first, but once he realizes she's not, he's absolutely mortified. not only because he never realized it, but because he's felt the same about you for years, thinking you only saw his as a friend. calls you over immediately and confesses everything.

LEWIS HAMILTON

۶ৎ he knows, but doesn't say a word

lewis, ever the gentleman, notices your crush immediately, but chooses to keep it a secret. because you obviously don't want him to know about it, otherwise, you wouldn't be keeping it a secret. he thinks its charming more than anything. completely endeared by the way you immediately blush and look away whenever he makes eye contact, scurrying away like a little mouse whenever he ever so politely asks you to do even the most miniscule task. he didn't have any feelings for you at first- but the more time he spends observing you, the way you interact with others, your kindness, your individuality, he falls for you slowly but surely. you know lewis is a good man, so when he asks you to go to dinner with him, you think it's just to show his thanks to you for being such a hard worker. when he tells you how he feels about you, you feel like you're about to melt out of sheer embarrassment. lewis watches the blush take over your face with a soft laugh, your reaction reminding lewis exactly why he liked you in the first place.

GEORGE RUSSELL

۶ৎ thinks it's just a joke

even if you are so completely blatantly obvious about having a crush on george, he just thinks you're kidding. any time you openly flirt with him, he just laughs along and takes it as a joke. it gets to a point where you're all but telling him to his face that you're in love with him, and he's just like "haha, good one!" straight up, for a man that's so in love with himself, you think he'd be able to take a hint. but no. he's blind to the truth. and he's like this for MONTHS. you are LAYING IT ON, and he just does not understand that you are being 100% for real. only gets it when you literally corner him and tell him blatantly to his face that you are genuinely actually into him. he's both flabbergasted and overjoyed bc this rich boy gets zero play.

KIMI ANTONELLI

۶ৎ he has NO idea

silly silly boy. despite the fact that you've followed him around the world since you were kids, been by his side the entire time, through his best and worst days. he just doesn't see it. and you'd never tell him, of course. you value your friendship too much to ruin it over a stupid little (not little at all) crush. but still. who tf basically puts their entire life on hold to follow their best friend around the world? either someone who's in love, or someone who's just that good of a friend. in your case, it's the former. but unfortunately, kimi thinks you're the latter. he doesn't even realize he's in love with you until he's talking about you to ollie one day, just absolutely gushing about you and ollie's just listening like "...😐 you're stupid." after kimi realizes how he feels, he tries to keep it to himself, but accidentally lets it slip out one day while talking to you. to his ABSOLUTE SHOCK (idk how it was a shock he's lowkey blind), you feel the same about him.

ALEX ALBON

۶ৎ he knows & is very obvious about it

he KNOWSSSS. AND YOU KNOW HE KNOWSSSSS. unfortunately, as an employee for Williams, you know that dating a driver is looked down upon at the VERY LEAST. so despite the fact that you keep it as professional as possible, any and every time you so much as make eye contact with alex, this mf giggles. like, actually giggles. like a middle schooler. you don't even really know how he knows. but you suspect that carlos told him after you let it slip to him one day that you thought alex was cute. but nevertheless, you never let your interactions go beyond relaying basic information and wishing him luck before a race. but one weekend, you and alex end up with you hotel rooms booked right next to each other, somehow leading to alex basically living in your room all weekend. after that, it's all longing stares across the garage and holding hands in secret.

CARLOS SAINZ

۶ৎ totally blind to it

i think he just likes to think that you're a very kind and respectful person. like, he says jump and you ask how high, type shit. despite the fact that you try to keep it a secret at first, you realize that he is truly never going to get it unless you start like, actually putting the moves on this man. he thinks you're just a really nice person until one day it just slaps him in the face that you're literally obsessed with him, and he just feels SO stupid bc of it. like, you are all but offering to literally become his personal maid and he hasn't realized until now??? not very smooth operator of him. when he suddenly starts flirting back to you, you realize the vibe switchup IMMEDIATELY and you know he's clocked you</3 he asks you out on a casual coffee date at a cute quiet little cafe and it's very sweet and fluffy and eughhhh i hate (love) him so much.

ISACK HADJAR

۶ৎ again, thinks you hate him

poor baby thinks you getting red in the face and cutting the conversation off early whenever he tries to talk to you is indicative of you hating him and not of you getting flustered by his mere presence. he's pacing back and forth wondering what he could have possibly done to make you hate him, meanwhile you're in the other room pacing back and forth wondering how the hell you're ever going to be able to tell him you're basically in love with him. isack eventually decides to just be as nice as possible; getting you coffee, doing his best to make your job easier for you, complimenting you whenever he notices you've done your hair differently or whatever. unfortunately, this may or may not make things worse bc you have no idea how to take a compliment and just mumble a "thanks" and immediately leave the room whenever he does so. eventually, one of your coworkers talks some sense into you and convinces you to tell isack how you feel. shocked and elated don't even come close to describing how isack feels when you finally confess to him. relationship immediately starts from there, and he's basically obsessed with you and giving you allllll the words of affirmation.

JACK DOOHAN

۶ৎ thinks its just "bestie vibes"

again. stupid boy. stupid dumb boy. let me set the scene; you and jack have in fact been best friends for as long as you can remember. you weren't even into him at first, but after not seeing him for a while, and all of a sudden, he comes back as an accomplished formula driver, not to mention he's like, half a foot taller and significantly more ripped than he was the last time you saw him, something definitely changed in the way you looked at him. but of course sweet oblivious jack is just happy to hang out with his best friend again after so long. the two of you take a trip to the beach not too long after he gets back, and you have to physically stop yourself from staring at his abs for too long. ofc he just thinks you're looking at him so longingly bc you missed your best friend (him) so bad. that same night, the two of you get a little drunk and you accidentally call him hot to his face. oops! he thought about it for a solid ten seconds before he realized that he, in the back of his mind, thought the same about you. i just love this himbo so bad okay :(

OLLIE BEARMAN

۶ৎ he WANTS you to, but has no idea

to ollie, you were just so fucking cool. always so poised, level-headed, always cool under pressure. and he was absolutely head-over-heels for you. he practically followed you around like a lost puppy everywhere you went. not just because he's always getting lost at social events, but because he wanted to be near you as much as he physically could. to ollie, you were totally and completely out of his league. he wanted so badly for you to notice him as more than the guy that you were getting paid to basically babysit and make sure he doesn't say anything stupid to the media. little did he know, you'd been charmed by his cute smile, sweet demeanor, and puppy-like tendencies since the day you met him. he thinks he's seeing things when he starts noticing the blush that creeps up on your cheeks whenever he says something sweet. "wishful thinking" he tells himself. he swears he's dreaming when you knock on his hotel room one night and say that you have a secret to tell him. and he practically dies from happiness when he wakes up the next morning with a text from you confirming that you meant it when you told him you liked him.

ESTEBAN OCON

۶ৎ he's SUSPICIOUS of you

what do you want from him?? why are you so nice to him? what are you planning?? are you, the sweet alpine employee that says hi to him every morning in the paddock with that cute little smile spying on haas for your team??? he notices the way you come to the haas mobile home to "visit your friend" that works for the team. every time you wish him luck on the race in passing, he narrows his eyes and nods curtly, suspicious of the way you always happen to bump into him. little does he know, he keeps seeing you around because you have the biggest crush on him. you're close with a couple of the guys on the haas pit crew, and they've been trying for months to get esteban to notice you. which he has. just not in the way that you hoped. it all comes to a head when esteban relays his suspicion to your friends on the haas team, all of whom are absolutely flabbergasted that that's the conclusion he came to. they couldn't possibly let him go on thinking that. esteban is completely floored when they tell him you're always hanging around not because you're spying for alpine, but because you have a crush on him. immediately pulls you aside the next time he sees you and apologizes for being so unwelcoming towards you. he takes you out for an apologetic dinner, and realizes you're actually really great :p

DANIEL RICCIARDO

۶ৎ he knows and you know he knows

not only does he very obviously know, he teases you about it. you're too stubborn to give him the satisfaction of telling him flat-out how you feel. that's exactly what he wants. so you let him tease you, taking the shit-eating grins, flirtatious jokes, and the way he gets just a little too close for comfort in stride. you absolutely refuse to give him any kind of confirmation when he leans in, going "come on, i know you like me a little bit." it gets to a point where he's gotten on your nerves so much, you're not even sure if you even like him anymore or if you're just so stubborn, you can't even admit it to yourself anymore. it goes on for literal years. you think it's finally over when daniel leaves red bull. finally, you can let go of your stupid crush and live the rest of your life in peace knowing you won't have to deal with the australian ever again. but no. of course not. despite the fact that he was now in renault, he would come sidling up to the red bull mobile home just to flash you that shit-eating grin with a painfully flirty "how you doing?" all that time while he was in red bull, the possibility that he liked you back hadn't even crossed your mind. you thought he was just kind of a dick, teasing you for being into him. turns out, he was just waiting for the moment you weren't working for the same team so he could ask you out properly. "surprised" doesn't even begin to cover how you were feeling after he told you after the 2019 season was over.

taglist: @bear-yawns @revelauver

[yunalinwrites]

one of my fav kdramas (called youre beautiful) is abt a girl joining a boy band and pretending to be a boy ohshc style except her fellow members dont know and she has to somehow live with them while hiding it 😭 it's so wattpad i love

so imagine being fem!reader sharing a dorm with the saja boys while trying not to get found out

of course u cant hide forever tho so this is how i think you'd get found out and how they'd react:

❓ mystery knew from the start. you didnt realize he was scrutinizing you so closely bc of them fuck ass bangs but from the day you met he could tell just by looking at you. but, much like he does about everything, he kept quiet because he didnt want to freak you out. he found it cute though, every time you'd slip up and get all flustered trying to cover up why you were staring at the dresses at the mall or why you were caught buying pads. so, he'd just smile, pat your head, and calmly help you make excuses. if you walk into the wrong room at the wrong time he'll quietly direct you to a gender neutral bathroom or drape a towel over your eyes whenever the guys got too... carefree in the locker room. lowk helps you hide it from the other members bc he likes it being his little secret

🍼 baby also found out pretty early but also like not really? he walked in on you in the bathroom once and was like "mb" and then he thought about it and was like "wait a sec..." but then he just shrugged it off. and since then for a while in the back of his head he would catch the way you walk or the way you sit or the way your eyelashes look against your cheek and for a split second would think like "is he a chick?" but he never really came to a conclusion bc he just dont gaf. dude or not he treats you pretty much the same. once everyone else starts figuring it out tho thats when he starts acknowledging it. now that everyone else seems to treat you differently as a girl, he starts questioning how to feel or act around you...

💪 abby started rough housing with the other boys and tried to pull you in. lifted you up and not only were you lighter than he expected, your bodies were right up against each other. you did your best to bind your tits down but when you were chest to chest like this it was still noticeable. he awkwardly puts you down and scratches the back of his neck, mumbling an apology. for the next few days his brain is fried thinking about it. he never verbally acknowledges it but he starts being super gentle around you and treating you like you're fragile. feels the need to protect you physically, even if its against the other boys. always keeping watch to make sure they're gentle with you as well.

✨ jinu overhears you out yourself on the phone somehow and is so mad and so flustered at the same time. he's afraid you're going to be a liability if the fans find out and its gonna be a pain to hide but behind all that anger he's just scared of women fr. blushes every time he remembers you're a girl. every time you end up together alone in the living room or catch each other in the hallway, brushing each others shoulders in the slightest, he turns bright red and freaks tf out. somehow though he finds it easier to connect with you emotionally as a girl. with other guys it sometimes feels weird to be vulnerable, but you don't seem to have that shame at all. he admires it. gwi ma probably forced you into this situation so he empathizes with you.

🫶 romance liked to ask you all the time about your love life. asking what your type is, ideal date, dream wedding, do you want kids, etc. you figured it would be safest to just pretend you were a straight dude who liked girls. he wouldnt have cared though. he was starting to feel a little something for you even before you revealed yourself as a girl but refrained from going down that route to stay professional. but when you do reveal yourself as a girl it starts to get even harder to keep that boundary.

🥤 overall once they figure it out none of them tell each other or really say it aloud bc of the implications it has. but they all show it through actions like making sure you're fed and hydrated, letting you use the shower first, asking you if you need a break during rehearsal, etc. but trust, once they all start offering to help you at the same time--like all of them reaching to lend you their marker during fan signings when yours goes dry or surrounding you with 5 different choices of hoodie when you mention you're cold--they start getting real jealous and possessive real soon; they all want to be the one and only you rely on.

eventually though when they all reveal that they all know and everyone's on the same page, they start working together to protect you. all 5 of them wrapped around ur finger 😋 but still fighting for your attention

a/n: ugh i wish i had time/energy to do this properly along w all my other fics for kpdh (this movie has taken over my life) but idk i prob wont LOLL if anyone else wants to build off of this plz go ahead and tag me

UPDATE !!! PROLOGUE OUT NOW 🤑

also masterlist

[vasito-de-leche]

I love, LOVE your characterization of the Saja Boys, and while I know you’ve only written complete dating hcs for Baby and Abs, I was hoping if it was okay if I could request something with the Saja Boys (separately) where it follows the prompt “you're about to argue but you're so pretty that his brain short circuits”? If you don’t want to write for all of them, then maybe you could do Baby and Abs (separately)?

;KPOP DEMON HUNTERS SAJA BOYS - "Too Pretty"

Saja Boys (separate) x Reader 2.5k words silly, fluff Being a demon's soft spot has its benefits. Who would've thought?

i'm so glad you like the way I write them!! this prompt sounded so fun, I just had to try my hand at it, thank you!

this also served as a way for me to slowly figure out how I'd like to characterize the other members o7 I tried to keep the relationship vague enough to be read as whatever people want, so hope that comes across well enough. also also, dont let these dramatic edgy idols fool you, all drabbles end up being silly and cute

JINU

"Are you even listening, Jinu?"

He is, of course. But he'd rather not, especially when you're getting worked up over nothing; so much for escaping an endless cycle of torture in the underworld, he now has to deal with a brand new mess, pacing behind him like a madman. By now, you've probably noticed the monotonous and non-committal answers he's been giving on loop.

"Uh-huh," Jinu's eyes never stray from the notebook in front of him, attempting to come up with a better verse for an upcoming song. And he knows he's fucked up when he hears you groan, stomping towards him.

"Okay, okay. Maybe I stopped listening abooout ... five or ten minutes ago, who's counting, but--"

Your hand comes into view, fast as lighting, and he can only look as you snatch the notebook away from him. Great, awesome.

There goes the perfect verse in his head. He remains frozen for a moment, the hand holding a pen still hovering over the now empty spot on his desk until your voice reaches him once more.

"If you're not going to listen, at least tell me so I don't waste my time talking to you."

Jinu slouches in his seat, raising both hands to cover his face, before sliding them upwards to slick back his hair in a feeble attempt at regaining his composure. You can't even see him from this angle, his back turned to you, but he still rolls his eyes.

You want to argue? Get it out of your system? Fine, he can give you the fight you want.

In one swift motion, his position changes; now he's straddling the chair, a powerplay he's come to master after bickering with his own band for so long, eyes closed as he prepares to deliver a devastating comeback to rile you up. But when he looks up, the golden glow in his eyes wavers--you're standing so close in front of him, looking down at his seated form with your arms crossed, as if daring him to speak.

He doesn't, and you tilt forwards, hair cascading over him so that the only thing he can focus is your face in this one-sided glaring contest.

Jinu has seen you at your best and your worst, but this is the first time he's found himself at the other end of your undivided attention and anger. It is as intimidating as it is alluring. What are you doing to him? Is this allowed? His neck feels hot, his face feels hot. The room feels like it's on fire, but not the same type of hellfire he's grown used to; it's a different sort of warmth, equal parts shame and pleasure as he takes in the sight. His lips part without him noticing, whispering ever so gently.

"Pretty ..."

"What was that?" Fuckfuckfuckfuck.

"Shitty. I said you look. Shitty. As in, you look like shit. Being angry isn't doing you any favors, you know? You should get some rest, okay. Byeee."

Without giving you any time to react, Jinu fumbles over his words, trips over your furniture and he stumbles out of your apartment in a rush, almost breaking into a sprint for the elevator. It's only when the doors close that he allows himself to breathe in and out, finally noticing the extra passenger inside with him. His bird companion chirps smugly, and Jinu groans into his palms.

"I don't want to talk about it."

ROMANCE

"I didn't mean it like that!"

Romance scoffs at your words, still refusing to leave his room. All the heart shaped decorations seem to mock him as he leans his full weight against the door, easily preventing you from entering no matter how hard you try to rattle the doorknob.

Both of you find yourself at the edge of an argument, and the decision to escalate things lies solely on his hands. He knows this because he can practically hear the affection in your words, even as you whine and tell him to get over himself to talk to you, face to face. That alone is enough to make Romance's chest tighten--no matter how many times he does this, this game of push and pull, you still make sure to chase after him time and time again.

Surely you must be reaching your breaking point; nobody is strong enough to withstand this much heartbreak. Maybe if he tries a little harder, you'll realize that there's nothing good in a future with him.

All he has to do is stay silent and wait for you to leave.

"Then what did you mean?" His voice is whiny, it always is. But you always insist that you love that about him, the way he feels so deeply about everything.

"You really want to argue about something like this?" You're right, you usually are--he's making things difficult when he's not even officially yours. "Well, I don't. So you can call me once you've cooled off."

And just like that, it's quiet; there's no more pressure pushing against him from the other side of the door, no more cutesy nicknames and attempts at coercing him out. Romance's heart drops, and he practically claws his way out, torn between cursing you out for proving him right and leaving, or begging you to take him back and sort everything out as if he hadn't been the one to start this. He's taken only a single step out of the threshold of his sanctuary when your smile greets him--you're leaning casually against the door frame, pretending to inspect your nails.

"So, are you done brooding all by yourself, handsome?"

That playful grin renders Romance speechless; the contrast of your casual attitude against his frenzied panic is impossible to ignore, he's gone through all five stages of grief in under a minute while your trust in him never wavered. Absence truly makes the heart grow fonder because there's a glint in your eyes that tugs at his heartstrings, wild strands of hair that he'd love to twirl in his fingers and kiss ever so gently. Romance knows that you'll let him if he asks for permission, and a knot forms in his throat, face flushed bright pink.

"No." It's all he manages to squeak out before closing the door once more.

"Rommie! Are you mad at me or not?!"

"I don't??? Know??? I need a moment! Just stay there!"

ABBY

"That's the last time I take you anywhere. You can't just pick a fight like that, Abby!" Abby sinks even deeper into the plush cushions of the couch as you continue to scold him, as if his sulking and his silence could single-handedly help him win this argument.

He's already found himself a comfortable spot, but you're still fussing about the living room, throwing your shoes to the side, sending your jacket flying onto the backrest of the sofa, pausing to drink and slamming the glass on the counter a little harder than necessary. Abby knows better than to try and stop you, so he stays put, waiting for his opening.

"What if anyone saw? Did you even think about that? The amount of trouble you'd be in?"

Those are all very good questions that he never bothered to consider; in fact, he still refuses to think about the consequences. There's no point in doing so when you managed to pull him away before he could do any damage to anyone, or to his own reputation as an idol.

"Like they'd even care," Abby huffs, trying to blow a strand of hair out of his eyes. "Just catching a glimpse of us outside is enough to make everyone turn a blind eye, it's almost too easy to work the crowd. One flex of these guns and any broken noses will be totally forgotten."

He makes an attempt to flex said guns, but he finds you looming over him from behind the couch, your grasp on his wrists as steady as death. There is a wild look in your expression, one he can't quite understand, but he finds it impossible to tear his eyes away from you. Getting to play the part of guard dog for you comes as easy as breathing, Abby can't get enough of the little tells that give you away, letting him know that you enjoy his antics--but it never crossed his mind that the tables could be reversed like this.

"Fine, let me put it this way! What if you got in trouble or worse, what if you got hurt? Ever thought of that one? Just because you're an all mighty demon doesn't mean you're--"

"You're hot when you're mad." He blurts out.

"I--What?"

A chance to rectify his mistake is presented to him, and he immediately pivots away from it when you blink your pretty eyes at him in confusion. "I said that you're hot when you're--"

"I heard you the first time, Abby. It's just--were you listening to what I was saying?" Okay, this is his chance to steer the conversation back on track. It's very easy, he just has to--

"If I say no, will you scold me some more?"

"Oh my God. Abby. Nevermind."

MYSTERY

Arguing with you is a rare occurrence.

But so is speaking to you, or engaging in any sort of conversation at all with anyone. This is one of the many perks that came with his role as the cool, mysterious and aloof member of the Saja Boys; anything he didn't feel like addressing could be easily swept under the rug and left ignored for centuries. This had been Mystery's modus operandi for years, and he wasn't planning on changing it any time soon.

You, on the other hand, were the opposite, filling the silence he often sought so desperately, until your voice became background noise in his life, a constant, confusing and somewhat comforting presence that simply followed him around.

Mystery still remembers the first time he deigned himself to reply, something off-handed that didn't matter at all, and yet you clung to his every word and went the extra mile to include him in your one-sided talks. It took a long time for the demon to get used to this, and an even longer time to acknowledge the fact that he enjoys the sound of your laughter, way better than the miserable voices crawling in the back of his mind.

Which is why the claustrophobic and oppressive silence lingering in the room irks him to no end. You're supposed to be talking, not playing hard to get or ignoring him over a stupid argument; the way you brush past him, barely acknowledging his existence as you go about your day is getting under his skin in ways he never knew were possible.

And then, for a fleeting second, you meet his gaze--this moment lasts for an eternity in his eyes, and he opens his mouth to speak, to seize the opportunity and break the ice, but before he can get a single word out, you turn around and begin to scroll through your phone. That's the last straw.

Mystery stands up and forces himself into your peripheral, hands firmly planted on the wall, trapping you in.

For the first time in forever, he wants to scream, to bark, to growl and give you a piece of his mind. But when he sees the way you awkwardly avoid his gaze, fiddling with your hands and standing at your tiptoes, Mystery relents and his frustration is replaced with something else; endearment. You're still wearing his merch, one of the very first shirts the Saja Boys released long ago with his name written on it, you're still attempting to hide from him despite knowing there's nowhere in the world you could go without him finding you.

Slowly, Mystery raises a hand towards you, enjoying your half-hearted attempt at shaking him off, pretending to bite the air near him.

And then he pinches your nose. "Cute."

After that, he leaves. You'll come around when you feel like it.

BABY

"You went too far this time, there was no need to get so personal back there."

"That's the entire point of dissing someone, duh. So, was it good? Did you like it?" Baby kicks his feet, hands cupping his cheeks to make himself look as innocent as possible. "I didn't know I could rhyme that many words with 'cunt' but it was soooo fun! Right, right?"

"Baby!"

Tsk. Guess it's the hard way today. That cute expression quickly turns into a scowl and he makes a bee-line for the fridge, if only to find something to drink and distract himself with.

He blows bubbles into the silly straw, sulking in the kitchen. "What? They got what they deserved. What kind of idiot would challenge me to a rap battle if they can't take the heat? Hellooooo, it's Baby Saja we're talking about."

"But it was a friendly thing, you turned it into a massacre for no reason."

"Heh," he knows he shouldn't, but he snickers to himself anyway. "Guess I did, huh? What, do you wanna have a go in their place?"

This is how Baby likes to play, to earn a reaction and entertain himself if only for a little--but you always know better than to play into his shenanigans. And you also know how to get a message through his thick skull, something that continues to astonish him to this day.

Baby continues to sip away on his drink as you busy yourself, fully believing himself to be the victor of this round. But dread starts to make its presence known deep in his chest as he sees you slowly gathering your things--this isn't how things usually go, you always stay the night at his place to keep him company, watching horrible romcoms, eating snacks and falling asleep at 5 a.m.

So why were you leaving?

"Hey, hey. Woaaah! Are you really going to ditch me because I got a little mean to some rando? That's so unfair." The look you give him is enough for his act to crumble, and Baby groans dramatically before hurrying to your side, tugging onto the hem of your sleeves. "Stay here! Pleeeeeeaase? I'll behave next time!"

It doesn't work; you pinch his cheeks and pull, stretching them like mochi. Your voice is stern, even after you let go. "You're old enough to know that what you have to say is 'sorry,' Baby. But if you want to beg for forgiveness, you'll have to try a little harder than that."

Shit. So much for being unfair, the tone of your voice and that look in your eye are more than enough to get all the thoughts in his mind twisted up--Baby hates when you don't indulge him, but even he has to admit that he loves that stubborn streak in you.

"What? Cat got your tongue? I know you well enough by now, there's no way you have nothing to say."

You never waver, meeting his eyes with the same intensity, running a hand through your hair. Baby's mouth turns into a fine line, followed by a pout. If he says anything right now, he'll most likely end up digging his own grave. You look SUPER hot right now, is that good enough to make up and get you to stay? Something like that would most likely earn him the silent treatment for a week.

"Sssssssorry ..."

"See, that wasn't so hard, was it--"

"...for being soooo damn good at my job. Like it's my fault?"

"I'll see you tomorrow Baby."

"Aw, c'mon!"

[pillbuggs]

the gutsby collection

after @gutsby 's recent disappearance, i decided to compile all of her fics that i could find, originally for my own reading purposes because i, too, loved her fics. in light of all of the distraught posts and comments that have followed, i have decided to create and post this list for easy access (through compiling already existing findable reblogs, i haven't copied, downloaded, or reposted anything, i'm just putting everything in one place). discovering that you're suddenly unable to reach a favorite blog or never got to finish a well written fic sucks, so i hope y'all are able to find what you're looking for here. if you have any fics of hers reblogged that i've missed feel free to send them my way so i can add them here.

please note these might only be expandable/readable on desktop.

Waiting Game: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Extras More Extras Even More Extras Another Extra

chapters 1-8 can also be found on her ao3 which is still up!

Make It Stick: Prequel Part 1 Part 2 More Old!Joel Even More Another

🌸 Seeing Pink: "Joel steals more of your innocence every day. Fortunately, you love to give as much as he loves to take."

📺 My Body, His Choice: "After a long day, Joel just needs some relief."

🌡️ Cabin Fever: "Joel saves your life, but help comes at a price."

💧 Brighter Times: "You've always been Joel's favorite. Always."

🚸 Love Tap: "Old habits die hard with your husband–touching you at inappropriate times is one of them."

📚 Wants and Needs: "Bills are high; your dad's boss wants to help. How you pay him stays between you and him–for now."

🍼 Cry, Baby: "Joel fucks you to the point of tears. That's all."

🧺 Who's Your Daddy?: "You get stuck in the washing machine. Thankfully, your stepdad is around to help you out."

🍑 Just Peachy: "Joel's got a jealous streak and a bold idea."

🍺 Cowboy Killers: "On a mission to find–and fight–your best friend's lying, cheating boyfriend at the bar, you end up throwing your drink in the wrong face and landing in a sticky situation with Joel Miller, who never plays fair."

💵 Easy to Please: "Months pass, and you can't make rent–again. You find another way to pay your sleazy landlord. Again."

🍍 If You Like Piña Coladas: "You secretly make Joel a profile on Hinge. Then he shows you exactly why he doesn't need one."

⚾️ Heavy Hitter: "A kick in the dick is a strange way to get a man's attention, but Coach Miller doesn't mind at all."

🎬 Too Close for Comfort: "You've been babysitting Sarah Miller forever. One day, you're surfing the web on her dad's computer, and you find some...unusual things in his search history."

🇺🇸 Bigger in Texas: "Joel won't fit."

[neellscapsule]

My Heart — Part Five

summary | your family realizes how much they have missed. the problem is that you are a grown up by now, and terrible hurt by their neglect.

pairing | platonic yandere batfam x batsis!neglected!reader. conner kent x reader.

warnings / tags | angst, hurt/little comfort, y/n is mentioned as a female, trauma, family issues, mostly trust and daddy issues. they all love each other (PLATONICALLY) they just don't know how to feel it and express it correctly. it gets darker (not now). kissing with conner.

word count |

authors note | hi there!! english is not my first languaje so there might be some mistakes, or not, it can depend :) please vote <3 dick is 28. jason is 23. reader will be 22 in a few months. cass is 21. tim is 20. duke is 18. damian is 13. conner looks 22 as well.

we get to see more of the family interacting: we notice the more yandere's traits they have. timothy "stalker" drake, i'm looking at you.

taglist | @cebrospudipudi @jjoppees @corvoqueen @nirvanaxx1942 @lilyalone @aixaingela @lettucel0ver @time-shardz @pix-stuff @galaxypurplerose @cupid73 @theproblemisthattimnotfictional @vanessa-boo @timebomb1101 @chemicalwindexbottle @chiizuluvr @ihavenomuse @mat5u0 @thismessyshe @lovebug-apple @myjumper @angwlart @esposadomd @nisarelle @mrmacwaffles @mazixxss @ememgl @naomi-xxi @bbmgirll @ash0-0ley @rowan-no-rizzz @hearts4mica @sillyheartmoonnyx @crumbs-and-covers @nininehaaa @ironsaladwitch @c4xcocoa @keyllsbk @welpthisisboring @redkarmakai @yuyuzi-ling @91-kya

previous. next.

The first thing you feel is the cold.

Not the physical kind — no — this is the cold that burrows under your skin, spreads through your chest, weaves like smoke into your bloodstream. It wraps your heart in ice and squeezes until it barely beats.

It starts the same way it always does — with their eyes.

Lifeless. Vacant. Glassy.

You were fourteen the first time you saw them like that.

Your dream drags you back to that night, just as it always does — a loop you can’t seem to break no matter how many years or how many walls you’ve built around it.

Gotham’s alleyways bleed shadows as you run. Sirens wail somewhere far, but not far enough. Your breathing is ragged, frantic. The acrid sting of chemicals still burns your throat.

Crane's toxin hits differently when you're young. The moment it fogged your mask, your lungs screamed, your vision tilted — and then they appeared.

Jason. Alfred. Dick. Tim. Cass. Even Bruce.

Limp bodies, rotting where they stood, faces sunken and gray, eyes milky and unseeing. Your family, dead, decaying, abandoned in the dark — and all of it your fault. Bruce, too. His cowl half-melted, eyes gaping holes, jaw slack with death.

It wasn’t real. You knew it wasn’t real — but logic is weak against fear when it slides like oil down your spine.

You remember screaming their names, clawing at the hallucinations, sobbing against decayed limbs that shouldn’t have been real but felt so real — and then, beyond the rot and bones, his voice:

Jonathan Crane.

Soft. Mocking. Even though you couldn't understand a word of what he was saying. 

He stepped out of the shadows with that stitched mask, needles glinting at his belt, and you snapped.

You were fourteen. Fourteen and trained by the Bat. Fourteen and drowning in terror and rage.

Your fists collided with him before he could react. The world blurred. You were a hurricane — wild and furious — every punch cracking bone beneath that burlap mask. His blood splattered your gloves, your cheeks, your tongue — copper sharp and animalistic.

He stabbed the syringes into your arms, desperate to slow you, but the toxin already drowned your mind. What was a little more poison when your whole world was rotting?

You kept hitting him until his mask split, until he whimpered like a kicked dog, until his teeth glittered red in the moonlight.

You remember that.

The smell of blood and toxin. The sound of your knuckles breaking his jaw. The cold that never left.

You don’t remember stopping. You didn’t stop until Bruce and Dick pulled you off him, you know that.

The following days were a blur of fever dreams and locked doors. You hid in your room. Refused to see them. Couldn’t bear to look at their faces, afraid they’d still be decomposing, still blaming you. Hiding from your own reflection, your own family, unsure if what you saw in the mirror was skin or rot beneath.

You don’t remember much after that. But the fear never left.

You bolt upright in bed, tangled in cream-colored sheets, breath clawing at your lungs, hair plastered to your neck with cold sweat. The bedroom is quiet and far too warm.

Your chest heaves, lungs dragging in shaky gulps of air as your pulse pounds behind your eyes. The silk sheets tangle around your hips, damp with sweat, cool against feverish skin.

The apartment is still. Safe.

You’re not fourteen.

You're in Gotham.

You're not drowning in Scarecrow's nightmare.

It takes a beat to remember. To piece together reality. To let your heartbeat slow under the hum of Gotham’s traffic.

A low breath curls against your spine, warm and steady.

Conner.

You turn your head, heart slowing as you see him sprawled beside you — his arm stretched over the sheets, hand splayed lightly against your stomach.

He’s shirtless. Hair messy. Lips parted in sleep.

There’s a crease between his brows, even unconscious — that stubborn frown he always wears when he’s worried or… dreaming of worse things.

You ease onto your side, clutching the sheet to your chest as your breathing settles. His hand slides gently over your skin, thumb tracing a path along the curve of your waist.

“You alright?” His voice is rough with sleep, low and gentle. His hand twitches faintly, fingers curling like muscle memory.

You blink at him, surprised.

“You’re awake.”

He cracks one eye open, offering a crooked, sleepy smile. “Kinda hard to sleep through your breathing like that, Huntress.”

Your lips twitch despite yourself. “Nightmare,” you admit, voice barely a whisper.

Conner’s expression softens immediately. He props himself onto his elbow, the sheet slipping down his torso. His hand strokes your side, careful and grounding.

“Wanna talk about it?”

You hesitate. The memory is heavy, clawing up your throat like bile. But his eyes — steady, concerned — anchor you.

You swallow. “Scarecrow. First time I… got hit with his toxin.”

Conner exhales slowly, thumb stilling on your skin. “Shit.”

He knows. Of course he knows. You told him once, years ago — in pieces, over rooftop beers and sleepless stakeouts.

You exhale, a long, shaky sound. Your free hand drifts across the sheet, curling over his wrist, thumb pressing to the steady thrum of his pulse. It calms you more than you want to admit.

“They… they were all dead,” you whisper. “Rotting. Just… walking corpses. I was alone. Again.”

Conner’s jaw tightens. His fingers curl against your waist. “It wasn’t real.”

You nod. “I know.” You pause, then add softly, “Didn’t feel like that.”

There’s a beat of silence, then his hand cups your cheek, gentle but firm. His thumb strokes the edge of your jaw, tilting your face toward his.

“It’s not real,” he says, brushing his forehead against yours, nudging gentle. “You know that, right?”

“Yeah.”

He presses a kiss to your temple. “You’re not alone. Not now.”

A pause. You swallow, throat tight.

“Not ever?”

“Never.”

The promise is whispered into your hairline, soft and raw, and you lean into it. His warmth soaks through the chill clinging to your bones, and for the first time since the nightmare woke you, you breathe — steady, deep.

Your hand slides from his wrist to cup his jaw, thumb tracing the corner of his mouth.

“You’re obnoxiously good at this,” you murmur, lips quirking faintly.

He grins, sleep-laced and boyish, dark hair mussed wildly. “What? Being charming?”

“Comforting,” you correct, biting back a smile.

“Well…” He tilts his head, grinning crooked. “Stick with me, sweetheart.”

You lean in, lips brushing his, slow and languid — grateful. The kiss is soft, unhurried. He lets you guide it, lets you set the pace. His hand curls at your waist, steady, protective.

Your fingers twist in his hair, pulling him closer, and the kiss deepens — all warmth and messy, quiet want. You sigh against his lips, the lingering tension bleeding out, dissolving under his touch.

The fear loosens.

The memory fades.

Only him remains — solid, steady, familiar.

His hand tangles in your hair too, mouth coaxing yours open, deepening the kiss with patient, aching care.

You sigh into him, the sheet forgotten between you, the warmth of his body drawing you in like a lighthouse through fog. Your legs open, a quiet invitation that he quickly takes, positioning with a smooth movement that takes a chuckle out of your chest. 

The kiss lingers — slow, soft, desperate in its tenderness — until the sharp buzz of your phone shatters the quiet.

You groan, fumbling blindly for the device on the nightstand.

“Let it ring,” Conner mumbles against your neck, nipping gently.

You manage a laugh, swiping the screen without looking.

“Hello?”

“Good morning, Miss Y/N.” Alfred’s familiar voice filters through, calm and faintly amused. “I trust I’m not interrupting?”

You stiffen, mortified. Conner snickers softly against your shoulder, teeth grazing your collarbone. You flick his ear. 

“No,” you say too quickly, voice cracking. “What’s up?”

“I took the liberty of preparing breakfast. Your favorites — those tartlets you’ve always adored.” There’s a pause, weighted but kind. “I thought perhaps… you’d join me and the rest?”

Your chest tightens. You glance at Conner, his smile gentler now, eyes curious. He lefts another kiss on your collarbone, warmer than before.

You blink, stunned silent for half a beat. The familiar ache coils behind your ribs — bittersweet, raw, impossible to refuse.

“Alfred…”

“No pressure,” he says, gentler now. “But it would mean… quite a lot.”

Your eyes drift to Conner. His brows raise in silent question, his hand still warm at your back.

You exhale softly. Smile, small but real.

“I’ll be there,” you whisper.

“Excellent,” Alfred replies, tenderly. “Take your time, dear.”

The line clicks off.

“Breakfast with the bats,” Conner teases, shifting under the sheets, propping himself up on one elbow, the wickedest little grin curling at the corner of his mouth. “You should probably find a bulletproof vest, but instead of bullets, it should cover your neck.”

You snort despite yourself, tossing the phone back onto the nightstand and burrowing deeper into the mattress, dragging the blanket halfway up your face in dread. “It’s not funny.”

“Oh, no, it’s hilarious,” he says, and before you can dodge or protest, his hand snakes under the blanket, fingers splaying across your waist as he lunges.

“Conner—”

Too late.

He attacks, pressing a barrage of rapid, sloppy kisses across your jaw, your cheek, your neck — anywhere his mouth can reach, relentless and laughing as he does it.

“Stop—” You squeal, laughing despite the weight of anxiety knotted in your stomach, batting at his shoulders. “Conner, I’m serious—”

“So am I,” he shoots back, lips brushing your collarbone, nose bumping against your throat, the grin in his voice unmistakable. “Serious about distracting you before you spiral.”

“I’m not spiraling,” you lie, breath hitching when his teeth nip playfully at your pulse point.

“You’re thinking too much,” he counters, peppering another trail of warm kisses up your jaw. “I can hear your brain overheating.”

You giggle, shoving weakly at his chest, but he doesn’t budge — just keeps kissing you, soft and obnoxious and entirely unbothered by your half-hearted protests. Your laughter bubbles up, real and bright, smoothing the edges of fear lingering in your ribs.

“Conner—”

“Kiss truce?” he offers, finally slowing, hovering over you with that boyish smile, eyes sparkling with something warmer, heavier. His hand curls gently against your waist, thumb brushing lazy circles over your hipbone.

You sigh, breathless, still laughing faintly as you grab the front of his shirt, tugging him down.

“Fine,” you mutter, lips brushing his, “but only because you’re insufferably charming.”

“Hey,” he grins against your mouth, voice dropping low, teasing, “you’re the one kissing me now, sweetheart.”

And you do —

Kiss him again.

Hard enough to forget, just for a moment, about breakfast. About Gotham.

About all of it.

Wayne Manor hasn’t changed.

Not really.

The stones still hum with history, the sprawling estate looming against the gray Gotham skyline like a relic frozen in time. The windows gleam like polished obsidian, sharp and silent. The front doors creak the same way they did when you were seven, sneaking back in after hours spent curled under the rose garden arbor, sketchbook clutched to your chest.

You pause at the front steps, fingers brushing the cool wrought-iron railing, a familiar tightness curling in your ribs.

Everything feels… too heavy. Too loud with memory.

You hated how much you missed this place.

The halls are the same. Portraits hanging like ghosts of the past — old Waynes, stoic and stone-eyed, watching you walk the corridor as if you don’t belong. Maybe you never did.

Laughter down these same halls you were never quite part of. Cold nights on the roof waiting for a father who never noticed you’d fallen asleep waiting. Echoes of piano keys under your hands, playing to the ghosts of people still living.

But the smell…

It wasn’t home — not anymore, not for years — but it still smelled like your childhood. The faint warmth of Alfred’s coffee brewing. The sharp, citrus-clean scent of polished wood. The faintest sweetness of something baking. It’s the same.

Your footsteps echo as you make your way to the dining room, the clock on the wall mocking you — ten minutes late. You could’ve been early. You could’ve walked in like you were supposed to. But your legs dragged, your spine resisted, your heart whispered not yet.

They’re all here. The entire family sat gathered around the sprawling breakfast table, the silverware glinting against fine china, the food — fresh tarts, waffles, berries, all the things you loved — barely touched.

The moment you slip through the threshold, you can feel it. Tension. Anticipation.

Barbara’s seated nearest the head of the table, red hair tied back, elegant as ever. Dick’s beside her, arms folded, blue eyes flicking to you instantly with a grin that’s a little too proud, a little too… relieved.

“Birdie,” Dick’s voice finally cut through the silence, his grin stretching wider as he crossed the room in three strides and crushed you into his chest without waiting for permission.

Your arms hung stiff at your sides.

You let him hug you. Let him press his chin to your hair, rocking you gently like you were something fragile he forgot how to hold. But you didn’t hug him back. Not yet.

“Ten minutes late,” Dick whispered, breath warm against your temple. “You owe me for that.”

Jason’s leaning back in his chair, legs sprawled wide, toying with the edge of a coffee cup like it’s a weapon. His eyes cut toward you as you enter, unreadable, but there’s a softness buried somewhere beneath that sharp jaw.

Cass is beside him, quiet, sharp-eyed, assessing you with that hawk-like stare that never misses anything.

Tim, next, flipping casually through something on his phone — only to stop dead when he sees you. His smile is smaller than the others, but real.

Steph waves from across the table, already chewing on what looks like a muffin, bright as ever. Duke gives you a simple nod, polite but watchful.

And Damian— seated beside the chair left empty for you — his eyes sharpen immediately, like a hawk spotting prey, and before you can even consider another seat, his hand slides to the back of the chair beside him, pulling it out in silent demand.

You hesitate. Only a moment.

But the silence says enough. You walk forward, heels clicking against marble, and lower yourself into the chair— wedged between Tim and Damian, your youngest brother already shifting, moving his own chair closer with a sharp scrape of wood, until there’s no space left. His shoulder brushes yours. You say nothing.

“Nice of you to join us,” Duke teases gently, his grin easy, like this isn’t suffocating.

“Traffic,” you lie smoothly, reaching for a coffee cup.

Alfred appears at your shoulder, refilling it before you even finish the motion. His eyes crinkle faintly. You mouth a thank you.

The talk swirls— casual, loud, overlapping. You barely listen.

Until Bruce’s voice cuts through it. “Where are you staying?”

You pause, fingers curling tighter around your cup. Your lips part to answer.

“She’s at the Royal Resort,” Tim pipes up, glancing down at his phone like the information’s public knowledge.

Your mouth snaps shut. Your head tilts toward him, brows furrowing, irritation bubbling low beneath your ribs.

“How do you—?”

“Credit card trail,” he answers simply, like that explains everything. “Nice place. But you know that.”

Your jaw ticks. Your eyes narrow faintly, and Damian’s quiet scoff beside you draws your attention before you can retort.

“No Wayne should stay in a hotel when the Manor is theirs,” Damian says bluntly, green eyes sharp, arms crossing over his chest. “It’s pathetic.”

You roll your eyes, leaning forward to grab one of the little lemon tarts perched neatly on the silver tray in the center of the table. Before your fingers even brush the plate, a hand beats you to it— Jason.

He grabs one tart, drops it silently onto your plate, eyes lingering on you for a second, unreadable, before turning his attention to the waffle platter, scooping one onto his own plate. Neither of you says anything.

Your jaw tightens. The warmth in your chest clashes with the frustration.

“Thank you,” you mutter, biting the edge off the words as you slice into the tart.

“You should come home,” Bruce says plainly, cutting through the conversation like it’s strategy.

Your fork pauses halfway to your mouth.

“Here we go,” you mutter under your breath.

“Father’s right,” Damian insists, straightening beside you. “The Manor is your home.”

“You don’t get to decide that for me,” you shoot back coolly, finally turning your gaze toward Bruce, challenging. “I’ve been just fine where I am.”

“‘Fine’ is a low standard,” Tim interjects, voice dry, sipping his coffee. “We can do better.”

You glare. He doesn’t flinch.

“It’s not a negotiation,” Bruce says, voice soft but firm — Batman creeping in around the edges. “This is your home. It always has been.”

Your stomach knots. Years of silence. Neglect. Overlooked birthdays, missed recitals, absent gazes during galas when you were practically begging to be seen— it all surges up like bile.

“I don’t—”

“You belong here,” Damian cuts in, sharp, insistent, his chair nearly flush to yours now. His green eyes burn with possessiveness only a child that never learned to share can wield. “With us.”

Your tongue darts across your bottom lip. You hesitate, but the room leaves no space to breathe, no space to speak.

“You’re not serious.”

Bruce’s jaw ticked, that faint clench you’d seen too many times before. “You’re not safe.”

“I’ve been safe for years,” you shot back, the weight of the old argument settling over your shoulders like a threadbare cloak. “Without you.”

“We didn’t know where you were,” Dick added, voice soft, as if that might somehow make it hurt less. “That’s not okay.”

“That’s exactly how I wanted it.”

Damian’s hands tightened into fists on the table, his leg pressed fully against yours now, unmoving, steady, anchoring you in place whether you wanted it or not.

“You’re a Wayne,” Bruce continued, firm, final. “You belong here.”

Your lips twisted into something that wasn’t quite a smile.

“Since when?”

Jason’s fingers drummed against the edge of his plate. He didn’t look at you. “Since always.”

You exhaled slowly, dragging your gaze away from them, scanning the familiar walls, the weight of the manor sinking into your ribs like it never left.

The lemon tart tasted exactly like you remembered. Alfred still made them just right. And that’s what made it hurt more.

It was suffocating.

Cass’s gaze pins you, quiet support buried beneath sharp awareness. Barbara watches you softly, expression unreadable. Jason’s jaw tightens faintly, eyes flicking to you, then away. Duke, Steph, Tim— they’re all watching, waiting.

And Bruce—

Bruce’s gaze softens, only a fraction, but it’s there. That quiet, fatherly plea buried beneath years of stubborn, stoic failure.

The tart on your plate mocks you. The Manor hums around you, familiar and suffocating.

There’s no room to say no. Not really.

You sigh, setting your fork down.

“Fine,” you mutter, eyes locked on your plate.

You can feel their quiet satisfaction settle over the table, thick as the walls surrounding you. And once again, Wayne Manor swallows you whole.

The table doesn’t fall back into the same rhythm after your reluctant acceptance. No— it thickens, something denser now floating around the plates, in the glances they trade when they think you’re not watching. The way Barbara’s eyes linger on you when she thinks she’s being subtle. The way Duke’s smile doesn’t quite meet his eyes now. The way Tim taps his fork against his plate with that knowing edge, like he’s already planning the security sweeps he’ll make to ensure you’re not booking another hotel behind their backs.

It’s suffocating.

You cut another small bite of the lemon tart, chewing slowly, trying to keep your breathing level. Across from you, Jason is picking apart his waffle, dragging his fork in absentminded circles, occasionally flicking his gaze up toward you, then away like he’s pretending not to watch you this closely.

Like he wasn’t the one who deliberately placed the tart on your plate to begin with. Like he didn’t just decide to slip right back into your habits like he never left.

You hate how familiar this is. You hate how much your chest aches with the weight of it.

You hate that you missed them.

“Alfred,” you call softly, folding your napkin with delicate precision. The butler steps closer almost immediately, as if he never left the edge of the room. “Do I— does my room still…?”

His smile creases warmly. “Your room is precisely as you left it, Miss.”

Your mouth twists. Your room. Not guest room. Not temporarily made up for you. Your room.

Even though you left years ago, and you were never supposed to come back.

You catch Bruce watching you over the rim of his cup, his expression carved in that deep, impenetrable stone that always used to make you second guess what you meant to him.

The silence drags, then Dick leans forward, the weight of his folded arms settling over the table.

“We can help you move your things,” he says, soft, careful, like he’s handling you the way you handle old paintings— afraid you’ll crack with the wrong touch. “I mean, unless you plan to stay in a hotel for the rest of your life.”

You raise a brow at him, fingers smoothing over your napkin, pretending to consider. “Tempting.”

Damian shifts closer — which you didn’t think was possible — until his chair scrapes a few more millimeters forward, his shoulder fully pressing against yours now, steady, grounding.

“I will help my sister. Titus can carry her stuff while I help with the rest.” His brows go back to normal, looking at you with his slight narrowed green eyes. You have always admired just how cute your brother could be: perhaps, with a normal childhood, he could have been a stereotypical Draco Malfoy.

But he's not. He reminds you a bit more of a mix between Malfoy and Harry.

His lips carry a smirk that you have seen in your father. The perfect mix between he and Talia, of course.

You snap your head toward your other young brother, incredulous now that you remember the reply minutes ago. “You’ve been tracking me?”

“Not ‘tracking.’” Tim shrugs, not bothering to look up from his phone. “Monitoring.”

Your jaw ticks. “That’s not any better.”

“It’s more responsible.”

Your breath puffs out in disbelief, fingers tightening around your cup.

“Tim, I could be halfway across the world and you’d still have eyes on me, wouldn’t you?”

He finally glances up, soft, smug smile twisting his mouth. “Could be, but you’re not across the world. You’re here.”

Your stomach knots. You should be angry. You should be furious, even. But you know Tim. He’s always done this. He’s always catalogued everything, everyone. He doesn’t let go. Especially not when it comes to family.

Especially not you.

“I should’ve expected that,” you mutter under your breath, taking another slow sip of coffee.

“You should’ve,” he agrees, not missing a beat.

The tart on your plate is half-finished when Jason's voice cuts through the low hum of conversation, sharp and unexpected.

“What the hell are those?”

The fork stalls halfway to your mouth, lemon curd trembling slightly at the edge of the silver. Your spine stiffens. Your eyes lift, meeting his across the table.

Jason’s gaze isn’t playful now. It’s sharp, narrowed in on you with a familiarity that only older brothers possess, and his hand gestures vaguely to your collarbone — or more specifically, the faint bruising peeking just beneath the open neckline of your sweater. The marks you hadn’t bothered to conceal this morning, half out of carelessness, half because you didn’t think they’d look that close.

A hush falls over the table, the scrape of a chair leg echoing somewhere as everyone turns to look.

You lower your fork. Slowly.

“Sorry, what?” you ask, tone deceptively light.

Jason leans forward, elbow braced on the table, expression unreadable but sharp with suspicion. “Those marks. On your neck. And your wrist—” his eyes flick down, zeroing in on the faint reddish imprint around your wrist bone, peeking from beneath your sleeve, “—what the hell, sis?”

Beside you, Damian’s eyes narrow, gaze flicking from your neck to your wrist, his posture straightening, the edge of his chair scraping closer again, practically caging you in now.

“They’re nothing,” you say flatly, adjusting your sleeve as casually as you can manage.

“Yeah, sure,” Steph chimes in, voice half-muffled by a bite of muffin. “You just tripped over your own charm and face-planted into a set of hickeys?”

Heat burns along your neck, but you force your expression blank, slicing another neat bite of tart onto your fork. “You all need to mind your own business.”

“Oh, that’s rich,” Tim mutters under his breath, flipping his coffee stirrer between his fingers. “The girl who used to hack into the GCPD for fun is telling us about boundaries.”

“Tim,” Cass warns softly, her voice calm but carrying weight as always.

But it’s too late— the floodgates are open now.

Dick raises a brow, that annoyingly big-brother grin slipping onto his face as he leans onto his forearms. “So… who’s the lucky idiot?”

“There is no idiot,” you bite back, glaring down at your plate.

“Those marks say otherwise,” Jason deadpans, reaching casually for the coffee pot like he’s not interrogating you in front of the entire damn family. “You look like you got attacked by a particularly enthusiastic vampire.”

Your blush deepens, teeth sinking into your cheek as you shoot him a glare sharp enough to cut glass. Damian, beside you, shifts slightly, still watching you with hawk-like intensity, green eyes narrowed and calculating.

“You should tell us who it is,” he says, voice deceptively neutral for a thirteen-year-old. “It would be… concerning if someone thought they could handle you like that.”

“‘Handle’?” you repeat, scoffing under your breath, “God, you sound like Father.”

Bruce’s gaze sharpens slightly at the end of the table, coffee cup paused halfway to his mouth. “If someone’s putting hands on you—”

“They’re not,” you cut in quickly, jabbing your fork at your plate with a little more force than necessary. “I’m perfectly capable of making my own terrible decisions, thanks.”

Steph snickers beside Barbara, who just hides a smile behind her glass.

Jason shakes his head, tapping his fingers against the tabletop in thought. “Nah. I don’t like it.”

“Of course you don’t,” you snap, finally tossing your fork onto the plate with a sharp clatter. “Because God forbid I have a life outside of this family circus.”

“You’re family,” Dick reminds you, annoyingly calm. “It’s our job to meddle.”

You groan, fingers pressing to your temples. “You’re all impossible.”

Duke, quiet until now, finally pipes up, smirking faintly over his cup. “You missed us.”

“I missed Alfred,” you correct without missing a beat.

The butler, returning with a fresh pot of coffee, arches a brow, entirely unbothered. “Flattery will not spare you from their interrogation, Miss.”

Jason points at him. “Thank you, Alfred.”

“Traitor,” you grumble.

“Don’t deflect,” Damian mutters beside you, voice low. His chair edges closer still— impossibly close now, thigh brushing yours, as his sharp gaze narrows. “I know who it is. You are copulating-”

“Copulating?” You repeat, disgusted. Your siblings share the same expression, looking more alike than ever. “Who taught you that word?”

“Yeah, say 'fuck' like any normal person, Jesus,” Jason grimaced, and then points to you. “You are so not getting out of this.”

“Language, Jason.”

“Well, teach your son some sex ed. I will vomit if he says copulating again.”

“Drop it,” you warn, stabbing a piece of waffle with unnecessary force.

But you can practically hear the gears turning in their collective heads. Barbara’s gaze sharpens from across the table. Cass tilts her head, reading you like an open book, eyes narrowing faintly in quiet realization.

Steph smirks, leaning toward Duke to whisper something conspiratorial under her breath, while Duke just winces, clearly aware that this is about to escalate.

“I swear to god,” Jason mutters, pushing his chair back slightly, eyes still locked on you. “If it’s some trust fund idiot from the gala—”

“It wasn’t,” you cut in coolly, but the room’s already spiraling beyond your control.

“Wait,” Tim says suddenly, frowning, and your stomach drops before the words even leave his mouth. “You disappeared at the gala early.”

You sip your coffee, eyes narrowing. “I’m allowed to leave parties, Timothy.”

Damian shifts beside you, straightening abruptly like the pieces have clicked into place. His eyes burn with that possessive, entirely unearned little-brother rage that could level cities.

“You were with him,” he says simply, like a verdict.

The table pauses.

Jason’s jaw clenches. “With who?”

Tim stills, processing. “Who’s him?”

Cass’s eyes widen a fraction, realization dawning.

Barbara sighs under her breath. “Oh, hell.”

“You were drinking with him at the bar,” Damian continues, voice low, lethal in that thirteen-year-old, miniature-Bruce-Wayne way that makes your skin crawl. “Superboy.”

The room explodes.

“CONNER?!” Jason practically shouts, chair scraping back, hands slapping the table as every sibling conversation devolves into chaos.

“Wait—Conner as in—Superboy?!” Steph’s eyes widen, practically giddy, because of course she’s here for the drama.

Tim’s entire expression freezes, mouth parting in disbelief. “You hooked up with my best friend?!”

“You’ve got the worst taste in men,” Duke says, mostly to himself, grabbing his coffee like it’s the only thing grounding him in this disaster.

Cass doesn’t speak, but her eyes glint with knowing, watching the unravel like a cat observing trapped prey.

“Calm down,” you snap, glaring at Jason and Tim, who both look two seconds away from either passing out or throwing a chair.

“I am calm,” Jason lies, pointing an accusing finger at you. “You, on the other hand, have hickeys from a Kryptonian.”

“Allegedly,” you say dryly, biting into your tart like this isn’t your worst nightmare.

Tim looks visibly ill. “Why would you—he’s—he’s Conner!”

“Your best friend is hot,” you shoot back without mercy, because if you’re going down, you’re going down swinging.

Damian scowls, arms crossing so tight you can practically hear his ribs protest. “He’s also an idiot.”

“Better than the parade of emotionally repressed vigilantes in this family,” you mutter, and Steph laughs, covering her mouth with her hand.

Bruce, finally, speaks—voice low, quiet, but commanding enough that the table halts.

“We’re not discussing this at breakfast.”

You glance at him, arching a brow. “Why? We discuss everything else. Including where I sleep, apparently.”

A flash of guilt crosses his expression. He doesn’t argue.

“Are you seeing him?” Tim pushes, wounded pride flaring in his tone.

You shrug, licking lemon curd off your fork with infuriating calm. “That’s between me and Conner.”

Jason groans into his hands. “I need aspirin.”

Damian still simmers beside you, eyes dark, but says nothing, clearly cataloguing ways to poison a Kryptonian.

The chaos simmers, the table still thick with tension, but you ignore it, sipping your coffee with slow, deliberate ease.

“Relax,” you mutter, half to yourself, half to them all. “You’ve got bigger problems than my love life.”

“Not if you bring him around here,” Jason threatens weakly, stabbing his waffle like it insulted him.

You smirk faintly, eyes glinting.

“Guess you’ll have to be on your best behavior then.”

And just like that, the first real sibling fight in years ignites fully—loud, overlapping, messy—like you never left.

And for a second, you almost let yourself enjoy it.

[monicahar]

bark like you want it...?

in which you jokingly treat them like a pet.

characters; phainon, mydeimos, anaxagoras

— gender neutral reader, established relationships, fluff, sugestive at anaxa's part, need ts after the hellscape the current amphoreus is in andddd hi yes im back with a kinda fun idea and uhhhh yeah sleep pronto (*ﾟ▽ﾟ)ﾉ

It was supposed to be all fun and games. you'd say 'sit' and you'd expect him to raise a brow or two before whining about how you're treating him rudely. instead and very much contrary, the next second, PHAINON is immediately sat without question.

"well, you told me to sit!" is his meek excuse, turning red just as fast when you doubled over and laughed for a minute straight.

you think it's weird and cute. he thinks it's betrayal.

"is it so bad that i want to please you?" he says weakly whilst patting down his attire upon as he stood up straight, still burning up in sheer embarrassment. it's truly a sight to see someone as proud as him get shy. "as if it's my fault..."

you disregard his mutterings as you finally calm your giggles down, "to that extent, though? what if i asked you to bark? hm?"

phainon displays a waver in confidence, constructing his words carefully and said, "well, i'd do anything for you," he then slides you a sidelong look, one that's clearly not impressed. "even if it's something like... barking and sitting on command."

it looked like it pained him to say the last part.

still, you're unable to keep the corners of your lips at bay, genuinely elated at his response.

but unfortunately for him, there always has to be a catch when it comes to your very-easy-to-tease boyfriend...

so you let your lashes flutter, watching carefully as his smile grows a tad wary at your shift in demeanor.

"phainon... you sure you're not into this?"

the future leader of the chrysos heirs — your cute little snowy, explodes into another burst of red, looking as scandalized as you expected.

"wha — what is that supposed to mean?!"

his pouty expression makes him look like a kicked puppy now that you think more about it — of which reminds you the way he begs for attention and kisses, is eager to please, also likes your praise, and often sulks in a corner whenever you don’t... like a puppy.

the resemblance is almost uncanny. how amusing.

"maybe you were a dog in your past life,"

"..."

"..."

"...um, are you going to elaborate?"

you simply smile in return.

MYDEI stares like you'd slapped him across the face when you tell him to roll over.

"what?" you prod further when he doesn't say anything in response, "you shy or something?"

a glint appears in his eyes and you already know what he's going to say next.

"there's no such thing in the kremnoan langua —"

"mydei," you stare back, rid of all humor. he stares back, equally fiery. "roll. over."

you can practically see all the stages of grief flash in his eyes within mere seconds, weighing his options against you. you inspect your nails in an attempt to hide your anticipation. mydei is a wildcard if anything.

would he pretend he didn’t hear anything? probable. would he be mean about it? probable too. would he actually go along with it? pfft, yeah, and pigs would start falling from the sky —

to your most and utter horror, he starts lowering himself to the ground.

you shriek and stop him from continuing any further by grabbing a hold of his shoulders. (drool...) "hey, hey! i was kidding, you freak!"

"who are you calling a freak?" he snaps, not looking very intimidating as he's already kneeling down on one knee before you. "and i'm just following as you told me, am i not?"

"y-yeah but..."

he stands up, half-heartedly glaring you down. "i set aside my pride for your antics and you halt me. why?"

"it's more like why were you about to go along with something that's obviously said in jest..."

"hm. aglaea told me that you would often have weird tendencies and commands," he shrugs your hand off of his shoulder, "and that i should obey them without question if i want a... happy you. something ridiculous like that."

your jaw hangs open. mydei akwardly closes it shut. "you... you consult aglaea about... me?"

he gives you a weird look, "relationships, to be more exact. and why wouldn't i? you're a lot of work."

you deflate, "that's mean, mydei."

the proud chrysos heir shifts his footing, frowning at the air like it wronged him. his words are strained yet truthful, "i just... want to make you happy. that is all."

oh my.

you couldn't hold it any longer and proceed to jump him, whilst pigs do start falling from the sky.

it's pretty much established that ANAXA would yoink you out of the room should you decide to pull that on him during one of his lectures. in front of his students? yeah, you're grounded whether you liked it not.

though, it'd be a completely different story outside such settings...

currently sifting through scrolls sprawled out on his desk was the man of the hour himself, and having decided to accompany him in your free time — your boredom had long kicked in before the idea popped into your mind.

you approach him quietly, before placing your hand on top his head.

"who's a good boy?"

his gaze does not waver from the surface of his desk, but you do catch his contemplative expression freezing for a short moment.

"if you wanted a chalk to your face, you could've just said so."

how romantic. you really can't go a day without your loving boyfriend.

you beam at him, pretending like he hadn’t just threatened you with his 'teaching' gun tool. "that's not very good of you, anaxa. want me to punish you?"

"i believe you're acting up because you haven't gotten plentiful rest. be a dear and go back to your room, will you?"

"you want me gone?" you playfully pout up at him, finally earning his attention as he directs his gaze towards you — a brow raised. "you're being reallyyy bad, right now. i can't believe you'd kick me out just like that."

a sigh escapes anaxa. his singular eye opens to stare you down. you subconsciously gulp down your nerves. did you provoke him too much?

"unprofessional conduct by reffering to me casually during work hours, petting me like some dog and threatening to punish me... pranks like these shall not be tolerated." his eye twinkles in something akin to amusement, "i'll take care of you later."

the tension reaches a stalemate.

your brain short-circuits.

"uh, what do you mean by —"

"you know i dislike it when people ask questions they already know the answer to," as cryptic as ever, he spares you one last glance before returning his attention down to the scrolls laid upon his desk.

heeding his warning of sorts, you depart and stand outside his office — unmoving.

you seem to have brought upon yourself another day of being... unable to walk.

3.4 is taking forever...

[flvvffy]

. ۫ ꣑ৎ . 𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐀𝐍 𝐄𝐑𝐀!𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀

heian era!sukuna who always has you by his side when he's dealing with things around the estate. when he's walking around the garden, he always has you clinging to his bicep as he listens to your silly thoughts and the occasional laughter you let out.

heian era!sukuna who now only allows you to bathe him and the same goes for you. the servants only now long to be able to see and touch his incredible body but he only gives you the privilege. "come. i'm in need of a bath", and you can't protest as he pulls you by the wrist to the bath house.

heian era!sukuna who always has you sat on his lap all pretty as he listens to his people's requests. his lower pair of arms around your waist, holding you firmly and his his subject dare to even glance at you, he shoots then a glare and a warning. "you're here for me, so don't focus on her or deal with my wrath. I'm in a good mood today, so don't upset me"

heian era!sukuna who only allows you to spend countless nights in his chambers. usually after he's done with his other concubines, they leave his chambers immediately, by command. but you, he doesn't even refer to you as one of them, and neither do the others dare as after an long passionate night, he lets you sleep in his chambers, in his bed, only because he enjoys staring at your sleeping form all night.

heian era!sukuna who takes care of you himself when you're sick. whether it be preparing the medicine for you to drink, feeding you your food even though you have energy to feed yourself, dressing you and even carrying you in his arms when you want to go outside. he doesn't care how much you'll protest, he's doing this for you, because he wants to so don't be stubborn about it!

heian era!sukuna who buys you new garments incase of a ceremony or when he's out. he could see a kimono your size and picture your smiling face when you receive his gift. it does something to his dead heart, so he just gets it for you no matter how much it costs. and he just likes showing you off to everyone around him by dressing you up all pretty, with you hair and makeup done by only the finest stylists in the area.

heian era!sukuna who made sure that all the workers know that you're not on their level. he has your chambers adorned with whatever he find fits you. the most comfortable bed, the prettiest mirror so you can look all pretty for him, a huge wardrobe with your many garments and more. he spoils you completely rotten a treatment that no one except you gets. not even his concubines.

heian era!sukuna who prefers sharing meals with you privately. just looking at you place bite after bite in your mouth as elegantly as you can fills so type of void in his heart. you get sauce on your cheek or the corner of your mouth and he reaches out and wipes it away with his thumb before licking it.

heian era!sukuna who pulls you closer into his warm embrace and presses soft kisses to your face when you're sleeping happy that you've accepted him and feel safe around him.

. ۫ ꣑ৎ . 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃 © 𝐅𝐋𝐕𝐕𝐅𝐅𝐘

[promiscuousg1rl]

rich girl ― Rafe Cameron

pairing: rafe cameron x kook!reader

warnings: reader is rich and bitchy, rafe is an undercover thirstbucket.

You'd been in the outer banks for all of five seconds and you were already bored. Your father's reasoning for dragging you and your mother along to meet his new business partner was completely lost on you but there you were.

The minute you met Ward Cameron you knew he was nothing but a suck up. Doting over your father as if he were his biggest fan, a groupie. "Your Forbes Magazine interview was one of the most excellent pieces I've read in years." "Your eye for architectural design is truly admirable." You knew his type. You hated his type.

And his son? Even worse.

Stereotypical country club trust fund loser with a god-awful superiority complex. It showed in the way he smirked as he introduced himself, offering to buy you a drink as his weirdo friends watched from the other side of the room. It made it all the more satisfying when you declined. You'd never seen someone's face fall so quickly.

You truly thought he'd take the hint and leave you alone. Maybe go report back to the goon squad with a lie in order to avoid embarrassment and a bigger hit to his ego. Wishful thinking.

"So," the southern drawl was like nails on a chalkboard. "How are you liking it here so far?"

Pulling your lips away from your martini glass, face stuck in the same blank expression it's been in since your arrival. "It's boring and the entire town smells like salty swamp water."

Rafe frowns.

"I....I guess I can see why you'd think that."

You hum, continuing to observe the party-goers around you. For it to be an event for the creme-de la-creme of Kildare, the attendees don't seem to look the part. It's not as surprising as it is disappointing.

"Your, uh, your dad tells me you're gonna be spending your summer in town. Maybe I can show you around, take you to all our hot spots."

The warning your mother always gives you about rolling your eyes so hard they'll get stuck falls on deaf ears as you do exactly that.

"Those hotspots being this country club and the gator ridden marshes you guys love to get wasted at? No thanks."

His frown gets deeper as he pauses, staring you down with narrowed eyes. "You know, I see what you're doing."

"Excuse me?"

It almost gives you whiplash with a headache to match as that insufferable smirk comes back.

"This whole uninterested shtick you got goin' on." He huffs. "It's a total facade you rich city girls like to pull to play hard to get. You almost had me fooled."

With a sigh you sit your glass down on the bar and turn to face him. "First of all, there is no facade. And second, I am not trying to fool you. I don't even like you. Just because your small town country club groupies find you and that crumb of coke under your nose attractive, doesn't mean I do."

"Aw keep goin' baby, you're only getting me more and more hard."

You scoff. "And now I'll add pervert to your long list of flaws."

"Flaws?"

"Yes," you nod with a mocking look of concern. "You have about a million, your dad actually warned us about them."

The mentioning of his father causes him to completely falter. "Wait, seriously?"

No.

"Yes and if I were you, I'd focus more on the fact that if you don't help him close this deal with my father tonight, he'll be tossing your ass for what he says will be the fiftieth time."

Just as he opens his mouth to probably curse you out in the worse way possible, Ward's voice finds its way over to the two of you.

"Rafe," he and his wife Rose stand side by side with your parents, champagne glasses in hand. "Why don't you come here for a sec, Mr. l/n has a couple of questions for ya."

Suddenly you're the one who's smirking. "You'd better go, daddy's boy. Let's see if you still have a home to go to by the end of the night."

[xoxojisu]

CATSUKI!

synopsis: katsuki loves when you get your nails done.

notes: i wrote this forever ago. now i always have my nails done lol so katsuki can have head scratchies whenever he likes. based off american highschool not ua ^^

bakugo katsuki hates school dances.

he hates homecoming, he hates prom, he hates all of them and every part of it. he hates having to plan so much for something he knows he won’t even enjoy, he hates watching you stress over afterparties and whether or not your dress will come in time. he hates how ridiculously fucking expensive corsages are, especially when he's convinced he could just rip some flowers out of the dirt and it would look the same but for free, he hates the way the hallways reek of self tan the week before, he hates the actual dance itself, and he leaves as soon as they open the doors, though the afterparties are never much better. overall, he doesn’t find much to like about the whole school dance scene.

there is one perk, though.

whenever a school dance comes around, you always get your nails done.

-

katsuki hums a sigh of contentment as you gently scratch his scalp with your long nails, relishing in the sensation.

you chuckle a little at his tendencies. “feel good?”

he hums again, giving you an affirming grunt.

you smile down at him, your fingers continuing their gentle motions through his soft strands. "you're like a cat." you giggle.

at this, he quirks one eye open. "am not."

"are too."

"am not."

"are too."

"am not!"

you giggle at his childish pout. "are too! look at you! i can practically hear you purring."

his pout deepens, and he 'hmphs.' "'m not purring.." he says, his groan on the verge of being a whine. "'m just tired. from all of this stupid prom nonsense. still think we should just get a refund on our tickets and stay in, too. prom is stupid." he mumbles grumpily, still not moving from his spot on your lap.

"well, if not for prom, i wouldnt have gotten my nails done. and i know how much you love it when i do." you tease gently.

"i don't love it. i just.. find it a little relaxing, 's all." he huffs, eyes still closed.

"oh? so you wouldnt mind if i stopped and scrolled on my phone for a bit?" you question, supressing a giggle at the immediate death glare he gives you.

"such a damn brat," he sighs, as if he's not the one getting completely pampered in your lap. "i suppose the whole.. prom thing isn't that bad." he huffs.

you smile in victory and continue carding your fingers through his blonde locks.

"for the record, though," you grin, "you are totally like a cat. or maybe a chihuahua. but a cat."

"am not!"

masterlist reblogs + comments super duper appreciated! <3

[lunarcrown]

Odd request here...

Jimpulse art

Plz

Yknow what? Hell yeah!!! Summer cuddle nap time plus BONUS: impulse pulls his claws out to give some truly stellar wing scratches, knocks Jimmy clean out 💤💤💤

Plus bonus mini drabble by @opalwhisker under the cut bc she was inspired by the sprit of jimpulse HAHA

It was a gloriously perfect day outside. Sunny and warm, but not too hot thanks to a nice cool breeze in the air... the perfect day for a nap in the shade, which exactly what Impulse and Jimmy were doing.

Impulse, Tango and Skizz had all planned a fun day filled with activities for when Jimmy was going to visit the Hermitcraft server, but things rarely ever go to plan and Tango and Skizz had to dip away for a moment to take care of a few things, leaving just Impulse to entertain Jimmy.

Impulse obviously knew Jimmy fairly well after all the life series they'd played in together, but he'd still never had much one-on-one interaction with him before, so his initial attempts at conversation were a little stilted and awkward. He liked Jimmy and thought he was pretty cool and fun to be around... and if he was being honest, Impulse might admit he had a bit of a man crush on the handsome blonde man.

Fortunately, despite Impulse's awkward attempts at conversation, they found themselves slipping into comfortable conversation fairly quickly. Jimmy's smiles and giggles directed right at him had Impulse feeling a little funny, almost as if he were a schoolgirl talking to her crush. But how could he not feel like that when someone as handsome as Jimmy was paying attention to him and no one else in that moment? It felt like they were the only two players on the server when Jimmy spoke to him like that.

"Say, Impulse...?" Jimmy started hesitantly, "I know you 'n Skizz 'n Tango planned out this whole day for when I visited but, uh, since we have a moment, d'y'think we could maybe just... lay on a blanket in some shade and take a nap? That last round of Hungry Hermits really wore me out." Jimmy smiled apologetically and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, looking expectantly at Impulse with those beautiful brown eyes.

"Oh, sure! Yeah, of course, Jimmy! That sounds like a great idea! Here, lemme grab a blanket for us..." Impulse reflexively took Jimmy's hand and led him over to the shade of the nearest tree, rummaging through his ender chest before pulling out a large blanket and laying it on the grass. He put away the ender chest and knelt on the blanket, patting the ground next to him to invite Jimmy to lay down, which the avian happily did, flopping back onto the blanket with a relieved sigh.

"Ohhhh yeah, that's the stuff...." Jimmy heaved a big sigh and closed his eyes, leaving Impulse to fidget a bit by himself, unsure if he should lay down next to Jimmy or just stay as he was.

"...Well? Are you gonna lay down or what?" Jimmy cracked one eye open to look at Impulse, "You were gonna take a nap with me, right?"

"Oh!" Impulse felt his face flush at Jimmy's words, "I uh, wasn't sure if that's what you meant, or--"

"'Course its what I meant! Now get your butt over here, its absolutely perfect nap weather." Jimmy smiled so warmly at him, Impulse couldn't refuse his request, sliding down to lay next to Jimmy on the blanket, close but still a respectful distance between them. Jimmy seemed unhappy about this.

"Do I stink or something? I thought we were going to take a nap _together._" Jimmy pouted, "What's a nap without a bit of cuddling?"

"Well, I guess you're right... naps are better when youre cuddling!" Impulse giggled, trying to mask how flustered he felt that Jimmy expressed a desire to cuddle with _him._

"Of course they are, now get over 'ere!" Jimmy motioned Impulse closer, and the demon hybrid scooted closer until Jimmy could nestle into Impulse's side, resting his head on Impulse's shoulder while Impulse wrapped his arm around Jimmy's body, his hand resting in the bright yellow feathers of Jimmy's wings.

Impulse hoped Jimmy wouldn't be able to hear how hard his heart was beating in his chest at their proximity. Jimmy was so close Impulse could smell the scent of his shampoo in his hair and feel Jimmy's breath tickle his collarbone.

"Ohhh yes this is nice~" Jimmy sighed, practically melting in Impulse's arms, "I always wondered if cuddling with you felt as good as it looks and now I can say that it's even better~"

Impulse was too stunned at the compliment to respond, his cheeks flushing even hotter at the compliment. He was sure Jimmy had to be hearing his heart pounding against his ribcage at this point and must just be teasing him to hear it flutter some more.

"The only thing that could make this better is... y'know, if you wanted to, maybe run your fingers through my feathers? It always feels so nice and relaxing when someone does that...." Jimmy peeked up at Impulse with those cute brown eyes and there was no way Impulse could resist.

"If--" Impulse cleared his throat when the first word came out more high pitched with nerves than he'd wanted it to, "If you want, yeah I-- I can do that..."

The effect was almost instant as soon as Impulse began to card his fingers through Jimmy's soft, golden feathers. The avian hybrid shivered and sighed, melting against Impulse even more, closing his eyes and seeming lost in the calming sensation. His breathing slowed and for a moment Impulse thought he'd fallen asleep and stopped running his fingers through Jimmy's feathers, eliciting a breathless, pleading whine from Jimmy that gave Impulse pleasant goosebumps.

"Noooo please don't stop.... it felt so nice...." Jimmy pouted. "I haven't had someone run their fingers through my feathers like this since the last time Tango did it... oh his claws felt so nice running through them..." Jimmy sighed, lost in his reminiscing for a moment before remembering who he was cuddling with, "Oh! I mean. You're doing a great job too, Impulse! Tango's just got those claws that run through my feathers differently..."

"I mean... if you like it, I could use my claw for you, too." Impulse offered shyly, trying not to blush. What was he doing? He liked Jimmy, but he wasn't close enough with him to know how he might feel about Impulse relaxing more of his glamor around him. Normally Impulse wouldn't even consider something like that until he was more confident that whoever it was wouldn't get scared of him afterwards. There was just something about Jimmy... Impulse wanted to do everything he could to make him happy.

"You... have claws?" Jimmy glanced between Impulse's face and free hand with a bit of confusion, "I didnt know you had claws, Impulse."

"O-oh, um, yeah... usually i keep them hidden with magic, I've found that people are less scared when I hide them.... _Anyways-_" Impulse cut Jimmy off just as he was opening his mouth to respond to Impulse's comment, "I can undo the magic that keeps them hidden if you want..." Jimmy frowned for a moment, noticing Impulse's evasion of the topic, but choosing not to press further.

"If that's okay with you.... yes, please that sounds so nice!" Jimmy smiled so cutely at him Impulse felt his heart jump into his throat for a moment.

"Okay then, then, just close your eyes and I'll-"

"Actually... could I... see? Your claws I mean. If its okay with you!" Jimmy nibbled his lower lip a bit anxiously, "I promise I won't be scared or anything!" He hastily reassured Impulse.

"Well..." Impulse hesitated for a moment. He wasn't sure if he should let Jimmy see, but the avian puppy dog eyes won him over in the end. "Sure, if you want to see, that's fine."

Impulse smiled and Jimmy beamed back at him, his face alight with excitement as he cuddled even closer, resting his head against Impulse's chest and twining their legs together.

Impulse lifted his hand up for Jimmy to see as he slowly undid the glamor that hid his claws, the illusion melting away to reveal his claws and scaled hand, the tough, scaly skin running up his entire forearm.

_"Oh. My. Gosh!!"_ Jimmy squealed, "That is so cool!! Impulse, your claws are so pretty!"

Impulse could feel himself blushing ten times hotter at Jimmy's compliments, his heart racing again at the genuine expression of appreciation and Jimmy's proximity. Evn Impulse couldn't keep his tail from instinctively curling around their legs possessively, his tail tip flicking back and forth in a pleased motion as Jimmy grabbed Impulse's hand to examine his claws and scales up close.

With this perfect weather, cuddled up to someone who makes his heart flutter and is actually admiring a part of himself Impulse usually hid from the world... it was completely perfect. Impulse wished they could stay like that forever in the comfort of each other, but knowing that it wouldn't be forever only made that intimate moment something he savored even more in the moment.

[icewindandboringhorror]

(also feel free in the tags to clarify Why you made the choice you made!! :0c)

[kokodrawings]

It's ok, Minato asked for permission first

[hailsatanacab]

Family Dinners - dpxdc

"Holy shit, you're Bruce Wayne!" Danny gaped, jabbing a finger at the man sitting at the head of the table.

The bustling dining room goes silent as everyone turns to look at him.

"Danny, who did you think was going to be here?" Tim asks, disbelief plain in his voice and Danny feels his face flush red.

"Sorry, I, uh, I guess I just never put it together. Tim Drake-Wayne. Wayne Manor. It, uh, makes sense now." He laughs sheepishly and scrubs at his neck before slumping back down into his chair.

"Well," Tim says with an indulgent sigh, "at least I know you're not just friends with me for my connections."

"Yeah, I'm really sorry, I just never thought about it, I guess."

Danny sinks lower as everyone around him laughs. Come to dinner, he said, the food is the best, he said, ignore the family, he said. Danny really wishes he'd listened to Tim and just ignored them—almost as much as he's regretting accepting the offer in the first place—but... he's having dinner with Batman.

Ancients, that's so weird!

The last time he saw Batman was in the future and, suffice it to say, it was not going well. There hadn't really been time for family dinners there.

Wait. Family dinners?

He peers around the table, openly gawking at everyone as it all clicks into place.

"Everything alright, Danny? Now realising who everyone else is?" Tim asks with a roll of his eyes.

"Uh... something like that..." Danny mumbles as everyone laughs again.

From further down the table, the smallest Wayne scoffs and clicks his tongue.

"I thought you said he was smart, Drake?"

"So, you all do it, too, then?" he asks, ignoring the jibe. Danny's only a little bit jealous as he thinks of how much easier they must have it, how much easier it'd be if his family had been on his side, too. "You all work together?"

"Nah," Dick says from across the table with a brilliant grin. "Tim's the only one that works with Bruce, we all have different jobs. I'm a police officer in Bludhaven."

"Disgusting." Danny blurts out without thinking—because seriously, what kind of self-respecting vigilante would also be a police officer?—before clapping a hand over his mouth. "Sorry."

The whole table laughs again, the loudest being the blonde girl a few spaces down from Dick. Look, Danny wasn't really paying attention to names when they were all paraded in front of him. Dick only gets remembered because his name is a joke.

Come on, Danny, recover!

"That's, uh, not what I meant, though."

"Oh?" Dick asks, cocking his head slightly to the side. Is it Danny's imagination or does his smile tense slightly?

"Yeah, I mean like, you know, in costume. It must make it so much easier to have everyone together like this."

"Costume? What do you mean?"

Yeah, Danny's not imagining it, everyone tenses up at that. It's really only now that he's realising that this probably isn't how he should bring up that he knows about their... night time activities. In fact, he probably shouldn't be bringing it up at all.

"Uuhhh..." Danny looks wildly around the table as he continues making his stupid noise. Think, think, think! There must be a way out of this!

"Danny?" Tim asks, looking concerned.

"Oh, Ancients, this isn't how I wanted it to go at all," he mutters, slipping even further into his chair. He's almost on the floor now and he so, so wishes it could just swallow him up.

His real first meeting with Batman was meant to be cool! He had planned to be Phantom, maybe save them from a tight spot, prove his worth as a mysterious and powerful ally as thanks for the help Batman gave him in the future.

"Danny, what are you talking about?" Tim starts tugging on his sleeve in an attempt to pull him back up from his pit of despair.

Eventually, Danny relents and sits up straighter, hiding his face in his hands and whining all the while.

"I'm sorry, I just didn't expect him to be here and it threw me off so now I look stupid and it's so embarrassing!" he wails, flailing his arms wide. "Why wouldn't you warn me that Batman was your adopted dad, Tim? Couldn't you have let me know?"

"I'm sorry, what? Danny are you alright? There's no way Bruce can be Batman, look at him!"

"Yeah," the blonde girl laughs from the bottom of the table, "look at him! That's a wet noodle of a man! Batman can actually do things, B is incapable of pretty much everything."

"Thank you, Stephanie," Bruce sighs, massaging his forehead.

It's... Those are the first words Danny's heard Batman say since everything went down and it's enough to knock him out of his embarrassment.

It's really good to hear his voice again. Especially now, when it's strong and healthy and full of personality—even if that personality is little more than a tired father right now—far better than how it had been, at the end.

Danny sits up, back straight, and grins. He's got this. He remembers it perfectly. Some people count sheep to fall asleep, Danny repeats his mantra to be certain that he'll never forget it.

"Gamma alpha upsilon tau iota mu epsilon, 42, 63, 28, 1 colon 65 dash 9."

Once again, the whole table falls into silence.

"Holy shit..." breathes the other D name (Duke? Danny's pretty sure he's Signal) from opposite Stephanie. "Isn't that...?"

"The time travelling code." The littlest Wayne says stiffly. "We have met in the future?"

"That's not just the time travelling code, Dami." Dick says, looking between Danny and Bruce. "That's the family time travelling code."

Danny's grin freezes in place.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"1 colon 65 dash 9." Dick explains, still flicking between him and Bruce. "It means you've been adopted into the family and we should all treat you as such, no questions asked."

"Tell you what, I'm about to ask a question." Danny says, dumbstruck. "You just told me it was a code to identify time travellers, not anything about being adopted! What the hell, B?"

Bruce looks about as shellshocked as Danny feels.

"We must have been close," he says finally, after opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water a few times.

"No! Not that close!" Danny reels back, taking a deep breath ready to refute it all, but... "Well, I mean, you found me when I first got stuck, and you helped me get better despite being... And then we fought together against the, uh, bad guy, before he, um, he... before you couldn't."

An uncomfortable beat passes while they all pick up on what Danny tried so hard not to say.

"So, you're not from the future, then, you travelled there and came back?" Tim asks, breaking the tension and leaning forward with a glint in his eye.

"Yeah, it was a whole end of the world thing, but don't worry about it," Danny says with a hand wave, "It's all kosher now, won't ever happen."

"What did happen?"

"Seriously, don't worry about it, we cool."

"How long in the future was it?"

"About ten years? You were pretty spry for an old man, B," Danny laughs, wishing they'd get off the topic of what happened and get back to the adoption bit.

Everyone shares degrees of a cautious smile as they relax out of the shock, and Dick—whose grin is the biggest—says, "No wonder you got the family code, you're already riffing on him like one of us. How long were you there for?"

"A week, before I managed to get back to my present and stop him then."

"A week? Jeez, B, that has to set some kind of record, seriously."

"Oh!" Danny says, sitting bolt upright and blinking in surprise before pointing at Dick and bouncing in his seat. "You're Nightwing!"

"What?"

"That's exactly what Nightwing said when Batman told me the code! Makes so much more sense now."

Dick laughs and claps his hands, delighted.

"You were not formally adopted?" The grumpy small one—Dami?—asks, his face pinched.

"I didn't even know I was informally adopted."

"And your parents? Are they alive or dead?"

"Damian, stop—"

"They were dead in the future, but they're alive now." Danny says, looking down. He fiddles with the tablecloth, twisting the fabric around his fingers as he fights down the pang of sadness that he always feels when he thinks of them now. He forces a bright smile on his face and hopes it doesn’t look too strained. "I just, uh, can't talk to them much, anymore."

"Damian," Dick warns, "1 colon 65 dash 9. Treat them as family, no questions asked."

"This is Damian treating him as family, the little turd has no manners." Tim scoffs, rolling his eyes, but he gently bumps shoulders with Danny to knock him out of his funk. Danny can't help but send him a watery smile.

"I have the most exemplary manners, Drake, unlike some people." Damian spits, crossing his arms with a pout. "I was merely ascertaining his status to see how he could possibly fit into the family."

"I know this is all a bit sudden, Danny," Bruce smiles, ignoring Damian and reaching out to lay a warm hand on his arm, "for all of us. But if I felt strongly enough to give you that code after spending a week with you in the future, then you are more than welcome in this family, if you so choose it. I think I can speak for all of us when I say we'd like to get to know you a bit more."

"I know a threat when I hear it, Bruce." Danny snorts. "But, yeah, I get it. I'm sorry this is all so weird, it really wasn't how I wanted to find you again, but... I'm glad I did."

"So are we, Danny." Dick says, with a warm smile. "And formally or not, 1 colon 65 dash 9 means you're family. Welcome to the fun house! No take backs or refunds, sorry. You're stuck with us."

[arttsuka]

This scene is always in my mind

They make me sick get them out of my head NOW!